#single parents mixer

[the-badger-mole]

AU Bot Plots: All the Single Parents

It was a terrible idea. Zuko asked himself for the thousandth time that evening how he had allowed Haru to talk him into it, but still, he checked to make sure his blazer was on straight and his hair (shoulder length now that he didn't have Mai pushing him to keep it cut) was pulled back neatly into a low ponytail. He'd just spritzed on his cologne when there was a timid knock at his door. He saw it crack open, and Izumi, his precocious seven year old, poke her head through the door.

"You look nice, Daddy!" she said. "But why are you so dressed up to go fishing?" Zuko turned to face his daughter, his brows drawn down in confusion.

"Fishing?" he repeated. "Who told you I was going fishing?"

"Uncle," Izumi said. She clambered onto Zuko's bed and sat crosslegged on the foot. She had a serious look on her face that was much too old for her chubby-cheeked face. "He said that he has been telling you to get back out there for years and that there are lots of fish in the sea."

"Is that so?" Zuko asked, scooping his daughter up into his arms and kissing her cheek. "Well, I'm not going fishing. Uncle was just being silly. And he shouldn't discuss things like that with you."

"He didn't say it to me," Izumi said. "I heard him talking on the phone with Uncle Haru."

"Izzie," Zuko chided gently. "What have I told you about listening on other people's conversations?"

"Not to," Izumi replied, sullenly. "But Uncle talks so loud!" That got a chuckle from Zuko.

"Be nice," he told her. "Uncle's hearing isn't what it used to be. He doesn't always realize when he's being loud."

"My hearing is just fine, Nephew." Iroh rounded the corner from the living room and stared sternly up the stairs at Zuko and Izumi. Zuko and Izumi grinned at each other, then Zuko turned back to Iroh with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Uncle," he said. He set Izumi down and let her run down the stairs into Iroh's waiting arms.

"You're forgiven." Iroh cast a magnanimous gaze up at his nephew. "You should get going. You wouldn't want to be late."

"Wouldn't I?" Zuko groaned. He vowed never to speak with Haru alone ever again. His friend was deceptively convincing.

After saying goodbye to Izumi and Iroh, Zuko made the drive to the cafe bar in midtown where the city's most desperate divorcees were gathering to find their next failed relationship. It was just for practice, Zuko told his reflection in the rearview. It had been three years since his acrimonious divorce, and now that his daughter was in elementary school, Iroh and Haru had convinced him that it was time to get back on the dating scene. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Zuko wasn't exactly dying of loneliness, but he felt the absence of someone to hold and kiss acutely sometimes. And he saw how Izumi looked longingly at mothers with their children occasionally. Mai was a rare presence in Izumi's life. Even rarer since she started dating and eventually gotten engaged to Kei Lo, the man she'd insisted she wasn't having an affair with during the last days of their brief, tumultuous marriage.

Zuko had tried dating over the years, but he'd never met anyone who lasted more than a few months at most. And it had been over a year since his last attempt. This time would be different. He was 34, in therapy, and doing pretty well for himself. Despite the large scar covering a fourth of his face, he knew he was generally considered pretty handsome. He was ready for this. He was open to it. He was...regretting his decision to leave his house.

The crowd in the cafe bar was...grim. First of all, it was mostly men, and even if Zuko had been interested in men, they all looked tired and miserable. He seemed to be among the few who'd made any sort of effort with his appearance. The few women present were a good ten years older than he was, at least. The best looking among them was around 50, if Zuko had to guess. She spotted him and eyed him with interest. She really was very attractive, with a challenging smirk and a dangerous gleam in her eyes. She showed off her voluptuous figure in a curve hugging red cashmere sweater and pencil skirt. Her name tag introduced her as Jun. He wasn't sure if he was ready to take a chance on such a large age gap, but he figured a flirty conversation over couple of glasses of wine would make this evening not a total waste of time, anyway.

He was still contemplating going over to start a conversation, when the door to the bar opened again, and caused the bell drilled into the back to ring. All thoughts of wine with the woman in the red sweater left Zuko's mind, when he saw the newcomer. She was around his age- maybe slightly younger- in a blue dress with grey sneakers. She stopped at the welcome table and filled out a name tag, like the other attendees of the single parents' meet up, and stuck it onto the outside of her white cardigan. Zuko was close enough to read her name. Katara.

Katara seemed to be as reluctant as he was to be there, but she took a breath put on a smile, and stepped into the crowd of suddenly eager looking men. Then Zuko hung back for the next ten minutes, watching as she fended off advances from the men brave enough to approach her. Zuko couldn't blame her, even though this was the point of the evening. The men who approached her were the pushiest, leeriest and in many cases, oldest of the group.

Someone came up beside Zuko and cleared their throat. He found Jun at his side, smirking at him over a glass of whiskey on the rocks. Zuko thought she'd decided to approach him after all, but instead she nodded in Katara's direction.

"You'd have a good shot," she told Zuko. "Why don't you go introduce yourself?"

"Oh...I...I...um," he stammered. That was humiliating. When was the last time he'd gotten tongue tied?

"Articulate," Jun purred, her smirk widening. "Listen, this is a pick up scene for people not looking for someone to introduce to their kids. You and she are clearly still unjaded enough to be looking for romance, so why don't you save you both the time, and rescue her from that guy who's old enough to be her father?" Zuko looked over to where Katara was being chatted up by a wiry man who was still clinging to his receding hairline for his life. She had a wry smirk on her face and seemed to be handling herself just fine. She caught Zuko's eye over the man's shoulder and raised her eyebrow ironically, as if sharing a joke with Zuko. His mouth went dry, and he felt the back of his neck heat up. He turned back to Jun.

"And what if I told you I was hoping to get to talk with you tonight?" he asked. Jun's dark eyes sparkled with mirth and her mouth slid into a slow, sultry smile.

"Oh, honey," she chuckled, brushing his cheek with her knuckles. "You couldn't handle me. And you've been staring at her since she came in. Man up, and go say hi." She passed Zuko the rest of her drink, which he drained in one gulp before he squared his shoulders and made his way across the room to Katara and her suitor.

"Excuse me," Zuko interrupted. "I just wanted to...to come introduce myself." The man who'd been talking to Katara turned to Zuko with a scowl.

"We're in the middle of a conversation," the man snarled. Katara rolled her eyes at him.

"Actually," she said. "I think we're good. Thanks so much for the information, but I'm not that interested in stocks. It was nice meeting you, though, Niko." Katara pushed off of the wall she'd been leaning against and walked off, with Zuko not far behind.

"Are these things always this boring?" Katara asked.

"I wouldn't know," Zuko told her. "My friend talked me into this."

"My sister-in-law threatened to stop fixing my car if I didn't come," Katara sighed. She looked around at the crowd appraisingly. "Maybe I should have just taken my chances. The bus isn't so bad."

"I don't know," Zuko said with a shrug. "I think the night just got interesting." Katara smirked up at Zuko, and his breath caught in his throat at the way her bright blue eyes caught the light.

"I saw that cougar you were chatting up," she said. "I'll bet tonight has been very interesting for you." Zuko's face went beet red, he could tell without a mirror.

"That wasn't...what that was," he tried to explain.

"Really?" Katara shrugged. "Gee, that's too bad. She's pretty hot. But... maybe her loss, my gain?" Katara smiled coyly at Zuko. Agni, was she flirting with him? Zuko cleared his throat.

"We could grab a couple of drinks and see how it goes," Zuko suggested. Katara's smile widened.

"Sounds good to me."

[clueless1995]

american colleges are so scary to me. you guys have to share rooms??? on campus??? absolutely not i would’ve started killing too

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.

୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

let’s get one thing straight. 

not all daddy’s girls are dumb.

on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.

but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.

perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older step sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.

it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.

and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.

“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked. 

it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree. 

you were such a good person. 

turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…

“can i come?” 

with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.” 

“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.

rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.” 

you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).

however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banter the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with. 

instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi  constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried. 

“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?” 

“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips. 

megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him. 

you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t  expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan. 

he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice. 

fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and pinging them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.” 

he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too. 

you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it? 

megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time. 

finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”  

the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.

the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.

your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when your ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress! 

the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi. 

he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head. 

“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.” 

like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be. 

“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.” 

fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?” 

“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.” 

“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.” 

flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips. 

“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly. 

you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.

everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal. 

this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body. 

“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“

he lets go of your wrists.

tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twitch against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree. 

“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.

you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company. 

“quit staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…” 

he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.” 

fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”

it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now. 

“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.” 

his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.

“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?” 

the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.” 

heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly. 

“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze. 

the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.” 

you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more. 

“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?” 

“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.

he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.” 

fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing you to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.” 

he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him. 

because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all. 

“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.” 

the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later. 

pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?” 

he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease. 

they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you. 

“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers. 

he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.

tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.” 

you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.

you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last. 

“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs. 

a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.

“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.

you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless. 

now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today. 

your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself.  “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.” 

his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand. 

“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself. 

this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?” 

you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there. 

“fuck…yes.” 

“and you won’t touch me?” 

“not until i’m satisfied, princess.” 

and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs. 

“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”

he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.

even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.

“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”

megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.

one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.

each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.

“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.

sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.

“s-shut up.” 

“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.” 

he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.

you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows  “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.” 

you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until  a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.

you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs. 

clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much. 

“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?” 

nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.

he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi. 

your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.

there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb. 

“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”

your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.

“f-fuck, g-gumi!” 

fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you.  “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.” 

your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.” 

fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.” 

the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.

he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you. 

“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit. 

“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.” 

megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response. 

“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”

“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”

the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hard that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.

your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.” 

despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.

“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you gush all fucking over me.” 

that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.

“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.” 

he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.

“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect. 

“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.

he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.” 

your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?” 

“really. if it means that much to you.” 

sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.” 

“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?” 

“maybe.” 

“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest. 

you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight. 

except this time, you’re not as clueless. 

you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[intoanotherworld23]

Take My Heart

Summary: Working as a waitress in one of the most popular night clubs in the city seemed like a breeze. Then you’re asked to work the infamous dark rooms where you meet the owners, and you catch the eye of one of them, Joel Miller, whose one of the most feared men and rules the city

Pairings: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: cursing, mention of sex, mention of sex toys, drinking, and mention of drugs

A/N: If anyone wishes to create a banner for me for this series I would greatly appreciate it, and of course you will be given full credit for it! Message me if you are able to do so! Thank you so much everyone and enjoy! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

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"Your late." The bartender Eric nagged as soon as you walked over to the register to clock in for the night. "Again."

"Yeah yeah I know." Waving him off as he laughed at you.

"How do you manage to be late all the time when you live just down the block?" Raising an eyebrow at you.

"You think this makes a lot of tips looking like one of the undead?" Motioning your pointer finger around your face.

"I don't think the guys are really looking at your face babe."

"Well this helps too." Pushing your boobs up for emphasis.

"How you are still single is baffling to me." His words holding more meaning than what you realized.

Dressing provocatively was a part of the job. Hiring pretty girls showing off their bodies to a bunch of drunk and horny men was how the club stayed so successful. Granted a lot of clubs were like that, but there was something about this club that was different. Something this club offered to their guests that kept them flocking in.

It was called the dark rooms. Watching as different girls were pulled into one of the rooms men leaving with satisfied looks on their faces. All you were told was that their VIP's hung out there, but you had a very good idea as to what happened behind those black curtains.

Throwing your purse behind the bar where you usually kept it knowing it would be well looked after. Not that you had much money or anything for anyone to steal. None the less it still was money to you.

The club was incredibly packed tonight, and you knew the tips were going to be amazing. It wasn't just exactly an ideal job, but being a bottle service girl was about as good as you were going to get. You didn't have any family or friends so you didn't have anyone to turn to.

"You don't think she'll be pissed do you?" Now actually starting to worry this time she wouldn't be nice.

"Nah I think you'll be fine."

"God I hope so my rent is due this week so I need the money."

Even though you didn't have the best apartment it was better than nothing, and unfortunately it was also an expensive one. It was better than nothing at this point.

"You're lucky she likes you."

"Ya know when you're perfect." Sending a cocky wink over to him as he shook the mixer over his shoulder.

"Oh yeah what would we do without you." He sarcastically spoke.

"Oh shut the fuck up Eric you wish you were like me." Flipping your hair back over your shoulder with a grin.

"Get to work before you actually get in trouble this time." Throwing a dirty rag at you causing you to burst into laughter.

Walking by the crowded tables as you headed into your bosses office to let her know you were finally here. Hoping that this time she wouldn't be actually mad at you since you really needed the money.

"Beth." Knocking lightly on the cracked door to see her sitting there typing away on the computer. "Hiya."

"Don't even try it." Looking up from the computer with a straight face.

Bowing your head as you awkwardly stood there with your hands behind your back. It was like your parent had just caught you doing something you shouldn't have, and you didn't know what was about to happen.

"I'm sorry."

"Of all nights you had to be late again." Standing up from her chair walking over to you.

"I'm sorry I took longer than what I thought." Apologizing again more sincere this time.

"You know how important tonight is for me."

"What's happening tonight?" Scrunching your brows.

"The owners are coming here." Answering bewildered that you didn't know. "So everything has to be perfect."

That explains her behavior the past couple of weeks, and why she had been frantically running around the club stressing over small things that she never did before.

"The owners?"

"Yes the owners. The ones who own this fucking club." Running a hand through her hair frantically. "The Miller Brothers. Tommy and Joel Miller."

"Never heard of em."

"They're powerful men in this city. Nobody fucks with them." It sounded more like a warning to you.

"They don't sound that scary to me." Crossing your arms across your chest.

"God you're so lucky you're pretty." She scoffed as she walked back over to her desk.

As she sat back down you took that as he way of dismissing you. Turning back to the door about to head out when her words stopped you in your tracks.

"Oh you'll be working the dark rooms tonight. One of the girls called in sick so I need you to cover for her."

"What?" Eyes wide open now. "But I've never worked the dark rooms before. I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She reassured you as you took a sigh of relief. "Just know that men pay very good money to have a pretty thing to wrap their arm around."

You knew exactly what kinds of sinful acts took place in the dark rooms, and the thought of some sleazy businessman paying you for sexual favors made your skin crawl. That wasn't the kind of thing you did or would put yourself through.

"What if they force me?"

"That's why we have security and cameras to make sure the girls stay safe."

"Why can't you ask one of the other girls?" Asking her in hopes she might ask someone else.

"Because they aren't as attractive as you."

"What if I don't want to work the dark rooms?"

"Then you better start looking for another job." Her tone serious and her eyes scowling at you that she wasn't playing around.

The two of you staring at each other as you contemplated whether this job was worth it or not. You could use some extra cash, but the thought of one of those men touching you against your will made your stomach churn. She did tell you that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but then you'd be missing out on a lot of money.

It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Having an angel on one shoulder, and the devil on the other. This would just be a one time thing though. So maybe it wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.

"Okay I'll do it." She smiled upon hearing that.

"Good. Go find Kara and she'll give you the rundown of everything."

Not saying anything else you simply nodded and took your leave. Your heart was racing and your palm was sweating already feeling nervous about what could happen tonight. Things could go smoothly or they could be a nightmare. Either way you just wanted this night to be over.

Looking around the club for Kara. Trying to spot her wild curly red hair through the sea of people. Finally spotting her talking to a group of men at a table. Flashing her pretty smile and placing a hand on their arms clearly trying to get a bigger tip.

Kara had been here longer than anyone else, and knew how to work her charm on the customers. She had also worked the dark room more than anyone else either. So you knew that she was making good money.

You'd exchanged conversation with her from time to time, but never really got close with her. She was friendly enough, but you knew she wasn't in this job to make friends, but make a shit load of money.

"Hey Kara." Shouting her name as she turned around to see who called her name. "I'm working the dark rooms tonight and Beth said you'd help me."

"Perfect follow me." Showing off her whitened teeth as she headed up the stairs you following right behind her.

"So you're working the dark rooms tonight huh?" She sounded almost amused when she asked.

"Yeah I guess so."

"Do you even know what happens in the dark rooms?" Stopping at the top to face you.

"I have a pretty good idea what happens." Your response making her grin.

She could tell just by looking at you that you were like a scared little bunny. Just the thought of going into one of these rooms petrified you. Let alone a man requesting you to stay in the rooms.

"There are different kind of rooms." Stating as you now stood in the hallway noticing some had curtains for doors. "Some rooms have dance poles. Some rooms just have large couches for relaxing, and some rooms have toys in them."

"Toys?"

"Yeah ya know sex toys and all that." Jesus Christ this place was much darker than what you thought.

