#she knows that she's not supposed to bark at people just trying to walk by outside

[chaos-in-one]

Watching my dog try to beg me for food while also trying to be mad at me is so funny

[systlin]

So, to explain my little adventure I just got back from, it is necessary to set the scene by explaining a few things.

My dog is a Great Pyraneese. She weighs 90 Pounds. It is mostly muscle.

My neighbors a quarter mile down the road have chickens. They like to let them free range.

Now, this is not a problem at all, EXCEPT for the fact that whenever Tyr sees them something deep in her little livestock guardian breed brain goes "Oh, I am supposed to be Responsible for this Livestock." She will attempt to plonk her 90 pound furry ass down as far towards their yard as her leash will permit and want to sit there and simply stare at the chickens. She is not aggressive towards them, she simply wants to lie down and Keep An Eye On Things, the way a good livestock guardian dog is supposed to. It is the same reason she would love to fight the foxes that live under the falling down farmhouse down the street to the death and is very upset that I will not let her.

The PROBLEM is, well

3. My neighbors also have a miniature poodle. She is convinced, in every cell of her 15 pound body, that No Other Dogs Should Come Anywhere Near Her Fucking Yard. She has no concept that Tyr outweighs her by 75 pounds and is absolutely convinced that she could win this fight.

Normally if she's outside she is out in the fenced backyard and this isn't a problem. I also don't let Tyr wander into other yards, because it's rude to let your dog pee on the neighbor's grass unless they've said they're fine with it and also I live in Fuckass Nowhere. There's plenty of county owned grass on the roadside for Tyr to pee on. Still, even if I'm coaxing her along past the chickens, she will want to slow down and drift over to that side of the road to look at them.

TODAY, however, the mini poodle was NOT in the backyard. She was in the unfenced front yard, and as soon as we walked past she saw another dog not ON her yard, but heading TOWARDS her yard, and she hurled herself into battle with no thought for her own safety.

Now, Tyr is not aggressive towards other dogs. There is an exception to this, though, and it is 'unless an off leash dog comes running full speed in the general direction of one of Her People while snarling and barking'. If this happens, I suddenly have 90 pounds of Great Pyr ready for mortal combat on the end of the leash.

This brings us to item 4

4. I broke my left arm in April and while it is healing and good for light use now, 'Light Use' does not include 'restraining 90 pounds of furious livestock guardian dog convinced her person is about to be attacked by a reactive dog'

This means that I looped up the leash short and controlled her one armed. I did not think about this twice particularly. I know I can do it and just. Did it. I wouldn't walk her if I couldn't control her, after all. Once she figured out that no, the poodle was NOT going to attack me, she calmed down, but was still growling.

But I did this as a panicked neighbor dude came running out to try and get his dog, convinced that his kids were about to watch their beloved pet get turned into Great Pyr chow.

Oh and

5. I did this while wearing a Wonder Woman tshirt

So, long story short, his 4 year old daughter is convinced now that I actually AM Wonder Woman, because "She's Strong Like Wonder Woman!" and my neighbor learned that his poodle dug out from under the fence, how's everyone else's days going.

(All dogs unhurt)

[fxllfaiiry]

─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.

✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.

✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!

Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 

You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 

You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 

Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 

Like today, you got him some coffee. 

"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 

"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 

He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 

"This isn't how I like my coffee." 

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 

"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 

"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 

"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 

"No."

"Sunflower…"

"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  

"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 

"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 

"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 

But, of course, you were wrong. 

Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 

Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 

If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 

"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 

"I was just tryin-" 

"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 

"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 

"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 

"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 

Don't cry. Don't cry. 

"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 

"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 

"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 

"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 

Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 

"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 

At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 

"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 

"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 

"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

jax is THE "obsessed with his girl when she wears sundresses or those slip nightgowns" like theres a CRIMINAL lack of fanfic around him going bark bark awooga over that shit do u agree with me

Sundress.

it’s sundress season. jax can’t keep his hands to himself.

pairing - jax teller x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. jax is a terror.

word count - 1.5/2k maybe? i’ll check later.

authors note - you’re so right. that man is not surviving sundress season.

masterlist. inbox.

You felt it as soon as he walked in.

There’s always an atmosphere between you and Jax. A tension that’s alive, crackling, buzzing with anticipation of itself.

You’ve been waiting for the honeymoon phase to wear off for years. It never has.

All evening, he’s been watching you.

Careful, concentrated blue eyes repeatedly raking over your figure. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Eventually, it’s making it too hard to work. You ask one of the girls to take over the bar and stride across the space, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him into the back room.

“Okay baby, I like it when you-”

“Cut it out.”

He stops in his tracks, slightly taken aback.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, Jax. Cut it the fuck out.”

He leans against the wall, cool as ever, eyes still wandering.

“Cut what out?”

“That!” you scold, smacking his chest. “The eye fucking. I’m trying to work.”

“I’m just looking at you.”

“You are not just looking at me. You look like you’re going to bend me over the bar at any given moment. Stop it.”

“I can’t help it, darlin’.”

He takes a step forward, sliding his hands across your hips and pulling you into him.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty in this dress. It’s takin’ everything in me to not rip it off you.”

You try to stand your ground, but his warm body pressing into yours is making it difficult.

“You can do whatever you want to me when we get home,” you tease, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “When we get home.”

“That a promise?”

“It is if you can cool it with the stares. You’re scaring people.”

“Good.”

He kisses you roughly, hands migrating down to palm at your ass. You moan into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck to stay steady.

“Jax,” you hiss as you pull away. “Everyone’s gonna think we’re fucking back here. Behave.”

“I like it when you tell me to behave,” he smirks, smoothing out the skirt of your dress.

“Behave,” you repeat, tugging his hair roughly. His eyes close in bliss and for a moment, you debate just letting him have you now.

Remembering the entire reason for this conversation, you slap his cheek lightly.

“Best behaviour until the end of my shift. You hear me, Jackson?”

“Yes ma’am.”

He mock salutes you before stealing a quick kiss. Opening the door for you, he smacks your ass as you walk by, laughing when you turn around to glare at him.

“I mean it.”

“Oh I know, baby.”

To his credit, he reels it in. Slightly.

He’s still watching your every move, but with a little less intensity than before. You catch his eyes occasionally, winking as you grin. He shakes his head, beaming smile on his face telling you everything you need to know.

As the night comes to a close, people start to vacate the bar and make their way home, drunk and merry. Jax sticks around, arm slung over the back of the booth as he watches you clean.

“You two gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, Chibs, we’re good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gives you a kiss on the cheek before leaving, as you hear his bike roar to life.

As soon as Jax has confirmation he’s gone, he’s getting up, sauntering over to where you’re wiping down the bar top.

“What’s my prize?”

“Hmm?”

You look up at him with big doe eyes and he almost melts, leaning across the wood towards you.

“What’s my prize? For behaving myself?”

“You’re insufferable,” you laugh. “You’re supposed to behave yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You shake your head and lean down to throw the rag under the sink. When you stand up, Jax is pressed against you, body warm and firm.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

His big hands cradle your face, rough and gun calloused.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty.”

You flush, heat rising across your chest. Jax lunges in, smashing his lips to yours and pushing you up against the bar. The lip of the wood is digging into your back as he presses you into it further, rocking his hips into yours as he kisses you.

You gasp as he bites down on your lip, so he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like beer and cigarettes and the gum he chews because he knows you like it. You tangle your fingers into his hair, trying to plaster yourself to him.

Jax leans down and presses open mouthed kisses to your ear, your neck, your collarbones, your chest. No skin goes left untouched as you tilt your head to give him more access. He smirks at how quickly you’ve relented.

“I know you wanted this,” he murmurs against your throat. “Wanted it just as bad as me, didn’t you?”

When you don’t respond, he snakes a hand around your neck, squeezing just enough.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, Jax. Please.”

He presses his lips into the junction of your shoulder as his hand slips underneath your dress. He traces you over your underwear, cupping you as he chuckles.

“Filthy girl. So fuckin’ wet.”

You drop your head forward into his chest, trying to take deep breaths so you don’t pass out.

“Can’t take my time with you like I want to,” he murmurs. “Don’t want anyone walking in and seeing you like this.”

In the blink of an eye he’s spinning you around, hand on your shoulder blades to push you down onto the bar top. He flips the skirt of your dress up, bunching it around your waist.

“Been thinkin’ about this all day. Pretty fuckin’ girl.”

Jax pulls your underwear to the side as he fumbles with his jeans, pushing them down just enough. You feel the warmth of him behind you, sliding through your wet heat with ease.

“Please,” you whine. “Don’t tease.”

“Needy baby.”

His tone is so patronising, so condescending, that on any other day you’d slap him. But in this current moment, the only thing you can thing about how is how you might die if he doesn’t fuck you soon.

“Okay, honey. I’ll give you what you want. Only because you look so fuckin’ gorgeous in this dress.”

He slides himself home as both of you groan. You rest your head on your folded arms on the bar as his hands find your hips, setting a brutal pace instantly.

His rhythm is consistent, deep thrusts reverberating through the core of you. Your knees threaten to give out as he knocks your entire body forward, his hips smacking into yours.

His mouth is running constantly, spewing filth right into your ear as he breathes down your neck.

“Prettiest fuckin’ girl I’ve ever seen. This goddamn dress. Drivin’ me insane.”

“Yeah darlin’, just like that. Fuck, baby. S’good.”

“You feel like heaven, fuck. Atta girl.”

“Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, there we go.”

You can’t do anything but take it, babbling nonsense right back at him. He chuckles, snaking his hand around your front to circle your clit.

His fingers are your undoing, clenching around him like a vice as your legs give out. All you can do is whine his name, all high pitched and breathy.

“Fuck, baby.”

Jax comes as soon as he feels you, groaning as he rests his head on your back. He squeezes your hips a couple of times, kissing across your skin.

You’re both revelling in your post orgasm bliss when the door flies open, hitting the wall and startling you both.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, lovebirds.”

Chibs is grinning, laughing as he looks around the booth where he was sitting. He finds his keys on the floor, holding them up as he shakes his head at the two of you.

Jax pulls out of you and buttons himself up, smoothing your dress down to preserve your decency. You hide your face in his chest as he chuckles, the sound rumbling through the both of you.

“See ya tomorrow!” the Scotsman yells as he leaves, stupid smile on his face.

“What did I tell you about behaving?”

Jax can’t help but laugh at you, pulling you in to press a kiss to your head.

“Let’s go home, pretty girl. Wanna fuck you in this dress a couple more times.”

@lauratang @ladyjbrekker @myhappyplaceofstuff

[fluentmoviequoter]

Choose a Side

The Bradfords Series Masterlist (4/?)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!cop!reader

Summary: Lucy asks for your opinion on a date, not expecting you to take sides. You do choose a side, but not the one she thinks.

Warnings: fluff, banter, grumpy!Tim

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: There are two random references in this (an Eric Winter movie and a previous Tim fic). Which is completely irrelevant. Enjoy.

The station is quiet when you walk through, but you know better than to get comfortable in the calm moment. It’s not superstition for you, just that you know the people you work with, and even if there aren’t many calls, it still won’t stay quiet for long.

“Hey!” Lucy calls behind you.

You smile at her interruption and stop walking so she can catch up to you. As she approaches, you notice that she’s looking over your shoulder.

“Is Tim with you?” she asks.

“No,” you answer, “he’s helping Angela with a case. Do you need him?”

“What I need is a second opinion and I do not want his.”

“Okay,” you drawl. “What’s up?”

“So, I’m going on a date tonight.”

“Please don’t say it’s with a cop,” you murmur.

“With a firefighter.” Lucy stops and tilts her head to ask, “Is it really that bad to be with another cop?”

You raise your hand to her arm and smile. “Lucy, I’m kidding. Tell me more.”

“His name is Alex. He’s been a firefighter for a few years since he got out of the Army. We actually met while playing tug-of-war and he was super flirty, but apparently he actually likes me!”

You ignore the odd way they met and choose to say, “Don’t sound so surprised he’s interested. When’s the date?”

“What date?”

You and Lucy look up together, wide-eyed at the sight of Tim approaching. He furrows his brows and keeps his eyes on you rather than looking at Lucy.

“I’m cheating on you?” you try.

“What date?” Tim repeats, completely ignoring your attempt to remove suspicion from Lucy.

“I have a date,” Lucy admits, “with a former soldier who is now a firefighter.”

“Killer turned arsonist. Way to pick them, Chen.”

“You were a soldier,” you point out.

Tim turns his chin toward you long enough to argue, “And you used to be nice to me.”

“Tim," you warn.

“Didn’t your last boyfriend leave you so heartbroken you bought jewelry from the evidence room?” Tim asks.

“I bought that because I like it,” Lucy defends, crossing her arms across her chest. “This is different.”

“Which station does he work at?” Tim inquires.

“Does that matter?”

“Yes,” you answer, with Tim. You frown as you add, “Sorry.”

“29,” Lucy says quietly. She raises her voice and glares at Tim to challenge, “Do you want his shoe size and social security number as well?”

“Lucy, some of the stations are known for having firefighters that are terrible people. Trust me, I’ve met more than my fair share on calls,” you explain. “Tim’s just trying to look out for you on that one.”

“Oh, so you’re taking his side. That’s great!”

“Lucy,” you reply with a laugh. “29 is a good station, right down the road, so we would know if it wasn’t. They’re good people.”

“As good as firefighters can be, you mean,” Tim adds. “What’s his last name?”

“Tim,” you chide. “That’s none of your business.”

“There can’t be that many guys named Alex at station 29.”

Tim pulls his phone from his pocket, and you snatch it out of his hand.

“If you call Nell to ask about him, I will take Kojo and Lucy to the station on my lunch break to hang out with firefighters.”

Tim shakes his head before he turns to face Lucy.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working instead of talking about date night outfits?” he asks.

“Oh, outfits!” Lucy exclaims. “We didn’t get that far!”

“Nope,” Tim interrupts. “Get to the shop, we’re going on patrol.”

“But I never got a second opinion.” Lucy pouts as she looks toward you, and you smile.

“Lucy, it sounds like you and Alex get along really well. You should go, have fun, and just see where the relationship may be able to go.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Lucy says, raising her arms to hug you.

“Boot,” Tim barks when the hug lasts for a second too long. “Shop.”

“He’s so grumpy today,” Lucy whispers in your ear as she pulls back.

Tim nods at you before he turns to follow Lucy to the garage. You look down at his phone in your hand and smile. He’ll realize before he leaves and come back for it, and this time, you will let him know that you really did pick a side.

“I need that,” Tim says as he returns.

You tuck his phone behind your back and use your other hand to grip the collar of Tim’s uniform and pull him closer. Face-to-face, you look into his eyes before you speak.

“Don’t look into him,” you demand.

Tim’s brows pinch before he asks, “What do you mean?”

“Tim Bradford, if you start a fire just to meet Lucy’s date, it will look like you care about her. A lot.”

Tim clears his throat softly, then nods once. “Can I go now?”

“Sure,” you agree, smiling as you release his collar and step back. “But she’ll tell me if you interrogate her in the car.”

“Why does it matter who my boot dates or when?” Tim inquires as he straightens his shirt.

“I don’t know, Tim. Why does it?”

Tim grumbles as he takes his phone from your hand.

“I love you,” you call after him.

“Not as much as Alex, apparently.”

“This is by far the most illegal but sweet thing you’ve ever done,” you tell Tim. “Pretzels?”

“It’s not illegal,” Tim argues, extending his hand for a snack. “We’re just enjoying a date night. What’s wrong with that?”

“The fact that we’re not just enjoying a date night. Tim, you’re watching someone else’s date.”

“You can’t say you’re not interested.”

“I can,” you argue, lifting your phone. “I’m watching a cheesy romcom about a widower who owns a restaurant and coaches little league but falls in love with the woman who wants to buy him out.”

“Riveting,” Tim mumbles, turning back toward the restaurant. “Where’d she go?”

The back door behind you opens before Lucy slides into the car. You offer the bag of convenience store snacks over your shoulder, and she accepts it to look for her favorite candy. Which, of course, you bought for her. Uncomfortable with Lucy's presence, Tim shifts as you pause your movie and remove the earbud you’d been using to listen to it.

“How was the date?” Tim asks.

“You tell me, it seems like you saw just as much as I did,” Lucy responds.

“Sorry, Lucy,” you interject.

“It’s okay. I mean, if he was a serial killer or something, I’d be glad you’re here.”

“That’s what I said,” Tim defends.

“But he wasn’t.”

“Told you,” you tell Tim. “She can take care of herself. Besides, Alex is a sweetheart.”

“You’ve met him?!” Tim asks loudly.

You nod and take a bite of your snack before you explain, “On a call this afternoon. Nell attached me to it.”

“Oh, so I can’t call Nell, but you can?”

“I asked her to watch for an opportunity,” Lucy says.

Tim shakes his head and throws his hands up. “I give up. Lucy, do you want a ride home?”

“Your home or mine?”

“You’re not spending the night.”

You chuckle in the passenger seat at their bickering. Tim doesn’t look at you this time, too focused on the road as he pulls out.

“How was it?” you ask Lucy.

“It was really good. We’re going out again.”

“When?” Tim asks.

“Don’t answer that, Lucy,” you suggest. “We can talk tomorrow.”

“Right,” Tim scoffs. “And she was worried about you picking sides.”

“You know, you could just say it,” Lucy tells Tim, leaning toward his seat.

“Say what?”

“I love you. Trust me, you tell me once and you’d feel so free. I love you. That’s all it takes, Dad.”

“The guy in your movie didn’t have to deal with this,” Tim mumbles.

“He actually did have a kid,” you say as he approaches a stop sign.

“Wait, what movie?” Lucy asks excitedly.

As you begin explaining the plot to Lucy, Tim shakes his head. You know he cares, and when you get home and kiss him, maybe he’ll reconsider simply admitting it.

[atyourmerci]

♡ Hook, line, and sinker (sub!abby // follower req)

Basketball!abby X nerdy reader

Next chapter

�� ♡

Summary: Abby is the head captain of your college basketball team, a known player in more ways than one…but you knew her dirty little secret

Warnings: smut, MDNI, porn smidge of plot, sub!abby, top!reader, cunnilingus, fingering if you squint, abby is sub inexperienced, abby is a whiny little sub, author enjoyed thoroughly, no y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: first req!! So thank you for sending it in. Hopefully this will hold y’all off till I can get out a full fic :// (this was supposed to be a drabble and I got carried away oopsies). Psa wrote this at 2am so it’s probably a MESSSS

♡ ♡

She was dangerous force, intimidating just by the sheer sight of her. She was the kind of girl that people walked on the other side of the road when she was coming, afraid of what would happen if she snapped. Hell even the girls on the court would run from her, and not in the way the game was supposed to happen, they just knew she broke bones.

