#you could even make the argument that his parents expect him to be some sort of prodigy or smth if you wanna go that route

[wannabe-minion-of-chaos]

Don't mind me just

Smacks Gregory over the head with burnt out gifted kid syndrome™

[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us — JJK ,, index ,, about taglist

Chapter 02 — distraction ✎

fic summary: you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

nsfw warnings: smut; lots of kissing, lots of touching lol, oral (male recieving, fem too? kinda), sucking fingers, doggy style, unprotected sex (shes using birth control so yep, be safe!) use of ‘good girl’

wc: 6k

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @kyuupii @fluttershypoo @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @mar-lo-pap @jungkooks-wife @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @leemonis-blog

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @sweetmimosa28

abt series taglist: send me an ask w the series title !!

“i have to go.”

“why don’t you just come back home? you can start over, and this time, maybe you’ll be more like your brother.”

you sigh.

“mom, i don’t want to be him,” you say quietly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. on the other end, you hear her let out a soft, disapproving tsk, a sound that always manages to make you feel a little smaller.

“aren’t you clearly struggling with school? if you were here with us, with your brother, we’d help you. you’d be fine,” she insists, as if coming home would magically fix everything.

you roll your eyes.

“i really have to go.”

“___, just listen to—”

but before she can finish, you end the call, staring at the blank screen for a moment.

there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, one that refuses to fade, no matter how much you try to brush it off. its like a quiet reminder of all the things you’re trying to avoid.

go back home?

after everything you’ve been through to study what you want, to finally live on your own terms. every argument, every latenight fight with your parents, all just to claim a bit of freedom.

you worked so hard to break free from their expectations, to stand on your own.

you even transferred universities just to escape the constant pressure back in your hometown. no matter what you did, it was never enough. every choice was somehow wrong, not ‘their way.’

you can’t go back now.

not until you’ve made it, not until you have something real to prove them wrong. you have to be successful, if only to show them that your way was the right way all along.

“hey, are you done thinking? never seen anyone contemplate cheerios this hard.”

min yoongi’s low voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up, finding him behind the cash register, his lips curving into a small smile.

“just wondering if i can actually trust your store’s products. what if you are some sort of cheerio secret agent and you're trying to poison me?” you joke, handing him the money.

“oh no, you figured it out. we’ve been poisoning the cheerios. now how am i gonna explain to my boss that our mission failed?” he dramatically placesb a hand on his forehead as if you revealed his deepest darkest secret. you can’t help but chuckle, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit.

“bad day?” he asks, his gaze softening a bit as he opens the cash register.

min yoongi; your friend.

well, he's more like your senior. he graduated last year and he is working parttime at this convenience store cuz he thinks in this way he could spend some time outside.

you didn't question him about it any further.

you don’t usually come here unless it’s an emergency, and breakfast for tomorrow qualifies as pretty urgent, or so you tell yourself.

“something like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nods slightly. “well,” he begins, “i’m sorry i can’t give you a discount,” he adds, trying to lighten the mood.

you chuckle, the corners of your mouth lifting. “aw, that’s too bad. i thought i might get these cheerios for free.”

he smiles softly, “maybe some other time,"

you smile back at yoongi and turn to leave. but then you almost bump your head against a man’s chest, stumbling back in surprise.

that was close.

you look up to apologize, but your words get caught in your throat as you take in his appearance.

he’s handsome.

no, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. his face is sculpted to perfection, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. his dark eyes seem to pierce right through you, and his long, dark hair falls effortlessly over his forehead.

but there’s something else,

he looks... mad?

you quickly gather yourself, your cheeks warming slightly. “sorry,” you blurt out, stepping aside to let him pass.

as you walk out of the store, you catch a snippet of conversation behind you.

“are you still upset about her, jungkook?” yoongi’s voice carries just enough for you to hear.

you try to shake it off, not wanting to dwell on whatever is unfolding behind you. it’s not your business, after all.

you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you leave the store, and try to focus on the tasks ahead of you.

“it doesn’t make any sense, hyung,” jungkook scoffs, the frustration bubbling up inside him.

“when did she ever make sense?” yoongi replies dryly, not backing down as he meets jungkook’s glare. the tension in the air feels thick, but yoongi isn’t afraid to speak his mind.

“from my point of view, you’re now a free man. free from all the bullshit you’ve been through,” yoongi explains, hoping to lift jungkook’s spirits.

“what bullshit? i was happy. we were happy,” jungkook frowns, his confusion evident. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, struggling to comprehend yoongi’s words.

“that’s what she wanted you to think,” yoongi replies, his tone serious. “and to be honest, that’s what you always did. you did whatever she wanted. you changed for her.”

“i loved her,” jungkook insists, his voice a bit softer but still filled with conviction, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

“did you? really?” yoongi presses, searching jungkook’s eyes for any hint of doubt. he knows this is a tough conversation, but it needs to be talked out.

jungkook looks away and mutters. “you don’t get it,”

yoongi’s expression softens. he presses his lips together as he looks at jungkook, feeling bad for him. “i’m sorry, jungkook. but you really have to let it go now. it’s been two weeks. it’s time to start moving on.”

jungkook stays silent.

instead of responding, he reaches for a lollipop displayed near the cash register, the bright colors contrasting sharply with his gloomy mood. he hands yoongi some money, more than what the lollipop costs, as if he’s paying for more than just candy.

“do you want the change, or can i keep it as a tip for my great service slash friendship?” yoongi tries to lighten the mood, hoping to bring a smile to jungkook’s face.

and it does.

jungkook’s lips curl into a faint smile, a small but genuine response. “keep it,” he says softly.

as jungkook turns to leave, yoongi watches him go, feeling sad for his friend.

“bad day indeed.”

you're sat on a bench in the park near the convenience store, lost in your own thoughts. the quiet sounds of the evening settle around you, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and your own sighs mingling with the cool air.

you’re not really thinking about anything in particular, just letting your mind wander in that aimless way it does when everything feels overwhelming.

then, a loud voice cuts through your thoughts.

“no, i know you're hiding something from me!” someone snaps, his voice taut with irritation. “fine! have it your way then.”

curious, you glance over and recognize him immediately; the same man from earlier at the store, the one you’d nearly bumped into.

he’s pacing as he talks on his phone, one hand running through his dark hair in exasperation. his jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him even from a distance.

after a moment, he ends the call with an aggravated sigh, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he makes his way into the park, still visibly upset. he barely notices his surroundings as he walks closer to where you’re sitting.

he sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, muttering something under his breath as if willing the frustration to melt away. you can’t help but stare a little, like an idiot.

then his eyes snap open and land directly on you.

“got a problem with me?” his voice is sharp, cutting through the silence between you.

you blink, startled, and stand up instinctively. “excuse me?”

he turns fully to face you, his eyes never leaving yours. “i asked, you got a problem with me?”

“no.” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“good.”

wow. nice attitude.

just as you’re about to walk away, he calls out again.

“never seen you around here before.”

“pardon?” you turn back, surprised.

“you’re yoongi's friend, right?” he asks,

you cross your arms, giving him a wary look. “why do you care?”

he shrugs, almost nonchalant. “my bad, just curious. never seen yoongi smile at a normal customer before, so i assumed.”

“oh,” you reply, softening just a bit. “well, i guess you could say we're friends.”

he raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you guess?”

you offer a small shrug of your own. “he used to help me when i was still a freshman, and he still tries to whenever he can. i'd say he's like my teacher, in a way. it’s not like we hang out or anything, though.”

he tilts his head, considering your words. “well, consider yourselves friends. trust me, he doesn’t just help anyone.”

you narrow your eyes slightly, still wary. “and who are you, exactly?”

“jeon jungkook,” he says, extending a hand with a surprisingly polite nod. instinctively, you reach out and shake it, his grip firm. “since you're yoongi's friend, i think we go to the same university. though this is the first time i’m seeing you.”

“same, i am ___,” you pull your hand back.

“what are you doing here, in the middle of the night? didn’t your parents ever tell you not to go out alone?” he asks, the way he talks is somewhere between teasing and serious. you can't quiet get what it is but something about it grates on your nerves, like he's playing at being concerned but in a way that feels almost mocking.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back, meeting his gaze head on.

he doesn’t flinch, only tilts his head slightly. “i always come here,” he says, his voice calm, almost like a matterof fact.

“same,” you respond. “during the day.”

he quirks a brow, “so why are you in my night shift?”

you scoff, a laugh slipping out before you can stop it. “this isn’t your place or ‘shift,’ you know."

“well, you come here during the day; i come here at night. sounds like shifts to me,” he says with a shrug, and you catch the playfulness on his face.

“guess i’m overtiming, then,” you say, glancing away to hide your own smirk. “don’t mind me.”

he stays silent.

“you’ve got your own shit to deal with, huh?” he says, his voice breaking the quiet.

“why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, catching him a little off guard. “i mean, you don’t even know me.”

he raises an eyebrow, unphased. “i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, mimicking your answer from before.

you narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “i don’t think i want to talk about my problems with a random stranger.”

“problems…” he echoes, looking you up and down like he’s trying to figure you out. “let me guess. got into a fight with your boyfriend?”

“no,” you say quickly, rolling your eyes. “i don’t have one.” for a second, you think you catch a flicker of surprise on his face. “what about you? girlfriend mad at you?”

his face shifts, something almost vulnerable passing over his features before he looks away. “guess you could say that,” he mutters. “since she broke things off with me.”

a silence stretches between you two.

“i’m… sorry to hear that,” you finally say, feeling the awkwardness settle around you.

you didn't expect that.

honestly, the idea of someone like him getting dumped hadn’t even crossed your mind. a guy who looks like that—that intense aura—doesn’t exactly seem like the type to get left behind.

you assumed he’d be the one calling the shots, the one walking away. but here he is, single and clearly dealing with the aftermath of something that’s weighing on him. its surprising.

a thought crosses yourmind.

if someone could leave him, someone who had a place in his life and a claim to his heart, maybe he’s not as perfect as he seems on the outside. maybe there’s something beneath the surface, something that’s harder to deal with than his looks would suggest.

it’s like a puzzle you didn’t even mean to start solving, yet here you are, wondering if there’s more to him than just that handsome face.

but then you shake the thought away. he’s a stranger. a random guy you happened to bump into, quite literally, at a park in the middle of the night. it’s not like you’ll see him again after tonight. or, at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

because, really, why should you care?

whatever his story is, it’s none of your business.

“anyway, hope you figure your problems out.” he says, his gaze flickering away as if he’s eager to dodge any deeper conversation.

“likewise,” you reply.

without warning, he pulls a lollipop from his pocket, holding it out to you. “here,” he says, waiting for you to take it.

you reach out slowly, raising an eyebrow. “thanks?”

he smirks, “again, did your parents never tell you not to take candy from strangers?”

“maybe i like to be a little rebellious,” you say, smirking back at him and he shakes his head smiling.

“well, go ahead, eat it. i don’t want you tossing it away. i spent a lot on that sucker,” he says, a playful grin spreading across his face. despite the oddness of the moment, a corner of your mouth quirks up.

you unwrap the lollipop, examining it with a critical eye before giving him a look that says it all.

he catches it, tilting his head in curiosity. “what?”

“i don’t think i like raspberry flavor,” you admit, holding the lollipop up like a trophy of sorts.

he squints at you, “you’ve never tasted one before?”

you shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “i don’t like raspberries, so i’m guessing this is more of the same.”

he shakes his head, lips twitching into a smirk. “that’s pretty bold, making assumptions without even trying it.”

“just give it a taste; maybe you'll like it,” he suggests, a teasing smile forming on his lips, clearly wanting you to try it. deep down, he doesn't even like raspberry flavor; he just picked it out randomly at the store.

“uh, no thanks. i don’t want that nasty taste on my tongue,” you reply, scrunching your nose a little . “but thanks, you could have—”

your words are abruptly cut off as he grabs your hand, the lollipop still held tightly between your fingers. in one swift motion, he leans in, wrapping his mouth around it. his tongue swirls around the candy, and then he pulls it out, his lips glistening with a reddish-pink hue that matches the flavor.

you're completely taken aback, eyes widening in shock.

oh what the fuck.

“yeah, you’re right. it does taste nasty,” he says, licking his lips as he releases your hand. “give it to me, i'll just throw it away or something”

suddenly, the lollipop feels trivial compared to what he just did. you stand there, completely speechless, your mind and heart racing as you try to process what jus happened.

“what?” he stares at you.

“you’re good with your tongue,” you say, the words slipping out before you can really think them through.

he pauses, his eyes widening for a second, and he chokes on nothing, almost like he’s been caught off guard mid-breath. “uh, what?” he finally manages, blinking rapidly.

realizing how that might’ve sounded, “i just meant... the lollipop. you seemed pretty skilled with it,” you clarify, though you’re aware it’s not really helping.

what are you even trying to say?

he looks at you, a smirk playing on his lips now. “uh-huh, sure,” he says, teasing you. “that’s what you meant.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “don’t flatter yourself, i was just making an observation.”

but the way he’s looking at you now, dark eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place, makes it hard to pretend that slip of the tongue didn’t mean more than you intended.

“so, do you want to suck on it?”

“huh?” you blink.

suck on what now?

“the lollipop” he clarifies, a small smile playing on his lips.

oh.

you clear your throat, fighting to keep a neutral expression. “no, definitely not, especially now that you had your tongue all over it.” you try to scrunch your nose, but any attempt at showing disgust falls flat with the heat rising in your cheeks.

“alright then, just asking if you changed your mind,” he shrugs, still holding your gaze.

“i still don’t want it,” you say quickly, trying to sound convincing.

“okay.” he blinks, unfazed.

“okay,” you repeat, awkwardly.

he gestures to the lollipop still in your hand. “uh, so… are you gonna keep holding it?”

you glance down, pulling your hand back. “i’m gonna throw it away,” you declare, though it feels a bit ridiculous now, given everything that just happened.

“i hope so,” he says, one side of his lips quirking up.

why do you kind of like his smile?

you try to shake your thought off, tossing the lollipop into a nearby trash can, trying to act as casual as possible.

“well, guess that's the end of that,” you say, hoping to sound nonchalant. he nods as he crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow, mimicking his stance. “do you usually hand out half-eaten lollipops to strangers?”

he laughs, low and soft, the sound surprisingly warm in the quiet night. “only when they look like they need a little distraction.”

you tilt your head. “oh? and what made you think i needed one?”

his eyes meet yours, his expression softening. “just a hunch,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. “we all got stuff we’d rather not think about, right?”

a pause.

there’s something unspoken between you two, a quiet understanding in the way you hold each other’s gaze.

he's right.

you are stressing about things you'd rather not think about, things that seem to cling to your mind no matter how hard you try to push them away.

and then there's him, a stranger but somehow not, going through his own mess. you can see it in his tired eyes, the way he keeps looking off into the distance as if trying to shake off whatever weight he's carrying.

you realize you don’t mind it; you don’t mind his company, or even the strange comfort of this shared silence.

both of you are here, each trying to forget whatever it is that’s eating at you. maybe that’s why this moment feels so easy.

”yeah,” you finally say, “guess we do.”

“i gotta go now,” you announce, hoping to put an end to whatever weird tension is building between the two of you.

he doesn't say anything. no goodbyes, no attempts to stop you. so you turn and start walking away, trying to shake off whatever just happened.

but before you can take more than a few steps, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. you stop, surprised, and turn back to face him. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to make you pause.

you meet his gaze, and there's something in his eyes—something intense, something that makes your stomach flip.

“would you like a distraction?” he asks, voice low, almost like a whisper meant just for you.

you blink, not sure if you heard him right. “what?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

instead of answering, he tugs you gently closer. your body stumbles forward, and your hands land on his chest to steady yourself. his heartbeat is strong under your palm, and suddenly, everything feels too close, too intense.

he looks down at you, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “i think i do,” he mutters. “don’t you?”

your mind is racing, trying to make sense of this.

is he asking what you think he’s asking?

he’s a stranger. someone you barely know beyond a couple of conversations and an awkward encounter in a convenience store.

yet there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it hard to think straight.

“yes,” you hear yourself say before you can even process it.

his lips curve into a satisfied smile, and without another word, he leans in and kisses you.

the world seems to stop as his mouth meets yours. it’s not hesitant or soft; it’s urgent, as if he’s been wanting this for longer than the short time you’ve known him. his hands slide up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

your fingers clutch his shirt, feeling the heat of his body against yours. it’s messy and impulsive, and he doesn't even care that you’re both in the middle of a park, under the dim glow of the streetlights.

right now, all you can think about is him. the way he tastes, the way he kisses you desperately.

maybe you do need this distraction.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, letting the kiss deepen. his lips are soft, and you moan as if you're melting into the kiss. there's something about the way his mouth moves against yours; like he's been waiting to do this.

“wait—” you pant as pull back, your heart pounding against your ribs, trying to gather your thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he asks in a low voice, “what happened?”

“we're... we're outside,” you point out, glancing around.

he tilts his head, his brows raising slightly as if that’s the least of his concerns. “so?” his voice is low and almost teasing, like he finds your hesitation cute.

you let out a scoffing laugh, “what do you mean so?wee’re literally in a children’s park.” you gesture to the swings and slides nearby, deserted at this hour but still... it’s a public space.

he pauses for a second, “my car’s parked just over there,” he nods towards a sleek vehicle at the edge of the park, his lips curling into a smile. “we could, uh... relocate or—”

before you can even process that, your curiosity gets the better of you. “wait— you have a car?” you cut in, a little surprised.

he chuckles. “yeah, and it’s a pretty one at that.” there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s enjoying this back-and-forth with you, like it’s some sort of game.

you sigh, still trying to wrap your head around the craziness of this entire situation. “okay,” you murmur, almost to yourself, deciding to just go with it. what’s the worst that could happen?

he releases his grip on you, but only so he can grab your hand and guide you towards the car. the walk feels a little awkward now, a heavy tension hanging in the air. you're not sure what to say.

what’s the protocol for walking towards a car with a guy you’re about to hook up with?

as if sensing your nerves, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “come on, my car’s comfy. don’t worry,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. the way he’s holding your hand... it’s surprisingly tender, making it feel just a little less awkward.

when you reach the car, he opens the back seat door for you. you hesitate for a second, “you won’t, like, kidnap me or something, right?” you half-joke.