"Then there's the VIP room." Standing in front of a deep and dark red double door. "Only the owners can access this room. They have it locked at all times, and they each have a key."

"What kind of men are these guys?" Asking her but not really asking her.

"The kind of men women want to be with and the type that men are scared of."

"Have you ever met them?"

"Yeah I did once." Reminiscing about the time they came in and you could practically see the drool coming out of her mouth. "Joel doesn't ever request any of the girls."

"Why not?"

"It's not really his thing." The two of you heading back down to the stairs. "Besides that man never has had to pay for sex."

"Right."

"So what exactly all do I need to do?" Asking her as you started to walk back down the hall.

"All you gotta do is smile and look pretty." That didn't sound too hard to do. "Bigger tips if you sit on their lap and let them touch you by the way."

Never mind.

You didn't know whether to take her words as a warning or not. The way she said it made it sound like that man always gets what he wants no matter what. The thought of meeting this man had your stomach churning.

Staring at yourself in the mirror trying to compose yourself as time was getting closer. Taking a shot of tequila to calm your nerves just a little bit. For all you know these could be incredible dangerous men, and your about to walk right into the lions den.

Maybe they wouldn't take a second look at you and leave you all alone. That was wishful thinking though considering these men were powerful and some of them were owners. It would be in your best interest to not say no to these men.

"Y/N let's go, there here."

Your stomach was doing somersaults now. Palms were starting to sweat, and your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. There wasn't any chance you'd be able to slip out of there. You were just gonna have to suck it up, and get the night over with.

Maybe it would be a piece of cake, and the night would be over before you know it.

"Here bring them this bottle." Eric handing you a tray that had shot glasses and a bottle of very expensive tequila as you walked past the bar.

"I didn't even know we had this here." Examining the chic looking bottle like you were holding diamonds.

"Nobody else can order that except them." Pouring liquor into a martini glass. "You better get moving they don't like to be kept waiting."

"Which room are they in?"

"First room on your left." Nodding as he gave you an encouraging smile.

Trying your best to not trip or drop the glass as you cautiously walked up the stairs to the rooms. Not knowing exactly how many men were going to be in this room.

As you approached the room you could already hear deep voices talking. Sounding like there were multiple men in there. Noticing there was four shot glasses which suggested to you that there was four men. Which wasn't too bad you've dealt with almost triple the amount of men before.

"There she is." A voice boomed as soon as you stood in the doorway.

"Where's the other girl?" Not knowing who said that as your eyes were focused on the ground.

"She called in today so Beth has me working." Answering quickly your voice quivering.

"Remind me to thank Beth." The same unknown person said making your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

Finally looking up to look at them as the red and blue lights illuminating their bodies as they sat around a table. All of them were wearing very nice suits, and their hair was styled back. They were all very good looking men, but there was one who immediately caught your eye.

He was incredibly handsome in almost a he didn't seem real. Like he was hand crafted by the gods himself, and he wasn't actually a human being. He was too perfect for words. Trying not to drool being in the same room as him.

His honey brown eyes had been staring at you since you walked in the room. Following you as you placed the glasses in front of them, and pouring them each a shot. Trying your best not to shake under his intense gaze.

The other three continued to talk as if they couldn't care less about you being in here. Which oddly made you feel relieved that they weren't trying to harass you or anything like that.

"Cheers to a good night boys." One of them toasted as they downed the first shot.

"Hell of a day." A man with tattoos on his neck continued.

"I can still see the look on their faces as we fooled them." The one that toasted said. "We totally had them by the balls they were so scared."

"Fucking idiots." The attractive one chuckled.

"Did they really just think we were going to just take the money, and not keep the g-." His voice cut off by an elbow being jabbed into his side.

"Shut the fuck up Don."

Okay that was a little weird. Obviously didn't want you to hear whatever he was about to say. Not that you would have really remembered anyway, since your mind was just focusing on getting the night over with.

Now you were feeling awkward not knowing if you had to stay in here. It wasn't clarified if you could come and go as you pleased. Not wanting to upset anyone by leaving, and they needed something. Two of these men were the owners you just didn't know who.

"Now for even more fun." Watching as the one who had tattoos on his neck pull out a bag with white stuff in it.

"Jesus fuck Andrew." The super attractive one groaned angrily.

"What?" Shrugging his shoulders as he continued to dump some on the table, pulling out a razor blade messing with the powder.

"What did I say about doing that here?" His voice stern in a warning tone.

"I mean you've said it but that doesn't mean I'm gonna listen." Cutting up some lines ignoring Joel's warning.

"I said not here." Raising his voice slightly.

"This is your club Joel." Ah so he was one of the owners. "Are you telling me I can't do this here? Or do you just not want the lady to see?"

Suddenly all four pair of eyes turned to your figure hiding in the corner. It felt as if now you were under some type of spot light. This was exactly what you were hoping to avoid, and now you were the topic.

"Andy knock it off." The fourth man spoke up. Noticing he had curly hair, and looked like he could be related to Joel. Maybe he was the brother.

"She doesn't need to see that shit." It was surprising that he was almost trying to shield you from the drugs.

"Like you don't snort this every other day Joel." He argued sarcastically back, and you could see Joel seething. "Or you either Tommy."

"I said not here." He didn't back down a vein popping out of his neck. "That's my final warning."

You could tell there was so much tension between the two of them. It was clear Joel was the man in charge, and this Andy guy was a trouble maker. The other two guys looked like they wanted to stay out of it.

Maybe Joel didn't want you seeing this cause you are new. Or maybe in a sense he was trying to impress you. It was probably because he didn't want you telling the cops on them or anything like that.

"What's your name sweetheart?" Andy smirking over at you ignoring Joel now.

Looking between the two men wondering if you should answer or just stay silent. Joel nodding his head signaling it was okay. Not sure why you were looking to him for approval anyway.

"Y/N." Sheepishly responding back to him.

"That's such a sexy name." Andrew smiled but his words just made you cringe.

"Thank you." Responding not wanting to make him angry.

That's when Andrew leaned forward more towards you giving Joel an evil look before turning his attention back to you. You could feel like things were just going to get worse.

"How would you feel about giving me a lap dance?"

Soon as the question left his lips Joel didn't hesitate to stand up, and stomp over to him ready to fight. The other two men standing up as well ready to hold him back from killing the man. Backing yourself up against the wall scared of what was about to happen.

Joel standing face to face with the man who just stood there smirking like he was winning. He acted like he wasn't terrified, but on the inside he was shitting his pants.

"What the fuck did you just say to her?"

[total-dxmure]

✦ MARLEY AND ME →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER THREE

pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader

summary: you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.

warnings: THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER MDNI!!! fingering (r receiving), exhibitionism if you squint, eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marley’s biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

The female sat in a heap on the floor, staring intently into the oven. It was almost as though she was willing the cake to rise, trying as hard as she could to convince the damn thing to do what it was supposed to do. She’d already checked the recipe numerous times, trying to see where she might have messed up. Ellie regretted not just doing what Jesse had told her to do. Bringing you some flowers would be better than showing up on your doorstep with an inedible dessert.

“It’s not fucking rising.” She cursed to herself, grabbing a clump of her hair and giving it a sharp tug.

Dirty dishes littered her kitchen counters, batter still splattered on one of her cabinets from the earlier electric mixer mishap. The woman could have easily picked up a store bought cake when she was at the grocery store getting the stupid ingredients, but she had been dumb enough to think that something homemade would taste better. It would seem that the college student enjoyed making her life harder, because on top of what seemed like an impossible workload from her professors, she’d run straight home from her classes, hell bent on making the best strawberry shortcake you and Marley had ever tasted. She’d seen the strawberries in your shopping cart when she had run into you at the grocery store earlier and thought it would be perfect. Only. . . the rubbery cake that didn’t appear to be getting any fluffier was far from perfect.

She’d done everything that the recipe had called for. You would think that doing something as easy as baking a sponge cake would be a walk in the park for someone that was majoring in astrophysics.

The cherry on top was the fact that she only had an hour to get ready before she’d have to leave her house. Which meant that she didn’t have enough time to make another stupid dessert. She turned off her oven with a defeated grunt, angrily stomping over to her fridge to see if she had anything.

It was empty, just like she knew it would be. She doubted that you would appreciate it if she brought over a frozen vegetarian lasagna, but that was all that she had left. Ellie had run out of options.

The phone rang three times before the man on the other end picked up.

“Whatcha want, girl?” Joel’s southern twang sounded on the other line.

Her shoulders instinctively slouched, her rapid heart rate calming ever so slightly.

“Joel. . . do you know how to make a sponge cake?” She asked, opening up a cabinet so that she could start grabbing for the ingredients that she had already put away.

“A sponge cake?” He questioned. She could hear rustling on the other end, then the familiar sound of his reading glasses being placed down onto a flat surface.

“I’m having dinner with a friend, and I wanted to bring dessert.” She was mumbling now, she knew that. Ellie could just imagine the aging man squinting his eyes, pressing the phone harder up against his ear so that he could hear her better.

“Jesse doesn’t care if you bake him a damn cake or not.”

She should have been offended that he thought that her only friend was Jesse. . . but he wasn’t exactly wrong about that. She huffed, rolling her eyes before leaning her hip up against the counter.

“It’s not for Jesse. I’m hanging out with someone else.” She didn’t feel like telling him the entire story of how she had met you, nor did she think that he was ready to hear about Marley.

“Uh- alright. You got a pen, kiddo?”

The woman’s heart was pounding as she climbed the steps up to the small house. She’d driven through the neighborhood quite a lot over the last four years, but would rather die than admit to you that her plug just so happened to live just a few houses down. The bag felt heavy in her hand, embarrassment weighing heavy on her mind as she thought about the fact that she’d have to assemble the fruit and whipped cream after dinner, seeing as the damn cake was still cooling. If there was one thing she could count on Joel to get right every time, it was cooking something delicious. She’d seen the man make a drool worthy meal out of little more than a can of Chef Boyardee, a few onions and fresh parmesan.

Ellie wasn’t Joel though, and there was a good chance that you’d bite into an eggshell. She’d tried her best to fish them out of the batter, but she was positive that she missed a few. She debated just leaving the dessert in her car.

The woman’s feet faltered on the porch, the old wood creaking underneath her. The home was small, but it was obvious that you’d tried to make it nice. Freshly planted flowers were in a few pots right by the screen door. Ellie could imagine Marley’s dirty little palms stuck elbow deep into the pots, wanting nothing more than to help you. Her lips twitched upwards into a smile before she could even help it, because she could hear your voice behind that door.

“Marley Mae! Get your cute little booty over here!” A loud little squeal echoed around the house, followed by a giggle that would even make a weathered soldier’s heart melt.

The woman looked over her outfit one last time, then brushed her free hand over her lips to make sure she hadn’t nervously chewed all of the chapstick off of them. She was wearing the A-Ha band shirt that Jesse had given her last Christmas, and had tucked it into a pair of high waisted trousers. It was stylish without making her look like a try-hard. She held the screen door open with the heel of her boot so that she could knock on the brightly painted door.

Red. It was a nice color too.

You cursed under your breath as you heard the knock, your heart racing as you realized that your daughter was running around the living room with the shirt that you had neatly laid out to wear for tonight. Your nervous brain malfunctioned though- it must have- because you called out to her.

“It’s open!” You wished that you could suck the words right back into your mouth, because there you were, standing right in front of the opening door, in nothing but a lacy blue bra.

She was looking down at the small step up, a few strands of auburn hair falling into her face. She was wearing a pair of high waisted mens dress pants, and the sleeves of her band shirt was cuffed at the sleeves, which showed off her toned arms.

If your brain was malfunctioning before. . . now it has completely shut down.

Marley didn’t seem to care about the visitor. The little girl continued to run around, your freshly washed off-the shoulder top wrinkled in her hands as she ran in circles around the living room. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, so you couldn’t be angry. You’d reacted so strongly to her pulling the shirt off of the bed, which was your mistake. She thought it was funny when you chased her, and so you were the idiot for acting on your panicked impulses.

So here you were, completely topless and standing directly in front of Ellie, who still hadn’t noticed your partial nakedness seeing as she was setting the bag she was holding down by the front door. Was she too nervous to look at you? Or. . . was she usually this clueless about her surroundings?

“I was kinda scared that I’d driven to the wrong house-” Her eyes fell on the toddler running around with a shirt in her hands first, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. You could see her lips pull up into a mischievous smile, the understanding that the little girl was doing something that she wasn’t supposed to finally dawning on her.

Then she looked up at you, that same smile still pulling up at her lips and the corners of her bright green eyes.

But then she nearly died.

Both physically and mentally.

“Holy shi-” She stumbled back, throwing her arm behind her so that she could give you some privacy.

Because you were standing in front of her. In nothing but jeans and a bra. . .

And even calling that thing a bra was being too kind. The damned thing was merely pretty wire, polkadot mesh, and some lace. Ellie didn’t have to lay in bed and imagine what your breasts looked like. Not anymore. She’d gotten a full view of them along with your perfectly perky nipples, which was probably due to the box-fan you had turned on in the living room.

Ellie missed the panicked look on your face. She missed whatever words rushed past your lips, because she was too busy staring at your chest. You lurched forwards for her, and all the poor woman could do was stare at the way they bounced.

“Ellie, watch your arm!” You were stumbling forward, trying to yank her away from the old screen door.

You’d fallen victim to the loose metal grate too many times to count. The worst you’d gotten were a few cuts on your fingers that burned like a bitch. The fleshy part of Ellie’s forearm was headed straight for it though.

Ellie stumbled onto the porch, the terrible burning sensation in her arm not even registering.

“I-I’m so sorry,” She rasped out, eyes wide. Her cheeks were bright red all the way up to her ears.

Blood was dripping down to her fingers and splattering on the wooden deck, but she couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in her ears. Her whole body felt feverish, so the fresh blood went completely unnoticed.

You were covering up your chest with one hand as you hurried out onto the porch after her, using your free arm to grab her and haul her blabbering form inside.

“I-I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to. . . I think you have the wrong idea about me. Honest, I was going to tell you eventually, but I-” Ellie wasn’t straight, and it would be unfair of her to ogle at you under false pretenses.

It was hard to say anything though when you were rushing her into the kitchen. Ellie could barely keep up with you, stumbling a bit. Your eyes were wide for some reason. Maybe you were understanding where all of this was going. Maybe you were religiously straight, and she’d just ruined any possibility of a friendship. Had you noticed her staring? Holy fuck, of course you did.

“I’m a lesbian-” “You’re bleeding all over the place!”

You both went silent, staring at each other with wide eyes. Ellie’s gaze on your face faltered, and slowly she looked down at her arm, where you were currently keeping a firm grip. Your knuckles were practically white you were holding her so tightly. The athletic woman could understand why now. She wasn’t just bleeding but bleeding.

She was used to injuring herself. Ellie and Joel were outdoorsy people. She grew up learning to fish, hunt, and live off of the land. Which meant she had fallen out of a million trees, stabbed herself a thousand times, and has had more near death experiences than she’d care to admit. Her survival training should kick in. . . but it wasn’t. 

Because your boobs were still directly in her face.

Honestly, there was no other way she’d rather die. It would take her a few hours to bleed to death from a cut like this, even if she had sliced clean through a vein. Maybe, if she were lucky, you’d feel bad for her and take off the pants too. She wondered for a second whether you were wearing a matching pair of panties.

‘Please God- if you exist- I hope she is wearing matching panties. I’ll make up for every rotten thing I’ve ever done if I could just. . .’

“Hospital.” You croaked, your lips going pale.

Ellie finally noticed the vein in your throat pounding away. Your eyes were beginning to well up with tears too. The woman swallowed thickly and painfully tore her attention off of your chest.

“I’m okay. I’m not in any pain. Let me see if I can wrap it up and stop the bleeding. I’ll drive myself to the hospital if I need to.” Her voice was steady. Her profusely bleeding wound was the only thing she felt certain and safe about in this situation.

“Don’t be stupid, Ellie,” You shook your head quickly, disappearing out of the kitchen. “I’m taking Marley to my mom’s house! Give me two minutes!” You sounded like you were on the opposite side of the house.

The front door opened and closed before Ellie could protest. All she could do was stand over the sink, her shaky hand reaching for paper towels in an attempt to wipe up what looked to be a murder scene on the tiled floor. She was bleeding all in your sink too, the smell of iron thick in the air. The blood wasn’t clotting, and it looked nowhere close to stopping. She twisted her forearm around, wincing when she finally noticed the cut. It was clean- deep. If you had the supplies at home, she could just stitch herself up here. . . but Ellie had a feeling that she’d terrify you if she tried that.

