#i’m sitting here drinking my bi-weekly bottle

[emietook]

Kombucha is vile and I hate it but ever since I started drinking it semi-regularly a lot of my stomach issues have vanished

Damn you and your health benefits you disgusting piece of poo

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Dads

Summary: When the reader gets an offer to make some money on the side, things quickly evolve to Jensen learning about where some of the reader and TJ’s money has been going, namely TJ’s father. Jensen offers to help out but discovers that Rick might be up to something... 

Masterlist

Square: A Place To Call Home

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 7,600ish

Warnings: language, angst (so much family angst), minor injury

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo. This part takes place after the Halloween timestamp. Enjoy!

______

“Thank you, Barry,” you said as he left the office at the brewery. Your head was still up when your dad slipped inside and he shut the door. “What’s up?”

“There’s a talent scout out in the draft room,” he said.

“Fascinating,” you said, going back to reading over a contract with a new distributor.

“Y/N they’re here to see you.” You turned in your seat and stared at him, breaking out into a giggle. “I’m serious.”

“This is by far your worst prank yet.”

“You modeled some of the new merch last week? He’s here for you,” he said.

“To what, model?” you scoffed. “No thank you.”

“Well can you go tell him that because he was insisting on hearing it from you,” he said. You sighed and walked out front, a guy in a suit with no tie on sipping from a glass. He smiled when he saw your dad behind you. 

“Ms. Ackles,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s Mrs. Hanover,” you said with a friendly enough smile. 

“You’re clearly used to some hard negotiations.”

“I’m tougher than I look Mr…”

“Elbridge but please call me Dan.”

“What can I do for you today, Dan?” you asked. He walked out to a quieter spot by the railing, settling at one ot the standing tables.

“I work for a talent agency, Mrs. Hanover. We’ve worked with your father a few times when he was starting out,” he said, your dad giving a nod. “We’ve seen your modeling pictures and we’re very interested in you doing a shoot.”

“I appreciate the offer but my answer is no. I’m not a model or an actress or any of the things my parents are besides someone invested in this brewery,” you said.

“She is a tough cookie,” he said as he looked at your dad. “I’m assuming you told her nothing I told you.”

“You gotta sell it on your own,” he said.

“Y/N, we’d like you to be in a commercial with some other women. An underwear commercial.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a commercial for inclusivity for people with differences,” he said.

“He means the scar on your back, Y/N. From the accident,” said your dad.

“You’re exactly the kind of person we want included in the line. There’ll be a photo run of things too and-“

“Why exactly do you know I have a scar on my back?”

“Your Instagram. I assumed it was public knowledge.”

“Okay but it’s not even that big. Like it blends in. I’m boring. Get like, an amputee or a burn survivor. That’s inclusive. I’m average.”

“We have a vast array of women in the line including those types and all kinds of body types. But you’re...a brand name we could put to the project.”

“Brand name,” you said. He hummed and you laughed. “My dad? That’s a brand name, not me. Throw him in some underwear and I’m sure you’ll get all the attention you want.”

“Well we want you,” he said. He pulled out a business card and handed it over. “Our initial offer is on the back but we’re open to negotiations. Call us if you think you might be interested. Oh and the beer’s great.”

“Thanks,” you said, looking over the card. The guy had wandered off by the time you flipped it over.

“I told him you wouldn’t be interested,” said your dad, sipping from his bottle of water. You blinked at the card, your dad raising an eyebrow. “You’re not considering it are you?”

“Dad,” you said. You flipped the card around and showed it to him, water spitting out of his mouth.

“Hey, Dan,” he said, rushing back and waving him over. Dan smiled as he walked back, drink in his hand.

“I thought that’d-” said Dan before your dad got in his face. “Is there a problem?”

“What are you up to,” he said.

“Dad.”

“Y/N no one gets offered that much money off the street. No one. So I’m gonna ask again. What are you up to?” 

“It’s for a package deal. A photo shoot. A commercial. Ad sponsorship for three months bi-weekly on her social media accounts. We’d also like her to design the set for the commercial. There’s a time crunch of next week so we felt a hundred was a fair offer for that amount of work on short notice,” said Dan. “If she were simply modeling, we’d offer her twenty five but this is our biggest line of the year. You are more than welcome to come along every step of the way.”

“Dan I really do appreciate the offer but I’m not a model. I don’t even remember the last time I wore makeup. I will happily design a set and build if you like and maybe I can do the ad thing but I’m not a model like my parents. Can I talk to my dad for a second?”

He nodded and walked off a ways, your dad sighing.

“Maybe mom could do it or something? She’s done that stuff before,” you said.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Go for the set design for sure. You’re good at it and I know you get to break back into your architecture skills for that. But the rest...once you get on that train you can’t get off.”

“Dad, people already know who I am. I have like...an obnoxious number of followers on my accounts and stuff. My most popular posts? Always about you. I’ve never been in the shadows.”

“I know but that’s different than you doing these things. If you start taking pictures in underwear, you’re gonna attract at least a few weirdos and most of them are harmless but maybe some aren’t and there is a reason that Uncle Cliff still hangs out with me at certain times.”

“It’s a hundred thousand dollars. TJ and I could pay off the lawyer fees for Allie’s adoption finally,” you said. “We could get our mortgage payment down.”

“You’ve never cared about money,” he said. You pursed your lips and he narrowed his eyes. “Are things tight?”

“Dad.”

“Are they?”

“I don’t ask about your finances.”

“I sat down with both you and TJ when you bought the house and even with the renovation costs, your monthly payment was very affordable. Allie’s adoption should have been paid off months ago.”

“Do you stalk our spending now or what?” you shot back.

“Well you haven’t bought a new car or any big expenses. Where’s the money going?” he asked.

“I’ll take the set design and leave it at that,” you said. You brushed past him and over to Dan. 

Thirty minutes later you had a signed contract and were back in your office, your dad grumbling as he walked inside.

“I’m busy,” you said.

“Where’s the money going, Y/N?”

“TJ and I make very good money,” you said, typing up an email. He leaned over the desk and narrowed his eyes. “I took the set design only for twenty. Happy?”

“Why do you need twenty thousand dollars?”

“Coming from the guy who made how much fucking money for a single freaking episode? At least I’m not slutting out my face,” you said. He stood back and slammed the door shut on his way out. You sighed and got up, finding him out back, splitting old pallets down. “Dad I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled. 

“Dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah you did,” he said. “That is exactly why I didn’t want you doing that shoot. Then all you are is a pretty face.”

He moved a pallet and picked up the axe again, bringing it down in the center.

“Dad.”

“What?” he snapped as he spun around. 

“I said it because I knew it’d make you mad and piss you off and get you to drop it. It’s the only reason I said it. Please stop asking about where my money goes. Please.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Dad I said to stop asking.”

“Tough shit,” he said with a shrug. “Call me whatever you want. Maybe I get pissed off but I’ll cool off too. I know how much you make and I know how much he makes and I know you two have both been taking side jobs recently. You should have your house paid off by now, not barely making your mortgage. What’s going on and I want the truth.”

“I can’t.”

“What’s TJ involved in,” he said. You looked away and he nodded. “There are very few reasons why you wouldn’t tell me the truth and considering how small Allie and Colin are, he’s the only one I can think of.”

“I can’t.”

“Hey! There you are,” said TJ, walking around the corner with a bag in his hand. “I was out at a ranch nearby for work and figured we could have lunch together.”

“Speak of the little devil,” said your dad. He dropped the axe and TJ set the food on the hood of his truck, cocking his head.

“You okay, Jensen?” he asked.

“Peachy,” he said, putting his hands on his hips when he stopped in front of him. “So. Want to tell me what’s going on with your finances lately?”

TJ glanced to you and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” said TJ quietly.

“You want to try that again and not lie to me this time?” asked Jensen. TJ shook his head and your dad shut his eyes. “If you’re involved in something bad, let me help. I have money.”

“TJ just tell him,” you said. TJ sighed and picked up the food, walking over to the employee picnic area and sat down. You took a seat beside him and TJ handed you a wrapped burrito, your dad sitting across from him.

“I’m not angry. Let me help is all,” said your dad.

“It’s not us who’s in trouble,” said TJ. Your dad looked to you and you nodded. “It’s my dad.”

“Oh you two,” he said, shutting his eyes. “You’re paying off Rick’s debt he owes somebody, aren’t you.”

“Rick owes money to a bookie and...he beat him up kinda bad and we have extra so…” you said, your dad staring at you. “He asked us not to tell anyone.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Five...hundred,” said TJ. 

“Five hundred thousand?” he asked, your heads nodding. “Five hundred thousand? What...how much have you given him already?”

“About half,” said TJ. Your dad shook his head and put his hands over his face, quickly pulling them off. “I know it’s a lot.”

“Yeah…” he said, swallowing to himself.

“We got it covered. Really. At the rate we’re doing extra side work-”

“Kids...you’re both so kind I think you missed something pretty important,” said your dad. 

“I don’t understand,” said TJ. He looked to you and you shrugged. 

“Guys that’s a lot of money. That’s...an extraordinary amount of money to a lot of people. How on earth does your father owe that much money all of a sudden?” asked your dad.

“He made some bets he lost on,” said TJ.

“But how could it be that much. What was the original bet?”

“What?”

“What was the original bet he made and lost on?”

“I don’t know. We figured it must have been like a hundred.”

“So your father bet a hundred, say he lost. That’s two hundred. Say he got some insane interest on it. Okay. Maybe, maybe he truly owes that much. But where did he get that original one hundred?”

“He didn’t have it,” said TJ. “We think.”

“Okay. He bet badly and ends up owing the whole thing,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“Do you give this money to Rick or the bookie?” asked your dad.

“My dad. He didn’t want us to get involved with the guy,” said TJ. 

“Okay,” said your dad. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna drive up to your folks this afternoon TJ and talk to your dad, see what’s left he owes. I will pay the rest.”

“Jensen that’s a lot of money.”

“I know it is. But it’s better to get him out of the hole quickly before something were to happen and I can afford it. Okay? I’m gonna head up. You two enjoy your lunch. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

Something was off about him as he stood and left but you weren’t quite sure what was wrong.

“My dad’s gonna be pissed. He didn’t want Jensen to know at all,” said TJ.

“He wants to help. He’s got a point. The quicker it’s paid off, the quicker your dad’s out of danger. Let’s have lunch and you can tell me about that ranch you’re fixing up.”

“Arrow,” you grumbled that night as she reached for the hot pan. “Let it cool off.”

“Why are we having dinner at your house?” she asked. “No offense but you can only cook like five things.”

“Would you like to cook dinner for seven?” you asked. She held up her hands and you rolled your eyes.

“To be fair, Colin still eats baby food,” she said.

“Thank you for volunteering to feed your nephew,” you said with a grin.

“I didn’t-”

“Ro!” he said as he waddled into the kitchen, wrapping her legs up in a hug.

“I hate you,” she said, narrowing her eyes before she picked him up.

“Thank you Arrow,” you said as she put him on her hip. “He’s got dinner in the fridge if you wouldn’t mind?”

“I got it,” she said, opening it up one handed. “Mom and dad have some last minute thing or something?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your phone ringing, Jared’s name popping up. “Can you get that?”

“Hey Uncle Jared,” she said, hitting it on speaker.

“Arrow? Hey you mind finding your sister for me?” he asked.

“She’s busy making dinner. Apparently it’s very difficult.”

“I’m here Jared,” you said. You grabbed the phone and shoved it between your shoulder and ear. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out,” he said. “But come outside.”

You turned down the heat on the stove and went out the front door, finding Jared on the seat out front.

“Uh, what’s up?” you asked, pulling the door shut behind you. “This is weird.”

“Your dad may have...listen. Shit went down when Jensen went up to see TJ’s dad whatever his fuckface name is.”

“Jared.”

“Oh you’re about to call him fuckface too.”

“What happened?”

“Well...he had a bad feeling about this whole thing. He and De went up there to talk to them. Things aren’t...your dad’s in the hospital.”

“What?” you said quietly. He stood up and gave you a smile, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. He got a little cut when he got...pushed,” he said. 

“Jared,” said TJ, stepping outside with a curious look. “What’s up dude?”

“Normally being the Uncle is the fun stuff,” he said. TJ frowned when you both saw a cop car pull into your driveway, Cody getting out. “Codes.”

“Dad, I got this,” he said as he hopped up on the porch. You smiled and looked back at TJ. “Oh shut up. I got adopted like six months ago. I might as well.”

“What exactly is happening?” asked TJ.

“Dad,” said Cody again. Jared sat back in the seat, Cody sighing. “TJ...dude I’m sorry. You’re like my brother.”

“Did my...did something happen to my parents,” he said quietly, Cody’s head shaking. “Oh.”

“Rick’s been stealing money from you. There’s no bookie to pay off. Jensen and De went up today to talk to him and they found out the truth and your dad’s got in a fist fight and you guys ought to head up North. It’s not my jurisdiction so I’m not much help.”

“My father did what?” said TJ. Cody glanced at you and you looked down. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “TJ the police from your hometown looked into it. He took the money. He’s claiming it was a gift from the two of you but we all know that’s not true.”

“No, he’s been making progress. We’ve been making progress. We’ve been getting along really well,” said TJ.

“Did that start when you started giving him money?” asked Cody.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying what I know as a cop. Did your relationship start changing when money started exchanging hands?”

“Why does he hate me,” said TJ. You grabbed his hand and he shut his eyes. “He must hate me. That’s the only reason I can see why he would do something like that.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” you said.

“He hates you and Jensen. He thinks De is eye candy to stare at. I don’t know how on earth he can pretend to like me,” he said.

“TJ,” said Jared.

“You gonna tell me he loves me or some shit? It’s not good enough,” said TJ.

“I was gonna say you can cut him out of your life if you want to and you’re still gonna have a dad you know. I don’t understand him. I do think he loves you but there’s some resentment towards everyone else you call family. I don’t know why but it’s your choice what you want to do. I’m gonna go inside and finish cooking dinner and we’ll watch all of them tonight. Y/N-”

“I got him,” you said with a nod. 

Ten minutes later you were on the road and driving, TJ staring out the passenger window. 

“Honey-”

“Don’t,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. You reached over and grabbed his hand, TJ squeezing it. “We’re going to my parents house after and we’re packing up as much crap as we can to bring back. I’m never speaking to him again after tonight.”

“TJ.”

“All the late hours I put in doing side jobs. All the jobs you’ve been doing for set design on the weekends. For months and months we’ve been doing it. Straight into his fucking pocket. We could have paid off the house with that money. Paid off bills. That’s our money. It’s our kids money. It’s not some sack of shit’s to go buy whatever he wants with. I could fucking kill him.”

“We’ll get it back,” you said.

“It’s not about the money.”

“I know, babe,” you said. 

“Why is he like that?”

“It’s not an excuse but I think he was raised very poorly and he doesn’t...he knows it’s wrong but I think he thinks we have so much it’s okay if he takes from us.”

“He took two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from us. A year of side jobs for the both of us on top of everything else. We sleep four hours a night. We weren’t handed that. We worked for it. We worked our asses off. All that pressure and all the pressure we thought somebody would hurt him if we were late with money? I can’t believe I ever gave a shit about him. I should have trusted you. You’ve never liked him. No one in your family did. Even Arrow and that kid loves everybody. I should have trusted you guys.”

“TJ they didn’t like him because of the way he treated you, not me. I knew he was a dick when I met him but he belittles you, so, so much. We hate that he does that to you.”

“I don’t know how my mom is married to someone like him.”

“Don’t cut her out,” you said. “She raised you. You’re all her. Anyone who meets you can see that.”

“He’s going to lie when I see him again. I don’t know what to do,” he said. 

“Why?” you asked.

“Because.” You pulled over and he sat back in his seat. He turned his head and you saw all the tears streaming down his face.

“Honey,” you said. You leaned over and hugged him, TJ gripping you back.

“He’d kick my ass for crying right now.”

“Who was it that sat up with my dad after the accident and let him cry all over him? My dad who hates to cry and he’s not afraid to cry in front of you.”

“He’s strong. I’m not.”

“You’re my best friend. The girl who thought she was so fucked up and would be alone. God, Thomas. You gave me something even my parents and family couldn’t. You know how I never thought in a million years I could have this kind of love and you were never scared. The insecurities. The nightmares. The days where I’m quiet and my head gets to me. You just grab my hand and you make it better. You’re stronger than most everyone on this planet. I love and I’ve loved you since I met you and I’ll do anything for you, you know that. We’re partners. If you want to give your dad another chance you can and I won’t question it for a second.”

“I don’t want to talk to him again,” he said, sitting up somewhat. “But how do I say that when you didn’t get a choice? You didn’t get a choice with your parents. They were just gone and you had no say. How can I just walk away like that?”

“My parents didn’t treat me like the way your father does. Neither of my moms or dads ever have. You can walk away from someone that does, TJ. I don’t want you near someone like that. Jared was right too you know. You’re not gonna lose a dad tonight. You’ve always had one and he’s gonna be there for you always.”

“He hurt Jensen, didn’t he?” he sniffled.

“I’m sure he's fine. He’s very...defensive of his children is all.”

“Jensen gave me a letter,” he said. “Addressed to me. That’s when I really knew he loved me.”

“He loved you before that.”

“I know he did. I don’t know why I wanted my dad when I’ve had Jensen the whole time.”

“I’ve been there. Trust me,” you said. He let out a small laugh and you hugged him, TJ taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry Rick hurt you.”

“He hurt both of us.”

“Yeah but I care more about the fact he hurt you. I may deck him when I see him,” you said.

“That’d be kinda awesome,” he said. “But please don’t.”

“Hugs instead?” you said.

“I’ll take hugs,” he said. His stomach grumbled and you kiss his temple. 

“I’m gonna hit the drive thru and then we’ll get on the road again, okay honey?”

“Okay,” he said. You kissed him one last time before you got out of the car and dug around in the trunk. You took out your oversized hoodie and brought it up to the front, handing it to him. “What’s this?”

“You can steal it if you want. Your hoodie’s kinda make me feel better on crappy days,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. “I really love you.”

“Me too. It’s gonna be okay.”

One Hour Later

“Let’s go to the hospital first,” said TJ as you hit the edge of town. 

“Jared said my dad was fine.”

“Y/N. Let’s go to the hospital,” he said. You nodded and about ten minutes later you were parked and getting a room number. He held your hand on the elevator ride up, kissing the top of your head. “You alright?”

“I’d prefer if he could stay out of the hospital.”

“Me too,” he said, the doors opening. You walked a little too quickly until you found the room, your mom and dad talking as you walked in.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked.

“Jared and Cody came by and we learned some stuff,” you said. “Why are you in the hospital? You look...normal.”

“Your father hit his head.”

“I’m fine.”

“After the accident last year-”

“It was nearly a year ago.”

“After the accident they wanted to be safe and monitor overnight just in case. He got a cut on his arm from some metal but that’s all,” said your mom. 

“I’m fine,” said your dad. He got up out of bed and spun around. “See? No concussion. An itty bitty scratch is all you worry worts.”

“Was there a fight?” you asked. He sat down and sighed. “You don’t look like it.”

“No,” he said. He looked at TJ and pursed his lips. “TJ would you mind grabbing me a drink from the vending machine?”

“Whatever you want to say, you’re gonna say it in front of me,” he said. 

“Mom and I went up to your parents place and it started out okay. But your mom didn’t quite understand what was going on. She thought Rick had been doing well betting horses at a track and that’s where the sudden money came from. Things...devolved from there and Rick got defensive and I was angry so we started arguing and he shoved me and your mom and De shut it down and the cops came and I’m sorry but he took the money for himself. Last we heard from your mom a little while ago she’s giving all the money back to you guys.”

“You pressing charges?” asked TJ.

“It was a shove. He didn’t take my money. You two are the ones that have a right to charge him,” he said.

“Do you know where my mom is?” asked TJ.

“She’s at your house along with your dad,” he said.

“Y/N why don’t you hang here with your parents,” said TJ. You shook your head and he frowned. “You’re worried about your dad. Stay.”

“He’s okay and I’m coming with you,” you said.

“Me too,” said your mom. 

“De-”

“TJ. You’re not gonna win this one,” she said. “Jensen’s okay on his own for a bit and he’d come if he could. You’re not gonna go talk to your dad alone.”

“Fine. Let’s go,” he said, already leaving the room. Your mom grabbed her purse and you ran your hands over your face.

“Go take care of him,” said your dad quietly.

“Dad.” You walked in front of him and he wrapped his arms around you. “He’s gonna be fucked up.”

“I know. We’ll take care of him,” he said. He kissed your temple and pushed you towards the door gently. “Go take care of your husband.”

“We’ll be back.”

“Guys I think maybe I should go in first,” said your mom a short while later, the three of you parked in his parent’s driveway. 

“No,” said TJ.

“Thomas.”

“Danneel,” he said. He turned in the passenger seat and she sighed. “I’m a big boy. I can go in first.”

“Don’t be violent.”

“I won’t,” he said quietly. She kissed his cheek and nodded. 

“Okay sweetie. Let’s get this over with,” she said. You got out and took his hand, TJ not as tense as you were expecting.

“His car isn’t here,” he said quietly on the way up the porch steps. He rang the doorbell and the door flew open, his mom standing there. “Hi mom.”

“I kicked him out for the night,” she said, letting the door open for the three of you. “I’m so sorry. Danneel is Jensen-”

“He’s pissed but fine,” said your mom, following you inside. TJ walked around for a moment, stopping at a picture on the wall.

“Mom. Why does dad hate me?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder and she frowned. “He manipulated me and Y/N. He’s horrible to her family. I get that he went through something as a kid but he’s a grown man.”

“Your father loves you. He doesn’t always know the best way to show it,” she said.

“He hurt me and you’re gonna side with him. Again,” he said.

“He made a mistake.”

“Hell of a mistake,” you mumbled.

“Do you think he wants to be the way he is?” she asked.

“I could have gotten past everything before but this? He doesn’t get to worm his way out of it. I’m done with him.”

“Then you’re gonna be done with me too,” she said. TJ turned around and she lifted her chin. “He doesn’t deserve to thrown out of your life over a mistake.”

“I seem to recall you not saying a word when he almost hit your grandaughter with a belt,” said TJ. “Why do you make excuses for him?”

“Why do you hate him?” she asked. TJ threw up his hands and shook his head. “Always since you were a little boy you’ve hated him.”

“He didn’t want me, not the other way around. I know he worked a lot but all I wanted when he came home at night was a hug or a bedtime story. I wasn’t asking for much,” said TJ. “He resented me.”

“He put in all those long hours for you, to provide for you.”

“I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I paid for my own things from the second I was able to. I paid for school all on my own. My apartment. My car. I paid for my wedding and honeymoon. He paid for food and roof over my head which is the bare minimum he could have done. Don’t tell me he provided for me. He fucking hated me.”

“Because you’re not his,” she said. You and your mom looked at one another, TJ blinking where he stood. “Rick isn’t your father.”

“Excuse me?”

“I cheated on your father because he can be an asshole and I needed an escape. He found out when I was pregnant.”

“Excuse me?” asked TJ again.

“He never wanted children because he thought he’d be a bad father. I guess he was right in your mind,” she said. 

“If you’re gonna tell the story, you might as well tell the whole thing,” said Rick. He stepped out from down the hall, TJ’s mom sighing. 

“So you are here,” said TJ.

“Car’s in the shop,” he said. 

“You hate me?” 

“I love you. It doesn’t mean I’m a good person though,” he said.

“You stole from us.”

“Yes I did.”

“Why?”

“This house is the size of your living room. You have so much.”

“If you wanted money just fucking ask,” said TJ.

“Like I said, just cause I love you doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”

“You’re not even my father apparently.”

“I’m your father,” he said. “Didn’t make ya but I’m your father.”

“What’s the story?” asked your mom. They all looked to her and she looked at TJ’s mom. “What don’t we know.”

“You ever wonder how someone like me wound up with someone like your mother? We’re polar opposites most days,” said Rick. TJ narrowed his eyes and looked between them.

“Don’t tell him,” said his mom.

“Alright,” said Rick. “I must have been mistaken.”

“TJ, can I talk to you,” you said, pulling him into the kitchen. “TJ do you remember in family studies when we had that project to track our family trees and you found your parents marriage certificate and the year was wrong?”

