#the counselors told me 'just get out there and try again' and this is what i fucking get

[aceofstars16]

It’s 7:30 in the morning and I’m exhausted but I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep again any time soon….

It’s like I was *just* starting to heal from having my heart and trust shattered 3 years ago, and now it’s happening all again, only this time I don’t have the church to go to for comfort/prayer/encouragement. And instead of a friendship I had for 2-3 years, it’s a church I’ve been going to for TWENTY TWO YEARS

I feel like I’m living in the twilight zone, this can’t actually be happening, right?

(I’m not okay, I keep crying and I just want to wake up from this nightmare)

[tovarishch-dyke]

One thing adulthood has taught is that you hold your tongue even if you really REALLY are about to lose it on someone

[lilicohirukoma]

- the tags have a lot of venting so dont venture if you cant deal w that rn <3 -

me watching everyone in my group home’s groupchat ignore my texts even tho i worked so hard on making them the perfect balance of funny and not bitchy

[krkiiz]

sly swordsman . luke castellan x reader

luke decides to distract you by confessing in the middle of a duel

luke castellan x f!reader , reader is the daughter of apollo , luke being head over heels , confessions , fluff , slight teasing

note : sorry if there are lots of mistakes, i wrote this on my phone with nail extensions and it’s so hard to type pls help 😭😭 apologies for grammars n errors, i’ll edit them tmrw hehe (also this is my first time writing pjo n fight scenes so i hope it’s decent!)

let me know your thoughts ! likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated <3

“Let’s go Kayla! Beat his ass!” Shout one of your fellow half-siblings along with boos from the opposing side.

Clanking of swords can be heard from miles away. Today the children of Hermes and Apollo are scheduled to a joint swordsmanship practice. Where the two cabins will have to engage on a 1v1 duel against another.

Right now stands in the center of the battlefield is your half sister Kayla, along with one of Hermes’ son. Kayla is known to be a skilled archer just like any of Apollo’s children. But that doesn’t mean she can’t beat the swift son of Hermes.

The battle ends her sword pointed right at his throat as he gives a sign of defeat to his opponent. The children of Apollo cheers with glee as they congratulate their half sister.

The two retreat, their places soon replaced by none other than their head counselors. Luke and you approach the center of the battlefield as your fellow half-siblings watch in anticipation.

It is so secret that Luke is an outstanding swordsman. As his skills rivals Ares and Athena’s children themselves, you knew he was a challenging opponent.

Well that’s a good thing you love challenges.

“I admit my defeat on our archery battle last week. But now, let me show you how good I am with the blade, Yn.” He smirks as the two of you start circling one another.

“Must’ve hurt your ego, Castellan.” A chuckle left your lips like honey and Luke suppresses the butterflies swarming in his stomach.

“Let’s see how good you really are, Son of Hermes.”

The two of you got in your positions, fingers tightly gripping on the sword and the shield, waiting for a sign to charge.

The hornet blows and Luke wastes no time to charge forward. The point of his blade almost piercing the epidermis of your skin before you block him with your own sword.

Luke knows better than to underestimate you. Sure, you are the daughter of the god of Archery, not swordsmanship. But everyone knows that you are an outstanding dancer and you treat the battlefield like it is your stage.

Your movements swift and laced with elegance. It’s always extremely difficult to predict your next moves. Your footing carefully calculated as you deflect all of his upcoming attacks.

Luke is also quick to encounter your offense as he blocks the side your blade that was aiming at his neck.

With such close proximity, Luke can see how the sun compliments your e/c irises. Complimenting every contrast and detail of the pupil.

Gods were your eyes always this beautiful? Were you always this beautiful?

Luke feels himself caught in a trance just for a second before earning back his composure. But one second is enough for you trip his leg leading him to fall right on his back as he looses his grip on his sword.

The sides of your blade nearly makes contact with his neck as you lay above him giving him a look of triumph.

“Yn, have I told you how beautiful you look on top of me right now?” The boy starts causing you to roll your eyes and scoff at his antics.

“Yeah, try again because that’s not going to work on me, Luke.” You press the blade against his adam’s apple causing him to wince slightly.

The crowd wonders on what was happening and why hasn’t Luke gave a sign of defeat knowing well that being under your sword doesn’t give him a good chance at winning.

They fail to see how his right hand is slowly reaching discreetly trying to get ahold of his fallen blade.

Luke lets out a lighthearted chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours. “I like you, Yn. Let’s go on a date.”

Now this caught you off guard. “What?”

The sly swordsman took your state to his advantage as he unclasps his knee from your hold and flipped your positions, your sword disregard in the process.

With his blade firm in his right hand, now it’s his turn to reside his sword against your neck, just like you did to him a few seconds ago.

You try fighting back but he just tuts and starts applying more pressure to his blade before you finally give the sign of defeat.

The Hermes cabin roared with glee congratulating their win, knowing that their head counselor will never fail them.

Luke quickly stands his ground giving you a helping hand, in which you accepted with a smile. He pulls you up against him, the sudden movement made you loose your footing but he’s quick to steady you with his free hand placed on your waist.

“So, about that date.”

©️ sirena | krkiiz 2023

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Lessons Learned - Hyunjin

MINORS DNI 18+ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: tutor! Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: if you fail this midterm, you're screwed. Thankfully, your counselor set you up with a tutor who's willing to help you out and he has a very interesting way of rewarding you whenever you answer a question right.

warnings: public sex, fingering, dom/sub dynamic, oral sex (f.rec)

Come on, Ace. You can do it.

You signed up for an introduction to economics class thinking it would be simple. It wasn't what you wanted to do, but you still needed the credit to graduate. You found the number of a tutor on the bulletin board in your common room and decided to give it a call.

“Yeah?” The voice on the other end sounded groggy and irritated.

“Hi! I saw your number and thought that maybe you could tut-”

“What time?” His voice spat at your ear.

“Oh! Uh, I'm free tomorrow afternoon. Does that work? Or we could-”

You were cut off again. He told you to meet him at the University library late afternoon tomorrow. Hwang Hyunjin. What a tool.

The next day you arrived at the library early. You wanted a table by the window and knew how coveted the seating could get. You placed your books around the table and tapped your pencil impatiently against your thigh. Hyunjin showed up exactly when he said he would. He wore glasses and a loose-fitting sweater vest over a short sleeved polo. His hair was messy and unkempt but you couldn't help but notice how incredible he smelled. Like vanilla and fresh cut cedarwood

The two of you met like that for days; with you showing up early and Hyunjin trying to explain the basics of economics. But you couldn't seem to grasp the concept. It was difficult to concentrate when he would lean in close to you, his breath tickling your ear as he spoke.

Come on, Ace. You can do it.

You would bite the eraser of your pencil anxiously. He has to know how gorgeous he was. He has to have girls chasing him all over campus. Sometimes when he would explain a formula or application, you could just stare at his mouth. You would watch his touch flick and bounce as he enunciated his words. Your thighs would squeeze together involuntarily at the thought of his touch moving and twisting around your mouth or your hardened sensitive nipples.

Come on, Ace. You can do it.

Every once and a while you would catch him staring at your breasts. Or he would catch you staring at his hands. More and more tension was building between the two of you without you getting any closer to understanding the assignments.

One day, Hyunjin leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other.

"Well, let's do something a bit... different, shall we? How about we use a more practical application?”

You perked up in your chair and tilted your head curiously.

“What did you have in mind?”

Hyunjin grinned mischievously.

“How about we focus on the concept of supply and demand?” Hyunjin leaned in closer, lowering his voice.

"For instance, if I were to... touch you in places you wouldn't expect, how would you react? Would you push me away, or…?”

Your heart clenched in your chest and your hands gripped the edge of the table.

“I…I guess I don't know what I'd do.” You lied.

“Exactly, you don't know. And that's what makes it so interesting." Hyunjin reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Let's conduct a little experiment. I'll demonstrate the concept of supply and demand, and you can observe and react accordingly.”

Before you could answer him, Hyunjin stood up and walked over to your side of the table, kneeling down in front of you.

"Alright, let's start with the supply side of things.” He placed his hands on your knees and slowly started to push them apart.

"As the supply increases, the demand often increases as well.

You held your breath; quickly looking around the library to see if anyone else had noticed Hyunjin's new position in front of you. Hyunjin grinned wickedly as he continued to push your legs apart, moving his body between them.

"You're blushing. Your breathing is getting faster. See how the demand is rising?” He leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours.

You nod your head slowly, your entire body completely entranced with the feeling of his hands on your thighs. Hyunjin's grin grew wider, his hands continuing their exploration.

"Mmm, the demand is high, isn't it?" His hand slid up further, tracing the edge of your underwear.

"And what if I were to... slip my hand inside? Would you push me away or pull me closer?”

“Closer…” you whispered meekly.

Hyunjin’s hand slipped inside your underwear and his fingers made quick work of gently caressing your most intimate area. He let out a low, satisfied groan as he felt the slick excitement that was already leaking out of you. Hyunjin looked up at you, his grin wicked.

"Look at you... taking it so well. You're a natural, Ace." His fingers continued their rhythm, his pace quickening slightly.

"And now, what if I were to... curve my fingers just…”

He slowly slid his fingers in and out, his thumb gently rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves as his middle finger curved and curled. Your walls clenched around his slender finger, your hand now clasped like a vice over your mouth.

Hyunjin smirked at your reaction.

"Found your sweet spot, haven't I?" His fingers continued to stroke that spot, his thumb still rubbing your swollen clit.

"And now, if I were to... lean down and lick you while my fingers are inside you…”

Your head shot up and you glared down at him, your face turning redder by the second.

“Here?! Now?!” You growled. You loved how he was making you feel but you had never done anything so public before.

"Yes, here." Hyunjin said firmly, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I'm going to lick your perfect pussy while I finger you, and you're going to let me, aren't you?"

Hyunjin leaned down, his mouth hovering over your clothed folds before pulling your underwear to the side and licking you in one long, sweeping motion.

You moaned softly into your hand. Your body was feeling like it was on fire. Every nerve ending has been activated and needed stimulation. You tried your best to stay still, to make it look like nothing was happening. To convey the facade that this gorgeous man wasn't absolutely devouring you inside a library. The silence around you was glaringly apparent as Hyunjin gently coaxed your clit into his mouth and gently sucked on it. His fingers continued to curl and stroke your needy insides, his other hand still holding your leg in place. He looked up at you, his eyes shining with desire as sucked and pulled hungrily at your slick folds.

"Look at you... so pretty…”

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star

[robo-writing]

Sometimes I sit here and think about baby Logan, you know the one from the first X-men movie? With the grey hoodie? Yeah that baby Logan. Anyway, I think about Deadpool pulling worst Logan into more time shinaganen shit and of course worst Logan’s gf (who was his gf in his last universe but of course died during the attack, but this one either never met her universe Logan or something) and somehow, she runs into baby first Xmen Logan wearing the grey hoodie and running around clueless as where the hell he is, until he bumps into a surprisingly pretty woman who for some reason is cooing over him and calling him a precious baby,(and did she just pspspspsps at me?? I’m not a fucking cat? No the hair doesn’t look like cat ears?! The hell wrong with you lady?!) and he only gets her name before a older version of him in a gaudy yellow suit shows up to grab her and take her away, grumbling about having to keep track of two overgrown toddlers while a mouthy guy in a red leather suit says some stupid shit before following after the older version of Logan into some strange portal. Of course soon after baby Logan gets found by Xavier and when he ask who the woman named y/n is, Xavier just looks at him confused. (Of course perhaps that Logan will meet y/n a few years down the road, or he never sees her again, a shame really, she was quiet a looker, despite being so weird, he can stand being called a baby or a kitten by her again)

Waking up in a strange building is one thing, but walking out of an elevator to find a woman starting him down is another—especially when she keeps calling him kitty.

“Oh my god, look at you! You’re so young!” Her voice is high-pitched, oohing and ahhing at him like some kind of attraction. Maybe it’d piss him off more if you didn’t look so cute doing it.

