#john deserves that fucking coffee btw

[jarchivussy]

maybe 🤔 the neighbours 🏠 will want 🙋 to, to help 😁

you 🫵 don't know ❌ how to farm 🚜, do you 🤨😒❓

you think 💭 i would have left ⬅️ my life 🕵️‍♂️ in arkham 🏘️ behind if i didn't have ❌ the slightest 🤏 idea💡how to do ‼️ any of this 👨‍🌾🌽🚜 ⁉️

... 😐😑😐

yes ✅

shut up 😤

[eowynstwin]

Obviously if your asks aren’t open then feel free to disregard this- (love your work btw I just- I cant- 🥰)

Do you think they keep the dog tags *ON* during sex? How do you think they’d wear them during it? Would they have you wear them?

You don’t HAVE to answer for each individual character obviously if you would rather just do it as a whole or just one that’s fine! Whatever works for you 💕

*cracks knuckles* I’ll do ‘em all. (Sorry for the long post, I’ll put it under a readmore when I get home 🙏)

Do the Tags Stay on in Bed?

Ghost wears his tags because, like the mask, they just don't ever come off. He is two people when he is with you--Ghost is the creature that can protect you, that can do the things Simon Riley would have been too weak for when it comes to your safety. But Simon is the man that could have loved you properly. Simon is the man Ghost believes could make you coffee in the morning, could rub your neck at the end of a long day.

It isn't initially why he wears his tags when he fucks you, but it is now--Ghost holds you in an iron grip, looms over you as he thrusts into you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall, and feels the tags with a dead man's name clink against his chest. They remind him that you deserve whatever is left of the man who would have been far better for you than Ghost ever could be.

Soap wears his tags fully out of pride. The SAS is his life, is a massive part of his identity, and while he knows not every mission he's sent on is wholly for the good, he holds onto his conviction to act with integrity and compassion no matter what. The SAS might not always do good, but he will, as much as he can.

He wants you to be proud of him, too--he's really doing it all for you, after all. When those tags hang between you as your legs are wrapped around his waist, as they come to rest on your chest when he leans down to kiss you, he wants you to know that when he wears them he's thinking of you.

Gaz has no preference, but more often than not they stay on because he forgets to take them off. Usually, it's because the moment you're both free with enough time to actually have sex, he isn't going to bother with silly things like getting completely undressed--he wants you, now.

So, they've whacked you in the face a couple times as the two of you have gone at it. It's too funny to get mad at, and Gaz always uses it as an excuse to "make it up to you." Sometimes he'll take them off, too, and put them around your neck instead. "Keep 'em safe for me, eh?" he says with a grin.

Price takes his tags off. Over 20 years of service have left him wanting something that exists apart from violence and bloodshed, and every moment he spends with you is that something. He doesn't want to be the Captain with you, not unless he has to be--putting his tags aside gives him permission to just be John with you.

Besides, they'd get in the way. John does his very, very best to please you, to satisfy you beyond any expectation you may have of him, and sometimes that leaves you needing to bite down on his neck to keep from screaming. You’d probably not prefer to break a tooth on the tags’ chain.

Alejandro also takes his tags off, although it’s less about keeping work and pleasure separate and more about the annoyance they can be. When he is with you, Alejo is focused wholly on you, and does not appreciate distractions of any sort. He doesn’t want to have to fling his tags around to get them out of the way, or let them hang to be caught on an errant foot or wrist.

He does, however, love to see you wear them. It’s totally a possessive thing, but in the best way—Alejo worships the ground you walk on, and seeing his name around your neck inspires the same awe usually reserved for the divine. He thinks you could have anyone you wanted, and is humbled daily that you continue to choose him.

Rudy doesn’t care either way if the tags are on or off, and if the topic ever comes up he leaves that up to you. It’s an attitude that is very in-character—Rudy’s satisfaction comes from ensuring that you are satisfied, no matter what. Rudy’s love language, hands down, is acts of service.

Similarly to Alejo, however, he does enjoy seeing you wear his tags. “They belong to you anyway, mi vida,” he’ll tell you, lining your neck with gentle kisses. “All of me does.” (He has been known, however, to forget where he puts them if they do come off. So it’s probably better if they stay on.)

Bonus: Valeria gave hers to you a long time ago. She asks very frequently to see them, to make sure you keep them with you at all times. She promised herself she would never, ever carry their weight again, but she also can’t quite bear to throw them away, so now they stay with the only person in the world that she trusts.

If you wear them to bed, it will inspire a frenzy in her that will leave you limping the next morning. Those tags are a past version of her, a version she emerged from like a snake shedding its skin. While she is never sure how to feel about that previous self, seeing you take care its vestiges satisfies an ache in Valeria that she will never acknowledge.

Bonus: Graves has mixed feelings about his tags overall, being that he is technically not required to wear them anymore. They don’t mean the same thing to him now that they used to. That doesn’t mean they aren’t always on him, of course—he keeps them tucked into his boots. So you never see them.

If you were to ever find them, bring them into the bedroom? It could go one of two ways. On the one hand, you could end up benefitting short-term from the frustrated agitation those tags inspire, with Graves using your body to relieve an old, invisible hurt you never knew about. He will withdraw from you afterwords, though, too caught up in himself to really connect with. On the other, he could just withdraw immediately, recede from you, and the tension of that encounter will linger for days. It’s best not to involve his tags at all.

[fdrsamericanflagduckfloaty]

Drop the Miku Binder TJ rant bestie

okay so like

i was just thinking about it, and, like, i think it's fucking nuts but also really weird how the hamilton fandom (which i'm in but i swear i'm not an uwu lams turtles shipper please) somehow took this CRUSTY, TERF-BANGED, UGLY, OLD, REDHEADED, RAPIST ASS MOTHERFUCKER,

and turned his ugly ass into this.

like damn what the hell- what- how???? okay like yeah, they're using daveed diggs as a base for this bullshit, which, okay, fine, but YOU DID NOT NEED TO ADD THE INFO. The idea itself is funny but also a bit weird, however im 99% sure Diggs himself wore that shirt. However, all of the extra info??? come on. Where'd the fandom get this istg y'all-

Also, also, they did something similar by making John Laurens (gay blonde dumbass) into an UWU turtles boy. ....why. Bi trash coffee gremlin tumblr over-worked sleep-deprived alexander hamilton. like yeah relatable but. why. small bean big sweater uwu innocent boy blushy short james madison. ...why. bro was stubborn and would pick a fight and was the 'fuck you' type of shy.

I just find it wild the fandom made this and it is the entirety of the fandom into one. There's the good sides, there's the bad, and there's this. Which encompasses the ENTIRE. FUCKING. FANDOM.

The fandom has its headcanons, it has its perks, but then you reach the side where everyone is just a wild fucking original character. They don't model the historical figures anymore- they're just OCs with the name 'Philip Hamilton' or 'John Laurens' or god forbid our third U.S president 'Thomas Jefferson' slapped onto it.

I'm also so confused as to how this is what the fandom is known for. We have some good fics, we have hella good art, we have a M U S I C A L , and then the first thought people have of the Ham fandom is Miku Binder Third President Founding Fucker Slaveowner Thomas Jefferson.

I also find it kind of offensive (almost put insluting oh my ufckjg-) that they made a founder become this but like he'd probably be really pissed so please keep fucking up his memory lmao he deserves it

But like... also why. What made them think of this.

Like yeah I write 20k word TR smut but you don't see me drawing it.

You don't see me making him an UWU e-boy.

...Eh I probably would for shits and giggles tbh

But like this is founding father Thomas Jefferson. Third Pres. Second VP. First Sec. of State. And he is a furry, ex-cocaine addict. Also btw do they mean John Laurens or John Adams as the former drug dealer part because neither are better but it'd really help

Also bro literally raped his 14 year old slave and had like 6 kids with her. He had her room DIRECTLY NEXT TO HIS. He RAPED HIS DEAD WIFE'S HALF-SISTER. AND HE'S A SAD UWU MAN WHO DID NOTHING WRONG?

Let's not forget this same person made a post saying Lizzie (the Queen) would be reincarnated as a horse when she died. I'm serious. Deadass.

However, it's also funny as fuck because this entire thing is a tarnish to Jefferson and I fucking HATE that bastard so like good job lol

At the same time though it's still super weird??? But insane??? Because how did this become one of the Tumblr exclusives??? like it's Tumblr history at this point. Twitter history. You cannot express any like for the Hamilton musical before you get the 'have you seen miku binder thomas jefferson' and it's like 'well shit'.

But also remember: THIS IS NOT AN OC TO FUCK AROUND WITH. Hamilton the Musical specifically gave you and presented you the founder. Thomas Jefferson. Played by Daveed Diggs. Just because it is played by a POC, but also modernized, and vastly different from the actual founder and President, does not mean that at its core it is NOT STILL THE SAME PERSON.

If you name it Thomas Jefferson, if you use the presentation of him given by Daveed Diggs, you are still using that white fucking slave-owning racist motherfucker, and that's the point of it all.

I find it stupid but funny but also insane, and I wouldn't care, unless I KNEW IT WAS SERIOUS. The artist made it seriously. They made John Laurens. They made Philip Hamilton. They did this seriously.

but like also look at this lmao

This meme of Thomas Jefferson in a Hatsune Miku binder really got trending on Twitter at one point

It's an infamous, hellish, classic meme of both Tumblr and the Hamilton fandom, and it deserves what attention it's got, but Jesus please never unironically make shit like this again, Hamilfans, we're stained by this we don't need another😭🔫

EDIT:

i have more

So like, I just remembered: it kinda romanticizes these guys??? The musical??? so like don't get me wrong i love the music but... it puts them into this light. This pink light. It paints Hamilton as an abolitionist who was outspoken about it. When, in reality, dude traded and sold slaves for his in-laws + wasn't all that outspoken about it + was against immigrants or migrants, WHEN DUDE WAS FROM THE ISLANDS. HE HAD SCOTTISH BLOOD. AND HE'S AGAINST IT? Hypocrisy at its finest.

Washington also owned slaves and ran his own plantation too, so he's not off the hook. Madison, the 'uwu small bean' of the fandom, also owned slaves and ran a plantation. So the main people of this entire fiasco are slave-owners. Perfect. But also I've heard Ron Chernow's book on Hamilton, the entire start of the musical, is a bit biased to Ham himself, so...

You could be saying 'but FDRsduckfloaty, Sally is mentioned!' yes. But however, not enough. Not more. It's not even implied more than potentially ONCE what he did, and I'm not sure it ever was! Cabinet battle 3 states it flat-out but it was cut. For your info, Ben Franklin and John Adams are the only two you can really like in the slavery aspect. Ben bought them but let them go for their freedom, and John detested slavery and was against it. Never owned one.

Jefferson did add a slavery clause to the declaration but it was discarded, and he didn't fight half as much as he could have. Maybe he did and since it was the 1700s he didn't have a lot of support, but surely he could've done something like, I don't know, call it out after his terms? Once you're done gaining your second term and out of office, they can't do shit to it or your presidency, since it's over.

So the musical itself has its own problem and the fandom is even worse. It blatantly disregards that a LOT. A hella lot of the amrev fandom + a small part of the ham fandom has called TJeffs out for it but I mean can we please not make shit like Miku Binder Jefferson and act like he wasn't an actual child rapist???

This video does pretty well at it. I will admit the tagline 'America then, told by America now' almost sends shivers down my spine for what it really means. But then again I find men not knowing they'd make it down into the history books for starting the world's global power and the world's economic powerhouse pretty interesting. Doing something big and knowing it's historical, but not that it's going to form a very, VERY large country, where you'll be honored down the road and called a Founding Father of an entire nation? Signing papers and not knowing they're the founding stones of a country and still looked up to today? Intriguing.

But like still fuck Thomas Jefferson lmao

there's a lot more videos on it that dig deep, but the point is, that Hamilton is a good musical with good songs but it's also very... complex, and a bit problematic, Thomas Jefferson is a little bitch, and you should stan 1776 before you ever stan Hamilton. 1776 does not do this. It is much more realistic. 1776 has Benjamin Franklin and that's an immediate win. Be more like a 1776, be less like a Hamilton.

[zepskies]

😍😍 Thank you so much!! Can't wait to dive into your thoughts on Part 3. 😘

I love Denise too!! I made her the reader's aunt half for that reason, and to bring the reader into Beau's inner circle easier (like you pointed out).

I have to thank you for picking up literally EVERYTHING I was putting down in this chapter. 🤣 From the Smoke Eater "soil water" easter egg to "Pivot!" to "threatening to shoot the sheriff" (but not the deputy. A la Dean. 😏) Literally all of those were intentional lol.

Oh God, my worst nightmare whenever someone suggests that 😂 I'm with the reader on that one: is watching TV interesting enough? lol

Omfg same. 😂 Like idk? I barely have time between my jobs to write and veg in front of my couch. I binged a whole season of Friends in 3 days. I consider that fun and cool? ✌🏽

Ooop, someone likes himself a professor 😏 (Thank God she's English Lit and not Paleontology 😆)

What can I say? He likes 'em smart. 😏 (But lmfao not Paleontology. Unless it's Julie.)

I honestly have such a soft spot for Walter 🥺 (Also, Seth Gabel is such a good actor 👀) I didn't like Paige because I thought she was taking advantage of him. I was surprised to find out in the end she actually had feelings for him. That kinda came out of the left field 😅

I so agree!! First of all, he was awesome in that role. A mix of creepy and childlike. But I didn't buy Paige actually developing feelings for him either. I thought she was manipulating him too. (Like okay, she didn't ask him to take the fall for her, but she did manipulate him into stealing and watching the camp/antagonizing Luke for her.)

And I totally understand why reader feels guilty over Mary's death, but it really wasn't her fault. I hope she can forgive herself at some point ❤️

Yeah, I think we would all feel the same way, you know? Even though she couldn't have prevented this, she's always going to feel responsible on some level for not stopping Mary from going alone into the woods. 💔

Jesus effing Christ! No wonder she's so upset and wanted to move 🙈 What a giant ass-douchface her ex-fiance was. Honestly, that scum doesn't deserve her tears...

Ikr?? lol I promised it would make sense. 😂 You'll hear more about doucheface as we go along.

I absolutely loved their little get-to-know coffee date! 🫶 It was exactly what they both needed. Let's be honest, their past meetings were a bit awkward, considering the circumstances (tete-a-tetes with new husbands and murder investigations) 🤣

Aww I'm so glad you loved it!! That "someone who understands how you're feeling" was all too close, huh? Their past meetings were very awkward and unorthodox, to say the least loll. But they're finally getting their more conventional meet cute moment. 🥹 (With a side helping of grief/trauma splashed in.)

