#also i’m always too lazy to do it myself so if he could wash my face that’d be lovely thank u <3

[whenthegoldrays]

what i really need is someone to lovingly but firmly pry my phone out of my hands at 10pm and carry me to bed and tuck me in and wake up with me the next morning

[luvrxbunny]

Let’s start with my mom: My mom is not the worst mom. I love her so much that it hurts. She could just be better like all the other parents in the world. Like once she kicked me out of the house bc of my stepdad who cheated on her multiple times and treated her like absolute shit. She would purposely put my little sister off to the side (which doesn’t make sense bc my step dad is her father😭) and would put her on me and my older sister. She used to constantly criticized me on how my hair looked, how I dressed,and more. But that motivated me. I changed up my wardrobe, started learning how to do my hair, bought makeup, everything. I did it not only bc of what she would say but what people at school would say. Which when I told her I was getting bullied at school, she told me to just stand up for myself and when I told her I didn’t know how, she would ridicule me about that too. Another time she flat out told me I wasn’t wanted. AT A PUBLIC POOL. There were worse times than others but I’m glad I still have a good relationship with my mom. Not everyone is as lucky as me

Now my dad on the other hand, fuck him. First off, when I was growing up he was a poor excuse of a father. He still is but that’s wtv🙄. He would bail on me at times even though he promised. And when his health got worse, he started to treat me like a maid. I do currently live with my dad and for the past few months, I have to do almost everything for him. He’s always like “Kenya do this for me” and “Kenya do that for me”. He asks me for so much that sometimes he pays me. I cook for him, I clean for him sometimes, I get things for him and what I don’t do, my grandma does. And let me tell you, my grandma is a strong woman bc I would have gave up a long time ago if I was her. This man is ungrateful, lazy, a piece of shit, and a overall bad person. He smells first of all at his big grown age, my grandma cleans up after him, and the reason I say he’s ungrateful is bc recently when he got back from the hospital bc of a knee injury, my grandma had stripped his bed and he got mad. He said and I quote “I told her what to do and she just did whatever she wanted to do.” So I said “you’re lucky she washed anything. Just ungrateful.” And this dumbass nigga had the audacity to say to me “I didn’t ask for your fucking attitude Kenya. You sit in here and let her do the shit.” Referring to her stripping his bed and cleaning his sheets. I just walked off before I hurt him bc he can be such a pain in the fucking ass, you know? Like y grandma is not getting any younger and you’re just putting more stress on her. And what kills me is he got a degree and never did anything with it bc he’s a failure. Why go to college and never have a career? What makes me mad about that is some people never got the chance to go to college and you just threw your life away like nothing? And he can’t even blame it on his health bc ITS HIS FAULT IN THE FIRST PLACE. It’s all those years of terrible eating and unhealthy decisions that got you in this place.

I could really talk about my dad for hours and how much I hate that man. But what’s crazy is I would still be sad if he died. Sometimes I feel like I wouldn’t though

okay babes why are you almost me

i’m the same way with my mom, like she’s almost my best friend, we have a pretty good relationship, definitely better than most but she is also the meanest person to me in my life. she’s the only one who can make me feel as terrible as i do, yet i love her????

and for the doing everything around the house, i also relate to that. my mom has me and my siblings clean the entire house, she used to withhold food or sleep until we got things done, she would scream and more that i’d rather just not get into but luckily she’s too old to do that anymore— or we’re too big. but i don’t know why some parents think their children were made to serve them? like we’re our own people with our own lives. you wouldn’t like to be doing something like this for free so what makes you think i want to?

and i hope u don’t take this the wrong way but your dad sounds insanely immature. like as a grown ass man you’re yelling at your child and your mother over some bedsheets!?! just hearing abt it is making my blood boil

and then i said how you’d still be sad if he died omg i felt that

my dad was abusive and had been absent for god knows how long but if i randomly got some shit in the mail saying he died…? i think i’d still feel some sadness over it and it makes me even more upset that he can make me feel anything when he doesn’t deserve any of it

[petersbaby]

Cold- Eddie Munson x reader

Part five ♡

Part four / Part six

Warnings: oral (m receiving) and that should be it

A/N: so turns out reader is a switch so the dynamic will change. She’s kinda dominant here. I am, in fact, a switch irl so I might be referencing myself a little >:) also I need to add these to my masterlist but I’m putting it off because linking all the different parts together is gonna be a pain in the ass. I shall do it though, soon. Whenever I get back on desktop hehe

-

“Hi Eddie.” Your voice comes through the phone and into his ear, causing a smile to spread across his face.

“Hi. What are you doing?”

“Welllll I’m thinking. Thinking about how nice it is outside and how it would be good to maybe go back to that spot near the lake. We could get food, have a little picnic in the back. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds perfect. I’ll come get you in about an hour, okay?”

“Okay. Bye.”

He had barely gotten out of the bed yet, he was just lazily lounging around since it was a Sunday. He likes to call them “lazy Sundays” when in reality he’s pretty lazy every other day too. When he got your call, he got butterflies in his stomach, and he was immediately praying you’d say you wanted to see him too.

He hopped up and into the shower, washing his hair and putting on a clean outfit with his beat-up old Reeboks. Admittedly, he doesn’t always care so much about his appearance or presentation. You were making him think and act totally different, because all he could think of was you no matter what he was doing.

He sprays on his cheap cologne as a final touch and heads out the door. After a couple of minutes into the drive to your house, he got nervous and habitually reached for a smoke. He really loved that the smell of tobacco didn’t bother you. In fact, you’d told him it was a comforting smell to you. Something that relaxed your senses for some reason you couldn’t quite place.

He finally arrives at your door, and you’re conveniently waiting by it so you answer it right away. This surprised him, but he thought it was really sweet. All the voices racing in his head seemed to all cease the second he laid eyes on you. His eyes scanned your body, not so much in a sexual way but rather to see what inevitably is gonna be a super cute outfit you chose for the day.

“You look cute.”

“No, you do.” You smile, giving him the same look up and down. You step outside with him, closing the door behind you and following him to the van where he opens your door like he always does, even though you’ve told him he doesn’t have to. He also had a solid habit of asking to make sure you’re buckled up, citing that you’re “precious cargo”.

You guys stop by the convenience store, the only place he could think of to spontaneously get food for a picnic. He was worried a bit that this wasn’t what you had in mind, but it was also admittedly just he could afford. He looks over at you once you park in front of the store, looking a bit like a confused puppy.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, uh, nothing.”

He was just overthinking. You were more than happy with this. Once inside, you both grabbed a premade sandwich, some candy, chips, and a couple of drinks. You got pink lemonade and he got root beer, after which you set it all down on the counter up front. The cashier bags it all up, and you happily take the bag from their hand. You waited as Eddie paid, then followed him yet again back to the car.

He plays music on the way, tapping his fingers on the wheel to the beat which was really cute and had you smiling when you saw it in your peripheral vision.

When you get to your spot, you both go to the back again to spread everything out on the blanket and sit down.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie. I thought it was weird that you had a van, maybe even a little creepy. But now I see the appeal.” You laugh, gesturing to the space where the two of you had hung out on several occasions. It was cozy. That was one thing you remember from that night, how you just felt so comfortable and safe in there.

“Ouch. Well at least you don’t think I’m creepy anymore.”

You ate, you laughed, you talked, but ended up making out once again. Bound to happen. It was admittedly something you probably did more than you should, but it was addicting. His lips were a LOT softer than they looked, and had a mint/cigarette taste on them.

You were far past just his lips, now, though. You were practically swallowing each other whole, tongues not fighting so much as moving together in harmony until he pulls back to breathe.

“God, I don’t want to make you feel pressured but I need you so bad.”

“Hmm.” You start, an indicator that you’re thinking of something mischievous. You remember one thing you said on the phone that one time, about how you’d like to hear him beg.

“How bad?”

“Really bad.” You exchange whispers between deep kisses.

“What do you want?”

“I’ll take anything. I’ll take anything you’ll give me.” He sounded so desperate he was falling apart with every word.

You start to move, to hover above him and sit on top of him.

“Okay. Gonna take it?”

“Y-yes.” He breathes.

Your lips leave his, moving over to his ear where you nipped his earlobe and started kissing from his jawline and then lower, taking your sweet time until he’s whimpering and then you finally reach that perfect spot at the bend of his shoulder and neck, where they connect.

You kiss this spot harshly, sucking the skin between your teeth and running your tongue over the spot to soothe it and then repeat this over and over.

“Get this off.” You tug at the bottom of his t shirt, which he pulls off right away. Now you have more expanse to cover, kissing and licking his collarbones and slightly bearing down, clothed heat rubbing up against his erection.

“Oh, god.” He murmurs. “Can I?” He holds his hands up, eyeing your waist.

“Mhm.” You take his hands and help guide them to your body. He runs his hands up and down the curve of your waist and all the way back down to your hips. His big, calloused hands find their way to your ass, where he uses a little bit of pressure to push your crotch down against his once more. You weren’t prepared for this, moaning when he does it.

“Oh, shit.” He murmurs.

That was the first time he’s ever heard that sound from you and he decided he needed more right away. He grew even harder, if that was at all possible, and you could feel it. You allowed him to continue guiding your hips up and down and you tried to hold back the moans that threatened to follow that first one while you kissed the tattoos on his chest.

You pull back off of him to just sit for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall with the intensity. He was so, so beautiful, especially like this. But, eventually, you remember that you’re in the view of anyone who may come near. “Fuck, close the doors.” You order him, a little more urgently than you meant to. You had all day, after all, but that fact slipped your mind in the moment.

He scrambles to pull them shut, leaving you alone in the back with him and still an ample amount of sunlight coming through the windows. You shuffle close to him again to push him back, and he does fall back but doesn’t seem to mind at all.

You start to take control once again, having allowed your guise to slip when he caught you off guard. He looked completely submissive and entranced right in front of you, big brown eyes blown out. You start to desperately undo his belt buckle, and he grabs both your hands.

“We don’t have to go that far, you don’t have to do that.” He reminds you, almost in a warning tone.

“I want to. I mean, only if you do too, of course.”

“You have no idea how much I want it.”

“Okay then.” You say, with the slightest bit of smartass-ness.

You make quick work of it, then just having to unbutton and unzip his black jeans. You tug on them slightly knowing you’ll need his help in getting them off, and he assists you. Once it’s free and you see it for the first time, you can practically feel the drool pooling in your mouth. “Jesus.” You comment, a little stunned.

“You okay?” He half laughs at your reaction.

“Mhm. I’m more than okay.” You fake confidence that you’re gonna be able to fit that in your mouth with the hopes it’ll just happen magically. You procrastinated a little, licking up and down the bottom of his shaft at which he groaned repeatedly, and then kissing the tip.

The kisses turned sloppy, the sloppy kisses turned into kitten licks. All over the head of his cock, over and over again until you finally feel like you can take it. You do it slowly, sinking your mouth down onto it with your tongue flattened against the underside.

He makes sure to keep his hands beside him, makes sure not to touch you and not to make you feel like you have to go faster. Not to rush you, not to make you feel the slightest bit pressured. He let you take your time, and it pays off, because now you have his entire length filling up your mouth and throat.

“Good god, Jesus Christ.”

“Hmm.” You hum around his cock.

“No gag reflex? Holy shit.”

You pull off only to take it all back down again, nose touching against his happy trail and slightly into the dark hair at the base. You hollow out your cheeks, sucking even harder, and he’s gripping his fists into the throw blanket below the both of you.

His head tips back and leans against the wall as his eyes shut involuntarily and he has to make an effort to keep them open, keep them on you and your pretty little face down there. He couldn’t last long at all, and he couldn’t even begin to try and stop it. He just hoped you didn’t mind, and don’t think he busts that quick every time. There had just been so much sexual tension.

“I’m gonna cum, pretty, ‘m gonna cum.” He warns you, and you continue without a second thought until his load is going into your mouth. He thinks that, anyway, when it’s actually going straight down your throat.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He’s said that probably a million times already, but it was just the default thing to say when his mind couldn’t find any actual words. He looks fucked out, a little dumb, and he sounds like it too.

When you pull off of him, he looks up at you, dazed and almost as if he’s expecting something. You just looked back at him and blinked through your dark lashes.

“Did you swallow that??”

“Mhm. Was I not supposed to?”

He laughs in amazement.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky, sometimes I’m convinced you’ll vanish right from my sight, like you were a dream.” He says, pulling his pants back on but remaining shirtless for now.

“A good dream, I hope?”

“A really fucking good dream. Too good to be true. C’mere, don’t disappear. Don’t just be a dream.”

He holds his arms open for you and you crawl into them, into his lap as you wrap your arms around each other. Just to stay like that, for a while. Just stay.

[shrinkthisviolet]

7, 23, 35, 43, 65, and 76 [your eyes will need some time (to adjust)] for the fic asks?

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

Sometimes I just get a sense of “ooh this fic would be best from this person’s POV because they can provide x, y, z”. Other times, it takes a little experimenting to figure out whose POV tells the story best

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

There will always be someone who doesn’t like your fics. They may even make their displeasure known in your comments. Don’t let it get under your skin—just wash it right off and keep going (whether it means deleting the comment, replying in whatever manner you please, or what have you, don’t let their criticisms stick).

Even if you’re the kind of person who asks for constructive criticism on your fics, ignore any comments that are just straight-up criticism—that’s not constructive. And remember that you only need to take the advice that you want—that’s something I always got told in peer review in English. You know your story best! If some advice makes your story better and you wanna take it, great. If some advice runs counter to the story you’re telling, no need to take it. You’re the driver of this car.

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

A few things:

1) Intimidation/menace factor. THIS WILL LOOK DIFFERENT FOR DIFFERENT VILLAINS! Zoom is menacing and intimidating, that’s what makes him a good villain. Savitar is manipulative and sneaky, that’s what makes HIM a good villain. If you try to force a villain character to act in a way that doesn’t suit them, that villain will not be as strong of a character as they could be

2) Masks are a powerful tool, use them sparingly and precisely. Thawne and Zoom are both revealed to us early, and the characters later—this provides some fun dramatic irony for us and allows us to see them unmasked more than the characters do. At the same time, they’re still unmasked early enough to do some great stuff with them out of their suits. Savitar, however, was revealed to us at the same time as the characters…and also far too late to do anything interesting with him besides a couple scenes in 3x22 and most of 3x23 (which I have my own grievances with, but that’s for another post)

3) GIVE THEM COHERENT MOTIVATIONS I cannot stress this enough. Zoom…mostly had this, and the rest was explained away by him being insane (which is lazy, but hey, it worked for them ig). Thawne in s1 and s2 is masterful at this (can’t say the same about later seasons when he seems to lose coherent motivations beyond “wants Barry dead and hates all of Team Flash for no real reason”). SAVITAR is the poster child of incoherent villain. Does he want to kill Iris? Is he resigned to it? The show says: both! KF repeatedly has talks with him that make him seem resigned to it, and he’s smitten with Iris in 3x23…but he was also gleefully kidnapping her and celebrating when he thought she was dead. Also, the fact that he’s Barry means that him being okay with killing Iris makes absolutely no sense (he has enough humanity left in him to still love Iris, 3x23 proves that). If he had a loophole, like reviving her later for himself, that would’ve explained it…but even so, it’s not perfect (that 3x23 scene with Barry and Iris should’ve happened before 3x22 ✋ and that’s a fix-it I’ll write someday)

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

Somewhere in between 😅 I love whumping them, but only because of the sweet catharsis at the end. I have written Hurt/No Comfort, but I much prefer Hurt/Comfort

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

SO excited for 1x15 🥰 I’m not saying why ofc, but you’ll see when I eventually get to that fic.

Ooh and also 1x17! Since Iris is in the loop, it’ll be fun having her in the know during the mayor’s event…and ofc Morgan, who will be benched by Barry [the reason why is a spoiler], will sneak into the event to try and protect Iris. AND Morgan discovers something in this episode…and tension with Team Flash kicks off

And ofc 1x19 will be fun for Bates angst 🥰 and 1x20 will be fun for…other whumpy reasons 👀

I’m also excited for the s3 arc (Savitar & Morgan, I think about you all the time 💞), and some episodes in s2 (2x16 (Eliza, also M&J roommates arc), 2x18 (Barry gives up his speed), 2x19 (Morgan gets kidnapped while trying to do something else), 2x20 (Barry’s “death”), 2x22 (something something Henry Allen), 2x23 (the final fight)—pretty monumental things happening in these episodes)

76. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [your eyes will need some time (to adjust)]?

Ooh I love this question! Honestly if anything it was gonna be shorter. But I really wanted to include his talk with Eowells that planted the “adoption” seed, which is why it was as long as it is. Ooh though I did consider stretching it out more and including more of the start of Barry being parentified, but I figured in the end that ending it with the adoption talk and him meeting Morgan was punchier…and a few little seeds of him being parentified are present anyway (and can be expanded in later fics)

fic writer ask game!

