#And whatever you get outta that is your problem my friend

[helshollowhalls]

tumblr doesn't have an algorithm, tumblr has three frogs and a yak beating each other over the heads with printers

[loveindefinitely]

01 — 𝘎𝘖 𝘈𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘊𝘙𝘠, 𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘛𝘓𝘌 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓

༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, virgin reader, corruption kink, slight power imbalance, praise, degradation, light dom/sub, slight daddy kink, oral, vaginal sex, your father's a dick, very minor soapghost, aftercare

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

Stay in your room, your father had said. Don't bother us tonight, your father had said. They are dangerous men that do dangerous things, your father had said.

Yet, here you were, standing at the bottom step of the stairwell, hiding behind the wall adjoined to the living room, listening in to the men on the other side.

You were bored out of your brains. It was a Friday night, and like hell was your over-protective father going to let you go out or party. And the fact that he wouldn't even introduce you to his only friends? Or let you leave your fucking room?

It had left you pissed off to no end, so.

Here you were.

"Bloody close," you hear a voice grunt, deep and gravelly. It sends heat to your stomach immediately, and it's almost embarrassing.

You hear the sound of a hand slapping a shoulder, and the bark of a laugh. "Aye, still got the cash you're gonna owe me?" This voice has a -- Irish? Scottish, maybe? -- lilt to it, humour and kindness embedded into its layers.

"He'll find a way outta paying," a third voice chimes, laughter in its tone.

Someone else clears their throat. "You're all gonna get yourselves indebted to each other at this rate," a fourth voice says, sounding almost resigned.

"You all need to shut the fuck up before she sticks her nose down 'ere."

Your spine straightens, and fury simmers in your blood. Did he have to be such an asshole? Why was your father so... so anti your existence? Why was he so ashamed of you, yet so overbeating?

"She's not a kid anymore, you really oughtta to lay off," the man with the scottish accent says, slightly stern in his delivery.

"If you met her, you'd understand how fuckin' annoying she is. Always wants me to deal with her emotions, as if they're my fuckin' problem," your father replies venomously. Your stomach has dropped to your feet, you're sure of it.

There's a low whistle in response, and a silence settles behind the wall. An unsettling one, full of animosity. The fact that you can tell that from behind the wall says a lot.

"I'm gonna go out and get some drinks. Maybe some dinner. Needa get out of this fuckin' house for a bit," your father says with a grunt, sounding like he's gotten up from the couch. "Call if you lot need anythin' while I'm out."

A few grunts of agreement, and after a few seconds, the front door opens and slams shut.

You let out a small breath of tense relief, eyes fluttering shut as you deeply exhale. The immediate relief of having your father out of the house is immense.

"I feel bad for her," you hear the third man speak, voice quiet and low. "You hear how he speaks about her -- what's he like with her?"

"Gaz, whatever you're thinkin', drop it," the first speaker grits out, impatient and tight.

"He's right," the scottish one says with a huff, "Poor kid. She's legal and he isn't letting her out on a Friday night? 'Nd he fuckin' wonders why she's upset."

"He must have his... reasons," the fatherly voice of the fourth speaker says, although his tone says otherwise.

You swallow, slowly creeping off of the bottom step and onto the wooden floors. Front pressed to the wall, you move just the slightest bit, to allow yourself a small peak into the loungeroom.

There are four men, like you'd expected, and they're...

They're big. There's no other word that comes to mind, except for big. Tall, broad, packed with muscle. Military-grade men.

Your mouth is suddenly parched of any moisture, and your brain turns to putty.

Selfishly, stupidly, you spend another dangerous moment to admire the four. The couch curves, the four of them seated on it, facing the TV hung on the wall. They're backs are to you.

Or.

One second, they're all blissfully turned the other way, and in the next, one's head turns, and deep brown eyes meet yours.

Your eyes go wide, and you immediately dart for the stairs, heart in your throat.

Rushing up, trying to stay quiet but still hurrying, you make it to your room in record time. You shut the door behind you, chest tight and breaths harried as your back presses to the wood.

Stupid, stupid girl, you think.

They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.

That's what your father had said, wasn't it? So what were you thinking, risking a look? For what purpose?

Then, there's a knock on your door.

Your eyes go impossibly wide, and your lips purse together as you slowly move away from the door. With one breath, you train your face into a pleasant, kind smile as you slowly open the door, only allowing a bit of your room to be shown.

"You're his daughter, ain't ya?"

You have to crane your neck, eyes going up, and up, and up, until you meet the man's eyes.

The skull balaclava shouldn't cause your face to heat, or your breaths to quicken, but they do.

"I -- um, yes, I'm really sorry for eavesdropping," you mumble, eyes flitting to the floor and hand squeezing the door in an anxious gesture.

A hand grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to meet the man's chocolate eyes once more. They're imploring, impossibly so, and your thighs squeeze together against your better judgement.

"Come watch the game with us," he says, and although the sentence isn't a demand, it feels like one.

So, like the good girl you are, you nod, his grip loosening as you do.

You forget that you're in your tiniest sleep shorts and your thinnest tank top as you follow him down the stairs, his large hand resting on your lower back.

This was the most touch you'd ever felt from a man that wasn't in a familial way, and your nerve-endings feel like they've been electrocuted.

Whatever conversation that was happening silences as soon as the two of you walk into the lounge room, your hands squeezing each other painfully tight.

Your anxiety was warranted in this situation, wasn't it? Surely, it was okay to be scared of four men whom you'd never met.

Four sets of eyes are trained to your body, and there's a slight tremble in your hands as you sit in the spot balaclava had gestured towards.

It seats you in the middle of the four of them, and your heart beats impossibly faster as you settle into the leather, feeling so small in comparison to the men surrounding you.

It's a new, albeit not entirely terrible, feeling.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" The man furthest to your left asks, and when you meet his eyes, they're warm and kind. His lower face is mostly covered in a beard, and he's wearing a light brown hat.

You bite at your inner cheek, gaze flicking back to your thighs as you weakly say your name.

Their gazes burn your skin, like a living force, and your hands form nervous fists in your lap. The warm yellow light of the living room lamp creates a warm, safe ambience that doesn't exactly fit the emotions swirling inside of you.

You flinch only slightly when a warm hand moves to rest on your knee, the thumb rubbing comforting circles on it that ease your tight muscles slightly.

When you look to the owner of the hand, it's to see a warm grin and a faux mohawk.

"You're so tense, lass," he says, his mouth quirking into a knowing smirk. "We don't bite."

"Don't speak for all of us, Soap," the man sitting on your close left says with a charming grin, his eyes meeting yours when you turn to him. "I'll ask nicely, love, don't worry."

You nod, slowly, in some sort of trance. This entire situation doesn't feel entirely real, more like a figment of your deepest desires.

Ones you've never let yourself think about, except for the darkest of nights and the dirtiest of feelings.

"Don't scare the girl," the man with the balaclava says, eyes narrowing on the two men beside you.

"Says the one with the fuckin' mask, ya weirdo," the scottish one says with a scoff of a chuckle. Your mouth pulls into a soft grin without you realising, and the hand on your knee tightens ever so slightly.

"I'm Price," the man who you've deemed the most sensible of the group says with a warm smile. His head gestures to each of the other three men respectively. "That's Gaz, Soap, and Ghost."

You can't say that you're all too familiar with the names, nor how...different they are, but you nod nonetheless, reserving the names in your memory.

"Father dearest never talked about us?" Gaz asks, eyebrows softly furrowing in question.

You shake your head, almost apologetic in the movement. "He doesn't like to tell me much, he's, ah... private."

There's a few returning grunts of understanding, and they settle your nerves just a little bit more. For men of their size, they were surprisingly good at keeping you feeling safe and comfortable.

"What're you doin' all alone on a Friday night? Pretty young thing like you, 'nd you're not at a club? A date?" Soap asks, and if you notice that he's moved just the slightest bit closer to you, you don't say a word.

You feel your face heat, and you murmur out your reply. "Never been to either," you admit, pulling at a thread in your sleep shorts with nervous jerks.

Ghost settles further into his chair, legs spread in an almost dominant way. "Surely you've at least had your first kiss?"

If you could get anymore embarrassed, you're sure you'll combust on the spot.

You softly shake your head.

"Aw, love, you're adorable," Gaz says, a hint of a smirk on his features. His dark eyes glimmer in the light, and you lick your bottom lip to wet it.

Price's arms rest on his knees, and his eyes seem trained on you, debating some sort of inner conflict, before they firm with some kind of resolution. "Y'know, we've been training rookies lately," he states, but with a knowing undertone that everyone in the room seems to pick up on except for you.

"That we have," Ghost says, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he nods in agreement with Price.

"How about we train you, bonnie?" Soap asks, his hand moving just the slightest bit higher on your thigh.

You swallow, mouth dry.

"Um. Like, train me... how?" You ask, although there's some part of your brain that knows all too well what area they're thinking of.

Gaz's hand moves to sit at the nape of your neck, stroking in soothing movements that leave your eyes half-closed and glassy. "How about I show you how to kiss, love?"

Your stomach hollows, and your chest rises and falls in heavy beats. Nervously looking around the room, you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod shortly.

Soap's hand tightens around your thigh, a barely hidden warning. "Words, baby, or you're goin' back to your room."

The threat instantly has words flying out of your mouth. "Yes. Please. Just... be gentle?"

All four men seem to huff a laugh at that, but Gaz nods, dimples showing as his smirk deepens. "I can do that."

He pulls you in, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours.

The feeling leaves you entirely dazed, your nervous system alighting with signals as your thoughts seem to pause, if only for a second. It's nothing like you'd expected, and butterflies erupt in your lower stomach.

He pulls away, not having breached your mouth, and you must look as out of it as you feel because he laughs.

"That good, love?" He asks, teasing and entirely prideful.

You nod, a bit too fast and enthusiastic, before his hand pulls away from your nape. The loss is mourned, briefly, before your attention pulls away from Gaz and instead to Soap.

"Gotta learn from all of us," is all he says, before his lips crush against your own. Where Gaz was tentative and soft, Soap is all energy and desperation.

His hand squeezes your thigh, and when it had moved from your knee to pushing against your tiny shorts, you haven't an idea.

You can't find it in yourself to care, with his relentless attack on your mouth, your lips, your mind.

When he pulls away, you realise it's because Ghost's moved to stand, and his hand is in a tight fist in Soap's hair, pulling his face away from yours.

"Actin' like a fuckin' mutt," Ghost mutters, tone laced with vitriol. It's degrading, and yet Soap doesn't seem phased in the slightest.

You're about to inquire about that when your attention's caught by Price, his knees spread and patting his thigh. "C'mere, sweetheart," he says, and like a dog on a leash, you do.

His unbelievably large hands grab your hips as he seats you in his lap, and with how he's got his legs spread, it forces you to sit over his groin.

It's a compromising position, and the heat that rushes to your core is an entirely unknown feeling.

He doesn't move his hands from your body as his eyes devour it, before they meet your gaze with a warmth to them that has you shivering.

"Show me what the boys have taught you, hm?" He says, and with shut eyes and a stiff movement, you press your lips to his.

He groans, pleased, his thumbs rubbing circles where your skin's been revealed by your tank top. No one's ever touched you there, not in this way, and it has your pussy wet.

When he pulls away, he licks at his lips, as if he's devouring your taste.

"You're so pretty, sweetheart, mm? No wonder your father's got you all locked up," he says, and the reminder of the source of your anger has you wanting to do entirely too reckless things.

Like kissing the four men he warned you about.

Like doing more, maybe.

...Maybe.

His hands force your hips down, and you let out a small whimper when your clit presses against his belt buckle, the action sending pleasure shooting up your spine.

He raises a brow, catching the change in expression and your small sound. "What's wrong, pretty?"

And then, he pulls you down again, deeper this time, and the movement has your breath hitching, core burning with need.

"Oh, you naughty little girl," he says, and the words have your mind turning into some sort of mouldable clay, entirely able to be controlled by whatever these men wanted to make of it. "So needy, ain't ya?"

Someone presses against you from behind, and a belt buckle presses against your lower back.

"My turn to feel those lips, innit?" Ghost says from behind, leaning down to whisper his next words next to your ear. "See what all the fuss 's about."

The idea that you're being passed around, like you're some kind of... of whore has you entirely speechless in the most positive of ways.

You feel filthy, and you love it.

Leaning your head back, you manage to make eye contact with the large man, before his lips press to yours, upside down.

He devours, all encompassing, his tongue slipping into yours without any hesitance. You're clumsy, unsure, but he makes up for it with experience and dominance. The entire act has you woozy, needy for more of them, more of their touch.

You don't expect for Price to start forcibly rotating your hips, forcing you to grind against his lap, but it forces a moan from your mouth, the sound getting devoured by Ghost's overpowering tongue.

"Who knew she'd be such a desperate slut?" Gaz asks, as if you're not there, as if you're just something to be observed. It causes another moan to leave your mouth, and Ghost detaches himself from you with a grunt of his own.

"Think she liked that," Soap says, amused and proud, in a strange sort of way. "Wanna be used, baby? Taken by men nearly twice your age?"

"Yes," you say, on a groan as Price's motions speed up, the pleasure so new and different and good.

Then, he stops, and a whine comes out of you before you can stop it.

Price makes a condescending noise in response. "Poor babygirl needs all the attention, hey? Needs her little pussy played with?"

"She looks like a goddamn mess, cap," Gaz says, his hand coming up to rest on your head. He gives comforting pats, not unlike one would with an obedient puppy.

Ghost's hands come around your waist, and before you even process what he's doing, he rips your sleep shorts in half, leaving you completely bare.

"Didn't think to wear panties, dumb girl?" Ghost asks with an appreciative groan, his large hand cupping your now exposed pussy.

With a whimper, you shake your head, your eyes squeezed shut at the embarrassment and nudity. No one had ever seen it before, and now, four of your father's friends were getting an eyeful.

"Lemme see if she's nice 'n wet for us," Soap murmurs, picking you up from Price's lap in a princess carry.

It doesn't even last two seconds before he's splaying you over the now empty couch, your hands pathetically covering your most private of areas.

"None of that, sweetheart," Price says with a 'tsk', grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to the couch above your head, leaving you effectively defenceless to the men.

Soap's hand moves down your stomach, before he pauses for just a moment. "This okay, baby?"

You nod, because yes, this is most definitely okay.

Gaz gives you a stern look, so you quickly fix your mistake. "I -- yes, sir, it's okay."

There's a surrounding sound of approval, and Soap smirks from where he stands beside your hips. "Sir, aye? Like the sound of that."

With that, his finger slides down your pussy, and your eyes shut with a soft moan. His hands are rough, scarred, calloused from years of work on the field, and they're so much larger than your own.

"Think she likes it, sir," Ghost says, taunting Soap, whose eyes are completely transfixed on your glistening pussy.

"Not the only one," Price says with an approving murmur, his hand tightening around your wrists. The sense of powerlessness has you aching with desire.

Soap's finger continues to rub against your slit, not breaching your entrance, instead continuing to tease and amplify his touch. Your eyes are shut, too embarrassed to look at the mess you're likely causing on the fabric, and too nervous to see the expression on the men's faces.

"Do you play with your lil cunt often, princess?" Ghost says, voice darkened with lust.

Your face feels like it's burning, but you nod. "Sometimes. I -- ah," you break off with a moan as Soap's thumb presses against your swollen clit.

"Be a good girl and answer when spoken to, love," Gaz says with a sound of disappointment that has you aching to amend your mistake.

"I'm sorry, sir, I, yes. Sometimes 'm just needing to, um, y'know..." You trail off, trying to preserve any amounts of dignity you had left. You were aware that masturbation was normal, but you'd never discussed it with a single soul, and talking about it felt like laying your soul bare.

Price's other hand moves to gently brush your hair from your face, the gesture so at odds with Soap's sensual movements.

You're about to say something, what, you aren't exactly sure, when Soap's finger roughly enters your soaked pussy. A loud whimper escapes your lips at the sudden intrusion, and the sheer size difference of his finger compared to your own.

"Aww, baby, it's alright," Soap coos, and it's so fucking condescending. It's cruel, almost, as if you're so dumb that you can't even form your own thoughts.

Which is, honestly, more true than you're willing to admit.

"'Atta girl," Ghost groans when your whimpers only increase with every thrust of Soap's finger.

Gaz's hand moves down to replace Soap's thumb on your clit, using the pads of his fingers to roughly circle around it. That sensation, mixed with Soap's intrusion, has your back arching slightly from the couch.

"Think she's close, Cap," Gaz says, conversationally, again treating you like you're not entirely capable of voicing your own feelings or thoughts.

"Mm, that right, sweetheart? Close already?" Price echoes, the hand not around your wrists going to squish your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker. "What a pathetic girl, hm?"

Those words, those demeaning, humiliating words, only stoke the fire in your stomach, and your eyes burn with unshed tears as you shakily nod.

As soon as you do, however, Gaz pulls away, and Soap's finger leaves your pussy entirely. You groan, eyes opening slightly to see what could've possibly caused them to stop.

"You look so upset, baby," Soap laughs, and his smile is no longer the jovial one it had been mere minutes before -- no, it's been replaced with something much more predatory, something much more dangerous.

Dangerous men.

Ghost moves, then, moving your legs with much more care than you'd expected from the large man, before moving to kneel at the end of the couch where your legs had been. Hooking your knees over his shoulder, he effectively folds you in half.

"W-what are you doing?" You ask, almost frantic, utterly confused at your current state.

He leans down, hooking his balaclava over the tip of his nose, before there's searing wet heat at your core, causing you to throw your head back with a loud moan.

Gaz chuckles, "So dirty, love. Like having the big bad Ghost with his head between your legs, huh? Like having the attention of men with blood on their hands?"

Oh, and the confirmation -- the proper, hard proof, that they killed, that they truly were as dangerous as your father had said --

"Yes, fuck, please, oh my god," you ramble, almost incoherent with your words as you body trembles with the feeling of a mouth at your pussy. "Jesus, don't stop."

You can hear laughter around you, some words being passed between the men, but your focus is entirely on the tongue dipping into your folds, licking at your essence like a man starved. Like you're his only salvation.