Lmfaooo nice John Lithgow gif. Love that guy. But yeah, Beau was sweet for wishing he had a proper tissue, at least. 😂

Gaaaah, I felt through Jenny throughout this chapter. I got all the little hints you dropped and loved the way you described her silent pain 💔

Aw I'm glad you picked up on that. I wanted to play on the S3 threads a bit there with Jenny. 💙

This is my favorite movie, btw. I just watched it last week again lmao 🤣❤️

I LOVE that movie!!! lol Makes me want to watch it tonight. Awesome cast, awesome writing, just my level of hopeless romantic. 💕

And did you have to make that hunk of a man move furniture? And SWEAT???? Dear fucking Lord, I-I- I'm not alive anymore. Pretty sure, yep... 🥵💦 (I was full with Denise with this one. And I could just imagine her gloriously shameless face the whole time as she thirsted over him 😆)

🤪🤪 I had to, I had no choice lmao. I think Denise represented all of us in this chapter. 🤣 (Now I wish I had a gif of Beau in a sweaty t-shirt, but alas.)

Wooohooo! Are we having another date? 👀 Welp, if she's not getting on a horse for Cormac, maybe Beau will actually do it for her 😝 Can't wait for all the riding... I mean horse riding next chapter! 😏😍🤍

That we are!! Or, well, a very date-like "non-date," if you will. 😆 And you already know where Cormack failed, Beau will certainly deliver. 😜

There will be even more "riding" puns to...eh...come!! 😏🐴🐴

As always, thank you for making me smile (and occasionally snort while sipping my glass of wine.~) 💕

Take Me Home - Part 3

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: I’m being continuously blown away by your lovely responses on this story. Thank you so much! I truly appreciate all the love for our cowboy sheriff and where TMH is going.

Word Count: 6.6K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, a heart-to-heart, flirtations, and invitations taken…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 3: Welcome Home

In the next twenty-four hours after Mary was found, the police’s investigation led them to a man named Walter. He’d been living in the woods, and was suspected of stalking the camp for days. 

He was arrested as a prime suspect in Mary’s murder at Sunny Day Excursions, along with Paige’s; even though they’d yet to find her body, the police did confirm that she'd never made it home to New York.

They also found Luke later that night. His body was pierced to a tree by an archer’s arrow. 

The campers were sent home shortly after Walter was arrested. 

And three days later, your aunt Denise gingerly took a seat on the edge of the couch you’d been lying in all day (and all week so far). She swept her fingers over your greasy hair in both comfort and affection. 

Denise Brisbane was your mom’s sister. She was a private investigator here in Helena. And as you found out, she actually worked with Cassie Dewell, the woman you’d met at the camp, who was still in search of a missing backpacker.

“You’ve barely moved in days, honey,” Denise said.

Her face was sympathetic and sad, watching you. Though you felt the sting of guilt, feeling like a burden that had just been unloaded on your aunt, you didn’t want to leave your warm blankets. Your body felt heavy and useless.

“Good news though. The rest of your stuff ships in tomorrow,” she said, continuing to pet your hair. “I’ll help you move into your new apartment. How does that sound?”

You gave a weak nod. “Thanks.”

She sighed. “I’m not trying to kick you out, hun. I just think it’ll be good for you to start getting on your feet.”

You agreed, wordlessly. In your head, you knew she was right. You couldn’t sleep on her couch forever, and perhaps more importantly, you couldn’t let this beat you down forever.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Denise asked, squeezing your shoulder. “Your mom wanted to get the first flight out here, but I told her I’d take care of you until you go home for the funeral.”

You were grateful for that. As much as you loved your mother, you didn’t want to be smothered right now. Your mom’s version of comfort could only include a heavy dose of smothering. The one thing you had been able to do was call Mary’s parents.

That had been a long and painful conversation. After which, you slept like the dead for two days straight.

Denise broke you out of your wandering thoughts when she handed you a business card. It had a banyan tree emblazoned on it, along with the name of a grief counseling center.

“Cassie’s actually been going here, and she’s liked it so far,” she said.

At your furrowed look of confusion, she added, “Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but I think it would be good for you to talk to someone. Maybe someone who understands what you’re going through.”

You sighed and flipped the card through your fingers. You really, really didn’t want to go. You could already what your father would say if he knew you went to a grief counselor. His form of “therapy” was the growing collection of bourbon behind his desk.   

But if it meant you’d stop being a lump in your aunt’s living room, then maybe you could give it a shot.

“Okay,” you nodded. Your voice was a bit coarse with disuse. Denise gave you a smile, and a warm hug that felt like home. She even offered to make your appointment for you.

You were a little annoyed though. Now you’d have to actually get up and put on a bra.

“Maybe shower first, huh?” she advised, while she helped you get up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied.

A hot shower, washing and styling your hair, putting real clothes on, and overall making yourself presentable actually made you feel human again. You even surprised yourself by putting on a bit of makeup.

Once you made it to the grief counseling center in your car, however, you sat in the parking lot for a minute. You had to take a moment to breathe. Because you knew you were going to be asked what happened. You were going to have to get into it all over again.

Even after you were able to leave your car and brave through the carpeted halls of the building, your hands were shaking. At the reception desk, an older woman directed you down another long hallway to the group session. It was the only one available on short notice, but she promised that if you found the session helpful, she could help you book another group session, or even a solo session.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for “solo,” but a group appealed to you. Maybe you could just sit in the back and let the others talk.

The counselor, Tom, greeted you when you walked into the right room. It was a small room with a bunch of chairs formed in a circle at the center. No room to hide, you thought with growing unease. You glanced over and saw that there were a few people already milling about, making small talk in a cluster near the circle.

“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”

Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice. 

You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen. He gave you a sympathetic look as he reached for a cup of water. Seeing him took you by such surprise, you gasped with a slight flinch, accidentally spilling some scalding coffee on yourself in the process. 

You held the cup away from you fast, but a few drops still flecked on your jeans, and even his boots. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you gasped again. Beau just smiled good-naturedly and grabbed a few napkins off the table.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m the one who snuck up on you. Accidentally, I might add.”

He handed you the napkins so you could soak up the coffee from your hand and arm. Meanwhile, he took your half-empty coffee cup and tossed it in the garbage. Your damp wad of napkins joined the cup.

And when you finally looked up at him again, you both found yourselves smiling, despite where you were. It was the first time you’d been able to smile in days.

“Sheriff Arlen,” you greeted. “I did not expect to see you here…”

His smile faltered at that, but his hand reached back to sort through his short hair at the back of his head. 

“Ah, call me Beau,” he said. “I have a feeling we’re about to get to know each other better.”

You agreed to that, just as you agreed to join him for a seat within the circle of chairs. He leaned back in his chair and swept a hand through his hair again, perhaps in a nervous gesture. You glanced over at him, saw the way he smoothed a hand down his jeans when his knee started bouncing…

Could he be as anxious as you? You had to wonder why he was here, for grief counseling of all things. The thought sobered you as more people filtered in and took their seats. Tom eventually got things started from his spot across from you in the circle.

“Okay, we’ve got a couple of first timers to this group session, so tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go around, introduce ourselves, and share something interesting. Whether it’s what you do for a living, a new hobby you picked up, or keeping it even more simple, something fun you did this week.”

You looked down at the folded hands in your lap. If binge watching entire seasons of Succession and sleeping until noon every day counted as something fun, then you were all set.

The introductions started to his left, so it took a while before it got around to you. There was that little flutter of nerves in your stomach, like you were a kid again, and it was the first day of school (but worse).

Luckily, Beau was before you. You were curious about what he would share as he let out a subtle clearing of his throat.

“Hi there, I’m Beau Arlen. Some of you know me as the new sheriff over at Helena PD.” He greeted everyone with a short wave, though he tossed you a smiling glance. “You might also be able to tell that I’m from Texas. Born and bred in Houston. I moved up here to stay close to my daughter, who’s living here with her mother…my ex-wife.”

He tacked on that last bit after a slight pause. But he recovered quicker than you could process and gestured to you next. You forced yourself to perk up, putting your “teacher’s hat” on as you tried to meet everyone’s eyes. First, you gave them your name.

“I’m also from out of town, from Chicago,” you said, glancing at Beau. His expression was encouraging. It gave you the small boost you didn’t know you needed. “I’m a college professor, formerly of the University of Chicago…but I start at Caroll College in the fall.”

Beau’s brows rose as his lips twitched upwards. You tried not to blush as you passed on the introductions to the next person.

The session itself was light overall. Tom talked about the stress that often came with the unknown—with moving past a challenging time, or tackling a new project, or even moving to a new and unfamiliar city. He didn’t force everyone to chime in about themselves, but the ones who were ready to share took the floor one by one. And by the end, you thought that you’d gleaned some useful tidbits just by listening.

Hell, maybe you’d even come back here.

When the session was over though, you were kind of relieved. You grabbed your purse and got up to leave.

“Well, that was relatively painless,” Beau said, also getting up from his seat.

“Yeah, wasn’t so bad,” you replied. Your name fell from his lips in the form of a question, earning your expectant gaze.

“Listen, uh, can I buy you a real cup of coffee?” he offered. “We might not have met under the best of circumstances, but I just heard recently that you’re Denise’s niece. Well, I’m friends with the gals over at Dewell & Hoyt, your aunt included, so I just thought it’d be good to get to know each other, being that we’re both kinda new in town, and—”

You set a light hand on his arm. That one touch was able to stop his rambling, along with the sight of your amused smile up at him.

“Coffee sounds great,” you said.

You decided there was no real harm in meeting him at the nearest coffee shop, just a few minutes away.

It was hard not to associate the sheriff with that terrible night at the camp, but you knew that wasn’t fair to him. He seemed like a nice guy, and by the way he talked about his daughter, maybe even a good man.

In your experience, a good man was hard to find.

“So, what do you teach exactly?” Beau asked. He’d just finished telling you about Emily starting a summer internship with Cassie and Denise at the private investigation agency. Like father like daughter, you’d remarked. Beau’s soft, but proud smile had been telling.

“English literature,” you replied to his question, sipping at your cappuccino. He was drinking a hot French vanilla latte, which kind of amused you. You had expected him to order an Americano or something.   

“Oh, yeah? What sort of classes?” he said.  

“The greatest hits, basically,” you explained. “Composition, English grammar, Shakespeare…Twentieth Century British Literature.”

“Oh, is that all?” he chuckled. It charmed a smile out of you. 

“I don’t know why I asked. I didn’t even go to college,” Beau said. It finally succeeded in making you laugh.

“Straight to the police academy, then?” you asked.

“Like a cannonball, heels a blazin’,” he said, miming a gunshot with his hand. 

“Like a rhinestone cowboy,” you teased. And you felt brave enough to hum the riff of the Glen Campbell song. 

Beau shook his head with a grin. He’d seen you, all tightened up and anxious throughout the group session, even though it had been pretty lightweight. He could relate to your discomfort. He’d made a conscious effort to talk very little about himself and gave the others the room to tell their stories.

Beau liked seeing you more relaxed though. He liked your smile, the glimpses of your sense of humor shining through. He liked that he was somehow able to bring that out of you for a while. 

“I still can’t believe you're Denise’s niece,” he said, once again shaking his head. “What a small world.”

“Yeah. I’ve been crashing on her couch for the past week,” you admitted. “But I have the rest of summer to settle into my new apartment, starting tomorrow. I’ve got my whole life shipping in on a truck.”

Beau nodded at that. He contemplated whether it’d be appropriate for him to offer you some help with that. The question was on the tip of his tongue, until he saw the way your mood saddened. You sat contemplating your coffee mug.

“I asked her to come,” you confessed. When your eyes met his, they shone with the beginning of unshed tears. “The camping trip was Mary’s idea, but I asked her to come with me to Helena for the week. She wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

Beau let out a deep breath and met you with a more somber, understanding gaze. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. He was reminded that they had Walter in custody. He wasn’t yet willing to break and confess to the murders at Sunny Day Excursions, but they had him.

“I promise, we’ll get justice for Mary,” Beau added. You sighed and wiped a tear from your cheek.

“Do you think you have the right man?” you asked, speaking of Walter.

“I do,” Beau replied. “He’s being stubborn, but all the evidence points to him.”

You nodded gratefully, but you had to try and breathe through your tumultuous emotions, the way your heart was cracking with pain. You didn’t want to break down in the middle of a damn coffee shop.

Again, Beau wrestled with the inclination to cover his hand over yours. He felt like he was toeing the line between his professional capacity as a sheriff, and the fact that you were his friend’s niece. He wanted to comfort you the best he could. But sometimes, words just weren’t enough.

You took a half-hearted sip of your coffee. By now, it was lukewarm, if still tasty and sweet. It was healthier than whiskey, you supposed.

“She was like…like my sister, you know?” you said. “I feel like I failed her.”

Beau shook his head, his dark brows furrowing. He didn’t know how many times he could say it wasn’t your fault, knowing you probably wouldn’t ever believe it.

That struck a familiar bell.

“Look, I uh…I understand what you’re going through,” he admitted. Your watery gaze found his again. Your head tilted in interest.

He sighed before answering your unspoken question. “I lost my partner on the job, now a couple years back.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, and your sympathy was as genuine as his had been for you. “I’m guessing you two were close.”

Beau’s lips quirked at one corner. “He was like my brother. Matter of fact, I think it used to make my own brother jealous.”

You processed that with a sad frown, though your brows soon rose in curiosity.

“You have a brother?”

“Yep,” Beau nodded. The brief shadows in his eyes lifted at the merciful change of topic. “Good ole’ David. I still call him Davey, even though he hates it.”

A smile played on your lips. “Older or younger?”

“Younger, by a few years,” he replied. There was a more natural gleam to his smile then. “He’s a hotshot doctor back in Houston.”

He teased, but you could see there was pride behind his eyes. It reminded you of the way he got whenever he talked about Emily.

“So you know my story. What brought you to Montana?” he asked. He wanted to see if he could help you get your mind off Mary. He didn’t know that he’d just pulled the pin on a whole other grenade. 

You let out a wry chuckle. 

“Uh, oh,” Beau said warily. 

You nodded. He did tell you his story—ex-wife with a new husband, daughter, a new job in Montana—though you still didn’t know why he was going to grief counseling. If it was because of his partner, you could understand that…but you also didn’t want to pry.

You also knew it was only fair to answer his question.

“It’s not exactly like your situation but…I was engaged,” you said at last. 

Past tense, he noted. 

“Good guy?” he asked. 

“A firefighter,” you replied. Though you knew well the rivalry that sometimes existed between cops and firefighters. Beau’s growing bemusement told you he was thinking along the same lines. 

“Ah, a smoke eater, huh?” But his smile faded. “Did something happen to him on the job?”

“No,” you said, again with that weary chuckle. It was hard for you to get this out, but you’d been wrestling with it for over six months, damn near a year. It was enough. 

“Just a couple months before the wedding, I found out he’d been cheating on me with his college girlfriend…pretty much throughout our whole relationship,” you said. 