Abby was brutal, she was a hard hit, she was uneasy to break… she was a fucking whiny sub.

No one knew that of course, none of the girls she tossed around like dolls as she rammed into them emotionlessly, it would ruin the reputation she had built, right?

But you knew.

She was embarrassed you ever saw that side of her, but fuck did she need you. Only you could let her beg and plead to let her cum after denying her over and over again. Only you were allowed to see that pretty pink pussy drenched in slick that ran down her muscled thighs. Only you ever made her cum.

The situation she had you in was less than practical. Abby begrudgingly asked for your help in physics since you were undeniably the smartest in the class…oh if she would’ve know the things you’d teach her. 

You weren’t her type, she liked easy girls, the ones that threw themselves at her so she never had to even try, open up to anyone. Some girls had pressed for more, to which she’d move on to the next.

You…you were difficult, hard to read. She was surprised you didn’t use the chance of meeting with her to study to get a good fuck out of her. You were strictly business, even when you couldn’t stop thinking about what she would look like with her legs wrapped around your head.

♡ ♡

That day had started just like the others, abby sprawled out on your tiny dorm bed while you sat neatly across from her, textbooks giving needed separation between the two of you. She always felt the need to dominate every space she took up. If only you could just break her…

“I- I don’t fucking get this. I’m not going to.” Abby says dragging her large hand cross her face. She was usually frustrated when she came to you, but today was the worst you’ve ever seen. She’d leave in a much better place than you had started, but after 3 hours there had been an unusual lack of progress.

“You’re not using your head,” you say growing impatient. You let out a sigh of equal frustration, knowing you’d have to break down the first wall of unspoken territory with her, “what’s wrong with you, you seem off today.”

She returns a scoff back at you, head tilting up to meet your eyes, “I’m fine.”

You shake your head knowingly back at her, “Abby you-“ you begin to protest as she cuts you off defensively, “I said I’m fine. Now are you actually going to teach me? Or would you like to keep interrogating me?”

Your mouth opens in anger. She wants to play this game, let’s play. “Don’t come at me because you were too busy fucking the entire woman’s soccer team last night to be prepared for this midterm.”

“Why the fuck do you care what I do,” she barks back with just the same vengeance.

You laugh at her blatant assumption, “I didn’t say I did.”

“Then why are you breathing down my neck,” she says narrowing her eyes on you, in an almost curious gaze, still laced with anger.

“I just think you should worry about yourself more than making half of Yale’s female population come.”

She returns a breathy laugh, shaking her head turning away from you, “and you don’t think I get off?”

You cross your arms with a testing gaze on the profile of her face, she couldn’t even look at you talking about herself that way. “I know you don’t.”

“And how the hell would you know that.”

“You’re so fucking tense I’m sure you haven’t gotten off in years, can’t even let yourself do it.” You watch as she twists her fingers around themselves nervously, still unable to meet your eyes.

“Y- you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says unsure, barely above a whisper.

Any assumption you had made had been completely checked off now, and you were ready to completely destroy her. Before you could make out a rational thought your hands were at the textbooks in front of you, the separation between you and your weary opponent. You moved everything off onto the desk next to your bed, closing the once necessary gap.

“Come here,” you say as she finally meets your gaze again. “W-what?”

“You heard me, lie down completely,” you demand, and she reluctantly agrees, unsure of her fate.

You make your way to the side of her, brushing your bare knees against her side which causes her to flinch as her fists are closed tightly next to her.

You place a hand on her abdomen first, trying to ignore the chiseled muscle beneath her black tank, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You then move your hand to the bicep caged around the outline of your legs, she was sure not to make direct contact, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You move the same hand to her cheek, cupping the sharp line of her jaw, her eyes now drowning in yours, the anger that had held her down now disappearing. “Have you been touched here?”

“Sometimes. N- not often.” Her gaze falters, fluttered down out of your reach at the vulnerability.

Your hand drags down to her neck, this time you let it roam, dragging your fingers across her pulse, “and here?”

“No.”

You click your tongue at her, “shame,” bending down on your knees to scatter slow kisses up the throb in her neck. You feel as she squirms slightly beneath you, “such a sensitive area, really,” you say returning upright, dragging your fingers down to her raised nipple, hardened by your kisses.

“Here?” You lay light circles around the heightened bud as her mouth falls open, quickly closing it with her top teeth on her lip to make sure she doesn’t crack.

She shakes her head rapidly in response, eliciting a giggle from your throat as you move to her other nipple, sure to give it just as much attention.

You let your hand drag down to the seam of her sweats, toying with the exposed skin between her shirt and pants with your fingertips. You watch as her teeth let the grip of her lip go and her head fall back to the ceiling.

The tips of your fingers ease under the sweats over her boxers, inching your way in till your hand cups her mound to which she lets out her first groan of satisfaction “Have you been touched here, Abby?”

“Fuck- no. never.” Her chest rising and falling heavily now, unable to catch her breath.

“You want me to touch you there abby?”

“Please- please touch me there,” her fist that was caged around your bent legs now gripped into your thigh, large hand almost completely engulfing your leg.

“Well since you asked so nicely, take off your pants. Only your pants.” Within seconds she had them down to her ankles, ripping them off and discarding them to the floor. Her hand returned to your thigh, eyes now trained on you.

You moved your hand back to her mound, covered by her black boxers. You began rubbing down to feel how soaked she was, pooling already. You wouldn’t give her much, not yet, only rubbing slow and soft stripes up and down to hear her breathy moans from the stoic woman.

“Does that feel good?” You ask her doe-eyed as she stare’s pathetically up at you, so needy for anything you’d let her have. “Y- yes.”

“Take off your boxers.” With the same enthusiasm she rips them down at your command, returning her gaze back to the ceiling, still embarrassed at her vulnerability but unable to stop herself.

“Open up those legs for me pretty girl,” you say rubbing your palm up her thigh.

“You can’t talk to me like that… I- I’ll come” she breathes out, bucking her hips slightly into the air to no sense of relief.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” you let out a small giggle at her admission, continuing to rub in her inner thigh.

“Y-ou don’t h-ave to- I’m close enough.”

“Awh pretty baby, all from some talking?”

She continues to buck her hips in hopes that your hand will meet her in the middle. “Please touch me before I finish.”

She had been so good, so pliable, so you honored her wish by placing your fingertips to her raised clit, soaked by her arousal. “Oh fuck!” She yelps, raising her hips into your touch, the hand on your thigh digging crescents into your soft flesh.

“So swollen, just for me?”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck- don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she begins to plead. You know she won’t last much longer. And you had to taste her.

You whip your legs around her backwards to straddle her, getting a perfect view of her sopping wet cunt, pretty pink lips coated in white slick. You lick a fat stripe down her slit, tongue pointing into her leaking entrance to get a taste of her.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” she begins to babble as you lap at her hole. She moves her wide hands to grasp at your covered ass in search of stabilizing herself.

You return to her swollen bud, immediately sucking it into your mouth, pulsing it systematically as you hold her wavering thighs open.

“I- im- FUCK-“ she begins to shake under you, whimpers flying out of her as she bucks into your mouth, riding out her early orgasm.

She continues to shake as you try to suck every last bit of her climax out of her, letting her revel in her pleasure. You wish you could talk her through it now, but you’re sure she’ll let you do it over and over again.

As cries of overstimulation flood her voice you let off her clit with a pop, eliciting one last whine from her throat. You return next to the half naked brute, right back to where it started.

She hops of the bed and lazily returns her clothing back to her body.

“No one hears of this. No one.” She says with a pointed look, deep into your eyes.

Ah, the reputation must be upheld. Whiny fucking sub.

Follower req by: @ghgygd

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part fourteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Blue holds her arm out, stopping you from taking another step.

"Sh. I see one."

Up ahead, a squirrel stills on a tree, beady eyes unblinking. In a matter of seconds, Blue throws her knife and pins it to the bark through the stomach. 

"Nice," you comment. "You got it on the first try this time."

In your hand is the other squirrel she killed for you. Ghost started working on your bow yesterday. He didn't say anything to you about it, but you spotted him sitting on the porch chiseling away at a hunk of oak. Until he's finished, you've struck another deal: helping Blue skin the rabbits in exchange for her killing squirrels with you. She's better at killing them with a knife than you are. 

"This is good practice for me." She wriggles the knife out and hands you the kill. "Poor guy didn't see it coming."

"Probably better that way."

She slips the knife back to her ankle. "Do you need more? Or is two enough."

"Two is enough. I saw these flowers by the trench that I think are edible."

"You can eat flowers?" She makes a face. The two of you begin heading back toward the camp. You didn't go off too far with her. Ghost said she wasn't allowed to go past the pond without him. Truthfully, you were surprised he let her go with you at all. 

"Yeah. Pink Sorrel. They taste lemony, and I'll add the leaves, too. Like a salad."

"Yum," she says sarcastically. "Did Paul teach you that?"

You nod. "He knew a lot about plants."

"Are you sure he didn't like you?" 

"Blue," you almost groan. "You've asked me this twice now."

"Well, you seemed to have spent a lot of time with him, and he taught you a lot of things."

"You can spend time with someone and learn things from them without... liking them."

"I wouldn't know," she shrugs, waving her hand around. "There are no boys here for me to spend time with besides Ghost." 

"Paul didn't like me in that way," you reaffirm. "Besides, he's dead."

There is a lingering pause as a cloud rolls over the sun, turning everything dim before it passes. The weather these past few days has been fluctuating like true spring. Cold showers in the morning, intense sunlight by noon, and clouds that come and go. The cabbages Blue planted have sprouted fat, juicy leaves. You've mentally scolded yourself for not including seeds in your deal with Ghost. 

"So when are you and Ghost going to start training or whatever?" Blue speaks up, switching subjects.

"Training?" you repeat.

"He told me you wanted to learn some things." She glances at you. "Look, let me just warn you, he can be a real hard ass. One time, he made me climb up and down a tree twenty times without stopping. And another time, he made me throw knives over and over until I hit the exact same spot on the tree again."

Right. Somehow, that last request you made of him has slipped your mind. You did ask him to teach you how to better defend yourself against other people.

It's been over a week now, and the two of you still haven't talked much except for the necessities. Honestly, it's probably best that way. Maintaining a clinical relationship with him should keep the peace and maybe even earn more of his trust. You're growing confident that he doesn't see you as much of a threat anymore. Last night, you ran into him again after waking up from another dream, and all he did was walk past you, step outside for a cigarette, and then go back to his room. He didn't seem suspicious of you being up at all.

That said, the reminder of the 'training' he's supposed to give you makes your teeth snag onto your lip. 

When you don't respond, Blue adds, "What exactly do you want him to show you? I hate to say it, but I don't think he'll give you one of his guns."

"No," you shake your head. "I don't want that. It's not Greys that I'm as worried about. As long I've got distance, I can use my bow for them. It's more about... other people. They get close. Too close."

"Well, you can always bite their nose off," she gives a bump to your shoulder.

You cringe. "I'd rather not have to do that again."

She pauses, looking at her boots. "What did it taste like?"

"Fucking awful. Probably the grossest thing I've ever experienced."

She looks up. "If you were a Grey, you would've loved it."

"Well, I'm human still, and I much prefer these guys." You wag the dead squirrels in front of her face and she laughs. If you could replace all her tears with that sound, you would.

"You still haven't answered my question," Blue tilts her head. "When are you getting started? Because I have some training in mind for you, too."

You arch a brow but don't question it. "Um. I don't know. Ghost hasn't said anything to me about it, and he's busy working on my bow right now."

"Why don't you ask him, then?" She shoots you a knowing smirk. "Are you scared of him, Twix?"

"No," you say all too quickly. "No... I'm not. I just don't know how to talk to him. He's not exactly approachable."

"Just do what I do. I say whatever I want to him. Except when he's pissed, then—" she freezes for a moment and lays a hand on your shoulder. "—it's better to shut up and listen. Believe me."

You speak under your breath. "Noted."

It's another dream that night which pushes you to actually confront him. The loud voices sharpen into images— a bloodied knife at your throat, a toothy smile, carved body parts. You wake up and grab your neck, expecting to feel severed tissue. Instead, you feel damp skin. Something bubbles up your throat and fills your mouth. Squirrel and Pink Sorrel. The taste makes you shudder, but you swallow your dinner back down. The dark, quiet living room mocks you. 

The morning after that, you find him on the porch. It's not raining, but the air pricks the back of your neck with dew. You've already bathed and woven your hair into braids, which is growing longer by the day and bordering on an inconvenience.

Ghost tilts his head the second a wood plank creaks beneath your footsteps, tearing his gaze away from the assortment of carving knives in his lap. You've caught him in the moment before he's started to work on your bow again.

He is wearing that balaclava that makes him look more man than ghost, along with a black hoodie and faded, brown jacket. The whites of his eyes are visible, slowly sliding up to yours. You fully realize he isn't going to greet you with a hello, and standing there in an uncomfortable silence doesn't interest you, so you bite the bullet.

"I want to start that other thing I asked you for."

He seems to know what you're referring to. "Right now?"

Your nails dig into your palms, realizing that you should've waited for a time when he wasn't preoccupied. Though, he's hardly ever not doing something. 

Blue was right. Something about him has you subconciously on the defensive; it's something you want to get over if this living arrangement is going to be long-term, which you'd prefer it to be. It was about two months ago now that he nearly killed you, and since then, he has kept you alive ten times over. Maybe you should focus on that: on the hand that pulled you up, on the warm jacket over your shoulders, on the bow he is making.

"Whenever you have the chance. But— now, if we could."

Ghost lowers his eyebrows and seems to think it over. "Now is fine. Your bow will have to wait a bit, then."

"That's okay," you speak as you exhale. "I don't mind."

It's at that moment Blue pushes through the front door and you almost startle. "Can I come with you guys?"

Ghost folds his knives up and responds in a firm tone. "No. You have work to finish up."

"But my leg is hurting," she retorts lightly. "I'd rather sit and watch you guys."

"Your leg was just fine yesterday when you were hunting and climbing trees." 

"That was yesterday. Today, it hurts." She bites her lip and shrugs.

"How convinient." He gives her a dry look.

"So is that a yes?"

"It's a no."

With a groan, she goes back inside. 

Ghost escorts you out of the gate and towards a small clearing nestled within a circle of trees. As you follow behind him, you find your eyes straying to his broad back and for a moment, you wonder if maybe you've changed your mind— or maybe you want to tell him to wait until Blue can come join.

But you remind yourself that survival is a proactive game; you can't laze around and keep getting sick from the memories. You need to shut them away into that box you've made, and in the meantime, get stronger.

"Here is good," he says, stopping.

It's been awhile since you've done anything like this. There were plenty of times Paul 'trained' you. He used to make you shoot at the trees until your back muscles were practically immobile. As an ex forest ranger, he wasn't much of a fighter. His advice was always this: "Don't let anyone or anything get close enough to where you have to fight them."

Clearly, his advice can only go so far.

In the five years you were at your old camp, you managed to keeps things at a distance for the most part. A few Greys had snuck up on you, resulting in thrashing and wrestling around to avoid bites. But there were only one or two times that you had to engage in close combat with a human. The few other survivors you encountered were usually punished by Paul's rifle or your arrows. 

You shed your jacket and hang it on a branch, left in just Ghost's shirt and your jeans. "So, um, what should I start with? Running laps?"

"You want to learn how to defend yourself, not run a marathon."

"Right." You nod and rub at the gooseflesh that sprouts on your arm. You turn to face him. "I was joking."

Ghost ignores your comment with a pensive expression, staring you down across the short distance. You put on a blank face and meet his eyes expectantly. 

The silence stretches for a second longer than what would be deemed normal. Is this just how he is, then? Or is it only with you? You're about to say something to put an end to it when he suddenly crosses his arms over his chest.

"You were a nurse." It should come out like a question, but it's more of a statement. His voice nearly makes you jump. 

You can't help it; you look away. "Um. I... wasn't, actually."

Why is he bringing this up? Never once has he asked anything about you. In fact, you sometimes toy with the thought that he might have forgotten your real name by now.

"Figured," he says.

You frown, flashing him a confused look. "What? Why?"

"You're a bit too young to have been a nurse five years ago."

You think back to the moment he found you with an inward wince. "So you knew I wasn't telling the truth?"

"It didn't matter if you were or not."

That's right. I don't need a nurse, he said. 

"It wasn't a total lie," you clarify, dropping your arms at your sides. "I was in nursing school."

He rubs his chin. "You should understand the body, then— its weak points."

Your fingers flex before they gesture to your face. "The nose and eyes are obvious ones. But... but if someone grabs me from behind like," you forcefully inhale, "Like you did, then I won't be able to reach them."

He gives a short nod, then looms closer. You will your boots to remain planted in the damp soil despite the overwhelming proximity and intimidating mass of him. You blink up as he points a gloved finger to the hinge of his jaw. "There's this, too. Pretty easy to dislocate." His fingers move to side of his corded neck. "And here. The throat is weak and vital."

"I still wouldn't be able to reach those," you point out.

"You have more than just your arms, Twix."

"So my head, then?"

"That's one way." He moves a step back and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Why don't you show me what you'd do— give it a try."

The suggestion should be expected given what you're asking of him— of course he would have to touch you at somepoint. Yet, it makes you stiffen. He motions his hand for you to turn around and with great hesitance, you comply, until you hear the crunch of twigs beneath his boots as he closes in behind you. You stare straight ahead at a tree and focus on breathing. 

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

His flat tone makes your eyes twitch in irritation and you are glad he can't see them. "Yeah. I know."

Just as he did all that time ago, his burly arms wrap around you, though not as firm and threatening. Your feet don't hang and you're not skin and bones this time, but once again, you are imprisoned against a hard chest. Your lungs pick up their pace and an artery in your neck jolts. 

"Just show me what you'd do," he says slowly, warm breath fanning across the top of your hair. "Don't worry about hurting me."

You wriggle against him, but even without issuing all his strength, it's useless. You stomp on his foot, figuring that toes are pretty vulnerable, but his thick boot hurts your sole more than you could possibly have hurt him. Your eyes begin to sting. You suddenly find yourself panting in frustration. Before you can even think about trying to use your head, full-blown panic unfurls in your chest. 

"Let go," you say under your breath. He must not hear you. Your voice turns to a snarled hiss. "Fucking let go of me."