“Y/N what’s that got to do with anything.”

“What if the year wasn’t wrong.”

“It can’t be. They would have gotten married after I was born then.”

“TJ I’m not saying your dad is great but he just lied for your mom. He loves her. Something happened before you were born or after. I have this feeling that she didn’t cheat on him.”

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe I’m wrong but maybe your mom was in a bad situation and Rick stepped in to help because of her.”

“Rick,” said TJ, very quickly exiting back to the family room. “When did you meet my mom. If you ever want to speak to me again, if you want me to speak to her again, you’ll tell me the truth.”

Rick glanced to TJ’s mom, TJ smirking.

“You do care about her.”

“Of course I fucking care about her. I care about you too.”

“That’s great. I feel very cared for,” said TJ. Rick pursed his lips and his mom nodded. “Truth or I walk out that door and never come back.”

“I was married,” said TJ’s mom. “He was charming until he wasn’t. I got pregnant with you and you were born and he would get so angry at you for being a simple baby and crying and...I was so scared of him hurting you that I left. I had nothing and I stayed with a friend for a few days. I met Rick through them and he offered us a safe place to stay with him. It was only supposed to be short term but things developed. He is not perfect but he’s not the monster you think he is. We are safe and the reason you have all you do well and truly is because of him.”

“Do you have anything to say?” asked TJ quietly.

“I loved your mother before I loved you, that’s true. But I learned and I’ve done my best. You were far better off without me in your life. Look at what you have. You’d be angry and bitter if I had more of a hand in raising you. So you can hate me but you do not hurt your mother like that. You do not walk away from her after everything she has done for you. Understand me?”

“I need space from you,” said TJ, Rick nodding. “I also need something else.”

“What?”

“I still don’t understand why you took the money if you weren’t going to spend it.”

“Was gonna impress you, turn a profit on it, give it back with interest. Be like her father, give you some money for once.”

“Jensen doesn’t impress me because of money. Yes, their family doesn’t have to think twice about the cost of most anything. But Jensen, De, they don’t impress me for any reason other than how kind they’ve been to me. They treat me like their son, like I’m their own. They don’t pretend to. They don’t tolerate me for Y/N. They genuinely care about me, all because I fell in love with their daughter, a girl that’s not even theirs and they love her to death. The house is nice. The wedding was nice and so are the vacations. But I could live in a cardboard box and be happy if all I ever got was their kindness. They never made me work for it. They just gave it to me. You could have just given it to me and I would have been a happier kid. But you didn’t and now you have to work for it on my terms. So I want our money back and I want some space from you. If and when I’m ready to talk to you again, I’ll reach out. Alright?”

“Okay,” he said. TJ crossed his arms and nodded before he went outside. His mom followed after and you gave Rick a look. He pulled out his phone and tapped on it for a few moments before shoving it in his pocket. “It says it’s pending for that big of a transfer. It should be back in your account in a few days.”

“Oh I’ll make sure of that,” you said, walking over to him. “Rick. Maybe try some therapy if you really want to salvage this relationship.”

“You think I can afford that?” he said.

“We’ll pay,” said your mom. “Jensen and I will.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s a fucking awesome kid and he deserves a relationship with you, even if we don’t like you,” she said.

“What about you? You hate me too kid?” he asked you.

“I can learn to tolerate and respect you. But you hurt him and I’ll protect him from anyone that does that, including you. But it’s not my forgiveness you need. It’s his so maybe try the therapy and let him come back if he’s ever ready for that, okay?”

“Alright.” You turned to go when he caught your shoulder. “Can I ask where the money came from? Jensen made it sound like you were behind on bills.”

“It made things tight for us. TJ and I have both been working side jobs nights and weekends to scrounge up extra money. We weren’t handed any of that money we gave you. We even took from ourselves and our children. Just because we live in a nice house doesn’t mean we don’t work for it,” you said. “Oh and one more thing. Touch my father again or call my mom slutty behind her back one more time, you’ll find out which one of us isn’t the good person in this relationship.”

“He what…” said your mom as you walked out, pulling her along behind you. “Dickhead!”

“Come on mom,” you said, pushing her back to the car. TJ gave his mom a nod and hug before he climbed back into the backseat.

“Slut my ass,” your mom mumbled under breath as she started the car back up. 

“Mom, let it go,” you said, shutting your eyes and slumping down in your seat.

“Put on your seatbelt,” she said. You reached up and put it on, turning back to catch TJ with his head leaned back. “You okay back there?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“That’s probably the right answer,” you said. 

“Let’s get back to dad. I’m sure he’s climbing the walls to get out of there by now.”

Two Days Later

“Howdy,” said your dad, taking a seat in the patio chair beside you as you watched TJ swim in your pool with Allie. “Where’s the babe?”

“Naptime,” you said, TJ tossing Allie up in the air and hugging her tight when he caught her again. 

“How’s he holding up?” he asked, reaching over and taking a chip out of the bag in front of you.

“Better than expected. He’ll give Rick another chance someday.”

“He said that?”

“No. I know Thomas though. He’s too good to hold onto that crap. It might not be for six months or a year but it’ll happen eventually.”

“Well I think he’s a dick,” said your dad. “But if TJ wants to give him a chance, we’ll give him a chance.”

“Thanks for being his dad too,” you said.

“I love the kid,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulders. “So what are you two gonna do with all that money?”

“Pay off the last of the lawyer fees, pay off a big chunk of what’s left on the mortgage. When that set design comes in then we won’t owe too much more on the house,” you said. “Speaking of which, I gotta go to work on it.”

“Y/N? Use some of that money and take a nice vacation with the kids. Or even just a long weekend away for you and TJ.”

“We really ought to use it for stuff like the house,” you said. 

“Have you and TJ ever taken a vacation just the two of you?”

“Of course. We went on our honeymoon.”

“That doesn’t count. The answer’s no, isn’t it.”

“Dad, I don’t need-”

“Maybe you don’t but somebody in that pool needs to have some fun. Plan a little trip away next month,” he said.

“He’s always wanted to go to Mardi Gras,” you said with a smile.

“You guys would have a blast and I got some pull down there and all. Come on. Let me spoil my grandkids for a weekend.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me,” you said.

“You mind if the twins have dinner with you guys?”

“We’re actually going to the Pads for dinner. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind more though. You got a hot date?”

“Getting a private college tour with mom and JJ,” he said. “Ya’ll can stop growing up anytime you want you know.”

“She wants to live at home you know.”

“Really?”

“Contrary to her teenage angst as of late, she does love us. Just you know, drop the curfew like you did with me.”

“And we get texts when you stay out.”

“That’s what you thought,” you mumbled. He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged. “I let you know when I wouldn’t be home that night. You didn’t need to know my exact whereabouts.”

“When’s the first time you stayed over TJ’s?”

“Fall of Freshman year in his dorm,” you said.

“Never mind. I don’t need to know,” he said.

“Yup. Let her have fun when she gets there, she’s smart,” you said. “Plus you know she’ll call me if shit happens. Also she has a year and a half of high school left. Relax.”

“At least I know Tom will keep an eye on her too.”

“Already planning the wedding?” you smirked.

“Shut up,” he said, ruffling your hair. “Make sure he gets this.”

He dug into his back pocket and took out an envelope, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. “Dad?”

“Mhm,” he said as he stood. 

“Can you invite him on your fishing trip this weekend with grandpa?”

“Already did,” he said, nodding down at the envelope. “I’ll talk to you soon, tall munchkin.”

“Later dad,” you said, TJ giving him a wave as he headed out. You left the letter on the patio table and went over to the pool, slipping into the shallow end.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“Yeah. My dad left you a letter,” you said, Allie swimming off on her own, doing circles around TJ. He nodded and got out of the pool, drying off some before he went to the table and sat down. “Time for a snack.”

You scooped her up and swung her around in the water, throwing her up your hip. You walked out with her, setting her down to dry her off some. 

“Is daddy okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Why don’t you change back into some clothes and we’ll get Colin and snack time going.”

She rushed over to TJ and smiled up at him, TJ tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Daddy snack time!” she said.

“I’ll be inside in just a minute, sweetie,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her head, pushing her back towards you. You patted her inside, TJ rubbing his thumb over his lip as he read.

“Take your time, babe,” you said. You kissed his cheek and he nodded. “I’ll leave some tissues just inside the door in case.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Take all the time you need. I got these two,” you said. He nodded and smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

_________

A/N: Read the First Summer Timestamp here!

[mxvladdy]

THE WAY YOU FILLED YOUR FIRST REQUEST SHOOK ME?!?!?!? YOU BLESSED US!? Would you mind also imagining how Mammon, Luci and Belphie would feel with a MC who's guarded with themselves and their feelings to avoid hurt, so they try to keep these brothers at a friendly arm's length as they don't believe the brothers don't really care about them? It would make me so happy, thank you so much!

EEEEK! Sorry for the wait. It took forever and a day to get enough time to seat uninterrupted and then try to edit ;.;

I hope you like it! Apologies if I didn’t get the prompt just right!

Mammon

He didn’t hide his disdain for his human protection duty when you first met. The fact that you kept him at an arm's length was a devil’s blessing. Good! He is a busy demon after all, he doesn’t have time for some human. At first.

Then he caught the feels and it’s all downhill for him at his ‘cool devil’ act. Not that you ever NOTICED.

He tries to flirt with you. Before you, he thought he was good at it too.

He’s never had someone so civil with his advances. You smile and laugh politely at whatever complement he throws at you. You might even give him a few back in a teasing, but clearly friendly manner.

You stress it heavily whenever he comes on too heavy with his advances. You stamp down whatever feelings he evokes and try to keep your line clean and precise in the shifting sand of your relationship.

He takes you out one evening after school, determined to get an actual answer from you over some made up snack he lied about. You don’t think anything of it, happy for an excuse to hang out. You walk and talk, not taking notice of his steadily reddening face as he keeps making swipes at your hand each time it brushes his.

You make an off-handed (get it) remark about the closeness and offer to walk behind this was bothering him.

He is miffed and throws out all semblance of “coolness”. Just flat out confess. Face flaming hot from embarrassment and sweaty palms now shoved into his jacket.

It was a blink and you’d miss it kind of moment. Mammon’s cheeks start to heat gradually. A staunch look of panic growing behind his eyes.

The words just slip off his tongue. His lips forming a sentence you were dreading. You didn’t quite catch it all; his declaration lost in the wind of the open market. You try to catch his gaze, to make him repeat himself clearly, for what purpose you didn’t know. You don't particularly want to hear it again, yet it would give you time to compose some kind of response.

He refuses to look at you. No matter which way you bob and weave beneath him, he dances around you. His face always looking in the opposite direction of yours. His gaze permanently pointing at his feet. The uneven cobblestone beneath his scuffed boots was suddenly very interesting it seemed. "I'm sorry? I didn't catch that." You ask once more, grabbing on to the crook of his elbow.

He buries himself deeper into the flipped collar of his coat and whispers it again. "I-I like ya, ok? Like like like ya know?" He stumbles over his thoughts.

Now how in the hells were you supposed to dodge this? It had been easier to evade his blatant affections when even he wasn't admitting to them. "No, you don't." You step away with a dry chuckle. "Don't be silly." You back away shaking your head in denial. You were sure Mammon could feel your heart rate picking up. You need some space, more space than the street could give you. Somewhere away from your tall, sweet, white-haired problem.

"Oi!" He makes a grab for you as you turn to flee. He spins you around leaning down to meet with you face to face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We are friends Mammon," You try to wiggle out of his strong, yet gentle grip. "You're just mixing up the feelings." Bullshit. With him touching you, your joint pack acted like an amplifier. You very much felt what he thought of you. The yearning from his newfound mental clarity mixes with the panic of your rejection. It makes a bittersweet taste bloom in your mouth, so hopefully yet reserved.

He was not so lucky. Your feelings felt like ash on his tongue, a sour tang of fear and self-doubt building on his sense. You were afraid of the inevitable, or what you presumed to be the inevitable.

  You were supposed to be friends then disappear forever once the school year was up. Him, down here, and you back to being just another nameless soul in the human realm. No need to get the storyline all tangled. "Hey-hey," Mammon speaks in a rush. "It ain't like that, really." He coos shuffling you closer till you are wrapped tightly in his soft leather jacket. He pours more of himself into the pack, opening himself up in ways he never thought capable of from his demonic form.

"I'm stupid." You speak into his chest. The warm reassurance of his unspoken pledge soothing you. It lessens the tight feeling of uncertainty that you had grown accustomed to.

"Ah- now, ain't that supposed to be my job?" The taste in his mouth dissipates slightly as you let out an indignant huff. He flinches as you poke his side hard between his rib cage.

"Told you to stop talking down on yourself Mammon."

The demon hums noncommittally keeping you close. He rocks you both from side to side, oblivious to the throngs of other pedestrians forced to walk around you two. "Guess I forgot. Maybe you could remind me? O-on a date?"

He smiles down at the little sliver of your face and eyes peeking up from the darkness of his jacket. He could damn near feel the smile trying to break from your forced scowl. "Just one?"

"Heh- don't bet on it."

Lucifer

Welcome to the ultimate game of pleasantry chicken. The two of you know this dance by heart, but your footwork isn't synching up.

Lucifer is trying to keep this whole debacle as professional as possible. You are an esteemed guest and pact holder for all of his brothers and himself. This should be business as usual. He totally has his emotions and growing frustration at your lack of interest in him in check.

Yup. He's fine. He's great; glad you two have such an unspoken understanding of your standing in his company and in the house. The same book, same chapter, same bloody page.

You are a good friend. Just. A. Very. Good. Friend.

He breaks first. Not that he will admit it. But the weekly coffee breaks become a bi-daily thing as he tries to court you. He draws these evenings out now. Have you finished your schoolwork? No, allow me to tutor you. Perhaps you would like to listen to this new vinyl with me tonight? It is a complete demon rendition of Wagner's Die Meistersinger. A classic, you’ll love it.

You take it all in stride. Thanking him innocently enough and going along with it. You buffer every little turn of phrase and slightly off-color hint of what he wanted from you with grace. So tactfully done he begins to doubt himself. You couldn’t be misconstruing his intentions right? He hasn’t doubted himself like this in a long time.

Diavolo catches on quickly to the kicked puppy look Lucifer tots around in your presence. He’ll tease, but try to help. He’s a decent wingman truth be told. “How has Lucifer been treating you? I haven’t seen him this happy in ages. He is a great friend to have, yes?” Kinda backfires when you agree that he is indeed a good friend. Oops.

He’ll crack one night over a glass (or bottle) of something strong he pulled from his study. You had slipped into his room unannounced asking for a quiet place to read before bed.  The interruption to his musings leads to him running his mouth and pile driving his pride into the ground.

He can’t say no to you anymore. He really should. You were hell bent on keeping him at an arm's length, so he should too. Lucifer watches you like a hawk from behind his desk. His ungloved fingers swirling the dregs of his drink. The cognac inside of it looking up at him, his scowl reflecting in the rich red liquor. Don’t judge me. He scoffs at himself, was he that far gone that he was arguing with his glassware? Should have switched to the bottle hours ago.

“Luci?” You say again waving a hand in his face. “You forget to sleep again this week?” Your smile was warm, a little twinkle in your eye drawing a heat to his collar that had nothing to do with the spirits. You sit on the edge of his desk in your sleepwear. The baggy shirt and sweats reeked of his brothers.

“No.” He lies pushing his desk chair away. “Did you need something?”

You shrug hopping off the desk. “Not really. Wasn’t feeling movie night. You ok if I hang out here? It’s nice and quiet.” You slink off to the couch in front of the fire before he could answer.

“You could not do this in your room?” Lucifer snips. He tosses back the rest of his drink and rises to his feet. He grimaces at the burn spreading across his throat. “I’m sure it is quiet in there too.” He catches your eyes looking over the back of the lounge. While everything lower than the bridge of your nose was blocked by the black velvet he could feel the frown growing on your face.

“Well, yes. But I still want some friendly company. Just not rowdy company, I thought you wouldn’t mind...”  

Devils. There was that word again. "You assume to know me?" He cannot hide the venom lacing his words. The liquor had dulled his senses enough that he could not hide his rancor.

“I’m-” You leave the chair coming around it to give him your full attention. This wasn’t like him. Not anymore at least. But you were used to the odd mood swings that plagued your companions. "I don’t assume anything about you Luci. But if you want to talk-"

“I don’t want to have some idle friendly chit chat.” He could feel the tantrum coming. “Have I not proven myself capable of-” His jaw snaps shut with an audible click that echoes across the spacious chamber.

“Of?”

A noticeable blush grows on his pale cheeks. “More.” He sighs deeply, he feels light-headed at the admission. Whether it was from the drinks or from going against his nature and swallowing his pride he couldn’t tell. “Am I not enough to be more than a friend to you?”

That takes you by surprise. You had speculated that he harbored feelings for you. Diavolo all but cementing the idea in your mind. But, this was Lucifer. It felt like just yesterday you were at each other's throats, before he recognized you as something other than a threat to his family. You wanted to respect that little bit of trust he had given you. “It’s not like I never thought about it.”

“But?” He perks up slightly hearing the unspoken word in your inflection. He could see your apprehension yet there was a shimmer of something else underneath. Something he could work with.

“I was- I am scared.”

“Finally, a reasonable response from being around demons.” Lucifer snorts.

“Hey! You know that’s not what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.” He invades your space waiting to see what you would do. Run or stay. He would have his answer either way. You don’t move, instead, you wrap your arms around yourself. Guarding yourself yet standing firm. One of the many reasons why he admired you.

“I feel like we just became friends. I didn’t think you felt the same and I didn’t want to mess this all up.” You confess. “I just thought it would be easier this way.”

Lucifer absorbs your words quietly, nodding at the logic behind them. “Messes are not something I generally like true, but," He reaches for you, careful of your defensive stature to lead you back to the couch. “If you are willing to iron out the bumps with me I’d like to see what we can make of it.”

If it meant he could have you he would take as much time as you needed.

Belphegor

It takes him the longest to notice that you were trying to keep him at arm's length emotionally. It was hard for him to see at first since you still readily accepted his invitations to snuggle and hang out.

He thought he was very blatant with his desire for you and your affections. The head pats and evening is the planetarium or his attic.

The fact that he had apologized for that little murder mishap. He thought that was a big bright neon sign. Yet you always seemed to try to invite someone else along to chill or leave quickly after an hour or so. As much as he loved his twin and tolerated his other brothers he was trying to get you ALONE.

He starts trying to see you outside the house now too. Lunch in the cafeteria? Pffft. You are going to eat and nap with him in the courtyard. After School activities? Could you help him with some council stuff instead?

Yes, he will go out of his way to do work if you are involved.

You are still too closed off though. You act around him like you do around any of the other brothers and it drives him crazy. You are just so friendly and cordial with everyone. How come he is the only one that becomes a flushing mess now?

He becomes your second shadow, almost as bad as Mammon. You start to get an inkling of his intentions when he starts wanting to sleep in your bedroom at night instead of his or the attic. You let him but offer up the couch or split the bed with a pillow.

He snoops when he gets desperate. Did you like someone else? Was that why you were constantly acting like his advances were just him being overly friendly? He doesn’t find anything, you act like this around everyone else too.

He gives up. Stops interacting with you entirely. He is 99% sure he can sleep through the next century without being bothered. Maybe he’ll get over you by then.

“Belphie? You up here?” The demon in question opens a bleary eye to his locked door. He should stay quiet, leave you hanging. Give himself some vindictive pleasure in snubbing you.

“Hai~” He rises from his nest of blankets and pillows. “Hold on.” Unlocking the door he opens it ajar. You smile around the large stack of books and binders in your arms. “What is that?” Please don’t say homework.

“Work you’ve missed sulking up here.” You confirm his worst fear. “Satan and I thought we would spot you a bit though.” Belphegor watches you struggle for a second to pull a folded piece of paper out from the middle of the stack. “We got most of the answers done for you. Now you just have to fill the worksheets in with your handwriting.” You wave the paper expectantly.

Hearing his brother’s name makes him sour immediately. How long had you been hanging out with him now? “Thanks, leave them at the door then.” He goes to shut the door and return to his dreamless slumber but it’s blocked by your foot.

“Ouch.” You wince hopping back on one foot.

“Idiot! Are you hurt?” He wrenches the door open crouching down to take a look at your sock-covered foot.

“Nothing I can’t walk off. Though my arms are getting sore- weak human muscles an’ all.” You hint wiggling the stack in your arms. He takes the work this time, still eyeing your foot. “Relax, I’ve stubbed my toe with more force than that before.” You whisk by him, using his brief moment of distraction to slip by.

“Did I invite you in?” Belphegor eyes you with a frown. He kicks his door close and dumps the pile of papers on his already over-encumbered desk. Hmm. How many days had he missed?

You ignore him plopping down on the still warm sheets. “Nope!” You pop the ‘p’ with a grin. “But that has never stopped you from sneaking into my room. So fair trade all around.” You pat at the bed, clearing inviting him to join you. “Come on. I’ll help you finish that work then we can chill.”

Oh, now you want to hang out. He felt a rush of bitterness wash over him.  “Don’t you have something better to do?” If this keeps up he’ll need another nap, alone preferably. “Doesn’t Asmo need a shopping buddy or something?”

“What’s gotten you all worked up?” You frown, hurt by his accusatory tone.

Belphie shoots you a wounded look. "We never hang out anymore." He sulks. "Alone, I mean. I'm tired of you always inviting Beel or someone else with us."

He glances over to you idly thumbing at one of the books on his desk. It's frustrating. This game of touch and go he accidentally got himself into. Ugh- why did this have to be so hard. "I want to spend more time with you. Just us, so why are you always avoiding that?" 

"I.” You look down at your feet dangling off the side of his mattress. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I just felt like- like things were going off the rails between us.” You weren't oblivious to his advances.

He cocks his head in confusion. "Mmm? What are you afraid of?" You read a flicker in his eyes, a haunting memory of cruel fingers around your neck darken his gaze. "Ah-"

"No! No that's not it!" You panic waving your hands up. Of course, he would immediately go to that. "I'm just worried. I know you like me, and-just what if things don't work out? What if you realize what a mistake this could be?"

Your admission gives him pause. So you knew this whole time? Not surprising; he wouldn't fall for someone stupid. "So, are you admitting to liking me back?" He feels giddy when you nod, covering your heating face with your hands. " Well then, what’s the problem? It’s not a mistake if we both are making it.” He grins slyly. “How can it not work out if the feelings are mutual.”

“But what if you are mistaken?” He wraps you up into his arms, flopping you both over onto his messy bed. He takes one of your hands and places it on the top of his head all while burying his nose in your neck.

“Please,” He yawns, feeling his body grow heavy. “I don’t waste my energy on ‘mistakes’.”

[mutants-and-soldiers]

The Proposition (Ch. 1)

summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.

pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)

word count || 3,706

warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!

You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!

Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five

Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics

After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”

“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.

It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.

The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.

She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”

“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.

The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”

It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”

“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”

A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”

“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.

“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”

Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.

“Not really.”

She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”

Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”

The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”

Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”

She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.

“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”

You hesitate. “No.”

Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.

“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”

“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.

Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”

You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”

You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”

You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.

Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.

It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.

You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.

“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”

Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.

“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.

There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.

“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”

“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?

You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.

“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”

His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I���m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”

He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”

It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”

Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”

Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.

“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.

Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.

“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”

Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.

Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”

Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.

“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”

“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.

You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.

He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”

The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.

After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”

“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”

He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.

“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”

You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.

Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.

You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.

It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.

Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…

“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?

You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.

Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.

Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?

You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!

Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.

It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.

Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.

Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.

The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?

Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.

It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.

Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?

You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.

It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.

You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:

Now.

Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:

Unsplash photographers:

1. Kelly Sikkema

2. Vulkan Olmez

3. Toa Heftiba

Like, comment and reblogs are always welcome! Thanks for reading!

[kumkaniudaku]

Simple Syrup

You asked for Daveed smut and I tried to deliver. At least this one time. Enjoy!

Warning: Sexual Content. 18+. 

Daveed Diggs x Black!OC (Olivia Jenkins)(Yes, the MC/ OC is black. Representation is important.)