Soap's hand is in Ghost's hair, a complete parallel to the kiss the two of you had shared, and he's pushing Ghost further against you, manhandling him like a toy for you to grind against, for you to take advantage of.

"I'm gonna, oh, please, I'm close," you cry out, eyes squeezed shut yet again as Ghost's ministrations only double in enthusiasm.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over his face? Go on, ride it, there we go," Price eggs you on, his hand patting down your hair, massaging at your scalp as you lose yourself to the pleasure of it all.

You cum with a desperate keen, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you ride out the high, embracing this moment for the beauty it is.

It doesn't hit you, not at first, the full extent of your actions.

Ghost pulls away after your whimpers turn into ones of overstimulation, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, your twitching pussy, and then your inner knee as he carefully sets your legs back down on the couch.

"Such a good girl, aye?" Soap asks, rubbing at your tense calves with expert strokes and pressure. "Did so well for us, darlin'."

Your head feels like it's been filled with cotton, and your mouth is in a similar state as you nod dazedly.

You're not sure when, but at some point, Price gently moves you to lay your back against the cushion of the couch. "Need you to drink something for us, sweetheart, okay?"

Gods, this part? Them treating you like a princess, like you're something worthy of taking care of, it's almost as good as the orgasm they'd given you.

Gaz comes into view with a glass of water, and when he gently moves your chin to open your mouth, you let him pour it down your throat.

It feels almost like you're entirely too weak to do anything by yourself, like your ability to function has been completely removed by these men. It's intoxicating, the kind of feeling that could be as addictive as the most threatening of drugs.

The water slides down your throat, and it's as if it cools you from the inside out, your heartbeat slowly coming down from the quickened pace it was previously at.

Price picks you up, cradling your head to his chest as he sits down, the other three settling down on the couch as well. Gaz, sitting beside Price, moves your legs to sit over his lap, your feet in Soap's. Ghost sits to Soap's left, his eyes focused on you as you get comfortable, burrowing your head closer to Price.

If you could stay in this moment forever, you think that you'll be a very happy woman.

Closing your eyes, you drift into a space between sleep and awareness, and when they flutter open again, you realise that your previously exposed pussy and legs are now hidden by your sweatpants that had been laid on your bed, ready to be put away.

Price's hand is in your hair, softly playing with the strands. His hand encompasses your entire scalp, almost, and if you weren't completely exhausted, that fact alone would have you ready to get on your knees.

"What're we gonna do?" Gaz whispers, and you realise with a start that they must all think you're still dozing. "I mean, we seriously fucked this up."

"Not yet we haven't," Ghost interrupts, voice still gravelly and low, but with a hint of warmth. "This doesn't change anything."

"This changes everything!" Soap hisses back, incredulous, his hands stilling from where they were rubbing into your feet with practiced movements. Were they all trained masseuses, or something?

No. Trained killers, your mind unhelpfully supplies, and a chill runs down your spine.

Oh god. Oh god. What had you done? Seriously, what the actual fuck had you done? You just.

You just lost your virginity to four of your father's very lethal, very dangerous friends. Friends who are nearly twice your age, at that.

Oh. God.

"Laswell will be expecting correspondence by three," Price mutters in a voice akin to a whisper. "You boys know what we have to do."

What? What were they talking about? Who was Laswell? What did they have to do by three?

Your mind whirrs, like a hamster in a wheel, before the sound of keys jingling on the other side of your front door has your entire body freezing.

Oh god.

Oh. God.

"Shit," Gaz grumbles, and between one thought and the next, you've been bundled up into a warm chest, the movement fluid and shockingly quick. A hand at the base of skull softly pushes your head against a warm neck, and your legs hang over a muscled arm. "I'll take her upstairs. Be quiet and quick."

There's murmurs too quiet between the other three as you're taken up the stairs, two steps at a time, by the man whose fingers had been on your pussy, at most, only an hour ago.

You're aware that you've been taken to your room when the door clicks behind you, the familiar path to it engrained in your memory, even with your eyes closed and in someone else's arms.

The smell of vanilla and caramel is a comforting and familiar one, and you realise that you'd left your candle burning all night.

It's really the least of your worries, but that thought manages to snag at your conscious like an annoying fly.

"I'm so sorry, kid," Gaz whispers, gently laying you down underneath your bedsheets, before pulling them up and over your lazed form. "I'll try my best to talk some sense into 'em."

You're not sure what he could possible mean -- what the fuck was even happening, what your life was even becoming, but his words are nothing if not sincere.

His tone is almost... apologetic, in a way, and you reserve that thought for later. When you're not pretending to be awake, when you're still not slightly out of it from your first orgasm caused by someone else, when you're not in the middle of the worst moral conflict of your life.

Your window's slightly open, allowing a soft breeze to brush over your still slightly heated skin as Gaz presses a soft kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back.

"Get off me!"

Your father. That's your father's voice, and it sounds panicked, angry -- not unusual, but still, the cause of it was nearly always you.

And those specific words, what --

"Y'know, Laswell found out somethin' pretty interestin' the other day," a voice that you recognise as Ghost's says, tone mocking interest.

Gaz moves away from you, before going to the window and looking out at whatever scene is happening down there. Somehow, he hasn't realised you're not asleep -- you'd kept your breathing pattern the same as it usually was when you're asleep, some youtube video you'd watched months ago finally coming in handy.

You can hear them all clear as day through the small opening of the window, and Gaz can too.

"Aye. Somethin' 'bout some info bein' leaked," Soap continues Ghost's train of thought, and you're so lost it's almost pathetic.

But, you continue to listen, desperate for any source of understanding for whatever the fuck was happening down there.

"You can't possibly think it was me!" Your father yells, his voice full of venom and rage. To have it not be directed at you is a rare moment, and you allow yourself a small breath of reprieve.

"We know it was you," Price says, before sighing loud enough for it to be heard from your room. "The way you spoke about that kid of yours was enough to cement the idea."

"She's a fuckin' waste of space, and where do you get off on caring how I treat my kid? Has nothin' to do with the job!"

Those words hurt. Like an actual, physical wound, almost.

Gaz swears under his breath, and you can feel the tension ooze out of him like a wave. It's... oddly comforting.

There's the sound of a fist hitting a jaw, and it takes everything in you not to race to the window and look at what's going on yourself.

"Jesus fucking christ!" Your father hisses, and you put two and two together. One of the three men down there had punched him -- if you had to take a guess, it was Ghost.

"You've never been one of us, and you'll never be one of us. You sellin' us out was the last straw, mate," Soap snarls. You can hear him spit on the ground, before another sound of fists flying makes your heart race.

There's a moment of silence, until two things happen in the span of five seconds.

First, your father screams, "Please! Don't --"

And then...

A bullet.

The sound of a trigger being pulled.

The sound of a bullet ringing through the air.

The sound of a final breath.

Your eyes fly wide, and you immediately stumble out of bed.

Gaz's gaze meets yours, and there's nothing but apology in them. No guilt, just apology.

He doesn't stop you from looking out the window, where your father's body lays in the grass, blood leaking from the wound now sitting between his eyes.

And when you turn to him, he doesn't stop you as you land a punch to his jaw.

a/n. CROSS-POSTED TO AO3 ummm so did i PLAN for this to become an actual fic? no. not in the slightest. but i was writing the fingering bit and was like. what if her dad died? and there's an actual plot? so uhhh here we are! anyways hope yall enjoyedddd if u guys know me u know polyamory is my SHIT so there will very likely be more poly!tf141 x reader to come. ty for reading mwah mwah mwah

[dilfl0v3rss]

all yours

when it came to your safety, onyankopon played zero games. if he felt even the slightest bit of worry he had no problem getting you from wherever you may be. there have been times where you’ve been walked out of parties, stores, and even something as little as a smoke sesh with your girls. if ony felt you were unsafe you were going home no questions asked, and you honestly didn’t have an issue with it. feeling a sense of pride in having a man that cares so deeply for you. that was until tonight…

the two of you were at your friend ivy’s place for her big housewarming party when you were getting weird stares from a couple hating ass bitches. ivy didn’t want her party to be small so she told each person she invited to tell some friends to come as well. which led to this weird ass bitch brielle hearing about the party and deciding to curse everyone with her presence. brielle was an old fling of ony’s that he been cut off like a year ago, but she’s so thick in the head that she still runs her mouth about him to this very day. you, being the classy woman you are, have been ignoring the bitch because it honestly was sad of her to be acting like this, but today she reached her limit.

when you and ony first arrived everything was great. “heyy bitchhhh. so glad y’all could make ittt.” ivy screamed as she welcomed you and ony into her new home. ony greeted her with a small “wassup, thank you for havin’ us” before letting you have the floor, walking towards jean and connie to talk. “hey boooo. this place is niceeee you gotta let me spend the night sooon” the two of you talked for awhile before she let you go to get a drink from the kitchen. as you filled your red solo cup halfway with casamigos you noticed some girls approaching where your boyfriend and his friends were. before being able to move, you were stopped by sasha, mikasa and.

sasha was the first to talk. “you peep that shit right?” she said, nodding her head towards the girls. you knew if one of your friends was going to say something about what was going on it would be sasha. mikasa was on the quieter side, but best believe when it came to you she didn’t play either. “yea i see em. that bird ass bitch and her lil flock of pigeons tryna play games” the three of you watched as brielle and her little sidekicks were all up in you boyfriend’s faces. brielle being the main one, lightly hitting ony’s chest while she laughed. her red bussdown was flowing behind her as she pushed it over her shoulder, purposely trying to bounce her tiddies as she “fixed” her hair.

being the levelheaded woman you are, you decided against approaching them. knowing that you’d probably knock the bitches head off her shoulders if you went anywhere near her right now. so you pulled out your phone and sent ony a quick and simple text. ony looked at his phone almost immediately, knowing it was you who texted him since he had it on dnd for everyone else.

my wife💐

‘tell that bitch move around or ima drag her outta here omm😐’

as soon as he read the text, ony lifted his head and began searching for you. soon he locked eyes with yours, excusing himself from whatever conversation was going on and making his way to the kitchen. “what’s wrong now?” is this nigga dumb? did he not just see and feel that bitch being weird touching on him? “nun bruh just tell that hoe to keep her distance. that hair look new and i’d hate to have that shit on the floor” as the two of you conversed you couldn’t help but peep ivy and her friends start to mug you and your girls. eventually making their way towards you. before you can even point it out your thoughts were cut off by sasha. “yea i’m finna flip dis hoe. got me all the way fucked up.”

ony watched your friends start to remove their earrings and adjust their clothes, and being the nonconfrontational man that he was he decided it was time for you to go. “go tell ivy we leavin’ and wait f’me in the car ma. i’ll get you a slice of ca-” “nah i’m good right here.” you cut him off, eager to see what this bitch was on. as they approached y’all you see that sasha and mikasa were quick to be at your side, standing face to face with each of brielle’s friends. “you got a problem wit me shawty?” brielle smirked, looking you up and down and taking pride in pissing you off. but your mouth was smart and even though it got you in trouble with your man, there was nothing you couldn’t handle when it came to other people.

“nah but you seem to have a problem that i got the nigga you want” you spit back with a smile. you could see that your comment got under her skin. she was rolling her eyes as she replied. “nah ion got a problem when i know i can have em right back anytime. like last saturday for instance.” this bitch is a liar and you knew it. laughing at loud as both her and your friends looked at you confused. last saturday ony was home the entire day, and you can only remember it so vividly because he had you face down in the mattress for cursing him out over being late to brunch. you also remembered it so vividly because he recorded most of it on your phone. “tuhh bitch please pick a different lie because you know damn well he was with me. now are we gon sit here and chit chat or you tryna take this outside cause ian really with allat talkin’. ”

before the bird could reply, ony stepped in the middle of yall and tried to play the mediator. “y/n. get in the car, now. and brielle, what we had been over for a long ass time now. give that shit up and move on.” you backed down, feeling that no bitch was worth getting into it with your man. you were lowkey tired of being the bigger person, but knew i’d be better this way than just fighting and possibly ruining your friends party. as you made your way around ony, you gave brielle the illest mug ever to let her know that even though you’re leaving, you still ain’t no bitch. it wasn’t even five seconds since you left the kitchen where you can hear the bitch starting up again. “i don’t know why you still dealin’ wit that bitch. don’t you miss me ponpon?” brielle said in a baby like voice.

“nah chill wit that bitch word bro. and you really needa stop running your fuckin’ mouth bout her too cause i may not be here next time to stop her” you smiled while ony shut that bitch down. you knew he was more on the calm side so hearing him raise his voice a little turned you on. “oh please nigga you know damn well her shit nowhere as good as mine. used to have your soul leaving your body and allat. you can act like you don’t miss me but ik that dick think otherwise.” that was it for you. it was in the blink of an eye when you were dragging that bitch outside by her hair. honestly you needed whatever glue she got bc her shit wasn’t moving an inch. as you pulled her down the steps of ivy’s porch, you felt ony trying to grab at your wrists.

“mama let her hair go right now.” he yelled. you whip your head to the side, face to face with your man as he stared at you with a warning in his eyes. your fingers instantly straightened before brielle dropped to the ground. the stare this man was giving you made your heart start pumping rapidly. through his eyes you could tell that he was saying “don’t test me”, and you had no intention of finding out what would happen if you did. it was almost instantly when ony grabbed the top of your arm, quickly walking you to his car. most of the people were already outside, migrating there as they watched you drag brielle from the kitchen to the porch. ony opened your door and you sat down, ready to leave this whole day behind already. before you could close the door you heard brielle yapping again.

“fuck you bitch you can have the nigga. ain’t nun but a piece of dick anywayssss.” you hopped out the car and sprinted towards brielle with a quickness. as she seen you approaching she tried to square up but her hands were trash. punches were flying from everywhere, connecting right to her face every time. you honestly didn’t really care too much about what she said about you, but when it came to your boyfriend there was a line to be crossed. and she stomped right over it. “keep. my. man. name. out. your. fuckin’. mouth. bitch.” she was now laid on the floor with her arms shielding her bleeding face while you continued to throw blows her way. sasha seen her friends inching up about to jump in and shut it down immediately. “if you move anotha inch ima start swinging too. we don’t do nun of that jumping shit so i wish you would try so i can fuck you up right here.”

her friends looked at each other before back up completely, not wanting any problemsm. before long you felt strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the ground and away from brielle. you were thrown into the backseat of ony’s car before he turned the child lock on, not being able to trust you to not open the door and attack again. he made his way to the front seat and threw a handful of tissue towards you from the glove compartment. the two of you were driving home in complete silence as you wiped your hands clean. usually your man would be lecturing you right now, but there was a calmness to him that frightened you. “umm…are you mad at me?”

he ignored you, asking his own question instead. “why do you get so jealous?” he mumbled, glancing at you in the rear view mirror. you rolled your eyes, acting as if what he was saying was the most ridiculous thing in the world when in actuality, he was right. you knew that ony and brielle been done way before you even came in the picture, but the thought of him even being with her made you feel a way. ony knew you very well and he could tell how you were feeling regardless of what you did or said.

“mama how many times i gotta tell you i’m only yours huh? why can’t you just trust me?” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he kept replaying the nights events over and over again in his head. “how you expect me to trust you when you okay wit letting bitches be in your face? bitches you used to fuck!” you yelled, holding back tears as you moved your gaze out the window. ony opened his mouth to speak, but decided against going back and forth with you any longer. “we’ll fix this at my crib. not finna argue wit you in the car”

when the two of you made it to his apartment, ony wasted no time, leading you to his room before sitting you down on his lap. “so why you don’t trust me?” he asked, his handing running all over your back as he awaited your reply. you looked at the ground tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you tried your hardest to keep your voice from wavering. “i do” ony sucked his teeth at your words, lightly grabbing your chin and facing you towards him so you could see the knowing look he was giving you. “don’t lie mama, you said it in the car. why don’t you trust me?” the tears you’ve been fighting finally broke free as you quickly covered your eyes and sobbed into his lap. “i-it’s not you pa. i-i was just a little jealous b’cause you were letting her….her-” your cries took most of your breath from you, making you have to stop in the middle of your sentence so you can take a breath. “sh sh sh i get it baby. how you want me t’fix it huh?”you shrugged your shoulders at his question, not having an idea on how he could make this horrible night any better. “a-any way you can”

a soft smile made its way to ony’s face as he lightly pushed you down on your back. he removed your bottoms before slowly getting on his knees. “this way okay?” he asked, chuckling at how you eagerly nodded your head as an answer. it wasn’t long before ony had you a blabbering mess, his fingers digging into you slowly as he took in each of you pretty face expressions. “say it again baby” your back was arched off the bed as you repeated the words ony planned to have to chanting all night. “y-you’re all mine shitt” your moans made his dick grow stiff in his pants as ony looked at the sight of your glistening wet pussy. he quickly pulled his fingers out, laying his tongue flat on your clit before eating you out sloppily.

the feeling of his skilled tongue made you scream as you pushed and pulled on his head. “again” he mumbled into your pussy, too addicted to fully take his mouth away as he looked up at your pretty face. “all mine daddy a-all mine” ony sucked softly on your clit, letting his tongue run all over it in his mouth to quickly grab an orgasm out of you. his tactic worked, making him smile as he felt your juices begin to rush out of you and wet his chin. “good girl mama”

ony stood up in front of you, taking in the sight of your post orgasmic glow as he rubbed himself through his sweatpants. the sight of his bulge made you whine in want as you slowly leaned up to free him from his pants. ony quickly grabbed your hand, giving you a soft expression before lightly pushing flat onto the bed. “s’not about me right now mama. let me do this for you ‘kay?” you nodded your head at his words, making ony give you a like tap on your thigh to make you jump. “lemme hear your voice” at the sound of the small “yes” you gave him, ony slowly freed his dick from the confines of his sweats before lining it up with your tight entrance. “say it again”

“you’re all m-….ohmygoddd” the feeling of his thick dick sinking into your walls made a pretty cry fall from your lips. your back arching off the bed as your hand quickly flew to his wrists. ony didn’t let up, his pace slow, but his thrusts deep as he dug into you with love. “yea m’all yours mama. who dick is it?” your eyes were already at the back of your skull. small whimpers falling from your lips as you tried your hardest not to let your mind drift off into the clouds. “s’m….s’mine daddy” your words were slurred as you felt his dick begin to kiss your cervix in a way that made you want to scream. “ooouuu fuckkk”

ony’s pace began to quicken. the force of his quicker thrusts making your body begin to jerk a little on the sheets. he slowly pulled up your shirt, freeing your perky breasts before leaning down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples. the feeling of his wet tongue on the sensitive bud making you grow wetter as you caressed the back of his head. you knew there would be marks in the morning, but you didn’t care. letting your man prove to you how much he loves and cares about you through making sweet love to your body. ony released your nipple with a small pop before moving up to your neck.

the dark purple marks were already beginning to form in both of the areas as he slowly moved his lips to your ear. “say it again f’me mama. don’t want you t’forget” as ony waited for your reply, he leaned up from your body, staring down at you lovingly before pulling out of you completely. you matched his gaze, your brown eyes big and watery as you told him the words he longed to hear. “you’re mine” with that ony flipped you onto your stomach, quickly thrusting back into you before fucking you at a fast pace. his dick kissed all the right places in you as you cried out into the air. “oh…oh my goddd daddy right there!” ony smirked as you continued to moan for him. he just started and you were already ready to make a mess all over the sheets. the sloppy sounds of his dick stroking your pussy ringing through the air as proof.