[bringmefoxgloves]

(vent cw)

i really hate myself rn. i need to wash my bedding cause it feels gross but my step dad is washing the entire high school football team’s uniforms. i want to rip off this heart monitor even though i have one more day on it and i want to feel clean and normal and not hate how my hair looks and that i’m sweating so much, so i always feel gross. my room and this house feel disgusting and stresses me out and yet my room is the only place i can hide.

and i just now sat out in the kitchen eating something i fear will affect my tummy (chicken alfredo which has a lot of cheese but i forgot my lactaid) and trying to hold back my physical cringing at how loud my younger brother was yelling directly in my ear as he was telling a story to my mom on my other side.

it something about his wallet disappearing from the locker room because my step dad snagged it so it wouldn’t get stolen and how he was ready to beat up any kid who took it (they were all freshmen and he’s a senior) and then blew up on my step dad for taking it. i think my younger brother honestly has anger issues in how he was ready to employ violence as his first instinct.

and then as soon as i finished my plate i stood up, felt dizzy as my family immediately commented on me getting up so fast without talking to them. i told them i was tired, i just wanted to get the hand washes done while i had energy left as i was fading fast. which lead to my brother bringing up last night and then i had to expel more energy i didn’t have to defend myself against my brothers half assed apology as i tried to explain what happened. all for my step father and mother to say that ‘this seems to be a communication issue’ and take his side and it fell on me and *i* should have informed my brother that i was going to bed.

however, i told my parents i was going to bed early because my younger brother was still on an hours long facetime call with his girlfriend (who he drove to see… overnight? like he stayed over with her. wtf. so it’s fine for him, a 17 year old, to do that when you never would have let me do the same if i had asked when i was his age? i smell some sexism here) and wasn’t available for me to tell. i fucking told someone, i told my brother but he was too eager to get back to his facetime with his girlfriend to listen to me as i half sobbed from my bed when he woke me up with a pound on my door, i told him that i was too- and that’s all i could get out before he slammed the door last night telling me to just do the dishes. so i told someone, he just didn’t fucking listen because i must be lazy or trying to avoid chores.

i would have assumed my mom or maybe my step father (but who am i kidding. he’s not done hand washes if someone else cooks in years) to help cover for me but they didn’t, last night they just watched another episode of the good doctor and went to bed. or maybe i just wanted my younger brother to do them (he had a standing offer to do all the dishes if i was tired a few days ago? guess that has been rescinded) but no.

instead i had my entire family telling me this was my fault while i was trying to shakily walk around to put stuff away in the kitchen. they finally shut up when i told them it took me two whole hours to do the dishes last night. and then my step dad muttered under his breath that he could hear how long i was doing dishes last night. like i was still the problem.

but i’m now on my bed and i just want to cry but i won’t because someone will come in and try to comfort me and ask what’s wrong and i can’t explain it without sounding ungrateful and entitled and weird and asking too much from my family and this fucking world

my entire scalp itches and i should finish repairing the pants i wanted to wear to pride which is in three days but i don’t know if i’ll have the energy. i also signed up for two volunteer shifts at pride cause i thought i would have more energy but this week has just been fucking draining me. i don’t want to let people down, i don’t want to miss out on my community, but i’m afraid i won’t be able to summon up the energy. i know i will crash afterwards for sure.

i can feel myself on the verge of a meltdown and i am in sensory overload mode cause my brother played such loud music in the shower that i could clearly hear it in my room, and everyone eating and talking made me want to scream, and now my parents are watching another good doctor episode in the living room with the sound up so loud. i stg i’m going to break.

today i still had to clean up after everyone just leaving random dishes out and crap scattered around cause i’m still the live in housekeeper as an adult child not paying rent, my bank account is empty (i have less than two dollars in there but i’m scared of asking my parents for more money cause i see my brother taking more money from them while they say we have to tighten our finances), i can’t get a job because of my health. i want to continue in my plans of opening my own business but i don’t know how i will with everything going on.

i’m scared and uncomfortable with how weak my legs are, i just want some time alone and to rest. i want my own space without anyone breathing down my neck, without judging me, without thinking if i just applied myself i could do things. i want someplace without my step dad asking me if i have more energy now, as if that answer will change right now in the conditions i’m in. someplace where i didn’t have my mother going on a new diet kick or shaking some alternative medicine that will surely cure my long covid and fix my gut microbiome (because if i fixed my gut i would get all my energy back and be normal again, it will fix whatever is wrong with me, cure me and make me normal again) in my face.

i want a place where i could eat at the table without feeling like i’m in the middle of a battle field and i can hear everyone’s chewing and breathing like they’re right in my ear, a place where my brother won’t walk in on me naked in the bathroom (because that happened today). a place i could shut my door without being called antisocial and leave it open without everyone coming to ask me to do something for them.

i want a place i could be alone, where i could spread out and inhabit my own space, someplace i could eat and make my own food, control what is in the cupboards and fridge, that i could lay on the floor and stim freely, a place where i didn’t have five pets assaulting my nose and demanding attention and getting hair everywhere.

a place i could use a shower stool without being called lazy or over exaggerating, someplace i could use a wheelchair because i desperately need to, someplace i could have things laid out to assist me rather than hinder me.

someplace i could dress as i want/have my hair as i want with no one questioning what my gender is. someplace i could have my own private sexual life and not have to answer my brother’s questions about my sexual orientation and identity and what i have done or listen to him boast about his conquests.

i want my own place, independent and stable and safe for a disabled and neurodivergent person like me.

but the world isn’t set up for that.

i look at other people my age or even younger who are in better places, with better jobs, living on their own, able to care for themselves and it just feels so unfair that i can’t have that. that my mind and my body aren’t set up to operate like that without a lot of help.

i know i will need help for a long time yet and it’s clashing with my desire for independence. i’m fucking 26 and living in my parents house. but i still need to stay here cause in two years my top surgery will take place and i have no one else to care for me.

i feel like i’m stuck in amber and going fucking nowhere.

i’m just…. i’m so tired. i know i’ll be fine eventually, all’s well that ends well and if it isn’t well yet it isn’t over and all that, i know. i know i just have to be patient but i’m tired.

anyways thanks for reading and i’m certain i will feel better tomorrow.

[inmamawords]

Yesterday was Father’s Day and it was a lazy one. I woke up not feeling too great and June woke up not in the best mood. She was recently given Pokémon cards and has been stuck on them as she typically does when given something new and small. This particular morning she could not find one of her cards And there seem to be no moving on in the day until we found it. Her emotions got big and her actions followed. I’ve learned to remain calm in these moments that drag on, but sometimes I fail. We searched high and low and It took removing every cushion from the sofa and shifting the couch around to find it, what a relief when I pushed that couch back and it fell from the crack of the two pieces that had been connected. We are now 15 minutes late to church. I don’t like being late but getting angry and upset only makes matters worse and at what cost is it worth? We are just late to church. It’s not worth the fight if we’re late we are late, junes soul mattered more in that moment than telling her the card didn’t matter and arriving on time with a smile on our face with a fake act that we had it all together that morning.

I’m learning to accept the differences as normal because they are normal for our family. Our day is full of big emotions and I have had to let go of expectations in order to also let go of disappointments. It is taking me a long time and will be a a continual lifelong journey. The more I hold june up to the expectations of others or even just her sister and her brother the more I am trying to mold her into someone that she is not. My expectations are selfish and I often wonder what other people think when they experience firsthand, these big breakdowns over something so small. I often say no to things for fear of a breakdown to come. I know June and I know me and I know that God sees us, knows us, and understands us and that is all I need to lean on. I have to let go of the preconceived thoughts I think others may have us.

Now, this was a long way to tell you about our morning but we made it to church. And the day did get better. It rained and they played in the rain. The rain reset June, it reset all of us. Did I want more wet clothes and towels to wash? No, but did I want happiness and peace? Yes, and so the question “can we play in the rain?” Is often an easy yes for me. After the rain storm June began her typical pretending with her beautiful bright and whimsical imagination. I then was able to curl up and take a cat nap on the couch, which I don’t do very often while the kids watched Toy story four. After that, I made homemade pickles while the kids made bracelets. June made 4 bracelets all by herself. She usually doesn’t have the patience to finish, but she did! The rough start to the day was redeemed. After their wrists were loaded with bracelets we got out in the rain and got ice cream, on the way home we rescued a turtle from the middle of the road. I often feel much like that turtle like I’ve made it to the middle but then I’m not sure what to do next. I get stuck. I question myself. I doubt myself. I start to fear the future and my anxiety slowly creeps in on my shoulders and into my mind. “Turn back now” a voice says. If I go back it seems safe cause I’ve been there. It’s safe to coast. The abundant life lies, and our trusting of moving forward. Life seems to continue on getting easier in some areas and much harder than others. Sometimes I just wish to coast to just stay in the middle and avoid the risks of getting hit. There’s not much fruit that comes from . yes, Forward and back are the same distance but if I go forward there Could be magic in the unknown. their could be new hardships but with new hardships come new lessons learned, comes growth, and in this new growth develops and molds a better me. A better mom for them. I hope I brought the turtle to the side he was trying to get to and I hope to always have my eyes open to be able to help others get to their other side also.

[stargirlinterupted4]

A lil story I wrote

THE MAKING OF A GOD

In the private estate on 34th street, there lived 4 adopted children, all aged 16, named Kratos, Apollo, Vulcan, and Minerva. They dwelled there alongside their billionaire mother, Ivana Mikhailov. These children were not ordinary whatsoever. In fact, they were the exact opposite. Each child had a talent in which they excelled impossibly at. Kratos was an athlete. He could run faster than a cheetah, and could lift a regular car with one arm. Apollo was an artist. Someone could say how they feel and he’d know exactly how to paint that feeling. People always thought his paintings were real, like they could think and feel and breathe. Vulcan was an engineer. He could build a military aircraft capable of going MACH 16 out of a paperclip and a pencil. But, out of the four, Minerva was the most powerful. Because her power was her mind. Her mind was capable of unimaginable things, things you thought were myths until you met her. She was gifted with claircognizance, letting her know everything without any prior knowledge. She had also mastered telepathy, levitation, psychic surgery, remote viewing, and even astral projection. Her power scared people, even her brothers. Even her mother. Other than their inhuman abilities, they were pretty normal kids. They had friends, they went to school and parties, and they lived amongst the normal kids. They weren’t allowed to tell anyone of their abilities, so everyone just assumed they were extremely talented. Funny thing is, that’s what they were.

MINERVA

I woke up at exactly 4:00am, just like always. I’ve used an alarm a day in my life. I’ve just told my brain when to wake me up, and that’s what it does. I laid out a mat and sat in a lotus position. Breathing deeply, I let my mind drift into the alpha state. I felt my body lift off the mat and into the air, so I dropped my shoulders and began affirming my desires. I astrally projected out of my body and stepped outside to know the weather for today. 24 degrees celsius with a 12% windchill. 0.008975% chance of rain. 30 minutes and 38.437 seconds later, I came back to my body and did a 10 minute vinyasa yoga session. I went to the kitchen to have my usual breakfast; 2 eggs, one avocado, and a bowl of walnuts and blueberries with moringa tea. At 5:00:23, I joined Kratos in the fitness center. He was running on our 45 incline treadmill at 16 speed. He must be warming up. I sent him a telepathic message letting him know I was in there. Last time I startled him, he tried to punch me in my left eye. He stopped halfway towards my face when he remembered the telekinesis incident of 2018 (I dropped a dumbell on his head). “Sup, Minerva”, he yelled, with his booming man voice. “Morning”, I replied. I climbed onto the treadmill next to him and began to run at 7 speed. As time went by, the rest of the boys came in and joined our running sesh. Kratos was obviously running 40 times faster than us. At 6:02:56, we all stopped and parted ways to finish our routines. I showered, washed my hair, my face, and my body, then manifested my hair to be dry and blown out. I was too lazy to do it myself. I don’t wear makeup, frankly because I don’t need it. My eyelashes are already dark and long, my cheekbones are already prominent and glowy, and my lips are already full and hydrated. And yes, I manifested all of that, too. I put on my school uniform and got in the car at 7:10:39. I was the first one in, again, and Apollo was of course last. You never know when he will get a burst of creativity. I pull out my giant artist's journal from my backpack to do my morning 10 pages of writing. “What are you writing in your diary, Minnie?” Vulcan asked as he built a slingshot out of Kratos’ sweatband and Apollo’s sketching pencil. “I’m re-writing the rules of quantum physics based on my own experiments”, I replied, with every intention to boast. “Cool!” Apollo said, pulling an extra pencil out of his backpack. Apollo has always been my favorite. We’re both poets, both philosophers. Kratos and Vulcan never get what we talk about. Mainly because we talk to each other in French, and they can’t understand it.

“Je me demande ce que pensent et ressentent les animaux. Leur conscience est-elle aussi puissante que la nôtre, ou ne pensent-ils qu'à la nourriture et à la survie?” “Ils ont certainement une grande compréhension de ce qu'ils connaissent, mais en dehors de cela, non.” Vulcan chugged a plastic water bottle.“You know that water is jam-packed with fluoride, that shit fucks up your brain.” I warned. “Whatever, loser.” He replied. What an intellectual. “4,396.89.” “You didn’t Even let me say the question!” Kratos whined. “You know I can hear your thoughts, right?” I gloated. “You’re such a narcissist.” He shot back. I know very well that I am a narcissist. You’d be one, too if you were the most intelligent being to ever exist. I’ve gone to many therapists regarding my “issues” but all of them quit after the first session. Amateurs. We pulled up to the school at 8:26:21 and walked together into the school, in the order we always have. Kratos, Vulcan, Me, and Apollo all in horizontal line. Kratos’s footsteps made cracks in the pavement. Fat ass. We each went to our own sections of school. Vulcan to the engineering lab, Apollo to the art studio, Kratos with his jock posse, and me to the library. I’ve already read every book in there, so I just go there to think. “M!” I heard a familiar voice yell. It was my best friend, Nicolo. “Hey, Nico.” “What’s 2,000 times 67,896,231?” “135,792,462,000.” I replied almost immediately. “DAMMIT!” Did I mention he’s also a jock? Kratos came up behind him, along with the rest of the football team. They all had crushes on me, even Nico. Kratos has no idea. “Nico, stop macking on my sister.” “I’m not, bumfuck, we’re just talking.” Nico was smart. Really smart. Not as smart as me, obviously, but he’s smart for a normal person. He’s ashamed of it, though. He wants to fit in, to suck up to the jocks. I was the only one who knew who he really was. What was really going on in that mind of his. He doesn’t know my secret. My supernatural abilities, as my mom always says. He assumes that I’m just freakishly smart. The bell rang, and I got up. Nico graciously carried my backpack for me, and walked me to my first class, AP Statistics. Of course, I already knew all the material. I had to learn something, though. The rest of the school day was the same as the ones before. After school, I came home to a normal day in our house. The kitchen was clean, Kratos was working out, Apollo was painting on his walls, Vulcan was creating yet another booby trap to place in our house, and mom MIA. She hasn’t spoken to any one of us since we were 10, so we’ve kind of learned to fend for ourselves. Make our own breakfasts, drive ourselves to school, do our own dishes. Vulcan always asks me to manifest that Mom will talk to us, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I know why she isn’t talking to us. Because she’s scared. Scared of us. Scared of me. I went up to my room, and threw myself onto my bed. I wasn’t always this smart. Sure, I was born with my gifts, but they weren’t as developed as they are now. I had to train and train. Just like my siblings. We all have our own training programs that we’ve used ever since we were 14. While Vulcan’s and Apollo’s were more… laid back, Mine and Kratos’s were a little more intense (by a little I mean a lot). The training all kind of brought us together, like some struggle that we all shared.

I will not be writing more. Enjoy!

[moemoemammon]

I just found ur blog and read thru some of ur stuff and im in love !! Ur writing is nice to read, and always gives a nice picture of the situation

If its aight, could u do some headcannons for the demon bros Finding out mc goes real hard on housekeeping ? Im talking fast and good cleaning, does chores without problems, propably even cleans after them (totally doesnt mother them in anyway), all without complaint, mc just cares

Housekeeper MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

The fact that he didn't have to shove a mop and bucket into your hands like the evil stepmother has him like 👀👀

Out of every person he's met, you and Barb are the only ones that actually enjoy cleaning? And now he's wondering if you've been influenced by him in some way because got damn are those floors sparkling-

Ever since you've arrived, the house has been immaculate. But as much as he enjoys that, he worries that you aren't leaving enough chores for his brothers to do.

They're gonna be lazy at this rate, especially if you keep cleaning up after them like that. He's planning to sit you down and have a good talk about how you should rest a bit, and- D...did you polish his desk????

"MC... as grateful as I am to you, I thought I asked you to rest? You don't have to clean every little thing in this house. You're here as our guest, and more, so I won't have you behaving like a maid. But if you're that interested in keeping your hands busy, you may feel free to maintain my desktop. It looks as good as new, thanks to you."

Mammon

Oh, so you're one of THOSE types, huh? The goody goodies that like to make everything clean and sparkly, huh?? Well don't expect him to help ya!

Was an asshole at first. Made messes to see if you'd clean them, tried to dump his chores on you, etc. But now that you've stolen his heart? Yeah, he wants you to sit down.

You're messing up your hands with all that time spent scrubbing crevices and dusting ugly old paintings, when you could be spending time with him!

Tch, that's it! If it's chores that're keeping you from looking his way, he'll just finish them before you can do anything! Checkmate!

"You're always scrubbin' somethin'! Let my brothers take care of the messes, while YOU sit down and watch this movie with me! Ain't no point in watchin' it by myself, so I ain't takin' no for an answer!" "Huh?? Waddya mean 'when was the last time I vacuumed'??"

Levi

Oi oi oi...! What do you think you're doing with that feather duster?! You don't think you've got the right to approach his figures with it, do you?! WRONG!

But you quickly discover how ticklish Levi is, and he squirms out of your way while watching in horror as you... delicately handle every figure? And dust them from top to bottom, without so much as an accessory out of place..?

Wait... are you seriously okay with picking up all that trash?? S-some of it's sticky from all the junk food, and- Gah! Don't go messing around in his closet!!!

Yeahhh Levi doesn't let you clean his room lmao. It's way too stimulating to watch you carefully touch every surface in his room... I-it's like you're heaven everything with your presence, and...

"S-so yeah! The only things you're allowed to clean are the figures and the outside of Henry's tank! Nothing else, got it?! Anything more and I seriously won't be able to handle it...I won't even be able to sit still in my own room......." 👉👈

Satan

Satan found it funny how willing you were to take up every little chore there was to be done in the house and he's got to admit, reading is much more enjoyable in a tidy environment.

But what he REALLY wants to know is how you managed to dust off every single book in the house, his room included, without him?? Knowing?? And you've done every shelf as well, cleaned out the cobwebs behind it, and even repaired that little tear in the upholstery of his favorite arm chair????

Has also deduced that you're probably the maid character in the books that knows everything. Actually, you're a lot like Barbatos. What secrets are you hiding human 🔫

Just kidding. But yeah, when you insist on dusting his room, he follows you around the room and watches you. You know, just in case you fall or something falls on you! No other reason.

"As much as I like having you here all to myself, it makes me feel bad watching you do that by yourself. Why don't you we clean together? We'll get it done twice as fast, and when we're finished, I'd like to read a book to you. You remind me of a certain character from a murder mystery novel I've started."

Asmo

Eeehhh?!?!? You've seriously managed to organize both his endless skin care product collection, and his ENTIRE wardrobe?!? You're amazing...!

And you don't stop there. You were more than happy to clean his tub for him and everything, and you know how hard it is to get oil off the side of a tub, right? You're a lifesaver!

Asmo casually pawns off his chores too you. Oh, he just did his nails! Can you do the dishes? Ah, he just bought this outfit. Can you take out the trash? He's about to go out with his friends to a party, so be a dear and take care of the common bathroom for him?