His hold immediately loosens and you stagger forward, creating much-needed distance. Heavy breaths scratch up your throat. You wipe the back of your hand over your forehead and close your eyes for a moment, seeing blood and burnt skin against the backs of your lids. When you reopen them, Ghost is staring at you. The humiliation sets in as a red flush on your cheeks.

"Sorry," you shake your head and stare up at the clouded sky. "Just— maybe we should go back." Your arms hug around your stomach to keep its contents contained. "We can start this another day."

Throwing up in front of him again is low on the list of things you'd enjoy doing. He's already seen you near-death— no need to add a mental breakdown to your repertoire. Your lips press tightly together as you head to the tree for your jacket, but his gruff voice pauses your fingers against the embroidered flag on its sleeve.

"This isn't going to work if you don't tell me what is bothering you."

Your hand drops. "What?"

"What happened when you went to get the ammo, Twix?" he presses.

"I..." 

To tell him would be to pry open that box you've made and let him peek inside. He has never even asked a single question about you until today, so you press onto the lid, tight, and turn to face him with pleading eyes. "I don't want to talk about it with you, Ghost. Don't make me."

In response, he lifts up his hands in resignation. "Alright." He lowers them. "Why don't you at least tell me how you handled it?"

"Why?"

He taps a finger to his masked temple. "So I can understand how you think. How you keep surviving all this shit."

The wave of nausea settles as you form your response. "I... I burned him. He cleaned the bite on my arm with some alcohol. I distracted him a little and then smashed the bottle on his head. I had my lighter, so I used it."

Slowly, he nods, as if your words are not all that surprising to him. "And how about at the base when I left you?"

"There was that Grey," you remind him. "I bit the guy's nose and pushed him into it. If it hadn't been there, Blue and I would be dead. You see? I survived because I was lucky. I hardly know what I'm doing."

Ghost argues. "You survived because you saw opportunities and took them. You were smart about it."

"And what about when there are no opportunities? I will just panic like I did now." The tightness in your chest turns into something that has you roughly grabbing the jacket and sheathing your bare arms. "Let's just go back now.”

This time, he doesn't protest. The silence that clouds the short walk back is expected on his part, and purposeful on yours. 

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, brief mentions of violence, hospitals, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 8: happy home

🔹🔹🔹

You're officially going ‘home’ today, the doctors have decided that you're well enough to get the boot. It's a little strange to think about, as much as you hate this place it's also the only point of this world you actually know. You have no other base here, no aliases, no hidden safehouse, no Natalia, just you and some strangers. There's been a tension in your shoulders all day, thankfully no one's commented on it yet.

“Are you ready mx Wayne? I've prepared one of the more subtle cars today.” The older man comments respectfully, he's tall, thin, almost haggardly so. yet he carries himself like a military general. Mr pennyworth is an odd one for sure, he eyes the clothes he brought you critically, like he's nitpicking the minute details of you while speaking in respectful deference. It's almost amusing.

“One of the - do you think we'll be attacked or something.” Your tone is flat, yet your words are meant in jest. Though you are curious just how much your husband wastes on cars if there's a selection to pick from.

“If the paparazzi got a sniff of you, then yeah. Might as well count as an attack.” The tall kid mutters as he grabs your bag off the bed, you should probably start calling him Jason instead of the tall one, but eh.

You briefly eye the bag, the only things of ‘yours’ in it is your phone, your medication, and the syringe you managed to keep all this time. You'd tucked that under a layer when you were changing out of the stupid hospital clothes in the bathroom.

“…why would they care about someone leaving a hospital? Isn't Bruce the famous one of the two of us?” The thought annoys and baffles you, most of your experience with press was them accusing you of various assassinations and demanding you be locked away so you're not exactly too keen to run into issue here.

“Mx Wayne, you are a minor celebrity, whether you remember it or not. Being ‘just the spouse’ doesn't mean you're completely hidden in Bruce's shadow.” Mr pennyworth says firmly, his posture straightening slightly, his chin tilting up, he's trying to be firm, He clearly wants to get the message through you.

“…alright, point taken. Shall we?” You start towards the door to your room, both relieved and pissed to leave this place.

“Ahem, are you forgetting doctor's orders?” The tall one- Jason grabs the handles of your wheelchair in the corner, in that moment you want to grab it and throw it off the rooftop.

🔹🔹🔹

You slide the sunglasses a little higher up your nose as you approach the doors, Jason pushing your chair and holding your bag on his arm while Alfred walks in front of you both towards the back exit. Your thoughts drifting towards the next steps, planning your next move…. But why? what exactly are you doing? Playing pretend out of habit, no real mission here. No loyalty or fealty to uphold. No goal in mind. It's a strange train in thought to hit you right as your bathing wheeled out the door by your supposed kid.

You nearly swing an elbow when something is suddenly shoved in your face, a microphone hitting your chin while Jason curses loudly behind you and body blocks the reporter, the duo had been hiding in the bushes like a couple of wild animals.

“Mx Wayne! A word! A word please!” The dark haired woman persists, flailing around Jason while shouting at you, waving her microphone like she's wielding a weapon. “Any comment on your hospital stay? What did you think of your attackers trial? Are the rumors true that you're splitting from Mr Wayne due to your injuries?”

“No comment, don't you people have anyone else to harass?” Jason barks at them, now it's clear to you why he insisted on coming today, he's practically a shield with his stature.

The cameraman tries to slip past Jason, practically kicking at him as he tries to get a close-up of your face. Alfred all but shoves past him as he quickly takes over Jason's job of pushing your chair, grumbling quietly so only you can hear him.

“dear Lord above, no manners these days…”

You're tense, even that small interaction has you feeling put off and unsettled, you're secretive by nature, feeling at odds with yourself already, and now someone's trying to plaster your face on a channel or magazine? Treating you like the press treats Stark? It feels like your skin is crawling, a deeply unsettled feeling nestles in your stomach as you're quickly helped into a car.

🔹🔹🔹

You stare up at the mansion with a neutral expression as you drive up to it, well as the butler drives. Him and Jason have been discussing your physical therapy schedule for a few minutes now while you quietly stare up the long driveway, something about attending every week and needing shots every few days, you really should pay more attention. Gather Intel while you can, yet you're more focused on your newfound freedom.

…Though with the way this place is built, you're still not so free. The manor could pass for a sanitarium, large gates surround the property and you think you can see evidence of security cameras on key points, you agreed to come to this place for appearance sake, but now you kinda wish you'd demanded your own apartment instead. Something private where you wouldn't be locked in a house full of strangers calling you their parent.

“…do you recall anything about this place? Anything…reminding you of anything or…” the butler questions you when he notices your focus elsewhere, Jason glances from the passenger seat back at you with what you can only call a hopeful look in his eyes.

You shake your head slowly, watching as you wheel closer to your next lock-in. “No…nothing at all…tell me a little about it?” Your response is automatic, tone shifting to curiosity and meekness as you meet their stares, though inside you feel hollow as the car parks.

🔹🔹🔹

“-and this is one of your favorite rooms, the library.” Alfred gestures broadly as he opens the double doors, just like with every other room he's shown you.

“Alright…”

You step inside with Jason grabbing your arm like you'll fall on your face, and take it in, the room could pass as part of a public library. It smells musty and old, aging paper and real leather furniture apparent, you walk towards a random shelf and slowly trail your fingers across the spines as you read the titles, Austen, Dickens, Hemingway, Woolf, brontë, the Wayne's are big collectors of the classics it seems.

You glance over your shoulder, catching Jason settling on an armchair with a book in hand, Alfred stands at the door and just…watches you. The old fellow is quite observant you've noticed.

“Something wrong, Mr pennyworth?” your voice is gentle, watching him as closely as he watches you. He shifts just slightly, expression not changing even as Jason looks up from his book to watch.

“Not at all, master Wayne. Are you feeling up for more of the tour? There's still the sitting rooms and the sleeping areas, oh, and the cellars. Silly me.” He's equally gentle, yet you get the feeling this is suddenly a game of some sort. Something telling you to keep a lid on around him.

You fully turn to face him, hand dropping back at your side. “I'm surprisingly tired, to be frank. As little as I've done today…” you don't need to put on an act for that, you're actually exhausted, have been since the paparazzi incident as you left the hospital.

It's silent for a beat, Jason looks between the two of you with a confused furrow on his brow. You and the butler staring at each other like this is a game of cat and mouse. Finally the butler speaks.

“Yes that would happen, being hospitalized for as long as you were can have…. Strange effects on one. Come along if you're able.” He turns on his heel and leaves without waiting to see if you'll follow.

Your brow furrows just a second as you walk after him, was he implying something?

🔹🔹🔹

M.list | prev | next

A/n: we're finally out of the hospital! It only took *checks notes* eight chapters. Lol the interactions are gonna be a lot more interesting now hopefully 😉

Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet

[silv3rswirls]

Fawn

warnings: 18+, age gap(reader is 18), coercion, corruption, praise, humiliation, dirty talk, hair pulling, gaslighting and manipulation, alcoholism, some religious themes/talk, virgin/innocent reader, dark thoughts/fantasies, very vague mentions of familial abuse, shamming, obsession, overall yoongi is a ✨creep✨

Note: sometimes I piss myself off because I've been dying over this fic for days and now I don't even like it much anymore- can I have nothing?😭idk might start writing more smut now??

You were a fawn in headlights when he first saw you in that clearing. Your back had been to him and at first, he had swore and scoffed at you because who hangs around in the woods disturbing his peace? Everyone in this town knew he lurked behind the tree line, drinking himself stupid and doing whatever fucked up activities they rumored him to. Yoongi never minded being the talk of the town. He’d been an outcast since his teenage years. Since he stopped going to church with his family like every other prim family populating the place. They took some fun teenage rebellion and ran with it- he liked to think himself not as messed up as people whispered he was. He’d always thought himself not to be until he met you.

He found you picking berries and flowers, anything that looked pretty out in the forest. You were kneeling trying to choose the perfect dandelion to add to your basket when he stormed over; pissed that someone was in his usual drink until he couldn’t move anymore spot. He liked it because it was a short walk from where he liked to stare at the Sunday churchgoers leaving and freak them out. He could recall seeing you before, always glued to your mother's side wherever you went.

But he stayed away and kept to himself like always. He couldn’t say he had many, if any, friends around here. He’d been on his own since graduating and his family moved away shortly after. He hadn’t been close to them at the time so being left alone was welcomed at first. As for everyone else; if someone didn’t fit in around here they were an outcast without much care and it seemed that no one cared for him.

“What are you doing?” He barked, scowling as he approached you. Bottles clinked in the bag he was loosely holding and his cigarette was at the end of its life. You stood up, stumbling back a bit in shock. Yoongi wasn’t a kind person, so you’d heard, and his appearance didn’t do anything to help. He was scowling, his hair was frazzled from rolling out of bed an hour or so ago. Dressed in darker colors, a sweater and thick coat layered in him. You wanted to laugh over how tired and grumpy he looked, but the nervous swirl in your stomach told you not to.

“I’m just picking flowers” You straightened up, knuckles white as you gripped the basket and your free hand smoothing down your skirt. 

“Well this is my spot” he rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to hear your stupid humming or see that ridiculous frilly dress you were in. Something about it pissed him off, he couldn’t place it exactly, but whatever it was would put a damper on his getting shitfaced in the woods plan for today. Besides, you had just come from Sunday service, he didn’t need any annoying pestering about drinking or sinning, or whatever he was sure you would pester him about.

Your eyes landed in his bag, before flicking up to him a bit wide. “Are you drinking out here?”

“So what if I am?”

He watches you look around, pressing your lips together for a moment. “Could I try?” His brows raised in surprise. interesting outcome of all of this he supposed? “It’s just, I’ve always wanted to.”

“I know your mom, she’s crazy, you know? Where is she?”

“Still at service, she helps plan the food drive” You smiled a bit proud, “It’s next week.”

Yoongi hummed. She was a nutjob, he’d lost track of how many times she’d harassed him in the past month alone. “So while she’s planning to feed the needy you want to drink?” You nodded and he looked around in disbelief. Was this a joke? Was someone going to jump out and condemn him for even entertaining this? 

“Here” he fished out a bottle and held it out to you. He watched you smile, a curious twinkle in your eyes as you carefully set your flowers down and took it. He waited for you to try, there wasn’t anything better to do anyway.

Your sudden shyness poked him the wrong way. He watched you bring it to your lips for a moment before lowering it with a new nervous expression. Second guessing your rebellion? “Come on” he urged, moving to grab your arm and pull you over to him. You stumbled, kicking over your flowers and stepping on them as he dragged you over.

“Hey-” you cringed, the bottle clinking against your teeth as Yoongi held you firm in place and forced the drink into your mouth. “I don’t like it” You managed to get out between the burn of liquor and sputtering as you tried to breathe. You broke away, yoongi dumping the rest of the bottle onto you; dripping it down your hair and face, and soaking your pink cardigan. “Why would you do that?” Your voice wobbled, and your eyes were wet as you looked at him.

“You said you wanted to try, stop being a baby about it.” He rolled his eyes. He watched the heat of embarrassment color your cheeks, big wet streaks stained your face and your hair clumped wet against your skin. “Get out of here now and don’t come back.” 

He watches you grab your things and scurry away, and in the distance, he can hear your mother scolding you from the parking lot. 

“Why does everyone hate Yoongi?”

The already tense air between you and your mother grew thicker on the ride home. She was angry over the smashed flowers you brought her for her centerpieces and even angrier over your now damp and smelly clothing. The fact that you had come running back to the car in tears, crying like a child over Yoongi.  

“Isn’t what he did to you answer enough sweetheart?” She sighed, “He’s never been right, even when he was your age.” She cringed, “Ever since his parents left he’s gotten worse. He’s a creep honey, stay away from him.”

“His parents left him?” You perked up slightly, basically ignoring everything else she said. “Why would they do that? That’s so sad.”

“If he was my child I’d leave him too” She scoffed, “don’t feel sorry for him, he’s everything I’ve ever warned you about. You don’t want to get tied up in all that mess right?” She asked. You didn’t answer.

The second time you ran into Yoongi was in the same stretch of woods. You had nervously ventured out there a few weeks after the last time, unsure if you wanted to run into him or not. Your mother was right about him being scary. You’d never interacted with anyone so harsh before, everyone your mother kept in your circle was kind and caring, just as you were. All women, no men really got close thanks to her. Other than being intrigued about being around him and all the things he did that everyone had drilled into your head were wrong; you felt a bit bad for the older man. You couldn’t imagine being all alone like he was or listening to all the awful things people said about him. He couldn’t be as evil as people wanted you to think, right?

Maybe he just needed a friend?

When he saw you again he smiled in welcoming. After spending a few weeks mulling over what happened and being publicly shouted at for ‘harassing her poor child’, Yoongi had decided he wanted to get closer to you. What better way to stick it to your mom than to mess around with you some more? You were naive enough not to catch on, so what was the harm?

You just talked for a few hours with him. He listened more than opened up. He listened to you talk about what you liked to do, where to find all the best flowers around here, about how you were nervous about the little recital the church was having next month for the Holidays, and how they wanted you to sing in it.

He watched you fiddle with the robbins decorating your hair. Watched you kick your legs back and forth off the rocks you were perched on beside him. Watched how your skirt scrunched and rode up just slightly every time you moved. 

He went home that night feeling a bit odd over the experience. You seemed genuinely glad to have someone new to talk to. He wasn’t sure how he felt, because you looked so cute sitting next to him chatting his ear off. 

He was fucked to put it lightly. You were everything he hated about the people in this town. Stupid and blindly following the herd…but with more of an innocence. All Yoongi knew was that he was down bad and frankly, a little pissed about it. How many whores had he had in the past and how many could he go out and find at this moment? Too many, maybe they were getting boring to him because right now all he could think about was you. He wanted to poke fun at and just piss everyone off at first, but now…now he just wanted corrupt you. Odd, he’d never felt the want to do it before to anyone, but something about you was sticking to him. How could he not with how cute and innocent you acted around him? Your fault really...hadn't your mother already warned you about men like him? He wanted to take you until the innocent air surrounding you was gone until all you could think about is him and how good he fucked your little virgin cunt. How cute you’d be under him. Covering your breasts and trying to hide away from his hungry eyes. Your cute little moans, moans you’d likely never made before. The feeling of you stretching around him for the first time. A little too much to handle, but you’re eager to please him. How wet you’d be, how it’d be such a challenge to bottom out, and how you’d squirm and try to resist the urge to be run over the edge as his hips pressed into yours. Your thighs twitch and try to close, too overwhelmed by the new sensations happening in your body. He’d leave you ruined; never to be the same again.

Yoongi blinked himself out of thought, he was sitting outside of his house having zoned out thinking about it all. 

Well, change of plans he supposed?

Two weeks later snow began to fall and hanging out with you had become routine. Admittedly, it wasn’t that bad. Other than an insatiable want to get you in his bed, he couldn’t say he hated every moment spent hanging around you. It was refreshing not to be by himself all day, he hadn’t had a real friend since early high school, and every day since had pretty much been spent alone. Stuck with a family that refused to speak to him until he admitted his sin and went back to church to grovel for forgiveness; he’d never do that even now. To his surprise you hardly talked about your family or religion; he had part expected you to try and drill it all into him. But you were pretty quiet and liked to laugh at all the ‘silly’ things he did as you liked to put it. You thought the way he slurred words when he was drunk was cute, but wouldn’t touch a drink from him after what happened, not unless he sweet-talked you enough. Sometimes it felt like he could sweet talk you into doing anything he wanted. Sometimes you’d let him put a shot glass to your lips and pour it down, wincing at the burn and getting watery-eyed. Yoongi wasn’t interested in bringing you anything gentle, he liked the hard stuff that could send him over the edge with a few drinks.

“Yoongi?” You asked one night. He was sitting beside you on the park bench, wrapped up in a plethora of jackets and hoodies trying to fight against the bitter air. Obviously, he couldn’t go to your place, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you hanging around his yet. Truth be told he wasn’t sure if he could contain himself seeing you sitting in his bed just talking with that sweet tone of yours. Your eyes looking up at him, wide and fully focused on what he was doing or saying. You’d be wearing one of those silly frilled dresses you liked; he was sure of it. He’d thought about it so many times. How you’d let him get close and run a hand over your thigh, then over your stomach, to your chest. You’d let him kiss you, he knew you would. You liked doing what he said. You were so curious to partake in all the things he liked to do; all the things you weren’t supposed to do. One night he passed you a blunt without thinking much of it, you took it but nearly choked trying to smoke it for the first time. So you settled on letting him blow smoke in your face because he wanted to and you kept lying that you liked the smell of it.

