#if I didn’t wanna do what my dad ask me to I wouldn’t have done it

[yoohyeon]

My mom used the complain I told her in secret to win her argument so now my dad is mad at me for complaining to my mom… my mom was at mad at my dad for making me do something, that actually didn’t even bother me, while I’m unwell just to make my situation worst by making me panic 😐

[luveline]

hi jade!! if ur still up for kbd, can we see an instance where mom feels insecure about her parenting like she feels like she's doing something wrong or being a bad mom (she's not) and Steve just helps her through it? thank<3

KBD —Steve can make you feel better just by being himself. mom!reader, 1.4k

Wren wriggles like a worm on the floor. You’ve spread her baby mat out over the rug, rainbow hearts and stars and smiley faces all around her. 

“Mom, what did you say? What’s tummy time?” Beth asks. “I can’t ’member what you said.” 

Wren whines. Her face is smushed into the floor again. 

“Tummy time is to help her develop her muscles,” you say. “It’s supposed to help her hold her head up by herself. Not working yet…” 

You slide your hand between Wren’s face and the floor. 

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” you say. 

“Try her on your chest,” Steve says, Dove in his arms as he walks through the kitchen doorway into the living room. “She’s much happier when I lay her on my chest before her nap. I lay real flat on the couch.” 

You scoop Wren up under her armpits. Her hair is getting much longer now, the same wavy texture as her father’s, though as she’s grown older her hair has thickened. You’re sure she’s gonna have full curls when she’s older, but for now, you hold her to your chest and brush a hand through those waves thoughtfully. It’s much darker than Steve’s, as are her eyes.

She gurgles as you carry her to the couch. When you lay down, Beth crawls to your side to ask if she can sit on your feet. 

“What are you upto now?” you ask Steve, laying Wren out on your chest. You realise that’s not gonna work and pull her down so her face and neck are flat on your stomach instead. 

“We just washed our hands,” Steve says, letting Dove down. “She made a little mess, that’s all. Need something?” 

“Come n’ sit down, baby,” you murmur, beckoning him in. 

Steve doesn’t need telling twice. He sits in the armchair by your head and feels around for the TV remote. Things go quiet, Dove with her Barbie’s to the right of the room where all the toys live, Beth squeezing your ankle, and Steve clicking through channels until he finds the family movie channel. You tease Wren’s cheek where she rests, but she won’t lift her head. You’re scared she’ll smother herself. 

“Honey, what am I doing wrong?” you ask. 

“Doing what?” 

“Tummy time? She never wants to lift her head.” You frown. “S’like she doesn’t wanna see me.” 

“Maybe you’re just comfy.” 

You sigh and lift Wren again. When she sees you, she smiles. “Ba?” she says. 

“Hiya, baba,” you say softly, “what’s wrong? You don’t wanna play with mama?” 

“Ba,” she says again, dribble curling down her chin as her hand grabs for your face. You let her down against your chest, unperturbed when she grabs your ear. 

“No tummy time, then.” 

“That’s fine, she was on her tummy for a long time earlier,” Steve says, “she’s probably just tired out.” 

“It hurts my neck to hold it up all the time,” Beth says. 

You scrub your eye. Are you hurting her? You hadn’t realised she was tired, but how could you not know that? You’re her mom. 

You’re tired, too. You murmur a sorry to Beth and take your legs from under her. You curl in, pill bug style, baby curled in with you. “Sorry,” you whisper, kissing her forehead. 

“Ba,” she says again, her spit on your cheek. 

You’ve had one of those shitty mom days. You burnt the last bagels in the toaster so Beth had to have toast, which she doesn’t even really like. You tore Avery’s Princess Polly dress trying to clean the sleeve. Dove cried because you didn’t listen to her story, Wren won’t do tummy time, and Steve wouldn’t have done any of those things. He’s amazing, and you’re just… you. He makes being a dad look so easy, he was basically born to do it, and you love your kids but you suck. Today sucks. 

Wren babbles all over you. “Ma-ba ma,” she says, then, “grrrrr.” 

“You growling at me, baby?” 

She lets out a bunch of gr’s and wr’s. You rub her back, tickle it until she giggles. Even the sound of her bumpy baby laughter doesn’t improve your mood. 

Steve goes to the kitchen in silence. He opens the freezer a couple of times, and then he’s calling for the girls to come and have some ice cream and chocolate fudge. Avery tumbles down the stairs from her room. She could take the hallway to the kitchen, but she stumbles into the living room instead. “Hi, mommy,” she says, smiling widely, “are you tired?” 

“A lot,” you confess. 

“Can a kiss make you feel better?” 

You turn your cheek and poke it. “Please. Just one,” —she darts forward to kiss you soundly— “go have your ice cream, baby, quick, before Dove eats it.” 

Steve dodges her. He has a bowl when he returns. He says your name so nicely you don’t think twice about taking it. An ice cream sundae melts inside, three scoops of thick ice cream adorned with cut fruit and a chocolate fudge heart. 

“It looked better five minutes ago. I did yours first.” 

“Where’s yours?” you ask. 

“I thought I’d share yours,” he says. “No?” 

You grin. “Nope.” 

“Alright. Can I sit with you, at least?” 

You straighten up. Wren stays in one arm, your bowl rests on your leg. You lift the other to take your spoon, while Steve sits next to you, not a millimetre of space between your two bodies. 

He doesn’t ask for the baby, which is actually nice. Usually eating with a child in tow is irksome, but you feel a little more capable without his asking. And besides, Steve’s fully trained. You could drop any baby into his lap at any hour and he’d take them without complaint. 

He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, but you know you could tell him. Can tell he’s waiting for a confession, or ready to let it go. 

You don’t want to talk about it. Admitting your failings is too embarrassing, sometimes, and he’s biased, so he’ll tell you anything to make it go away if he needs to. Instead, you sit, you eat your ice cream, and you rest your face against his shoulder, listening to the girls scratch their bowls in the kitchen. 

“You can go to bed early, if you need to,” he says gently. 

“No, I’m okay.” 

“How about a shower? A walk?” He lifts his head to press his nose against you. “Just let me know what you want.” 

“I’m okay, really.” 

“Okay,” he says, both of you aware that you’re not fully okay, and that he doesn’t believe it. “Can I have some of those strawberries?” 

You scoop up some strawberries and lift the spoon, but notice movement from the corner of your eye that makes you laugh in surprise. Wren is opening her mouth, waiting for a bite. She’s just on the cusp of being old enough for soft foods, but she’s never expressed any interest, until now. 

“Oh, do you want to try?” you ask, laughing. “I’m sorry, baby, this is much too sugary for your first bite.” You lean down to kiss her head. “Sorry,” you murmur into her hair, “we’ll have to find you something tomorrow.” 

Steve smiles so hard you can hear it. “Wow, soft foods already!” he says to her, rubbing the tip of his finger up and down her chest. “Our big girl, huh? Are you mama’s big girl? Daddy’s big girl?” 

“Ma,” she agrees, before her lips part again for a taste. 

Steve looks into your face proudly, eyes darting between you both. He looks at you like you’ve just hung the moon, when you didn’t do much of anything. 

“What should we make her?” he asks. 

“I don’t know, what do you think she’ll like?” 

“What do you think?” 

You abandon your spoon to soothe one of her curls away from her forehead. “I don’t know… she looks like an applesauce girl, doesn’t she? Or maybe some sweet potato.” 

Steve wraps his arm around your shoulders. “We’ll have sweet potato mash for dinner, then, and she can have the first bite. Good idea, angel.” 

You turn into his hold, letting him nose at your ear. 

[redflagshipwriter]

Mama Bat 9: Dinner Out

masterpost

After her promise, the bats were a whirlwind of activity. He didn’t know where Uncle D or Alfred went, but Cass and Bruce gently bustled him across the house to plan his ecto dinner like it was an attack on an enemy base.

“I think it was around here,” Danny said uncertainly over the map in Bruce’s study. “I don’t know the names of any of these places. But there was this abandoned-looking theme park that had a lot of what I need.”

He didn’t have to be the world’s smartest ghost to recognize that there was a lot of tension in the air after he said that. That tracked. There were not many pleasant ways for a place in the human realm to accumulate a glut of deathly energy.

“That makes sense,” Bruce said. “Cass, honey, do you think we should ask Dick and Jason?” He folded the map back up along the same lines as before without even looking. Danny wondered at why he had that muscle memory. Did he fold everything in the same pattern?

“Big visible muscle,” Cass agreed. Her phone appeared out of nearly nowhere. “Danny.” 

He stood up even straighter. 

“Is Amity dangerous?” She pinned him in a look, her soft brown eyes arresting. “Dangerous to Jasmine Fenton?”

“Jazz,” he corrected automatically. Cass nodded. He rolled his ankles around, stimming below their line of sight. “Uh.” Danny faltered. “Um.” He bit his lower lip and tried to feel less like there was a painful hand around his heart. 

He hadn’t thought so. But he would never have thought that he and Vlad were in serious danger, either. Now that the GIW and Mom and Dad knew… They would know who to ask for more information.

His parents would never push his friends or Jazz too hard. But the idea of the GIW trying to intimidate his friends and family was almost too upsetting to consider.

“Batdad extracts them?” Cass cocked her head at him to make it even more of a question. It was up to him. Was it a good idea?

Danny licked his lips. His mouth was so dry. He struggled for words. “Maybe.” One shaky inhalation. “If, um.” It sounded like someone else’s voice. It couldn’t be him saying that right now. “If it wouldn’t be too obtrusive… I don’t want to extract them and then, like, they can’t go back if they wanna.”

“We can handle that.” Bruce made eye contact to promise. He looked, Danny thought, like a more responsible, boring version of Jack Fenton. His eyes burned. 

“That would be, uh. Cool.” Danny managed to get that out and avert his eyes, but he felt like everyone could see that he was about to cry.

Whatever. He leaned to the left before he consciously knew that Cass was lifting an arm to put over his shoulder. It slotted in place like they’d done it a billion times. Danny tilted his head towards the nails she gently scratched through his hair.

“Batdad, Damibat, Timbird, Stephanie,” Cass listed easily. “Amity.” She jostled Danny a little. “And we get dinner. You only need me. I’m the best. But we bring boys too, Dickbird and Jason.” She blew a raspberry.  

Bruce looked exhausted and fond. “She is the best,” he agreed. Danny watched their interplay like it was a pingpong match. “I think you ought to go tonight to get something to eat. Would you recommend that we contact Jazz and your friends in the daytime, or should we leave as soon as possible?”

…They all had school in the day. Even Jazz was still in high school. Danny eyed Bruce doubtfully. He did know about school, right? “Night is probably better.” 

“I’ll make a few calls.” Bruce sat back and seemed to flip a switch into planning mode.

“Text!” Cass said, disagreeing strongly. She rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t too mean. “Grandfather Bat.”

“Oh!” Danny startled. “Um, I should contact Sam and Tucker. So that they know to expect you.” 

Bruce balked. “We don't normally contact civilians about ongoing investigations…” He looked constipated about it.

Danny crossed his arms. He wanted to think it was stubbornness more than self comfort. “You're not going to like, creep up on my friends. If they want to go, they need some time to get ready.” 

“Preparing could give away the plan to observers.” 

“Is Amity Park Batman's domicile?” Cass asked archly. “Batdad.” She put both her hands on his desk and leaned forward to give her father an unimpressed look. “Mayor of Amity Park?”

Bruce snorted and then covered his mouth guiltily. “Point taken.” He cleared his throat, trying to retain some dignity. “Danny, do you need help to contact your friends?” 

He shrugged. “Just a computer.” Danny fiddled with the strings on his hoodie. Tucker's hoodie. “I know you gave me a phone, but we thought -”

“That communications might be intercepted,” Bruce said, nodding as if that kind of paranoia was commonplace. “It's the first thing I would do if I expected a person of interest to contact a friend. What's your workaround?”

Danny bit his lip. It sounded stupid when he said it aloud. 

Ten minutes later, Damian joined Cass in her perch on the back of the sofa and watched with morbid curiosity as Danny joined Doomed chatroom after chatroom, scanning for Sam's username. “She’ll leave it running whenever she's home in case I ping her,” Danny defended weakly. He left another chatroom. 

Damian hummed, two pitches that came off incredibly doubtful. He had a gift for that.

“No, really, this- yes!” Danny pumped a fist and sent a HEY ITS YA BOI message. 

It took seconds for Sam to get to it and add his temporary account as a friend. She sent a DM before he could and then ignored his response to start a voice chat. 

Once he'd confirmed to her satisfaction that he was himself and that he hadn't gotten any deader in Gotham, he passed on the information that the friggin Batman was going to stop by Amity and wanted to check in. “But don’t worry, he’s kinda cool,” Danny added. “I gotta go. I am starving.”

Sam said all the rude words that she knew in quick succession. Damian looked sort of impressed. “Fine,” she said, obviously annoyed about it. “I’ll meet with Batman, but only because I hate the GIW more.”

“You hate Batman?” Damian asked. It was hard to tell from his tone if he had any feelings about that.

“That’s Damian,” Danny introduced. “He’s cool.”

“Hey,” Sam said shortly. “Yeah, he’s basically a cop. You have a problem with that?” Her voice went a little too aggressive.

“Just so you know, Damian is a child,” Danny said warily. 

Sam scoffed. “You said he’s cool. I respect him enough to fight him if he’s wrong.”

“Batman may be improved by your feedback,” Damian said idly, as if he wasn’t making trouble for his father on purpose. “You should be certain to give it to him as soon as you see him. Do you have time to prepare a presentation?”

Danny sniggered into his hand.

“I can reuse the posterboard from Current Events class, yeah.” Sam mused. “Good idea. Alright, thanks for the heads up. It’s really good to hear from you. We were starting to get worried here. You missed a check in, you know.” She was trying to sound tough, but there was a hint of strain.

Danny flushed. “Yeah, I had logistical difficulties,” he said, which sounded less pathetic than “I got robbed while I was sleeping outside and had no money to  use to access a computer.”

He ignored the thoughtful look he knew he was getting from Cass and signed off. He avoided making eye contact with anyone as he stretched, hands over his head. Then Danny put his hands on his hips and kind of stretched by rotating his back around. “Well, that’s done. Have fun with Sam, Uncle D.”

Damian made a hum in the back of his throat, eyes lost in thought. “I think I will.” Then he stalked away without a proper goodbye. Just a big housecat, that kid.

“Do you think Jason and Dick will be here soon?” Don’t ask, don’t ask, Danny silently hoped.

Cass looked at him for a long moment, silently weighing options and odds behind her dark eyes. Then she nodded. She turned on her heel and left, obviously expecting him to follow.  