“s’too soon, need you t’hold it f’me ma. can you do that?” you quickly nodded your head, earning you a hard snap of his hips that made you yelp in pleasurable pain. “what i tell you before? talk t’me baby” he was pounding you into the sheets now, your back arched to perfection as ony kept a hand on your back and another at the top of your ass. “i….i can hold it daddy” a smile spread into ony’s brown features as he listened to your whiny voice. your pussy fluttering as you felt his thumb rub over your tight hole. “you want me to?” he asked, chuckling at how quickly you whined out a “yes daddy….please”. ony moved his hand before letting his spit drip from his mouth to your ass.

lightly rubbing his spit outside the brown hole before he lightly fed it the tip of his thumb. you moaned at the sensation, throwing yourself back on him to get more if his dick along with poking your ass out more. “greedy thing” he groaned before fully sheathing his tumb inside of you. the sight made his dick twitch as ony began to fuck you harder and faster. occasionally stroking your puckering hole with his thumb to keep you on edge.

“you trust me now baby?” he breathed, the sight and sound of your pretty moans and even prettier body making it hard for him not to want to shoot his load deep inside of you. “y-yes daddy….with my life”

“you gon cut out the jealousy shit?” ony began to pound into you, using his free hand to push your arch down deeper as he quickly fucked the both of you closer to your orgasms. “mmm..mhm n-no more” the feeling of his long dick repeatedly hitting your g spot made your legs shake under you as you began to soak the sheets under you with drool. “say it one more time for me beautiful and we gon cum together” tears fell from your eyes at the rush of emotions flowing through your body right now. the feeling of love and trust being the most powerful as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to snap.

“you’re all mine”

[whore-era]

delinquent!ellie williams headcanons 18+

has the MEANEST MUG FACE at everyone but her close loved ones, especially you. she shows you the softest side to her bc you naturally just draw it out. ellie will literally have the grouchiest face, but once she sees you, it will be all soft heart eyes around you and you only! everyone else though? fuck them. they will get a bitch face and a middle finger thrown their way!

is guilty for always manspreading, but it's okay because it kinda stirs something inside you anyways. you guys will literally be anywhere, and she'll sit with her legs spread with her hands behind her head and you'd find yourself walking over and plopping yourself on her lap.

is extremely territorial and possessive of her girl, but not in a way where she's controlling you by any means. ellie is aware of how gorgeous and sexy her girl is, and while she has no problem with others looking, she draws the line at people approaching you. you would be at a party, talking with your friends, occasionally looking across the room at her. while giving each other loving glances, some guy approaches probably saying "hey girl, you lookin' finnneeee as hell tonight, you wanna get outta here?" and she'll already be behind him, fists balled up and hissing, "get the fuck away from my girlfriend."

would absolutely beat someone's ass for you. if someone is disrespectful to you or looks at you the wrong way or god forbid, lay their hands on you, it's automatically on sight for her. "but you should'a seen the other guy, babe. he's got it worse," she'll say, as you're sat on the sink with her in between your legs, tending to her small cuts and bruises. "what'd i tell you, els? you can't keep getting into these stupid fights because one guy says something dumb about me." "yea, baby, i know. i just hate when people say shit about you," she coos, "you're absolutely fucking amazing, and everyone should know that by now." you both end up kissing in the bathroom and it always ends up with you being bent over the sink taking her strap-

you would CONSTANTLY be on her ass about everything. since she does have a short temper, you always find yourself having to check her and and lecture her a bit, and she lowkey kinda loves it? ellie thinks you're hot as hell taking a little bit of control and telling her what to do, and every time you do have to lecture her, she'll look at you with desire in her eyes and respond with "yes, ma'am", "alright, baby, whatever you say", "mhm yes, baby m'listening" even though she quite literally is hyper-focused on how sexy as fuck you look lecturing her rn.

always putting her hands on you! whether it's rubbing your ass when she's cuddling you, holding your hand when you're out and about, or putting her hands on your hips and waist when she wants to be close to you. 

showing how she feels about you in actions rather than words. ellie has a tough time expressing how she feels for you directly in words, and sometimes her message that she’s trying to send doesn’t always sound…right. so she’ll do little acts of services for you like picking up lunch for you on days when you’re extremely swamped with work and assignments, organizing your books and backpack when you fall asleep on your desk from studying, picking up your favorite snacks when you need a lil cheering up, and helping you take off your clothes when you’re extra exhausted from the day. 

always assuring you’re safe. ellie will always make sure you never have to travel alone and tries to walk you to and from class, but if she’s busy she’ll bug dina to do it. she’ll always ask where you are and who you’re with just to make sure you’re safe and alright, periodically checking in with you with texts (even tho it can be a lil bit annoying but u never say anything bc u know she’s just worried). baby u ok taking the bus alone? yes els i’m fine babe. u sure? i can come get u rn. no my love u don’t need to do that. swear. yk what babe let me ask dina if she can- ellieeee….

a/n this one was rly short my apologies ;P

[rrenzwrld]

secreto de amor

connie falling in luv w his bsf sister ; a series? idk

enjoy! it’s been a while i’m sorry😔

“con, this is my sister— step sister, y/n.” jean introduced you to the shorter dude with his buzzcut dyed lime green. “y/n, this is my friend, constance.” jean smiled because he knew he was about to piss connie off.

“nice to meet you, constance—“

“don’t call me that.” he glared at you whilst he spoke in a cold tone. jean snickered as your friendly smile dropped.

“is that not your name?”

“it is but you can call me connie. don’t let your brother get you fucked up.” for it to be the first time meeting him, he was kinda mean. but you guessed you had to respect his boundaries if you two were gonna get along, even if he was rude in establishing them.

jean shoved connie to the side. “don’t talk to her like that. keep on, i’ll kick the shit outta your lil ass.” but all he did was shrug and walk away.

“sure.” jean turned to you with a sympathetic look on his face.

“sorry bout him. he’s an asshole.” you glared your brother down.

“figures.”

jean obviously wasn’t your blood brother but he was your older brother through marriage. his dad married your mom a few years ago but you two had been around each other for longer than that so the marriage brought you closer over time. jean had moved out when he finished college and invited you to move in with him so you did. he was the only man in the world you trusted enough to live with. connie was younger than jean but a little older than you so he was friends with jean for a while. you just never bothered to meet him when he came over and stayed in your room instead. but it was different this time because jean actually asked you to meet his friend this time so you didn’t see a problem with it.

“your sister’s cute.” connie took a hit of the blunt he had in his hand. jean kicked him in the leg.

“you know how i feel about that.”

“what?” he looked clueless but he knew what jean referred to.

“you hittin on my sister and you don’t even do relationships—“

“whoa.. i didn’t say anything about relationships. literally just said she was cute, calm down.”

“i don’t even want you thinking she’s cute. think she’s ugly or something.”

“but she’s not though.”

“oh really? i—“ jean was about to pull out his phone and show the most embarrassing pictures he had of you, but luckily you had walked into the room before he could.

“jean, can i borrow your car?” jean looked at you like you were crazy. the only reason you were asking was because your car was in the shop so you had no choice but to utilize the brother you had. you just hated asking or relying on people for things.

“uh no. take the bus.” connie let out a snicker before your eyes darted to his reaction. all you did was roll your eyes and continued the conversation with jean.

“i haven’t rode public transportation since high school. you know i’m only asking because lola in the shop right now…”

“…lola? you named your car?” connie felt the need to comment for whatever reason.

“shut up. yes, i did. you got a problem, baldy?” connie didn’t respond with anything else. “yeah. anyways, jean?” jean smacked his teeth before allowing you to get his keys.

“thank you, thank you!” you pulled your brother in for a hug. “love you, i’ll be back!”

“you better..” he mumbled.

“it’s the way you actually let her use your car. your dumbass didn’t even ask where she was going.” jean paused because he realized how right connie was. he was going to regret it but felt no need because the deed had been done and he’d deal with it whenever you came back.

“shut up. it’s the way you actually don’t know how to mind your fucking business.”

[beautifuldisaster88]

Even after being together for three years, JJ still couldn't believe that he landed the hottest girl on the island, not to mention the kook princess. It blew his mind that a literal goddess worshipped the ground that he walked on, always saying that the Pogue could do no wrong in her eyes. She didn't care that JJ was a Pogue, living on the cut and barely scraping to get by, none of the materialistic bullshit meant a thing to her. As long as she had the blonde next to her and knew that he was hers, that's all she needed. It was no secret that she also worshipped the ground that he walked on.

Of course being the kook princess meant that she was in no way hurting for money. She always made sure that JJ and the rest of the Pogues had food, electricity and running water, even if they tried to tell her that she didn't need to spend money on her. This was her way of thanking them for welcoming her with open arms and not treating her like just another kook. She made sure that all the bills for the chateau were paid on time every month, ignoring John B when he told her that wasn't necessary. They were her family now, and she'd always make sure they were well taken care of.

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

She walked into the kitchen of the chateau, wearing one of JJ's shirts that hung on her small frame. You couldn't tell by looking, but she had her favorite bikini under it, and where others might not know that, the Pogues did. Rummaging through the nearly empty refrigerator and cabinets she pouted. She adored the Pogues but damn they were stubborn. She'd told them multiple times that if they needed food or anything at all, they were to tell her and she'd get it. It wasn't unusual for her boyfriend not to notice things like there being no food in the house, but she at least expected John B to let her know when the chateau got low on food.

"Jayj! JB!" She called out from the kitchen before making her way into the living room where her boyfriend and best friend were playing Xbox. Oh sure, they had no problem playing the video games she'd bought for the chateau, but God forbid they mention the lack of food in the house.

"Whatcha need, mamas?" The blonde asked his girlfriend, his eyes glued to the screen as he continued to play whatever game him and John B were playing.

"You boys are in trouble." She said sternly, placing her hands on her hips.

Both boys immediately looked at each with wide eyes, as though trying to figure out what it was they'd done this time to get into trouble with the kook princess.

"Whatever it is, it was all your boyfriend. I had no part in it." The Routledge boy quickly spoke up, setting the controller down to put his hands up in surrender.

"Dude! Way to throw me under the bus!" JJ exclaimed, a bit too dramatically. At least it tore his attention from the screen. His girlfriend just looked at him, watching him scratch his head as the gears turned. "It wasn't me this time. I swear, mamas. I've stayed outta trouble, don' wanna get grounded from that pussy again. Nuh uh, I ain't doing shit to be tortured like that."

"You're both idiots." She laughed, shaking her head as she walked over to sit on JJ's lap, caressing her manicured fingers through his blonde mop, knowing it made him putty in her hand. "Did you boys forget to mention something very important?"

Both of the boys racked their brains trying to figure out what she was talking about, the worry evident in their eyes. She let them torture themselves for a few minutes before finally speaking up.

"Food, dumbasses. You failed to mention that you ate all the food. How many times have I told you guys to let me know when you're running low on food? I can't let my boys go without food."

JJ's arms immediately wrapped possessively around her torso, not liking the fact that she called his best friend one of her boys, even though she always called all three of the Pogues her boys. Hell, everyone on the island knew that the three boys were her boys, two of them platonically and JJ romantically.

"He's not your boy, 'm your only boy." He mumbled, to which she ignored and just smirked at how adorable her boyfriend was.

"Sorry, kiddo. I just feel like shit that you're always spending money on us. I was hoping to make enough to put some food in here, but tips have been shitty lately. Half the kooks that I deliver groceries to refuse to tip a 'dirty pogue'." John B said, looking down at the controller.

"I want names. I'm about to go off on the kooks who refuse to tip you. Also, I've told you guys that I enjoy taking care of you. My money is also the Pogues money, whatever you need just tell me. Food being the top priority. We're going shopping for groceries, no argument."

JJ began peppering kisses down her neck, biting and sucking on her smooth skin, smirking at his masterpiece of little purple bruises on her neck. It was rare to not see her with love bites and hickey's, the Maybank boys way of marking what belonged to him.

"I happen to be starving, mamas, but not for no food you find at any store." JJ mumbled against her neck, his hand trailing down to her thigh where he squeezed, chuckling when she squeezed her thighs together.

"You can have your dessert, baby." She whispered in a seductive and teasing voice. "After we go shopping for actual food."

The blonde let out a dramatic sigh, giving her a look like a puppy who'd just been kicked. Picking her up as he stood from his spot on the couch, he snapped his head to look at his best friend, holding out one of his hands.

"I need the keys to the Twinkie, bro. Mamas here won't let me eat my favorite snack if we don't let her put food in here. Do you really want to deal with a pussy starved JJ? I don't think you do." The blonde exclaimed.

John B's eyes widened and he laughed, fishing in his pocket for his keys, before tossing them to the blonde.

"Definitely don't want that. I almost drowned you last time just to shut you up. No fucking in the Twinkie this time. Last time it took me over a week to get the smell of sex out."

"We'll behave, JB." She giggled in JJ's arms.

The blonde just smirked, winking at his best friend as he walked out the front door with his girlfriend in his arms, making John B shake his head.

"They're definitely going to fuck in my van again." He laughed to himself, picking up the controller and unpausing the game.

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

"Fuck... R-right there... Don't... Stop.." Her cries and pleas filled the inside of the Twinkie. JJ had her face down and ass up, drilling into her sopping cunt as he fucked her merciless in the back of his best friends van, unable to wait until they were back at the chateau.

"Doin' so good for me, mamas. That sweet pussy is tryin' to milk my cock dry." He groaned, slipping out of her, only to slam back inside her tight pussy.

The way she clenched around his cock told JJ that she was close. Reaching his hand down, he began rubbing her clit and applying pressure. She was a moaning mess under him, tear stained cheeks from sucking him off before he fucked her senseless. Fuck, she looked so beautiful being drunk off his cock.

"Look at my fucking beautiful kook princess, taking this Pogue dick like the good slut you are. 'm gonna fill that pretty little pussy with my cum. Ya want daddy's cum, Baby Girl? Hmm? Of course you do, fucking cum slut."

"m' gonna cum, daddy. Want your cum." She whined, starting to tremble under him.

JJ gripped her hair around his fist, yanking her head back to look at him. He loved watching her come undone and the faces she made when she came. His thrusts were sloppy, hinting that he was also close, but her release was more important to JJ. The blonde attacked her neck with his mouth, leaving more marks as he destroyed her sweet pussy. "Cum 'fme, mamas. Cum on Daddy's cock."

He wrapped a strong arm around her torso, supporting her body as she reached her high, throwing her head back and screaming out his name as she came all over his cock. Unable to hold back any longer, JJ released his load, coating her gummy walls in thick white ropes of his cum. He didn't stop thrusting in and out, wanting to make sure he fucked his cum deep inside her cunt.

After finally pulling out, he grabbed her by the waist and brought her against his toned chest as the blonde collapsed on the floor of the Twinkle. Both of them panting and sweaty.

JJ brushed the hair back that had been sticking to her face, admiring her beautiful fucked out face. It still amazed him how it was his cock bringing her pleasure, how it was his mouth marking her. He placed multiple small kisses all over her face and shoulders.

"You did so good, mamas. I love you." He whispered breathlessly.

"I love you, Jayj. Thank you , Daddy." She whispered back just as breathlessly.

"Ain't no way we're gettin' 'way with this one. The Twinkie reeks of sex. Least we got the food." JJ's chest rumbled as he laughed, making her bury her face into his chest with embarrassment, but at least she giggled.

"I'll make it up to JB by making my famous brownies and cookies."

"Special brownies?" The blonde boy asked excitedly.

"Mmm, yes. I'll make you a batch of special brownies, baby." She smiled up at him.

JJ looked at her with love and admiration, caressing the side of her face before leaning down to capture her lips. "Fuck, how did I get so lucky to have you?"

She giggled and shook her head.

"'m the lucky one, J. I'm the first girl who got you to commit."

"Damn right you did. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you and swore to do anything to make you mine. I was shocked as shit the first time I asked you out on a date and you agreed. I'm gonna marry you, mamas and we're gonna have little Maybanks runnin' round, causing havoc. 'm gonna save up enough money, get us our own place. It'll have to be here on the cut though, can't afford figure eight, sorry princess."

That made her scrunch up her nose. She didn't care about living on Figure Eight, as long as she was with JJ. Hell, she'd live in a cardboard box if it meant having their own place together.

"Don't care about living on Figure Eight, Jayj. Just wanna live with you. Think it's time I went from kook princess to Pogue princess... Long as Kie doesn't mind me taking that title."

JJ laughed, holding her close.

"You're the Pogue princess, mamas. Ain't no one else claiming that shit but you. I'll fight Kie for it if she even tries bitchin'. You earned that shit, Mrs. Maybank."