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “for someone who’s so aware of the things you shouldn’t be doing, you sure do them anyway,” he teases. his words send a shiver down your spine, both a warning and an invitation.

but you ignore that nagging voice in the back of your mind. instead, you climb into the seat and he follows you right away.

“why are you—” your words are cut off as he crashes his lips against yours, the urgency in his kiss making you lose your breath. one of his hands grips your waist, pulling you against him, while the other tangles in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head for better access.

the way his lips move against yours, hot and hungry, sends sparks shooting down your spine, and before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth, matching his intensity. your hands scramble to find something to hold onto, eventually locking behind his neck as if he's your lifeline.

“are we seriously gonna fuck in your car?” you gasp, your words shaky when he pulls away just enough to start trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, drawing him closer.

“no,” he breathes and sucks on a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing the skin before he soothes it with a slow lick. “just couldn’t stop myself,” he admits, voice low and breathy, and then his mouth is back on yours, devouring you with a hunger that makes your head spin.

your hands move restlessly over his broad shoulders, wanting to feel more, wishing his clothes were gone so you could touch him everywhere.

his hands roam your body like he's memorizing it, fingers pressing into the curves of your waist, teasingly brushing against your chest. each touch has you arching into him, wishing he'd just tear your clothes apart already.

it's all too good.

too overwhelming, and before you know it, five minutes have passed with the two of you tangled in each other. when he finally pulls back, panting, his lips are swollen and glistening. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, both of you staring at each other in the dim light of the car.

he’s leaning back slightly, his hard on pressing against your thigh. it’s impossible not to notice how turned on he is, and it only makes your own arousal spike.

you're so fucking wet right now.

you’re laid back on the seat, eyes locked on him, watching the way he runs a hand through his disheveled hair, pushing it back revealing his forehead.

“hotel? or my place?” he asks, trying to catch his breath “hotel’s just a minute away, but my place… well, it’s a bit further.”

you can practically see the options laid out in your mind like a checklist.

a) go to the hotel, have your fun, and slip away without looking back. no strings, no regrets. just a quick fuck and disappear like it never happened.

b) go to his place, let him fuck the shit out of you, see if he’s worth all this heat between your thighs. maybe wake up in his bed with his arms still wrapped around you... and if he's good enough, maybe get his number so it doesn’t have to be a one time thing.

you bite your lip, your decision already made before you even realize it.

“yours.”

the drive to his apartment is quick, the tension between you both barely held back. you're glad it’s late at night, because the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other and you don't want anyone witnessing it.

the second you step into his apartment, the door slams shut behind you, and it's a scramble to rid each other of clothing. shirts are yanked off, belts undone, pants shoved down until you're both stumbling towards his bedroom in a mess of heated kisses and needy touches.

“o-oh fuck—yes baby, suck it just like that,” jungkook throws his head back, moaning, his breath ragged. he’s sprawled on the bed, legs spread wide, hands gripping the sheets. you're on your knees between his thighs, sucking him hard, your lips stretching around his thick length.

you glance up at him, eyes half lidded, watching the way his abs flex as he tries to keep himself steady. “shit... you look so fucking hot,” he rasps out, voice rough. his gaze darkens, and he pushes himself up, one hand threading through your hair.

“can you take it, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

you know exactly what he’s asking. you nod, barely managing it with your mouth full, and he smiles, almost wickedly, his eyes gleaming.

“good,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough on your hair. “tap me if it’s too much.” and with that, he starts moving his hips, fucking into your mouth with slow, deep thrusts.

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, but you relax your throat, trying to take him in. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of him moving in and out, his groans echoing off the walls.

“fuck—you’re taking me so well, baby,” he praises, his voice thick and raspy, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, it forces a choked gasp from him, his hands instinctively tightening in your hair.

your eyes water, tears pooling at your lashes, but you don’t stop, even as your throat aches. your nails dig into his firm thighs, using them for balance as he fucks your throat. you want to show him just how much you can handle.

“i’m gonna—” he grunts, voice rough and strained. a hot burst of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow it all, not breaking eye contact with him for a second. his chest heaves as he watches you, mesmerized, as your tongue slides slowly along his length, cleaning up every drop. his jaw clenches, the sight clearly driving him wild.

“get up,” he orders, voice still a little breathless, and you obey instantly, letting him pull you to your feet. “on the bed, all fours.”

you get onto the mattress, positioning yourself as he asked. there's a moment of stillness as you feel his gaze roam over your exposed body. your heart races, anticipation building as you wait for his next move.

“you’re dripping,” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath is hot against your soaked core. he licks a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, and your eyes flutter shut, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips. his mouth envelops your pussy, sucking and licking with an rhythm that makes your thighs tremble.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath before moving up, positioning himself between your legs. his right hand trails upward, skimming over your skin until his fingers brush against your lips.

instinctively, you part them, taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them. the low chuckle that escapes him tells you just how much he enjoys it.

“you like that, hm?” he asks. you moan softly around his fingers, your response muffled but desperate.

he withdraws his fingers, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. leaning down, he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly until your back is against his chest. you can feel his length pressing against your ass, you move your hips a little causing a little friction.

his hands slide over your breasts, kneading them with just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

you melt into his touch, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his fingers pinch and roll your hardened nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“want me to fuck you, baby?” his voice is soft against your shoulder as he places feather light kisses along your skin. he nips gently, his hands never stopping their teasing, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes when his fingers pinch just a bit harder.

“y-yes,” you mewl, voice shaky with need, “fuck me, jungkook.”

he squeezes your breasts harder, a groan rumbling from his chest as he sinks his teeth lightly into the curve of your shoulder.

“yeah? can i fuck you raw?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“yes,” you gasp, your voice barely more than a whimper. “p-please.”

his grip on you loosens slightly, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes dark, like he's stopping himself. “you sure?” he asks, one last time, his tone gentle but urgent.

you nod quickly, breathless. “i’m on the pill,” you assure him, and the tension in his shoulders eases.

“fuck. okay, bend over.”

without hesitation, you resume your previous position, arching your back and presenting yourself to him. he groans softly at the sight, his hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your entrance.

he teases you, slipping a finger inside, making you moan softly as your walls flutter around him. he withdraws his finger, watching the way you clench around nothing, desperate for more.

grabbing his cock, he taps the swollen tip against your slick hole. you whine, impatience leaking into your voice, “just fuck me already.”

a smirk curves his lips, and without another word, he pushes into you.

you grip the sheets tightly as you take him in fully, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. a choked gasp escapes your lips, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious burn that quickly morphs into pleasure.

each inch fills you so completely, leaving you breathless, your body trembling at the feeling.

“fuck,” he groans behind you, his voice low and rough, a sound that makes your toes curl. “you’re so tight, baby... taking me so fucking good.” the words are almost a growl, filled with barely restrained control as he fights the urge to pound into you.

his hands move to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, steadying himself as he sinks even deeper.

your moans spill freely now, raw and needy, muffled slightly by the pillow you bury your face into. he starts to move, slowly at first, pulling out just enough before thrusting back in, his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside you.

the rhythm is torturously slow, each stroke making you whimper, your back arching even further in a silent plea for more.

“please... more,” you manage to gasp out, your voice shaky. “jungkook, i need it.. need you.”

“yeah?” he rasps, picking up the pace, thrusts becoming sharper, each one driving you into the mattress. “want it harder, baby? want me to ruin you?”

“yes.. yes mmph- more!” you cry, your voice breaking as he slams into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your nails claw at the sheets, the friction of his hips against your ass making stars dance behind your eyelids.

his fingers snake around to your front, finding your swollen clit, and he rubs it in tight, quick circles. your entire body jolts, your hips bucking back against him as you let out a loud, broken moan.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, that's a good fucking girl,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him, your walls fluttering as you near the edge.

“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls against your ear, bending over you now, his hot breath fanning against your neck. he bites down on your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to drive you wild.

“you're gonna cum like the good girl you are?”

“yes n-ngh.. i’m close.. s-so close,” you whimper, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. his fingers press harder against your clit, his thrusts turning frantic.

“cum with me, baby” he demands, his voice thick and commanding. that’s all it takes. your body shatters. your vision going white as you scream his name. your walls squeeze him so tightly, milking his cock, and with a deep, guttural groan, he loses himself too, spilling inside you as his thrusts grow sloppy.

he stays buried inside you, his chest heaving against your back, both of you panting heavily. he leans down to press soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

after everything that just happened. you've made up your mind.

you're definitely going to ask for his number.

a/n: erm.. don't get into random strangers cars !! haha

[elfqueen006]

Kiss and Make Up

Sunny Day Jack x Reader

Tw: post argument (after that one Jack audio), toxiiic, manipulation, cunninglingus lemon, dub-conny to enthusiastic

There was a knock on your door. You flinched not experiencing the sudden interruption of your solitude. You were still winding down after your argument with down after your argument with your “best friend”. Admittedly though, this was another blip in a long history of “shut-downs”. You did it with your parents, your boss, and Ian. It’s nothing special, but it doesn’t get any easier to work through.

“Shaun?” You called out tentatively. But of course, who else should answer but Sunny Day Jack? When he opens the door you check his body language - knit-brows, tense shoulders, and a grimace. He’s still upset, but not as much as before. Not angry. Still, you probably weren’t helping with bringing up the man that you both were arguing about. It was a knee-jerk reaction on your part, mixed with hopefulness and a fleeting callousness – not uncommon for your moods. But you knew better. Shaun wasn’t coming back for a while, as he was away for a meeting in L.A. with his agent, Olivia.

One might think being in either position would be a dream of sorts. But all you know is your college buddy is a big time director doing movie things, while you’re left here to stave off the remnants of your frustration in your ghost clown situationship.

You pulled your legs up to your chest as Jack closed the door behind him before approaching you. Thankfully, it didn’t close all the way. That gave you a sliver of relief. You didn’t want to be in a closed space with him right now; not after before.

He sat at the foot of the bed. You scooted up the bed further to where you sat on the pillows, subtly grabbing the edges as if they could hold you, keep you safe, free from this tension.

Finally Jack asked, “Are you okay?”

No. “I’m alright.” you replied.

“You sure? You didn’t come out of your room for a few hours.”

This is what I do when people raise their voices at me. “I just needed some time to myself…”

Jack nodded and gave an understanding smile. You resisted a frown, because for once the gesture made you upset. He didn’t deserve to be concerned when he got you like this. He didn’t deserve to be understanding as if you going through this had nothing to do with him. You smiled back though, you had to. You wanted the worst to be over even if he was acting like it was just a little hurdle. You always got over it before.

The bed creaked, snapping you out of your thoughts as you noticed Jack had gotten closer to you. Like right beside you. Tilting his head, he raises his hand and puts it just inches to your face.

“May I?” He asked. What else can you do but let him? You nodded, letting his gloved hand brush your cheek coming up to your hair before twisting your curls between his thumb and forefinger.

Softly, he spoke your name. You look at him, and the weight in your chest gets heavier when you look at those doe eyes. Big, brown, and wide, and pretty. With his eyes you think he’s saying sorry. You think, but his mouth will say something entirely different.

“You know, I care about you a lot right?” he asked.

You nodded slowly in reply.

“So I expect the same in return. And it’s not your fault, I know you do your best with… Shaun around,” his voice took on a dark tone at the mention of your roommate. “But I just feel so neglected whenever he comes around,”

“He’s coming between us.”

“I don’t mean to make you feel that way. And if I have, I’m really sorry.” you replied, “It’s just hard… balancing you both.”

“I know, Sunshine.”

And he smiled as if to congratulate you on your apology. Truthfully, you didn’t know why you did it anyway. It just felt like the right thing to say; it felt correct. It wasn’t as if he were asking for one, but it’s not like you could take it back now. It felt worse to have him angry and disappointed. And even if it made you upset now, when he smiled at you it was like you could accomplish anything.

“We can fix it, right?”

“Of course. Hey,” He took hold of your chin, “No time like the present, right?”

“...Right.”

You had a bit of an inkling where this was heading when he pressed his lips onto yours. There wasn’t going to be an I’m sorry to placate this. Soft skin moved together rhythmically in a sensual kiss. Jack slipped his tongue inside and against yours, licking your wet muscle, and you found yourself eagerly returning the gesture. When there was an opportunity to taste Jack again, you sure would take it. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Jack pulled you up upon his lap and held you by your waist. You began to feel his excitement through his pants, promptly rolling your hips against him to get friction. He pulled away, leaving a line of spit between you.

Though you whined when the kiss was broken, you let him ease you down onto the pillow behind you. Jack chuckled softly, “You have to be patient. Be patient for me. Can you do that?”

Fuck that. The primal part of you didn’t want to wait, it was just focused on chasing that high Jack provided. But as you were about to protest, a haze took over your mind, sedating you, making you pliant to whatever was coming. The ache was still there, but it didn’t burn as strongly.

“Okay,” you breathed out.

Jack ran his thumb over your cheek again before leaning down to kiss it. He kissed up your ear, nibbling on the lobe. The action made you squirm. Jack smirked at your reaction before working his way down to your neck. He suckled on the skin to ensure the hickies would be there come morning. It wouldn’t be enough though. He wanted to mark you all over.

He raised up your hoodie and shirt over your chest. He undid the bra remaining there and tossed it over the bed. A shaky sigh passed through your lips when closed his lips around your nipple. All the while, he worked your other breast with his free hand, kneading the flesh under his palm and fingers.

Jack grazed his teeth over your nipple, humming in satisfaction when you moaned. One of your legs propped on his hip for leverage as you subconsciously rocked your hips up to the air, desperate to feel something – anything. His ego was living for all of it. No matter what he did, he knew he could make you melt under his touch. 

He truthfully did feel sorrowful for what he’d said earlier. 

“Goddammit Sunshine! You are impossible! I do everything right!” he spat. You hurriedly stepped back with wide eyes but he stalked closer towards you. You had to hear this and really see how he was in turmoil over you. He cared so much for you and still does. He deserved your attention more than anyone right now. But here you were, worrying about whether or not your roommate was faring well in L.A. though he’d updated you over the course of the month too many times for him to count!

When you retreated into your room he was still fuming. But after a while he got worried and had begun to feel like he pushed you too far. It was a spur of the moment reaction after all. Maybe he should have taken the time to evaluate what he could’ve said before lashing out like that. But it was done, and no matter what the after effects had been, he would always make a point to have your best interests in mind.

He pulled his lips off of your breast with a pop and moved down to your pelvis. He took your pants off, pleasantly surprised to find you without panties. Your cheeks burned when he shot you an amused smirk.

“If I didn’t know any better… I’d say you planned for me to eventually find you like this.” Your skin trembled as he rubbed circles on your inner thigh. “It’d be poor form outside the house. Why, you never know who’s looking at your sweet body.”

Your breath hitched when he kissed your mound.

“It’s fine here though. Because it’s all for me.”

The lave of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. Skillfully he ate you out, making you arch against his painted face. You gripped the sheets beneath to keep you leveraged while you followed the rhythm of his licks. Jack grabbed you under the thighs and pulled you close to delve his tongue into your entrance. 

Your mouth dropped in a silent Oh. How long was that thing anyway?

Jack watched you writhe from below, savoring every pleasured shift in expression. Your eyes and nose scrunched tight, the smallest hints of flushed red skin on your face, and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. When all of this was for him, he could say with no ego, he was your greatest lover.

You reached out to grab him by his hair, but he was way ahead of you, pulling your lower body up as he stood on his knees continuing to pleasure you. Your upper half still lie on the bed, with you desperately grabbing whatever was beneath to keep you grounded.

“Oh, please!” you cried.

Jack paused in his actions but didn’t move his mouth from your labia. “Please…what?”

“Let me cum!”

You felt the twitch of his lips against your lower ones.

“On one condition… you don’t talk about Shaun the whole month he’s away…”

“...huh?”

Was he still on that? You’d long since forgotten with the way he was ruining you like this. You’d always be concerned for Shaun no matter how far he is… but thinking about it now, it seemed like such a silly thing to get in a dispute over. Shaun was a grown man. And you had to stop relying on his companionship, and focus on the one giving you the best head of your life.

“Yes. Yes, whatever you want!” you huffed.

Your high had ridden down, but Jack’s artful tongue only took a few more strokes to get you to climax. He’d have you all to himself now, with no outside influence or thoughts to get in the way.

----

🎵all of this looove is... Toxic~ all these kisses and hugs is...not shit🎵 anywaaay~ hope y'all enjoyed! It's my first day back from spring break making this. not too shabby if I do say so myself!

[helterskelterhazel]

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒐 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰’𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝑺𝒉𝒚

Summary: fetus!Alex and you hate each other, but not that much.

Warnings: sub!alex, dom!reader, oral(m receiving), p in v, crying?, grinding?

Word count: 4.7k

a/n: the fandom is so dead right now so I took matters into my own hands… enjoy!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You and Alex had an interesting living situation. You met through a mutual friend, and the mutual need for cheaper rent. The both of you hated paying ridiculous prices for the smallest flats ever, especially without the help of parents' money. Unfortunately, you both also hated each other. The night you met was at a noisy, packed club, and after a long day of university, you both needed to let loose. Your mutual friend invited the both of you along with a few other friends. He hadn’t been seen by your friend all night, but you saw him. As you had unsqueezed yourself from the mass of bodies dancing to the music to go to the bar, you felt a person knock into you. You turned to the side to tell him off, but your voice was caught in your throat as you looked at the boy in front of you. He was a fairly small boy, with thick hair that stuck up in the back. He wore a polo, with the color popped up, and baggy jeans. But what really stood out was his eyes, big and round and confused looking. The confused look quickly went away as he studied you.

“You y/n?” He asked loudly, attempting to strain over the loud music. His voice was higher pitched than you’d expect.

“Yes, I am, and you must be Alex, you fit the description I was told about. You also just ran into me, if you didn’t notice,” you respond, annoyed at his casual tone.