Lucifer scolds the shit out of him every time he catches him doing that. You're welcome. But don't think Asmo won't repay you! He'll give you so much love, you'll be drowning in it! Figuratively or literally, depending on your preferences-

"Fufufu... if you wanted my attention, you should've just told me! You didn't have to go tidying up my shoe collection, but I'm happy you did~! If you keep spoiling me like this, I might not be able to keep my hands off of you! Unless... that's what you wanted?"

Beel

Things tend to get pretty messy with Beel around, with the trail of crumbs he always leaves in his wake, and how he manages to get every surface he touches sticky. But you must be a miracle worker...

You're like a living roomba, and his ravenous appetite is no match against your cleaning skills! You seem to predict when the food bits will fall, and it's thanks to you that he can eat without a care in the world!

It's actually kind of scary, though. He'll drop a bite of his sandwich and move down to retrieve it to eat, and... it's gone. Poof. Into the ether of the garbage can...

You can still rest once in a while though, you know? Beel offers to help you with the cleaning, and he's more than happy to let you climb up his shoulders to reach those high places. It makes him happy to know he can lend a hand.

"MC, I already cleaned over here so you don't have to do it. I cleaned there, too. That means you don't have anything else to do, so why don't you have a lunch break with me? It's not good to work so hard all the time."

Belphie

Belphie's one for the more observant brothers, so your clean freak habits didn't go unnoticed. He didn't know if you were obsessed with cleaning, or if you genuinely enjoyed it, but at least you were doing it without a fuss?

And man did you do a good job. Everywhere you cleaned was left with the lingering smell of vanilla and lavender, and... you know, the smell is making him sleepy.

Every pillow his head touches seems especially fluffy, too! When he found out you made a regular habit of washing and fluffing them, and they smell amazing... He feels like he's laying on a cloud...

He won't admit it genuinely, but he really does love what you're doing with the place. It makes him feel a little fuzzy inside when he finds his pillow on his bed, freshly laundered and soft to the touch. He clings to it extra tight those nights.

"You know if you keep this up, I might prefer the pillows to your lap. Ah, but don't worry, I don't really mean it. There's no way a pillow could replace you, no matter how good it smells. I think."

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 21 “No Fart Run”[Episode List]

After having a couple of beers, Tim challenges Dave to do a “no death” run on a particularly hard and fast-paced game. He gladly accepts the challenge, on the condition that Tim has to watch the entire run… while having his head dangerously close to Dave’s denim ass.

POV: Tim

No Fart Run

“…and the last one of our so-called friends just ditched us for, I quote, Leopardy!” I said, reading a message on my phone, commenting our bud Adam’s excuse for not wanting do anything tonight, Friday night, of all days.

Since the original plan was going out, Dave was wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans, whereas I had a white t-shirt and some sweatpants on, ‘cause I knew our buds were gonna ditch us at the last second so I didn’t even bother to change into something more appropriate for going out.

Truth to be told, there was a shitty weather outside and we all didn’t have anything big planned anyway, just a beer together at the usual place, as a way to wash the busy week away with some alcohol. To be honest, I don’t mind being at home, but I’m still going to make fun of everyone for being this lazy (though Leopardy! is that good, yes, I said it), despite being the king of lazy people myself.

My friend and roommate Dave wasn’t any less lazy than me, so yes we were both not-so-secretly relieved that we were going to spend the night at home just chillin’ and resting, so much so that as I read Adam’s message to my roomie, he immediately threw a can of beer at me. We had a good laugh about our “synchronized laziness” (in the form of mild alcoholism apparently), and we just headed for our beloved couch in the living room, discussing on what trashy movie we could watch together.

“Maybe Dana can join us.” I suggested.

“Oh. Am I not enough for you?” Dave said, jokingly offended.

“Sadly, no. Daddy’s hungry…” I replied, sounding as dumb as him.

He looked at me unimpressed. “Dana’s not in town anyway. That means you’re all mine.”

We both took a sip of beer and sat on the couch, Dave putting his feet on the coffee table in front of us. The TV was ON so we just mindlessly watched it while commenting the images on the screen, with my roomie sometimes replying with a very mature belch. We were just chillin’, we didn’t even need to put a trashy move on since almost all TV was trash anyway (except for Leopardy!, I must agree).

“By the way.” I said, changing the subject of our symposium. “I almost finished RunGun without dying.”

Calm down, ladies and gentlemen.

Both me and Dave are avid gamers, each of us having a particular set of skills. Maybe I shouldn’t even brag about this but we are pretty good, the bro sitting next to me especially.

RunGun is a deceptively simple game running on the fairly recent Play 4 (my main gaming console, which I brought here from my previous apartment), and it’s one of those “hard to master”, addicting, fast-paced platformers, you know the ones, with some shoot’em up elements thrown into it. It’s retro but also modern and we both enjoy it a lot, unsurprisingly. It’s not long, but it provides a tense challenge (just like my dick -this was a joke, laugh).

While we did beat the game and got an ending, we’ve both been trying to finish it as fast and as flawlessly as possible. However, being busy with our respective lives and jobs makes it hard to practice as much as we would have normally done with games like these.

“I’m impressed!” Dave replied, taking a big sip of beer, his way to propose a toast I guess. “Me too, actually. There’s a tricky saw cutter section in the final level that always gets me. And the boss is pretty tough too.”

Of course that implies that Dave only died in the final level, whereas I died a couple of times through the game, AND in the final level. As I said, he’s often a bit better than me.

“Well, I’m the one who’s impressed.” it was my turn to drink some beer in honour of someone’s skills.

“I think I can beat it with just a bit more practice. It’s doable.” he then said, reaching for the white gamepad on the coffee table, turning the console ON.

Looks like we were going to have a good old gaming night just the two of us, as it’s not like we had anything better to do, despite drinking. My mind went to the night Dave found out about my fart kink, in the worst (or best?) possible way. A night that was actually similar to this one, as it all happened while we were gaming. 

It was almost one year ago and we weren’t even roommates back then; time sure flies!

“You go first, handsome.” he said, handing the gamepad to me. “Let’s see those skills in action.”

As good as I am, I do tend to get a bit nervous when I do something while someone watches, even gaming sadly, but it’s all good. It’s just Dave, and RunGun, with all of its difficulty spikes (and, often, literally spikes), was all about memory so I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself too much. 

I breezed through the first few levels, easily defeating the mobs and the main bosses, even achieving some new personal records in the process; Dave occasionally complimented my skills and, while still making fun of me, was genuinely interested in seeing me pulling off the infamous “no death” run we were both trying to achieve.

“I swear if you dodge that giant hammer I’m gonna suck you off.” he joked.

Indeed, I dodged that and the rest of the level’s hazards quite easily, which prompted Dave to leap towards me to reach for my crotch (without actually touching it), his very mature way to root for me. He quickly resumed his previous position on the couch and kept watching.

For the last couple of levels I played much more carefully, occasionally getting hit (you have a couple of HPs luckily).

“Here come the fuckin’ saws…” I said, referring to the hazards my bro mentioned earlier.

I was sweating. Those circular blades were pretty common obstacles in the game, but in the final level they moved in different, disorienting patterns which would easily confuse anyone, kind of unfair game design we’re sure.

“You gotta jump over that one!”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?!”

Things got unsurprisingly tense indeed.

But despite doing my best… the game made the “DEAD :(” screen flash on the screen, before quickly re-loading to the last checkpoint. The saw cutter right before the final boss got me. Jumping over that is NOT the solution…

“Fuck!” I said, frustrated but oddly relieved that it was over.

It’s a short game if you speedrun through it as I said, but ~20 minutes felt like hours.

“I need another beer. Want some?” I said, standing up and heading to the kitchen, before waiting for the obvious answer, which came in the form of a “Yes.” said through a loud belch.

“That was a good run, man.” I heard Dave normally say from the other room. “Well, up until you failed miserably.”

I laughed. “Only one death, bro.” 

I came back with alcohol; sat next to him and handed him a can of beer. We both took a sip.

“Impressive! But shouldn’t the death counter say zero?” he mocked me.

“Oh you wanna compare our death counters?” I played along, navigating the game menu.

Indeed, the counter had Dave at 3 deaths while I only had 1. 

“Ohhh you actually went there. You grew a pair. In your 20s!” he said, laughing. “Congratulations, such a late-bloomer.”

“Shut up and swallow the truth.” I flexed.

“Shut up and pull my finger.”

Why do I even flex when I’m a guy who’s getting farted on by my bro… and enjoys it?!

Dave extended his arm to me so I could pull his index finger, knowing exactly that it was a low blow, as I went silent immediately, a reaction that made him laugh.

“Ohhh you’re done talking now?” he mocked me, with a smirk. He wasn’t being malicious of course. “I’ll just pull it myself…”

And he did. Dave was sitting on the other side of the couch with his legs resting on the coffe table (his feet sporting a pair of surprisingly colorful socks), one stretched, one bent, so I could see a good portion of his loose denim ass, which I actually managed to ignore until now. Indeed a fart came out the moment he pulled his own finger, and it was as loud as they come, not very long though. It did sound (and reek) powered by beer, but my bro is always gassy and I’m sure that the mere act of breathing is fuel for his blasts.

“See? That’s the one thing you’re good at!” I promptly said, commenting the fart, still making fun of his death counter.

“Oh you know what?” that smirk again. “Give me that thing.” he reached for the gamepad and started a new run.

“Challenge accepted?” I remarked. 

“Watch and learn.” he then turned to me, before actually starting a new run. “Also…” 

Dave adjusted his position on the couch, without taking his feet and legs off the small table. He bent his left leg (the one closer to me) up a bit more and pulled his ass back a few inches.

“You’re getting front row tickets.” he laughed.

To my surprise, he gestured towards his bent leg, literally inviting me to, well, squeeze my head under it so my face would end up in front of his denim ass. What the fuck.

“W-what?” I stuttered. As usual, Dave simply laughed at my awkwardness.

“Come on: it’s a win-win scenario for you.” 

I both love and hate how Dave is so chill and comfortable around my kink and I do wonder what he actually meant with that. He lifted his left leg up a bit more, his way to insist with his… peculiar invitation, and to ease my way in.

Speechless, I simply obeyed. I lied down towards my bud, squeezed my head under his leg and as expected I ended up in front of that wall of jeans, directly facing the blue denim fabric around my bro’s powerful ass. The stench from his previous rip was still somewhat there, but I tried not to inhale too much. His ass was overwhelming to me in that pose, but I could still see Dave’s face however, staring down at me, trying his best not to laugh.

How is he letting me do this is beyond me, but I appreciated.

“Bro, the game’s the other way.” he simply said, with a smirk. “Contain your thirst.”

Damn, I felt so stupid, but in my defense… anyone would be awkward around my bro sometimes: he being so chill and open-minded is… disorienting, much like the late-game hazards of RunGun.

Without saying anything to further embarrass myself, I turned around, facing the opposite direction. Despite being with my head under Dave’s leg, I still had a good view of the TV, right beyond my bro’s feet resting on the table, which wasn’t tall enough to block my view. So there I was, lying on the couch, with the back of my head brushing against Dave’s denim ass. I wouldn’t compare this situation to “getting a front-row ticket”, but I guess I deserve this.

If I truly had to watch his entire run like this, that meant that I was gonna have my head dangerously close to his ass for the next 20~ minutes, a treat and threat at the same time!

“By the way, if I get a Game Over, you get blasted.” he stated. I could sense his usual smirk through his words.

I don’t like this gimmick. Dave was good at the game so I couldn’t rule out that he was gonna die on purpose just to mess with me. So here I was in the tense in situation in which, on one hand, I was rooting for him to beat the game flawlessly… on the other, and I know this will make me sound indeed thirsty… I did want him to blast me.

Nonetheless, I watched my friend playing as if that was the most normal situation we both ever experienced. Just like me, he breezed through the first couple of levels, even faster than me, but each 2-3 levels you gotta face a boss: they’re mostly pushovers but when you’re in a rush, they can and will kill you instantly.

Dave was really good at RunGun and this first boss acts as a filter for most gamers. This giant enemy crab (a reference to a certain meme I’m sure) was actually fairly easy once you knew how to face it, but it still could cast one particular attack that was almost impossible to dodge… and indeed it was gonna do it, charging his laser beam.

“Get on the right side of the arena, quick!” I suggested, ‘cause I knew there was a safe spot there.

Dave laughed. “Sorry dude, from my point of view it looked like the voice came straight out of my ass.”

I mean… he’s not wrong. Either way, my bro followed his butt’s suggestion and indeed he ended up winning the fight fast, easily and unscratched. A portal for the next world appeared, but before Dave could step into it I noticed him lifting his left leg in real life.

I braced for impact. He didn’t die but of course he was still gonna blast me one way or another. I even closed my eyes, but the sound I heard were not the ones of a fart being ripped… but rather one being sucked in.

He could fart on command, something that he doesn’t do often but I guess he wanted to showoff so, still facing away from his denim ass, I once again expected my entire head to be blasted by one of my bro’s farts.

But once again, after a couple of seconds of air being sucked in, nothing came out. The leg went down as it was before, and Dave resumed playing as if nothing happened.

What kind of mind tricks was he playing?! He sucked air in, so I knew there was a fart brewing right behind me. I felt like there was some wild, dangerous beast waiting to land a surprise attack on me, but I tried to focus on the game and, truth to be told, Dave’s skills were a sight to behold.

He was fast, he had great reflexes, he practiced a lot but he was so good I couldn’t help to compliment the way he was speedrunning through the game, while occasionally making fun of how lucky he was being, something that he reluctantly admitted.

Boss #2, some kind of giant evil butterfly, but honestly a cakewalk for both of us.

“World 3 already, no deaths. Scared, Tim?” he jokingly asked.

I turned around to face him… well, in theory, as I was facing his denim ass instead, but before I could properly respond, he lifted his leg again. I ended up with my nose being tickled by the fabric of his denim as more air was being sucked in: a weird sensation, but I was surprised. Dave looked down at me with a silly smile, as if he too had no idea what was gonna happen next. I wanted to ask, but again, his leg went down. He then pointed at the TV, so I faced the other way, my eyes once again glued on RunGun.

But I wasn’t very focused this time.

I could sense his ass behind me being, well, charged. I swear I could hear the gas he sucked in trying to come out, like a dormant volcano reaching its breaking point; and after Boss #3 went down, I heard more air being swallowed by my friend’s ass, thus confirming the pattern I was suspecting: Dave was gonna suck more and more air in each time he’d beat a boss… and there are 8 of them.

Dave was playing RunGun… but he was also playing a mind game with me I swear. For me this was like an endurance test of some sorts: I really wanted him to win the game without dying but at the same I couldn’t help but to be eager to hear what the fart he was charging up sounded like.

My heart started racing fasted as he defeated yet another boss… while having only 1HP left!

“Oof. That was close, ammirite?” he said, laughing. What a teasing bastard (but I cannot complain)!

He moved a bit, just to nudge the back of my head with his ass.

“What’s the matter, Tim? Is something bothering you? Why don’t you turn around and tell me ahah?”

Again, my roommate wasn’t being malicious in any way, but at this point he was clearly amused by the whole situation: I knew that he was brewing a big one, just like he knew that I wanted him to blast me with that. I guess that teasing me was something that he found hilarious, and given my awkwardness and how admittedly weird my kink is, I couldn’t blame him.

More bosses went down, and more and more air got sucked in by the ass behind me. How Dave managed to store all of that gas was beyond me. He didn’t even flinch, he was holding it in like a pro. And a pro indeed he was at RunGun as well, as he finally reached the final world. 

He adjusted his position a bit, as if I wasn’t even there, because shit got serious.

“Alright, if you got any suggestion I’m willing to listen.” he said, while sprinting through the level.

I fully paid attention to the game this time, the scar of my previous defeat still hurting. Dave dodged a dozen of saw blades but he was clearly having a hard time now: that final series of hazards would make anyone sweat.

“Listen to me, listen to your ass!” I joked, referencing what he said before. “If you want to dodge that fucking final blade, don’t jump above it: run under it as it falls.” 

“That’s crazy…” he paused for a moment, his character on the screen doing the same. “I’m gonna do it. If I lose it’s your fault.”

“You’re not going to, trust me!”

This was one of the most tense moments in our lives (yes, sad lives). My bro displayed once again an impressive set of skills but he did follow my suggestion… and he beat the level. I was kind of mad that I didn’t think of doing that during my run, but I was happy that he reached the final boss. It was hard, but nothing compared to the level before it.

“FUCK YEEEEES” we both yelled as the boss went down, because we’re very mature adult men.

The arena was empty and one last, bigger, more eventful portal appeared. We… well, he did it, he successfully finished a “no death” run of RunGun, something that we tried to do for weeks. I was smiling like an idiot.

And respecting the established pattern, Dave sucked more air in, this time for dozens of seconds.

I actually tried to move my head away but his leg held me in position.

I didn’t understand, so I turned around to face him and his ass, after he finished charging up.

“Dude. You didn’t die once!” I said. “You don’t have to do it.”

He just laughed. “Who said anything about dying?” 

I faced the TV again and… “Game Over” was written on the screen. And then I remembered: that text would appear even if you successfully finish game. Bunch of bastards, both Dave and the game.

I slowly turned around, as if I was heading for a death sentence… and given what that ass had in store for me, what my bro was capable of when it came to farting… that would very well be the case. My entire face was again overwhelmed by that wall of denim, the dark blue fabric tickling my nose. Dave had that silly smirk drawn on his face, staring down at me: this was both a treat and a revenge.

“Looks like I’m good at both, dude.” he stated, holding his gamepad up so I could see it. “So…” he then said, while extending his arm to me. “Are you gonna pull my finger now?” he laughed.

I wasn’t really in the position to do that, as I was lying down with my face planted in his ass.

“You know what? I’ll just do it myself again, tsk.” 

And then I felt him push, his denim ass in front of me getting even closer. This time I didn’t have to brace for the impact, because the beast did land its surprise attack in the end. 

A thunder, a sudden thunder, that’s how I can describe it. Imagine a deep-sounding fart stock sound, only louder, manlier, prouder. I’m surprised his jeans could withstand such force of nature. My head was shaking and the blast almost forced me to close my eyes, but I didn’t want to, I wanted to see that beautiful sight of my friend’s denim ass. Dave’s facial expression was the one of someone visibly ripping a powerful, hard-to-tame fart, because that’s what it was: my bro was the fart master but this time even he had a hard time containing such an enormous blast in; after all, he sucked so much air that I’m surprised his ass didn’t explode before.

