#she hooked the same girl in the lip with a fishing hook

[hippydippydruid]

Apparently you cut off ONE girls finger with a machete and it’s a character trait.

[sukirichi]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

— in which you and your fuck buddy pretend to date, which totally won’t lead to feelings at all, right?

content / warnings. toxic college settings. explicit smut. MINORS DNI. choking. exhibitionism. fingering. making out. masturbation. voyeurism. toxic characters. reverse cowgirl riding. implied dub-con. friends with benefits. fake dating. unedited.

dedicated to @kyriaan

The sixth beep of your phone that cursed morning had you shuffling around your bag for the device, fishing it out and muting it with exasperation. To no one’s surprise, he was the sole topic again. Oikawa this and Oikawa that — how he’d be such a great boyfriend to you and your friends could also go on dates with his equally charismatic friends; you were tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

“Funny seeing you here,” a bored voice drawled out, the scraping of a chair against the floor snapping you to your senses. “Never in my whole life did I imagine I’d find you hiding in a library of all places — are you reading Freud? His theories are shit. They’re not even scientifically proven.”

You raised a brow at Suna Rintaro, your not-so friend friend.

You and Rintaro had a strict friends with benefits relationship.

It started with meeting at a party once when you needed a release from the stress of finals, you made out on the crowded dance floor and found yourselves tangled in the sheets with barely any memory of the night before. The rest was history. Soon, you ran into him more often than you’d expected, and it wasn’t long before you added his name into speed dial.

Funnily enough, you weren’t that close to him.

You either knew everything about him or knew little to nothing. Most of the time you spent with Rintaro would be when you two were drunk out of your minds, bodies too occupied with moving against one another that ‘getting to know each other’ had never been a thing.

For some reason, however, Rintaro was someone you could trust with your whole heart. You just wouldn’t date him because you weren’t looking for a relationship, and neither was he.

Both of you loved the arrangement you had now.

“Why do you know so much about Freud? I just randomly picked up this book.”

Rintaro shrugged, “‘Hooked up with a girl in Psychology once; she was pretty hot, but you’re still my favourite,” winking, he chewed on his gum before snatching the book away from you.

A protest nearly fell from your mouth when a mop of wavy, dark hair sauntered inside the library, taking long, confident strides as he chatted with Iwaizumi. Eyes widening, you ducked your head behind Suna, desperately clutching the hoodie clad on his stiff back.

Rintaro glanced downwards at you, “You’re hiding like you murdered somebody’s pet. Should I be worried or should I help you in hiding someone’s body?”

“Literally shut up. Oikawa is right there.”

“Oikawa... Tooru?” following your line of sight, Rintaro’s back slouched at the same time his lips curled into a mischievous smile. You could tell he was stifling his laughter; the vibrations of his back spoke enough of his urge to betray you. “Oh, he’s looking here. At you, I might say — care to explain?”

“I have nothing to explain to you. We’re not even friends.”

“Ouch,” Rintaro clutched at his chest, “That hurt. Weren’t you at my dorm like five nights in a row last week? You didn’t want me to leave the bed either. I thought we had something special!”

“Suna Rintaro, I am not fucking around with you. Shut up. I swear if Oikawa walks here, I’m never talking to you again.”

As if to prove a point, you plopped until your upper body squished against his back and the chair, cheeks puffing out in frustration as Rintaro sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me, but come on. You’re using me as a human shield and I have zero context on what’s going on,” he tapped your thigh, head slightly tilted to the side with a wary eye out for Oikawa. “Listen, if he’s bothering you, I could deal with it. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t know what ‘no’ means so if that’s the case, stop hiding. I can help you with it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your grip on his hoodie listened. Peering up from the bottom of your lashes, you nervously licked your lips. “Wait... you mean that? You’ll really help me?”

“Yeah! You send me nudes that motivate me to ace my exams so this is the least I could do.”

“You just have to make everything sexual, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes and ignored Rintaro’s shameless smile. Scanning the room, you glared at Oikawa’s direction before sitting up and gluing yourself to Rintaro’s hip, whose brow raised but said nothing otherwise. “Okay, so the thing is... my friends may or may not have set me up with Oikawa. They kind of gave him false hope I’m really into him — which I never will be because he has a shitty personality — but he’s not having any of it. He insisted I should go with him on just one date, and if I still don’t change my mind about him, then he won’t push further. Otherwise, he really doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s everywhere that I ended up blurting out I was already dating someone.”

Rintaro rested his chin on his palm. “That’s a lot of information to take in,” he mused, “So... you need help in finding a fake boyfriend, is that it?”

“About that,” with guilt written all over your face, you scratched the back of your neck and chuckled, making sure to avoid eye contact the entire time. “You were the first one to come to mind so I told him I was dating the middle blocker from his team. The uhm, guy who stays up until three am fighting in Twitter threads.”

Rintaro’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he clicked his tongue, hands coming up to ball beside your cheeks as he fought the desire to squeeze your cheeks. Meanwhile, you blinked at him innocently, lower lip jutted out in hopes you’d appease him — which more or less worked as he slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“You did and you chose to date me!” Rintaro hissed under his breath, “Jeez, if you wanted us to be official, you could’ve said so. I would’ve thought about it,” exhaling through his nose, Rintaro pushed his hair back, his head too much of a mess to notice you getting flustered. “Fine. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, but don’t you dare fall in love with me. Our condition when we started sleeping together was that we’re limited to casual relationships only. I like our arrangement already, and you mean a lot to me as a friend so I don’t want to lose you, alright? Whatever we’re doing, it’s all going to be an act.”

“Deal,” you shook his hand, face lighting up at how it didn’t take much to convince him. “Now go to the party with me tonight. We’ll show Oikawa why he can’t have me.”

The sight of bodies grinding onto another and music blaring through the speakers weren’t new to you and Rintaro. You’d both seen the same scene a thousand times before, having been part of that crowd at one point. Yet, tonight felt different from rest. The music felt muted as you walked through the door with Rintaro’s hand down on your waist, the stench of alcohol and sex overpowered by the musky perfume your fake boyfriend wore.

You couldn’t think clear around him.

You tried to blame it on the jitters that set your nerves on fire, anxiety pooling in your stomach at the thought Oikawa made it clear he wanted to see you tonight.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. Knowing the guy infamous for his reputation for sleeping around and changing partners like they were his clothes, he wouldn’t give up once he had his eyes set on someone. It just so happened that unfortunate person had to be you.

“Relax,” Rintaro breathed into your ear, pulling you closer by the hip when you weaved through the people nearly fucking on the floor. The sudden gesture had you jolting for a split second. Blinking, Rintaro’s reassuring smile greeted you with a tinge of amusement, his gaze tracing down your nails forming crescent moons on his arm. “Do you really have to cling to me all night?”

“We’re supposed to be a couple madly in love, remember?” you reminded with a bounce of your heel, surveying the throng of people milling in and out of the frat house in search of Oikawa.  “You should kiss me too as soon as we see him. Then he’ll stop bothering me and we can be over with this fiasco.”

“Asking just in case, but how should I kiss you? Like a peck?”

“Kiss me like you want the whole world to know I’m yours,” you said nonchalantly, not thinking too much of it since this was supposed to be an act. Until a horde of loud males started cheering as soon as they entered the room, the crowd welcoming Oikawa and his friends warmly when Rintaro suddenly grabbed you by the wrist, twisting you to face him. The last thing you saw before Rintaro tilted his head to the side to press his lips to yours was the look of utter horror on Oikawa’s face.

Although, honestly, who cared? Rintaro tasted like beer and strawberries, his musky scent clouding your senses that your eyes closed in response.

Knees weakening, you grabbed onto Rintaro’s shoulders to steady yourself, gasping into his greedy lips when you felt him squeeze your hip possessively. You groaned into the kiss, your hands running up to play with the ends of his hair as Rintaro’s back hit the wall, his bent leg trapped between your thighs. He quickly took the chance and nudged his knee on your clothed pussy. Your skirt grazed against your sensitive core that you attempted to pull away to breathe, but Rintaro wasn’t having any of it.

Smirking beneath you, Rintaro hooked a finger into the chains dangling from your skirt and pulled you flush against him. You had no time to react before he was pushing a tongue past your lips. Warm, wet muscles danced against each other as Rintaro memorized the taste of you the same way you did for him — not a single care about air anymore when he made those low, deep whimpers setting fire to your loins.

But just as soon as you leaned in for more, his hair tugged backward to deepen the kiss, Rintaro pulled away. “That’s how I’d kiss you if I were your boyfriend,” he declared, pads of his thumb swiping against his moist lip swollen from the little nips you gave him — the look of pleasure and satisfaction displayed all over his handsome face that told you how much he enjoyed your needy whines.

You gaped at him, your skin burning from being edged.

Rintaro flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked me to kiss like I wanted to let the world know your mine, and he was looking. Besides, we need to show someone who you belong to, right?” pushing his weight off the wall, Rintaro lightly bit your earlobe as you breathed hard, his sharp, cold gaze focused on a flushed red Oikawa standing across the room. “I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”

Arms crossed against your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist in faux affection, when in reality you only needed to hear what he said through the loud music. “What do you have in mind?” The smirk on Rintaro’s face was as loud as a warning siren.

“Turn around.”

Even if you didn’t want to, Rintaro wasn’t asking. He spun you around by the shoulders, your back flushed against his chest when you felt his knee nudge between your legs once more. His fingers calloused from playing volleyball snaked past your thigh and dangerously close to your heated pussy. “This is what I had in mind,” he whispered, his voice sending tingles straight down your spine. “Let’s burn that pretty face of yours into his head. Show him what he can’t have.”

Your dignity told you to say no. To be fingered in public like this was less than ideal, even more so when your lace panties dangerously flashed into view. Yet, you found yourself arching your back to retaliate.

Ass nudging against Rintaro’s hardening cock, you smirked upon hearing his low groans. One palm cupped your ass as a warning before he playfully snapped your underwear against your thigh, a wince painting your half fucked out features from the sting. Glancing at him from the side, you sneered, about to protest when he wiggled his free hand and cupped your pussy.

Your mouth hung open.

Oikawa’s drink fell from his hands. No longer was he paying any attention to his friends, rather on the way you keened and your tongue threatening to loll out your lips the moment Rintaro’s thumb flicked your clit.

“You’re such a naughty slut. Who knew you were into this?”

“He’s watching, Rintaro,” you whimpered, gripping at his wrist like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pants already. “Someone could see and think we’re—”

“That’s the point,” lowering his mouth onto your neck, you gasped at his teeth sinking down on the skin. Behind you, you could hear the hand on your ass disappear at the sounds of a belt unbuckling, fuelling your imagination to both the best and worst scenarios. Rintaro wasn’t far behind in his surprise as were you; you never expected you’d enjoy giving someone a show either, much less cum on the spot the second Rintaro’s cock slipped inside you. “Aw, fuck, did you just come undone for me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You shook your head, palms slippery with sweat as you held onto his slick hands squeezing your waist. The music was no longer audible from the pounding of your heart. Hell, you could barely feel your legs when Rintaro mumbled something incoherent around you before he guided your connected bodies onto a nearby couch.

Plopping down with your weight on top of him, you held onto his knees for dear life. Rintaro settled on the leather couch occupied by a stoned student laughing by himself, the latter’s chuckles halting when he was greeted by the sight of your hazy eyes and pants falling from your mouth. Meanwhile, Rintaro rested his arms on the back of his head. He didn’t have to lift a finger, much less give a command for you to know he wanted you to ride him right here — if you looked straight across, Oikawa would be right before you a few feet away, his frown deeply engraved into his face.

“Rin, I...”

He sat up in a flash at the hesitance in your voice, warm hands wrapping around your waist protectively. It took you a second to realize he hid his nestled cock from everyone’s prying eyes in case you weren’t comfortable, but the gesture did nothing but make you clench around him harder — both from the anxiety and anticipation.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted people to watch. You wanted him to see Rintaro had total control over your body, no matter how humiliating the situation might be.

“Do you want us to stop? Should we go somewhere else?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you bent your legs to rest beside his thighs, fingers looping around the ones hooked under your breast to steady yourself before you lifted your hips, then slammed back down. Again and again, until sweat dripped from your head to your jaw, you kept eye contact with a red-faced Oikawa. All the while as you bounced on Rintaro’s dick and threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest at the lights spinning from the ceiling since it reminded you of the seventh heaven you were in.

Rintaro let you go at your own pace, his grunts and garbled utterances of your name blending with the party wilding from the background. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His cock bumped and grazed your walls until the tip kissed a particular sensitive spot that had you losing your balance for a moment, nails digging into his ripped jeans to catch your breath.

“Goddamn,” Rintaro cursed, stealing away your ability to breathe with his hand snaking into your neck. “You dirty fucking slut, getting off to acting like a whore in front of the whole campus, huh? Go on. Show them how you’re such a whore for my cock.”

You couldn’t swallow down your words.

Rintaro’s grip on your neck had you on a literal chokehold, strong enough to deprive you of air and tighten around him, but not to a point you felt lightheaded. If anything, the power he displayed only fuelled you to ride him harder. Drawing figure eights with your hip, you could feel drool smearing your lipstick as the red stains smudged against Rintaro’s palm, the sound of slick and skin slapping against skin like music to your ears.

Only Rintaro could ever make you feel this way.

From the night you’d met him, each time you fucked would be the best experience of your life. Not once had he failed in bringing you over the edge or experimenting with the most absurd positions you’d never thought of before, and now you were returning the favour.

You rode his cock like it was your last mission. ‘Death by cock’ didn’t sound like such an unfavourable thing either, not when it meant losing yourself in his thick girth spreading you wide and the lewd sight of your cum sticking to his thighs. His jeans were a mess, but Rintaro never complained. He didn’t care then, and he wouldn’t care now. Seeing you dirty his clothes, your sweat dampening his shirt and your own cum coating his cock like a rewarding trophy of what felt like the best night of his life — Rintaro didn’t give a single fuck about the mess.

“F-Fuck, Rin, I’m coming!”

Rintaro held your waist, taking over with complete control as he slammed your hips up and down his twitching cock, curses falling back and forth from his mouth. “Cum on me,” he ordered. Resting his chin on your shoulders, Rintaro’s other hand twisted your jaw in the direction of Oikawa biting his lip, his hand suspiciously following your movements from under the luminescent lights. “Look at that dirty fucker. Let’s show him what he missed out on, yeah?”

A burst of warmth exploded inside you. You were too stunned to move, thighs burning from the ache that you accepted it with delight before falling back into Rintaro’s chest. “That was the best fuck of my life,” you admitted through lidded eyes, “But we’re fucked tomorrow. The whole campus is going to talk about us.”

“Let them.”

Post-nut clarity hit you hard like a truck.

Albeit expecting the rumours and looks you’d be getting the next day, the blatant impressed stares mixed with some envious ones never got easier by the end of classes. Everywhere you went, people would be whispering. But like Rintaro always used to say each time you cried to him, there’d be light at the end of the tunnel, because the best part of it all that made everything worth it?

Oikawa avoided you like the plague. Not because he was appalled of what he’d witnessed and what he’d done, but rather word spread out how he’d been rejected.

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru felt humiliation, at the hands of his own teammate, no less — something Rintaro took pride in when you crashed by his room that night.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face. It was priceless,” he snickered while scrolling through the phone, about to comment when the door swung open, revealing a carbon copy replica of Rintaro. In female version.

Rintaro quickly shot out of bed and threw a blanket over your head, stalking to the girl standing with her mouth hanging ajar at the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until the weekend. Plus, how’d the fuck you get inside the dorms? You’re not supposed to be here, Remi.”

Remi ignored him. “Are you hiding your girlfriend? Mom needs to know about this, she’d love to meet her!”

That was how you found yourself stuck to Rintaro in a cramped booth with his family not an hour later. You awkwardly picked at your food, stealing glances at an equally silent Rintaro while his younger sister, Remi, kept babbling about how her brother hid a girlfriend this whole time. His family went out of town for business for a while, but since they got home earlier, they decided to surprise Rintaro with a visit.

He sure was surprised, and so were you since they hadn’t stopped calling you ‘dear’ ever since.

His parents were nice — they warmly welcomed you and even invited you to have dinner with them sometime at their house. Mrs. Suna would whip up a meal to welcome you as part of their family, saying that you should consider it a thanks for making their son smile. Remi was the most excited out of all them. She’d been wanting an older sister for a while now, and she hadn’t stopped clinging onto your arm the whole time until her parents forcefully snatched her away when it was time go back home.

The entire walk back to the dorms felt suffocating.

None of you spoke a word, not until you arrived at your building and Rintaro shoved his hands down his pockets, swinging back and forth on his feet. “So... are you free this Friday? You should come have dinner with us.”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

“Why not? You’re invited. Don’t be rude and not go.”

“It’s not being rude, Rintaro, you’re asking me to lie to your parents,” you snapped, halting in your tracks to stare at him in disbelief. “They adored me all because they think I’m dating you, but we’re not the least bit close to that. We just fuck and call it day, maybe hang out when we’re bored, but we don’t know each other at all. And weren’t you the one who told me that we can’t be more than just fuck buddies?”