“Cute lil kitten aren’t you? And your ears are so fluffy!”

You reach up to touch his hair, and he would grab your hand if someone else didn’t already beat him to it.

A gaudy yellow suit is the first thing he sees, then—what the fuck?

“Doll, I told you not to go wandering off,” the stranger says, and it’s now that his day goes from bizarre to fucking impossible because he’s staring at himself. Older, sure, but his voice, his body, damn near everything—

“Oh peanut! It’s time to go!” Says another man in a bright red jumpsuit, and he can hear the other man groan in response.

“Alright, you heard him.”

“Aw,” you complain, following after the two of them. “Wanted to pet him before we go.”

You wave to the younger man behind you, giving him a wink along with your name. “Come find me when you’re all grown up kitty! I’ll be waiting for you!”

“Wait—!”

His words fall on deaf ears, the trio disappearing soon after in a yellow doorway. His jaw drops, unsure of what just happened was real or if he’s just high as a fucking kite.

After a couple of introductions and many confused glances, he finds out that the three people he met are not students or professors, and that no one in the room had ever seen them before. Years pass along with many, many, life changing events and his odd welcome party becomes a memory of the past.

That is, until he finds out Charles has hired a new school counselor, and she looks just a bit too similar to be a coincidence. Once he gets over the shock he extends his hand, to which you accept.

“Names Logan.” He says, and you give yours in return, the same name you gave him all those years ago. It’s now that you point to his hair with a small smile.

“Do you style your hair or does it always come out like that?”

His eyebrow raises, unsure of the line of questioning. “Not really? Why do you ask?”

You open your mouth, then close it with a shake of your head. “Forget it, you’re gonna think it’s silly.”

“Oh yeah?” Logan replies. “Try me.”

You bite your lip, debating on whether you should speak, eventually choosing to bite the bullet. “Well, it’s just that your hair kinda looks like ears. Y’know, like a cat.”

His chuckle is instant, evolving into a laugh. You’re getting more and more nervous, afraid you said something wrong until his hand gives you a good pat on the shoulder.

“Y’know, you’re the second girl to tell me that,” he muses, leaning in close. “But come to think of it, ‘kitty’ has a better ring to it, don’tcha think?”

[johnbrand]

Future Plans

“Don’t mind if I just pop these off real quick.”

Luke readjusted awkwardly on his yoga mat, carefully watching as Mr. Bergstrom plopped each of his massive feet out of their equally massive prisons.

“Oof!” Mr. Bergstrom exclaimed as he leaned forward to massage his feet. “These things have quite the kick to them.”

“Proof of a good workout?” The 18-year-old replied, unsure of how to continue forward with the conversation. He had not spoken to Mr. Bergstrom in almost six months, so it had come as a surprise when the middle-aged man had pulled him aside at the gym to discuss Luke’s "future plans".

Mr. Bergstrom chuckled, “I guess so.” Both sets of eyes followed Mr. Bergstrom’s hands as they peeled the grimy socks away, exposing two long, firm soles. The socks were then tossed aside between the pair. After a moment Luke was able to pick up on their slightly cheesy funk.

“Mr. Bergstrom, if you don’t mind me asking,” Luke knew he was treading on rocky ground. “Why did you want to speak with me?”

“As I said, I wanted to hear what your plans were moving forward.” Mr. Bergstrom put his calloused paws to work, rubbing away and massaging his feet. “My son already told me you’re going to a different university, I’m just curious to hear your reasoning.”

Luke shifted uncomfortably. He and Mr. Bergstrom’s son had grown up together, been best friends from elementary through most of high school. Mr. Bergstrom had practically been a second father to Luke, to the point that Luke’s own parents joked that they should have been paying for child support. That was until Luke had come out. Mr. Bergstrom promptly banned his son from ever speaking with “that homo” again.

“Well, I was offered a really great scholarship from the school. My grades were excellent this year, and my test scores were pretty much the same.” Luke was not trying to be boastful. “They are hoping to fast-track me through the engineering program, my counselor said I’ve got some real talent.”

The bustling noises of the busy gym were present, but dampened by the closed doors of their private studio. Mr. Bergstrom continued his cooldown, stretching his legs. “You know they’re just buttering you up, right?”

Luke’s face grew warm. Mr. Bergstrom continued, “You don’t really think your talents will be utilized by furthering your education, do you?”

Embarrassed, Luke found himself looking down. He would be leaving for college in a week, he already had made his mind up. He could not understand why Mr. Bergstrom was trying to convince him otherwise.

“I know you miss my son, Luke. And I know you miss me.” Mr. Bergstrom started, a friendly smirk smearing itself onto his face. Luke was familiar with that smile, its fatherly warmth attempting to lure him in. But he resisted, its friendliness almost artificial. “You should be less concerned about education and more focused on rebuilding the bridges you’ve burned.”

“What do you mean?” Luke queried without lifting his head.

“You can get a degree at any point of time in life,” Mr. Bergstrom argued. “But if a relationship has broken apart, you only have so much time to fix it.” Mr. Bergstrom’s fingers interlocked between his toes, smoothly caressing each of the pockets in between. “Your time at university will be, what, four years? But the bonds you make with others are for a lifetime. It would be selfish to put your own wishes before others, especially those you’ve hurt. And if this university really wants you, then they will be willing to wait."

Mr. Bergstrom sighed, "As an adult, it’s my responsibility to tell you this kind of stuff.”

Luke’s face was still flushed, but no longer out of embarrassment. The odor of Mr. Bergstrom’s feet had by now completely filled the room, its pungent, sour funk somehow warm.

“So, what do you suggest I do?” Luke’s eyes began to water, although it was unclear if it was out of despair or a reaction to the feet in front of him. Luke only realized now that this entire time he had been staring at the older man’s soles dancing in front of him.

“Put your actual talents to good use, kiddo,” Mr. Bergstrom’s face lit up with that fatherly pride once more, its affectionate smile inviting. The affirmation felt good to Luke. “You should cancel your college plans for the time being so that you can focus on your relationships. A gap year or two, or maybe three, or as long as it takes to make up for lost time.”

“Does that mean I’ll get to be best friends with your son again?” Luke asked.

“Well, he already left for school a few days ago, so he won’t be back until the winter holidays.” Luke was a bummed to hear this, beginning to reconsider Mr. Bergstrom’s offer. But before Luke could escape, Mr. Bergstrom wiggled his thick toes, drawing him back in.

“But in the meantime,” Mr. Bergstrom’s tone held its protective tone, as if it was only offering what was best for Luke. “You can work on rebuilding our relationship. You can live with me so your parents think you’re still at school, except I will be your professor. Won’t that be fun?”

Luke’s body began to tingle. Subconsciously, he could sense danger. But there was something so alluring about Mr. Bergstrom’s feet. His thick, juicy feet and their nauseating, mesmerizing, heterosexual scent.

“Whaddya say, kiddo? Do you trust me?” Mr. Bergstrom asked. 

Luke’s reply came out robotically, “...Yes.”

Mr. Bergstrom smirk reappeared, although this time the mask was off. It was now cocky, assured, but yet still familiar, as if this was not the first time. “Good boy, then lets give you your first assignment.”

The sweetness in Mr. Bergstrom’s voice had completely disappeared. “How about you start servicing these big manly feet." Mr. Bergstrom then threw one of his dirty socks right into Luke’s face, its sweat a metaphorical stamp on his future. "And while you’re at it, you can suck on this like the pathetic little faggot you are."

[cranberryjuice-posts]

- possession -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x fem! Hekate! Reader

Synopsis- you sick of people underestimating your relationship with clarisse

Tw - slightly suggestive, not smutty just heavy make-out

An - im currently working on another clarisse request but I got this idea and had to write it

You were tired. You heard the rumors from people.

‘Why is Clarisse dating a Hekate Girl? She’s probably only staying with her to not get cursed’

‘A Hekate kid— really I hear that their creepy poor clarisse must be scared’

‘ I hear that the only reason clairsse is with her is to have better chance at winning at capture the flag’

All the rumors were starting to piss you off. You weren’t holding clarisse hostage, she definitely wasn’t scared and you weren’t threatening to curse your girlfriend.

“Common? really babe your seriously upset over those stupid rumors” clarisse laughed trying to dismiss your insecurity. Putting your shirt on you glared back at her, upset mainly because she ruined the intimate moment ignoring her frown at the lost of your in your bra.

“Yes I’m upset over them, you do realize it’s not as easy here for me then for you. You have the reputation of being an ares kid, and also to add your a cabin counselor.”

“And you have the reputation of being my girlfriend and a strong ass witch so I really don’t see what the problem is”

Going to standup clarisse grabbed your waist pulling you back down onto the bed. Yelping from surprise, you turned and hit her softly on the shoulder. She leaned up kissing your neck softly. “You know I didn’t mean it like that” she muttered against your skin.

You rolled your eyes while leaning back into her shifting some to better face the stronger girl. “You have a shitty way with words” running a hand up her body, taking in her Nike sports bra and camp pj pants.

“I still try though” she smiled kissing you once again.

——

You stood in front of a mirror in the Aphrodite cabin, looking at your outfit you shifted the shirt off your shoulder to better suit your outfit.

Silena walked up behind you grabbing your waist making you jump. Laughing at your reaction she hugged you, looking over your shoulder. “You Look Perfect Why Are You Pressuring over your outfit”

Your silence spoke volumes. “Clarisse told me about the rumors, everyone who says them are just jealous” with that silena kissed your cheek “Common hot shot, bonfire is waiting for us”she chuckled before leaving the cabin.

Letting out a deep sigh you followed the raven haired girls lead. Walking towards the campfire you stopped, looking around for your girlfriend.

Catching you eye you saw Kira one of the other Aphrodite girls being just a little to touchy with clarisse.

—

“I’m serious how pretty do you think I am~” Kira flirted, placing her hand on clarisses shoulder while letting her other graze her body.

“Again I have a girlfriend” she grumbled taking Kira’s hands off of her, throwing them aside she stepped back some to create space. “Forget about her, we both know you’d much prefer me— I mean not to gloat but a daughter of Aphrodite versus a Daughter of Hekate.. it’s hardly a competition”

“First of all—“. Clarisses insult briefly interupted by you Pushing her back, pulling her into a kiss. Tangling a hand into her curly hair you forced the kiss deeper.

Parting only for a second you kissed her once more. Clarisse who had a shit eating grin placed her hands on your hips while pressing your bottom half against hers.

Pulling back you looked over to the now angry Kira. “Sorry didn’t see you there” You looked her up and down with a face of disgust, not letting her respond you grabbed clarisses Hand dragging her towards the ares cabin.

Once Inside you pressed clarisse against the door quickly pulling her into a kiss. Hands gliding under her shirt you gently rubbed her toned stomach.

Her body flinched in response, clarisses hands going straight for your thighs. Bringing one of your legs to her side. She tilted her head while sliding her tongue into your mouth.

Pulling away abruptly slightly pushing clarisse back into the door you scoffed. “Flirting? With an Aphrodite kid low blow”

“Don’t be like that I wasn’t flirting with her” she rolled her eyes walking up behind you.

You however were going to be like that. “Yeah Well how it looked to me You Sure as hell was”

walking towards the mirror in the cabin you leaned forward, fixing your makeup you felt clarisse place her Hands on your hips while leaning in to kiss your neck. She muttered something into your skin making you turn around to lightly hit her arm.

Clarisse grabbed your hand with a smile, turning you around and kissing you while pressing your body against hers. “Have I ever told you.. how hot it is when you get jealous”

“Your a bitch”

“Maybe” she sarcastically responded kissing you once again. Giving into her you chuckled giving her a slight groan. “You are so full of yourself” you panted against her lips.

“I’ve been told worse” she chuckled.

[moonstruckme]

I used to be a camp counselor and I just know James is the exact kind of guy the little kids would fight to sit next to at activities. And! He tells the most dramatic campfire stories

Hi! I realize this wasn't really a request but it gave me an idea, so thank you lovely!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 751 words

“Then,” James says in a low, solemn voice, “Timmy heard the monster getting louder. Do you know what I do with my giant red mouth and my long purple fingers?” 