Though you promised yourself that you’d never cry over this again, today had already been incredibly difficult. The tears came, and you couldn’t stop them. 

Beau's brows had risen high in surprise. Then, a deeper sympathy settled in his eyes.

“Jesus. How long?” he asked.

“We were together three years, engaged for about another one,” you said. “Almost four years of my life, just…”

You mimed a puff of smoke blowing out of your hand. 

“Yeah. I know the feeling,” Beau said. His tone was wry as he dragged a hand over his beard. You gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I know my story doesn’t compare with a marriage,” you said.

“That’s not what I was gettin’ at,” he replied. “But I get it. You start to think, what the hell was it all for? …Except for my daughter.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I don’t have an Emily,” you said. At the same time though, you were very glad you never had kids with that man.

Beau frowned when he saw the way your face fell further, becoming distant, and lost in old memories. 

“Afterwards, I…I checked out, you know? I could barely focus on my students, my family, my friends.” Your nails drummed on the countertop. You shook your head as it all filtered through your mind again. “But the last straw was that my dad tried to get me to work things out with him, and I just…I lost it. Beau, I absolutely lost my shit.”

Beau grimaced. “What made your dad think that would work?”

“He’s a retired firehouse chief,” you said, with a purse of your lips. “He’s always had a soft spot for Michael.”

“Michael, huh?” Beau quirked a brow. “That come with a last name?”

You shot him a look of amusement. 

“What, are you going to run his LUDS?” you joked, but you couldn’t prevent a sniffle as a new wave of emotion threatened an upswell.

You felt pathetic. This man was the whole-ass sheriff of this town. He probably had more important things to do than listen to you complain about your imploded relationship. But you were also Denise’s niece. Maybe he just felt sorry for you.

He offered you a napkin. “Sorry it’s not a tissue.”

In his eyes though, you didn’t see pity. Just kindness.

“It’s okay. I can brave a scratchy napkin,” you said, laughing a little. “But after that, I knew one of two things was going to happen. Either I was going to break open my dad’s gun safe and shoot the bastard in the ass, or I had to get the hell out of Chicago. My mom and Aunt Denise suggested I come here for a visit, just to clear my head. That turned into scoping out jobs, and then apartments… Now I’m here.”

That fell between you for a moment as your companion processed it all. In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have mentioned that whole bit about possibly shooting your ex, but he took it in stride. 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are,” Beau said. “Here, that is.”

You couldn’t help but blush; at his words, the deep green of his eyes, and the sincerity of his smile.

“Likewise, Sheriff,” you said.

He smirked. “Also glad you didn’t go shootin’ people in the ass.” 

You covered your face and laughed. 

Beau walked you to your car like the gentleman he was, even though it was only late afternoon. You opened the driver’s side door, but you lingered there. You turned back to him, curling a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thanks for the coffee, and for letting me ramble, and vent, and soak up a few dozen napkins,” you said. You laughed a little in embarrassment, but he waved it off.

“It wasn’t as bad as all that, but good luck movin’ into your apartment tomorrow,” he said. Then it was his turn to hesitate. “If you need some help with that, just let me know.”

You blinked, mouth parting in soft surprise.

“Oh, thank you but…I don’t want to trouble you,” you said.

“You wouldn’t be. That’s why I offered,” he replied, smiling down at you in a way that had you melting a little bit more. “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, but after, I could probably pull in Cassie. Maybe even Jenny, if she’s up for it. She’s one of our deputies at the PD.”

Beau recognized your hesitance.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble, I promise,” he said, holding a hand over his heart. “We’ve gotta welcome you to the neighborhood, don’t we?”

You were still a little unsure, but you agreed to it with a thank you, along with a more shy, sweet smile.

Beau liked that smile too.

Later that day, Beau remembered it was his turn to host the ritual movie night Friday with Cassie and Jenny. His trailer was too small to have it inside, so they set up Cassie’s projector out in front, by the fire. According to his friends, he was going about the night with too much cheer.

“You’re entirely too smiley to have just come from an afternoon of therapy,” Jenny pointed out. She uncapped her second beer, then passed him the bucket. He waved her off; he was still nursing his first beer of the night. If he stuck to his plan, then it’d be his only beer of the night.

“Aw, it wasn’t so bad, actually,” he said. He explained that you had been there at the group session. The moment your name was mentioned, Cassie and Jenny both raised their brows.

“Really?” Cassie remarked.

“Yeah. Losing her friend really shook her up. Understandably,” Beau said. His gaze lowered when he played through his afternoon with you in his mind. Though your situations were different, both in your lost friends and lost relationships, he realized just how much he’d understood and connected with a near stranger.

That kind of thing didn’t happen to him often, if ever before.

“But, she’s actually moving into her new place tomorrow,” he added, breaking himself out of his own head. “Speakin’ of, would you two have the time to help her and Denise out? I already said I would come by after shift tomorrow.”

Cassie and Jenny shared a certain look—the kind these women donned when they were having a private conversation with just their eyes. This time, it seemed to be about him.

“What?” he asked, his hands spreading wide.

“Nothing,” Cassie said, smiling. “Sure, I can come.”

“Yeah,” Jenny agreed, “barring nothing too crazy happens on shift.”

Beau inclined his head. “Knock on wood there. Anyway, what’re we watching?”

“Crazy, Stupid Love,” Jenny grinned, holding up the DVD cover. “For Ryan Gosling, of course.”

Beau rolled his eyes.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t have expected that he’d make friends with exclusively women in this town, but he only complained about it in times like these.

Though as it turned out, he enjoyed the movie. There were as many hilarious scenes as there were poignant ones. By the end of the night though, he was beat.

Jenny helped with the cleanup, but she ended up taking off first. It left Beau to put away the fold-up chairs with Cassie.

“So, tell me,” she said, in a leading tone and with a teasing smile. “You crushing on Glamper Girl for real now?”

Beau shot her a wry look.

“She’s not a glamper anymore,” he pointed out. “And I’m not crushing like some teenager. I just want to help her out. She’s been through a lot…and she’s Denise’s family. It’s just the right thing to do.”

Cassie laughed. “That’s a lot of over-explaining you’re doing right there, but okay, Beau.” 

He rolled his eyes, but he had to smile. “Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna have to insist you get off my property.”

“Off what, your tin can?” she retorted.

“Hey! She can hear you.”

Beau wiped the sweat from his brow strategically while he carried his end (the heavier end, he might add) of your couch. He and Jenny were trying to get it up the stairwell to your apartment on the second floor.

“Okay now, just pivot on this corner,” he instructed. “Pivot!”

 Jenny nearly dropped her end out of sheer aggravation. Her blue eyes cut down to his.

“If you say pivot one more time, I’m gonna shoot you,” she snapped.

Beau whistled in amusement. “Threatening to shoot the sheriff. Now that’s at least a misdemeanor.”

Right as he could almost see the fumes coming out of his deputy’s ears, you hustled up the stairs to help them. You picked up the middle to make it easier.

“Okay, we can do this! I think we can just tip it on its side to get it around the corner,” you said.

To everyone’s relief, your suggestion worked. Denise held the door open while the three of you got the couch up to the second floor, then into your apartment. Once the couch was successfully in the living room, you went to the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of water out of the fridge. You handed one each to Beau and Jenny.

“Thank you guys again so much for doing this,” you said, still catching your breath. You surveyed all the boxes and furniture you all had brought in, and you realized you were crazy to think you and Denise could’ve done all of this by yourselves.

“It’s our pleasure,” Beau nodded. He gestured to his sweating face and neck. “But do you have a towel or a rag or something? You’re about to be mopping me off the floor in a minute.”

“Yeah, of course. Hold on,” you said. You went back into the kitchen and retrieved a clean hand towel. Beau used it to dry his face, neck, and the top of his chest.

You tried not to stare at the flash of tan skin near the collar of his plain gray shirt, or the wet spots clinging to his back. The sleeves were tight around his arms and across his chest, leading you to believe that despite being in his mid-forties, he kept himself in shape. 

Meanwhile, Jenny drank her water, and pretended not to notice you staring at her boss. Part of her was amused, but a good part of her felt an unfamiliar sting as well.

“Okay,” Beau clapped a hand on his jean-clad thigh after he drained his own water bottle. “What’s next?”

Your face warmed, because you knew what your aunt was about to say before she said it.

“Oh, I think it’s just your bed, right honey?” she asked you.

“All right, let’s do it. Frame, headboard, box spring, and mattress, I assume,” Beau said, rubbing his sweaty hands together. He stretched his arms in preparation.

Again, you had to admire the way his shirt pulled across his tall, broad frame. But you followed after him when he started heading out the door.

“Wait, you shouldn’t do it by yourself!” you called out, and quickly followed after him.

Denise shot Jenny and Cassie a highly amused look.

“That's what she saaaid,” Denise sing-songed. The other two women grimaced.

“Wow. That’s your niece!” Cassie exclaimed.

“And technically my boss, thanks,” Jenny added.

“What, they’re cute, aren’t they?” Denise said, gesturing at the way you and Beau left.

“This from the woman who’s been lusting after that man since the minute he got into town,” Cassie retorted.

“Well, I’m woman enough to bow out when I’ve been thwarted. By my own blood no less,” Denise replied, but her mischievous smile said it all as she breezed back into the kitchen to start unpacking the silverware for you.

She knew for a fact that you’d made dinner for later—and not just because she’d told you how much Beau liked lasagna.

Beau accepted your help, along with Cassie and Jenny’s in bringing up all the parts of your bed. He just insisted on utilizing his own power tools to put it together.

That was how you found yourself holding the headboard up straight while Beau made sure the frame was aligned. It wasn’t as easy as it looked; the wood panels had to slide into the notch in the headboard just so, before he could start drilling the bolts back in.

“Damn it,” he muttered, when one panel of the frame nearly slipped out of his hand.

“Can you actually use that power drill?” Cassie asked. “Because you’re pretty hopeless with cars.”

Beau rolled his eyes, despite his smile. “Save the belittling for later. Tryin’ to concentrate.”

After a few more minutes of sweating, mild cursing, and internal praying, you, Beau, and Cassie managed to get the bedframe put together with the headboard. Then the box spring, and finally the mattress. It marked the official end of moving in.

While Beau, Cassie, and Jenny took a much-deserved rest sitting on the couch with a round of beers, you went to the kitchen where your aunt had already preheated the oven for you. Now you just needed to pull out the two massive pans of lasagna you’d prepared the night before—as a thank you for everyone who came to help you.

Denise sidled up to you and touched your arm to get your attention.

“Good job inviting our dear Beau to lift furniture for us,” she whispered, waggling her brows. You shot her a look and shushed her.

“Do you always flirt with him like this?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, I might have to do it less blatantly if he’s gonna keep playing Mr. White Knight for you,” she teased. 

“He is not. He’s just…nice,” you whispered back. “So are Cassie and Jenny.” 

Denise gave you an amused look. “Mhmm.”

You rolled your eyes and focused on getting dinner ready.

Within the hour, the five of you were sat at your new modest dining table between the kitchen and the living room, eating lasagna and drinking iced tea. Jenny and Beau had beers alongside them, and conversation drifted from how you intended to set up the apartment, to Cassie’s still open missing backpacker case.

The parents were even more worried now, saying it was out of character for him not to check in with a phone call, despite the email he’d apparently sent them a few days ago. Beau had agreed to give Cassie whatever help she needed on the periphery, especially if further evidence revealed itself on the backpacker’s whereabouts.

Beau was already on his second helping of lasagna when he raised his gaze to you, right across from him at the table.

“Clearly you get your cooking skills from your aunt, because this is fantastic,” he said.

Denise twittered. You blushed a little as you smiled.

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

There was a short lull, filled by the tapping of silverware on plates, before Denise spoke up.

“By the way,” she said, looking to you and Beau. “Did you two have a productive time at grief counseling? What did you talk about?”

It was a well-meaning, but perhaps intrusive question. Both you and Beau tensed up. Cassie gave Denise a warning look. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. You guys don’t have to answer that,” Denise amended. 

“Um, it’s okay,” you replied. “It wasn’t too bad…I think I might go again.”

Beau had a warmer smile for you. “That’s good.”

You were able to return his smile. You turned to Cassie next.

“You went there for a while, right?” you asked. Cassie nodded. 

“It was helpful,” she said. “I’m glad you’re getting something out of it.”

You took that with a nod, and returned your gaze to Beau.

“Have you been going there long?” you asked him.

He tilted his head. “Actually, yesterday was my first time too.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, really?”

Cassie was intrigued at the way this little scene was playing out. Thought she caught the look on Jenny’s face while she watched it too. Like Jenny was studying them, not sure what to make of it all.

Beau wore a self-deprecating smile.

“Yeah. Just…hadn’t gotten around to it,” he answered you.

There was a heaviness in his voice and in his eyes that you didn’t miss, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in a room full of people, even if they were his friends. 

“Well, I’ll go again if you do,” you offered, a bit bolder than you felt. Beau met your eyes across the table, and his lips lifted at the corners. 

“All right,” he said. “You got yourself a deal, miss ma’am.”

You fought against a blush rising up your neck. You glanced down and took a sip of your iced tea. 

“Look at you. Pulling out your ‘sheriff’ voice,” Cassie teased. 

“Like a rhinestone cowboy…” you sang into your glass. Your smile peeked out around the corners of it.  

Most of the table laughed. Jenny smiled, but opted for drinking her beer.

Meanwhile, Beau gave you a mock look of betrayal. His true amusement shone through his eyes. 

“I see how this is. Gang up on the Texan time,” he remarked. 

That gave Cassie an opening to ask you something, and hopefully get to know you better. Already she had an instinct about you: she liked you. And clearly Beau seemed to as well. Cassie tended to be more cautious about people, even if you were Denise’s family.

“So how are you liking the Midwest so far?” Cassie asked you. 

“So far? It’s the fresh air I needed,” you replied. 

“Oh, you should check out that art studio you wanted to see,” Denise chimed in. 

“You’re an artist too?” Beau asked, raising a brow. You chuckled.

“No, just an amateur with a handful of brushes,” you replied.

You remembered the peace you’d gotten while painting in sight of the mountains. But when you got to Denise’s house, you’d hidden away those canvases, not wanting to be reminded of that week at Sunny Day Excursions. And of Mary. 

“Oh, but have you gone horseback riding yet?” Denise asked. “I know you were gonna try on your camping trip—”

You loved your aunt. You really did, but she also had a knack for putting her foot in her mouth. The others quieted as you dimmed at the actual mention of that God-forsaken place.

“I tried,” you said. “I never actually managed to make it on the horse.” 

“Aw, well if you ever want to go, there’s a stable in town. They give lessons too,” Denise said.

You nodded and forced a smile. You went back to picking at the remnants of lasagna and salad on your plate.

When everyone began to filter out of your new apartment, each with their own set of well-wishing and a container of leftovers to take home, Beau ended up being last to leave. You had followed him to the door, where you handed him his tupperware of leftovers, and he thanked you in appreciation.