He smirked slightly, “I noticed.” What a dick.

You and him proceeded to have a strained conversation. He was clearly gone, sloshing his cheap beer around in his hand, accidentally splashing you with it at one point. At least he got you a napkin. You disagreed on almost every level, your personalities clashed in a frustrating way. Eventually, you got to the topic of university. He was an English major, surprising, considering his slurred speech and odd wording. Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t afford university combined with rent. That was the one thing you could agree on. You're not sure how, but In your drunken haze, you ended the conversation disgruntled but with a plan to room together in a new apartment. You managed to follow through with minimal talking, and moved into an apartment in the next few weeks. The circumstances weren’t the greatest, but it was the easiest option for everyone.

He put posters of the strokes, oasis and the libertines up on his side of the bedroom, and had his records stored next to his record player. Your records sat opposite to his. The first days were filled with arguments about things like who can take a shower, what type of coffee to make, and who can control the tv. He called you pretentious, you called him annoying. You’d complain about his habits of staying out late, and how he didn’t even try to be quiet when getting ready for bed. The yelling turned into grumbling, and the grumbling turned into silence as the both of you fell into some sort of routine.

you wake up hours before he does, and take a shower first thing. Typically getting dressed in outfits that consist of tights, sweaters, flats and denim or leather jackets. You pour yourself a cup of black coffee, and head to your first class of the day. By the time you got back from your early morning class, he was usually awake in his bed, sipping on an iced coffee. Iced, vanilla, coffee. You made him keep it in the fridge. There was always the lingering smell of the cigarette he had enjoyed on the balcony. You ate whatever pastry you had purchased from the bakery close by campus while he took an obnoxiously long shower. You would leave as he finished for the rest of your classes, just missing him stepping out of the shower wet and disheveled. Luckily your days didn’t overlap until late at night as Alex liked to go out, and he also liked to play in his band. He would clamber into bed after stripping to his boxers, and you would resist the urge to turn over to his side of the room and look. Then you would wake up and do it all over again.

One Sunday night, as Alex walked in the door earlier than usual, the routine changed. It was 9, and you both were puttering around the small kitchen trying to prepare separate microwaveable meals. Seemingly out of nowhere, Alex cleared his throat and asked,

“Do you wanna watch a movie, together I mean.”

Not knowing what to say, you kept your back facing him and nodded. You couldn’t see it, but his cheeks heated up to a bright pink, and he smiled softly to himself while continuing to prepare his noodles. The two of you settled down onto your beds, and you tossed the remote over to Alex.

“You can pick,” you told him quietly.

“I actually have some dvds that I brought from home, Al Pacino movies and stuff if you're into that,” he replied softly. The cocky boy you thought you knew seemed gone.

“Yeah that sounds good.”

He nodded, and slid off his bed to grab a big leather case from under it. After popping it open, you saw there must have been at least 80 dvds.

“Big into movies?” You asked, genuinely curious. His plush lips parted into a small smile at the question.

“Yeah, big time.”

He selected one and popped it into the dvd player beneath the tv before settling back into his flannel sheets. The two of you sat eating your food and watching “Donnie Brasco” through the rest of the night. The movie was dotted with Alex’s little interjections about the actors or cinematic qualities. You slowly drifted off to sleep with your bowl at your side, on top of your sheets. When you woke up the next morning, you were tucked into your bed, and your dishes had disappeared.

From then on, it seemed like you two had an unstated agreement. On the nights the both of you are in the flat, you would share a film. There was more talking as well. He asked you about your day and you asked about his. Sometimes he’d even prepare your meal, and make you a drink. You found out that you both actually were quite similar. When you had rented a French dvd, Alex responded excitedly, watching intently through the whole thing. Turns out he liked them as much as you did. You also found out little things about him that didn’t really matter, but meant a great deal to you. For example, he ruffles his hair on purpose, (he wants to look like Julian Casablancas.) He also began to get more comfortable engaging in small touches with you, touching your hip as he passed by you, light pats on the shoulder when you told him about a paper you did well on, and once tucking your hair behind your ear before scurrying away nervously. You didn’t mind it.

At the beginning of one normal movie night, Alex proposed that you sit in his bed.

“Y’know I just figured, it-it would be easier to see for you I didn’t mean anything by it,” he stuttered, blushing furiously. You laughed softly at his nervous behavior and moved over to his bed, settling onto the soft comforter. He tensed up as your shoulder touched his, but relaxed quickly after. He turned his head to you and said,

“If you want to get under the covers, I don’t mind, it’s pretty cold anyways,” he trailed off, eyes casting downwards, making the shadow of his lashes more prominent. You nodded in response, slipping your legs under the sheets.

As the movie progressed, you noticed his eyes starting to flutter closed, and his small frame slumped against yours. Slowly, you leaned back further, easing him to lay with his head in the crook of your neck. He didn’t say anything, allowing it to happen. You could tell he was still awake from his hitching breaths and pounding heart beat against you. Testing the waters, you took your hand up to rake through his soft hair. You got in response a shiver from him and a small hum, but no protests. You played with the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching lightly. You could feel him smile against you. This Alex was not the Alex from the bar the night you met. This Alex was soft and vulnerable, and absolutely sweet. You allowed yourself to drift to sleep, him in your arms.

The night after was filled with nerves creeping up on you. You spend the whole day thinking about Alex wrapping himself tightly around you, not able to focus on any work at all. You know Alex wasn’t going to be home early that night, he had a late shift at the bar to cover. You wished he was here with you, watching films, listening to records, or just simply talking, but you know it was best to have a bit of space. The two of you hadn’t exchanged any talk in the morning, both far too timid to share any feelings. So there you sat In the darkness of your shared room, unable to fall asleep or think of anything other than Alex. Your thoughts of Alex were interrupted not a moment later by the sounds of the boy himself. You keep your body turned over so he can’t see your face, just listening to his breathing and sounds of him putting down his keys.

When you hear him settle onto his bed, the last this you expected to hear was him softly crying. It was quiet, but the sound was unmistakable. Without thinking, you sat up and turned around, in which Alex responded by lifting his head quickly. His hair was hanging over his eyes, which are red and puffy. His doe eyes are soft, and his lashes are slick with tears. Responding on instinct, you immediately jumped off your bed and hurried over to his, wrapping one arm around him. He responds by leaning into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You pet his hair lightly while he sniffles, trying to distract him from whatever was happening. Eventually he lifts his head up and averts his eyes away from yours. He takes a deep breath and then suddenly all of his words come pouring out at once.

“I’m so sorry for being weird all day y/n, I was worried I made you uncomfortable last night because I really like you and I don’t want to mess up us being friends, because you're like, one of the best people I’ve ever met. And I’m sorry for crying all over you and you can leave I understa-”

You shut up his rambling by leaning into his bitten lips. He made a noise of shock into your mouth, before he began to kiss back enthusiastically. He was one of the most eager kissers you’d ever encountered. His kisses were filled with an urgency you hadn’t felt before. He tasted like cigarettes and cheap beer. Unable to resist yourself, you reach a hand up and rake it through his hair, before tugging softly. In response he whines into the kiss, before pulling back and looking at you in shock. His lips are red and swollen, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“I didn’t think you liked me like that,” he says quietly. You didn’t respond, just continuing to look at his perfect face.

“I guess I just overthink things too much,” he replies to himself. This you respond to.

“I can make your mind go quiet, if that’s what you want.”

Even you were shocked by your boldness. He couldn’t form words, just nodding furiously, shaking his hair around. You lean back from him, sitting against your pillows and opening your legs. He looks confused at what you were doing. You pat the spot between your legs and say,

“sit.”

His eyes got impossibly wider as they flicked between the space between your legs and your face. “You mean like how girls normally do?” He asks, looking insecure.

“I guess so, but really it’s just so I can take proper care of you,” you respond, smirking at his innocent expression. “We don’t have to do it like that if you don’t want to.” You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“No,” he responds quickly, voice straining a bit. “I want to.”

“Then come here.”

He lifts himself up off the ledge of his bed and settles his back against your chest. You instantly wrap your arms up to cradle his little waist. His body shivers a bit against yours. You push your hands under his shirt and feel his soft skin, while beginning to lean down to kiss his neck. His body is shaking a bit, so you pull back slightly and say softly in his ear,

“Are you okay? You're shaking honey.” He blushes deeply at the nickname, before shaking his head and responding, “Yeah, I’m-I’m just not used to this.”

You nod in response before continuing. As you begin to kiss down his neck, you decide to take a risk.

“Can I leave marks?” He whimpers lightly before hurriedly nodding.

You lick over his pulse point before sucking a small love bite into his pale skin. He tilts his head back further, exposing more of his neck to you. Between bites and kisses you whisper in his ear.

“No ones ever properly taken care of you, sweetie.” He looks embarrassed at the words, letting out little whimpers and deep breaths as well. You continue to run your hands over his stomach under his shirt. Your hands drop lower, caressing his defined hip bones. At this, he lets out a quiet whine and squirms a bit.

“Need more.” he says while looking up at you with wide, pleading eyes. His fists are curled at his side, and his chest is heaving with need.

“if it’s what you need sweetie.”

You take the edge of his shirt and pull it over his head, ruffling his hair even more in the process. You trail your hands down to his jeans, feeling the edge of them before asking, “Can I take these off?”

“Yes, please.” he breathes desperately. You unzip them and let him do the rest, unable to reach from your position. Now here you were, with Alex Turner between your legs in nothing but his boxers, looking delicate as ever. Deciding to be bold, you take your hand and palm over his crotch. The fabric feels wet with precum, and you can almost feel him pulse under your touch. His response is immediate, bucking up into your touch and desperately pawing at your other hand that was resting on his tummy. You trace one finger around his cock, feeling the surprisingly long length of it. He silently hopes you can’t feel his heart beating out of his chest, but of course you can. You decided to surprise him by reaching your hand down to wrap around the base of his cock. The sound he made was something out of a porno. A broken, high pitched moan that seemed like it resembled an “oh god.” The sound went straight to your core and you felt wetness start to pool in your panties. You begin to move your hand along his raging erection, eventually getting to the tip, just lightly swiping your fingers over it to tease. You would think he’d never even jacked off before from his reaction. All he could do is squirm and push himself into your touch desperately.

You remove your grip on him to just lightly take your finger and run it up and down his cock, moving the precum leaking out of him along it. As you teased him, you couldn’t help but lean down to suck a hickey into his collarbone. The need to see him as disheveled and marked up was unbearable. You couldn’t help but trail your other hand further up his stomach to his chest to his nipples, lightly ghosting over one to see if it was okay.

“Please, please I want it.” The boy who was nervous about being submissive was definitely gone.

You take his nipple between your fingers, rolling it before pinching lightly. He looks overwhelmed at the action between his legs and chest. You switch between the two of his nipples, almost overstimulating him. His chest and cheeks are flushed, and you're honestly interested in seeing if anything else is.

You take your hand off his cock, leaving him whining in disagreement.

“Why’d you stop?” He chokes out, pouting like a kid who dropped his ice cream.

“Because I wanna taste you.” you smirk in his ear.

You can hear his voice catch in his throat, and before he knows it you're releasing your hold on him and crawling between his legs. From this angle, he looks downright sinful. His puppy eyes are trained on you, watery from being on edge. His lips are bitten and his hair is messy and covering his face making him look somehow innocent despite the current situation. Trailing your hands up his legs, which were just as delicate and pale as the rest of him, you settle on where his v-line meets his boxers.

“Can I suck you off.” You ask bluntly, trying to get that pretty blush to rise up to his cheeks. It works.

“Yes-yes please do whatever please.” He begs hands fisting the sheets by his side, frustrated by the lack of stimulation on his painfully hard cock.

You take this as an opportunity to pull down his boxers to reveal his dick. You almost gasp at the sight of it, big, flushed a deep red almost purple, leaking a steady stream of precum against his tummy, with a vein going up the side. He looks embarrassed at the sight of you between his legs, staring at his cock.

“Can you please touch me, please?” He whimpers quietly, averting his eyes from yours.

“I don’t know, do you think you deserve it?” You tease, rubbing the milky skin of his bare thighs.

“Yes! Yes I do please, I need you so bad.” He whines in desperation, the pressure getting far too much for him to take.

“I guess you have been good for me. Is that what you wanna be? My good boy?” You didn’t think he would react as strongly as he did, it was really just to tease him even further, but he replies by gasping softly and saying “I’m your good boy I promise, just touch me, ple-”

You interrupt his pleas by taking the head of his cock into your mouth. In response he lets out a high pitch whine. The neighbors probably hate us right now. you take the entirety of what you can in your mouth, trying not to gag as the tip hits the back of your throat. He shudders and starts to let out a continuous stream of “fucks” and “yes’s” and whimpers. you take whatever you can't fit in your mouth and pump the base of him. You hollow out your cheeks to make the sensation even better for him. In response he bucks up his hips uncontrollably and takes one hand and tangles it in your hair. He doesn’t try to pull or control your movements, it’s just an attempt to keep his body under control. It’s clear it isn’t really working, as his back arches off the bed like a cat, and he has to raise the hand that’s not in your hair to his mouth to attempt to quiet his noises. You reach your hand up and swat him away from his mouth. “I wanna hear your pretty noises honey.”

“Oh-okay.” He whispers shyly in response, giving you a little smile.

the smile quickly drops as you attach your mouth back to the swollen head of his cock, licking into the slit at the top. His unrestrained mewls are the prettiest sounds you’ve heard. You continue to massage his thighs, occasionally reaching a hand up to ghost over one of his nipples, leaving him an overwhelmed mess. His trembling legs and increasingly louder whines are a clear sign of him getting closer. He was desperately trying not to cum so quickly, but he couldn’t stop his shaky thrusts of his hips.

“oh god, you feel so-so good.” He whines desperately, sounding on the verge of pleasure induced tears. You look up to admire his sweet face, and you're met with a surprise. He doesn’t just sound like he’s crying, he is crying. Lip quivering slightly, and his eyes are rolling back to his head, as tears run down his cheeks. The sight of him so ruined has your cunt clenching around nothing, suddenly unbearably empty.

“I’m not gonna last, please plea-.” You cut off his begging by promptly pulling him out of your mouth and removing any stimulation he was getting. The cry he lets out sounds almost pained, even more tears stream from his eyes.

“Why’d you stop, I was almost there.” He pouts at you, disheveled hair paired with red cheeks and teary eyes making him look angelic.

“Because I want you inside me,” You reply, leaning your face against his thigh, “do you want that?” You finish.

“Yeah, yes I want it. I want it so bad please.” He gasps out desperate to get some form of stimulation back in his aching cock.

As you slip off the shorts and panties you were wearing to bed, you can practically feel Alex’s eyes staring at your puffy folds. He gulps as you climb over his lap, hovering over his dick. You lower yourself to grind your pussy against his cock, feeling it slip between your wet folds, nudging just right at your clit. As you begin to move up and down along his dick, his hands grasp desperately at your waist, mewling at the feeling of your plush folds sliding along his dick.

“I swear you're gonna kill me.” He chokes out, eyes focused on your soaked pussy spreading your wetness around his cock.

“Do you like this baby, you like feeling me.” You say, leaning down to his ear, before attaching your mouth to the spot under his jaw.

“Love it, love it so much, I need more.” He moans, hands trailing from your waist to squeeze the flesh of your ass.

“More? Don’t you think that’s a little greedy?” You tease, licking and biting along his collar bone. He whimpers and shakes his head, burying it in your shoulder, shuddering softly. His fingers are toying with the edge of your shirt, too nervous to ask to take it off. Luckily you get the hint.

You pull the shirt over your head, allowing him a moment to look at your bra, before promptly pulling that off as well. His big, brown eyes dilate at the sight of your tits.

“Can I touch them, please?” He says, looking up at you hopefully. You nod into his neck. He immediately reaches his hands up and gropes at your tits, squeezing them in his delicate hands. You continue to grind against him to make him more desperate as he suddenly leans forward and captures one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking desperately. You gasp softly and begin petting his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

“You like having your mouth full sweetie?” You ask, a rhetorical question of course. All he can do is let out a muffled whine. His tongue swipes along the bud, nipping gently in an attempt to get you as desperate as he is. Suddenly he releases you from his mouth and stops the movement of your hips against him with his hands.

“I can’t anymore, I need to be inside you. I’ll be good for you, I promise I swear love!” He whines finally, breaking under the teasing.

“Okay honey, you’ve been a good boy.” You reply while lifting up to your knees and grabbing hold of his cock. He’s been hard for so long he swears he’s going to bust any second now. You line up the fat head of his cock to your leaking cunt, before slowly pushing him inside. You groan low in your throat as you feel his thick cock stretch you out just right, the tip brushing your g-spot. You almost don’t notice the way he throws his head back in euphoria, sounds caught in his throat from the way your plush walls squeeze him perfectly, and the way he can feel your cunt gush around him. You grab hold of his face, admiring his lust blown eyes for a moment, before leaning in to connect your mouth with his. It’s rough and messy as his tongue slides along yours, his mouth sweet and soft. You begin to slowly move your hips, the first few movements have him shaking again. You let him sink into the bed, so overwhelmed that he was pawing at anything he could get his hands on. Your tits, your ass, your waist, anything to keep him grounded.

But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way your tits bounced with every thrust. He couldn’t stop hearing the wet noises coming from your pussy every time you bottomed out of his dick. He couldn’t stop looking at how your pussy enveloped him, leaving his dick wet and glistening.

“God you're so good!” He cried out, tears trailing down his face again.

you were right there with him, trailing a hand down to your clit to circle the puffy bud, but he was there before you were, desperate not to embarrass himself by coming too early. It only took a few swipes of his calluses fingertips on your clit to have you coming around his length. You gripped your hands on his slender shoulders as your orgasm shook through your body, unknowingly breaking him enough to have his own orgasm suddenly coaxed out. You feel his hot release hit your walls, and watch his hips jerk uncontrollably as the tears shed more than ever before. His fingers don’t let up until you collapse on top of him, sweaty bodies melded together.