All around you, campers sit with bated breath. When the last counselor to go had told her story, they’d all been whispering to each other, giggling and messing around as they tend to do whenever anyone is speaking. Anyone except James, apparently. 

“Timmy ran to the only place left to hide.” He walks slowly around the logs you and the kids sit on as he talks, the orange glow of the fire casting his face in a merry hue despite his foreboding tone. You can tell he’s trying his best to play the part, and James isn’t the worst actor in the world, but anytime he looks at one of the kids’ faces the twitching of his lips betrays him. 

He crouches next to an apprehensive-looking girl and says to her, “He squeezed into the closet in the basement and made himself as small as he could. Just like that.” James pokes the girl’s curled up form teasingly, drawing a smile out of her. His lips twitch again. 

“For a minute,” he stands, beginning to circle again, “it was quiet. Then, Timmy heard the monster coming down the stairs.” James stomps his feet on the dirt, making dull thudding sounds that have you smiling and your camper next to you gripping your arm apprehensively. “The monster got closer and closer. Timmy was trapped.” 

James is nearly behind you, and the girl holding your arm whispers, “Does the monster live close to here?” 

“No, no.” You keep your voice low, bending your head towards hers with your most reassuring smile. “This monster’s all the way in Florida. Don’t worry.” 

“And when Timmy could hear the monster’s breath just outside the closet,” James goes on, though you’re not really paying attention, more focussed on comforting the poor girl beside you, “it asked again, Do you KNOW—” His voice rises to a shout, and big hands grab your waist, making you squeak loudly. James’ hold is the only thing that keeps you from flinching fully out of your seat, and you can hear him snickering quietly behind you as the kids erupt in laughter. 

“Do you know,” he tries again, amusement coating his tone, “what I do with my giant red mouth and my long purple fingers?” 

He lowers himself onto his haunches, speaking to the girl next to you. “And do you want to guess what Timmy said?” he asks her, both hands still on your waist. 

She shakes her head, giggling. 

“Well, he said no, obviously.” James grins as if this is a joke you’re all in on together. “How would he know? So the monster said, I’ll show you.” 

James gives your waist a teasing squeeze as he lets you go, but his face smooths into seriousness again, one hand coming slowly up to his mouth. The kids near you are craning their necks to see him. 

Lightning quick, James sticks a finger in front of his lips, flapping up and down as he blows out and makes a vibrating sound. 

The silence breaks as the kids either laugh or boo or a mix of both, one of James’ campers shouting, “That wasn’t even scary!” 

“It was too!” James feigns offense, setting a hand on your head and banding his forearm across your collar protectively. “Don’t say that, you’ll make y/n feel bad. Poor love,” he says sympathetically, resting his head on your shoulder, “she was really terrified.” 

“Did you pee yourself?” one of the campers near you asks. You turn to her, making a silly face. 

“I think maybe a little,” you whisper loudly, causing the kids to devolve into giggles again. 

“Oh, ew.” James makes a show of removing his hands from you and wiping them on the back of your shirt. The campers eat it up, your small clearing in the woods a cacophony of laughter and cricket sounds. You catch some of the other counselors rolling their eyes, some exchanging knowing smiles. 

“Well, I suppose that’s fair enough,” James goes on. “I nearly peed myself, too, when I thought you were going to fall off your log there.” He shoots you one of his winning smiles. “Good thing you had me to catch you, yeah?” 

You feel your face warm, and you’re grateful for the glow of the campfire as cover. “Mhm,” you say, “good thing.” 

[ilythena]

Request: Jack and Luke go to an animal shelter to adopt a pet (cat or dog, which ever is your favorite) and Jack falls for the adoption counselor that helps them pick out the perfect pet

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM after Luke begs Jack to get a dog, he ends up lucky in more ways then one.

Fem!reader, straight fluff, no warnings! Kinda short tho, tbh I got too interested in Luke begging Jack for a dog 😭 req are open so don’t be shy to send in some, almost done w a lot of them just gotta find time to post em <3

♪ DIAMOND BOY - SZA

“Can you just hear me out-“ “no.” “Please! Just one!”

Sitting on the bed in Jacks room of their shared apartment, Jack throws his head back with an irritated groan. “Luke, I’m not going to keep arguing with you about this shit. We can’t have a dog. Who’s going to watch it? And clean up after it? We’re both professional hockey players and have zero time for an animal.”

With a pout, Luke hesitates before speaking again. “I’ll clean up after them! And I’ll spend all the time with them!” “Luke no. We have a game tomorrow. Go to bed.”

“Why am I even asking! I’m a grown man. I’ll just get one and bring it home.” “I wish you fucking would.”

Luke storms out of Jacks room and heads to his own. Immediately getting on his phone and ranting to Quinn about his problems, Jack turns his body and sighs.

“…what’s going on with the Hughes’?” “Apparently Jack said no to a dog. Luke’s not taking the rejection well.”

The two brothers glare at each other from across the locker room, Luke tightening his laces and Jack grabbing his stick. He mouths an ‘I’m not changing my mind. No dog.’ And Luke huffs before walking out.

“…..well, he’ll get over it soon.” Nico says, patting Jack on the back and he just frowns. “Why is he so insistent on a pet all of a sudden? I mean, you understand why I’m saying no right?”

“Yes, I understand. But I can also see his side. You two will come to a compromise eventually. Let’s not worry about this stuff and just focus on trying to win the game tonight, okay?” Nico says and with a nod, both boys walk out of the room and onto the ice.

Everything was going well at first, Jack had even scored a goal! But it’s like this week just wasn’t on his side. The opposing team began crushing them after the first quarter, swiftly taking out their team with a score of 3-1.

On top of the crushing loss, it was pouring rain outside. And his umbrella broke, which meant he had to walk in the rain, with his brother who’s mad at him, after he loses a game. Great.

Both boys get to the car cold and covered in water—not a word spoken between the two. Luke closes his door shortly after Jack does and it’s pure silence between the two. Jack starts the car and turns the heat up to the max before driving off and making his way home.

“Hey luke?” “…yeah?” “I’m sorry. I’ve been really stressed out and honestly I don’t think it’s good for us to be arguing over something so stupid. Maybe we should get something to eat-” bark! Jack’s eyes snap over to Luke and suddenly it feels like the car is at 100 degrees.

“What was that.” “What was what…?” Bark! Comes from Luke’s side of the car once again, this time Jack can faintly see something moving inside of his jacket.

“Luke.” “….listen! Do you see how hard and cold it it outside? Poor thing would have freezed to death out there!” “I told you no dogs!” “Look at her!”

Luke pulls the small puppy out from his jacket and you can see her shaking. Wet, cold, and obviously very lost.

“…what do we do now?” Jack whispers and Luke doesn’t answer, pulling the animal closer to his chest. After a moment of discussing what to do, the boys decide to just go home and sleep for the night.

“Hi, welcome in… how can I help you?” “We wanna adopt this dog-“ “no we don’t.”

Jack pushes Luke behind him and gently snatches the puppy from his hands, a sharp gasp cutting through the air when Luke feels the shove.

“Oh! Where did you find them?” “On the street, my brother couldn’t help but pick them up.” You gently take the animal out of Jack’s hands and inspect them for a second before looking him in the eyes. “I’ll have to do a cleaning and a check up for them, since they’re very dirty and I want to make sure the dog is healthy before I give them to you.”

Jack glances at you and when you two make eye contact all the anger he had directed towards Luke died down immediately in his throat. He quietly nodded and in less than a second, you were gone and in the back.

Another one of your coworkers came and got their information, and Jack had sat next to Luke in the small waiting area.

“…can we please keep the dog-“ “maybe.”

After what seemed like hours, you walk out with the dog put in a small kennel, handing it to your coworker. “Good news, puppy is very healthy! Bad news, you can’t keep her because she’s microchipped, which means she does have an owner.” Luke groans in disappointment, but his eyes flicker over to another dog playing through the window in a designated play area.

Jack notices this, and after standing there for a while, he speaks. “….are any of the dogs over there up for adoption?” “Yes sir! All the animals on the right side of the building are up for adoption. Are you interested in adopting today?”

“Um, yes.” Luke’s head snaps over into Jack’s direction. “That’s great! I’ll let you two look at the animals, and let me know if you decide to adopt.”

As you walk away, Jack looks at Luke and glares. “Don’t get too happy. I’m picking the dog.”

“Hello Mr. Hughes, how may I help you today?” “Hey. I know this is really sudden, but I think he’s sick! He’s been throwing up a lot.”

Jack drags in a golden retriever, who his brother named ‘Jett’ and he doesn’t look to well. Slouching and obviously very tired.

“Oh no! Here, follow me. I’ll get him onto the inspection table and I’ll check what’s wrong with him.” He follows you down the hallway with the puppy in his arms and sets him down gently onto the cold metal table.

Watching you take a stethoscope and check up his heartbeat and trying to listen into his stomach, his heart briefly stops when you call in your coworker to do an x-ray on the animal.

After getting sent to the waiting room and waiting an hour, his worried face shifts to confusion when Jett quickly runs out the door and in between Jack’s legs.

“So, I thought he had an infection in his stomach from some sort of food, but as soon as I officially set up the x-ray and tried to put him under it, he refused and went from looking sick to looking completely fine. My diagnosis is that he was trying to get your attention by being dramatic.”

Jack scoffs in disbelief and looks down at the golden ball of fur in between his feet, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Wow. So I brought him here for nothing?” “Pretty much.” You try to hold back a laugh but fail miserably, smiling at the animal and preparing the register for his bill.

“Well, at least he’s okay! That’s all that matters.” You say and Jack lets out a brief chuckle before looking down at the machine.

“150 dollars?!” “Unfortunately, He did waste the supplies used to prep the x-ray machine…”

“Back again, Mr. Hughes?” “He was eating grass, I’m concerned he’s sick.” “You said that the last time you came in.”

It’s been about 4 months since Jack officially adopted Jett, and coincidentally his owners been coming into your clinic non stop for those past 4 months.

“I’m just looking out for him, what kind of owner would I be if I just let everything slide under the rug?” He grins and you scoff with a smile before leading him and his dog into a private room so you can “investigate” the problem with Jett.

The happy dog jumps up onto the table and rolls over, making a happy sort of huffing noise when you rub his stomach. After doing regular check up procedures, you can determine that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Jett.

“As usual, there’s nothing wrong with your dog. Why do you keep coming in here when you know he’s fine?” Jett jumps on you and you can’t hold back a laugh when he jumps down onto the floor and stands in a playing position. You open the door to the dog play area and let him out to go socialize with the other dogs that stay in the clinic.

“Maybe I just wanna see the cute girl who works here.” “Well maybe there’s an easier way for you to do that instead of dragging him along with you and wasting your money.” Jack bites his lip into a smile and slowly walks closer to you with his hands into his pocket.

“Does that mean that maybe I can take you out on a date this weekend?” “Maybe it does.” You lean against the counter that holds all the paperwork and files in the clinic and take out a small slip of paper, writing something down on it before shoving it into his hands and walking back into a ‘staff only’ facility.

“ xxx-xxx-xxxx. I’ll see you this weekend, Hughes. ;)”

————————————————————————

I would have added my pink banner BUT I ran out of picture space….. sorry this ended so suddenly, I was struggling w how to end it!

© copyright of ilythena. Do not repost or translate onto any other websites.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

the prologue- piece of shit

Series masterlist

Warnings- mental/physical abuse, neglect, mentions of blood, read at ur own risk

“J.” You sighed in relief when he came out, wrapping your arms around him quickly and tightly.

“Hey, y/n.” He mumbled, returning the gesture.

You all walked outside, your heart sinking with each step.

“I wonder what restitutions gonna be on a 2019 Malibu.”

“I’ll pay it off. All of it. I swear, dad.” JJ said.