She melted every time he called her Mrs. Maybank.

"We better get dressed and get these groceries back to the chateau, Mr. Maybank. Cancel your plans for the rest of the night, cause mama plans on making Daddy feel good all night."

That's all JJ needed to hear. He quickly rummaged around the Twinkie, grabbing their clothes, laughing when he held up her torn thong that he'd ripped off. Thankfully she was used to him tearing her undergarments by now, even some of her clothes. Her bedroom was inpatient when it came to getting her naked, often resulting in him just ripping the fabric off of her.

After the two got dressed, JJ drove like a maniac to the chateau.

"Here's the food. You're job to put it away. Mamas is desperate for Daddy's cock."

Is all JJ had to say to John B when they walked in carrying bags of groceries. He sat them down on the counter, before grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to their shared bedroom at the chateau.

"Best clear your schedule for the next two to three days, mamas. You won't be walking right after I'm done with you. Bought to give you the Maybank dick special."

[tootiecakes234]

Warnings: cheating Katsuki (not on you tho, but with you, eventual smut next part)

Bakugo’s POV

I hate her. I hate her, yet she’s always around. She’s raccoon eyes’ best friend so that means she at every party, every hang out, and every sleepover. I can’t fucking escape her.

She’s so goddamn annoying. Always starting up conversations with me about shit I don’t care about. She laughs at the shit I say, but I’m not being funny, I’m being deadass serious. And don’t get me started on the way she laughs. She does it with her entire body and it’s loud too. Pisses me off so bad.

She’s a problem for me because the more I hang out with her, the more I can’t stop thinking about her.

I have a girlfriend. A great fucking girlfriend. She’s sweet, too sweet to be dating me, and kind. Probably the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met, so explain to me why when I’m with her and I’m thinking about Y/N. She’s literally invading my waking thoughts as well as my dreams.

I’ve tried distancing myself from her and being more of a jackass hoping she’d get fed up and just leave me the hell alone but nothing works and I’m running out of options.

We were having a movie night at Kaminari’s apartment tonight. I was in the kitchen cooking dinner, by myself, the way I prefer it.

“Heeey. How’s it going Kit Kat”, she was all cheeks and smiles

“I told you to stop fucking calling me that you idiot.”

“But it’s the cutest nickname I can think of. You have any other suggestions??”, she looked at me like she was being serious.

I turned to her, giving her my full attention so she knew I was being serious, “Bakugo. You can call me Bakugo like everybody else.

“Your friends don’t call you Bakugo, they all call you Katsuki.”, the insane woman still had a warm smile sitting on her lips. There was also a really shiny lipgloss on them too. Did it have sparkles in it? Why did her lips look so-

“Hello?? Are you ok?” She started walking towards me.

“I’m fucking fine. I’d be better if you got the hell outta here.”, why the hell was she even in here. “ and yea my friends call me Katsuki, you’re not MY friend. You’re Mina’s friend. Speaking of which don’t you need to get back to her.” The last part came out more grumbled than firm the way I meant it to.

“No, she’s flirting with Eiji rn and I don’t wanna be a third wheel. Well I guess a fourth wheel cuz Denki is third wheeling.” Apparently she thought that was funny because she started chuckling to herself.

Her hair was all wild, framing her face and her cheeks… fuck me I don’t know what it is about her cheeks plumping up when she smiles or laughs.

“Well then go be a fourth wheel or whatever the hell. I’m cooking and I don’t like other people in my kitchen.”

“Your gf usually sits with you in here. Speaking of where is she? I haven’t seen her in forever and we need to catch up . She always gives the best gossip on you.”

“She had other shit to do and what kind of gossip does she tell about me???!”

“ oh nothing really”, she leaned over on the counter and her fucking tits were smooshed in between her arms.

“For the love of god can you please just get the fuck away from me?! How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like you. I don’t wanna be your shitty friend or listen to whatever the hell it is you constitute as jokes. Just get the fuck out!”, that last part was a hell of a lot louder than I expected it to be.

That’s when the tear fell. What the hell had I done?

She reached up quickly and wiped it away.

“Hey, why are you yelling at her like that you jackass? Y/N are you ok?”, Mina was the first one in the kitchen. And the rest of them followed suit. All asking question I didn’t have answers to.

“You guys I’m fine. Really. We all know how he gets when he’s cooking. Let’s just go back in the living room and let him finish.”, she smiled again but it didn’t reach her eyes. Damn it all to hell I felt like worst person to ever exist.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”, Mina asked her again as everyone started retreating the the living room.

I wasn’t able to hear her answer. I tried to put the whole thing outta my head and finish what I was doing but I couldn’t. It kept replaying in my head.

My phone brought be back to the present. Who the heel was calling me? When I looked down at the contact my girlfriend’s name was sitting there. Perfect fucking timing.

“Hello”

“Hey baby. What are you up to”, she sounded giddy.

“Im finishing up dinner, where are you?”

“On the way back my friends house. We are having a slumber party.”, he words were a little slurred.

“So I guess you guys have already started drinkin.”

“Haha yep.”, I heard someone in the background telling her to get off the phone. No boy calls at girls night. “Well I gotta go doll. My friends are getting upset with me. Love you!”

She hung up before I could even say it back. Women.

I had everything ready to go now, so I went out to tell the idiots it was time to eat.

She was gone.

“Is Y/N in the bathroom or something??”

Mina looked at me like she was ready to murder me, “ no she left. You yelled at her and hurt her feelings and she didn’t wanna stay. We tried to convince her.”

“Yea bro I think she was about to start crying. Why’d you yell at her like that?”, Eijirou said.

“She’s so cool. I don’t know why you don’t like her. You’ve been mean to her since she started hanging out with us.”, Denki chimed in

“Mina send me her address.” I grabbed my keys and started heading for the door.

“Why would I do that when she’s upset with you? You gonna go over there and yell at her some more cuz let me tell you-“

“I’m going to fucking apologize, so just send me the goddamn address.”

I got in my car and started driving. What the hell was I doing? Why am I going over here? I could give a rats ass about hurting someone’s feelings but here I am with my GPS on looking for her apartment building.

I got up to her door and paused because I knew that I should turn around. I knew I should just let the whole thing blow over but like the idiot I am, my hand starts banging on her front door.

I hear muffled through the door, “coming”

She opened the door and looked at my face. Had my foot not been in the door, she would’ve slammed it close.

“Move your foot before I stomp the shit out of it.”

I could feel the smirk pulling at my lips, “these are steal toe boots. I’d like to see you try.”, I told her.

“What do you want Bakugo? Why are you paying unwanted visits to my house? How did you even get my goddamn address?”, she looked disgusted with me. That’s fair. Also didn’t miss that she was calling me by my last name.

“Mina gave me your address. I’m coming to bring your back.”,

Part 2

[sinning-23]

Shake a'lil Ass

OPLA Reaction to you shaking ass, and shaking it well.

I already told yall this was my current hyperfixation I'm going all in and losing my fucking marbles in the process. Uhhhh yeah! Enjoy

Warnings: none really? like may e a PINCH of nsfw but you'll live lol, metions of shakin ass, and catching it.

Zoro

-Not really a jaw drop but his eyes get kinda big. Like he knew you had ass but to see it move like fuckin water was definitely an awakening

-Won't go out of his way to stare but will side-eye the fuck outta you when you do like a lil twerk, just barely shaking your ass in little circles. He loves that tbh.

-NOW IT'S A DIFFERENT STORY IF Y'ALL ARE IN AN ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

-Not that he's not gonna be mad if you're shaking as in one of the various bars they made to find their way in cause he can fight. God forbid some stranger tries to catch what is rightfully his. It's game over

-On the off chance that he actually dances with you, be prepared for his hands to be on your hips, handling anything you throw back. You might even get him to bite his lip a lil.

-If you ask him to shake ass he won't. you WILL NOT convince him. Even if it's just for a little bit, and no one is around. No ma'am no ham no spam

Luffy

-The first time he caught you twerk a lil bit was when you happened to be mopping the deck. However, the mop acted as a pole for you to keep your balance while you were in more or less a squat position, ass moving up and down.

-“What are you doing?”

-He really didn’t know what that was but he knew for a FACT he had to see it again…for research and demonstration purposes.

-Tried to catch it, but kinda of failed. Doesn’t try again but will definitely watch you when you throw it back.

-Doesn’t really have a problem with you finding another dance partner that can shake ass with you.

-He's already 5 steps ahead when a dude tries to come behind you.

-Just know before he can get his hands on you he’s being yanked back by a stretchy pair of arms and a smile that is more threatening than friendly

-He’s loved dancing with you and is more than happy to keep his hands on your hips when you throw it slow.

-His eyes get this kinda low, focused look, and somehow his lip always ends up tucked between his teeth. And there’s ALWAYS a blush rising to his cheeks.

-Gives a low, “okayyyyy.” To kinda hype you up

-What can he say his girl's so talented and beautiful and he gets to have her allll to himself.

-WHAT?! He’s allowed to be a bit possessive 😌

Sanji

-GYATTTT DAMN. Like he's stared before cause who wouldn't stare at you even when you're not twerking.

-The MINUTE he hears a beat drop and sees you sprint over to a space wide enough for your antics he's up and ready to protect you from creeps. (but also there to enjoy the show tbh)

-Never seen somebody twerk in a split before but now he has and the memory of you is tucked in a special folder in his brain...for safekeeping.

-Personally, he likes it when you have your random twerk moments. it could be the most simple task you're doing and you sneak in a lil jiggle just cause.

-In an established relationship best believes he's behind you, trying his damndest to keep up. one hand on your hip, the other taking a drag from his cigarette.

-Ok...maybe he'll try a little shake if you ask long enough, and he surprisingly got some cake back there. (whatchu doin with all that ass)

Nami

-That's my best friend, she a real bad bitch

-As your certified bestie... 9 times out of 10 she's shaking ass with you...her knees pop sometimes (hot girls with bad joints)

-Give her a break she don't do this often

-She tries and has gotten significantly better, learning from the best (you)

-In a relationship with her best believe your shakin ass on her. Like that's a given and gad damn can she catch whatever is thrown at her.

-She gets hella into it too, a focused look in her eyes with her lower lip tucked between her teeth

-Good music? a few drink in your systems? I mean there's already a dance circle formjng and there the two of you are throwing ass and catchign it for one another.

-She shakes her thighs a lot when shes alone and that ultimately turns into a lil twerk circle when shes feelin herself.

-'Oh wow...my ass kinda fat in this?" she smiles, turnng to the side to admire her figure.

-She gets kinda silly with it, chanting 'aye aye aye" or "fuck it up! fuck it up!"

-Nami = best twerk partner

Usopp

-Thinks he can catch it

-Is quickly proven TF WRONG. He miscalculated how much effort goes into that and damn he got overwhelmed fast

-Jesus Christ woman why you got so much ass like wtf

-He can’t catch it but he will grab two big handfuls of it when the chance arises

-Please throw it back slow on him- he’s literally gonna disintegrate omg.

-Yes he will shake ass with you

-Like Nami he will also hype you up

-Runs with you to the floor when the first few notes of back that ass up play. It’s serious business

-Don't let him get some drinks in his system cause ya'll will be in a nice little corner, lights just dim enough, your back to his front, the both of yall fuckin it up

Shanks

-PLEASE feel free to shake ass cause he's gonna watch, catch, and grind without a care in the world.

-The first time he caught you it was just a little jiggle, nothing more but as the drinks progresses, the more comfortable you got.

-Mans is kinda hypnotized with the way you move, like the circles, whew

-Can catch it VERY well. Only once did he falter a bit, stumbling only a pinch but he blamed it on the alcohol (no jamie foxx)

-really liked when you twerk show, purposefully pressing agaisnt him. but also

-Will squeeze the plush of your ass when you do, and I mean a handful of your ass is in his hand.

-Set his drink on top of it when you go slow because he knows you won't spill it. You'll get justtttt close enough but your hips are so calculated you don't.

-Get him drunk enough he'll shake some ass, only with you tho. dont tell him about it the next day, he'll deny deny deny with that stupid smile on his face.

Buggy

-I don't think we need to beat around the bush here. THIS MAN LOVES YOU AND YOUR ASS.

-He can catch it...sometimes. No there will not be further elaboration.

-Oh the occasion that he can successfully handle the way you move he manages to pull your hips onto him, loving the feeling of you shaking it slower

-It doesn't take much convincing to get him to twerk with you. he might ask why but will put his hands on his knees to prepare for your tutorial anyway.

-Now you wanna talk about the sound of rattling bones.... yes he tried to shake ass...but the thing is he doesn't really have any ass to shake so it just...its comical

-He's well aware of the fatty you got, hell he can't keep his hands from landing harsh smacks whenever he gets a chance. Don't let him catch you throwin it back 'cause he's gonna have the time of his life slapping it.

-Damn near fucking while dancing I mean it gets kinda nastyyyyy

-Saw you wall twerk, hasn't been the same since

-Not when he isn't particularly in the mood to dance, he loves to watch, and that's even better because he has an excuse to fuck up the next person to try and lay hands on what his.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 3: Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together?

You and Joel come up with a plan. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 2, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Some mild diet talk, no explicit mention of reader's weight or size (beyond she is smaller than Joel but my Joels are all giant, OK? Joel is like 6'5" Joel is a big big man, big big man). Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Sir, I can’t just… Well, I understand that you say that but…” 

Amanda, the sophomore girl who worked the front desk of the English department offices, frowned, phone clutched against her head. 

“I understand that,” she said again. “But she’s a special case, Professor…” She flinched and glanced up to see you coming in, looking relieved. “Sir? Give me just one second and I can check…” She pressed the hold button and lowered the receiver. “Professor, I am so so sorry, I know we’re not supposed to send unexpected calls or emails through to you but do you know a Joel Miller? He’s insisting he’s a friend of yours and…” 

You raised your eyebrows before answering. 

“Yeah, I know Joel. Go ahead and transfer him back to my office. And if he ever gives you a hard time again, tell him to fuck off.” 

Amanda looked relieved and took Joel off hold as you went to the end of the hall and unlocked your door. You didn’t have to share an office like a few other people in your department. One of the perks, you imagined, of being a big name that got the university some attention. But you hadn’t done much with the space yet, the only thing on the wall a framed poster that the dean had waiting for you when you started there. 

Your phone rang just as you set down your bag and you picked it up, tucking it against your shoulder. 

“Yes, what do you want, I’m busy being very famous and important,” you said with a slight English accent. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize best selling authors were such a hot commodity,” Joel said. “Should I make an appointment?” 

“Probably,” you replied. He snorted. “What’s up?” 

“Did you know that you tried to put your number in my phone the other night?” Joel asked. “Note that I say ‘tried’ because what you actually did was put something in my notes that has four numbers and then seven symbols which, if you’re counting, ain’t even the right number of digits.” 

You scoffed. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t change your passcode or set an alarm for 4:30 in the morning,” you said. “Sounds like you got off easy.” 

“You’re a menace.” 

“I know,” you said, smiling a little to yourself. “So why were you looking for my number on a Monday morning?” 

“Because I was looking for your number on a Sunday morning and ended up shit outta luck,” he replied. “Figured I could catch you at work. They got you all locked down over there, huh?” 

“Trying to discourage random readers from contacting me here is all,” you said. “There was a problem with that at Brown right when the book first got popular. I don’t think it’d be as much of a problem now but still, administration thought it was smart. Speaking of which, don’t be a shit to my office aide.” 

“Makes sense, I guess,” he said, ignoring your last comment. “Think you can put me on the list of people who are allowed to talk to you? And on the list of people who are allowed to bring you food?” 

“Bring me food?” You frowned. 

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I was hoping I could do that. Like… today. In an hour or so. If you’re not shaping young minds or whatever.” 

“Don’t you have work?” You laughed. 

“New job starts tomorrow,” he said. “And I don’t exactly have a lot of time without Sarah where I’m not at work.” 

“And you want to see me?” 

“No, I figured I’d just call and annoy your secretary as a new hobby…” 

“Office aide.” 

“You free for lunch or not, Goldie?” He said, exasperated. You resisted the urge to laugh. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m free. I have a class gap from 11:30 to 2. I can meet you somewhere…” 

“I’ll just come to you,” he said. “Assuming that a fancy schmancy professor will still eat tamale lady tamales…” 

“OK you could have opened with tamale lady tamales,” you said. “Buried the lead there, Miller.” 

Joel laughed. 

“I’ll give you my number and you can text me where your office is,” he said. “Then I’ll have a way to contact you that isn’t fucking gibberish. See you in two hours.” 

You put his number into your phone and texted him. He responded with a screenshot of your note with the message literally none of those numbers are right which made you laugh. 

It was hard to focus as you taught your next class, checking your watch every few minutes to see just how much time had passed. You were keyed up, stomach tight, and you tried to talk yourself down as you walked half way across campus back to your office. 

It was Joel. Just Joel. Sure, before Friday, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in years but falling back into friendship with him had felt so easy so far. He was safe and comfortable. You’d spent every day with Joel once upon a time. 

But that felt so long ago now. You were different people then. Joel was a jock who pretty much just hung out with you and tried to speed run his way through every hot girl in school. You were a geek who spent her entire life either trailing along behind Joel or with her nose in a book. A lot had changed in the last decade and a half. Joel had a kid. You’d gotten married and divorced. Well, almost divorced. Nothing was finalized yet but you’d stopped wearing your wedding band when you moved to Texas even though it still sat on the ring stand on your bedside table. 

After Friday and Saturday, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to see Joel again. You hadn’t gotten his number and you remembered nothing of trying to put your number in his phone while you were drunk. You weren’t sure if it was going to be a fluke, just a blip on the radar of your lives that had gone on totally disconnected paths for more than a decade, or if this was something that would continue. 

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Losing him the first time had hurt. It might have been the worst thing that had ever happened to you, even worse than losing your mother, than watching your sister sister fall apart in slow motion over the last decade, than your father entirely. Was it something you could survive again? Was it something you’d need to dig back up and talk through with Joel now that you were speaking again? If that was what he needed, was that something you could handle doing? You weren’t sure about any of it. 