“Now I just need a microwave,” he said. “My toaster oven’s been on the fritz.”

Your brows rose in amusement. “You have a toaster oven, but not a microwave?”

“Well, let’s just say my trailer doesn’t exactly have a whole lot of space for appliances,” Beau replied, chuckling.

You smiled at that. You hesitated, but you eventually touched his hand that held the tupperware.

“Thank you again for coming here, for helping me…and for yesterday,” you said.

Beau almost didn’t realize it, but his face was getting warm. As warm as your pretty smile.

“Well, you’re very welcome,” he said. “And just puttin’ it out there, I may or may not have been riding a horse before I could walk. First memory I have is my dad putting me on Old Bess when I was four. She nearly kicked me off…not that that would happen to you. I’m just saying—” 

“I see.” Your giggle ended with a smirk. Beau tended to ramble. You weren’t sure if it was a nervous tick, or just a facet of his upbeat personality…but you found it endearing.

He leveled you with a grin. “Listen, what I mean to say is, if you’re serious about wanting to learn how to ride, I could teach you. It’s not that hard.”

You bit your lip, mentally beginning to weigh out the pros and cons. To be honest, you still had reservations, both on riding a horse, and on Beau being the one to teach you. Was he just being nice, your “friendly neighborhood sheriff,” or was your aunt onto something?

…You weren’t sure, but your instincts told you that at the very least, you could trust him with this. And trust had become hard for you to give any man.

“Okay, cowboy. Let’s ride,” you said. And you even surprised yourself with the flirtatious note in your voice. 

Beau’s grin kicked up a notch. You then exchanged numbers so you could hash out the details of when and where to meet sometime soon. Hopefully soon. 

Then you wished him a good night. 

“G’night, darlin’,” he said. He lingered in the hallway for a parting grin. “And welcome home.”

Your answering smile warmed him, long after he left your door.

AN: *rubs hands together* We're really getting into it now. 😂 Finally we have the big reveal of why she left Chicago, and the start of her and Beau's bond. You'll see more of that, and of Emily, in the next chapter...

Next Time:

You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.

You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck. 

Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”

You shot him a narrowed look.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

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[ahtsumu]

Hello could you please do one for she/her x oikawa x the song 'assassin' by john mayer? Congrats on milestone btw you totally deserved it!! Have a good day🥰🥰

[assassin]

oikawa tooru wakes to the sight of the sun already at its apex in the sky.

he wakes beside you with your head on his chest.

that sentence alone should not ring alarm bells in his head–– you’re a stunning young woman with razor-sharp wit and a fantastic sense of humour and you like coffee in the morning and you dream of being–– well, that’s exactly the problem. the fact that he knows all these things about you when all he should know is your body, the fact that this is not the first and only time he’s ever woken up in your bed but the fifth… that’s why warning signals flash everywhere.

oikawa tooru is falling into routine and some part of him likes it. that same part is also saying it means he’s falling in love. oikawa looks over at you and studies the curves of your face, relaxed in sleep, softened by sunlight. an amused breath leaves his nose. it’s useless trying to deny it.

he’s in love with you.

funny how the tables turn.

the media calls him a playboy. heartbreaker. ladykiller. oikawa tooru’s modus operandi is to hit it and quit it and the long trail of bloody, broken hearts behind him is proof of his crimes. it’s the only proof. after all, he can’t even remember most of his victims’ names and, he knows now how awful it sounds but, never bothered to.

but yours lingers in his mouth like molasses.

you played his game better than he did and now the game’s yours. maybe it always has been. maybe he’d just been too caught up in the moment to see it. oikawa softly strokes your exposed shoulder as he wonders what this means for him.

well, he muses, staring at his hand on your skin, i’m fucked, for one.

if he’s a ladykiller, you’re an assassin. there are more notches in your bedpost than there are blocked numbers in his phone–– and you keep adding onto them. you have the oikawa tooru already wrapped around your finger like a custom-made ring and you take it off every night for a few hours of flashing lights and thrumming bass, the hands of some other guy all over your body. and he’s just left waiting around for your call like a lovesick fool, running to your feet at first ring.

funny how the tables turn.

oikawa’s lips curl up in a tight smile. a taste of his own medicine is what this is. poison, perhaps. but your head on his chest feels so heavy in a good way–– like being a loved one’s emergency contact, or having a child, or buying a house for the first time. an anchor.

you stir. “oikawa?” you murmur, sitting up. oikawa’s eyes widen just slightly before he forces a nonchalant mask over his face. “what time is it?”

he fights the urge to say “good morning” with a kiss on your cheek and says that it’s half-past ten instead.

“oh.” you slip out of bed and rub the sleep from your eyes. “i have lunch in a bit with friends, so you should probably go. thanks for the night.” you put your lips to his cheek and giggle, then stroll into the bathroom.

oikawa takes his leave.

he counts down the seconds until you call again.

what’s on the menu for ahtsumu’s feast?

[gwoongi]

wordless pt.1

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick?) au, sugar daddy au, fluff, pining, angst rating: mature words: 4.1k warnings: mentions of blood and violence, unconventional relationship, angsty themes, smoking mention a/n: this is jeongguk as john wick because i’m trash and i cant finish one story at a time. these prompts r from here btw :) im gonna do all 50 but im too lazy rn so here’s the first 10 :D

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Now, it definitely was not a stretch to assume that everything in Jeongguk’s life was indeed unconventional. People didn’t need to understand that what Jeongguk did for work was something that, by the law, was considered unprofessional and inhumane, and so when asked, Jeongguk sufficed for “boss of a company”, and questions weren’t asked. If they were, Jeongguk came up with a slightly more conventional lie, to make up for the reality that was Jeongguk working on the clock, killing nobodies for a bit of cash.

Taehyung, his right-hand man, had expressed how unconventional Jeongguk seemed to be over a dinner in Venice, a little restaurant tucked away unconventionally in a street that did not belong to America. Jeongguk spoke four languages comfortably, and had parents retiring in the Canary Islands. Jeongguk donated money to women’s charities and mental health services, and helped bribe his cousins into Ivy Leagues when racism prevented them from entry. Jeongguk was a Joe-Exotic in the making and owned a rescue black panther named Elio, and had houses across the globe for use when working. And, Jeongguk was dipping his toes into playing house with a sugar baby who was only five years younger than him, of whom he had met in a stakeout which involved the hit being on your brother’s head. Unconventionally, you led him to his target, and afterwards, dined with him in a Thai restaurant.

Things in Jeongguk’s life were far from ordinary, but perhaps it was the denial of mundane comforts that kept Jeongguk going. If he went back to normality, to working a shitty customer service job like when he was seventeen, dumping trash into overflowing piles behind the off-license he worked at, things wouldn’t be the same. Jeongguk would feel alien, like he didn’t belong. At least here, amongst the pain and the bullets and the years worth of trauma packed in his wrinkles (which, yes, if he looks hard enough, he can see some cursing his twenty five year old skin), Jeongguk felt like he sort of belonged. In an unconventional way.

Having met Jeongguk during his line of work, there were difficulties in being Jeongguk’s sugar baby. For one, he always felt guilty for having murdered your brother, even though you heavily supported the hit. Your brother was a jerk, a bully with money, someone who had wronged your entire family, turned off your younger sister’s life support when there was a chance of her survival. Asshole, he deserved it. Secondly, Jeongguk was impractical and irrational and often acted selfishly, meaning he was often out of the country on work, only available in whispers for a few hours and then he was gone, compensating with a few sums of cash.

He tried his best. Jeongguk, despite technicalities including his work and his past and his occasional mean streak, genuinely cared about other people. When he could, he made the effort, otherwise not attempting to make promises to you that he could not keep. Jeongguk knows that he got really lucky when he found you. You didn’t ask questions. Nobody was better for him.

However, Jeongguk was selfish, and broken, and in refusal of fixing what was wrong with him. When it was of convenience, Jeongguk drew comparisons to the last girlfriend he tried to entertain. One who wronged him, and died when he tried to repair everything she had destroyed. Jeongguk carries that with him like the tattoos on his skin, a permanent memory, and something that often disturbs what could be and should be between the both of you.

Jeongguk is worthy of love, and capable of loving. On days where Jeongguk is free to lounge without the guilt of not working, you find it is so easy to love him. But, it can’t be that way. You couldn’t just tell him that. Telling him that you loved him would be inappropriately unconventional. Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears it again.

(1) Holding their hands when they are shaking.

Jeongguk is in his living room, his right leg bouncing like a spring as he cradles an infant glass of whiskey. His eyes are glazed, yet wide, staring at the Seoul city draped in darkness and neon, and without even looking inside, you know that his brain is spinning, thoughts chaotic and loud.

“Hey,” you call out to him, and his eyes stutter to the left to catch you in the doorway, “I heard you get up. What’s wrong?”

Jeongguk shakes his head gently. “Nothing, baby, go back to bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Jeongguk often makes comments without expectancies. You stand in the doorway that connects the living room to the long hall that stems into bedrooms and bathrooms, and watch him for a moment. His whole body vibrates like a speaker, his hands trembling as the glass drains and he reaches for a second, or a third, or maybe a tenth. You want to sigh, without being patronising, but you know that any sign of sympathy is mistaken for that whenever Jeongguk is around to make the judgement.

He looks back to the skyline and frowns, his attention panning from the window to his phone that buzzes blue, but he ignores. Stepping across the cool wooden floorboards, you approach him sleepily and take a seat next to him on the sofa. Neither of you move, but he recognises you’ve moved. He bristles slightly, like it was unexpected.

“You can take your time,” you suggest to him, and his hands ache in his lap as he sets the glass down on the coffee table with a careless thud. He scoffs, devoid of emotion, and dips his head so his chin is near his collarbones. In his lap, those hands shake. “Maybe don’t drink so much tonight.”

“I’m clearing my head,” he insists weakly. Those hands still shake.

Brows creased with a pinch, you swallow the unease and reach for his hands. Jeongguk doesn’t say anything as you do so, enveloping his hands in yours, and so suddenly the shaking ceases. Like trying to block the shakes from reaching his wrists, your hands keep his safe.

“I know,” you understand honestly, because you do know what he’s going through. “How about tea, or something? To calm down, calm down the mess that’s up in there.”

Your chin is on his shoulder, and he smiles softly. “Are you calling me messy?”

“Nah, I’m calling your brain messy,” you reply. “It’s a cruel fucking brain.”

“Hate my brain.”

“Today, we hate it.”

Jeongguk’s head turns slightly so that he can see you, and in his lap, his thumbs brush across your skin.

“Thank you,” Jeongguk says quietly, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite convince. It doesn’t necessarily have to, not tonight anyway. His phone continues to flash like a light show, Taehyung’s name in bold. “Fuck. I’ll take the call, and then I’ll come back to bed, okay?”

You nod, “Mm, okay. Want me to make a drink?”

“I don’t need it,” Jeongguk concludes. “Not today.”

(2) Tucking the sheets around them when they stir during the night.

Sometimes Jeongguk wakes up in the night due to nightmares, but tonight, it’s different.

Beside him, you stir uncomfortably and kick his leg for the fourth time. He huffs and looks over, trying to figure out if you’re awake and indignant, or lost in the dream. He settles on the latter when you strain out the name of your brother and his heart swoops with a dull ache.

“You’re just dreaming, baby, come on,” Jeongguk mutters quietly into your ear, holding you in place to calm the thrashing. “He’s not here anymore, I’m here. Y/N.”

It subsides after a few minutes, making it the longest you’ve gone on record. He looks into your sleepy, upset eyes as you break awake and brushes the hair out of your face. He tries to smile for you, and maybe you can’t see in the dark.

“I’ll get you some water,” Jeongguk suggests gently. “Hm? Sweet thing. It’s just a dream.” He says this into your hair in a hug, leaving a kiss on your temple as he breaks. “You’re fine.”

“I’m fine,” you breathe uneasily, and he separates to get a glass of water and returns to find you sleeping again. What relief Jeongguk might have is exhaled as he sets the glass on the bedside table, stroking your hair until he moves away with the sudden realisation that this is not a normal exchange.

Before Jeongguk decides to leave again, he makes sure the bed is made and that you are safe; he tucks the duvet in tightly and presses a kiss to your forehead before grabbing his coat by the front door and leaving your apartment, one tucked in the city so far that Jeongguk finds it a hassle to visit.

(3) Travelling long distances just to see them.

For three days now, you have been in Colmar, and Jeongguk is beginning to feel lonely. It had been his idea to send you away, when the heat on his long, long fued with a rival colleague threatened your safety. In return, you got a new apartment that Taehyung had found closer to Jeongguk’s own when your address got leaked, and Colmar could be considered a vacation if you pretended for long enough.

With tensions cool and the coast somewhat clear, Jeongguk picks the skin around his fingernails as a distraction before deciding that enough was enough. He missed you, and missed how you were always around for him when he needed you most. This is what drives him to jumping on a plane in his company’s name, and flying to France.

A small boat passes underneath the bridge you are standing on, and your hands dig into the barrier as you arch to smile at the tourists beneath. One catches a glimpse of your denim skirt and cherry print blouse in the sunshine and extends his hat with a wave, and you wave back. France is nothing like Seoul, and is indeed warm and fruitful and unique. The sun is hot, the sky is clear, and the streets are filled with an atmospheric buzz of friendliness, the smell of coffee and some food you don’t know yet entrapping your senses.

“Madame, je peux vous prendre en photo?”

Hearing the voice, you turn your body left and prepare to face the tourist, but instead you are welcomed with the sight of Jeongguk dressed in black, sunglasses sliding down his nose with a smile. He does hold a camera in his hands, although teasingly.

“Oui,” you quip, posing cutely and Jeongguk takes a photograph anyway, to humour the moment, to print when he gets back to Seoul. You join his laughter as he peers at the photograph and he walks without looking up towards you.

“When did you get here?” you ask him, a round of laughter from the little boat making you turn to stare at them with a giggle.

“Bout an hour ago,” Jeongguk replies, and he shuts off the camera and puts it in his coat pocket. It’s only a small camera, probably cost him a crumb to buy from a vintage store. He meets your eyes with a comfortable smile and rounds in, pressing your lower back against the bridge barrier and circling your arms around you. Carefully, then, he kisses you, tasting the suncream on your skin as his lips wander from yours to the skin around your face.

“Miss me?”

“Terribly,” Jeongguk responds. “I am so bored when you’re not around. You always have something to do, always have something to say.”

You hum in response. “I’m glad I’m of some entertainment for you.”

“Oh, for sure,” agrees Jeongguk. “I don’t think I’ve used my brain so often when I’m away from work as much as I do when I’m with you. Did you know that you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met?”

“Wow,” you exclaim with a smile. “Hire me.”

“Ha!” he remarks, kissing you again and taking your hand in his. He moves, back in the way you came. “Over my dead body.”