Rintaro rolled his eyes. “You’re right, but I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend to push Oikawa away. Now do me a favour and keep up with the fake girlfriend thing. My parents will be devastated if I tell them we’re not real.”

“I don’t want to lie to them!”

“It’s not a big deal! Why’re you making a mountain out of everything? So because the deal on my side doesn’t require fucking, you’ll back out just like that?”

Your mouth hung open in shock. “It’s because I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend, Rintaro, I want to date you for real!” you blurted out, eyes widening at the same time Rintaro’s cheeks flushed. Realizing what you just said, you inwardly regretted it with a grimace. “I’m sorry. You said we can’t be more than that and I know I just ruined our friendship, but I’m really sorry. I can’t bring myself to lie to your family like that, and I don’t want to lie about my feelings either,” hanging your head down low, you bit the insides of your cheeks. No matter what you said, you couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Rintaro, I like you. You make me happy and I want to do the same for you, but I understand if we’re done now. It was nice to have met you.”

Without waiting for his response, you ran back into the building when a hand wrapped around your wrist. You stared at the long fingers and to the arm connected to it, heart sinking into your chest when you came face to face with Rintaro’s handsome face.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak.”

“I’m sure you don’t want to be near me, Rintaro.”

Rintaro sniffed, averting the intensity of your gaze and shrugging his shoulders shly. “On the contrary... I’d like to spend every waking minute with you,” he mumbled so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you didn’t listen hard enough, but you did, and you were left gaping at him with warmth spreading through your skin. You stood there, watching as Rintaro laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I said that a little too late, but yes. I’d like to be your real boyfriend. Then I can fuck you exclusively because I don’t think I like the idea of you riding other people like that.”

You swatted his arm away with a laugh. “That’s the reason you want to date me?”

“There’s other reasons too like how I love talking to you and I want to get to know you more,” he cupped your face, grinning when his palms felt the warmth emanating from your skin. “And also, I want to do this more with you.”

Leaning down, Rintaro kissed you under the flickering lights of your hallway, the both of your lips stretching into a smile. In a way, you were thankful your friends tried setting you up with someone else, because if you’d known it would lead you to realizing your feelings for Rintaro, you would’ve asked him to date you a little earlier.

[emmyrosee]

My widdle Hisako baby 🥺🩷

Atsumu hates after game interviews.

It’s part of his job of course, but he’s not the captain, his just the star setter for one of the best teams in the league; he’s also a father of a toddler, who, when he can after a home game, wants to get home to read her a bedtime story and be with the beautiful mother of his child.

Right now, however, he wants to chuck all of that out the window, as you’re off in the corner snickering with Kiyoomi while Hisako in her fathers lap pulls his lips and chin, interrupting every answer with a grab or a giggle or a bite of his fingers.

“You’re cruel,” Kiyoomi whispers to you.

You shrug in indifference, “he wanted to spend more time with her after the game. Not my fault they picked him for postgame.”

“You’re cruel,” he repeats, and the gods must be listening because on stage, Atsumu repeats the same thing when Hisako fish hooks his lip.

This time, it’s Atsumu’s turn to tell Hisako “you’re cruel” and it has the crowd in a tizzy. You cover your mouth to laugh quietly, and you get a nudge from Kiyoomi in response.

A massive frame stalks past you both, and you stick your leg out to playfully kick him, "hey, Captain."

Meian grins and sends you a wink, "hey, Mrs. Miya."

"Good game."

"I'd say so," he nudges his head towards Atsumu at the table. "He played well."

"He always does."

“Is there anything that you hope to achieve next game?” A reporter asks, snapping you all back into focusing the interview at hand.

Atsumu sighs softly, “I guess I just want to repeat the momentum, keep it from getting sloppy and-“

“Shugu?”

All heads turn towards Hisako, Atsumu’s smiling down at her. “Shugo?”

“Shugu!” Her tiny hand points off stage a few feet away, at the captain just outside the frame.

Meian beams, "guess that's my cue."

“Yeah, Shugo just left,” he chuckles. “She loves Meian. More than she loves me-“

Quickly, Meian comes bouncing back on the stage, wasting no time in formalities before scooping Hisako up in his big, burly arms. He bites at her cheeks while she squeals and flails her limbs, squealing and laughing while the crowd coos in adoration. Atsumu’s beaming as he watches his captain carry his favorite person out, and it almost makes you tear up from the sight of so many people positively adoring your little girl.

Kiyoomi claps a big hand on your shoulder, trying to ground you and your emotions. “He’s a good dad.”

“He’s the best dad.”

[taesanluv3r]

at the fair.

kim leehan x reader

established relationship, some suggestive comments (? ish), leehan argues with a little girl, very very cuteness. lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors.

wc: 2,248

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you're gonna love it!"

yn smiles at her boyfriend's happy expression, leehan's eyes had turned into little lines, a grin on his face as he went on and on about this neighbourhood fair he had just been dying to take her to. every year, for one whole month during the summer time, the park just down the street magically transforms into some sort of a theme park. the boy had been going there ever since he were a small child, and after dating for the past five or so months, he had been counting down the days until summer had finally arrived onto his doorstep, just so he could share a little bit of his childhood with her.

and that's how they got here. standing with arms intertwined as they waited for heart-shaped their cotton candy to be twirled onto its stick, their stomachs still turning as a result of the thrilling ride they had just gotten off of. "thank you so much" yn says, retrieving the sugary treat into her hands, pulling out a chunk of the soft candy before turning slightly to pass it over into her boyfriend's opened mouth. "ugh" she winced in disgust when his tongue accidentally came in contact with tips of her fingers. the boy chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss against her cheek. "ferris wheel?" he asked, a single eyebrow cocked up as he did so, head tilted over to the large carnival ride. she nods excitedly, "ferris wheel!"

the pair waits in line once again, finishing up the last off their short-lived treat before tossing it into the large silver trashcan to their left. "you know..." yn starts, staring up at the moving wheel that was beginning to slow down to a stop. "i've always wanted to make-out on a ferris wheel" her eyes wander over to him as she ends her sentence, batting her eyelashes almost annoyingly. leehan rolls his eyes before pulling her into his arms, "i feel like you always want to make-out in unconventional places" the couple shares another light laugh, separating from each other as the guard welcomed them onto one of the worryingly squeaky carts of the fair attraction.

"well that was fun" the boy says, wiping the bits of her lip gloss that stained against the grin on his lips. "yeah, we should definitely do that again" his girlfriend responds, slightly out of breath. the young couple get off the ride, holding hands as they waltzed around the grounds of the park once again. "we should play some games now...i need a new plushie for my collection!" yn's statement makes him giggle, "you are such a child" but his actions contradict his words, pulling the girl slightly as he wordlessly makes his way to the row of playing games on the other side of the fair. "which one do you want to play, love?" she ponders for a moment, eyes moving to scan through each and every one of the stands available. yn was about to speak, finally choosing a game, but she is interrupted by his gasp. before she could even ask him what was wrong, the girl found herself being tugged away and over to a light blue stand in the corner.

"where are we going?" her question answers itself when she is met with a large, light-up sign above her head. a sign that read:

fisherman's paradise! catch some fish, win a prize!

a sea themed game. how fitting for her fish-loving boyfriend. the pair watched as two players went against each other. the whole purpose of the game was to use the magnetic hooks to grab as many robotic fish as possible from the small plastic pool in the middle. whoever got the most fish by the end of the 2 minute mark, was named winner and got to choose a sea-themed toy from the prize wall. yn could see the excited smile that begun to grow on her boyfriend's face, his eyes were shimmering like he had just seen his wildest dreams come true. at the same time, leehan looked focused, as if he were calculating every move he would have to make to win later when it was his turn. finally, after what felt like the longest two minutes in the world, the boy was up. a prideful laugh escaped his lips at the sight of his opponent; a little girl, adorned in a thick, red wig and the worst excuse for a mermaid costume he had ever seen. his smile was washed away however when the child in front of him stuck her little tongue out, stained blue from the artificial colouring of the ice cone she probably just had. "you're going down, loser!" her voice was high-pitched and squeaky, as expected from someone that tiny. yn can't help but laugh from behind him, watching in amusement as her boyfriend shared petty trash-talk with a girl who's height didn't even make it past his long legs.

"the only one going down is you, little girl"

the tired looking teenager who ran the booth waved a flag, signalling that their two minutes had begun. yn watched in disbelief as leehan deprived his tiny opponent of all her robotic fish, a nasty smirk on his face as he had fun doing so. the little girl looked horrified, her eyebrows furrowing as the older boy took her victory far far away. ding! their time was up, leehan lifting his fists up in the air at his obvious win. he looked over at his girlfriend happily before pulling her into a hug, she chuckled lightly as she pressed a kiss onto his jaw. now he had to pick his prize, contemplating all too seriously at his choices. "i want the jellyfish" yn whispers, pointing at the angry looking plush toy that seemed to be calling her name. but the boy just scoffs, "what do you mean you want the jellyfish. it's my prize, and i'll take that one" the girl's mouth drops open, a sigh escaping from it as she watches her boyfriend gleefully accept the catfish shaped doll, his favourite, the corydoras. "and i'm the child" yn complains, rolling her eyes at a very joyful leehan, their arms intertwining again as they began to walk away from the game stand.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" an all too familiarly squeaky voice stops them in their tracks, the couple twirling around to be met with none other than the little girl from earlier. "you, mister! you're a cheater! that prize was supposed to be mine!" her small face was squished into an angry expression, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips puckered out into a dramatic pout. leehan snorts, bending down slightly to be nearer to her. "i won fair and square! so don't be such a sore loser" yn could not believe her ears or her eyes, there was no way her boyfriend who she loved and adored so much was seriously arguing with a five year old! over a fish game! the child's angry face turns into that of a smug look, a spritz of her own spit coming out as she spoke up once again. "you probably don't even like fish as much as me" the girl spat, her eyes closing shut and her tiny head tilting upwards. the tall boy's girlfriend slaps herself in the head, why would she say that? doesn't she know the consequences of her actions? where were her parents at this moment? god, help us all. yn tries to pull her boyfriend away before he could cause any more of a scene, but he just shrugs her arm off, a knowing and cocky look painted over his complexion as he looks the poor child right in the eyes.

"well what's your favourite fish then? since you know so much about them" oh god. the five year old lifts her chubby arms in the air, "obviously flounder from the little mermaid!" her miniature eyes roll to the back of her head, pointing down at her outfit so as to say 'duh!'. leehan is about to burst into tears of laughter, "well what kind of fish is he then?" all of a sudden the chatty child falls silent, and the boy has just about the meanest look on his face. "he's actually, a pterophyllum scalare, also known as an angelfish" in the moment the boy looked like he just won a lottery, smirking proudly with his chest puffed out in glory. his girlfriend let's out another loud sigh, making a mental note to never let her boyfriend around children ever again.

the atmosphere changes however, when a whimper escapes the little girl's lips. the couples' eyes darting straight towards her as she begins to cry real tears. "leehan, you made the poor kid cry!" yn exclaims, finally smacking his upside his head. "why is she crying! i was just telling her a simple fish fact!" the boy yells back in terror, "she's a child?!" amidst the young pair's argument, the red wig wearing girl's wailing gets louder, her cries going from incoherent mumbles to begging for her mommy. the couple is in panic mode, not really understanding what they should do at a situation like this, and not really wanting to get in trouble with the kid's parents. "what do we do?" leehan asks, his hands pressed against the top of his head. "i don't know babe, just give her the doll so she stops crying!" yn responds, her tone getting louder to overpower the sound of the wailing child. "but i won it! fair and square!" the girl rolls her eyes at the stupid frown played against her boyfriend's lips, showing no remorse as she forcefully pulled the fish-shaped plushie out of his hands.

"here, stop crying and take this, okay?" yn's tone became hushed as she bent down to level with the tearful girl, juxtaposing the way she shouted at her partner just a second ago. "don't mind him, he's just a big ol' meanie, right? so stop crying, okay?" the kid takes the doll in her tiny hands, sniffling as her tears came to an end. "mkay" the kid mumbles and yn can't help but smile softly. "i love your mermaid outfit, by the way. you look just like ariel, so pretty" now the little girl was grinning ear to ear, seemingly beginning to forget about the tantrum she just threw. "you're pretty too, lady. but...why are you dating such an asshole?" the wind is knocked out of the girl, and her boyfriend who stood listening closely, at the child's harsh choice of vocabulary. yn stops herself from laughing out loud, sighing as she patted a hand through the smaller one's red wig. "i promise he isn't always like that...he's just...very passionate about sea life, that's all" leehan catches himself smiling unconsciously as he watched his girl make soft conversation with his tiny enemy, but his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a female voice calling out for their child, it was her mother.

"oh! there you are! you can't just run off like that! oh, i'm so sorry if she troubled you guys" an older, plump woman spoke, her eyes and nose the spitting image of the menacing girl they were just talking to. yn catches a glimpse of her partner's smirk, "oh yeah, she actually just called me an assho-ow!" his words are cut short when his girlfriend's foot is pressed harshly against his toes. "no problem, she wasn't bothering us at all!" yn's tone is sweet, a forceful smile on her lips like she weren't physically hurting the boy beside her right now. "look mommy, the pretty lady gave me a fishy!" the kid cheers as her mother picks her up from the ground. "yeah my fish-ow! stop stepping on my foot!" yn glares at the guy, if looks could kill he'd be six feet under the ground right now. the older lady and her child shoots the couple a perplexed look before thanking them quickly and leaving. the girl smiles, waving goodbye to the costume wearing child as they slowly disappeared into the distance.

"remind me to never let you play games with children ever again!" yn exclaims as they walk towards the exit of the fair. leehan just chuckles, shooting her a cheeky grin as he did so. "but you were kind of hot back there though..." he trails off, stretching an arm out to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in. "hm?" she asked confused, her cheeks coming in contact with his t-shirt as she looked up at his face. "like you looked so cute comforting that kid...i can't lie it's giving me like extreme baby fever, right now" once again his girlfriend glares at him in disbelief, "after all of that? like hell i'm letting you near my children!" he laughs, partially agreeing with what she was saying. it was silent for a moment, her eyes focused on their surroundings, watching as families, friends and couples alike ran around the park that was starting to get darker. leehan, too, is distracted by the orange tint that began to paint the sky. and then he speaks again, ruining their moment of pure bliss. "can we at least pretend to make a baby" yn rolls her eyes, hiding her blush-y face against his chest as she slaps a hand softly against his arm.

"oh my god leehan, if you're horny just say so!"

the end.

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leave the poor kid alone leehan TT idrk what i was going for when i started writing this but i think its so cute nonetheless 🤓 also not leehan getting #𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒚 at the end 🙄 reblogs n feedbacks highly appreciated!! tysm for reading <3

[anglbby444]

Rafe x fem!reader

Warnings ; p n v sex, fingering, soft!rafe, assumed unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it besties), one use of Y/N

Her ears perked up as she heard the slight rattle of the doorknob. To her pleasure, Rafe came strutting through the door, carrying a big bag of fishing gear he had been given from his father. A contagious smile crept onto his face he placed down the extremely heavy bag, trying to be as quiet as possible. “Jesus, this bag is so heavy.” He huffed out with a laugh. She looked at him with a smile.

He ran his hands through his hair as he waddled over to the couch, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of her head. She tilted her head back so she could kiss his lips in a quick peck. He stood there for a moment, standing over her, petting her head that was currently resting against his waist. “Cmere Rafe, I wanna cuddle.”

She shuffled her body sideways, so she’d be laying across the couch with her head resting against the arm of the couch. Rafe grinned as he walked over to lean against the arm of the couch, crawling on top of the cushions, eventually finding himself on top of her. He nestled his face into her neck, placing soft kisses on the skin. “Mmm, you taste like cake.” He chuckled.

He peppered a few more kisses on her neck before nuzzling his face into the crevice between her ear and neck. His hands found their way to her waist again, gently sinking in to the flesh. Y/N let out a content sigh as the boy hummed happily, smiling into her skin. "Missed me today, huh baby?” Her voice was soft as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Rafe let out a noise of agreement, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. The sensation caused her to shift a little bit, chuckling to herself. "Damn right I did. You're all I could think about all day. All that stupid fishing shit my dad asked me to help him with, he knows I don't give a fuck about the damn fish." He grumbled into her skin, causing her to smile as her hands combed along his short hair.

"Yeah, I get it. Fishing isn't exactly your forte." She retorted with a cheeky grin, his head popping up in response to her playful comment. "Hey, you little shit, at least I can put a worm on the hook." She gave him a fake look of offense, softly tapping the back of his head. "Alright alright, you got me there." They both looked at each other and laughed for a minute, relishing in the company of the other. He looked at her with a sideways smile, the smile that he only gives to her. Nobody else. Just her. She was his girl, and she didn't mind it one bit. "Fuck, you are so beautiful..."