It takes a moment for you to realize his crying and shaking hasn’t stopped. You lift off of him, still straddling him, his cum starting to leak out of you.

“Are you ok al?” You ask.

He doesn’t respond, a fuzzed over look on his face, trying his hardest to give you a little nod. You grab his fragile body in your arms and slowly lift him out of bed, walking him to the bathroom slowly. You take a damp cloth and wipe him down softly as possible. You wipe yourself down as well, still cradling him in your arms. Grabbing his hand, you lead him over to your bed, wanting to lay him in clean sheets. You help him into the bed and slide in beside him. He buries his head in your chest, still shaking but not crying anymore. You pet his hair, hoping to calm him down. After a few moments he slowly lifts his head up, making eye contact shyly.

“I’m sorry for all that.” He says softly. “I sometimes get a little unresponsive when I get a little too into it.” He looks nervous, anticipating your reaction.

“That’s okay Al, it’s kinda sweet.” You reply, watching his cheeks flush lightly. You lean down and kiss him lightly on the cheek.

“I had a really good time.” You say, smiling at him.

“Me too.” He gave a long pause before asking, “do you maybe wanna go out sometime.”

You almost giggle at his shy demeanor. Still so nervous.

“Of course I do honey.”

The both of you lay In comfortable silence for a while, arms wrapped around each other. You noticed his eyes fluttering in an attempt to stay awake.

“Go to sleep Alex, I’ve got you.” You whisper, stroking the side of his face. He hums in agreement nuzzling into your neck further. You stroke his hair and face until you feel his breathing stabilize. The both of you fall asleep entangled together, your lips pressed against the crown of his head

[lucy90712]

Hiiiii so if u do requests can u pls do one where like reader is jude’s gf but jobe has like a little crush on her and jude can feel it and like when they all hangout jobe is all over her and jude gets a lik jelly pleassseeee😭🫶🏻

WC: 1.7k Living in Madrid is amazing it's warm and the city is filled with so many amazing people but nothing beats being back home. Moving to Madrid with my boyfriend Jude was a big decision to make but after a lot of thinking and talks with my family I decided to just do it. It's been one of the best decisions I've ever made I found a job I really enjoy that is also flexible so it allows me to travel with Jude to some of his away games. I've also made some great friends with not only the other Real Madrid players but also their partners who have been really welcoming. As much as it's been a great few months here I've been looking forward to getting to go home for a few days ever since I found out Jude had a small break between games. We won't be back long but while we are there we are going to stay with Jude's parents and mine are going to visit at some point so we can all see each other before our normal lives resume. 

Jude being the ever sensible person he is decided that we needed to get the first flight we could physically make which happened to be just after his last game before the break. This meant we had to pack once we got up and have everything in the car ready to go straight to the airport after the end of the game. It was highly stressful but as soon as the plane touched down on home soil all that stress melted away and the tiredness kicked in too. Jude's parents were there to meet us both at the airport despite it being late which was much appreciated. On the relatively short drive back to their house Jude wouldn't stop talking about what life has been like and the last game even though his parents will already know everything that's happened. While he was talking away I just rested my head on his shoulder starting to really feel the tiredness of getting up early and not sleeping on the plane. 

As soon as we arrived Jobe was quick to meet us at the door I was expecting him to greet Jude first seeing as they are brothers and they have always been really close but instead he came straight over to me to give me a hug. It's not exactly out of the ordinary as Jobe and I get on well and he saw Jude more recently at an event they both went to that I couldn't attend so I guess it makes sense for him to be excited to see me. Despite my attempts to have a small nap in the car I was still really tired so I just hugged Jobe back until he pulled away to finally greet his brother with less enthusiasm it seemed. 

"How have you been y/n?" Jobe asked 

"I've been good life is amazing in Madrid but it's good to be home" I said

"Well I'm glad you're back I missed you" he said 

"Aww thanks Jobe that's sweet" I said 

"You know I'm here too right" Jude interrupted clearly a little agitated 

I don't know what was going on but there seemed to be a bit of tension between the two of them but it was far too late for me to worry about it too much. It's quite possible that they had an argument at some point and now they are just trying to annoy each other as thats happens quite a lot and sometimes I end up in the middle of their fights. After saying goodnight to everyone I grabbed Jude's hand to lead him up to bed but I could see him giving Jobe almost a death stare out the corner of my eye. Hopefully they sort out whatever's going on between them as I don't want to be dealing with their probably stupid argument in the few days we have back home. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up this morning all the tension from last night seemed to have disappeared Jude woke up with a smile on his face which stayed even when Jobe came downstairs and sat right next to me on the sofa. Today we didn't have anything planned as we weren't exactly sure what time we would get here and how tired we would be but seeing as both of us were quite well rested we decided to spend the day going out around the town and the places we used to go all the time when still living here. Jobe wanted to tag along as he didn't have training and to try and keep the peace I said he could join us but I promised Jude we would spend the evening together just us. 

After having some breakfast we all got ready, somehow I was the first one ready so I had to wait downstairs but I was joined by Jobe not long after. As he sat down he put his hand on my knee for a few seconds before taking it off and resting it in his lap. He's never done that before but I assume he just misjudged where to put his hand and that it was an accident. He then went on to ask me how things have been in Madrid and if Jude has been treating me right which felt like a weird question but I just want to enjoy my few days back home so I let it slide. Thankfully Jude came down not too long after so I used that as my chance to get away from the awkward conversation without making a scene. 

Jude wanted to just walk around the town so that's what we did. Luckily it wasn't too busy sure people took pictures and stopped us but it wasn't as bad as it has been in Madrid recently we can't move when we go out over there now. While Jude was taking pictures with a group of fans I stood out the way with Jobe as I don't like to be in the pictures unless I'm asked. While we were stood to the side Jobe tried to be slick and slide his arm over my shoulders but I saw it coming a mile away and moved a bit to the side to avoid it. I really wanted to say something as this isn't like Jobe but I won't do it while in public as I don't want to start an argument and create a scandal for Jude. We walked for a bit longer before deciding to find somewhere to have lunch and hey again Jobe was acting weird as he wanted to sit next to me but Jude took that seat before he got the chance. The entire time we were eating he was just staring at me which made me a little uncomfortable but by this point Jude had caught on to what was going on and he made sure to be as close to me as possible and whenever he got the chance he kissed my cheek. 

The rest of our day out was just as awkward as the morning Jude was trying to make it clear that I was his by constantly having his arm around my waist and giving me kisses all while Jobe was still trying to get me attention. I felt like an object the way they were almost competing over me and using me to prove a point to one another. Jude wasn't being affectionate because he felt like it he wanted to assert dominance and prove that I'm his which just infuriated me as I can stand up for myself. Jobe was also getting on my last nerve he knows that I'm with his brother and have been for a long time now, we are happy together and even if we were to break up I would certainly not go for Jude's brother that's just wrong. While we were out I kept my cool but as soon as we got back I just stood by the door looking at them both trying not to let my anger completely take over. 

"Ok what is going on with you both today?" I asked 

"Nothing" Jude replied 

"Something is going on and I don't like it Jobe you're acting like you can just flirt with me and touch me whenever you like which you can't and Jude you're treating me like your possession not a human being let alone your girlfriend so someone explain what's going on" I ranted 

"I'm sorry baby I don't mean to treat you like that I just didn't like what Jobe was doing and I wanted to show him you were mine" Jude explained 

"Jobe why have you been trying to put your hands on my girlfriend?" Jude asked 

"I haven't been" he tried to defend himself 

The two of them just started arguing after that so I decided to just walk away I said what I wanted to say I don't need to watch them argue. I'd only just made it out the room when I hear Jobe admit that he had a crush on me. As anyone could predict that statement didn't go down too well Jude only got more angry with Jobe swearing and yelling even more than before. My relaxing trip back home has long gone, at this point I just want to leave without someone killing each other. Just as I was about to step in Jude told Jobe that he just had to get over it and came to find me dragging me upstairs with him. 

Jude was very much still annoyed but once we got to his room he pulled me down onto the bed with him at let out a frustrated sigh. He clearly needed to let off some steam so I just let him rant about the situation for a good 5 minutes before he calmed down and apologised for how today went. I wanted to be mad but I just couldn't it's hard to stay mad at him for too long instead I just wanted to have the quiet evening that I promised him earlier which will ideally be just the two of us in bed watching movies and eating lots of food. Nothing sounds better than relaxing and forgetting about the events of the day because today is definitely not a day to remember. 

[friendship-ditch]

Enamored

Carol Aird x Fem!Reader ✼

Summary: You're Rindy's babysitter, though recently you've been finding yourself getting closer to her mother, Carol.

Warnings/Notes: None really. Slight age gap? Child with divorcing parents? Harge being an asshole? Tipsy Carol? I don't know anything about 4 year olds.

Word Count: 3420

  “They’re fighting again…” Rindy’s lips pursed into a childish pout. She clung to your sweater as you carried her up the stairs. 

  “I know, honey.” You pushed the door to her room open, closing it afterwards with your foot once the two of you were inside.

  Carol had warned you earlier that day that Harge might show up to fight with her on who got to have their daughter for Christmas. You were expecting him to come later, maybe after lunch, but the bastard snuck in without a sound and before you realized what was happening, the arguing began.

  Harge had always treated you just fine–you started babysitting Rindy right when the divorce began, after their maid left, and they were still working out who would live in the house–but you knew an argument was impending and that Rindy didn’t like it when her parents fought. Plus, Carol had mentioned to you once, during sort of an emotional burnout, that Harge was not a pretty sight when angry. You’d heard them fight before, but never like this.

  It was as if an opera was going on just below your feet in the kitchen. You couldn’t quite make out the words but you could hear them both shouting.

  Rindy’s mood dampened even further. At the age of 4, she obviously wasn’t quite sure what was going on, she just wanted her family to be how it was, happy. Now it was a blessing if she could have both of her parents at once for an hour without tension. They did their best for her sake but cruel glances and tight lips were inescapable.

  “Did you finish your Christmas list?” You watched as Rindy sat on her bed. The paper was on her little desk, scribbled in orange crayon. You told Rindy to make a draft and then the two of you would make an official, fancy one to send to Santa.

  Rindy perked up a little at the mention of the holiday, though her mood was still glum. “I think so…” Her eyes fell to the paper in your hand. “There's something else I want. But I can’t remember.” 

  You scanned the paper again. “You can’t remember?”

  “No…”

  “Hm…” The paper was covered in various toy names. You’d tried to help Rindy write on the lines but half of the paper was unusable from an apple juice spill so the writing was a bit janky. It would do, though. “Was it another toy?”

  “Yeah.” Rindy pouted again.

  There was a particularly loud shout from Harge downstairs. Rindy shuddered.

  You reached to close the vent to hopefully muffle some of the sound when the little girl spoke.

  “Are adults on the naughty list too?” Rindy asked.

  “If they behave badly, then yes.” You looked outside. “Why do you ask?”

  “Daddy told me Mommy is on the naughty list.” Rindy said in a softer tone. “But Mommy isn’t bad.”

  You couldn’t help but frown a little at that. What else had Harge been telling Rindy about Carol? You were about to ask when Carol’s angry voice sounded from downstairs and a new idea came to mind.

  “No, neither of your parents are bad. Sometimes people just say things they don’t mean.” You bent down in front of the girl and set your hands on her knees. “How about we go for a walk? You like walks in the snow, right?”

  That seemed to cure Rindy’s worries as she nodded with a silly grin.

  The two of you got dressed for the weather and left. You made a point to interrupt the fighting, which had now subdued to both of the adults standing in awkward, tense silence, Carol’s fingers to her temple and Harge pinching the bridge of his nose. They just nodded when you told them what you were doing, though once the two of you were outside you could hear them fighting again.

  The walk tired Rindy out and when you returned. Harge said goodbye to her and left, then you put the little girl to bed.

  When you finished, Carol was standing in the kitchen and staring into the sink. She heard your footsteps across the wooden floor and turned to look at you with tired eyes. 

  “I can’t thank you enough… for everything.” Carol murmured defeatedly, checking her watch. “I’ve missed my lunch…” She’d hired you to come over for the day to watch Rindy while she went out to lunch with friends but that clearly wasn’t going to happen now, not after the whole ordeal with Harge.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You had nothing to do with it.” Carol shook your head and turned to face you. She looked exhausted. “I suppose I’ll have to call… tell them the car had a flat.” Her voice was low as she pondered an excuse. “What a horrible turnout… it’s Gabriela’s birthday…”

  You watched quietly as Carol struggled to piece together what to do. It wasn’t your place to ask questions, but you’d never seen her this way before. “Are you okay?”

  “To be honest, I’m a little frazzled.” Carol admitted softly. She smoothed her hair down and leaned back into the counter. “Dealing with Harge… it’s draining, truly. He’s been getting angrier every time I see him.”

  “What did he want?”

  Her eyes darkened. “To take Rindy with him to Florida for Christmas. His ‘mother’ requested it.” She scoffed bitterly. “As if Rindy’s own mother is lesser than her. You might as well just tell me to my face that I’m not worth anything to her.”

  “That’s awful…” Your frown deepened. 

  “Isn’t it?” Carol forced a smile. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this, I should be paying you extra at this point for everything you do. No normal babysitter puts up with this…”

  “I don’t mind.” You assured her quickly.

  “I do.” Carol sighed and turned to face the sink again as if looking in your eyes was too much to bear. “Why do you do this anyway? I’m sure my burdens are the last thing you want to carry.”

  You hesitated, thinking over the question. Carol had a point. Half of the things you did were way above your paygrade, and they certainly kept you up at night… So why did you do it?

  You couldn’t admit to her face that Carol herself was the reason you stuck around. You’d been enamored by the woman ever since you first set eyes upon her, and she’d been so kind to you, taking you in with open arms. She’d grown more distant since you first met but you couldn't blame her. 

  With everything going on with Harge, Carol was more exhausted than usual. She’d often forget you were supposed to come on certain days but welcomed you to stay for the sake of it either way. On those nights, you’d head home with a free paycheck, and usually some cookies. 

  And on the nights where she did go out and would come home late, the two of you often spent some time speaking in low voices in the living room, you offering comforting words and her soaking them in like water in a desert. She’d confessed things to you she’d told nobody else during those late nights. Instead of Harge, you’d come along with her to things at Rindy’s school or fun activities out of the house. You were there for both of them even more than Harge was.

  You liked being there for Carol, being the one solid thing she relied on.

  “Rindy’s the best kid I know.” You said instead of confessing it all. “I really like hanging out with her. I’d feel awful to leave her.”

  Carol was satisfied with that answer. Her brows softened and she took your hand into hers, giving it a firm squeeze. “You’re a sweet thing, you know that?” She murmured in a low voice. “I don’t know where I’d be without you, Y/n.”

  Heat spread across your face and you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. “It’s no problem.”

  “Look at you… an angel, truly.” Carol’s voice softened to a whisper and her eyes fell upon your face as if truly taking you in for the first time. Her gaze was so intense, like it was filling your lungs with cotton, you had to look away to breathe. When you looked back, she smiled too and squeezed your hand once more before letting go. “An angel.” She repeated, voice so soft you wouldn’t have known what she said if you weren’t gazing at her lips.

  You ended up staying until dinner before heading home. 

  It was around noon the next day that Carol frantically phoned you, going on and on about an important event that night that had slipped her mind. When you agreed to watch Rindy you could have sworn she was glowing with relief.

  You hardly saw Carol when you arrived as the second you came inside, she was out the door. But she did give you a quick kiss on the cheek, a habit she’d picked up when you were especially life saving.

  You and Rindy had a fun night of board games, mac and cheese, and her favorite movie that you caught on tv. She was out like a light at 9:00 and soon you had the house to yourself.

  When you put Rindy to bed you settled down at the piano in the study. You could’ve sworn you heard the door open but when you called, nobody replied, so you focused your study on the instrument. 

  It was only after you finished the song that you noticed Carol stood in the doorway, watching. She wasn’t sober, clearly. Her eyes were red, her dress a little rumpled and lipstick smudged, probably from downing multiple cups of rich champagne.

  “Oh, Carol, I’m sorry.” You got up quickly. “I didn’t hear you come in… how was it?”

  Carol’s hazy eyes met yours. “It was… horrible, truly. Long, exhausting speeches with no point. Crowds packed like sardines. Stupid, stupid people…” She muttered to herself, trailing off. Then suddenly: “I didn’t know you played the piano.”

  “Just as a hobby.”

  “You’re quite good.” Carol pressed her head into the frame of the door, clutching it tightly as though seeking out the cold from the wood. “I’m sorry… I drank more than I realized. I’m not the best with alcohol.”

  “Oh, it’s alright.” You were at her side within seconds. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Just… help me to the couch. I’m a little dizzy.”

  You quietly guided Carol into the living room, hand resting firm on her back. She sank into the cushions with a breath of relief, head falling back. 

  “Thank you. I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to return like this.” Carol mumbled, draping a hand over her eyes. “The champagne was too tempting to pass up.. I cannot survive a party with my nerves as frayed as they are… goodness, can you get me some water?”

  You got her a glass of water and she took it shakily, lifting the rim to her lips.

  “Much better…” Carol drank half of the glass, then set it aside. She’d sobered up a bit since sitting down. “How is Rindy? Is she asleep?”

  Just as you were about to respond, there was a thump from upstairs. Rindy had a habit of restless sleep and would often roll out of bed without even waking up.

  The two of you exchanged a glance and Carol began to rise but you set your hand on her arm. “I’ll do it.” You murmured. She didn’t bother arguing.

  You went back upstairs and, as expected, Rindy was now asleep on the floor, wrapped tight in a fuzzy flannel blanket. You scooped her back up and tucked her into bed.

  You stopped on the stairs back down, fingers quietly clasping around the railing. Carol was standing now over by the window. Her shoulders were shaking softly and you could hear whimpers. 

  You knew that you should probably go back upstairs and give her a few minutes of peace but you couldn’t. It was like your feet were glued to the stairs… and when they weren’t, you were walking towards her.

  Carol didn’t turn to face you this time, one hand clasped over her mouth to muffle her sobs.