So. . . the hospital was the only choice.

You’d tossed a shirt over your head so quickly that you hadn’t even seen what it was. Your red converse slapped against the pavement as you ran across the street, Marley bouncing on your hip, babbling excitedly in your ear. You silently thanked the heavens that your daughter was a habitually happy baby and wasn’t feeding off of your anxiety.

You were nearly in tears by the time that you made it to your mother’s house. She answered the door almost immediately, her hair held up with chopsticks atop her head. She smiled sweetly at Marley, who held her arms open for her grandmother.

“What on earth is going on, baby-” She paused as she noticed the blood on your hands. “W-What. . .”

You shook your head, already stepping off of the porch. “I-It’s not mine. My friend accidentally sliced her arm open. I have to take her to the hospital. Can you watch Marley for me? Just until I get home.”

You knew your mother would agree. You were already running down the street, her hurried “of course” getting lost in the wind that breezed by your ears. Your hair was a mess, your cheeks felt hot, and you knew that you were crying.

Because of course you were.

Tonight was ruined, and it was all your fault. The pot roast that you had put on early this morning tasted perfect, the house was spotless, and Marley had actually gone down today for her two o’clock nap. This dinner had been terribly important to you. It wasn’t until you were stumbling up the steps of your own porch that you finally realized how much weight you’d put on this stupid little get together.

Ellie might not even be attracted to you. You could be reading the situation all wrong, but you were hoping that you could have a chance at love. Didn’t you deserve it? You tried and you tried for everyone else aside from yourself, and this was the first time you’d done something selfish in years.

The girl of your dreams was standing in your kitchen, practically gushing blood in your stainless steel sink, and you’d blown your chance at happiness. Your version of perfect was never going to be enough for anyone. Because you were broke with little to no education. . . and a child that couldn’t even spell her own name yet.

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes as you rounded the corner.

“Remind me to fix that door the next time I’m here.” Ellie wasn’t looking at you, which you were thankful for. She was too busy holding a wad of paper towels against the wound.

Your heart squeezed uncomfortably in your chest.

Next time. There was going to be a “next time”.

Ellie followed your gentle guidance out to your car, begrudgingly getting in the passenger seat. She felt guilty that you had to drive her all the way into town. That. . . and the fact that she probably traumatized your child, what with all the blood. You fumbled with the radio, trying to find a station that she might like.

“I like this song.” Ellie said calmly, and what do you know. . . your hand dropped back into your lap.

The car plummeted into silence, Depeche Mode playing softly over the speakers as she watched the sun finally drop behind the horizon, bathing the two of you in a blue twilight glow. Ellie was very familiar with Jackson.

It would be at least twenty minutes until you made it to the nearest Urgent Care. So she leaned back in the seat and tightened her grip on her arm.

“Can I see you again after this? Or. . . I understand if what I said earlier makes you uncomfortable.” Your silence was making her feel on edge.

Ellie had single handedly ruined dinner. She had a talent for ruining things, actually. Ellie Williams was the kind of person that should live away from other people. All she needed was a backpack and a hunting knife, and she’d feel safe. Safer than she would in a neighborhood full of people, really. Wild animals, deadly or not, were predictable. Bears and wolves attack, so you’ve gotta intimidate them. If all else fails, aim for the head.

Ellie couldn’t read you, and that scared her. Terrified her actually, because for some reason she was certain that being turned down by you would break her significantly more than any other rejection ever had. It would be the kind of pain that kept you in bed for days, overthinking every decision that had gotten you to that point. She didn’t want to be old and alone, thinking about the girl that she’d liked in her youth. It pained Ellie to even think about forgetting the exact color of your eyes, or the natural softness that your voice possessed.

Ellie didn’t know you well enough to be in love with you yet. . . but give her a few weeks, and she knew that she’d be a goner.

It wasn’t that you were the only person available. You weren’t in her friend group, so dating you wasn’t just what should be the natural progression of things. This wasn’t a small campus crush doomed to fail. Ellie hadn’t stopped thinking about you ever since you’d first walked into Tommy’s restaurant.

“Do you think I’m homophobic or something?” You spoke up, shooting her a small smile from where you sat.

“I mean. . . we live in Wyoming.” Ellie trailed off, but her lips turned up as you began to laugh.

“Yeah, you do have a point there.” Your shoulders began to slouch, an audible sigh of relief escaping you. “I was scared you wouldn’t want to see me again after this.” You admitted.

Ellie didn’t strike you as the type of person that liked to feel vulnerable, so you owed her some embarrassing truths. Even if it ended up mortifying you.

“I’ve had at least ten concussions in my life. Fifteen stitches is child's play.” She used the hand that wasn’t currently leaking blood to wave your worry off, sinking deeper into the old seat of your car. “Uh-” She sat up quickly, turning her head to look at the road that you’d just driven past.

“I think we should have made that turn-” “I’m a lesbian.”

Ellie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her neck nearly popping with the force that she used to look at your face. You’d sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth nervously, but your eyes were locked on the road.

“I know a shortcut. Relax, I’m not kidnapping you.” You added, turning onto a dirt road that she’d never seen before.

The hand that you had resting on your thigh was beginning to shake. You balled it into a tight fist, hoping she hadn’t noticed. That was the first time you’d ever said it outloud. Ellie was the first person you’d ever told about your sexuality, and you felt. . . liberated. And scared shitless.

“I’m not exactly too focused on the creepy backroads right now.” She mumbled, still staring at you.

The buttons on your dashboard were casting all sorts of shadows on your lovely face. Your eyelashes were so thick, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that you’d put on makeup for her.

And oh god.

She really didn’t have a gaydar, because holy shit this was a date. She should have listened to Jesse and gotten you flowers. She should have put more effort into her appearance- slapped some clear mascara on at the very least.

If she wasn’t bleeding all over the white dish towel that you had wrapped around her arm, then she would have told you to put your car in park. The urge to kiss you was hurting her more than the gaping wound did. She bounced her leg, trying to distract herself from the aching need that was gnawing at the pit of her stomach.

“I mean. . . I’ve never been with a woman before, but all I know is that I’ve never liked guys. Not even a little bit.” You were spilling your guts now, and you couldn’t even stop it.

You’d been waiting to tell someone all of this since middle school. You were practically shaking like a leaf. It felt good to say all of it though, even if you were setting yourself up to get hurt.

Ellie thought back to what Jesse had said about lesbians having children. Never once had Ellie felt the need to force herself to sleep with a man to appear normal. Instead she just. . . hadn’t shown any interest in anyone. She was sure that Joel thought that she was asexual when she was growing up.

You. . . you had done something that had felt wrong to you, just so that others wouldn’t see you differently. Ellie wasn’t the type to get emotional, but she found her eyes getting a bit misty. Her small nose wrinkled a bit as she tried to fight the feeling.

“You’ve never even kissed a woman?” Ellie asked, finally recognizing the road that they were on. They were close to the emergency room. Too close, actually. She was hoping for a few more moments alone with you.

“No.” You were mortified to admit it, but you needed to.

You pulled into the parking lot and threw the car into park. That was enough embarrassment for one day. The sooner you could get her seen by a doctor, the sooner you could silently begin to come up with a plan to save tonight.

“How ‘bout I kiss you,” Her warm breath was on your cheek. You let out a small gasp and turned your head, eyes widening as you realized that she was leaning over the armrest, her hand gripping the back of your seat. “And then you’ll know for sure. It’s just a test.”

If God existed, Ellie knew that her being gay wasn’t the reason she’d for sure be sent to hell. She’d physically hurt a lot of people. She’d been expelled from just about every school she’d ever been in. For a while there, she and Joel were moving state to state for what felt like every school semester. She was sharp tongued and knew how to really lash out at others. She had two very capable, very dangerous hands. . . and she hadn’t been afraid to use them.

And here she was, using your own inexperience as a way to kiss you. She was desperate though. No matter how fucked up this tactic was, she would never come to regret it. You could rip her heart straight out of her chest for all she cared.

Ellie wanted you in every conceivable way.

She’d be your best friend if that was the only thing you needed from her. She’d fuck you every day of the week until you finally got bored of her and called her away. She’d wake up early just to make those pancakes your daughter loved in the mornings. . . All you had to do was say the word.

She was yours.

“What if,” Ellie could feel your breath fan over her lips. Her eyes fluttered, but she somehow managed to keep them open. “What if you don’t like it?”

“I will.” Ellie nodded gently, wishing she had two good hands to hold you with.

You were the one to press your lips to hers. You knew what you were doing, which partially shattered her heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Ellie wanted to be selfish with you. She wanted to be your first everything. She silently cursed whoever had come before her, but her brain shut off completely when she felt your hand move up to cup her cheek. The ear ringing from earlier resumed in full force the second your lips began moving against hers, your warm tongue brushing against her lower lip. Her grip on the back of your seat loosened, and instead she moved it to the base of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to her.

She was in control of herself. She had kept the fact that the two of you were in a very public parking lot in mind.

Until the second you sighed into her open mouth. Game over. She was ruined.

Utterly ruined.

Her bloody hand reached over and yanked the key out of the ignition, fumbling to place it on the center console before she started pulling you over arm rest. She needed the weight of you on her lap. She needed pressure- sensation. She needed. She needed. She needed.

“How tinted are your windows?” She mumbled against your lips, her strong hands gripping your thighs so that she could help you straddle her.

You’d never actually been turned on by any of your sexual partners in the past. You usually just grinned and beared it, then laid awake at night wondering why on earth you weren’t like other girls.

All the two of you had done was make out, and your legs were already quivering. You were dripping wet, and was far too distracted by Ellie’s very pink, very kissed lips to think about the fact that you were wearing jeans.

“T-They’re legal, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could barely think, your hands already tangling back into Ellie’s hair.

She didn’t have time to whine out a complaint, because you were so pliant in her hands. You were this weak little mewling thing on top of her, and all she could do was grip onto you. Had either of you actually known pleasure before? Because Ellie was positive she’d never felt anything like this. She wasn’t even being touched, but she was certain that she could climax just like this.

Her hands gripped your waist, then brushed up your stomach. She didn’t ask for permission, which she’d apologize relentlessly for later. You weren’t stopping her though.

If anything, you were the one that had started the touching. You were currently stretching out the neck of her t-shirt, one hand gripping her chin and the other one spread out on her back, playing with the straps of her sports bra. You gasped into her mouth again as Ellie’s hand finally made contact with your breast. She remembered the way you looked in that bra earlier. Remembered how your tits had bounced- looked like they were practically going to burst over the thin bit of fabric-

“Oh, fuck.” Ellie cursed, hips moving upwards before she could calm herself.

“Doctor-” Your voice came out in a desperate little whine, and Ellie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hips lifting up against yours again, the friction practically causing her to jump straight out of her skin.

“I’m- I’m not bleeding as bad anymore. Please. Please.” Ellie was pushing your bra up and over your breasts, lifting your shirt up with her bloody hand just so that she could look.

She’d fuck you right there in the back of the hospital parking lot. She’d never wanted anyone this badly before. This was just as new to her as it was for you. This felt. . . this all felt different.

Because you were touching her back. You weren’t some straight girl looking to turn a boy on by telling him that you’d been with a lesbian before.

You were gay, and you were interested in her. Ellie felt like she had died and gone to heaven, because this was everything that she’d ever wanted. . . minus the wound.

It was her begging that had you leaning back on your calves, untucking her shirt so roughly that she questioned whether or not the two of you would have to fight for dominance. She tossed her shirt into the drivers side seat, smiling when your lips were back on hers the second she was topless.

Your hands were cold when you pushed them underneath the tight fabric of her sports bra. You took advantage of that, feeling her nipples hardening against your palms. Her muscles tightened in her shoulders as you pinched them between your pointer and middle fingers, gripping the small breasts a little tighter, wanting to feel the weight of them.

She moaned against your lips, eyes clenching shut so hard that fireworks exploded behind her lids.

It was too late now.

Ellie was on a mission to make you cum.

She felt guilty that the two of you hadn’t even been on a first official date yet, and here she was, planning to finger fuck you in a parking lot- but could anyone really blame her?

“I’m gonna fuck you,” Ellie pulled away from your lips, instantly recognizing that this wasn’t her asking for consent. She flinched, shaking her head gently. “Is that okay?” She rephrased it, moving a hand down to the waistband of your jeans. She gave it a gentle tug, letting you know that she was serious. She couldn’t stop herself.

“Y-Your arm, Ellie.” You moved to grab her injured forearm, but she gripped your wrist before you could.

“Let’s say I stop now. Even if we did that, I won’t get seen for another hour by a doctor. I’m going to sit there and think about this,” She cupped your sex in her hand, the tips of her fingers brushing over your clothed entrance. “The entire time. I’ll stop if you climb out, but if we stay in here any longer I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

You bit your bottom lip again, your eyes narrowing in concern. Ellie wasn’t bleeding as badly as she was before, but she for sure needed a few stitches. She didn’t appear to be in any pain though. If anything, she seemed more focused on you. You didn’t want to kill the moment, but shouldn’t you-

Ellie began fidgeting with the top button on your jeans, and that was all it took. You wordlessly climbed into the backseat, smiling widely as you heard her scrambling to follow you.

You thanked all that was holy that you’d taken Marley’s car seat out earlier that morning to give to your mother since she was watching her tomorrow. You had the entire backseat, and despite the fact that the two of you were still out in the open, you felt a little more hidden now that the two of you were ducked down.

Ellie was already taking full advantage of the added bit of privacy, the hem of your shirt already up to your neck. She was pushing your bra back up and over your tits, eager to really look at you.

She wasn’t sure what this meant for either of you, and she didn’t feel like ruining the moment by complicating anything. Ellie liked you, and she was willing to wait until you felt the same about her too-

Was she being overly self conscious and stupid right now? Wasn’t this. . . wasn’t this proof enough of how you felt about her? You’d been the one to take the reins during this entire friendship. You’d asked for her number and invited her over for dinner. All Ellie had done was kiss you, only after you let her know that you were interested.

Ellie moved her lips from your mouth down your neck, pushing her hands under your hips so that she could move down your chest. She paused though, looking up at you worriedly.

“Am I going to hurt you if I suck on them?” She wasn’t sure how nursing works. She didn’t exactly have an overflow of women in her life to tell her about those sorts of things.

You laughed, shaking your head quickly. You were panting softly, your cheeks deliciously flushed. “No, but I can still produce milk, so be caref-”

“Okay, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” Ellie had to brace herself, green eyes fully zoned into your beautiful, full breasts. So. . . if she sucked hard enough-

“Is this when you tell me that you have a mommy kink?” You asked playfully, starting to sit up.

“I didn’t,” She assured you, shooting you a small smile. “Until now. Lay back down.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but you practically swallowed the noise when she finally closed her lips around your nipple, her hands making quick work of your jeans. They were unbuttoned and pushed down off of your hips before you could say anything. She removed her mouth from your breasts long enough to look at your panties.

And if god was real, they had answered her wish.

Because holy fuck you matched. Of course you did. She bit onto her lower lip hard, closing her eyes for a second so that she didn’t rip them right off of you. They were cute, and she wanted to see you in them again. Ellie wasn’t very good at being gentle in any aspect of her life.

Especially with you, it would seem.

She wanted to be mean to you all of a sudden. Leave bruises and marks to be explored later. She wanted to bite into your soft flesh and see just how easy it would be to leave hickies, but she couldn’t.

So she needed to breathe.

She leaned back up, pressing her lips against yours. She brushed her fingers against your thigh at first, letting you get used to the idea of her touching you. She desperately wanted to become more than acquainted with your cunt, but she needed to be gentle with you. You wrapped your arms around her tightly, your bare chest pressing against her clothed breasts. She wished she was naked. God, she regretted not being able to do this in bed. She’d gladly bleed to death if it meant that she could take her time with you.

She wanted to press every inch of her body against yours, but now wasn’t the time for that.

Her fingers grazed over your folds, and if her eyes weren’t closed then she was sure that they would have bulged straight out of her skull.

You were dripping.

Pride and possessiveness threatened to crush her ribs as she gathered up your slick, using it to rub a lazy circle around your clit. You jerked against her, but she didn’t let you pull your lips off of hers. She swallowed the strangled moan, eyes fluttering open briefly so that she could look at you.

You were precious.

She continued to draw circles, knowing that it was what she liked personally. She switched up the pace though, moving her arm to get better leverage. This time you were able to pull away from her, letting out a cry, your eyes opening so that you could look at Ellie’s face.

She was beautiful. Even with that predatorial look on her face, you couldn’t ignore the freckles and flushed cheeks. There was something so oppositional about her- how dominant but unassuming she looked. Here she was, moving you around like you weighed no more than a doll.