Danny jogged to keep up. How did she move so fast without running? She had short legs, too. He was still busy pondering when they rounded a hallway corner and heard male voices from the entryway.

“Wait.” Cass shoved him the last step with a gentle palm press to the shoulder and then flitted back down the hallway.

“Hey, buddy,” Dick said.

Danny managed a nod in return. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and tried not to look like he was hiding.

Jason all but oozed reassurance at him, without ever looking at him. As far as the eye could tell, the blonde was barely aware that Danny was present. But under the surface of his skin, his masses of ectoplasm were roiling with  a sort of proprietary indulgence. 

It was a kindness, probably, that the two men continued their conversation as if they were still alone. Danny didn’t really pay attention, thoughts consumed with  a mixture of nerves about his worlds colliding and sobbing relief that he might get really, genuinely full for the first time since he had to run away from Amity Park. He edged a little closer to Jason without thinking about it consciously. 

Cass arrived silently. Danny looked up as she entered the room only because he could sense her steady presence. “Time to go,” he said.

Jason startled with a very small jump. His expression instantly changed to exhausted resignation.

“Haha,” Cass said, pointing at him.

“Poor scared little guy,” Dick cooed. “You can’t sneak up on him like that.”

“Too scary,” Cass said, nowhere near as convincing as Dick at empathy.

Jason scowled. “Shut up,” he complained. He zipped up his jacket and yanked the door open. The sound of early crickets immediately cut into the house along with a fresh, cool breeze. “You both suck.”

Danny felt a faint smile pull at his face. He ducked his head and fell in, following at Jason’s heels. He didn’t look back to see who shut the door. 

Dick drove them all. They parked a few blocks away and made it across the barren, creepy fairgrounds in utter silence. Danny followed his instincts and the source that he’d sensed from kilometers away in the city center but had been too worn down to even try to trek to without at least feeding his human body.

“So, what now?”  Dick turned a cautious circle. “I didn’t exactly expect to see a physical object for you to eat, but I did sort of expect something.”

Danny made a face. “If I had the right tech I could filter and extract it out of the air, condense it into a really dense, liquid form. But, uh.” He turned a little to the side to avoid eye contact and hunched into his hoodie. “I sort of need to just hang out and…filter feed.” He grimaced. He sounded like a dumb fish.

“Inefficient,” Cass observed.

He nodded. “Yeah, but I’m really drained, so I need to be around a high concentration to get a jumpstart. If I needed less, I could probably just…” Danny made a circle gesture and sort of pointed at Jason. “Hang around him, I guess.”

Cass hummed in the back of her throat. “Perimeter.” Then she ran directly at a wall and hefted herself up onto the roof of the derelict funhouse. She was out of sight in seconds, which was impressive athleticism. Danny watched her go with raised eyebrows.

Dick huffed and shuffled even closer to Jason, clearly wary of Cass. “You can’t be the favorite uncle,” he lamented. “That should be me.” Danny choked down a laugh and pretended to be very busy filter feeding.

“You’re just crabby because you aren’t full of delicious ghost juice,” Jason muttered into Dick’s ear at a volume that he clearly thought Danny wouldn’t hear. The banter didn’t stop him from making periodic glances around the area. He caught an elbow to the gut from Dick for the comment and the inattention. Danny took a step further away from jabbing range.

“We aren’t here to hear you brag about how juicy you are,” Dick said out of the side of his mouth. 

EW. But Danny felt smug satisfaction in Jason’s aura at that answer, so apparently it wasn’t as nasty sounding to him as it was to Danny. He made a blegh face, scraping his tongue against his teeth.

‘Maybe I should tell them at some point that I have better than human hearing.’ He pointedly wandered a few steps further away and pretended to be occupied with sniffing out the highest concentration of ectoplasm.

Jason grinned unpleasantly. “No, I usually have that conversation with all of your exes- oof.” Jason bent over and tried to breathe through the hit to his diaphragm.

Danny did his best to ignore the commentary from the peanut gallery. He took deep breaths and tried to keep an eye on all the shadows. 

Amusement Mile wasn’t saturated with high quality ectoplasm like Amity Park, but nothing ever should be. Danny licked his lips and tried to stay alert. There could be any number of distressed or territorial dead around a place like this. It was eerily still. 

“This place is just plain creepy.” Danny hid a shudder. “What happened here?”

Jason huffed a laugh with absolutely no joy in it. “It’s more like what keeps happening here.” Danny glanced over at just the right angle to realize that Jason had a gun in his pocket. Holy shit. A gun. His eyes went wide.

“But nothing should happen tonight,” Dick cut in. His eyes looked tight and tense in a way that his breezy tone didn’t hint at. “The person who likes to use this area as a staging ground is currently in lockup. We double checked before we came out here.”

All three of them tensed when Cass jumped back down off the same building she’d climbed earlier. “Suspicious,” she said flatly.

Dick and Jason instantly lost their facades of ease. Danny realized, a bit late, that this place was really fucking concerning even to the living. “What’s wrong?” Dick snapped out. His posture changed and somehow his shoulders looked broader. Alarmed, Danny glanced between the adults.  

“Someone was here.” Cass held up a very familiar piece of tech. “Inside vent.”

Danny felt the blood drain out of his face. Cass zeroed in on the expression. “GIW,” he said. “Uh, that measures… that senses ghosts.” He licked his lips. “I think we should go.”

“Are you- are you going to be hungry?” Jason’s brow furrowed fiercely. “You think they might have an alert that you came out here?”

“We are more capable than we look.” Dick promised. And his serious voice was pretty reassuring, actually, all things considered. But Danny still felt like he was going to be sick. 

 Tires screeched. It was too late to get out of here.

[swanimagines]

Teen Wolf: Imagine being Derek’s sister and him finding out that you’re secretly dating Stiles.

requested by anon

Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!

Note 2: A reminder again that in all my newer fics where reader is someone's sibling/child or some other relative, they're always adopted, not related by blood!

When you first met Scott and Stiles, you wouldn’t have believed that one day, you’d end up falling in love with the latter. Your first meeting hadn’t been… good, if you were honest. You saw them as a threat, as did your brother, so your first words to Stiles had been “stay out of this, human”.

Seeing where that meeting brought you now had been completely unexpected. Stiles had somehow gotten enchanted by you, and you soon realised he had a crush on you — despite you having been so harsh at him when he had tried to defend Scott.

And more surprises were coming. Him fumbling and being awkward, at the loss of words before you, you found it cute. Cute. A human, you found a human cute.

You tried to hide it, how you were warming up for him. How he got you to smile, how you started to enjoy his company. It wasn’t logical, it was foolish. And especially when Derek hated Stiles, you having feelings for the boy just didn’t fit the picture.

But, your feelings just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you tried to suppress them, and eventually you just had to blurt them out to him. He just stood there stunned, looking at you for a moment before he started grinning like he had just won in a lottery. And you knew that he kind of had, he had had the biggest crush on you for a long time and now you told him you felt the same way.

But you still needed to keep it hidden from your brother, in fact Scott and the Sheriff were the only ones who knew. You snuck out almost every day after school to hang out with Stiles and there you were at a park, in the shadow of an old oak, heads pressed together and holding hands.

This was one of those days. You two were sitting in the park, beside a pond full of ducks. Stiles had brought a bag of seeds with him, and you fed the ducks together. You were quieter than usual, and Stiles nudged you.

“What are you thinking about?” he mumbled, handing you a few seeds.

“I think Derek is suspecting something,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder. “I can’t help but think that he’s been watching us, he acts so weird. I don’t know what he will do if he finds out about us.”

You threw the seeds to the ducks, making them swarm at your feet. Stiles sighed, looking up for a moment. You knew he wanted to mutter “creep” but you appreciated he didn’t. You took his hand. “I’m not leaving you, in case you’re afraid of that. Even if Derek will try to lock me up.”

Stiles nodded, squeezing your hand back. “I know.”

You sat there for a moment longer, until the seeds ran out and Stiles shook the bag towards the quacking ducks, before throwing it into the trashcan and leaving the park with you. You walked in silence for a moment, before Stiles turned to you. “Wanna come watch a movie? Your brother can’t follow us there, Dad has too many security cameras for that.”

You scoffed. “As if that’d keep him away. But you’re right about it being safer there. He might not want to come in and risk your dad seeing him threatening you.”

He took the jeep keys from his pocket and fumbled with them for a moment. “So… you’re coming?”

You nodded, taking his arm. “Yeah, I’d like to have a good laugh with a comedy before going home.”

—

As the credits rolled, you realised how late it had gotten. The clock had struck midnight a while ago, and you could almost picture Derek tapping his foot impatiently like the Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh. So you reluctantly retreated from Stiles’s warm embrace, stretching out before looking at him. “I should go.”

He sighed, absentmindedly running his thumb across your hand. “Yeah, you probably should.”

You stood up from the couch, swinging your bag over your shoulder, letting Stiles walk you to the door. Once you reached the porch, he leaned against the door frame and you looked at him, biting your lip. “Thanks for tonight,” you mumbled. “I had fun.”

Stiles nodded. “Me too.”

You thought for a moment, but then decided to take the leap — you stepped closer to him. “I think a proper good night wish could be better than just saying it.”

Stiles’s cheeks turned slightly red, and he stuttered slightly. “O-oh?”

“Yeah.”

And then, with one last breath, you gently grasped the collar of his hoodie and pressed your lips to his.

It wasn’t a deep, passionate kiss you see in movies, it was rather short, in between a peck and a proper kiss. But still, when you stepped back, Stiles grinned like he had won the lottery all over again, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

He blinked, straightening up. “Goodnight.”

Then you turned, walking into the night with the biggest grin on your face. The night was chilly, but you felt like your heart was jumping around so much that it almost overheated you. Not that you minded, you were happier than in a long time, and almost felt like skipping through the forest.

Crack.

You stopped dead in your tracks, looking around. “Derek?”

Sure enough, he stepped out from the darkness, and you froze. “I… I was just on my way home.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t lie. I saw what happened.”

You cocked your head, trying to act clueless. “Saw what happen?”

He raised his eyebrows. “The kiss. I saw you kissed him. Didn’t you just tell me there’s nothing going on with him?”

You tried to play stupid and test the waters, laughing. “Nice try. You haven’t been near me today, I haven’t smelled you.”

He shook his head, sighing. “Which is exactly why I’m concerned. You’re losing your focus. What if the Hunters will get you because you’re too busy staring at Stiles’s eyes?”

You kept walking, pushing past him. “You’re overreacting. It was just a kiss.”

He turned around, starting to walk with you. “Just a kiss, and numerous secret dates after school for weeks, or is it months now?”

You groaned, figuring it’s no use to keep pretending. “Alright! We have… something going on with him. But it’s still early, and I’m not abandoning the pack because of him if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“He can’t protect you. The Hunters will use him against you,” Derek said quietly. “You could die because of him.”

“His pack—”

He interrupted you, “He doesn’t have a pack, he’s not one of us. Even if he pretends to belong in Scott’s pack, he isn’t, and will never be, one of them.”

You sighed. You knew he was mostly right. Stiles, being a human, could easily be used against you. He hadn’t learned about everything yet, nor Scott had in that matter. You had tried to guide them, to help, but so far it was going slowly. And you knew that each day, the risks grew. You understood your brother, you had gone through the exact same feelings, wondering and pondering and pacing around your room, before finally concluding you weren’t able to keep it inside you. You had brought up all your worries to Stiles once you decided to tell him about your feelings, and he assured you that Scott would help if any problems came up. You still had doubts, but chose to push them aside for the sake of living. You had done what you could, telling him and Scott about the risks and Stiles still wanted to see what would become of you two.

You stopped, looking up for a moment. “I know it’s dangerous, Derek. But what do you expect me to do? Ignore my feelings, end my relationship? It wouldn’t be fair for me, even less for him. He signed up for this, because he wants to be with me.”

Derek stopped as well, stepping in front of you. He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not asking you to ignore how you feel, but you need to be smart about this. Think about how many times we watched our friends get hurt because they got too close?”

“We’re not children, we can look after ourselves just fine,” you groaned.

He raised his eyebrows. “Can you? Because to me, it looks like one of you will be dead soon, and—.”

You shook your head, raising your hands up. “Stop.”

You stood there in silence for a long while, before Derek crossed his arms again. “You’re not letting this go, are you?”

You huffed. “No. I can only promise to come to you for help if I need any.”

He thought for a moment, and pursed his lips. “Alright. But don’t expect me to like it, or him.”

You smiled a little. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Derek.”

He didn’t say anything, just turned, and you followed him home. Maybe things between Stiles and Derek would be alright in the end after all.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[princessbrunette]

would bountyhunter!rafe ever comfort you when you’re crying about missing home?

i feel like he’d be weirded out the first couple times but eventually it’d be normal for you to fall asleep in his arms

｡•┈🎀┈• ｡ﾟ

yeah, he acts all reluctant about it but he’s not totally emotionless or anything. there is a weight of guilt on his chest when he sees you all curled up by the window at the shitty little motel the two of you were holed up in. he’d been out to get a bottle of whisky — treating himself after all the strife he’d been putting himself through with this whole bounty hunting thing.

as soon as he arrives back into the room you jump up, like you’re scared of being caught crying. quickly, you paw at your eyes — sniffing up as much snot as you can as you face him nervously, swaying on your feet with wide eyes like you were expecting him to be furious with you. he slows his pace, eyeing you over.

“you were crying?” he asks as if it’s not obvious and you look away, swiping beneath your eye once more.

“jus’ had something in my eye.” you croak, heart pounding with the realisation that lying might just get you in more trouble. “dont be mad.” you utter quietly like a prayer.

“i’m not—” he realises he projected his voice just a tad too loud because you tense up, and he sighs— pushing his floppy hair out of his face. “i’m not mad. i just want to know why. was — was it me? did i say some dumb shit?” he approaches you carefully, holding his hands up when you cower slightly to show he comes in peace.

“no.” you shake your head quickly. the last thing you wanted to do was accuse him of anything, grateful of the fact he’d somewhat treated you fairly despite being the one to steal you from your land. “i… i feel homesick. i miss my father… and i miss the barn, and my sheep, and all my chickens. i miss my horse and the cows. i’m so far from home.” you stare out the window, fat droplets wobbling on the precipice of your eye.

rafe sighs, scratching at his cheek awkwardly — unsure of what he’s supposed to say. after all you were homesick because of him. he wasn’t supposed to like you, nor were you particularly supposed to like him — but there had been moments of comfort you’d found in eachother, oddly enough — and now he had really grown attached to you, debating marrying you to keep you for himself.