And speaking of hard, I too had a hard time containing something in: unlike Dave’s ass, my dick was gonna explode for sure. I instinctively rubbed the tent I pitched in my sweatpants against on the couch, effectively having a sexual intercourse with Dave’s fart.

I didn’t know how much time passed: 10 seconds? 20 seconds? The fart was still going strong and the more it kept going, the more I planted my face into my friend’s ass, fully embracing the literal vibrations through the denim. The stench was there, I’m sure it was a mixture of natural beer farts and on-command ones, and the sound reflected that mixture, as the impressive display of flatulence sounded both “meat-y” and “air-y”. With Dave around you have no choice but to get good at distinguishing what kind of farts he’s ripping, regardless of the kink.

The fart was deep-sounding but for a couple of seconds it went higher-pitched and even louder, to which Dave reacted with a genuinely surprised look, while still trying hard not to laugh like an idiot.

40 seconds perhaps? I swear this was Dave’s longest fart since he found out about my fetish. I felt completely overwhelmed as my sweaty face was basically now almost under that roaring ass, the fart messing with my eardrums and making my entire head shake due to its sheer power.

I’ll never be thankful enough to our buds for ditching us at the last second, considering this was the direct result of a lazy Friday night, turned into a beer-fueled gaming night. But I guess Dave didn’t mind either, as this was amusing to him. I was so thankful to him for accepting me but I would have never thought that he’d be this chill, and go this far to just, well, destroy my face with his well-known farts.

Probably one minute passed and, once again proving how far my friend would go, he lifted his ass, without interrupting the continuous long fart, and simply sat on my entire head, all while the blast kept going.

His ass was basically smothering me now, but dear God this was an incredible experience. I was sweating and the hot fart coming from Dave’s ass didn’t help at all, not counting how the fabric of his jeans was warm and rough. I just let my bro fully crush me, as my face was becoming one with the couch under Dave’s weight. 

After 20 more seconds, the fart seemingly started to lose some power, but it wasn’t over yet: it wasn’t as loud as before but I felt Dave pushing harder, as if he wanted to make sure he ripped every particle of gas he sucked in, making the fart as last long as he could in the process. 

The smell was almost unbearable now, further proof that whatever was being ripped all over me was a mix of natural gas and on command. I love how this started as a chill, deathless speedrun of RunGun, and now here I mean, technically trying not to die in real life under my friend’s denim ass, getting blasted by the longest fart I ever heard. And I also heard Dave laugh as he leaned a bit, amused by how much he was farting himself. 

“Almost done man…” he muttered, but I could barely hear him over the sounds his ass was making.

He pushed more and more, slowly leaning to ease the remaining gas out. I was covered in sweat and my nostrils were burning. Saying “this is hot” is an understatement: I felt lucky, really lucky, to have my bro do this to me. I stared at that jeans ass still erupting the fart out, closely inspecting the seams and textures of the fabric: how much time, in the last year, I spent my time here, under or in front of Dave’s ass? We definitely need a fart counter more than a death one.

Dave finally resumed his previous pose, stretching his legs on the table, not sitting directly on my head anymore, and lifted his left leg to finally let me go, but not before pushing hard one last time, ending his impressive fart with a loud, long toot.

Finally, silence.

“…wait!”

Incredibly enough, Dave managed to rip yet another, one last loud fart, but at this point my ears were so used to that sound that it felt like the natural continuation of the previous one, which probably was anyway. 7 more seconds and finally, at long last, that impressive display of manly gas ended. I swear it probably lasted around 3 minutes, it’s incredible.

I carefully moved my head away now, with my friend letting me go, no legs holding me down this time. I could catch a glimpse of Dave’s usual smirk: he was just proud of his own skills, both at the game and as a farter. I guess he wanted to teach me a lesson after I made fun of him, like a real bro would do after all.

“I don’t know if I should thank you or not at this point.” I sincerely said, smiling, as I sat on my side of the couch.

Dave carried on as if nothing weird happened between us. “You should be thankful I let you survive that.” he joked, rightfully bragging about his fart skills. “And that I’m not making fun of your death count of course.”

“Yeah… I think I completely lost any bragging rights tonight.” we both had a good laugh.

“Well, you’re still the gayest person in the room.” 

“Says the guy who lets plant my face in his ass.” I sounded snarky, but it’s a miracle I wasn’t a stuttering mess saying this.

“Another thing you should be thankful for!” he laughed at my comment, throwing his empty can of beer at me.

“I’m gonna get some more.” 

I didn’t even try to hide my boner this time. I was indeed simply thankful that Dave was so chill, maybe too much, if that’s even possible. As I opened the fridge to get more beers, enjoying the cold breeze, I heard my bro talking from the other room.

“Well, would you look at that…” he said, probably checking something on his phone. “They’re gonna make RunGun 2!” 

His comment was followed by a quick, short and loud fart which, given what I just experienced, definitely sounded like a treat.

And I couldn’t be more thankful indeed.

End of Episode 21

[wheelsup]

okay but can you imagine spencer washing your hair for you?

like, i never (ever) let anyone (at all) touch my hair, but i feel like he'd be really gentle about it, and there is just something so soft and tender to me about the idea of washing someone's hair for them 🥺

that’s my dream <3 ik you didnt specifically ask for a blurb but i think about this very often. i wrote two versions of this, but this one (with two bickering best friends who are v much in love) won my heart. 

wc: 1.6k   contains: friends (to crushes, maybe ;) ), injured reader. gn!reader

-

“Spence, I promise you that I can do it by myself,” you huffed, attempting to yank off your tank top as you walked toward the hotel bathroom, using only one arm while trying to keep the other as still as possible.

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you didn’t sound like you were going to cry,” he snickered, following hot on your trail as you tried to escape his hovering. 

“You’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh really? Lift your arm up, then.” He leaned his hip against the marble counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to do it. One obnoxiously smug eyebrow arched on his forehead.

Sometime during the case, you’d gotten into a brief tousle with a suspect, who just had to run away when approached. If Morgan had been there, you wouldn’t have even batted a lash, but he wasn’t. So not only had you detained him by yourself, you also wound up with a minor pulled muscle in your shoulder. 

You shot him a sarcastic smile, toothless and irritated, and raised your right arm into the air. He let out an airy scoff. 

“Other one, smart ass.”

Your arm dropped down to your side, your smile falling with it as you turned sharply towards the shower. 

“Look, I’m disgusting right now. So either I suck it up and shower, or you’re going to smell me until the day we solve this case.”

Spencer’s nose crinkled at the gross truth. He wasn’t ungentlemanly enough to tell you, but sharing a bed with a coworker was quite a quick way to discover if they were in need of a shower or not. Your shoulder might be out of service, but both of you could agree that hygiene was a bigger priority. 

“You can’t even move. Just… just let me help you.”

You snorted. “Nice try, Reid. I’m not letting you shower with me.”

He rolled his eyes at your use of his last name. You only called him that when you were annoyed with him. He pushed off the counter and turned to the wall, hitting the light switch and earning a shriek from you as the room suddenly went dark. 

“I won’t look,” he shrugged, amusing no one but himself. 

“You’re a clown, you know that?” you muttered under your breath, drawing back the shower curtain and fumbling around, searching for the knobs in pitch black. “Absolutely fucking theatrical.” 

You found them moments later and ran the water, testing the temperature on the back of your hand. By the time it went from cold to warm, you noticed that he still hadn’t moved. From the sliver of light peeking under the door, you could make out just his silhouette in the corner, perched on the vanity. 

He was being stubborn about this. That, and the comforting fact that you couldn’t see a single thing –– thankfully, not even his face –– wore you down.

“Close your eyes,” you murmured. 

“It’s already pitch black in here ––”

“Close your eyes, Reid.”

Sighing through his nose, he did just that. To make sure you knew it, and also maybe just to be annoying, he made a show of getting off the counter and turning himself around to face the wall. You peeled out of your clothes as quickly as you could. In the process, you caught the long shower curtain under the heel of your foot and, as you stumbled over it, accidentally dragged it along, sending the metal curtain hooks screeching as they slid along the bar.  

The second you found your ground, you immediately shot daggers into the back of Spencer’s head, waiting for him to make a joke. As if he could feel them, he bit back his quip. Not without letting a barely contained cackle slip under his breath. 

“Okay,” you warned, stepping into the shower. Grabbing the end of the shower curtain, you pulled it tightly over your body to cover yourself as you poked your chin out to talk to him. “I’m in.”

Spencer turned and approached the shower, eyes still shut with his hands out in front of him, feeling the walls for guidance. He was still mocking you for making him close his eyes. You raised your brows; he must’ve thought he was quite funny. 

“You look like Velma when she loses her glasses.”

That knocked the funny bone right out of him. His hands dropped to his sides.

“Just get your hair wet and hand me the shampoo.” 

You drew the curtain shut again as you dipped your head under the shower stream, coming back moments later with sopping wet hair and a little bottle of complimentary hotel shampoo. 

He let you sit on the floor of the bathtub, just slightly removed from the spray of the water. Your back was to him, as he kneeled down on the tile floor, just outside of the bathtub so he didn’t have to get wet. You bent your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them.

Spencer first pushed up the sleeves of his sweater as far as he could before deciding to remove it altogether for the sake of protecting the wool against stray water. The cuffs of his work shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows as he got to work.

Taking a healthy quarter-sized amount of shampoo into his palm, he lathered it between his hands before running soapy fingers through your scalp. The pads of his fingertips softly dug in as he carefully massaged the shampoo in.

When he started working his fingers in patterns, putting pressure near your temples and increasing it as he dragged them up the curve of your scalp, you let your eyes close. He was getting rid of a headache you didn’t even realize you had. 

The tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders eased a little, and it made him think about how much you probably needed this. One of his hands came down to massage the muscle between your neck and your good shoulder, knowing it was best to just let the hot water do its magic on the bad one. 

When the shampoo had been sufficiently lathered, he stood up and detached the shower head, bringing it down to you so you didn’t have to move. You leaned your head back for him as he carefully rinsed the soap out.

You weren’t going to ask, but thank God Spencer told you to hand him the conditioner next. This, he slathered all over the ends of your hair, making sure all of it was sufficiently covered in conditioner before loosely twisting it into a low, makeshift pony for you. 

“Mm. I was about to ask how you’re so good at haircare,” you chuckled lowly to yourself, in a half-sleepy voice with your forehead resting on your knees. Dangerously close to falling asleep. “Then I remembered what you used to look like.”

You had a lazy smile on your face just thinking about the days where Spencer’s hair used to be down to his shoulders. He looked so pretty like that (not that he didn’t look pretty now, too), you always wondered why he got rid of it. 

“Remember when I got shot in the knee?” he hummed, returning to work your shoulder. He adorned a tiny smile of his own as he started to reminisce. “You came by my house at least once a week. Brought me meals, watched movies with me. Helped distract me from the pain. Even drove me to my physical therapy appointments.” 

You mm-hmm’d that you remembered.

“You pretty much did everything shy of helping me bathe. Though, I feel like you would’ve helped with that, too, if I asked.”

You both laughed at that. You hadn’t really noticed the parallels of your situation, being injured and needing his help for once. He was happy to repay the favor. 

“I’ll, uh. Let you wash your body yourself,” he said, coming out of his daydream for a moment. He rinsed his hands off and got up, patting down his wet hands on his trousers. With one nod from you to confirm that you’d be able to do it, he quickly exited the bathroom to give you privacy. 

You emerged seventeen minutes later, clad in pajamas with towel-dried hair. Spencer was still awake as you crawled onto the bed beside him, more than ready for bed after that. He looked to the side to ask you how the rest of your shower was, and before he could get it out, you shuffled up next to him, winding one arm around his and resting your head on his chest.

“I take it you had a good shower?” he laughed. This was one of his “I told you so” moments, and for once, you didn’t mind it. 

“Mhm,” you smiled, chuckling behind it as you shut your eyes. You were falling asleep fast. “Spence, the scalp massage…” 

“Was good, right?” he boasted, inflating his own ego a bit. 

You nodded against his shoulder, not caring if you helped blow up his ego another two sizes. Burrowing deeper into the covers, nestling tighter against Spencer, you got one more quip in before falling asleep. “S’good that I think I have a crush on you now.” 

Joke or not, he pulled the blanket higher until it reached your chin, holding you with both arms and kissing the top of your head before falling asleep himself.

*

*

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[chemicalpink]

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Words: 4.7k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint really hard, childhood friends to lovers AU

Warnings: unprotected sex, bathroom sex, infidelity, JK is a heartthrob that is bad at feelings, YN realises she’s been in love with JK all along.

A/N: this is me trying to write longer fics, I liked how this one came out yayyy. This goes out to the @thebtswritersclub​ monthly prompt _____ to lovers, in this case it’s childhood friends to lovers. I just- I really liked how it came out, I’m so excited to know what you guys think of it.

Summary: Falling in love is such a curious thing in life, Jungkook would know best, after pinning over you for years on end, only to have his best friend take away his opportunity, or does he?

The sun was shining brightly over the park as you made your way down the slide, hot skin scorching at the contact with the yellow plastic, although you couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as your mother would, meeting Sungho at the end of it, who was covering his eyes as best as his arms would allow him to do, summer was almost coming to an end and you two had decided to spend every single second of it together, much to both of your mothers’ dismay who had long decided to take turns to tire both of you out by the neighbourhood park, nothing too exciting, if it weren’t for your young imaginative minds combined, which turned you into the closest a six year old could get to being a menace.

As you smiled brightly at your friend, you couldn’t help but turn your head towards an almost inaudible whimper coming from the shaded side of the park, finding a kid around your age plopped down by the tree, desperately drying his eyes with the back of his hand, small sobs coming out of his lips as three other kids, which you knew to be a little older than you and quite disrespectful at that, kept laughing at the boy, so really, what else were you supposed to do if not come in to save the day. “Come on Y/N they’ll make fun of us too” Sungho said as he tried to tug you away, only to have you stand your ground firmly

“If they make fun of me, I won’t cry” you crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest

“Y/N let’s just go”

“You go, Sungho” Sungho was always the type of kid that your mother kept reminding you to be more like, always righteous, never picking fights like you were known to do, but you really couldn’t stand watching the mysterious kid crying by himself while no one else did anything in the slightest. So you stood between him and the three kids that were still making fun of him, head high, fists up by your sides in a superhero pose “You shouldn’t make fun of others”

“Why don’t we make fun of both of you then, Y/N?”

“At least I can put my shirt shirt when I’m dressing myself, Areum” the girl looked down for half a second before staring you down, full of rage before huffing and turning around in true mean girl fashion.

You turn back to find a pair of bambi eyes staring at you, sobs silenced, although his chest still showed him trying to fully catch his breath. You extend your hand for him to take it so that he could stand up “I’m Y/N what’s your name?”

“I’m Jungkook” you were quick to grab his arm and pull him to where Sungho had watched the whole scene with Areum, now staring at the way you dragged the slightly shorter boy towards him

“Well Jungkook, this is Sungho and I just decided that all of us three are going to be best friends forever” the small boy smiled at that, bunny teeth showing in the process, eyes sparkly with wonder and pure appreciation, contrasting the look on Sungho’s face.

“Y/N I think you need to have girl friends to have these sleepovers with, Jungkook and I are boys” Sungho says as soon as you pass him the mirror and he is left staring at his reflection with a ton of glitter eyeshadow on his face, you turn to look at Jungkook, who is currently sprawled out playing with his nintendo, a set of pigtails adoring his head along with the hottest pink lipstick you could find

“I don’t mind it” he stuffed his mouth with chips as he continued to play on his console, not sparing any of you a look, although you smiled at him fondly, grateful to have him play along whenever Sungho didn’t feel like it, which seemed to be more and more as all of you grew older.

“Well I’m going to take this off” he said as he ran into the bathroom to wash his face. Good luck trying to get rid of glitter.

You huffed out a sigh at how boring it was getting if Sungho didn’t like to play your games, along with Jungkook being stuck inside his own little world. “This is so boriiiing”

“It was your idea Y/N”

“Yeah but you guys are no fun”

Jungkook pauses his game to turn to look at you “We can watch a movie if you’d like”

If someone were to tell 6 year old you that twelve years later, the kid that used to make fun of you would turn into your best friend, you would have probably laughed in their face, although as years went by, Areum had finally gotten better in terms of personality, up to the point where she had a full on talk with you before you decided to give it a try, even more so as she now took it as her job to protect you in high school, seeing as she was a year older than you.

“Jungkook has changed” the brunette said while taking a seat next to you inside the cozy smoothie shop, crumpling up her receipt inside her bag distractedly as you just stared at her, not knowing what had prompted her to talk about your best friend, Jungkook wasn’t exactly what one would consider popular, especially amongst the higher grades, especially not given the bickering grudge he held against Areum after all those years.

“What do you mean?”

“Just- seems like before summer he was this scrawny little thing, deer eyes, soft smiles” you looked at her intently, Jungkook had gone on vacation with his family for weeks as soon as finals were over, leaving with the promise of hanging out for the few days before school started again, similar to how you were now hanging out with Areum, her having arrived back a few hours before Jungkook “Now- well”

There were a million thoughts running inside your mind, some seemingly more plausible than others, tow hich yopu found yourself asking “Areum, did you fuck Jungkook?”

“I mean- we were both staying at the same hotel Y/N” Areum sipped on heir smoothie as a way to act coy about it, wide eyes turned the other way at the prospect of having said out loud that her latest conquest was none other than little Jungkook, the guy she had always made fun of for one or another reason

“Oh god you slept with Jungkookie” and you really tried to picture her, accepted into college, beautiful Areum, long lean legs, model faced Areum, flirt queen that always seemed to go for older guys Areum, paired up with sweet Jungkookie, sure, your best friend was cute, handsome even, there was no denying it, he was just not- Areum level handsome, Areum liked going out to party, let men shower her in drinks while Jungkook absolutely loved staying home battling Sungho in the newest video game that was around “I-I have no words”

“Y/N- Y/N don’t judge until you’ve tapped it” your friend seemed to space out for a second, as if looking back at her time with Jungkook, dreamily. “The guy got buff”

And sure he did, not only did Jungkook was now full of muscle, he also apparently had renewed his wardrobe, bought a motorcycle and apparently had even grown a few centimeters taller, or at least that much was said by Sungho as you three met up for lunch the day before classes started again, trying to catch up as you did every year when the three of you didn’t get a chance to hang out much.

“So are we getting that newly released game Kook?” Sungho mentioned in what appeared to be the background, your eyes completely fixated on whomever the man sitting in front of you was, definitely not your best friend Jungkook.