His voice and his heartbeat were the only two things she could hear at that moment, but in her defense, thats all she wanted to hear. It's all she ever wanted to hear. He nudged his nose against her jaw, signaling that he wanted her to expose her neck a bit more. And that she did. With a content sigh, her hands still petting his head, she craned her neck slightly to give him more access to the soft, yet sensitive skin. His lips attached to the nape of her neck, then lifting, and then attaching again in a continuous cycle. She felt his teeth gently nip at the spot of skin that connects her neck to her ear, his mouth curling up into a slight smile at her reaction. "R-Rafe...are you trying to get me excited or something?" She huffed, fingers still petting the top of his head.

"What's it look like i'm trying to do, baby?" He drawled out, continuing to kiss the spot he just bit. She tried to buck her hips up to get some form of friction as she felt his left hand trail down her body once more, landing on the same patch of skin on her hip he was just holding. He chuckled at her reaction. "Seems like its workin', huh?" That little shit.

Well, if he's gonna play games, so will she. She slowly slithered her hand down his waist, her fingers ever so slightly grazing against his crotch. The bulge forming on the light brown kahki pants was starting to grow more, bringing a smile to both their faces. Suddenly, Rafe firmly, but gently enough as to not hurt her, used his hands to grab her wrists and pin them to her sides. "You little brat, you think you can try and turn the tables on me, hm?" His strong grip on her wrist made her feel completely powerless, but also comfortable. She knew he would never hurt her. Never in a million years would he ever think about hurting his sweet girl.

The look on his face was a look only she knew. It was a look of hunger. "Do you wanna take this to the bedroom, honey?" He leaned down towards her ear, lips ever so slightly grazing against the outer shell as he whispered. She gave him those eyes that made him know exactly what she wanted. He whispered again, a quick "Ok", and scooped her up bridal style. She giggled the whole time as he carried her to his bedroom, that just to happen to have the best view of the water on the island.

He gracefully placed her down onto the bed, that was thankfully covered in the softest quilt-style sewn blanket she had ever felt. She gawked at his arms as he yanked his shirt off, his tan skin almost glistening in the sunset. He plopped down next to her, his pointer finger and thumb playing with the hem of his shirt, that she happen to be wearing that day. His eyes trailed down from her eyes, all the way down to wear the shirt ends. He felt a shiver run up his spine when he realized she wasn't wearing any panties underneath his shirt. "Fuck...you naughty girl.."

She giggled at his shocked expression. "I wanted to surprise you, since I knew you were gonna be doing something you hate having to do today.." She muttered out, almost sounding shy, quite the contrary to how she was acting just a few moment ago. He could've sworn he felt his dick twitch at her words. "Jesus, how'd I get so lucky with a girl like you?" He stammered out his words, hands grabbing onto her hips and bringing her on top of his waist as he attached his lips to hers with a passionate hunger. "Just because you're on top, dosen't mean you're in charge. Just remember that." He exclaimed between the kisses, feeling her smile against his lips. "Wasn't counting on it." She huffed out between a quick breath.

"Can I take the shirt off, please?" He brushed a stray strand of hair off of her forehead, eyes locked on her gorgeous, persperation freckled face. She nodded at his request, immiedntly feeling his hands pull the shirt up and off her chest. "Fuck...look at these tits...so beautiful." He breathed out, flipping her over and leaning down once more to attach his lips to her right nipple as he tossed the t-shirt she was wearing over his head and onto the floor. "R-Rafey..feels so good..." She mewled out, her own hand attempting to tug at his pants. In response to this, he playfully smacked her hand. "What did I say about me being in control, hm?"

She scrunched her nose in response to his reprimand, although not minding it one bit. "Atta girl.." He moaned as his tongue danced around the hardening nipple, relishing in her delicious moans she was making. In additon to him sucking her nipple, he trailed one of his hands down her body, eventually finding it's way between her thighs. He slightly trailed his fingers against her mound as he removed his lips from her breast with a pop sound, tsking while shaking his head. "Seems like someones wet already. Is this all for me?"

She bit her lip as she bucked her hips up against his fingers that were now teasing at her entrance, the middle finger curiously spreading the lips apart. "Mmm...look at this sweet pussy...looks so fucking delicious.." His middle finger softly started to toy with the sensitive nub in the middle, relishing in her moans once more. "P-please f-fuck me so good..." He looked at her with a smirk, playfully shaking his head. "Yeah? That's what you want? Me to fuck the shit out of you?" he groaned against her ear, his hot breath creating goosebumps on her skin. She eagerly nodded her head.

“Good girl, always being so clear about what she wants.” Rafe smiled as he rested his forehead against hers, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. His left hand cupped her cheek as his other hand pump his semi-erect cock a few times. The heavenly sounds coming from her lovers cock made her stomach twirl. “R-Rafe…please be careful..” She sounded almost worried, which broke Rafes heart. He nuzzled his nose to hers as he hooked her legs through his arms. “Shhh, don’t worry honey. I’m gonna be extra careful. Just for you.”

And he stuck to his word. He never broke eye contact as he was lining his cock up with her entrance, enjoying all the expressions his length was causing her to make. When he slid in about an inch, he began peppering kisses on her neck to distract her from the stinging pain. With every inch, her eyes squeezed shut. “There we go, almost all in now.” His forehead was still pressed against hers, smiling as he took her bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a gentle tug. Sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room as he began to pump his cock into her, burying his face into the supple skin of her neck. His hot breath brushed against her ear, soft moans turning into louder ones as he kept fucking her. “This pussy is all mine, babygirl. All fucking mine.”

[fanartlover1234]

JUST FRIENDS

Hook and Y/n like eachother but Y/n is Morgies sister.

Made by a request in my dm

Hook x morgie's twin sister where hook tries to flirt and ask u to the dance and u say yes, but when your morgie finds out he is not happy and goes overprotective brother mode on both of u

"Can you believe i was paired with miss pinky pop for the finals" Y/n complained to Malificent as they made way into the courtyard as she crumbled her last test into a ball and trew it away.

She steped on the bench and sat on the table a loud groan excaping her lips as she layed on her arms and leaned her head on Morgies shoulder.

"Our Y/n here is working with Bridget for finals"

"Dont remind me" Y/n kicked Malificent in leg annoyed.

"Hey, Y/n" Bridgets voice rang in the girls ears as she got up stalking over to the girl " could you get the lagoon flowers for our potion"

"Sure, you should tag along, ill show the lagoon fishes" Y/n said faking her exitment.

"Really? What do they do" Bridget asked happy but her smile soon droped at her next words.

"They eat annoying girls" Y/n stated before walking away.

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Y/n and Hook were walking along the lagoon looking for stupid flowers as Hook was the only free on she draged him along.

They were laughing and joking untill they both triped over something, Hook landed on top of the girl and for a moment they just layed there untill Y/n noticed the flower and plucked it while getting up.

They both sat there looking at the black rose like flowers with bright pink thorns.

Hook looked as the brown haired girl as she couldnt help but admire the flower in her hand.

Her grern eyes slowly moved to the boy infront of her as he kept her gaze.

"What" she asked.

"Be my date to the castlecoming" he said though it more sounded like a question.

"Hook you know"

"You dont date Morgies friends but lets at least go as friends" he said as he flicked his brown eyes along her face in hope and a smile creeped on the lips when she chuckled and nodded a little.

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The next day in class as Y/n was working with Bridget she carefuly took out the flower and placed it in the small vase that Bridget had prepered for the flower.

As Y/n was working Bridget noticed the small glances across the room between Her lab partner and Hook who worked with Morgie.

"Eyes talk" Bridget said as she cut up some weeds.

"What do you mean?" The brown haired girl asked annoyed as she looked at the girl next to her.

"You're staring at him"

"Only when no one is looking"

"Funny, he does the same thing"

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"Are you going with Hook to the castlecoming"

"Hi to you too" Y/n sais getting up from her bed as she looked at her twin who just stormed into her room annoyance in his voice " and dont worry, we're going as friends"

"Yeah right you guys been gushing over eachother for years now"

"Morgie. Friends." The girl said grabing her brothers shoulders.

"Just friends?"

"Yes, you can ask him "

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"So you and Y/n are going as friends?" Morgie asked his long terms friend.

"Yes" Hook said.

Morgie was about to leave when he heard Hook mumble something under his breath "sadly"

"Dude" Morgie yelled as he delivered a punch to Hooks face "thats my sister"

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Castlecoming came and Morgie recieved a proper scolding for punching Hook across the face from his sister as they made way to the ball room of merlin academy.

The nighy was smooth and fun as Hook and Y/n danced till midnights hit.

During the midnight speach of merlin the girl snuck out of the balckony and few momemts later Hook joined her.

No words were spoken as he pulled her closer but she stoped him a momemt from their lips touched.

"I though you said you wanted to be just friends with me" the girl asked.

"I think we both know we can never be just friends" he said.

And then he kissed her, without warning, without premission, without even deciding to do it but simply because he couldnt have done anything else.

He looked at her like she was the moon, like she was made of wonder and beauty, like she was something not everyone knew how to love.

And for the past years every time she laughed, she hoped he's watching. Not so that he saw that she was happy but because maybe, just maybe he woukd fall for her smile, just as hard as she fell for his.

Because no matter how hard she denies it the truth is she has fallen for him.

Every secret galnce and bit too long of embraced they shared, the laughs untill their stomach hurted and there were tears in their eyes every comforting look.

He looked at her and smiled, she looked at him and fell in love.

Because truth is they looked at eachothee a bit too long to be 'just friends'

"Dude thats my sister" morgie yelled as he saw them kiss.

[alt-vera]

— whiskey girl ⁀➷

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joel miller gives his whiskey girl a gift.

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✿ | joel miller | 1.06k | ❛ whiskey girl - toby keith ❜ | part one

warnings: pre outbreak!joel miller. drinking. allude to sex. age gap.

note: who knows when im gonna post again lol stay tuned for part two tho

❝ just ain’t enough good burn in tequila, she needs somethin’ with a little more edge and a little more pain ❞

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JOEL MILLER LIKED HIS GIRLS LIKE HE LIKED HIS DRINKS.

　Strong, neat, and not cheap enough to make him gag.

　That’s why he liked you: a farmer’s granddaughter majoring in agriculture who worked hard for what she had and knew the value of respecting those around her without being walked over. A little ragged on the edges, but Joel liked ‘em rough.

　Same could be said for you. You liked Joel for the same reasons he fawned over you. He was charming, and assiduous, with enough edge worn into his features to draw you in at the drop of a dime.

　So, when you invited Joel to a local dive bar on an eventless friday night, he sure as hell wasn’t going to say no. It was rare for you both to be free; usually he was working late, or you had classes, or tests, or were helping on the farm.

　He saw your worn mustang parked by the entrance, and spotted you instantaneously as he walked inside. A welcoming aura surrounded you as you chatted with some old men, presumably other farmers who knew you from your last name and came in for a drink after a sweltering day of plowing fields. Your smile gleamed under the warm lights of the bar, and Joel couldn’t help it as his lips curled into a smile just from looking at you.

　“Haven’t been making you wait long, have i?” He drawled as he sauntered up to you, hand making it’s way into the back pocket of your jeans, pulling you closer to him.

　You directed your smile his way before bidding your goodbyes to the old folks. “‘Course not, Miller. You know that if you did, i would’ve given you hell as soon as you set foot in the door.”

　Joel chuckled, running his free hand through his messy hair. “Fair enough, darlin’. You need a drink?”

　“Please,” You replied, and Joel put two fingers in his mouth, throwing a loud whistle at the bartender.

　“Can i get a beer and a, uh,” He glanced over to you for a moment, deep eyes meeting your own, before a smirked danced across his features, “…a whiskey, neat, for my girl, please.”

　You couldn’t help as your cheeks warmed at his words. My girl. You rolled your eyes, turning your face away from him so that he couldn’t see the ruddy heat spreading across your face.

　The two of you didn’t have a label. You drank together, you kissed, you fucked. You’d make dinner for him and his daughter, and he’d take you for drives at sunset down empty country roads, radio blasting through the open heat waves as you yelled gleefully out the windows.

　Still, anyone who looked at you and Joel knew there was something there, even when his hand wasn’t in your back pocket or your fingers were grasping his forearm. You were his girl. And he was your guy. No denomination necessary.

　One whiskey turned to three before you were singing along to the jukebox in the corner of the bar, holding up invisible microphones to random folks who’d join you in your performance. Joel watched, amused, as you twirled around to the twang of the guitar blaring through the speakers. His smile grew as you crept closer to him, pretending to reel him in to dance with you like a fish caught on a worm.

　Little did you know that you already had him from the moment he met you. Hook, line, and sinker.

　His hand found yours as he gave in, not much of a dancer, but eager to spin you around. You let him lead you, swaying to the pace of the music, pulling you closer to him as the tempo continued on.

　He pulled you flush against him. Forgetting the music, forgetting the dancing, forgetting the watching eyes. He kissed you, a passionate catch of the lips that left you craving more, the dull glow of amber above you acting like a spotlight that shone on you and Joel solely.

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　Joel couldn’t help himself as reached a hand up and drew a sloppy happy face on the fogged up windows of your mustang. Your head laid on his bare chest as you both fought to catch your breath, crickets chirping loudly in the farm field, audible even through the barrier of your car.

　You felt him bury his nose in your hair, breathing in the smell of you. Vanilla, and sweet musk, and whiskey. He felt you smile against his pec, eyes stealing a glance up to meet his.

　“I have a present for you,” He spoke suddenly, voice worn and husky.

　“Better than the way you just fucked me?” You joked with a light chuckle, feeling his arm move as he went to fish something out of his jeans that had fell on the floor of your backseat.

　He held the gift in his large hand before opening his palm to you to reveal a small wooden box. His fingers inched it open, and inside was a thin-banded ring with a dainty diamond in the middle.

　You turned dreadfully quiet as you stared at the band, and an anxious prickle crept over Joel’s skin.

　You raised yourself off his chest, turning to look at him. “Joel, if you’re proposing to me before even asking me to be your girlfriend, then i’m going to chuck this out into the field.”

　“What?” He laughed, inching so that he was sitting upright. “No, no, it’s a promise ring,” He said, plucking the jewellery out of the box and grabbing your hand, pushing it delicately onto your ring finger.

　“Ever since Sarah’s mom up and left, datin’ has been hard. I didn’t even wanna look at another woman—“ Joel’s deep eyes met yours, and you felt your heart swell, “—Until i met you.”

　“I don’t want t’distract you from your studies,” He continued, “But you’re my girl, and i want everyone to know it.”

　There it was again. My girl. Your pulse raced as you kissed him eagerly, full of adoration. Joel could still taste the smooth relish of whiskey on your breath.

　You smiled at him euphorically as you pulled away, words leaving your lips before you could even register the weight of them. “I love you, Joel.”

　Joel’s thumb stroked your cheek affectionately, returning your grin. “I love you too, my little whiskey girl.”

[random-thot-generator]

Better Not to Know + Pt. 2

KYLE GAZ GARRICK x FEM READER

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Summary: It's been months, but you've not been able to forget the stranger you hooked up with in a night club bathroom. Then again, it hard to forget someone who left such a lasting impression.

Warnings/Tags: no serious warnings, mild profanity, no smut this round, no use of Y/N

(Notes: This one wouldn't leave me alone either, so here's a second installment. Bit of a cliffhanger at the end. Yeah, I'm a literary sadist.)

banners & dividers by: @saradika-graphics

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March comes in a like a lion, the wind and rain making it a misery to step foot out-of-doors. Small wonder that your boss decides to send you to pick up his dry cleaning for him instead of doing it himself. Why risk ruining his tailored suits and Italian shoes, when he could just send you, who bought your clothes off the clearance rack?

Umbrella clutched in your fist, you hurry along the sidewalk, dodging puddles and people as you make your way to the dry cleaners. You're relieved to see there's not a line, counting your blessings as you step through the door. An automated chime announces your arrival— bing-bong.

"Hullo. Can I help you?" A young woman with colorful tats sleeving her arms and teal hair gives you a customer service smile from behind the counter.

You pull the ticket from the pocket of your raincoat and slide it over with a tight smile. "Just a pick-up."

The young woman picks up the slip of paper, heavily lined eyes scanning the ticket before flickering over your damp, bedraggled form. "Be just a tick, luv," she murmurs, disappearing through a curtained doorway.

With nothing better to do, you drift over to a display of travel-size stain remover sticks, not bothering to turn around when the door opens, a gust of wind fluttering the hem of your coat. The automated chime sounds, drawing Tattoo Girl out of the back with what you assume is your boss' dry cleaning held aloft in one hand.

"Well, hullo, handsome!" she greets her new customer with a wide, toothy smile. "Got your uniform ready. Just need to take care of this lady first."

You don't look back to see who she's addressing, all your attention focused on fishing your boss' credit card out of your pocket. You do absently notice that the new customer smells nice. You catch notes of sandalwood and pine, a hint of musk, definitely masculine and strangely familiar. You also don't fail to notice how Tattoo Girl keeps glancing over your shoulder as she rings you up, the remnants of her wide smile still lingering.