"Yo, open up!" Heavy fists beat against the door of Olivia's downtown apartment, making her roll her eyes. "I know you can hear me, girl! It's your favorite pop-up roommate!"

"You've been evicted, Diggs!"  

"I paid you rent, though!"

Turning the stove on low, Olivia shook her head as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. Daveed always found a way to surprise her with his presence. He never texted before showing up at her door but frequently sported a backpack or suitcase full of clothes or Rafael for an extended stay. He and all his baggage were welcome anytime, with or without notice.

Stepping to the door, Olivia bit back a smile before responding. "I didn't receive any payments this month."

"I got it in my bag."

"Bag or bags?"

"Open the door to find out."

Daveed took a step back as the locks began to turn, waiting for Olivia's face to greet him with faux anger the way she did the last time he showed up out of nowhere and stayed for three weeks. Despite stopping by six months ago, it felt like a lifetime since he'd been in her company. Bi-weekly phone conversations weren't enough. He needed to be near Olivia while she watched whatever Housewives franchise had her attention for the month.

When the door opened to reveal the long hallway leading to her living area, Olivia stood with a hand on her hips and a grin on her face.

"Where is my money," she asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Just as she expected, he stood in the hallway with a suitcase that she knew cost a fortune to check at the airport and his worn Jansport full of junk and work.

Daveed laughed and bent to rifle through his backpack for a crumpled white envelope that he handed over with exaggerated purpose. "Here you go, Miss Jenkins. Sorry to be late on rent for, what, 8 months? I hope this is enough."

"Boy, you didn't really need to pay me. You're not on the lease."

"Good," he answered as he pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. "Because those are just Chick Fil A coupons."

Olivia stood with her mouth open as Daveed brushed her to roll his luggage to the first bedroom on the right.

He listened to her insult his "stupid face" and instruct him to hurry up while he scanned the room he had called home more times than he could count. All of Daveed's belongings were in the same place, with almost unnoticeable shifts to show that Olivia had cleaned once or twice. His favorite throw blanket was folded at the edge of the bed with his initials elegantly embroidered in the corner. The air smelled of the vanilla candle she kept on the nightstand next to a framed photo of the crew enjoying a roller coaster at Six Flags. His favorite trinket, Olivia's homecoming crown from undergrad, sat next to a single gold medal from Daveed's days competing in track and field. To him, it symbolized their bond from the beginning. To her, it was probably just a space to hide old items.

"Daveed, get in here! I need you to cut!"

All at once, Daveed's sense of self returned to center him in reality. He quickly kicked off his shoes once he remembered Olivia's rules and started off toward the kitchen to answer the call for his help.

Even with the windows open, he could smell savory and sweet aromas combining for a smell that reminded him of the holidays. However, the calendar placed them square in the middle of an excruciatingly hot summer. He could see the open bottle of BBQ sauce on the center island next to a mixing bowl full of things he couldn't recognize but knew they would taste great. Bushels of greens sat in a pot on the stove, boiling amid smoked meat and seasonings to complement the food cooking in the oven. Daveed felt excitement take hold of his face and forced the apples of his cheeks up toward his eyes. Olivia looked up from her task at the cutting board and smirked.

"I thought you were vegan now."

"My business is my business, Liv. We talked about this last week."

"We also talked about you heading directly to Toronto after your job in Atlanta and, yet, here you are." She studied Daveed's face for answers but found nothing but a growing smile. "Come over here and cut up these strawberries while I sauce the ribs."

Daveed followed directions without complaint, lazily strolling to the island and nudging Olivia away. He'd been her help in the kitchen before to open pesky jars or stir while she tended to the more time-intensive parts of the meal. On more than one occasion, he had fucked up, and each time she invited him back into her safe space with open arms.

"How's Rafa and the family," Olivia asked with her back turned while she bent to take a peek into the oven.

Daveed kept his eyes on her backside for a moment too long before answering. "Rafa's good. Amy sends her love and says that you are more than welcome for Friendsgiving this year. She volunteered you for pies."

"You volunteered me for pies, Daveed," Olivia corrected, knowing how much her friend loved her desserts. "What about my babies? Is Santiago the best big brother to Emelia?"

"He's...trying. But he did send a gift for the lady with the bald head. His words, not mine."

Olivia ran a hand across her tapered fade and chuckled. "I feel like he heard Rafael say that."

"No, Rafa calls you Thick Mr. Clean."

"Yeah, because that's what you said when you were drunk on New Years," Olivia accused as she gestured toward the cabinet housing her wine glasses. Daveed nodded before answering.

"I said it with love!"

"Mhmm, I'm sure."

Together they watched half a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc be transferred into the separate glasses, waiting for the moment they could take a sip. The last time they shared a drink, they ran through two 12- packs of beer with Rafael and ended up dancing with street performers in Times Square. She hadn't been able to stomach the smell of a Budweiser since then and fully transitioned to fruity notes and sparkling Rosé with Daveed occasionally coming along for the ride.

Taking another long sip from his glass, Daveed leaned against the island counter to watch Olivia stir a mixture for skillet cornbread.

"What's got you so stressed?"

Olivia shrugged but didn't look away from the bowl. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"The last time you cooked like this, you were writing your dissertation. And the time before that, it was your mom."

The room fell quiet outside of the spoon, ricocheting off the sides of the mixing bowl. After several seconds, Olivia took a deep breath and looked up at Daveed.

"Daddy's getting remarried. Omari and I are his best-kids," she laughed. "I'm not stressed. Just a bit...sad, I guess?"

Daveed understood the issue without needing more context. Five years ago, he was the one sitting beside Olivia on the floor of her brother's home office after the news came that their mother had in the hospital. He was there for the saddest funeral he'd ever experienced and the months of reconciliation that the family struggled through on the way to some sense of normalcy. The idea that her father had found love again was heartwarming, but Daveed knew the occasion was bringing up old feelings.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She shrugged again and moved the skillet to the oven. "There's nothing to talk about. I said I'm fine. I wish she was here, ya know, but I know she isn't upset. She always told us to move on once she's gone. She sure as hell would."

Daveed chuckled at the idea of Mrs. Jenkin's moving on in the afterlife. "She was funny like that. I remember when she met me for the first time and kept calling me Devante."

"Yes," Olvia exclaimed, a spark of joy returning to her eyes. "She'd call me and be like, that boy Devante is smart! Ask him if he can put me in a movie one day!"

Olivia's voice warped to imitate her mother as best as possible before she burst into laughter with Daveed.

"One of the last things she said to me was that I need to make sure you keep having fun. She didn't want you to stop enjoying life on account of her."

"Yeah…" Daveed watched Olivia down the wine in her glass with her eyes closed, waiting for her to continue her thought. "Well, you're doing a good job. We could work on your definition of fun, but solid effort so far."

"How can I do better? I'm open to criticism."  

Daveed kept his eyes on Olivia while he reached across her body to grab the wine bottle for the final drink. Her breath hitched while alcohol buzzed through her system, creating the perfect storm for sudden arousal. She fought her thoughts by shaking her head to recover.

"You can start by grabbing those strawberries and bringing them over to the stove."

"Don't skip the question." Daveed's smirk as he followed her to the other side of the counter made Oliva hot with embarrassment, but she kept a calm exterior. "Are you still having fun with me?"

"I always have fun with you, D, you know that. Who else is gonna play Bop It with me at 2 AM on a Wednesday? The question is, are you still having fun with me, superstar?"

"Don't start that. I come and stay at your house because I miss you, not because I can't find somewhere else to sleep. You're my person."

"For now," Olivia added as a rebuttal, ignoring the way her stomach flipped at hearing the way Daveed felt. "What happens when you get married? You're gonna have to go be a family man like Rafa. Then we'll only see each other on Friendsgiving and Christmas."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Hm." Olivia's short but skeptical laugh effectively ended the conversation. Still, Daveed had already made up his mind to return to the discussion later in the week. "So, how long are you here this time?"

Daveed used one of his large palms to push a few curls off his forehead in search of relief from the heat in the kitchen. "I was thinking a couple weeks. Three or four."

"That's longer than normal! I get to have my favorite guy here long enough to help me put wallpaper up in the guest bathroom?"

"Am I only muscle to you?"

"Of course, not," she answered with a sweet smile, making Daveed mirror her expression. "You're also a taste tester. Open up."

Before Daveed could object, Olivia swiped barbecue sauce across his bottom lip for his opinion. The tip of his tongue appeared to taste the tangy brown sauce, finding an explosion of flavor that reminded him how much he missed Olivia's cooking.

"What's the verdict," Olivia asked over her shoulder as she turned off the eye under her simple syrup mixture.

"Tangy and sweet. I'm not sure why you don't bottle this up for sale. My dad would love some."

"Meh, I like having it as a treat for the people I love. All my hobbies aren't for profit, my friend."

Daveed dramatically threw a hand across his chest and gasped. "Did Mean Ole Liv just imply that she loves me? I-I'm gobsmacked. Utterly shocked and eternally grateful."

"Diggs, you're pushing it," she laughed. "Come taste this syrup before I start on the lemonade."

From experience, Daveed knew what to expect. But he humored Olivia anyway if only to see pride light up her face when he told her how amazing the sweet mixture tasted. After washing his hands in the sink, he skimmed his middle and pointer fingers across the top of the syrup to pick up enough to coat his fingertips.

He eyed the liquid for a moment, watching it slowly trickle down the side of his long fingers while he thought of his next move. Olivia stood at the refrigerator with her back turned, humming a song from The Wiz. At the same time, she gathered ingredients for the beverage.

"Hey...hey, Liv." Daveed had already started to close the short gap between them and stood waiting for Olivia to respond to his call.

"Wha -" A sudden swipe of syrup across her bottom lip confused Olivia. "D, what is your problem?"

Stepping forward, Daveed took her chin in his to bring their lips inches apart. "Is it still cool if I taste?"

Olivia stared at Daveed without blinking, fighting her brain for a competent answer to his question. Instead, she nodded in a daze with her jaw slack. His fingers took gentle meandering paths across the peaks and valleys of her face before using his thumb to part her lips.

Daveed's first kiss was a tentative peck to test the waters. When he received no resistance, he pulled Olivia closer for full access to her mouth.

Neither of them expected to fall into the kiss so easily. Olivia didn't expect to melt into Daveed's body while he dictated the pace and intensity. Daveed didn't expect to feel an overwhelming desire to consume the one person that always felt so close but far away. He wanted to feel and taste every part of Olivia while he had the green light. She reveled in Daveed's attention, even if it was only for a moment.

Taking a step backward, Daveed used his knowledge of the kitchen to guide them back toward the stove. Their lips remained connected to taste the last bits of each other. Olivia was the first to break the lip lock and move her head upward, directing Daveed to choose a spot on her neck to explore.

The cold, sticky simple syrup came next, the thick glob landing on the center of her chest and sliding to her cleavage.

"I've thought about this a lot," Daveed spoke barely above a whisper as he used a finger to spread simple syrup across Olivia's chest. "Kinda wild to say, but I have."

"How long?"

"A year. Maybe two."

Olivia released a shaky gasp once Daveed's tongue began licking from the space between her breast to the base of her neck to catch the simple syrup. As quickly as it disappeared, he replaced the sugar mixture with another round at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He groaned as the tart strawberry flavor mixed with the sweetness of the sugar and Olivia's skin. She grasped the back of his head for stability, allowing her eyes to flutter closed for a few seconds.

"How does it turn out? In your thoughts, I mean?"

Daveed paused to kiss Olivia's lips again and run his hands down her back. "Doesn't matter. We're here now, and I can't think of anything outside of how good you taste drenched in strawberry sauce."

"Simple syrup," Olivia answered, smiling as she sneakily dipped her finger into the pot behind Daveed. "It's simple syrup, and I haven't gotten a taste yet. Open your mouth."

They kept their eyes on each other while Daveed opened his mouth, waiting for whatever came next. Olivia took her time to coat his tongue in syrup, imagining how it would feel to experience the concoction from his mouth.

There started the mad scramble to get closer, taste more and touch longer. Separate but equal desires to completely consume the other person had the pair maneuvering around the kitchen. They remained attached at the lips until they reached the solid wood breakfast table near the large casement window. Daveed was the first to remove clothing, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere behind him. A split-second decision had him rushing back to the stove to retrieve the syrup pot. He carefully placed it on the table while Olivia slid the straps of her summer dress down her arms to let the fabric pool at her waist. Daveed watched with a flirtatious smile, marveling at the expanse of her warm brown skin. Olivia returned the sentiment, letting her eyes rake over his broad chest and toned midsection.

One after the other, Daveed and Olivia added bits of syrup to different body parts to lick and suck the skin clean. A handful mistakenly dripped onto Olivia's thigh, and they watched the sticky liquid carry small chunks of strawberries to the inner portion of her leg.

Daveed regarded the sight with wonder before carefully dropping to one knee for a better look. He maintained eye contact with Olivia as he kissed his way to the sweetest spot, lingering in places that earned the most desirable response. The scratch of facial hair combined with his lips and tongue's soft, silkiness made Olivia keen for more. She could feel the blood rushing to pool at her inner thigh for a bruise that would leave evidence of a dream achieved. She smiled at the thought of seeing it when she was getting dressed and how her stomach might feel with butterflies from the memories.

Daveed mumbled praise after praise into the supple skin of Olivia's thigh before starting a journey back to her lips. When he returned, he slowly pushed the waistband of his sweats down his hips and legs.

"Oh," Olivia spoke, eyes wide while she fought the natural desire to let her gaze travel. "I...wow, okay. I feel like I'm violating you."

"I'm kind of asking you to," Daveed laughed as he stepped closer.

"This is so fucking weird. Are we really about to do this?"

"Only if you want. I mean, I want to, but we can stop whenever you say the word."

He was closer now, dropping kisses on her shoulders while he pressed their chests together to reduce the space between him.

Olivia's legs naturally hooked themselves around his waist at the same time that her arms circled his neck.

She leaned forward to speak against Daveed's lips with her eyes hooded in lust, "I want this."

Passion and the hint of strawberry coating their lips intensified the moment between Olivia and Daveed. He held her writhing hips steady while he stood on his toes to push forward. Simultaneous moans of pleasure rang out in the kitchen, surely gaining the attention of nearby neighbors.

Their hips bucked an even pace, repeatedly meeting to build tension in their bellies. Daveed felt the strain of each stroke in his thighs and calves but found the desire to fuck his friend on her kitchen table to override any other immediate discomfort.

"Are you a talker," Daveed asked randomly, making Olivia's eyes snap up from the action below her waist to focus her attention on him.

"What?"

"A talker. Do you like to talk during sex?" His question came between labored breaths and grunts holding a mixture of exertion and indescribable pleasure.

"Daveed, are you trying to have a conversation with me right now?"

"I mean, I like to - fuck - I...I like to talk sometimes. Is that cool?"

A high-pitched moan ripped through Olivia's throat before she could gather her senses to respond. "It's your c-call, Diggs. Just don't stop."

He followed directions without skipping a beat, digging into his strength to pick up speed when he sensed they could move to the next level. He peppered in filthy statements that stimulate Olivia's mind while driving into her with expert precision.

They held on to each other as they reached separate peaks with no regard for the climbing noise level.

"I wanna do this forever," Daveed whispered into Olivia's ear before nipping at the lobe.

"Not look into my eyes lovingly and write songs about me?"

Daveed chuckled and snapped his hips forward, earning a near-silent moan. "Can I use you calling me daddy on the hook?"

"You got a lot of work to do before that happens."

"I'll put in overtime."

Splaying his hand across Olivia's torso, Daveed pushed her to lay flat on the table before leaning to hover over her body. He used his waning energy to give her all the power in his hips, searching for a climax. When she thought she couldn't come anymore, Olivia felt her body jolt off the table once the pad of Daveed's thumb began rubbing tight circles on her clit. Daveed smiled at the reaction but felt it disappear as soon as his hips falter mid-stroke. He rushed to pull out of Olivia, fearing that if he stayed inside for a moment longer, he would expedite his journey to fatherhood.

Olivia helped his cause by curling her fingers around his length and joining his pumping effort while she propped her body up on her elbow. He came with a choppy moan and heavy breathing on her belly, his chest rising and falling rapidly in time with the stove's timer beeping for attention.

Both Olivia and Daveed dissolved into laughter.

"Please, don't let this dry on me. It's sexy now but a pain to get off later."

Daveed's laughter climbed to hysterics at Olivia's mention of the mess on her stomach before reaching across the table to grab napkins out of the centerpiece component.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly as he helped wipe her clean. "Condoms next time?" 

"Or my mouth."

Daveed stood shocked for a split second while Olivia worked to readjust her clothing and hurry to the stove. He followed her lead and pulled up his sweats before clearing the syrup pot and grabbing wipes to disinfect the surface.

The room was silent while they arranged hot dishes on the counter and privately grappled with having sex for the first time. A sense of "now what" hung in the air, which made Daveed more and more uncomfortable.

After plates were fixed, they chose opposite ends of the table to enjoy the meal.

"You know," Olivia started, laughing as she swallowed the last piece of cornbread on her plate. "That simple syrup recipe is my mom's. This whole meal was her favorite thing to cook, and I made it because I was really fuckin' sad and needed her nearby. Then you showed up."

Daveed's eyes snapped up from his plate. He wasn't sure what to say and remained silent in hopes that Olivia would elaborate.

"A couple weeks before she died, she told me that she would still be directing my love life from Heaven. She grabbed my hand and said, 'Dammit, Bean, I'm gone get you a man even if I gotta do it during bingo with the good Lord.'"

"You think she's up there winning the grand prize?"

Olivia shook her head. "I think she forfeited it to send you to me."

Her answer made Daveed still to watch Olivia's eyes meet his set from across the table. She reached a hand across the table with her palms facing upward, beckoning Daveed to place his palm in the center of hers.

"We have three weeks to figure this shit out," Daveed said, smiling before bringing Olivia's palm to rest on his cheek.

She looked at him for a minute to take in the way his eyes reflected the sun before using her head to gesture toward the pot still resting on the counter.

"And all night to finish off mama's recipe."

[jobrookekarev]

One Step Forward and Three Steps Back

Chapter One of Six

Words: 2783

Summary: Jo wants to marry Alex more than anything, there’s just a few hoops she has to jump through before she can make that a reality. When she finally takes the plunge to free herself from her past, it all comes back to haunt her.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson, Jo Wilson/Paul Stadler (Past). 

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Stephanie Edwards, and Paul Stadler.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences, 

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Assault, Drinking, Alcohol, Divorce.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: Updates Bi-weekly 

……………………………………………………………………

“Let's make a baby,” Jo said as she walked over to him, offering up everything she had to him. 

“What?” Alex paused, truly looking over at her for the first time since he came into the loft.

“You said that you wanted a baby, and you would make an amazing dad,” Jo said, she knew that this was what he'd wanted for years now, and if that's what he wanted, she could be ready. “And that's what you're worried about, right, that I'm not all in? But I am. And I love you.”

The second her fingers touched his cheek, he pulled away. It was something he had never done before. All the times they had fought before, he had never pulled away from her touch, and him doing so now truly scared her.

“Are you gonna tell me why you won't marry me?” Alex asked again, staring deep into her eyes as if he could read the answer in her face. 

“I told you that I love you,” Jo said, but when she wouldn't answer him, he just turned away and went back to packing his things. “And that I'm not going anywhere. So isn't that enough? Can't that be enough for you?” 

“You know, I was with Mer this morning, and I was thinking, the two of us, we've been through hell. You know, all kinds of drama, crazy family stuff, we both almost died, losing people we love.” 

“No, you're not losing me,” Jo interrupted him, she wanted him to know that he wasn't going to lose her, and she didn't want to lose him.

“The point is, we grew up. Mer and I are grown up,” Alex said, turning around to look back at her. “We got through it. And hell is behind me. It's in my rearview mirror, and I'm not going back. I'm done.” 

“Alex, please,” Jo begged him, the last two words rang in her ear and broke her heart in an instant, but she held back the tears. It wasn’t the end, it couldn’t be.  

“I'm not, I'm not, some idiot kid anymore, Jo. I'm a man, and I'm done with games. I'm done with, with crazy. I'm done with losing. I'm done with drama. I don't care about your secrets and your excuses and your drama. You know, I've had that,” Alex said, and he was right. He shouldn't have to put up with her drama and her secrets, and she wished she could spare him from it all and tell the truth, but she just couldn't.

“Alex, if we could just,” Jo pleaded with him one last time.

“I just said I don't want to do this!” Alex screamed, as he raised his voice, she grew quiet. “I, I have never had one second of anything real my entire life. I want truth. I want, I want a wife and a house and a family! Amelia and, uh, Owen's wedding today, I want that!”  

“I can give you family and a home,” Jo pleaded, trying to get Alex to say. 

“But you won't be my wife?” Alex yelled as he stopped throwing the rest of his clothes in his bag to look at her. 

They had fought before, but not like this. He was so angry, but Jo wasn't frightened of him. She was, however, frightened to tell him the truth. She knew he deserved the truth, but she couldn't give it to him. Jo knew what Alex would do to Paul when he found out. She knew because she saw how mad he got when she had shown up on his doorstep after her fight with Myers. She knew that if Paul even looked at her wrong or dared to lay a finger on her, Alex would kill him and she couldn't live with herself if she caused that.

“I, I can't,” Jo whispered, her words coming out in a painful breath. 

She wanted to explain or at least give him a part of the truth. A part of her was protecting him from his own anger, but another part of her had held the secret for so long and, every time she tried to say it, it was like the words were trapped in her head.

Alex looked so disappointed as he shook his head before he grabbed his bags and left. It broke her, it broke her to see Alex walk away like that. Jo sat down on the bench, held the pillow to her chest as she cried. After everything she had done to get away from Paul, changing her name, leaving behind all of her friends, including the boy who is like a brother to her, and starting over in Seattle. He was still ruining her life and her relationship with Alex. 

She had thought about divorcing Paul for the past few months, ever since Alex proposed. She had contacted the lawyer that Arizona had used for her divorce case. Michelle had shown Jo her options and it all seemed easier than Jo realized. She had also dug up Jo’s medical history from her time with Paul. With the clear evidence of domestic abuse, Michelle said she could help Jo get an emergency protective order. It would go into effect right away, and then a domestic violence restraining order would protect her during the divorce proceedings and for the rest of her life. Michelle said that because of their separate lives, it would be an easy divorce. She had drafted the papers and sent them over to her, all they had to do was sign them. 

Jo didn't know if Paul would make this easy and sign the papers, or if he would drag it out for years, but she wanted to try. She tried to tell herself that with the restraining order and a lawyer on her side, she could do it. Jo wanted Alex to be by her side, but now Alex was gone, and he would be gone for good if she didn't divorce Paul. 

She went over to the liquor cabinet. Jo grabbed the bottle of the hardest rum they had and took a swig. It burned her throat as she drank it and Jo took as much as she could before she put the bottle down. If she was going to do this, she needed as much liquid courage as she could get. 

Jo made up her mind. She was going to divorce Paul.

She pulled out her phone and called Michelle. Michelle set up an appointment to meet with her the following day and said she would get the ball rolling. She would file the emergency restraining order and finalize the divorce papers that had been sitting in her drawer for months. Michelle assured her that she would have a restraining order against Paul at the end of the day and that she would be protected. Jo thanked her and quickly hung up. 

Jo had always kept tabs on Paul just in case. Which was good because she knew that he was in Seattle giving a talk at the University of Washington. The past few days, she had felt trapped in the loft because of it, as she feared he would see her when she was out and about or at the hospital, but now she could divorce him before the weekend was over and Alex would never know. Then she could say yes and marry Alex. They would be happy and Alex would never know. Paul would never ruin his life because of her. 

Jo took a deep breath as she looked down at her phone. She was drunk enough to think that this was a good idea and before she knew what she was doing, she had dialed Paul's number. But, of course, he didn't pick up, Paul didn't pick up any strange numbers. Hearing his voicemail was enough to send shivers down her spine, but the liquid courage had given her enough strength to speak and leave him a message. 