“Nah dude, I sold all my consoles and games to buy my bike” your eyes widened at the confession, probably mirroring the uttermost shocked look that Sunho was also sporting. Jeon Jungkook selling his videogames was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. You were about to make a comment before you heard a very familiar voice behind you, making you turn your head towards it.

“Jungkookie, you wanted me to come over?” her eyes had that sparkle in them which you have come to recognise as her being infatuated by someone, even if she didn’t really talked about it openly, you turned towards Jungkook in disbelief

“Yeah, Areum, lose my number”

You consciously close your mouth at the exchange as Areum backed away from the table muttering an ‘oh..okay’ as Jungkook smiled daily at her, your eyes lock in surprise with Sungho’s, both of you silently agreeing that this Jungkook was certainly a new side neither of you could yet guess whether or not you would continue to be able to befriend, although the history between the three of you spoke volumes.

And just like that, enough to get whiplash from it, Jungkook’s lazy uninterested eyes were replaced by the squinty smile you had learned to adore over the years, bunny teeth showing as his laugh resonated in the restaurant “Oh god you guys should have seen your faces!”

Your eyes travelled along the expanse of the space you three were in, looking at Sungho for a clue to pick up about what was happening, coming up empty handed as he spoke first “Dude I almost had a heart attack, I thought you had sold your games!”

“Oh no that I did” Jungkook took a sip out of his drink calmly

You tried not to show how nothing made sense in your mind “And that thing with...Areum?”

He placed his cup down, looking at you with wide eyes humming softly “Yeah that was a thing too, she’s been texting me non stop after we hooked up. I’m just glad I’m back with you guys”

So Jungkook had changed, that much was true, just not as much as he let people believe. Sure enough, the guy was now pure muscle, rode a bike everywhere, and made it his lifeplan to conquer as many girls as his schedule allowed him too; he also made a few other friends outside of your friends' circle, enough for rumours to go around about him being involved in shady business, or him hooking up with somebody’s mum. Either way, if you were to turn a blind eye to his social persona, Jungkook was still your and Sungho’s little Jungkookie, bambi wide eyes that teared up whenever it was movie night and you picked some chick flick, bunny teeth and loud giggles as he played a prank on Sungho, even though you could tell his heart just wasn’t in it as it was before.

“I’m gonna ask Y/N out” Sungho has asked Jungkook to meet him outside of campus on the first weeks of college as all three of you decided to attend together, uninterested on whatever it was that he was about to tell him, but trying to keep up his fractured friendship with the man (and you) he had shown up, even so a little fashionably late to make his point clear.

“And you’re telling me this because..”

“I don’t want to make it awkward, Jeon” Jungkook scoffs before rolling his eyes at Sungho “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you little boy crush on her for years”

“What I think you haven’t noticed is that I don’t do feelings” Jungkook retorts as he approaches him “And although I find Y/N to be quite fuckable if you ask me, I appreciate her enough not to put her in a weird place like you’re about to do, asshole”

Once weeks rolled around, things kept on being as the were after that fateful summer where Jungkook completely reinvented himself, even as semesters came and went, Jungkook grew a bit more separate from both Sungho and yourself, although it became a little harder to discern whether it was because of Jungkook or due to the fact that Sungho and you had started dating during the first semester of college. Sungho had no real answer to give you when asked about it, saying that outside of the scheduled movie night you three kept on sharing, he barely even texted Jungkook on his own.

“I heard your girl is getting married” his friend said as he handed him an opened beer, taking his place back against his bike in the middle of the night after some race they had gone to near the outskirts of Seoul.

Jungkook took a swing out of the bottle, squinting at the questionable choice in alcohol “I don’t have a girl Jihoon”

“Oh? Then what’s Y/N?'' he felt the blood draining from his face, heart heavy, breath hitching inside his throat as soon as your name left his lips. Of fucking course Sungho would try to marry you before you graduated. That bastard.

It was quite funny really, Jungkook knew from the very start, back when all three of you had 6 years old and you had saved him from a set of mean kids in the park, that Sungho was never fond of him, or rather, of the relationship you had developed with him, sure, the two men had bonded over a few shared interests as they grew up, but the only thing that kept them together was you. Sometimes Jungkook guesses it could have been him instead of Sungho, asking you out, sharing nights together, even being about to get married. But those thoughts were only wishful thinking, he had long ago decided that you deserved so much more than what he could give you, what with his eternal fear and inability to give himself up to others. So he had let you go, never thinking about the possibility of Sungho taking a place he wasn't worthy of either.

"Good for her"

It wasn't long after learning that you were engaged, that the invitation arrived to his apartment, just a few days after graduation. It wasn't really a surprise anymore, even back when he first heard the news, it wasn't that surprising, he guessed it was the years of knowing both you and Sungho, learning your patterns, that he had somehow seen it coming. It didn't make it any less hard to wish you weren't about to walk down the aisle to a man that wasn't him though. But he kept repeating to himself to stop being selfish, he had lost his chance, not that he ever had one to begin with, but as long as you were happy, he would be too.

And you really did seem happy, so he was willing to just ignore the way that his chest seemed to constrict every time your eyes locked on his from across the room as the rehearsal dinner, you were sporting a gorgeous emerald dress, the same colour as when you two first met eighteen years back, his mind spinning with impossible scenarios as each minute that passed really just turned out to be a minute closer to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, one that was supposed to be his best friend at that.

“Bride’s or groom’s” A sweet female voice called him as he sipped on his fifth? sixth? champagne flute, finding a woman staring at him with what he has come to recognise as lust.

“Eh.. you could say both”

A glimpse of recognition could be seen in her eyes before she spoke again “You must be Jungkook then, the overseeked bachelor”

“In the flesh” He smirked at her as she took a hold of his hand, guiding him upstairs to where you and your soon to be husband had booked bridesmaids and groomsmen alike for the night. Not that the blonde had anything to do with how utterly horrible he was feeling about the whole wedding situation but perhaps fucking his frustrations out would help just a little.

Jeon Jungkook was never the one to stick around until morning, that much was true, and although he might be known for a varying of unspeakable things, nothing could have prepared him for what he had to witness at ungodly hours.

He picked up the rest of his clothing after half dressing himself, not even sparing a second glance at the woman that was laying on her bed peacefully, careful not to make more sounds than the inherently necessary, his curiosity is peaked as he hears faintly moaning and skin slapping skin coming from the room next door, seeing the door barely open, and against his better judgement he peeks inside only to feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood rushing inside his ears as he can’t seem to look away from the image presented to him. Sungho, your soon to be husband, the one that he used to consider his best friend for years on end, the oh so righteous Sungho, ever morally correct Sungho, bending your other so-called best friend and maid of honour, Areum, over the comforter as he fucked into her. A few hours before he got married to you. After everything that he had put him through, making him believe that it was in your best interest top let you go, that he should have handed you over to him, that he was the best option out of the two of you to build a life with.

Jungkook sees red and doesn’t quite remember anything other than Areum running out of the room as he punches Sungho in the face, receiving some punches back.

“You absolutely disgust me”

The bastard has the guts to laugh at him “You know, Jeon” he goes to inspect his face in the mirror “If you burst Y/N’s bubble, you’ll forever be remembered as the stupid little boy that was jealous enough on her wedding day to ruin her life”

Jungkook clenches his fists by his side before deciding to turn his heels and leave the room, vision still blurry in anger, breathing ragged, a small trickle of blood making its way down from his eyebrow as he almost automatically walked himself to the other side of the hostel where he knew you must have been resting, taking a few too many second to decide to knock on the door.

“Jungkook? What are you- oh god” sleep seems to leave you as soon as your eyes lock on his beat up face, him smiling at you in a futile attempt to have you not worry that much about his well being, but of course you were already searching for a first aid kit as he took a seat on your bed “Jungkookie, what happened?”

And perhaps he didn’t think it through that much, but he couldn’t let you walk yourself into a marriage blinded by the persona Sungho had always made you believe he was. “Y/N” he took your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing any more antiseptic into his cut “You’ll hear,a nd probably have already heard, too much shit about me”

His eyes beg you to stare at him intently, and although the whole scenario had you giggling out of nervousness, it soon died down “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N- Sungho is not the man he’s made us think he is” your eyes scan his face for any more clues on what he’s saying a syou feel a beeping sound closing in on your ears, overwhelmed by the situation “And he’ll probably say this is me just being a jealous asshole after being in love with you for more than half of my living years but-”

You stare at him in horror as your hands remove themselves from his hold as if he was burning, standing up from where you were seated next to him, feeling your whole world being crushed down a few hours before what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life “No” you take a step back as you hold your chest, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes “Jungkook please don’t do this shit to me”

“Y/N just- don’t marry Sungho” somehow he had willed his voice to remain calm

Your head shook fervently at him, as if somehow the action would make him retreat his words “Sungho loves me, Jungkook”

His eyes were ice cold at your words “He loves you enough to fuck Areum a few hours before making you his wife”

He really didn’t mean the bite on his words as he said them, this had nothing to do with you and everything to do with that asshole you called finacé, so he could completely understand when through your tears, chest heavy with rage and head spinning you asked “Please leave”

And he did.

Everything seemed like a fever dream. The words that Jungkook had said, the implication that it had. And really, if it weren’t for the fact that Jungkook was gone from the whole ordeal, you could have sworn your life that it was nothing other than a nightmare, Areum was as bubbly as ever, helping you get ready. Sungho’s good morning text still found its way into your inbox. Jungkook had not only accused you fiancé of cheating, but had said he had always been in love with you, no further proof to his words, so you decided to go as planned, yet you found yourself hyper aware of every move Sungho made, especially when they involved Areum.

You stood in your pristine white dress in front of a couple dozens of guests as traditional words were spoken, your mind a thousand miles away as you kept on looking towards the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would open up, Jungkook would show up and stop you from making what could potentially be the worst mistake of your life.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." your eyes trail to the soor, yearning to hear Jungkook’s voice amidst the otherwise silent chapel, but it never came.

“Hey, Y/N come dance with us,” one of your bridesmaids say as the night progresses after dinner, some loud beat taking over the venue at the reception, making everyone stand up to dance, including your now-husband as you find yourself sulking sitting on your designated table.

“I’m fine, you go” you try to flash her the biggest smile you can as she goes, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Thoughts that mainly involved Jungkook, figuring that after all these years, life had managed to finally separate you, heart yearning to have him close to you, the more you became aware of your current life path, the more you realised what a humongous mistake you had made. You had always thought that marrying Sungho would give you a sense of utter happiness, of fulfillment, whether what Jungkook said was true or not, as you watched your husband having the time of his life without you. If he were Jungkook, he would be seated right by your side.

Jeon Jungkook, as deviated as he appeared to be to everyone, as much as he slept around, he had demonstrated to be the most loyal human being by your side up until the last second of your friendship, unlike Sungho, he had always been interested in what you wanted to do, had always let your voice be heard, had helped you through rough times when Sungho was nowhere to be seen, perhaps you had chosen the wrong best friend to fall in love with a few years ago, the wrong man in your life to marry. It had been Jungkook all along. It could have been Jungkook all along.

Your eyes fixate on the way that Sungho whispers something on Areum’s ear and you feel your blood boil, more out of self-pity and annoyance at letting such a man manipulate you rather than jealousy as you stand up to make your way to the bathroom, in hopes of freshening up before coming up with a plan to fix this mistake.

You sigh as you hold yourself up by the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, pondering just how deep you’ll have to dig to come out of the mess when you hear an all too familiar deep chuckle behind you “So you realised”

You turn your back to the mirror to face Jungkook “That Sungho was an asshole or that I’m in love with you?”

His eyes turn into those deeply surprised deer shape you remember from when he was younger for a split second before they’re filled with something else between lust and deep appreciation as he backs you up further against the sink, a tattooed hand coming up to your chin “Does that mean I get to kiss you with no regrets now?”

“Would you kiss a married woman, Jungkook?” you ask playfully, matching the brattiness in his tone

“Only the ones whose husbands are assholes” and so his lips capture yours in a sweet quick kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in once again, escalating from a very much due kiss filled with words that are unable to be said, into a fiery pit in the low of your stomach at the prospect of kissing Jungkook while still being in your wedding dress, just a few hours married and kissing another man.

Jungkook’s hands have abandoned their place on your figure in favour of trying to undo the little buttons on the back of your dress, breaking the kiss to complain “God just how many buttons does this dress have?”

Soon enough your dress lays forgotten on the floor, matching lingerie covering your body as Jungkook has most of your body up against the mirror, panties aside in favour of having him fingering you, arms almost failing to keep you upright as he mouths at your skin, moans escaping your lips regularly as he pumps and curls his fingers inside you, lewd noises taking reverbating on the small bathroom’s walls, a faint trail of bass coming in from the party “God you’re so perfect Y/N” he grunted as you heard his zipper coming down before feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, his hand coming up to grip your hair making you face the mirror, makeup completely wrecked, the sight almost unrecognisable to you, a slight burning but pleasurable sensation on your scalp “I bet that bastard Sungho wouldn’t be able to wreck you like this” without further notice entering you from behind, your walls clenching against him as you felt him slowly but firmly making his way in and out of you at a building rapidly pace, a moan slipping past your lips and Jungkook shushing you in exchange as he increases his speed and you bit your lip to forbid any noises from coming out, afraid of being heard even when you knew it would be almost impossible to do so over the loud party noises, this bathroom being so far away from it.

Jungkook had placed your right leg up the sink, hitting an even deeper spot that had you building your orgasm at an incredible speed, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling him completely inside you as heat pooled in your lower belly.

“K-Kook I’m gonna-ah! I’m gonna cum” a few flicks on your clit with his expert fingers as he helped you keep yourself upright did the trick as Jungkook made sure to somehow thrust even deeper, a loud moan scaping you as he spilled his warm seed inside you, quickly adjusting back his boxers and trousers as one of his fingers collected some cum that was dripping down your thigh to push it back in, letting go of you to hold yourself up against the sink, pulling your panties back in place.

“Think that counts as a wedding gift?” he turns to leave the bathroom, leaving you heaving to haphazardly step inside your dress as you trail behind him, finding him resting against a wall, his bike roaring a few meters away as he smiles your way knowingly as he puts on his helmet, throwing another one your way "So.. all ready to leave that asshole of a husband now or should I wait another 15 years?"

[libraryofloveletters]

also. 15+16 with eddie fluff/comfort including chris because he’s adorable

You Feel Like Home

Eddie Diaz x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of alcohol

Prompts: #15: “Did you let yourself in?” // #16: “How did you get in my house?”

Category: fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: here’s a lil something because I haven’t posted a x reader in so long. Also I didn’t check for errors cause I'm lazy so ignore any mistakes :) 

----

It’s raining, the streets were drenching with water and muck which you found yourself staring at as you sat in your car at the intersection.

You had left your job, more like you were fired for something you didn’t do but you hated your job, 100 and 10% despited it and everyone there- needless to say, you didn’t mind not being there anymore.

The shitty weather on top of the idea of having to find a new job was putting more than damper on your day. So here you were in the middle of the day driving to your best friend’s house. He doesn't like to admit that he’s your best friend but he is and you both knew that.

The driveway was empty and the house was dark, at least from what you could see. Hopping out of the car, you make your way to the front door, the rain drenching your clothing. The key to his house hanging from the bunch you held in your hand, you let yourself in.

“Anyone home?” shouting into the dark house, slipping off your shoes.

There was no answer, you assumed Eddie was at work and Chris was still at school which made sense considering it was 2:30 on a Friday afternoon.

A puddle of water trialed behind you on your way to the bathroom, stopping to get a towel from the cupboard. The wet clothes get stripped off and tossed into the tub, making a mental note to come back and put them in the dryer after you get something to wear.

The towel now wrapped around you, you find your way down the hallway and into Eddie’s bedroom. There was a basket of folded laundry on the bed, deciding that it’s probably better to get something from the basket than to tumble through his drawers.

Just as you go to drop the towel, you hear the front door open and then a woman’s voice.

“Shit shit shit” you mumble to yourself and look around the room frantically- there’s no way you could get dressed before the person gets to the room, you have no choice but you stay the way you are.

The footsteps approaching the room, a knock on the door before it opens, Carla sticks her head in the room and you let out a breath of relief.

“Jesus, it’s just you” sitting on the bed, you smile at her and she laughs softly.

“Who’d you think it was hun?”

“I thought Eddie had come home, with a woman. That would have been hard to explain- ya know, a woman in a towel in his bedroom while he’s not home.”

“Mhm hm,” Carla has one of her famous mischievous looks on her face. “Sure, because it’s normal for you to be half naked in his bedroom when he isn't home.” She laughs.

“Were you waiting for him?” she teased, your face twists and you groan.

“Carla! No, god. I had a shitty day and I wanted to hang out. It was raining cats and dogs when I got here and my clothes got wet.” you explain what happened and she gives you a hum, stepping back out and leaving you to change.

You can hear laughter coming from the bedroom down the hall, you make your way there. Chris sat on his bed, looking out his window while he was on the phone.

“Love you too dad, bye” the phone is set beside him on the bed, you knock on the door and Chris looks back, his face lighting up when he sees you.

“Hey kiddo” smiling at the boy who’s now making his way over to you, you step into the room and meet him halfway.

“Hi! What are you doing here?” he asks you, hugging you.

“Came by to see your dad but he wasn’t home. I’m better now because you’re free” looking down at him, Christopher laughs and holds your hand as the two of you walk down the hallway to the living room. Carla brings him a snack and joins the two of you in the living room, Christopher telling you both about his day at school.

----

Eddie runs to the front door from his truck, the rain had been pouring all day.

“I’m home!” he shouts, as he steps in only for Carla to shush him from the kitchen.

His face screws and he makes his way down the hallway to Christopher’s room but he wasn't in there. Carla sat in the kitchen reading her book, she smiles when he steps in the kitchen.

“Hey, where’s Chris ?” he asks, washing his hands and pulling a pot out of the cupboard.

“Shower,” shutting the book, she slips it into her bag. “You’re going ?” Eddie glances over his shoulder, pouting slightly. Carla always helps him with dinner and truthfully, she’s the better cook out of the two.

“I’ve got myself a hot date tonight” She tells him, giving him a smile before making her way to the front door.

Eddie follows her, “what? really? But who’s going to keep me company while Chris does his homework ?” his hand coming up to his chest as he sighs dramatically.

Carla’s hand meets his, patting his chest. “Chris is done with his work, he had help” nodding towards the couch, Eddie follows her gesture to see you sleep on the couch.