"Here you go," she says, handing over the dry-cleaning bag and receipt, her eyes already focused on her more desirable customer.

"Thanks," you mutter, drawing the bag over the counter and draping it over your arm. Pulling the sides of your coat together, you turn, curious eyes flicking up to catch a glimpse of the man who has so distracted the pretty cashier, then almost trip over your own feet as you stumble to a halt.

"No bloody way," you breathe in a shocked whisper, staring up at the face that's been haunting you for the last five months.

His eyes widen at the same time yours do, recognition clear in his expression. "Christ, I don't believe it," he mutters, a mystified smile curving his sensuous lips. "It's really you."

You feel the same way. You can't believe it's really him, the gorgeous bloke from the club, Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous himself. "Um— wow. H-Hi."

His soft brown eyes register surprise but also pleasure as they lock with yours and his mega-watt smile appears. "Long time, no see, pet. How ya been?"

You gaze up at him dumbfounded, shaken all the way down to your sensible shoes. It's really him. Holy shit! "I, uh... I'm g-good. And you?" Christ! When did you develop a stammer?

He steps closer, his smile turning into something softer and intimate. "Been doin' alright." His eyes dart over your face, taking you in as if he still can't believe you're real. "This is bloody mad, innit? You wouldn't believe how many times I've..." He lets his words trail off, shaking away his dazed expression. "Ah, never mind. 'M just beyond chuffed to see ya again, pet. You look— lovely."

At least he's pleased to see me again, you think. That's a good sign, isn't it? You adjust the dry-cleaning bag in front of you, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Tattoo Girl clears her throat, drawing your attention back to the counter. You glance over to see a perturbed little frown on her face, her eyes bouncing back and forth between you and the gorgeous man standing by your side.

"Oh! Sorry," you apologize, stepping away from the counter. You glance back up at him, feeling flustered and more than a little overwhelmed. Gripping the dry-cleaning bag closer to your body, you ignore the fact that you're probably wrinkling your boss' clothes.

"Ha. Making a right nuisance of myself, aren't I?" you murmur with a nervous titter. "It was, um, nice seeing you again, uh..." You give him a sheepish little grin, feeling terribly awkward and thoroughly embarrassed. "I-I'm so sorry. I don't think I ever got your, uh... name." God, how embarrassing...

He shuffles his feet and grins, looking a bit sheepish himself. "It's, uh, it's Kyle," he answers in a soft voice, holding out his hand. "Kyle Garrick." He dips his chin down to meet your eyes, giving you a teasing little smirk. "I don't think I got your name, either."

Taking his hand, you utter your name with a dazed expression as his touch sends warm tingles of awareness shooting up your arm. Neither one of you let go until the Tattoo Girl clears her throat again and sniffs in irritation.

Kyle's brows tick together in mild irritation as he shoots a quick look in her direction, then flicks his gaze back to you. "Would ya mind waiting while I take care of this? It'll just take a moment," he says, sounding anxious. "I'd really like to catch up with ya, maybe buy ya lunch or a coffee?"

Your head bobs in eager agreement. "Yeah, sure. I've got time."

Honestly, you didn't, but to hell with your boss. This is far more important to you.

Stepping out of the way, you wait by the door for him, your mind racing. As you stare at his broad back, your teeth worry at your bottom lip, wondering what he will have to say, then fret over what you're going to say to him. Is he just hoping to hook up again or does his interest go deeper than that? The way he's acting, it seems like it's more than that, but who knows? It's not like you really know him that well. Or at all, really. Jesus, this is nerve-wracking...

By the time Kyle has paid for his dry cleaning and is turning around, you have worked yourself up into a jittery mess. His smile dims as he takes in your nervous expression, concern plain on his face.

"Ya alright, pet?" he asks, stepping close to grasp your elbow. "You look like you're about to be sick."

Shaking your head, you offer him a weak smile. "No, no, I'm fine. I just feel a bit peckish," you lie, not wanting to make a scene. You can see Tattoo Girl staring daggers at the two of you, a petulant frown on her face. "Could we go ahead and get that coffee now? I think I need to sit down."

"Yeah, of course, love," Kyle murmurs, caressing your arm with a worried look. "C'mon, let's go."

He takes your umbrella from your numb fingers and opens the door, holding it for you as he snaps the brolly open over his head. Lifting his arm, he lays it across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he shifts the umbrella to shield you both from the rain. Casting another worried glance down at you, he leads you to a nearby sandwich shop and quickly ushers you inside.

"Here we go," he murmurs, guiding you over to a table. He takes the dry-cleaning bag from you and drapes it over the back of a chair with his own. "Here, love. Let me take your coat," he offers as he steps behind you, and you're so flustered that you let him slip the coat from your shoulders before realizing your mistake. Quaking in your shoes, you turn to face him.

Kyle stands frozen, his mouth open to say something, his eyes now riveted on your waistline. You glance down as well then stare up into his shocked face, your hands going to your stomach to splay over the gentle swell of your baby bump.

A pained grimace twists your features as you whisper in a shaky voice, "I suppose I should explain."

-

part 1 part 3

[whatislovevavy]

Hey, love I have a idea, picture this: imagine Jake give Cali a private lap dance for her birthday and she was so shy, that her blush, while Jake give her a wink and kiss on her hand. 😉😏🤠

Ooooo I like this. I like this idea a lot. 18+ below

--

"Jake, what are you doing?" His sweet Lass giggled from the couch. Your cheeks flushed from the drinks you had consumed while at the Hard Deck for the surprise birthday party Penny and Jake had thrown for you.

His back was turned to you, getting his spotify playlist up and connected to the new speaker system he and Javy bought.

"Just one last present for the birthday girl," he murmured, turning to give you a smirk and wink that had your cheeks heating and heat brewing your belly.

Your glassy eyes met his as the steady beat of Jake's playlist echoed in the room. His hips moving in the same intoxicating movement as when his thick cock was inside you, pulsing and hitting that little place inside of you that had your thighs shaking. His hips swaying flexibly from side to side. Your lips parted as he lifted up his taut black cotton shirt that hugged his biceps and pecs deliciously, the fabric giving way to marble carved abs and a defined Adonis belt. You couldn't help the moan that passed your lips at the sight, making his smirk grow into a lupine grin.

Your eyes widened as they caught sight of a peculiar piece of fabric peaking out from his snug jeans.

His eyes following yours to where his happy trail was barely covered.

"that's part of your birthday present, Lass."

His gaze was hot on yours as he slowly undid his obnoxiously large belt buckle, loosening his belt from the denim loops in one fell swoop. The act making your bare thighs clench together under your sundress and a gasp to leave your lips as his belt buckle landed against the hardwood floor with a clank.

He pulled his denim jeans down, the previously unknown fabric now making your face burn up and lips almost gape like a fish; a Texas state flag thong, barely containing his bulging, thick cock, with "Everything's Bigger in Texas" written across his hips.

You put your hands over your mouth, hiding your teasing smile and giggles.

You didn't know how to handle the mix of arousal and amusement at the sight.

Any words you wanted to say died on your lips as he grabbed his Stetson and began to prowl over to you with that characteristic Hangman swagger. His hips matching the beat of the song.

Your glassy wide eyes met his mischievous ones as he inched closer to you.

He leaned in, whispering in that tantalizing southern drawl, "happy birthday, Darlin'."

Your face was redder than the roses he got you for your birthday.

He chuckled as you reached out to touch his bare chest, gently holding your hand and kissing it on the palm.

"baby, you gotta pay extra to touch the merchandise" he murmured with a wicked smirk as he began oscillate and grind his hips against the thin layer of air separating you both.

His grin widened as he watched your eyes turn that molten sapphire hue he loved so much.

Your plush lip between your teeth made his eyes grow brighter.

Honestly, if he wanted to, he could leave the Navy and have a career as a stripper. A pretty successful one at that.

Your cheeks burned red as he began grinding his barely covered, throbbing dick against your thigh.

His grunts and groans accompanying his movements made you clench your thighs in need, feeling the steady flow of arousal into your thin cotton panties.

Your steadily building arousal could only be put off for so long.

You hooked your finger into the waist band of his thong to pull him closer, his smirk widening as he saw that glint of mischief and lust in your eyes.

"As much as I love my birthday present, and this little number, I think I'll like what's underneath it even more," you purred, gently palming his erection that was inches away from your face. Your doe eyes making his dick twitch against your silken fingertips.

"You know I could never deny you, pretty girl," he purred, leaning down, his tongue lathing at your pulse point as he gently left splashes of purple and pink along your neck. Your moans and whimpers spurring him on.

"The birthday girl always gets what she wants." He smirked before swiftly picking you up bridal style, his hand sneaking up to grab your ass under your sundress. You placed his Stetson on your head, giggling and biting at your lip.

He gave you a mock look of warning, "Lass, you know what happens when you wear my hat." His sultry tone made your velvet walls clench and your clit buzz against the soaked cotton of your panties.

You leaned towards his ear, the whisps of breath making his skin tingle, "maybe I want to ride the cowboy for my birthday."

Your sultry tone almost made him drop you.

He brought his lips to yours, adjusting you in his bulging arms against his pecs, "God, Caledonia, such a filthy girl. I fucking love you."

You giggled against his lips as he went up his stairs two at a time.

--

"God, fuck, right there, right fucking there," you moaned out, your thighs shaking against his lean waist as your release overcame you with a high-pitched whimper. Jake's Stetson still atop your head as he held a death grip on your hips, fucking diligently up into your welcoming cunt. Your hands frantically moving between your bare breasts and his thick pectorals, your nails leaving valleys of red in their wake.

"That's it, baby, that's it, sweetheart." His exertion graveled tone made you whimper and sigh. His thumb coming down to softly rub at your clit. Your moans and gasps making him grin, your pussy wrapping around him, keeping him tethered to the moment as his release overtook him with a deep guttural groan. The feeling of his release paint your walls had your stomach dancing and thighs quivering.

A satisfied smile on your lips and sleepy eyes made his heart warm. He held onto your waist as you leaned forward, your exhaustion taking over with a gentle smile. Jake placed a soft kiss against your forehead making you hum. Raising your head and eyes to his bright and content ones, you left a sweet kiss on his swollen lips, sighing as your lips met his.

"So, Lass, how'd you enjoy your birthday?" he murmured, smirking as he used the tip of his finger to move your (his) Stetson above your hairline.

You bit the inside of your cheek, hiding your bright grin, "It was perfect, thank you for making it so special."

His love filled smile brought your grin out, his lips meeting yours with a gentle moan.

"I have to ask," you pulled away, "where did you find that thong?"

His lip quirked, looking over to wear it was flung onto his window sill. "it was a special order, Myrtle found it and pulled a few strings."

Your cheeks burned at the thought of Myrtle now having more intimate knowledge of you and Jake's sex life, but she and her husband did own a sex toy shop. A sex toy shop you and Jake had sex in.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby, Myrtle likes you and wanted to help." He quirked his lip into a content smile.

"Plus, I thought I'd get more than one occasion out of it," he winked at you.

Your blush worsened, biting into your lip before pulling him into another kiss that quickly escalated into a dance of tongue and teeth.

You gently pulled away for air, much to his dismay.

"Mhm, I think you should definitely wear it more often," you murmured against his lips. He smirked into the kiss, puffs of laughter breaking through your shared embrace.

"I think that can be arranged, sweetheart."

[tiedyeflannels]

Red String Theory

Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 1.2k

Genre: established relationship, fluff

A/N: 'Sup! I thought I would take a quick break from Tae's series so I could write this fic for the man, the myth, the Moon that's coming home next month! She's kind of short, but I hope you enjoy!!

“Hey, Y/n/n,” Jin spoke, making me turn my head in his direction.

We were sitting on the couch together just watching the TV while taking a break from moving furniture. I raised my eyebrows and hummed to let him know to continue.

“I’ve got a question.”

I shifted toward him a little and put my legs across his. 

“Shoot,” I said, looking at him with full focus on what he was going to ask.

He looked down at my hands before pointing to my wrists, “Your bracelets. What are their meanings?”

A confused smile appeared on my lips, “What? My bracelets?”

He nodded, “Mhmm! You wear them all the time and never take them off, so what’s their story?”

I chuckled at the question, but nodded all the same.

“Okay, um…” I lifted up my right arm and spread the bracelets one wasn’t overlapping another.

“So these are just hair ties,” I said, stretching the two black bands wrapped around my wrist then letting them snap back.

“This one,” I pointed to a string friendship bracelet with different colors of blue, green and grays, “was given to me by a friend in college during a club we went to together.”

Then I pointed to the last one, which was a small silver bracelet with tiny diamonds spaced throughout.

“And this one’s obviously the one you gave me for our first anniversary.”

He smiled, “And that’s obviously my favorite one out of all of them! What about those?”

Just like I did before, I moved the bracelets making sure that they don’t overlap.

“These are just more friendship bracelets from some of the club members,” I pointed to two braided strings that were made up of three different colors each that were tied around my wrist.

 “And this one was made by my high school best friend,” I said, pulling apart the magnets then putting them back together.

I nodded at my finished explanation before Jim hooked a finger under the little red string around wrist.

“What about this one, hmm?”

I looked at him with a smile, “Have you heard of the ‘Red String Theory’?"

He shook his head at the question.

“So there was a TikTok that I had watched a while back and it was of this girl who was telling a story. So she was saying how she had seen something about the ‘red string theory’ and that it reminded her of something that had happened at her work. She worked at a store and this couple comes in and are trying things on and she’s smiling at their interaction because she thinks they’re cute.

“When they were ready, they went up to pay and then left the store. After they left, she saw something on the ground which happened to be a red bracelet-”

“No,” he gasped, fully immersed in the story.

I laughed, “Yes! She noticed that it was the same one the guy was wearing too. She thought that they would come back for it, so she put it in a drawer and forgot about it… until the next day,” I led on.

He simply nodded, urging me to go on.

“The girl that was with the guy the other day had come in asking if there was a red bracelet here. The cashier said yes and went to fish it out of the drawer, but while doing that she noticed the new ring on her finger and asked her about it. The girl had the biggest smile on her face and said that she couldn’t talk about it because it had just happened and would start crying, but thanked the cashier for the bracelet and the ‘congratulations’ she received before leaving the store.

“After that happened, she had searched up what the theory was and decided to wear one too. And she was wearing it for a few months, until she had started talking to a guy- I can’t remember if it was an old friend or someone new, but anyway- one day she was hanging out with her, now, boyfriend when she realized it fell off, making her wholeheartedly believe in the theory.”

“You didn’t explain what the theory was,” he said as I was just about to keep talking.

“I was just about to get to that,” I nudged him in feigned annoyance which made him chuckle.

“Sorry! Please continue,” he gestured.

I huffed.

“Anyway! It’s believed, in some cultures, that when people are fated to be soulmates there’s an invisible red string that ties them together. So if you wear a red bracelet and meet someone, then it’s supposed to fall off if they’re your soulmate,” I finished.

“Couldn’t that all chalk up to coincidence though,” Jin questioned, eyebrows furrowed. 

I shrugged, “Maybe so, but I’m a hopeless romantic so things like this or fate were always things that I loved which is why I started wearing one.”

“So then this,” he pulled at the red string bracelet, “Has never fallen off?” 

I looked down at the string and let out a chuckle before raising my head to look at Jin again.

“Actually, this is a different bracelet. The first one I started wearing after I watched the video fell off when we met.”

“WHAT?!” I nodded, biting back a smile, “Mhm, it was after that fateful day you spilled coffee on my jacket, invited me to eat to make up for it, then we spent the whole day walking around and talking.” 

I happily sighed at the memory, “I got home and realized that my bracelet wasn’t on my wrist anymore, but I didn’t really think anything of it because I had been wearing it for a long time until you texted me later that night to ask if we could go on a proper date… And now, here we are,” I gestured around our apartment.

He nodded, “Ah… so you wear that like a keepsake?”

I snapped my fingers and pointed at him, “Exactly! It reminds me of you and that day so I tend to look at it whenever I’m feeling down!”

He hummed before he looked at his own wrist, “Maybe I should wear one, too, so we could match.”

I chuckled, “Sure, come with me.”

I got up and took Jin’s hand, pulling him along to the kitchen where some of the moving boxes were. I dug through a few as Jin took a seat on a stool, then I found my embroidery string and took out the red one along with a pair of scissors.

Walking over to where he was sitting and taking a seat too, I had him hold out his wrist while I unwound the string, wrapped it around and tied it before cutting off the excess material.

“Tada,” I cheered, placing the items in my hands on the table.

“Hey Y/n,” Jin started and I turned to look at him, humming in question.

He grabbed both of my hands, “I’m really happy that we share this string.”

He kissed the top of my head as we sat in a peaceful silence and looked around at the piles of unopened boxes and half moved furniture in our new apartment.