“yeah…” he drawls, nodding and staring at the back of you for a moment as he perches on the edge of the bed. “shit, look— c’mere.” he beckons, and you do so. you suppose you’re just being obedient to stay out of trouble, but it was undeniable that you craved his comfort. craved him.

he pulls you to sit on his leg, a hand supporting your back. “suppose i should apologise for all… this. i— i didn’t wanna have to take anyone okay it’s… its just my dad is a very powerful man. my whole life i’ve been second best to my sister and… i wanted to show him that i could do what he does. now i’ve done the job and — and it has these real life consequences and i don’t enjoy that trust me, but… what’s done is done. i’ve got you now. i… will get you a new barn. a better one. with more sheep and cows and shit. alright?”

maybe you were too empathetic, because in that moment for the first time you felt kind of sorry for rafe. he wasn’t as big and scary as he usually was. he actually seemed kind of lonely, and insecure. it wouldn’t undo the hurt he’s caused, the fact that it was very unlikely you’d see your father again — but it brought you some comfort to know you were hurting together. you sniffle, nodding in understanding and he sighs again, pulling you into him. “c’mon. stop that.” he jogs his leg a little, comforting you like you were a baby, the only way he knew how.

｡•┈🎀┈• ｡ﾟ

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part I

“I still think we should hit up somewhere else, Jamie. There are tons of bars that would look the other way and let us grab a few drinks.” One of the three young men passing through New York during college break said as they made their way to the old building housing the Devil’s Den, apparently the most hyped club in the city, which had a strict policy of keeping anyone under 21 out.

“Stop being such a fag, Fred! We’re gonna get in, trust me, man of little faith.” Jamie, the group leader with light brown hair, same color as Mark, shot back. Fred, on the other hand, was blond, and more sensitive, which didn’t mean he couldn’t hold his own when it came to arguing; on the contrary, the debate skills of the former debate team captain were legendary.

“Chill, Fred. The worst that can happen is the bouncer looks at the IDs that Jamie’s buddy hooked us up with and realizes we don’t have the right age and kicks us out. But I doubt that’ll happen; in a few months, we’ll all be 21.” Mark commented, always the peacemaker.

“Another reason to wait until we’re actually of age. I don’t want any trouble, guys.” Fred tried to argue again.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here to chicken out, man. If you wanna bail, I’m cool, but think about all the work I put into getting these IDs. And I didn’t even charge you guys!” Jamie grumbled.

“That’s just because your buddy did it for free, asshole. Who the hell is he, anyway?” Mark jumped in before things got heated between the two.

“Some dude I met at the hostel; he’s the one who told me about this place. Apparently, this is the spot for anyone looking for a good time.”

“You mean you trusted someone you barely know? Doesn’t that seem kinda sketchy to you?” Fred asked, outraged, totally shooting down Mark’s efforts.

“I’m sick of your attitude, man! If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you just head back to the hostel?”

“Hey, hey, chill out, you two! We’re here to have a good time! Fred, let’s check out the place, and if we don’t like it or they kick us out, we’ll head back to the hostel, and I promise I’ll be your wingman with those hot Italian chicks who showed up yesterday, alright? And Jamie, you dumbass, he’s not entirely wrong; it was pretty stupid to trust a stranger, but it’s done now, so let’s just try to have fun, please?” Mark chimed in again.

“Fine, but you know that your parents would kill us if anything goes south, Mark.” Warne Fred, whose parents had already passed away, and, in Jamie’s opinion, was the last one who should be worried instead of acting like a little pussy. Not that he’d say that, at least not now that his buddy finally decided to man up.

“Finally acting like a man, Fred, and not like a little bitch!”

“Hey, man, that’s enough!”

“Chill out, Mark; you’re starting to sound like your dad. Sorry, Fredster, I just want an unforgettable night with my best buds.” Jamie said, hugging Fred on one side to encourage him while Mark did the same on the other.

As they approached the ridiculously long entrance line, Jamie commented.

“Since we’re talking about those hot Italian girls, it’s funny that if we were in most other countries, we wouldn’t even need to convince Fred here; we’d all be of age to drink until we drop without a care in the world.”

“I don’t think your dad would be too happy about hauling his kid from the gutter.” Mark remarked.

“He’s not as strict as your dad, man, but yeah… maybe it’s best not to push it. Damn, look at this line! No way I’m waiting all this crap! Oh, wait, I just remembered something; follow me!” Jamie said, signaling for his friends to follow him to the front of the line, where a huge black guy, looking like a muscle mountain, was running the door, checking IDs and occasionally greeting a buddy with a half-smile in his otherwise stern face. He saw the guys approaching and crossed his arms, giving them a menacing smirking look.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?”

“Good evening, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and, said… said that he hopes you have a… a hell of a night.” Jamie said, sounding unsure for the first time.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” Mark replied, handing over the fake IDs, which the guy scrutinized for a few seconds.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed someone before handing the IDs back to the guys and cracking a smile. “Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

As they stepped into the spacious lobby, the guys were hit with the sounds of music and excited screams, along with flashing lights. And the most impressive thing of all was a guy with olive skin, well-groomed beard and black hair, and a distinctive aquiline nose that hinted at some mediterranean ir middle eastern heritage. But what really stood out about the guy was his stunning build, partially covered by a sharp suit and shiny black pants, with his muscular torso on display for anyone who wanted to see, staring at them with disconcerting eyes and a mischievous grin that made the three feel like they were really inside the Devil’s Den.

“Dude, they really know how to set a mood.” Jamie remarked, eyeing the imposing figure. “Alright, first drinks, then we hit the dance floor for the hot chicks!”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna hit the bathroom; my bladder’s about to explode!” Fred said.

“Then it’s a wonder you didn’t piss yourself from fear before we even got in.”

“Go fuck yourself, Jamie!” he shot back, irritated, as he blended into the crowd on the dance floor.

“You really can’t pass up a chance to be an idiot, can you?” Mark commented, following his other friend through the crowd. “Let me talk to him; you do something useful and grab the drinks. You know a few shots will loosen him up.”

“It’s not my fault he needs booze to stop being a little bitch.” Jamie yelled to be heard over the noise, turning heads with expressions of disbelief toward him, but he was too hyped about the night’s promises to notice, heading for the nearest bar, closely followed by the sinister figure from the entrance. It wasn’t until he reached the bar that he noticed the company.

“Hello, James.” The man said over the cacophony, though his voice didn’t need to rise for Jamie to hear him.

“How do you know my name?” Jamie shouted back.

“Jerome gave me a heads-up about your arrival; I’m Mr. Shay the manager of this place. And I know you shouldn’t be here tonight, kid.”

“Damn… then why didn’t you stop us at the door?”

“Because I understand the need for a young man to rebel. Especially when his dad is such a major buzzkill.” The man said with bright eyes.

“I… he just wants what’s best for me… a decent job for a real man and… and sometimes it’s a drag.” Jamie replied in a whisper, not realizing the man knew way more about him than he should.

“Oh, I get it, kid, and just when you finally have a chance to chill, your friends leave you hanging.”

“Pussies!” The kid grumbled, not seeing the man’s eyes flash dangerously.

“You seem to have a problem with gay people. What’s that about?”

“I don’t have a problem with gays; I have issues with little faggots, those sissy boys who take it up the ass like they’re chicks. My dad raised me to be a real man.”

“But it’s tough living under the weight of other people’s expectations, under the rigid standards taught by someone, isn’t it? Sometimes all you wanna do is chill out, let loose, and be happy, right? And have your friends be able to enjoy that with you.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, it’s settled! Poncho, a shot of tequila for my buddy here.” The man said as the spell seemed to break while he glided through the crowd with ease, almost floating, and for an instant if one looked closely one would catch a glimpse of his true form.

Still a bit dazed, Jamie turned to the bar and bumped into a Latino guy in his late thirties, with a chiseled, muscular chest completely exposed except for a bow tie around his neck, sipping a drink while the shot of tequila the other guy ordered was held in his hand.

“On the house.” The guy said with a smile. Without thinking twice, Jamie downed the shot.

“Nice one, hermano.” The man commented, grinning.

“Gracias, tio.” Jamie replied, smiling as he left the bar with a dreamy look.

There was definitely something extra in that tequila, Jamie’s rational side thought, a side that seemed to shrink more every minute. He wandered aimlessly through the crowd, seeing colors and smelling scents he’d never experienced before, while that rational side tried in vain to shout inside his head, drowned out by an overwhelming numbness.

“Mierda, que guapo…” he murmured in Spanish, watching a muscular guy dancing shirtless. Without even stopping to think how out of character that was for him.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, with an unspeakable desire taking hold of him, making him vibrate and tremble inside he made his way toward the guy, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, Javier, the latino 21 years old man, approached the older man.

“Hey, papi, want some company?” He asked with a vacant look and dreamy voice that the other guy didn’t seem to notice, and in a few seconds, they were both dancing to the rhythm of the music.

“So, kid, where you from?”

“Right here, raised in El Barrio.” Javier answered.

“But where did your family come from?”

“My grandparents came with my dad and my uncles from Colombia in the early 90s. Maybe you know my uncle. He works as a bartender here; they call him Poncho, even though he’s not Mexican, but he says he doesn’t care.”

“Oh, so that’s why a kid like you is in here.” The man commented.

“I’ll show you who’s the kid.” Javier replied, kissing the man, who returned the kiss with passion.

Neither of them seemed to notice that the kid’s shirt seemed to evaporate in the air or the inches he gained in height or the facial hair sprouting on his face. After a long moment of pleasure, the two pulled away.

“So, papi, am I man enough for you?” Javi asked with a grin, while the other guy stared at him, breathless.

“Now I gotta bounce; my shift’s about to start!” Javi said, walking with a smile toward the bar. His muscles growing and expanding into an athletic, well-proportioned physique, with just the bow tie of his uniform to cover up.

“Hey, you didn’t even tell me your name, boy!”

“If you want to find me, just head to the bar. And don’t call me boy; do I look like a kid to you?” He replied, flexing his muscles. Only a man could call him that, and that certainly wasn’t this one.

When he got to the bar, his uncle greeted him with a smile but also with a warning.

“If your dad finds out about this…”

“What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, tio. Plus, next year I’ll be graduating, and the boss is gonna put me to work in accounting, although I think I’ll still take a few shifts with you just for fun.”

“Javi, you really don’t get it, do you? If not your dad, then because of that musclehead you’re seeing.”

“It’s his fault for not showing up yet. And right when the main attraction’s about to start.” He said, looking at the club’s stage lighting up. “Though to him no attraction compares to my ass.” He concluded with a grin.

[pablitogavii]

Resolved Anger

“You’re not going! End of conversation!” Pablo was practically yelling at me at this point while still getting ready himself for this stupid party.

“And you are!? Mete a la mierda Pablo!” I was sitting on his bed wearing his oversized t-shirt with eyes crossed in front of my chest.

“I’m not taking you to lions den, where every footballer will try to fuck you enana!” He said putting on his leather jacket.

“You’re the only footballer who can fuck me then huh cabr��n!?” I said angrily while he smirked nodding his head and leaning in closer.

“Dame un beso..” he said demanding it more than asking for it and I felt a shiver move down my spine.

He always claimed to be my “protective friend” but it’s a load of crap since every time we are close like this, he ends up between my legs..

“You know how footballers are hijo..keep them away from her” my dad said and Pablo squeezed my thigh underneath the dinner table.

“Te lo prometo” Pablo answered while I tried my best to control my breathing.

“Ya enana!” he was impatient and I sighed touching his face and pecking his lips with a pout..maybe this makes him let me go to the damn party!

“Take..me..with..you” I said between each kiss and he smirked rubbing our noses together.

“No y basta!” He said and I signed pulling away from him which made him roll his beautiful brown eyes at me. Idiot!

He was done getting ready adding that addicting perfume before walking up to be curled up in bed.

“Besito before I leave bombocito?” He said moving behind me but I was in no mood and he could tell.

“Estás enojada conmigo huh?” He said touching my arm and turning me to lay in my back so I can see him.

“Si..” I answer quietly because whenever he was hovering above me like this, it becomes hard to breathe.

“Hmm and if I give you your mimitos before bed?” He said and I felt my own excitement rise..I always loved when he would cuddle and kiss me to sleep.

I just nodded shyly and he leaned in leaving kisses on my neck pulling me on top of him while laying down on the bed.

“Vale, veni aquí cari” he said and I moved pulling on his jacket and he took it off to make me more comfortable. I nuzzled my face into his neck and he was playing with my hair.

“Que haces conmigo? Hm?” He said moving my hair back and looking down at my face with a smile. That damn smile..

“No te vayas..” I said sadly and he signed kissing the top of my head softly. It wasn’t that I wanted to go to that party so much that I knew girls would be hitting on Pablo like always

“Sleep..and I’ll be back quick” he said but that only made me grumpier. I tried pulling away but he wouldn’t let me and I couldn’t fight his strong muscular arms.

“Que tengas huh? You really wanna go that badly?” He said wrapping a strand of my hair around his finger and I shook my head.

“They will steal you from me..” I said and he smiled pulling you in and kissing your forehead.

“Tan preciosa..” he said and I sighed shrugging my shoulders while he moved on top of me.

“How do you think I feel when you mingle around footballers..” he said and I giggled..I knew Pablo was jealous and I loved him for it.

“Only one is on top of me every night..” I said and he smirked proudly kissing my lips and enjoying the ways my fingers played with his hair.

“Hmm estás mala..muy mala amor” he groaned when I started to scratch his back as he caught my lips kissing them passionately.

Then his phone rang..what a incredible timing boys have!!!

“Hola? Ah si, hermano..estoy list..oooh” he didn’t expect my lips sucking ontoo his neck as he gave me a warning look that made me smirk in amusement.

“Basta enana!” He said but I kept leaving hickeys all over his skin while Balde was talking about the plans for the night.

“Si que estoy escuchando cabrón!” He said while I laughed knowing he wasn’t paying attention to anything but how I made him feel now.

“Bueno! I’ll see you later Balde!” Gavi got off the call when I started kissing down his chest and unbuttoning his shirt.

“Que haces mi vida?” He said and I smirked leaving a trail off kisses and giving every one of his abs special attention.

“Making you stay with me..” I whisper seeing his jaw clenching.

“How am I doing papi??” I stopped looking up at him with arms behind his head and his eyes closed. Clearly he was very into it..

“Keep convincing me princesa..” he said and our eyes met as he held my cheeks and kissed my lips.

“J..joderrr” he groaned as I undid his shorts and started sucking him off needy for more.

“Ahhh princesa..mía..tan buena” he was playing with my hair taking off the rest of his clothes and pulling down by my legs to get on top.

“Im destroying your pussy tonight!” He sounded so angry and hot that I already had pool between my legs.