  Her sweater was warm beneath your hand. You traced your thumb across the pattern, feeling the soft grain of it. She pressed her back into your palm and sniffled.

  “I don’t know what to do…” Carol whispered to you, sounding fully sober now. “Everything’s falling apart.”

  “Is it Harge?”

  “Harge, Rindy, Abby, everything…” Carol’s voice cracked. “Anything I do only makes it worse. Maybe… maybe Harge is right… that I’m not good for Rindy.”

  The simple admission sent her bursting into sobs. Broken, pained and guttural sobs.

  “Don’t say that.” You slowly slipped your arms around her, holding her from behind. You’d hugged her before but this felt more intimate than ever… you just hoped she couldn’t feel your racing heart.

  Even if she could, Carol said nothing as she leaned back into you. She looked over her shoulder and sniffled, mascara running down her face. “You don’t need to lie to me, Y/n… I-I know what’s best for my baby, and it’s n-not me.”

  “No, no…” You cooed softly, squeezing her middle as you held her tight from behind. “Carol, Rindy needs her mother, and you’re the best mother she’s got.”

  The older woman sniffled, then gently grabbed your arm. You loosened your grip around her and she turned to face you, then pulled you into her arms and buried her face into your neck.

  You held her as she cried, rocking her from side to side as you rubbed her back. She sobbed her heart out, a little more emotional than usual from the alcohol in the system, but mostly because of the exhaustion of the growing weight on her shoulders. There was nowhere else she could go, nobody else to turn to, but you.

  “I’m horrible…” Carol whispered against your shoulder. 

  “Not at all.” You murmured softly, moving one hand to gently twirl the ends of her hair with a shake of your head. “You’re wonderful.”

  “You’re just lying to make me feel better.”

  “No. I’m not.”

  Carol slowly lifted her head to meet your gaze, her eyes teary and red. “Why… Why are you so good to me?” Her whisper was broken and sad. “I-I don’t… I don’t understand.”

  “Because you’ve only ever been good to me.” You whispered soothingly. Your hand slipped beneath the sleeve of your shirt and you wiped the tears from her face with the fabric. 

  “I’ve deceived you as well. then.” Carol whimpered pathetically. “I’m horrible, y/n. I’m so sorry…”

  “Stop it with that.” Before you realized what was happening, your palm was against her warm, damp cheek. You weren’t sure if the blush across her face was from crying or your actions but you didn’t pull away. With your thumb, you gently caressed the side of her face. “You’re not horrible.”

  “I-I…”

  “You’re not.” You insisted. “Say it.”

  Carol’s lips trembled and she pressed her cheek further into your hand. With a sniffle, she opened her mouth. “I’m not… I’m not horrible.” She choked out weakly.

  “There you go.” You smiled. You brushed her hair out of her face and smoothed it back down. “It’s easier to believe if you say it.”

  The older woman hiccuped softly and closed her eyes. A few more tears fell down her face and were quickly wiped away by your caring hand. She took a deep shaky breath, then opened her eyes again to meet yours. “...drinking makes me emotional.” Her words were half truth, drinking did in fact make her emotional, but even without the drinks she probably would’ve broken down.

  “That’s okay.” You chuckled, loosening your grip on her waist. She was about to let go of your shoulders but stopped.

  Her face was inches from yours, her soft, trembling breath on your face as she stared into your eyes with an odd look on her face, as though you’d just taught her something unheard of. Her lips trembled again and she blinked rapidly, then leaned a little closer. 

  “Y/n…” The tip of her nose brushed against yours. One of her hands found the back of your head.

  “Carol…” You whispered in return, feeling your heart lurch. You shouldn’t be doing this, really. This was the last thing Carol needed. She was tipsy and an emotional wreck, you were just an outlet for her to take her pain out on. You should pull away.

  But you couldn't bring yourself to do so. The desperation in her eyes was clear. She was begging you without words, yet you could hear just what she’d say in your mind.

  You’d never been kissed before. You slowly leaned your head forward until it was hardly an inch away from hers, then you stopped.

  Taking the hint, Carol closed the gap between the two of you.

  You never wanted to pull away from the kiss. The second her lips found yours, your eyes fluttered shut and she sank into you like every bone in her body turned to liquid. It was a sweet kiss, warm, longing, yet oddly affectionate. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest and if you weren’t responsible for keeping Carol from falling onto the floor, you would’ve swooned.

  Her hands found their way into your hair, gripping the locks gently and holding your head against hers. She kissed you with a strange ferocity, both velvet and electric. If she hadn’t run out of breath, she wouldn’t have pulled away.

  Carol slowly and reluctantly broke the kiss, straightening herself back up. There was a different look in her eyes now, the haze of worry and depression now replaced with the softest lust and the warmest relief. The kiss rejuvenated her. She could stand on her own now, though she kept her hand on your arm.

  “Thank you.” Carol whispered before planting a kiss on your forehead. She offered you a small little smile and dusted herself off. You fixed her hair. Then she took a step back, a little wobbly once more. “I should… go to bed. I fear I’ll be rather sick tomorrow.”

  “Drink lots of water.” You finally managed to rasp, earning a laugh from the older woman.

  “I will, I promise.” She nodded. “Your money is on the table… should I call a cab?” Her eyes fell to the window. It was snowing outside. Most cab drivers weren’t fans of driving from here to the city and back in this weather. “Perhaps it would be best if you stayed.”

  If it weren’t for the tone in her voice, you wouldn’t bat an eye. You’d stayed over plenty of times before when the hours slipped past you, often falling asleep on the couch and waking up to a blanket over your body or gratefully accepting her invitation to stay in the guest room. But this time it was different.

  Carol’s eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary. “Would you be a dear and stay, Y/n? I’m sure I’ll be a wreck tomorrow… having you to take care of Rindy would be a blessing.”

  “I’d love to stay.” You nodded.

  “Sweet thing…” Carol murmured, grip tightening on the railing of the stairs. She pressed herself into the wall for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’d bring a glass of water and some pain killers to my room? I need to lay down…”

  “Go lay down, I’ll be there in a moment.” You nodded. Carol called a faint ‘thank you’ before ascending upstairs to her room. You quickly grabbed the items of her request and followed her trail, hesitating in front of her door. Then you nudged it open.

  Carol was laying in bed in a nightgown. She smiled sleepily as you stuck your head in the room and beckoned you with one hand. “I haven’t had the time to tidy the guest bedroom.”

  “That’s alright, I don’t mind.” You set her treasures down on the nightstand, reaching to tuck her in.

  “I do.” Carol’s fingers lightly wrapped around your wrist. “Stay… won’t you?”

  How could you deny her? Every word from her mouth only enamored you more. With a soft smile and red face, you joined her in bed, feeling yourself get enveloped in the lavish sheets and warm arms.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

omg local baker who Mike has baking abbys bday cake but he has a crush on her ????

Oh my God this is so cute to me. I wanna run a coffee shop/mini bakery and this is just perfect and beautiful omg

I'm writing this with the idea that fnaf happened but didn't *happen* like no one died lmao

~~

Mike wasn't sure what to expect. At all.

It had been an incredibly tough year, each day somehow becoming more rough than the previous. From mom passing, to job hopping, to Aunt Jane trying to get the courts even more involved. Despite all that, he did his damndest to not let it affect Abby.

He knew in some aspects it was inevitable. A young child losing a parent was never easy; she heard his grumbling and arguments with Aunt Jane, the comments about not being able to pay Max, found papers he should have hidden a little better

But birthdays and holidays were sacred. That he made sure of.

So, against his pride and better judgement, he had asked Aunt Jane for a little help throwing Abby a birthday party. She was more than happy to, surprisingly, with the agreement they come up for Thanksgiving this year. And begrudgingly, he agreed.

That's how he ended up at the doorstep of a brick townhouse closer to the city, a paper in his hand with an address scrawled in his Aunt's too neat handwriting. She'd given him a list of stores and things and places and people to get everything from in order to throw a "proper birthday party."

He did a double take on the numbers and street address, making sure they matched and still slightly confused as to why he was at a person's house and not a store. With a shrug and a tired sigh, he knocked on the door, the scurrying of animals evident inside almost immediately followed by a "shush" as he heard another door shut before the one in front of him went to open.

He didn't know what to expect, and sure as hell didn't expect to have a girl a little younger than him open the door, an apron on and covered in flour. She looked almost frazzled for a moment before shutting the door behind her, eyes moving from the curious furry creatures to the man now in front of her.

"Hi, sorry," she sounded almost as tired and exasperated as he did, "been a busy day, and my lovely little fur-babies have been noisy."

She wiped her hands on her apron, "I - I don't think we've met before." Her eyebrows were scrunched, confusion etching into her features.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. I'm Mike. My uh- my Aunt Jane suggested you to me. Told me you make the best cakes and cupcakes and gave me your address to place an order."

He could see the cogs working in her brain as she tried to pin poin who he was talking about, "Oh! That's right, she gave me a call the other day to make sure I'd have the time. You need the order for next Saturday, right?"

He nodded, "Yeah, next Saturday at noon."

"Perfect, yes. Come in, we'll fill out the forms and get everything set. My pets are actually in the front room so you don't have to worry about them."

A cup of coffee, a curious conversation, and too many forms later, Mike felt like he was in a dream. The girl sitting across the table from him was captivating, a sense of excitement and passion he longed to have and admired. There was a sweetness to her, something he was sure he'd be able to taste in more ways than just her baking skills.

"Okay," her voice cut through his thoughts, "So, we're doing 24 cupcakes, half chocolate and half vanilla, then a 9 inch rounch cake with mint chocolate. And it's rainbow, fairy, unicorn, princess themed. Does that all sound right?"

He chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, sorry I couldn't give you more specifics. She's sort of all over the place and it's a surprise party."

"Oh no, don't worry. I'm going to have fun with this. Does she like glitter?"

He nodded again before taking a quick sip of his coffee. "Yeah, yeah. She loves glitter. Her favorite thing to do is draw as well."

"Perfect. Well, Mike, you're definitely more pleasant than your Aunt," she laughed softly, standing up and placing the form in a little file holder, "But don't tell her I said that. I'll send her the bill tomorrow. I hope Abby loves the cake."

Mike stood up, a tinge of disappointment that their interaction was coming to an end so soon. "I'm sure she will. She loves sweet." He sat his coffee cup in the sink. "So uh, when should I pick up the cake?"

"Oh! Don't worry about it. Jane invited me to the party so I'll just bring it all with me, I could use the networking with other parents so it works out."

His eyes widen some, lips twitching up into a small smile. "Okay, cool. I'll uh, I'll see you next week." He hesitated for a moment before grabbing a rogue napkin and the pen he was using to fill out the forms, quickly scribbling something onto it.

"Here," he handed her the napkin, "My number in case uh, in case you wanna talk more." He paused for a moment, watching her eyes scan the numbers, "For the uh. The cake. The party."

She giggled softly, looking at him as his features began to blush. "Yeah. For the cake and the party."

He chuckled anxiously, "Thanks again. I'll see you later." Mike let himself out before he could make himself even more embarrassed, standing on the porch for a moment after he closed the door behind him, unaware that the sweet baker was inside quietly squealing over the poorly written number.

[beanarie]

21 hours

i just kept rolling around the moment from my last fic when tommy said "i turn into the unabomber when i get scared, just ask hen and howie" and i wondered, what could possibly be scarier than thinking he might lose buck right after getting him back. (tw: panic attacks)

~

Hen's feelings on Tommy Kinard are... malleable. He was trash when they met, and for a solid few months after that. They remained on the same crew, struggling and bleeding and getting each other out of scrapes. That built a measure of trust. After Gerrard and the worst of his minions vanished, he changed. Became almost sweet. He and Chimney, who had always been okay, hit it off like a house on, you know. Hen liked this new version of her teammate, who seemed to be finding his feet after losing some seriously bad influences. She enjoyed their group hangouts. Maybe a year after his transfer to Air Ops, her friend Casey shared that Tommy was gay and out to his new unit, which, good for him.

She never forgot the asshole who helped make her feel like she would never belong, but he got smaller over time, easily overtaken by whoever Tommy felt like showing her.

The call today was going fine until it all went to hell, another unwelcome similarity to the night Buck got struck by lightning. The victims were alert and on their feet, ambulating on their own power right ahead of him, when he saw the heavy mahogany shelving unit lose its moorings and shoved the family out of the way just in time. That of course put him right in its path.

For a long, terrible minute while he was pinned she and Chim thought they didn't have a pulse. But it was there. They found it eventually. And he made it to the hospital without crashing.

Having heard a little about Buck's efforts to rekindle their relationship (along with his feeble arguments that they were strictly platonic), Hen isn't shocked when Tommy shows up at the waiting room. But she wasn't expecting the asshole.

Chimney eyes her, asking if she's seeing what he is. They recognize this man. The linebacker set of the shoulders, the distancing lift to his chin. Bobby asks him if he wants coffee, and he simply wrinkles his nose.

He's pissed. Maybe he blames them for letting Buck get hurt.

"Enough," Eddie says, flinging himself out of the chair. "We're taking a walk."

"Don't speak for me," Tommy spits out.

"Now," he growls.

Surprisingly, Tommy goes, but Hen isn't sure that's a good thing. Eddie has a history of making problems worse with his fists. Chim is on the phone with Maddie, figuring out the logistics of two scared parents who can't be in two places at the same time. He's no help. Hen considers asking Bobby if they're gonna let Buck's sort of ex and his best friend lay each other out while he's in emergency surgery. But he's never really up for mediating nonsense when one of them is badly hurt, especially not when it's Buck.

The surgeon comes out and speaks for a moment. Hen now has a compelling reason to intervene. She turns a corner and soon finds them. Eddie leaning in, glaring, while Tommy cuts him off and stalks away a few paces.

"You're not even trying," Eddie says tightly.

"Shut up." Tommy whirls back the way he came, breathing hard.

"Three things. Chim's baby could do it and he can't even sit up by himself."

"One day, Eddie. One. Are you fucking kidding me?"

Hen blinks. Tommy sounds like he's holding back tears.

"Tommy, man, come on. If you pass out and end up in the bed right next to Buck, he'll 100 percent blame me. Get it together."

The dots connect themselves. The pacing. The irregular breathing. Eddie prompting him to list three things. Tommy is having a panic attack.

"Guys?" Hen says. Tommy's head snaps up. Their eyes meet and if she wasn't already sure, this would do it. That isn't anger. That's pure terror. "Surgery went well. They're wheeling Buck into recovery. They said someone can go be with him when they bring him around."

"Tommy's going," Eddie announces. "If he can remember how to breathe."

Tommy has a hand on his own chest. "Dickhead."

"Hen, can you walk him over?" Eddie raises one shaking hand. "I need to sit for a minute."

Tommy's eyes widen. "Shit, Eddie, I didn't even ask." Tommy comes close to invading Eddie's space, stopping only when Eddie holds him off.

Eddie gives him a half-smile. "I'm fine, Tom. The rest of us are all fine. It's just an adrenaline dump. I'm gonna call my kid and let him bitch about organic chemistry and the school musical until my heart stops pounding." He squeezes Tommy's shoulder and gives him a shove. "Go on."

All the way down the hall, Tommy mutters to himself, trying to do what Eddie asked and regulate his breathing, but it doesn't seem to be working.

"What happened yesterday?" Hen asks curiously, stuck on his earlier comment.

He's so surprised his lungs stutter to a complete stop. He looks down at her, blinking hard, and he shakes himself. "We agreed to try again," he says.

"Damn," she blurts out, and almost apologizes before he lets out a humorless little laugh.

"I know!"

She doesn't tell him how it felt to watch her son coding not two weeks after they got her daughter back. She's not sure how to say this is just their lives, that the only reason they get through it is because they have each other. He's spent enough time observing them.

They've reached the recovery room. Tommy cracks his neck and straightens his spine. "Hen?" he asks, tentatively, pausing with one hand on the double doors. "Do you need to go home? Karen-"

"Isn't expecting anything but updates from me until morning," Hen says. This isn't a regular day.

He nods. "Can you stick around? Some of these doctors suck at communicating and- and I want to make sure I'm ready for whatever he's gonna need."

So maybe he has figured it out. "No problem, Tommy. I'll be right here."

"Thank you." He takes a deep breath and pushes the doors open. Through the split second sliver before they swing shut again, she catches a glimpse of Buck on the gurney, his face mottled with purple from the books that flew off the top shelf (an encyclopedia, like they used to keep in the '90s). He looks terrible. When he wakes up for real, he's gonna feel even worse. But she's pretty sure he'll be just fine.

[pjoxreader]

Reader x platonic pjo characters? I was wondering if you would do what some of the pjo characterss would say if you showed up at their place with bruises from your bf/gf or parent. If you need more specifics then they knew that you had a toxic household but they didn't know you would get hurt and they are either mad or dissapointed or even sad because they didn't see it sooner. Just some fluffy hugs and it's okays. If you feel better writing creatively then ignore what I said. And if it makes you uncomfortable pls don't do it.

((You didn't say what three characters you would like for this so I went ahead and picked out characters I thought would fit best! I hope it's alright!))

PJO Characters Reaction to Abused Reader (Platonic)

TW: Abuse

Leo Valdez

-He was hard at work in the middle of the night in bunker 9, he hadn’t even heard you enter.

-”Leo…?” you call him which gets his attention. He turns in surprise, honestly not expecting anyone to be awake this late.

-But when he turns to say something, the words die in his throat. There you stood with a nasty bruise forming over your that was already starting to swell.

-For the first time in Leo’s life he felt his blood go cold. He could only stare in shock before he forces himself to move, quickly going to your side.

-”What happened!? Who did this to you!” he asks in worry, checking how bad it was. He felt guilty seeing you flinch away at his yelling and it all clicked. Your partner. Of course. You had told him about the arguments but you never told him it got this bad…

-He gets you an ice pack and goes to the small sofa, the Hephaestus cabin would use to crash on after a long work day. 

-He holds you close, rubbing soothing circles on your back to try and ease you to sleep, holding the ice pack for you. Whispering gentle words of reassurance that he’ll stay.