Knowing what he meant by that statement, I rested my head on his shoulder and happily sighed.

“Me too, Jin.”

[thelastspeecher]

Weird Little Critter - Chapter 6: Transitions, Part 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 AO3

Here's the final part of what was meant to be one chapter but turned into three! I would normally space it out a bit more from the previous one, but I'll be going on vacation soon, and I wanted to get this posted before then. Here's this year's final chapter of "Weird Little Critter" from @elishevart and me. Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

                 Banjo reclined on the dock at Lake Gravity Falls, looking up at the clouds slowly lumbering across the bright blue sky.  His feet, freed of their shoes, dangled over the edge, dipping into the water, as did Stan’s.

                 “So, you bait a hook like this,” Stan said, drawing his attention.  Banjo looked over at him.  Stan was holding out a hook and a wriggling gray worm.

                 I know that kind of worm ain’t gray.  It’s pink.  Darn colorblindness.  Banjo tilted his head, a small smile playing around his lips as he watched Stan’s demonstration.  At least Stan’s charm ain’t affected by his color palette.  When Stan first came to stay with them, Angie had clashed with him constantly.  But there was something about him.  Stan just kept worming his way into Angie’s good graces with his cheesy sense of humor and random moments of kindness and warmth.  The budding emotions Angie had felt towards Stan weren’t changed now that she was Banjo.  If anything, they seemed to be stronger.  I ain’t sure what that could mean ‘bout me.  Banjo looked across the lake.  The dark blue water rippled lazily.  But I also ain’t sure if I want to open that door or leave it alone.

                 “Think you can do it yourself?” Stan asked.  Banjo rolled his eyes.  He sat up, grabbed the other fishing rod, and quickly baited the hook flawlessly, then cast it out into the lake.  Stan’s jaw dropped.

                 “I told ya I don’t like fishin’, not that I can’t do it,” Banjo drawled.  Stan grinned.  A faint blush spread across his cheeks.  Banjo felt his own face warm slightly in response.

                 “I thought you would be a bit squeamish about baiting the hook,” Stan said.  Banjo laughed.

                 “Stanley, I grew up on a farm.  I slaughtered my first chicken at five years old.”

                 “Oh.  Right.”  Stan laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.  “I forgot you grew up on a farm.  I just thought- you were a girl and-��  Stan cut himself off.

                 Smart move, feller.  You were headin’ fer dangerous territory there.

                 “I shoulda figured you wouldn’t mind the worms and stuff.”  Stan cast his own line.  “Why don’t you like fishing?”

                 “I don’t got the patience fer it,” Banjo sighed.  “I’ve always been what my folks called ‘spirited’.  Which is code fer never sittin’ still.”

                 “I know exactly what that’s like,” Stan said.  He coughed.  “So, uh, hate to break it to you, but I’ve got an ulterior motive for asking you to go fishing with me.”

                 “Oh?”

                 “Yeah.  Uh.”  Stan sighed.  “I need to ask you some stuff about when Ford is normally in his lizard form.”

                 “Salamander.”

                 “Same difference.  Anyways, what do you guys do?”

                 “Hmm?”

                 “During full moons.  When Ford’s not human.  What do you guys do?”

                 “Well, I ain’t been ‘round fer many moons yet,” Banjo said hesitantly.  “But we mostly do research on him, either in his study or the livin’ room.”  Stan swatted away a fly that was buzzing around his head.

                 “And by research you mean…?”

                 “I write down observations ‘bout him.  Things to help figure out more ‘bout his condition, y’know.”

                 “So no fun,” Stan said flatly.  Banjo frowned at him.

                 “It might not be yer idea of fun, but remember, we’re scientists.  We find this sort of thing quite fun.  And it’s to better understand his condition, so’s it’s two birds with one stone.”

                 “Okay, hear me out.”  Stan seemed to be choosing his words carefully.  “I get the two of you nerding out being nerds and actually liking doing research.  But…would it still be fun if you were the one being researched?”

                 “I…”  Banjo swallowed.  The question was simple, yet ominous.  “I don’t rightly know.”  Stan nodded.

                 “I’m gonna tell you what I know,” he said.  “After we got home last night, when Ford was all gray, I gave him some food.  I expected him to just go to his tank or something.  But he stayed with me, curled up on my lap while I watched TV.”

                 “I walked by later to grab some water.  I didn’t see him on yer lap.”

                 “Yeah, ‘cause he scurried away when you went through the room,” Stan said.  Banjo’s blood ran cold.  He could feel the color draining from his face.

                 “He- he was scared of me?”  Banjo set aside the fishing rod.  He put his head in his hands.  “I- I-”  The idea was foreign to him.

                 My whole life, I ain’t never scared a single soul.  ‘Cept that one time I sleepwalked into Fidds’ bedroom.  How could I have scared Stanford?  Tears began to prick the corners of Banjo’s eyes.  I didn’t mean to!  He’s my friend!  A warm hand rested on his shoulder.  Banjo looked up.

                 “I don’t think you scared him,” Stan said softly.  “I think…”  Stan sighed.  “When we were kids, our parents took Ford to a million doctors because of his hands.  He got better about it when we got older, since he stopped being poked and prodded as much, but I don’t think he ever really got over his fear of doctors.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he still tries to put off appointments for as long as he can.”

                 “You think that my studyin’ him is bringin’ up bad memories?” Banjo asked.  Stan nodded.  “But- but he was the one what wanted me to study him!  He wanted to learn more ‘bout his condition!”

                 “He probably didn’t think it through,” Stan said.  “Everyone does stuff without thinking sometimes.”

                 “Fair enough,” Banjo mumbled.  Stan squeezed his shoulder.

                 “All I’m saying is that it might be a good idea for you guys to take a break from the research stuff.  I know you couldn’t see him gray, but it was- it wasn’t great.  I don’t wanna see him like that again.”

                 “Agreed.”

                 “And who knows, maybe he’ll stop being so down on his salamander self once he gets to experience it without being a test subject,” Stan said cheerfully.  Banjo managed a small smile.

                 “That would be nice.”  Banjo elbowed Stan.  “Hey, you called him the right kind of critter!”

                 “I listen, I just don’t care,” Stan said with a shrug.  Banjo laughed.  The bobber of Banjo’s fishing rod wiggled briefly, then began to move.  “Looks like you’ve got a bite!”  Without warning, Banjo’s fishing rod, resting on the deck beside him, shot off.  Banjo attempted to grab the rod rocketing away from him.  His eyes widened as he felt himself begin to topple forward.

                 Shoot!  My center of gravity ain’t what it usually is!  It was too late.  Banjo hit the cold water of the lake.  A split second later, he heard a faint splash.  A large arm wrapped around his torso, pulling him to the surface.

                 “You okay?” Stan asked.  Banjo stared at him.  Stan’s long, dark hair was soaked, sticking to his face and neck.

                 “Why’d ya jump in after me?” Banjo asked numbly.  Stan blinked.

                 “You didn’t grow up near the ocean like me.  I didn’t know if you knew how to swim.”

                 “Wh-”  Banjo covered his mouth, trying to muffle the laughter bubbling up from his chest.  “S-Stanley, I grew up swimmin’ in lakes just like this one!”

                 “Oh.”  Stan winced.  “Right.  I guess I didn’t think.”

                 “It’s okay.  I didn’t either.  I should’ve known better ‘n to try to grab somethin’ what was already off the dock.”

                 “I’ve never seen a fishing rod move like that.  Maybe it’s best that you didn’t catch it.  Who knows what was on the end of the line?”

                 “In Gravity Falls?  Just ‘bout anything you can imagine,” Banjo said.  He reached out for the dock and gripped it.  A few wooden splinters dug into his hands as he pulled himself up.  Beside him, Stan was doing the same thing.  They sat on the dock for a few moments before bursting into laughter.  “I can’t believe ya went in after me instead of just waitin’ fer me to surface!” Banjo chuckled.

                 “Sue me for not wanting you to drown,” Stan said, punching Banjo’s shoulder playfully.

                 “I’m a grown adult!”

                 “I don’t know your life!  How was I supposed to know they teach you how to swim in whatever podunk town you come from?” Stan retorted.  He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it to one side of his head.  Their laughter slowly died down.  “Guess we better go back to the house and dry off.”

                 “Yeah.”  Banjo slipped on his blessedly dry shoes.  “Bein’ in wet jeans is awful miserable.”

                 “Wanna come back to the lake to fish after we change?” Stan asked, putting on his own shoes and socks.  Banjo cocked his head.

                 “I don’t know ‘bout fishin’.  But we could come back and go fer a hike or somethin’.  Did ya know there’s a secret cave behind the waterfall?”

                 “Really?”  Stan’s eyes widened with interest.  He leaned in, ever so slightly.  Banjo’s breath caught in his throat.

                 No, no, don’t think ‘bout his wet T-shirt stickin’ to his chest, don’t think ‘bout his hair draped over one shoulder, don’t think ‘bout the sun shinin’ off the water droplets on his skin.  Banjo swallowed.  Welp.  Given I just explicitly thought out all of that, I ain’t doin’ a great job not thinkin’ ‘bout it.

                 “I’m not usually into hikes,” Stan said, not noticing Banjo’s reaction to his close proximity.  “But a secret cave?  That actually sounds interesting.”

                 “Oh, g-good,” Banjo stammered.  He could feel his face burning.  Stan stood up.  He held out a hand.  Banjo took it.  Stan pulled him to his feet.

                 “Let’s head to the car.  I’m already getting sick of being soaked.”  The two headed down the dock, water dripping from their drenched clothes.  “How much you wanna bet Ford’s still in his room when we get back?”

                 “Ugh.  I ain’t takin’ that bet.  From his tone earlier, I get the feelin’ he’s only goin’ to leave fer food.”  Banjo sighed.  “Which stinks, since I want to talk to him ‘bout what we talked ‘bout.”

                 “Maybe you should set up camp on the couch,” Stan suggested.  They got to the car.  Banjo frowned down at the ground while he waited for Stan to fish out his keys.

                 “I might just do that.  All I can do is hope he gets hungry enough to go to the kitchen ‘fore I fall asleep.”

—--

                 Ford’s vision was somehow better in the dark than in the light, he was discovering.  As he made his way to the kitchen on all fours, he was able to see furniture that he had struggled with the night before, when he was watching television with Stan while all the lights were on.

                 When he got to the living room, Ford slowed down to make his footsteps extra quiet, as, for some reason, Banjo was on the couch.  Luckily, he was facing away, sleeping deeply.  Ford got to the kitchen and quickly but silently rummaged through the fridge.  His stomach rumbled hungrily, the result of his skipped dinner.  But Ford hadn’t wanted to come across Stan or Banjo.

                 Thankfully, there were some leftover mealworm patties from a few days ago that could be eaten cold.  Ford grabbed the container in his mouth and closed the refrigerator door with his back legs.  He exited the kitchen.

                 As he walked past Banjo, the sleeping man stirred slightly.

                 “Mm…” Banjo said longingly.  Ford froze.  “Oh, yes,” Banjo moaned, still fast asleep.  “Yes, Stanley!  Yes…”  Ford’s face began to burn.

                 Shit.  Shit!  I really don’t need to hear my friend salivating over my twin brother!

                 Ford scurried to his study as fast as his stumpy legs would let him and half-closed the door behind him. Exhausted from the sprint, he dropped the tupperware on the floor to catch his breath. He held his head in his hands and tried to process what had happened. 

                 Okay, think, Stanford… 

                 He didn’t have to think much at all.  It was maddeningly clear, looking back.  His twin and Angie had been bickering from the start. Somewhere along the way, that bickering had turned into playful teasing, possibly even flirting.  And even now that Angie was temporarily Banjo, the sparks and chemistry between the two were still present.

                 Not to mention, it sounds like Stan has been preventing Banjo from having a mental breakdown over this whole situation, by keeping him distracted and happy.

                 The big axolotl sat on his hind legs to lean against the glass of his tank.  He  idly picked a patty to munch on. It wasn’t rocket science what was happening between his brother and friend, but it still made him wonder where he stood.  True, they were both adults, responsible for their own decisions.  And he would be glad to see them finding happiness with each other.  Though, frankly, it didn’t seem to be his business.

                 But something nagged at the back of his mind.  A worry about what would happen if it all went south.  If the worst came to fruition, and Banjo/Angie and Stan became antagonistic towards each other, would he have to choose one?  Could he?

                 A few bites later and Ford had finished all the patties in the box.  He yawned widely.  He squinted toward the clock on his wall, but couldn’t make out what time it was. Late enough that even he, a notorious night owl, could feel tired. He stretched his front legs and arched his back, making his tail curl over him. Likely, he resembled a cat at that moment. He shook his head thinking how Banjo would have probably found it adorable. Or would he?

                 Tiredness was creeping into his limbs and mind.  Ford abandoned those thoughts in favor of focusing on climbing the ramp they had put in his study for him to reach his tank. He dived lazily in the water and slowly drifted toward the bottom. 

                 Stanford immediately felt better in the water, almost wanting to swim a little, but his tank was sadly too small for him to move around much. Granted, the tank was a great update from the tub, but he couldn’t help but remember the brief giant tank he had been stuck in. It had been perfect.  It even had fish and small water currents…

                 Ford closed his eyes, thinking of that giant tank.  He soon drifted off to sleep.

——

                 Stanford had just pulled on his robe, his hair still damp with water from his tank and eyelids heavy from sleep when he heard someone clear their throat. He jumped and spun around to see a blurry figure in the doorway with caramel-colored hair. 

                  “Banjo?” he asked as he fumbled for his glasses. Once on his nose the figure came into focus to reveal his friend. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

                  “I needed to talk to ya. About everything,” the southerner said, still standing in the doorway. “I noticed how ya avoided me and figured I’d corner ya here ‘fore you could run.”

                 The knot in Ford’s stomach came back, along with the shame he had felt for the past few days. It was true. He had been so embarrassed that he had simply opted to ignore his friend, vainly hoping it would go away. He should have thought better since it hadn’t really worked with his twin. Would he have ignored Banjo, or, starting tomorrow, Angie for five years? He shook his head with a sigh and invited his friend to step into the room. Banjo did so, closing the door behind him.

                  “Yes, I have been distant for the past few days,” Ford started slowly. He hung his head low, bracing himself against his tank and avoiding eye contact. He couldn’t help but blink a couple of times as his vision became blurry again. He scowled, frustrated by the tears obscuring his vision despite his glasses. He kept staring at his hands to stay focused. “I- I apologize. I misread your feelings over your situation and thought you were just having the… time of your life. It was an illogical conclusion to come to, given my own emotions when I myself undergo a change each month.” His voice choked up, a shuddering breath caught in his throat.  “I should have thought before reacting. I truly, deeply apologize.”

                 He closed his eyes and waited. 

                 After a few minutes a long sigh came from the other side of the room. 

                  “It’s true that yer lil blow-up was uncalled fer,” Banjo said softly.  “Don’t worry, though, I accept yer apology.”  Ford’s shoulders slumped in relief.  Part of him had worried Banjo would hold a grudge.  “But…” Banjo paused.  “It’s come to my attention that there might be a dif’rent reason you lashed out.” 

                 Ford swallowed the lump of emotion stuck in his throat. 

                  “I have no idea what you could be talking about,” he whispered.

                  “I might have been startled and, quite frankly, scared by yer outburst, but I was listenin’.  When ya blew up at me, ya rattled off a long list of grievances,” Banjo said, his voice quiet and level.  “It’s quite clear that ya ain’t lost any of the frustration over yer sit’ation.” Ford’s head shot up.  He finally met Banjo’s eyes. 

                  “I was just-” he started. Banjo held up a hand. Ford fell silent.

                  “Stanford, yer brother explained to me that, due to yer polydactyly, you had an awful lot of exams ‘n tests ‘n whatnot done on you when you were just a lil one.  He told me those negative emotions ‘n memory ‘re prob’ly why ya don’t go to the doctor near as often as you should. Well, that ‘n yer good old-fashioned stubbornness ‘n procrastination.”  Ford felt himself blush at the incredibly accurate assessment.  He remained silent, staring at his hands, his twelve fingers intertwined with each other. “I think we went about your curse all wrong.”

                 “What do you mean?”

                 Banjo sighed. “Ever since I got here, we’ve been doin’ research on ya.  Every time ya turn, every night of the full moon, I’m examinin’ ya like yer my study subject.”  Ford glanced up long enough to see Banjo’s worried expression, then quickly downcast his eyes again.  “We turned yer time as an axolotl into a- a chore. Every time you turn, I’m right there takin’ notes, writin’ things down, pokin’ ‘n proddin’ ‘n photographin’ ya and…”  Banjo sighed again. “What I’m gettin’ at is that yer hate fer yer amphibious side might partly be rooted in that.”

                  “But I agreed to it!” Ford protested. “From the start, I have wanted, no, needed to know what is happening to me!  I want answers!”