“Yoongi?” You repeated, pulling him out of his daydream. He hummed, “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.” He’d lie if he didn’t want to answer, he lied to you a lot and you never seemed to pick up on it.

“Have you been in love before?”

“No.” He looked over at you again. You were playing with your hands in your lap, your nose was red from the cold and your hair was covered in snowflakes. He was still damp from earlier when you made him do a snow angel alongside you. “Why?”

“I don’t know “your face flushed, “I just wish I knew what it felt like. I’ve never been able to have a boyfriend” you explained, “Mom said I have to wait longer, I think she wants to find someone for me.”

“Well, that’s what good girls are supposed to do, right?” He asked, rolling his head back to look at the street light above and watching the snow flurries cluster around it. 

You were quiet for a moment, “I guess. I don’t know I’ve just been thinking alot lately, questioning some things.”

Yoongi nodded, he could remember when he started to as well. Hearing how everything in your circle talked about Yoongi didn’t sit right. Everyone should love everyone and get along, that is what you had thought everyone preached around you your whole life. Now they spoke about him like trash, ever since he poured the liquor on you. You hardly even cared much after the fact. It had been thrilling in your otherwise mundane life. Everyone thought you were staying clear of him, but you liked hanging out with him. Every evening when your mother left for work you ran to him. And every Sunday morning people still talked about what happened. How Yoongi shouldn’t be allowed to stay around here, how he was nasty and unholy, and how he'd do horrible things to you if you got close again. 

“You want a boyfriend?”

“My mom would kill me if she knew I did.”

Yoongi wet his lips and tugged your jacket until you looked at him. You were pouting, eyes cast down as you thought about it. “Well,” he started waiting for you to look up at him with your little doe eyes met his. “I could be your boyfriend” it rolled off his tongue, music to your ears. “No one will know, we’ll do all the things girlfriends and boyfriends do.” He waited for your reply, “unless you don’t like me?” He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke in such a tone: a soft and nearly whiny one. 

“No, I do!” You blurted out. “I want you to be my boyfriend, please Yoongi?”

He could listen to you say please all night.

“You’re not scared about breaking your mom's rules?” He egged in, “Not very good of you to lie.”

You scooted closer to him, grabbing his hand and pouting. “I-I don’t care about lying to her. Really! I’ve always wanted a boyfriend and I really like you, so why not?”

“Okay” he grinned, “I’ll be your boyfriend baby.” You grinned, genuinely excited. “We should make it official though, give me a kiss?”

You picked at the edges of your sleeves, “Y-yeah…but I’ve never…done that.”

Good, he thought. He wanted to be your first anything and everything. To teach you how to be a good girlfriend for him. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you. Just follow my lead.”

He grabbed your face, encouraging you to get even closer. Your legs pressed against his and he held your waist tight. He could see the shine of your strawberry lip gloss and the pink ribbon in your hair tickled his hand as he held your cheek. You were enthralled, gazing into his eyes like hearts were exploding behind you. He kissed you, trying to start slow and keep the cute boyfriend appearance up, but he was ready to get heated and messy with you. He did- kissed you harder, nibbled your lip, and pressed his tongue into your mouth. You were so meek under him, trying your best to keep up.

Your lipgloss was smeared- most of it left on Yoongi. You made it just-in-time before your mother got home. You scurried upstairs to change and pretend you’ve been in bed all night. You still felt breathless over the kisses. How he held you and how he asked you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t know how it was supposed to go, but you were sure he did it well. He had to. You hurried yourself under the covers. 

You had a boyfriend!

You kissed him!!

You smiled thinking about his hands holding you- how big they felt against your waist and his sting against your cheek. His lips were chapped and a bit cold against yours. He said he liked your lipgloss- the one you begged your mom to let you get just so you could wear it for him. 

“You’ve never touched yourself before?” You weren’t sure how the topic had been brought up, but Yoongi had just become far more interested in your video call after you let your secret slip out. You’d been lying around in bed talking to him for the past few hours. He was at home while you were stuck in bed for the night. Your mom was sick and hadn’t gone to work in a few days. You’d been missing Yoongi so he promised to call you.

“No…we’re not supposed to…my mom always tells me I shouldn’t it’s not pure and good.” You explained. Yoongi rolled his eyes, what a fanatic. 

“I used to think that, my family taught me the same things.” He started, “But I don’t agree. It’s normal, we’re all a little dirty sometimes, right bunny?”

You flushed, you liked it when he called you that. 

“I miss you, I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day. I wanna teach you more though, do you want to learn more next time?”

You nodded, slowly as you thought about his words. “You like when I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “Of course I do!”

Yoongi hummed, looking over the nightgown you were wearing. He liked kissing you well enough but he was starting to crave more. It’d been a while since he’d had sex, fantasizing about you while getting off was getting boring. He looked over your crossed legs, a bit upset it was long enough to cover your thighs- he liked them. It was, however, just snug enough to give him a subtle outline of your breasts, your nipples a bit hard grazing the fabric if you moved the right way. “Why’d you stop talking?” You pouted.

“You like my voice?” 

You nodded, “I really like it.”

“Wanna hear me call you pretty some more? How vain of you bunny. That’s a sin” he snickered, “does my voice turn you on?”

“I think so” You grew quieter, taking one headphone out and setting it aside to listen for your mother. 

“Is she still sleeping?”

“I think so.”

“You wanna do something for me, baby?” You nodded eagerly. “Touch yourself for me.” His tone was almost demanding, and needy as he shifted in his seat.

“But I’ve never…I’m not sure.”

“Come on,  try it for me?” Yoongi asked and very slowly you got off of your bed, leaving your phone propped against some pillows as instructed. Yoongi smirked, watching you look around your bedroom and to the door, double-checking the lock and listening for your mother. He was already feeling warm, mouth a bit dry as he looked you up and down. He couldn't help but to slip down his pants and tug at his cock in anticipation. The fact that you were so nervous, anxious that you’d get caught and reprimanded…that cute little nightgown you were wearing. “Just lift your nightgown” he wet his lips, watching you pick at the thin fabric and shyly lift it for him. “That’s it just a little, there you go” he encouraged, eyes glued to your panties. “Not so bad, right?” He smiled, and you let out a nervous, breathy giggle. “Turn around now” he watches you do as told, he hummed “bend over.” He watches you check your door again, a bit hesitant. “Don’t disappoint me now…good girl. Just…” Yoongi ogled over your ass, how the soft white fabric of your panties stretched over it, and how your legs pressed together now and again. “Just touch yourself for me” he finished. You did it for him, snaking a hand between your legs and clumsily playing with yourself. 

“Feels good?” He laughed at the little moans you let out now and again. “Don’t get shy, you’re so cute. Just show off for me baby.”

“You said you wanted to see it” Yoongi bit back a laugh. 

“I know, but…not here.” Your nose scrunched as you took another weary look around the alleyway. “Someone will see.”

“That’s what makes it fun” He grinned. He was feeling himself a little too much after a few drinks in his favorite bar. They wouldn’t ID him, and he knew they wouldn’t ID you. It was across town, too much of a trek for anyone who knew who you were to see. He’d gone through a few beers and some shots with you following him. You didn’t like the beer and refused a second shot, so he rolled his eyes and got you something smoother, fruitier. You were more content sipping on it, kicking your legs off the stool, and begging him to come to see you in the Holiday service on Sunday.

“You want me to come Sunday or not?”

“That’s not fair” you whined. Yoongi shrugged, leaning against the brick wall with his hips jutted out slightly. “Get on your knees for me bunny.” He watched you sink down, complaining when the slosh of rain and snow stained your stockings. “I’ll by you new ones” He assured, watching your brow knit ever so slightly as you fiddled with his belt; loosening it and going for his jeans button. He could feel his throat getting dry, ever since that little show he talked you through a few days ago he had been plagued with thoughts of you nonstop. You pulled his jeans down a bit, looking up at him for reassurance before shyly going for the boxers. He was already hard, it didn't take much from you nowadays. His fingers twitched, he wanted ot grab your hair and go to town, but he tried to take in your wide eyes, cautious little touches, and overall curiosity of it all.

“I don’t know if I should be doing this” Your voice was small, torn as you looked up at him again with a frown. “It feels wrong, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, it's normal. Lots of girls do it, don’t you want to make me feel good? I made you feel good the other night, it’s only fair.”

"I know you better than you think baby. I know those dirty little sides of you no one else does. You keep saying this is wrong and you shouldn't be doing it…but you’ve been saying for days how you want to please me. Now it’s time. Want me to help you?” He murmured. You nodded, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your stomach as you looked around one last time. He snaked a hand through your hair and guided you closer. His tip grazed your lips, pouty and slick from your lipgloss. Egairly you opened your mouth for him, trying to breathe through the new feeling and anxiety of having him in your mouth for the first time. 

Yoongi on the other hand felt like he could melt then and there. The feeling of your hot mouth against him sent tingles down his spine. “Just suck on it a little, grab the rest with your hand, and stroke it for me, baby.” your hand felt so small and cold against him, it made him shiver. He tugged your head a bit, he couldn’t help it. Your inexperience was too much for him. He loved the clumsiness, the little noise you made as you choked on him, how drool dripped down your chin and stained your blouse. “I know you can take it bunny, tell me if you can’t- fuck” he hissed, “you’re so good for me.”

He came in your mouth- he hadn't planned to but hadn’t been able to help it the moment you peered back up to him. Your face flushed, your eyes wide and teary, still looking at him in adoration. You pulled back, saying something about not liking the taste and wincing when more landed on your face. Yoongi was too immersed in trying to calm down to make some witty remark, he just took a moment to steady his breathing and look down at you. “Sorry,” he was quick to get his pants back up and get down to your level to help clean up. He sighed, watching you pick at your ruined stockings and skirt, “We’ll go to the mall tomorrow, and I’ll try to come to see you Sunday.”

He tried to seem indifferent to the way your face lit up, lunging to hug him. He smiled and took you home.

After taking you to the mall and replacing your clothes, Yoongi felt needier than usual for you. He was ready to take up, ready to steal that innocence away. 

“Stop pretending you don’t want to” Yoongi laughed. “Do you like it?” Yoongi grinned. You squirmed in his lap. He could tell you were trying not to like it, your brow scrunched slightly. When he grabbed your face and made you look at him he could see the concern clouded with lust in your eyes. “I know you like it, stop lying to yourself” He had taken you home for the first time, wasting little time before pulling you to the bedroom for a makeout. 

“I do” you whimper, “but…I’m not supposed to do stuff like this” You frowned, “Not until I get married and-”

“We’re not having sex though, we’re just playing a little, right?” He asked, grabbing your hips tighter, pressing his bulge against you. Your skirt rode up more, your knees pressed into the sofa as he guided you to grind against him. You were starting to get a little bold when you were with him, it was hard not to when he was constantly grabbing at you and saying all the right things to get you worked up. He was ready to take this to the next level- ready to fuck you.

“Come on, fuck yourself against me, baby, you’re already soaked and I’ve barely touched you.” He slipped back into his mindset fast. Your hips moved with his, he could feel the wet spot staining his jeans as you moaned and squeaked in surprise every time he pulled you hard against him. “Want me to fuck you? Seems like it, want me to ruin your insides?” He was into it, into how good your clothed cunt felt against his jeans and hard-on, how red your face was getting and the little beads of nervous sweat forming on your forehead. How your fingers clasped his shirt and nails pinched his skin, how into you seemed to be getting.

“I shouldn’t, but it feels so good” You cried, while Yoongi nearly came at your breathly little whines. 

“it's okay to be dirty like this, it makes you feel good, right? makes you want to cum like a good girl for me?” Yoongi went on, “Or we can stop, you can just pretend we didn’t do anything and go home, is that what you want?” “No” you cried, “It feels good. I wanna cum.” You shyly spoke, quickening your pace as he rutted against you.

“You gonna let me fuck you now?” He had been half serious when he said it, still content with sucking on and leaving hickeys on your shoulder. When you say yes? He felt like his brain short-circuited, he had you on your back in an instant; staring down at you like a hungry animal. Your shirt was unbuttoned, chest flushed and marked up from the groping. You were looking at him through lidded eyes, your legs still pressed together in anticipation as he moved in. 

“Fuck this is so wrong, isn’t it bunny?” Yoongi let out a shaky exhale, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, god you feel so good.” You were flushed under him, biting back moans and trying to take the pain of the first stretch like a good girl, like you knew he wanted you to. “I’m trying to go slow baby, but fuck…You’ll forgive me if I can’t, right?” He leaned closer to you, peppering kisses over your neck and sucking dark marks on your skin. “Please forgive me, baby, I’m gonna ruin you.” He murmured. He knew you’d never hate him, he knew you’d forgive him for anything he did to you.

taglist: @aft3rhrs

[moonstruckme]

I would love something similar to the attending dr Remus story but maybe with ceo!sirius? All of his employees see him as a ruthless business man and are scared of him and maybe reader shows up to have lunch with him and she’s been crying or upset about something and Sirius just melts into a little puddle in front of everyone trying to comfort her 🥲🥲

Thanks for requesting!

ceo!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You swear, Sirius’ office has to be soundproofed. You hadn’t heard a thing on the way over, anticipating him to be quietly working at his desk, but when you go inside he’s standing behind it, all but shouting into the empty room. 

“I’m looking at the numbers right here.” Sirius has his hands braced on the varnished wood, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he jabs one finger into the stack of papers in front of him as if for emphasis. “Do you have any idea—”

At the sound of the door opening and your quiet oh, he looks up. The severity melts from his expression, replaced by a familiar smile. “Hi, sunshine.” His voice seems to have melted too, the bark you’d heard when you’d come in replaced by something soft and crooning. “Lunchtime already?” 

“Sorry,” you say, hand inching back towards the door handle. “Len said I could come right in, I didn’t—”

“No, I told him to tell you that,” Sirius waves you forward, coming around his desk to kiss you hello. “I never want to keep you waiting, I…hey.” His brows furrow as he moves closer. “Hey, baby, is something wrong?” 

You blink. “No.” It comes out sounding like a question. 

Sirius palms your face. You lean into the touch instinctively, but then he thumbs at something on your cheek. “You’ve been crying,” he murmurs. 

Shit. You’d forgotten to clean yourself up. Have you been walking around with mascara tracks down your face all day? No wonder Len had looked at you the way he had. 

“Oh, that’s from earlier,” you say as breezily as you can. “I’m good now.”

But Sirius isn’t having it. He frowns, taking your face in both hands and inspecting you carefully. “What happened?” 

You try to shrug, but it feels futile and pathetic when he’s looking at you like that. “I got yelled at by some guy on the way to work.” 

“What?” he asks, dismayed. His hands slide down your shoulders to take your hands, guiding you to his seat. “Who yelled at you?” 

“It was—I don’t know, just some guy.” Tears press at the base of your throat, but you refuse to let them loose. It was a silly thing to begin with, and you’ve cried enough about it. “I was driving, coming up to a light, and I—okay, I know I was in the wrong, because I wasn’t paying enough attention, and I stopped right in front of a parking lot.” You cast your eyes down, chewing your lip. Sirius crouches by the chair so he can see your face. Clever maneuvering, but you suppose he didn’t get to where he is by poor planning. “I should have left a space for them to turn while the rest of us waited at the light, you know? But I just wasn’t thinking, and then I couldn’t back up, because there were people behind me, and this guy—” You swallow. Sirius rubs your knee, the crease between his brows deepening. “This guy got out of his car and came up to my window and was, like, screaming at me about what an idiot I was.” 

Sirius has got one hand on each of your knees by now, his perfectly pressed trousers wrinkling from his crouch. He looks up at you, indignation and upset warring in his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s awful. Fuck, I’d be crying too. Everyone messes up that stuff sometimes, who gave that prat the right to yell at you about it?” 

You shrug again, biting your lip to keep it from wobbling. Sirius can tell, and he coos, rising enough to needle his arms under yours. “C’mere, baby.” 

You accept the invitation eagerly, pressing your face into his collar and inhaling the faint musk of his cologne. He scrubs a firm hand back and forth between your shoulder blades. A few seconds of silence pass before the phone on his desk crackles to life. 

“Uh, sir?” 

You jolt away from him as if you’ve been caught, but Sirius doesn’t seem all that phased. 

“Yeah, that’ll be all for now,” he says insouciantly. “We’ll have to pick this back up later this afternoon.” 

“You’re on a call?” you accuse. 

“S’just a conference call, sweet thing. Ran a bit long.” 

A conference call?

“What time did you want to reconvene?” a different voice asks tentatively. You cover your face with your hands. They feel cool against the burning heat of your skin. 

Sirius rubs your shoulder lightly. “Say, four? And John, take a closer look at those numbers. You could save us all a lot of time by seeing sense.” 

“Yessir,” another voice—John, you assume—says. “And, erm, very sorry about your incident, miss. Sure the other bloke was just having an off day.” 

“Thanks,” you squeak, but Sirius says over you, “Mind your goddamn business, John,” and hits a button to hang up the phone. 

“Sirius,” you say miserably after making sure to check that the light on the phone is no longer on. “How could you not tell me you were on a call?” 

“Excuse me, I had other priorities at the moment,” he argues, taking your wrists and prying your hands from your face. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’ve no reason to be embarrassed.” 

“I complained about my road rage incident on your conference call!”

“It was a call full of accountants, love. You’ve probably just reminded them they’re alive.” 

You give him a look. “I’m very cross with you.” 

Sirius smiles. “Rats, if only there were a way for me to make it up to you.” He stands, grabbing a paper bag you hadn’t noticed from beside his desk. “Would my favorite girl’s favorite sandwich from her favorite sandwich shop be a good place to start?” 

“That is a lot of favorites,” you allow, but the words don’t quite process until he pulls a wrapped sandwich out from the bag. You gasp, reaching for it. “Oh my god, how long did you have to wait in line for this?”

“I didn’t,” he says, somewhat sheepish. “Len waited over an hour, though.” 

“You owe him a raise,” you say sternly, but accept the peace offering, peeling off the wrapping. 

Sirius laughs when you bite into your sandwich and moan. “Damn, baby, you’ve never made sounds like that for me.” 

“It’s a different kind of love,” you say through a mouthful. 

“Enough to make your shit day a bit better?” 

You slow in your chewing to give him a soft look. “More than enough. Thanks, Siri.” 

“You’re welcome.” He gives you a saccharine smile, leaning forward for a kiss, but you dodge him. 

“Wait, m’chewing!”

“And?” He takes your face in both hands, holding you captive as he pecks you firmly on the lips. “There. Waited way too long for that.”

[shojizbae]

Wellness Checks

Spencer Reid x Reader

It was 11:37 when you checked your wristwatch. A knock sounded at your door, and you reached for your glasses on your nightstand blindly. Both your dogs sprang up and barked at the sound of the knocks.