And then she sunk two of her fingers inside of you. The stretch was glorious, but it was the look on her face that had your walls fluttering around her. Pink lips parted to reveal her clenched teeth. Like she was damn near close to biting right into you. She was holding herself back fucking you like this. You weren’t sure what that meant, but your eyes were rolling to the back of your head the more you thought about it.

And then she brushed her thumb against your clit, her fingers nearly bruising your cervix as she continued to thrust them into you.

Your name escaped her lips then. She said it like a prayer. Like it was a promise.

Ellie curled her fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot that your much smaller hands couldn’t reach.

“Oh, fuck!” Your eyes were tearing up, hands fumbling around for anything to grip. You needed to hold something in order to ground yourself, because you were trying hard not to get the two of you arrested for indecent exposure.

Ellie was busy watching it all. She was sitting on her calves, greedily turning her gaze from your fucking gorgeous expressions to your glistening pussy, which was currently swallowing her fingers. Your walls were satiny soft, and she could feel them flutter around her as she continued hitting the same spot that got such a loud reaction from you earlier.

You were quivering under her, hands moving from the carseat, up to your breasts, and then your hair. You yanked at your locks, the pleasure practically too much. Ellie was this beautiful, vicious thing on top of you. It was obvious that she wanted to wrench out every bit of pleasure from you, even if you said it was too much. Even if you told her to stop. There was a glint in her eyes that told you she wouldn’t be able to. She was just as hungry for your release as you were.

“Grip onto me, baby.” She moved to lay back on top of you, adding a finger for extra measure.

Your hands were at her back immediately, fingernails digging into her freckled flesh. She pressed her face into your neck, enjoying your floral scent- moaning at the pain and the pleasure that was building in her own abdomen. She almost laughed- finding her own impending release comical.

Because there was no way she was about to prematurely cum because she was touching you, a girl that she was pretty much head over heels for. The tightening in her abdomen was familiar though, and all she could do was lamely moan your name against your throat.

“You’re not gonna hurt me. Hold me tighter.” She mumbled, her hand moving quicker and quicker, the sounds echoing around your car bordering on illegal.

You were the hottest thing on the entire planet. She was sure of it. Her hands shook as your nails dug in deeper, to the point that she was positive she was bleeding. She wanted a physical reminder of what happened tonight. Scars and all. Whatever she could take with her later on in life, especially if this was a one time thing.

She needed every physical and mental reminder that you were willing to give her. So Ellie moved her face so that she was looking at you, even when her own pleasure was building to the point where her own knees quivered, finding it hard to hold up her own weight.

She watched you unravel. Felt your cunt practically swallow her fingers as you tightened around them. Your back arched, eyes pinched closed as your cherubic lips parted in a silent scream.

And then Ellie followed right after you.

She leaned her head against your chest, hips jerking forward as she continued to work you through the waves of your own pleasure, trying not to get drowned by her own.

“D-Did you. . .” You breathlessly started to ask, your big doe eyes practically the size of saucers.

“I promise, t-this is the first time this has ever happened.” Ellie admitted, feeling a touch of shame.

You wanted to take a few minutes to calm your pounding heart, but the sight of the bloody towel on the floorboard had you clambering to sit up, moving your bra and shirt back into their rightful places. Ellie was still trying to catch her breath, the muscles in her shoulders still twitching from her own release. You opened up the car door after snatching up the keys, and for a second the auburn haired girl felt terrified.

She bit her lower lip, wiping her dripping fingers off on her pants before grabbing her shirt and climbing out of the car. Alright. . . so this was it, right? You knew you were a lesbian now, and she would be left in the dust. It wasn’t such a bad arrangement, really. She couldn’t even be mad. 

Technically, if she really thought about it, you’d been just as much her first as she had been yours. 

Her boots crunched against the gravel as she followed you into the hospital, her heart still pounding in her chest. She shrugged on the shirt as she walked, careful not to tug at the wound in any way. 

Ellie’s forehead was beaded with sweat, and she nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. 

She’d never gotten her heart broken by a gay girl before, and here it was. For some reason. . . she knew with certainty that this was going to hurt ten times worse than any of the other ones had. 

But then the hand that wasn’t sliced open from elbow to wrist was being gripped. 

Your fingers intertwined with hers.

“I’m sorry to break it to you babe, but you’re definitely a lesbian.” Ellie told you with a small smile, opening the door to the lobby for you.  

“Oh, for sure.”  

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why not to buy tlou2 remastered (please read)

[melikedraw]

Can you write anything for kaneda pls 😓 anything fluff tysm in advance love you 🩷🩷

Dating Kaneda Suekichi headcanons

Kaneda x gn! Reader

Fluff all the way

~~~~~

Funny thing is, before I started on kengan ashura I always thought kaneda would be the guy I'd end up simping for bc he looked a lot like another guy I used to really like (kamo noritoshi from jjk)

As you can tell that did NOT happen but I do like him he's definitely in my top 10

~~~~~

- I think kaneda would only consider dating someone if he already knew them beforehand

- mixers and dating apps aren't really his thing, so you have got to be his close friend for a while now for him to even think of you in a romantic light

- he's the type to slowly fall in love with someone after getting to know them

- before you two even START dating he'd probably have y'all's lives entirely planned out

- bro is an Overthinker™ he will have every single date planned to a tee (he just thinks you deserve the best and only the best)

- Despite his efforts, one way or another, those dates never go his way

- pretty ironic considering his foresight during matches is near perfect

- one way or another, things don't go as planned, no matter how meticulous he had previously been (you find it cute though so after a while he just accepts that he doesn't have to make everything perfect)

- most of the time it's because of the dumbasses he hangs out with (okubo and rihito)

- they somehow managed to butt into any situation in a way that would make kaneda want to tear his hair out

- speaking of the idiots, kaneda would NOT want to introduce them to his friend group l, especially in the first few months of dating you

- okubo and rihito canNOT be trusted to act normal around you and he's worried that you'd think he's spending time around bad influences and weirdos

- for himuro, however, the reason is completely opposite

- kaneda knows how slick he is, and with someone as perfect as you, kaneda knows he won't hold back

- it's not that kaneda doesn't trust you or anything, he knows you'd never cheat on him and he isn't exactly a jealous type (or at least that's what he tells himself) (he's defo a jealous type in denial)

- kaneda may be close friends with himuro, but he's never been a big fan of how he treated women

- himuro was the type to have multiple girlfriends at the same time, without feeling any guilt about cheating on all of them

- even if kaneda wasn't dating you, he wouldn't want you to get caught up in himuro's bad habits with women

- more than that though, he knows how good himuro is at sweet talking people or just being fun to hang out with in general, and would be worried about feeling jealous seeing you two together, even if just as friends

- he's a tad bit (not just a tad, let's be for real here) insecure, so make sure to comfort him on that!!!!

- despite this, he doesn't keep your existence a secret from them, he simply can't

- sometimes they wonder if you're even real because kaneda loves talking about you but refuses to let them meet you

- kaneda would probably want to introduce you to his parents, and hopes you'd do the same

- he feels that it makes the relationship seem more official

- though he would absolutely not push it if your relationship with your parents aren't good

- kaneda would secretly love being the little spoon when cuddling

- if you wrap you arms and legs around him and maybe even comb your fingers through his hair he'd probably never move again (until you get up of course)