“Shit. 30k? When you gonna clear that, big guy? When all you do is smoke weed and hang out on the south side?”

JJ looked at the ground, you worried for him as you both stopped in front of the car.

“Get in the car.” Luke spoke, getting into the drivers. “Let’s go.”

You looked at JJ, giving him a small smile and patting his shoulder before going into the backseat.

JJ sat, Luke staring ahead at the street in front of him.

“Dad, I swear-“

JJ was cut off when your dad lunged at him, punching him. You let out a scream, trying to stop your dad and pull him off, but he just pushed you back into the seat.

Luke got on top of him, JJ struggled against him.

“Thirty thousand dollars! Do you know what you did to me? Damn-�� he yelled, JJ groaning in pain.

You shouted in the back seat, sobbing out your brothers name while your dad and him argued, your dad hitting him multiple times, his blood splattering onto the windows.

You desperately tried to grab your father’s hands, try to pull them away, but he just slapped your hands away, all his focus still on JJ, who he felt had disrespected him.

You shouted and cried, JJ leaning his head against the bloody window as your father finally stopped, leaning back in his seat.

—-

The drive back was Luke shouting at JJ, while you tried to intervene from time to time.

“Dad, that wasn’t his fault, It wa-“

“You, shut up! I told you already, young lady, stop tryna defend him!” He slammed his hand onto the steering wheel, you swallowing the lump in your throat.

JJ had glanced back from the side, shaking his head at you, his way of telling you to stop. When you got back home, JJ stormed into his room, pacing.

You began to follow JJ before your dad stopped you.

“Jesus, stop followin’ him. Go get me a fuckin’ beer. Or two.” He said to you, nodding over to the kitchen. You sighed, going into the kitchen and grabbing two bottles, handing them to him. He popped them open and began to shout again, making you flinch.

“By sittin’ around doing nothing! I’m gonna tell you right now, you are a worthless piece of shit!” Luke shouted.

You felt terrible, scratching at your skin as you looked down at the floor, you felt like a failure of an older sister. Always at your dad’s beck and call- it was why he had a little bit of a soft spot for you. He didn’t hit you as much as he did JJ.

No, he more so liked to throw misogynistic comments at you. Or call you names, or toss insults and scream and yell. But he rarely hit you- only when you did something truly to piss him off.

Like that one time when you showed up to school and had told some counselor about what he did. You were 13 at that time and he never forgot about it.

But JJ always got the worst end of it, he was the one getting hit more than anything, you didn’t know whether it was because of your mom or whether it was because of his rebellious nature.

“Shut up!” He shouted from inside his room, pacing it with his hands tugging at the roots of his hair.

“Your mama knew.”

“Shut up!” He was enraged at the mention of his mom, God he hated it. Your heart sunk at it.

JJ threw things around the room, growling and screaming in anger, they continued to go back and fourth for a while.

“Get your ass in here!” Luke shouted, you watched the two argue again for a while, things escalating until you broke it up.

“Dad, dad, chill out, okay? It’s done.” You spoke, putting your hands on your dad’s chest. He heaved, JJ stepped back away from him.

“Why do you always fuckin’ protect him?” He asked you now, looking down at you.

You didn’t answer, just looked back down to the ground.

“Huh? I asked you a question! Why, y/n?!” He scoffed. You shook your head and began to cry again.

Luke backed away, shaking his head as he sat back down onto the couch.

“God, I raised a bunch of fucking losers.” He mumbled with a laugh, taking another sip of his beer.

Finally, Luke had fallen asleep and you and JJ were left alone out in the living room.

“Jj..” you mumbled, sitting in front of him now with a bandage and some alcohol.

He breathed heavily, not glancing up at you.

“Can you let me clean it at least?” You whispered to him, tears falling down your face again. He looked at you now, and back at his dad.

“Please?” You pleaded, he didn’t say anything as you dabbed his face with a cloth full of alcohol.

“Sorry.” You told him when he winced in pain. He didn’t respond. You grabbed a pink bandaid- the only ones left you had, putting it onto his face and sighing, standing up again.

He wordlessly walked to his room, packing a bag full of clothes and other things. You furrowed your eyebrows, eyes following his every move.

“J?” You questioned when he stood at the door, bag slung over his shoulder. You stood up, going to him now.

“I gotta go, y/n. I can’t be here.” He told you, your hands going to his face, rubbing off the dirt he had.

“What? Jj, I- I mean I know tha-“

“You should leave too.” He told you, you shaking your head.

“I- JJ, I get it, I do, but I- I mean-“

“I gotta go, y/n. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not goin’ to.”

“Are you gonna be back- or- or-“ you stuttered out.

He shook his head. “If you need anything, I’m at John B’s. You know that.” He held back tears of his own.

“Jj, what about- you’re just leaving me?”

“Then come with me-“

“I can’t! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” You whispered to him, shaking your head. “I can’t, JJ.”

“I’m sorry.” He said again, pushing your hand away from his face.

“J- JJ- are you serious right now?” You laughed like it was some sick joke, following him outside, he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“JJ!” You shouted as he started his bike and drove away, giving you one last glance.

“Fuck.” You cried out, sitting on the grass, putting your hands over your head. You were completely and utterly alone.

—-

JJ didn’t talk to you for months after that, you’d been busy taking care of your dad and make sure he didn’t end up in jail again.

And you ended up paying off the 30k, slowly and gradually with the money you had saved up for college or a car. You didn’t know what for, really. Just saved it up since you were 10.

Along with that, you’d taken on three jobs. Things seemed okay for a little, you had a boyfriend for a few months, Luke was out of jail, and you had managed to keep three steady jobs for a while.

That was until JJ showed up again, taking the keys to the phantom. Everything changed after that.

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 3

&lt;----part 2, part 4--->

A/N: It’s been a week since your first day 

Everytime I came in for my shift I always needed to change into my uniform which was starting to get tiring. I wasn’t allowed to take the shirt, nametag, or headband home. I promised the team member that I would bring everything back, but they said they needed to wash it every time with the vanilla scent that DogDay has. I huffed in disappointment and took the clothes and went to go change.  

--------------- 

I was told that at the start of the week all the helpers need to give their assigned Smiling Critter a bath that way their scent can be strong again. Also, we needed to arrive two hours before Playcare opened to everyone. Guessing it took a while to wash everyone. Then a thought came into my head. DogDay is a dog, and dogs typically hated getting wet. Oh boy, today would not be easy for me.  

--------------- 

The Playcare looked scary when the lights were off. The only lights present was from the Bron lamps. I walked over to the counselors building and somehow while looking at the ground, I tripped over a wire. “Ah-!” I hit the ground and laid on the floor for ten seconds before rising to my elbows and looking at the wire. While I looked back at the wire, I noticed that it started to move. As I got a closer look, I saw that this wire was fluffy, and purple. “Huh?” Then suddenly whatever I tripped on wrapped around my ankle and quickly pulled me into the air. I didn’t dare make a sound while I was being hoisted up knowing that the kids were all asleep. My morning was going great. 

I was brought up to the statues and finally saw what the heck grabbed me. CatNap. This was the first time I’ve seen him up close and he was by far the scariest one out of the group. Since I was hanging upside down, I had to hold my shirt down with my hands. “Hey there CatNap...could you um, put me down please?” Where the hell was Sarah?! She’s supposed to be keeping an eye on him as his helper. CatNap just stared at me. DogDay did tell me that CatNap doesn’t really talk, but him not talking was making this much creepier. 

“Psst, CatNap, Angel, what are you doing?!” I looked at the floor and spotted DogDay just below me. “CatNap she’s my helper not a doctor. She’s a friend!” DogDay whispered but also yelled out. “Friend....” That’s all CatNap said before releasing his tail from me. I fell and landed into DogDays arms. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven Angel?” He laughed at the joke that he made. I look towards him with a concerned look on my face. “He pulled me into the air and then dropped me...and you...”  

It then registered what DogDay had just said to me, and I smiled and laughed, all the anger that I felt left. “I can’t believe you just said that. That was cheesy.” I wiped a tear away from laughing. “I wanted to see a smile on your face Angel, especially since what was happening with you and CatNap.” “Yeah, what was that all about anyway?” His face then looked nervous for a moment before he answered. “He’s not a fan of adults. He rarely tolerates his helper. He didn’t mean any harm, really.” I looked back up to the statues, but CatNap was no longer there. “Hm. Well next time I see him I want an apology.” DogDay chuckled and nodded his head. “Oh, I like your earrings, Angel.” I totally forgot that I went out yesterday and bought me a pair of sun earrings. I liked getting earrings to match my outfit. It was earlier than I liked to be awake at, so it slipped my mind that I wore them. “Thank you, there new.” 

--------------- 

DogDay led me to a hidden door that blended in perfectly against the walls. This was where they got washed up. Each Smiling Critter had their own room with everything they needed to be cleaned properly. The whole time we were walking towards DogDays room he was cheerful but as soon as we entered the room, and I closed the door he started shaking. “Hey, hey it’s okay. Taking baths are fun!” I grabbed onto his paw to try to calm him down. DogDay then stopped shaking and looked at me and smiled. “Normally I would give myself a bath but now that I have you Angel, this should be less scary.” I nodded my head and went to put on an apron to not get myself wet. “Alright, let's get started! First, I will need to take off your pendant, don’t want that getting dirty now.” DogDay lowered himself so that I could reach behind his neck and undo the knot from his pendant.  

Since it was just us, I decided to ask him a question that I had for him. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but you said you went through a lot of applicants before landing on me. What made me stand out?” I could feel DogDay stiffen when I asked this. I was still untying his pendant when he spoke. “Everyone else's application seemed so boring, plus the pictures that they sent in I could tell that they would not be good to work down here at Playcare. But yours Angels, your picture was just full of-” I accidentally cut him off as his pendant was quite heavy and made me yelp in surprise. “Jeez this is heavy!”  

DogDay saw me struggling to pick it up and took it from me and set it down on the table. “Woops, should’ve worn you, sorry Angel.” “That’s really heavy, guess the kids weren’t lying when they said you were strong.” I nudge DogDay playfully. His ears perked up and he wagged his tail. Cute. “Okay now the not so fun part.” I pointed over to where DogDay needed to be at to get washed. He swallowed hard but then walked on all fours over to the area. I saw that there was a step stool for me, so I grabbed it and placed it near him. “I’ll try to be really quick, okay?” He nodded and closed his eyes. I turned on the hose and started to wet DogDay. 

--------------- 

It took around three minutes to fully wet DogDay, yeesh. Now I had to put the vanilla scented soap on him. To pull his mind away from his bath I decided to playfully tease him about calling me pretty. “By the way, I never got to thank you for calling me pretty.” “Huh?!” His ears perked up again. “Oh- right, I forgot that Damian shouted that out...Well you are pretty Angel.” I scrubbed his ears and smiled. “Thank you.” It took me thirty minutes to cover DogDay with soap. This was tiring, but I’ll improve over time. “Okay almost done, just gotta rinse you off and then dry you and then comb your fur and that’s it!” As I said it aloud, I realized that those tasks would also take a while.  

I rinsed off DogDay and turned off the hose. I walked over to a cubby and took off my apron while also grabbing a blow dryer. As I was plugging in the blow dryer I looked over and noticed that he had a look in his eyes. “Angel, I gotta shake this water off.” Oh no. “Nonono don’t shake, please don’t shake.” “It’s dripping down my body...” “Don’t shake!” “I gotta shake!” “No no shaking-” Too late. DogDay shook all the water off of him. DogDay sighed as he no longer felt as wet as he did before. “Whew I feel so much better.” DogDay turned to look at me and he then saw the aftermath of what he did.  

There I stood, all drenched in water. “So sorry Angel...” Even though I was drenched in chilly water I wasn’t angry at all. I started to laugh aloud. “Haha! I should’ve known that was gonna happen.” DogDay smiled and wagged his tail. “I really tried to not shake Angel.” “It’s okay, ahem, now let’s dry ourselves off.”  