“Do it papii. I’m all yours “ I moaned making him smirk proudly.

“This was your plan all along .. huh traviesa!?” He was pounding his cock into me making my mind go blank.

“Yes! Please don’t go..just fuck me all night instead” I begged making him twist me on my stomach and get behind.

[cursingtoji]

hi ! for cliches could you do “fake dating” with gojo please ?

𝑭𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

cw: fluff, naoya ┊The Clichés ™

“You’re buying matcha Daifuku after this or I’ll never talk to you again” Satoru reminded when you were about to arrive the Zenin state.

“Stop complaining, I already told you I will. Besides, you’re gonna get free food here” you adjusted your kimono.

“Like I would eat anything made by a Zenin.”

“You really don’t know them if you think they cook their own food.”

Your family was invited to a wedding at the Zenin state, you didn’t actually knew the couple but your parents did, and they insisted that you had to go to meet Naoya cause ‘you two would be great together’. After that you panicked and told them you were in fact dating and you would only come if you could bring your boyfriend as a plus one.

Of course your parents were a bit disappointed but once you told them your boyfriend was no other than a Gojo they agreed.

“So, just stay by my side the whole time and in a few days I’ll just tell my parents we broke up, by then Naoya will be back in Tokyo so they won’t try to play cupid anymore.”

“What makes you think I wanna break up?” he placed his arm around your shoulders which you immediately pushed away.

“Listen—” you moved to stay in front of him, only then realizing how beautiful he looked with his dark kimono and no sunglasses, you picked the outfit yourself so neither him or you wouldn’t stand out, the less attention you got from the Zenins the better. That proved to quite impossible when your friend had the prettiest features anyone could wish for.

“I’m listening” he teased when a few seconds passed and you still haven’t said anything, “Like what you see?”

“I’m— Shut up” you moved back to his side lacing your arms together and passing through the gates.

Your parents met you there and you formally introduced Gojo to them. Satoru of course couldn’t help but being… Satoru.

“I can see where your daughter inherited such beauty” he directed to your mom who giggled, “Sir I heard so much about you and what a great father you are to my precious girl” you wanted to throw up. The one thing you told Satoru about your dad was his name.

“Excuse me, I need to find the toilet” you headed there trying to avoid any Zenin on your way. As soon as you were done your mother was waiting for you nearby with no one other than Naoya Zenin.

“Darling, come here. Have you met Naoya before?” you took a look at him. He was tall, no as much as Satoru, and surprisingly handsome, again no as much as Satoru. Yet even the slightest chance of becoming a Zenin made you want to run away as fast as you could.

“Pleasure” he said simply.

“Likewise” you replied dryly.

“I’ll leave you two to talk” your mother claimed and walked away. Unbelievable.

“Your mother told me you are with the Gojo kid. If you don’t mind me asking: how did you two met?” he seemed to be suspicious, could your mom have told him she wasn’t sure about the legitimacy of this relationship?

“Hm—“

“We met at Jujutsu Tech, during the joined event between Tokyo and Kyoto” Satoru appeared to your side magically. Naoya raised his brows slightly but didn’t really moved, like a human being teleported in front of him wasn’t really worth being surprised, “It was love at first sight” he placed his hand on your waist, Naoya’s eyes were fixed on your blushing face.

“You two are quite young to be in a serious relationship” he observed. Indeed both you and Gojo were in the last year of Jujutsu Tech, you in Kyoto and him in Tokyo. That weekend he miraculously was in Kyoto for a mission and as soon as he texted you that you already asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend for that event.

Naoya shouldn’t be more than a couple years older than you, but you knew his intentions were to disqualify your relationship, which was quite courageous since your pretended boyfriend was one of the strongest sorcerers.

“And you are quite old to not be a in a relationship, what’s the problem? Can’t find a submissive wife nowadays?” you lighted elbowed Gojo. Even though you didn’t like the Zenins your parents had business with them, so it was best to keep being friendly.

Naoya squinted his eyes, probably thinking ‘how dare him’. That conversation was getting dangerous, the last thing you wanted was to cause a conflict in a house full of powerful sorcerers.

“You should go, thanks for receiving us” you pulled Satoru before their cursed energy raised and everyone directed their attention at the three of you, “Seriously?” you asked when you were out in the garden with him alone.

“Sorry, sweets, I just can’t stand him and the way he was looking at you. The audacity of this guy…” you adjusted your hair to cover the heat on your face.

The truth was you and Satoru weren’t really close, you only hanged out together once a year during the days of the Kyoto x Tokyo event and the times when he was in Kyoto for a mission or you in Tokyo. That’s why Gojo was surprised when you called him to pretend to be your boyfriend and how could he say no when he has been crushing on you since day one?

“We don’t have to stay until the ceremony, I’ll tell my parents we got called for a mission—“ you felt Satoru’s warm hand on your cheek and he moved your face to look at him, as soon as you met his piercing blue eyes you lost track of your thoughts.

He slowly approached his face to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation for a kiss. His hand held your face gently but his lips kissed you strongly and stood there for a few seconds, enough to make your heart beat faster than it did during a fight.

“He’s looking at us” Satoru whispered making you open your eyes, he was facing the windows of the house you just left.

“Oh” you couldn’t hold the disappointment in your voice.

“You’re right, you should go, the cursed energy in this house is overwhelming me” he massaged his temple.

“No one told you to come without your sunglasses.”

“Please, like you didn’t want everyone to see what a gorgeous set of blue eyes your boyfriend has” you giggled. ‘Your boyfriend’ was a tittle Satoru could get used to, “Besides I’ve been wanting to try something different” he pulled a black fabric from his pocket.

“Is that a mask?”

“Yeah, it covers more than the glasses and doesn’t wear me out so much, it looks weird though.”

“Can I?” you asked for the mask and he handed to you, “Bend down a little bit.”

Satoru flex his knees to be closed to your height, your fingers brushed his hair back before surrounding his eyes with the blindfold and tying it on the back, Gojo could still see the shape of your face due to the cursed energy and he smiled once he noted the darker shade around your cheeks.

“W—What are you smiling for?” you let go of the fabric adjusting his hair a little bit more.

“Nothing, sweets” he pinched your cheeks.

“Take a look” you pulled a mirror from your tiny purse and handed to him, the way you put his hair was way better than what he was doing before, now it didn’t seem like he was about to hit a piñata.

“What do you think?” he asked, it was weird not seeing his eyes but you knew he was going to feel better like that.

“It’s okay… you look nice” you murmured not wanting to give him too much to brag about.

“Haha you think i’m super handsome, don’t you?”

And he did it anyways.

“No, let’s go.”

“Time for matcha daifuku” he placed his arm around your shoulders and you didn’t pushed away this time.

[steddieas-shegoes]

homework

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'let's talk about that'

rated t | 990 words | no cw | tags: therapy, gareth pov, personal growth, self-discovery

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Gareth hates therapy.

Okay, hate might be a strong word.

He dislikes it strongly and wishes he could just write in a journal or something.

“Let’s talk about that some more,” the therapist, Jessica, smiled encouragingly.

“Talk about what?” He genuinely has no clue what she wants to hear more about.

“Your need for validation from your bandmates.”

Oh. That.

He wouldn’t really call it a need. He just doesn’t ever do anything that they’d dislike him doing. Even if it would make him happy.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You mentioned that sometimes you have ideas for songs, but you know one of them won’t like it, so you don’t suggest it. Why don’t you give it a try even if they don’t like it?” She clarified.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“Because Jeff and Eddie basically run the band. They come up with most of the shit we do, I just add the drums,” he explained. “It’s worked that way this long, why disrupt the flow?”

“Do they tell you not to give your opinion?”

“Of course not. They always ask what I think.”

“And you choose to not give them honesty.”

“I…”

He didn’t realize that’s what was happening. And he hates that it took a therapist to figure it out.

“I’m not lying to them!” He rushed to say.

“Maybe not. But you’re not being completely truthful, either. Do you think they’d be upset if they knew that you were holding back to maintain the peace?”

Gareth hates therapy.

If Steve hadn’t insisted they all go twice a month, he wouldn’t even be here. If Sam hadn’t backed Steve up, a knowing smirk on his face when Gareth and Frankie argued they didn’t need therapy, he would be sitting on his couch or behind his drums.

“I guess there’s a chance they would be a little upset,” he finally admitted. “But not nearly as upset as if I disagreed with them and we argued.”

“How do you know a disagreement would lead to an argument?”

“Because all disagreements lead to arguments. Arguments lead to fights and silence and cold shoulders. Cold shoulders lead to people not wanting to be around each other anymore.”

Damn, Jessica was fucking good at her job. He didn’t even mean to say all that.

He didn’t even know he felt all that.

“Is this a pattern you’ve experienced before?” She set her notepad aside, all attention on him.

“I guess, yeah. My parents. My older brother and my dad. My grandparents and my mom. My first best friend.” He shrugged. “Just easier to go along with things. It’s not like I’m not happy.”

“Settling and being happy are two different things.”

“I am happy. Really.”

He is. He’s never been happier, actually. He gets to do the coolest job in the world with his best friends, he has a boyfriend he loves more than anything, and he gets to drink his favorite coffee every morning. Life is great.

“Do you think that happiness stems from the peace you’ve forced yourself to accept or from being content in your life?” Jessica leaned forward.

“Do you do this with everyone? Is this magic?” He asked, suddenly having the overwhelming urge to cry or run or both.

She laughed. “No, it’s not magic. It’s just understanding my people. You don’t give me much to work with, but sometimes something sticks out and I can run with it.”

“Seems like magic.” He sighs. There’s no way out of this conversation. “What am I supposed to do? Cause problems until no one wants me in the band anymore?”

“No. Do you want actual advice or do you wanna try to figure it out yourself?” She leaned back in her chair. “I’m pretty sure you won’t like my advice.”

“I don’t like most of what you say.”

“Fair enough.” She smiles. “I think you should try being honest next time there’s something you have a different opinion on. No one is going to hate you or want you out of the band. They value your opinion or they wouldn’t have you there to begin with.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Not necessarily. It’s only as hard as you make it.” She makes a note in the planner next to her. “I’m expecting you to give me at least one example of doing this by our next session.”

“Homework? I’m busy enough!” Gareth didn’t want this to get in the way of tour prep. They were starting rehearsals next week and had a few last minute adjustments to make on their album before the tour started.

“And it’s the perfect time to speak up,” she raised a brow, daring him to continue arguing. When he didn’t, she spoke again. “I’m not expecting you to do it all overnight. Just once.”

“Fine.”

****

The first rehearsal was a shit show. It always is, but everyone’s nerves were shot today after barely sleeping and a flight delay keeping two of the tech managers unavailable for an extra few hours.

Frankie snapped on him earlier, but he walked away. That wasn’t the time to follow Jessica’s advice.

Eddie stormed from the room a few minutes ago, said he needed a break to call Steve. He’d been arguing with his guitar tech over which of his five guitars to use for a song.

Gareth started to speak up to give his opinion, but Eddie was already too frustrated.

See, Jessica? This is why you should stay quiet.

But Eddie came back a few minutes later and asked Gareth what he thought.

“The one you use for Blue Night is probably what you should use for Invade. Sounds are similar enough for those songs,” he said without thinking.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Eddie agreed, knocking his shoulder against Gareth’s. “Thanks, man.”

“Dunno why he listens to you and not me,” the guitar tech grumbled.

Gareth smiled.

Okay, Jessica. Maybe you were right this time.

[quin-ns]

The blue III (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

JJ got over his admittedly smug satisfaction of getting you to himself for the rest of the night when he woke up in the morning.

As he stretched out in the chair, sleep slipping away as he extended his sore limbs, he recalled how he got there in the first place.

He looked over to you and noticed you smiling lazily, but it wasn’t at him.

“I just finished cooking, if you guys are hungry,” John B announced, having appeared in the doorway.

John B gave him a smile, and JJ glowered in response. He wasn’t awake enough to hide his real feelings yet.

John B’s smile faltered and JJ knew his friend wasn’t all that deserving of his contempt as the other boy disappeared back inside.

“You hungry?” you asked, throwing a glance his way as you got up from the couch.

JJ didn’t hesitate to follow you into the house.

Days later, he still felt that nasty twinge of jealousy in his gut.

Since that morning he’d done his best to keep it in. And it was working, for the most part. If John B noticed before, he didn’t bring it up. JJ was grateful for that because his friend definitely did notice.

If he had asked JJ what was wrong, JJ wasn’t sure he knew how to answer.

I don’t want you to try and date my step sister because I’m jealous that I can’t didn’t sound like an acceptable explanation. Even sitting by himself with his thoughts couldn’t help JJ become that delusional.

Even if he wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable lounging in the chair on his porch, JJ hated being at home alone. The only thing worse was being home with his dad. Sure, he could’ve gone to the Chateau, but he wanted to pick you up from work on time. He also thought about just showing up and hanging out with you, but the Carreras treated him like a seagull—convinced his only purpose was to steal food and pester their daughter.

The buzzing of his phone pulled him from his thoughts. He almost opened the message right away, as he usually did, but he read the preview and disappointment stuck. He decided against it.

Y/N: hey, kie’s gonna drive me tonight just lyk

When it started getting dark, JJ hopped on his bike and set off towards The Wreck anyway. You’d woken up earlier than him so he hadn’t seen you all day, he didn’t want to wait.

Was it cheesy of him to think he missed you already? Probably, but JJ didn’t care.

He came to a stop in the parking lot, near Kie’s jeep so you couldn’t miss him. JJ didn’t mind waiting however many minutes he did, when you stepped out with a hint of surprise on your face, it was worth it.

The light from the restaurant lit up your features, and he was certain the expression on your face said you were pleased to see him.

He couldn’t help but smirk. He was about to open his mouth to shoot a joke your way, but Kiara stopped across from him at your side and spoke up first.

“What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” JJ lied with ease. He stepped away from his bike. He reminded himself to keep it simple, stuffing his hands into his pocket so he wouldn’t fidget with them.

He looked at you as you said, “I texted you she was gonna give me a ride.”

The slight doubt on your face was cute. He almost wondered if you were gonna take out your phone and check—but he’d covered his bases with that, the text would still say ‘delivered’ and not ‘read’.

JJ shrugged it off. “I didn’t see it. You wanna ride with me to the Chateau then? Since I detoured all the way here,” he said with a mix of sarcasm and guilt-tripping.

You rolled your eyes and it made him smile to himself when you looked away to Kiara.

“I’ll see you there,” you told the other girl. JJ knew you weren’t going to say no. You were already climbing onto the bike before he could say anything else. “Come on, since you’re in such a rush.”

Your voice held the same teasing his had.

“You’re so bossy.”