- PDA would be a no go for him though

- at most holding hands and maybe a small kiss here and there

- but if you try to full on make out with him in a public space he will FREAK

- blushing, sweating, nervous stuttering, you name it, he did it (you're gonna break him if you keep that up)

~~~~~

I hope this isn't ooc or anything I'm not sure if I have a good grasp on his character

Low-key incoherent bc I just put down whatever drifted into my empty brain throughout the day

[fandomnerd9602]

Just One

Female!Tony Stark x Reader

For Ms Antonia ‘Toni’ Stark, the genius billionaire philanthropist and founding member of A Force, there was a lot supposed to be ‘just one’s when it came to you.

Just One Meeting

She hated having to meet potential candidates for test pilots. Toni found most of them to be more narcissistic than her, if that were even possible. If Toni had it her way, she’d be testing her own jets and planes. They’re hers after all.

And then you stepped through the door, humble yet confident. Your eyes were focused on two things: the job and how her eyes were your favorite thing to look at. Other pilots would try to quickly get her in the sack. Not you. You were respectful of her and her authority.

Toni was never one to fall in love. And then she fell flat on her face in love with you.

Just One Drink

It was supposed to be a company mixer. Toni tried to take her mind off of you. It was illegal, you were an employee of hers. But you were so perfect.

She tried to drink the problems away. But that just led to her being hunched over a toilet with someone keeping her hair out of her face as she vomited.

“It’s okay Toni” the voice reassured her, “I got you”

It was you who was there for her. You and Rhodey helped care for her that night and with the hangover the following morning.

Toni couldn’t help but smile.

Just One Kiss

It was supposed to be just one. One kiss to silence the feelings. Well…so she thought. One kiss led to another. Next thing you and Toni knew, you were pressing each other against every wall possible, slowly making your way towards your room. Her lips on yours, it was everything you dreamt of.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” You ask her. “I don’t want you to think-“

Toni giggles, “I know what i want and what I want is you”

Toni never felt so loved. So taken care of, even the following morning. You held her hand as you drank coffee together and talked about things you wanted to do.

Toni saw a glimpse, a hope, she could get used to doing this with you. Every single day of the rest of her life.

She knew you were a keeper.

Just One Date

It was just one date. One date to find out if you and her were really compatible. Well one date became several. And several become multiple.

Toni found that her favorite kind of date was just cuddling with you on your couch and making out while listening to AC/DC. You can tell a lot about a person by their taste in music…and just their taste in general.

Just One Dance

It was just one dance. An important one though. You and her swayed to the music out on the dance floor.

“You look beautiful, my love” you complimented her on her wedding dress.

“You look so good I wanna tear you out of yours” she purrs in your ear.

“Later, darling” you whisper back to your bride.

Just One Little Hospital Visit

It was a pleasant little surprise. Or maybe not. Toni really wanted one and so did you.

Toni was tired, sweaty, and worn out from the labor but it was all worth it as the doctors laid yours and hers little baby girl on her chest.

“Hello Morgan” Toni smiled at her baby. “I’m your momma. You just got the world’s coolest set of parents”

“She sure did” you chuckle as you hold Toni close and kiss her forehead.

Just One Move

Toni wouldn’t tell you where she was taking you and Morgan. All you knew was the biggest smile was on her face. The look of giddiness was so priceless.

Toni led you and Morgan to your new home. A two story cabin near a pristine lake.

“Welcome home” she smiled before pulling you into a hug. She whispered in your ear, “and once Morgan is asleep, you and I can ‘christen’ every single room”

Your mischievous wife topped it off with a little smirk and a wink. Why did she have to look so hot when she does that?

Just One?

It was one morning as you were playing in the field close to the cabin with your daughter Morgan. Toni walks up to you with a familiar sway in her hips.

“Hey you” she purrs.

“Hey gorgeous” you respond as your wife wraps her arms around your neck.

“We did agree on just one right?” She asks with a mischievous grin as she smacks you playfully with a pregnancy test.

“What?! You’re-?!”

Toni laughs as she nods up and down happily. She kisses you and hold onto you tightly.

[vivwritescrappythings]

twenty-five

eddie munson x gn!reader

A self indulgent fic for my birthday today. I always cry on my birthday, no matter what, and this was inspired by my own boyfriend who is so lovely and sweet and Eddie reminds me of him all the time. But, nevertheless, treated this one like a diary entry more than a fic.

or

You always cry on your birthday, and this is the year Eddie finds out.

tw: crying, talks about death, panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader but also heavily girl coded bc this is a self indulgent fic about my own life and I identify as a girl, not proofread

Word count: 2.8k

masterlist

-

There’s something horrible about the way that time just keeps going no matter what. No stops, no returns. There’s no warning that something just happened for the last time, no flashing signs that say: Stop! You’ll never get to experience this again so savor it!

Everything just moves on and moves on and moves on.

Your thoughts are cyclical in nature, it takes you give or take 365 days to get to the same spot: crumpled somewhere private, crying. When you were young it used to be your parents’ walk-in closet, you would curl where your mother’s skirts met your father’s jeans and sob until you could hardly breathe. In your teen years the big meltdown would take place in your car, the beat up SUV felt like your own box of privacy to cry into the palms of your hands after school. You had to hide under the cover of your comforter in your dorm room, praying you were silent enough that your roommate didn’t notice.

This year is the same as any other, you feel like an anvil has been placed on your chest the second you open your eyes. Sunlight diffuses through the sheer lilac curtains over your bedroom window, tinging the morning with an eerie, dreamlike quality. Normally you find the color to be pleasant, mystical rather than gloomy.

Eddie is still asleep next to you, your gaze pulled to the gentle peace that has settled on his face. He’s never still and calm like this, you like to take your opportunities to absorb him in this state when possible. You resist the urge to press a kiss to his pink lips, deciding to let him catch these last few hours of sleep that you yourself have been deprived of.

He’s always been better at sleeping than you, the beginning few hours of most mornings spent on your own reading or watching some show in the other room. It doesn’t matter if you’re at his trailer or your apartment, you always wake up when the first dregs of sunlight hit your eyelids.

You pull yourself from bed with a soft groan, stretching and blinking in an attempt to ground yourself. Of course, it isn’t sufficient, the dizzy feeling of dread curling around your shoulders like a blanket as you emerge from your room into the modest kitchen of your single-room apartment. The bedroom door closes with a soft click behind you, just enough to shield Eddie and let him rest.

There are still a million tasks that you need to accomplish today. You’d made progress yesterday evening, dusting and scrubbing and rearranging every corner of your apartment in an attempt to make it look like no one had ever lived there. It was mostly accomplished, dishes still in the sink and pillows on the couch rumpled where you had been watching television.

While the coffee brews you set on your first task of the day, pulling the mixer out of a cupboard along with a large bowl you’d gotten from the thrift store. Baking while Eddie is asleep will be easier, his fingers no longer poking into the bowl for a taste or his puppy-dog eyes set on you like a weapon in an attempt to convince you to let him lick the spoon. The bowl you used to mix the cake batter yesterday sat in the sink, licked so clean that if you didn’t know any better you would have put it away.

It’s a miracle he didn’t make himself sick.

You put a record on to fill the emptiness, trying to keep your mind busy with tasks and noise so you don’t have a moment to sit down and think too much. By the time you flip to the B side, the red velvet cake you made was decorated in a thick layer of cream cheese frosting. You haphazardly press sprinkles onto its surface as decoration, not trusting your ability to pipe lettering on it.

It’s decent enough, you remind yourself to set your perfectionism aside as you return it to the cake stand in the corner of the kitchen and set about fussing with the rest of your apartment.

It’s easy enough to distract yourself while you have things to do. You don’t rest, jumping from one thing to the next in a journey that leads you from washing the dishes in the sink to straightening up the couch cushions to folding every blanket strewn across your living room.

But you can only keep going so long.

Eventually you run out of tasks, or out of steam. You’re not sure which hit first as you allowed yourself to fall onto the couch with a huff. The dread comes rushing back all at once, nearly paralyzing you as you gather up one of the meticulously folded blankets and cover yourself with it.

No matter what, no matter how many birthdays come and go, you always feel the same devastation of the years going by. With a start you realize that this is your first birthday that you no longer consider your parent’s house your home. It startles you, making you think back in an attempt to identify when the last time you referred to it as your home was.

What are they doing now? Surely they are awake by now, but they haven’t called. Probably giving you privacy, not wanting to wake you up in case you had a wild night to kick off your birthday weekend. It was rare, but it could have happened.

You should call them, but the thought of even talking to your mom right now is making your throat close. It’s all too much, everything is going too fast. You still remember your fourth birthday party, the one with the fairies and the cheap wings made of coathangers and your mother’s old stockings that all the little kids decorated. It gets you thinking about how you used to make crowns with her out of construction paper, emblazoned with crayon butterflies.

A sob wrenches from you before you even realize you are crying, it’s a horrible strangled sound that you hardly recognize as your own. Tears blur your vision as you check the bedroom door, praying that Eddie hadn’t heard.

After a few moments without movement, you let the tears fall and the misery engulf you.

It’s confusingly irrational and rational at the same time, the contradiction eating you up inside as you consider having an annual crisis over the inevitable death of your parents while still actively having the crisis. Your hysterics feel ridiculous, you’re twenty-five now, your frontal cortex is fully developed and you should be able to move on with the idea that someday they will be gone.

Gone.

Jesus. You wonder if every child feels this way or if you are the only one. The soft cushions of the couch welcome you as you slouch onto them, shoulders shaking as your face wedges into the corner of the sofa. Once the floodgates are open you can’t stop them, thinking about how there will eventually be a day that it's the last time you speak with them and you’ll never know it until it already happens.

You helplessly remind yourself that you always tell them you love them before you hang up phone calls, before you leave their home after weekend get-togethers and holidays and family dinners. But will you regret not spending more time with them? Will you look back someday and wish that you had spent more of your fleeting moments with people that were all too temporary despite the fact that they meant everything to you?

Do people with siblings feel like this? The solitude that comes with the idea of the death of a parent? You don’t know, doomed to be an only child and always carrying the burden of it on your shoulders and your shoulders alone.

You don’t know how long this meltdown lasts, crying and crying and crying about grief that is yet to happen, regrets you don’t even know you will have. No matter how hard you try to be rational and firmly rooted in the present, you find yourself mourning people who are still alive every year on the day that should be a celebration.

A gentle hand on your spine startles you from the spiral of your thoughts, shame and grief and guilt fraying your nerves as you choke on a sob. You stiffen like you are electrocuted, your shoulders curling in as you compress closer to the back of the couch.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Eddie’s voice is still groggy from sleep, raspy and soft in all your favorite ways.

You can only imagine his confusion, he probably woke up expecting you to be reading a book or finishing up your birthday cake instead of burrowing into your couch in a fit of tears.

Eddie has never been around for the quiet parts of your birthday, the moments where you hide yourself away and wallow. You’ve been friends for ten years now, dating for two of them, but you’ve still managed to keep this secret in the hollow of your heart and bear your misery alone.

“It’s okay,” you exhale, the simple words a staccato as you try to catch your breath. Your face is soaked with tears, you keep it mashed against the couch as you try to stuff everything you’re feeling back into the neat little box it sprung from.

He lets out a soft breath, his fingertips start to move up and down from the base of your skull to where your ratty and holey pajama bottoms hug your hips. “If it’s okay then what are you doing out here crying?”

You know the second you face him the temporary dam you have managed to build will come crashing loose. Eddie nevertheless manages to squeeze his long fingers into the space between your shoulder and the fabric of the couch, slowly turning you on your back to face him.

He looks so sweet, his hair gathered in a loose bun at the nape of his neck and his brown eyes round with concern as he looks down at you. Instead of sitting on the couch he’s kneeling next to it, his face closer to yours than you anticipated. You’re sure you look like a disaster, skin red and splotchy and eyes bloodshot. No matter how many times you rub the back of your hand across it you can’t stop your nose from running like a faucet and your lips are so swollen.

Eddie cups your cheek with a calloused hand, rubbing your tears away with his thumb as his brows furrow. “C’mon, baby, talk to me.”

The plea is so genuine that you immediately whine despite your attempts to steel yourself against your emotions. You burst into an additional round of tears, crying so hard that you are nearly choking. Despite your attempt to explain, your words are unintelligible, distorted by your sobs.

Eddie’s arms curl around you, warm even through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt. With no help on your part, he manages to pry you off the couch and into his lap, cradling you against the seat of the couch. As always, he just knows what to do.

He coaxes your head to find the curve of his neck, his fingers caressing the back of your skull as he remains silent. Rather than try to understand what’s going on right now, he just lets you cry it out.

Your tears soak into the back fabric of his cut off Metallica shirt, your arms winding around his torso as you cling to him. Eddie is so solid, he always has been when it comes to you. After knowing one another for a decade, he knows how to handle your storms, how to bring them down to a manageable size and get the gray clouds to go away.

Eventually the sobs slow, you take greedy pulls of air as your fingers twist in the fraying bottom edge of the shirt Eddie is wearing. He claimed there was something he found overstimulating about where the hem originally landed on his lanky frame, cutting it so slivers of his pale stomach were visible any time he moved. Your fingers pressed along the line of skin just above where the elastic of his boxers hung low.

“Do you, uh, just ever think about how everyone is gonna die?” In retrospect, you’re not sure if that’s how you’d phrase the question. It comes out mumbled and wet-sounding against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut as you attempt to explain.

He hums his acknowledgment, leaving you empty space to fill. It’s the telltale way he pulls things from you, knowing that if he doesn’t say anything you will babble to fill that silence.

“It’s stupid.” You squish yourself closer, briefly wishing that you could just sit inside his skin. “I just, uh, always think about how, like, when I get older on my birthday that everyone else gets older too?” The way you say it makes it sound like a question rather than a statement.

Again, just a sound of acknowledgement.

“It just is so shitty that everything goes so fast and my parents are getting older and someday I won’t have them and even though I’m older now I don’t even know anything and I have no idea how to do anything without them,” you babble, your gasping breaths interrupting the stream of consciousness spilling from you.

Now that you’ve started you can’t stop. “It’s like my birthday is a marker for how much time is changing and it feels so fast and I’m not ready to be by myself and get even older.” A few tears squeeze out of your eyes, your fingertips pressing into his torso.

“Why am I like this?” you whisper, the question defeated and soft.

“Because you are the most caring person I know, baby,” he murmurs in response, his arms winding around you completely as his hands rub up and down your arms. His cheek squishes into the crown of your head, his warm breath against your scalp. “But nothing is happening yet, and I know the way your brain works makes it feel so real to you even though it’s not real. It will be someday, but you can’t think about it like this right now.”

You nod slowly, trying to take deep breaths. The years of anxiety and guilt and paralyzing fear seem to melt away under his reassurance. “Never talked about this with anyone before,” you mumble into him, feeling deflated.

“You don’t have to do everything by yourself, baby,” Eddie says, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head. The two of you are in a tangle of limbs on the floor of your living room, holding each other close.

You nod against him, the simmering pot of emotions finally slowing down. “I love you,” you say, your words sounding thick and wet and so small.

“I love you too.” The way Eddie says it, you can hear his smile.

You don’t know why you keep this all to yourself, why you let everything bottle up and the emotions consume you. But you’re so thankful that it’s Eddie you have to talk to.

You finally lift your head, lip wobbling as you look up at him with wet eyes. His pink mouth is twisted into a smile, a kiss stamped against your forehead. “There you are,” he murmurs, a tinge of excitement in his tone like he just won a game of hide and seek. A hand comes up to wipe away the tears slicked across your cheeks, his calloused fingertips rough against your skin.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Eddie says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The cliff you were teetering on feels so far away now, your ribs no longer cracking apart under the weight of your guilt.

“Thank you,” you whisper, a sheepish smile settling on your face as you tilt your head up toward his. Eddie presses his lips to yours without hesitation, a hand caressing your jaw as he kisses you with such a fervor that you don’t think you can ever deny the fact that this boy loves you.

His brown eyes are soft as you pull apart, flicking over your face before settling on your gaze. “Now, how about we get dressed and go get some birthday waffles from the diner,” Eddie suggests, nudging your cheek with his nose. “Your mom told me she always makes you waffles for your birthday, but with my luck I’d probably burn your kitchen down.”

You laugh, Eddie’s expression coloring with pride as the sound rattles from you. “Yeah, okay, let’s go,” you murmur, nodding as you start to stand.

Eddie joins you, looping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you to the bedroom of your apartment. He keeps pressing kisses to your forehead, whispering little quips to you that keep earning peals of laughter.

He’d bend over backwards or lasso the sun just to make you smile, and you realize that Eddie is your favorite present this year.

[wolven91]

Human Guardian - One Size Fits All

Jon's radio crackled to life on his hip.

"Jon, can you get across to the 'Emmalis' sector please. We have an urgent escort request." Came dispatch's dispassionate and clinical tone.

The human grunted as he lifted with his knees to put the box that he was running inventory on, back onto the shelf where it belonged. With it safely secured he grabbed for the radio and thumbed the button for him to speak.

"Jon confirms, heading to Emmalis now."

"Acknowledged" Came the immediate reply.

He returned the radio to his hip and began a swift march to the part of the station which hosted the shorter alien delegates. It had been a busy week, it felt like every race had turned up all at once and realistically it wasn't far off the mark to say that. It was the first time since the circus when Jon had first passed the Guardian Initiative selection process that it had been this busy.

Apparently there was a summit of some kind coming up and with the impressive range of creatures appearing on station, both great and small, Jon ,like his colleagues was being run ragged. Most Guardian work wasn't actually being dedicated to a single person. At least, not for a Guardian who stayed on one station. Jon's role was to just being a helpful, welcoming presence. If there was a job to do that helped the station, he was there for it.

He smiled, nodded, waved or gave short cheerful banter to the other aliens he passed on his way. Most wore the similar blue and yellow jumpsuits of Guardians, or the grey and white of maintenance. These corridors being off limits to other creatures that weren't part of the station's staff. Plenty of vulnerable points in these sections, unwise to let crowds of people into the access corridors.