“Paul, it's me, it's Brooke. I want a divorce. I'm leaving you for good. I found another man and he's wonderful. He's better than you ever were and I want to marry him. So I want a divorce. I'm in Seattle. I work at Grey-Sloan Memorial and I live here. I live at 4196 Cale St. I know you're giving some stupid talk at U-Dub, and I’m sending you the divorce papers, and you are going to sign them. Because you ruined my life enough and you don't get to ruin it any more.”

Jo hung up and she smiled. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she felt free, freer than when she was driving away from him all those years ago. Finally, she felt truly free. 

Then Jo looked around the empty loft. Alex wasn't there, he had left, and she was all alone. Jo sighed, taking another swig of the bottle. Then she texted Stephanie to meet her at Emerald City Bar. Jo needed her friend and there was no way she could spend the rest of this day sober. 

……………………………………………………………………

“Hey, what are we drinking about?” Stephanie asked, appearing at the bar and sitting next to Jo.

“Alex is gone,” Jo said as she leaned against the bar. She was genuinely drunk now and was suddenly second guessing everything that she had done. “I had the love of my life, and I just, pssh, pushed him away, and now he's gone. And I’m doing it, I’m finally doing it, but I already lost Alex, he's gone.”

“Okay, this again,” Stephanie said as she took a swig of the beer the bartender gave her. “Let's not overstate this. He's just living at Meredith's.”

“Steph, you didn't see his face. He’s gone,” Jo said, looking over Stephanie and seeing her face, Jo suddenly realized what she had said. “Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. He's not gone-gone. Kyle is gone-gone.”

“Making it worse,” Stephanie said as Jo leaned over to put her arm around Stephanie and lean her hand on her shoulder.

Stephanie shook her off and Jo decided to shut up before more words fell out of her mouth. In her endeavor to divorce Paul, it was like all her walls had finally come down. The truth slipped from her tongue like a bar of soap between her fingers. 

“He just kept asking me to marry him again and again,” Jo said as she picked at the peanut shells on the bar and tried to throw them into the bowl. “I just couldn't say nothing anymore, you know, so I just, I just said no.” 

“You could've said yes,” Stephanie said, taking a sip of her drink and shaking her head as if it was as easy as that.

“I should go home. I need to go home,” Jo said, reaching for the bag next to her and getting out. 

“What? No, you cannot drive home,” Stephanie said, getting up and chasing after her. She tried to grab the bag as Jo turned away from her.

“No, stupid, I'm gonna call. I'm looking for my phone to call a goober,” Jo said, looking through the bag and trying to find her phone. “I can't marry him. I want to, but I can't marry anyone.”

“Why's that?” Stephanie asked in her rude and sarcastic voice what made Jo realize what she had said.

“Just 'cause, none of your business,” Jo yelled, looking back at her.

“Okay,” Stephanie said, holding up her hands and leaning back.

“God, where is my. Oh, my God!” Jo paused, and she looked down at the strange purse in her hands. “This isn't even my purse.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and took the purse from Jo's hands, replacing it with Jo's own bag. “Here, just wait, and I'll call us a cab and you can tell me all about why you can't marry Karev.”

“I can't marry him because I'm already married,” Jo said, the words slipping off her tongue. She guessed she was done hiding the truth.

……………………………………………………………………

“Okay, you can't just drop a bomb on me like that and then not say anything else,” Stephanie said as they walked into the loft, and Jo stumbled over to the couch before she caught Jo around her waist and led her over to the bed. “Okay, come on, time for bed.”

Stephanie left her on the bed and went to grab a cup of water. This was the last thing she wanted it to be doing, but Jo was her best friend, and they were both going through it right now. Cleary Jo had some deep dark secrets and Stephanie would be lying if she said she wasn’t immensely curious about it.

“I was living in my car. Did you know that I lived in my car?” Jo said, stumbling over, reaching out to put her hand on the table. It seemed Stephanie couldn't leave her for a second and she reached out to grab Jo again. 

“Yes, I know all about your street kid days,” Stephanie said, trying to grab ahold of her, but Jo pushed her away, and she was surprisingly strong for a drunk girl.

“And then I met him, and I wasn't living in my car anymore. Everybody loved him, I did,” Jo said, undoing the button to her jeans and pulling them down her legs.

“What are you doing?” Stephanie said, putting her hands on her waist and glaring at Jo. Everybody always joked about how drunk people acted like toddlers and Jo was certainly acting like a toddler right now. 

“I'm gonna go, I'm gonna go to bed,” Jo said as she stumbled over to the bed before apparently changing her mind and leaning against the post. “He never wanted anyone to stop loving him.”

Stephanie paused and sat down on the bench at the end of the bed, watching Jo for a moment. Jo had never mentioned anything about past boyfriends, much less a husband. She watched as the tears collected in Jo's eyes as she started to sob and she could sense why Jo had never mentioned him before.

“So if I, I bought the wrong something he would, he would hit me in my face or my stomach. Nobody knew that but me. So, so I ran. I had to make sure he would never find me.”

“And if you try to divorce him,” Stephanie trailed off, still trying to take in the news of Jo's abusive husband.

“I'm trying to divorce him, but he’ll never sign the papers, I'll never be free of him,” Jo said, putting both of her hands on Stephanie's shoulders and staring into her eyes. 

“Can’t you get a restraining order or something?” Stephanie asked, watching Jo pull away from her. “Does Alex know about any of this?” 

“No, no, Alex would try and protect me, but he can't. I have to do this on my own. He doesn't even know my real name,” Jo said as she stumbled over to the bed.

“You should tell him, he'll understand. Alex is a really good guy. Okay, so we're going to get naked now,” Stephanie sighed as Jo unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor. “Just keep your panties on, okay.”

Jo didn't say anything else as Stephanie grabbed onto her waist and pulled her over to the bed. They both ended up stumbling and falling on the bed together and Jo laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Stephanie rolled her eyes and got up to grab the covers. As she looked up, Alex was standing in front of her in a rain soaked suit. 

“What's so funny? Alex asked as he smiled and came around to sit next to Jo on the bed.

“We fell,” Jo laughed, closing her eyes and pulling the covers over her head, still giggling from underneath them.

Alex looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and Stephanie just shrugged. “She's drunk off her ass.”

Alex nodded and put his hand over Jo's back, rubbing up and down as her giggles ended and she seemed to settle in. Stephanie got up and grabbed Jo's shirt from the floor before grabbing her jeans, tossing them both in the hamper.

“You came back,” Stephanie said, looking back at Alex.

“Yeah, well, Jo’s earned the benefit of the doubt, and whatever reason she has for not marrying me, I love her too much to let her go.”

Stephanie nodded, she didn't want to spill Jo’s secret, especially now that Alex was back, but she didn't want him to leave Jo again. She saw how messed up Jo was all night and Alex wasn't even dead. Stephanie loved her friend enough not to want to put her through that again. 

“She has a good reason for not marrying you. I won't tell you what it is, that's her job, but it's a good reason, and she’s trying to make it right,” Stephanie said as she folded her hands together.

“Thank you,” Alex said, nodding at her before he looked back at Jo and leaned down to kiss a little bit of her head that was still peeking out from under the covers. 

Stephanie wobbled as she took another step towards the door, realizing how drunk she was now that she didn't have Jo’s drunkenness to compare her sobriety to. 

“Do you want to crash here?” Alex offered, taking off his wet jacket and tie. “I'm going to hop in the shower, but I'll take the couch if you want to take the bed.”

“Sure,” Stephanie said, dropping her purse and kicking off her shoes.

She had slept over at the loft enough times with Jo that this was normal. They would have a girl's night and fall asleep on the bed, and Alex would come in and sleep on the couch. In the morning, he’d make them a hangover cure and waffles and Stephanie loved those waffles. Alex hung up his wet suit and went to take a shower and Stephanie crawled into bed. Jo would still giggle occasionally, but eventually, they both fell asleep.

……………………………………………………………………

Jo woke up to the sound of someone banging on the door to the loft. She rolled over to lay on her back and saw Stephanie sleeping soundly beside her. Her best friend had always slept like a log and she would sleep through her alarm if she was tired enough. Jo got up before she went to the hamper and pulled on her shirt. 

“Alright, Alex I’m coming,” Jo said as the banging continued, despite how late it was she figured Alex had forgotten something. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, but Alex wasn't standing on the other side. 

“Hello, Brooke.”

[im-whatchamccallit]

Confessing to Their Crush While Drunk//ATEEZ

(A/N: I spent days editing and rewriting this and I’m still not satisfied but I don’t have anymore time to cry over it so I accept it for what it is lol. Also, some are longer than others and I’m sorry about that)

Hongjoong

Clubs weren’t really your thing but you needed to relax a bit, your job overwhelming you to the point of no return, and you thought of one person who probably felt the same pressure and needed this night out just as much as you did: Hongjoong.

What you didn’t expect was for him to down various shots as if they were water, your hands no longer reaching to the tray of jello shots as you watched him stumble around happily, dancing off beat to the fast paced music.

He was on cloud nine at this point, his eyes barely open as his grin took up 90% of his face, but he managed to see your distinct figure approaching him, his body nearly lunging towards you as you caught him with ease, a concerned look on your face.

“Hi angel!” You tried to smile but grimaced at the smell of alcohol on his breath.

“Are you alright, Joong? I think I should take you home.” You offered, not surprised as he shook his head and tried to pull away, a sigh leaving your lips.

“At least sit down. Let’s get you some water.” Luckily, he followed you without incident.

You sat in silence at the bar as you sipped on your water, body trembling under Hongjoong’s intense stare despite your efforts to ignore it, unsure of what was going through his mind and if they were pure intentions at all. When you finally did face him, any questions you may have had were interrupted by his simple but shocking confession.

“I want to kiss you so bad.”

Your face grew hot as his words, ready to tell him how strange and inappropriate he was being from his usual self, but the small giggles he let out and slight pink tint to his cheeks and ears made you want to roll your eyes at yourself. He was drunk, you shouldn’t get yourself worked up over drunken words.

“I wrote an entire song about how cute your lips were, especially when you smile. I even look at your picture sometimes just because I miss you. I feel stupid being this in love with someone, but I’m so happy at the same time.”

As much as you wanted to pass it off as drunken words, they honestly cut deep. Whenever you’d call Hongjoong as he was writing or composing, he’d answer the call with an excited “Hello, my muse” before detailing the song he was preparing for the next comeback. But maybe he was just talking to talk, and the alcohol was just forming unrealistic sentences that you wanted to hear and he couldn’t comprehend. But from the way your eyes gazed to the empty glass of water you ordered for him, you weren’t completely sure anymore.

“(Y/n),” Your attention came back to Hongjoong, his eyes meeting yours as he leaned against the bar to balance himself.

“Don’t smile for anyone else but me, okay? I don’t want them to take you away.” He said in a fake stern tone, managing to bring a genuine smile and laugh from you.

“I swear.”

Seonghwa

Seonghwa was typically a classy man, drinking wine in high class places to show he was mature and sophisticated. But on the nights you’d invite him over for dinner and your bi-weekly catch up, a tradition you made after he debuted in order to keep in touch, classy was the last thing you’d use to describe him.

Dinner ended not long ago and, from the moment you sat on your sofa and began talking until now, you had managed to clear three bottles. But you were only now finishing your second glass. It was a shock to see Seonghwa down each glass as if it were water but you ignored it as his laugh grew louder and smile brighter, loving the face that you almost rarely got to see these days. What you couldn’t ignore was how close he was at this point, your knees slightly touching as his free hand gently toyed with the hairs of your bang and adjusted them to show more of your face, his hooded eyes staring into yours as neither of you spoke for what felt like hours.

“Don’t you ever think we’d be cute together?” He asked boldly, not taking his eyes off yours that were now wide.

You couldn’t find the words to say, let alone speak, so you just let him continue, his hand placing the wine glass down as he wrapped an arm around your waist, a strange tingle going down your spine when he brought his face to yours. You knew Seonghwa’s tolerance level, and two and a half bottles of wine alone wasn’t even close to getting him drunk, but you could definitely tell the alcohol was effecting him.

“Don’t you think it’s reckless to say stuff like this while you’re drunk?” You questioned, giggling in an attempt to play off what you were convincing yourself was a joke.

“I think it was reckless for me to not tell you this for years, but do you know how hard it is being away from someone you love while you’re touring? It really sucks.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that part, your eyes finally focusing to take in his entire appearance, a small gasp leaving your lips at how attractive he was, and not in the platonic way you’ve thought for the past four years.

“Coming home and seeing you is one thing I always look forward to. But coming home and being able to hold you, and kiss you, would really make it worthwhile.”

As Seonghwa leaned in, inching closer to press his lips to yours, your eyes closing instinctively as you waited for the much desired collision, everything felt so right. Until the two and a half bottles of wine he chugged finally caught up with him. He immediately pulled back and clenched his eyes shut, his throat burning as he felt the sudden urge to vomit, the sound of his retching slipping through his pursed lips and you immediately forgot this moment, rushing him to the nearest bathroom as he sob mentally at how everything went wrong so fast.

Yunho

(I’d commit crimes just to stand next to this man is2g)

You were mentally cursing at yourself for bringing Yunho to this wedding with you. You knew he would be drinking tonight but to get absolutely drunk seemed like a personal attack on you. You watched him stumble back towards you on the dance floor with a glass of dark liquor, a wide and goofy smile on his face as he stood behind you and wrapped an arm around your neck, laying his head onto yours with almost all of his weight. Whether it be that moment or carrying him to the car, you were going to be squished to death by the end of the night.

“Do you want some?” He asked cutely, bringing the glass to your lips before you shook your head, refusing as you finally managed to turn around in his grasp to face him.

“I’m driving, remember? But this doesn’t mean you can drink all you want.”

He whined as you snatched the glass from him before he could take a sip, giving a fake glare before smiling widely at you. In the blink of an eye, his arms moving down to your waist to hoist you up, a loud gasp leaving you as he pressed his lips to your face and neck repeatedly.

“You’re so cute when you’re bossy. You’re always trying to look after me.” He cooed into your neck, not letting up on his touchiness.

Your face was hot as you noticed a few acquaintances and family members looking in your direction, your eyes diverting in embarrassment.

“Get off, Yunho. People are looking at us.” You warned, using your free hand to push him away, his typical large puppy-like eyes and deep frown making your heart clench.

“Are you embarrassed of me?”

“No! I just don’t want everyone to get the wrong idea about us.”

“So what?!” You nearly jumped out of his arms from the outburst, but he wasn’t stopping yet.

“What if I want people to think we’re together? We’d be a great couple so it’d make sense! Why can’t we just be together now?”

A smirk slowly crept onto your face. Honestly, the idea didn’t sound half bad. Who wouldn’t want to be with a tall and attractive idol, especially one you’ve known most of your life? So you let him have his fun for the night, slowly growing used to his over the top clinginess and childlike playful nature, knowing you’ll have your own fun teasing him about it tomorrow.

Yeosang

You actually came to the small get together just a few minutes ago, Ateez and their staff sitting around the large table in the back of the restaurant and booze flowing through most of their veins at this point. Before you could take a seat, you heard a loud gasp and a(n attempted) whisper of your name, your head snapping to the source of the voice that just so happened to be your fairy-like friend.

“Why are you so late? You were supposed to be here sooner. I saved you a seat next to me.” He said while standing, watching as you slowly made your way to the seat he had refused anyone else to occupy.

The bittersweet part about drunk Yeosang was that he was the opposite of who he was in his everyday life. His emotions were laid out then and there, all of his clingy and desperate feelings towards you coming out as he clumsily tried to charm you. You loved it. It was adorable and sweet, even if he probably wouldn’t remember his actions in the morning. But tonight, he would do something that not even he would forget once sober.

You refrained from drinking in case the rest of the sober staff needed another designated driver, offering to take the boys yourself since you basically had a handle on them when they drink like this. You tried to grab more beef, Yeosang immediately grabbing your bowl and doing it for you while you playfully shoved him.

“Why do you keep doing that? I’m the one that’s supposed to take care of you tonight.”

“You’re always supposed to do things for the people you love.” He reassured, your hands holding his steady as he finally placed the bowl back onto the table.

“Why not help Mingi then? You two are like brothers.” You joked, motioning to the younger boy struggling to even grasp the food with his chopsticks properly.

“I’m not in love with Mingi.”

Your face was hot from how seriously he said it, and how he stared at you with such an intense yet unfocused gaze while doing it. Your face grew hotter once you realized a few people around the table were indeed staring, wondering what the next move would be now that he’s confessed. Yeosang was a bit bashful at this point, the alcohol making it easy to hide his blush, but he wasn’t going to backtrack on his words. Not even if he wanted to.

After a minute of waiting, everyone redirected their attention, even Yeosang looked away from you seeing that you weren’t responding, his typical reserved behavior returning and making you feel a bit guilty. Although you’d prefer a sober confession from him, you still felt like you owed him some kind of answer for now, even if you’d do it all over again when he was in the right state of mind. But being vocal about it in front of everyone here would just add to your demure. Yeosang still didn’t look up but gave a small smile at the feeling of your hand grabbing his beneath the table.

San

You could tell it was still pretty late at night so you let yourself fall deeper into slumber, ignoring the sounds of your front and bedroom doors opening and closing, the sound of clothing falling to the ground as well as the feeling of the side of your bed dipping in. You weren’t even alarmed when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a bare torso that you happily snuggled into, the strong sent of alcohol burning your nose.

Until you realized you lived alone.

You shot up immediately and screamed, drawing your hand back to punch the intruder when you saw a disheveled San lying in bed, eyes closed and body curled slightly as he attempted to get comfortable.

“What the fuck are you doing here? And where are your clothes?” You growled, pushing at his head until he finally looked at you.

“Your place was closer than the dorms.” He croaked out, ignoring both your last question and angry scowl to pull you back down and onto his chest, your eyes not leaving his face.

“Closer from where exactly?”

“The bar.” You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself up, much to his dismay.

“You know I hate when you go out alone like this. Last time I had to get you from two towns over because the boys weren’t with you. Do you know how irresponsible and careless that is?” You scolded.

San had a bit of a habit when drinking: wandering off to unknown places with no plan. Sometimes he’d be with Wooyoung but he’d always end up calling you to pick him up just for you to find him alone, completely drunk yet smiling as if nothing were wrong. You weren’t angry at him, just scared. The idea he would be anywhere with anyone getting into God knows what kind of trouble made you stay away from his drunken activities entirely, not wanting to plague your mind with worse case scenarios. But now, you weren’t keeping this to yourself, his nonchalant attitude pissing you off more than you’d like it to.

“What if you end up miles away and some sasaengs kidnap you? Or what if you’re just kidnapped by anyone? Or worse? You can’t call me to get you if that happens.”

“You always think about the negative stuff.” He whined, sitting up and now fully engaging with you in your tirade.

“One of us has to since you don’t seem to care. I’m allowed to be worried about whether or not my friends stay safe.”

“If that’s all we are, then you shouldn’t care so much.” He said with a deep monotone voice and harsh glare.

San wasn’t always his usual happy self when he drank, sometimes he was serious, so serious it almost always intimidated you. So seeing his once hooded eyes open and staring straight into yours as if he wasn’t drifting off to sleep just a minute ago made you anxious, not sure if this would turn into an argument or he’d just let it go. But you didn’t want to back down from your half-assed intervention now.

“D-don’t confess to me just so we can change the subject.”

“I’m not confessing to you to change the subject, I’m confessing because I like you. I don’t want you to care about when I drink, I’ll always be safe when I go out, but I want you to care about me the way I care about you. Care about if we’re making each other happy, and if we’re not stressed after working all day. I don’t want you to care as my friend because you love me, just care about me because you’re in love with me.”

You felt like your head was spinning. Choi San, the boxer cladded male in your bed that stunk of what you could only assume was beer and rum, telling you he was in love with you in the most coherent and brilliant way possible, only to pass out not even a second later. You felt like you were in a fever dream yet you weren’t asleep, and you sure as well weren’t going to get any now that you were debating on if you were prepared to accept his feelings right away or wait until he told you properly before getting your hopes up.

Mingi

So many things were wrong with tonight, the first being that a housewarming party should never be this rowdy, especially when the host wasn’t around. The second thing? The host being pressed against their bedroom door as their best friend desperately made out with them.

You weren’t entirely sure how this all happened, one second you were doing shots and dancing in your living room, next you were yelling at Mingi for falling over and breaking the glass he was drinking from, and now you were shoving your tongue down his throat as he clumsily tried to pull off your shirt. You both reek of tequila and gin, both of you hesitating on continuing your kiss as the smell was a bit much, Mingi taking the initiative to remove his lips from yours, a gentle whimper leaving your mouth as you stared at him.

Your eyes were completely filled with lust, which excited and scared Mingi a bit, his own eyes soft as he examined you approaching him, attempting to remove his shirt but he stepped away immediately, your face dropping at the sudden shift in mood.

“What’s wrong?” You asked cautiously.

Mingi didn’t know how to respond. You were both intoxicated, sure, but he was still sober enough to know this isn’t what he wanted, at least not this way. He wanted to be with you for more than just one night and be more than just your best friend that you had a quick fling with. He wanted a relationship, something serious that 12 year old Mingi could’ve only hoped and dreamed for. At this moment, it was starting to feel like it would only remain a dream. Unless he did something completely spontaneous to throw both of you off. Which he did.

“Mingi, why are you crying?” You asked incredulously, rushing to wipe the tears falling from his face, honestly annoyed as you tried to suppress the sudden buildup of hormones from a few seconds prior.

“I don’t want to sleep with you.” He admitted, a wave of disappointment coming over you, but him changing his mind was nothing to be upset over.

“That’s fine, but you don’t have to cry about it.”

“You don’t get it. If we sleep together, then that’ll be it. We won’t have a genuine relationship because it’ll just be about sex, and I don’t want you to think I’m just using you when I ask you out because I really do like you.”

You sighed and wrapped your arms around him as he cried, wanting to be amused that your best friend was an emotional drunk, but flustered at the fact he actually wanted to have a relationship with you, suddenly the dreams of 12 year old you and 12 year old Mingi finally becoming reality.

“How about, if we aren’t too hungover tomorrow, we go on a real date? That way our relationship can be completely genuine.” A smile forming on your lips as he nodded slowly.

Considering you both went back to partying immediately after that conversation, you decided to have your date at home while suffering with your hangovers together.

Wooyoung

You rolled over in bed as your phone chimed for the fifth time in a row, a deep scowl on your face once it chimed once more, grabbing it from your side table to figure out who the hell would be bothering you at 3 in the morning.

“Fucking Wooyoung.” You mumbled as you read through the messages.

None of them made sense, except one asking if you were up. You were about to respond to ask what he wanted before your phone began to ring, your reflection staring back as Wooyoung was trying to FaceTime you, only to answer and see complete darkness.

“Wooyoung?”

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t ‘huh’ me. Why are you texting and calling me? Do you know what time it is?”

“Ah! (Y/n)!” He said happily, your face grimacing once he finally put the camera on him. He was wasted.

“You were drinking, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. But I wanted to see you so I left.” He giggled slightly, turning behind him as if someone were following him.

“Wooyoung, where are you?” You asked, suddenly concerned once you realized he passed several streetlights and could have been anywhere and all alone.

“I’m at the k-“

“Wooyoung, where the hell are you going?!” Hongjoong yelled from a few feet away, trailing the younger boy with an annoyed look.

“I wanted to talk to (Y/n)!” Wooyoung called back, returning his focus to you and giving a large smile.

“You could’ve just called her in the hallway!”

“It’s still too loud! I wanted to hear their voice!”

You sat back quietly and listened to them go back and forth, Hongjoong finally catching up to him and forcibly dragging him back towards the karaoke bar they were at. Though you could understand why Hongjoong was upset, Wooyoung and San being known to wander off without the other’s knowing and not returning for hours sometimes, it was kinda sweet to hear that he was thinking of you while out with his group members.

“You’re seriously so childish.”

“You’ve just never been in love before.” Wooyoung said sullenly, his phone aimed downwards as he reentered the building.

You were glad he wasn’t staring at your expression, having head what he said but unsure if he even heard himself. Was he really in love with you? It seemed pretty hard to tell since he gave you the same amount of affection as everyone else, but sometimes he would go the extra mile just to make you happy, even without you asking, so maybe it was true. Or maybe you were getting ahead of yourself.

“(Y/n)!” Wooyoung whined, pouting as his eyes glanced over to Hongjoong who wasn’t leaving his side until they were back inside of their rented room.