JJ was aware how flirtatious it sounded, but you didn’t react. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not. He climbed onto the bike and told you to hold on. Your arms slid under his, locking together around him. Your chest pressed to his back, and JJ felt a flutter of excitement as he sped off away from the restaurant.

He would have driven faster, but he was much more cautious when you were riding with him. The last thing he wanted to do was lose control with you on board.

Even still, he could feel your heart pounding against his back. His own heart rate picked up when you held him tighter. It didn’t matter how many times the two of you had been in this position, it always thrilled him in a way that would just make him long for you later when you parted from him.

Concern crept in and he slowed down a little, making sure you could hear him when he asked you if you were alright.

“All good,” you replied with what was hopefully the truth.

“I’ve never crashed this thing,” JJ called back to you. He didn’t want you to be genuinely worried. “You can trust me.”

“I know,” you told him without hesitation. It made him release a breath, relieved. He sped up a little again, aware that Kiara was driving behind and wouldn’t like the slow pace. As he did that, he heard your voice one more time as you declared, “I do!”

JJ laughed a little to himself, hearing the squeak in your voice due to him speeding up right as you spoke.

He got you two to the Chateau pretty quick after that, and when he pulled into the yard and stopped the bike, JJ felt you relax against his back.

He climbed off the bike first, reluctantly making you separate from him, but he made up for it by offering his hand. It was a simple gesture but as you hopped off, you looked like you appreciated the extra balance.

“Thanks,” you said softly, eyes going past his.

JJ followed your gaze and spotted Pope and John B already seated around a small fire. They waved, and JJ held your hand a little tighter.

“Campfire, nice,” he muttered, not wanting to let you go.

So, he took a risk, and didn’t. It was small enough that he could get away with it—he had a list in his mind of what he could play off if you asked what the hell he was doing, and what he’d have no excuse for.

Holding your hand? Sorry, he didn’t notice he still was. Why was he standing so close? He could ask you the same thing. Why was he staring at you? He wasn’t, he just zoned out.

You never asked him these questions, but he still liked having the answers ready, knowing he had a tendency to push things.

JJ led the way further into the yard, bringing you along behind him. You didn’t let go or pull away from him, which JJ was sure he’d obsessed about later.

For now, he put on his best attitude to try and enjoy the night. He didn’t want to be a buzzkill, that was the last thing JJ thought of himself as.

“Where’s Kie?” Pope asked first, looking between JJ and you, wondering where the last member of the group was.

“Nice to see you too, Pope,” JJ sassed.

He had a feeling Pope might be crushing on Kie, but he wasn’t going to give him too hard of a time about it. At least he liked someone outside of his own house.

“She was right behind us,” you pointed out.

You turned your body to face where the jeep had parked, spotting Kie as she climbed out of her car. Not just that, but you dropped his hand. Were you just looking for an excuse to do so? Or was it just an afterthought?

JJ bit back his disappointment, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Let’s get this party started,” you declared, finding the chair closest to you.

JJ sat beside you, which happened to be next to John B. His friend handed him a beer as a silent greeting, and JJ accepted the gesture with a nod. They were cool, everything was fine. Beers got passed around as soon as Kie joined the group and everyone began to unwind.

“I swear, we get the dumbest customers,” Kiara complained about work, shooting you a knowing look. “That lady today with the tattoo of Garfield on her arm?”

“Oh god,” you groaned and tilted your head back, as if just the memory gave you a migraine. “She walked up to the counter and was super rude to me, and then with a completely serious face asked how to get to The Wreck.”

“What’d you say?” John B wondered, raising his brows in curiosity.

“I told her it was a mile down the road.”

JJ chuckled alongside everyone else, appreciating the deviousness.

“Then what happened?” John B asked.

“She left,” you concluded, proud of yourself.

John B laughed hard.

You lifted your head a little to give him a look, but he just kept laughing. JJ saw the way a smile worked its way onto your face.

Okay, that was… fine. JJ didn’t want to be in a bad mood, so he angled himself to focus on you. It made him feel better. You always did.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Kie told you in a teasing tone. “Common sense and decency are both necessary life skills.”

The two of you clicked your bottles together at that.

“You think that’s bad?” Pope started what was surely a story of his own. “Try working grocery delivery for Kooks. The amount of people who ask for stuff they never ordered like I can just make it appear is crazy…”

And so that set everyone off on another tangent, but JJ noticed the subtle way you kept flicking your eyes to John B. JJ kept his back to the other boy, suspecting he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut if he saw John B shooting you that flirty smile he used on Tourons.

They hadn’t explicitly had the conversation, but John B had to know you were off limits. Not just due to the whole ‘no Pogue on Pogue macking’ rule for the group, but also because of your connection to JJ. He didn’t see you as a sister, he never had. You were like a best friend who happened to live with him. But no one else knew that, so John B should take your relationship at face value and know a sibling of any kind was off limits.

And that was all aside from the fact that JJ was hopelessly into you.

It was ironic, really, because if you were any other girl that JJ was into, and John B knew that, he would’ve backed off. Especially because JJ actually liking a girl for more than just a night had never happened before. But you weren’t any other girl, and JJ couldn’t let John B know. Even more than that, he didn’t want you to know. The two of you had something incredible he couldn’t risk destroying. That knowledge didn’t stop him from wanting to take that risk, but fear did.

So it made it hard when John B didn’t let up on flirting with you. If it was obvious to him, it was obvious to everyone else. JJ observed you every time John B went out of his way to make you laugh, or the way you’d send witty comments his way. He couldn’t quite read you as well as he wished he could. It was hard to tell if you were truly reciprocating or just playing along. Although, he liked to think it was the latter.

Every once in a while, JJ would say something, and you’d look his way. The frustration he’d feel bubbling up at John B would simmer down when you focused solely on him, even for a short period. Listening to what he said, chuckling in response. No one had ever quite had that effect on JJ before you.

Suddenly, you let out a sound of amusement. It looked like it surprised you, snapping you out of your own head. It brought JJ back to reality too, unsure of what other conversation had been carrying on around him.

“What’s on your mind?” John B asked you before JJ could get a word out.

You shrugged, clearly having been zoned out too. “What’s on yours?”

“If El Dorado is real.”

Very funny, how clever. JJ kept back the sarcastic comment to himself.

“It’s definitely not,” Pope interjected, making JJ want to shake his head.

“You don’t dream of good and riches, Pope?” he asked the boy across from him. JJ got an eye roll in response, which was pretty on brand for Pope.

John B brushed past it, no doubt zeroed in on you. They had that in common recently.

“Your turn.”

You hummed, and JJ could see the way you fought back a teasing grin. “Where I’m gonna go on vacation. What do you think—Cancun or Bali?”

“Cancun is closer. What kind of room are you booking?” John B was quick to play along. “Ocean view would be nice.”

JJ felt a familiar twinge of jealousy. He shifted in his chair.

Then, you asked, “Why, do you wanna come with?” and JJ’s mouth felt dry.

“I don’t know, do you want the company?”

It didn’t matter if the scenario was fake, JJ was begging you to say no. Please no.

To shut himself up, JJ grabbed his beer and downed it.

“Maybe I do,” you replied, and JJ stifled a coughing fit.

You weren’t trying to hurt him but god did it burn. It was John B’s fault, baiting you into this, trying to make you… what, like him?

He needed to back off, that’s what he needed to do.

Just as JJ was about to say something, Kie swooped in and did it for him.

“Can you two quit it? All the flirting is making me nauseous.”

Same here, JJ thought to himself.

“Aw, don’t be jealous, Kie,” John B said smugly. “You can come with.”

Kiara rolled her eyes and so did JJ. John B sounded really full of himself right now and the thought crept in that someone should put him in his place.

“Barring the fact that this vacation is hypothetical, I’d also like to be invited,” Pope commented.

Seriously? Even Pope was endorsing this? Despite being last to speak, your eyes didn’t stay on him for more than a second, maybe. JJ counted.

A gnawing feeling struck in his gut as he finally looked to John B, knowing that’s who your eyes were on. The envy he’d smothered before boiled over all of the sudden. He wanted to blame it on the beer, but he wasn’t sure he could.

“‘Course you’re goin’, Pope!” The words burst out before JJ could stop himself, a strained laugh never even making its way out. It came out more hostile than he had intended, even if it really was what he felt. He dropped his hand to John B’s shoulder, fingers gripping a little too tight as he forced a smile. His teeth were clenched together behind a closed lipped smile as he locked eyes with John B. He looked startled. Good, JJ thought. “You got room for the rest of us? Or were you just gonna steal Y/N and take off?”

An uncontrollable bitterness had seeped into his voice by now. His fingers pressed in harder as no response came. It wasn’t a hypothetical question, he wanted an answer.

JJ wondered if John B would fess up, because it certainly seemed like that’s what he wanted to do.

John B looked… concerned. It made JJ falter for a moment. It made him question if he’d somehow fooled himself into seeing things differently.

“No one’s stealing anyone,” he replied carefully. JJ blinked. He became very aware of how silent the group had become. He nearly looked over to you, but John B wasn’t done. “You know that, right?”

JJ took a moment, eyes narrowing slightly, examining John B’s face and replaying the words. Was it an apology without the exact words? Or an attempt to get him to back down?

“It’s not like we’re actually going anywhere,” Kiara interjected, a subduing tone to her voice.

“Right,” JJ said slowly. He detached himself from John B, feeling the pressure of all eyes on him. Usually, he wouldn’t mind, but he was used to being the comic relief when that happened. He found his bottle and stared down at it as he held it tight in his hand. “Maybe some other time, when we find El Dorado,” he tried to joke, but it came out tense.

The silence that followed was louder than if anyone had laughed.

The focus on him made JJ want to crawl out of his skin. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, because he knew he might break under your questioning gaze.

Blaming John B seemed like the easiest out in his mind, but he couldn’t get on a soapbox and point fingers now. He couldn’t even be certain you even liked the other boy, but just that thought made his head spin in the worst way possible. He tried to lift his beer and drink what was left, but nothing remained. Great. JJ looked at the bottle with spite. He wanted to throw it, but resolved to drop it and stand instead.

“I’m gonna get another, you guys want anything?” he asked in a mutter, walking off to the house.

When he got inside, JJ gripped the counter and bowed his head, catching his breath. He didn’t realize how he’d held it until he stopped for a moment to try and consciously breathe.

He needed to get control of himself, he was all over the place tonight. If he could just take a minute and let himself get settled, he could plaster on a smile and walk back out with a beer in hand and get drunk enough to ease his nerves.

Just when he pulled himself together enough that he thought he could walk back out, John B appeared in the doorway.

“You wanna tell me what that was?” John B questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

JJ scoffed. He didn’t receive being cornered very well. Never had.

“Not sure what you mean.”

“Can’t exactly lie when I was right there,” John B countered. “Is this about Y/N?” JJ’s jaw clenched at the mention of you. That was answer enough. “I don’t know what you think is going on, but we were just messing around. Don’t be mad at Y/N,” John B requested, like he was some kind of knight who was protecting your honor.

“I’m not,” JJ replied.

“But you’re mad at me?”

JJ didn’t answer fast enough, but that was an answer in itself.

“I know what you’re thinking, okay?” John B paused in a way that sent a strike of fear through JJ. Had he figured it out somehow? Was he privy to JJ’s most shameful thoughts? “I don’t even know if she likes me back, but I would never hurt her,” John B continued, and air returned to his lungs. Fear switched back to anger. “You know I wouldn’t.”

JJ scoffed, and he couldn’t help the laugh that followed. Not only of relief, but with a sharp mocking for him getting it so wrong.

In addition, JJ’s suspicions being confirmed wasn’t something he was exactly happy about either.

“Okay, whatever you say,” JJ dismissed, trying to shove past him. John B stepped back in front of him, not letting him get away that easily. JJ’s face hardened as he was forced back into the house. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

John B looked taken aback. “So you don’t want to talk about this at all? Clearly it bothers you.”

“Have some sob fest and talk about my feelings with you? No, John B, I don’t,” JJ snapped. “And you and Y/N? Not gonna happen, so quit while you’re ahead.”

“Why?” John B challenged, squaring his shoulders. “Because you said so?”

JJ clenched his fists and his frown deepened.

“Yeah,” he decided. “Because I said so.”

John B seemed like he hadn’t expected pure honesty, and JJ took the opportunity to shove past him and escape out the door.

He kept his eyes forward, opting to go for his motorbike, knowing sticking around would only make this worse.

He heard John B behind him. “Seriously, JJ!?” JJ kept going, putting distance between the two of them. “Why are you making such a big deal about this?”

JJ ignored him, instead doing the safe thing and getting on his bike once he crossed the yard. He didn’t dare look anywhere but forward. He sped off before he could even think about it, all he knew was he couldn’t be here anymore.

Arriving at home wasn’t much better. In fact, it was worse. He threw his bike down in the yard and charged inside, and the way that he slammed the door behind him pissed his dad off. He’d been sleeping on the couch and the noise woke him up.

“With the way you’re storming in here you’d think you owned the place,” his dad berated, getting to his feet.

His dad got one strike to his cheek before JJ wised up and retreated. His father didn’t chase after him, behaving as if JJ was just a pest he had to swat away from his presence.

The pain in his cheek stung, and so did the tears in his eyes.

At that moment, JJ wished you were here. You’d cup his face and make sure he was okay. He’d pretend he didn’t need it, but you’d hug him anyway and tell him he didn’t deserve what happened, and that you were sorry, even though it wasn’t your fault.

Longing brought him to your room. With the way JJ took off, he guessed he probably wouldn’t be seeing you for a while. You’d stay at the Chateau and talk about it with the others. He felt awful for leaving you behind, but if he stayed for a second longer things would’ve gotten worse.

So here he was, making himself at home in your room. He didn’t bother to turn the light on, JJ simply sat down on the edge of your bed, thinking to himself.

He wondered what you were thinking about him leaving. He hoped you wouldn’t assume he was mad at you, although he wasn’t even sure what he wanted you to think. Maybe John B would tell you, and things would be awkward when you got back—if you came back tonight.

The thought of you spending the night alone with John B made JJ want to jump back on his bike, but he’d already screwed up a lot tonight.

JJ hated the way things were happening. It’s not like he wanted to be angry or even fighting with one of his best friends. John B didn’t know why what he was doing was so wrong, but JJ hoped his friend would still heed his warning and back off of you.

It was a waking nightmare, imagining you and John B as a happy couple, unknowingly rubbing in his face what he wanted with you but couldn’t have.

He reminded himself the two of you weren’t related, but it didn’t change how his anxiety told him his friends would look at him, or worse, what you’d think of him. JJ feared that you’d feel betrayed, that you’d judge him as if he presented himself as one thing while having an ulterior motive. What if he lost your trust? What if you could only ever see him as a brother?