The access corridors ran to every corner of the station, regardless of who's sector it was or which race occupied those quarters. Staff would always be able to reach a delegate or guest in rapid time compared to those who had to use the more formal and fancy public walkways. The warren of tunnels weren't a secret, but like the 'Disneyland' of old, they weren't readily acknowledged by station as a whole. It was easier to just be as unobtrusive as one could be while playing host to the other races.

As Jon reached the 'Emmalis' sector, the half of the station that hosted much smaller races than the majority, he slipped on his 'Escort Harness' and showed his security card to the reader.

As he waited for approval and when his harness secured, he grabbed at his radio and thumbed the button again.

"Jon at Emmalis Sector, Subdoor 'Itty bitty'."

"Acknowledged. Stop calling it 'Itty Bitty', it's the 'Ikit Bitaris' entrance." Came a different voice from the radio, but none-the-less as formal as the last.

The light flicked from red to green and the bulkhead's bolt snapped open allowing Jon to walk through the door and into the 'airlock' checkpoint. A glass booth with a canid guard sat at a desk gave him a courtesy glance before allowing him to step forward.

"Mornin' Jon." The guard drawled. "You got a delegate needing to get to the council room early, 'parently it's urgent."

Jon nodded and shrugged.

"That's fine, are they ready to go?"

"Yeah, 'got their whiskers in a twist so don't wait around."

Jon stepped through the now open sliding door to see a pair of chintians waiting together on a raised platform. Chintians were one foot tall, furred or even spined mammalians. They reminded Jon of meerkats or perhaps chinchillas? Or some demented mixer of the two. The human gave a mental shrug. All the races could be compared to old Earth fauna, but you'd think yourself mad as none of them ever fit the mould 'perfectly'. There was always too many differences to say, 'you are a bipedal X'. Christ the taurians looked like cows and bulls but were carnivorous! Ever seen a cow with a set of teeth that would be better suited to a shark? It causes the mind to lurch.

The two chintians had delegate badges pinned to their belts and turned to the human as he passed through the checkpoint. As Jon stepped up, he turned his back on the delegate and stood still. This was all protocol, they had done this before and so had he.

The two chintians clambered up onto the various hand and foot holds of the harness that Jon wore and settled themselves.

Jon waited a moment before stepping away from the platform, at first taking practised care not to go too fast or jostle the harness that had countless loops sewn into the fabric allowing for easy grabbing and carrying of the smaller races, but there was still a knack to not jostling passengers. They simply hung on and Jon, or any escort, would carry them to their destination. This way, the smaller species didn't need to worry about being hit or accidently kicked by the larger or perhaps unobservant others.

Too many diplomatic incidents had happened and all parties involved considered this an acceptable resolution.

"We need to go fast! We must be there fast!`` Came the voice of one of the chintians, over his left shoulder. He felt the weight shift as the creature clambered up the harness with ease.

"Do you consent to running? Do you understand the risks and dangers of this action?" Jon asked, hoping they'd agree.

"Yes yes! Speed is needed!" the voice confirmed.

Jon began to sprint. Avoiding the busier paths, he kept to the edges of the corridors which were usually left empty for exactly the reason Jon was using them. Go-fors, messengers, assistants. They could always been seen scuttling from one location to the others, whilst those not on a time crunch could meander in the middle of the corridors.

He made good time to the centre of the station. From afar, the giant central council room looked like a crown jewel of the station. It was truly gigantic and often would have fog or clouds develop inside due to the sheer size of it.

He crouched and dropped off the delegate who thumbed a tip for Jon, but said nothing as he scuttled away from view and into a room.

Jon shrugged and mentally asked himself what he needed to do next and how to get there the quickest.

He was interrupted as his radio crackled to life again, he grabbed at it before the voice finished speaking.

"Jon? You done with that Escort?" Came the voice of a priority dispatcher, distinct as they were more like 'Account Managers', dealing with those who pay extra for services and their role was to ensure the higher paying guests were served in the right manner.

"Yeah, he's arrived."

"You got a 'Ursidain' request, a request by name this time. You've made an impression with folk."

Jon's face scrunched in puzzlement. He wasn't aware anyone even knew him. Although the name tag's all over his uniform would not lend him any anonymity.

"Got an idea as to what it is?" Jon asked as he jogged towards an access corridor to take the shortest route to the ursidain quarters. It shouldn't take long, he'd just circumvent the Council Hall.

"It's an ursidain called Fon, she sounded a bit distressed? Does it ring any bells?"

The realisation hit Jon like a bucket of cold water.

"Ah, yeah, I dealt with her last week. She's got hefty anxiety. It's likely I'm going to be 'booked' for the rest of the day."

"Cool, no problems, I'll ready 'double pay' if you're engaged through a break or the end of your shift."

Jon wrapped up the conversation and eventually made it to the ursidain quarters.

His next role was almost certainly going to be a 'Support' role. Even some of the larger species on the station had a habit of being nervous like everyone else. On a confined, diplomatic station, it was better to devote resources to calming them down then let them work themselves up.

Jon had met this 'Fon' a couple of weeks back, a mature giantess of a teddy bear, but one with pretty severe anxiety. As it turned out however, having Jon nearby, simply holding her paw or rather being held in her paws, was enough to keep her calm. He'd made the error at the end of his work to try and reassure her that everything was fine, she hadn't been a nuisance and if she needed him; he wouldn't mind.

Jon never thought for a second that she'd actually ask for him, let alone pay through the nose for him specifically to come help her. She must have serious cash to be able to not only request him by name, but double pay due to a person request is paid for by the person who made the request.

Exiting the next checkpoint, he didn't have a chance to even look round before a massive thick paw appeared and snatched him from his own raised platform, the environment now designed for creatures far larger than a human. He was immediately pressed into a sea of thick and soft brown fur. He had to tilt his head backwards just to give himself the space to breathe as a second giant paw began to rapidly stroke his hair again and again as a deluge of words poured from a frantic, motherly voice far above the trapped human.

"Oh I'm so glad you're here! I was so worried! The speech is coming up and I don't know if it'll go well and I suddenly got a feeling that something had already gone wrong! And then I thought about you and was worried the feeling was to do with you! It was-"

"I'm fine! It's okay! Take a breath!" Jon cut in; his voice strained as his ribs creaked from the pressure of being squeezed into the matronly Fon.

Two giant bellows beneath the fur and flesh that Jon was still being pressed into began to inflate, it was humbling to feel such massive biological machine work as he was pressed into it.

The bellows deflated in a loud sigh above him.

"I'm sorry Jon. Do you need me to put you down? I-I-I can go without you if you're busy?"

Jon mentally kicked himself for not taking the opportunity to escape, but he was a resolute professional. He was one of the very first human guardians and he was glad to be the one that showed the aliens that whatever they can do; humans can too.

"No, I've nothing else to do today." He lied. "When your call came in I was twiddling my thumbs, you know?"

The pressure increased again as he was swung from side to side by the giant bear-like alien.

"Oh I'm so glad! You could sit on my lap while the speech is given! Oh that would help so so much! Thank you thank you!"

He was pulled from the chest and brought up to a familiar face, that had puckered its lips before planting them firmly against his face. The 'light' suction nearly pulled his entire head in between those lips before they disconnected with a dramatic 'mwah' and he was returned to a galactic sized bear hug and it felt like they were moving again. He rubbed the wetness from his face as the voice spoke up again, vibrating him as it rumbled through the giant's body.

"I'll get some snacks, and a blanket and we'll make it all cosy in my delegate booth!"

Jon tilted his head at that. The delegates, especially the ursidain ones,did always get the nicest food after all.

[nixie-writes]

So could you do a continuation of the "their s/o dies during childbirth" with alastor, husk, and sir pentious, when their kids are a bit older they ask what their other parent was like before they died then after the question is answered the kid leaves the room to do something else and alastor, husk, and sir pentious just silently cry by themselves

istg this ask has been eaten by my inbox so many times I'm so happy to answer it in time.

Alastor

-on your 5th birthday Alastor bought you a purple teddy bear. It was reminiscent of your mother's favorite toy before she passed, and he told you how much she loved the color purple and how much she adored stuffed animals.

-you finally popped the question, asking what your mother was like. He told you she was very kind but reserved and always had nice words for everyone in the staff. She went out of her way to be nice to those who may not have even deserved it and she touched his heart when she told him he had a lovely smile.

-you hugged your teddy bear and ran off to show it to Charlie, who cooed at how sweet you were. Alone with an aching heart Alastor put his face in his hands and allowed his smile to lie flat, a single tear adorning his face. He missed her.

Husk

-as a treat Husk took you to a small diner and let you order the most expensive food. He's loaded so of course he could pay for it. Though he couldn't help but notice you ordered your mother's favorite meal with a cup of chocolate milk and it broke his heart. When you turned to him and asked if your mother liked this food his heart tore in half.

-he told you your mother was always looking for new things to try and loved to see and try new food, drinks and decorations. He assured you that she loved the food you picked. When you stood up to put a quarter in the jukebox he just sighed, feeling tears well in his eyes. He knew it was unhealthy to keep thinking of her so long after her death but you were her spit image.

Sir Pentious

-it was the first machine you'd ever built. A cotton candy mixer with a slushy maker. Your mother loved cotton candy. He clapped and complimented your machine, telling you that you did a wonderful job and he was proud. You then asked if your mother would have liked the machine.

-he told you that your mother loved cotton candy and other sweets and would have adored your machine. He patted you on the head and sent you off to show your machine to the eggs. Alone he curled up into himself, allowing a few stray tears. Good God how he missed her.

[sachirobabe]

Chapter 9

Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

Wc: 2596

Summary: You, a dedicated member of the girls' volleyball team, find an unexpected connection with Kuroo Tetsurou. Igniting a bond over shared passions and stolen moments, love blossoms on the court; all because you met him at a captains meeting.

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Taglist: @merlucide, @lemurzsquad, @02shuuu, @michakune, @ivy-taylorsversion, @scinclaitnoir, @v-e-r-t21, @siheez, @bakugouswaif, @sinistereotypes, @chao01248, @rivui

You lied. You did not have a cookie recipe you wanted to try. So why were you doing all this? For him to come over and spend more time with you?

'We're just friends.' You keep repeating to yourself, almost trying to convince your mind (and heart). You woke up a little earlier, due to your parents farewell. It felt nice to be home alone for a bit.

You laid back in bed, going on TikTok to try and find an interesting cookie recipe. Of course, it didn't take long. There were many recipes being shared online and you found one that seemed easy enough. It did require you to make a quick trip to the grocery store.

The thought of him being in your house, and maybe even your room suddenly made you a little anxious. You quickly ran around and frantically tidied up every single crevice of your house, wanting it perfect.

The knock on your front door made you come to a halt, you unknowingly fix your hair and open the door. "Hey, come in." You smile and move to the side so he could enter.

He gives you a warm smile as he came in and let his eyes wander, "Hey. Thanks for inviting me." He took his shoes off.

"Yeah, I figured baking cookies alone would be boring." You smile at him and lead him to the kitchen.

He chuckles, "I don't bake often, so don't make fun of me if I suck." He likes the way your house is decorated, there were family photos scattered and he wished he could get up close to see a younger version of you.

"It's easy. I'll be here so my house won't burn down." You joke and he shakes his head. You liked seeing him outside of his school uniform and volleyball clothes. It felt like this sight of him is for your eyes only.

"Okay, I'm not that bad." He laughs and watches you take out some bowls. "Can I—uh get some things? I feel bad just standing here."

"You can get the wet ingredients." You tell him what he needs to find in the fridge and he puts them on the counter. He gets to mixing and is doing a good job, he doesn't spill or over measure anything.

You did the dry ingredients and then poured them both into a bigger bowl and let the mixer do its job. "Isn't this kinda of cheating?" He chuckles, watching the mixer work through the dough.

"No." You laugh, "It just makes it easier."

"I don't know, I feel like I'd be old fashioned and mix without it." His eyes meet yours and he feels the all-too-familiar thump against his chest.

"But it gives me time to preheat the oven and prepare the pans." You counter, smiling softly as he looks at your features.

"I guess so. You got me." Kuroo rests his elbows on the counter and looks into the mixer. "Smells good." He notes.

"I can't wait to eat them." You hum and agree. "It's taking everything in me to not eat the cookie dough."

"Well, let's try it together." He grins and grabs two small spoons, scooping a pea sized amount for you. His tongue savors the flavor of the cookie dough, he knows it's bad for you and the two of you could potentially get sick, but it's worth seeing your pleased face.

"These might be my best cookies yet." You chuckle, the oven was preheated. It beeped to let you know. "I'll show you how to get the pans ready and how much to scoop." You move around the kitchen with ease.

He listens intently, matching your actions. He's starting to get the hang of it and scoops the perfect size for each ball. "This is actually very therapeutic." He chuckles, a lopsided grin on his face. The soft music playing in the background really topped it all off.

You agree with him and open the oven carefully, making sure you weren't going to get burned while putting the trays in. "Now it's time for the boring part. Dishes." You sigh and shut the oven, putting a timer to check on them.

"I've got them." Kuroo says, already turning the faucet on.

"No arguments here." You raised your hands up and he laughs, you sit on the counter chair in front of him. Your mind goes to volleyball, it's second nature to think about.

Kuroo notices you've gone quiet, but decided not to ask about it. He washed the dishes with ease, stealing glances at you occasionally. "Do you think Daishou's team is better than us?" He speaks up after a few minutes.

You give him a confused look, "Who's Daishou?"

"Right," He chuckles, forgetting you're not that familiar with the boys' names on other teams. "He plays for Nohebi academy? He kinda looks like a snake."

You let out a laugh, "How can someone look like a snake?"

"He just does." He chuckles with you.

"Oh, wait, are they the team with green and yellow?" You ask, "Yeah—their ace, he kinda has curly hair."

Kuroo shook his head, "You're thinking about Itachiyama." He flashed a smile, "They're the other green and yellow team. Their jerseys are more lame."

"Oh, yeah. I think I know who you're talking about." You hum and think hard. "Their girls' team never makes it past the first round."

He nods slowly, "Well, their boys' team is annoyingly good."

"Not as good at you guys." You smile.

"I mean, we've been beat by them the last few years." He rubs his neck and sighs. "I think I'm just worried."

"I've seen how you guys play, you're really tough. I'm sure beating a snake boy and his team won't be an issue." You say to him.

"I really hope so." He sighs, "I just want to play Karasuno at nationals."

"That's all? You don't want to win?" You chuckle.

"I mean, obviously, but I want to beat them." He says determined.

You hum, liking this competitive side of him. "I'll be there to cheer you on." You say, but then quickly realize how that sounded, "You—uh, you know, like me and the girls—we'll cheer you on, and of course your teammates!"

He smiles big at your words, "Thank you, it means more than you know." He says, and it's true. If you're out there cheering him on, that's more than enough motivation for him.

"You guys will do great." You smile, finally calming back down. "If not this June, there's always January."

He lets out a soft sigh, "Yeah...that does make me feel a little better." The oven dings, just in time as the conversation dwindled down. "I've got them." Kuroo says and puts on the oven mitts.

"Thanks." You smile and put out a cool down rack for the two batches. The smell filled your home, making your stomach grumble.

"I don't know if I have the self control in me to not eat them right now." He says seriously as he took out the second pan.

"No," You chuckle, "C'mon, you're supposed to be the strong one and tell me we have to wait for them to cool down."

He laughs loudly, "We're both the same, huh?" And you give him a sheepish look, he shook his head and led you out of the kitchen so the two of you wouldn't be tempted to eat them piping hot. "We need to distract ourselves for at least 10 minutes."

You hum excitedly, "Oh! I have just the thing." You say and this time you're leading him upstairs, towards your room. You're so glad you decided to clean your room beforehand.

He follows you upstairs, his eyes taking in everything as he passes by. When he steps into your room, he can't stop a goofy grin forming on his face. He looks around and he thinks he's silently getting to know you even more by just your decorations.

As you turn around, you notice his eyes absorbing the details of your room and softly smile, 'He looks so cute.' You say to yourself, you bring his attention back to you as you're holding something up.

"Is that paint?" He chuckles and asks, taking the box from you.

You nod excitedly, "I got it as a gift a long time ago, but I've never gotten around to paint it." He looks at the ceramic piece, it was a book vase with words on it and flowers.

"I'm not sure you want me painting." He says grinning, "I'm not a very good artist."

You shake your head, "C'mon, it'll be fun! I'll show you how to make it look good."

That was all the convincing he needed, "Alright, I'm in." He smiles widely and follows you back downstairs. He's sitting at the coffee table in the living room, you gave him the controller for the tv and he's scrolling through different movies.

You came back with the supplies needed for watercoloring and sat next to him. He let you do the unboxing, he didn't trust himself with doing it because with you being so close he thinks he'll accidentally rip open the box and drop the ceramic.

He finishes picking the movie. Satisfied with his choice, thinking it'll impress you. He listens intently just like before when you give him instructions on how to paint the ceramic.

"If I do bad, what will you do with it?" He chuckles as he nervously dips his brush in the water.

"But what if you do good?" You challenge, "Either way, they're going on my bookshelf."

He feels his heart do leaps and can't stop a light blush dusting his cheeks, "I noticed you have quite the collection on books. You like reading?"

You hum and begin painting, "Yeah, I do. Some of its manga, though." You say.

"That still counts." He shrugs, "I don't read, like ever."

"It's fun." You smile at him, "I used to read a lot more a couple years ago, now I just try to when I get the chance."

"Volleyball and school is a lot." He agrees.

"What do you like to do on your free time?" You ask curiously. "Besides play volleyball."

He chuckles, "I play video games with friends." He pauses his painting for a second to think. "I also like working out and fixing up cars with my dad."

"Oh really? You like car guy stuff?" You chuckle.

He hums, "I'm not, like, crazy about it, but yeah. It's fun to do, and gives me time to spend with my dad."

"That's cool." You smile, "What about your mom? What do you like to do with her?"

He's quiet for a moment before answering, "She's not really in the picture." As the words leave his mouth, he's worried it'll create an awkward atmosphere between the two of you.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for bringing it up." You freeze your hands in mid-action.

He waves you off, he knows he had nothing to worry about, you were great girl. "It's okay, she and my dad divorced when we moved next door to Kenma." He explains.

You're hesitant with your next question, but ask anyway, "Do you...miss her sometimes?"

He stops painting completely and looks at you, "Not really. I try not to, why waste sadness on her, you know? She made her decision." He can feel himself get annoyed just thinking about his absent mother.

"That's understandable." You nod, "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay." He smiles, he feels his annoyance dwindle down and all he's doing is looking at you and your pretty self.

"I know I can't understand fully how that feels, but I did grow up with Himari and her dad sounds just like your mom." You say, "That kind of hurt—I've seen it, I helped Himari through it." You give him a comforting smile.

"Thank you." He returns one back to you, "My dad and I are good. Way better than when she was there, to be honest." He chuckles and continues to paint. The last person he's opened up to about that was Kenma, and even then, he struggled to feel fully comfortable to tell him. That's just not the case with you, he physically has to stop himself from rambling on.

You nod and continue painting as well, "So, tell me more about these cars you fix up with your dad?"