“Hongjoong told me to call you later, so I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Call them tomorrow night so they can sleep.” You chuckled weakly at Hongjoong correcting him, biting your bottom lip as you decided to hold off on the many questions you had running through your head for when he was sober.

“Just have fun, okay? I love you and I’ll talk to you later.” You said quickly, hanging up before the moment lingered for too long, hoping he at least heard your own confession.

Jongho

You told him to come to the bar with you, to cut loose for once and have fun. You thought a few shots and a couple of beers would be enough to have him lose his typically uptight stature, you didn’t think you’d be stuck with an unstoppable faucet of pent up emotion.

Jongho spent the entirety of the night drinking and telling you his worries, although you didn’t mind letting him vent, you were just worried as his thoughts grew darker and weirder with each drink, you finally taking charge and leading him out of the bar and towards your car.

“Do you think I’ll do well in life?” He asked as you finally placed his seatbelt on before doing yours and starting the car.

“Of course I do. You’re doing great so far and, knowing you, you’ll keep it up.” You answered honestly, pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards his dorm.

Jongho continued to speak, you answering whenever he asked questions then remaining silent so he could pick up where he left off, until he brought up a topic that really caught your attention.

“Sometimes I think I won’t find true love as an idol. It’s so hard to show people the real me, so what if I find someone who expects me to be Ateez’s Jongho and I’m just regular Jongho?” You giggled softly, keeping your eyes focused on the road as you responded.

“If they can’t accept regular Jongho, they don’t deserve regular Jongho. But they should at least know regular and Ateez Jongho are a package deal and both are amazing.”

“But would you want to be with regular Jongho?” You stayed silent for a few seconds, partially because you weren’t expecting that question and partially because you’ve thought this over way too many times and didn’t think you’d be confessing so suddenly.

“I mean, of course. We’ve been friends since birth, we know each other so well. I feel like it’d make sense.”

Despite wanting that to be the end of the conversation, embarrassed to be spilling your heart out to someone who wouldn’t even remember this conversation the next day, Jongho persisted, sitting upright in his seat and looking in your direction, eyes practically burning a hole into your skin.

“So why don’t you?”

“I-“ This is the first question to stump you. What’s stopping you from dating Jongho?

“It’d just interfere with your idol life. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“I make time for you now so I’ll do the same when we’re together.”

“’When we’re together’?” You laughed loudly, suddenly enjoying the sudden boost of confidence.

“It might not be today, or tomorrow, or even for a couple of more years, but I know we’ll be together eventually. And I’ll wait for you until we are.”

You chose to stay quiet once more, the remainder of the car ride in silence as you thought over his words, still believing confessing to a drunk person, one that is now asleep against the passenger side window, would be the same as talking to a brick wall. It wouldn’t take years, but you knew soon you’d be with Jongho and, if he managed to remember this night at all, it’d surely be tomorrow.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

A Death Sentence

[Credit gif by @rainbow-motors​ ]

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Implied smut

Prompts: “I don’t owe you an explanation,” “Loving me is a death sentence.”

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,201

Summary: Dean and the Reader have a fight after a hunt. Nothing even went wrong, but feelings are realized.

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: I couldn’t, for the life of me figure out a title. But this is for @supernatural-jackles​ SPN Bi-Weekly/Monthly writing challenge and these are the prompts I picked. I picked monthly but, I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m just going with it.

~

“Anything?” Dean asks. Sam, him and Y/N search the warehouse for the vampires that had made headlines for killing so many people in a short period of time. Now they’re here to put a stop to it.

Latest victim was a college student, out of state, moved here to go to school. Classmates said she was on edge, anxious all the time and just figured it was because she was far from home. Seemed logical.

“Nothing.” Sam shouts from his spot on the higher levels, coming out into the open in the main most center spot of the warehouse.

“Clear from where I am.” She says, coming into the main area from the lower levels.

“Damn, did we lose them?” Dean asks.

“Maybe.” Sam says, coming down the stairs to meet with Dean. Y/N doing the same, ascending the stairs to meet with the boys.

Sam and Dean were close, Y/N still had a few feet before she was with them and she noticed a few dark figures closing in on her friends.

“Behind you!” she shouts, running in to fight off the three vamps that snuck behind them.

One lunged at Dean knocking him onto his back, another swung at Sam flinging him a few feet from where he stood. And another side tackled Y/N to the ground.

She took the momentum of her roll to her advantage, pushing herself up in one motion from the fall. The vamp trying to close in, but Y/N swung her machete cutting the head off in one swift motion.

Sam managed to fight off his attacker, slicing the head off in an upward swing as the female vamp charged.

Dean struggled with his attacker. He must have knocked Dean’s machete out of his hand when he landed on the floor. The vamp managed to get a hand at Dean’s throat forcing him to expose his neck to the vamp.

“Hey!” Y/N shouts. “It’s me you want!” she says.

With blood lust eyes, the vampire looked up at Y/N.

“Y/N! No, don’t play hero!” Sam shouted.

“Bute Montana, that was your allied nest. Not very big, believe your mate was Wynonna, she took a bite at me, but things didn’t pan out for her.” She says.

The vamp rose, taking long strides over to Y/N. She readied her machete. “She spoke about you, Kyle.” She says.

He growled at her. Taking a swing, but Y/N ducks to avoid it. And when she tried to swing her machete at him, he blocked and knocked it out of her hand. She saw Dean behind him, machete in hand, readies a swing.

“She always said you were easy to fool.” Y/N adds with a smirk.

Before he could turn around to attack Dean, Dean swung the machete. Ending the killings in Columbus Ohio.

She released a sigh in relief, but Dean just glared at her.

Y/N rolls her eyes. Oh, get over yourself, he was going to kill you. I had to do something. She thought.

The ride back to the motel was a quiet one, but the tension was there. You could even cut it with a knife.

Everyone though knew Dean was pissed when he slams the car door shut, even the trunk door when he grabbed his duffle.

They got one room available, thankfully with two beds. But no so much for Y/N. Dean was pissed and it’s always the same thing. And it just made her feel like no matter what she did, even if the hunt ended great with no one hurt, like she wasn’t good enough.

“The fuck were you thinking!” Dean yelled, when Sam entered behind Y/N, shutting the door behind them.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad!” Y/N shouted. “I saved you, no one got hurt. What’s the big deal?” she asked.

“The big deal is, you risked your life when you didn’t have to.” Dean shouted. “Why do you always do that?” he adds. Growling in frustration.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.” She snaps.

“I think you do; he would have killed you if I hadn’t had him.” Dean says.

“No, I don’t owe you anything. I saved you, you still got to kill the vamp. No one got hurt. Happy ending. Now let’s just get over it.” She says.

“No, I’m not getting over this. In fact, I’m benching you. This is the third time a monster nearly has our asses, you do this. It’s like you’re asking for it.” Dean says.

“I’m not, I’m using it as a distraction, and it works.” She argues.

“Well it’s a shit idea, oldest play in the play book. No wonder you’re a shit hunter.” Dean says.

“Dean!” Sam shouts.

But the damage was done. The words cut like knifes at her heart. Hunting was something she loved to do. Something close to making a difference in this dark world she lived in.

“Well if I’m being such a pain, I’ll just leave.” She says. Picking up her back up and storms out of the room.

“Way to go dick.” Sam scoffs.

“Whatever, she’ll be back. Let’s get some sleep.” Dean says.

She never did. She kept walking down the street until she got to a bar in town.

I need a drink. She thought. Finding a spot at the bar, waving down a bartender.

“What can I get you little lady?” he says. A sweet southern accent to his tone.

“Whisky, neat.” She says.

“Coming right up,” he says, getting her glass and giving her somewhat of a generous amount of whiskey. “Rough night?” he asks.

“You have no idea.” She says, throwing back the drink. Welcoming the burn, it caused going down her throat.

“Let me know if you need anything darlin’.” He says, tending to the other patrons of the bar. Leaving her the bottle of whisky.

She gives herself another glass full.

“Hey beautiful.” A deep voice said behind her. Her back tensed. His voice gave her the creeps.

“Not interested, back off.” She says.

“Oh, feisty. I like that.” He says. “I’m Jason.” He introduces.

“Jason, you’re going to be introduced to my knee to your groin if you don’t back off.” She says glaring at him.

“A ball of spitfire at that. Bet your just as amazing in bed as you are at making friends.” He says.

“Worst. Pick up line. Ever.” She says with a groan. Getting frustrated and annoyed.

He places a hand on her shoulder. She shrugs him off harshly.

“I don’t recall saying you can touch.” She shouts.

“I always get what I want, and I say, I want you and I’ll fucking get you.” He says aggressively. His hand having a death grip on her bicep.

Fucking fuck, I’m fucked. She thought.

Her knee found its way to his groin, and he went down fast and hard.

She took her duffle and went into the women’s restroom, locking up behind her.

She can’t run, the duffle not only slows her down, but she doesn’t have a vehicle to get away.

She grabs her cellphone, calling the one number she doesn’t want to call right now. But she needs him to rescue her.

“Hello?” Dean answers after a few rings.

“Dean.” She says, coming out a whimper.

“Y/N? What is it? Are you okay?” He’s already concerned.

“I need you. I’m at a bar up the main road, not far from the motel. There’s this guy, he’s trying to…” she trails as sobs begin to erupt.

“It’s okay sweetheart, I’m coming now. Just stay where you are.” Dean says.

“I’m in the women’s restroom. I’ll wait for you.” She says. Hanging up.

She sits in the corner stall, sitting on the stool with knees up to her chest. The always tough and badass hunter scared out of her wits.

It didn’t take long, roughly ten minutes after hanging up from Dean, there was a knock at the door.

“Sweetheart, it’s me, Dean.” She heard.

She hurries to the door. Unlocking it to reveal Dean, concern etched all over. Replaced the anger she saw earlier.

“Where is this dick?” he asks when he sees her with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“The bar, tall muscular build. He’s about Sam’s size but more muscular.” She says.

Dean turned his head to the side to see from the corner of his eye this asshole.

She could see Dean tense up, wanting to just make the dude pay for hurting her.

“Dean, I just want to get out of here. Please.” She pleads.

“Alright, stay close sweetheart.” He says, taking her hand.

Her bag still in hand, she takes Dean’s, he pulls her close to his side. As he walks with her to navigate out, Jason approached.

“Hey, come on darlin’, you don’t need this shorty here.” He slurs.

“Dude, I told you I’m not interested. Now leave me alone.” She tells him.

“Come on baby, I’ll make you feel so good.” He continues.

“Pal, she said to lay off.” Dean says, putting his hand out to tell Jason to keep his distance. If he’d listen to him.

“Kiss my ass pretty boy.” Jason insults, shoving Dean’s hand out of the way.

“Okay.” Dean goes. Mildly annoyed and frustrated. He gets himself between Y/N and the dick. And reels his fist back and punches Jason, knocking him out cold. “There.” Dean goes, taking Y/N back into his side, keeping her safe.

The drive back the motel was a quiet one, but Dean didn’t show that he was upset. And Dean could read her as well and he didn’t want to upset her any more than she was.

Once back, she had seen Sam was sound asleep in one of the beds. Dean quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Why don’t you take a hot shower, relax a little bit.” Dean suggests.

She agrees silently. Taking her clothes from her duffle she heads to the bathroom, and silently takes a shower.

She exits the shower, more relaxed but still a feeling of not being good enough was eating at her.

Dean was already down in the other bed. She settled with sleeping on the couch.

“Sweetheart, you need a bed to sleep in. I won’t bite.” Dean whispers.

“I don’t want to right now.” She says.

“Then do you want to talk about our fight from earlier?” Dean says. She stays silent. He could see her curl up inside of herself. She doesn’t want to.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t mean it. You’re not a shit hunter. I just said that because I was mad. You’re an excellent hunter. I just don’t like it that you put yourself in danger like that.” He adds.

“I just can’t stand to see you get hurt when I could do something to prevent it. So, I act. Anything I can do to help protect the man I love.” She whispers.

“You don’t wanna let yourself love me sweetheart, loving me is like a death sentence. Everyone I ever loved has either left me or died.” Dean says quietly.

“Too late Dean, I love you and you can’t make me stop.” She says.

“You’re right. Because I love you to sweetheart. And it scares me when you do stuff like that.” Dean admits.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you.” She says softly.

“Can you come here now, so I can hold you.” Dean says, making room for her in the bed with him.

She doesn’t hesitate. She gets up, and crawls in, curling up into Dean. Snuggling her face his chest.

Dean laid on his side, he works his arms around her to hold her close. She snuggles more into him. And she lets her walls break down, and she lets go of the stress of the night.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m right here. Let it all out.” Dean whispers, as he draws soothing circles in her back.

She calmed down a bit before looking up at Dean, in the dark, moonlit room.

She could see the softness in his face. She felt him dip his head down, giving her a soft, gentle kiss on her lips.

It took her a moment to kiss him back once she registered in her brain that Dean Winchester just kissed her. And now she was kissing him back. It was better than she had imagined.

The kiss growing into something deeper and hungrier as they discarded their clothes, Dean showing just how much he loves his girl.

The next morning Sam was the first up and at ‘em, once he enters the room after a morning run to find them full dressed and decent, he was actually relieved that she was back and happy.

“Glad to see things are okay again.” He says as he sees Dean kiss Y/N on the cheek while they make breakfast in the kitchenette. “But please, next time you guys do make up sex…try to wait until we get home.” He says. His face disgusted by the sounds he heard last night.

The statement made Y/N laugh, giving the younger Winchester an apologetic smile. “Sorry Sam.” She says.

“Yeah, sorry Sammy. We’ll keep that in mind next time.” Dean says. Kissing Y/N on the mouth, passionately. Earning a groan from Sam.

Y/N and Dean smiling against their kiss. Oh, this is going to be fun.

~

Tags:

@supernatural-jackles​ - for the writing challenge

@pandazombie69​

@luci-in-trenchcoats​

@becs-bunker​

@winchesters-favorite-girl​

@mlovesstories​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 09/16/2020

[prolestariwrites]

Somewhere In Between

Fandom: Devil May Cry Pairing: Dante/Lady Rating: Explicit Tags: Friendship, Friends with Benefits, First Time, Sex Word Count: 3619

Summary: Dante has never had friends, until Lady comes along and changes all that.

¤━━━¤°¤━━━¤°¤━━━¤°¤━━━¤

Dante didn't have friends. Friends meant time, and investment, and sharing stuff about yourself. He didn't have time and he didn't make investments and he sure as hell wasn't telling anyone he was the half-demon son of the savior of humanity turned orphaned devil hunter.

Which is why knowing Lady had always been… strange. After Temen-ni-gru, he expected to never see her again considering how much she had suffered. Seeing Dante would surely just dredge all that up; after all, he didn't go around the places he had been chased out of, and visiting his childhood home was out of the question. Why poke at old wounds? Let demons lie, Dante always told himself.

But not Lady. She kept showing up. She was at the Devil May Cry the day after the tower disappeared, laughing with her arms folded at the mess his shop was in. "What the hell did you do?" she had teased as she stepped over the broken billiard table.

Dante had glanced over his shoulder in surprise from where he was trying to patch a hole in the wall. "Demons attacked right after Arkham stopped by. What are you doing here?"

Lady shrugged. "Thought I'd check to see if you were dead or not. Since you're not gonna offer me a seat, do you need some help?"

Not one to look a gift set of hands in the mouth, he had accepted, and together they had loaded up the trash and put all the broken bits of furniture in the dumpster behind the bagel shop on the corner. Again, he had expected that to be it, but Lady came back again, and again, helping him paint over the drywall and put together a new pool table and even sweeping. After about a week the shop was liveable again, and she perched on his desk (which he had told her a hundred times not to do), swiping a slice of pizza from the box (another thing he kept telling her not to do) and said, "So when do I get paid?"

"What?"

Lady shrugged. "I've been working for you for a week. Is this like a bi-weekly thing or something?"

Dante snorted and leaned back in his chair. "I didn't hire you, and I'm not paying you."

She made an indignant grunt and threw the pizza crust at him, hitting him in the chest. "Then why the hell have you been having me do all this?" she shouted.

"I thought you were being nice!" he protested. "Besides, I don't have any money. Have you seen me work?"

Lady flipped him off and stormed out of the shop, leaving Dante with mixed feelings. One on hand it was way quieter, and easier to do what he wanted without her hanging around: namely, sleep and scratch himself. But she was some kind of company, and dealing with her meant he didn't have to deal with remembering Vergil falling off of the side of the tower.

Two days later she had shown up with a wad of hundred dollar bills. "There," she said, pushing it into his hand. "Now you can pay me."

Dante made a face. "Where did you get this?"

Lady rolled her eyes and slipped two bills from the roll. "I did some jobs. I'm a devil hunter, just like you. Only I can't go legit because I can't open a business since I'm not eighteen. So you're gonna pay me, and I'll take a cut."

He had been taken aback by that: he was nineteen himself, and Lady always seemed way older. At least way more mature. He had figured she was in her twenties at least. "No way. I'm not some kind of… demon hunting pimp."

"Are you stupid? We'll make twice as much if we work together!"

"No." Dante handed back the money, but Lady folded her arms and stared at him defiantly. Finally Dante had rolled his eyes and asked, "When do you turn 18?"

"Two months."

"Fine. Work for me until then. Then you're on your own."

"Fine. Want to play poker?"

That's how it started, this weird friendship that wasn't a friendship. Lady worked jobs and he paid her, and she hung around the shop helping with whatever she felt like. In their downtime they traded stories of fighting monsters and playing cards until Dante owed her more than a month's salary. Jobs trickled in, which they took turns doing, unless Dante was busy with the more mundane tasks of management. Being a business owner was more complicated than Dante had figured, and the first time the lights went off, she pitched a huge fit until he conceded and handed the bills over to her to figure out.

She showed up suddenly one day with a bottle of gin and a cake, declaring it her birthday. "Finally," Dante had muttered, even as he gratefully accepted a shot and a slice. Lady just laughed, the two of them getting wasted to celebrate.

But she was back the next day, sunglasses masking a hangover and a grouchy expression. "Don't talk to me," she mumbled as she laid down on the leather couch.

"What are you doing here?" Dante asked.

"I work here, numbnuts," Lady grumbled. "Now shut up, my head is killing me."

He didn't kick her out; instead, he got her an ice pack and a coffee, and they just kept going. Months went by, arguing more often than getting along, working side by side or on their own as the other watched the shop. The business wasn't doing very well, but enough to keep pizza on the table, until in frustration Lady demanded some changes. "We need to advertise, Dante!" she shouted, one hand pressed to the top of his desk as he peeked over his magazine. "We're never gonna get jobs if people don't know we exist. You don't even have a business card or anything! This isn't a damn lemonade stand, this is our livelihood!"

"What do you want me to do?" he argued back, dropping the magazine and folding his arms. "Not like I can take an ad out in the Yellow Pages. 'Got a demon? I'll come kill it for ya.' Yeah, that won't get both of us in jail, or the nut house."

Lady huffed, blowing her bangs out of her forehead, but she didn't offer an argument. Dante smirked at her as she tapped her foot until finally she said, "Then what we need is a broker. Someone to find us work, manage our jobs."

"Yeah okay." He picked up the magazine and opened it, lifting it high enough to block her out. "Good luck, let me know how that goes."

Well fuck it all, didn't she bring Morrison by three days later, and Dante had to admit she was right.

So it was friendship, maybe? A partnership, sure. They are used to each other at least, and Morrison proves to be good at delivering for his fifteen percent. Things go on an upswing, and Dante manages to keep afloat and pay Lady on time.

A few more months go by, and on Lady's next birthday, he surprises her with another bottle of gin.

She gives him her half smile and pulls her own bottle out of the bag. "Let's do this."

Friends, okay, yes. That's what Dante thinks as he watches Lady pour out three shots for him and three for herself, sitting across the desk from one another. He could be friends with her; she knew stuff about him, enough anyway, and had put the investment in, and they had worked together now over a year. Finally comfortable with the label, he lifts his shot and clinks it against hers. "Happy Birthday," he says.

"Thanks." They both drink their shot, turning the glass over on the table when drained, and Lady looks at him pointedly. "So why haven't we had sex yet?"

Dante sputters, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth before gaping at her. "What?"

"You and me," Lady says, gesturing between them. "We haven't had sex yet."

Dante makes a face and picks up the next shot. He knocks it back as she yelps, "Hey!" Lady glares at him and drinks her own, wincing a tiny bit as it goes down before she continues, "What is it? Don't you want to?"

"What?"

"Are you not attracted to me?"

"What?"

"I've had a lot of offers, Dante. A lot. I would think you'd want—"

He reaches for the third shot, but Lady is quicker. She snatches it away, holding both his and hers under her palms as they glare at one another over the table. "I ain't listening to this, not sober anyway."

Lady rolls her eyes. "Come on, I'm serious. We should have sex."

"Why?" he exclaims.

She shrugs a shoulder. "I don't know. It's not like you're seeing anyone. Neither am I. No time to date in this business and they just get eaten anyway. It would be nice to be able to just… let off some steam."

"First of all," he says, planting his elbow on the table and lifting a finger, "you're way too young for me."

"I'm a year younger than you," she scoffs.

"Second, you're not my type."

"Oh really." Lady laughs nodding at the picture on his desk. "What's your type, blonde?"

Dante refuses to take the bait, lifting a third finger. "Finally, I'm your boss. And it would be illegal and inappropriate."

Lady rolls her eyes. "Since when are you legal or appropriate? Besides… here, take the shot."

She hands him the glass, and Dante eyes her suspiciously as they both drink. With the last shot finished, Lady looks down uncomfortably, studying the six empty glasses on the table. "I'm quitting."

"What? Why?" he exclaims. It must have come out louder than he intended, because Lady looks up sharply. "What do you mean, you're quitting? 'Cause I won't have sex with you?"

"No!" she laughs. "I have enough to start my own business. And you need to do this on your own. Morrison has enough jobs for us both, and if I go on my own, I can branch out, do some traveling—"

"Okay, okay," Dante sighs, waving his hand. So much for friends. He should have figured she would be wanting out at some point, and he presses his lips together tightly as they stare at one another. "Fine. I get it."

She smiles unexpectedly. "I'll still be around. You owe me a lot of money from cards." Dante blushes and Lady stands. "Now that that's settled, you've got no more excuses. Let's have sex."

"Wait, this is—" He's cut off when she slides over the desk and lands in his lap facing him, settling on his thighs as her arms go around his shoulders. The wheels on the chair roll a bit with the impact, and Lady perches forward, pressing her chest against his. Dante studies her face, but she's still sober, the telltale shimmer in her pupils not there, no flush on her nose. Besides, he had seen her drink loads of times, and three shots of gin was nothing to a pro like Lady.

"Dante," she says quietly. "You're the only friend I've ever had. I don't trust anybody else, but I'm going a bit crazy. If you promise not to fall in love with me, I will let you rail me any way you'd like. Now what do you say?"

He blinks in surprise. Her crude language barely registered, because she called them friends? That calms his nerves a bit, and as Lady wriggles a bit in his lap, he has to admit, he's intrigued. "Friends with benefits," he murmurs. "How do I know you won't fall in love with me?"

Lady gives a deep sigh and he laughs. "Yeah, okay," Dante replies. "Fine, but just this once."

She grins before leaning in to press her mouth on his. It's awkward for a half second until he remembers to close his eyes, and his hands settle on her waist as he lets Lady take the lead. Her lips slide over his, tugging until they open, and he manages to stop a startled noise when her tongue presses between them.

Her hands slip into his coat, and Dante has a mild bit of panic. The truth is that he hadn't done this before: not even kissed a girl, let alone had one on his lap, pressed against his growing erection and pawing at his chest. His fingers squeeze her hips, not knowing what to do, and when she pushes the fabric over his shoulder he is half dead and half relieved when she pulls back and says, "Let's go to your bedroom."

The room is a mess as always, and he feels a tiny bit of embarrassment as she surveys the dirty clothes strewn around and the mess of blankets and pillows on the bed. "Uh, the sheets are clean—" he tries to assure her, but Lady has her arms around him and pulls him into another kiss, cutting him off.