But you were already starting to think that you’d go along with anything Joel wanted as long as you got to keep him around this time, just like high school. He’d been the sun and you’d been caught in the gravity of him. You wondered if you’d ever escaped it at all. 

You straightened up your office a bit, not that you’d had much time for things to get too messy. Most things were submitted virtually now, though you insisted on poetry being printed to make sure formatting was maintained, and most of your personal notes were contained to planners and notebooks that were in orderly piles on your desk. You were absently checking your email when there was a knock on the frame of your door and you looked up to see Joel standing there, a foil covered plate in one hand, two glass bottles of Dr. Pepper in the other. 

“Oh my God, is that Dublin Dr. Pepper?” You gaped at him. 

“Technically no,” he said, coming in and setting a bottle down in front of you. “Stopped making it at the Dublin plant years ago but basically the same thing. Hi, by the way.” 

“Hi. And I’ll take basically the same thing,” you said, leaning forward to peer into the hall. “Do me a favor and close the door?” 

He nudged it shut with his foot and you took the bottle, popping it open on the edge of your desk. Joel sat in the chair on the other side of your desk before he followed suit, smirking as he did. 

“I didn’t want witnesses if I broke the desk I’ve had all of a month, OK?” You said. 

“Goldie, I don’t think you could break the desk if you tried,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. You did the same, humming a little in appreciation. You rolled the liquid on your tongue like you would a wine, the bubbles crackling and dancing there before you swallowed it. 

“God, that’s good,” you said. “I can’t remember the last time I had a soda that wasn’t diet…” 

“Christ you sound like a Yankee,” Joel laughed, sitting back in the chair. “That’s a Coke in your hand, darlin’, not a fuckin’ soda.” 

“Oh God,” you groaned and laughed, too. “That was such a hard habit to break! I’d ask my roommate if we had any Cokes, she said no, I’d go in the fridge later and see Diet Pepsi and have a what the fuck moment.” 

“Strange world out there,” Joel smiled slightly, turning the glass bottle that looked so small in his large hands. 

“Are these the tamales?” You asked, nodding at the plate. 

“Oh, shit, yeah,” he said, taking the foil off the plate. The corn husks glistened and you groaned a little. Joel pulled two sets of plastic wrapped silverware out of his pocket and handed you one. “How long’s it been since you had one of these?” 

“I don’t even want to own up to it,” you said, unwrapping the fork and knife. “I’ve basically been on a diet for the last decade of my life, these look incredible.” 

You wheeled your office chair around the desk and sat next to Joel before peeling back a husk and cutting the end off with your fork and taking a bite. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you slumped back in the chair with a satisfied moan. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“That good, huh?” Joel laughed.You just nodded, mouth full, and sat up to cut off another bite before you even swallowed the first one. “Diet for 10 years?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, covering your mouth with your hand until you could swallow. “There was the book tour, they wanted me to look a certain way. And… well, my husband has a type so…” 

“Fuck that guy,” Joel said, opening another tamale and taking a bite of it. You rolled your eyes a little. “Mean it, fuck that and fuck him.” 

“Oh, so you don’t have a type?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I seem to remember a very distinctive type in high school…” 

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Pretty, for sure,” you said, teasing a little. “You definitely seemed to be a bit of a boobs man…” 

“If I were with someone I sure as shit wouldn’t make them fucking diet to be my type,” he cut you off. “He’s a fucking idiot, Goldie.” 

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it really is,” you waved him off. 

“No, I’m really not,” he replied. “If we’d been talkin’ I’d have fuckin’ come to Rhode Island and kicked his sorry ass.” 

“Joel,” you rolled your eyes. 

“What?” He asked. “I would’ve. And he’d fuckin’ deserve it.” 

“Anyway,” you said, cutting off another chunk of tamale. “You’ve got a new job starting tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s one that I’m actually lookin’ forward to, too. Get to be a little more creative…” 

“You don’t normally get to be creative?” You frowned. 

He scoffed. 

“Not on any of the big shit,” he said. “Owners and managers get to do that. They toss me the smaller projects here and there to plan and run, this one is some owner’s suite remodel. Doin’ the bathroom, fancy fucking closet, that kind of shit. They’re letting me run it so I’ll shut up about never getting to do the fun stuff.” 

“How long have you been working there?” You asked. 

“Since I was 20,” he said. “So… fuck, 13 years? Jesus, I’m getting old…” 

“And they’re not letting you do the creative stuff?” You asked, brows raised. 

“I’m apparently ‘too valuable’ runnin’ the crew,” he used air quotes. “They throw a few of these little jobs to me every year but mostly I just make sure shit goes right on site for bigger jobs. Get it all done on time, all that.” 

“Do you like doing that?” You asked. 

“Not really.” 

“OK,” you frowned. “So why are you still there?” 

“Well, mostly because I tried paying my mortgage once with dreams and they told me to fuck off,” he said dryly and you glared at him. 

“You know what I mean,” you said, cutting off a chunk of his tamale. 

“Hey!” 

“Shove it,” you popped it in your mouth before he could take it back. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been doing that work for a while is what I mean, I’m sure somewhere else would hire you and you could do the parts of it you liked.” 

“What I really want is to start my own company,” he said. “Well, what I really want is to play music but that ship’s sailed. Realistically, I’d like to start my own company. I think I could make some really cool shit if I had the chance.” 

“So do it,” you shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say,” he scoffed. “What, you just write your fuckin’ book?” 

“No,” you said. “It took a lot of work and editing and rewriting and I’m not sure I’ll ever do it again but I did it. You can do it.” 

“What do you mean you’re not sure you’ll ever do it again?” He frowned. “Thought I saw somethin’ about you writing another one.” 

You looked at him for a moment, frowning a little, fork frozen over the plate. You were contracted for another book but that wasn’t something that had made national news, just an item in some industry publications after the press release from the publisher. 

Why would Joel know that?

“What?” He asked. “Why are you starin’ at me?” 

“Oh,” you said. “Just got something on your face…” You dipped your fork into some of the drippings on the plate before smearing it on Joel’s cheek. “Just there, nothing crazy.” 

He pursed his lips and looked like he was struggling not to laugh. 

“You’re the worst person I know,” he said, wiping his face with a tissue from the box on your desk.

You smirked, sitting back in your chair and putting your legging-clad legs in his lap, the way you used to sit with him on the couch back when you were teenagers. 

“I know.” 

“I’m serious though,” he said, the hand not holding the fork going around your calf just like it always had. “What do you mean you might never do it again?” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, peeling the husk off another tamale and cutting off a bite of it. “I don’t know that I have another story to tell. I’ve been trying to tell another one and I just… haven’t found one. I think I had one good story in me and I told it. That’s the end.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Joel said. 

“It’s really not,” you shrugged. “When I wrote the first one it just kind of flowed. At least the first draft did. I wrote it in about six months after my mom died and Gale…” 

“Brad.” 

You glared at him. 

“Gale,” you repeated. “Edited it and workshopped it with me.” 

“Oh I’m sure he was a fuckin’ natural at that,” Joel said, voice dripping in sarcasm. You glared at him. “What, you’re telling me I’m wrong? I don’t think I am…”

“He was well equipped for the job,” you allowed. “And yeah, it took a lot of edits and rewrites before it was ready to even start trying to show to agents, it was years of work… Who would I do that with now? I don’t know that I can do it by myself…” 

“Do it with your publisher and shit,” Joel said. “Come on, don’t tell me that jackass is what’s holding you back…” 

“It’s not just that. I really don’t know that I have anything else to say. And even if I did…” you took a deep breath. You’d never said this aloud, not even to your agent. “If I did, what if it’s not as good?” 

Joel waved you off. 

“Of course it’d be as good, the fuck are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about the fact that everyone freaked the fuck out about the fact that my ‘debut novel,’” you put the words in air quotes, “was so brilliant and shit, what if I never write anything better? What if everything I ever make after this is a let down? What if I never do anything good again? Everyone who took a risk on me, everyone who read my first book, everyone who ever thought I could do something will be let down by it. Jesus, one reviewer said it was the best debut novel since To Kill a Mockingbird, how the fuck am I supposed to live up to that? Starting to understand why Harper Lee didn’t publish anything else for decades…” 

 “Goldie,” Joel said gently. “I’m sure you’d write something great.”

You poked at your tamale, staring at it as you did. 

“What if the only great thing I ever made was great because of him?” You asked quietly, eyes darting to Joel for a second before looking back at the plate. “What if it was just fine when it came from me and it only became what it became because of him?” 

“Anything you’d write would be great, got nothing to do with fuckin’ Brad,” he said. “Not sure you can write something that’s not great.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Joel, you read the articles I wrote for the school paper,” you said. “I don’t think you’re a fair judge.” 

“And your lit mag stuff,” he said defensively. “Look, I’m not a genius or anything but I’m smart enough to know when something’s great and you’re great, alright?” 

“Yeah, well…” you nudged his leg with your knee. “So are you.” 

He just looked at you for a moment until you frowned. 

“What?” 

He leaned forward with his fork, smearing some tamale drippings on the tip of your nose.

“Got something right… there.” 

You laughed and he squeezed your calf and you cleaned your face before you went back to focusing on the food and life outside of your broader ambitions. Before what felt like too long there was a knock on your door and Alyssa poked her head in. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize you had company,” she smiled, her eyes drifting to where your legs were still in Joel’s lap. “I was just going to put a note on your desk, I figured you’d be at your next class already. Have you written your midterm yet?” 

“Not yet,” you said, looking at your watch and you realized it was far later than you realized and you had less than 10 minutes to walk to your next class. “Shit, I have to go!” 

Joel released your leg from his hold and you scrambled to collect your things as Joel cleaned up the remains of lunch. 

“If you wanted to write midterms together,” Alyssa said as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Maybe next week?” 

“Sure,” you said, looking around at your desk and grabbing your gold notebook before standing next to Joel. “Email me?” 

“Yup,” she smiled, looking Joel up and down. “Absolutely will. Hi.” 

“Hi,” he said, smiling a little. You looked between them and fought the urge to groan. She was just Joel’s type. 

“Alright, some of us have to go teach,” you said. “Out of my office so I can lock up.” 

You ushered them both into the hall. 

“Have fun teaching,” Alyssa waved, giving Joel a last look before heading to her office a few doors down from yours. 

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you said, taking Joel’s hand and pulling him along behind you before he could start gawking at her and then you were really late for school. “See you later…” 

“What was that about?” Joel laughed as you spilled out into the hall that was tight with the press of students. 

“I know your type,” you said. “And I don’t have time to wait for you to be done doing your thing…” 

“My ‘thing?’ And you know my type?” He asked, brows raised. “Really? Well, in that case…” 

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. 

“I came by to see you, for the record,” he said. “And apparently feed you properly since you aren’t gonna do it yourself…” 

“Thank you,” you said, sincerely. “That was really good. And it was really nice, hanging out with you.” 

“It was good to hang out with you, too,” he said, smiling a little, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Should let you get to class though. Those minds aren’t gonna shape themselves. And I have your actual number now, not the fuckin’ hieroglyphics you tried to leave me Friday…” 

“And I have yours,” you smiled back. “But I do have to go…” 

“Right,” he said, leaning in and pulling you into a hug and holding you close for a second. He was warm and his chest was firm and there was something about the way his arms fit around you that was so all encompassing you were certain that you belonged there with him. That, somewhere in the universe, the root of you both had grown together and separated just to find each other again. He pulled back. “Don’t let those college kids give you too much trouble.” 

“I won’t,” you said. “Don’t let Sarah give you shit.” 

“Oh, I will,” he said. “Can’t help it. Bye, Goldie.” 

You smiled.

“Bye, Joel.” 

You were three minutes late to class. You didn’t care. 

When you got home, you went to one of the boxes you hadn’t unpacked yet, one that sat in the  extra bedroom that you hadn’t found a use for yet. You knew exactly which box, the one filled with things you only looked at when you were feeling especially strong or particularly weak. You sifted through old notebooks, past one of Joel’s faded band t-shirts that you’d swiped at his house when Tommy had knocked a cup of Kool-aid over when you were wearing a white shirt and Mrs. Miller and scrambled to get your top in the wash to get the stain out and then you’d never given it back, down to the shoebox of photos. You pulled it out and looked through them. Joel at 16, a confused look on his face as he lay on the wheeled contraption he used for sliding easily under his truck and you surprised him with camera, a splotch of grease on his cheek. You, 17, in Joel’s letterman that was big on him so it was massive on you, sleeves shoved up around your forearms as you stuck your tongue out at the camera. The two of you, 16, sitting on opposite sides of a restaurant booth, your legs stretched out on the benches, a basket of fries and a milkshake between you. You were flashing a peace sign at the camera and Joel was looking at you, a soft smile on his face. 

It was easy to remember what friendship with Joel had been. It would be so easy to fall back into it. It felt like you were always supposed to be this way, lives so intertwined they were built on the same foundation. It had seemed an impossible thing, to blow it all apart. You’d loved it then. You missed it now. But it had blown apart and you weren’t sure you could survive losing it again. 

You sighed, flipping to the back of the box to the photos from prom night. Your mom had sent them to you after you’d moved to Rhode Island and they’d languished at the photo lab for weeks. There was a simple note: “Thought you might want these,” a little heart drawn at the end. 

You found the picture of the two of you together, your hand on his chest, his arm around your waist. You were looking up into his eyes and he was looking into yours, a small smile on his face, just enough for the beginnings of his dimple to show. You looked at it for a while before you signed, packing everything else away and moving to your office, propping the photo against your computer as you sat down to write. 

***

Sarah had been in rare form that night. Very skeptical about why she needed to do homework at all and trying to logic her way out of needing to do it for as long as she possibly could. 

“Kiddo, if you just sat down and did it, you’d be done by now,” Joel had groaned at one point. 

“But if I just didn’t do it, I’d be done by now, too,” she replied. 

He took a deep breath. Sometimes, this girl… 

“Not on the table, Baby Girl,” he said. “You can either do your homework now and have time to watch TV before bed or you can not do your homework and fight me on it, not watch TV and get up early tomorrow to finish your homework. Up to you.” 

She groaned, picking up her pencil, bouncing her leg impatiently under the dinner table. Joel wasn’t sure who was happier when the damn worksheets were done, him or his daughter.

Once Joel was certain Sarah was asleep, he went to the back of his closet and found the box that he kept stashed away. He didn’t have to look far, the two copies of your book right on top. One was signed. He didn’t open that one, just looked at it now and then, held it when he wanted to touch something you’d touched once. 

The other had a worn spot on the spine, where the structure of the book had cracked and bent enough times because he’d tried to read it dozens of times but could never bring himself to go past the first page. 

He liked the cover of it, certain that you’d had a hand in picking it. It was simple, an orange sun with a gilded flower in front of it, the title, Halcyon, in bold letters below the abstract image. Joel flipped past the pages of praise, the title page, the table of contents, the forward written by fucking Brad. He turned until he got to the words that were yours. He knew they were yours, he recognized the voice of you, even on paper. No matter what you said, there wasn’t an ounce of Brad there. At least, not on that page.

“The sun in Texas was hot in summer,” you’d written, “melting ice cream and asphalt in equal measure. But it was the heat of his palm that made my cheeks burn…” 

He closed the book, looking at the back cover with your picture on it. Your arms were folded so that one was in front of you, the other vertical alongside your face. Your gaze was intense, a knowing smile on your lips, as though you were staring at him, teasing him, tempting him. “The answers are all here, Joel,” your picture said. “If you could just make yourself read it, you’d know.” 

He put the book down and got his phone out of his pocket, finding your number in his contacts. 

You answered on the second ring. 

“Oh my God, you’re so demanding,” you sighed in faux exasperation. 

Joel laughed. 

“I know, I’m so fucking needy, don’t know how you stand me.” 

You laughed back. 

“What’s up?” 

“Been thinking,” he began. 

“You?” You said. “Really?” 

“Shut up.”

You giggled. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “Feel free to tell me to kick rocks but… Sounds like neither of our lives have exactly gone the way we’ve wanted them to.” 

“You mean you didn’t plan on being a single dad and I didn’t plan on being divorced at 32?” You gasped. “Color me shocked!” 

“We were always good at holding each other accountable,” he said, ignoring you. “Hell, you’re the only reason I graduated high school…” 

“And you’re the only reason I started at the school paper,” you said. Joel smiled at that, the memory of standing outside the newspaper office while you talked to the teacher so you couldn’t back out. 

“Right,” he said. “Well… what if we did that now?” 

“Now?” He could hear you frowning through the phone. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” he said. “Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together? You make me better, always have…” 

“You, too,” you said quietly but you at least sounded serious now. 

“When are you supposed to have your next book done?” He asked. “Assuming there’s a contract with a deadline for that shit, right?” 

“End of next year,” you sighed. 

“Great,” Joel said. “Alright, let’s give ourselves to the end of next year to set ourselves straight. You finish your book, whatever else you want to get done…” 

“Finalize my divorce,” you said. 

“That’s a good one,” Joel said. “I’ll see about starting my own business…” 

“And having a stable relationship?” You asked. 

“Sounds like a good goal,” he answered, his stomach twisting a bit at that. “What do you say? We come up with a list of shit and go from there? You know we’re better when we’re on a team than when we’re not.” 

You were quiet for a moment. 

“Yeah,” you said eventually. “Yeah, let’s do it.” 

Joel smiled a little, looking down at the box, the cover of your book looking back at him. 

“It’s a deal,” he said. “We’ve got this, Goldie.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Hell yeah we do.”

Next Chapter

A/N: So sorry for the long wait on this! Should be weekly updates from here out for a while, promise <3

Thank you thank you thank you for reading! I'm so excited for what's coming up for these two, I just love how they love each other and yes. I can't wait to explore it all with you.

Thank you for being here! Love you!

[icycoldninja]

Hi !! Could I request something with jealous or overprotective Vergil? If youd be interested in writing anything like that, but no worries if not!! Love your work! 🌻💖

Fear not, I love writing stuff like this. Thank you so much for requesting, hope you have a great day. Enjoy!