I got dried as best as I could but knew I was going to need to change out of these wet clothes before getting sick. I brushed out DogDays fur and added in some more vanilla scent to him. DogDay then grabbed his pendant and I decided to buff it out so that it’ll shine. I looked at the pendant and saw my reflection. “There, all beautiful now.” “Yes, you are Angel...I-I mean yes, it’s beautiful now haha...” I booped him on the nose with my finger and smiled at him. “Thank you, you are looking pretty handsome now after that bath.” His ears perked up and his tail was wagging back and forth fast. Seeing DogDay like this made me happy, and warm inside...maybe I was already getting sick.  

A/N: Thank you for reading!

[eupheme]

— cabin down below

dieter bravo x actress!f!reader

rated e - 1.8k

tags: cabining, co-stars-with-benefits, mentions of alcohol, references to sex and horror films, implied paparazzi trying to catch them together, oral sex

ahh nervous to post this (first time writing for him!) but excited about this gorgeous moodboard I recieved for Summer Lovin’ 24! 🏕️💖 thanks so much for hosting @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery!

Dieter really can talk you into anything.

The official table read is on Monday, scenes due to start shooting soon after. You really shouldn’t be thirty miles out of town right now - leaving the comforts of your apartment and the air conditioning of the limo, to hike another mile into the forest.

But you’ll trade the luxury for a chance to spend time with him. An old spot, he said. His dad’s cousin’s place, bought it off him when they needed the money. Been in the family for years.

“You gotta immerse yourself,” Dieter had told you, his arms spreading wide, “What better place to practice lines than here?”

It’s your first time in a movie with him. You’re not sure if he’s really a method actor. Equally not sure that it’s needed for a movie called Campground Carnage II - or if the city just seemed a little too loud, a little too busy.

Deep down, you hope it might just be an excuse to get you alone.

You'd be pretty alright with that.

It’s been hard to sneak around Los Angeles. There’s cameras everywhere. An obsession with one Dieter Bravo - the current hottest, most eccentric star.

You’d met before his last big break. Reading lines for Covert Affairs, but they had passed over the mutual chemistry for an actress with a little more weight to her name.

He had gotten the part, and you had gotten his number. Two desperate hookups when you both ended up in Vegas at the same time.

Only to come back together a year later.

“Long Island,” He had smiled, when he saw you, “Good to see you again.”

You had been surprised he remembered you, much less the drink he had bought. Enough alcohol in both your systems that you would’ve forgiven him if he had.

Not that you would have, though. Not with that mouth of his.

Something that you’re thinking about now, as the trees clear. The cabin tucked between them - a peeking sliver of a river cutting through the terrain behind it.

A cozy little thing, not much bigger than the apartment you’re missing. Built with thick wooden logs, two tidy windows out front, the checkered curtain pulled shut.

The key ring twirls on his finger, as Dieter moves ahead to unlock the door.

You can’t help appreciating the view, as he does. This ‘camping’ look suits him. It’s almost enough to make you a little jealous of his ability to look good in anything and everything he throws on.

A tight black tee, the hat that’s pulled down over his messy curls. Featuring an embroidered trout, with “fish want me, women fear me” scripted above and below that he found at a garage sale. Patterned crocs with matching shorts that only reach mid-thigh.

And you're at least 45-percent sure the fanny pack around his waist is filled with condoms and KitKats.

It’s been hard to keep your mind off him, on the drive over. Battering his wandering hands away, with the driver only a few feet from you. Still shy, both enthralled and not used to his open affection.

Trying to concentrate on the script. Preparing to run lines, just in case his suggestion for this weekend wasn’t some kind of euphemism.

But you kept going back to a particular scene. The two counselors - that’s you and him - sneaking off to one of the cabins in the campground.

A steamy encounter involving both the top and bottom of a bunk bed, and a lot of Bravo on his knees. Anything to showcase his physique, you’re already picturing how they’ll stage it with the female gaze in mind.

Bare back, you’re guessing. A hint of ass, but still tasteful.

The scene a fake-out - featuring a jump scare, with the shadow of a person passing by the windows behind you. Tapping into that classic trope - first to fuck, first to die.

Which might be true - if it was his first movie.

He doesn’t actually make it to the end, though. Dieter’s demise coming from a staged accident in the fishing lake, just as the movie lulls into a sense of safely. One final blow before the big reveal.

You know people will be pissed about that. As a fan of the series, even you are a little.

But the thought of having a scene with him - there is a flicker of excitement, that dulled heat in your belly - even though you know that logically, it will all be purely professional.

It’s still fun to imagine.

The door cracks open, but there’s something else with the sound. You frown, your head whipping towards the woods behind you. Searching for the source of the noise, one that sounded a little too familiar.

“Did I just hear a camera click?”

“Nah,” Dieter shrugs, “There’s no way they know about this place.”

"Yeah,” You hum, giving another glance. There’s nothing but the rustle of trees, the rush of the water. A self-conscious laugh, as you head inside, “Maybe I’m immersing myself too much.”

“No hauntings or serial killers here, sweetheart.” He smiles, “But if you’re scared I have a few ideas to get your mind off things…”

The door clicks shut behind him.

Your eyebrow arches, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Dieter pretends to think, as he advances on you. Hands reaching out to trace up your sides, pulling you flush against him.

“Can think of a scene I’d like to start with,” He husks, eyes darkening, “There’s no bunk bed here, but I think we can make do.

Hunger flares in you, now that you're alone. Your eyes dip to the curl of his mouth, no more than a breath before you’re pressing your lips to his. A rough moan as his hands slide up your back, his tongue already brushing across your lower lip.

Tasting sweet when they part for him, your own moan swallowed as you lose your grip on your bag, letting it tumble to the floor.

It’s always so easy to get lost in him. If you’re not careful, you might just get swept away.

“You don’t want to see what the directors have in mind?” You tease, when you pull back for a breath, “Hold off on that scene until later?”

“No can do.” Dieter groans, as he pulls you back to him, “Not with you looking like this.”

You can’t help the smile, as you start the stumbling journey through the main room, wandering hands and the press of mouths.

His hand grasping your ass as your fingers slip under his shirt - the other reaching for the door he has you backed up against. A creaking swing, as it opens.

Dieter’s hands are at your hips, as soon as the back of your knees hit the bed.

“Let me taste you, baby.” It’s mumbled against your lips. His fingers dipping beneath your waistband. A nail tracing the edge of your underwear, raising goosebumps, “Been thinking about it all day.”

You remember this from before. How focused he gets. Willing to beg, shameless, if there’s something he wants.

And you’re always willing to give.

The bed is soft - covered in worn buffalo-checkered sheets - as you let yourself be lowered onto it. His hands catch your ankles, tugging you down until your legs drape off the edge.

Spread wide, so he can fit between them as he kneels. Batting your hand away as you go to push down your shorts.

“I wanna do it.” He hums. His own shorts already pulled tight, a hand coming to palm himself in anticipation.

Your hips lift for him. Nails bite into skin, grasping fabric and pulling down both layers. Easing them around the bulk of your gym shoes so his palms can press into your thighs, spreading them even wider.

A rough noise, when he sees you.

“You been thinking about this too, babe?” He coos, a thumb pressing against your slit. Rolling against the wet gleam of your center, as it betrays your desire.

You huff, the muscles in your legs flexing. Breath held as your eyes flit up to his, waiting. Watching, as he sucks your slick from his skin with a groan.

“Bet you were. Saw you eye-fucking me in the limo, all while telling me to keep my hands to myself.”

"I-I," You try to answer. To protest - to say you weren't - but his palms are smoothing up your skins. Distracting, as he slowly moves.

Those eyes focused on yours as his head tips. An open-mouthed kiss to your knee, then thigh. Moving up, as your heart races.

Inner thigh, now.

"Dee," There's a buck of your hips, with your whine, “Don’t tease.”

It’s futile, you’re certain. Unable to take what you dish out. But perhaps he’s been pushed too far as well.

“Tell me you need it.” His pupils are blown-wide, drunken already.

It’s easy to answer.

“Please. I need you.”

The next kiss is right against your slit. Messy, as his mouth covers you. Your fingers twisting in the blanket, as your knees press against his shoulders.

He’s too good. Teasing with the wet brush of his tongue. The slow creep of his fingers, the tip of one pressing against your entrance - only to withdraw just as you clench down.

Again, and then again. Slowly sinking into you, one knuckle at a time. Working you open, until you’re stretched wide around three of them - too full to form words.

“Don’t need direction for this,” His eyes flip to yours, a dimpled smile as his fingers sink deep and then curl, “Do I, baby?”

He does it again, as your answer pitches high. Your hips bucking into his touch as his tongue licks at you again. Timing it so that the point of his tongue teases your clit, each time his fingers rub against the spongey spot inside you.

He’s going to make you come. You’re too wound up, too needy for him.

“Fuck, Dieter.” You keen - your leg hooking over his shoulder, “Oh fuck, keep doing that-“

“That’s it baby,” He grins, “Improvise for me.”

It makes you laugh, which has him groaning as you tighten around his fingers. His left hand dropping to push down the waistband of his shorts. Fingers pulling from you only long enough to smear your arousal on his cock, to pump his fist until he’s covered.

It’s then that you think you hear it again. Just as his tongue slips inside you. Another mechanical sound from outside, just barely audible through the wooden walls.

“Dee,” You moan, fingers twisting in his hair. Either to pull him closer or push him away, you’re not sure, “I d-definitely heard-”

“Can’t see in here.” It’s mumbled out, gasped between your thighs.

He’s seen to that, at least. The blinds thick, the bedroom tucked away.

A grin, as his tongue flattens - licking from hole to clit, “Wasn’t planning on leaving, anyways.”

You trust him, knowing he wouldn't leave you vulnerable. The sound in your throat is muffled as your teeth clench, “But they-, what if they hear us?”

It’s only now that his head lifts, those dark eyes blown wide. Paired with a lazy smile, his lips shining as they stretch wide.

A soft croon.

“Then I guess you’d better be quiet.”

Your laugh turns into a soft groan, at the flick of his tongue. Self-conscious perhaps, but not wholly and entirely deterred by the thought of an audience.

Not when you’re with him.

“Keep that up,” You manage - as something molten floods through your belly, “And you might have to help a girl out.”

His weight presses into you as he moves up - heated, bare skin as he settles between your thighs. Dieter’s nose skimming your throat, as his hand slips between your thighs.

Just before his mouth presses to yours, swallowing you moan.

“That, baby… I can do.”

just wanted to try something fun 🏕️ thank you so much for reading! and thanks again for this awesome event!

[secretficblogs]

"First Date Jitters" Divorced David "Deacon" Kay x School Counselor! Reader

Summary: Your date with Deacon gets derailed but you still find a way to make the most of it.

What to expect: 4K words, Light mention of divorce, Canon warnings (hostage situation, robbery, light mention of gore/guns), drinking, descriptions of being cut, flirting, fluff, comfort

A/N: I blushed so hard when yall asked for a part 2, I didn't really proofread btw

You could feel the seconds ticking away as you sat at your meeting. Why did school counselors need to sit in on district meetings, anyway? You glanced at the clock on the wall, 4:47.  Your leg was bouncing underneath the table, a representation of your nervousness. It was your first date in god knows how long. You still needed to run home, change, and meet your date, but you were stuck with what could've been an email. You looked again, 4:48, oh my god.

“Would you be for or against this change, (Y/N)?” Your boss shook you from your thoughts, leaving you to look at the schedule change in front of you. 

“I-I think this looks… great. I don’t have any suggestions.” You slide the paper to the center of the table, glancing back up at the clock. 4:52. 

“Alright well, if that concludes things… I'll let you guys get going. Thanks for hanging back for a bit.” The staff began to stand and file out of the room. The English teacher, you knew her as Jane pulled you aside.

“So, spill! What are you so keen on leaving for?” She rubbed her hands together, leaving you to roll your eyes.

“I’m going out on a date.” You answered, throwing on your cardigan. Jane danced around you and let her noises of excitement draw attention to the two of you. 