(4) Making their favorite meal when they are having a hard day.

“You.”

“Not now, Y/N, I’m working,” Jeongguk replies non committedly. He fists his hair.

“Not up for discussion right now,” you huff, and he has the nerve to glare at you which only makes you uncomfortably angry. “You haven’t eaten in fourty eight hours, and I’m not about to be held responsible for your death when you die of hunger, so get your ass in the kitchen before I dump this food over your stupid head.”

He challenges you. “You’re brave talking to somebody who could destroy your life like that.”

“Do it, I literally have nothing to lose,” you answer. “Please eat something. I made it with love and care.”

Jeongguk relents, sighing at his paperwork but nonetheless moving away from his home office and following you like a child towards the direction of the kitchen. He feels bad, you know he feels bad, and he circles his arms around your body as you walk, stumbling into the space of the kitchen and smelling the familiar aroma of pork rice stew. Alas, he sees the bowl steaming in his spot at the table and his eyes follow you as you hum and set start to washing the dishes.

“Y/N-”

“No words, just eating,” you instruct. “Bone apple tit.”

He grins, then, and takes a seat. “You know that’s not the phrase, right?”

“Tell that to Twitter,” you sigh.

(5) Giving them a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed.

Jeongguk prefers to see you when he doesn’t have work the next day, because leaving when you’re asleep is an asshole move in any dictionary. So, when one of his men phones him at four in the morning and relays the horror that someone’s died on his property, Jeongguk has to fight the demons that almost convince him to hand the job over to somebody who gives a fuck about the intruder stuck on his barbed fence.

He gets up, anyway.

Next to him, in the bed that belongs to you because this is your new apartment, Jeongguk stares down at you and feels a tug in his stomach. Guilt, it follows him everywhere like a ghost.

Before he leaves, he likes to give you a little kiss for the morning, so the tingling sensation reminds you that despite being an asshole and leaving without properly saying goodbye, he still gives several shits about you, and will be back when he can be.

(6) Tucking your head into their neck during a hug.

Jeongguk wants to hang Taehyung for making him remember the reasons why you had to move across the city to a new apartment.

It had, of course, been Jeongguk’s fault, and when the notification came from an exhausted worker in his line of work that the alarm system in your apartment had been triggered for an intruder, Jeongguk remembers all he saw was red.

The front door was forced open, a body indent in the wood and the front porch ransacked and littered with shards of glass and bullets. Inside was no prettier, with mess scattered everywhere and photos smashed on the floors. The carpets were stained with red that Jeongguk prayed was just wine, the glass coffee table in two pieces and a knife covered in red on the floor. Jeongguk and his men, along with the few police officers Jeongguk could actually trust in this god-forsaken hellhole, noticed that the blood belonged to one of the intruders who lay dead on the stairs.

Nobody knows how Jeongguk got through the apartment so fast, and why, without any hesitation, he murdered the remaining intruders without suggesting questioning and torture. That was his go-to when it rarely concerned you. He wanted those stupid enough to even try and go after you to really fucking regret it as he picked off fingernails and made them suffer for hours or days. This time he just killed, and moved onwards, calling your name like a mantra.

Jeongguk could have cried when you emerged, petrified, from inside one of the closets. Upon seeing you, Jeongguk collapsed his gun on the floor and stepped towards you protectively, pulling you in tightly for a hug. Sobbing into his neck, you hugged him tighter, feeling finally safe when his hand held the back of your head, like you were a precious thing that was of value.

You were of the highest value to Jeongguk.

“Fuck you,” Jeongguk barks suddenly, and Taehyung shrugs and exits the office. All he had asked was if he loved you.

(7) Lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise.

There might be the assumption that Jeongguk comes home with more bruises than you do. Which is true, technically, and there’s no hesitation from your end in nursing them to a comfortable recovery.

On rare occasion, Jeongguk comes home and finds you exhibiting a new purple blob on your skin. Like today. 

Jeongguk hasn’t seen you in two days, and when he lets himself into your apartment with the key he has glued to him at all times, he follows the silence and light to the bathroom. You sit on the edge of your bathtub, gently rubbing cream on your knee in little circles.

“What happened here?” he asks quickly, and you continue rubbing with your tongue poking out between your lips.

“You’ll laugh, don’t ask,” you mutter.

“Hey, I won’t laugh,” Jeongguk says. He rests his weight against the doorframe, “You open the front door the wrong way again?”

Ha! You laugh humourlessly. “Worse!” You look up at him sadly, “I tripped in the parking lot carrying my groceries. It’s on camera and everything, I want to die.”

Jeongguk pokes the inside of his mouth to resist laughing. “Well, fuck. That’s your leg ruined.”

“I know,” you pout. “Good thing you’re my sugar daddy- wanna pay for cosmetic leg surgery?”

“I like your bruised up legs,” says Jeongguk.

“Me too, but not these ones.”

“Bruh, that’s enough cream on your skin,” Jeongguk exclaims, moving forward to snatch the cream from your hands. “More is not better. Come on, you’re okay.”

“It hurts.”

“Boohoo,” he sighs. You don’t move. “Ugh, whatever. Come’re.”

Jeongguk drops the cream tube onto the sink but it clatters into the bowl. He’ll move it later if he remembers to, and he pretends it’s hard to pick you up off the bathtub and carries you swiftly out of the bathroom and into the living room. Things have barely moved since he last came to visit; the swarms of paper still invade your coffee table and your laptop is on sleep mode by a half-empty coffee cup filled with hot chocolate, because he knows your standing on coffee. Everything is a lot messier now that you’ve decided you want to go back to school, but at least Jeongguk knows it keeps you busy when he’s away.

“Oh,” he says suddenly, as you’re sat down with one leg up around him still. He pokes at a spot on your leg and you squirm, “there’s another one.”

You peer to look, “Oh, yeah, that one’s you.”

“Oh.” He pauses, “Pretty, though.”

You huff like a little baby and he dares you with raised eyebrows. That keeps you silent and Jeongguk moves his body at an angle to the right, sweeping to kiss the bruise better, the bruise that he made a few nights ago with tender love and care.

“All better,” he assures.

“It feels better already.”

“Mm. Magic.”

(8) Buying them something unrequested because it made you think of them.

“So, I was at a school fayre today.”

“Really?” Jeongguk sits with his laptop on his legs, and your legs are tangled around his body like some sort of jungle maze. He rarely works on his bed, not unless the work is sudden and he can’t help it. You’ve just come in, dived on the bed and claimed his waist as something to squeeze your legs around.

“Yep. Like, one of those little craft things where students sell their shit and make money from it. You know, supporting local artists! It’s really cute, if I was good at something I’d have participated.”

Jeongguk thinks of things you’re good at, and there’s a lot. “Aw. There’s always next year.”

“Yeah,” you reason. “Anyway- point is, is that I got you something.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, glancing over his right shoulder to see you, “Me?”

“Yep. You.”

“What did you get?” he asks, and then he’s back to checking blueprints.

You untangle your legs and slide off the bed, retreating to your bag slung across the room by the bedroom door. From here, you take out a small little pin-badge and when you’re sat next to Jeongguk again, you fiddle with it until it catches his attention.

“What’s this?” asks Jeongguk.

“It’s a badge of honour,” you claim, and you slip it into his palms. He fingers the front when he examines it, reading the little words of “Number One Dad” and he stares up at you. “Like it?”

“It’s for me?” he asks again.

“Yeah. You can wear it and like, I don’t know, think of me,” you shrug.

Jeongguk thinks for a moment. Even though it’s stupid, and cliche and a little bit embarrassing, he still thinks it’s funny and thoughtful.

“Want me to wear it to work?” he asks you.

“Oh, absolutely,” you encourage. “I’ll get Taehyung an uncle badge if he gets pissy.”

“Hey, you’re mine and he’s not allowed a relationship to you, no matter what definition,” Jeongguk pouts. “He wants a sugar niece, well...he’ll have to look somewhere else.”

You gape. “Wow. Who thought you had it in you to be so possessive.”

“Please, with a pussy like that of course I’m possessive,” he teases. He’s joking.

“My power,” you sigh anyway, and jump off the bed claiming that you’re hungry. Jeongguk looks at the badge again and pops it in his breast pocket before he loses it and regrets it.

(9) Participating in their hobby even if it doesn’t personally interest you.

Jeongguk’s bored out of his brain.

He has no idea how you can be so fascinated by this stupid game where you’re essentially in debt, but he still sits and watches you tour him around this weird island that is inhabited by ducks and an ugly gorilla villager dressed in pink. And to think that he had a part to play in all of this, because his bank account definitely helped pay for this Nintendo Switch and game.

“Do you like my beach?” you ask him. It’s literally just sand and one coconut tree, and a few shells by the water. Oh, there’s a beach chair on there too, but it makes little difference. “I’m poor, I can’t afford furniture yet.”

“Can’t you just make it?”

“I can, but I’m sick of making axes to collect wood,” you explain with a grudge against the fact that tools now break in this Animal Crossing game. Jeongguk hums like he’s invested, and he tries to be, because he cares about you too much to unintentionally hurt your feelings by displaying his crippling disinterest.

“Oh. Makes sense.”

“Can I show you my hybrid flower garden?”

He sighs. “Yeah, you wanted to show me all of your island, right?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Once you’ve had a tour, I can make you a profile and you can play too. You can live next door to me!”

“Why can’t we share a house?” Jeongguk presses.

“Because I don’t think it works like that, babe,” you confess. “Anyway. Here’s my garden.”

(10) Sitting in comfortable silence while eating a meal.

He’s tired. You’re tired.

The radio plays quietly updating Seoul on the fires that spread across the city today, and Jeongguk smells like smoke and salt. He keeps his head down as he eats his meal, something he brought home with him to make up for the fact that he’s been absent for almost a week now. You have so many things to say and he has so many things he needs to say to make up for everything, but nothing is said tonight.

You know he’s having a hard time, because Jeongguk’s been smoking again. He smoked on the balcony earlier, and once again in the bedroom. There are now ashtrays around your own apartment, and you don’t even smoke. Jeongguk takes a drink of bourbon and swallows it dry.

You look up at him from across the table, not wanting to press the issue when you know it’ll end in an argument, and then sex to make up for it. You’re both too tired to fuck today, too tired to speak. Just being in each other's company is enough for tonight. The only words he says are goodnight and something you don’t catch as you’re drifting off to sleep. Jeongguk’s awake all night, the fires burn until early hours, and the smoke smell is still there in the morning even when he isn’t.

[shanardo13]

Mclennon Fanfic Idea (AU)

Paul is a recovered alcoholic. Fairly recent, probably something like four of five years sober. It’s a HUGE accomplishment.

He’s 38 btw.

He has three kids: Mary, Stella and James. Mary is 16, Stella is 14 and James is 7.

He was married to Linda, but was widowed after she got into a car accident. The man who caused the accident was driving while intoxicated. She was on her way to pick up the kids from school, something Paul was supposed to have done but hadn’t because he was too busy drinking his worries away. He feels incredibly guilty about it and believes it should have been him.

It was this accident that turned him to sobriety. He realized he needed to be there for his kids, now more than ever. He also sympathized with the man who caused the accident as it could have just as easily been Paul, thus further encouraging him to become sober. He feels even more guilt for sympathizing.

Paul is a detective. It was this job that lead him to alcohol in the first place. He couldn’t deal with the horrible things he saw every day, and so he drowned his sorrows in booze.

His partner is detective Harrison. Harrison is quite the party animal. They hang out quite frequently. George invites Paul to parties. Paul is George’s DD.

George invites Paul to one of his parties, and Paul feels incredibly out of place as everyone is much younger than him. George is quite a bit younger, so it makes sense. He also feels weird because of all of the temptations.

George is nowhere to be seen. Paul is approached by a woman with red hair, trying to make him have a drink. He’s extremely attracted to her but doesn’t want to break his sobriety. The woman is very insistent and Paul almost caves until they’re interrupted.

“Get lost, Jane.” A gruff voice is heard. Paul looks up and is met with possibly the most handsome face he has ever laid eyes on. It’s John. Jane leaves.

John is 21. He’s dressed in very tight pants, a sparkly vest with no shirt underneath and he’s wearing equally as sparkly make up. Paul has never seen anyone look more beautiful in his life.

They introduce each other. “You a friend of Bill W’s then?” John says, asking Paul if he’s an alcoholic. Paul nods. “You too then?” He asks. John shakes his head. “Nah I just know the type.”

John invites Paul to leave and get a cup of coffee with him. Paul agrees but is very hesitant. He can tell john is much younger than him, and he hasn’t been laid in so long, he’s afraid he may not be able to control himself.

They step outside and it’s freezing. John is only wearing the vest so Paul gives him his jacket. They walk to a small cafe down the road.

They go inside and order some coffees, sharing funny stories and more casual information about each other.

Paul can’t take it and he finally addresses the elephant in the room, asking John how old he is. John lies. “I’m 35.” Paul looks at him as if he has two heads. He’s clearly not that old. “30?” He tries again, trying to be more convincing. Paul still isn’t convinced. “Fine I’m 21” he let’s out a sigh. John knows that once Paul knows his age, it’s game over.

John stares at Paul, waiting for an answer. He doesn’t get one. Paul is silent, looking at johns coffee, blank faced. He feels disgusted in himself because his first thought once John reveals his age is “well, you’re legal.”

John awkwardly leaves, giving Paul his jacket and stumbling out. He feels embarrassed. He wasn’t sure what his intention was, but Paul’s reaction wasn’t what he had wanted.

Paul feels like a jerk and goes home, going to bed around 3:00 am.

James wakes him up the next morning, jumping on him. Paul manages to score a little more sleep, telling James he’ll take them out for breakfast if he lets dad sleep for one more hour.

James wakes Paul again exactly an hour later. Paul gets up and they all get ready to leave. On their way out the door, Mary Accuses Paul of breaking his sobriety the night before, asking him if he’s hung over. She constantly worries about her dad drinking again, as she remembers how awful it was before. Paul assures her he hasn’t, and they leave.

Not really having a plan in his head as to where he’s taking his kids for breakfast, Paul ends up going back to the cafe from the night before.

Who is there waiter but John Lennon himself. Paul didn’t know John worked there. He hadn’t mentioned it earlier.

The whole situation is kind of awkward. They manage to make it through.

As they’re leaving, Paul tells his kids to meet him in the car and he goes up to John, apologizing for the previous night. He explained that he was an idiot and that John seemed really cool. He suggests they should hang out and be friends. John accepts his apology and they exchange cell numbers.

They begin hanging out occasionally. John comes over for pizza and hangs with the fam jam. Sometimes Paul goes to the cafe for lunch when he’s working. They get to know each other and become good friends.

It gets to the point where John is basically always at Paul’s house, hanging out with him and sometimes even just hanging out with the kids.