Jealous of his brother (Jealous!Vergil x Reader)

Vergil had a problem that he refused to talk about: he got insanely jealous whenever you were around Dante. He couldn't, and refused to, explain why he felt this way, but he did.

Maybe it was because Dante was so charismatic and easy to talk to, and he wasn't. Maybe it was because Dante didn't look as intimidating as he did, or maybe it was because Dante had the confidence to do things Vergil wouldn't even dream of doing.

Whatever the reason was, it made Vergil very insecure and envious of Dante whenever he saw the two of you together--just watching you greet his brother made his blood boil. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it, except sit and fume in silence, as he was doing right now, while he watched you and Dante chat about the latter's experience during a recent mission.

"...Yeah, then one of those Hell Caina bastards came stunblin' towards me, so I leaped outta the way like this-" Dante did a backflip, pulled his pistols out, and landed on the ground with his guns extended. "Then I pulled the trigger and ripped 'em to shreds!"

"Wow, nice!" You praised, clapping. From over in his seat, Vergil scoffed. Like that was so impressive, a stupid backflip. He could do a triple-spin mid-air! "That's pretty cool, you think you could teach me to do that sometime?" You asked, making Vergil's internal temperature rise even further.

"Love to. How bout this weekend?" Dante replied. When you nodded, Vergil stiffened like a board and clenched his fists.

"Sounds great," You responded, beaming. "I'll see you then. Bye." Dante winked at you, then walked off, presumably to partake in whatever debauchery he usually did. Vergil, on the other hand, busied himself with more noble goals: following you down the streets to your shared home. Once you had set foot through, closed, and locked the door, Vergil circled round to the back of the house, and from there, opened a portal with the Yamato because he never took his keys. He stepped through it and emerged in your living room, where you were reading a book.

"Y/N." His voice suddenly echoing from the corner startled you, but you quickly composed yourself.

"Hey Verg," You responded, setting down your book and standing up to hug him. Vergil accepted your embrace as stiffly as he always did, but something felt off this time. He appeared even more tense than usual, a sign that something was bothering him. "You alright?" You asked, gently rubbing circles into his back.

"...No," Vergil admitted, after a long pause. "No, I am not."

"What's wrong?"

"I...overheard you talking to Dante, earlier," Vergil confessed, sighing and wrapping his arms around you. "I...suppose...I got....jealous."

"What? Jealous? You?" You giggled, sinking deeper into his hug, flattered by the fact that he would feel jealous of someone because of you. "Why?"

"I...well...I was envious of Dante...." Vergil cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing, "Because he...because you....seemed so...comfortable around him." You looked up at him, eyes widening.

"Really?" You asked, amazed. "You got jealous...because I was getting along with Dante?" Vergil let out a low grumble and looked away, his pale cheeks beginning to tint pink. You grinned and hugged him again, as tight as you could. "Idiot! Like Dante could ever replace you! We might be friends, but that's it! Nothing more." You reached up, cupped his check, and directed his gaze down to you. "No matter what, I'm always gonna love you, Verg. You're my favorite Sparda twin." Vergil's expression softened at these words, and he leaned down to place a brief kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you, Y/N. I am thankful for the affirmation." Vergil could now breathe easier, now that he knew his jealousy was unfounded and that you would always choose him over anyone else. The man of motivation was even more motivated now that he knew he was your favorite son of Sparda. Take that, Dante!

[familyvideostevie]

Happy Friday :) Would it be okay to request something where the kids try to play matchmaker for Steve with the reader? Maybe he’s been pretty mopey and Dustin thinks a certain girl he knows can fix that but it’s just absolute chaos between the kids trying to make it happen but ends super fluffy and happy for Steve.

you requested this ages and ages ago, so thank you for your patience! it's less chaos and more the start of something sweet, hope you like! |fem!reader, fluff, 1.7k

"If you sigh one more time I think I'm going to punch you," Dustin groans. "Robin, can't you do something about this?" The boy throws his hands up in the air and Robin laughs. Steve feels his scowl deepen.

"No," she says. "Even though I am by far the smartest person you know, even I don't have a solution for whatever Debby Downer shit Steve's got going on." She flicks his neck as she walks by and Steve half-heartedly swats her away.

"C'mon," he mumbles, chin in his hands on the Family Video counter. The store has been dead, not a single customer in over an hour, and it's given him time to mope about his never-ending problem: He can't get a girl.

It's not just that, though, and he knows it. Robin knows it, too, though she doesn't bring it up. He's lonely. He can't seem to find anyone seriously interested in him beyond a few nights of fun, courtesy of his long-gone high school reputation. But now he's years away from that and he's tired of it. He just wants someone to feel kind of silly over. To laugh with and drive around town with and to love.

"You could date him," Dustin says, snapping Steve back to the dusty air of his reality. Robin makes retching noises.

"No, I could not," she sneers. Steve sighs again.

"There! Again!" Dustin winds up his fist and Steve only raises an eyebrow. Then the kid sighs and rests his own arms on the counter across from Steve. Damn, the kid is getting tall. "Alright, I'm going to speak to you man to man, Harrington," Dustin says.

"Oh, this outta be good," Steve mutters, shaking his head a little. He's had enough advice from 14-year-olds, thanks.

Dustin ignores him but Robin snickers somewhere in the stacks. "You are a sad, single dude," he says. Steve doesn't have the energy to fight it. "You're my friend, and your sad sack attitude is messing up our vibe. Okay?" Steve blinks, oddly touched. "And I don't want you to be sad forever. So I'm going to help you."

"Great," Steve deadpans. But Dustin sports what can only be called his scheming face. "You gonna set me up, or something?"

The kid snaps his fingers. "Exactly, Steve. And you call yourself slow!" Steve rolls his eyes.

"I don't think we have the same taste in girls, dude." Steve rarely allows himself to think about Henderson has snagged and kept a girl better than he ever could.

"Doesn't matter. I already know who we're going to set you up with. You know the girl who works at the arcade?"

Steve's stomach twists. Oh, yeah, he knows. It's you. He feels his cheeks heat and he fights to keep a straight face. He's only seen you a few times, talked to you maybe twice. You always seem to be working when he drops off or picks up the little shits he carts around. You're real pretty and he's almost positive you didn't grow up here, since you don't seem to know him at all.

"Maybe," he says, evenly. Dustin grins like a shark and starts to bounce on the balls of his feet.

"Gotcha! You do know her." Steve straightens and turns away from Dustin to futz with the computer but the kid follows him. "Oh, and you like her."

"I don't know her," Steve mumbles, and he knows he's lost by admitting even that much. He doesn't know you, that's true. He only knows your name because he saw it on your uniform. But he knows you're pretty and you're kind and part of him does want to get to know you. But won't he just fuck that up, too?

But Dustin is like a dog with a bone. "Well, lucky for you, the kids you call shitheads? Well, we know her. And because I know you're not exactly the worst guy in the world --"

"Gee, thanks," Steve says.

"-- I'll get the whole party to help this little operation get off the ground. All you gotta do is, y'know, charm her."

Robin bursts into laughter somewhere in the Horror section. "Knock it off!" Steve calls. "I'm plenty charming. But, sorry Henderson, I'm not letting you set me up."

Dustin crosses his arms. "Don't be a coward, Steve." The flutter he felt at the mention of you sours into the familiar self-loathing he's stewed in for who knows how long. What's the point in trying when he knows he'll just strike out? And humiliate himself in front of everyone and their mother in the arcade, no less?

"I'm not interested, dipshit, do you hear me?" Dustin smacks his palms on the counter. Steve jumps.

"Just fucking come to the arcade, Steve," Dustin says. His tone leaves no room for argument. In fact, Steve isn't sure he's ever heard him this serious.

"I don't think you're allowed to say fuck, dude." Dustin raises his middle finger slowly and mouths Fuck you. Steve sighs.

"When?" he says, and Dustin cheers.

When turns out to be the next night. Steve is on pick-up duty for Dustin, Max, and Lucas. He pulls into the empty parking lot at 9:45 and wonders how the hell he's going to charm you in 15 minutes with three teenagers badgering him to stop at the drive-thru on the way home like they always do.

"This is so stupid," he says to himself as he turns off the car. He tries to see inside the arcade but the combination of the tinted windows and the smattering of lights from the games means he can't really make anything out. Are you there? he wonders. What are you doing right now? Are you tired after a long shift? Will you smile when he walks in?

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and decides he has nothing left to lose. What's the worst that could happen, anyway? Maybe you don't even remember him. Maybe you already have a boyfriend. All of the worrying gets him from his car to the front door and before he knows it he's swinging it open.

It's empty. There is literally no one inside. No cheers or groans of kids, no chatter, no slurping of sodas or running round. Nothing. It's only the flash of the various games and a few artificial sounds and...you.

There you are, leaning on your elbows, inspecting your nails. "Just so you know, we're closing in about 15 minutes," you drone, customer service voice firmly in place as you don't bother looking up.

Steve lets himself look for a few seconds. You're so pretty, even in the dim lighting of the arcade. It makes his chest hurt and his throat dry.

"Uh," he says. Great start, Steve. "I'm looking for some kids?" You look up sharply and once you see him your face sharpens and your mouth stretches into a small smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Oh, hi," you say, somewhat softly, and Steve feels his confidence return from wherever it was hiding. He sticks one hand in his pocket and holds the other out to an approximation of Dustin's height.

"Three of 'em? Bout this high? Mouthy, annoying, loud." You laugh.

"That describes most of the kids who come through here," you tell him. But then your smile turns to a concerned twist. "But I know which ones belong to you. Dustin, Max, and Lucas, right?" Steve nods. Are they hiding somewhere, or something? He's going to give them an earful in the car.

"That's them," he says. "They're probably goofing around somewhere, or something." But your frown doesn't fade.

"No, Steve," you say, and he swears his blood sings when you say his name. You know his name! Why do you know his name? "They left like, an hour ago."

"What?" he says, like an idiot.

"Eddie Munson came to get them, I think. He's the one with the van, right?" Steve nods, mouth open in shock.

"Those fuckers," he says. "They set me up!" You burst into laughter and he realizes that he is being the opposite of charming right now. God, you're pretty, he thinks.

"Why did they do that?" you ask. Steve can feel the tension returning to his temples. He's digging his own grave, yet again. That's why he considers lying, for just a second, but what's he got to lose?

"They uh, wanted us to meet," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He hopes his flush isn't visible.

"But we have met," you tell him. "Kind of." It's you who looks shy, now. "I mean, I know your name because the kids talk about you all the time. And we're talked a few times?" Your voice goes up at the end like you're not sure he even remembers. As if he could forget talking to you.

"You're right," Steve says. He tries his best for a casual grin, which seems to work since you smile back at him. He holds out his hand and you stare at it for a second before shaking it. You have soft hands. "But now it's official." He says your name for the first time and his palm tingles when you release it.

He wonders if you can see what's going on here. That a bunch of punk teenagers are trying to set you guys up like this is a rom com, or something. But you don't ask anymore questions. Steve figures that's a good sign.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asks. "Since you're closing, and all." He didn't see another car in the parking lot.

"I walk," you say. "It's only a few blocks." Steve frowns. It's chilly tonight, and even if you do this all the time, he knows what kind of shit can be hiding in the dark of Hawkins.

"I'll drive you," he says. "Only if you want." You seem to hesitate for a second before nodding.

"Okay, Steve," you say, and smile. Steve doesn't bother to hide his answering grin. It feels like a win. It feels like more than that, really. It feels like the start of something.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[badchoicesworld]

hello !! i love the way you write :] !! i was just wonderin if you do requests for 42!Miles ? it's no problem if you dont but if you do id be so grateful for one with a masc reader :'D reader is an artist like miles or could maybe be his spiderman as well ? thank you !

miles 42 w/ an artistic spider-reader !

earth 42 miles x masc!reader

i’ll be the first to admit that i was a lil stumped since we don’t know all too much about wiles, but i did some digging and figured he’s gonna be around 17, vigilante and there’s a lot of things in his design that helped me figure out his personality (i think, anyway. please for the love of god don’t let my education be in vain)

wasn’t sure if you wanted platonic, general shit or romance so i just sprinkled a bit of everything in this because we need more masc fanfiction out there (fun fact, i write fanfiction but i do not read it)

if this is just shit lemme know and i’ll go missing <3

warnings: none

pairing: miles 42 x masc!reader

requests: OPEN RAAHH

it was so fucking hard to find a half decent cap of this man

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

AIGHT if you’re to become earth 42 spiderman then it’s likely under the same circumstances as miles 1610. or, who knows, maybe there’s another radioactive spider hanging about somewhere that bit you

REGARDLESS imma go ahead and say that this bite is gonna be a recent thing, otherwise NYC wouldn’t be in such a state

unless you just like people to suffer idk

you and miles are friends before the bite, can’t imagine he tolerates a lot of people now with all the stuff he has on his mind so you’re a long time friend, maybe more

miles is the guy you go to straight away with this, if you’ve discovered you have these incredible powers and suddenly heightened senses

just imagine the revelation when you realise what this can mean for the world

spider-man wasn’t a thing in this dimension, so you’re a completely new beacon of hope

earth-42, if you haven’t seen the test animation, seems pretty corrupt and fucked

miles and uncle aaron seem to be a vigilante pair that steal things like medicine for hospitals, maybe because the state of the world just means they’re short of resources, or it’s being led by a really disgusting government

miles 42 is a good guy . you cant change my mind

miles has been the prowler for however many years at this stage, uncle aaron being his right hand man in operations

regardless of how close the two of you are, this is something that he’s kept hidden from you if he can help it

but all of that is just recklessly discarded when he realised you can help, it’s new hope, and he’s desperate

he’s still incredibly discreet when talking about it, especially when you two are in his home

the last thing he wants is to get his mother involved, that woman means the world to him and he’d die before she was exposed to this stuff

but let’s assume you two take on this role together, young vigilantes that have to make things in the world right

it’s a secret that you two have sworn up and down about never telling another soul, no matter what

miles is the prowler and you’re spider-man, go make a difference

while you guys are vigilantes together, you are still kids. minors, whatever

so, yeah, you do still get to go to school and live the best of both worlds if you’d like to

you take the same art class together, you’re both acing tf outta it because i said so

but let’s be honest, miles 42 is way more stern and focused, he might have been like the other miles we know at some point, but not anymore

his design is all sharp and rigid, hatched- this is a reflection of his personality

you’ve definitely helped to instil some hope in him, though

you can see him soften up every once in a while, and god knows he loves his mum, we love to see it

probably the most domestic thing you guys will get to experience is designing your suits together. naturally, all spider-people are stupidly smart so you can actually contribute to tech design and build things to execute missions more effectively and efficiently

even if you two are boyfriends, things just seem so tense all of the time in that world

unfortunately, earth-42 is a place where you have to have eyes in the back of your head, but you two get to act as that for each other so you don’t constantly have to be looking over your shoulders paranoid

granted, it’s a tough role

new york is in ruins thanks to the unfortunate circumstances, but your dimension has a spider-man now, hopefully you can help the world heal

actual missions can get intense at the drop of a hat

prowler is all about stealth, so recon missions have to be done with serious precision and there is no room for mistakes

especially when it comes to stealing resources for the people, miles isn’t physically willing to let these things sit idle and go to waste when people are dying

it’s life or death, you two have to rely on each other whole heartedly

since miles doesn’t have his own webs, he relies on ropes and harness, but it all changes after you’ve gotten bitten

with your abilities, you two are able to move to much faster and fluently while fleeing a scene, it’s impressive

being caught isn’t nearly as risky thanks to your spider senses

he’s not vocal about it, but miles appreciates you so much

i don’t think that he’s gonna be some overly protective guy when he knows you can protect yourself, that’s just wasted energy and honestly insulting of him

again, even if you are together

he loves you and cares about your safety, you’re the man who’s helping him make the world a better place

he’ll worry if situations become dire, but he TRUSTS that you’ll be okay

you’ve got his back and he’s got yours

when all’s said and done, if something ever goes south, spider-man always gets back up

you’ll lick your wounds (tend to them properly but very reluctantly because you all know there’s so few resources)

probably relies on really gentle words of affirmation at the end of the day, otherwise you two wouldn’t cope

those nights are when he’ll use spanish terms of endearment (masculine), he doesn’t want you to feel neglected in a way

you’ll tuck away your suits together once the days come to an end and silently swear to secrecy once again, before the weight of being teenage vigilantes together takes over and you collapse onto the nearest surface together

he’d be a fool to not feel safe in his own home, especially with you and his mother in it (you too aaron, welcome back)

bonus:

before the world turned upside down, you and him used to get caught all of the time tagging different places with graffiti, Mr Morales was not pleased

if you ever get those peaceful moments of bliss amidst the chaos, your ability to climb walls is really helpful when spray painting up high

you can see just the faintest trace of the old miles, the artist who was completely doe eyed about the future

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

DID I SLAY ? PLE

[jelicoxoxo]

TWST CHARACTERS AS CATS

Summary: Your favorite had embarrassingly made a mistake in potionology class, which ultimately resulted in them turning into a cat! They hunt you down to care for them, escaping their usual routine for the day.

Warnings: N/A. Can be seen platonic or romantic, OC friendly. No proofread cause i’ll wanna delete it. Floyd’s might be rushed

A/N: i’m EXHAUSTED oh my god.

————

(Heartslabyul) (Savanaclaw) (Octavinelle) (Scarabia) (Pomefiore) (Ignihyde) (Diasomnia)

————

Azul Ashengrotto

- The first and last(not) time he’ll ever be your study partner.

- You had accidentally put in cats fur instead of moose fur, how you mistaken the two? we’ll never know.

-He turned into a persian cat by the way, long fluffy fur.

- But he definitely made it YOUR problem. Following you around with a loud meow whenever he didn’t get the attention he wanted, sneaking INTO your bag and leaving cat fur on literally everything, and went out of his way to flick his tail under your nose while you ate your lunch.

-You practically breathed Azul that day, and there was no escape, not since now he could track you down himself with that new nose of his.

-The only time he ever left was to go check on Mostro Lounge, he is a busy man after all! But the twins brought him right back to you, claiming they couldn’t understand his chattering and meowing (they didn’t care*)

- So you where stuck with cat Azul. Stuck with this literal menace that goes out of his way to irritate you for his amusement.