                 “I know,” Banjo said gently.  His voice was almost maddeningly calm. “Don’t get me wrong, I want ‘em too.  But we went about this the wrong way.  We need to slow down.” Banjo took a pause. “Stan told me how the night we went to the Crawlspace you turned gray, acted all odd.” Ford’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “But once we got home, you loosened up, actually seemin’ happy with Stan.”

                 As he idly played with his annoyingly blue streaked hair, a few memories came back to Ford from that night. They were all a bit blurry, but had a feeling of being warm and happy.  A feeling he struggled to recall experiencing often in his amphibious form.  He looked at Banjo.

                  “I admit that some aspects of this curse are infuriating to me. All right,” he said.  Banjo smiled hesitantly.  “What do you suggest?”  Banjo’s smile strengthened.

                  “We take a pause from observin’ and analyzin’ ya. Give ya a break. I’ve got plenty of data to keep me occupied anyway.  Of course, I might still write down some observations here and there, but I won’t be askin’ or pokin’ ya anymore,” Banjo elaborated.  Ford nodded. 

                  “That sounds reasonable.” He walked to his desk and opened a drawer.  After taking a steadying breath, he pulled out a few pieces of paper to hand to Banjo. “You might need these. You’ll have more use of them than I do, anyways.”  Banjo carefully took the papers from him.  He looked down at them in awe.

                  “Is that…?”

                 “Yes, the test results from the vet. I trust you’ll use them well.”

                 Cradling the documents in his hands, the southerner nodded. “I will! Promise!”

                 Ford nodded in return and smiled.  It was the first one he’d shared with his friend for far too long. An easy silence settled between the two until Stanford broke it.

                 “If we are taking a break from studying, what should we do?” he asked.  Banjo laughed.  It still sounded eerily like Fiddleford.

                  “Whatever ya want, silly.”

                  “In that case…”  Ford decided to broach the topic that had been bothering him the night before. “I don’t feel comfortable going back to the lake anytime soon, but I was wondering if we could do something about my tank.”

                 Tilting his head, Banjo looked at the tank behind Ford. “What’s wrong with yer tank?”

                 “Nothing.”

                  “But?” Banjo prompted.

                  “It’s adequate to sleep in but too small for me to actually swim.  I quite enjoyed the freedom of the tank in the Northwest mansion,” Ford confessed.  Banjo nodded slowly.  “You’re the expert when it comes to animal enclosures, with your history working for a zoo.  What do you think we could do?”  Banjo beamed.

                  “I reckon there’s quite a few things we could do to make ya more comfortable!  Once I’m back to m’ proper self, I’ll make some calls.  I’ve already got somethin’ in mind.”

                  “Excellent.”  Ford paused.  Something Banjo had said earlier was bothering him.  “You said that Stan told you I turned gray,” he said after a moment.  “You didn’t notice?”

                 “Yeah, uh, turns out Banjo is colorblind,” Banjo said with a shrug.  Ford’s jaw dropped.  Banjo smiled.  “So, what do ya want fer breakfast?”

—--

                 “Hello there stranger,” gushed yet another of the bachelorettes of Gravity Falls.

                 “Oh, uh, howdy, miss,” Banjo said awkwardly.  He politely tipped his cowboy hat, which Stan had convinced him to wear, as it was his last night as Banjo.  The woman giggled.

                 “Can I buy you a drink?” she asked eagerly.

                 “Um.  I think I’m set.”  Banjo held up his glass of whiskey.  The woman pouted.  “Thank you fer offerin’, though.”  The woman walked away, visibly disappointed.  Banjo began to head back to the booth Stan and Ford were sitting at, only to be intercepted by yet another woman.

                 “Dammit, can’t he drop the whole ‘proper southern gentleman’ thing long enough to sit down?” Stan grumbled.  Ford chuckled.  “This is our last night as three guys!  And he’s spending half of it getting flirted with.”  After a relaxing day at home, Stan had finally convinced Banjo and Ford to go out to a bar.  However, the women of Gravity Falls were enthralled by Banjo’s “exotic” way of speaking, good looks even in the bar’s dim lighting, and southern manners.  As such, their advances kept interrupting the boys’ night out.

                 “Can you blame them?” Ford asked.  Stan’s face softened as he watched Banjo frantically trying to politely turn down the woman talking to him.

                 “No.  I can’t.”

                 “You, uh…”  Ford stirred his non-alcoholic drink.  He had offered to be the designated driver, as he hadn’t tried any alcohol since becoming afflicted with his curse and wasn’t sure if he’d have a strange reaction to it.  “You seem to be rather…fond of him.”

   ��             “He’s nice,” Stan said with a shrug.  Ford nodded.  “And he appreciates my sense of humor.  Not a lot of people do.”  Stan frowned.  His eyes flicked over to Ford.  “Wait.  You were saying that like…”

                 “I recall well how you acted when you first developed a crush on Carla McCorkle,” Ford remarked.  “I’ve been seeing the same behaviors popping up from you as of late.”  Stan’s face reddened.  The crappy song being played by the horrible cover band in the corner ended.  A new one started.  Ford waited patiently for Stan to say something.

                 I’ve got plenty of time before Banjo gets back.  He’s too polite to turn down any of these women quickly.  Ford stirred his drink and watched Stan’s face turn redder and redder.  Sweet Moses, is he ever going to crack?  After what felt like ages, Stan finally sighed.

                 “Fine,” he muttered.  His gaze dropped to the table.  “I- I’ve got a thing for Angie.  But I’m not- I- it started when he was Angie, so I’m not- I’m not into men or- or-”

                 “Stanley, you know full well my own, ah, romantic inclinations,” Ford said quietly.  “Do you really think I would judge you for being interested in both Angie and Banjo?”  Stan traced out a few letters in the condensation on the table from their drink glasses.

                 “I- I guess not.”

                 “Are you going to make a move?” Ford asked.  Stan looked up at him, aghast.

                 “Are you a fucking idiot?” he hissed.  “I’ve done a lotta stupid shit, that might be the stupidest thing I could ever do!”

                 “Why?” Ford pressed.  “Since when have you worried about shooting your shot?”

                 “Wh- because- he- she-” Stan stammered.  He paused and took a breath.  “We live together.  If he turns me down, that’ll fuck up the mood in the house.”  Stan turned his head to watch Banjo, who was now desperately attempting to escape the clutches of three women.  “I’ve been homeless before, Ford.  I’m not gonna risk losing a roof over my head just to hit on someone outta my league.”

                 “You think he’s out of your league?”

                 “He told me he’s got a doctorate,” Stan scoffed.  “I didn’t even graduate high school!”

                 “There’s more to compatibility than how much education one has,” Ford said gently.  Stan grunted wordlessly.  Ford looked down at the ice cubes melting in his drink.  “Don’t tell Banjo, but I overheard him last night and- I think you should take a chance.  Your feelings are more mutual than you think.”

                 “Are you sure?” Stan asked.  Ford met Stan’s eyes and nodded.  “If this all goes to shit, it’s your fault, okay?”  Ford quirked a half-smile.

                 “Understood.”

                 “Whew!”  Banjo slid into the booth, sitting right next to Stan.  His caramel-colored hair was getting sweaty in the warm bar and sticking to his face.  “I fin’ly got away from those ladies.”  He shook his head.  “I ain’t got the foggiest idea why they’re tryin’ so hard to get romantic with me.”

                 “Really?” Stan and Ford asked together.  Banjo blinked.

                 “Yes?  Should- should I know?”

                 “You’re nice and cute, man,” Stan said dismissively.  Banjo’s cheeks turned pink.  “And people in town only know Angie.  They don’t know Banjo.  So you’re exciting and new.”

                 “Ah.”  Banjo coughed politely.  “I- I see.”

                 “You were gone for so long I finished my drink,” Stan complained.  Banjo looked down at his own glass.

                 “I finished mine, too,” he said sadly.

                 “What were you drinking?” Ford asked.

                 “Whiskey, neat,” Banjo replied.  Ford nodded and got up.

                 “I’ll get the two of you some new drinks.  Stan, perhaps you could talk to Banjo like we discussed.”

                 “Sixer!” Stan hissed at Ford.  Banjo looked back and forth between the twins.

                 “The two of ya discussed somethin’?”

                 “Yes.”  Ford stared intensely at Stan, who shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.  “And I fully expect him to take what I said to heart.”  Ford strode away from the table.  As he waited at the bar, he glanced back at Stan and Banjo.  Stan had leaned over to whisper something into Banjo’s ear.  It was difficult to tell in the bar’s horrible lighting and cigarette smoke-filled air, but Ford could have sworn he saw Banjo blush fiercely.

—--

                 The rays of the morning sun filtered through the window of Stan’s bedroom.  As the light fell upon his face, Stan opened his eyes.  His eyes widened.  He wasn’t alone in bed.  The events of the night before came rushing back to him.

                 Oh.  Oh, shit.  The person lying next to him rolled over.  Instead of handsome Banjo, it was Angie’s adorable face.  She’s back to normal.  Huh.  Stan reached out a hand to stroke her cheek.  Angie smiled at the gesture.  Are we still gonna-  Before Stan could finish  his thought, Angie opened her eyes.  Her smile broadened.

                 “Good mornin’,” she said softly.  Stan grinned at her.

                 “Morning.”

                 “I missed how ya looked with full color vision.”

                 “Yeah?”

                 “Yeah.”  Angie sat up, stretching.  The blanket covering her fell away, exposing her bare chest.  Stan inhaled sharply.

                 Damn, she’s gorgeous.  Stan sat up as well.  Angie looked at him, clearly expecting him to say something.  Stan cleared his throat.

                 “I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he said.  Angie cocked her head.  Her caramel-colored locks bounced from the movement, falling into her face.  Stan tucked her hair behind her ear.  “I went to bed with a handsome guy and woke up with a beautiful girl.”  Angie beamed at him.

                 Yes!  It landed!

                 “Yer quite the charmer, Stanley Pines.”

                 “Not everyone thinks so.”

                 “Good thing I do,” Angie purred.  Stan’s smile broadened.  He leaned in, planting a kiss on her lips.  It was different from kissing Banjo, but somehow the same.  They pulled apart.

                 “So, uh, do you think we’re- uh, we’re gonna keep this thing going?” Stan asked.  Angie frowned thoughtfully.  “Ya know, doing…stuff together?”  Angie snickered.

                 “Not the most romantic way to ask me to try datin’ ya,” she said.  “That is, if that’s what yer sayin’.”  Stan nodded.  “Well, sure.  I was Banjo last night, but I was still me.  Just in a body built a bit dif’rent.  I don’t see why we can’t try out bein’ together.”

                 “Sounds good to me, sweet cheeks,” Stan said.  Angie giggled.  Stan leaned in to kiss her again.  The bedroom door slammed open.  Angie yelped, grabbing the blanket and covering herself with it.  Stan whipped his head around.  His twin stood in the doorway.

                 “Stanley, we have to-” Ford started.  He paused, taking in the scene before him.  “Ah.  I am glad to see you back to yourself, Angie.”

                 “It- uh, it’s good to be m’self again,” Angie squeaked.  Her face was beet red.  Stan was reminded of the embarrassment she’d displayed on the morning she woke up as Banjo.

                 “Come on, Sixer, learn how to knock,” Stan said, rolling his eyes.

                 “In my defense, I wasn’t expecting this.”  A small smile appeared on Ford’s face.  “Though perhaps I should have.”  Stan felt his own cheeks burn.

                 “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

                 “The two of you are not very subtle.”

                 “Well I think you-” Stan started.

                 “Uh, boys, if ya don’t mind, I’d like to go get dressed,” Angie interrupted.  Longing shone on her face.  “I’m awful excited to wear my old clothes again.”

                 “Here, you can make yourself decent with this.”  Ford tossed one of Stan’s shirts, which had been on the floor, to Angie.  Angie caught it.  Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

                 “It smells.”

                 “That’s just the musk of a man, hot stuff,” Stan said.  He wagged his eyebrows at her.

                 “Hmm.  I think I disagree.”  Angie sighed.  “But beggars can’t be choosers.”  She slipped the shirt on, climbed out of the bed, and scurried away.  Stan watched her leave, wishing that his shirt wasn’t so long on her it covered her cute little tuchus.

                 “Would I be correct in assuming that the two of you will continue to be…together?” Ford asked once Angie was gone.  Stan shrugged.

                 “Seems to be the plan.  At least for now.”

                 “I see.”  Ford’s eyes narrowed.  “Don’t blow it,” he said, his voice serious.  Stan grinned.

                 “I wasn’t planning on it.”

                 “Genuinely, I don’t want things to sour between the two of you.  It would make living together…difficult.”

                 “Stanford.”  Stan lowered his voice, hoping to convey that he was being just as serious.  “I’m not gonna screw this up.”  Ford nodded.

                 “Good.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I don’t want to choose between you and Angie.”

                  “Sixer, we aren’t married.  And you aren’t our kid.”

                  “Still, my friendships with you and Angie are precious to me.”

                  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”  Stan rolled his eyes.  “Get outta here so I can get dressed.”

—--

                 “C’mon, babe, you can’t be distracting me like this,” Stan complained.  “Breakfast is serious business!”

                 “Mm-hmm,” Angie purred.  She wrapped her arms around Stan’s torso from behind and leaned her head against his back.  “And how many times did ya bother me when I was doin’ the serious business of makin’ breakfast?”

                 “That was different, I was just telling you the right way to cook.”

                 “Ya didn’t mind my cookin’ yesterday mornin’.”  Angie stood on her tiptoes to kiss Stan on the cheek.  Stan grinned.  He set down his spatula and turned, pulling Angie into a deep kiss.  Ford stifled a groan.

                 I don’t know whether the constant bickering was worse or better than this constant flirting.  Now that Angie and Stan got along swimmingly, Ford had assumed that breakfast would be smoother.  He had been wrong.  If anything, Stan and Angie’s relationship made the first meal of the day more chaotic, as the two were all over each other to the point of forgetting whatever was cooking on the stove.

                 “You’re going to burn the bacon again,” Ford said loudly.  He finished his last bite of bug sausage, a new recipe that Angie and Stan had worked together on.  Stan pulled away from Angie.

                 “Huh?  Oh, shit!”  Stan spun around, quickly adjusting the heat of the stove.  “Ang, I told you not to distract me!”

                 “It’s fine,” Angie said.  “Nothin’ wound up burnin’.”  She fluttered her eyes at Stan coquettishly.  Stan grinned, his cheeks pink.

                 “You’re crazy hot when you’re sabotaging breakfast.”

                 “And yer quite the attractive feller when yer makin’ breakfast.”  Angie ran her fingers through Stan’s hair.  “And when yer not makin’ breakfast.”  Ford put his head in his hands.

                 I’m going to get a migraine.  Or, given how cloyingly sweet they’re being, a cavity.  The phone rang.  Ford sighed in relief.

                 “I’ll get it,” he said quickly.  Stan and Angie ignored him as he got up from the table and went into the living room.  He picked up the phone.  “This is Stanford Pines.”

                 “Stanford Pines!” a very familiar voice drawled.  A smile began to spread across Ford’s face.  “I was expectin’ my sister to pick up.  She and I have been discussin’ plans fer a project what has to do with some sort of critter.”

                 “A…project?”

                 “It’s all very hush-hush, apparently.  I was gettin’ the impression she wanted it to be a surprise fer you.”

                 “A surprise?” Ford murmured.  His eyes widened.  He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Banjo the week before.

                  “I reckon there’s quite a few things we could do to make ya more comfortable!  Once I’m back to m’ proper self, I’ll make some calls.  I’ve already got somethin’ in mind.”

                  “Is Angie busy?” prompted the man on the other end of the phone.  Ford glanced in the direction of the kitchen.  He could hear Stan and Angie continuing with their incessant flirtation.

                  “Yes, she is.”

                  “Well, it is yer house.  I might as well discuss when I’ll be comin’ up to see y’all.”

                  “That sounds like a splendid idea.”  Ford leaned against the wall, playing idly with the phone cord.

                  “Splendid!” laughed the other man.  “Oh, how I’ve missed ya.”  Ford smiled again.

                  “I… I’ve missed you as well, Fiddleford.”

[abibliophobiaa]

hello lunieee

I would like to request some dad!Steve-

HAH

just kidding.

I would love some dad!Eddie in the summer playing with his tween kid - maybe running through the sprinkler or someone gets sprayed with the hose, maybe eating ice pops, but most important of all is Eddie being a nerdy, kinda lame adorkable dad that his kid both loves and cringes at. Bonus points if we are watching him and really feelin' a surge of attraction or affection based on his antics.

thank you love youuu 💕

Gone Fishing: Just Go With It…

warnings: r is pregnant, minor injury & barely edited — i needed something soft, sweet and fluffy today. (2.6k words)

dad!eddie munson x afab!mom!reader.

masterlist

——

It’s meant to be a joke.

A little Russian Roulette game, if you will. A precursor to the barbecue plans with your friends for the summer festivities to determine if the pitcher of sangria Robin put her heart and soul into will end up going to waste.

Once you’ve all taken your tests, Max and El have you all turn around and scramble the order. When ready, you all turn around to find the three tests face up on the countertop.