It wasn’t his plan, it really wasn’t. He wasn’t planning on falling for you, it just happened and now he couldn’t stop it.

His entire body felt heavy, like all the thoughts piling up in his head were weighing the rest of him down.

What would you think of him?

JJ’s head hit your pillow and he inhaled deeply. Your scent still lingered, and it soothed the stinging in his cheek when it made contact with the cool fabric.

He shifted around until he got comfortable, his feet hanging off the bed because he knew you’d say something if he got his boots on the bed. He should’ve kicked them off, but he didn’t have the energy to.

Sleep never came, so JJ just laid still in the quiet, heart thumping against his ribcage with his chest pressed to the mattress, tracing his finger along the area within reach, pondering what the hell to say, or what he should’ve said, or not said at all.

Pope was pretty smart, maybe he’d have some good ideas about how to build a time machine. But even that wouldn’t solve all his problems. JJ would still be desperately in love with you and had not a clue what to do about it. He doubted Pope or anyone could help him with that.

He was long past fixing, this was just another item to add to the running list of screwed up things about JJ Maybank.

The sound of your bedroom door opening came a while later, but still sooner than he’d expected. Maybe an hour? Or less? JJ figured you would’ve hung out with the others later into the night.

He could feel your eyes on him, even if the dark didn’t allow him to see you all that clearly. JJ only shifted his gaze to your figure in the doorway, remaining still.

Then you went for your bedside lamp and clicked it on. Light filled the room and even if he was going to pretend he was asleep, that was no longer an option. You caught his eyes open.

“That really wasn’t cool,” you started. “Fighting with John B then storming off like that.”

JJ didn’t know how to respond to that. He glanced up at you still, looking over your form. He could tell you were upset, that much was for sure.

It still came as a surprise when you ripped the pillow out from under his head.

This wasn’t going to go away, apparently. Maybe he should’ve just put aside his instincts to seek out comfort from you and gone to his own room.

JJ sat up, full of regret. “Thanks, I’ll remember that next time.”

He saw the moment you noticed the new injury to his cheek. Your face shifted and he swallowed, jaw tightening.

“Don’t. It’s fine.”

You watched him for a moment, just as stubborn as he was. He wanted your comfort, not pity. You were frustrated with him, he’d fall apart if you still showed him kindness, maybe even held his face in your delicate hands. It was tempting, but every time you held him, his secrets threatened to spill out. It took everything he had to keep it in, but it was a losing battle.

“There’s not gonna be a next time, you need to fix this,” you stated firmly instead of trying to soothe him.

JJ scoffed, shaking his head. Couldn’t you just be on his side?

“Funny how you seem to think you’re the boss of me,” he grumbled, not wanting to talk about this with you. If he wanted this to stop, he had to get mean, and he’d never done that with you. But he felt as if he were on the precipice of something. “Why does it matter anyway? Can you just stay out of it?”

JJ recognized the defiant look of your face as you said, “Well, if you weren’t all weird and hadn’t ditched me, maybe I wouldn’t be involved.”

Yeah, he deserved that. God, why was he such a mess? His gaze fell to the ground, unable to meet your eyes.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, and he meant it, too. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

He heard you sigh. “It’s fine, I got a ride with Kie.” Your voice held less annoyance than it had before. It was replaced by curiosity as you tried to decipher what went down. “Did you and John B fight about me?”

JJ tried to settle the panic that threatened to arise and he looked up.

He had to make the words come out as he got to his feet. “Is that what he said?”

JJ had to know.

“Not in those exact words, but he told me he liked me and that you weren’t happy about it.”

JJ tried to control the emotion on his face. He didn’t know what to say to that. He was trying to come up with the correct thing to say, to fix this without having to explain himself. He didn’t want you to be mad, but he needed you to stop asking questions before he slipped up and gave you an answer he could never come back from.

Instead of something thoughtful, or something clever, what came out was, “Don’t worry about it,” in a tone that made him wince internally.

You looked hurt, and then mad. JJ supposed he had earned that but it didn’t make it any better.

“How about you don’t worry about it? If I like him or not, it’s my choice,” you spat. “Not yours.” You poked him accusingly in the chest.

The fire in your eyes made JJ weak. He considered himself to be strong willed but if he thought you wouldn’t be mortified he’d drop to his knees and beg you to forgive him.

His mind went blank as he tried to gather what to say, but apparently he was going 0 out of 2 for proper responses.

“You can’t,” he rushed out, his true feelings getting the better of him.

He cursed internally.

The frown on your face didn’t come as a surprise as you repeated, “Can’t? Okay, JJ.”

It was 0 out of 3 now.

He could hear the mocking in your tone and something about that got to him. Were you actually considering getting with John B? Would you really do that to him? You’d never shown interest in John B before but now all the sudden you’d pick him over JJ?

“I’m serious,” JJ insisted, digging himself in deeper. “You just can’t,” he continued, voice wavering. He screwed up, he knew it.

You looked… confused, maybe?

“Why?”

JJ needed this conversation to be over before he fucked up even worse. He needed to stop talking but some stupid part of his mind wouldn't let him just shut his mouth.

“Can you just drop it?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, running a stressed hand through his hair. His hand paused, maybe if he applied enough pressure to his brain it would start working how he wanted it to.

“No, not when you made it a thing,” you replied sternly. “Just tell me what is going on.”

JJ’s scalp stung as his hand tightened. He wanted to—he really did. His eyes flicked to the doorway behind you, wanting to make a break for it.

“Can you not ask me that?” He let his hand fall to the side, trying to not actually hurt himself. Besides, you’d already accomplished that by laughing in his face. He felt his expression fall further and he decided to just end this now, “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”

You blocked him when he tried to walk out. If he wanted to, JJ could’ve shoved you out of the way and continued on. Maybe he should’ve. But when you looked up at him, forcing him to meet your gaze, he was stuck in place.

It didn’t matter how irritated with him you looked, JJ couldn’t help but admire you. His eyes fell to your lips, and he pressed his own together subtly, scolding himself for the urge to kiss you.

What if he did? What if he just went for it? At least he would know if he had a chance or not, or maybe you’d at least feel bad and not date John B. Maybe in this case he did want your pity.

Or you would be repulsed by him and he’d ruin one of the only good things he had.

“Can you just answer the question?” You watched him so intensely JJ thought he would crumble beneath your gaze. “You’re not a coward, JJ.” That got under his skin, rarely were you harsh with him. “You always speak your mind—so do it.”

Do it.

The words repeated in his mind over and over. Rationality told him that you didn’t mean it in the way he so badly wanted to interpret it, but impulse raced through his veins. His body began to move, despite the way his mind screamed at him to stop.

He didn't say anything.

It was incredibly foolish, but JJ gave in and did exactly what he wanted.

He kissed you.

The moment his lips pressed to yours, it was like it all clicked into place. His eyes fluttered shut but everything seemed more clear. His hands rose to lightly cup your face, needing to touch you.

JJ swore he wasn’t imagining it when you kissed him back. It was subtle, the way you allowed your lips to meld with his. JJ jumped at the opportunity, moving a hand to the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss.

Then, you parted from him with a gasp. JJ’s eyes snapped open and his heart dropped.

Oh fuck. What did he just do?

You looked like a deer in headlights. Which was funny, because JJ was the one who felt like he’d just been run over.

He opened his mouth, then shut it. He swallowed, scanning your face, waiting for the anger or betrayal to morph your features.

Thing was, neither did.

“Your face…” you said suddenly, softly. JJ furrowed his brows, not sure if he heard you right. Then you reached for him, fingers hovering over the new bruise he had forced you to ignore before. “You never said before—are you okay? Actually okay?”

JJ grabbed your hand and held it in his. He fought the urge to press it to his chest and pull you close, but instead held it between the two of you.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, but he wasn’t. He really, really wasn’t.

You nodded slowly, eyes turning to the ground as you stepped back and away from him. Your hand flinched up as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand.

That felt like a punch to the gut if JJ was being honest.

“I need to get some sleep,” you started, mind sounding distant. “So can you…”

“I’ll go,” JJ said in nearly a whisper. His feet felt like weights as he went for the door. You made no attempt to stop him this time. I’m sorry, he thought, but said, “Goodnight,” in a mumble instead.

He pulled your door shut behind him, only to collapse back against it. JJ buried his face into his palms then dragged his hands up through his hair.

He was such an idiot. Why the fuck did he do that? Out of everything he could’ve done, JJ just had to go and kiss you.

The full reality still hadn’t set in and he was already an anxious mess. He was on a precipice, alright. Only, he didn’t step over the edge of that cliff, he jumped. Without a parachute.

JJ locked himself in his room and only had the energy to kick off his shoes and strip down to his boxers before hiding beneath his covers, cursing himself the entire time. He ruined everything. After all this time trying to avoid his feelings for you, trying to make sure no one else found out, he went and blew everything up himself.

Classic JJ move.

Had interest shown in a taglist for this series so I’m starting one! If you’d like to be added just reply or send an ask 🫶

The blue taglist: @empath-bunny

[deansapplepie]

Who’s the one staring now?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Hovarth!Reader

Warnings: mention of adoption, mentions of parents death, first little fight of our staring couple. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

A/N: third part to my series of shorts The Staring Contest, continuation to Watcha lookin at? and Looking good, Dixon!

You were bored. Pretty and deeply bored, so when you heard the younger Dixon was going to hunt without his brother, you thought… why not going with him? You asked him and he tried to find ways of not taking you with him without saying ‘no’.

“Do ya have a weapon besides that shitty knife?” You didn’t, but in a minute you got a riffle with your father and he ran out of excuses, or maybe he just wanted you to go and see how it went.

And that’s the reason why you were now following him on the woods, eyes on his broad shoulders, shamelessly staring every time his arms flexed and contracted to put a new arrow on his crossbow. “Did ya come to hunt or to stare at me?” Even if he couldn’t see, he could feel the weight of your eyes on him. Don’t get him wrong, he liked this staring game between both of you, but hunting was basically his job and it annoyed him not having it done seriously and efficiently.

“Can’t I do both?” You answered trying your luck.

“You can, if ya were actually hunting something. Do you even know how to use that thing?” He stopped and pointed out your riffle.

“Think my dad would have lent me if I didn’t?” You answered challenging.

“I have no idea what yer dad would have done or not, sunshine. What I know is we’re here to hunt and that’s what we’re doing, if yer not taking it seriously you’d better go back.” His eyes burned on you and somehow you knew this time you had really pissed him.

“Who’s the one staring now?” Even your guts telling you to stop you just kept going and that’s it, you managed successfully to reach his boiling point.

“Everything is a joke to ya, isn’t it? Not everyone was born with a silver spoon on their mouth and in case you didn’t notice the world went to shit and there’s people depending on what we hunt to survive.” Here he was jumping to assumptions.

“Wow, you really made a research on me. Even in the middle of the apocalypse, I’m impressed. Can you please share where this silver spoon is? I wouldn’t know cause I never met my biological parents.” Here he was was taken aback, you were adopted. “Even if… if my father had money and was rich, do you think we would be hiding in a quarry?”

“I… ok, I’m feeling like an asshole now.” He confessed unable to take his eyes from you as it has always been since he landed them on you.

“You should, cause you were one. Did your mom never taught you to not judge a book by its cover?” And here there were you stepping on unknown lands and risking your neck.

“No, she died when I was 8.” He simply answered letting you without a single word to say back to him. “Who’s the asshole now?

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @vaniniweenie @cupidelocke @avabh12 @whore4romance @dixondystopia @dixons-sunshine @bigbaldheadname @negansbestie

The Staring Contest Taglist: @diffidentphantom

Mdni banner by @anitalenia

[fictionalmenxyn]

𖢻ꔘ𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲ꔘ𖢻

Paring: dealer!rafe x dealer!reader (readers nickname is reaper also family last name is Maddens)

Warnings: language, suggestive and teasing

ꔘ𖢻𖢻𖢻ꔘ

Rafe is a big name in the dealing work in Outer Banks. One of the top and best dealers in obx. Many went to him for supply. Many regular customers and many new deals at parties.

But there was also another person, maybe even more of a name to themselves than him. They go by the name of Reaper, nobody outside of the drug world knows who it is. People who know say that the person is intimidating and not a person to mess with. Rage never met this ‘Reaper’ he doesn’t know why or how. But he’s never met them… not that he knows of…

So he was at the country club. He sat around his family and the Maddens. Ward and Travis (your dad) grew up together. So you and Rafe were good friends, deep down you both wanted something more but neither of you had the guts to confess.

He admired the way you wore your black silk dress tonight. The way your tinted lip gloss went with the colour of your skin. The way only mascara and lip gloss were the only make up you wore. You were that gorgeous, he couldn’t take his eye off you.

You know Rafe was a drug dealer. You were annoyed or upset. In fact you found it fitting and attractive. To say the least.

You occasionally glanced over to the restrooms of the country club. Every so often going over and returning. Many though you were just using the restroom. Rage thought otherwise. The way you’d look under the table, making it out you were on your phone. While you were actually counting cash.

He knew it too well, having doing it many times himself. So he wanted to see if it was actually true.

The next time you excused yourself from the table. He too, excused himself. You went in and two other guys walked in. It was the disabled bathroom you were using. It was the furthest from the main room and no one ever used it.

After you quick deal, you waited for a moment to let the guys have a heads up. Making out you weren’t with them. Then you opened the door. You looked up to see Rafe.

His infamous smirk on his face “what’re you up to, sweetheart?” You put the cash in your handbag “bathroom break.” “Bullshit, baby.” You rolled your eyes “wouldn’t you like t’a know…”

He joked “well, I know you ain’t fuckin’ those two guys at once. So what was it?? A deal??” A subtly grin (which he picked up) formed on your face. “C’mon, sweetheart, I know what you’re up to, I’ve done it many times myself…”

You grabbed a hold of his arm and pulled him into the bathroom, locking it behind him. You turned to look up at him. “Listen, this stays between you and I, alright?” “Your words safe with me.” You nod.

He asked “so? How long you been doin’ this?? Never heard of you doing it before.” You chuckled “that’s because I never give my name out…” Rafe raised an eyebrow “then what’s this ‘code name’ of yours then?” You smirked “Reaper.”

Rafe’s jaw dropped “no fucking way….” You nodded “bet that one caught ya off guard…” he smirked “shit, didn’t know it was you, baby…” you grinned “good, that’s the whole point.”

He grinned “shit, that’s actually fuckin’ hot…” you nodded and remarked “thank you.” He grinned “you know, we might have to partner up one day…” you smirked a little “oh yeah? Why? Cause you like me? Or cause you’ve heard I’m one of the best?”