"Nike, Artemis, Heel!" you shush them and rub your eyes to get them to focus. The two fluffy German shepherds follow your calves as you get to the front door, clicking the two deadbolts open. They sit as you open the door and reveal Dr. Reid. Only having been on the team for five months, you view Spencer as not just your senior but your superior. And not just the lanky piece of ass that he is.

"Uh, Spencer!" You attempted to smile, and he greeted you back. "Err, come on in." You stepped out of the way and widened the door. "Is there anything I can do for you?" You led him to the couch, where both your dogs sat and stared at him.

"Can I help you with something? Tea, maybe?" you start to walk away

"You were supposed to be at work almost two hours ago (Y/n)."

"I must have overslept, I'm gonna get some coffee would you like a cup."

"As long as it gets you to stop dodging my questions."

"Yes, Sir. How do two cups of sugar sound?" He's trying to be stern and show how cross he is with you, but it's hard to make a serious face when you're not wearing pants. You strut off the kitchen, and he can hear your faucet as you fill the coffee pot. He takes a moment to take you into your apartment. The walls were an olive shade, and there were giant purple curtains. It looked lived-in.

Organized chaos, as people liked to call this.

Your bag and shoes were tossed into oblivion. Your couch had just about a million throw pillows and a basket of blankets. It was cozy. You returned with two large mismatched mugs, handed one to him, and knelt on the couch. At the touch of your bare legs against each other, you realized that you had forgone pajama bottoms the night before. Instead, you had on an old gray UCLA raglan and some red underwear. Thank God you didn't wear a thong yesterday.

"Uh, I'm so sorry I didn't realize." You begin to stand, but a tentative grip on your wrist pulls you down.

"It's fine. You weren't expecting guests." you laugh but pull a nearby knit blanket over your lap

"Why were you sleeping so late? Normally, you are fifteen minutes early. What happened?" You take a sip from a mug that says '30 and flirty.' "(Y/n)." His voice is back to demanding.

"I'm sorry," you rub your eyes. I stayed in the office late to finish up my reports and help JJ with the debriefing.

"Bullshit, JJ was the second out; she had to get back to her son." He takes a long swig of his coffee and sits it on the table. "I've been profiling for over seven years. You're not going to get past me. Was it something on the trip?"

At the mention, you hang your head and whimper.

Tears pour uncontrollably from your eyes, and you hear them tap against your lenses. His mug clicks against your vinyl coffee table, and he pulls you into his chest by your shoulder.

"Shh sh, it's okay." His other hand rubs at your hair. "I know this job takes it out of you. It's important to focus on the fact that you're inciting real change."

"how could someone do that to a child? To ten children and keep going!" You pull up from your hands and look him deep in his eyes.

"I know it's not right." he holds the back of your neck as your forehead presses into his breast.

"How could- how could you do that to a poor sweet child." you begin to let out a mirage of sobs. Incoherent pleas. He pets your hair as you dampen his nice gray sweater. When you've finally calmed down you sniffle and wipe your eyes.

"You should get some water. Gets up and rummages through your cupboard and fills it with tap water. You throw back the last coffee and pull your knees up to your chest. You look up as he hands you a clear blue plastic cup.

"Thank you." you push your glasses up your nose. "You're free to grab anything in the kitchen. Although my groceries are quite lackluster."

"That's alright. I ate before I got here. I never knew you needed glasses."

"Oh, well, I try not to be public without my contacts. I was called four eyes more than I could count."

"Yeah, middle school is the worst."

"This was actually grad school." Your laugh is finally genuine, but you punctuate it with another sniffle.

"Well, I'm just going to text Hotch that you're going to stay home today." He reaches into his pocket

"No, no, I'll come in today. I just needed to rest a little." You push his phone to his chest and stand up. "I'll be right back."

You are ushered to your bedroom, which is basically a big closet separated from the rest of the space by three wide steps and two industrial barn doors. The two dogs follow you to your room and stand at the doors, scrutinizing Reid. You're halfway through buttoning your pants when you realize you're missing your good bra.

"fuck," you whisper to yourself "Reid!" You yell into your apartment

"Yeah!" As he responds, his voice gets louder

"Uh," you turn around quickly and cross your arms over your bare chest

"Oh, sorry,"

"I'm sorry, but could you get my bra from my purse?"

"Sure thing."

"Sorry, it's probably somewhere near the door." your forehead connects with your dresser briefly until you hear him knock on your door jam.

"Here." He taps your shoulder, and you turn slowly, but he squeezes his eyes shut like a 12-year-old boy.

"Oh, come on, Reid, it's not like you've never seen a topless girl before," You tease and spin around to put on your bra. "I'm decent now." You tap on his shoulder. A new method of communication for the two of you. He opens his eyes but looks away when he sees you're only halfway through buttoning your light blue blouse.

"Seriously? I know you didn't have a chance to have fun in high school, but this is ridiculous."

"Well, this is also unprofessional. You're my colleague." He put his hands in his pockets.

"I'm also ready to go. My shoes are by the door." You point to the exit, gather your belongings, put out food for the dogs, and make sure the dog door is unlocked. Reid insists that you take his car and that he'll drive you home at the end of the day.

His car is nice and clean, with only one of those clip-in air fresheners. He takes some sort of secret route to evade the Virginia traffic. You arrive at Quantico and log in to the relief of your coworkers.

"What took you so long?"

"Reid couldn't find my bra." You snort as you fill up another mug with coffee

"Heyo!" Morgan cheers

"That's not completely true." He interjects

"No, it's not. I was having a rough time processing our Alabama case. I guess I slept through some of the trauma."

"You should have stayed home (L/n)," Hotchner says

"No, I need to do at least three hours of work to feel like I've been productive. I'll be fine if I can stay behind my computer and file reports."

"Ok, but you'll be going home at five at the latest." He orders

"Yes, sir." You type in the government password and tie up some loose ends. Many of your reports were halted, and new cases sprung up. Your computer read 4:57 when your to-do list was empty.

"Hotch?" you knock on his door frame and poke your head around the corner. He politely hangs up the phone and rubs his temples. "I'm gonna head out now?"

"Good. And fantastic job finishing your reports. Go get some rest."

"You too," you meander to Spencer's desk and pat his shoulder. "Can you drive me home now?"

"Of course,"

"Hey, don't get too rowdy lovebirds. We need y'all tomorrow!" Morgn calls from his desk, but you're already speeding for the door when he finishes his sentence. Reid makes a sojourn at a nearby Chinese food place and returns with a doggy bag. He takes you and the food up to your apartment and watches you deadbolt him in with you.

"You understand, right?"

"Of course, I also noticed you don't have a ground or top-floor apartment."

"Yeah," Today, you drop your purse on the bench by your door and line your black heels up nicely on a rack. "Well, ground-floor apartments are easier to break into. And if I'm thrown off my balcony, it's low enough that I probably won't die—unless I land on my neck."

"Lovely."

"Feel free to make yourself at home. I'm going to put on some pj's." you start taking off your blouse as you walk to your bedroom. His worm-like reaction only entices you to embolden yourself. You shed your business attire, toss it in the hamper, and put on the same shirt from earlier and an oversized zip-up sweatshirt.

You grab a pair of grey sweats from your drawer and bring them to Reid. He's pulling small white boxes out of the brown bag. You tap his shoulder to avoid startle. He jumps slightly, though.

"Here, those slacks don't look couch-worthy." You hold them out, and he looks hesitant to. "Please, you're a guest who bought me dinner." He pressed his lips in a thin line. He got up with a sigh and put the pants on in your bedroom.

You flip through the channels until you get to BBC and play Dr Who. Reid joins you, wearing an undershirt and your sweats, and is shocked to see his favorite show on the TV.

"Those fit you better than me. You should keep them."

"You watch Dr. Who?"

"Of course," you open a box of Peking ravioli, "Come, take a seat." you open the blanket on your lap for him. "Oh, actually, I have to feed the dogs." You spring upright when he sits down, so he gets a view of your perky butt as he tries to take in the fictional storyline. You scuttle off while he struggles with chopsticks with some lo mein.

You rejoin him, pull the blanket over your lap, overlapping your legs on his. You laugh along with the absurdity of the episode, and as breakfast at Tiffany's comes on, you tell Reid that you're getting drowsy. It's not much later that your glasses are pinching on his arm, and he can feel your lips distorted against him. He pulls you into his chest.

As your snores overlap the sounds of the movie he slides his arm under your knees and by your neck to carry you off to bed. The dogs immediately start barking and leap toward him.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, Artemis Nike Down! Safe." You assure the dogs. Immediately, they lay down and whimper at you. Reid opens your blankets and tucks you in. Before he leaves he places a succulent kiss on your forehead.

"Spence, stay."

"Ok,"

[exhaslo]

What about Miguel with Fem!Reader who is Spider-Man's biggest cheerleader? It can be where she was a civilian that he saved once who became like his biggest fan. She has all the merch and stuff of him. Of course she dosn't know his identity but she dosn't care. He dose no wrong in her eyes, also cheering for him and squealing and fangirling when she sees him.

I imagine that if they ever have sex together she's just talking and disbelief and how she can't believe that this is happening to her and how shes dreamed of this. Miguel ends up having to cover her mouth to get her to be quite, but he secretly really likes his little fangirl gushing all over him in more was than one.

Ohhhh, you know what would be even spicer??? If Miguel was secretly a Yandere! Hope you'll like the little addition to your request~

Warning: Smut, MINORS DNI, rough sex, bondage, possessive, masturbation

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

This obsession started a few months ago. You were on your way to work when the futurist version of the HobGoblin started to attack the city. You were running down the street, trying to find shelter when a building was destroyed above you. Just when you thought your life was over, Spiderman came and saved you.

Since then, you would fight when it came to anything involving Spiderman. He was your savior, your hero, your everything. You fell head over heels for the masked man, wanting to make sure people understood that he was a hero.

You couldn't get enough of him. Soon, you started to collect anything on Spiderman. You wanted to worship him. You grabbed anything you saw. Shirts, plushes, toys, hell, you even started to buy artwork and pins from people. You just wanted to be close to him. By any means necessary.

Getting yourself ready, you had decided to join a small parade in the lower half of Nueva York. It wasn't as safe or clean as the above half, but hell, they were throwing a hell of a party. The people in the lower half were obsessed with super heros.

Once you got there, you were in love. The amount of the Spiderman merch had you in heaven. You bought everything and went into the crowd, looking around for your hero.

"Kya!!! Spiderman! I love you!" You cheered as you saw the masked man, swing around.

---------

Miguel thought it would be funny to just stop by and see the parade. He was uncomfortable with everyone in the lower half worshiping him as a God or a messenger of Thor. It was all a mess. As he swung around, Miguel stopped as he heard you.

He landed against a building, watching you cheer and wave towards him. His eyes widen as he waved back, causing you to jump and squeal in response. You were fangirling over him. Just like that, Miguel ate his words. This was something he could get used too.

More like, he could get used to you.

Claiming that you love someone is a big deal. Miguel wanted to test you. He left soon after, already thinking of your dedication. Miguel had been looking for someone. Perhaps he had been waiting just for you. For you to be his good girl and listened to every word he said.

Someone just for him.

---------

You were humming happily to yourself as you walked down the streets of Nueva York. It was your day off and you were hoping to catch a glimpse of Spiderman swinging around. It was a fun pass time for you.

"The Public Eye will catch him one of these days! That menace, Spiderman, can't keep breaking the law forever!" A stranger barked. You gripped your coffee,

"He's not a menace! He's a hero! You're just jealous that you can't do anything that he could!" You barked.

"You're just another fangirl!"

"You'll change your mind when you're in trouble!" You huffed.

Storming away, you threw away your coffee in anger. Some people just had no idea of how Spiderman really was. He was a hero! There was nothing he did that was wrong!

"I suppose I should be thanking my fans," Spiderman said. You squeaked, looking up into the alleyway,

"S-Spi-Spiderman! Ohmygoshohmygosh! It's you!!" You squealed happily.

Miguel smiled at your excitement. He webbed your lips and motioned you to follow him into the dark alley. You happily followed. Miguel inhaled deeply, enjoying your behavior. He could see the sparkles in your eyes as you happily jumped in place.

"When I take the webbing off your mouth, I want you to tell me your name and where you work, okay?"

You nodded. Miguel smiled as he casually stroked your cheek, slowly taking the webbing off. He could see the love in your eyes. You truly were head over heels for him. How delicious.

"(Y/N), I work at a corporate office for retail clothes."

"Interesting." Miguel observed you, "You know, I take things quite seriously, (Y/N). So, when I hear the words, 'I love you', come out of your mouth, it drives me to want to test that."

"I do! I do love you! I'll do anything to prove it!"

"Then have sex with me-"

"Yes."

Miguel held back a laugh by how quick you agreed. He wrapped his arm around your waist and asked for your address. He wasn't going to take you to his place, yet. He wanted to see what made you tick. He wanted to make sure that you were dedicated to him.

You on the other hand, were squealing mentally and physically. You were in Spiderman's arms, swinging to your place. The thought of fucking him had not even crossed your mind yet. You were living in the moment and right now, you were in HIS ARMS.

Once you arrived at your place, you begged Spiderman to wait before entering. You had to clean up your mess of clothes on the floor. You whined, throwing them all in a basket and double checking your room to make sure that it was safe.

"You really are a fan," Miguel whispered, looking around at your collection of him. He paused, seeing a body pillow of him, "How-"

"I paid someone." Was all you said and moved it aside. Miguel turned to you, smiling under his mask,

"So, I assume you fuck yourself to it, huh?"

You tensed, facing Spiderman and slowly nodded. Okay, now you were recalling that you agreed to have sex with him. Your cheeks started to burn as you glanced at his muscular body. The body of a god, basically.

"Get on the bed and show me what you do to yourself," Miguel whispered in your ear.

You complied. Crawling on your bed, you stripped yourself of your clothes and spread your legs. Spiderman was about to watch you masturbate. This was making you wet. A shudder escaped your lips as you rubbed your clit, imaging what Spiderman was going to do to you.

Miguel on the other hand was watching with amusement. You listened to every command he's given. You were being such a good girl for him. Touching yourself so naughty with him watching. You were just so desperate for him.

"Would you let me do anything to you?" He asked, slowing crawling on the bed as you started to moan and squirm.

"Y-Yes!"

"Even fuck you into being mine?"

"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out, reaching your orgasm.

Miguel resisted a groan as he raised his mask slightly, licking your fingers in the process. You were doing such a good job tempting him. He was going to enjoy having you to call his.

"Don't tell me you're tired after just that?" Miguel webbed your hands to your bed post, "I'm going to make sure you don't think of anything else but me."

"Of course!"

Miguel just chuckled in response as he showed you his erection. Your eyes widen as you started to freak out. This was actually happening! You were actually about to have sex with Spiderman.

"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, this is happening!" You squealed.

Miguel glanced at you as he slowly inserted his dick inside your folds. You were totally fangirling and geeking out. He smirked as he webbed your mouth, listening to your muffled moans. Miguel lowered his mask, wanting to hide his smile.

He watched your eyes roll back, moaning as he shoved his dick fully inside you. Your body arching in pleasure as he started to ravish you. Such a delicious face you were making. You were giving your whole body to him.

"You're sucking me in so much, you truly must love me." Miguel smirked.

Miguel held your hips tightly, listening to your muffled voice. He could get used to this. Your muffle cries and moans as he destroyed your pussy. You said you loved him. There was no taking that back now.

"If you truly love me, you'd let me have my way with you, right?"

You nodded, moaning into his webs as you felt yourself about to burst in pleasure again. Spiderman was being so rough with you. It was like you were his fuck doll, and you were loving every minute of it. His dick was so big and filling. You were going to lose count with how many times you cam.

Gasping, you felt like you saw stars as he pressed you into mating position. His hips slamming into yours as you felt him cum inside you. The stamina this man had for fucking you while cumming. You flung your head back, still in disbelief.

What if you got pregnant with Spiderman's babies? Nearly squealing at the thought, you spread your legs out more, moving your hips to his. This had to be a dream. Being fucked so good by Spiderman. Oh, you were dreaming well!

"Good girl, you love my dick, don't you? You want me to keep cumming inside your tight little pussy, right?" Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting rougher.

"Mhpm~" You nodded violently, feeling the urge to cum again.

Miguel hummed as he rubbed your clit, watching a white ring form at the base of his dick. Your pussy was still so tight and wet, just for him. You were going to a great stress reliever. Miguel was going to keep you for himself.

The best part? There wasn't much he had to do to convince you otherwise. You were just as obsessed with him as he was with you. Groaning lowly as he gave you another load of him, Miguel decided to remove the webbing from your mouth.

"You'll do whatever I say, right?" He asked lowly.

"Mhm~" You nodded, trembling slightly. Miguel stroked your cheek, smirking at your fucked out expression,

"Good. Quit your job. I'll be taking care of you from now on."

"Y-Yes," You gasped as he started to thrust into you again, "I-I'll quit! I'll quit for you!" You moaned.

"And block everyone on your phone. You're only going to need me from now on."

"Y-Yes!"

Oh this was too easy. Miguel was enjoying this far too much. You were the only one who was listening to every command he made. How delicious. Pressing himself against you more, Miguel paid close attention to your blissed out expression.

"Who do you belong to now?"

"Y-You! Spiderman!" You cried out, reaching another mind blowing orgasm.

"Mine."

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

Hope you enjoyed~

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 7

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: the weeks pass and you and evan get closer, hanging out more and more outside of the library. you try to leave the library early one day, but when evan pouts about it, you agree to let him go get groceries with you. then, you go for a drive with him one night.

word count: 3.9k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: the way i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this. i have nothing else to say. thank you so much for all the kind words so far!! i'm really loving writing this fic!<33

warnings: no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader, inexperienced!reader, evan being the only man ever<3

You continue to hang out with Evan for a few weeks, nothing much else happening but quick kisses and stolen glances. You’ve begun to hang out with Evan outside of the library; going to different restaurants and going on walks around campus, but you still haven’t gone to each other’s places. Not that he doesn’t want to. He’s been itching to get his hands on you, but because he’s letting you set the pace, and you’re still almost as nervous as the first day he kissed you, he holds back.

Your assignment is practically forgotten by now, as you both spend more time talking to each other in the library than actually doing any work. It doesn’t matter much; you’ve gotten a lot more done than most people in your class, but you’re still not completely done.