“Mine’s negative,” Robin says, dramatically wiping the back of her hand over her brow. “What a relief!”

But she’s met only with silence.

Until. “Holy shit,” Max breathes out, trying to not break out into incredulous laughter.

“That one is definitely positive,” El points out, hooking her chin over Nancy’s shoulder.

Two lines.

Two very dark lines.

So you…or Nancy.

Baby number four for her, or number three for you.

Shit.

Nancy bites her lip. Turns to you, smile a little hopeful despite the fact your nerves are buzzing to life at the prospect of another baby when you and Eddie hadn’t intended for another baby.

“Guess we have to take another,” she says, reaching for more test strips.

——

“Hey man, can you watch Quinnie?” Eddie asks, passing off the giggly two year old to her honorary uncle. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom.”

And they prove to be famous last words.

Words that change a lot.

Because as he’s washing his hands, humming a song that had been playing on the radio before he’d run inside, he spots the tests.

Multiple tests.

He’s seen a few since becoming a dad to know what two lines or a smiley face means.

He also knows that you, Nancy, Robin, El and Max had all gone to the bathroom at the same time to ‘take care of something.’

So despite it being his bathroom, in his home, he’s not sure if it’s your test.

But, he does know someone is pregnant.

Someone standing outside in his backyard just a few feet away.

The sudden realization hits him then. Either he’s becoming an uncle again to four, or a father of three.

Shit.

——

“And you’re sure?” Steve asks, carding his fingers through his hair. Eddie pulls the strips out of his pocket and Steve whisper-yells, “There’s pee on those!”

“Grow up, Harrington, they’ve got the caps on. We have bigger things to worry about.” Eddie holds the tests in the space between the two of them, bent low near the grill, far away from the rest of the guests.

In the distance he can see you and Nancy watching the youngest Harringtons and Munsons in the pool while the older “kids” watch on. James’ laughter echoes as Dustin and Lucas toss him up into the air and catch him, his little rubber ducky floaties keeping him from slipping too far beneath the water’s surface.

You’re glowing, Quinn bouncing on your hip, wearing the same brightly colored summer dress you’re wearing that flutters around your thighs in the cool summer breeze. And he wonders briefly whether or not you carry a little secret beneath your heart.

“So one of us is pregnant?” Steve exhales deeply as Eddie nods, running a palm down his face. “Look—I know I said I wanted six, but I’m overrun by girls at the moment, Ed. Do you know how terrifying throwing a fourth girl into the mix is?”

Steve’s gaze travels over to Nancy and his three little girls. One reaches out to grab at her little ‘cousin’ Quinn, while the other two try to quite literally become mermaids in the pool, little legs kicking behind them, spraying Mike Wheeler in the face until he’s redder than a damn tomato.

“What do you think we should do?” Eddie asks, flipping over the burgers on the grill, waving as you look over your shoulder and give him one of your wonderful smiles he loves so much.

“Should we ask them?” Steve wonders, tossing some cheese on top, both men watching with increasing nervousness over their present (potential) situations.

“No—no, you absolutely cannot ask them if they’re pregnant.” Eddie shoves the bag of burger buns into his best friend’s chest. “Start laying the buns in that container right there. Yeah, that one. But as I was saying…asking a woman if she’s pregnant is enough to get you as number one on their to-kill list. Do you not fear death?”

Steve seems to consider this, swallowing thickly as he lays out the buns in the tin container so Eddie can begin loading burgers on top. “Nancy will murder me in my sleep.”

“Exactly.” Once the burgers are loaded up, he calls out into the open yard that dinner is ready and then claps Steve on the shoulder. “Best plan of action is to be supportive, remain calm, and act natural.”

——

“Are the guys being a little weird?” You ask, running your fingers through Quinn’s little curls, the two year old dozing against your chest.

“You two married the weirdest guys in Hawkins,” Robin says, sipping her cup of sangria. “I’d say this is within normal limits for them.”

“Steve knocked my drink out of my hand,” Nancy points out, pulling at a piece of cookie and popping it into her mouth.

“And Eddie kept demanding I eat more,” you add, laughing at the memory of your overly eager husband adding more macaroni salad to your plate as soon as you’d finished your first spoonful. “He also kept asking me if I should be holding Quinn.”

The men in question are presently standing in the yard bare chested in their swimsuits, with the sprinkler running. The kids rush through the stream all taking turns, still donning their little pool floaties, little shrieks of joy and peals of infectious laughter warming your heart.

Because you and Eddie finally saved up enough to buy this home, and are now sharing it with your friends who are more likely family now, and seeing the happiness on all their faces has made all the endless hours of work, hardships and obstacles so worth it.

So no, you can’t help the fear that wedges into your heart if you disrupt all of that.

——

“J! NO!”

Quinn whines from Eddie’s lap as James leans over and snatches a marshmallow from the bag his daughter is insistent upon keeping clutched in her tiny palms.

“Quinnie, give me!”

Quinn’s newest favorite word in the dictionary other than Momma and Dadda?

No.

She uses it so often, Eddie sometimes forgets she’s picked up others throughout the past few months.

“NO!”

This time, her little fingers curl in her brother’s hair and give a harsh tug. Hard enough he winces and scrambles onto Eddie’s lap, knocking the wind from him when his knobby knee jabs him in the stomach, to try and alleviate the stress on his hair.

Catching his bearings once more, Eddie grips his daughter’s hand and unfurls her angry little knuckles, finger by finger until she reluctantly releases James.

“Quinnie, let’s be nice to your brother,” Eddie coos, bouncing her on his thigh as you start to rise from your chair, conversation with Nancy and Robin pausing to see the commotion. Wanting to show you he can, in fact, handle three kids, he shakes his head, reassuring, “I’ve got this.”

“NO!”

Steve glances over from beside him, braiding both his little girl’s hair into braids at the backs of their heads. Eddie frowns, and Steve gives him a sympathetic smile as his own littlest one trips over the leg of his chair and takes a tumble onto the patio below, scraping her knee and bursting into ear piercing wails, crying out for Mama.

——

“Chloe, do you want vanilla or chocolate ice cream for being such a good girl?” You ask, leaning your back against the kitchen counter as Nancy finishes putting a pink bandaid on her youngest daughter’s knee.

Hazel eyes that resemble her father’s peer up at you, fingers pointing to the vanilla container held up in your hands. “‘Bow sprinkle, pease!”

“She wants rainbow sprinkles,” Nancy clarifies as you get to work on her daughter’s ice cream, shoulders slouching, tears burning on your lower lash line. “Hey. Hey. What’s going on? You’ve been quiet tonight.”

Forearm pressing to your sweat-slick forehead, you sigh. “Eddie and I never talked about having another baby. We’ve been trying to save up for the house, we got the house, and now we’re really only just settling into the house. And I don’t even know how this happened, or how he’s going to react, or if he even wants another baby. We always said two and I-I—”

“Momma cry,” Quinn huffs beside Chloe, lifting at the edge of her frilly little summer dress.

You let out a weak laugh at that, sniffling noisily. “Momma is crying, yes sweetie.”

Nancy tugs you close as you join her and the girls on the counter, handing each of the greediest little ones a tiny spoon to likely smear vanilla ice cream on their faces with.

“We planned for James and planned for Quinnie.” With a groan, you grab your own spoon and shovel a spoonful of rainbow sprinkles into your mouth, needing a little sweetness to quell the nervousness bubbling in your belly.

“Well, it seems like that little one had other plans. I know it’s not ideal. But if you take away the house, if you take away all the other things stressing you out right about now, what do you feel?”

And that’s the thing. If you think about it. If you really think about it, you love your husband. Have for so many years now. You married him for all of the reasons you’d said in your vows. Wanted to take on life together, build a family, build a home.

Now here you are, still as deeply in love with him as you were that day, in the house of your dreams you never thought you’d own, with your sweet little boy who has love in his heart and joy in his laugh, and your little girl with her father’s tenacity and your features, and this unexpected little one, faceless and nameless and yet loved.

So so loved already.

“I’m happy. Just…really happy.”

“Then you’ll figure everything else out as you go.”

——

Outside, Eddie’s sitting near the bonfire with his acoustic guitar on his lap, strumming along to a silly song meant for the children. Made up, naturally. A tale of beautiful princes and princesses who wield swords and fight impressive dragons, of harrowing tales and defeating evil.

James sits on his lap, beaming bright, with chocolate smeared across his cheeks, heading into what is surely to be a lovely night of sleep induced by a food coma. Steve’s got his two older daughters, Olivia and Violet, draped over each of his thighs, their heads swaying back and forth and feet kicking as Eddie slips in and out of singing and speaking his stories.

The older kids in “The Party” have started cleaning up, weaving in and out of the house as you and Nancy make your way back outside the sliding glass door with Chloe and Quinn on your hips.

And later, as Steve and Robin show the kids how to safely play with sparklers, tips of their little fireworks exploding into colorful light, Eddie pulls you into his side and presses a kiss to your temple, murmuring he loves you against your skin.

You reply the same, turning your head enough so you can peck him once. Then again, humming into his smile. “Our first party in our new home.”

“The Munson home,” he says, kissing you once more.

And as his arms loop around your waist and James calls out “Mommy and Daddy look!” his little face illuminated in the dark, excitement blooming across his features, and your little girl dancing with Max and El off in the grass, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

In this home, with your family, and these people.

——

Quinn is already down for the night when Eddie starts getting James ready for bed. The boy in question yawns and protests very little as his father lifts him once he’s done dressing for bed and lays him down in his bed shaped like a little race car that Steve had helped put together for him on his sixth birth.

“Can we read The Hobbit?” James asks, clambering over his father’s chest as he settles down beside him on the mattress.

“Yes, but only one chapter, okay?”

James nods his agreement and Eddie begins where they left off, using all the silly fake voices that James always laughs at. Those belly laughs that shake the boy, and warm Eddie from head to toe. Those same laughs that remind him he’s not his father. That reminds him that he’s been made for this; to be your husband, James’ dad and Quinn’s dad. He’s got his support system. His uncle who is more a father to him now than anything else and the strength of his friendships. All he needs, really.

As he finishes reading, and James’ eyes grow heavier, his head curling into Eddie’s neck, James whispers, “I love you, daddy.” Eddie replies the same. Lifts his head and finds you there in the doorway.

Sees the worry lining your brow, remembers the way Nancy had warned him you’d been a little upset as her, Steve and the kids had left, and he has an inkling why. But he doesn’t know for certain.

All he knows is no matter what, as long as you have each other, it’ll all be okay.

You’ll figure out the rest as you go.

——

“Hey, baby? Can you come here for a second?” Eddie calls, just as you finish brushing your teeth and pat your face dry.

Exhaling deeply, you slip out of the bathroom and find him already propped up against the mountain of pillows on your bed, bare chest on display. He’s added tattoos as time has gone by, meant to cover the tapestry of scars across his skin, the same ones that you’ve traced countless times over the years, forever thankful that he’s still here.

His hands reach out to curl around the fullest part of your hips as you lower yourself down onto his lap, a thigh bracketing each of his hips, your own hands resting against the heat of his chest.

He rubs gentle patterns there. Callus scarred fingers dance across your thighs, along the curve of your hips, over your ribcage, the smallest point of your back, the softness of your stomach. Eddie pauses there, dark eyes meeting your own, tongue dragging a slow line across his lips.

“Eddie…” you begin, but Eddie jumps in before you can say any more.

“I want you to know I saw the pregnancy tests in the bathroom. I don’t know if they’re yours, but I wouldn’t be upset if they are. We have this home, we have each other. I got that promotion to manager at the shop, we’ve been saving. We might not have planned for another one, but I think we did a pretty damn good job with the first two, and I would love this baby so much and I—”

“It was my test. Both of them. I’m pregnant.”

His fingers spread further across your stomach, before reaching up to grip at both your cheeks and pull you close for a lingering kiss that has your toes curling. Before you can say anything else, he’s rolling you over onto your back and shoving at the flimsy sleep shirt you’re wearing, pressing kiss after kiss to your midsection.

“I’ll take it that you’re happy?” you giggle, threading your fingers in the soft curls at the back of his head.

Another kiss, this time to your belly button. “So happy,” he says, a grin growing against your skin. “Hi Maisie, it’s your daddy. I already love you so, so much.”

“Maisie, huh?”

“We always liked the name, and I have a gut feeling.”

Several months later, Eddie’s right.

Maisie Munson enters the world.

Seven pounds, six ounces, and pure love.

——

——

[dollwrites]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 — 𝐨𝐛𝐢 𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐮

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!stripper!reader, lapdance, dry humping ( obi gets away with A LOT more than you’re supposed to ), needy!obi, reader has a stage name but no physical descriptions, praise kink, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ kiss me you animal by burn the ballroom

“Darling!”

it was hardly audible over the thumping bass from the speakers, but you’d heard someone call out for you. you glance over your shoulder; you had been leaning against the bar, chatting up a regular, and pretending to sip on the cocktail he bought you, when one of the newer girls squeezed through the line at the bar, making a bee line for you. “‘Scuse me.” you flashed a smile at the patron, standing up straighter to meet her as she approached. you lean close with your ear inches from her lips so you can hear her over the music.

“Your fire soldier captain’s here. By the door. See?” as she speaks, she points a sharp, manicured nail towards the entrance. your eyeline follows and you find that she’s absolutely right. Captain Obi had wandered in. even with the Saturday night rush, he stood at least a head over everyone; still clad in a plain black tee that was dusted with ash, and his uniform bottoms, the arms of his suit tied like a belt around his hips. that wasn’t usual— he typically came to the club in his civvies.

you frown, reading his tense expression like a book that was opened just for you. brows knit tightly together, eyes dark and sporting black rings; hell, you could almost see how bloodshot they were from where you were standing. he was looking towards the stage, but when he sees that you’re not the one performing, he shuffled inside and headed for an empty table near the back.

“I need to…” you started, biting on your lip, you look at her and she gives you an affirming nod. “Thanks.” you reply, grateful, and press your hand to her bare back, letting her slip into your spot at the bar. you look to the patron with a flirty smile and lean close to his ear. “This is Angel. She’s brand new, and she’s dying to get to know you. Be good to my girl, okay?”

but, you didn’t exactly wait for an answer. you couldn’t. you gave his shoulder a polite pat, before you turned and weaved through the crowd of people, smiling when they said hello to you, but not bothering to stop and chat. if Obi wasn’t there, you would’ve been much more social, but he took priority. maybe it didn’t make sense to the other girls; there were plenty of bigger, richer fish in the sea, but Obi was special. maybe they’d never understand, and you didn’t mind.

as long as they didn’t get in the way.

and they didn’t.

you noticed that, even though Obi was about to sit by himself at a table, the other girls kept their distance— they knew he would send them away anyways; he only ever came for you. one of the waitresses handed him a drink for the wait, but she smiled when she saw you coming, and you did the same to her, mouthing a “thank you” before you were an arm’s length away from him. you approached from behind, reaching out, with your pinky hooking around his thick, calloused forefinger. he turns, a wave of pure relief on his features. he knew it was you. whether he could smell your sugary perfume in the mix with the others, or he knew the silkiness of your touch by heart, it didn’t matter.

and you didn’t have to say anything. you smiled, soft, and gave his finger a little tug, stepping backwards once, twice, until he was stumbling towards you, and then you led him around the tables. careening around them, you felt his finger twitch, trying to hold on to your pinky tighter as he followed you to the champagne room. you only had to give security time to see you, and the pathetic giant toddling behind you, and he stepped aside so you could draw Obi inside, and the door was closed behind, muffling the music and blocking the rest of the club out— leaving you two alone.

you let go, and step over to the bar, setting your clutch purse down on to it. it’d been a busy night, and the purse’s belly bulged with hundreds of crinkled bills stuffed inside. “You want to hold on to that?” you ask, eyeing the drink that he hadn’t even sipped on. he shook his head, though he was only staring at you, and you smile again, gently plucking it from his hand and setting it down beside your clutch. “Sit down, baby,” you cooed; you could still feel him lingering by you. “Get comfortable.”

he did as instructed, albeit a bit reluctant, plopping down on the velvety couch. he was twice the size meant to fit on such, so he always looked like he was sitting on dollhouse furniture. sometimes, it was funny to watch, especially when he was red faced and squirming, but now he fidgeted, his dark eyes deep, black oceans, and it wasn’t funny anymore.