"Bed," she orders, and Dante obeys. He pulls his boots off before sitting on the bed, and then stops to gape as she unbuckles the belt on her shorts and slips them down her legs. Her own shoes are gone, so she stands in just panties and a loose blouse, which she pulls over her head. She's not wearing a bra, and he gapes at her body.

"You gonna…" Lady prompts, nodding at him.

"Oh. Yeah." He pulls his own tshirt off and tosses it away, then stands to undo his belt. Lady moves in front of him and pulls down his zipper, and Dante swallows thickly as she smiles up at him.

"Let's see what oh my god," she says, her eyes going wide when she slips her hand inside. He nearly jumps out of his skin when her hand closes around his dick, half hard already, and heat flashes up his neck when Lady looks utterly confused. "Are you serious?"

He shakes his head. "What?"

"Take your pants off, I gotta see this."

Alarmed and embarrassed, Dante shucks his jeans and underpants down, leaving him naked to her wide-eyed stare. "Wow," she whispers.

"Is that good?" he asks.

Lady looks up at him and grins. "We're gonna have fun."

And it is fun; Lady doesn't hold back, touching him all over and letting him touch her too, his kisses growing bolder as he gets more comfortable with the idea. He likes her breasts best for sure, sucking eagerly on the little pink buds and kneading her flesh in his hands until she tells him she's not a radio and to give it a rest. For her part, she seems to know just what to do, and when they switch positions so she's on top, her mouth on his chest drives him nuts and he tries to figure out how to ask her to use it on his cock, where her hand is stroking him lightly.

But he doesn't need to, because she declares herself ready and hops off the bed to remove her panties. Dante sits up on his elbows to watch, his eyes focusing in on the space between her thighs. His mouth goes dry when she stands naked in front of him, and he stares so intensely that he misses her question. "What?" he stammers.

"Do you have a condom?"

Dante swallows. "No, I… I mean, I'm half demon, so ya know…"

Lady rolls her eyes. "I'm not risking it and having some weirdo demon spawn." She grabs her shorts and pulls one from the pocket, opening it as she climbs on the bed. "Have you done this before?" she asks, eyeing him.

"Uh…"

"Didn't think so." She gives a little laugh as she rolls the rubber on, and Dante watches closely, trying to follow her movements. Then she swings her leg over to straddle him again, pressing his length between her legs. The rubber doesn't dull things nearly as much as he had assumed, feeling her heat through the condom, her folds softer than he had imagined they would be. "This is lubricated, so it should help," she pants as she grinds against him.

Dante nods, not entirely sure what that means. Before he knows it she lifts her hips to position her body over him, and he watches in a sweet anticipation as his cock disappears inside her. "Fuck," she pants, huffing a laugh as she presses her palms to his chest. "God you are big."

"Should I—"

"Don't move." He nods, laying back, his own hands flat on the bed. Dante longs to touch her, to feel that place where they are joined, or caress her hips, or even grab her chest again. But he is afraid of distracting her, so he stays perfectly still as Lady works as much of him as she can, until more than half of his length is inside. She tilts forward, still panting, and glances down at him. "I think… I think that's as much as I can do… maybe it'll be easier next time."

Dante nods, his eyes wide. Is this it? It can't be, so he waits as she catches her breath. "You alright?" she asks, laughing at his expression.

"Yeah. Just don't want to…" Lady nods, and she pats his shoulder.

Then she moves, and fuck shit son of a bitch it is good. Dante can't stop the groan that leaves him as her body grips him, sliding up and down like a tight, hot glove. It's better than his hand has ever been, even better than hers, and when she finds a nice steady pace his eyes roll back a bit as he fights the urge to thrust upwards into her.

"Dante," she whispers, kissing him, and he eagerly returns it, sucking on her lips as she rides him. Tentatively he reaches up, his palms sliding up and down her sides until he gets the nerve to grab her breasts. She moans when he squeezes her lightly, the sound rocking through him and pushing a new pleasure button, and he does it again, grinning at the pleasure in her voice when he rubs his thumbs on her nipples.

Soon he starts to grow more frantic, the friction proving too much, and despite his best efforts he grabs her hips and thrusts upwards. Lady cries out, but she kisses him feverishly, and he takes that as a good sign. Which is good because he can't hold out much longer, and now that he is bucking under her, Dante can feel himself getting closer to orgasm.

She must sense it, because she whispers, "Are you gonna come?"

"Yeah… yeah…" he pants.

Lady sits up, one hand braced on his stomach as she rides him, and the other reaches between her legs. His eyes go wide as he takes in the sight of her breasts swaying and her fingers quicking stroking herself; it's all too much, and he cries out as the first contraction hits. Dante throws his head back with a hiss as he comes, his seed emptying into the condom as he thrusts with each wave, and when Lady gives a little cry of her own, he can feel himself shake. It's more intense than any he had had before, every muscle tight with the rush.

"Shit.. shit…" she gasps, her head dropping forward and her hand working furiously. His head spins a bit as he watches her, the last of his orgasm rolling in bursts while Lady arches her back, her face twisted with pleasure.

Then it's over, and after she catches her breath again Lady carefully moves off of him. The difference is immediate, his cock softening once the tight grip is gone, and as she sprawls out on the bed with a "Whew!" Dante sits up to try to figure out how to take off the condom.

"You uh…" Dante pauses as he frowns down at his dick, carefully peeling the condom away. "You good?"

"Yeah." He looks around for a moment before grabbing a plastic grocery bag that had been left on the floor. Dante drops it inside and ties off the handles before leaving it on the bedside table. He turns around to see Lady laying on her side, watching him with a chuckle. "Aren't you?" she prompts.

"Yeah," he replies, trying to sound casual. He cocks his hand on his hip before dropping it, trying to mask his embarrassment. "You?"

Lady laughs and rolls off the bed, reaching for her clothes. He gets a really good view of her backside before she straightens, and his brows go up when she pulls her shirt on and leaves the rest on the bed. "Let's go finish that cake, then we can do it again."

Surprised, Dante nods eagerly. "Yeah, yeah, okay—"

"Put some pants on," she scoffs, half teasing and half scolding before heading out the door.

¤━━━¤°¤━━━¤°¤━━━¤°¤━━━¤

Thanks so much for reading! Reblogs are appreciated, and feel free to let me know what you think!

If you liked this and you’re a content creator, don’t forget to check out the @ssszine! Applications are open until June 12, 2020, so make sure you drop by the blog today!

[drinkingdrunk]

More Than This

Season 1 Sam X Reader

Prompts~

“Loving me is a death sentence”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me, but I wanted to see you”

This is for @supernatural-jackles bi-weekly writing challenge :) also the gif is mine, 470+words

You had met Dean on a hunt and decided to hunt together, then jess dies and Sam joined you both, you and Sam became attracted to each other and started to hook up (casual) but one day you decide to tell Sam you want more.

Warnings: a bit of arguing, tiny implication of sex, some drinking, car crash, hospital, a bit of angst and the s*it word (I think I’ve got them all but if I missed any please let me know so I can add them, thanks)

“Why cant we be more?” You ask putting your shirt back on, regretting the words as soon as they came out of your mouth.

Sam sighed as he collapsed back onto the bed hands in his hair.

“Were just casual Y/N, you know this”

“But-”

“Y/N, loving me is a death sentence” He cut you off.

“And its better this way, its just fun and no one gets hurt” He said rolling over in bed to look at you.

“Yeah well this might not be hurting you but I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep pushing away my feelings and pretending its fine, I need more Sammy” you say getting up.

“And as for loving you? If that’s the case I’m already doomed” you begin to sniffle walking over to the door.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s over” you say shutting the door behind you.

Being so worked up in your feelings over Sammy you had completely forgotten about the case.

Until you had stumbled into the taxi after having 8 bottles of beer, and without even asking where you needed to go, the taxi floored it down the motorway onto the bridge.

The bridge where 10 people in the past week had died from a taxi going over the side with no driver to be found.

Shit.

You had been in hospital for a couple of days now, your legs still healing after you broke them from jumping out of a moving vehicle onto a concrete bridge.

Better then being dead though, you supposed.

There was a knock at the door and in popped a familiar face.

“Sorry I hadn’t come till now, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me, but I wanted to see you” Sam spoke with a guilt ridden face, trying to shrink himself.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you? No matter what happens…or doesn’t happen we’re always gonna be friends” you smiled reassuringly.

“Just let me explain” he began coming to sit down next to you.

“After Jess died, all I could think was, if she didn’t know me she would still be here-”

You put your hand on his comfortingly.

“-so when I realized I liked you, I also realized that would put a target on your back, that people would come after you just to hurt me-”

“Sammy, I’m a hunter, having a target is just part of the job” you interjected.

“I know but… If something happened to you, because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, but when you were almost hurt on this case, I realized that you could have died without knowing something really important…”

“What?”

“I love you too” he smiled at you.

“So… Where does this leave us?” You asked.

“I wanna give things a go, if you still want to that is…”

You gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“I’d love to”

A/N~ this is my first time writing for supernatural and for Sam, I hope I did alright :) Any constructive criticism would be appreciated just, like, please don’t be mean lol

[spencapenca]

The Misfits Chapter Three!

Trigger Warning: Internalized homophobia and religious trauma, neglect, mention of death of a parent(s), alcohol addiction, swearing, use of marijuana, and a panic attack. Word Count: 3,350 Feel free to review, and leave a comment or criticism! Update: I am thinking I will update weekly or bi-weekly on Thursdays! I am trying to get in the grove of a posting schedule.

The time had come, midterms. With the group stressing through the AP Psych midterms Dave offered his house to study despite being conscious of the size. It just made sense, his parents weren’t home and they always had food. The agreed time was 4:00 that afternoon, they would study for a few, grab dinner, and study until later. The group figured if they combined their knowledge, they would be able to finish their study guide-- in which it was made clear that completing it would almost guarantee a passing score. The group also knew that with Spencer there it would be easier, and they may get done sooner. They really should have started to study sooner, seeing as how the exam was in three days. Spencer walked through his household in the dark, as his mother had forgotten to pay the bill again this month. The young boy tried to figure it out, he tried to figure out how to make his mom better-- it started with pleases and finished with her cold, long fingers backhanding him in the cheek, resulting in a purple bruise he passed off as hitting his face on a doorknob, or getting elbowed by one of the bigger kids. He noticed his mom was in a trance, staring out of the window and muttering to herself. He then saw her pacing nervously over the worn carpet with cheap liquor in her hand, a cigarette with a long cherry burning down the stick. He tried to step in and stop her, so it hadn’t become uncommon for Spencer to go to bed with a small bruise forming from where she would slap him, accusing him of spying on her only for her to forget it the next day. He tried to convince her to drive him, but she accused him of spying for them again, and he realized that it there was no way that she was gonna drive him. So he set out to walk, peering at the angry sky through the window. He used the little data that he had on his phone, of which his deadbeat father still paid despite his absence to find the way to Dave’s house. He rarely used it, not liking the technology because of the fear his mother instilled in him.  About a block into his journey he paused and looked up into the dark sky, seeing the furious clouds, and felt a few raindrops fall onto his thin face. His long-sleeved shirt that was much too thin for a rainy October day became increasingly wet.  He started to shiver, walking faster now to make his body warmer. The rain started to come down harder and he brushed the too-long hair out of his eyes that were now becoming soaked. He jumped as thunder clapped and thought to himself ‘this is going to be a long walk’ Sandy stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as a dark pungent liquid sloshed around in a dirty cup. JJ stormed out of the house, infuriated.  Her mother’s drinking had gotten unbearable, she kept finding empty liquor bottles in the garbage, tabs on the floor, and the freezer was more stocked with vodka and tequila than it was food. Quite frankly, she couldn’t do it anymore. She needed the escape. She needed freedom from the suffocating sadness in her house. So naturally, she called Emily and of course, she came for her. They sit in awkward silence until they arrive at Emily’s house and sit on her bed. The smell of the alcohol burned into her nostrils, as she tries to cleanse her senses with the calming lavender sents of Emily. “Ugh! I fucking hate living there! There’s too much shit” JJ rants, her voice quiet but venomous as the stress pulsates off of her. She looked miserable in the clothes she was wearing. Tight and form-fitting-- though it looked great, it was most definitely not something that she should be in when she was this upset. So the first thing Emily did was go to her closet and find a pair of black sweats followed by a dark yellow hoodie that just about swallowed JJ. “You look miserable. Go change and we’ll talk.” Emily said softly, trying to lighten the mood but failing. JJ nodded with a small huff and went into her bathroom, changing quickly into the clothes that smelled like Emily, her senses calmed as a small smile spread across her face.  The blonde came back out and plopped onto the bed next to Emily, tension thick in her chest. As if Emily can feel it, she hands her a medium-sized joint burning slowly as smoke comes from its end. “It will make you feel less… well just less. Just trust me.” Emily watched her expression as she sat up and took a small slow drag from the burning paper. JJ did what felt natural and inhaled only to cough. “That’s okay, try again.” And so she did. A couple of times until she felt an unfamiliar calm wash over her senses. Not necessarily high, but definitely calmer. She passes the joint to Emily before flopping back down, “I hate living there. All she does is drink. All. Day. She works from home and drinks. She cooks… well orders shit food, and drinks. She is turning into my grandmother and it is terrible. Everything changed when… when she died… Nothing is the same! Is it too much to fucking ask?!” She rants as small affirming nods and hums come from Emily, “I mean, is it TOO much to ask for your mother to be sober enough to realize you’re not even home!? Or that she’s driving in the car still?! Is that really too fucking much?” “No… no it’s not. I’m sorry... Is there a way you can talk to your dad?” “No. Fucking asshole left. Left me in this shithole.” “I’m sorry JJ... I truly am. Let’s just focus on something else.” And so they did, they smoked and laid close, relaxing while watching a movie or two until it was time to go to the study group. Aaron had been preparing for this day, books scattered along his bedroom floor soft music in the background. He puts everything aside for his brother Sean, who seems to be having school issues of his own, Aaron reminds himself of the man he has to become. His father had left, thankfully-- so he had to become the man, the father figure. To raise his brother when his mother couldn’t. He tried his best to be a good brother, a good son, a good student. These tests were important to that. Crucial. After this, he could relax a bit, let loose as he let Dave take the ropes. Sean LOVED going over to Dave’s, he got to experience the childhood that every kid could ever want over there. Not only that, but it gave Aaron the opportunity to relax and let go, letting himself be a teenager. He would get to hang out with his friend and let go of the responsibility. When he took Sean over to Dave’s with his, he would allow his brother to play with the games that the wealthy teen’s house was stocked with, Sean was able to be a kid too. It was really just healthy for the both of them. Derek and Penelope had been driving for a while, drinking sugary drinks from Starbucks, and holding hands. They decided to have a date day before the study group since they didn’t have much time alone anymore. Though this time was slowly coming to a halt, “Derek… is that Spencer?” She asked, seeing a small figure, shivering in the rainy weather. “I’m sure it…. It is, isn’t it?” He responded, slowing down to the drenched figure Spencer looks over nervously and sees Penelope and calms down, seeing Derek’s window roll down, “Hey kid… why are you in the rain? It’s freezing out there!” “I uhm… I was walkin to Dave’s… for the study group tonight.” Derek looks over at Penelope with a worried glance. Why couldn’t the kid's mom drive him, and how the hell was he getting to school every day? He takes in a breath and nods to his back seat, “Get in Spence, you can just stay with us until the study group. Okay? We were about to grab lunch, are you hungry?” Spencer contemplates for a second before nodding “ ‘M sorry… Your car is gonna get all wet” He mumbled, climbing into the backseat as a crack of lightning, followed by a roar of thunder sounded overhead. He jumped and closed the door as Derek reassured him it was perfectly fine. Penelope looks back and sucks her teeth “Der, you have a hoodie right?” She asked, smiling to herself as he nodded. “Here Sug, take off that wet shirt, put this on, it will keep you warm.” She told the young boy, his hair flush against his forehead as it dripped with small droplets. “Okay…” He responded, pulling the wet shirt off and quickly reveling in the dry comfort of the hoodie that was much, much too big for him. The group went to lunch and then to an arcade, and then--just for Spencer, they went to the big library, allowing him to check out a few books. Derek and Penelope were worried for him, worried for his condition because they noticed something else, a purplish, yellow bruise forming on his cheek that was an obvious handprint. Something was going on and they were going to figure it out. They weren’t going to leave this alone, not this time. Not after the clues that they have seen. Not after the lack of food, dirty clothes, and unkempt hair. Not to mention the ripped shoes and broken pencils.

The groups started to flow in, Aaron and Sean first, then JJ and Emily-- who were still a little buzzed, and finally Derek, Penelope, and Spencer. The first plan of action was the homework packet in which they had due for the midterm. It was a prep packet that was every bit of fifteen pages long, covering everything they had gone over or talked about in the past nine weeks. Little bits from previous exams, of which they had weekly, and questions over the 5 chapters of the textbook they have started to read, front to back. After a while Spencer looked over at Emily and scooted closer to her, a small sniffle forming. He was already starting to get a cold from the rain. He was so nervous to go home, what if his mom came out of the episode and realized he wasn’t there? What if they wouldn’t take him home? How would he get the cold that he caused to go away… how would he clean his clothes? The water bill hadn’t been paid… he had run out of water. His train of thought was broke when Emily naturally rubbed his back with her free hand and smiled softly, not that she would let anyone see it; however, despite her attempts to hide it, JJ noticed and blushed. God, that smile was like crack to her. Addicting. After quite a few hours and rumbling stomach noises, Dave had decided it was time for a break, and for pizza. Though, choosing what kind was not easy. There were many raised voices, and each time Spencer tried to speak up, he was spoken over, making him shrink down. It was too loud. A hand flew up-- innocent of course, just Derek patting someone on the back but it caused him to flench and yelp. Suddenly, all eyes were on him, he was quivering like a wounded puppy, covering his face with small tears forming. His chest felt tight, his breath hitched, but then sped up rapidly, his lungs heaving with each breath. The sight made the noise stop immediately. Emily spoke softly, kneeling beside him “Hey bub, what’s wrong?” He shook his head and sat on the floor slumping against the wall as he shook. Fear taking over his responses, and his fight or flight making him freeze instead. Soon enough he muttered two words “I’m okay.” Two words he muttered way too often, his personal mantra. Emily took into account the noise, knowing how he felt about loud sounds, and how to fix that. She nodded and pulled him into her lap, holding him close, and covering his ears with her hands to muffle the sound around them. With the silenced sound and the comforting scent sent around him he curled up in her lap, his messy curls fanned against her pale chest as he breathed with her, his eyes fluttering closed. The group looks at each other worriedly. Normally Spencer wasn’t like this. He was sensitive, jumpy sure, but he never reacted like this. He never flinched. They sat silently before being jumped out of their thoughts with a ring of the doorbell. Pizza. No one moves for a moment, looking around in before Rossi scrambles up, clumsy but quiet. He tips the delivery man more than he would like to admit and sits the boxes in the middle. “Eat, but be quiet. Don’t wake the kid.” He warns Spencer's head perks up with the smell of the pizza, looking around sleepily “ ‘za” he says, a small sleepy grin on his face. Emily smiles and rubs his back, cutting a glare at Derek who was almost gushing at them, “Yeah kid, pizza. Eat some, then I think Derek over there is gonna get you home to your mama.” She says softly, not expecting him to tense at those words. “I don’t wanna go home…” he mumbled, his voice going stoic, the fear was more than he wanted to deal with. He wanted to stay here with Emily. He wanted to feel safe. Emily glanced at Aaron worriedly, then at Rossi when the silent observer of the room spoke up “Bub, can Spencer stay with us? He’s a good friend, even if he’s younger than me.” Sean speaks up from the back of the room. Aaron nods and glances at Spencer, looking for his word of approval. “Whadyou think kiddo?” “Uhm… Can I please?” He asked quietly, nuzzling into Emily’s chest. “Well, are you sure your mom-” “She doesn’t care. You sure you don’t mind?” He interrupts Aaron quickly, not wanting to explain. Aaron is taken aback at how quickly he responded and he nods, “Sure Spencer. Of course, you’re welcome always.”

Everyone trickled out of Dave’s home group by group, Aaron leaving last. He stayed around because Spencer had fallen asleep again on the couch and he wasn’t about to wake that kid up. It was obvious he never slept with the dark purple rings around his eyes, leaving him puffy. Emily drives back to her house with JJ in her passenger seat. She could feel the tension in between them, the discomfort from JJ’s side. Though it was nothing Emily had done. The suppressed voice in the back of her head ‘don’t do it. Evil. abomination. Wrong.’  A list of the pastors' sermons. The words that he spewed at the conjugation, spewed at her. They cut deep. Every time she looked into the mirror she saw disgust. She sees failure. An imperfection. A giant stamp of hellfire and brimstone. A bubbling in her chest as she felt the impending doom of Sunday morning service. The one day her mom was sober enough to be around other people, but not enough not to be an absolute asshole. JJ was snapped out of her thoughts when Emily tapped her knee “And we’re back to the house. Common up to my room, and we can talk about whatever has been on your beautiful mind.” She says, trying to butter her up and flirts a bit-- it was hard not to at this point. Hard not to let herself fall. Though it did cause an obvious burst of tension between them. “I’m not too sure that you want to know what’s going through my mind right now.” She mumbles, making her way up to Emily’s room and plopping on her bed face down. “Oh, I’m sure I do. I love to hear all of your thoughts. Don’t worry about scaring me off.” JJ let in a shaky inhale “Abomination. Dirty. Disgusting. Evil. Hell bound sinner.” “Woah! Hey! What the hell blondie, what’s happening there.” Emily stutters out, sitting closer to the younger female. JJ looks up with tears in her eyes, “I’m dirty, I can’t help it, but I’m dirty. M-my pastor said and I t-tried to pray it away. I t-tried to be perfect. I thought that if I made myself fall for a Christian boy I would be okay. But I’m not! I’m not okay because girls are pretty and guys are okay. All Christian boys are gross, and I’m TIRED of HATING myself. Leviticus 18:22, For man, shall not lay with a man as he lays with woman for it is an abomination.” She starts to sob out, her cheeks getting heated from the wet tears stinging her cheeks as she sobbed into the fleece blankets. Emily looked over and placed a hand on her back rubbing it softly “You’re okay Jennifer, you’re okay. I promise. You’re not dirty, you’re gorgeous, you’re not disgusting, you’re so amazing and I am so sorry that some man-caused you to feel that. That you have to feel that at all. God… I don’t know him or anything but…. But he loves you blondie. He does, so just fuck the pastors. Love who the fuck ever because you were born that way. You hear me?” She nods and sniffles “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sobbing in your bed. I’m sorry. You’re pretty too. God, you’re gorgeous.” She says too quickly, blushing as she realizes her confession “You’re gorgeous too JJ. Let's get some rest, we can talk about this in the morning, don’t worry about whatever you said that made you get all quiet and we can talk later.” Emily says softly, a smile playing on her features. JJ nods with a small smile, turning so her back is to Emily. She pulls the blanket up to her chin and almost allows herself to relax into Emily’s touch, but she doesn’t and she keep herself close to the wall. Penelope and Derek decided just to stay at Penelope’s house, her aunt wasn’t home and they just wanted to be with each other. They lay in her bed and she rests her head on his chest, grounding herself with the rise and fall of his breaths. Derek carts his hand through her hair silently as he notices her tensity. After a few moments, he finally speaks up “Baby girl, what’s wrong?” He asked softly She takes in a shaky breath, “I just… I just miss my mom… and my dad.” She admits softly, her voice barely above a whisper as if she was afraid of the confession. She had been pondering over the thoughts. She wanted to tell her mom about EVERYTHING, have a girl talk. Just be her daughter again. He nods and kisses her forehead, “I’m sorry baby, I know it’s hard but when I start missing my pops a lot I talk to him. I talk to him about you, school, football… everything really. I know he can hear me, and I can feel him with me. Sometimes it’s a dream, but sometimes it’s just a calm that washes over me.” Penelope nods and sniffles, “I know… I’m sorry for crying all over you. You’re such a good boyfriend, thank you for understanding me and my issues. Thank you” She whispers into his chest Derek nods and kisses her head again “It is my greatest pleasure Penny. You’re so strong my love” and with those words, the couple cuddled and fell asleep arm in arm, limbs tangled in a comforting way as they breathe each other's oxygen, the stress of the world away while they’re in each other's arms.