Percy Jackson

-He was training, working on his sword fighting form when you came over.

-He perks up at that, excitedly ready to ask you to join him for training. But then he saw that your normal smile was gone and instead you looked… Anguished… Holding your side. 

-”What happened?” Percy demands leaving zero room for negotiation. You hesitate before letting it all spill. You had gotten into a fight with your partner and it ended up with you being shoved hard into the table.

-Percy is deathly silent, which is honestly terrifying but he pulls you into a hug just holding you close. You hadn’t realized that tears were streaming down your face.

-Now that you noticed you couldn’t help the choke sob that forces its way past your throat as you wail into Percy’s shoulder. -”It’ll be alright… I’ll make sure they never hurt you again.” he whispers trying to help soothe you. Once you fall asleep he carries you back to your bed making sure to tuck you in and leave you some water.

-He stretches his arms and shoulders as he heads out. His fatal flaw was loyalty and no one, no god, no demigod and no mortal was going to get away with hurting his friends.

 Annabeth Chase

-You had been gone for a while, claiming that you were sick. Honestly? She was worried. She comes over having made some chicken noodle soup. It was only three days into camp and you were already sick? 

-She gently knocks, when you don’t respond she makes her way into your room assuming you were asleep.

-She didn’t expect to see you changing, a nasty cut along your shoulder. She dropped the soup in surprise.

-When you flinch when the bowl shatters and back yourself against the wall is when it all clicks for her. How you normally got sick the first week before camp, how you said you had arguments with your parents… 

-She didn’t dig as she knew it was sensitive but… She was a daughter of Athena, and she hadn’t realized the pain you were going through. -You were both quiet as you stared at each other, both waiting for the other to say something. But she closes her eyes, sorting through her own emotions. She failed you, she failed to notice the signs of your suffering… Some friend she was…

-But she could help you now. She makes her way over and works on wrapping the wound correctly. “This next summer I’m staying at camp… You should stay too.”

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the recent ask game, i’m really curious about your take on 7 + 8 :P

for the choose violence ask game!

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how the fandom acts about them?

i'll be so honest: Jason Todd. i know there's a lot of argument of "who has the worst fans" and i think that question is flawed and impossible to answer, but i will say Jason fans irked me so deeply. because i read mostly 90s era Batfam, i admittedly didn't have a lot of exposure to Jason for a while, expect for his New-52 runs i'd read years ago. and since i never liked him based on those runs, i could not understand *what* his fans liked about him, or where they got some of their headcanons/ideas from. i've never been more baffled. it ranges from "oh i don't agree but you do you, i guess?" to "what character are you talking about i am BAFFLED". and it soured me on Jason for so long that i actually hate read *most* of his pre-Flashpoint appearances just to understand what on earth people liked about him. and now i can say, i love him dearly, but i can also say, i still don't know what character his fans are talking about sometimes. and i hate the fanon version of Jason who feels almost, Deadpool-ified? with this self-aware slapstick humor but a sad soft interior but also sassy and will kill a man it's just. it feels very hollow to me and it has made me almost tempted to block his character tag more than once over the years bc sometimes certain takes make it difficult to even like him. i just have to tune it out or yell about it for hours.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

i'm going to get particularly saucy with this one: that Dick Grayson has Eldest Daughter Syndrome. or more generally, that he was parentified. not a single ounce of Dick's backstory indicates him as being parentified. to be parentified you have to be a child taking care of other children either emotionally or physically because your parents are not fulfilling that role. and Dick was *never* a child at the time that another child was under Bruce's care. he has been an adult for the entirety he has known every other Batkid. and even then, the *only* one he was something you could akin to being a parent figure to was Damian, and Dick *chose* that. Dick was a grown-ass man in his late 20s who had the facilities and capacity to make the decision to be Damian's primary caretaker. he's never been parental toward any of the other Batkids, nor has Bruce ever forced upon him the role of having to raise them. did Bruce do a sort of questionable job with Dick? yeah. but i would argue Bruce did the best job with Dick of all the Batkids, and even if he was shitty with Dick, he couldn't parentify Dick bc there was no one for Dick to be parenting. and Dick wasn't parenting Bruce either. they just had a normal relationship of loving and caring for each other.

as for Eldest Daughter Syndrome i just.. i Do Not Like calling any male character "female coded" or "female rage coded" or "eldest daughter coded" because they're *not*. especially not in *this* medium. these are male characters, created by men, written by men 90% of the time, and written to be *male power fantasies*. nothing about Dick or Jason or any Batboy is female-coded bc they exist to be badass men. just because they show emotion and have complex relationships with Bruce doesn't make them suddenly women. Dick shows his anger in a very destructive, stereotypically "masculine" way. even if we strip it of gender, Dick doesn't exhibit most traits of Eldest Daughter Syndrome. he easily makes relationships with people his age, he has no issues telling Bruce no, he did not have caretaking responsibilities forced onto him by Bruce, he's not even really hyperindependent. Dick has a support system outside of the Bats, the fandom just ignores it. does Dick force caretaking responsibilities onto himself sometimes? can he be an overachiever? absolutely. but these are internal complexes that just come with making a character a superhero, it's a complex they all have. if i have to hear one more fan call him Eldest Daughter Syndrome-core or say he's a victim of parentification, i think I'll explode a little bit.

[daddy-cake]

Krueger x Mexican!Reader Headcanons

Y'all already know the drill, this is all sfw and Gender Neutral!Reader

No use of any Y/N variations

A/N: I'm Mexican and in love with him... I just had to. This place needed more Mexican!Readers anyways🙄

MEXICO RAHHHH🇲🇽🇲🇽🇲🇽🇲🇽✊🏼✊🏼✊🏼✊🏼

Reader is also implied to not be part of the military. Sorry not sorry <33.

Warnings: All of these just silly goofy

MASTERLIST

First time meeting your family is going to be Krueger's last.

The family wasn't so happy to hear that you fell in love with a white man.. They could have let it slide if he was American because most Mexicans are a suck up to Americans... but Austrian? Grandma was literally crying at the news and praying for the family, she was claiming that the family was truly doomed. The only thing that will get the family to calm down is you reminding them that he isn't from Spain or Argentina. Heavy on Argentina.

Family is going to be calling him "El Barbie" in a derogatory sense. You tried to tell him that it was a compliment and means that's he's tough in Spanish.

Your dad definitely tried to bond with him by taking him to rooster fight. However, the two came home and your father was beyond mad. He starts claiming that Sebastian is bad luck because his rooster, who has a streak of wining 20 tournaments, lost. Got rubbed by the egg afterwards.

Sebastian isn't too pleased with the environment. Parents are having an argument, kids are running around screaming or crying, music is playing at full volume, one of the dogs are barking, the tías are gossiping, La Rosa de Guadalupe is playing, Grandma rubbing him with the egg and praying, Grandpa is working on the roof, and some cousin is vacuuming.

When dinner came around... lord help this man. He wasn't prepared for the spice that only he could taste. Had tears trying to escape then he had to excuse himself from the table and go outside to regain his composure. The whole family was muttering "No aguanta nada" the whole time.

To say he was relieved to hear that you two were going home is an understatement. He preferred more of a quiet environment than one that is loud and makes it very apparent that he's not welcomed there.

When you two arrived at your own place he was ready to just pass out. He was warned that the place was going to be busy, but he thought he could handle it and it wasn't that bad since he was a soldier... he should've listened to you.

The next day was spent inside and not even letting an ounce of the outside in. Krueger dearly needed it to just regain his sanity from the pervious day.

Everything was going fine until when he wanted to prepare something for lunch. He was looking all over the kitchen for the pots and pans until he finally gave up and asked you where you kept them.

"Why are they in the oven?"

"You don't put them in the oven?"

Krueger at one point received a gift that was rooster from you and was so confused why you would gift him this. At first, he thought it was some sort of joke gift from you until he realized it was a genuine gift after a few seconds of silence. Doesn't even know what to do with it, so he ended up giving it to your dad. Dad was not happy.

The one time the both of you went out to dinner, he was not expecting other guests to keep telling you two to have a good meal as it wasn't a thing in all of the countries he has lived in.

Was told by you not to speak at all when you two were out on the streets or else y'all would get jump. Krueger doesn't listen to the rules though.

When you left your Banda music on while doing some chores, he was about to turn it off but he got really into the music.

Got a chihuahua simply because you begged for one and he found it somewhat funny that despite their small sizes they are very protective. Also it was between that or the stray xoloitzcuintli down the street that's been there for around 10 years.

100% brags about thechihuahua, saying he has a vicious dog that could kill anyone. Everyone thought he got a Rottweiler for a long time.

La Quebradita. Trust once you teach Krueger the basics, y'all gonna be making your cousins and their partners jealous. Considering he's part of a PMC and once in the military, he obviously is gonna have some strength. That strength comes in handy when you two want go all out in a Quebradita competition.

Considering Krueger was once part of the military, he obviously would be sort of tidy considering that they engraved that trait into his head when he first joined. So yes, he would help you clean around the house. HOWEVER, laundry duty is always on him. Simply the way that you'll probably fold clothes would just trigger something in him like a sleeper agent.

You'll always have to be the first to initiate any sort of "I love you"s. He doesn't know why, but he just can't bring himself to say it to you.

When Sebastian is away on missions, he often times receive texts from you that revolves around staying safe. He can't help it, but to have a small smile plaster on his face.

There will be some point in the relationship that he would just go off the grid and/or no contact for a few days. It's not that he hates you. It's just that considering the life he has lead, he definitely needs some points to take a step back to recollect in a way. Also to stay away from authorities, but let's not take about that.

Would never go into any sort of detail about his background besides being part of the military. He'd never once talk about his parents or why he's no longer part of said military. To you he's kinda of an enigma. You know so little about him, but he knows so much about you. You that it was unfair in a sense. However, no matter how much you try to get answers, he'd never budge. So after awhile, you start chalking things up to him having a strained relationship with his parents (which in a lot of Mexican households would probably mean that his parents were absolutely vile if you go no contact with them) and possibly leaving the military on his own terms.

Krueger would go great lengths for a mangonada. Me too bro, me too.

[tiannasfanfic]

Eddie’s Easter Bucket

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: Not long after receiving custody of his 12 year old nephew, Eddie, Wayne Munson soon finds himself inventing a new family tradition for Easter.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, they/them pronouns (if any). Written for the Easter Event on the Eddie's Sluts Discord Server.

CW: None, just pure fluff.

Word Count: 1,453

For most of Eddie’s childhood, holidays were not really celebrated. With his mom gone and his dad always on the wrong side of the law, there wasn’t anyone around to make them into anything special.

Wayne picked up on this fairly early on after his nephew came to live with him. Outside of looking forward to the time off he got from school, Eddie was excited by little else. Even Christmas, normally the one holiday kids were the most rabid over, was barely a blip on the boy’s radar until Wayne surprised him with three small presents he managed to scrape up the money for.

Now that broke Wayne’s heart. Even with as dysfunctional as he and Ed’s parents were, holidays were always marked by some sort of acknowledgment, even if it was just something small. He decided right then that he would always do what he could to make holidays special for the boy.

Outside of Christmas and Eddie’s birthday, the other holiday Wayne liked to splurge on was Easter. Eddie had a bit of a sweet tooth and some of his favorite candies came out only during that time of year. So, as soon as Christmas was over, Wayne started setting money aside and soon a new Munson tradition was born: The Easter Bucket.

Initially, he was going to get Eddie an Easter basket, but when he went looking for one that first Easter with his nephew, he was shocked by just how much they cost. He had only expected them to be a dollar or two at most and didn’t have enough saved for both a basket AND the stuff to put in it. Finding himself in an unexpected predicament, Wayne started trying to think of a cheaper alternative to a basket.

Buckets, he suddenly realized, were free if you knew where to look. And he did know exactly where to look. Wayne was easily able to find a small plastic bucket that once contained roof nails, cleaned it up and used that instead.

Inside the bucket, Wayne shredded up some newspaper to act as Easter grass. Nestled in the shredded paper was a small chocolate bunny, a small bag of jelly beans, two Cadbury eggs and two Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs. While the Cadbury and Reese’s were Eddie’s favorites, Wayne didn’t feel right not getting him a chocolate bunny and jelly beans, which had been the small Easter tradition when he was growing up. Both him and Eddie’s dad would get a small bag of jelly beans each and a small chocolate bunny to share.

Remembering those childhood Easter’s as he was assembling the bucket, Wayne couldn’t help but chuckle. These were some of his few good childhood memories. Since Ed was the older of the two, he usually ended up with most of the chocolate bunny, which always caused an argument which left someone crying.

“Damnit, boys!” Wayne recalled his mother’s voice griping at the two of them. “If you don’t cut out that damn fighting, y’all aren’t getting one next year!”

That always got them to calm down real fast.

Since Eddie was already 12 years old when he came to live with his uncle, Wayne wasn’t sure if the boy would even like the Easter Bucket. He knew there was the possibility that his nephew would claim to be too old for Easter.

But, instead, Eddie was very excited when he woke up on Easter morning to find the bucket his uncle had snuck onto his desk while he slept. It really caught Wayne off guard when his nephew came barreling out of his room to tackle him in a bear hug of thanks, not used to sudden bursts of affection from the boy, but it also made his day.

Every year after that, at some point on Easter, Eddie would find that same bucket sitting on his desk. While it would always have the same standard items that were in there year after year, some years there might be an extra Cadbury Egg or maybe something new if Wayne had a little extra money when Easter rolled around. One year, there was a bag of Reese’s Pieces added to the bucket. Another year, it was a Hershey’s chocolate bar. It just varied.

Once Eddie was in high school, Wayne figured it was only a matter of time before his nephew really did claim to be too old for Easter. But the Easter Bucket after freshman year was met with the same bear hug of thanks that it always was. Wayne saw no harm in continuing on with the little tradition since he rather enjoyed it himself, too, and so he kept at it.

Easter weekend of 1987 ended up bringing some momentous changes to the Munson household.

Eddie was moving out of the trailer and into your apartment with you.

The two of you had met at a party the previous spring break and immediately hit it off. It didn’t take long before you were dating and virtually inseparable outside of work. You were a perfect match. Now it was time for the next step of your relationship.

On Friday, you and Eddie finished packing his stuff, then stayed the night at the trailer to get an early start. The next day, Wayne helped out and, between his truck, Eddie’s van, and your car, almost everything got moved over within just a few hours.

Since Wayne was working a double on the holiday for the extra money and he needed to get some rest, the three of you stopped for the day by midafternoon. After a dinner of pizza freshly delivered from the Hut, Wayne went home for an early night and the two of you started unpacking Eddie’s things.

By the time you and your boyfriend got over to the trailer on Sunday to get the last of his things, Wayne had already left for work. But as soon as Eddie walked into his old room to finish packing, his eyes landed on his old dresser and he broke into a grin.

Just like every year on Easter, there on the top of the dresser was Eddie’s Easter Bucket.

But, unlike the years prior, there was a second, newer looking bucket sitting next to his.

The grin on Eddie’s face was replaced by a look of confusion. He walked over to the dresser and curiously looked inside the second bucket. It took him a second to register what he was seeing, but when he did, his face broke into a delighted smile.

“Hey Y/N?” he called over his shoulder towards the living room. “C’mere a minute!”

A few moments later, you came up the hall and into the bedroom.

“What’s up?” you asked.

Eddie stepped aside so you could see the dresser and he gestured towards the second bucket.

“Uncle Wayne left something for you,” he said, a happy smile on his face.

Curious yourself now, you walked over to the dresser and looked inside the buckets. While Eddie had told you about the traditional Easter Bucket, seeing the bucket wasn’t a surprise, but just like him, you were surprised by the second bucket.

Both of the buckets contained a chocolate bunny and a bag of jellybeans, one bucket had some of Eddie’s favorite candy tucked in the shredded newspaper, and the other contained some of your favorites.

You blinked in surprise, then looked up at Eddie’s beaming face.

“How did he know?” you asked.

“Uncle Wayne asked me what kind of candy you liked a few months back,” he said, eyes shining. “I forgot about it until now when I saw the bucket.”

With wide eyes you looked back down at the contents of bucket. You felt your cheeks heating up with a blush at Wayne’s gesture.

At the beginning of you and Eddie’s relationship, his uncle had initially been wary of you. Over the years, Wayne had become a bit protective of his nephew, especially once the bullying by the town got bad. Sometimes that resulted in him coming across as cold towards you. Despite Eddie’s reassurances to the contrary, you worried that Wayne didn’t like you and didn’t approve of the relationship.

Presently, your boyfriend gently elbowed you in the ribs.

“See?” Eddie said, his voice happy and excited. “Told ya. It just takes him a bit to warm up to people. He was the same way with the guys in the band until he got to know them better.”

Still speechless, you looked up at Eddie with a dumbfounded expression on your face that made him chuckle. He wrapped his arms around you then and pulled you in for a hug before kissing you on the forehead.

“Happy Easter, sweetheart," he said, squeezing you tightly. "And welcome to the Munson family."

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore @bmunson86 @tayhar811

[ravenloop]

-In Time-

Pairing: Yandere!Heimdall X Female!reader

Request (in summary [requested by @oyasumimosura]): Reader is the daughter of Kratos and sister of Atreus. She goes to Asgard with Atreus and is very protective of him. While she's there, she catches the eyes of Heimdall and finds out his feelings for her are far more deeper and darker than she thought. (So sorry this took so long! Also was worried about making Heimdall too OOC so I changed it a bit, hope you don't mind :))

Warnings: Just normal Yandere stuff, Heimdall being creepy and possessive (more towards the end), bit of swearing, some violence.

AN: YALL IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN SO LONG 😭 I was busy and honestly didn't even know how long I didn't post in :') so have this request! Trying to clear out my inbox lol. I hope y'all like it cause I Def stressed trying to make it good sjnsj enjoy <3

————————————————————————

There was something so creepy about him.

The way he looked at you. Stared at you. He didn't even think about looking away when your gazes crossed. It was like he wanted things to be awkward between you both.