“I need…” he’d hunched forward, his elbows resting on his massive knees. “I need you.”

you’re already sauntering over to him, placing both hands on the expanse of his broad shoulders and urging him to lean back. “I’m right here.” you assure him, waiting until he’s reclined to step up onto the couch. you’d balanced on it so many times in your heels that it was second nature, now. you start slow, resting a knee against his massive shoulder, you lean forward, rolling your body against him, one of your hands delving into his dark tendrils. they were damp to the touch, probably from sweat, and you cradle the back of his head, combing him to drop it back against your palm. he looks up the length of your scantily clad figure, teeth sinking into his lower lip. “Rough day?” you ask, combing through his hair as you drag yourself against him. you can practically feel the heat from whatever fire he’d just stumbled out of. he nods, but he doesn’t speak. he’s much too entranced, too focused on the way your body moved, fluid and graceful as a swan coasting on a sparkling, midnight lake. his hands ghost over your calf muscle, pulled taut as you balanced. typically, the second a customer reached for you, the dance was over, but you could admit to yourself ( and anyone else for that matter ) that Captain Obi Akitaru had special privileges. he could touch, because he never did so to hurt you. his fingers, though rough and split from countless hours of countless days training, always tried to be as kind and soft as one his size and strength could be.

“You can tell me about it.” you murmured, flipping yourself over so you can slide down his chest on your back. his hand follows up the flare of your hip to hold you close as you wiggled your ass against his groin. “I promise I’m a good listener.”

“No,” he whispers into your neck, perhaps a bit too quick, sitting up to press himself flush to your back, “no I don’t want to. I just want you. I just want to be here with you.”

you were happy to be facing away from him, because the way his voice cracked must’ve embarrassed him, he got quiet after that, simply holding on to your hip as you rubbed into him. even with those thick, uniform pants on, you could feel a firm lump against his thigh, hardening significantly when you targeted and slid over it. you’d be lying to tell yourself that it didn’t turn you on, every time you felt his clothed cock and just how hard it got for you. you’d never once seen it, but you knew every inch by heart, from touch alone. “You are,” you affirmed, “feel me?” you reach back to hook your arm around his neck. “Because I can feel you…”

his breath stuttered as he pushed closer to you, holding on to your hip with one hand, and the other grabbing desperately at the couch cushion underneath him. “I feel you.” it was a moan into your neck where he buried his face. you were hyper aware of his lips pressing against your glitter-coated skin, but you didn’t mind. in fact, he was worshipping the sweetest spots on your neck, and breathing heavy, hot air on to them; it felt so good you wished he’d never stop.

“Good,” you whisper; you’re surprised at just how shaky it is, planting your heels on the floor to lean forward. you had to get away from those addictive kisses, otherwise you might forget that you were only meant to be dancing for him. “Good, baby.” he made a quiet sound of disapproval as you bent over to grab your ankles, shaking your ass back and forth in his face, but both of his hands were holding on to your thighs, thumb pads rubbing firm circles over the skin.

“C’mere, Darling.” he pleaded, leaning back again. he didn’t want to let go, but he had to do so to pat his lap. you felt the heat of a blush on your cheeks and it felt… foreign. you’d been working in the club long enough not to blush like a schoolgirl anymore, but there was something in the baritone of his voice, a need so deep that you could feel it like electricity in the air, and it made you want to swoon. “Please.”

you stand up straight, twirling on your heels to face him, and straddle his gargantuan thighs like he wanted, hips oscillating to the faint baseline of the song booming just outside the door. your fingers are in his hair again, combing it back, but this time, both of his arms hook around your waist and pull you closer to him. “Obi—“ you gasp, surprised. his face nuzzled against your breasts his nose dragging along the sequinned bikini top. you could also feel his hips jutting forward, pressing his hard on against your panties. you stilled for a moment, wide eyed.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, voice husky with lust. you knew he didn’t want to, but if you told him to let go, he would.

you thought about it.

you knew you should say yes.

mixing business with pleasure was a terrible idea.

but you were so wet.

but you shook your head, and eased back down against his bulge, listening to the way he sucked in a harsh breath. “Don’t stop.” you replied, grabbing his hair at the root. fuck it, you thought. “Obi, don’t stop.”

he moans, desperate, pulling you down against his needy rutting, one arm snaking up to hold one of your shoulders, and the other keeping a tight vice on your waist. your back arches, rocking your hips to meet his grinding, and you tilt your head back, eyelids fluttering. the wet patch on your panties left your scent on his groin with each, furious buck of his hips. your lingerie was a flimsy shield from the roughness of his uniform, or the hardness of the cock that he used your body to tend to, so each slide over his lap had you mewling and squirming with pleasure.

“Moan for me again,” Obi begs, stifling his own sounds of ecstasy by killing them in his throat. “You sound… so beautiful… let me hear it again.”

you acquiesce with a happy purr when he litters your chest with eager love bites, and you pull on his hair with a tight fist, biting down on your lip to relieve some of the pressure building between your hips. “O—Obi, please… that feels good… you feel good…”

Obi grunts in approval, muscles in his herculean biceps bulging, veins poking out, as they contract. you’d never been locked in a hold this strong, and you didn’t mind it at all. if anything, you’d never felt safer.

“Just like that, baby,” you moaned again, back arching. his rutting was becoming more and more fervent, his mouth more passionate and insatiable as he nudges your top aside to bring your breast into his mouth and clamp his teeth on your nipple. “Fuck!” it’s a harsh whisper, the knots tying over and over in your belly pulling tight. you almost can’t believe it— you’re going to cum from this. “Obi! Cumming, oh god, I’m cumming!”

he holds you tighter when you come undone, bear hugging your much smaller frame so you can’t run away from euphoria, and instead ride out every, last wave of mind blowing pleasure, calling his name over and over, your eyes closing under the rush.

it was after several moments of shuddering and heavy panting that you finally came back, and realized you’d soaked not only your panties, but his uniform as well, and you sheepishly press a hand to it. “Sorry about that.” you mumble, but he shakes his head, letting go of you to cup one hand over yours.

“That’s not only you, sweetheart.” he replied, “I came minutes before you did.”

his massive chest was still heaving, but you were pleased to see his usual smile was tickling the corners of his lips.

your blush deepened in heat and magnitude. why hadn’t he told you? did he think that he owed it to you to make sure you enjoyed yourself, too? you mirror the smile, your own just as genuine, as you consider how lucky you were to have been working the first night he stumbled into the club the year prior.

you clear your throat, shifting on his lap, and tap his chest with both hands, “Well, luckily for you, I think my legs are pretty much jello right now, so we’re going to sit right here like this until I’m confident I won’t break my neck trying to wobble back out onto the floor.”

[exilynn]

MY Eddie's headcanons parents!

Jane Elisabeth, the virgin rocker girl, nerd(!jane

Demeritus Alanfiero, the troublesome Italian-american guy who her falling in love(! al/ale

I've never felt that a headcanon about Eddie's parents in my fanfic (Echoes Nocteris) on wattpad) made such a powerful couple chemistry in a romance from they past. And the way she talks about him to Lily and Eddie, with nostalgia for the past, is different here. She knows the problems and all pain he caused her, but only with him was she able to love madly and conceber little Eddie years later...

About this headcanon, please, dont steal couple Idea)

First, 🦇 I don't want to romanticize Eddie's parents within the real fiction of his story in the series(st4), but within my fanfic, there will be forgiveness first and loves that maybe were never so dormant after all... but I promise that after all the pain, there will be a happy ending

Here the short letter of Eddie's dad for Jane(Eddie's mom) in chapter33

"Within your heart, the flame; upon your lips, Eden. You hated me at first sight. We didn't have a conventional love, but you accepted my 'criminal' and frightening side as a teenage rockstar. Elisabeth Jane, the virgin rocker girl, nerd. Demeritus Alessandro, the troubled Italo-American boy you fell for. After the hate subsided, remember jumping into my van with the same excuse? You said your intolerant religious parents were unbearable, and I laughed. I told you to let them bask in the illusion of their own faith. Ignorance somehow brought us together; while your father hated me, mine kicked me out!

But you understood me, and I was able to embrace your demons. We had repeated nights of love inside that van, but it never went beyond that. Between hate and love? I remember seeing you on campus, telling my friends, 'That hottie is gonna be mine, guys.' You fell for me like a fish on my hook, baby. Then, when you talked about having our first child, I choked as I opened my pack of Camels. Your eyes hypnotized me, and then I said, 'What's gotten into you, don't you want to enjoy life?' You looked at me with teary eyes: 'I want to seal my existence with an eternal bond of our love, Demeritus!' I thought it was madness, but weeks passed and not seeing you at school was killing me. I went after you, we started dating in 1995, and Eddie would be born later. You were seventeen and I was of legal age. When you told about the pregnancy, your father hunted me through the backyard with a Russian Makarov. Hilarious how life brought me this gift between 1996 and 1997. A boy in my face, the brat was a spitting image of me. But I swore that, despite my bad reputation, I would love you beyond this universe!

And I would be the father Eddie didn't expect, but would look upon with admiration, because some good part of me the boy would bring...

With love, Al.

[terresdebrume]

This snippet will be cleaned up and posted to AO3 as part of my current series. There's more of it in the series' tag on my blog tho, s: limo driver Joe.

Joe takes his ticket back and makes his way to his seat towards the back of the bus. His backpack is heavy on his shoulder. The air is too cold for him. He feels, irritatingly enough, like he should be wearing a suit. With a sigh, he settles his bag in the overhead luggage compartment and sits down.

A single blue backpack. Not the sum of his possessions—that got shipped last week, thanks to a decade of savings—but definitely some of the most precious ones. The vintage Dick Tracy keychain his siblings pooled up to get him when he left home, safely hooked to the inside zipper. The ninja turtles shirt that has somehow not died yet. The tiny, silver, six-branched star David got him after he lost the one from his bar mitzvah five years into his work for the Websters. He never like his life was empty, those ten years, but looking down, he can't help but wonder if he was wrong.

The engine comes on. The people outside the bus start hurrying up. A jam forms at the front. Joe rolls his eyes and jams his jacket between his shoulder and the window, then blinks. For a moment, he thought—oh, something stupid, probably. Then he turns his head, and he sees him.

David stands on the quai, eyeing the bustling travelers like he's not sure they're quite healthy to be around. He's wearing that stupid dress his mother makes him wear when she wants to show visitors what a good catholique family she has. The pale blue one with a Peter Pan collar and the white flats. David never looked quite comfortable in that ensemble, but now it clashes with his clearly masculine haircut and the designer lines of his bookbags.

Out of all the people Joe befriended in Nw York in the past ten year, he had to get closest to the one whose entire being screams dork. He rolls his eyes, resolutely ignoring the light warmth pinching behind his ribs. Then he knocks on the window. David startles. Finds Joe at the window. His mouth does that thing where it's hanging open and trying to smile at the same time. Joe rolls his eyes again, and goes fishing for his phone.

"Get out," he texts David in German, "before someone steals your lunch money."

Outside, he sees David fish his phone out of his pocket. Glance at it. Glare up at him, flipping him the bird. Joe can't help but grin harder at the sight. His phone buzzes.

"Safe journey, asshole."

Joe gives the kid a nod. They're probably never going to spend any significant amount of time together again. Joe's going back to Frisco. David has a life of luxury waiting for him in New York, if he can stick the landing with his coming out. There's no reason for them to even meet again.

In the privacy of his own head, Joe can admit he'll miss the guy. He'd thought he'd be insufferable at first. A little girl in neat little plaits, in a bohemian white dress that said 'just back from the Bali' like a bat signal for rich people. He'd been frowning at everything. Complaining in German to his then-nanny about the temperature, the smell, the size of the airport, the car, and then Joe. Because he hadn't been Mr. Ameer, the previous driver. Of course Joe had to respond to it, and in German, too.

There was some fire, under the lace that said 'my children don't get dirty'. Joe remembers pressing his lips against a smile, delighted by this stranger two years younger than Jake who'd answered his barb with as much aplomb as Al ever had. They haven't really stopped bickering since. So yeah, Joe will miss the guy.

He'll wonder, probably, what he's doing, in the future. Whether his Harvard degree is going well. Whether his coming out is accepted. Whether he found someone who'll actually listen to him if he decides to tell someone other than that damn journal of his about his accident and the months after.

Joe winks at David, huffing a laugh when that only makes him glare harder. Joe stops himself from reaching for the pendant David gifted him, safely tucked with the one Ma sent him as an actual replacement for the Bat Mitzvah gift. The doors at the front of the bus close down. David's face goes blank. Something tight grips Joe's throat.

He blinks, several times. Watches David grow smaller as the bus leaves the station. Then, feeling like he's losing some fight against himself, he reaches for his phone again and sends:

"Text you when I get there, kid."

In response, he gets an emoji.

"🙄"

[overwatch-and-others-imagines]

General Kate Denson Headcanons

-Kate is one of the last people you would expect to her a bit of a feral side, outside of trials, she is very sweet, always willing to lend a hand when Jake and Claudette go out foraging or grab her guitar or banjo and start a small campfire sing along when the group as a whole needs a bit of a pick-me-up and she's one of the first to welcome new people to the realm and explain what's going on.

-During trials is a whole other story, she is one of the first off a generator but it's never to run like Feng or hide like Claudette, waiting until the danger has passed, no no. She always runs towards the killer, yelling and screaming and cursing them out in quick thick Southern. Always drawing their attention to her so her fellow survivors can continue their work. She wouldn't say she's fantastic at looping but she is excellent at getting and keeping attention.

-She isn't the taunting type, never once has anyone ever heard her insult a killer in a way that anyone would consider crude, no swear words have ever passed through her lips, instead she is much more insistent on commenting on what they haven't or have gotten done yet. "Oh come on now sugar! we've already gotten gen done and you haven't so much as spotted someone, you are making this far too easy for us now"  "A singular hook for two gens, are you kidding me? {previous killer} had us all hooked at least once before we got a singular gen done last trial" said with a tongue click and a seemingly disappointed headshake Things like that aren't uncommon during a trial and her fellow survivors often have to hold in their snickered giggles or dramatic eye rolls as Kate scolds the killer

-When she's the last survivor in a trial, she would never admit it, but she does use her boots as weapons. Shamelessly taking them off her feet to nail the killer in the face as she books it past them out the door. She seemingly loves hitting The Mastermind in the face or back of the head. Not that she would ever admit it of course, when asked why he is targeting her so hard their next trial together, she just shrugs, playing the innocent act. Completely clueless as to why he's hunting her down with the ferocity usually reserved for Chris or Sheva.

-The Entity allows this for the same reason it allows Flashbangs, Firecrackers and every other manner of stunning the killer. It finds it very amusing that this young otherwise typically southern bell type uses her boots as weapons. Always giving them graciously back to the young woman after.

-She is an excellent craftswoman when it comes to flower crowns or wreaths, any kind of braiding and she's got it. Any holiday decoration that requires it, she is almost definitely your girl. When asked about it, she admitted that she'd learned how to braid as a tiny tot and had taken to it like a fish to water, flower crowns, her hair, other people's hair, she hadn't cared. It was something she could do while she zoned out, kept her hands busy. It's not uncommon to see Mikaela, Sable, Kate and Meg all sitting together, Mikaela and Kate gossiping while the two of them braid Meg and Sable's hair. Rarely does Yui and Jane join in but they are there more for the gossip than the hair bonding.

-The Entity seems to have a soft spot for Kate as she is the only survivor currently who managed to escape being caught by the being once before, a fact Kate is always quite wary of. As such while she is sure that she could get away with more than her fellow survivors, she never asks for anything. Unwilling to put herself into the back pocket of the being running the show the way that Feng or David have seemed to, or at least it comes off that way to her. A disturbing fact that Kate has not caught onto yet, is the Entity is trying to prime her to become a Killer in the long run. While all the survivors have traits that can be exploited, Kate seems to be the only one the Entity wants to have working against her fellows.

-The sort of songs that Kate always jumps to when the group needs a pick me up are all gentle ballads and a couple of Carrie Underwoods more popular numbers, with some soft rock songs for Jeff, who she has a soft spot for as he is the closest thing to something familiar she has. The two of them are close with their love of music and Kate is always the one to comfort the man when he frets about his pup back home.

-Yun-Jin while a singer, followed a different genre and her constant critiquing of Kate, has her often biting her tongue when the older woman speaks. She holds nothing against her but she makes a point occasionally to ignore any song suggestions that the K-pop star and manager throws out during campfire song time. Believing that you attract more flies with honey than vinegar and often her critiques leave a bad taste in Kate's mouth. The difference in music styles between the two are extremely apparent.

-Kate doesn't have a. . .great relationship with any of the killers by any means but there are a few that she can't help but feel for so she always goes a little softer on them than she would normally. One such is The Hillbilly. She cuts the southern barbs down to nothing when she goes up against him, feeling a deep wound hiding behind his rage. Kate tries not to stun him unless it's to help someone out and she often calls out soft encouragement when he misses a charge, feeling a twinge of something in her chest hearing his pained noises. She suspects there's a story there but she is not one to leave the safety of the campfire often, so she has no idea what it is.

-She is probably one of the few survivors that could befriend him should she ever decide to be brave and give it a good try.

-Another killer she is softer on is Nurse. Kate went up against her very early on after she'd been grabbed by the Entity and had panicked thrown a pallet on her. She had been about to run when she had heard soft sobbing coming from the killer and her heart had given a sympathetic squeeze. Kate still can't help but feel bad for Sally whenever she hears her moving about the map during a trial, unable to stop her gentler heart from squeezing at the cries of pain.