-HAATTEESSS air jail and getting sprayed with water(ironically). It’s pretty much the only things that’ll get him to stop, but he’ll fuss and fuss about it.

-don’t give him catnip he’ll probably lose his shit.

-He turned back right beside you, then got up and left without a single word, to embarrassed to even say anything to you.

-will ignore you if you try to bring it up

Jade Leech

- Mischievous but less destructive.

- Literally nobody knows how it happened, nobody. But what you do know is that he showed up at your door and KICKED the bottom of the door till you answered

-you know those videos of the cats kicking with their hind legs as a way to knock? yeah thats him

- it was so loud too, like it genuinely scared you so bad you didn’t even wanna open the door.

-just for this long, tall, and lanky siamese cat to walk right in like he paid bills, looking back at you and meowing as if to ask “are you coming?” before he continued further into your space.

-He enjoys sitting on your desk, watching you continue your routine and occasionally including him in it.

-If you wear makeup, he’ll maybe let you pretend to put it on him using an old makeup brush. Will paw at your hand to get you to do it again, purring and closing his eyes for the “eyeshadow”

-such a sweetheart (when he isn’t scratching the hell outta your furniture and hiding your shoes/socks)

-Suddenly your new cat friend left, and the knock at your door was Jade as his normal self pretending that nothing had happened.

-Still pretends to have no idea what you’re talking about when you speak of the cat that never returned.

Floyd Leech

- By far the hardest to care for and watch, dare I say worse than ace.

- Floyd wasn’t really at fault for the incident, but i wont say he was completely a victim either. He was so irritated until he saw you, suddenly not so hissy anymore.

-This boy immediate went with you wherever you went, and did not care about whatever Azul had planned that day. I mean, he needs time with his favorite shrimpy doesn’t he?

- He likes to slap you if he sees you asleep or focused on anything but him.

- Also likes to sit on your laptop while you’re using it, as well as anything you’re writing on.

- Sometimes he’ll knock a glass or two off the shelves, tables, and counters. Or maybe even scratch up your sofa in a spot you’ll only ever notice weeks later.

- don’t try bathing him, he’ll despise you the rest of the day. To him, having heavy wet fur is just not enjoyable, actually he hates it(ironically x2).

-and oh you thought his mood swings would stop as a cat??? Oh no baby it gets worse

-one minute he’s rubbing his face against your arm, the next he’s turning around and biting it.

- Him turning back wasn’t really anything special, but he wasn’t to fond of his little “day off” being taken out of his paycheck

———

It is 4am I’m going back to sleep

[ofstoriesandstardust]

changes (j.h.s.)

a/n: this is the first part of my college!AU. not much happens yet, but things are only just beginning with these two! let me know you're thoughts so far!

part of second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

folks who wanted to be tagged: @memeorydotcom @djs8891

warnings: college!AU, javynat/icemav, swearing

word count: 2.7k

You slip into the classroom, smiling at Pete as he logs in to the computer. “Hey Pete.” 

He glances up at you from the screen, returning your smile as you saddle up into the first row of seats in the lecture hall. “Hey kid, I haven’t seen you in a few weeks. How was the last bit of your summer?” 

You shrug, tugging your bag off into the chair next to you. “Pretty good. Quiet. How was your trip to Italy with Tom?” 

“Pretty good. Nice to get away from the work and hustle-bustle of his job. Definitely don’t miss the paperwork, that’s for sure.” You both laugh lightly, as the door to the classroom open again, a few boys you recognize from the football team filtering in. “I was surprised to see you on my roster for this class. Didn’t you already fulfill the requirements for this?” 

You shrug, pulling your laptop out as you finally sit down. “Yeah, but I need a couple more extra credits to stay a full-time student to keep my scholarship and you know I love taking your classes as it is. Might be one of my last chances to do so.” 

He tilts his head in acknowledgement as the door opens again. “Remind me after class that I wanted to talk to you about what you’re planning for post-grad.” 

You quirk an eyebrow. “Why?” 

He huffs out a laugh, collecting his papers. “I might have something for you.” The room has slowly begun to fill up as the two of you have chatted, meaning class is just about ready to start. Pete hangs by the front podium, letting everyone get settled. 

Your eyes glance over your computer screen at the non-existent Canvas page, meaning Pete has yet to publish it. The papers in his hands are what you suspect are copies of the syllabus he probably finished over breakfast with Tom this morning. Typical. 

“...dude, this is going to be such an easy credit, I’m telling you.” One of the men behind you says. “He’s just Bradshaw’s quirky godfather. You just gotta say something nice about the Navy and he’ll give you an A.” 

You snort, shaking your head at Bradley feeding his athlete friends with lies about his godfather’s class. You had taken enough of Pete’s classes to know that retired decorated Naval aviator or not, Admiral husband or not, Pete welcomed critical and open discussion of the United States military’s global engagement. Encouraged it, even. 

One of the men behind you sighs and you hear him lean back in his chair. “All I need is an easy A. Gonna skate through this class no problem.” 

“Shit, I forgot my pen. Jake, do you have one?” 

“Javy, I don’t even have a notebook. What makes you think I have a pen?” 

“Reuben?” 

“Sorry Javy, you’re straight shit outta luck. I only have one for myself.” 

The man, Javy, groans. “Fuck me.” 

“Pretty sure Natasha did just that last night based on the- ow.” 

“Hey, psst. You, girl in the front.” You startle, turning around to face the boys. “You got a pen for my friend Javy here?” Reuben asks.

You nod, digging through your bag for your pencil case. “Pencil or pen?” 

“Whatever you got’s fine, sugar. Right Javy?” The blond says, nudging his friend. You roll your eyes to yourself, unimpressed. 

“Here.” You say, leaning up to hand the black pen to Javy. 

“Thanks, I’ll give it back to you at the end of class.” Javy says with a warm smile as he takes it from you.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got plenty.” You say with a wave of your hand, already turning back around. Pete clear shis throat just as you do, catching the attention of the students in the room. He offers them a warm smile. 

“Well, let’s get started shall we? I’m Pete. You can call me Pete or Mr. Mitchell, whatever suits you. I’m a retired Naval aviator, served for nearly twenty years. I’m an adjunct here at San Diego State, have been for about the last six or seven years. I teach international relations and military history classes mostly. If you’re here, you should be here for History 2060, Global Military Conflicts Post-1945. If that doesn’t sound correct, you’re most likely in the wrong classroom. Don’t blame you, I got lost this morning on my way in from the parking lot.” That earns Mav a laugh from the classroom as you shake your head. He’s told the same joke on the first day of every class you’ve ever had with him. “I’m going to go around and pass out the syllabus. We can read through it and discuss it. The biggest takeaway is that, unlike some of the other History courses on this campus, I care less about your memorization of dates and people on a test. I want you to take something meaningful away from this class and that’s going to come from the papers you write, the readings you do, and the discussions you’ll have in this class. Let’s begin.” 

“Easy A, here we come.” Jake mutters behind you as the stack of syllabus gets plopped in front of you. 

He’s in for a rude awkaening, you think to yourself as you take a syllabus, passing it back to the boys.

-

“Don’t forget. Your first response paper is due tonight at midnight. I want well-thought out papers, with clear arguments and evidence. Feel free to be critical of the text, but you must respond to it and the more you can incorporate the discussion we had in here over the past few classes, the better. Shows me you’re listening and engaged.” Pete calls out as the class packs up. 

Two weeks into the semester and you had all just finished reading Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. Pete had said he’d chosen the book so you could all understand how these global conflicts could be captured in a fictional manner, asking you to focus on how it communicated a very real history of the event. The book had been supplemented by lectures and class discussion and you felt yourself falling in love with the class everytime you showed up. 

“Have you started that paper?” Reuben asks, sliding his bag over his shoulder. 

Jake snorts. “Hell no. It’s only what, three pages? I’m gonna start writing it after practice tonight.” 

“Javy?”

“Finished it last night.”

“Fucking nerd.” Jake says as Pete calls out your name, motioning you up to the front of the room. It catches the boys attention as you walk around the front row, meeting Pete halfway. The boys are lingering and watching, something you’re painfully aware of. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but are you thinking about grad school?” 

You nod. “Yeah, I am, but I think I’m going to take a year off first.” 

“Have you thought about SDSU’s program at all?” 

You sigh, crossing your arms. “Kind of-”

“-Who willingly puts themselves through more school?” 

You turn catching both Reuben and Javy nudging Jake. You sigh, uncrossing your arms, looking to the ground. 

“We can talk more about this at a later date.” Pete says. “I’ll let you go, I know you have to get to work. Good job on the paper, by the way.” 

“You read it already?”

He nods, walking back to the table at the front fo the room. “Thought I’d get a head start on grading the ones that got turned in early last night. You never fail to impress me, kid.” 

You can't help the grin spreading across your face, even as Jake coughs words that sound oddly like teacher’s pet into his fist.

“Thanks Pete. See you on Friday.” 

-

Jake swallows, staring the 12 out of 100 blinking back at him on the screen. 

“Did you get your grade back for that response paper we wrote last week?” He hears himself, asking. 

“Yeah, I got an 86. Why?”

“Dude, Pete graded those response papers harder than I thought he would. I scraped by with a  73.” Reuben says, sliding in the booth next to him. “How’d you do Jake?” 

He shakes his head, unable to say anything as he stares at the screen. 

Reuben leans over his shoulder, looking at the screen before letting out a low whistle. “Shit Jake.” 

“What? What’d he get?” Javy asks, craning to see the screen. Jake turns the laptop to Javy, earning him a wince. 

“Yikes dude.” 

“What am I gonna do?” He mumbles. 

-

He pauses, waving his friends on as you chat with Pete. He fiddles with his phone, trying not to look nervous as he hears you and Pete discuss research you’d done from this summer. 

“...I really think you should try to get that published, kid.” 

You hesitate. “I don’t know, do you think it could?” 

“Oh absolutely. Here, why don’t you hang on for a second and let me talk to Jake and we can discuss it more?” 

“Oh yeah, sorry.” You give him a nervous smile, stepping a little ways away to give them some privacy.

“What’s up Jake?” 

He sighs. “Sir, I was wondering if you could maybe give me some insight to the grade I got on my paper.” 

Pete frowns. “Did you not read the feedback I left on Canvas? I’m never sure if my comments save properly.” 

“No, I did. I guess- I guess I’m just kind of confused as to why I got that grade.” 

“Well, you lacked a clear argument and the paper was riddled with typos. The assignment was only three pages and you turned in a page and a half. You only used one quote, from the first chapter of the book, telling me you didn’t read any further. You didn’t incorporate any class discussion and you’ve only been here once since the semester started. Now, I know I said I didn’t have an attendance policy but if you aren’t here, you’re not participating in the group discussion and that’s a huge chunk of your grade, Jake.” 

“Is there any way I could re-submit the paper for a higher grade? I’m on the football team and we have to maintain a 2.8 to stay. It’s my last season, Mr. Mitchell, and I’d really like to keep my starting position.” 

Pete sighs. “Tell you what. I’ll let you re-submit the paper for a higher grade if you go to the Writing Center and work with one of their consultants on the feedback I left for you.” 

“Sir-”

“Those are my conditions, Jake. For any one, not just you. I want to see that you’re actually working on improving.” 

“Well, isn’t it just that… isn’t that place for all the bad writers?” 

Pete’s frown deepens. “There’s no shame in asking for help if you need it, Jake. It’s important to me that you know that.” 

Jake just shrugs. 

“You know, she comes as a very highly rated consultant from some of your athlete friends.” Pete says with a nod of his head over to you. You’re looking at your phone, clearly trying to look busy.

“Yeah, yeah, I think Garcia worked with her last spring.” 

Mickey Garcia was Reuben’s room mate, another athlete but on the baseball team. He’d raved about this girl he’d worked with at the Writing Center last spring, helping him get a 93 on a notoriously difficult final for an International Relations class. 

“She’s one of the best students I’ve seen in my time at San Diego State. You don’t have to work with her, but it might be nice to have a familiar face and someone who knows the class material. If you do decide to re-submit the paper, just ask the tutor to let me know you were there, yeah? You’ve got a week to get the new one back to me.” 

-

Jake pokes his head through the door, eyeing the room nervously. “This the Writing Center?” Your co-worker Mia pops her head up from the computer at the front desk, nodding. 

“Yes, it is! How can I help you?” 

Jake looks around nervously. “I have an appointment.” 

“Okay…” Mia trails off. “Do you remember with who?” 

You shut the room to the storage closet. “Hi Jake.” You say warmly, lugging the Costco-sized bag of candy out to the front table. “I’m just finish refilling the candy bowls if you wanna sit down at one of those tables over there?”

He nods, walking around the front desk to one of the tables, pulling his laptop out of his bag. 

“Isn’t that Jake Seresin?” Mia whispers, eyes wide. “From the football team?” 

You shrug. “I think so. He’s in one of my classes.” 

She nods. “Want me to finish doing that?” 

You sigh, handing her the bag. “That’d be great. Are you still leaving early tonight?” 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind locking up the Center.” 

“Yeah, it’s no problem!” 

You turn back to Jake, whose knee is bouncing as he takes in the space. 

He’s nervous, you realize, a stark contrast from the cocky boy you’d known in class. 

You grab your laptop, sitting down across from Jake. “Alright Jake, do you just wanna share the document with me so we can get started?” 

He wipes his hands on his basketball shorts, nodding as he opens the computer screen before pausing. 

“Can I ask how you did on the response paper for class?” 

You duck your head, biting your lip. “It wasn’t my best one.” 

“What’d did you get?” 

“A 94. You?” 

Jake swallows, eyes flitting around the Center. 

“12.” He whispers.

Your eyes grow wide. “Wait, shit, are you serious?” 

Jake nods. “‘S kinda why I’m here. Pete said if I came here, I could re-submit the paper for a higher grade.” 

You nod. “Well, what do you want to focus on then?” 

Jake shrugs. 

“Well, what would be most helpful for you?”

“Could we start by just looking at his feedback and talking about it? I admittedly didn’t understand some of it.” 

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.” 

The next hour flies by as you work through Jake’s paper, identifying places for him to expand and ways he could utilize evidence. You both worked through Pete’s feedback as you worked to build a better argument based off of it.

Finally, you sit back and sigh. “Well, we’re just at about time. You got any last questions for me?” 

Jake shakes his head, shutting his laptop. “Thanks for all your help on this.” 

“Yeah, of course. It’s my job.” 

“This… this all seems to come so naturally to you.” 

You shrug, closing your own laptop. “Yeah, yeah, I mean I’m a senior so I’ve had a lot of practice. It’s a lot harder when you’re first starting out.” 

“I couldn’t imagine just writing all the time.” 

You give Jake a bashful smile. “I’m writing a 30 page paper for my senior capstone.” 

Jake cringes at your words. “I couldn’t do that.” He says, rubbing his forehead. 

“Hey, you’re already improving. It just takes time to learn how to write in a style like this.” 

“I much prefer my Business classes. At least there, it’s a cake-walk to scrap by with a B average.”

“Well, you’re already doing better than me there. I failed Math in high school.” 

Jake chuckles, packing up his things. “Hey, uh, Pete told me I needed you guys to tell him I came here?”

You nod. “Yeah, we just send them an email with your appointment form, discussing what we did in the appointment.” 

Jake sighs, shoulders slumping. “Thanks.” 

“No problem. Feel free to make another appointment if you have any more questions.” 

Jake gives an aborted nod, slipping his backpack over shoulder and standing up. “Thanks again.” 

-

He blinks, looking at the grade in Canvas. 

70/100

Javy leans over his shoulder at his phone as their coach talks. “Is that the revised grade?” He whispers, Jake nods, locking the phone and slipping it back into his pocket, trying not to think about the comment Pete had left just below the grade. 

There was significant improvement here Jake. Please see my comments in the document and on the rubric for further feedback. I highly encourage you to continue visiting the Writing Center throughout the semester. Let me know if you have any questions or concerns. 

“How you do that, Jakey?” Javy whispers. 

He shrugs as Coach Simpson dismisses them. “Does it matter?” 

Javy lets out an incredulous chuckle. “I mean, if you went from a 12 to a 70, I’d kinda think you sucked Mitchell’s dick or something.” 

Jake middle finger doesn’t stop Javy’s chortle as he leaves the locker room. 