Paul feels lonely and decides to get back in the dating game. This is difficult for him. It is the first time he’s been on a date (unless you count the awkward coffee night with John) since Linda passed. He goes on a few dates. None of them are outrageously bad. They’re just not good. Not what he’s looking for.

Finally, Paul meets a man who he thinks might be the one. He’s a lawyer working one of the same cases as Paul. He asks Paul out, and Paul agrees. He goes home and tells John. John acts excited and happy for him, but he feels sick. Paul asks John to watch over his kids, and John agrees. They’re old enough to not have a babysitter, but Paul feels better with John around.

The date goes kinda bad. It was super boring if you ask Paul. He was hoping for more. He gets home and the kids are asleep and John is curled up under a blanket on his couch. As soon as Paul walks in, John shoots up with messy hair and asks Paul how his date went.

Paul walks over to the sofa, plopping himself beside John. “Kinda shitty.”he shrugs, taking his jacket off. “I’m just tired of all of these shit dates, John. It’s not fair. I know I’m a fuck up, but I deserve some sort of happy ending.” He says. John frowns and tells Paul he’s sorry. He wraps his arm around Paul, and the man rests his head on Johns shoulder. John continues to watch his program, his fingers raking through Paul’s hair, a huge smile on his face. He wasn’t sorry at all. They fall asleep like this.

George goes to Paul’s house the next morning to pick him up for work. When no one answers the door he invites himself in and finds John sleeping on Paul. He wakes them and awkwardness ensues. Paul scrambles around his house, getting ready for work. John leaves, muttering some lame excuse.

George and Paul go to work and the entire day George harasses Paul about John. “Do you like him?” “Does he like you?” “Are you dating?” “Isn’t he a little young?”. Paul wishes George would shut the fuck up.

Paul oblivious McCartney does not see it. “We’re just friends. That’s all. John knows that.”

Ahhhh that’s all I have for now! I need to finish the idea, but I don’t want to force it right now. What do you guys think? Be honest.

[sharkmobster]

spider verse coffee shop au??

Anon im sorry i wanted to draw the coffeeshop au but ive been so tired lately so imma just overshare about what goes down bc this au is just (thick tombstone voice) : “everybody’s traumatized bitch lets get you a latte”

 • this au is incredibly villain centric bc uhhhhh all i do is think about villains

 • its also very aaron davis centric bc time to project my anxiety onto a grown ass man babey!!

 • anyway this takes place in a normal world where there’s no superheros or avengers or what have you, everyone’s super average 

• like i said this is more or less aaron centric and focuses on him readjusting to society and making connections with other people, and just healing in general. Aaron’s whole deal is that he was wrongfully arrested for defending himself against an off duty cop who was harassing him and ended up with a 10 year sentence  (but was let off a year earlier for good behaviour). He’s got a lot of guilt bc of this if only for the fact that he feels like he let down his brother and Miles (who was a small lad at the time).

 • Fun Fact! Jefferson was the one that picked up Aaron at the jail when he served out his sentence! The ride back to brooklyn was awkward! but also jefferson loves his brother and even tho they’ve had their falling outs he never once stopped believing that his brother was innocent. Jefferson also made sure to pull some strings and ended up getting an apartment set up for Aaron (even though jefferson and rio were 100% down to open their home to him for as long as it took him to get back onto his feet but of course aaron denied them bc he didnt want to be a burden) Aaron’s grateful but he tends to avoid his own family…a lot….

• it’s ridiculously hard to find a job bc nobody wants to hire an ex convict no matter the circumstances and Aaron’s legitimately about to lose hope when he spots an expensive looking shop nestled in between an old arcade and a knick knack shop

 • ‘Vanessa’s Cafe’ is neatly printed above the door in fancy gold lettering. it’s obvious that the owner has serious cash bc the shop looks too damn good and too well maintained to be a regular mom and pop shop. there’s a help wanted sign hastily scribbled on a piece of notebook paper in the middle of the window which is odd since it off sets the professional vibe of the place. But hey it’s worth a shot so Aaron walks in ready to be denied another job only to find the weirdest looking group of people he’s ever seen.

 • The first guy that catches his attention is the very large albino man who looks way too stressed out and manic to be working in a coffeeshop, but the job must pay well because he’s very well dressed.

 • “Liv, for fuck’s sake! Clean your goddamn station!” he’s whisper shouting? Is that even a thing? oh look at that he’s got a full set of razor sharp teeth. huh. that’s a hell of an aesthetic he’s going for.

 • The lady in question isn’t even giving him the time of day, just enthralled by her phone with a smile that looks too peaceful given what’s happening around her. She’s got wild hair tied up messily in a knitted bandana, weird glasses (custom made??) and when she glances up at aaron, her eyes widen in interest like he’s some anomaly to be cracked open. aaron looks anywhere that isnt the wild eyed lady at the counter.

• Theres another big guy that’s hanging around the back, heavily tattooed and lifting stacks of heavy boxes. Aaron takes notice of his prosthetic hand and the tattoo guy takes notice of Aaron. 

• “Lonnie. Customer.” The Tattoo guy seems nonplussed about Aaron and walks into the back. aaron assumes that he’s offended him by staring at his prosthetic for longer than necessary which yeah….yeah he’s probably not happy about the staring. 

 • lonnie’s got a bad case of resting bitch face so he’s glaring at aaron without actually glaring and he’s just rough around ALL the edges so his tones got that nice bite to it as he shouts from across the counter (which is not something you do to a customer but it’s lonnie…..)  "Hey! Ya looking for a job, skinny jeans?!“

 • Aaron blanches at the idea of working with these people but he is absolutely desperate for a job at this point.

 •"Yeah. I just got out of-”

 •"Great, you’re hired! We’re speed running this whole introduction thing, string bean.“

 •and that’s all i got other than like small details like:

 •Peter B Parker owns a ”“’'cafe”“” across from Vanessa’s and its literally just a burger joint that h a p p e n s to sell coffee and Parker will fight you if you call his place a deli ahdhdj

 •Liv and May are dating (big shock) and peter b has to constantly deal with seeing his competition over at his place all the time and it’s yikes

 • Tombstone and Noir will 100% throw hands on contact. They don’t hate each other tho??? Its weird they just like to fight. gives them a chance to work on their banter i guess. Noir works the coffee machine at Peter’s “'cafe”’ so i guess he’s the “”barista”” of the joint but he drinks the coffee more than the customers do

 • Miles and the rest of the spider kids “”“”“"intern”“”“” at the cafe which basically translates to free labor

 •  spider ham works there but he isnt a pig he’s just john mulaney. i know its weird. nobody actually sees him tho so he’s a complete mystery as to what he looks like so he could be john mulaney you never know. the only person who’s seen him is noir and that’s only bc they’re  a thing???

 •oh speaking of everyone being gay:  everyone’s gay

 • Lonnie and Gargan (tombstone and scorpion) are 100% dating but everyone legitimately thinks that the both of them are straight old men despite the fact that they live together, go to work together, hang out afterwards together, and they’re just always together

 • lonnie’s  daughter (janice)  visits every other week (def the product of a divorce he went through years ago) she’s alright with gargan but she’s very distant towards her dad and def has that teen angst phase that she’s going through

 • (lonnie can and will talk to you for hours about how much he loves and supports his daughter despite the fact that their relationship is very estranged)

 • you can find janice hanging out with the cute blond punk girl at that weird burger/coffee place across the street

 • oh gargan’s big and strong despite the fact that he’s missing three limbs, liv works in robotics on the side and constantly tweaks and repairs his prosthetics when they start acting up which leads to them having this weird friendship where they both borrow each other when they need something and dont really expect anything in return (like gargan’s good for getting her supplies and doing heavy lifting when she needs it and liv’s always down to run check ups on gargan)

 • oh yeah liv used to be a scientist but immediately lost her license and phd when she started going above some board members heads to buy less than legal things through super illegal sources

.• that’s another thing, kingpin tends to just hire ex cons and criminals to work in his cafe just bc he believes that a person willing to work hard to better themselves deserves a chance to re enter society again.

 • like they’ve all done bad things but still ended up with a job at the cafe. aaron fought a cop, liv did some shady deals for an illegal experiment, gargan used to run a drug ring years ago due to personal reasons but once he was free from jail he never dealt with the stuff again, and lonnie killed a dude (allegedly. he never went to jail bc they couldn’t prove anything but hey word spread around quick and everyone knew not to go anywhere near this guy)

 • kingpin is in this au btw he’s just……a very depressed man who’s still grieving over his wife and son dying in a car accident

.• he rarely shows up to run the cafe bc its too much for him being in the place that his wife loved and built up from the ground. he used to be the manager after she died but couldn’t handle it and mostly left lonnie to take care of it

• which holy fuck lonnie is trying his best to keep this cafe alive and well and there’s only two other people working there so like its enough to have him scrambling all over the place trying to find more help (thanks aaron)

 •miles doesn’t know aaron’s working at the cafe across the street and aaron def wants it that way bc even tho he’s out of jail he hasn’t actually……visited miles yet….. it’s the shame that’s keeping aaron from reaching out to him which is….sad bc miles doesn’t care what happened he just wants his uncle back.

 • oh oh one more thing RIPeter used to run the deli across the street but had to leave brooklyn to go volunteer at homeless shelters across the states indefinitely so theres no telling when he’ll be back, so he left the cafe under the guidance of pb parker (peter b parker voice: my cafe now)

 •and uhhh thats all i got, like i said this au is just found family trope + the healing we all want + bad people getting redemption which is all the tropes that i love all compacted together in the most cliche au you can imagine!

[lady-dinah]

Jason Todd’s Redemption Arc, cuz DC sucks shit and can’t write a proper Jason Todd story so I guess I’ll have to do it

So after watching John Wick again, binging Chicago Med, and ranting about the shit storm L*bdell has done to Jason Todd. I have decided that is time to give Jason to justice that he deserves, since fucking DC just wants to keep him as an angsty boy who just cries over being the black sheep of the family and then just shoots ppl (and not even really shooting, more like arguing with Bruce about it)

Anyways welcome to my version of Jason Todd’s “redemption arc”. Cuz if DC ain't gonna treat him right, then bitch i will (btw this will be like a mix of headcanon/rants so bare with me)

PART 1: FIGHT STYLE 

First of all, lets clear some shit up. Jason Peter Todd is BAMF. Meaning he does not fight like some random ass gangster from crime alley, Where he just walks into a building, guns blazing and then that's that. Also most of Jason’s gun have silencers on them (like fite me on this). 

Jason was raised by THE DETECTIVE and the LEAGUE OF ASSASSINS!!! MEANING HE’S STEALTHY AND TACTILE AFFFFF!! He’ll take out his enemies before they know what him ‘em. I like to imagine his fighting style is similar to that of John Wicks, in the sense that it’s more stealth and being strategic. Yeah Jason is more bulky, but that doesn’t stop batman, so why tf would it stop Jason?? Like Batman, Jason is someone who plans his attacks, and makes sure he gets who he wants when he wants. He’s not that impulsive freak where DC makes him to be, where he just shoots everyone, announces his presence and then gets his ass beat by batman after

No, Jason would get into the building, eliminate all the guards and the crime bosses or whatever. And Bruce would find out about this when he's sippin’ his coffee, reading the Sunday morning paper, while the front page is about some rival gang that have gone missing, and all human trafficked victims were found safe at the Gotham Hospital.

PART 2: REPUTATION 

Second, Jason does a lot of undercover work. He runs and knowns the underground of Crime Alley. Everyone thinks he’s trying to monopolize all of the crime businesses, when in reality, he’s going to get rid of it. My boi Jason has an A LEVEL reputation okay. Again, frieken John Wick level reputation, like “I saw him kill a man with a pencil” kind of reputation. He also has his own contacts and networks. He’s knowns all the ins and outs of the black market, more so first hand than batman or the other batkids.

PART 3: CIVILIAN IDENTITY 

Third, Jason deserves a civilian identity. Literally everyone has or had one, but Jason. Dick got to be an officer, Tim is literally a frieken CEO, even Damian at least got some school identity out here. (Cass is doing ballet, Steph also went to school, Barbara was a librarian and I don’t know wtf she’s going in rebirth but she still got a civilian identity, Duke even has friends outside his hero persona) 

So in this redemption arc, Jason is going to be an ER doctor. My boi gonna be slayin bad guys at nights, and then saving lives in the morning. But think about it,  Medic!Jason helping lower class Gotham patients even when there aren’t insured. He volunteers his time to go to crime alley and run free diagnosis's  and provides free medication. Not to mention Jason having to attend charity functions for the hospital, seeing the batfam there, and pretending he’s not associated with them, even though Bruce Wayne keeps coming up to talk him, or fix his tie, or ruffle his hair (Batdad is just happy that one of kids followed in Thomas’s footsteps). And all of Jason’s co-workers are just weirded about by this.

OMG JASON HAVING CIVILIAN FRIENDS!! LIKE WOW!! Women and men having crushes on him. An online forum even said that Jason is known to be the 2nd best doctor (Leslie is #1 obvi) and the #1 hottest.

PART 4: RELATIONSHIPS 

Now the final piece of my Jason redemption arc is his relationship with the batfam. So I hate how in the new52 DC tried to shove Jason down our throats as being the edgy cool older bro, and now in rebirth he's the typical black sheep and all he wants to do it be accepted by his family.

Yeah, well, fuck that.

In this, Jason relationship with his family is complicated as it should be. Does he actively go out and try to hurt them? No. Does he ask for their help? Maybe once in a while. Will he help them if they need it? Probably, they are family after all, but as soon as the job as done he’s out.

The thing with redemption arc’s is that its a two way relationship. Jason can’t just be hanging out with the family all the time while they treat him like trash or Bruce just constantly criticizes him. In this arc, it’s more about the family seeking out Jason. Since Jason is doing better for himself, i think his family would see that and begin the first steps to reach out to him. Then in return Jason begins his journey to join them again. Don’t get me wrong, no one is perfect in the batfam. Jason has literally attacked all the batkids so it would make sense for them to be wary of him. But at the same time the batfam have also betrayed Jason many times, so Jason would probably be fed up with how he’s been treated and would want to MOVE ON!!!

PART 5: MORALITY 

I guess one last thing to note is his moral code. I mean it’s no surprise that Jason is basically in the grey zone when it comes to that. The thing is, although I understand why Jason would slowly ease of killing (cuz he still wants to respect his families wishes, even though he doesn’t agree with them), I think he wouldn’t have that ‘martyr’ mentality like the rest of the bat family has. For instance, if there was a building on fire and they were civilians and criminals inside. The batfamily would most likely save as many lives as possible, no matter who it is, while Jason would just save the civilians. Even though he could potentially save the criminals, he wouldn't want too. Similarly he’s not gonna shoot every thug or gang member he sees, most likely knock em out, hurt them enough that they wouldn’t be in his way. But with the crime bosses, Jason may not kill, but he could paralyze, could disable them, send them into a coma. Making it seem that maybe the ‘no killing rule’, isn't so merciful, which is all the more scary.