Tonight, you plan to get groceries, but Evan puts up such a fight when you tell him you have to leave the library early that you’re now forced to drag him around the grocery store with you. You almost give in to him when he complains, but knowing you’re running out of food in your fridge, you know you can’t put it off any longer. At least he agrees to drive you there, meaning you don’t have to lug your groceries a couple of blocks back to your apartment.

“You go grocery shopping with a list?” he exclaims as you pull up the note on your phone. You turn your head slowly to look at him, blinking as you take in his words.

“You- you don’t write a grocery list?” You’re in disbelief. How else are you supposed to shop? How else would you know what you need?

“Why would I?” he asks, a hand on the shopping cart as you push it around the produce aisles, picking up some fruits and vegetables on your list.

“To plan out your meals? Write down what you’re running out of?” you explain, and you can’t help but laugh softly at his words. It’s such a boy thing to say, you think.

“I have a meal plan for football. I basically just get the same things every week.” he murmurs, shrugging as he follows you around the store. You bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“Let me guess, chicken and rice? Maybe some broccoli?” you tease, laughing louder when he looks down at you with furrowed brows, and you realize that you’re right.

“Why would I need anything else?” he says, pouting slightly as you laugh at him. Your eyes soften at his pout and you give him a soft smile as you try not to laugh anymore.

“Some people like having a variety, Ev.” you tell him, rolling your eyes at the fact that he really eats like how you’ve heard some student athletes eat.

He can’t help but smile at your nickname for him. He wants you to say it again, but he knows it would be weird if he were to ask you to.

You make your way around the store, going through your list, which you have strategically written in order of how you walk around the store. The slight pout has made its way back onto his face, upset that you’re focused more on your list than him, but he keeps following you around the store, making jokes every now and then. 

You’re almost done when you pass by a big display of cookies. Evan stops and grabs one of the large boxes, chuckling softly as he holds it out to you.

“Do you remember these cookies? I used to beg my mom to get them, but she stopped buying them because I always snuck them when she wasn’t looking and ate the entire box in less than a week.” he tells you, an amused smile plastered to his face. You smile at his story, but shake your head, telling him you’d never had them. He scoffs, and throws the box towards the cart, telling you that you just had to buy them, but the box misses the cart. It bounces back towards the display, which causes the top few rows to topple down, the sound echoing through the store.

He smiles sheepishly as you bury your face in your hands, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment as everyone around you whips their heads around at the noise. He laughs awkwardly, picking up the box he threw and putting it in the cart. He stands still for a minute, but seeing a few people still looking at him makes him drop down and pick up another box, gently placing it back on the display. He quickly walks over to you, your face still hidden in your hands, and puts his arms on either side of you to push the cart away.

You follow him, too embarrassed to even think of the way he has you trapped between his body and the cart. You take your hands away from your face once he navigates you out of the aisle.

“I thought you played football, you can’t even throw cookies into the cart?” you mumble, biting your lip. He smiles awkwardly, making his way to the checkout.

“You make me nervous, princess.” he teases softly, his face still flushed in embarrassment. Your eyes widen as you notice he’s on his way to the self-checkout.

“I still have a few things on my list.” you tell him quietly, looking up at him as he keeps you between his arms.

“We need to get out of here right now.” he whispers, noticing the worker that’s currently giving him the death glare, having seen the entire thing. You can’t help but laugh, which makes him laugh as well. He helps you bag all your groceries, and then you quickly make your way to the exit, both of you mumbling a quick “sorry” as you pass the worker.

“You really don’t have to carry all the groceries up.” you tell him, letting out a soft laugh as you watch him try to carry all your bags in his hands. He shakes his head with a grunt, standing in place as he waits for you to lead the way up to your apartment. 

“I got it, princess. I’m gonna carry them.” You sigh, shaking your head with a smile as you make your way up to your apartment, knowing he won’t let you take a bag even if you tried. Once you get to your front door, you unlock it, then turn to take the bags from him. He shakes his head, scoffing as he pushes past you and into your apartment.

“I can make it a few more steps. Look at me, I can handle it.” he teases you over his shoulder as he places the bags on your kitchen counter. He turns back to you, striding over to you with a smirk. You fight back a smile, shaking your head, and wrap your arms around his neck when he gets to you. 

“Thank you.” you say softly as you tilt your head to the side, keeping your eyes on him.

“I think I’m gonna need a better thank you than that, princess.” he murmurs as he leans down to meet your lips, putting his hands on your soft hips and pulling you flush against him.

You smile into the kiss, rising onto your toes so he doesn’t have to bend down as much and weaving one hand into the hair on the back of his head. He pushes you back against the counter, raising a hand to your jaw and tilting your head up to deepen the kiss. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth and pushes himself harder against you.

You tilt your head back as his lips move down to your neck, nipping and sucking gently, which causes you to shiver. He lets out a soft chuckle as you react to him, feeling his jeans get tighter as he feels your plush belly and chest against his torso. You tense slightly as you feel his hard length against your stomach, and you pull back suddenly, feeling your nerves coming back.

“I have to put my groceries away.” you mumble in a daze, looking up at him through hooded eyes. He groans softly, giving you another quick kiss as he keeps you pressed against the counter.

“Come on. They can wait, can’t they?” he says in a teasing tone, licking his lips as he takes in your puffy lips and blown pupils.

“I have frozen stuff.” you trail off, looking towards the groceries. As much as you want to keep going, you can’t help the dread that’s filling every inch of your body. He’s so attractive, and he’s made it very clear that he’s experienced. Even though deep down you know it doesn’t really matter, you’re still a little worried about not being able to keep up. He senses your nervousness, and runs his thumb across your cheek to try to help ease your nerves.

“I guess I’ll let you do that.” he says in a low tone, giving you a small smile. His smile widens as he sees you smile back, then traces his fingers down from your cheek to your collarbone, his eyes following their path. “I’ll see you later?”

You nod, biting your lip. He must be getting a little frustrated with you, you think, but he never tries to push you any further, and you’re glad. He backs away from you begrudgingly, and your arms drop back down to your sides. He leans forward and gives you one last kiss with a hand placed softly on your cheek.

“Do you want me to walk you out?” He shakes his head, waving you off.

“Put your groceries away, princess. I’ll see you tomorrow.” he says, giving you a wink as he opens your front door, letting his eyes travel down your figure once more before he closes the door. 

You let out a sigh, turning to put your groceries away, glad your roommate isn’t here to witness this. She’s had enough fun teasing you about how nervous you get around him, and you really don’t want her to see it in person.

A few nights later, you’re sitting on the couch with your roommate, half watching a reality show she has on, when you get a text.

Evan: Wanna go for a drive?

You smile at your screen, replying to him quickly before you get up and go to your room to change. You put on a hoodie and some jean shorts, then go back into the living room, trying to fight the smile making its way onto your face as he replies.

Evan: I’ll be there in 15, princess.

“Where you going so late?” your roommate teases as she tears her eyes from the screen to look at you with a smirk. She already knows exactly who you’re going out with; she knows that look on your face.

“I’m going for a drive with Evan.” you say sheepishly, sitting back down in your spot as you wait for him, your eyes making their way to the tv. She raises a brow, her smirk widening. 

“Right, a drive. Okay.” she trails off, looking back over at the tv, the smirk not dropping from her face. Your eyes widen slightly at her words, and you snap your head over to face her. She laughs, seeing you out of the corner of her eye, and then turns to face you again as she rolls her eyes.

“It’s almost 10pm, you think he just means a drive?” she asks with a small laugh. You groan, tilting your head back against the couch, closing your eyes. You hadn’t even thought about that.

“You think he means a drive?” you ask, keeping your head tilted back against the couch. You feel your stomach fill with nerves again. She shrugs, and can’t help but laugh at how much you’re trying to avoid anything more than kissing Evan.

“Why don’t you just get it over with? It’s not like he’ll care.” You know she’s right, but everytime tensions rise, you start moving and speaking before you have time to think.

“I’m serious. It won’t be that bad. It’s not like he’s some random guy.” She tries to calm your nerves, and it helps a little. You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. She’s right, you think, you do know him. You’re filled with a burst of courage, thinking that maybe it would be best if you just got it over with. 

You’re torn from your thoughts when your phone vibrates, signaling that he’s here. You quickly make your way out the door and down to his jeep, groaning as you hear your roommate wish you luck before you close the door to your apartment.

You get into his jeep, greeting him with a smile. His eyes trail down your body, taking in your bare legs as he greets you. He starts driving once you’re settled, noticing that you’re fidgeting with your fingers, and reaches over to put a hand on your thigh. You look down at his hand, his thumb tracing along your thigh helping to calm your nerves a little bit.

“You’re gorgeous.” he says after a moment, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye, taking in how the streetlights illuminate your face. You fight back a smile, looking out your window.

“Where are we going?” you reply, trying to ignore the way your face is heating up. He shrugs, keeping his hand on your thigh as he keeps driving.

“Just wanted to see you. Thought we’d drive around.” You can’t help the smile that erupts on your face, replying with a soft “okay.”

He keeps driving further from the city, and you start to see less street lights and more trees, but he keeps going.

“Are you going to kill me?” you tease softly, turning to look over at him with a smile.

“You caught me. You’re the perfect target. I barely had to do anything to lure you out here.” he replies in the same tone, grabbing your hand and raising it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand gently.

“I won’t go down without a fight.” you tell him seriously, fighting back a smile as you turn in your seat to face him. He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, princess.” he tells you, winking at you quickly as he takes his eyes off the road for a second.

After a few more minutes, he pulls off onto a dirt road, driving for a minute until you come to a clearing. He turns off the car and looks over at you with a smile.

“So you are gonna kill me.” you tease, meeting his gaze. He shakes his head, chuckling.

“Come on, princess.” he tells you, getting out and quickly making his way around to your side and opening the door for you. He leads you to the front of the jeep and leans back onto the front bumper, pulling you between his legs and making you lean back against him, your back pressed against his chest. 

“What are we doing here?” you whisper, as if speaking any louder would disturb the calm night air surrounding you. He puts a finger under your chin and raises your gaze up to the sky, a soft gasp escaping your throat as you see the stars in the sky.

“You like it?” he asks you softly, his head also tilted up to take in the night sky. You nod, biting your lip as butterflies fill your stomach. You can’t believe this. You would’ve never guessed he would do something like this.

“My mom used to take me outside at night to see the stars when I couldn’t sleep.” you whisper, leaning your head back against his shoulder. He hums softly, smiling at your story.

“Do you know the stories about the constellations?” You turn your head to look back at him over your shoulder, your brows furrowed slightly.

“You know stories about the constellations?” you ask in slight disbelief. You already didn’t expect him to do this, and you really didn’t expect him to know the stories. He smiles at you, nodding.

“I got curious. Googled them one night.” he says sheepishly, and your smile widens. 

“You’re full of surprises, Buckley.” you tease, turning your head to look up at the sky again, resting your head back on his shoulder. He chuckles, humming softly.

“Well, you know Perseus? He killed Medusa, and saved Andromeda from a sea serpent with Medusa’s head?” You nod, humming softly. “Well, the Gods were so impressed by his accomplishments, they immortalized him in the stars. You see him up there?” He tries to describe it to you as he points in its direction, and you nod along with him, a big smile on your face. 

“Okay, and there’s two constellations called Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. Zeus fell in love with one of Artemis’ nymphs named Callisto. He got her pregnant, and when Artemis found out, she made Callisto leave her group. Then, Hera turned Callisto into a bear, because she was jealous. Then, years later, Callisto’s son became a hunter, and came across his mother as a bear. Zeus saw this, and intervened, placing them both in the sky as bears. Right up there.” he points up towards them, and you nod softly.

After a few more stories, you then lean away from him and turn to look at him over your shoulder again.

“You sure do know a lot.” you tease softly, a large smile across your face. You’re impressed. You didn’t think he’d know much about myths, let alone how they relate to the stars. He feels his face flush at your compliment, and he looks down for a moment. 

“Just google.” he murmurs before looking back up at you.

“My mom never told me about the stories.” you whisper, eyes trailing inspecting his face, taking in his features.

“Are you close with your mom?” he asks softly, squeezing your hips softly. You shrug, your smile fading slightly for a moment.

“I used to be. I’m not as close with her anymore. We never really see eye to eye, and she can’t hide her emotions when I do something with my life that she doesn’t want me to do. But, she’s still my mom.” He nods, studying your face as you explain, trying to learn more about your relationship with your mother than the vague answer you’re giving  him. “Are you close with your parents?” 

“Not really. I left as soon as I could. They were there, but, they were never really there.” You give him a sad smile as you nod. 

“I’m sorry.” you whisper, leaning in and giving him a soft kiss. He hums softly, kissing you back, putting a hand on your cheek.

“They’re good people. They’re just not good parents.” You nod, frowning slightly. You can’t believe that his parents barely have anything to do with him. You think he’s the best man you’ve ever met, and you can’t help the frustration flowing through you as you take in that they don’t see him the way you do.

“I think they’re missing out.” you tell him after a moment, your eyes still scanning his face. He can feel his heart swelling as your words hit his ears. He’s never thought of himself that way. He leans in again, meeting your lips in the most tender, dizzying kiss you think you’ve ever had. You turn in his arms, standing between his legs to face him once you break the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and hug his head to your chest.

He melts into your touch, a soft sound of happiness escaping his throat. He wraps his arms around your thick waist, nuzzling against your chest, which makes you laugh softly.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” you whisper after a few moments, and you feel him lean his head away from your chest and look up at you with a smile.

“Thanks for coming with me.” he replies in the same tone. “But, I should get you home. You have class in the morning.” he says a bit louder. His hands slide down to your hips and he guides you back a step or two before he stands up, towering over you. He leads you over to the passenger side and helps you in, then makes his way back over to the drivers side and turns the jeep around to head back to your apartment.

It’s silent almost the whole way back to your place as you both enjoy each other’s company. His hand has found its way back to your thigh, and the cool breeze coming in from the rolled down windows is helping cool down your warm skin. You feel so relaxed in his presence that you can feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and you spend most of the drive trying to keep your eyes open.

Once he pulls up in front of your building, he puts the car in park and looks over at you. His eyes soften as he takes in the way you’re fighting to keep your eyes open, and he feels a little bad for keeping you out so late, but he loves how adorable you look in your sleepy state.

“Come here.” he whispers after a moment, reaching out to place a hand on the back of your neck and pulling you towards him. You lips meet his over the center console, and one of your hands comes up to grab his wrist. He pulls back with a big grin on his face, seeing how your face has lit up by his actions.

“Go get some sleep, princess.” he says, his voice just above a whisper. You nod, turning and opening the door to get out of the jeep. Once you jump down, you turn to face him again.

“Text me when you get home.” you whisper, almost as a question, but he knows you mean it. He nods, his smile growing at the thought of you wanting him to get home safe.

“I promise. Now, go.” he tells you sternly. You nod, shutting the door and waving at him before you turn and walk inside, feeling his eyes on you until you disappear into the building. 

As you slowly walk inside, you can’t help but be a little disappointed. You had finally become okay with wanting more with him, but he really had just meant a drive. Nevertheless, you enjoyed spending time with him, and this is definitely something you never thought a man would actually do for you. You make your way up to your floor with a dazed smile on your face, glad to see that your roommate has already gone to bed once you make your way inside your apartment.

You fall asleep quickly once you get into bed, your thoughts on Evan, and how hard you’re starting to fall for him. You have a quick thought about what exactly you are, as you haven’t exactly had the talk with him yet, but you push it aside quickly. You’re happy with where you are right now, anyway. You’re definitely not seeing anyone else, and if this is how he treats women he’s not even dating, you think you’re okay with that, although you want more than anything to be with him for real.

next chapter

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @minsugafour @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @sarahsmi13s @relatednative @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @sporadicmakerwerewolf @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @buckandeddiesverison @love-kha1 @starbyun92939798 @officiallyalbino @girl-of-multi-fandoms @wanniiieeee @persesphonestears @dreams-encapsulated-in-glamour @heartmix @theoramamtolo (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in searches or i can’t tag you!)

[perfectsunlight]

[21] ALL THESE YEARS

warnings: estranged familiarity, reunion discomfort, mentions of absent parenting

when jieun said she couldn’t make it to paris because she got sick, ivory felt as if she was going to explode. now, with her grandmother out of the picture, she was going to be alone with her mother for the first time in her life. the thought made her stomach churn.

the idol wasn’t sure how to feel either. the idea of spending time alone with jane was something she had longed for, but now that it was actually happening, she felt unprepared. 

jennie’s home was more of a showpiece, not the kind of place where she imagined raising a child.

as she walked up the driveway, ivory clutched her suitcase tightly, willing herself not to throw up from the nausea. the house loomed ahead, its sleek modernity a stark contrast to the cozy, lived-in comfort of her grandmother’s home. she could see the large windows, the clean lines, and the intimidating scale of the place. it was beautiful but cold, and it made jane feel even more out of place.

when she reached the front door, she hesitated for a moment before ringing the bell. the sound echoed through the empty space, magnifying her sense of isolation. after a few moments, jennie appeared, her face lighting up with a forced smile as she opened the door.

“hi, valentine,” jennie smiled, her voice tinged with nervousness. she had practiced that greeting for almost an hour beforehand. “come on in. i hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding the place.”

the younger girl managed a weak smile, her throat tight. “it was fine,” she said, stepping inside and dragging her suitcase with her. she glanced around at the immaculate interior, feeling a sense of discomfort. 

everything was so pristine, so perfectly arranged, and she felt like an intruder in this seemingly perfect world that her mother had built for herself.

the blackpink idol watched her daughter with a mixture of concern and helplessness. she had hoped for a smoother transition, but the anxiety written on jane’s face was obvious to her, even if her daughter didn’t know it.

after all, she was still her mother, and jennie could see the strain in jane’s posture and the uncertainty in her eyes.

“let me help you with your things,” the older woman offered, moving to grab the suitcase’s handle. “thank you,” jane replied softly, minding her manners and trying to steady her trembling hands. she followed jennie down the hallway, the silence between them heavy and almost oppressive. the house felt enormous, every room more intimidating than the last. 

it was clear that jennie had never intended for jane to come live with her here, and the reality of that unspoken truth was becoming increasingly apparent.

the atmosphere was thick with the awkwardness of two people who knew they were supposed to be close, but didn’t quite know how to be. it was spacious, tastefully decorated, and almost painfully neat—all those possible due to her absence.

there was no way the house would have been this clean if she had grown up here.

as they walked through her mother’s immaculate home, the silence between them grew heavier with each step. the stark contrast between this cold, polished space and the cozy, lived-in warmth of her grandmother’s house made jane feel even more out of place. 

she couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t belong here.

jennie, on the other hand, was painfully aware of the tension hanging between them. she glanced at jane, hoping to catch some sign that her daughter was okay, but jane’s face was a blank slate, betraying nothing of what she might be feeling. 

the distance between them felt almost insurmountable. thankfully, someone special was waiting for ivory just around the corner.

the little pomeranian bounded towards jennie, his tiny legs moving with enthusiastic energy. despite the chaos of the day, kuma’s presence was a welcome burst of normalcy. he bolted past his owner and ran straight to the younger version of her.

kuma barked excitedly, his tail wagging furiously as he reached ivory. she crouched down, arms open, and kuma leaped into her embrace, his fur soft and warm against her skin. the familiar smell of him, mixed with the faint trace of his shampoo, almost brought tears to her eyes.