“Alright, alright,” you laughed. “I don't even know if it will go anywhere. Just nice to get back out there, I guess.” You rubbed your arm, as you made your way out of the conference room. 

“I'm just so happy for you! It's about time. You have the best time tonight, okay? Stay safe, and call me if you need a lifeline!” She shouted your way as you both made your way towards your respective cars. You thanked her before closing your door.  You made quick work of the dinner rush and ran up the stairs to your apartment. Quickly locking yourself inside, you immediately started changing into the semi-formal dress you had set out last night. You glanced up at yourself in the mirror, deciding a touch-up would do you good. You grabbed out a darker lipstick, one you wouldn't wear to the school. You looked at your phone, 5:19. You rushed to get your heels on and grab your purse, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror. 

“Okay, (Y/N), let's get back in the game.” You ruffled your hair and made your way back down to your car. You peeled out of the parking garage. Your fingers tapped against the steering wheel praying for the light to change. The drive felt longer than it was, and the counselor in you told you to breathe before you left your car. 

David sat in his car rubbing his hands on his thighs, nervously. He recognized you in the car that pulled up across the parking lot. He watched you fix your hair in the rearview, and step out of your car to straighten your dress. David’s nerves were calmed once he noticed you were anxious too. He stepped out and made his way to the door, trying to pretend he hadn't noticed.

You walked towards the door and saw him waiting in the lobby. He met you with a smile and you immediately felt your knees weaken. Together you walked up to the host station and told the young girl the name of your reservation. She quickly led the two of you to your table and took your drink order. You both ordered wine and began making small talk about the restaurant you chose. 

“So did your interest in international food lead to your love for travel, or was it the other way around?” He asked, watching you take a sip of your drink.

“They are not mutually exclusive. My mom’s a professional chef, so I grew up trying all of her experiments. That's how I ended up in LA. She found better business here than Oregon.” You rambled. You couldn't tell where the feeling came from but you wanted him to know everything about you. 

“How old were you when you moved here?” David questioned. He seemed genuinely interested, which you liked. 

“I was 12. I wasn't too happy to leave the humidity. It took a while for my asthma to get somewhat used to the lack of moisture.” You folded your hands in your lap, smiling back at him. He nodded and you could see him commit the fact that you have asthma to memory. 

“How about you, did you grow up here?” You felt he was at an unfair advantage, knowing so much about you from your office.

“Yeah, born and raised.” He nodded.

“Nice, do you travel much?” 

“Not as much now, with the kids, but occasionally I'll find myself in neat places for work.” David felt his heart race a bit at the mention of his kids. He knew the entire reason they met was because of his kids,  but he knew many single parents’ kids scare partners off. 

That feeling quickly dissolved when he looked up from his glass to see your smile. He went to say something but your waitress came over. You both chuckled, realizing you hadn't looked over the menu much. Fortunately, you were both able to make a quick decision and get your food ordered. Your waitress refilled your glasses and left you to continue talking. 

“You said you had a meeting today, right? That go well?” He broke the silence. 

“Oh, yeah, it wasn't too bad. I really didn't need to be there. I was just excited to go home and get ready.” You looked away, shy to admit you were looking forward to your date.

“I’m glad. This is all I’ve talked about all day,” You looked up at him, shocked. “My team was so sick of me that they sent me home early.” David chuckled, leaving you to smile dumbfoundedly. 

“That makes me feel better, I wondered if you'd get bored tonight…” You sheepishly mutter.

“Why would you think that?” David's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“...Well, I don't have the most interesting life. I mean, you're a SWAT sergeant. I'm sure you get invitations for dates all the time.” You trailed off, taking a sip of your wine to stop your rambling. 

“I don't usually entertain that. I don't really enjoy being hit on. Most people just like the uniform anyway.” He tried to make you feel a bit better. “Also, you're insanely cool. I mean your office is decorated with so many interesting things. I gotta know more about that.” He folded his hands on the table.

“Well, ask away.” You grinned feeling warm from his words.

“The paintings on the walls didn't look like prints. Did you paint them?” David questioned. You began to answer, but your waitress brought out your dishes, set them down, and asked if you needed anything. You both ordered another drink and turned back to each other.

“The portraits are mine, but there are a couple of landscape paintings, sculptures, and trinkets that I got from friends and vendors.” You took a bite of your dish after speaking.

“Your paintings are amazing. Did you consider going into art before counseling?” 

“No, no. It's always just been something I did on my own time.” You gently shook your head. “There have been times where I've illustrated for friends and small startups, but not enough to go full time with it. Moreso just to help out small businesses.” You explained.

The two of you continued asking each other questions and eating in between. Time seemed to stop for the night. The only thing you and David were concerned about was each other. As the sunset turned into a dark sky, you sat across from David, captivated by him. You could tell he knew it, too. He would hold your eye contact for slightly longer than normal, and whenever your hands were on the table, he would make it his mission to rest his hand atop yours. 

The drinks didn't help either. Neither of you wanted to get drunk on your first date, but you definitely felt tipsy. The alcohol made both of you more brave, light touches turned to hand-holding, and your conversations became more personal. You both talked about your parents and how they felt about your jobs. You talked about your time as a therapist and he talked about some of his more significant cases. 

“I tried to be a therapist for the elderly because I thought it would be less pressure. David, I was so wrong.” You laughed, shaking your head. He chuckled as you recalled getting harassed by old men and women for 40 hours a week.

“Deacon.” He interjected.

“What was that?” You tilted your head to the side, confused.

“Call me Deacon. That’s what my team calls me.” He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Well, alright. Deacon.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks begin to hurt. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. You stared at each other, enjoying just being together. Your romantic staring contest was broken by your waitress dropping off your check. You reached for it, but Deacon was too quick.

“Deacon. Come on.” You reached your hand out, silently asking for the receipt. 

“No, no. I asked you out. And, I'm honored you accepted, despite not knowing me.” He nestled his card in the tin and set it aside, turning his attention back to you.

“I get the feeling you're not going to budge on this, so thank you.” You folded your arms across each other and set them down in front of you. 

“It was nice getting out, it's been a while since I did the whole ‘first date’ thing” Deacon allowed himself to be honest.

“I completely agree. It's more awkward than I remember.” You laughed. 

You and your date continued talking long after your drinks ran out. You felt so warm with him, and the wine didn't encourage you to leave him either. You continued flirting and getting to know each other before a commotion was heard a couple of tables behind you. You took your eyes off Deacon to turn around finding a group of people dressed in dark informal clothing. One of them held his hand underneath his jacket which made you whip your head back to Deacon. His once soft expression was replaced with a look of concern. 

“Um- Deac? I- Do you think somethings wrong?” Your hand made its way to the back of your neck in an attempt to rub away the rising tension. He didn't respond, looking down into his lap. You worked at a school, so it wasn't hard to tell he was texting someone. Your heart raced. It was obvious Deacon agreed that there was a problem.

You were going off sound alone, as the group of people were behind you. You managed to twist your head and spare a glance their way, only to find them talking very quietly with the now frightened host. Whatever they were telling her was scaring her shitless. You felt so bad for her, wondering what she was thinking.

With Deacon clearing his throat you looked back at him, and he gave you a forced smile. He rested his hand on the table, a silent request for you to grab it. You interlocked your fingers and squeezed, letting him know you were anxious.

“Be honest, how likely is it they're here for a table?” You met his eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation. You didn't need to though because he sighed and gave up on trying to hide his feelings from you.

“Unlikely. They look familiar, probably wanted for something. We can't do anything about it right now, so just relax. It'll be alright.” He soothed as he looked past you to see the host leave the group. The group of people looked around, one in particular made eye contact with a woman nearby. The older lady was decked out in diamonds and a fancy bag. The man must have been feeling bold because he walked up to her and held his jacket slightly ajar. Deacon couldn't see what he was concealing but it was pretty obvious it had to be a gun. 

The woman's face fell and the man she was with stood up clearly offended. Deacon's worst fears were confirmed when the man pulled out a gun and pistol-whipped the older man. Other patrons in the restaurant screamed and moved away from the man. You saw movement out of the corner of your eye and turned to see Deacon beside you. He pulled you around the table and pulled you down to the ground. He told you to stay there before turning back towards the commotion.

You peered around the table to find the woman was forced to take off her jewelry and pass over her bag. Deacon raised his gun and announced he was LAPD. You were shocked. He was outnumbered and you had no idea if anyone else carried. You turned your attention to the other group members. One ran out once the hostility started, and two others looked at each other in a mix of disbelief and anger. You took this as a sign this wasn't planned. It also seemed like the group wasn't willing to kill. The man aimed his pistol at Deacon but refrained from firing, resorting to yelling instead. This scared all of the now hostages but only made Deacon feel better. If talking meant not shooting, he was okay with it.

It was hard for you to make out what he was saying, but you could tell he was scared. He likely acted on impulse and was struggling to de-escalate the situation. It's unlikely they knew a cop would be there, especially since your name was on the reservation. A couple of people tried to weasel their way out of their booths and sneak away but that only made the man more upset. His audience was leaving. He aimed his pistol and the nearby chandelier and fired, leaving you to scramble from your hiding spot as glass debris fell around you and nicked at your skin.

 You tried not to think about the blood pooling on your arms and face and just focused on finding cover elsewhere. Deacon had to trust the best way he could help was by keeping his gun raised, and trying to talk the man down. The other guys noticed the situation getting progressively worse and tried pulling him back towards the door, but it only angered the man more. He whipped around to yell at them, giving Deacon an opening to run and tackle the man. 

You were shocked because there was no telling what the other guys would do. Fortunately, the man's accomplices took the lowered guns as a sign to run. Your eyes followed them through to windows as they ran across the street. They didn't get far before police cars cut them off, and they were forced to surrender. 

Hearing shouting, you looked back to your date pulling the man up from the ground, his hands held behind his back. The gun was kicked away, and before long people wearing SWAT uniforms arrived, putting handcuffs on the gunman, and taking him away. Deacon didn't waste any time running over to you and looking at your various cuts. 

“I'm so sorry, (Y/N).” He grabbed the black napkin from the table to press it against your forehead, making you wince. 

“Y-... You didn't shoot the chandelier,” You looked around at the chaos surrounding you. EMT’s loaded the old man onto the gurney. Patrons hugged and made their way to their tables, unsure of what happens next. “Everyone’s okay thanks to you. You called the police?” you asked as he held your hand over the napkin, a silent request for you to hold pressure. 

“I texted a coworker. They took care of getting a team here. I don't think they called the patrol cars though. Maybe the host called.” He looked over your other scrapes, gauging how much medical attention you needed. “I think some of these need stitches…” Deacon looked over to see the EMTs occupied with the elderly man, and some other people complaining of heart rates.

“I still think I’m too shaken up to drive-” You were interrupted.

“I'll take you.” Deacon placed his hands on top of yours.

“Okay.” You sheepishly responded. You let him pull you up and with a hand on the small of your back he led you to his car. Deacon was helping you into the passenger seat when an officer ran over.

“Deac! You okay, man?” The man rested his hand on the open door looking at the two of you.

“Yeah, Yeah. Thanks for coming so quickly, Hondo.” He nodded looking towards the restaurant and the guests funneling out. Another two teammates ran over to you, and the idea that you were meeting his squad set in. You felt yourself sink into the seat, as you looked at the ground.

“Hey! Is this your date?” One of the other teammates asked.

“Are you okay?” Another member asked.

When you hesitated to respond Deacon spoke up on your behalf. “Luca, I knew it was wrong to hope I’d get through this date without you crazies. This is (Y/N). She got cut up by the chandelier, so I was going to take her to the hospital to get patched up.”

“You know you gotta meet the squad family early! I’m Luca, this is Chris, and that is Hondo.” The man explained. You tried to nod along, but the shock and the blood loss made you dizzy. 