Not like you wanted any sort of relationship with Heimdall, but it would be nice if he tried to be a little hospitable, would be far better than whatever he was currently doing. Which was—not so shockingly—staring.

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, trying to act like you couldn't see him. Though, by now he probably read your mind and knew how you felt. Maybe that's why he kept doing it, he wanted you to feel extremely unwelcomed.

It wasn't like you wanted to come to Asgard in the first place. Your brother, Atreus, did. After a very heated argument back at Sindri's tree home, he ran off and sought out Asgard in spite. Of course he wasn't happy when you tracked him down, your father wouldn't be happy either—considering you went without his permission.

All you wanted was for Atreus to be safe. You'll be damned if you let your little brother get hurt by a bunch of piss-faced gods who think they're above everyone else.

With a sigh, you turned and walked away from the open area where Heimdall and a few other Aesir stood. Still, you could feel those eyes piercing through you like a spear.

"He's a weirdo, right?" You jolted, not expecting someone to talk to you. Turning towards the voice, you noticed Thor's daughter, "Um..."

She snorted at your awkward demeanor, "Relax. Everyone here thinks Heimdall is a jerk." You chuckled slightly at that, at least you knew you weren't alone.

"Im... glad to hear. Thrúd, is it?" She nodded. You've seen her talking to Atreus before leaving back at the lodge. Maybe she didn't have enough time to talk to you then, so she's doing it now. That or her parents didn't want her to.

"And you're Loki's sister, Huh?" She put her hand out, "Nice to meet ya!" Slowly you reached out and grabbed her hand, she shook it roughly. Seems like she's excited.

"He's told me a lot about you. Must be fun having a big sister. I've only had brothers." Oh, right. You remember her brothers, Magni and Modi—the ones father killed.

"Right." Suddenly the situation turned awkward.

"Always have to make newcomers feel threatened or uncomfortable, do you?" A hand landed on your shoulder, making you flinch and turn.

It was Heimdall again.

Good gods, how long was he standing there—was he watching you the entire time?!

This time he wasn't looking at you though, he was staring at Thrúd. She stared back, a frown on her face, "I don't always make people uncomfortable. Right?" She looked at you, making Heimdall do the same.

Both pair of eyes pinned you to your spot. Licking your teeth, you responded, "No, I don't think you do." This was literally your first time talking to her so you didn't know if what you said was even true. Hopefully it was.

Heimdall rolled his eyes, "Lies. Lies. But I will leave you to be her personal toy if that's what you'd like. Nine realms know she hasn't made a single friend since being pushed out." Stepping back, he bowed mockingly before walking off with a laugh. But you didn't miss the way his eyes lingered on you a little longer.

Thrúd scowl, "Don't worry about him. He's just being an ass as always. It's nothing new." You nodded. That was strangely relieving. Maybe he'd soon realise you weren't worth it and would leave you alone. Maybe.

____________________

He didn't stop.

Those purple eyes never left your form. They tracked your everywhere. It felt like not even walls could stop him, like he'd just burn holes through them.

Even now, as people talked and murmured amongst themselves in the dining hall, he didn't focus on them. He only focused on one person. You.

The only reason you were even there was because Atreus was. It was late, the moon was high, and he had only just gotten back from a mission Odin sent him on a few minutes ago. It frustrated you how much Odin kept you and your brother separate, and Atreus was too oblivious to notice it.

I need to speak to him privately. We can't stay here any longer, You thought, staring at Atreus as he munched on a piece of bread. It was probably cold.

Opening your mouth, you were about to call his name, but he cut you off by yawning. "I think that mission tired me..." He laughed sheepishly, rubbing his neck, "I'm gonna go sleep."

Atreus stood quickly, moving to leave the hall. "Wait-" You grabbed his shoulder, making him turn, "Atreus, I need to speak to you... In private."

He stared at you. His eyes swiftly glanced over your shoulder before returning to you, "Could... It wait until morning? I'm really tired..." Your brows furrowed. Why was he acting like this? "I- alright..." You let go of him, watching as he smiled at you, saying goodnight before disappearing down the stairs.

It bothered you that he clearly knew it was important, yet decided it could wait, but the look in his eyes told you something was off. And the way he looked past you—at what? At who?

Turning around, your eyes scanned the hall. And you noticed one person—one god—who wasn't there. Heimdall.

That bastard.

The large doors of the lodge swayed the tiniest bit, indicating someone just left, forgetting to close them properly maybe.

You weaved past a few servants in your way, not caring about what they whispered to their fellow acquaintances. You shouldered open the door more aggressively than intended, but you didn't care. Right now you had your mind set on confronting a certain Aesir.

It didn't even cross your mind that whoever left the lodge could have just been a random Aesir that likely didn't even know your name. But to your eyes only one person was missing from that room, and you would have noticed if he went down the stairs in the lodge, right?

Just in case, you kept one hand on the dagger attached to your hip. The one your mother gave you, since your father was far more detached from you when you were a child than he was with Atreus.

You shook the thought from your head. Now wasn't the time to reflect on your childhood. Things have changed. For better and for worse.

Slowly, you stalked through a smaller, narrower path connected to a larger one. It made you less likely to be seen by others, and right now you didn't need people being suspicious of you—far more than they already are—you'd add.

"Looking for me? I feel honoured." You turned around, finding Heimdall emerging from a gap between houses. It was just big enough for a person to make themselves comfortable between.

Not wasting any time, you asked, "What did you tell my brother?" You saw his lips turn upwards ever so slightly, but it was hard to make out his expressions when he was standing so far, in the shadows of the houses, caused by the moon's light.

"You caught onto that quick. Though," His arms raised, extending outwards, "I guess I shouldn't be so surprised. You're one of the smarter... Half-giants I've met. I mean it, really!" Could he answer your question any slower?

"I didn't ask if you think I'm smart. I asked you what the hel you told my brother." You saw his eyes roll. They were the only things that the darkness couldn't hide from you. Every second they glowed brightly.

"I only instructed him one thing..." Heimdall moved closer to you, stepping out of the dark and into the moonlight. Instinctively you pulled out your dagger, aiming it at him. He stopped moving, but by the look on his face, you doubted he was intimidated. "...that he stay away from you, or I'd hurt you in ways that he'd never imagine possible."

That didn't scare you, it may have you feeling a bit uneasy, but not scared. "Is that what you're here to do now? Hurt me?" "No. Something quite the opposite, actually. That is... If you comply." The hand holding your weapon to him didn't falter, not even as he took a step closer.

"You don't scare me, Heimdall." He took another step closer, you stood your ground, "That's exactly what draws me to you."

You scoffed, "My lack of fear for you?"

"That and the lack of consideration you put behind your actions. I mean, how many other people would put a weapon  between themselves and I?" The tone of his voice grew more playful, as if the current situation didn't stress him, "When they know damn well it cannot stop me." It was clear it did not.

And to you It became increasingly more clear that you were in a secluded area. Hidden from any and all eyes expect Heimdall's. No one was around. No one could help you. No one would hear you.

He led you here. So you were with him and him only.

You gripped your dagger harder, the muscles in your arm straining, your breathing growing heavier when he stepped even closer, "Try anything and I'll kill you." He stared at you, a frown on his face. And you silently regretted saying that when he didn't speak.

It was tense. Quiet. All Heimdall did was stare into your eyes. You didn't dare tear your gaze away from his.

After a moment, he scoffed, before breaking out into laughter. Moonlight bounced off his golden teeth as he continued laughing, making them shine. "Do you..." He calmed himself down, still smiling widely, "Really think... That you can kill me?" He tutted, eyebrows furrowing in a way that made him look like he was staring at you with pity. "Oh, sunshine... That will never, never happen."

You dashed toward him.

As soon as the last syllable rolled off his tongue, you moved forward. The muscles in your arm burned at the movement, but it was a relief. They were finally able to move after being suspended in the air for so long.

You aimed for his throat. Your mission was to kill him. He gripped your wrist, yanking you towards him before throwing you into a nearby building. Your head banged against the wall and you hissed in pain. Weapon long forgotten, lost somewhere on the ground when Heimdall threw you. Everything became blurry and you closed your eyes for a moment.

When you opened them, Heimdall was kneeling in front of you. "Have we learnt our lesson yet?" His head tilted to the side, eyes staring into your half-opened ones.

Clear your mind. The words of your father echoed through your head. Do not let your enemy know your thoughts.

"No." Your left hand reached up to grip his braids, your right hand punching his face.

He stumbled back, groaning, his hand reaching up to his now bleeding face. You took your chance and ran, heading for the lodge. You needed to find Atreus.

The path seemed a lot more confusing on the way back, or maybe it was your racing mind making it seem like that.

You could hear Heimdall's rushing footsteps growing louder and closer. They were far more quiet than yours, but you could still pick up on them.

Finally, you saw the lodge come into view, the lights on it glowing brightly—but there was one thing that worried you.

Heimdall's footsteps stopped.

But yours didn't. Your legs kept moving. They went even faster now. Just as you were in a meter or two of the lodge, a hand gripped your arm, pulling you behind a house and back into the darkness as a hand covered your mouth.

You squirmed in Heimdall's grip, biting, kicking and doing whatever to try and escape.

Your teeth bit deep into his palm and he gritted his own teeth. The hand around your midsection, holding your back to Heimdall's chest, squeezed tight until there was little air in your lungs.

This caused you to stop moving, your head spinning once more. You heard Heimdall 'tsk', "Now now... Is this any way to treat your lover?" He finally released his hand from your mouth, trusting and knowing you wouldn't scream.

"You're a deranged fuck if you think anyone could ever love you," Venom dripped from your words, "Especially... when you do... stupid shit like this..." The little air in your body slowly disappeared with each word.

Heimdall noticed your struggles, and despite your words, he loosened the grip on your waist. You took in large gasps of air while Heimdall began speaking.

"True. Though being loved is a hard thing to do or come across now." His hand on your torso moved further up until it reached your throat. It didn't do anything, it just lingered there. "So sometimes, you just need to do things like this."

"I wonder why it's so hard for you..." He didn't like your tone. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty time to find out. It's not like you're ever leaving."

Your eyes narrowed, staring at the wooden wall in front of you. Before you could speak, Heimdall did, "And you will be staying here, sunshine. Unless you wanted your brother to have a... Painful death."

"Touch him and I'll-" you choked on your words when he squeezed your throat, stopping your breathing again.

"I won't touch him if you agree to what I'm proposing." His hand let go so you could breath, "And we both know you can't defeat me. So your best option would be complying." Not even the slightest bit did you agree to what he wanted you to. You hated him. This only expanded that feeling.

But your brother...

You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if he died.

"I'll make your life a living nightmare." It wasn't a yes or a no, as much as you wanted to say the latter.

There was a warm feeling on your neck and you recognized it as Heimdall's breath, "Even better. I love a good challenge. Hard to find one when you're a god of my capabilities."

Everything he said made you want to roll your eyes or curl you lips in anger. The hate you had for him was unmatched. The anger that filled your body when near him made you feel like exploding.

"I hate you."

He chuckled and it sounded like what a snowstorm felt like. Cold.

"I know. But don't worry... in time, you'll learn to love me."

No. No, you definitely would not.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

I just saw a Zero to Hero buck edit on TikTok and i can’t help but think of Eddie’s first impression in Things We’re All Too Young To Know so I am craving more from that Universe lol ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

HELL YEAH!!! Love that you remembered that. It was important to me haha.

1k for TWATYTK!:

---

Eddie spends a minute sort of fuming before walking back into to the empty nursery, where Buck is still stewing over his laptop, comparing design ideas to their actual space. 

“How’d it go?” He asks when Eddie joins him. 

Eddie could get into it. He maybe should. This could very well impact Buck when Helena does come to meet her granddaughter. But his mother just lashed at an old wound. So Eddie reverts to an old defense mechanism. He avoids it. 

“She doesn’t need more than one grandparent, right?” Eddie jokes wryly instead. “Bobby is more than enough, I think.”

“In my experience he makes up for several absentees, yeah,” Buck says. “So, it went super well?”

“Oh, just great,” Eddie sighs. 

“Want to talk about it?” Buck asks.

And again… Eddie really should. 

“It’s not even worth talking about,” Eddie says. “I am far more interested in your nursery progress.”

Buck grins and turns the laptop screen towards him. 

“I think I’ve got a plan.”

🗲🗲🗲

Buck settles on green. 

Soft, easy greens. Nothing too vibrant. Like a forest on a summer day. Something that makes him think of the few things he does miss about Pennsylvania. 

It’s not just personal preference guiding his decisions, either. There are a lot of good reasons to surround his baby daughter with green. It’s pretty neutral. It doesn’t feel like shoving any sort of gendered expectation at her. And! It’s science-backed. Buck did some research into the human brain and color perception, and apparently green is the most relaxing color. It’s her bedroom. She should be relaxed! 

He gathers ideas of little leaf and blossom patterns he could stencil onto the walls and gets a palette together. 

“I think I could do interior design,” he tells Eddie when he finishes showing him. 

“This took you over a week to settle on,” Eddie reminds him. “I think actual designers have deadlines and clients to impress.”

“Okay, buzzkill,” Buck frowns. “Do you like the green?”

Eddie smirks. “I do like the green. What do we need to do?”

“Shopping trip on our next day off?” Buck asks. “We can get everything we need and slowly chip away at it?”

Eddie nods. “Sounds good to me.”

Buck grins. If their biggest issue between now and the baby being born was nursery colors, and he just solved it, he’s feeling pretty darn good.

☆☆☆

It’s one of their last calls before that day-off shopping trip. 

Honestly, it shouldn’t even be memorable. It’s the kind of call they get a lot. False alarm type scenarios from people who are scared. This time it’s a pre-teen claiming she set her house on fire. She didn’t. She burnt dinner and the smoke alarm went off. But Dispatch doesn’t know that obviously, and sends the 118 anyway. 

It brings Eddie right back to being a kid. Something he didn’t really need this week. 

The girl - maybe eleven - was home alone cooking breakfast for her little brother. Eggs. The eggs burnt in the pan, the smoke detector did its job, and one thing led to another. She called 9-1-1, frantic. When they arrive, she’s crying on the front lawn, arms wrapped around her little brother’s shoulders. 

By the time the 118 is ready to leave, the parents both show up. In individual cars. Bobby explains what happened, assured their kids are fine, and that the house is a little smoky, but otherwise okay. This should be a moment of relief. 

It is apparently not. 

The parents immediately burst into argument, riddled with accusations. 

“You should have been here, Sandra!”

“I asked you for one morning, John! One! You are never here!”

“One morning to get your nails done! I had a client meeting!”

“To get my nails done with my cousin I never see! And it’s Saturday! I was on Mom-duty all week!” 

Eddie has to walk away. He feels nauseated. 

“Those poor kids,” Hen exhales, seeing Eddie’s tense expression. 

“Yeah,” Eddie exhales. “Poor kids.”

🗲🗲🗲

Buck’s not going to say anything, but Eddie could use a bit of an attitude adjustment on the day they go shopping for nursery stuff. Like, okay. Buck gets it. Home Depot isn’t the most fun part of the excursion. Certainly not as fun as shopping for cute, soft baby stuff. Though, it’s not like either of them dislike this sort of thing. Buck’s pretty excited about shopping for paint under the right circumstances. And these are great circumstances! The best, even!

But Eddie is just sort of checked out before they even get in the truck. Short, clipped responses and empty stares. And, okay… Buck sort of gets it. He’s been taking over all the nursery planning entirely. Actually, all the planning. He took his clipboard mentality and steamrolled it and maybe he hasn’t given Eddie enough input. Maybe Eddie has been annoyed about this. Buck knows he can be annoying. It would be great, though, if maybe Eddie just said that. Instead of, what? Becoming completely disinterested in the process? They’re only doing this once, and Buck wants it to be memorable for both of them.

It all sort of comes to a head over paint chips.

“I think I like Salamander,” Buck says, holding a paper sample up for Eddie to see. “But should we go with something lighter? Like Cabbage Leaf?” 

And, yeah. Okay. It all sounds sort of silly. But the way Eddie sort of stares at the paint chips with dead eyes, like it couldn’t matter less? It makes Buck want to scream a little. 

“Or, you know…” Buck continues. Because he’s trying here. “There’s a more blue-green tone? Like Country Weekend?” 

“Whatever you like best, Buck,” Eddie says. 

Okay. Fuck not saying anything.

“Do you just not give a shit… Or?”

Eddie recoils a little like he’s been smacked. 

“What?” He demands. “Why the hell would you ask that?”

Oh, great. They’re arguing in front of the Behr Paint display.

“Because I’m trying to make this feel important and you aren’t giving me any energy back!” Buck sort of huffs.

[ladylynse]

A DP ficlet for @schwoopsiedoodles. The prompt was technically 'New Years' but, uh, that was more of a starting point than a focal point with this one.

Phantasmagoria [FFN | AO3]: At first blush, the new year seemed like it would start off normally enough, but Danny should really know better than to expect normal by now. Still, this was not what people usually meant when they talked about a new year yielding infinite possibilities.

-|-

“Happy New Year, little brother,” Jazz said as she wrapped Danny in a hug. Fireworks burst on the TV, some celebration they’d switched to just before midnight, but Jazz clearly didn’t think that was loud enough to cover her next words because she lowered her voice before adding, “We made it through another Christmas, and we made it through last year, so we’ll make it through this one, too.”

“Happy New Year, you two!” Maddie said as she joined them and turned the affair into a group hug, and then Jack was on the other side, wrapping them all in a bear hug, and Danny—

Danny was being squeezed too tightly from every side now, and he was getting hot enough and feeling trapped enough that not phasing out of everyone’s grip was more of an active decision than what should be the tangible default of remaining in place. Jazz’s hair was tickling his nose, but better the smell of her shampoo than the scent of ectoplasm from his parents’ HAZMAT suits that lingered despite the intense decontamination and washing protocols. He should say something, maybe force out a laugh or joke about Jazz not breaking into song like usual, but—

But maybe that was it.

Maybe that’s what was bugging him, why he wasn’t as happy as he should be even though he knew, objectively, that Jazz was right, that everything was as good as it ever was these days.