“When did- are those my clothes ?” his mouth hung in disbelief.

Why were you asleep on his couch in his clothes ? He wasn't even home, how the hell did you get in ?

“Mhm hm” Carla hums, a soft laugh slipping past her lips. “Have fun sugar, I'll be back in the morning. Tell lil man I said bye” She steps out, pulling the door shut behind her.

The pattering of feet pulled Eddie’s attention away from a sleeping you on the couch.

“Dad!” Chris’s smile lit up the room, Eddie found himself smiling at his son.

“Hey buddy” he kneeled to hug him, holding him close after a long day at work.

“How was work ?” Christopher asks his father as the two make their way to the kitchen.  

“It was a fine, normal day of us saving the city” Eddie chuckled, smiling at his son who was sitting at the table now. “Hey bud?”

“Mhm hm ?”

“When did y/n get here?”

“I don’t know, she was here when me and Carla got home” he shrugs, turning his attention back to something Eddie had left out on the table.

Eddie is half way into the fridge and it was down to its bare bones. A carton of milk, two eggs left in a tray and a half used stick of butter - guess he had forgotten to go grocery shopping yesterday.

“How does pizza for dinner sound?” Eddie turns to Chris who’s nodding eagerly. Pizza was the way to that kid’s heart.

---

dinner was short, the boys talked about their day. Chris told his father all about his day at school and how they learned about the atmosphere and space in science class and Eddie told him about a resume they had today - the safe for work details of course, he always left out the gruesome parts.

“So Carla told me y/n helped with your homework ?”

“Yeah, I only had math work to do. It was easy”

Eddie hums, it was still relatively early and a Friday afternoon, he thought why not have a movie night.

“Here’s the plan for tonight, you tidy up your room real quick and then we can build a fort and have movie night. How does that sound ?”

“Like a plan!” he smiles at Eddie before getting up. Eddie sits at the table watching Chris make his way into the hallway and towards the bathroom.

The sound of a snore brought him back to reality, he remembered you were still on the couch asleep. He quietly got up and made his way over, crouching in front of the couch.

You looked at peace, which was strange to him because the two of you are always bickering or poking each other about something. The only times he had seen you smile was if someone made fun of him or if you were with Chris - he had never actually seen you relaxed.

“Take a picture and leave or I'm filing a restraining order” you mumble sleepily. Eddie laughed, you were always teasing him about his stare.

Eddie stands, lifting your legs and sitting before dropping them down onto his lap. “How did you get in my house? Did you let yourself in?”

“I used the key” rolling onto your jacket, you shift upwards slightly. The disapproval on Eddie’s face was very much visible.

“I gave you that key for emergencies!”

“It was an emergency!”

Eddie sighs, his hand rubbing the piece of bare skin showing from the rolled up pants. The room is quick, the sound of the rain pouring echoed through the house.

“What’s on your mind ? I can practically see the wrinkles forming on your face”

“Hey!” you nudged him with your foot while he laughed. “Nothing,” sitting up to face him properly. “I just had a shitty day and wanted to see my bes- my friend.”

A small smile appeared on his face. “Your what ?” “Shut up Eddie”

“No no, say it” he grabs your foot, his fingers reaching to the sole of your foot. Your eyes widen, shaking your head. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh but I do” he smirks before tickling the bottom of your foot. You try to pull your foot away but you’re laughing and wiggling around on the couch so much that you end up rolling off but your foot is still on Eddie’s lap.

There you were lying diagonally off the couch with your feet on his lap. He shifts to the floor, now sitting beside you. The two of you have your backs up against the couch.

“Seriously, talk to me. What’s up ?”

“Just wanted some company. Work was shitty and I- I don’t know. I didn’t know where to go. There’s nothing waiting for me at my place, the weather’s kinda depressing so I didn’t want to go drinking because it would just make me sad” you chuckle, turning your head to face him.

“I got in the car and just drove and I ended up here. This is home, you know? ” you admit. Humming, he smiles.

“I’m glad you felt like you could come here.”

“Well I know you couldn’t kick me out. You love me and my puppy face too much” you pout playfully making his laugh before nudging you with his shoulder.

Eddie’s arm is now over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “You’re welcomed here anytime.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Tilting your head from his shoulder, you're now face to face with him. There had always been unspoken feelings between the two of you, everyone could see that - even the two of you.

He leans in, a hand cupping your cheek like it was chiseled to fit the curve of your structure perfectly.

The palm of your hand wraps around his wrist, leaning closer to him.

This was the moment you were waiting for.

“DAD!” Chris shouts, causing Eddie to pull away. Not that either of you minded but there does that moment.

“Yeah ?” His hand was still cupping your cheek. “Can we watch a movie now?”

“Of course, pick one out.” He moves his hand to give the remote to Chris, you cheek cold from the loss of touch.

The 3 of you settle into the couch, Christopher between the two of you. The boy settled on Space Jam though he had seen it a million times.

Eddie’s arm is stretched over the back of the couch. It was bent at an awkward position, his fingers barely grazing your cheek, letting you know that he’s right there.

The two of you shared stolen glances all night, watching each other more than the movie. Eventually Chris fell asleep between the two of you.

You felt safe, peaceful, home.

This felt like home.

----- 

taglist: @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner @captainxholmes @advicefromnixxxx @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @dralexreid

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Lazy Morning Intimacy

So, who’s ready for an extra long serving of shameless fluff from the first draft of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings & Always? My philosophy in writing this is if I can add some more fluffy cuddly moments, I absolutely will, and the Step 3 moment Reflection offers one such opportunity right at the very start before, well, those of you who have played this moment know what happens later.

Spoilers for those who have not played the Step 3 DLC! If you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read any further! If you don’t mind spoilery stuff, well, don’t let me stop you, but I highly, highly encourage you to play through the game before reading any of this.

As always, thanks go to @gb-patch for their wonderful game and their lovely feedback for my work, as well as everyone who likes, reblogs, and comments on these clips I’m posting here. You are all awesome.  💖

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It wasn’t often that Jamie had the chance to enjoy breakfast at the Holden house. Ever since their parents decreed that they were ‘too old’ for sleepovers, she and Cove didn’t have many opportunities to enjoy that particular meal together, which made today a rare treat. It wasn’t especially fancy fare, but it was lovely to be able to spend time with her boyfriend almost as soon as she woke up. She was glad she impulsively asked if he wanted to have breakfast with her when they exchanged their usual good morning texts.

After a pleasant meal filled with light conversation and tasty food, Cove invited Jamie to retreat to his room to relax and let the lazy morning linger before any big activities began. That was, if they didn’t just decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. Neither of them had any plans in particular, with no prior commitments with friends, family, or work to distract them from just spending the day together. It wasn’t officially a date day, per say, or at least neither of them called it that yet. So far, they just decided to do whatever came to mind while enjoying each other’s company.

Of course, the first thing that came to Jamie’s mind was to cuddle with her boyfriend. When Cove sat down onto the bed, she didn’t hesitate to take a seat beside him, leaning into him. He hummed happily in approval and looped an arm around her to pull her in even closer.

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as a new thought came to mind, and Jamie leaned in even closer. Cove raised an eyebrow at expression, only to yelp when she unexpectedly pushed her weight into him and tipped him back onto the bed. She fell along with him, giggling as they tumbled onto the mattress

Cove let out a chuckle of his own once he recovered from his surprise. “When I said we could relax, I didn’t mean going back to bed,” he said with a wry smile. Even still, he allowed her to nudge him gently back to the headboard so that they could both lounge comfortably on the bed properly with their heads resting on the pillows side by side. 

Jamie flashed Cove a satisfied grin before she snuggled up against his side, nuzzling her cheek against his as she basked in his gentle warmth. “You also said to make myself comfortable,” she teased, her eyes sparkling playfully as she rested her arm across his chest. “I’m very comfortable like this.”

Cove felt his heartbeat quicken, and he smiled back fondly at Jamie, nuzzling her cheek in return. “Me too,” he said softly.

Though maybe he was a little too comfortable.

Cove couldn’t help but be aware of the fact that they were both lying in his bed together. A prickling of nerves rose up that he quickly did his best to tamp down to not ruin the intimate moment they were sharing. It was fine, no big deal, he told himself. They were both fully dressed, on top of the sheets, and it was broad daylight. They cuddled plenty of times like this before on sofas and the ground. Heck, this was nothing compared to when they shared a bed when they were younger.

The flickering of nervousness didn’t escape Jamie’s notice. She softened her expression and reached up to gently run her fingers through her shy boyfriend’s hair. She had intended to steal a kiss or two and see where that would take them, but she decided that could wait until later. Just enjoying this moment with Cove was enough for her.

The touch was soothing, and Cove slowly started to relax as he leaned into Jamie. The anxious air that had threatened to pull him out of the moment gradually dissipated as her comforting warmth slowly settled in. Soon, he felt at ease enough to slip his arm back around her, which she happily used as her new pillow. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing the content expression on his partner’s face as she smiled softly back at him.

A comfortable silence washed over the pair as they simply enjoyed the quiet moment of intimacy. At some point, Jamie went from stroking Cove’s hair to toying with it. His ponytail limited her in how much she could card her fingers through his hair, but there were plenty of long locks to ripple between her fingers.

It wasn’t the first time Jamie got the impulse to play with her boyfriend’s hair. Even before he was officially - or even unofficially - her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but want to run her fingers through those pretty pale green strands. When they were younger, Cove would jokingly try to avoid her hands, but always ‘failed’ to escape in the end, allowing her to have her way. Sometimes she teased him back by pretending to give up, and he would always pout adorably, which she would immediately chase away with a satisfying ruffle of his hair.

Occasionally, Jamie would go beyond playing to actual styling. She was no professional, but it was fun to wind her boyfriend’s hair into a braid or two sometimes. Cove never minded, even if the braids rarely lasted that long after she was finished making them. It also didn’t escape her notice that he would sometimes shiver or let out an adorable pleasured little mumble when she raked her fingers along his scalp. It was an enjoyable experience for both of them, and sometimes she suspected that was one of the reasons why he let his hair grow as long as he did.

Jamie had no such grand designs now. Today she simply basked in the freedom to enjoy the feeling of his soft hair sliding between her fingers as she listened to the happy noises her partner occasionally let slip.

Although much more at ease, Cove couldn’t help the small traces of nervous energy that left him with the need to do something with his hands. He ran his thumb across her shoulder with the hand that was limited by Jamie resting on the upper part of his arm. With his freer hand, he decided to return the favor she paid to him and ran his fingers through her long deep blue hair, starting with stroking back her bangs before sliding his hand down along the entire length of her hair until he reached the ends at her hips. The feeling was soft and silky, and she sighed softly at the attention.

On impulse, Cove poked one of the small buns on top of his girlfriend’s head. Space buns were her preferred hairstyle of choice nowadays, and there was something satisfying about poking them that he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the feel of them, or the way the bunched up hair bounced when poked that did it, but most likely it was because of the amused looks Jamie gave him whenever he did. She wore one such expression now, and he couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before giving her bun another playful poke.

Entertained, Jamie let Cove have her way with her buns, poking and prodding them as he pleased. The potential for innuendo wasn’t lost on her, but she let it go unsaid. As fun as it would be to make him flustered by suggesting that he might enjoy playing with a different set of buns she had even more, she didn’t want to interrupt the light, playful moment.

Jamie would just save that little bit of wordplay for later, preferably when the mood was good enough that Cove might take her up on the invitation.

Despite the steamy thoughts that skirted through her mind, Jamie did her best to focus on enjoying the lazy moment between them. It was lovely to just share such casual intimacy with Cove.

Jamie wasn’t alone in trying to ignore her more hormonal urges. As much as Cove enjoyed playing with her hair, focusing on touching her as he did made it impossible for him to stop thinking about the fact that they were both lying on his bed together. He was keenly aware of the gentle warmth of her body pressed against him, how soft and inviting her pink lips looked as she smiled at him.

Eventually, Cove realized he needed something else to occupy his hands if he didn’t want to risk disrupting the peaceful moment. Shifting about a bit, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Although Jamie raised an eyebrow at that and at being displaced from her cozy spot when he moved around, she held no objections as he turned his phone on and busied himself with it. Instead, she simply readjusted her position to get comfortable once he was settled again.

Sifting through missed texts and emails, Cove soon managed to distract himself from the urges that ruffled his nerves and relaxed back into the moment. He spotted a number of texts he missed from his dad, and for a moment he wondered if everything was okay until he realized Cliff just sent him a bunch of images last night.

A warm smile graced his face as Cove slowly scrolled his way through the photographs, nostalgia washing over him. Each photo brought him back to the moment it was taken, allowing him to lose himself in the priceless memories he shared with his friends, family, and especially the special person he held so comfortably close at that very moment.

Some photos brought back sweet memories, others a little more on the bitter side of sweet, and then there were the funnier ones. One such silly photo seized Cove’s attention, and he couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him.

The sound immediately snapped Jamie out of her relaxed stupor and brought her back to the present. She raised an eyebrow at Cove, but he failed to notice her questioning look, too preoccupied by whatever was on his phone’s screen.

“What’s so funny?” Jamie asked as she propped herself up on her arm to get a better look at his face and catch a glimpse of the phone’s screen.

Cove finally turned to look at Jamie, his eyes crinkled with mirth and a smirk playing on his lips. “Dad scanned some old photos,” he chuckled. “You know…”

Now that Jamie was no longer using his arm as a pillow, Cove was free to use it to draw a rectangle in the air. “Printed out ones,” he explained, “back from when I was little.” He waved his phone a bit with his other hand. “He texted it all to me last night, I guess. I’ve been checking them out.”

Jamie sat up completely, her dark blue eyes flying open wide. “You were looking at your kiddie photos and didn’t tell me?!” she gasped, almost scandalized at missing out on something so priceless.

Cove barely resisted the urge to chuckle, offering Jamie a bent smile as his eyes narrowed playfully. “I was gonna show you.” His gaze then slid away to his phone as his expression turned a little more hesitant. “I just wanted to look at it first to make sure there was nothing super embarrassing. You never know with my dad.”

His mouth pulled into a grimace as Cove could easily imagine all sorts of horrors his dad might have captured on film to unintentionally humiliate him until the end of time. “I mean… what if there’s a photo of me getting potty trained or something?”

Although Jamie empathized with his worries, she couldn’t help but giggle at the fraught expression Cove wore. “Yeah, that sounds like something your dad would do.”

Cove could only respond by clearing his throat nervously, his eyes skirting away from Jamie as he sat up as well. While he hadn’t come across any particularly humiliating photo of himself, he couldn’t quite shake the fear of what his dad’s well-meaning actions might have left for him to deal with this time.

Jamie offered her boyfriend a sympathetic smile before adding a slight bent to it. “Hey, how about this - if you let me look at your embarrassing baby photos, I’ll show you just as many of mine. My moms have plenty of them.”

The offer was tempting. Cove couldn’t help but wonder what sort of photos Jamie had in mind, but the price was just too steep. He merely chuckled awkwardly and shook his head as he pointedly kept his phone tilted away from her. She huffed and puffed out her cheeks in a mock pout at him for holding out on her, which elicited a genuine bout of laughter from him.

Once Cove got his mirth under control, he smiled at Jamie. “Anyway, before we forget, I was laughing ‘cause I came across a Halloween one from when I was eight. The year I was a zombie, remember?”

Jamie dropped her faux pout and nodded, her eyes lighting up eagerly. Cove shook his head at her excitement, a wry grin gracing his face as he finally offered the phone to her.

As Cove watched Jamie eagerly turn to his phone, he couldn’t help but shake his head again, this time at his kid self. “I never even liked zombies!” he said, a little baffled that he ever was so enthusiastic for such a costume. “All I wanted was to show off my new scar. And I needed to be something scary. I couldn’t be a normal person who had a scar, according to my eight-year-old mind.”

The photo displayed on the screen showed Cove from ten years in the past, and a pleasant wave of nostalgia washed over Jamie as she saw him the way he looked when they first met, minus the pink cast and plus a fair amount of makeup and fake blood. Little Cove posed for the camera with his fingers hooked like claws, his mouth open as though letting out what was probably supposed to be a fierce roar. She could easily remember the noises he made that night as he pretended to be a zombie on the hunt for brains. His hair looked even more wild and disheveled than it did after the most energetic day of play, going well with the tattered and ‘blood’ stained button up shirt he wore. His face was painted in gray down to his neck, marred with an array of fake scars that couldn’t compare to the real one on his arm.

Cove looked from Jamie to the phone and chuckled softly at the face his younger self pulled for the camera. “I was a little dork.”

Jamie eyed Cove at such self-depreciation before poking him on the nose. “You were a little cutie,” she insisted. “And now you’re a big cutie.”

Cove blinked at the playful action before blushing at the compliment. He had no words to reply to it except for a quiet, flustered chuckle as he rubbed his nose.

Jamie grinned at that reaction before turning back to the photo. As much as she enjoyed how adorable Cove looked while pretending to be a fierce monster, it was impossible to ignore the scar displayed so predominantly on his arm at that time. Her smile softened at the edges at the sight of such a large, jagged line of fresh skin that was such a deep and angry shade of red. The scar was a pale memory in the present, but back then it looked so painful, and at the time she found it hard not to worry about him and his comfort after his cast came off.

Still, Jamie refused to let that put a damper on the story and focused instead on just how much fun little Cove was having posing for the camera and remembering the way they played around with their costumes that night. She could vividly recall how she pretended to run away from him when he playfully growled that he wanted to eat her brains, and the memory made her smile grow stronger.

“Dad really wanted to be useful, as usual,” Cove said, bringing Jamie’s attention back to him in the present. Though he noticed the flicker of sadness that crossed her face and realized the reason for it, he was glad to see her perk up again just as quickly. “He came up with the idea of being an undead person. It was pretty good, huh?”

Jamie chuckled softly and nodded. “You had the best Halloween costume that year, hands down,” she said playfully. “I remember you getting lots of extra candy when adults realized the scar was real.” Her smile widened as she remembered just how jealous Lizzie had been at how much candy Cove got that year, especially since he only offered to share some of that extra candy with Jamie. “It must have been your greatest Halloween haul ever.”

Cove couldn’t help but chuckle as well as he thought back to that legendary candy haul as well. It took him a month to finish it all even with Jamie’s help.

Still, the topic of his scar brought his gaze back to the picture. Cove couldn’t help but compare the way it looked in the photo to its current appearance on his left arm. “I can’t believe how much larger my scar used to be,” he said quietly.