“Uhh, yeah yall need to get going. We can do introductions later.” Hondo said, taping his teammate's shoulders. You have him a smile, before waving at them. Deacon shut your door and jogged around to the other side. Once he was inside he sped off, quickly navigating the Friday night traffic.  You occasionally zoned out, putting gaps in your memory. Deacon tried to keep a hand on you at all times to help ground you. He helped you check in, and stayed by your side as you got stitched up. He stepped out a couple of times to take phone calls. He profusely apologized every time, even with you explaining it was okay.

The nurse finished with your bandages and instructed you to keep your injuries clean and dry. He left, giving you and Deacon time alone before you had to head out. You sat in silence for a while, his hand in yours. You felt yourself zoning out again, and Deacon must have noticed too because he spoke quietly, drawing you back to the present.

“How are you feeling?” He rubbed the back of your hand, a concerned expression on his face.

“... I'm hurting, but I’m alive. This is what you experience every day?” You kept your eyes on the floor.

“I usually have a lot more warning, and protection, but yeah. It can be hard to digest and process emotions when things like this happen. Your wounds are large enough to raise some concern for infection too. Don't think you can't reach out… okay?”

“Thank you, Deacon. Know that I'll take you up on that.” Your worries dissolved, finally being safe and patched up.

“Are you ready to head out? I can just take you home.” Deacon suggested.

“And leave my car at the restaurant? I don't have a way to get it back to my apartment.” 

“I'll pick you up to grab it tomorrow morning. Or I’m sure I can have Hondo drive it back for you if you're worried about it being at the restaurant that was just robbed.” He was happy to make any accommodation if it meant you wouldn't worry as much. 

“That’s… really nice. I’d like that- you can just take me home though. My car should be fine.” You blushed, excited to extend the date longer. With a plan in place, Deacon led you to the lobby, and out of the clinic. He, once again, helped you into your seat before letting you direct him to your house. The ride was relatively quiet. The only thing on your mind was working up the courage to invite him in. You worried he would take it the wrong way, or think you were just expecting sex. Deacon pulled into your spot in the parking garage, slowly turning to you. 

“This place is… sketchy.” He mumbled.

“Most apartments in the heart of LA are…” You smiled. Deacon watched as your smile faded, watching the gears turn in your brain. “...Would you want to come in? I mean- like, just to talk. I don’t want this date to end.” He smiled back, making you comfortable by adding, “If you don't have a bedtime tonight, that is.”

“I would like that,” He laughed before continuing. “Annie has the kids this weekend.” You smiled and reached for your door handle. He put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. You couldn't help but laugh and gently shake your head as he ran around to help you out of the car.

You led him to your apartment, his hand never leaving your waist. You wouldn't have guessed his love language was touch, but it was comforting regardless. You tried to think about the state of your apartment, deciding it was probably fine. You unlocked your door, and let him inside.

Deacon took in your apartment, just as cozy as your office. He could tell you took pride in your space and enjoyed just being in it. The overhead lights were off, and lamps and soft warm light made the living room very inviting. He looked for more pictures on the walls, finding more from hikes and parties. You asked him if he wanted something to drink, and he quietly said he'd have whatever you were having. Deacon was focused on the walls of your home. He heard two beers clink against the coffee table. He soon after felt your arms wrap around his waist from behind.

“You do this with all your first dates?” He asked laying his hands on top of yours. 

“This date wasn't a normal one, and you know that.” You laughed into his back. You retracted your hands and led him over to your couch, where your drinks were. He sat down and grabbed his beer, putting his arm over the back of the couch and urging you to sit by him. 

You obliged, cuddling up close to him. A brief silence settled between the two of you until you thought back to how you met. 

“Did you and Mathew talk more about his writing?” You ran your finger over the ridges in the bottle.

“I did. I think it brought us closer together. He decided to show Annie, too. I think it's helping us understand what he's going through and helps him know he can still rely on both of his parents.” He paused to gauge your reaction at the mention of Annie, but the reaction on your face was happiness—happiness for his son and his family. “It’s all thanks to you, you know…” He took a sip of his drink.

“Ah, it's my job, Deacon. Those kids are important to me, and they all need support from their school. It takes a village, or whatever the saying is.” You furrowed your eyebrows thinking about the countless visits kids have had with you, and how many students crashed your office during their lunch to discuss their feelings. The students who you let nap on your chairs, the lunch program you helped run, and so many more small moments that added up to big changes for students. 

“Well, whatever you're doing it's working. Lila thinks you're great too. Over the past few weeks, they haven't stopped talking about you.” He mentioned.

“Thank you.” You felt uncertain about how the kids gushed about you up around Annie, so kept the response short. Deacon must have noticed because he grabbed your hand. You looked up at him and smiled.

“I’m glad you asked me out.” You said quietly.

“I’m glad you didn't think it was weird.” Deacon earned a laugh from you. “So, does that mean you'll go on a second one with me?” He asked.

“It does, but you gotta pick the restaurant this time.”

The end :P

Taglist? Thanks for the support!

@pear-1206

[beefrobeefcal]

Sad Fish Blue Fish feat. Frankie & f!reader

Summary: Frankie's POV - what has he been up to while you rebuild your life?. Part 5 of There are Other Fish in the Sea

Pairing: Frankie, Ezra & Mouse | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,170

Content Warnings: frankie learning the hard way, frankie wallowing in misery, discussion of sobriety, post-break up blues, swearing, poor coping mechanisms, toxic masculinity, fragile male egos, bad decisions made by men, mentions of blood, therapy, mentions of intoxication

Author's Notes: Frankie is a fuckboi. Will is once again a big floppy donkey dink. News at 11.

Thank you to @strang3lov3 and @noxturnalpascal for brainstorming this with me, and to @bitchesuntitled for their eyes and love.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

It hadn’t been fair. None of it. The way he’d treated you or the way you abandoned him. You didn’t even give him a chance to apologize, to explain! The way you looked at him, wounded, hurt, furious, scared, as Benny led you out of your shared home for the last time, it broke him. 

But he never thought that was the end. How could it be? You were his and he was yours. His chest felt hollow. 

Frankie saw Will after Benny had broken his nose for trying to force you back home with him. He heard through the grapevine that you had moved in with Benny and were rebuilding your life - but how could you rebuild it without him? Why would you do that when the life you had together just needed some reinforcement? How could you just declare it over and decide he wasn’t a part of your future anymore?

It was Santi who suggested Frankie needed help. Confronting him in the garage as Frankie drank countless beers while attempting to fix a broken headlight on his truck. The calm way Santi approached him with sad eyes, telling him that he couldn’t stand to see his brother lose more and do nothing about it. Frankie didn’t think he could say no, not at that moment anyway. 

Santi was the one who took him to a treatment centre and was also the one to pick him up 30-days later where Frankie emerged, sober. His yearning to show you he could do better had fueled him, the remorse and regret always under the surface, ready to derail any progress he made, but he was proud to have completed the program. 

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he got out, but being told by Benny to stay away from you, that you didn’t need his bullshit in your life and you deserved a clean break from him, he wasn’t ready for. Frankie’s already fragile heart broke into pieces as someone he thought was his best friend so cruelly ripped away his chance at getting you to come back home. 

The days were bearable. He could get through them because he was always with someone, Santi having moved in with him to keep him company and on the straight and narrow. Frankie went to work, to AA, to his therapist, to the grocery store, to Will’s house… but the nights. He was warned by his counselor in rehab that the nights would be the worst, and he would need to work on his coping and communication to get through them in the beginning.

He would lay awake in your formerly shared bed, covered in the sheets you had bought at a Black Friday sale a few years back that you were so proud of what a deal you’d snagged them on. He would stare at the ceiling, counting the glow in the dark stars you’d put up there when he’d broken his leg and couldn’t go on a camping trip with the guys. He would hear the wind chime you’d made out of seashells you brought home from the beach outside the bedroom window. Santi had suggested making some small changes, slowly getting rid of the ghost of your presence around the house, but Frankie refused. He wasn’t ready to let go of what little he had left of you, even if it was slowly eroding away his heart and adding to that hollowed-out feeling in his chest.

There wasn’t an inch of this home that wasn’t laced with the memory of you, and more often than not, Frankie would fall asleep with his eyes flooded with tears, grieving over your absence.

*****

“... and that’s why letting go has to come from you, not from her.”

Frankie looked up from his tattered cuticles at that. He liked his therapist, Martin, but this session had been rough. He’d finally admitted that maybe he needed to let go but said that he needed you to do it first. AlthoughMartin’s response wasn’t entirely unexpected, he still didn’t like it.

“No. I need her to - “

“She did that when she left, man.” Martin said, sympathy and understanding written all over his face. “You’re the one still holding on.”

Frankie scoffed, and looked away, jaw clenched. “No, she left but I fixed - “

“Listen to what you’re say -”

“No!”, Frankie boomed, anger and hurt boiling over. “No! I fixed what needed fixing an-and she - “, he sucked back an angry sob as his emotions overtook. “- she shouldn’t… she can’t do - no! I love her!”

Martin put his notebook and pen on the side table, leaned forward while offering a box of kleenex, and rested his elbows on his knees. “I know you love her. But we talked about this: a relationship needs both people on board. If one leaves, the other has to respect that.”

Frankie huffed and threw box of kleenex on the floor, then flopped back in his seat, muttering a fuck! under his breath. He rubbed his hands on his face, feeling overwhelmed and scared. Scared? Scared. He was scared. The reality of you and him actually being done was fully setting in and it terrified him. 

Martin reached forward and put a hand on Frankie’s knee. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Frankie let out a shaky breath, letting the grief and anguish and acceptance wash over him. “It’s really done, isn’t it?”

Martin nodded. The remainder of the session was spent on how Frankie could move forward now that he had accepted the truth of it. 

*****

He sat in front of his laptop, rereading his email to you. He’d managed to get your consent via Benny via Santi to send you one as a way to communicate with you, and taking Martin’s advice, he’d written a ‘letting go’ message to you. 

Mouse,

I’m writing to tell you that as much as I love you, you cannot come back. I am working towards sobriety and the clarity I have received in this pursuit helped me realize that you are not good for me. 

I know I am not blameless, and I am sorry for any hurt I caused you. But I need you to understand how much pain you caused me. I made a lot of unhealthy choices with you and while I know you did things out of love, they were harmful to me. I need a clean break. 

I am letting go and you should, too. 

Yours, 

Frankie

There wasn’t a word of truth in that message but he hit send anyways. He didn’t feel any better afterwards, but he did start taking down the glow in the dark stars.

*****

Kimberly, the receptionist at the garage he worked at, made eyes at him while he spoke to a customer about the muffler in his car that needed replacement. As he tried to focus on the customer’s questions about how long it would take or how much it would cost, he couldn’t stop himself from throwing glances at her. 

That’s all it took for Frankie to take the next step in letting you go. 

Kimberly was nothing like you. She was quieter and more subdued, with Frankie having to pull conversations out of her. Things didn’t flow naturally and Frankie tried to think if this is how it was for you and him when you first started dating too. Part of him knew he shouldn’t be comparing everything she did to how he thought you would, but he couldn’t help it. Even the first time they fucked, it didn’t feel the same and that hollow part of his chest seemed to grow everytime he was intimate with Kimberly. 

Santi had badgered him to make his relationship ‘Instagram official’ with a selfie and he reluctantly took a selfie with her at one of Will’s barbeques, slapping on his smile for a few and kissing Kimberly’s cheek for a few more. Santi had the final say in which one he posted - along with the caption calling her ‘Princess’ - while Will scowled at Frankie. Will had made it known that he didn’t think Frankie was trying hard enough to get you back, and he had been overtly and loudly critical of him. 

Everytime Will saw Frankie near Kimberly, he would give her a dirty look and speak to Frankie as if Kimberly wasn’t there. Despite her mentioning it to him, Frankie would tell her that Will was just upset because you were his cousin and he was taking the breakup hard. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t have the spine to stand up to Will and tell him to back off. 

After three months of dating, Kimberly was the one to break it off, telling Frankie that she couldn’t compete with a memory and she didn’t think he was ready for a relationship with her. 