[artificialqueens]

Sweet like Sugar (Branjie) - Delia

AN: Hey lovelies! This is my first time writing fic, so please be gentle but also let me know what you think…a little Branjie sugar mommy for your nerves x ps: if you have any questions, comments or concerns feel free to hit me up on @thvnderfuckz pps: tw for some, very minor, implied daddy kink

BLH

25/F/New York City

I’m a 25 year old dancer from Toronto, working to start my career. I like fashion, nights out, and travelling. Seeking a partner who is fun, adventurous, and willing to support me in pursuit of my dream.

Brooke Lynn read over her bio for what must have been the seventh time in as many minutes and let out a sigh. Each draft that she’d written had sounded more robotic than the last. It’d been a long time since she had to write anything like this, having deleted Tinder, Bumble, and HER off her phone not long after she left Toronto. Since moving to New York, she’d discovered that she much preferred going out and finding women to hook up with in person. With her long blonde hair, dancer’s physique, and innate flirtiness, it was easy enough to find someone willing to take her home for the night. Easier, at least, than talking to a girl on an app for weeks, only to find out that she was interested in a long term commitment, and having to deal with their messy emotions after Brooke told them that she wasn’t interested. If there was one thing that she did not do, it was relationships.

And now, she was trying to get paid to be in one.

She’d be lying if she said that she never thought she’d be in a position like this. From the time Brooke had told her friends and family that she’d wanted to pursue dance as a full time career, she’d been given the “wouldn’t you rather something more secure” speech more times, and by more people than she could be bothered to count. Even her older sister Katya, who’d chosen to make abstract semi-sacrilegious art her vocation in life, had tried to suggest to her that she do something with a future that was less uncertain. But Brooke knew that she was born to dance, no matter what anyone tried to tell her to the contrary. If anything, their doubt fuelled her drive, and made it all the sweeter when she’d been offered a role in ensemble of the Broadway production of Moulin Rouge! upon her graduation from Ryerson. The moment that she’d stepped off the plane at JFK and stepped into the apartment that she would be sharing with another ensemble member from the show, Scarlet, she felt as though she was living her wildest dreams come true.

In all of her excitement at the time, Brooke forgot that the most wonderful dreams often lead to the harshest wake ups.

Four months into her run, the cast began to notice a dwindling number of fans at the stage door after each performance. Five months into her run, cast and crew alike began whispering about finding new jobs soon. Six months into her run, on a particularly humid Sunday in July, the cast and crew were gathered by the production team before everyone left the theatre and were told that the show would be closing at the beginning of September, after the Labour Day weekend. Brooke immediately started panicking at the prospect of being out of a job in one of the most expensive cities in the world. There was nothing she wanted less than to have to move back home to Toronto with her tail between her legs.

It had been two years since Moulin Rouge! closed, and although Brooke had managed to avoid making the move back home, she hadn’t been able to get a job performing since. She was always too tall, or too technical, or didn’t have enough personality. She’d been able to find a job in the meantime, teaching classes at a dance studio in Tribeca, but the money she made from that was barely enough to cover her necessities. It certainly didn’t cover luxuries such as brunch with your ex-roommate, as Brooke found out after her credit card was declined at her and Scarlet’s bi-weekly date. She barely had time to try and form an apology before she witnessed Scarlet reaching into her purse and placing a crisp one hundred dollar bill on the table, telling the waitress to keep the sixty dollars in change. Her embarrassed expression transformed into one of jaw-dropped shock as the redhead pulled her from the restaurant.

On the walk back to the subway, Scarlet revealed to Brooke that she’d been various “mutually beneficial relationships” with different men since she’d first moved to the city when she was 19, and that it had been her main source of income even while she was performing.

“It’s easy money, plus it’s kind of empowering,” explained Scarlet in her low voice, which still held a hint of the drawl indicative of her Southern upbringing. “It’s like, they have the money but I have all the emotional power. Without me generously donating my time to them, all these men have are their frigid marriages, or soul sucking jobs. A lot of the time the only thing standing between these powerful, rich men and a complete nervous break is me. And if that’s not power, I don’t know what is. So if I have to laugh at a few bad jokes and kiss a couple of CEOs to be able to live the kind of life I want, all while knowing that I could end any of these men at any given moment, then so be it.”

Oddly inspired by her friend’s speech, Brooke downloaded the sugar dating app onto her phone later that day.

And now here she was, sitting in front of her laptop at 11:00 pm on a Saturday night, drinking a bottle of wine and stress reading her three sentence bio for at least the tenth time. Fuck it, she thought, this is as good as it’s gonna get.

After clicking the “submit” button, Brooke was redirected to a page showing all of the potential sugar daddies in her area. As she scrolled through pages upon pages of photos of headless torsos, she became increasingly regretful of her decision to not filter out men immediately.

CEToEs

Disgusting.

KinkyExec

Nope.

DominantDaddy

Absolutely not.

Brooke was a lesbian, and had known that since she was 14. However, Scarlet told her that there were far more sugar daddies than sugar mommies in the New York area, and that a lot of the time the men didn’t necessarily even want sex. But as she clocked the usernames of several of the daddies on the app, it was clear that the redhead had either lied to her or was somehow the most blissfully oblivious girl in the city.

The blonde promptly returned to her settings page and deselected men as an interest. When she returned to the home page, she was delighted to see the profiles of fifty-or-so women pop up. She began scrolling again, hoping that someone would catch her eye.

WorldsMostPunkRockMoms

Meh. The two blonde women in the thumbnail picture were definitely beautiful, but Brooke didn’t know how she felt about getting involved with a couple who had a child.

Detoxicant

The woman in this picture looked like she’d had a lot of plastic surgery. Still, she was hot. Brooke tapped the little heart icon next to the photo and continued scrolling.

Toward the bottom of the page there was one profile that had a little green dot next to the thumbnail. Brooke took a little comfort in the fact that she wasn’t the only one on this app at this time on a weekend night. She clicked on the profile and two pictures filled her screen. The first was a headless torso shot of a woman wearing an oversized Versace t-shirt as a dress. Although her face was out of frame, Brooke could tell that the woman’s hair was a caramel brown, at least at the tips, and went to just below her collarbone. The second image was another faceless picture, but in this one the woman was wearing a spaghetti strapped red dress, showing off her deeply tanned skin and an, in Brooke’s opinion, weirdly specific chest tattoo of a hairless cat atop a red rose. The bio beneath the pictures read:

V 23/F/New York City

no face pics because i gotta stay lowkey. promise i’m not gonna kill you or anything like that, just lookin for a cute girl i can take out and trEat right.

Brooke rolled her eyes at the innuendo and let out a small huff of a laugh. The girl obviously had some sort of sense of humour, which she supposed was important. And it was pretty impressive that someone so young was in a position where they could support someone else financially.

The green dot was still displayed next to V’s username. She was still online. Brooke took a deep breath and clicked the chat icon at the bottom of the screen, typing out a quick, hopefully flirty-but-without-coming-on-too-strong, message.

BLH: I hate to break it to you, but saying ‘I’m not gonna kill you’ sounds exactly like what someone who would kill me would say ;)

Brooke quickly exited out of the app and opened up Instagram to check and see if Katya or her wife had added any new photos of their cats or dog. Before she could even begin typing her sister’s name into the search bar, her phone dinged, letting her know that V had responded.

V: hate to break it to you babe but saying youre looking for a partner sounds like youre tryna open up a lawyers office

Brooke swore under her breathe. She knew she sounded too robotic.

BLH: Oh god, I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything

V: lol relax mami, youre cute with all your worrying

She bit down on her lower lip, half in frustration and half trying to suppress a smile. V was already teasing her about her worrying, and they hadn’t even met yet.

BLH: Aren’t you more of the mommy in this situation though ;)

V: i mean i usually prefer daddy ;)

Brooke felt a quick rush of heat to her center at the word “daddy”. She closed her eyes trying to stave away memories of various nights in the alleyways behind various bars with various women.

BLH: I think I can make that work ;)

V: listen, not to be too upfront but youre gorgeous and id love to take you out sometime if youd want?

V: we could meet and figure out an allowance or something if thats what you want! ive done this once before and it was a really good experience for both of us…i gave her around $8000 a month for rent and stuff but we could figure out something specially for you if you need somethin different

Brooke could’ve sworn she felt her heart stop when she read the word “month”. She’d never been with one single person for more than three nights, much less on a month to month basis. But V seemed nice at least. And if not nice, she was at least experienced at this kind of arrangement, and was apparently quite generous to boot. Eight thousand dollars a month would cover her rent and utilities almost four times over. Eight thousand dollars a month would mean that she wouldn’t have to worry about getting her card declined at brunch. Eight thousand dollars a month meant that she wouldn’t have to pick up every possible shift at the studio, and could spend more time going to auditions.

Eight thousand dollars a month meant that she was definitely not turning V down right off the bat.

BLH: I’d love that. Name the time and place, I’m free when you are.

BLH: Daddy ;)

Brooke Lynn Hayhoe doesn’t do relationships — but for eight thousand dollars a month, she was willing to fake it.

[choniswangs-blog]

Still don’t have a title for this

Let me know how you guys like it? I think this chapter is shorter than the last one but I really don’t know what I’m doing??

NSFW content as always

CHAPTER TWO

It was midnight a few nights later and Toni could not sleep for the life of her. All she had on her mind was Cheryl with her plump red lips, her long pale legs, the taste of her most intimate area. She absentmindedly slipped a hand into her panties, closing her eyes as she imagined what Cheryl could possibly want her to do to her next. Maybe she wanted her to fuck her from behind with a strap on. Maybe she wanted to sit on her face. There were so many possibilities and they were all Toni could wrap her mind around. She even had been making mistakes at work, thinking about fingering Cheryl on the hood of her car. The Serpent girl groaned to herself, simply touching herself wasn’t enough to fulfill her craving. She instantly sent a text to her favorite girl. Again with that, Toni? Really?

Toni 🌸 to Bombshell 🍒: Come over.

There was no reply. But half an hour later there was a knock on her door and she expected that tall glass of water to be on the other side of the door. Instead, she was met with a familiar set of dark brown eyes and long raven colored hair. “Ronnie?”

Toni was shocked to say the least. She definitely didn’t expect to see her first love at her doorstep, and for sure didn’t expect her to bring Betty along as well as a bouqet of red tulips. Betty had slipped past Toni as soon as the door was opened, and Veronica followed, looking through the cupboards to find a vase. The pinkhaired girl simply watched, the door still hanging open as she stood in place. She shook off her thoughts and shut the door, then walked towards the small kitchen to join Veronica. “What are you doing here, Ronnie? I don’t understand.” Veronica looked up at her for a moment and then averted her eyes back to her search, clearing her throat. “I came to visit you, Toni. I missed you, a lot, and I figured we should catch up and maybe talk.” Betty soon walked into the kitchen and helped herself to one of the wine coolers Toni had in the fridge, twisting the cap off and looking between the two. “Ronnie wants to have a threesome.” Veronica looked towards Betty, giving the blonde a deathglare while Toni simply stood there with a confused look on her face. “And why would she want that? Isn’t being back in New York too much for her?” Toni was surely pissed, and had every single right to be. Whom she had called the love of her life had just abandoned her when she needed her most. She had just left her whole life behind to be with the latina, and it was all “too much” for her. Veronica let out a sigh and shook her head, moving closer to her now ex-girlfriend and running her hand comfortingly over her upper arm. “Toni, I regret leaving you. I regret leaving this. We were so good together and I am so so sorry that I left. That I abandoned you. I miss you, and us. And I missed Betty, and Cheryl.” Toni was taken aback by that, shaking her head vigorously. “You know Cheryl?” Betty’s mouth opened in shock, shaking her head. “And you do? Of course Ronnie knows her, Cheryl dated Archie freshman year. He broke up with her for you, Toni.” Toni could only look between the two girls in shock, shaking her head and then beginning to pace around the kitchen. “Shit. Cheryl is Archie’s ex? Is that why she’s talking to me? Is she trying to mess with me to get back at me for taking Archie from her?” At this Betty and Veronica shared a knowing look and laughed. “Cheryl is a lesbian, Toni. We can’t all be blessed enough to be into both or all genders.” Toni was confused at this point, shaking her head and then grabbing her own wine cooler from the fridge. As soon as it was opened there was another knock on the door and Betty moved to open it while Toni sipped on her drink and Veronica looked around to admire the apartment they formerly rented together. Cheryl’s voice could be heard and Toni’s head popped up at that, placing the bottle down and walking towards the door. “Dear cousin! What brings you to the Topaz residence?” Left Cheryl’s bare lips, a slightly confused look on her face as she then turned her head to look at her.... Fuck buddy? Yes, that could work. “Oh, Ronnie and I were just visiting an old friend. But why are you here, Cheryl?” Toni interrupted them with a nervous cough and tugged Cheryl inside, leading her towards the kitchen with the other two girls. “Let’s have some fun! I have wine coolers and karaoke.” Veronica squealed with glee and clapped her hands, nodding with excitement. “Yes! Veronica Lodge approves. I’ll go first.” Veronica along with Betty headed towards the living room, whereas Cheryl kept Toni in the kitchen and spoke with a low whisper. “What the hell, Topaz? Why did you ambush me like that?” Toni sighed and shook her head, looking up to the redheaded girl. “I didn’t expect them to come over. When they knocked I thought it was you. I’m sorry, Cher.” Cheryl felt herself blush at the nickname but quickly brushed it off, nodding her head at the answer she had received. “I should go then. I don’t want to interrupt your reunion with your ex flame, and current girl.” Toni snorted at the assumption that Betty was her girlfriend and she immediately shook her head. “Cooper isn’t my girl. I slept with her once while drunk. I don’t even really like her. There’s only one girl on my mind right now, and well... That’s you.” Toni admitted this sheepishly, looking down to hide her reddened cheeks. Cheryl just watched her, a bit shocked at her confession before she shook her head. “Toni, I can’t be with you. At least not romantically. We’ve been over this. Think of how scandalous that would be?” The former gang member just sighed and nodded, before leading Cheryl towards the door. “Sorry that I’m so scandalous for you, then.. I’ll leave you alone from now on.” That was all that was said between the two before Cheryl saw herself out, sighing to herself as she felt her heart drop while reminiscing Toni’s words. “You’re too good for me, Topaz..” She said silently to herself before walking to the elevator and leaving the building to comfort herself at her luxury condo. Toni slipped into the living room to find both Betty and Veronica in their bra and panties, her jaw dropped. “I was serious about the threesome, Topaz. Let’s take this to your room?” With those words, Toni lead the two to her bedroom and had the longest night she had experienced in a long time.

It had been two weeks since Toni had seen or heard from Cheryl, and she was too proud to admit that she missed the redhead. She barely knew her but she was already under her spell, much too quickly for her liking. Veronica had moved into her apartment, and they had been sneaking kisses and dates in between both of their work hours. Toni was comfortable, but also not happy. Not that Ronnie didn't make the former Serpent happy. She just knew she couldn't get a certain rich girl out of her head, and today was the day she was going to do something about it. As soon as she clocked in for her shift at the garage, in came that infamous Impala of Cheryl's, and Toni could not be anymore excited in her life. The pink-haired girl watched as red hair exited the car, only to walk up to the counter and a pair of brown eyes were looking Toni over. How she missed this. "Hey, Cherry. Ready for your bi-weekly checkup?" Cheryl simply nodded and handed her money over, before deciding to wait in the small lounge that was arranged for waiting customers. Toni sighed and walked outside to check the car, knowing damn well it was in perfect condition from when she had checked last. Toni walked back in and towards the lounge, clearing her throat to gather Cheryl's attention. The former cheerleader looked up from the random magazine she had picked up and she stood, walking up to the counter to sign the paperwork. "Cheryl, I wanna talk. About what happened, please?" Cheryl sighed softly and looked down at her shoes, her foot mindlessly tracing shapes over it. "I will take what happened as a declination of my request, Topaz." Toni simply sighed as well before shaking her head. "I wanted to actually accept, Cheryl." Ginger eyebrows furrowed at the confession, dark brown eyes snapping up to look at Toni. "What? But you... I don't get it." She looked confused to say the least, and Toni felt terribly. "I need the extra money, you need the company. You liked what happened last time, didn't you?" And with that all Cheryl could do was nod. "Meet me at the bar tonight, I'll need you to come into my office to sign the paperwork." After her words she turned on her heel and left the shop, leaving Toni feeling accomplished.

It was eight at night, and Toni was getting ready to meet with her favorite girl. Yes, that's how she thought of Cheryl. Of course she loved Veronica, but all that girl ever did was run. Toni wanted some sort of long term. Cheryl was supplying that for her. Veronica suggested she join her in the shower but Toni simply shook her head and gave her a sympathetic smile. "Not tonight, Ronnie." After fifteen minutes of washing her hair and body, she stepped out and dried herself off. She began to work on her hair and makeup, making sure everything looked perfect before she looked through her closet. She needed to find something to show the redhead what she had been missing for two weeks. And a little black dress it was, the only dress Toni owned. She slipped it on and zipped it up, looking at herself through the mirror. A smirk tugged up on her lips as she admired herself, she would totally tap that if she were a different person. Veronica watched as Toni walked out, then decided to follow behind her. She wasn't ready to give up her new/old girlfriend just yet, and dressed like that she was obviously meeting someone important. As soon as Toni pulled up to Cherry Bomb, she locked her car, yes her car, and walked inside. She soon saw Cheryl at the bar and approached her, Veronica a few steps behind her. The raven-haired girl narrowed her eyes at the couple, shaking her head. Veronica was not having it and she stormed up to the two of them, her voice filled with anger and jealousy. "What the hell? Toni, what are you doing with the likes of her? She's pure evil, if not Satan herself!" Toni looked up from her drink and frowned at her ex, shaking her head. "Ronnie, what are you doing here, you followed me?" Cheryl stood and sighed, before laughing bitterly at the exchange. "Wow, Lodge, had to follow poor Antionette just to get her affection? Sounds like you, honestly. Considering you had your head so up Archie Andrews' ass in high school, despite your secret Serpent girlfriend here." Toni was shocked to say the least, at the fact that Ronnie had liked Archie, that Cheryl knew who she was before even meeting her, that she even knew part of their personal life. "H-how do you know all of that, Cheryl?" The redhead sighed as she shook her head. "That's not important, Toni. Let's just go to my office, alright?" Toni watched her disappear to the back and she glared a bit at her ex before following, closing the office door behind her. "How have I never met you?" Cheryl kept her head down as she looked over her desk for the contract, shaking her head same as before. "We just never crossed paths, okay? I was friends with Kevin Keller and Josie McCoy, no one you ever associated with. Except Veronica. She cheated on you so much with me, Toni. I had no idea you two were a thing until she broke it off with me to run away with you. I didn't even know your name or who you were. She never told me. Just said that she had a girlfriend, just said she was moving away." Toni was shocked at the confession and tried to hold back the tears threatening to escape her eyes. She shook her head as she moved to sit in the large desk chair, keeping her head hung low. "She did that to me? I thought... I thought she loved me. I guess she never really did because she hooked up with Archie and Betty too. I'm so... wow." That was all that was said for the next twenty minutes before Cheryl cleared her throat and slid the piece of paper over to Toni's side of the desk. "Just sign this. I'll help you get revenge on the shady cunt. I'll also make you some money. She'll be begging for you back in no time." Toni simply scoffed and shook her head as she picked up one of Cheryl's many red pens and ultimately signed over her soul, or that was how she interpreted it as. "I don't want her back, not anymore." That was that, and Toni left, slipping past her ex with a heartbroken look and drove back to her shared apartment.

Veronica was driving her crazy. All she had done for the past week was apologize and try to take her on dates or kiss her, just to 'make up' for what happened. Toni wasn't really in the dating mood anymore after what happened between her, Veronica, and Cheryl that evening. She simply ignored Veronica, went to work, met up with Cheryl whenever it was requested, and slept when she could. Her life was slowly getting back into a routine, a completely different one, but a routine. Toni was at the garage, fixing regular's car when she heard her phone vibrate, her lip now wedged between her teeth at the thought of it being Cheryl. She wiped her hands with a towel before fetching the device from her pocket and reading over the text. Bombshell🍒to Toni 🌸: Come over immediately. I have a surprise for you. Toni was nervous at this, at the fact that she had to leave work early just to please this red headed pillow princess who was filling her pockets with money each time they met. The pink-haired girl simply finished up the car she was working on, had the guy sign the paperwork, and headed to Sweet Pea's office with a faux panicked look. "Hey Sweets? I... Veronica just called from the hospital. She got in a car accident and I need to be with her. Is it okay if I leave early?" Sweet Pea looked up from his paperwork and nodded, totally believing Toni's lie. It's not like he was ever the sharpest knife in the group, especially not while in the Serpents. Toni gave him a relieved smile and left after clocking out, speeding on her motorcycle all the way to Cheryl's condo. Toni didn't know what to expect. Was Cheryl one of those people that gets off on causing others pain? Toni didn't know how she felt about BDSM but she could be willing to try, for Cheryl. Only for Cheryl. She parked in the small garage after buzzing the gate, parking in Cheryl's spot, she knew better than to park her car here. She knew it was safe elsewhere. The former gang member walked into the building and into the elevator, hitting the 5th floor button. Cheryl had to be at the top floor of course, she was so into luxury. Toni didn't mind though, she liked Cheryl's high standards, only made her that much sexier. She knocked on Cheryl's door, humming softly and tapping her feet as she awaited the 'tall glass of water'. She loved thinking of Cheryl that way, she definitely craved the girl. The door was flung open and Toni was dragged inside by her left arm, causing her to giggle. "Couldn't wait any longer for me, huh Bombshell?" Cheryl rolled her eyes at the comment, shaking her head. "Shut up, Pinky. I have a job for you, a real job. A job with amazing hourly wages, full benefits, and you get to live in this building with me. I mean, not with me with me, but in the same building." Toni furrowed her eyebrows, not really understanding Cheryl's proposition. "Toni, I want you to work for my uncle Claudius. He owns a garage,  similar to the one you're at now.  Except you'd run the shop. It'd be your choice who you employ, how the shop is dealt with." Toni was definitely intrigued by the offer, but couldn't be sure if there was a catch or not. "What's the catch, Cher? There's always a catch." Cheryl simply laughed at this, shaking her head. "No catch, Topaz. I just want better for you. I know it's hard to believe because I'm Cheryl Blossom, rich bitch who doesn't care about anyone. But I do care about you, Toni. A great deal, if I'm honest." Cheryl's cheeks became red at her confession and Toni couldn't help but to blush as well. "You care about me, Cherry?" Cheryl could only run a hand through her hair as she mumbled a yes. Toni thought for a while before she nodded, looking up to the woman she felt so strongly for. Cheryl grinned and lead the pink-haired girl to her bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Is that a yes, Topaz?" Toni giggled and nodded her head just once more before she sat on Cheryl's lap and pressed a kiss to her lips. The redhead was a bit shocked by the kiss, but she could get used to the feeling erupting in her stomach from just the small gesture. Toni continued with her light pecks, her hands cupping Cheryl's face gently in her hands before she pulled back and opened her eyes. "You have no idea how much this means to me, Cher." The ginger girl simply allowed her cheeks to redden as she nodded, her hands resting on Toni's hips. "Well, I needed the situation dealt with, you were the first mechanic I could think of." Toni tucked her own hair behind her ear and stood, her hands straightening out her shirt. "This is so crazy. So when do I start?" There was a short pause between them before Cheryl spoke in a gentle tone. "Tomorrow. Notify Sweet Pea as soon as possible."

[eatvangelist]

Kuredu Resort - Sangu Very Much

Like all good things, I’m sad to say the magical Maldivian vacation had to end, and I have been home for a few days now.  Earlier today I finally braved my lifelong arch-nemesis, the scale.  I knew going into our confrontation today to expect the worst, but I was surprised to find that instead of gaining the ten pounds I felt I added, the reality was more like three.  Not sure how that is possible given the handful of chefs catering to my every culinary whim, four meals per day, at Kuredu Resort.  