He smirked “both.”

You walked up to him, dragging your finger up his shirt till it got to the collar of it. He smirked as he moved his hands to your hips. Squeezing them as he tugged you closer, he leaned down and whispered “you look so good tonight, wanna do so many things t’you…” you grinned. “Oh yeah?” He nodded. “Been wanin’ to for ages…hated seein’ ya with other guys”

You looked to him “maybe we can change that..” you both gave each other a Quick Look before colliding lips. The way your mouths moved together. It was meant to be. Your lip gloss smudged against his lips. His hands printing into your hips.

You felt his hands tuck under your ass, lifting you up into the sink. He groaned into your lips. You smirked. Moving your knee between his legs. He groans “fuck… you’re playin’ with fire, baby…” you smiled “good thing I like the heat.” You swear he’d melted there and then. He’s already fallen for you. But now… he’s gone… so far gone.

His hips move against your knee, you start to kiss his neck. His hands were about to move to the straps of your dress. When you moved your knee away, using your heel and pushing him back a little. He groaned at the loss of contact. “The fuck do you think you’re doin’??”

You smiled as you hopped down from the sink. “I’d rather have you someplace else, don’t want our first time in a janky bathroom at the country club…”

He was gobsmacked, fuck, was he in love with you. He already was. Probably since you were both sixteen.

But my god, the power you just had over him. Made him feel different, a good different.

You walked over to the door “food will start to be served soon… clean yourself up. And maybe I’ll ask my parents if I can stay the night at your place?” He smirked and nodded. “No need to ask, baby. They’ll know you’re coming over my place.” “And let me tell you, I ain’t gonna let you sleep tonight…”

“Good, see you back at the table, Rafey”

“See ya, Reaper” he playfully winks at you. You then leave the restroom. Leaving him needy and excited for tonight. God he never knew you could get more attractive. And being his possible business partner… made him feral…

ꔘ𖢻𖢻𖢻ꔘ

[allaboutmaybanxx]

Love. ps y/n

cowgirl!reader x jjmaybank

You had grew up in Southern Texas and learned a lot from your dad. Every day was great and every month your family had a festival with dancing, singing and horse riding lessons. It was fun every month but this month was different, You were drinking root beer and selling tickets so everyone can get in and there were only 5 left and there was this boy “hey, just one ticket please?” you look up from your drink and sat it down “of course” you say as you sign the ticket and grabbed a wristband “can i see your wrist please?” he gives you his wrist as you put it on his arm he smiles “have a good time, and if you need anything you can ask me” he smiles “thanks” after all the tickets got sold you were just watching after had got done cowboy dancing you were getting bored fast and you didn’t know why. “Hey?” you look at the same boy from earlier “oh hey!, did you need something?” you asked with a smile “no no no i’m fine but i was wondering what’s you name?” you look at him and take your hat off “my name is Y/N, what about you?” he smiles and scratches that back of his head and grins “JJ…JJ Maybank” you smile “so…jj are you having a good time at the festival?” you start walking towards the barns and of course he follows behind “yeah it’s pretty cool in Texas where they have these festival and shit” you look at him “really?, don’t other countries or cities do that?” you look at him with confusion, he chuckles “no, at least not mine and i live in Outer Banks but they only have festivals for those bitch ass kooks” your slightly widened at his words “oh, is kook a groups of people or a person or-“ he cut off real fast “ their like rich ass kids that get whatever they want, like stuck up little brats” you guys finally made it to the barn, you open the barn door “you know how to ride a horse?” you as you sat down on a chair snide the barn, he gets out of his thoughts “no…do you?” you nod and smile “of course, ever since i was 5” his eyes widened “five! that’s way to young, you have to shitting me right now?” you giggle “no i’m serious” he takes his hat off and sits next to you and looks at you for a while “your pretty..” and that’s when your heart started beating every five seconds and you could feel your cheeks turning red and and this warmth in your stomach. “thank you…” he smiles softly “i’m in Texas for a few days, you know maybe we should hang out” you nod “mhm…” and that’s when it all started You and JJ hanging out everyday until it was time for him to leave and it was like everyday you had someone other than your dad to talk to about your feelings and about your problems.

Today, JJ was meeting your parents and brothers but before that happened you and him went to go hang out at a park and you were making bracelets for him, “so have you ever been anywhere else but Texas?” you look at him “no… I love it here” he looks at you and clicks his tongue and stands up. You look at him “where are you going?” you follow him “you see the sunrise?” you nod at his words “yes, what about them” he takes a deep breath and speaks again “wouldn’t it be a good idea to have your first kiss here?” you look at him and you really looked at him to see if he was joking “your dead serious or your just joking around” he smile and takes your hand “i’m serious, i mean y/n your the most prettiest, creative, and amazing girl i’ve ever met and you make me feel loved and that i can trust you and i wanna make you feel all those things too” your heart warms at his words and your started to beating again but faster than last time “then, yeah you can take my first kiss” that’s all he needed was confirm and he was ready, his lips met yours and it was slow and passionate, his hand met your waist and the other to the back of your head, he pulled away with a grin and you bite your lip, “…woah… that’s was…very passionate” you say still stunned, he smiles and looks down, and looks back up at her and grabs something out his pocket “you know y/n for the 6 days i’ve spent with you, it was like the most important moments of my life and i want to keep them” he pulls out a ring and looks at her “she freezes in her tracks. you were kinda shocked but happy and jj was the most important moment in your life, he was handsome, funny, and a gentleman “is….that a no…” you snapped back to reality “yes!…yes please…” he looked at you and smiles, he picked you up as you giggled “jj put me down!” he puts you down and grabs the ring and puts it on your left index finger “i’m officially your girlfriend…” he looks at you and kisses you again “Mmm” you hum in kiss. And that’s the day when you fell in Love. ps y/n

[castiwls]

january 24th - s.w

Pairing; Sam & daughter (oc) kinda

Synopsis; January 24th is a quiet day in the Winchester house

Warnings; angst

Notes; Ok so. I meant to post this a few days back and forgot lmao but basically long story short I was lying in my bed when this idea hit me. It probs makes no sense but it's set post-final. I also listened to Marjorie while I wrote this so take from that what you will.

Masterlist

What died didn't stay dead What died didn't stay dead You're alive, you're alive in my head

The house was quiet. He rolled over and saw the clock flashing 10:15 am. She must have taken the kids to school before going to work he assumed as he closed his eyes again.

Sam loathed this day. Every year it would reach a new year and instead of being happy to bring the new year in it felt like a great weight on his chest. January 24th was the worst day of the year for Sam Winchester.

He lay in bed simply staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t surprised that no one had woken him up. It was common knowledge to anyone around him that he did not function on this day. It was almost like he regressed back to the person he was 20 years ago in that barn.

And damn had it really been 20 years. That realisation only made it hurt more. 2 full decades with his brother.

2 full decades of his life Dean had missed. 

He felt angry. Angry that just when life was looking good for once one last curve ball was thrown and suddenly Sam was doing this alone. He was angry for the life that his brother never got to live. Angry that he never got to meet his niece and nephew. Angry that he never got his own family.

He lay there stewing in his own guilt, anger, and grief before the sound of the bedroom door opening caught his attention. 

Sam turned his head to see a figure peeking out from behind the door. He felt a small smile grace his lips. “Shouldn’t you be at school?” He winced slightly at how raspy his voice sounded.

The door slowly opened more and in stepped his youngest Hailey. She was only 14 (recently 14) yet every day more and more she reminded him of his brother. Her own brother Dean didn’t resemble his uncle much and in a way Sam was grateful. Sometimes around this time of year saying his name could be too much, he didn’t know what he would do if his son also shared his brother's looks.

“Told mum I was sick. Didn’t wanna leave you alone.” She said quietly as she walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. Sam sat up and sent her a weak smile. He simply watched her for a moment. She didn’t look much like either of her parents. She didn’t have Sam’s brown eyes or her mother's nose and hair. No Hailey Winchester had Dean green eyes, she’d had his blonde hair which had naturally darkened to a light brown as she had aged. She had his nose and most hauntingly his smile.

Sam tried to push the comparisons away. He knew it wouldn’t do him any good. He lifted the cover beckoning her to get into the bed. She grinned and accepted his invitation.

Sam felt his heartbeat pick up at her grin. Yet again all he saw was his brother.

Hailey moved closer to her dad allowing him to wrap an arm around her. “I would ask if you're ok but it seems like a stupid question.” She joked trying to soften his mood.

Sam chuckled before nodding. He pressed a kiss to her head before sitting back. Hailey was quiet for a long moment but Sam could tell she was thinking about something.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“Do you think he would have liked me? And Dean?” 

Sam stiffened slightly at her question. He thought for a moment before smiling. “He would have adored you both. Would have spoiled you both too.” Sam smiled softly.

She smiled up at him with that damn smile. She settled back down into his embrace. “I wish I could have met him.” She said quietly.

Sam looked down at her and ran a hand through her hair. He wanted nothing more than for Dean to meet his children. Hell, when he’d first found out he was gonna be a dad the first thing he had done was go to call his brother. Then he remembered and put the phone down with a heavy heart.

He was quiet for a moment. He’d never really told Hailey much about her uncle. Sure he’d told Dean but he was older and he didn’t wanna freak Hailey out. Taking a deep breath Sam turned to his daughter. “I never told you about what happened when I left Stanford did it?”

He knew he would have to tell her the truth sooner or later. Tell her about the life he had lived before she’d been born. He glanced over to the clock. They had a good few hours before anyone would be home.

I know better But I still feel you all around I know better But you're still around

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 22

PREVIOUS

Y’know how sometimes you have something that you need to do or something that you know is going to happen but you just keep…putting it off? Like you know at some point it is going to happen but you put it off over and over and over and over again? You’re getting increasingly anxious every time you put it off because you know it has to get done but you also know that the longer you wait the worse it is going to get. Finally, FINALLY, the anxiety is just a little too much and you end up having to deal with it.

You finally deal with it and the whole ordeal takes maybe five minutes tops and it was in no way shape or form worth the level of anxiety that you put yourself through. Like you worried about this for a good and long while and it wasn’t even that bad?

That is currently how FF feels about being stabbed by Andrew Minyard.

This is what he was so worried about that he had lost sleep, had nightmares, had lost weight, and had exacerbated his stress ulcers over.

Getting stabbed wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he had thought it was going to be. Maybe it was the fact that it was just a single stab wound instead of the Psycho levels that he had been imagining (Wow, showers were going to be so much less stressful now that he didn’t have to confirm Andrew Minyard’s location before triple checking the lock). Maybe it was the fact that he is PUMPED full of adrenaline from his fights against Jackson and Romero but the stab wound didn’t even really hurt at the moment.

This isn’t even the worse thing that had happened to him this year!

That honor still goes to the joint winners of when his Step Family and mother found out that he had a full-ride to Palmetto and when he had tripped up the same step on the stairs at school three times in a row as people watched and laughed.

(Maybe also the solitary congratulations from his Grandma in regards to his graduation but FF doesn’t let himself think about that, won’t think about it.)

He wouldn’t necessarily call being in a state of ‘stabbed’ a pleasant time but Andrew was being so NICE about it.

“Stop trying to sit up you fucking idiot!” Andrew shouts at him.

Well….Andrew’s version of nice.

(This is the same version of nice that he had misunderstood for months at this point. Maybe FF is just enough in shock from the stab wound in his stomach that he’s starting to grasp the basics in the difficult language of Andrew Minyard’s niceness.)

Andrew had gotten off the phone with 911 and then started pulling off his own jacket before draping it over FF’s upper body, wedging his phone between his shoulder and his ear, and then Andrew started to apply pressure to his stomach wound.

Ow.

That is not a great feeling. This stabbing may eke out past the great triple trip of March 2010.

“No, take back your jacket. You’ll get cold if you don’t have it on.” FF argues because his own jacket is barely doing the job. Maybe it’s the cold pavement of the alley, maybe it’s the blood loss, or maybe it’s the cooling sweat he’d worked up but he is shivering pretty badly.

A thought occurs to him as he feels the weird wet stickiness of his own blood sticking to Nicky’s shirt. “Can you help me get my jacket off?” He asks looking pleadingly at Andrew, “It’s my dad’s. I don’t wanna mess it up with my blood.” He clarifies when Andrew looks at him like he’s a lunatic.

Except his second call must connect right then because Andrew’s answer is non-sensical to what FF had asked, “Neil, let Roland know the police and ambulances are en route.” There’s a brief pause and the pressure against his stomach increases as a muscle in Andrew’s jaw jumps. “Smith got stabbed.” He says and he looks angry, angrier than FF had ever seen Andrew when he’s talking to Captain Neil. There is another pause, more than likely Neil saying something or asking a question, “No, it wasn’t them.” Andrew grits out and the pressure on FF’s stomach hurts, “Just get out here, I need help with smith and making sure these two assholes don’t go anywhere before the police come and grab them.” He says before he pulls one hand away from Smith’s stomach (wow he really is bleeding isn’t he?) to hang up the phone.

Andrew’s gaze turns back to him fully, “You’re not moving an inch Smith, your jacket can be cleaned.” He hisses. “Now stay still and don’t fall asleep.” He orders.

Andrew seems stressed so FF complies. He can’t help but notice how Andrew’s hands seem to be shaking as the press down on his stomach. He kind of wishes he had a pillow or something for his head because he’s starting to feel a little dizzy. Andrew’s jacket would be safer from his blood if it was a pillow instead of a blanket. Still, FF would sooner die than spit on any of Andrew’s current efforts to make him more comfortable.

He looks at the knife sticking out of his stomach. Well, he might die regardless of whether or not he spits on Andrew’s efforts.

He needs to take his mind off this.

“Should we take it out and pretend the Dundee knife stabbed me instead??” FF asks letting his mind go to the first thought in his head so that he could be distracted from his own mortality. “I think it’s still under the dumpster over there.” He moves to point one of his hands towards where the knife had remained throughout this entire ordeal.

Andrew’s knee pinned his arm before he could move it, “Stop moving Smith.” Andrew reminded him before moving his knee. “We have to leave the knife in. You’ll bleed to death otherwise.” Andrew reminds.

“I guess that’s true, so do we just say that Romero got a handle on your knife and stabbed me?” He asks fighting his own shivers since he’s a little worried that any shaking on his part would just make the stab wound worse.

“I stabbed you Smith.” Andrew says looking at him with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, I know,” FF agrees, “but we’re not going to say THAT to the cops.” He says and shock really is one HELL of a drug because he thinks he might have actually given Andrew Minyard an incredulous look with his atrophied face muscles. It’s either Shock or the knowledge that even if he irritates Andrew, what’s Andrew going to do about it?