His eyes glimmer as he thinks about it, you can tell he enjoys talking about it. He doesn't get to do it much because nobody else on the team is really interested, "Right now, we're fixing up my car for when I turn 18."

"Oh really? That's exciting." You smile.

He hums happily, "It's vintage and real nice, it's coming along great."

"I'd love to see it when it's finished." You chuckle.

"We've been working on it for a year, we try to every weekend." He says.

"Oh, does that mean you didn't get to this weekend? I'm sorry—" You begin to say and he interrupts you.

"Don't sweat it," He smiles, "I wanted to spend this time with you." He says and his face immediately gets hot, he can't even hide it.

"You sure?" You ask and he's thanking whoever is above because you're busy painting your bookvase, and not his embarrassed face.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He says, "Besides, he was tired from work, anyways.”

"That makes me feel a lot better." You chuckle. "Oh, cookies should be done. I'll be back." You say and quickly stand up.

"Need any help?" He asks.

"It's okay! I'll be back in a sec." You say from the kitchen and he nods. In a few minuets, you're back with a large plate and some milk.

He wipes his hands and he grabs one, his self control crumbling at the sight and smell of the cookies. He takes a bite and lets out a satisfied hum. "It's delicious." He says and eats it in two bites.

"Yeah, these are definitely my best." You say and agree as you let the cookie savor in your mouth.

"Can I take a few of these back home?" He chuckles as he finishes with his third cookie.

"Sure, but I gotta save at least two for Himari. She'll kill me if I don't." You say and he sets aside two, knowing if they were on the plate, he'd eat them in seconds.

The two of you talked, painted, and ate cookies for a few hours. Everything felt so natural with him, you're having so much fun.

It was starting to get late and he needed to get back home to eat dinner with his dad. "Thank you, again, for inviting me over." He says, his hands in his pocket as he stands in front of your door.

"Of course," You smile, "I had a lot of fun."

"I did, too." He mirrors your smile, his heart flutters in his chest and his knees feel like they're going to give out. "See you at school?"

You nod and hand him a small bag of cookies, "Yeah, I'll see you. Goodnight, Tetsurou.

"Goodnight, Y/n. Sleep well, yeah?" He says behind him and catches a glimpse of your cute nod and smile.

You don't think you can convince yourself anymore that you're not falling for him. You practically melt into a puddle as you shut the door behind you and locked it up for the night. Himari will have a field day with this.

[celery-juice]

The Big List Of Visual Novel Recs

I fuckin love visual novels, I see one I go 💗💗💗 All of these can be played on PC, a lot of them are free or cheap. I might miss some Trigger Warnings so you should definitely check the store pages yourself

Recently added games are in yellow :]

Dating Sims

Blooming Panic Itch.io Free - "Depressed day-in and day-out from a draining corporate job, you become invested in a fantasy webnovel and find a mysterious link to a fan server. Everyone is warm and welcoming, but four members take a special interest in you!" TW for depression

Jester Under Pressure Itch.io Free - "Diskarte, jester of the high castle, has one job: entertaining the queen. This would be easy except Queen Bahaghari has a penchant for magically exploding the heads of subjects falling below her exacting standards. Can Diskarte avoid this frightening fate?" TW for death, war, and one incident of self-harm (not shown)

Our Life: Beginning and Always Steam Itch.io Free - "A twenty-dollar bill, four summers, fifteen years, and a one of a kind life. Create an experience that’s all your own in this near-fully customizable visual novel where you grow from childhood to adulthood with the lonely boy next door."

Amarantus Steam Itch.io $17.99 - "Arik's been told two things all his life: a tyrant is ruling the country, and somebody needs to do something. Now forced to flee his house after a midnight attack, his parents captured and his house torched—maybe somebody means you. It's time to gather a party, head to the capital, and take the Lord down. Along the journey, this crew of old friends and new strangers will grow closer—or further apart—as your choices guide Arik to win friends, make enemies, play matchmaker, and break hearts."

Saint Spells Itch.io Free - "Join us in our special Valentine’s day release of Saint Spell’s very own dating simulator! In your first week of school, meet 29 magical students, practice some special spells, brew a love potion, or simply slack off…" 

Best Friend Forever Steam Itch.io $19.99 - "Pat the dogs... and then their owners. Step into the world of Rainbow Bay in Best Friend Forever, a dating sim-meets-dog care sim where you pat, pamper and train your pup while you search for your own forever friend."

Speed Dating for Ghosts Steam Itch.io $6.99 - "As a lonely specter looking for love in the afterlife, you attend a speed dating event and chat up a cemetery's worth of phantoms, wraiths, and poltergeists. At the end of the spooky mixer, choose your favorite! They'll take you out to all the best haunts: old folks' homes, creepy houses with new owners... Maybe solving a murder is your idea of a good time. Or robbing a bank. Ghosts are into all sorts of things."

The Ratchelor Itch.io Website Free - "Play as The Ratchelor, an eligible single rat looking for love. You'll get to know each of our 21 lovely contestants through intimate conversation. Round after round, you will choose who to eliminate, leaving only your most compatible rat suitors. Finally, at the end of your emotional journey, you will find your rat soulmate."

Someone Stole My Lunch! Itch.io Free - "A short comedy visual novel about your lunch and a thief... both of which are hot." TW for screen shakes

Cooked with Love Itch.io Free - "Perry is, to put it nicely, a bit of a mess. So they can hardly believe their luck when their crush, Lily, agrees to go on a date with them! When the day of the date rolls around, Perry's all set: they've scrounged up some cash, and got a reservation at the nicest restaurant in town. Except... where's their wallet? With nothing left to lose but their dignity, Perry's determined to whip up a fantastic dining experience at home. Sure, they've never cooked before, but how hard could it be, right?"

Cupid Date Itch.io Free - "A short visual novel about three and a half 'love stories' starring a gay alien boy named Kale, whose matchmaking roommate Sugar is determined to help him find true love. But when Sugar's a cupid with his own agenda and all Kale's potential soulmates are under a spell, can love really be all that true?" TW for attempted suicide, depression, and mind control

Dialtown Steam $7.99 - "If you've ever wanted to romantically pursue a phone, then hot DARN, do I have just the game for you."

Hooked on You: A Dead By Daylight Dating Sim Steam $9.99 - "Welcome to Murderer’s Island. Your companions: four dead-sexy Killers who, underneath their murderous exteriors, just want a little romance. Flirt your way into their hearts, uncovering dark twists along the way. Will you find true love, forge friendships… or get hacked to death?" TW for blood, violent threats, referenced murder

Later Daters Steam Itch.io $14.99 on Steam, $15.99 on Itch - "Welcome to Ye OLDE! Your new retirement paradise. Date as an octogenarian and find somebody to love, or just get your kicks in while the getting is good. Remember, if the chairs are rockin', don’t come a-knockin." TW for mentioned death (by old age) and mentioned transphobia from family members

Pinewood Island Steam Itch.io $9.99 - "Find love, solve a murder, and prevent more death in this murder-mystery horror otome | visual novel." TW for drinking, stalking, attempted sexual assault, suicide, attempted suicide, and murder

Meeting in the Flesh Itch.io Free - "Meeting in the Flesh is a free horror/romance visual novel. You play as Vil, the resident of a strange but friendly little city, encountering various people and getting the chance to court one of three different monstrous suitors. Though the game will include some body horror imagery, the game is a romance at its core, with a focus on getting to know and growing closer to your partner. It features romantic scenes that can be toggled between a PG-13 and R rating." TW for body horror

Today, I'm Harvesting You! Itch.io Free - "Very poor and very tired of being single, you set out for your day with one goal: change both of those things, no matter the cost!!" TW for murder, chibi dismembering, organ selling

STOP BURYING ME ALIVE, BEAUTIFUL Itch.io Free - "You wake up to your girlfriend burying you alive, and she won't be convinced that you aren't dead. One of several problems, it turns out, as you find yourself dealing with rats trying to take a few early bites out of you! And just who is the girl talking to you from underground?"

Slasher U Steam Itch.io Free - "A horror-comedy dating sim RPG with full-blown sex mechanics, tons of heartwrenching romance and friendship storylines, and a wicked sick 90's theme sure to make even the most deep-fried saw dungeon aesthetics/dick jokes fans jealous."

Chill Fun

Butterfly Soup Itch.io Free - "A visual novel about gay asian girls playing baseball and falling in love." TW for ableist slurs and brief written depictions of parental physical and emotional abuse

Syrup And The Ultimate Sweet Itch.io Free - "SYRUP AND THE ULTIMATE SWEET is a visual novel made for YuriJam 2015! it's about a candy alchemist, syrup, who one day finds a candy golem in her basement workshop. where did she come from?? who the heck made her????? GO FIND OUT!! did i mention there are 10 endings because. that's right. 10 endings."

Lonely People Potion Shop Itch.io Free - "Somewhere deep inside the magical forest forgotten lies a hut, a potion shop! The creatures of the lands near and far come visit this tiny place sharing their stories, feelings, thoughts on the mystery that's about to unravel... And it's your job to pour 'em some potions!"

The Murder of Sonic The Hedgehog Steam Free - "Sonic the Hedgehog...was murdered!? Get to the bottom of the mystery in this brand-new adventure!"

The Ratchelor Itch.io Website Free - "Play as The Ratchelor, an eligible single rat looking for love. You'll get to know each of our 21 lovely contestants through intimate conversation. Round after round, you will choose who to eliminate, leaving only your most compatible rat suitors. Finally, at the end of your emotional journey, you will find your rat soulmate."

The Ratchelor 2 Website Free - Another season of The Ratchelor with all new characters!

Speed Dating for Ghosts Steam Itch.io $6.99 - "As a lonely specter looking for love in the afterlife, you attend a speed dating event and chat up a cemetery's worth of phantoms, wraiths, and poltergeists. At the end of the spooky mixer, choose your favorite! They'll take you out to all the best haunts: old folks' homes, creepy houses with new owners... Maybe solving a murder is your idea of a good time. Or robbing a bank. Ghosts are into all sorts of things."

I love my follower (count) Itch.io Free - "You are an Eldritch horror, summoned to the human realm. You’re soon to realize, however, that you have more in common with your followers than you thought - they, too, have a longing for The Void. The Void in their case is, however, mostly something they call ‘y2k’ and ‘retro anime aesthetics’.But oh well, every god needs clout."

Creature in the Corner Itch.io Free - "AND IT SEEMS HUNGRY. YOUR CHOICES WILL DECIDE WHAT THE CREATURE CONSUMES (HOPEFULLY NOT YOU)." TW for possibly being eaten

Sad Shit

He Fucked The Girl Out of Me Steam Itch.io Free - "A semi-autobiographical narrative visual novel about trauma and sex work made for the gameboy. The author explains how sex work impacted her life and changed her perception of the world. The game takes approximately 40 minutes to play from start to finish." TW for dubious consent, disassociation, transphobia from family members, sissy kink, misogyny/transmisogyny

Milk inside a bag of milk inside a bag of milk Steam Itch.io $1 - "A short story about what sort of challenges everyday little things can be. Help the girl buy milk, be the first not to disappoint her." TW for parental abuse

if not us Itch.io $7.00 - "Seven years ago, five heroes were brought together to save the world. Their success came at the cost of their leader's life; the secret behind it cost them their friendship. Now they've been summoned for a new heroic quest. if not us is about the moment when they realise everything isn't going to be okay." TW for death, including of the player character

Horror

Today, I'm Harvesting You! Itch.io Free - "Very poor and very tired of being single, you set out for your day with one goal: change both of those things, no matter the cost!!" TW for murder, chibi dismembering, organ selling

(Don't) Open Your Eyes Itch.io Free - "A short, horror-themed Visual Novel about a midnight encounter with a mysterious being. Through conversation, you'll learn more about them, such as their journey so far, or what they think about themselves. And every now and then, it'll make a simple request out of you: to open your eyes."

Don't Toy With Me Itch.io Free - "For a long time now, Dahlia has lived by herself in the Dollhouse with only the stuffed rabbit Wisker for company. One day the owner of the toys decides to present her with a new companion, a sad clown puppet named Huxley. She's delighted for the company but, as the owner soon realizes, it's not so simple to introduce a new friend to the household." TW for manipulation, emotional abuse, murder, violence, body horror with non-human characters

Milk inside a bag of milk inside a bag of milk Steam Itch.io $1 - "A short story about what sort of challenges everyday little things can be. Help the girl buy milk, be the first not to disappoint her." TW for parental abuse

Therapy with Dr. Albert Krueger Itch.io Free - "Has work been feeling more tiring than usual? Your mood, confusing and uneasy? Losing the confidence to speak up when you want to? Then it sounds like you need our newly patented ★DREAM THERAPY★!" TW for jumpscares, loud noises, disturbing and flashing images, implied violence, and cartoon gore

Meeting in the Flesh Itch.io Free - "Meeting in the Flesh is a free horror/romance visual novel. You play as Vil, the resident of a strange but friendly little city, encountering various people and getting the chance to court one of three different monstrous suitors. Though the game will include some body horror imagery, the game is a romance at its core, with a focus on getting to know and growing closer to your partner. It features romantic scenes that can be toggled between a PG-13 and R rating." TW for body horror

Find Love or Die Trying Steam Itch.io Free - "It's the premiere of our new dating show, where ending up single... means ending up dead! Not sure why you'd sign up for this, but now that you're here, you've got 7 days to get one of the lovely ladies on your tropical island getaway to fall in love in with you. If she's willing to put a ring on it, you're both free to leave. If not... well, it's in the name of the show!" TW for manipulation

Pinewood Island Steam Itch.io $9.99 - "Find love, solve a murder, and prevent more death in this murder-mystery horror otome | visual novel." TW for drinking, stalking, attempted sexual assault, suicide, attempted suicide, and murder

STOP BURYING ME ALIVE, BEAUTIFUL Itch.io Free - "You wake up to your girlfriend burying you alive, and she won't be convinced that you aren't dead. One of several problems, it turns out, as you find yourself dealing with rats trying to take a few early bites out of you! And just who is the girl talking to you from underground?"

Creature in the Corner Itch.io Free - "AND IT SEEMS HUNGRY. YOUR CHOICES WILL DECIDE WHAT THE CREATURE CONSUMES (HOPEFULLY NOT YOU)." TW for possibly being eaten

[shefanispeculator]

Sam Bergeson is the only son of Alison Krauss.

He was born in July 1999 in United States to Alison Krauss and her ex-husband Pat Bergeson.

Sam’s father Pat Bergeson is an American guitarist, harmonica player and occasional songwriter. He is best known for his live and session work with Chet Atkins, Lyle Lovett, Suzy Bogguss and Les Brers.

Like his parents, Sam Bergeson is a producer, songwriter and mixer.

Prior to graduating high school, Bergeson had his work featured in a national Geico ad campaign that ran during the NFL season and the feature film “Love The Coopers.”

He signed a publishing deal in 2017 with Nashville’s Combustion Music and has continued to grow and flourish in both the country and pop worlds.

Sam Bergeson has written and produced for many great acts, including arranging and remixing for Blake Shelton, High Valley, Chase Rice, and Hunter Hayes. As a writer, Sam has excelled in rooms with some biggest musicians including Josh Osborne, Tommy Lee James, Dave Kuncio, and Geoff Warburton.

He recently landed a song in the critically acclaimed movie Blush, the TV show Younger and has many other songs poised for release.

Bergeson co-wrote and co-produced the Top 15 Dance single “I Still Remember” from Caroline Romano ft. R3hab.

Sam Bergeson is 23 years as of 2022.

[bubbl3s-dot-jpg]

Cool Places for TTRPG PCs to meet

Places where people meet

Inn (you heard this one before)

Singles' mixer

Party

Convention

Jobs fair

School

Work

University

Expeditions (safari, mountain climbing)

Shared carriage/uber/train/boat

Pirate ship

Hospital

Waiting room

Summer camp

Wedding

Grand opening

Pride event

Potluck

Charity event

Church

Model UN

Bookclub

Parent/teacher conference

PAC meeting

HOA meeting

Senior's home

Ball

Ren faire

Farmer's market

Christmas tree farm

Exposition

Adult's class

LARP camp

Coronation

Running event

Car lot

Protest

Online chatroom

Social media

Public places for the inciting incident to take place

Public swimming place (pool, lake, ocean)

Park

Coffee shop

Fair

Circus

War camp

Campsite

Bathhouse

Concert

Public speaking engagement

Funeral

Parade

Museam

Ice cream shop

Art exhibition

Library

Archive

Haunted house

Open house

Apartment complex

Elevator

Grocery store

Field trip

Gym

Cruise ship

Hotel

Casino

Volcano

Airplane

Ferry

Power station

Sale event

Factory

Farm

Premier

Apiary

Gardens

Dig site

Ancient temple

Aquarium

Theatre

Mineshaft

The inciting incident is taking place

Hired for the same job

Being kidnapped

Murder suspects

Witnesses to a crime

Wildly impractical execution methods

Detention

Athletic competition

Refugee camp

Tournament

Alien abduction

Hell

Heaven

Isolated together somewhere (island, prison, last man on earth)

Villains lair

Shared dream

Political campaign

Game show

Audition

Jail

[dairy-farmer]

tim as thomas wayne's girlfriend! and bruce gets jealous. i mean, who WOULDN'T? until he realizes he can join them in their little tiny relationship 🤍

(these are a little close so i decided to group them together! hope you both don't mind!)

thomas wayne being the only other survivor in the alley alongside his son bruce!!!!!!!

it being one of the few universes where things are stable and....actually turn out really well becuase everything just happens to fall into place. sort of like a 'i dont know how, but you used the wrong formula and got the correct answer???'

in some universes both bruce's parents die. and bruce becomes this pained man who dedicates his entire soul for the pursuit of making sure no one else feels the pain he did when he watched bullets rip through his parent's bodies. a noble cause that is a dice throw on how his life and the life of those around him turn out.

if bruce dies in that alley the world loses a pillar of sanity and stability and everything just slowly and steadily crumbles. a world without bruce wayne is not a world that is sustainable.

but...sometimes...on occasion...there are flukes.

universes where bruce survives and one of his parents live.

some universes its martha. the bullet hits her clean and through and hits nothing critical. its the worst pain she's ever felt, gasping and bleeding and choking as her son clings to her.

its the worst day of her life. the police and ambulance take her and her son while her husband's body is bagged in clear view of her child. martha tries soothing him despite her pain and petting his lovely head. there are bits of her husband's brain and skull splatttered in her child's hair and martha has to call on every bit of will she has to not throw up.

things for martha are rough. she's in a rut for numerous years, focused on caring for her child and mourning her husband. but she returns to what she knows.

her family got mugged because a man was desperate for money. a person doesn't turn to crime unless they have no other option. martha funnels money into safety net programs for underprivileged areas of gotham. she donates money for textbooks and school supplies, builds playgrounds and community centers.

but money can only do so much.

she studies. she reads every paper on psychology and urban development, on how people become criminals in the first place. she tries to write a proposal to the mayor about establishing a buddy system for troubled teens, setting up health clinics within schools, limiting the prescense of law enforcement in schools.

she gets laughed out of the office. that day she calls an old schoolmate who is on gotham's city council and asks how she can get her proposals through the door.

martha has her eyes set on being mayor. meanwhile her son stews and thinks about how long it'll be before his mom's ambitions can come to fruition. it'll be years of climbing the ranks and campaigning before she gets to office and then even longer for her ideas to be passed and implemented and there are people who need help today.

batman is born of a boy's internalized pain and need festering and driving him to leave in the middle of the night while his mother and butler are out at another political mixer.

her estranged son returns the same year martha is elected mayor.

thomas wayne is not so lucky.

thomas is a big man and a big target. martha was knocked down with only a single bullet fired in her direction but it was enough to snuff out her life.

thomas is turned into swiss cheese after the first few bullets only make him stumble back. on some distant level he recognizes he's going into shock as he lays there staring up at a flickering streetlight.

he fades in and out of conciousness until he wakes up in the very hospital he worked at. his wife is dead and his son is traumatized.

and thomas's body is broken.

martha was lucky because she was able to recover physically and eventuallly mentally from that night. she focused on the future, like her son. on what she could do and control to make sure no one shared in her pain of that night.