I had never stayed at a resort prior to this trip, so I didn’t really have any expectations about how good the food would be.  My companion and I were informed that we were on the all-inclusive plan, plus we were staying at the more exclusive Sangu Water Villa at the far end of the island, so we were free to dine at any of the buffet restaurants on the island and get half-price discounts at the three a la carte restaurants on the resort.  We never made it to any of the a la carte restaurants, as we were more than satisfied with the buffet options.  While we did try the different buffet restaurants on the island, ultimately we were happiest at Sangu Restaurant.   

The buffet restaurants are actually all similar, but there are slight differences.  The most obvious is the ambiance - Sangu is adults-only so the vibe is definitely more sophisticated compared to lively Koamas restaurant, which is located near the resort’s main area and also next to the children’s playground.  Throughout the buffet restaurants, there is a nightly dinner theme that completely cycles through bi-weekly, as most guests don’t stay for more than two weeks.  At Sangu, there was an outdoor grill - I didn’t notice one at the other restaurants though I’m sure they had grilled foods there, too, if not a grilling station.  During my stay, I eagerly looked forward to see what was cooked there to fit the theme.  The best theme night was “Out of the Blue,” which was seafood, and the chef at the outdoor grill did an amazing job.  I ate a ridiculous amount of lobster that night, not to mention some amberjack and the best grilled calamari I’ve ever had. By then, I had already gotten to know to the chefs at Sangu (and they me) so it was almost comical how they kept adding lobster onto my plate because they knew I’d finish it all.  This leads to the biggest differentiator for me on the buffet restaurants - service.

As I mentioned, the staff at Sangu really gets to know their guests, which explains the exceptional service we experienced.  Guests are assigned a dedicated server for their whole stay.  Our dedicated server happened to take vacation leave a few days before our departure, but he was serving us up to an hour prior to his vacation. Even after he left, someone else we were already used to interacting with took over for him.  In general, be it the chefs or the wait staff, we felt we got to know everyone at Sangu.  They also put up with some of our unique requests (high maintenance confession time)...  For instance, during the Indian theme night, they put out proper masala chai.  The chef adds sugar to your preferred sweetness level into a silver cup, adds a couple ladles of chai, swishes it all into another silver cup, and then back and forth a few times before serving in a mug for you.  Until this trip, I haven’t really been much of a breakfast person - at home a large coffee or chai latte is enough to get me through to lunch.  So the morning after Indian night, we asked if they happened to have any masala chai left or if they can make us a cup,but we were informed they don’t keep leftovers and only make masala chai every two weeks for Indian night.  One of our chefs heard how much we liked the chai and made us each a cup, and not only for that morning but for every morning for the remainder of our stay.  Another example was when my friend picked up a coconut that randomly fell near us and took it to one of the chefs and requested he open it for us.  The chef obliged and then gave us an educational lesson on why there was so little water in the coconut (it was an old coconut) and how if we want one that holds more water we should be picking the green ones in the trees (but seriously, don’t climb Kuredu’s trees if you go visit).

So as I just stated above, I’ve never really been much of a breakfast person, but it’s hard to not go to Sangu for breakfast each morning when you get to dine on the beach.  In addition, the grill turns into a American pancake/Belgium waffle/French toast bar - and the chef can also make variations such as crepes and Swedish pancake if so desired.  What I liked though was seeing if there was a special egg dish.  I was perfectly happy with the ubiquitous made-to-order omelets at pretty much every single buffet restaurant in the world, but some mornings there would be a featured egg dish, such as the Sri Lankan Egg Hopper (pictured above).  Our chef friends explained to me that Madivian cuisine is heavily influenced by, if not a direct crossover from, India and Sri Lanka.  Between the culinary lessons and the gorgeous views, it’s hard not to get excited about breakfast.  I will say that O Restaurant and Bar have a great view, too, as they sit above the water so you see nothing but the ocean.  I still give the edge to Sangu, however, as I much prefer the full beach view - sand, waves, and all.  

Sangu Restaurant is also where the wine cellar is located.  So a couple things to note - the Maldives is an Islamic country, so alcohol is illegal.  On resorts (Kuredu as well as others), however, alcohol is permitted on the premises.  To be a sommelier, you must be able to drink or taste the wines you are purchasing and recommending.  As such, the sommelier at Kuredu has been brought in from India and been working there for two years.  He is responsible for picking the over one thousand different bottles for the wine cellar, which accommodates all the restaurants, including the a la carte ones.  Friday evenings, the sommelier hosts a small group for wine tastings on the Sangu beach.  This is not covered in the all-inclusive plan, but it’s a nominal fee of $25 per person for five or six wines.  The set up is quite beautiful and the sommelier picks wines based on the group’s preferences.  I think for my group, most of us preferred red, so he selected two whites and three reds for us to try.  At the end of our tasting, someone piped in a desire for prosecco, which became our sixth.  I didn’t care for the whites but one of the cheapest wines we tried, the Pata Negra tempranillo, was one the one I liked most, followed by the Mercurey Premier Cru, which most others seemed to prefer instead.  That is what I really enjoy most about wine tasting - meeting others and discussing what we taste and our preferences, as every palette is different.

I have probably already lost all the casual readers by now, but in case anyone is still with me, let me just say I can still ramble on about the food at Kuredu but will wrap up by adding that their desserts were on point.  First of all, there are healthy options like a proper fruit cart (next to the grilling station), where a chef would prepare any fruit you select for you.  I must say I had the most amazing papayas, dragonfruits, and mangoes there.  Most nights at the fruit cart, there was also homemade ice cream.  For something more elaborate and indulgent, there is a full on dessert table indoors, usually tied to the nightly theme, and all done quite well.  For instance, we had a Sunday Roast, and the chefs baked proper Victorian sponge cakes and Bakewell tarts, among many other options, that would make Paul Hollywood, Mary Berry, and Prue Leith all happy.

As a side note, I did mention four meals per day at the start of this post, and up to now I have really focused only on breakfast and dinner (and the wine tasting), so you might be wondering about the other two meals.  Lunch was a lighter version of dinner - just without the fun theme.  It was heavier than breakfast and we were usually so full still that we often ended up skipping lunch.  Occasionally we would get peckish before dinnertime, so to tie ourselves over we would go to one of the bars.   Every afternoon every bar on the island provided sandwiches, cookies or pastries, and tea.  There really is no opportunity to go hungry or thirsty at Kuredu.  While the location is a paradise, being pampered and indulged by the staff at Kuredu solidifies this.  I honestly don’t know how I’ve been able to function these past few days without that team taking care of me like they did all last week.  Here’s hoping I can go back again there soon.

Kuredu Resort & Spa, Maldives Lhaviyani Atoll, Republic of Maldives Phone: +960 662-0337

[romanoartsless]

Yeah so um I don’t know what to say so here’s an update

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Chapter 42

Thomas was minding his own business when an arm suddenly wrapped itself around his neck from behind. It took him aback at first until he looked to his side and saw a familiar blond. “Do you always have to make such… dramatic entrances?”

“Yes!” Crispin exclaimed. “When you purchase your friendship with Crispin Petrov, be sure to read the fine print. Spontaneous dramatic entrances are sure to be there.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but smiled at the remark. “Any news about the competition?”

“Oh yeah, I think I heard someone say the king is raising the stakes or something.”

“Raising the stakes? What does that mean?���

“I think he’s making us report to him everyday or something. That’s what I heard my dad say when I was eavesdropping on him.”

This was not good. Only having to meet up with the king every week gave him time to both get what he needed done with Caterina, but also think up a good enough story to fool the king with. Daily meetings would throw this all off. “Do you know why?”

“Nah, I think that’s what he’s gonna talk to us about today.”

A pause in silence grew between them as Thomas pondered how he might sort this all out until- “Do you want to maybe hang out after this whole meetup thing? Go get drinks or something?”

“Huh?”

“Oh I was just thinking, for people who throw the label best friend around so freely, we barely ever spend any one on one time together anymore, you know, ‘cause we’re busy lately and stuff. I dunno… I thought it was a good idea, but if you-.”

“I’d love to go get drinks with you, Crispin.”

His face lit up at the reply. “Great!” he said, skipping a bit in front of Thomas. “And Gideon’s not crashing the party this time, understood?”

“Understood.”

* * *

Thomas didn’t want to interrupt the king to tell him he was here when he first walked in. He seemed distracted at the moment. He sat at his desk, holding a picture frame containing a collage of circular images of his own face. “I’ll find you,” Thomas swore he heard him whisper to himself, “I promise.”

“Sir?”

“Oh!” the king said, placing the frame back on his desk as he turned around. “Captain! Please, come in.”

Thomas sat down before him in on of the chairs set out. “Crispin told me you were… raising the stakes of the competition?”

“Yes! Yes. I imagine he also told you I wanted all of you in the competition to meet me every other day now.”

“Oh. He said it was everyday.”

“No, it’s every other day. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good. But yes, the plan is every other day. However I will give all of you a handful of free days, but you must have an excuse.”

“May I ask why you’re raising the stakes?”

“... Personal reasons.”

Thomas didn’t bother to pry any further information out of him. “Now Thomas,” the king began again, “I’ve heard others have been slacking off in their search. You’re not one of those people are you?”

“No sir.” His face stayed blank even when images of Caterina flashed through his mind. Her hair. Her eyes. Her tattoos. Her smile that he wished he could witness one day.

“Captain?”

“Yes?”

“You looked a little distracted there.”

“Oh! Sorry about that.”

“Are you really sure you don’t slack off?”

“One hundred percent sure, sir.”

“Then what have you found so far?”

And Thomas lied straight to the king of Novak’s face. He ate up every line of how he went east and searched and searched to no avail. So much detail he put into these intricate lies that only a select few would think them false. No mention of Caterina. No mention of a search for a murderer.

The king’s deep brown eyes looked like they were on the verge of tears, but before they could spill down his cheeks, he sharply turned around in his seat. “You can go now, captain.”

* * *

About an hour later, Crispin sat at Thomas’s side and they made their way off to a nearby bar. Crispin made his usual snarky remarks as they did their stroll. “I’m just saying,” he joked, “everything in my life would make so much more sense if March Ranez was secretly my dad.”

“Crispin, the chances of you being the secret love child of your mother and March Ranez are just about as slim as the chances of me being the secret love child of my mother and the Wrie prime minister. I mean you have-.”

“I know, I know. I have my dad’s eyes, but like I wish March Ranez was secretly my dad. He’s a cool dude.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and the two of them kept walking. When they finally reached the bar, they sat down at the counter and ordered their drinks. A few hours into chatting, when he was a bit drunk, Crispin said, “You know, the last time I was at a bar, I stabbed a dude’s hand. I mean it was a few months ago, but like yeah, I did that.”

Thomas just about choked on the sip of his drink he was taking. “I’m sorry, you did what?!”

“Just, you know, stabbed some guy’s hand. Like bing bang boom one minute he doesn’t have a knife in his hand, the next he does. That simple.”

“I’m guessing you were blackout drunk when this all happened. Am I right?”

“Nope! I was completely sober!”

Thomas almost choked for a second time. “I know I’ll regret asking this, but why would you stab someone’s hand while you’re sober?”

“He was harassing this girl and, let me tell you, I couldn’t watch that go down so… stab stab stab! I mean it was only one stab, but you get the point. But like Thomas, you don’t understand-”

Crispin began to bang his fists on the table, but Thomas stopped him, saying, “Crispin, you’re drunk. You need to drink some water and calm down.”

“-how hot she was! She was so hot! Truth is, I haven’t been doing jack shit for this competition, I’ve just been hanging out with this girl like every week for the past few months. Like wow, she’s hot. And nice! Fuck, she’s so nice to me. And like sincere, I actually care about you, Crispin, nice and not, I secretly just want to get into your pants, nice. She’s just… wow! Like I kind of want to-.” And in that moment, Crispin took his hand and began to passionately kiss the back of it.

“No! Oh gods no!” Thomas exclaimed, pulling Crispin’s hand away from his face. “We’re in public! Can someone get him a glass of water?”

The bartender set down a glass of water in front of the blond, who chugged it like a shot. “Woo!” Crispin shouted. “You know, brown eyes are soooo beautiful. I could stare into brown eyes forever. Like wow! Hey everyone! I love brown eyes!!!”

“Thank you? But Crispin, you really need to calm down.”

“I’m not talking about your eyes, silly. I’m talking about her.” He was pointing at the wall all the bottles were shelved on.

“Crispin, you’re drunk. You need to drink some water, eat something.”

Thomas pushed the small bowl of nuts on the counter towards Crispin, who promptly poured them in his mouth and on himself. Again, the bartender set down a glass of water in front of Crispin, who took it down with ease. “Another round!”

“No! No. Crispin, I think we’ve had enough for tonight.”

“Noooo! Thomas, you’re no fun! I wanna drink and talk about girls!”

Thomas was practically dragging Crispin out of the bar at this point. “I’ll talk about girls with you if you cooperate with me and just walk to my house with me.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Alrighty!”

Crispin drunkenly skipped beside Thomas as they walked to the captain’s home. Once they got there, Thomas opened the door, Crispin ran in, and crashed onto the couch in the front room. “You said we could talk about girls.”

“Yes I did. Let me go get drinks.” And by drinks he meant water. “Are you ever going to tell me who this mysterious brown eyed girl is?”

“No! It’s a secret.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I just don’t feel like telling anyone.”

Thomas sighed and asked, “Well then, how long have you had feelings for her?”

“What?! I don’t have feelings for anyone! Especially not her! We’re just friends!”

“Crispin, you were literally making out with your hand talking about this girl.”

“It was platonically!”

“I don’t think fantasizing about making out with someone is a platonic thing.”

“You just don’t understand the deepness of our bond, Thomas.”

“You must be a sentimental drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!”

“You’re wasted.”

“Fine then, Mr. Sober, tell me something about some girl in your life.”

“Well… um… there isn’t one.”

“I call bullshit. You hesitated.”

“Um…” Thomas couldn’t think of an answer to please Crispin, so, since the latter was intoxicated and would likely forget the entire conversation by morning, Thomas spat out the first name that came to mind. “Caterina.”

“Oh my gods, there really is someone! Tell me about her so I know she isn’t fake.”

Shit. “Well,” he said ad sat down on the couch next to Crispin who sat alert as can be, “her hair reminds me of midnight skies and every time I see the sunset and the sky goes dark it makes me think of her. And the way the moon glows against the sky reminds me of her skin. Her eyes are so dark and I just want them to consume me entirely when I look into them. And she’s so tall and regal and just-.” It scared him how easily this all came off his tongue.

“Thomas Arthur Dubroin. Holy fucking shit. Why isn’t everyone in Novak dropping their panties for you?! If someone said something like that about me, I’d marry them that second.”

“Thank you…?”

There was a pause before Crispin said, “I’m gonna hibernate  so your overly romantic ass better get off the couch unless you want me to use your lap as a pillow.”

Thomas chuckled and said, “No thank you,” before getting off the seat and heading up to his bedroom. But before he left entirely, he set a bucket beside Crispin for when the hangover would surely set in.

Chapter 43

It had been two weeks and Thomas hadn’t come back. Caterina had grown too used to his bi-weekly visits that not seeing him in that amount of time made her anxious. She’d sit by the door all day the days he was supposed to come, waiting. Some days she’d bring her sketchbook, others she’d just stare at the wall. “Dammit Dubroin,” she muffled under her breath, “where are you?”

She wondered if maybe he decided never to come back. He got her all the files she needed, why did she need him to come back? Why did she want him to come back? Why had her mind, for the past two weeks, been entirely clouded by thoughts of Thomas Arthur Dubroin? Is he ever coming back? Is he just going to abandon me without telling me why? Does he secretly hate me? Why do I miss him so much? Oh gods. Her stomach felt sick at any of the possible ideas that came to her mind.

Then, all of a sudden, the door come swinging open. Caterina half expected it to be the Crows, but got a pleasant surprise when she looked up into golden brown eyes. Before she even realized what she was doing, she jumped off the ground and wrapped her arms around Thomas’s neck. “Well hello to you, too, Caterina.”

She immediately pushed herself away from him, realizing what she had done. “Where the hell have you been for the past few weeks?”

“Back west. The king’s tightening our schedules a bunch and-.”

“Why didn’t you at least give me a heads up?”

“I regretted it the moment I realized what I did. Look, I’m sorry. I thought, at first, you’d be fine since you had all the files. Then I remembered… what happened to you and,” he reached out and grabbed her hand, his thumb drawing swirls on the top of her hand, “I’m sorry, Caterina.”

This time when she wrapped her arms around his neck, she was fully aware of what she was doing. When she pulled away from the embrace, it was much more gentle and only a way for her to be able to walk into her room. She turned around when she realized he wasn’t following her. “You coming?”

“Oh! Yeah.”

Thomas sat down onto his usual chair, awkwardly picking at his fingernails. “So,” Caterina said from across the room, on her bed, “do you care if I ask you something… personal?”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you have any… unnatural-.”

“Physical attributes? No Caterina, I don’t think I’m your soul partner.”

“You’re the only explanation.”

“But I’m not. If it’s not me then I’m not the only explanation.”

“Do you think there’s a possible loophole?”

“No. I don’t think you would’ve fainted when you overused on magic a few weeks ago had I been your soul partner.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

Thomas chuckled from across the room. “Why are you laughing, Thomas?”

“Nothing, you just make me laugh.”

Caterina tried to hide it when her face flushed red. “Thank you.”

“Thank you? That’s very polite. Who is this new, more polite Caterina?”

“Friend Caterina. Before, that was acquaintance Caterina.”

“Friend? You consider us friends? I’m so honored.”

“As you should be?”

He laughed again. “And who might top tier Caterina be?”

“Crow Caterina, but you’ll never get to meet her.”

“That’s okay, I just want to meet Thomas Caterina.”

Caterina froze. She couldn’t hide her now ripe red face anymore. What made it worse was somewhere deep down inside her she hoped he’d have his own personal level one day, too. Next thing she knew, her mouth was moving without her thinking about it. “I know you got me all the files I wanted, but like… can you keep coming back?”

“Do you have a crush on me or something?”

“No!”

“There’s no need to get defensive, I’m just kidding. But yeah, I’ll come back.”

“I understand if you don’t want to- wait, you’ll come back?”

“Yeah. I mean I could say I’ll keep coming so the king thinks I haven’t found you, but in reality I just like you.”

“You like me?”

“I like you.”

“That’ll change soon.”

Three times. He’d laughed three times now. She hadn’t even meant to make him laugh, but he still did. The sound was what she wished her dreams consisted of. “Gods Caterina, you’re hilarious, I hope you know that.”

“So now you’re just gonna sit there and compliment me.”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Please, go on.”

“Alright.”

Whenever he’d say something about her, she’d snark back with a reason why it wasn’t special. “If my grandmother weren’t such a petty bitch, my hair would’ve just been brown. It’s nothing special.”

“How do you know that?”

“How do you think I know that?”

His brown face went as red as it could for its complexion. “Well…”

A cackle fell out of her mouth. “Thomas Dubroin! Oh my god! Get your mind out of the gutter! I know because had brown hair. Sweet little Thomas has a dirty mind now doesn’t?”

“Shut up.”

Caterina began to mock him, sitting like he was and imitating his voice. “Shut up, Caterina. You’re calling me out for my dirty ass mind.”

A vulgar gesture came at her from Thomas. She returned the favor. “You’re what Novak needs, Caterina,” he said between chuckles.

“Ah yes, Novak needs the most wanted person in the whole country.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean someone who doesn’t just sit around and mope around all day.”

The tone in her voice went serious. “But that is me. I do sit and mope. I cry myself to sleep at night and I hold grudges that’ll stick with me until the day I die. I am that person. I am weak.”

“No you’re not and quit telling yourself you are. A weak person doesn’t fight like you do. You wake up everyday and you fight through the day, trying to win. And some days you lose, but you tried. A weak person doesn’t try like you do.”

Her black eyes watered up, but she refused to let the tears fall, so they stayed in her eyes, blurring her vision. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you just turn me in, get the throne? Why are you like this? Why are you nice to me? I’m practically blackmailing you so why are you nice to me?”

“A lot of reasons, Caterina. But the main one is I see myself in you, and when I was like you, I would’ve wanted a me.”

She didn’t hold back the tears anymore. When the flood ran down her cheeks, Thomas ran from the chair to the edge of the bed next to Caterina. As she cried into his shoulder, he petted the top of her head, letting out comforting hushes as he gently rocked her. “I don’t deserve you,” she mumbled through cries. “I really don’t.”

[self-made-blog-1]

Hey buddies!

I know I’ve been quiet on the site this week but that is because I have picked up a new hobby that I do for money. It’s actually not a hobby. I’m driving for Lyft. That is because I am now at one month and ten days without having a job, and I officially have no money and my credit card is almost maxed out (LOL).

So, in essence, I have been driving around with a Lyft sticker on the back windshield of my car, picking people up and putting them down. It’s not so bad really, if you’re into sitting in parking lots doing nothing until someone decides they need a ride to Wal-Mart. Or if you love driving around crowded city streets wasting gas. I think the wasting gas is my favorite part to be honest. I’m kidding. But you knew that.

The thing about being a Lyft driver is that I’m not very good at it. I mean, I think I just don’t know my area well enough. Also I suck at following google map directions. I went to pick someone up the other day and I had to turn around because as usual, they were calling from the area that I had just left. Google maps had me turn left down a sketch-as-heck one way street and when I reached the end, it had me turn left again. There was no traffic so I made the left turn and started to drive, when someone came into my lane and was driving directly toward me. I thought perhaps they were passing the person next to them, but I realized I was wrong when they started flashing their lights. I was actually the one driving the wrong way down a two-lane, one-way street. Amazing. I had nowhere to go so I just drove over into the median to avoid the oncoming traffic and that median was raised, hadn’t been mowed in forever and was narrow as heck. I got lucky that there was no traffic coming on the correct side of the road either, and I was able to just drive away into high noon without anyone noticing that I had no idea where I was or what I was doing.  I guess that when I signed up to be a Lyft driver I thought that there would be nothing to it. I was right. I just wish I could understand directions.

Speaking of understanding directions. If you’ve been keeping up with the posts over the last few weeks, then you’d know that not too long ago, I got plastered at a Pampered Chef party and bought a water bottle and I was hype about it at the time. Well. I didn’t have a job back then but Josh promised me that if I made it through the party that I could purchase an item up to $50 (even though I don’t have a kitchen) and I bought a water bottle because there is no reason why I would buy a kitchen tool for my future home when I could  buy yet another water bottle that I am never going to use and will ultimately throw in the trash?

It does have some like-able traits. It has numbered lines on the sides for measurement, like ounces on one side and mL on the other. Cool so people in the US and other countries can know how much water they’re  drinking. Props, pampered chef. It also has one of those straws that are super hard to clean and a french-press-esque plunger. It’s supposed to be for fruit infusions but with a little mesh it could be a cold brew french press water bottle.

Lately I’ve been borrowing a lot of money from Josh to pay my car bills and stuff and I have been feeling absolutely crushing guilt to the point where I can’t sleep at night and when I do sleep i literally have nightmares about him like talking cheese about me to my friends and it is driving me nuts.  Last night I was up at 3 a.m. listening to that new Marshmello/Bastille song and just crying over the music video over and over again.

I literally got a job and it doesn’t start until the 29th and it pays bi-weekly so even though I will be making the money very soon, it’s just not going to be soon enough.

And so, in light of that, I have been guilt-baking. I baked about four dozen cookies today and I made soup in the crock pot and I cleaned all day and I just feel so sweaty and agitated and I want to die LOL. Especially since I made some oatmeal cookies today and the batter just didn’t look right but I baked it anyway and instead of 12 cookies, a sheet of flat liquid came out so I formed it into a big ball and it made a scary and giant cookie ball but it tastes good and smells good. Here’s some pics:

  Okay so you guys can click here if you wanna cry about the music video but if you don’t want to cry, you should still click and just listen with your eyes closed because the song is actually a total bop, aside from the fact that Miranda Cosgrove is all I can think about now when I hear it.

As usual, thank you for reading tonight. Can’t wait to see you guys next week.

Love you, buds.

The Failure Chronicles: Part VI Hey buddies! I know I've been quiet on the site this week but that is because I have picked up a new hobby that I do for money.