He didn’t fight to keep her because he knew she was right.

*****

A few weeks later, Frankie was at home on the back porch drinking a diet coke with Santi. A contemplative silence lingered between them, and Frankie could tell that Santi was debating something. Before he could ask him what he was thinking about, Santi spoke softly.

“I don’t think you’ve let her go.”

A pause, then Frankie responded. “I haven’t.”

Santi nodded and took a drink. “Will thinks you should -”

Frankie groaned out a sigh. “Fuck Will.”

“I know, but he is not letting this go. He - hermano, Will is determined that you and Mouse get back together -”

“Jesus!”, Frankie huffed out. “Everyone has an opinion on what we should do but no one has even bothered to ask what I want!”

Santi’s brows furrowed as he looked at him. “Okay… so what do you want?”

“I want to move on. I want to do right by her and let her go. I also want her to come back, and be mine again. I really want to go back in time and not fuck all of this up. Most of all I want her to be happy and I want to be happy…”, he rambled out, then sat back in his chair, groaning. “I wish I didn’t send that stupid email.”

“What email?”

Frankie knew he had to tell someone about the email he’d sent you; he hadn’t even told his therapist Martin about it yet. He’d read and reread it after sending it and he knew you’d received it, but you hadn’t responded, and he couldn’t blame you. He shouldn’t have sent it without having someone else read it beforehand - they would have told him it was a shitty message to send, placing way too much blame on you. He felt the hot, sick feeling of shame and anxiety wash over his body, making him feel nauseous, every time he thought about it. 

Frankie pulled out his phone and handed it to Santi, the message he’d sent you on the screen. Santi read it and Frankie saw the disappointment cross his face as he read the email. 

“What the fuck, Frankie?!”

*****

It was Thursday morning, and Frankie was on lunch when his phone buzzed in his pocket. A message from Will was on his home screen reading:

Mouse alone this wknd. Benny camping.

Frankie was tired. His eyes read the words and he knew what this was: it was a direct order from his commanding officer. He sigh and responded with:

Affirmative.

Frankie’s reply was promptly reacted to with a thumb’s up. He knew Will meant well, knowing that Will knew deep down this is what Frankie truly wanted, but something about it made him feel uneasy. 

That evening, Frankie drove down towards Benny’s apartment building, debating if this really was a good idea. He was so lost in thought, he almost missed seeing you walk into the corner store. Your hair was styled differently but he recognized it was you by your jacket and the way you walked. He frantically crossed the oncoming lane to turn into a parking lot, looking for a spot.

Once parked, he had to take a minute to calm down before he went into the store. Frankie knew he couldn’t approach you shaky and out of breath; he needed to be calm and collected, and at that moment he was anything but. His feet seemed to be working independently of the rest of him as they walked right into the store and his heart beat hard against the inside of his rib cage as he finally found the aisle you were in. 

You hadn’t noticed him yet and you looked serene. Content and at peace, something he hadn’t seen in so long, and he felt like his hollowed-out chest was cracking open at the ribs, a greedy gaping maw wanting to devour and absorb you, never letting you go again. You were casually looking at the label of a bottle of olive oil and you were sublime in doing so. He didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat.

He regretted it as soon as he did it. The moment your eyes were on him, he watched your walls come up. That perfect casual beauty you carried when you didn’t know you were being watched was twisting into a withdrawn, defensive stare, squared directly at him. He watched you grow colder and closed off with each word that came out of him, like a brick wall slowly being reinforced. 

When you’d shoved your shopping basket into his chest and left the store in a hurry, he knew better than to chase you. He had watched you recede and he felt like he made a horrible mistake - he’d driven you away and lost you. He felt as if this was the final nail in the coffin. 

The sorrow and shame he felt began to morph into anger as he stormed out of the store and back to his truck. Will. This was Will’s fault. As he drove directly to Will’s house, his blind fury grew, all rationale leaving him as he slammed all blame solely on Will for this. 

Frankie barely parked his truck, leaving the driver’s side door open and the engine running, then barreled up to Will’s door. Before Will even had the door open all the way, Frankie shoved his way in, slamming Will against the wall. 

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

*****

It had taken Will a lot longer to subdue Frankie than he would have thought, but he’d eventually managed to do so, gradually gaining the upper hand and pinning the larger man facedown on the floor. 

“You need to calm the fuck down, Morales!”, he barked, leaning down as he restrained Frankie. 

He struggled against the hold he was under, but finally relented. As he relaxed his body, the overwhelming sadness that hid behind his anger came pouring forth. Will could do nothing but release Frankie and watch him break down in his hallway. 

*****

Word travels fast. Before the end of the weekend Frankie had received a scathing voicemail from Benny, warning him to never approach you again like that and Santi had texted him ‘wtf were you thinking?’ in all caps. Both had broached this without him telling them a thing, so clearly you had told Benny and then the news traveled on. Frankie stayed hidden away in his room, tail between his legs.

A few weeks later in the evening, Frankie answered the door after a violent assault was levied on his doorbell. It was Will, seemingly returning the favour, and he was very worked up.

“Mouse has a lot of fucking nerve!”, he bellowed as he stomped into the house. “She fucking told me - ME!! - that I was the stubborn one! She wouldn’t even listen to me!”

Frankie had stepped back, slightly concerned with the wild look in Will’s eyes. “What? Why did you go see her? What happen -”

“She is so fucking selfish!”

Frankie’s eyes widened at Will. Sure, you could be hard-headed but selfish? 

“She doesn’t get it! Mouse doesn’t get what she’s done!”

He tried to interrupt Will, not wanting to hear anything more. He shook his head, trying to grab Will by the shoulders. 

“No! Fish, she wrecked the family! All she had to do was forgive you- that’s it! Just accept that you made a fucking mistake and grow the fuck u-”

“WILL!!”, Frankie boomed, gripping his shoulders and harshly slamming him against the wall behind him. “STOP IT!”

Will’s chest heaved and his red face skewed further in rage. Frankie knew that it was ironic in the most hypocritical way that he was the one telling Will to stop but he needed to know what happened and if you were okay before he could let his own temper take over. Before he could get another word out though, Will shoved him off and stormed back out the door. Frankie could only watch as Will’s car screeched away from the curb and down the street. He quickly grabbed his phone and called Benny, begging under his breath for him to pick up.

A few rings then voicemail.

A few rings then voicemail again.

And again.

The sixth time he called, Benny finally picked up and snarled “What, Fish?!”

“Is- Ben, is she okay?”

Benny let out a deep sigh on the other end of the line followed by a harsh, “She’s fine.”

Frankie swallowed hard; he didn’t believe that she was fine. He sucked back a sharp breath and asked again, ‘Is. She. Okay?”

“She’s fine, Fish!” Benny huffed. “She left to see Ez - her new boyfr- person.”

Frankie froze. He could feel the prickles and tingles of anxiety creep over his skin as Benny all but confirmed that you’d moved on and were with someone else. He didn’t know how long he stood in his open doorway, staring at the street with his phone to his ear when Benny called out, “Fish? Fish? Frankie! Frankie, you there??”

Frankie nervously cleared his throat and realized he was shaking. “Y-yeah… I’m here. Thanks, Ben… I- uh.. I gotta go.”

And he hung up. 

Santi came back to the house that night to the kitchen and living room turned over, looking like they’d been robbed, and speckles of blood strewn throughout. He’s been warned by Benny that Frankie might be in rough shape, and he grew more worried as he called out for Frankie, looking for him throughout every room. He finally looked down the hallway and saw light coming from under his bedroom door. He feared the worst as he approached and opened it.

Frankie was sitting on the floor leaning up against his bed, sobbing quietly as he held the glow in the dark stars in his bloody hands. 

*****

A month or so later, Frankie stumbled getting up off the couch as there was a frantic knocking at the front door. 

“Jesus Christ!”, he hissed as he banged his knee on the side table in his haste. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

He ripped the door open, expecting to see anyone or anything other than what he did. 

You. 

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[starsfic]

Breakfast

Continuation of "Weak Little Thing", where Stan starts to get things ready for the twins to live with him and Ford full-time.

Tomorrow, apparently, meant eight o'clock in the morning.

Ford wasn't ready. Mostly because he hadn't slept a wink.

He had spent thirty years on the run in the multiverse, a type of situation that was more catnaps and eating scraps. He found himself flinching at every odd noise, ready to get up and move. There was also the fear of Bill trying to reach out to him again, hoping that he would ignore the brief few minutes he spent in the Nightmare Realm. Or not, because Bill's logic was weird like that.

And, well...

"Here," Stanley said, interrupting his thoughts of being called a con man. He set down what looked to be a pretty delicious breakfast of biscuits and gravy, paired with fruit juice and milk. In front of his and Ford's seats, he set down steaming cups of coffee. "Breakfast."

"Wow," his great-niece- he was pretty sure her name started with M- gasped. "Grunkle Stan, this is way nicer than usual!"

His great-nephew, the one who kept threatening to be sick, raised a brow. "Is this so we forget about everything that happened yesterday?"

"No," Stan said, grabbing some forks. Three of them, actually. Ford opened his mouth, ready to call it out, until Stan nodded his head. Ford followed his nod and realized that his nephew looked weirdly pale at the sight of them. He took his spoon with a quiet thanks. "This is because I'm going to have to be pretty honest about a lot of heavy stuff, and I at least want you guys to have a good breakfast."

The kids exchanged looks. Neither of them made a move for the food. "Okay," his niece said. "What about?"

Stanley took a sip of his coffee, his eyes hollow and distant. "Okay," he said. "You guys...know why you're staying with me for the summer, right?"

"Because our parents wanted us to get some fresh air," his nephew (he really needed to learn their names) said. The words sounded hollow and false. Ford wouldn't be surprised if that was the lie that had been told to them.

"Yeah, yeah, that's true," Stanley sipped his coffee even more. "You two also know your parents are going through a bit of a rough patch." He tensed and Ford could see anger blazing in his eyes. Not at the kid, but at their parents.

Ford couldn't blame them. Were they really not telling their kids themselves?

"They're getting divorced, aren't they?" His great-nephew's voice was hollow. "They're not just talking to lawyers and counselors anymore. They've started actually going through it." His great-niece went stiff, eyes big and watery.

"Oh, pumpkin-" Ford jolted more at the pet name than the rush of motion that was his niece rushing from her spot to curl up in Stanley's arms. He wrapped his arms around her quickly, his hand gently rubbing her back. "I promise, they both love you so much. They didn't want you two getting stuck in the middle, so they've decided that, until the divorce case is over, you two would be living with me here in town."

"But-" his niece gasped, pulling her face away. "You were gonna send us back when you lost the Shack? Doesn't that mean-"

"You were gonna be sent to Florida to hang out with Grandpa Shermie," Stanley said, unaware of Ford gaping at lost the Shack.

"Is the case dragging out because of us?" his nephew asked, his face blank of emotion. "They aren't going to try and separate us for custody, are they?"

"No," Stan said, his voice firm. "Absolutely not. That's the one thing they're agreeing on. I'm not sure if that will drag the case out or not, since it hasn't started yet." He patted his niece's back. "In any case, we need to talk about full-time house rules, especially when school starts." He turned his gaze to his niece, an attempt at a smile forming. "You get to go to the same school Candy and Grenda attend, Mabel."

His niece- Mabel, right- sniffled and looked up. "Do Wendy and her friends also go there?"

"Yeah," Stanley said. "I wouldn't be surprised." He gently made a pushing motion and Mabel hopped off his lap to head back to her seat. Her eyes were still watery, but a little smile was trying to pull at her face. Her twin reached out and squeezed her hand when she sat down and that smile became firmer. "Now, we were gonna discuss rules now during breakfast, but I think it's better that we wait till lunch. I need to make appointments at the doctor's office for all three of you and I want that set in stone first."

Wait. "Three of you?" Ford repeated. "Don't you need appointments for just the kids?"

Stan turned his head and stared him down.

"...oh."