STAB HIM?

“You’re going to lie to the cops?” Andrew asks, “I STABBED you Smith.” Andrew repeats.

“Yeah, I know!” FF repeats back, “You stabbed me on ACCIDENT.” FF makes sure to use the same intonation that Andrew had used to emphasize the word Stabbed. “Jackson wanted to stab me on PURPOSE. You saw that knife Andrew.” He tries to gesture towards the knife again but again Andrew’s knee pinned his hand.

He could use his other one but the reminder to stay still is enough.

“I still stabbed you.” Andrew says removing his knee again when it’s clear that FF wasn’t going to try and gesture again.

“Well, if I was going to get stabbed by anyone, I guess I’m glad my first time was with you.” Andrew let’s out a bark of a laugh that sounds more like it was punched out of him than anything, “Honestly, I don’t think Jackson would have given me his jacket afterwards or try and help me keep my blood in my body.” He says and it feels like a victory (not a both hands in the air victory cry level victory but it was close) when Andrew’s face settled into one of faint amusement.

“Probably not.” Andrew agreed, “He doesn’t seem big on Aftercare.” He says.

FF doesn’t know what that means but nods like he does, “So, Romero got a hold of your knife during our tussle and he’s the one who stabbed me. Okay? That’s the story I’m going to stick with no matter who asks me.” He looks Andrew in the eye.

“Alright Smith,” one of Andrew’s hands leaves his stomach and clasps around his shoulder and FF can’t help but notice how neither of Andrew’s hands are shaking anymore. “We can lie to the police.” He squeezes FF’s shoulder.

“Nice.” He says and lets his head fall back onto the concrete. He hears a siren in the distance and hopes it’s coming for him.

They sit in silence for maybe 30 seconds before the door slams open and only Andrew’s hands on his stomach and shoulder keep him from shooting straight up in a panic. Captain Neil seemed to take in the scene at lightning speed but it was Andrew who spoke first, “You left Aaron and Nicky with Roland?” He asks.

“Yeah I did,” Captain Neil confirms and FF can see the moment that his eyes land on the knife handle jutting out of FF’s stomach, “Andrew, what are we going to tell the police?” Captain Neil asks and FF could already see Neil crafting a lie to cover Andrew. That’s one of the things that FF likes about Captain Neil and Andrew’s relationship. He thinks it’s nice that both of them have someone who no matter the circumstances would be there with a shovel to help bury a body. He even thought it was nice when he thought it’d be his body!

“The second guy stabbed me.” The lie comes out smoothly which is good because he is planning on committing to it and Captain Neil blinks and looks at him, “He got hold of Andrew’s knife during the tussle.” He adds.

Captain Neil looks to Andrew, “You said it wasn’t-“

“I guess Smith can lie to a liar.” Andrew interrupts.

Captain Neil’s eyes widen before a wicked grin spread across his face that made FF just a little uncomfortable but only because Andrew’s grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened and his nostrils flared the way they did before the two usually started speaking in Russian.

He can handle being stabbed, he cannot handle being in shock and pretending that he doesn’t know what the two of them are saying to one another.

“Can you tell Nicky I’m sorry I got blood on his clothes?” He asks and both Captain Neil and Andrew’s gaze snap away from eye-fucking each other. He looks down and the clothes are black and they haven’t moved the knife so the wound is plugged still but yeah there’s definitely blood seeping into the shirt, not to mention the hole. “Could you tell him I’m sorry about that?” He asks.

“You are going to tell him yourself Smith.” Andrew hisses, “You are going to be fine. Do you understand me?” He asks before turning to Neil, “Can you bunch your jacket under his legs, it’s better to keep them higher than his head and heart?” He asks.

Aw.

Andrew is just so nice.

He can’t BELIEVE he thought Andrew wanted to hunt him for sport.

He’d apologize for thinking that but he thinks it’d be better to just let that particular misunderstanding go unmentioned.

Captain Neil bunches his jacket up and puts it under FF’s legs before he goes over to check on Romero and Jackson. In the corner of his eye he sees Captain Neil pause at the sight of Romero before moving over to Jackson.

“Why is he in these?!” Neil asks baffled.

“It’s a weird sex alley Captain Neil! I don’t know WHAT to tell you!” Yeah he’s definitely going into shock. The sirens are getting closer though so he’ll probably be okay.

***

The cops all have a bit of a laugh about Jackson’s cuffs until Neil tells them exactly who they are taking into custody. Neil could admit that he’s a little irritated with Andrew that at no point did the man clarify that the people who FF and Andrew were dealing with were Romero and Jackson.

Those are his father’s goons.

“They were here for me.” Neil says to the police officer and Andrew’s hand tightens in his, “They tried to take Smith because he’s my friend.”

They had decided on their story before the cops came. FF had no idea who any of these people were and was just defending himself. He’d gone out to catch his breath in the alley when Jackson had shown up. Neil had asked how in the world FF had handled Jackson on his own but FF must have been getting kind of loopy from blood loss because all he said was, “He told me to sing so I did.”

Neil can find out the full story later.

The important part is.

“Jackson went after Smith but Smith won the fight.” Neil says looking at where the cops are trying to decide how to get the fuzzy pink handcuffs off of Jackson to get him in the far more secure police issued handcuffs.

“Your friend said that you and he took out Romero together. That Romero is the one who stabbed him with your knife.” He says.

“Yes.” Andrew answers simply and Neil squeezes his hand as a reminder, “I went out to grab a smoke and Romero followed after me. Romero got hold of one of my knives in the struggle and stabbed Smith.” Andrew says with his usual deadpan affect.

“Yeah that’s what your friend Smith was saying too.” The officer says. “Well, I’m sure the FBI will want to talk to you all further but for now it’s a pretty clear cut case of self defense and no one but your friend has any serious injuries.” The officer pats Neil on the shoulder and Neil manages not to shirk away from the touch. The officer retracts his hand, “You guys are free to go tonight.” He says and turns back towards the car where a dazed Romero is in the back seat.

“Where did they take Smith?” Andrew asks since they’d been shepherded away from Smith the moment the ambulance had come. They hadn’t been able to ask which hospital Smith was going to be taken to so they could go and get updates.

“Lexington.” The cop answers, “Go on and see your friend. He seemed pretty loopy he kept talking about some beauty contest thing when he was getting loaded into the ambulance. I’m sure he’ll be a riot on painkillers.” The cop goes for a joke but it twists something in Neil’s stomach to think of FF so out of it that he’s talking nonsensically.

He feels Andrew’s hand stiffen in his and knows he’s not alone.

“Thanks.” Neil says before they head towards the front of the club. The club had been emptied out when the cops had come so Roland was babysitting Aaron and Nicky for them while they talked to the cops and FF was loaded out to the hospital.

In a way it’s almost a blessing that Nicky and Aaron are both so blasted that they aren’t comprehending any of what’s going on. They’ll have to drop them off back at the house before they go to the hospital. They’ll beat Wymack there easily even after the interrogation and drop off.

FF had asked them to call Wymack to let him know what was going on “I gave him the rights to make health care decisions for me if I’m incapacitated.” FF had said so Neil texts Wymack the hospital and the address after Andrew rattles it off for him.

“I don’t like that you hid it from me.” Neil says in the car.

“They wanted to kill you.” Andrew won’t apologize.

They still hold hands on the drive back to the Columbia house.

Andrew takes care of getting Aaron into bed while Neil helps Nicky.

Nicky who looks at Neil with a loopy smile and Neil hurts knowing that tomorrow when Nicky finds out about tonight and how he was too blasted to do anything to help FF.

Andrew and Neil reconvene in the Maserati and make their way to the hospital before either of them realize the issue.

“What is the name of the patient you’re looking for an update on?” The receptionist asks.

Both Andrew and Neil freeze.

Fuck.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girls just wanna have fun 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, blackmail, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

Shelby leaves and you deflate. You’re bored. You’re going to be bored forever. Your dad bitches at you until you do the dishes and vacuum but that only makes you more restless. 

As you decide to read on the porch, more a cover for your peeping behaviour, your dad appears with his golf bag and clears his throat. You sit up on the bench and take your feet off the little table. He hates when you do that. 

“Going to play a few rounds. Try not to make a mess.” 

“Yes, sir,” you say dryly. 

“I mean it,” he sniffs. 

“Alright. Jeez. Not like I'm doing much to make a mess.” 

“Oh yeah? Definitely not,” he mutters. “I didn’t find an empty bottle in the recycling...” 

“What?” You bat your lashes innocently. “I swear, it’s not mine.” 

“Sure, whatever. One won’t kill you but I don’t want it in my house,” he points at you. 

“Fine,” you huff. 

He leaves without much fanfare. No see yas, no I love yous, he’s never been that kind of dad. Only the type to point out everything you’ve done wrong.  

You wait for him to drive away as you plot behind your book. You can’t use your own friend to get your way. That made you feel too rotten. The answer is obvious but not one you relish. There is someone you can use but you don’t know if it’s worth it. 

As you mull over the failure of last night and hide behind the book, the low whir of an engine approaches. A car door brings your gaze above the pages and the very man on your mind appears. For once, it isn’t Bucky. 

Hm. Your mouth slants as you weigh the choice. Sam gets out of the car and bends to check his reflection in the side mirror, taking off his sunglasses as he winks at himself. God, he’s so annoying but he said he could help. Everything you’re doing is exactly wrong. 

You close the book and drop it on the table. You skip down the steps in your crop top and cut-offs and come around the white picket. He stops as he sees you and smirks at your advance. You stop before him, your chest bouncing shamelessly. 

“Well, hello ladies,” he makes no effort to hide his leering. You scoff. 

“Sam,” you say pointedly and fold your arms over your chest. “How?” 

“How what?” He tilts his head as he eyes you, bring up the arm of his glasses to chew on the tip. 

“How can you help me get to Bucky?” You ask. 

“Ha,” he laughs, “you’re really serious about that? You ran away last night.” 

“That was for my friend. She was scared.” 

“I don’t know, you looked pretty freaked out yourself.” 

“I’m not afraid,” you insist. “Maybe you are. Maybe you lied. Talk a big game. I shoulda known. You’re just like all the boys I know--” 

“Now hold up, I’m no boy. This right here, that’s grade A man. American meat,” he declares, “you want Buck, I get it. He’s got the whole angry old man thing the girls drool for. But I want something first.” 

“You’ll get it but how exactly can you help me get what I want?” You barter. 

His cheek dimples and he sucks his teeth, “well, I know my guy. Trust. And I know what he wants.” 

“Which is?” You narrow your eyes. 

“Now, now, I can’t just give away the good right away.” 

“Tell me, please,” you plead as you clutch your hands together.  

He huffs and looks towards the house, “are you sure you wanna go down this road?” 

His doubt stokes your own. Why wouldn’t you? It’s harmless. Just sex, right? It’s what adults do! You’re twenty years old and you don’t want to go back to campus a virgin. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

He chuckles again, “you’re exactly his type. He’s playing hard to get.” 

“Hm?” You perk up, “really?” 

“Yeah, I hate to admit it but he’s into you.” 

“He is?” 

“Calm down, sweetheart, we have a deal. You wanna get to him, you go through me. Which ironically, is what he’s into.” 

“Uh, what?” Your voice crackles. 

“Yeah, he loves to watch.” 

You laugh nervously, “you’re messing with me. I knew it.” 

“I’m not,” he’s more serious than you’ve ever seen him. “One day, when you’re older, more experienced, you’ll realise the freakiest freaks walk around like they have a stick up their ass. Hell, sometimes they do.” 

“So, what does that mean? What do I do?” You lower your voice, shaky as you realise what you’re asking. 

“Well, pretty kitty,” he boops your nose, “you look real good in those shorts, but you got anything sexier?” 

“Um, sure, I have some thongs.” 

“Good start, Lace?” 

“Probably,” you shrug.  

“Right, why don’t you show me? You need an expert.” 

“Really?” 

“You asked for my help. I’m helping.” 

“Ugh, you better not be fucking with me.” 

“Not right but hopefully soon,” he snickers. 

“Whatever, come on.” 

You turn and stomp back up the sidewalk. He follows casually and you peer around. You hope no one sees and tattles to your dad. Maybe you can make something up about a clogged pipe. Doesn’t matter right now. You doubt he even cares. 

Sam pulls the door shut behind him as you reach the stairs. You make a swift ascent and he comes up a few steps back. You enter your room and rush over to the dresser. You sift through and pull out your sexiest pairs. You can hear him tinkering around with your shit. 

“What are you doing?" You snap over your shoulder. 

“Just looking,” he comes up next to you and reaches into the drawer. He pulls out the vibe and rolls it between his fingers, “Mmm, this will be handy too.” 

“So?” You ignore him and spread out several pairs across the wood. “Which ones?” 

“Now, baby, I can’t decide if you don’t try ‘em on. I need the whole effect.” 

You huff. He keeps delaying. And it feels like he’s playing with you. 

“Promise you’re not lying.” 

“I swear,” he shows his palms and backs up. “I’ll close my eyes. The black lace.” 

He sits on the foot of the bed and slaps his hands down on his thighs. His pants are taught across his bulge. Oh god. He closes his eyes and you turn back. You pull of your shorts and switch out your panties for the black lace thong. 

“There? How is it?” You stand before him. 

He opens his eyes and grins, “turn around?” 

You cringe but obey. He lets out a long breath and tuts, “damn, that is a fine ass.” 

“Sounds like a yes,” you face him again, “so, it’ll work?” 

“Oh, you think it’s just the thong? No, baby, no,” he scoffs, “this is how it’s going to go down. I’m gonna tell Bucky I found a real fun girl. It’s been a while, he needs it, and you’re going to be waiting, in just that,” he reaches forward to touch the lace, “and you’re going to let me fuck your mouth, you can fuck mine too. That’ll get him nice and worked up.” 

“What?” You bluster, “you’re fucking with me. Oh my god. I can’t believe--” 

“I’m really not. We share all time. Or used to. Been a while, not gonna lie. Like I said, he is in need.” 

You step back and stare at him. You were prepared for Bucky. Prepared for just one guy at a time, but both. You’re not so sure. You put your hand to your neck and turn as you think. 

“I don’t know... maybe it’s stu--” 

You hear the digital shutter of a lens and face Sam as he holds his phone up. 

“What the fuck? Did you take a picture?” 

“Collateral,” he shrugs as he stands, “can’t have you flaking.” 

“Delete it.” 

“No.” 

“Delete--” you try to snatch his phone and he holds you at arm’s length. 

“Your dad would hate to see this, wouldn’t he?” He taunts. “You want help, you got it. You bring your fine ass and I’ll bring Bucky.”