Jamie watched as Cove turned his focus to his arm with a soft smile on his face. He traced his fingers along the jagged line of pale flesh that remained with him even ten years on. It was an action that she had seen him do countless times, but it felt more significant in that moment.

A soft sigh escaped Cove, but his eyes and tone were playful. “Look at how tiny it is now.” He gave Jamie a look with big, pathetic eyes. “How am I gonna pretend to be tough without a big scar?”

It was a struggle for Jamie not to laugh at the expression Cove wore. “You better not do anything stupid to get a new scar,” she joked with a faux disapproving frown as she wagged a finger at him. “No matter how much you like them!”

Cove grinned back at Jamie. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Jamie said with a satisfied nod. “You’ve already got the coolest scar, no matter how small it gets.”

Cove felt his cheeks grow warm and his smile turned bashful. “Thanks.” He ducked his head away from Jamie, pleased with their joking exchange. Once again, his eyes drifted down to his scar as he continued to trace it.

“I really do like having this,” he admitted in a soft, shy voice. “Even if it is kind of little these days.”

Jamie’s expression softened as well, feeling as though Cove was sharing a big secret with her. She couldn’t help but feel happy to hear that he liked his scar despite whatever pain it must have caused him to get it. It was always wonderful whenever he opened up to her like this.

Cove glanced up at Jamie, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I like yours, too.”

The unexpected compliment caught Jamie off guard, and heat rose in her cheeks, turning them pink. She couldn’t help but smile as she felt her chest flutter with butterflies. He never failed to think of her as well, especially since he knew that she was self-conscious of her own scars.

Unthinkingly, Jamie brought her hand up to her upper arm and traced some of the countless jagged little white lines that marred her pale skin. There were matching scars in the same place on her other arm, as well as her thighs and her chest. Unlike Cove, these scars were not the result of an accident, but her skin not being able to keep up with her sudden growth during puberty.

Back during her early teenage years when the stretch marks were fresh and an angry purplish-red, Jamie always kept them hidden. Puberty had been rough on her, dealing a blow to her self-esteem as well as her body, and being covered in so many scars left her feeling ugly even though she never once thought of Cove’s scar like that.

It took time for Jamie to accept her scars, and she knew that Cove was a big part of why. Seeing the way he took such quiet pride in his scar always made her question how she thought of hers. More than that, he always made her feel beautiful, and he was always the first to remind her  whenever she needed it. That was why she was no longer afraid to wear clothes that exposed her scars like she did now.

Jamie scooted in closer to Cove as she smiled adoringly at him, placing her hand on top of his. “Thank you, Cove.”

Cove turned back to face Jamie fully. He finally let go of his scar so that he could take her hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt at peace with his scar and was happy to see the same reflected on her face as well. Their scars held such meaning to them despite coming from unhappy sources.

Jamie squeezed his hand back as she drifted even closer. “Could I touch your scar?”

Cove blinked, taken aback by the request. Usually, Jamie wasn’t shy about touching him without asking first, particularly someplace as innocent as his arm. Still, he quickly realized why she might hesitate to do that now and smiled gently at her as he nodded easily. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Jamie gave Cove’s hand one more squeeze before letting go of it. Lightly, she pressed her fingertips against the edges of his scar. With great care, she slowly ran her thumb along the entire length of it, following the jagged angles the old wound took. The pale flesh was rough when compared to the rest of his skin, which was soft, but with goosebumps rising quickly along his arm as she stroked his scar.

The touch, so delicate and gentle, left Cove feeling a bit lightheaded. Jamie’s touch always felt wonderful and often left him feeling butterflies, but somehow the feel of her paying such careful attention to his scar was particularly powerful. A choked breath escaped him and a wobbly smile played across his face as he lost himself in the feeling.

The dizzied smile Cove wore along with the light pink of his cheeks drew Jamie in with the urge to do more. She locked eyes with him, staring deep into his aquamarine eyes as she took a hold of his arm and raised it up towards her.

A quiet gasp escaped Cove when she realized what Jamie had in mind. He couldn’t look away from her dark blue eyes as she stared so intently into him even as she placed a soft kiss on the old wound that marked him. The feeling of her lips, warm and soft, pressed so tenderly against that particular place sent shivers up his spine, and he let out a tiny squeak.

Jamie smiled against Cove’s skin as she appreciated his adorable reaction, as well as the way he looked at her with overwhelming adoration. She kissed him again and again, tracing the entire length of his scar with her lips like she did with her fingers before.

It was impossible for Cove to stay still when Jamie was showing him such affection. He reached up with his free hand to touch her arm. With his thumb, he brushed aside the edge of her open sleeve, giving him better access to the countless little white lines marking her pale skin. The texture was interesting, feeling so similar yet so different from his own scar. Because of their size and number, he found his fingers constantly alternating between soft skin and rougher tissue. It was difficult to trace any one scar from start to finish like she did for him, so instead he sought out to touch every single one.

The touch was electric, and Jamie could feel her heartbeat speed up as Cove caressed her so lovingly. “Cove…”

Cove shivered again as Jamie murmured his name against his skin, setting off sparks that made his body burn pleasantly. It urged him to lean forward, his eyes gleaming with the fire she set ablaze inside him.

Jamie raised her head and instinctively matched his movement, drawing nearer to Cove as her eyes drifted closed. She felt his lips gently meet hers, and she melted into the tender kiss. She held a little more firmly onto his arm as she fell deeper into him, feeling like she might drown in the depths of her feelings for him.

Cove all too quickly lost himself in the moment and in Jamie. It felt so wonderful, so right to be her like this, to touch and kiss her. He loved her so much that it was almost overwhelming, but knowing that she loved him as well kept him grounded.

Eventually they finally drifted apart, breathless and dazed from the kiss, their faces flushed with heat. When Jamie opened her eyes, she saw Cove gazing back at her with his mesmerizing ocean blue eyes. The look he gave her was spellbinding, filled with so much love and adoration that made her heart hammer hard against her ribcage. It told her without words that the feelings he had for her were just as immense as hers were for him.

Cove leaned in again, this time resting his forehead gently against Jamie’s. With heavy lidded eyes, he simply enjoyed gazing deeply into her blue eyes that always reminded him of the night sky. No matter how many times he saw them, they always captivated him. He could lose himself in those beautiful eyes of hers.

The feeling of his warm breath tickling her skin made Jamie shiver a little, especially the way it brushed against her lips like the ghost of a kiss. With their heads touching, his hand on her arm and hers on his, she felt entirely entwined with Cove. It felt so right.

Time ceased to have any meaning in that moment as they gazed deeply into their partner’s eyes and drank in the closeness and warmth they shared. Seconds or minutes might have passed, but neither of them cared as they lost themselves in each other.

[likeastarstar]

12:10 AM- Hoseok

Finally- your shift was over.

"I'll see you later," you called to a coworker, waving a lazy hand in the air before rushing out into the cold.

You checked your phone quickly for the time- your roommate would've left for their parents' house already. They had mentioned staying the night there earlier, meaning the apartment was probably empty. Not that it mattered. You felt a very specific key burning in your pocket, practically begging to be used so you wouldn't be there anyway. Besides, it had been a week since you had last seen Hoseok.

Between your work and his, the two of you just seemed to keep missing each other. Neither one of you were the texting type, but you did speak on the phone almost everyday when you got the chance. Still, it wasn't enough. You missed him in a way you didn't really expect, maybe the pandemic has made you a little co-dependent. You just wanted to be around him, even if it was just to sleep.

You made your way to his apartment, letting yourself in with the key. He wasn't home, unsurprisingly. He mentioned staying at the studio late tonight to finish a track. The chill of the air had soaked into your bones, leaving you shivering even in his heated apartment. You kicked your shoes off at the door, placing your keys in the dish on the kitchen countertop like you had seen him do a million times before looking around.

Hoseok usually kept his apartment clean but the state it was in currently was...wrecked. There were no dishes in the sink but that was about the only surface not covered in papers or scraps of plastic or empty coffee cups, which probably meant he just wasn't cooking at all. There was a pile of laundry in the middle of his hallway for some reason, so large that you had to hop over it just to get to his bedroom. You debated cleaning for him but didn't bother, knowing he'd just get annoyed you didn't do it the way he wanted to.

Hoseok must've had a hard week too.

You showered quickly, washing your hair with his fancy products just so that you could smell like him. Bergamot and orange- just the quarter sized puddle in your hand was enough to calm you down a little. It wasn't until you had stepped out of the shower when you realized you hadn't thought about clothes to wear in your spontaneous plan to come here. Browsing his closet, your hand gravitated towards a soft shirt with some anime graphic printed on the front. You snorted at the geekiness of it all, pulling it over your head instantly and grabbing a pair off his boxer briefs for yourself.

You crawled into bed, jumping when a crack of thunder went off in the distance. When did it start raining? With a quick check of your phone, you wondered if Hoseok had finished yet. Hopefully he had an umbrella. His bed felt softer than yours and smelt like him, subconsciously drifting over to his side of the bed to envelop yourself in the scent more. You hadn't even realized you fell asleep until a door closed, causing you to shift slightly and see Hoseok walking into the room, water dripping off the ends of his hair. He looked surprised and slightly out of breath, staring at you wordlessly.

"Hey," You said sleepily, propping yourself up on your elbows. "I used the key you gave me."

He blinked blankly, his shirt clinging to his chest in a way you appreciated even in your half asleep state. His mouth opened and shut like a fish, making you smile a little bit. "Y-yeah, that's fine." He said, nodding his head. "I'm sorry it's a mess, I..."

Hoseok trailed off, not bothering to finish his sentence before bottom lip quivered and he pressed his mouth into a pout. You heard myself make a weird noise and scramble to the edge of the bed, realizing he was about to cry.

"What's wrong?" You mumbled, reaching out for his hand. Hoseok let you take it and sunk to his knees on the ground, laying his head in your lap. You ran through his damp hair with your fingers, rubbing his temples lightly.

"I had a really hard week." He mumbled, sighing heavily. "Everything is so chaotic and I'm so stressed out, my place is a mess, I haven't been sleeping. We barely even talked all week and this is the first time I've seen you in so long."

"I missed you too," You whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "It's okay, you know everyone will love anything you put out as long as you put meaning behind it. I'm here now, why don't you get out of your wet clothes so you don't get sick and we can talk more after?"

Hoseok breathed in deeply and stood up, nodding sharply, "Right, okay- you're right."

He started towards the bathroom before turning back and kissing you, craning your neck up towards him with a hand at the base of your skull. "I'm glad you used the key."

He came back quickly, wearing a pair of loose boxers and nothing else. "This is like a dream," He laughed, sliding into bed behind you. You smiled as he pulled you against his front with a hand around your waist, hugging you from behind. "My dream girl wearing my favorite shirt in bed. God, it's like you knew how shit my day was."

"Just missed you, that's all," You shrugged, feeling his hand drift from your stomach to where your thighs met, stopping when he felt the extra layer of fabric over your center. He grunted and you felt his hand run over your thighs, a finger dragging under the seam of his underwear on your body.

"Are these my boxer briefs? Also- did you use my shampoo?" He asked, sitting up slightly.

You blushed and nodded, looking over your shoulder back at him. "Yes?"

He laughed, kissing your cheek sweetly, "That's cute."

(A/N: this is a little long and i think i used the word you way too much. also i didn't proof read. my bad. feedback is always appreciated!)

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Sundress Season

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.5k

Tags: Fluff, Domestic af, Hurt/Comfort, Nothing major the Reader got some scratches gardening and Frankie is Concerned, p in v sex, wrap it before you tap it, Size Kink, Sort Of, Exhibitionism, If You Squint, A little, Dirty Talk, mostly just tooth-rotting fluff (plus a little loving smut),Triple Frontier, Frankie “Catfish” Morales, Domestic, Gardening, Outdoor Sex, No Beta

Summary: You and Frankie have just moved into a farmhouse fixer upper and are enjoying the first warm day of spring. A lazy afternoon nap turns into something... more.

Read on Ao3

Leaning the shovel against the white picket fence, you stand back to take an appraising look at your handiwork, squinting against the midday sun. You’ve taken advantage of one of the first truly warm days of spring to plant some blackberry bushes along the boundary of your new home. Sweat slides down your spine and you can already feel a dull ache spreading through your calves and along your forearms, but you toss aside your leather work gloves with a grin, proud of your morning’s work. You brush your hair away from your face with the back of an arm, leaving a trace of dirt along your forehead. “Frankie, come look.”

“One sec.” His answer is muffled, even considering it’s coming from inside the old farmhouse the two of you have just moved into, and you realize he must still be working on the kitchen sink.

You enter the house, surprisingly cool and dim after the sunny warmth outside, and walk to the kitchen. Frankie’s legs jut out from beneath the sink, and all you can see of him are his work boots, khaki pants, and a glimpse of his soft stomach where the rusty red t-shirt he’s wearing has ridden up. You lean against a nearby counter, the smooth stone lip pressing into your lower back, and smile down fondly at him. “How’s the sink coming?”

The house is a dream come true for both of you, but it’s also needed a ton of work both inside and out. You’ve already sanded floors, patched up creaking stairs, painted most of the rooms, and ripped out overgrown hedges that had threatened to take over the yard. Once you’d cleared them out, the yard and gardens became an invitingly open canvas, just waiting for you to make your own.

The two of you had spent several late winter evenings curled up in front of the stone hearth, seed catalogs and plant nursery order slips laid out in front of you, arguing pleasantly over how to cram in every plant both of you want. You’re determined to line the yard with fruit trees and shrubs, while Frankie is surprisingly invested in the beds where he plans to cultivate tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and a variety of herbs. At least you both agreed to leave the large, well-established lilac trees bookending the house, and you’re currently waiting to see who will win the bet about what color the sprawling, thorn-covered rose bushes will be. You’re hoping for a buttery yellow to complement the lilacs, while Frankie is holding out hope that they’ll be the same pale pink as the roses he’d brought you for one of your first dates.

This morning, just when the two of you had made plans to tackle some of the new plantings, the kitchen drain had backed up. You’d decided that job would be better handled by Frankie and headed out to start the landscaping yourself. “Almost there, I just need to…” Frankie’s deep in concentration, and you swear you can almost see him sticking the tip of his tongue out as he focuses. There’s a final sound of metal scraping against metal, followed by a victorious “ha! Try it now.”

“You sure? I don’t want to soak you.”

A muted huff echoes from the space below the sink. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“Ok,” you shrug. “Just don’t blame me if you get a faceful of water.” You turn the tap on slowly and watch as the water spirals easily down the drain. “Hey, you did it!”

Frankie braces a hand along the top of the cabinet and pulls himself to his feet. “Don’t sound so surprised,” he teases. “Told you I could do it.”

“My hero,” you say lightly, crossing the floor to kiss his smiling cheek. His scruff scrapes lightly against your face, and you find yourself lingering, especially when he captures your lips for a proper kiss. “Now I can wash some of this dirt off- I feel like I brought half the yard in.” After the hours you spent planting various shrubs and a few small fruit trees, your arms are streaked with dry soil.

“Here, let me help you.”

Frankie steps behind you, his broad form leaning against yours as you stand at the newly repaired sink. His thighs press lightly against your own as his arms encircle your waist. He leans his chin on your shoulder and his messy curls brush against your ear while he begins to run soap over your forearms. You laugh, his efforts mostly just splashing dirty water around, but the cool water is a welcome relief. “Frankie! I can do it myself.”

You can feel him smiling against your neck. “I know, I just- oh.” His voice turns suddenly soft, with a note of worry.

“What is it?”

“Baby, you hurt yourself.” He steps alongside you, examining the delicate skin of your inner arm with a concerned frown. “What happened?”

“What?” You look down and see a few thin, angry red lines streaking the length of your forearms. “Oh, it’s nothing. The blackberry branches were thorny, that’s all.” You’d been wearing one of Frankie’s flannels for a little extra protection, but it had grown too hot and you’d stripped down to just your t-shirt. “It’s fine, they’ll heal fast.”

Despite your reassurance, Frankie ducks into the bathroom while you pat your arms dry with a clean dish towel and comes back holding some ointment. “They’ll heal better with this.” He flips open the cap and looks up, seeking permission.

You nod, unwilling to deny him anything, especially with that melting brown gaze trained on you. It’s not necessary, but you have to admit- you love that he takes such good care of you. Frankie takes his time, gently stroking a dab of ointment over each small scratch. His light touch quickly takes the sting out of your small hurts, and when he’s finished you catch his hands, bring them up to your lips for a grateful kiss. You adore his hands- so much bigger than your own, strong and capable but still so deft. He ducks his head and smiles and your heart clenches with love for this quiet, loving man.

------- After changing out of your dirt-streaked jeans and into a clean sundress (which, of course, Frankie also offered to help with), you head back to the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge. The cold glass bottle begins beading almost at once, and you hold it against your slightly sunburnt neck. “I was going to go read in the yard for a bit, care to join me?”

“I’ve got a couple more things to finish up here, you go ahead.” Frankie drops a kiss to your temple as you pass, on your way to get a book and an old quilt to spread out on.

“Ok, see you in a bit.” The old screen door swings shut behind you, bouncing slightly before it catches the latch. A project for another day, you think. The two of you have already done plenty, and for now you just want to enjoy the rest of the sunny afternoon.

You spread your quilt out under a flowering magnolia tree which offers just the right amount of shade and lay down on your back. A light breeze stirs the green grass around you and sets the flowering tree branches swaying, a few pale pink petals raining down. Sunlight dapples your face as you relax, enjoying the surroundings of the garden you and Frankie are making together. The book is good, but you find yourself distracted, listening to nearby birdsong and watching billowing clouds scud across the bright blue sky. With the sun warm on your face, it’s not long before your eyelids are drooping.

-------

When you wake up, shadows are lengthening across the yard and Frankie is sprawled out next to you, having come out and dozed off at some point after you did. You lean into his shoulder, still warm from the heat of the sun, and smile against him. There’s a patch of skin just below his hairline and above his collar, and you lean in to kiss him just there. He tastes faintly of clean sweat and you press your tongue against him, seeking the slight taste of salt.

Frankie stirs and sleepily cracks one eye open. “Can I help you?” Try as he might to sound long-suffering, you suspect he enjoys your touch.

“Nope, I’m good.” You toss your book aside and drape yourself over his back, enjoying the slight movement below you as he shifts to accommodate you. It’s getting a little cooler now as the sun slips towards the horizon, but Frankie’s warm, solid presence grounds you. He tenses a little when you lean your head on his shoulder and you pull back at once. “Is your shoulder still bugging you?” He’d pulled it while you were moving and as hard as you try, you don’t always manage to wrest the heavier chores away from him, so it’s been a slow recovery process.