END: OR IS IT?

In the end I’m probably gonna write more stories or headcanons with this AU, cuz Jason Todd deserves to be written well. Like at this point I take fanfiction into headcanon, cuz fanfic writers actually understand Jason more than DC does. Let me know what you all think.

[hotsexydorks]

hi there, im the guy that wrote the 3 prompts, fucking loved them btw. I think i have a way to extend the last one and maybe another idea?, 1) sheriff fucking stiles tells him to take off the blindfold, hes kinda freaked out but to addicted to0 his dads cock to do anything but ask for more, sheriff ends up whoreing stiles out in either a gangbang or just a regular pack bitch kind of thing. 2) one of the alphas (scott,peter or derek) sweat becomes super aphrodesiac for the pacl and licking them

First of all, how dare you :P . Second of all, glad you like them. 

1) Sheriff fucking stiles tells him to take off the blindfold, hes kinda freaked out but to addicted too his dads cock to do anything but ask for more, sheriff ends up whoreing stiles out in either a gangbang or just a regular pack bitch kind of thing. 

Hey pt 2 : Sheriff / Stiles

From that day John started growing bolder, his attitude growing stronger and his power over Stiles taking over. He should have been deleting everything and drinking himself into a stupor to try forget it all but he wasn’t. He wanted more. 

As their relationship went on Stiles started to divulge to the older male how much he wanted this to be real. How their conversations and interactions were enjoyable and how he kept thinking about him and his dick even while he was hooking up with other men. He told him none of them ever came close and that he had made the decision that his dick was perfect. 

That night John popped a viagra, not that he needed it, put on a cock ring and fucked Stiles harder than he had. Claim the boy as his own and showing Stiles how he truly had the perfect cock for him. He managed to fuck Stiles into a mess, he was just a bundle of limbs by the end of it his body left in any position John had wanted him in. When he stopped it was now morning at a Monday morning at that. He looked at his watch seeing that Stiles’ alarm would be going off soon he darted out of the room and into his car in hopes to make it home before his son. 

He had been so caught up in fucking the boy’s hole he didn’t pay attention to the time. John had barely had time to make his coffee once he got back, dressed down into his robe and underwear sitting at the table when Stiles came through. John wondered how often Stiles did this because he didn’t even hear his son come home or even through the front door. 

“Good morning.” John spoke up from his morning paper. He looked up at saw his son struggling to move doing his best to hide the effects of last night. The red marks, the bites, his writing. But more than that he could see the cum in Stiles’s hair, so if his son hadn’t cleaned his hair he doubted he had cleaned his ass after it. That’s when John realised his cock was still painfully hard and leaking from the viagra he took earlier. He shifted his body further under the table to hide it so his son couldn’t see. 

“..Morning..” Stiles yawned , which probably wasn’t faked following his time last night. He turned on the coffee pot and started to make coffee for the two of them. 

“Late night?” John asked him, like any caring father would. 

“Yeah.. stayed up ramming stuff into me for a mid term.” Stiles nodded his fingers drumming on the surface of the counter as he looked at his phone. Anxiously waiting for his Daddy to text him. He bit his lip debating with himself if he should send a text first, usually it didn’t bother him but after what he had said he was worried he drove him away. 

He poured out the coffee and handed one to his father not noticing his strange position at the table for an early morning read. With the first sip of his coffee he had made up his mind. Stiles went back to his room, pulling out his phone and found his Daddy’s number. 

“Hey Daddy, last night was awesome. When are you going fuck my hole again? My sloppy cunt is so needy right now, I didn’t get a chance to clean your cum out so I just had to use a butt plug to keep all your cum in.” 

John was a smart man, when Stiles insisted they swap numbers he was sure to get a second phone for just their escapades. So when he felt the phone beep in his pocket he smirked looking up to where Stiles’ room was. 

“Oh that needy already baby boy? How about this, you be a good boy and do everything I tell you today and I’ll make sure you get the best present you could ever wish for.” 

“Anything, name it ;)” Even with the flirty nature of it Stiles was ready for it, his hole already trying to use the plug to satiate the hunger.

“Good boy.” John smirked in the phone pushing it quickly away as he stood up his cock hitting the table. “Hey kiddo! You’re going to be late!” 

~~~ 

John texted Stiles throughout the day, teasing the boy with pictures of his cock, and giving him things to do and Stiles did them all. Take a picture in the bathroom stall stroking his cock; done, go to school commando; done, stroke himself during class under the table; done. John was happy seeing how obedient his boy was. For Stiles’ final task he told his son to take out the plug that had been holding back the cum he had left there and to let the cum drip from his ass as he walked out to be collected. 

Stiles was fidgeter than ever and his face was red while he did it but eventually his ass let the plug out with a loud pop and he was walking out to meet his father in the parking lot. 

The ride back was a battle of who could act the most normal, Stiles with the loads leaking from his ass or John knowing his son was his whore. 

Either way they got back and Stiles ran out of the car and up to his room texting his Daddy. 

“I did it Daddy, on please tell me what’s my reward “ Stiles sent the male a text with a picture of his ass still leaking the cum. 

“Wait until tonight, send me your address, leave your door open and be in position tonight at 1 am.” 

Stiles gulped looking at the message he knew he shouldn’t, they hadn’t anytime before but he was too horny to say no, too addicted to the cock to lose it. 

~~~

He did as John asked, going around the house and getting it already. Stiles had told the male that he was only allowed into his room and that’s it. So Stiles marked him a path and waited in his position where John came in. 

John saw his son, his little slut, with his ass up naked and his blindfold on. He made his presence known by walking forward and caressing Stiles’ ass. “What a good little slut boy you’ve been for me today.” 

Stiles moaned, nodding. “Yes Daddy!!” Knowing that his father left hours ago he didn’t hold back his voice. “Please fuck me Daddy!” 

“Oh I will baby boy, but first you deserve a your treat don’t you Stiles.” John said his sons name for the first time like this. His name feeling dirty on his tongue even as his son. 

“Yes Daddy!” Crap. Stiles thought he’d left one of his books out with his name, but even though he should have been scared he was turned on. “Fuck me first!!” He reached behind him, hooking his fingers at his hole and spreading it for the man like how he liked. 

John didn’t need more of an invitation, he slammed his cock in to Stiles’ ass and started to pound at his son’s hole. It didn’t take long for Stiles to turn back into the drool mess he was on John’s cock. His thick cock punched his hole over and over again, his hands smacking his cheeks turning them red. He was sure now was the time, all vulnerable and begging for cock.

“Time for you surprise kid.”  John pulled off the blind fold. By now he had turned Stiles on to his back, fucking him from above. 

It took Stiles a moment before he realised what was happening. He opened his eyes slowly the cock making his body feel light and loose like it always did, but when he saw the man’s face he’s body was confused. “DAD!?” Stiles shouted his body trying to move away but only pushing John against him harder. He could feel his balls pulling up and he was grabbing the base of his cock to try stop himself. This was wrong. So, so wrong. “STOP! DAD! PLEASE!! W-what are you..” Stiles sobbed as the pressure continued to build and with his hands stopping himself he just rode the line of orgasm. He rode the line on his father’s cock, a cock that was making his body tingle and his toes curl in pleasure.  

“ooo-ooo-mmmmhmmh-aaah!!” Stiles couldn’t rationalise it. He couldn’t think anymore about it, his body belonged to his father, it had for months and now he knew it. “ I’m cumming!” Stiles chanted repeatedly, his body shaking through it. 

John on the other hand was loving it, he could see the look in his sons eyes shift from euphoria to terror and then to something beyond euphoria as if he were experiencing all the splendours of the earth. “That’s it slut, cum on your Daddy’s cock.” 

Stiles covered himself in his own cum, reaching up to his face he panted reaching down to his ass without missing a beat. “Fuck me Daddy, keep fucking me!!” He laughed, there wasn’t anything else he could do but love his father’s fucking and laugh at his own sluttiness. 

John smirked leaning down as he fucked his own son. “You’re gonna take every cock I tell you too, even when I whore you out to your friends.”

2) One of the alphas (scott,peter or derek) sweat becomes super aphrodisiac for the pack and licking them

Gonna go with Scott cause I wanted to do a different take on this one.

Workout Buzz : Scott/Liam/Derek/Deaton

Scott had finished up coaching for the day, he sent the players home and he looked around the room remembering the fond memories he had of this place. All the things the pack got up to how they all met. It rushed back to him, he didn’t have time to think about it since he had become so busy with the job but now that there was some down time he took that moment. 

The lockers they used, the games they played it all was in here. He stroked his hand against the machines in the gym and shrugged, why not use the equipment that was here. Scott hadn’t worked out in a while so it would probably do him some god.

He hopped on to the treadmill to get some warmup cardio going before he moved over to some weighted machines working his legs and then his arms. By the time Scott was feeling tired his clothes had soaked through and his sweat rolling down his body, face, arms, everything. Engrossed by his workout Scott hadn’t heard his phone ring, or even notice Liam coming in until he spoke. 

“Hey.. could I get a lift? Stiles said he’s busy right now.” Liam fixed his bag on his shoulder, since Scott had started as their coach it had been a weird transition for him. They were friends, he was his alpha, but he couldn’t let interfere with Lacrosse or the team. He knew people would be all too happy to call favouritism. 

Scott whipped his head around nodding. “Sure, let me just dry off and I’ll dive you.” He smiled at his beta as he got up. The alpha approached his beta and collected his sweat in his hands, shaking it at the younger male to tease him. Being playful with Liam since he had been serious with him all the other times they had been together because of the company. 

“H-hey cut it out Scott” Liam laughed weakly as he tried to bat Scott’s arms and body away but in doing so he set his own fate. The sweat wasn’t just sweat it was more, the closer it got the more he thought it smelt good. When it touched his skin he felt the urge to lick it, to taste it. Even as Scott walked away laughing the thoughts still lingered, he didn’t know why. Why sweat, or even, a guy. 

Liam glanced up seeing Scott round the corner he licked his arm where some of the sweat had landed and his body shook. He felt fireworks and sparks fly through him. He wanted more. He had just found the best high in the world and he wanted it again. Liam blushed his inhibitions being melted away from the intensity of Scott’s scent in the room he had just been working out in.

Scott was still out of view and Liam didn’t know what to do. His sense were being assaulted and all his body was telling him was that he needed it again. The rush calling to him, the scent pulling him in. Liam ended up at bench Scott had sweat at and found his tongue pressed flat against the fabric licking of the male’s scent and moaning as his shorts tented from just Scott’s sweat, the sweet nectar as far as Liam was now concerned.

But it wan’t enough. Liam got up his eyes shining and hungry. He moved swiftly to where Scott was finding spare clothes and a towel and he pulled the towel away from Scott , leaning into lick at his neck. Liam shuddered again the feeling of it from Scott’s skin making it ten times better to him, he couldn’t hold back the moan. He licked up to Scott’s jaw and back again trying to take more. 

Scott jolted forward when he realised what was happening, that wasn’t water going at his neck that was Liam’s tongue. He shoved Liam back and on to the ground as his hand ghosted over where Liam was just touching is shock. “LIAM!? What the h-” Scott couldn’t even finish his word when he saw what Liam was doing. The blonde jock was flat on his ass hand down his pants and jerking off.

“Fuckkk Scott you’re so hot!! Pleaseee!! Let me lick you!” The young beta crept forward trying to get more. Scott pushed Liam back not wanting to hurt him he hurled him towards the matts and Scott barely had time to grab his phone before he made it out.  

He ran from the school into the trees, running until he hit the preserve. His ears all the time listening behind him, Liam was still back at the school and he was away from him. He needed to find out what this was and fast. Scott looked out from the clearing and saw the old Hale house, he knew Derek would be there trying to get estimates for the renovation; maybe he knew. 

By the time Scott got to the land he was sweating again, his run making him exhausted and breathless. The alpha was hunched over trying to catch his breath again.

“Scott??” Derek appeared from behind Scott, coming from his camaro he reached out to the other wolf touching his back. “You okay Scott? What’s wrong?” He asked him but the touch was all it took. 

The moment Derek reached Scott the alluring waft of Scott’s sweat reached his nose. The tantalising liquid on his hand beckoning him to taste it, pulling him in deeper. Derek tried to fight it, but the struggle only made it more enticing. The taboo nature of it , his body fighting it only made his mind start to want it more. The dark haired wolf bit his lip as Scott spoke. 

“No…” He huffed almost between each word trying to get his breath back. “Liam.. he… locker room…. lick…” Scott had his eyes shut trying to recall everything and trying to keep his balance so the world would stop spinning from his run. 

Derek let Scott speak of course, but it wasn’t like he was listening very much anyways. Derek was already on his knees behind Scott his face mere inches from Scott’s musky balls and crack. His nose being assaulted and his body on fire. Even Derek who would have been a strict top or even just strictly straight for that matter couldn’t stop his mind from wondering how Scott taste. Not even wondering knowing that Scott would taste like heaven. He wanted to stick his face into the other’s round ass and rim the male and slobber over his balls, and what Derek wanted he was going to get. 

He leaned in planting his face into Scott’s ass he held Scott’s hips and inhaled deeply with a smile and groan. Enjoying every single second of it he fought against Scott’s struggles to move. “Fuck Scott… you smile.. amazing…” Derek moaned while he worked his face deeper his nose sinking into the other’s crack to smell him. 

Scott struggled and kicked back horrified that this was happening again. This wasn’t supposed to happen, whatever this was. He yelled at the other. “DEREK! NO!” He scrambled backwards on his hands and jumped to his feet. Maybe this was a wolf thing, maybe Deaton could help. Scott pulled out his phone as he tried to shake Derek off he called the vet and let a frantic message about Liam and Derek going crazy which he dodged the wolf and side stepped the trees to make sure he didn’t trip on his journey. 

When he got to the clinic he ran in the back entrance and grabbed on to the table for support. After working out, running from Liam and now running from Derek, his body was burning and aching for release. He panted and made sure he kept a distance from Deaton not knowing what would happen. 

When Deaton came in he started to explain what had happened, how Liam just went crazy and then went he went to Derek for help he did the same thing and he didn’t know what was happening or why. 

All the time Deaton listened he was being affected, although Scott was right about one thing; it was a wolf thing. His scent, his sweat, his musk. It was addictive and mind changing. It affected the wolves because of their higher senses but with Alan and Scott being in the same room and Scott now dripping even more he was hot-boxing the vet. 

“Alright.. Hope on the table and i’ll see if I can find something to solve the problem.” Deaton turned around and started to move around the cabinets. 

Scott nodded, trusting the male as he got on the table and lay down. It wasn’t unusual for him with Deaton so he didn’t have any reason not to, at least it wasn’t until he felt a sharp pain. Scott looked down but it was too late. All he saw was Deaton moving a knife away from Scott’s leg; kanima venom. 