“kuma!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. she hugged him tightly, her earlier nausea momentarily forgotten. kuma licked her face, his little paws resting on her shoulders as if he understood just how much she needed him.

jennie couldn’t help but smile softly at the scene. she always remembered how much of a fit jane threw the day kuma left. the separation had been tough on both of them, and it had taken a considerable amount of time for both of them to re-adjust. seeing her daughter now, hugging kuma with such relief, reminded the woman of just how much ivory had missed him.

“kuma can stay with you in your room,” the blackpink idol suggested as she motioned with her hands towards the hallway. she led the way, her footsteps soft on the polished floor.

young cat-like eyes brightened at the offer. kuma trotted eagerly beside them, his tail wagging with renewed enthusiasm. jennie could see how much the little dog meant to her daughter, and she was relieved to see a genuine smile on ivory’s face for the first time since they arrived.

as they reached the room, jennie pushed open the door, revealing a space that was carefully decorated but had a slightly impersonal feel. the walls were painted a gentle shade of ivory, and the room was furnished with a large, plush bed and a few framed prints of abstract art. it was clear that jennie had tried to make it comfortable, but it still lacked the personal touches that would make it feel like home.

“this is your room,” jennie said, stepping inside and setting down the suitcase she had been pushing. “i know it’s a bit different from what you’re used to, but i hope it’s comfortable enough.”

jane took in the room with a hesitant smile. she set kuma down on the bed, and he immediately jumped up and started sniffing around. the young girl sat beside him, her nerves beginning to ease as she watched kuma settle in.

“it’s nice,” ivory said quietly, glancing up at jennie. “thank you.”

jennie hovered in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. “if you need anything, i’m just down the hall,” she pointed with her thumb in the direction of her bedroom, trying to sound reassuring. but the words felt hollow, even to her. “we could—um, we could order something for dinner later if you’re hungry.”

“okay,” jane replied, her voice barely above a whisper. she didn’t know how to act around her mother, how to fill the silence that stretched between them. “that’s fine.”

“i’ll, uh, let you settle in,” jennie said, forcing a smile before retreating down the hall. she mentally cursed herself for still not knowing how to make things less awkward. her own daughter was 18 years old and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still failing at the one thing she had always wanted to get right—being a mother.

jane sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at her hands. the room was beautiful, but it didn’t feel like hers. it felt like a space designed for someone else, someone who belonged in jennie’s world. maybe a manager or a stylist. she sighed, wishing her grandmother were here to bridge the gap, to make everything feel a little less foreign.

a few hours passed in uncomfortable isolation. jane stayed in her room, pretending to unpack her things, while jennie busied herself in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone, searching for takeout options, and making sure there wasn’t even a speck of dust to be seen. every so often, she would glance down the hall, wondering if she should go check on jane, but the thought of their stilted conversations made her hesitate.

finally, jennie mustered the courage to knock on jane’s door. “dinner’s here,” she called out, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “i got us some sushi. i wasn’t sure what you liked, so i got a little bit of everything.”

jane nodded, trying to ignore her heart sinking at the thought of another awkward meal. the pair sat across from each other at the dining table, the beautifully arranged sushi laid out between them. the atmosphere was painfully strained as they picked at their food, both searching for something to say but coming up empty.

“so, are you excited about paris?” jennie asked, trying to break the silence. it was a safe topic, something neutral, but even that felt forced. “yeah, i guess,” ivory replied, not quite meeting her mother’s eyes. she wanted to be excited, but the discomfort of the situation was overshadowing everything else. “i’ve never been before.”

“you’ll love it,” jennie smiled, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. “it’s beautiful, and there’s so much to see and do. i’ll make sure you have a great time.”

jane nodded, but the words didn’t have the desired effect. instead, they only highlighted how out of sync they were and how this trip felt more like a chore. on top of that, it’s not like they were going to spend any time together. 

kuma sat underneath ivory’s chair as he looked up at her with curious, sympathetic eyes. it was almost as if he could sense the discomfort. jane absentmindedly scratched his head, drawing a little solace from his company.

as they continued eating in a more comfortable silence, jennie glanced at jane, considering her next words carefully. she didn’t want to push too hard or make her daughter uncomfortable, but the thought had been on her mind since they arrived.

“valentine,” jennie started, her voice gentle, “i was thinking, if you’d like, you could change your flight and come with me tomorrow instead of flying out the day after. we could fly out together?”

jane looked up, surprised by the suggestion. the idea of spending even more time alone with her mother was daunting, but at the same time, there was a part of her that wanted to try. maybe flying together would help ease some of the tension, give them more time to figure things out.

“oh,” ivory answered gently, biting her lip as she considered it. “i don’t want to mess up your plans.”

“you wouldn’t be messing up anything,” her mother reassured her quickly. “i think it might be nice. i’ve always wanted to go to paris together and now we can.” 

ivory hesitated, her brow furrowing as she thought about the reality of the situation. “but how are we going to do this?” she asked cautiously. “i mean, no one knows about us.” 

the older woman’s smile faltered slightly as the weight of her daughter’s words sank in. it was true—her relationship with ivory had always been kept under wraps, a secret known only to jieun and teddy. having her daughter by her side in the eye of the public seemed daunting, but there was something about this moment that made jennie feel like it was worth the risk.

“you’re right,” jennie admitted softly. “it could be complicated. but maybe it’s time we stop hiding. i don’t want us to keep pretending like we’re not a family.”

the look on jane’s face was indescribable. the color drained from her soft cheeks, leaving her looking pale. her hands clenched slightly in her lap, knuckles turning ivory. she shook her head, eyes wide with alarm. 

“no,” she said firmly, her voice soft but resolute. her eyes met her mother’s before she continued speaking. “we can’t do that.”

jennie blinked, taken aback by the intensity of her daughter’s reaction. “i mean it,” ivory added, her words spilling out in a rush. “i don’t want the world to know about me. it’s too much. they’ll tear me apart. they’ll tear you apart.”

her mother opened her mouth to respond, but jane kept going, her voice growing more serious with each word. “i’ve seen how they treat you, how they talk about you. the rumors, the pressure—everything. if they knew about me, it would just make things worse for you. i don’t want to be the reason your life gets even harder.”

jennie felt a knot form in her chest. she hadn’t fully considered how overwhelming the public reaction might be for ivory, how cruel the spotlight could be. it was one thing for her to face the scrutiny, but for her daughter to be thrown into that same world—it wasn’t something she could force on her.

“i’m sorry,” ivory whispered, her eyes downcast. “i just can’t do it.” her mother reached across the table, gently squeezing her daughter’s hand. “you don’t have to be sorry,” she said softly. “i didn’t mean to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

jane nodded, her shoulders sagging in relief, but the tension still lingered in the air between them. the idea of stepping into the public eye and finally being labeled as “jennie kim’s daughter” was too terrifying to even consider. 

she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be ready for that.

but she was still a daughter, and she wanted to be around her mother. 

“i’ll change the flight, but i won’t go in with you. i’ll go in after.” ivory said softly, her voice laced with a quiet determination. she looked up at her mother, trying to gauge her reaction, hoping that her mother would understand.

jennie’s heart ached, but she nodded slowly. “okay,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “whatever makes you comfortable.” her daughter gave a small smile, relieved that her mother wasn’t pushing the issue. 

the older woman sighed softly as ivory said goodnight and left to get ready for bed, a mixture of relief and sadness swirling within her. she had hoped for a different outcome, but she knew this was the best compromise for now. as much as she longed to openly share her life with ivory, to show the world her daughter and the pride she felt in her, she also understood her fears.

the yg idol sat on the couch in the dim light, the soft glow of the nearby lamp casting a warm circle around her. jennie held the photo album in her lap, her fingers tracing the edges of the worn cover as she hesitated before opening it. it had been a long time since she had allowed herself to look through these photos, each one a fragment of a life she had missed out on.

with a deep breath, jennie slowly opened the album. the first photo she saw was of ivory as a newborn, swaddled tightly in a soft pink blanket. her tiny face was barely visible, just a glimpse of her round cheeks and button nose. jennie remembered that day vividly—how small and fragile ivory had felt in her arms, how she had promised herself that she would protect her daughter no matter what. 

but that promise had been easier said than done.

she turned the page, revealing a series of photos from ivory’s first birthday. ivory was sitting in a high chair, her face covered in frosting as she reached for the cake in front of her. her eyes were wide with excitement, her mouth open in a toothless grin. jennie had been there that day, but she had left early for a performance, missing the rest of the celebration. seeing the joy on ivory’s face in those photos made jennie’s chest tighten with regret.

the next set of photos showed ivory taking her first steps, her tiny legs unsteady as she wobbled toward the camera. jieun had been the one to capture that moment, her voice encouraging ivory in the background of the video that accompanied the photos. as usual, she hadn’t been there; she had been on tour, performing on the other side of the world. she had watched the video later, tears in her eyes, knowing she could never get that moment back.

even now, it still brings her great disappointment knowing she couldn’t be there.

as the idol continued to flip through the album, each photo seemed to teleport her back to those earlier times. there was a picture of jane on her first day of school, clutching a bright pink backpack that was almost as big as she was. her smile was shy, a mix of excitement and nervousness, and jennie remembered feeling a pang of guilt when jieun had sent her the photo. she had wanted to be there, to walk her to her classroom, but her schedule had kept her away once again.

another photo showed ivory dressed as a black cat for halloween, her face painted with a smile as she held a pumpkin-shaped bucket full of candy. jennie had been at a photoshoot that night, once again missing out on the chance to see her daughter’s costume in person. 

the album was bittersweet, a reminder of how many moments she had sacrificed for her career.

they held memories of holidays spent apart, birthdays celebrated without her, and milestones that jennie had only experienced through photos and videos. there was a photo of ivory with jieun, the two of them standing in front of a christmas tree, their faces lit up with laughter. jennie had sent gifts that year, but she hadn’t been there to see ivory’s face light up as she opened them.

there were many years afterward where jane didn’t even open anything she sent her at all.

finally, jennie reached the last photo in the album. it was one she had taken herself, a rare moment where she had been there, present and in the moment. ivory was about six years old, standing on a beach with the ocean behind her. her dark hair was windblown, and she was laughing, her arms outstretched as if she were trying to catch the waves. jennie had taken that photo during a brief break from her tour, a few stolen days where they had escaped to the coast. 

it was one of her favorite memories, but even then, the time had been too short.

jennie closed the album, her heart heavy with the weight of all the memories it held. she wished she could go back, that she could have been there for all the moments she had missed. but as she sat there in the quiet darkness, she once again was reminded that she couldn’t change the past. 

all she could do now was try to make the future better, to be the mother that ivory needed her to be, even if it meant continuing to hide her daughter from the world.

exhausted by the emotions that the memories had stirred up, jennie leaned back against the couch, her eyes growing heavy. she didn’t even notice when sleep finally claimed her, the photo album still resting on her lap, a silent testament to the years that had slipped through her fingers.

and she also failed to notice the younger version of herself, now all grown up, quietly padding into the living room. ivory had been restless, unable to sleep as the weight of everything settled over her.

she knew why her mother had missed so much—jennie was an idol, a superstar with the world at her feet. but that knowledge didn’t make it hurt any less. it didn’t make up for the nights she had cried herself to sleep, wishing her mother was there to tuck her in. 

it didn’t make up for the times she had needed her mother’s guidance and had only found jieun’s comforting presence instead.

but as her cat-like eyes landed on the album, jane couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt she had never acknowledged before. it was the same feeling that had plagued her sleep this very night. it was impossible to ignore now.

was she a bad daughter for resenting her mother all these years?

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST ⸺ ✶ @silantryoo @imahallucination11 @jisooftme @yerimbrit @linnnsworld @edeivveiss @urmom2314 @aespasoooool @mygfiswonyoung @yeetaberry127 @@sixflame438 @yourmyst4r @shegoswhoree @saysirhc @hwm1hyun @literallybipanic @yejiscene @gayforalll @yvsvrn @bunnywonyo @karifrogs @thefckghost @yoontoonwhs @pandafuriosa60 @somedaydream @hotluvlet @pagedpick7 @lizseos @cy8erpunkz @keiji-jin @lizseos @xszn @awkwardtoafault @hellokiraa @chicopichu @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite @lesbian4themis @literallybipanic @tjdc25 @st4r4ngel @jihyos-hoe @jxmis

CLOSED.

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 2

Hello! My elbow was doing better this morning and then I took a nap and hurt it again somehow...(head desk) so I'm still putting out my backlog without being able to build up more because of it, hopefully it gets better before I run out of backlog because that would be embarrassing.

Here we get some backstory as Eddie strolls back into Steve's life.

Pt 1

****

When Robin came into open the store she found Steve wearing the clothes he had been wearing the night before. None of the bread dough was rising, none of the cookies were baking having not even been made, the cakes were out on the cooling racks instead in the freezer to chill enough to have frosting put on them.

He was curled up next to their large stand mixer dubbed the Beast, cradling his sides like he was trying to hold in his innards.

“Steve...” she called out gently.

Steve looked up at her and her heart broke. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks tear-stained and blotchy. Snot ran down his nose and pooled on his upper lip.

She sighed and then turned around. She hunted around for a marker and a piece of paper. She wrote that they were closed for the day and hung it up outside the front door. She locked it behind her and went to go sit down next her best friend.

Steve laid his head on her shoulder and sighed.

“Eddie’s getting married.”

Robin had to force herself from jerking her head around to look at him because he needed her support more than he needed her ire in that moment.

“Who do I have to kill?” she muttered darkly, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair soothingly.

Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “She’s this hot shot legal assistant from Barbados. Like I didn’t even know that was a country until I looked it up. It’s in the Caribbean. Did you know that?”

“I did.”

Robin blinked for a minute. “Wait...she?”

Steve just shrugged. “People change, Robs. Don’t make it a thing.”

She bit her lip and worried it between her teeth. Because fucking hell she wanted to make a big deal out of it. Someone should make a big deal out of it.

“Nancy’s back in town visiting her family,” she said instead. “Holly’s graduating next week.”

Steve threw his arms in the air. “Great! I’m being invaded by my ex. Just put me out of my misery now, Robs. I don’t think I can take it.”

Robin smacked his arms. “No. There will be no killing of the Steve. If anyone wants to make it your problem, then they’re going to have a problem with me, got it?”

“Thanks, Robbie,” he murmured, running his fingers through his hair. “Like the way he went about it was such complete shit. Like how dare he think that a simple annulment is going to get him off abandoning me for fame and fortune and then not coming back when it fell through?”

Robin’s head did whip around that time. “He fucking did what?”

Steve sighed and waved at the papers in the trash. She got up and picked them up. She read through them with increasing ire. Her hands started to shake and her face burned with indignation.

“Screw killing her,” she hissed. “I’m going to kill him. Just as soon as I find his scrawny ass. How dare he?”

He huffed out a bitter laugh. “I hunted down his number and called him out on it. I told him if he was so desperate to be free of me he had to tell me to my face.”

“So what you’re telling me...” Robin said slowly, “is that your not just being invaded by one ex, but most likely two exes. And like your two biggest heartbreaks ever?”

Steve got to his feet and lopped over to her. “That about sums it up, yeah. I know you closed the store, but I still have to make Mrs. Laurence’s cake. She’s supposed to pick it up at 3pm.”

She patted him on the shoulder and tossed away the papers. “Let’s make this cake. We can’t disappoint Mrs. Laurence.”

Steve and Robin went through and tossed everything that couldn’t be salvaged. Steve pulled the two chocolate sheet cakes out of the freezer and set them on the decorating table. He went into the walk-in freezer and got out the two large tubs of frosting; one chocolate buttercream and the other vanilla buttercream.

Robin pulled out the food dyes and began mixing the colors they would need for the cake. Steve went and grabbed one final thing from the fridge before closing the door. A raspberry filling.

He got to work starting with a crumb coating and then took the purple colored frosting from Robin and began covering the whole cake. Once it was completely covered he started adding design elements and darker purple flowers.

Then he passed it over to Robin who wrote “Happy 50th Anniversary” on the top.

All in all it had taken about an hour. Then he called up Mrs. Laurence and told her that Robin would be delivering the cake today because the shop was closed. He didn’t explain why and she didn’t ask. Mostly she was just grateful that it was going to be delivered.

Then Steve got to work preparing for tomorrow. Things like cookies and pastries that could stay in the fridge over night were made first. Then he started on the thing he was most famous for: his brownies.

He had four kinds, a triple chocolate that was dark chocolate brownie with milk chocolate frosting and chunks. The second one was a peanut butter marble with fudge drizzled over it and topped with chopped peanuts. The third was a cheesecake and caramel that was super popular with the high school kids. But the most famous, the one every raved about was the mint brownie. It had mint in the brownie itself, mint frosting, and fudge and crumbled brownie bits covering the top.

The Monster as it was fondly called by Steve’s customers could turn even the most fervent of mint haters over to the dark side, it was that good.

Finally everything was ready for tomorrow.

When Robin came back from delivering the cake, she sat down at the decorating table and leaned on her elbows, clasping her hands together.

“When are you going to get some people into help you?” she asked gently. “You know I won’t be here forever and you can’t keep doing it on your own.”

Steve who had just finished cleaning everything up looked up at her with his big puppy dog eyes. “You’re going to leave me?” he asked with a pout.

She slapped at his arm. “You know that I’m heading to college in the fall, just as soon as I pick which one I’m going to. You’ll have all summer to train a couple of people to take my place.”

He sighed. “I know. I’ll think about it after I deal with my exes this week.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I also get to interview these new peeps and make sure they’re good enough.”

“Deal!” he said and they shook hands.

****

Because they were closed the day before Steve had a line of customers lining up on the sidewalk when he turned the closed sign to read “OPEN”.

Robin and he got to work helping all the customers.

It was fine up until Mrs. O’Donnell came in absolutely bitching about how she always gets her bread on Wednesdays and he knows that he should have been open for her. Especially since Mrs. Laurence got her cake, so Steve should have been able to open for her to get her bread.