[bokutosbiceps]

KENGAN ASHURA: any characters you’d like with a s/o who has a business and is a business person who’s part of the Kengan tournaments but they have another fighter.

ohma, raian, gaolang, agito (separately) x CEO!s/o

warnings: cursing, death threats, violence

a/n: i didn’t do any kengan omega characters since it clearly says kengan ashura even though i love my boi koga 🥺anyways, i hope you enjoy !! oh, also, i used gn pronouns for the reader (when necessary) since it seemed like that’s what you wanted in your request :3

tokita ohma would be incredibly jealous. like extremely jealous. he doesn’t understand why you’d ask someone else to be your company’s fighter when you’re literally dating him. he is always around whenever you’re strategizing with your fighter + he’ll make little quips like “i’d knock em out faster” or “i could beat the shit outta you so easily”. whenever you’re not around, he’ll make death threats toward your fighter to try to get them to back out so he could take his rightful place as your fighter. you have to set some very serious + clear boundaries w ohma so he can chill out. you’d have to explain that the main reason you don’t want him as your fighter is because you don’t wanna subject him to injury just for your benefit, even though he’s told you many times that he’d gladly go to battle, and die, for you. i could see him becoming fast friends w your fighter if they’re competent + laid back. he’s still jealous that you didn’t choose him, though. he has kind of pure intentions…but we all know the bastard just wants to fucking fight + even better, fight for you.

kure raian is going to be so fucking petty about it. he immediately starts bitching + whining to you. when that doesn’t work, he will seriously try to scare the shit out of the fighter you chose. i honestly don’t see him stopping at killing your fighter. if that happens, you realize you pretty much have to let raian be your fighter or else. if he decides against killing your fighter, he’ll make their life a living hell. and yours. he is around you + your fighter ever waking moment you spend together. first, he makes sure nothing fishy is going on. two, he makes sure that your fighter knows that they’re dead w a single wrong move or loss. your fighter might end up running away out of fear for their own life. raian will probably end up becoming your fighter one way or another. it’s completely unavoidable.

gaolang wongsawat likes that you’re strong willed + doesn’t really mind that you didn’t choose him to be your fighter. you guys keep your relationship + goalang’s job v separate, so he truly has no problem with this. he will, however, do a little bit of training w your fighter for both his + your benefit. it’s nice to have someone to spar w him since they’re always around but he also wants to make sure that they’re a competent fighter. he trains them super well + he helps your fighter bring you massive success. he wouldn’t hold back while fighting in a real match, though. sorry, but he’s going to put your fighter in the ground + not even feel bad about it. in the back of his mind, that’s kinda what you deserve for not choosing him to be your fighter. you know he’s more than capable. but again, he likes that about you. you make your decisions for yourself + he’s ready to stand behind whatever decision you make.

kanoh agito is surprisingly okay with it. he trusts your judgment + while he knows he’s stronger than 99.9% of the world, he lets you make your own decisions. plus, he knows he’s legally obligated to fight for metsudo so he wouldn’t be able to fight for you. that doesn’t mean he won’t help tho. he’ll even offer to spar with your fighter to make sure they’re actually strong enough to bring in success for you. you appreciate his help + he does everything he can (inside of his contract w metsudo) to make sure that you will be successful w this fighter. he’s also v aware of the fact that you may have a fighter who’s not him for official kengan matches, but your true protector will always be him. he wouldn’t entrust that job to anyone else as long as he’s alive. not ever.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 6

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | AO3 | playlist

ok, i really love this one; i hope you guys do too!

today's @steddie-week prompts are: together and Hold the Line - TOTO

C’mon, Munson, get your shit together. You’re the music guy here!’ He tells himself. Okay yeah, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean he’s great about expressing feelings. ‘ That’s what the music’s for, dumbass. ’

Eddie spends the rest of the night and into the next morning pouring over what other songs he could add to the B side of Steve’s tape (and what songs he’s gonna use for the Party Tape…he’s gotta have a blank tape around here somewhere…).

He has a couple contenders, he just doesn’t quite know how they fit yet. Steve had a reason or an explanation for each song on his side, so Eddie wants to do the same. Only problem is that the songs that already do remind him of Steve, are ones Steve’s already put onto the A side.

Fuck, has he been telling him his feelings all this time? The first half of Steve’s side of the tape were his go-to songs whenever they’ve hung out together, while Eddie was recovering at his house.

He goes to sleep that morning with a handful of possibilities, but nothing concrete, then is awoken just before lunch by his phone ringing. 

“Shit,” Eddie hops up groggy and disoriented with sleep, but scrabbles down the hall to the phone so Wayne doesn’t wake up.

“Munson residence, the fuck d’ya want?”

“Eddie! Ste– Ok, rude.”

“Rob? What’s up, Birdie?” Eddie scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Steve’s coming back a day early!” Eddie’s hand freezes. “Do you have the tape done??”

“N-no, no I only have three fuckin songs on it! Damn it, I thought you said he was coming back tomorrow!”

“Hence the call telling you he’s coming back early. He’s landing in Indy at noon, will be here by 3, and somehow Dustin’s already found out so now I’m roping you into ferrying Steve’s children to the arcade with us after he’s back.”

“Hey, they’re my children too!” Wait, what? “Wait, I didn’t say that. Why’d I say that? I don’t even want kids.”

“Nope, too bad. You already said it. You and Steve have joint custody of the shitheads.”

“We’re divorced now?”

“You were married in the first place?” Robin snarks back then mumbles, “Didn’t I just have this conversation?”

“What?”

“Nothing. You coming with or what?”

“No, Buck, I gotta finish his tape now!”

“Too bad, you’re coming. And I’m going to tell Henderson you are so he won’t let you back out.”

“Robin don’t you dare-”

What is with her and hanging up on him??

He’d just gotten back to his bedroom door when the phone rings again. Just barely stopping himself from screaming, he goes back to the handset.

“Hello..?”

“Dude. Would it kill you to sound excited?.”

“Henderson, your sarcasm is not appreciated this early in the morning. And why would I be excited about being volun told to pickup you hellions for the arcade?”

“‘Cause you like spending time with your friends, maybe? Now, do you and Max wanna come pick up me and Lucas? Steve will pick up Will and El at theirs, and pick up Robin and Mike on his way.”

“Sounds like you’ve already got everything planned out, Dusty.”

“Your exasperation is not appreciated this late in the morning.”

“...I don’t have to come, you know.”

“But you know you wanna.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. See you at 2:30.”

Just once , Eddie’d like to be the one hanging up on someone else.

Whatever. Looks like he’s got plans this afternoon.

Eddie looks at the clock on the wall above the fridge. Four hours. Now, does he nap, or does he eat and start getting ready?

They’ll probably grab pizza while they’re at the arcade…nap it is.

Eddie wanders back to his room and is out as soon as his head hits his pillow.

—

Miraculously, he wakes up exactly two and half hours later; just enough time for a shower and to get ready before picking up his half the goblins.

He showers, scrunches a majority of the water out of his curls (Steve’d shown him that little trick, would start on about “Eddie, we went over this! You gotta take care of your curls!" and, "They’re so gorgeous and you’re soooo handsome and hot and I totally wanna pull that hair when I fuc—” OKAY maybe that last part was just wishful thinking, but Steve’d definitely have a conniption if he shows up today with flat hair), and gets dressed.

From the extra spluttering their feeble A/C is doing, and the not-at-all refreshing breeze that crawls through his window when opened, Eddie can confirm that it’s definitely too fuckin’ hot out.

He pulls on his most ripped, well loved pair of black jeans, the holes in the knees long since flayed mid-thigh to mid-shin, a sleeveless cropped Metallica shirt, and his vest.

Grabbing up his rings and chain, he leaves a note for Wayne as to where he’s gone, slides his feet into his reeboks, and heads out the door, keys in hand.

He’s just got the back end of his chain hooked around his hip when he makes it to Max’s door.

“Y’ready Red?”

“Just a minute! It’s unlocked!” she calls back through the door (and slightly cracked window over her sink)

“Need any help?” he asks, closing the front door behind him.

“Nope, just gotta get my other shoe on and I’ll be good. Did you bring the van over?”

“I…did not. That’d probably be a good idea, huh?”

Whoops. He spins back around and jogs back across the street to hop in his van. By time he’s parked outside the Mayfield trailer, Max is hopping her wheels over the threshold onto the tiny step outside the door.

“Whatcha want me to do?” He’d learned real quick not to just start doing things for her, no matter how much he assumes they’d help. Max did not like anyone thinking they have to help her with every little thing, so now they all make sure to ask what it is she’d like them to help with before doing it.

“I just need to lock the door and you can help me into the van. You’ll probably have to come back for the chair though.”

“Of course, your highness.” he gives her a low bow while she locks her front door. “Your hand please, m’lady.” 

She rolls her eyes, but takes his hand. 

Max is able to walk across flat areas pretty well and for an OK amount of distance before getting too tired, but the breaks to her leg really did a number on her. 

She’s got steel pins all through her leg, and has just gotten out of her cast so she wants (and needs) to walk more often to get her strength back up, but has her chair to get around much easier.

So until she gets stronger, she needs help going up and down stairs, and will need help getting up into Eddie’s van, but should be okay for a while once at the arcade.

Once she’s settled, Eddie goes back for her chair, loads it into the back of his van, and they’re off to Henderson’s.

He and Lucas are already waiting out front when he pulls up.

“About time.”

“Dustin. It’s literally 2:31. Calm the fuck down.”

“You guys better get all your swearing out before you see Steve again, you know he’ll go all mom on you.” Lucas laughs. “Here, I’ll start. Hey Max, how the fuck are ya?”

They’re all in so Eddie starts off towards the arcade.

“Hey, show some fuckin’ respect for your mother, Sinclair.”

“Shit Eddie, didn’t know you were our goddamn father.”

“Of course he didn’t fuckin know, Steve hasn’t gotten his shit together enough to propose.”

“Damn, alright, calm down”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to calm down! I swear, I’ll put my foot straight up your ass.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuckfuckfuck.”

All four bust out laughing at that, not quite able to catch their breath before one of them is saying some random curse. 

They’re all red in the face from laughing so hard by time they pull into the parking lot between Steve’s beemer and Nancy’s station wagon.

Dustin runs in immediately after the van stops, and Eddie slyly leaves his keys with Lucas so he can lock up after helping Max, heading inside himself

Now, up until the exact moment he saw Steve (2 whole seconds ago), Eddie thought he was taking the whole “Steve Harrington has big sappy feelings for you” thing really well. Perfectly, in fact! 

No freak out, no huge feelings of doubt, just full focus on ‘responding’ to him.

But now, seeing him again after finding this out…It’s a wonder he doesn’t collapse. 

This beautiful, perfect, amazing man standing in front of a whole herd of teens (two of whom are at eye level or taller than he is now) with a scolding glare, hands on his hips, and flanked by the two most badass ladies he knows…wants him.

Eddie Munson.

It still doesn’t seem real.

Eddie immediately wants to be simultaneously on the other side of the planet, and wedged so close to him that they’re basically the same person.

“Pizza in an hour and a half!” Steve yells after the herd as they disperse. Even Robin and Nancy head off toward the skee-ball machines.

“You okay big boy? You look like that trip took a lot outta you.” 

‘Wow, nice one. You just got here and you’re asking him why he looks gross? Great job, Doofus.’ Why does his inner voice sound like Robin?

He looks over, and Eddie sees his face light up. “Eddie!” he breathes, pulling him into a tight hug.

Steve lets him go, and reaches up to rake through his travel-mussed hair. “And yeah, it was fine, always nice to see my grandparents.”

“Yeah, Robin mentioned you needing to go over their will or something? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re—“ he cuts himself off with a half-hearted chuckle, “They wanted to meet with my parents and I to let them know that their estate is being split 50/50 between us when they pass. Like, half to me and half to both of them.”

“Damn. It’s nice to know I’m marrying into money.” Eddie jokes, leaning into Steve’s side to whisper: “Max spilled your secret on the way here; I promise to act surprised when you finally get the guts to propose.” he whispers with a wink.

Steve’s face turns bright red, but he smiles all goofy. Fuck, he’s cute.

“Aw shit, I really wanted it to be a surprise.” He says, his voice getting gravelly with how low he’s speaking. 

It most definitely does not make Eddie flush red himself, nor do his jeans start feeling tighter, thank you.

Steve gently pushes Eddie back, his hand lingering on the back of his arm a moment too long before his fingers trail down and off his elbow. He starts again, back at a normal volume. “But yeah, Richard and Denise were not happy; I was surprised, though. I’m really appreciative that my grandparents would do that for me.”

“Okay, so it was good news! Why the…” Eddie gestures to all of him. “…glum.”

“It was just the plane ride man, I flew from Cali to Indy with a screaming baby next to me. It was hell let me tell you.”

“I bet.” Eddie winces.

“Plus, Robin stole my favorite tape while I was gone so I couldn't even listen to it on the way here. And that’s been like, the soundtrack to my life lately. Felt weird coming home and then not having it in my car already.” he shakes his head “I dunno, it's dumb, but they are my favorite songs.”

“I know what you mean,” Eddie nods, his heart in his throat. “Can't you just like, go get it back from her house?”

“She’s ‘gotta find it’.” He sighs, throwing up air quotes around Robin’s flimsy excuse. “Which for her, is code for ‘I lost it.’. It's no big deal though, it’s just music.”

“Nah man, music is important, you can communicate a lot with it.”

Steve just shrugs again, a good ol’ ‘What can ya do?’ , so Eddie pats Steve’s shoulder sympathetically and walks over to the far wall of machines. He leans up against the one that Max is bashing away at and looks around the side, like he’s watching what she’s doing.

“What’re you doing over here? You’re not gonna beat my score, Munson.” she snarks from her perch on one of the arcade’s few padded stools.

“Huh?” He looks at the cabinet. Dig Dug. “Oh. Wouldn’t dream of it, Mad Max, just came over to try and look cool, scope out the scene,” ‘Scope out the scene’?? WHO ARE YOU?? “Don’t mind me.”

She just rolls her eyes, “For some reason, Steve already thinks you’re like the coolest guy in the world. You don’t need to fake it.”

Eddie blinks down at her. “OK, seriously, how do you know so much?”

“I dunno; something about losing one of my senses? Or maybe my brush with death left me wise beyond my years…” she sighs wistfully.

He snorts, “Oh yeah? Then I should be way smarter.”

“Yeah, you should be.” She fights to keep a straight face after that one. Damn that was slick.

“Good one, Red.” he pats her once on the shoulder, then goes back to watching her play. It’s actually pretty impressive being that she’s got brand new coke-bottle glasses she should be wearing.

“I’m not gonna wear ‘em. I look like a doofus when I do.”

“Aw, I thought you just said I was cool!” he pouts.

Her mouth twitches up at that. “No, I said Steve thinks you’re cool. I think you’re a Doofus.”

“Exactly! And if the big man himself thinks I’m cool, then you’d definitely be cool.” He leans in and looks around conspiratorially, “and I have it on good authority that the rest of these goblins think whatever he thinks is cool, is cool too.”

She smiles, and her game bleeps to an end. “Yeah, they all do think he’s like, the greatest ever.”

“And you don’t?”

Her face blushes a soft pink. “Shut up, Munson. How do you know so much?”

He stands up straight and grabs hold of his vest lapels like some stuffy professor. “I’m smart ‘cause I died,” he says in a haughty tone “...or something.”

A couple of unhinged barks of laughter burst out of her. “I’m gonna go with ‘or something’.”

Eddie spends the next hour trying to mess up the other shitheads’ games. 

Smack a wrong button here, a poke under Dustin’s armpit there, general fuckery. 

And every time he and Steve pass one another, there’s some sort of touch. 

He didn’t notice it the first time, thinking Steve really did need to hold onto him while passing behind him. A classic midwestern “Ope, lemme just sneak by ya” just to get close to him.

When he looked back, there was no one at the cabinet behind him.

So Eddie gave it back tenfold the next time he encountered the party’s beloved babysitter.

Walked behind him on his way to where Mike and Lucas were now trying their hand at DigDug, and gently squeezed his hip.

Steve jumped about five feet, but it was worth it when Steve came up to his side later and wrapped his arm around Eddie’s lower back, settling his large palm briefly on the exposed skin of his hip and stomach where it peeked out from under the cropped shirt.

Eddie immediately felt the need to pull his hair up; Fuck is it hot in here?

Bun secured, and Steve gone off to bother Robin and Nancy at the air hockey table, Eddie knew what he was going to do next. 

He left Wheeler and Sinclair to continue to lose to Max, heading toward the water fountain. 

Steve’s standing with his back to Eddie’s path so when he passes, it’s just too easy to reach out, grab a lock of hair, and pull .

He’s rewarded with the sound of a poorly muffled moan (that he’ll be thinking about forever, thanks), and Steve is gifted an unobstructed view of his ass while he bends over to get a drink.

Eddie stands when he hears Steve’s panicked “Robin, can I talk to you a second?”

He comes back to take Robin’s place next to Nancy where they’d been playing two on one with Steve.

After a beat, Nancy says, “I hope you’re ready to have Robin as a permanent third wheel.” She’s still looking forward at the other end of the table.

Hah! That’s hilarious. “Won’t be as bad since you’re the fourth.” Eddie shrugs, then puts his fist out towards her, also looking off to where he can see Steve panicking at Robin.

Nancy’s knuckles knock into his, and he’s never felt closer to anyone in his life.

Only one half of the Harrington-Buckley twins come back, coming up to her girlfriend and linking their fingers behind the folds of Nancy’s skirt.

“Mama Harrington is getting the pizzas now; we’ll go get some tables pushed together, will you herd the cattle?”

“I feel like they’re more like cats. Especially that Max one, she’s got her claws out like, all the time.” Eddie says, half over his shoulder, as he heads off, hunting down the gremlins.

Mike and the elder Sinclair are still nowhere near Max’s high score, Dustin’s getting berated by baby Sinclair over how bad he’s doing at Donkey Kong, Will and El are together at the Polybius cabinet, Max in her chair now at El’s side.

‘ That’s all of them right? ’ Eddie counts them in his head while he looks around. Yep, that’s all of them.

He heads back to the little arcade pizzeria area, freezing in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the open arched doorway.

Every little thing he’s ever noticed about Steve Harrington over the last however many years feels like they’ve just been building to this moment.

Every damn day spent thinking he was the most beautiful person to ever grace the halls of Hawkins High (he is), every story he never believed about how badass he was from the mouth of his oldest adopted kid, every moment he spent shielding each of these people that have become so beloved in Eddie’s life.

Every painful scar, every dreadful day spent healing with Steve at his side, every. Single. Thing. Has built up to this one.

The most mundane of them all. 

The nine most important people in his life, the biggest family he never wanted but now can’t even think about a life without them, sitting around three tiny tables and clamoring over one another for a slice of the pizzas in the middle of them all, being hovered over by Steeeeeve Harrington.

“Careful Mike, don’t put your elbow in Dustin’s face! That thing’s sharp…Max, do you want me to grab you some? What kind do you want? No, Ellie, sweetie, I’ll hand it to her, no powers needed today, okay? Will, which pop do you want, bud, you gotta speak up so Dustin doesn’t drink all the Vernors. Lucas, will you grab some more napkins—no arguments you little shits, everyone needs napkins. Erica, are you good? Okay, good. Ed—where’s Eddie, he needs to eat too…”

Oh.

Oh.

Part 7 here!

yes, i did have the wonder twins playing Polybius.

also, mayfield/munson sibling vibes are so important to meeeeee.

also also, i love max getting adopted by steddie just as much as dustin BUT you cannot tell me she doesn't also have just a lil' crush on steeb.

tagging the lovelies: @hellomynameismoo, @messrs-weasley, and @manda-panda-monium