“Sorry Scott, it was the only way.” The vet licked his lips and striped from his uniform down to his underwear showing how soaked the dark fabric already was just from their talking. Deaton used a pair of scissors and cut open Scott’s clothes exposing his body. He leaned down and licked up Scott’s abs and to his nipples. 

“Deaton!?? WHAT. no.no .no .no please!! no…” Scott pleaded with the man but he showed no signs of stopping. 

Even though he couldn’t move Scott could feel it all. The large tongue swiping against his skin and to his nipples, the sensitive nipples he always had. His cock started to fill out, since it wasn’t a muscle the blood rushed through him and hardened his thick alpha cock. 

Deaton had just finished with Scott’s left nipple when the doors burst open and in rushed two wolves. The same two he had been trying to avoid. Derek and Liam both shoved and pushed at each other trying to get to Scott’s body. Derek lifted Scott’s legs and reveled in the heavy musk on from his taint and started to lick at the skin. Liam had his attention elsewhere, moving his face to Scott’s pits he licked at the hair and moaned as he got his face wet. 

Even through his begging and pleading Scott’s cock stayed hard and started to leak, soon he came over himself and the trio eagerly lapped it up. 

“See it feels good Scott!” Liam smiled up at his Alpha cum on his chin. 

“I can’t wait till we show the rest of the guys how good this is.” Derek licked up Scott’s cock and kissed the head of it his eyes shining. 

“Why wait?” Deaton asked with Scott’s ear in his mouth, holding up his phone with the other hand ready to call the others and have them addicted too.  

The three smirked as the messages went out and their cocks added to the growing puddle of cum on the floor.

[electroma89]

DO THEM ALL

JESUS CHRIST WOMAN!!!

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?

today, I was doing my makeup and singing to “Hand of Doom” by Black Sabbath

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

oh boy, knowing if god exists is really tempting

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

learning to love myself exactly as I am

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

I was at left side of the stage, second row, 17 years old and completely mesmerized

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

I would worry waaaaaaay less that’s for sure, I would treat myself more often without feeling guilty

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

I used to, but concert tickets and trips are always there

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.

oh man, there’s this person who has wild hair, easy laugh, short temper and crazy ideas

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?

partially, I mean at that time I felt I was a very happy kid, but now looking back I realise that some attitudes my peers had towards me weren’t “normal” (like teasing me for some of my physical features), and some feelings I had weren’t part of “growing up” (dissociation). Of course I wish I knew that “this weird feeling” was called “being nonbinary” too.

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

I don’t remember exactly when, but it was in front of my mom

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.

you know what? I would pick the shit out of you!!! I would love to see you face to face in first place, but also have long talks and laughs under the stars, that would be so nice

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

with a total stranger? no, I made that mistake already

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

my boyfriend probably? idk I’ve been sleeping super early lately (aka 1 am)

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

I can’t really answer this bc depends on the circunstances of my death

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?

I have brown eyes, brown eyes are the shit!

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

“… and live my days instead of counting my years” (do lyrics count as quotes? idc), for me it means to cut the bullshit and just live to be happy and not caring if I’m too old to enjoy something

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

“when will the next adventure start?”

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

OH BOY! I would help my mom to start her own bussiness, I would travel to every country, try every food, I would buy every instrument and learn how to play them all, I would hire teachers and study until I was fluent in every language I love, idk fam so many things

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

no, and yes, sometimes you just need to get rid of the shit in your life and not feel guilty about it

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.

dear 12 yo me:

hard times come, but at the end you’ll be ok, what you feel now is real, no one will lock you away if they find out, you’re not too weird, you’re not crazy, you’ll find a whole community who feels just like you, healing may be a bit late, but it’ll come, sadness (happiness, everything) comes and goes, you’ll allow yourself to exist: gross, ugly, fat, with bad eyebrows, and then clear skin, weight loss, body hair, lots of eyebrows tutorials, you’ll love yourself with everything you have, and you’ll find people who will do exactly the same

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

more punk, definitely, but I’ve been adding cute pastel details to my style, like these cute phone/pc wallpapers and details in my makeup and nail polish and stuff

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

if they help people express themselves then fantastic! tattoos don’t work for me tho, and I’m a bit wary about piercings, bc infections and stuff

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

depends if I’m going out, weather and my mood, but normally I do a basic makeup routine with dark lips, I love to wear makeup btw

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

Queen has been a HUGE staple in my life since always, since I could understand english their lyrics have shaped my life, and I dare to say their second album (Queen II) saved my life tbh

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.

people deserve respect

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

ok let’s do this

Bjork - 2007 (best night of my life)

Los Bunkers - 2010 (best night out of my country)

Caifanes - 2008 or 2009? (idk I didn’t know them before the concert, I went with a friend) 

Queen + Adam Lambert - 2015 (so many emotions omfg)

Black Sabbath - 2016 (I expected more, not gonna lie)

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

I prefer not to answer this one if that’s ok

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I used to, know is full with boxes and other stuff

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?

brush my hair, taking a collagen pill, brush my teeth and my braces, clean my face with astringent

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

it’s the total opposite lmao, I want them to know I’m nonbinary so fucking badly, but since we’re invisible I don’t know how to tell them

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

I’ve been through so many colors so far, I think the next step would be a rainbow style or something like that

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

my bf

my cousin

you

a friend I no longer talk to bc damn I miss him sometimes and that would be great to talk and “close the circle” if necessary

a childhood friend

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

to have a steady income, bc I have to eat lmao

to travel, in and out my country, bc I wanna know as many cultures as I can

to be seen as a nonbinary person in this country, bc being invisible is not a privilege

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

OH MAN I THOUGHT NO ONE WILL EVER ASK!!!

idk why I don’t have another one with better quality!!! but anyways: my aunt as Roger Taylor, my mom as Brian may, my cousin as Freddie Mercury and me as John Deacon (I want to break free video)

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

talking about family issues with my bullies I mean that was dumb af

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

rape someone

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?

song, bc I’d go crazy otherwise, and probably “seven seas of rhye” by Queen tho I’m not sure

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.

I am rn, everything feels at peace and calm

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

lol I’m neither and I rock both

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

I don’t go to starbucks, but I’d trust any order to my mom or my bf, they know me the best

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

feeling peace, being happy

THIS WAS SO DEEP FAM OMFG

[jo-the-schmo]

Ice Cream & Destroying Bullshit

Requested:  Are you still doing requests? If so I have requested this before but like a John Laurens x chubby reader? I'd really like to see what you can do, since you're like the best writer ever! (Loved breaking btw!!)

Wordcount: 655 (just a lil drab)

Warnings: Language, fat shaming, cute

Tags: @abi-sans05 @tayahqr (You did say tag in everything)

You adjusted the bag strapped to your back and walked down the street. You decided to wear a cute yellow dress today that really showed off your body because you were feeling really confident. I hope I’m not to late, I was supposed to meet John ten minutes ago! As you approached the café you and John planned to go for a little date you passed by a man. He whistled at you.

“Hey there, you’re liking mighty fine, sweetheart!” He hollered, you rolled your eyes. Gross. You ignored him and continued on your way. “I see how it is-” You didn’t listen to him finish that statement and instead walked inside the coffee shop. You saw John turn his head in your direction. He waved you over as you strutted to the seat he saved for you. He shot you a sly smile.

“Well don’t you look as pretty as ever!” He praised, you fanned yourself in an exaggerated manner.

“Oh my! Mr. Laurens you flatter me so!” He chuckled at your performance and handed you the coffee he ordered you as you sat across from him. You took a sip. “Perfect as always, love! You always know what my order is!” You joked. You took another drink and you could see John staring at you from the rim of the mug. “Can I help you, sir?” You asked as you set the cup down.

“What the heck did I do to deserve you?” He questioned with dreamy eyes, a few stray curls sticking out from his ponytail. You pretended to think for a moment.

“Let’s see… You’re cute, you’re funny, you like turtles… actually it’s because you buy me coffee, I’m sorry I lied.” You teased.

“Fair enough, I’ll take it!” He shrugged.

“I’m just kidding! You know I love you thiiiiiis much!” You extended your arms out wide.

“Stop being so cute!” He clutched onto his chest like his heart was aching. “I can’t handle it!” The two of you talked about your day as you finished your drinks.

“You wanna go get ice cream?” You grinned mischievously.

“Hell yeah! Mint choco-chip for the win!”

“Oh God, you’re such a dork!” You snorted, he took your hand and laced your fingers between his, leading you out of the shop. As you both walked beside each other, you saw the guy from earlier. Ugh, this asshole. He noticed you with Laurens and laughed.

“Well, look who’s back! And you brought a little friend, I can’t believe someone actually can deal with all of that! Dude, do you just ignore how big she is or something?” What a fucking dick! You felt John’s grip on your hand tighten.

“You want to take care of this or should I?” He whispered.

“I got this babe, don’t worry.” You looked the douchebag in the eye. “Oh trust me sweetie, he has no reason to ignore my size! He loves every single inch of me and more importantly I do too. It’s too bad an ass-hat like you will never be able to handle this much woman, or any woman for that matter!” You clicked your tongue and he looked genuinely offended.

“Dude, control you fucking girlfriend!” He whined, John chuckled.

“Don’t ‘dude’ me, first of all. Second of all, I don’t control her. Lastly, my girl is the most gorgeous thing on this fucking planet, your ass wishes it even had a chance with her!” John high fived you and you placed your hand on your hip.

“Damn right! Come on babe, we’ve got something more important at hand, ice cream!” The two of you walked past the dude, leaving him speechless.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” John asked.

“Yes, but you can say it again if you want.”

“I really fucking love you!” He smiled.

“I love you more than ice cream and destroying bullshit, which means I love you more.”

[fxckinginsaneinthebrain]

All the unusual asks for mun

1.      who’s your celebrity crush?

Uh, I mean have you seen Ruby Rose? Like, sure, she’s a perfect fit for Chloe (hence why she’s her FC) but, like, making icons is a fun process for me, too. Also Emma Watson, because hot DAMN dude.

2.      are you single or taken?

I… Don’t want to talk about that right now, if that’s okay? Personal shit going on atm.

3.      rant. just do it

The way universities have handled the Covid-19 Outbreak is disgusting, and to expect students (Games Art students in particular) to complete their assignments without the specialist equipment they’re paying to use at the university is a complete joke. Then for lecturers to simply upload slideshows instead of recording lectures (like theyre being paid to do) should be classed as a sackable offence.

4.      do you think its ok to separate the artist from the art?

Yes, absolutely. I, for one, still listen to my LostProphets CDs despite knowing what Ian Watkins did. Do I condone his actions? No. Does he deserve his jail sentence? Yes, ten times over. But Is their music shit because of his actions? Not at all. I still blast Rooftops on the regular.

5.      how many accounts do you have?

You’re looking at it. Only one.

6.      how many pairs of shoes do you have?

Since I broke my ankle, I have one pair that I can use (and even then ive had to buy them specifically). Before the accident? I had four. One for work, One for formal settings, one for the gym, and an everyday pair.

7.      opinion on… (specify to the person you’re asking to)

My opinion on Anons not doing the thing that memes ask for? Heathens.

8.      how many accounts do you follow?

420 (totally accidental btw)

9.      favorite brand of clothing?

I’m a brand ambassador for MyProtein and I work at H&M, so… Take a guess!

10.  name a dog

Cat.

11.  what unusual talent do you have?

I’m very, very strong. My bodyweight in December was 43kg yet I could deadlift 110kg easily.

For you Yanks, I weighed 95lbs and could lift 242lbs

12.  what’s the most interesting schools gossip you’ve ever heard?

A girl had sex with someone at lunch time and got paid with a mars bar.

13.  ever prank called a store?

Nahhhh I don’t have time. Besides, I know what it’s like working in a shop so I ain’t gonna be a dick to them.

14.  what’s your coffee order?

Black. No milk, no sugar. Just plain black.

15.  what’s a question do you constantly get asked?

“Are you a boy or a girl?”

I legit got asked this, despite having stubble and a deep voice… God, I hate being small. I also get told I look like Daniel Radcliffe.

16.   if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where?

Getting my next tattoo in August so you’ll have to wait and see. I’ve got 2, though, on my left arm. One of a firefly symbol from TLoU, and Lucille from The Walking Dead.

17.  google the top song from the year you were born

“Something About The Way You Look Tonight / Candle In The Wind” by Elton John

18.  rant about your favorite musician

I don’t need to. Kurt Cobain is perfect. Conversation over.

19.  what’s your favorite teacher you’ve ever had?

Oh God… Probably my university Lecturers, Shaf or Casto. Both have worked in the Video Game Industry for decades, even working on some of my favourite games. I was, like, a complete fanboy when I met them.

20.  describe your blog in 3-5 words

“Fucking Insane In The Brain”

21.  what’s a conspiracy you believe in?

I believe Jack The Ripper didn’t kill himself when the Whitechapel Murders stopped. I think he just moved out of the country.

22.  if you could see any concert tonight what would you choose?

Nirvana.

23.  if you could break one of your bad habits which would you choose?

Anorexia.

24.  can you dance? sing?

I can sing. I was once in a band called Afterthought. We even recorded a song in a studio. 

25.   what’s something you can’t stop buying?

Nothing. I save my money. Don’t really impulse buy anything.

26.   crowds or small groups?

Small groups, yo. I’m an introverted prick.

27.   how long before a trip do you pack?

Hahahahaha the night before.

28.   what celebrity would you rate a PERFECT 10?

Emma Watson. The girl went to Uni after finishing Harry Potter, got her degree, does humanitarian shit, and is just all round amazing.

29.   what quote or inspirational setting do you think is bs?

“Good things come to those who wait”.

It’s bullshit. You work for what you get in this world.

30.   if you had to dye your hair an unnatural color right now, what would you choose?

Blue, yo!

31.  you can change one thing about your life right now. what are you changing?

I wouldn’t have a metal ankle.

32.   how old do you get mistaken for?

12.

33.  what do you think about a lot?

The sweet relief of death, to be honest.

34.   do you like your hogwarts house or do you wish you were a different one?

Gryffindor Pride baby!

35.   what does home mean to you?

Home means being with those you love. Home means comfort; it means you’re loved and embraced for who you are, despite what people otherwise think.

36.   what do you think you’d be arrested for?

Probably swearing too much, or for playing too much music.

37.  have you ever been called down to the principals office?

Toooooo many times, yo.

38.   post a picture of the outfit you would choose if you could have any outfit you wanted

Like, honestly, I love anything Camouflage so just google that.

39.   describe your aesthetic

Gym Bro meets Video Game nerd meets heavy metal fan

40.   answer with one of your ‘school memes’ (inside jokes you have with your class/grade) with no explanation

“PAUL! PAUL! PAUL! PAUL!”