thomas is also like his son.

sucked in by pain and blinded by the hurt he endured.

but thomas is his own worst enemy in his recovery.

he does not recover and does not heal like martha had. he does not latch onto his son like martha did. he does not find meaning in his work like she did.

thomas's recovery is long and painful and its so hard to remember he has a child who needs him when he's stuck in the horrible pit of dispair and feeling sorry for himself.

thomas is not the father he should've been for young bruce who had needed his dad to hold him and comfort him as they buried his mother.

instead alfred keeps a steadying hand on the young boy's shoulder while thomas lies in a hospital bed.

even when he is cleared to return home thomas does nothing to soothe his pained child who lies in bed, hugging himself and keening with such desperate pain. lying alone in bed, ignored by his father breeds a resentment that will linger in bruce for years to come.

martha had been the parent with the gentle touch, the one who knew what bruce needed. she understood emotions and feelings with an expertise that had drawn thomas in.

try as he may thomas had never been able to hone the emotional center of his brain. everything needed to be technical and plainly explained. it was why he'd fit in so well at medical school where all he'd needed to do was memorize large volumes of data to suceed and do well.

thomas wayne is not a man who has ever had tragedy affect him. he is not a man who has ever struggled or toiled in despair. so he is a man who does not know how to not feel...like this.

thomas was generous and kind before that night. but the pain of his injuries and the ache of his limbs, and the loss of so much taken so fast-

it changes him. and unlike martha, it's not for the better.

thomas needs round the clock care for more than a year after that night. for a man whose bodily autonomy had never been an issue before. it's agonizing. logically thomas knows he shouldn't feel like that. he's a doctor and he knows it's necessary. but the humiliation of having to listen to his long time colleague leslie and longtime friend alfred discuss with the nurse who helps change him every morning the schedule for his care...

that night took so much from thomas and it was still taking things from him. by the time he's well enough to potentially return to work he's been let go. the tremors resulting from his injury have made him a liability the hospital cannot afford to keep. thomas is a surgeon and if he's hit with a tremor in the middle of a procedure and the knife slips....

the thomas of two years ago would've understood. he would've agreed.

this thomas not so much.

thomas is not a man who had a substance abuse problem. even in medical school where his fellow classmates were bingedrinking to cope or taking amphetamine salts to do better on exams- thomas had never fallen into that slippery slope.

it's easier to after he loses his wife and his career. the alcohol makes him feel better. it makes him human. it helps him get through the day as he returns to work at wayne enterprise just like his father had always wanted for him to.

thomas exists in a haze. he knows he should seek treatment. all his doctor senses rang alarm bells everytime he woke up with a hangover. he's not coping. he's not. someone slammed a cardoor in the parking lot of wayne enterprises the other day and thomas had nearly thrown up from how hard he was breathing as he recalled what it felt like to have little bits of metal rip through his his organs and shatter his bones.

the alcohol doesn't cut it anymore. thomas knows what to say when he returns for one of his checkups at the hospital and talks about how the ache in his body makes it hard to get through the day.

thomas knows the statistics, he knows how quickly prescription drug abuse can get ugly. it's happened to a few of his patients before. but he manges to hide it well. he's a doctor afterall.

but then bruce is fifteen and breaks his arm riding his motorcycle. thomas only hears about it afterward when he hears alfred fussing over bruce as he helps him up to his room. thomas's eyes lock on the orange pill bottle gripped tightly in bruce's hand.

a few hours later and alfred is turning bruce's room upside down looking for the "misplaced" painkillers. he asks thomas for help. thomas knows it wasn't accusatory but something in him turns angry and defensive when alfred inquires if he's seen the pill bottle. he brutally scolds his son for losing the medication, accuses him of purposefully hiding it. bruce is blinking back pained tears from his broken limb, his lips are pursed tightly and something in his expression darkly shutters at thomas.

alfred needs to push him out of the room to get him to stop.

thomas toils in guilt for a little while but he pops one of his son's pills and the self hatred, the digust, and anger he feels go away.

a teenager "losing" powerful pain killers and needing a refill is not an excuse a lot of doctors are willing to believe. the doctor all but calls bruce a drug seeker.

alfred had asked thomas to drive bruce to the hospital and ask for a new perscription because these were his old colleagues and they might listen to him. thomas is in a haze and just stands by as a doctor he doesn't recognize lectures bruce and asks if he was planning on selling the pills to his friends or bringing them out to a party. it's unethical in every way possible to accuse a patient like that. thomas should be defending his child, demanding to speak to someone else, threatening to report this doctor. but he doesn't. he's in a haze.

bruce is tensed the entire time he gets reamed. he glares at the floor and doesn't say a word until they're back in the car. thomas is clipping his seatbelt and bruce opens his mouth and calmly, with barely contained anger says "i know you took them."

thomas doesn't retort and the pills make it so the panic doesn't bleed through. but his quiet is all the answer bruce needs.

bruce slams the door of the car when he leaves and thomas's hands shake as he drives back to the manor.

bruce doesn't tell alfred what thomas did. thomas isn't sure why. but something between him and his son changes after that night.

bruce knows that alfred had done his best to fill in for what thomas lacked after that night. alfred believed that a boy needed his father and he held out in the hope one day thomas would realize that. bruce knows that his father's downward spiral after that night saddened alfred deepy. and he knows alfred finding out thomas had stolen his son's painkillers to get high would destroy him.

when bruce was young he also held out for the hope that his dad would one day go back to the way he used to be. the way he was before that night...because sometimes...it almost felt like his dad had died that night in the alley and the man who passed him in the halls was just a stranger.

the thought hurts on the occasion that bruce allows himself to think about it for too long.

bruce feels a lot of things about his father. he feels hurt that his father abandoned him by closing off after that night. he feels angry at his father for never helping bruce after that night. he feels pity that his father had been reduced to this shell of a man. bruce's feelings are complex and messy and ugly and sometimes it's just better for him to ignore it and focus on something productive.

four more years of sharing a roof with that man and bruce doesn't think about his father at all while readying to buy a plane ticket to rio de janeiro so he can learn speedracing from a man named don miguel.

the last time bruce sees his father is when he leaves gotham to become...something else.

bruce gets older, bigger, stronger. he becomes a father in his own right. dick, damian, and jason all know that bruce's father lives alone in some stupidly expensive penthouse in gotham that bruce paid for. they also know that they're estranged and that bruce hasn't spoken to his dad in years. they know that fact always has alfred looking softly pained but resigned.

bruce never forbids them from seeking out their grandfather. but they never do either way. it feels wrong to go behind bruce's back like that.

the first time in almost two decades that bruce hears about his father is through the mouth of some small figured little thing that knocks on the manor door.

his name is tim drake and he's his father's live-in nurse.

as far as bruce was aware his father had been able to live relatively independently. that was the reason he'd moved to mooney towers in the first place when he retired and left the manor and WE to bruce when he returned from his sabbatical. mooney towers was a quiet luxary building in the coral district that housed nice features for an aged man like bruce's father to live a comfortable life.

groceries were delivered weekly to his door, his laundry was done by a pickup and drop off service, he had his own private driver on speed dial, and free access to the family jet that had it's own runway at gotham airport.

bruce's father wanted for nothing. however a 'live-in nurse' was not among the bills that bruce paid every month reguarding his father's care.

tim is attractive and young. he has long bangs that frame his face and a hair style that is a touch too long in the back. he dresses smartly with nice clothing in brands that bruce recognizes. he speaks sweetly from a pretty mouth that bruce's eyes linger on. he's too busy taking in the sight of him and building a profile in his head that he almost misses his reason for comeing to the manor.

his father isn't hurt. he's fine. tim came to deliver a message to bruce that his father wants...to have lunch with him?

bruce hasn't shared a table with his father since middle school. he makes that clear when he tensely informs tim that it will not be happening.

tim's soft expression falls slightly but he schools it back and nods, accepting bruce's words before returning to the car sitting in front of the manor. it's his father's car.

the live in nurse delivers messages for his father? and drives around in his car rather than being chauffered?

bruce feels a tingle of something in the back of his mind at the oddness.

his father's penthouse is bugged and has cameras. bruce has never checked them but he does a few days later when the odd feeling doesn't go away.

bruce isn't particualry invested in his father's life but he still feels a trickle of something like surprise followed quickly by disapproval when he stumbles across footage of his graying father fucking nurse drake on the living room floor.

that's when bruce gets a little more invested in his father's life.

a few more hours later and bruce has reached the conclusion that tim isn't really a nurse so much as he is his father's...girlfriend.

it's an odd realization. realizing his father is...seeing someone.

because its not just sex. bruce watches months worth of footage and he sees them kiss and his father wrapping tim into a hug. he watches them cook together, eat, read, watch movies, and live some....domestic little dream.

timothy drake is freshly 18 and not really a nurse but he has emt training. the catalogued footage stretches back years and bruce feels something heavy settle in him when he sees tim getting younger and younger. tim is younger than two of bruce's son's. the first instance of his prescense in his father's apartment is when he was around thirteen.

bruce wanted to say he was disappointed that this was how far his father had fallen but after the shit his father has pulled over the years he couldn't say he was surprised.

bruce does a deeper dive and finds out that tim's father used to own one of the units in mooney towers. tim used to spend his summers there which was how he and bruce's father origionally crossed paths.

the sweet neighbor boy befriending an elderly neighbor would'nt have exactly raised red flags. that must've been why tim's parents hadn't hesitated to make bruce's father an approved 'guardian' on his school papers while they were out of gotham. it made it easier for him to gain guardianship of tim when his parents died later that year.

bruce rubbed the stressed lines of his forehead as he read that. his father had taken guardianship of a young boy and he'd had no idea. a young boy that he'd eventually started fucking.

jesus christ.

in most cases a young and attractive person who kept an old rich man company did it because they were looking to have a sort of...exchange. the rich man got pussy and attention and the young companion got money and to be showered in gifts.

from what bruce could tell timothy was quite fiancially secure based on what his parents has left him.

he didn't need bruce's father.

and he was so young and so pretty. he could find someone else, someone better just by stepping out onto the streets.

bruce's father was a bitter old man who got mean when he drank and indulged in drugs just barely enough to not be called a full blown addict.

bruce's feelings for his father are complex and more often than not they just make him angry and upset and bruce doesn't want to feel like that little crying boy who'd curl up in the middle of his bed waiting for his dad to come and comfort him from the nightmares.

thomas wayne ruined the mood. he made you feel guilty just for being happy if he was in the room. people awkwardly averted eyes when he'd limp in, leaning his weight against an assistive cane and reeking of booze no matter how cleaned up he looked.

bruce's father was going to suck this boy dry. he'd make him bitter and hateful and twist those sweet eyes to be as cynical as he was.

bruce knew it was cruel of him to think that. if it were anyone else bruce would have more sympathy, more heart. his father had endured something that had sent bruce down the path he was on. they were both there that night and bruce knows more than anyone how much it continued to haunt him.

his father had buckled and left bruce to deal with it himself and a part of bruce....couldn't. just couldn't forgive him for leaving him like that. if it had been bruce in that alley with his sons he would never have left them to suffer like his father had.

maybe some part of bruce resents his father. hates him even. but another, smaller part, yearns for him. that little boy in his head that never stopped crying for his daddy. it's the part that keeps him watching surveillance videos and swinging by to the building across from his father's penthouse to watch movement in the windows.

he watches as timothy gently rocks on his father's lap as they kiss like a pair of teenagers. the sight grips something inside him.

bruce doesn't know why he hasn't handed the videos to gordon. a predator is a predator even if that person is bruce's father.

but...nothing explicit happened until timothy turned 18.

there were some touches that looked a little too intimate but nothing that went under clothing. chaste kisses were exchanged. bruce's father was definitly a creep no one would deny that.

timothy was an adult now. technically. and if he wanted to date a nearly 60 year old man no one could really stop him.

but that didn't mean bruce took his eyes off them. he watched as his father took timothy out to dinner and to sports games. he watched as a poured the still underaged timothy drake a full glass of wine until he gained a pinky hue to his cheeks. he listened to their soft giggles and chuckles as they fell into the backseat of the car.

bruce's jaw clenched as he listened to the wet slap of his father fucking his young girlfriend.

he heard the soft 'smack' of timothy's lips as he kissed his father's cheeks and murmured 'tommy, tommy, tommy' with such a soft reverance that it made bruce inexplicably upset.

the two of them fucked a lot. bruce had plenty of cowl cam videos as well as the bugs from the penthouse. part of him was still uncomfortable at seeing his father naked so he almost always focused on tim's body. the way his little tits bounced when he rode his father and how red they'd get when his dad would latch on and suckle them like he was a newborn lamb.

bruce's sons and colleagues constantly made comments about bruce's mental health and how he was a little off his rocker in their eyes but somehow he manages to tune those voices out while watching his dad and his...girlfriend have sex.

it becomes a regular thing. bruce watching them. so does tim coming to the manor and inviting him to join them for lunch or dinner. sometimes he even drops off a few treats like small cakes, sweet homemade candies, and loaves of bread. (something very much appreciated by all of bruce's children).

the thing is...bruce doesn't have the highest opinion of his father. a lot of the things he kept secret from alfred, leslie, and even clark regarding his father always made him seem like the unreasonable one for refusing to fix their relationship.

but with his father's girlfriend in the picture....it changed things. bruce couldn't, in good conscience, just allow timothy drake to continue his relationship without knowing the full backstory. bruce hadn't even confided in the rest of his family about his father's relationship with the very young timothy drake. he knew how it looked. he knew that alfred would be beyond disappointed. that jason would be shocked but then immediatly angered. that dick would be stunned and silently creeped out. but it's not as though they could do anything about.

timothy was a grown up. but that doesn't stop bruce from learning everything he can about tim. what he does, what he likes. his interests, his laugh, the way he speaks to bruce's father so softly and tenderly, how he holds bruce's father on his "bad days" so he's not tempted to seek out the drugs that he's apparently given up at some point, how he carefully empties out one bottle of alcohol from the apartment's minibar each night after bruce's father goes to sleep.

bruce develops an off fondness for tim. his feelings towards his father are still complex but it's nice to know his father hasn't managed to squander everything decent in his life. even if it's something he doesn't deserve.

bruce never really manages to quash that feeling. if it were a rogue, a criminal- bruce might feel a bit of happiness for someone who manged to turn their life around, who was getting better and had found someone to join them on their journey in recovery.

but with his father it's...different. it's personal and bruce has a lot of disappointment, anger, sadness, and hangups around his father.

the feelings he'd long pushed down start boiling to the surface and bruce...bruce admits maybe he snaps a little when, instead of being greeted by the sight of tim at the front door after the doorbell rings, it's his father.

it's a one-sided argument. bruce briskly asking and his father softly asking if bruce would like to join him for dinner one night.

to say it goes badly is an understatement.

that night when bruce checks in on his father, the sight of him curled up in soft timothy's arms and being gently comforted to just brings up bitter feelings in his chest.

timothy could do better. he could do so much better.

timothy is the one who continues to show up after that and eventually bruce loses the tension in his jaw after each successive appearance.

timothy notices that. bruce hears him tell bruce's father about it when he returns one evening.

bruce feels a flutter in his chest whenever timothy talks about him. talking about how bruce looks well, that he liked the lemon loaf cake tim brought last time, that he's nice to tim even if he always rejects tim's invitation.

bruce's father nods along, his expression tugged with resignation and grief as tim sits in his lap and recounts meeting bruce again.

bruce listens to them quietly talk with the bugs he's planted in their shared home. he listens as his father softly talks about how his regrets, about how he hadn't been there for bruce, how he'd been so caught up in feeling sorry for himself that he'd abandoned his child to drown.

bruce feels a tight wad of emotion form in his throat at the words.

but then his father says something odd. about tim. about how tim is the only way he manages to feel close and connect with his estranged son. about how he wishes there was a way for bruce to understand the depth of his remorse.

it's odd because his father is stroking tim's exposed thighs as he says it, calloused hands tugging on the short little night dress his girlfriend is wearing. it's a complete 180. bruce's father will be brushing away tears while talking about bruce and then the next moment he'll be playing with his girlfriend's pussy and rolling them over on the couch to fuck a pink little cunt. burying his grief with the rest of his load into his pretty girlfriend/bruce's possible future step mom.

something like realization blooms in bruce when after they're done fucking, his father is panting and kissing at timothy's reddened cheeks, murmuring about how he wishes he could give bruce something like this.

bruce has rejected every birthday and christmas gift his father ever sent him after he returned from overseas. but then next week, when timothy rings his doorbell in a new, slim-fitting dress and a pretty, red shade of lipstick- bruce, for the first time in a decade, accepts his father's apology gift graciously.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

yeah hi we're doing this again because I had fun last night. yeehaw.

Gotham 4x10

another tasteful depiction of mental illness courtesy of Gotham!

The Batman (2022) was actually ripping off this episode of Gotham when it used Ave Maria

less than four minutes in and we've already got one (1) character who's a.) a scary mentally ill person and b.) a scary Black person and c.) a DEAD Black person all in one. god I hate this show

OH NO NOT RIDDLER BANGS

Pyg claiming that he "terrified the city for months" when he was in like three episodes has me in shambles what the fuck is the timeline of this show

guys I'm really sorry I don't have a lot of funny goofgoof commentary for this one but this is actually just a pretty tight ep for Gotham. like not a single plotline makes me want to put my head in a cement mixer that's pretty big here

Jimbles really just ordered one of his cops to escort a woman all the way to FLORIDA surely you can't make an employee do that with no notice

damn I guess Oswald's a dad now fr

arguably THEE cuntiest thing Oswald has ever said or done I LOVE this for him. and he's not even lying his parents actually did love him. what a FLEX.

oh okay oswald is super duper NOT a father actually. jesus christ in heaven.

oh okay yes he is I guess. the whiplash in this episode is crazy. but either way the kid is leaving so. but god man this little freak just can't stop caring about people no matter how much it gets used against him I'm emo

spoke too soon about there not being any plotlines that make me want to put my head in a cement mixer because THE EVIL HALLUCINATORY REFLECTION RIDDLER IS BACK god damn it ALL

can I not know one day of peace