She had completely bottlenecked the whole line. Robin was working as hard as she could to keep up with demand on her side of the counter, but Steve could see she was starting to falter.

“Enough!” Steve barked and the whole shop went silent. “I had a personal matter come up that couldn’t have been avoided and Mrs. Laurence had paid for her cake well in advance which is why she still got it. And unless you don’t want to get your precious bread ever again, because I have banned you, then you better stop harassing me, get your damn bread, and get the fuck out of my store.”

Mrs. O’Donnell let out a small “eep!” before paying for her bread and leaving quickly. There was a small amount of clapping and Steve grinned.

“Next, please,” he said and the next customer came up.

Things went smoother after that.

Two hours later, the rush had ended and Robin and Steve worked on restocking the shelves.

“You always were a bitch, Steve,” a voice said from the corner on the shop were there were a couple of tables people could use to eat their tasty delights. “But watching you take down that bitch O’Donnell was like poetry in motion.”

Steve stiffened, hands clenching on the tray of brownies he was carrying. He slowly turned around and sure enough in all his black clothes, leather jacket, and many chained glory was Eddie Munson.

He gritted his teeth and slid the tray home in the display case. He pulled the towel off his shoulder and wiped off his hands. “Nice to see you finally got tired of running.”

Eddie got to his feet and moved to step toward the counter when a little bell went off announcing a customer.

In walked this soft round woman with a bright smile. She didn’t even notice Eddie standing there, she just walked right up to Steve.

“Mrs. Laurence!” Steve greeted warmly. “How was the cake yesterday?”

Mrs. Laurence smiled. “It was lovely as always, dear. Nothing but rave reviews from all.”

He smiled at her fondly. “I’m glad. So what can I get you today?”

She tapped her finger on her lips as scanned over the case. “I’ll take a half dozen raspberry truffles and a monster please.”

Steve’s smile turned into a grin. “You’re just in time, I just finished a fresh batch of monsters just before you came in.”

“Lucky me indeed,” she said with a giggle. “They are so much better fresh. Not like your peanut butter ones. They taste better after a day or two to really set the peanut butter.”

Steve laughed as he packed her order. “I always feel like the opposite, give the brownie bites on top time to get chewy and they’re...” he did the chef’s kiss. “But I like how gooey the fresh peanut butter ones are fresh out of the oven.”

Mrs. Laurence laughed too. “Agree to disagree, dear.” She paid and turned around.

“Oh my goodness!” she huffed. “I didn’t even see you there, you must think me rude just jumping the line like that.”

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t think you’ve got a rude bone in your body. Jeffy takes after you that way.”

She tilted her head. “Eddie?”

Eddie nodded mutely, lips pressed into a grim line. She swept him up in a hug.

“My Jeff didn’t say anything about you coming to town,” she admonished her youngest child.

Eddie just shook his head. “It was a last minute decision. Just something I have to take care of.”

She looked back at Steve who had his head tucked to his chin and then back to him. She nodded sagely. “I see. Do take care of yourself, Eddie.”

She wave back at Steve. “Bye, dear. Thank you so much again for the cake yesterday.”

“Of course, Mrs. Laurence, you have a good day,” Steve said softly.

Eddie finally made it to the counter.

“I forget she’s Jeff’s mom,” Steve muttered as he wiped down an already clean counter.

Eddie cleared his throat. “Yeah. Like I forgot he was in town for his parent’s wedding anniversary. I guess time does that to you.”

Steve nodded. “So you’re actually here.”

“So I’m actually here,” he agreed. “But first I want to know what the fuck a monster is?”

Steve’s eyes misted as he pulled out a brownie from the case and set it on a piece of parchment paper.

“It’s called that because it’s big, green, and ugly, but soft and sweet,” he explained like he was reading from a script, refusing to look up at Eddie, “just like the Frankenstein monster from that super old horror movie.”

Eddie looked down at the so-called monstrosity with a wave of affection for the man in front of him. That wasn’t why it was named the monster. The reason it was called that was because that’s what the towns people were calling him before he left for fortune and fame, because he played D&D, like metal music, and was an out and proud gay man. That and the fact that they thought he had killed a bunch of kids with a batch of bad blow.

Which had been bullshit. Considering he had never sold meth or cocaine and didn’t have any on him. So when they tested his hair, his clothes, his uncle’s trailer and couldn’t even find so much a speck of the stuff, let alone the stuff that killed the kids, they let him go.

As far as Eddie was aware they still don’t know who sold them the drugs.

So yeah, Steve made him the brownie when he was at his lowest to tell him how soft and sweet he was despite being called a monster.

Eddie opened his wallet and got out the cash for the brownie and handed it to Steve.

Steve went through the motions of getting him his change. Which Eddie immediately put in their little tip jar.

Steve boxed up the brownie and handed Eddie the box.

Eddie pulled out an envelope out of his messenger bag and handed it to Steve.

Steve sighed and pulled them out. He began to look over them over and had a pen in hand, when he looked up to see Eddie moaning around the brownie.

He clicked the pen and shoved it back in his apron. “I better have my lawyer look over this, after all I’m just dumb, right Eddie?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and he choked down the bite of the brownie. Flashing back to their last major fight.

“God!” he screamed. “How can you be this stupid? Those kids are in high school now, they have their own parents, for fuck’s sake. Where is your ambition? This is just bullshit. You aren’t chained here for fuck’s sake.”

Steve’s face shuttered and the mask he only pulled out when his parents were around dropped over his features. Bland, clueless, and absolutely frightening in its uncanny valley.

That’s when Eddie knew he’d fucked up bad. He had said the three things he swore in his wedding vows he’d never say to Steve. That he had no ambition, that he was stupid, and that he was bullshit.

He turned on his heel and never looked back.

Steve smirked as if he knew what was flashing through his mind and walked away, leaving Eddie standing there with hand near his mouth, the expression of shock still on his frozen features.

****

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List:

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

2- @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

3- @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

4- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

6- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

7- @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

8- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @blackpanzy

9- @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras @swimmingbirdrunningrock

10- @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 23

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: what up my slutty butties!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You help Leslie bring out the plates. You set one before Mr. Laufeyson as Leslie puts one down before an empty chair. You can hear your dad muttering at his puzzle. Your boss is unfazed as he smugly sits waiting.

"Offer him something to drink while I get your father," Leslie lowers her voice, turning her back to your guest, "I know you didn't have a mother around but have some common courtesy."

You flinch, injured by her unnecessary remark. Sometimes she says things that sting, just like your father. You suppose that's why they get along so well. She sidesteps you and enters the front room, announcing her presence gaily as she calls your father's name.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you face him sheepishly, "would you like something to drink?"

"I suppose you haven't any cabernet," he snorts. You clamp your lip tightly in humiliation. "I am driving so I suppose it wouldn't matter, you have water, yes? It will suffice."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you answer and spin away, fleeing to the kitchen behind the shield of the simple task.

You take a glass from the cupboard, checking to make sure it's clear and clean, and fill it from the filtered jug in the fridge. You return to the dining room as Leslie helps your father in. He bats her hand off his arm and grunts as he drops into an empty chair across from Mr. Laufeyson. You put the water in front of your boss and peek over at your dad.

"Dad, do you want something--"

"No," he barks as he snatches his fork, poking at the seasoned turnip, "what is this shit?" He sniffs, "smells like garbage."

You sit and balance at the edge of your chair, not paying any mind to the food before you.

"Charlies, don't be rude," Leslie claims a seat of her own, "Loki's mother was so kind to send this over to us."

"I don't know her," your father growls.

"Can't complain for free food, can we?" Leslie girds gently and sends a smile to Laufeyson, "it's been a tough day for him. The humidity really bothers him."

"Would you be quiet?" Your father snaps, "I can speak for myself and I'm just damn fi--"

Your father breaks out into another storm of coughs. He hits the table and braces it, his fork clattering as he struggles to catch his breath. Mr. Laufeyson sits placidly, picking up his knife and fork, and cutting into the pork loin.

"My, you do sound rather terrible," he says as he pokes a morsel of meat in the air on the tines. 

"He'll be fine, he just needs to catch his breath," Leslie assures.

"Mm, have you thought of an air purifier? It might do this place some good?" Laufeyson suggests with a curl of his lip, biting into the pork.

"Mr. Fucking Fancy Pants," your dad slaps his own chest as he finds his voice, "what do you know? You ain't some doctor walking in here telling me how to breathe."

"I have several degrees so I could claim the title, I suppose," Laufeyson taunts, "I always thought it a bit pompous, however."

"Ah, go off and buy another set of tits," your father snarls.

"You are such a loving father, aren't you?" Laufeyson goads.

"Good enough to know yours never smacked you hard enough," your dad retorts.

Silence. You look at Leslie as she peers between the men, a frigid smile frozen on her face. You bat your lashes as you teeter and grip the table.

Your dad takes his fork again and scoops up a soft chunk of turnip. He puts it in his mouth, making a face as he tastes it then gags and spits it out. It flies across the table onto Laufeyson's plate. Your brows rise as Leslie's expression mirrors your shock.

"Tastes like garbage too. That mother of yours must be just as much a disappointment to your father as you," your dad chortles at his own insult, hacking into another fit.

Mr. Laufeyson sets his fork down. He sighs and slides his plate away. He stares down your father as he sets his back straight.

"As much as you are to your daughter, I'm sure."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you squeak.

"Get--" your father coughs and chokes, fighting to get to his feet, his stomach hitting the table and rattling the dishes, "the fuck--" cough -- "out of my house."

"Is that what you call this place?" Laufeyson remains seated, glancing around derisively.

Leslie gasps, "sir, now you are too much, we welcomed you in--"

"I wasn't aware your job included nursing his bruised ego," Laufeyson shoots in her direction, "don't remind me of etiquette. I brought you all more than the scraps you have in the back of that dingy fridge. Of course, you wouldn't have the taste or sense to know good food."

"I said GET OUT!" Your father hollers so hard he sways, his voice scratching at its peak.

"Dad," you stand up, "Mr. Laufeyson, please, you need to go--"

"Take your own advice," he stands and scoffs in your father's direction.

"Stop, please, he's my dad--"

"Oh yes, I've heard it before," Laufeyson sneers, "and I heard you beg him just the same before he--"

"No!" You exclaim, "no, leave. Now. Please--"

"You needn't convince me further," Mr. Laufeyson strides around the table, "Chuck," he stops next to your father as he puffs, grasping the chair for support, "try not to choke on your own vitriol."

He pats your dad arm, causing him to recoil and fall onto the chair. Leslie rushes over to him as you stand dumbfounded. You hoped the day wouldn't get worse and yet, you can't say you didn't expect it. Even so, it hits you like a car at full speed and knocks the wind out of you. You don't know what to do.

"Have a good night," Mr. Laufeyson says at the door, "however pleasant it could ever be in a rat-infested hole like this." He looks at you, "thank you for this lovely dinner."

He turns and struts out. You shake your head as adrenaline courses through you, burning around your lungs and hammering in your chest. You look over at your father as he continues to cough violently.

"Dad..." you try to go to him.

"Haven't you done enough?" Leslie snaps as she lashes you with a glare. You wince and stumble back.

"I didn't--"

"He's right about you, isn't he?" She snarls, "you're just an ungrateful brat."

"No--"

"Go!" Your father forces through his choking gasp, "you little bitch!"

Your lip trembles as the room spins. You twirl away without a second thought, horrified and humiliated. You run out into the hallway and barrel up the stairs, sobbing by the time you get to the top step. Mr. Laufeyson has ruined everything. Your job, your family, and your entire life.

You thought you had nothing before, how wrong you were.

✨

 You cry yourself to sleep, just like many nights before. Your head swirls with rippled visions of angry eyes and shadowy figures. You drown in the thick unconscious, nearly suffocated with terror as you're paralysed against the virulent nightmares.

You wake only as a crash splinters your sleep. You sit up, heaving for air as you see a dark figure eerily similar to the one in your dreams. You blink until you can, the light of the hallway glowing in the limn your father's portly figure.

He drags out the next drawer from your dresser and dumps it over the pile mounded on the floor. He staggers as he drops the plywood and kicks it aside. He leans on the handle of his oxygen tank as you reach for your lamp.

"Dad? What are you--"

He struggles to reach for the bottle by his feet. He lifts it and wobbles as he untwists the cap. He overturns the bottle of bleach onto the heap of clothes, kicking them around as the stringent chemical spills out. You watch as he ruins the layers of new clothing and cry out as you bounce to the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing!?" You shriek.

"Whore's clothes," he tosses the bottle on top, "you... bring your pimp in here like the slut you are--"

"Dad," you whimper but have no words. He's not so far off after all. You look down at the clothes and the pale stains of the bleach patching across the fabric, "dad, I'm sorry. I tried-- I was only--"

"I don't care," he grits, "I'm done with you. You been..." he takes a deep breath, clasping his chest, "mooching off me for thirty years. You sucked the life outta me--" he gasps again, "look what you done to me," he tugs at the tube that trails down his chest, "this is your fault. You killed me just like you did your mother."

"No, no, no," you touch your cheeks as they burns and your tears fall free, "please, don't say that."

It's another nightmare. It has to be. You're still sleeping. This can't be real.

"Dad," you stand and reach for him, "don't be mad--"

He hits you. Not hard, he can't. He's too weak. You flinch and back away, cowering as you cradle your head. He looks around, his head bobbling and grabs the hardcover book from atop your dresser.

He nears you as you shrink down, stunned into helplessnness. He grips the book with both hands and swings it at you. The first strikes doesn't wake you. It's real. 

He hits you, over and over, the sharp corner jabbing into your cheek and chin, then the side thumping across your shoulder and against your side. He keeps on until he can't.

He drops the book and coughs, bending over as he slips to one knee. You watch him, tears streaming into your hands as you babble like a child. 

"Daddy," you murmur.

"You get out or I'll call... the goddamn... police," he braces the oxygen tank and forces himself up. "This isn't your home no more." He limps and drags the tank to the door, "it never was.”

✨

You don't know what to do. You can barely stop crying long enough to think. The heavy bags weigh down your steps as you wander mindlessly to the corner and stop, the reality of the moment crashing down like thunder.

You drop the duffle bag and sit on it, letting your work bag hit the pavement by your feet. The sun has barely come up as you sit in the dim hue of dawn. Where do you go?

You feel yourself sinking. Your lungs are reading to shrivel and your head is going to cave in. You're lost. You have no home, you have no father, you have nothing... well, you still have a job.

You cry a little longer, until you hear the first sign of life from across the street. You get up as a man comes of a house. He doesn't notice you as you hitch up your work bag and grab the duffle from the sidewalk. You just need somewhere for a night or two. Let dad cool off and you'll apologise. It will be okay.

You walk down to the main road and catch the first bus. You have no direction, no destination. You get off as you see the marquee of the Holiday Inn. You've never stayed in a hotel, hopefully they have room for you. It seems like no one does.

You shuffle inside, tired and worn out. There's a woman behind the front desk, sitting on a chair so you can only see the top of your head. You hobble over under the weigh of your bags and wait for her to notice you. When she doesn't, you tap the bell on the counter.

"Eh?" She stands up, almost tipping over, "sorry," she yawns, "didn't hear you come in."

"Mm," you hum and chew your lips, "that's okay. Erm..."

"Do you have a reservation? Bit early... or late, to be checking in."

"No, uh, I don't," you lower your eyes, "do you have anything available?"

"Sure we do," she answers chipperly. You look at her name tag; Mindy. "I got a few singles clean and ready."

"Okay, that's good," you answer, "how much?"

"Hundred and twenty for tonight. Credit on file or three hundred cash deposit."

"Oh," you try not show your surprise, "okay, I er, think I have enough but I don't have a credit card."

"Now worries, there's an ATM," she points across the lobby.

"Thank, can I leave my bags here for a second?"

"Sure, sweetie," she turns to the computer and clicks around.

You cross to the machine and dig out your debit card. You slide it into the slot and push the firm metal buttons. Your stomach plummets as you punch in the custom amount for withdrawal. You were saving that for the mortgage and Leslie. You hit Yes and the machine whirs, spitting out a stack of bills and a receipt.

You return to the counter and hand it over. Mindy asks for your name and phone number. You give her your info, growing more weary by the moment.

"Here are your keys," she hands over a tiny paper folio, "checkout is 11am tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Wifi info is in there, along with information about breakfast. Coffee in the room and a kettle. Oh, and microwave."

You thank her one last time and collect your bags once more. You go to the elevator and check the folio for your room number. You hit floor six and wait for the box to rise. You step off, following the wall plaques to the matching door. It's yours, just for a little bit.

You swipe the card several times before it unlocks, struggling to make it register. You push your duffle inside with your feet and put your work bag beside it as the door shuts on its own. The room is small, the walls are pasted in faded wallpapers and the bed is made with sheets that remind you of another decade.

You put the keys on the table against the wall and drag yourself to the bed. You don't really have any time to nap, you just need to get off your feet for a little.

Your restlessness doesn't let you sit long. You wear some of your old clothes, of the few pieces you salvaged from the ruin. You check yourself in the mirror. You don't bother with the makeup. Mr. Laufeyson will be disappointed either way. Besides, you shouldn't care so much what he thinks. You're just his house manager after all. You're there to do a job.

If only believing it would make it true.

You find a route that goes towards his neighbourhood. It lets you off a few blocks away and you take your time. You almost don't have a choice as your body is achy from your father's attach, new bruises rising tenderly to the surface.

You're early despite the fractured night. As you pass the cafe, you slow and glance through the window. Just one more quiet moment before you face the inevitable.

You push inside and see the same woman as last time. You give the same order as you doubt she even recognises you. She hovers her finger over the touch screen of her till, "we have a special, a rose tea latte, if you're interested."

"Oh?" You scrunch up your lips, you've never been good at saying no. "Sure, I'll try that."

You got the change to pay and frown. You shouldn't be spending what's left on a tea. You should be smarter. Maybe if you were, you wouldn't be such a loser.

You sit and stare at the pink foam. You don't know if you can do this but what other choice do you have? You could just disappear but for how long? You'll run out of money. As hard as it was to get this job, you don't think a new one would be any easier when you have one reference. A reference who you don't expect a shining review from.

You sip carefully. It's delicious. You drop your forehead into your hand as hot tears brim your eyes. You fight to constrain them, nearly quaking with the effort. Your eyes are swollen enough as it is.

You continue to drink, keeping your head down, and finish before you resign yourself to fate. To face Mr. Laufeyson. You can do this, not because you're strong, but because you have to.