Jazz wasn’t singing Auld Lang Syne.

It shouldn’t bother him. It’s not like she had to sing it. She just always had; it was practically as much of a family tradition as the annual Christmas argument. She liked the song—she had for as long as he could remember—and Maddie would join in once she started. So would Jack, even though he couldn’t sing any better than he could aim.

So why skip it this year?

There was something niggling at the back of Danny’s mind, a sort of awareness that came slowly, creeping over his skin and making it crawl in the process.

He didn’t feel hot any longer, but the feeling of being trapped definitely hadn’t gone away.

Maybe that was a good thing.

That meant that whoever was doing this to him didn’t know he’d realized something was off.

This didn’t feel like the Ghost Writer. Even if he’d mercifully decided to weave his stories into reality without rhyme, Danny doubted he’d give up the background narration entirely. He liked being in control of the narrative too much.

Danny wasn’t ruling out this being a dream, though, or some other happy simulation designed to keep him under, to keep him from questioning it. Things hadn’t worked out last time when he’d been dreaming of his friends, so if this was round two of ‘keep Phantom out of things by keeping him asleep’, shifting the narrative to his family might make a sick sort of sense. It would make more sense than an attempted reality rewrite from someone like Desiree—or someone armed with something like the Reality Gauntlet.

This was too personal for that kind of thing.

“Uh, Dad?” Danny finally tried. “You can let go now.”

“I’ll never let you go,” came the response, but it wasn’t Jack’s voice, it was Sam’s, and he was smelling her shampoo now, not Jazz’s, and Tucker was sandwiching Danny between him and Sam, and—

Shouldn’t he feel sick after a transition like that? After a lack of transition like that? This was a dream, but if Nocturn or whoever it was was trying to keep him down, wouldn’t they at least make him a little dizzy? It all might have felt seamless, a shift occurring between one blink and the next, but the whiplash between what is and what was—

“Dude,” said Tucker as he released Danny and stepped back, letting Danny see that not only was he no longer in his living room but he was also no longer in his house. They were in Sam’s room, and it was decorated the same as always; nothing seemed out of place at a glance.

Then again, if this was a dream, and he thought he knew how everything looked, would anything feel out of place when he was the one imagining it in the place it was now?

This was making his head hurt.

It just didn’t hurt enough to wake him up and snap him out of this, which was annoying.

Tucker was biting his lip, but his words burst out of him a split second later. “I know this is kinda a stupid question considering everything, but are you okay?”

He really wasn’t, but fine, Danny could play along. That was easier now that Sam had let him go at Tucker’s words, which had the unnerving effect of lessening his feeling of being trapped even though he knew he was still very much trapped.

But if the shock of the transition wasn’t enough to snap him out of it, and the shock of realizing what was going on wasn’t enough, what would be?

“I’m fine,” Danny said, and Sam promptly punched Tucker in the arm, who yelped.

“What was that for?”

“Asking a stupid question,” she ground out, “that made Danny feel like he had to lie to us and say he’s fine when he’s not.” Her gaze flicked to him. “What Tucker means is that it’s okay that you’re not okay yet, but we’re going to be here for you for as long as you need us.”

Wait.

What?

Tucker blew out his breath in something that wasn’t exasperation or a sigh but something else, something closer to…regret? Jazz would do that sometimes—she said it helped her to centre herself and get her thoughts in order—but had he ever heard Tucker do it?

“Sorry,” Tuck said. “I didn’t mean are you okay okay, because obviously this being a new year doesn’t mean what happened a couple weeks ago didn’t happen. I meant it more as a sort of ‘are you okay because you suddenly seem less okay than you were ten seconds ago’ and I wanted to know if it was something I did. Or Sam!” Tucker’s eyes flicked to Sam as he quickly added, “Please don’t hit me again. That really hurts.”

Coldness pooled in Danny’s stomach again, spreading outward and freezing his lungs. It was harder than it should be to repeat, “A couple weeks ago?”

Tucker’s laugh was a little too high not to be full of nerves. “Or, like, last week, with the funerals. And Vlad.” Sam’s foot shot towards Tucker’s leg, but he was already dancing back in anticipation. “He asked!”

“What about Vlad?” Danny pressed.

Sam stopped her attack on Tucker and frowned. “What do you mean, what about Vlad?”

“See?” Tucker flung out an arm towards Danny. “That’s why I asked if he was okay!”

Sam scowled at him, but it melted away when she turned back to Danny. “Okay, I get that it probably doesn’t feel worse than what he was always trying to do, but the paperwork’s that much closer to being official now, and I just…. I don’t want to lose you. We don’t want to lose you. And if we can’t figure out some way around this….”

“We will,” said Dani’s voice from behind him.

Danny jumped before spinning to face her, the what? spilling from his lips before he could think twice about it. Danielle was in her human form but in a black T-shirt and shorts he didn’t recognize, and—

And that wasn’t all he didn’t recognize.

A far cry from Sam’s bedroom, this place was basically a white box, sharp clean lines and maybe twice the size of his bedroom back home. Not small, but not necessarily big, considering it didn’t have windows or a visible door or, well, anything.

Anything, he realized as he looked around again, except some poorly hidden cameras.

Crud.

Maybe he didn’t have to recognize this place to know where he was.

Danielle was ignoring the cameras, apparently. She must’ve seen them—Vlad had trained her and he wasn’t incompetent in that, Danny was pretty sure—but she wasn’t looking at them. “We’ll get out of here,” she said. Repeated, presumably. “I can’t tell you how, obviously, but we will.”

Danny walked over to the nearest wall, turned his hand intangible, and promptly failed to stick it through the wall.

He wasn’t surprised, considering he’d dreamed himself up what must be some luxury cell courtesy of the Guys in White, but it was really disappointing to confirm that he was aware that he was dreaming but couldn’t control it.

(This had to be a dream. Nothing except dream made sense.)

“If you keep doing that, they’re going to separate us.”

“No,” Danny said with an assurance that better suited Jazz than him as he studied the wall for what seemed to be nonexistent flaws, “they wouldn’t have risked putting us together if they didn’t want something.”

“Yeah, and giving it to them would be bad. Got that. Hence the whole ‘not telling you how we’ll get out of here’ thing.”

“Except even that tells them something.” He turned back to Dani. “It tells them you have a plan.”

“Or it tells them I want them to think I have a plan.”

“Which is still technically a plan. It’s just a poorer plan.”

“Like you’re an expert on plans.” Danny snorted, conceding her point, so Danielle continued, “All that really matters is they’re guessing. Which they are. Because they don’t know us. Not well enough, anyway. It’s going to be their downfall.”

“I hope you’re right,” he murmured.

“Of course I’m right. I’m me. Besides, I’m not spending my entire birthday locked in here.”

Danny didn’t bother to verbalize the look he sent her; even someone as dense as the GiW agents he’d run into in Amity Park would be able to interpret his confusion.

Dani rolled her eyes at him. “Fine, my chosen birthday. New year, new me. Everyone else can have resolutions. I want cake.”

Danny grinned. “Cake would—”

Alarms swallowed the rest of his words.

He jolted awake, fumbling without opening his eyes for the whatever-it-was that was making that racket so he could make it stop, and it took a precious few seconds to blink awake and remember and scramble to make sure there were no remnants of any ghostly tampering.

Nothing, as far as he could tell.

No helmet, no dust, no goo, nothing new or out of place. He was still in bed, but he was awake. The beeping had stopped by now, so maybe he had imagined it? Maybe it had simply been the last bit of a dream before it had woken him up?

Danny crawled out from under the covers so he could take a peek out the window, and he winced at the glowing green eyes of his reflection before blinking them back to blue. He really had been on edge if his powers were this close to the surface. Maybe he should head downstairs for some water and—

There was someone sitting on the roof across the street.

They were looking in his direction.

They’d probably been looking in his direction the whole time.

That wasn’t as bad as it could be, considering the things that could be explained away because this was the Fenton household, except that Danny knew the silhouette of that particular someone.

It would explain the beeping, too, though he’d never realized it was that loud.

Against his better judgement, Danny opened his bedroom window. It wasn’t particularly cold out—Jazz probably had her bedroom window cracked right now—so it wasn’t like he had to break through a seal of ice to get it open. The main reason he kept his window shut was to discourage ghosts from popping in on him, and that only worked with the polite ones. Still, mild weather or not, he hadn’t been woken by his ghost sense.

“Valerie?”

She heard him, or maybe she just saw the window opening, but either way, she called up her sled and slid almost silently through the air until she was less than three feet from him. Her visor wasn’t shielding her face, and her arms were crossed, which he was hoping to take as a good thing and not a bad thing. “How long?”

“How long what?” Even as he asked it, he realized what she must mean. Oops. She’d heard him after all. “Sorry. From the beginning. Like, the beginning beginning, not just since Technus gave you your new suit.”

Something in her expression tightened. “Please just be straight with me.”

“What? I am!”

“No, I mean—” She broke off with a frustrated growl. “Look. If you answer my questions, we can leave the past in the past. Start fresh. New chapters and all that. But if you insist on playing dumb, I have no reason to trust you—or give you the benefit of the doubt. So how long?”

“I don’t—”

“How long, Phantom?”

Oh.

“Could you, um, be a little more specific than that?”

He was waiting for the dream to shift on him again.

It didn’t.

As Valerie’s frown deepened, he realized that maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he really had woken up. “Please?” It never hurt to be polite. In theory.

“How long has this been going on?”

She was still watching him, but there was a catch in her voice that hadn’t been there before, and it seemed real enough.

Of course, everything else had seemed real, too.

If this were a dream, his response wouldn’t matter. His response might even shift him somewhere else entirely. If this were really Valerie, though? This Valerie looked lost and was doing a poor job of hiding it behind a show of familiar anger. This Valerie—

“And how long,” she croaked, her composure crumpling entirely as her voice cracked, “is this going to keep going on?”

Wait.

“I don’t want to do this again.”

The dream—not-dream, whatever this was—did not conveniently remove him from the conversation.

“Don’t want to do what again?” he asked, even though he suspected he already knew the answer.

“I can’t keep jumping through possibilities.” The words were soft, more of a reluctant admission than anything else. “If this is you, stop it. It’s cruel even if you don’t think it is, and you always insist that you’re the good guy anyway. If it’s not you….” She swallowed. “Help me. Please. Even if you’re not my friend, be my ally. I— Our truce doesn’t have to end when this is over.”

She sounded like she meant it.

Maybe he should hope this wasn’t a dream after all, if only so he didn’t have to worry about having Valerie on his back all the time.

Then again.

If this wasn’t a dream, she’d be spitting distance from his secret even if she thought Phantom—in a feat of spectacular stupidity—was currently overshadowing Danny while under the same roof as the people who hunted him down at every opportunity.

If she were being honest about what might be an indefinite truce, though, that might not be a bad thing.

Danny wouldn’t say this in Sam’s hearing, but Valerie was a better shot than her, and having Val back him up from time to time would be beneficial in more ways than him not having to worry about her taking a shot at him.

“Indefinite truce if we get out of this alive?” he asked, offering her his hand.

She didn’t look amused at his choice of words, but she swallowed whatever scathing insult she’d wanted to spit at him and shook his hand instead.

“Great,” he said. “Meet me on the roof? I should really change for this.”

That earned him an eyeroll, but she grumbled, “Fine.”

He really did change before following her, first out of his PJs and into clothes and then transforming into Phantom, but she was waiting for him on the Ops Centre without a blaster, so that was a win.

“Thanks,” he said, even though he hadn’t really thought she’d fire at him right after being the one to call a truce. “And—please don’t shoot the questioner—can you elaborate on the whole ‘can’t keep jumping through possibilities’ thing?”

She sighed and sat down, hugging her knees and looking out at the horizon instead of at him. “It means exactly what it sounds like. Sometimes it takes longer for the shift to happen, but whenever it does, I’m somewhere else, in a new situation, and most of them aren’t pleasant.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Case in point, finding you where I found you, because I don’t have to be a genius to figure out what’s going on there.”

Danny winced, and not just because his parents were proof that geniuses could be astoundingly blind when they weren’t looking for something. He didn’t want to get into what Valerie thought now, though. They had more important things to talk about. “I’ve been doing the same thing. The shifting between situations like it’s a dream thing.”

“If you’re going through the same thing, then which of us is dreaming?”

If Nocturn or someone like him was involved, it wasn’t necessarily one or the other. They could both be dreaming.

Or this could be something else entirely and neither of them were dreaming, since Danny wasn’t sure why Nocturn would want them both to be aware that they were dreaming when that meant they’d be actively trying to snap out of it.

Still, better that they were dreaming than some something horrendously damaging and somehow unforeseen had happened to the timeline and they were dropping through alternate realities like they were tissue paper faster than Clockwork could sort it out.

“Beats me,” Danny said, offering Valerie a grin in the hopes that it would cheer her up. He held out a hand, and she took it and let him pull her up. “Let’s find out.”

(see more fics | check out the awesome fanart for this fic)

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 9 Sneak Peek

As it turned out, you and Neuvillette didn’t go on your honeymoon tomorrow. Apparently, there was some sort of sudden judicial matter that desperately needed his attention. You lost count of how many times he apologized to you.

Which was just as well, since going on a trip—even if it was only for a day—on such short notice was absurd and unrealistic. Perhaps it was a testament to just how unsettled Neuvillette was by whatever he talked about with Furina that he suggested it in the first place.

Your initial excitement had cooled down slightly, replaced with calm rationality.

To be honest, you were unsure why he cared so much. From what you could garner (Neuvillette still refused to tell you exactly what his argument with Furina was about), it wasn’t as though she had explicitly ordered him to go on a honeymoon. Besides, having a honeymoon was a requirement for marriage. You knew plenty of couples back home who didn’t have one. Even your own parents simply went back to your father’s house and started living together after they got married.

You told Neuvillette about those things in an effort to take the pressure off him, but it backfired. He seemed even more determined to make this “honeymoon”-slash-“date” happen than before.

“But you looked so excited when I brought the subject up. You’ve rarely travelled before, have you?” he had said, and for some reason, you couldn’t argue.

It was times like these that made you wonder. From the time you got married—no, all the way back to when you first met—you had always assumed that he acted the way he did towards you out of a sense of gentlemanly conduct. It was something you admired. How many self-proclaimed gentlemen have you met until now? They should all model themselves after Neuvillette.

But it was all the things he did, like buying you the painting set even though you had never asked him for it or hanging up your painting in his office, that made you wonder something that was perhaps a little impertinent: was Neuvillette secretly very sentimental?

That makes sense, you thought, nodding to yourself as you inspected the sunflower plants. They had now reached the middle of your calf, and there were small, tender leaves growing from the stalks.

Neuvillette seemed like the type of person who enjoyed doting on something. No, you were sure he was. You had seen how he acted with the Melusines—he was like a proud father. But on the other hand, Melusines weren’t like pets you could take care of and leave at home. They were full-fledged citizens of Fontaine with their own lives.

But with humans, he was cordial but distant due to his strict personal morals. You sensed that, however, that it didn’t mean he actively disliked interacting with them. It didn’t help that his position and demeanor intimidated people and made them stay at a respectful distance. So, basically, it was a relationship where both parties mutually stayed away from each other, even though the desire was there to get closer.

“He should get a pet or something…” you muttered to yourself.

“Who should get a pet?” a voice asked from behind you. It was Neuvillette.

“I was just thinking that you should get a pet,” you stood up and turned around. “I think you would make a good pet owner.”

 Neuvillette raised an eyebrow. “What brought this on?”

“Oh, I was just thinking,” you said innocently. “Have you ever had a pet before? Or considered getting one?”

“No to both questions, I’m afraid,” Neuvillette said. “My job keeps me too busy to spend much time with them, and truthfully, I prefer observing animals in their natural habitats rather thuan transplanting them to an environment that might not suit them.”

“I see,” you nodded. It was just the answer you would expect from him. “But, I still think that you would be a great owner. You’re so caring and considerate, after all. I’m sure any pet of yours would be lucky to be yours.”

Neuvillette was silent for a moment, like he was thinking over your words. “Then, what would you suggest I should get as a pet, in the hypothetical scenario that I decide to get one?” he suddenly asked, turning to you.

You considered it for a moment. Your first thought was some kind of aquatic creature, like a fish, but you quickly eliminated that choice. Neuvillette wouldn’t like to have a pet that was trapped in confined spaces, and besides…you glanced at his hands, remembering all the times you saw him pat the Melusines’ heads. He would like something he could pet and cuddle. The mental image of Neuvillette cuddling with a fluffy creature made you smile. Yes, definitely something fluffy. A dog would be too high maintenance for him, perhaps a cat? Or a hamster, or a rabbit…

You told Neuvillette about your thoughts. “Think about how relaxing it would be to run your fingers through your cat’s soft fur after a long day at work,” you ended. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It does sound pleasant,” Neuvillette said as he gazed at the sunflower shoots, then looked at you for a few moments as though considering something. “But I think I’ve already experienced something similar to that.”

“What are you implying, hm?” you glared up at him. Lately, Neuvillette seemed to have taken a liking to teasing you. Normally, you didn’t really tolerate being poked fun at by people outside your immediate friends and family (although, come to think of it, Neuvillette was technically your family now), but from him, you didn’t mind all that much. Maybe it was the novelty of it.

“Nothing, Madame. Nothing at all.”

For a few minutes, you two were silent. But it was the warm kind of silence where the people involved simply indulged in each other’s presence.

“So…” you cleared your throat. “Has the date for our honeymoon been set yet? You can at least tell me that, and where we’re going, can’t you?”

You gave him a meaningful look. His argument with Furina had been on your mind for the past few days. Now that you knew that you were involved, you had to know what it was about. You initially bugged him about it, but eventually stopped when he kept repeating, “It is better for you not to know.”

Of course, you had no intention to drop it completely. You simply had to wait for the right moment to bring it up again.

From where you were standing, Neuvillette’s bangs hid his face, but you could have sworn that you saw a small smile on his lips. “I’ll tell you after dinner.”