His answer rumbles quietly from below you. “A little. Working on the sink probably didn’t do it any favors.” You lean up at once, straddling his waist so you can massage his neck and shoulders. “Poor thing, you are tight here.”

He hums in agreement, though you can feel the tension begin to leak out of him as you knead his tense muscles. You work a stubborn knot, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder, and as he sighs you can feel him relax further.

You lean down once more, careful to put your weight on your hands, braced against the ground,  and drag your mouth lazily over his neck. Your seeking licks turning to more intent kisses and when your teeth close over his pulse point, Frankie lets out a low groan and bucks his hips. You feel the movement all through him, especially where you’re seated against his ass.

“You want me to stop?” You ask teasingly, getting the expected shake of his head in response. You grind slightly against him before returning to nose at his neck. By the time you trace the shell of his ear with your tongue and nip gently at the cartilage, Frankie has had enough.

He rolls the two of you over with a smooth motion that ends with you flat on your back, and him smiling above you. “Oh, are we done fooling around?” You look up playfully. “I can show you the blackberry bushes before-”

He stops your mouth with a kiss, nipping at your lower lip before licking his way into your mouth. Delight shivers through you and you deepen the kiss, your tongues tangling languidly. You run your hand through his tangled curls, scraping your nails against his scalp. This pulls a soft noise from low in Frankie’s throat as he leans into your touch. His nose brushes yours and he nudges your cheek, trails kisses down your jaw.

Heat is pooling low in your belly and you spread your legs to invite him closer. Frankie takes the hint, canting his hips to drag the growing bulge in his pants against your core while you push back into him. “We should head inside,” you gasp as he moves lower, sucking at the delicate skin of your neck.

“We can if you want, but who’s gonna see?” His large hands cup your breasts and he dips his head to brush kisses over their swells. You arch your back, desperate for his touch even as you look around cautiously. He has a point; there’s no neighbor on this side of the house, just a patch of woods, and you’re well back from the road.

“Good point.” You reach down to tug at the hem of his shirt. Grinning, he sits up for a moment to help you. As soon as he’s shirtless he gets straight back to the task at hand. Frankie’s fingers make quick work of the buttons running the length of your sundress and he pulls the fabric aside, exposing the creamy lace of your bra. Your stomach flips at the sweet, eager look on his face. You’ve been together so many times, but he always makes you feel special, cherished. Despite being outside, potentially exposed, you feel completely at ease in his arms.  

With a quick glance up to check that you’re ok with it, Frankie unclasps your bra and helps you shrug out of it. The air is slightly cooler now, but his warm, broad palms encompass your breasts before the chill can even register. You sigh as his thumb brushes your nipple, and downright shudder when he wraps his plush lips around the stiffening peak. Your legs are writhing almost of their own accord now as you grow desperate for more. “Frankie,” you groan, tugging at his hair.

You feel his lips curve into a smile and his tongue darts out to flick against you. It glides along your swollen bud and your pussy aches for more so you hitch your leg over his hip. Frankie grabs your thigh to hold you close and rolls his hips sinfully against you, drawing a desperate noise from deep in your throat. “You like that, baby?”

You nod frantically. “You know I do. You know it drives me crazy when you put your mouth on me.”

Frankie chuckles and sucks your nipple into his mouth, pulling much of your breast along with it. The tugging sensation sends a bolt of desire straight to your cunt and you whine. You seize his jaw and glare, your eyes blown with lust. “If you don’t touch me soon Francisco I swear I will go inside without you and finish the job myself.”

You’re all talk and Frankie knows it. “I am touching you, sweetheart,” he says innocently.

You give an irritated huff and seize his hand, directing him where you want it. His composure slips when his fingers brush the crotch of your panties, already soaked with your need. His gaze flicks to yours, a lovestruck look in his eyes as he asks softly, “is this all for me?”

Biting your lip you nod. “Yes. I need you Frankie, please .”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby.” Frankie hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and drags them over your legs. You kick them off, nearly sobbing in relief as he drags a single finger through your glistening folds.

Frankie closes his eyes reverently. “Shit honey, you weren’t kidding.” His finger comes away coated in your juices and he sucks it slowly before replacing the digit. He adds another finger, the pads slipping just inside your entrance to collect more of your slick before circling your clit. You tip your head back, grasping his shoulders as he gently fingers your slit. Just when you can’t take it, when you’re ready to beg for more, he pushes those fingers into you, stretching you out perfectly. Mewling, you buck your hips, chasing the feeling of him fucking you open.

“Mm, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“Never. Think you can take another?”

“Yeah.” Your answer comes as a breathless whine.

“Good girl.” Frankie adds a third finger and you swear it makes you see stars. He curls his fingers to stroke that spot deep inside and you find yourself skating the edge of your release. You’re so close, could so easily tip right over that edge, but it’s not until you hear Frankie murmur “come for me, beautiful” that you actually do. All that gorgeous tension he’s been winding up unspools in a rush of pleasure, your legs shaking and your hips bucking as he works you through it.

You’ve scarcely begun to come down before Frankie’s blazing a trail of kisses down your belly, his hands gently parting your thighs wider to settle between them, keen concentration suffusing his handsome face.

“Wait,” you breathe, catching his jaw with a deft hand.

Frankie draws back at once, concern creasing a furrow between his brows as he gazes up from between your legs. “Everything ok?”

You sit up, already nodding to reassure him as you draw him forward and kiss him deeply. “Everything’s perfect. I just want to come on your cock this time.”

Frankie looks down at you in amazement before pulling you into a crushing embrace. He tilts your chin up to give you a searing kiss, his arm wrapped around your waist. He leans his forehead against yours, his breath tickling your lips as he rasps “You’re perfect, you know that, right?”

You giggle, moved by the awestruck look on his face, and drop your hands to unbuckle his pants. He’s already barefoot, making it easier to push his pants down, followed by his boxers. You glance around again, reassuring yourself that the coast is clear. Clocking what you’re doing, Frankie chuckles. “Don’t worry, baby, we’re good.”

Smiling a little sheepishly, you nod. “I know. Just protecting your honor.”

Frankie begins to laugh softly but the sound is cut off by a hiss as you lick your palm and wrap it around his shaft. “F-fuck.” His eyes roll back in his head as you tighten your grip, working his cock. You brush your thumb over his weeping slit, collecting the pearly bead of precum glistening at the tip. “Now who’s being a t-tease?”

You look up at him innocently through your lashes. “I don’t know what you mean, Frankie.”

“Sure you don’t,” he huffs, his breathing already picking up. “C’mere, baby.” He pulls at your waist, encouraging you up into his lap.

You’re happy to oblige. With a few quick movements, you’re settled above him, his cock lined up with your entrance. Throwing your arms around his neck, you lower yourself slowly, taking him inch by inch. Frankie buries his face in the crook of your neck and meets you halfway, thrusting up to seat himself fully inside you. He always seems even bigger when you’re on top, and he gives you a moment to adjust to being so well-filled.

“You good?”

“You have no idea.”

He smiles at that, clearly pleased. “Then tell me,” he urges, kissing you just below your ear. “Tell me how much you like me stretching you out on this big dick.”

Your eyes flutter closed at this. He knows what dirty talk does to you, knows exactly when it will be the most devastating. “It feels so fucking good, baby,” you assure him. “You’re so thick and you hit so deep. I can’t get enough, want you even deeper. Please, Frankie.”

He sucks hard at your pulse point, his tongue laving your neck as he begins to thrust up into you. “Anything, baby. I will give you anything you ask for. You know that, right?”

Gasping, you nod quickly. “I know, love. I know.”

His fingers tangle in your hair, his strong arms bracing you as he fucks up into you. You match each thrust, grinding yourself on the base of his cock. The two of you find your rhythm and you lean back, allowing him to hit at an even deeper angle. Frankie leans forward, able to reach your breasts now. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, all wet heat and slick tongue moving against you. You whimper and arch your back, trusting him to support you.

He does.

Frankie’s eyes are screwed shut as he pounds into you, determined to take care of you before finding his own release. Your whimpering cries plateau and he can tell you’re not quite there yet. He rests his forehead against yours without missing a beat, opening his eyes to gaze into yours. “What do you need, baby?” He asks it softly, reverently, his large hands cradling your face as if you’re something holy. With him looking at you like this, you almost feel that way.

“Talk to me, Frankie,” you gasp. “Want to hear how much you like this.”

Your want pulls an answering moan from him. “God, you know I fucking love this. You’re so tight, and you take me so well, baby. I could pound this pretty pussy all day.” He snaps his hips, driving himself deeper inside you as if to prove his point.

Your breathing comes faster, your cunt clenching around him as his words drive you closer to your edge. “Fuck, yes, just like that. I’m so close, baby,” you whine.

Frankie cants his hips, hitting that devastating spot deep inside you. His voice is even huskier as he urges you onward. “You have no idea what hearing that does to me, sweet thing,” he pants, sweat dampening his hairline. He runs the back of his hand distractedly over his forehead. He’s not about to let go before you do and he leans in close, his warm breath ghosting against your ear. “ Come for me. I know you want to. I can feel you clenching around me so be my good girl and come for me, sweetheart . ”

And just like that, a wave of sweet pleasure rolls through you. You clutch his shoulders as the two of you ride it together, Frankie moaning against your lips as he finds his own release.

Your head drops to his shoulder, your limbs quivering as little aftershocks zip through them. Frankie holds your limp form easily, dropping lazy kisses over your face and hair while you drift back to the present. Finally, you draw back, a dazed smile tugging at your lips. You blow out a breath along with a tired, please laugh. “That was-”

Frankie chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, pleased to have pleased you. “I know, baby.” His kisses are easy, unhurried, and still make you feel nearly drunk with happiness as the two of you linger lazily in your afterglow.

By now, the sun is truly setting, the horizon taking on a purple hue as the first evening stars begin to appear. Even in Frankie’s arms, you start to shiver as the breeze whispers over your rapidly cooling skin. In a deft move, he tugs at the edge of the old quilt, rolling the two of you into it, creating a cocoon of private warmth. As the sky darkens and more stars appear, the two of you stay wrapped up in each other, making plans for your future in the peaceful space you’re creating together.

[forever-rogue]

Honeyed Whiskey

A/N: This was not called for at all, but I was so inspired by THIS dress from yesterday. It’s just a little soft, gentle fluff. Enjoy! xx

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: references to sex, but nothing graphic

Pedro Character Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time he's lulled from sleep, far later than he normally would have preferred, the first thing he notices is the golden sunlight streaming in through sheer curtains and open windows. Instantaneously, a smile is tugging on his features and he shifts onto his back, stretching limbs made stiff by sleep. He's content and comfortable, already enjoying his days off, knowing they'd be spent with you. 

As soon as the thought of you crosses his mind, honeyed brown eyes slowly open again and he's blinking away the bleariness while reaching over to your side of the bed. But you're gone already, he notes with a light huff, finding nothing but cool emptiness where you normally laid.

Before he can get too lost in his own thoughts, he hears you. Its faint - soft and barely audible over the steady stream of the shower, but it's there. Crystal clear and beautiful, at least to his ears, he hears you singing softly under your breath along to whatever you had playing on the speakers. Rubbing away the remaining sleep from his eyes, he pulls back the soft, warm blankets and slides out from underneath. 

He's still naked from the evening before, but he doesn't even bother to dress or reach for even a stitch of clothing. He already knows you'll just strip off in seconds anyway. A beaming grin crosses his features at that; you certainly knew what you wanted and when you wanted it.

Almost as if you could sense him, you stopped singing for a moment and he hears the tell-tale rustle of the shower curtain, "Jack? Honey, is that you?"

"Hi Sugar," he poked his head and found you staring back with excited eyes and a head full of shampoo lather, "you're up early...need a hand?"

"Its the Farmers Market today," you reminded him with a crook of your finger as he stepped into the warm bathroom, "I don't want to miss it, besides you're taking me to brunch and everything!"

"And just who decided this?" his tone was teasing as he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed. You grinned up at him, pressing a kiss to his plush lips and batting your lashes innocently. He huffed in jest before reaching up and tenderly cupping your face, "I suppose I did, huh?"

"I'm sure that's what you were saying last night," you couldn't help but beam at him, "when I was on top - somewhere in between telling me how good I was and how much you love me."

"Well now, I definitely can't say no to you, Sugar," his hands slowly went from the side of your face and into your scalp as delicately massaged it to help wash the shampoo out.

"Jack, you don't have to wash my hair," you insisted but you definitely wouldn't have minded if he did. Showering with Jack was always an experience; something so intimate and sacred, especially when you took the time to wash and explore each other's bodies. You took the opportunity to shower together whenever you could, especially on lazy weekend days.

"I know I don't have to, baby," he insisted softly as he started to tender wash the lather, "but I want to. Let me take care of you, Sugar. You always take such good care of me, its my turn to love you."

"Well, who am I to turn down an offer like that?" a contented sigh left your lips as you keened into his gentle touch, "I am no fool. I love you, Jack."

"And I love you, honey."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You spent a long time in the shower, and by the time the two of you got you were both pruned. Jack's towel was slung low on his hips as he went to his side of the closet to grab some clothes for the day.

A sly little smile found its way onto your face as you dashed down the stairs and to the laundry room. You'd gone shopping yesterday and found something you'd planned on wearing today. As soon as you had seen it, you knew you had to have it, and you were positive that Jack would love it too.

"What happened?" Jack called down the stairs as you quickly slipped on your undergarments and the item of clothing.

"Nothing!" you promised as you bounded back up stairs to surprise him. Jack was standing in front of the full length mirror, buttoning up his shirt. The simple sight was still enough to take your breath away as you watched him for a few moments. His dark mop of hair was still damp and unruly, and you couldn't wait to run your hands through it.

You leaned against the door frame and cleared your throat in order to garner his attention. Jack slowly turned around, and when he was fully facing you, his jaw almost dropped. He slowly walked over to you, that look of adoration and devotion in his eyes that you were so fond of.

"You look beautiful, Sugar," he drawled as you slowly twirled to give him a look good at the beautiful yellow sundress you were wearing. It was breathtaking, and you had known from the moment you spied it that it was the one. Stopping just at your knees it was a beautiful, golden yellow with flowers all over it, with simple thin straps. The bodice hugged you just right and the little flare was perfect. You had a feeling Jack would like it too, "what a gorgeous dress on the most gorgeous woman in the world."

"Now you're just flattering me," you laughed lightly and put a hand on his broad, pushing him back ever so lightly, "do you like though? Really? I-I saw it and fell in love and couldn't help myself."

"Its not flattery if it's true," he insisted as he grabbed your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "I love it - not nearly as much as you, of course, but it's beautiful. And you make it even more so."

"You really do know just what to say, don't you, my love?" you couldn't help but steal a quick kiss as you flounced past him to finish getting ready, "still up for brunch?"

"And then the farmer's market," he reminded you with a soft smile, "I couldn't think of a better way to spend my day."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Brunch was a slow, fun affair as the two of you ate and drank your way through probably too much food. You'd insisted that Jack could pick the place since you were technically forcing him to brunch. He'd agreed, but that quickly turned into him driving to your favorite spot regardless. A silly old fool you had lovingly deemed him.

By the time you'd reached the farmer's market, it was warm and everything was bathed in brilliant sunlight. Jack had quickly reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, as you walked around and looked at all the various little stalls. It was busy and bustling, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood today; funny what the first nice day in the spring could do.

Jack was the type of man that loved to show you off, but there was also a part of him that was fiercely protective, never possessive, over you. It comes from years as an agent; a tried and practiced thing. 

Whenever someone would stop the two of you, he'd always make sure you were front and center, getting all the attention you deserved. Today, in your new yellow sundress, that was no exception. There was something about today, how radiant and happy you looked, how kind and gentle you were, that set something off in him. Suddenly, as he watched you pick out some fresh oranges and apples from one of the stalls, he knew he had the answer to the question that had been on his mind. 

“Honey?” you turned back to him, finding him watching you with a dopey little grin on his face. You held out your hand to him, and Jack wasted no time in coming over and taking, effortlessly entwining your fingers, “what’s wrong, Jack?”

“Nothing’s wrong at all, Sugar,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before taking the large tote filled with fresh fruits from you, ever the gentleman. You used to try and fight him on little things like that, insisting that you were more than capable of doing things on your own, but it was always useless. Eventually you learned not to argue with your cowboy. 

“You’re just awfully quiet today is all,” you squeezed his hand in a sign of reassurance to let him know that everything was okay, “you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course,” he stopped suddenly so he was facing you, a half smile on his handsome features. After studying your features in his aviators for a moment, you gently pushed them to the top of his head before leaving in to give him a gentle, saccharine kiss. When you pulled back, you found a light tinge of pink creeping into his cheeks, “whatever was that for?”

‘Just because,” you shrugged lightly before taking his hand again and tugging on it for him to follow, “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too,” he shook his head at your playfulness but both knew the words were true. You’d both been jaded in different ways throughout your lives, but this was the one thing you were sure about. You really did love him more than anything - and he you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You clutched onto your drink, or rather what was left of the smooth, honeyed whiskey, before turning to Jack and setting the glass down. You found Jack staring into the roaring fire across from you, his expression suggesting that a lot was going through his mind. 

You were across the small fire pit from him, the one he had lovingly built in the background for cool nights just like this and let out a small sigh. His drink wasn’t even touched and he’d hardly said more than a word or two the whole evening, leaving you to do most of the talking yourself.

“Alright, Jack, this is enough,” you stood up and flounced over to him, and sat down next to him, “what’s going on, Jack? Ever since this afternoon at the market, you’ve gone practically silent. It’s not like you, honey. I-is it something I did? Are you upset with me?”

“No, no, no it’s nothing like that at all, sugar,” he promised as he turned to you, a worried expression on his own face, “I am far from upset, or anything else for that matter. I’ve just had a lot on my mind today - lately.”

“What’s going on? I can help…” you watched with worried eyes as he stood up and moved in front of you, a thoughtful expression on his face as his hands dove into his pockets, “Jack?”

“We’ve been together for a long time now,” he started as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “honestly, it seems like there wasn’t any time in which I didn’t know you. It feels like we’ve always been together…”

“Oh my God,” you looked at him with pouted lips and a worried expression in your eyes, “you’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?”

“What on earth...how...no, Sugar, I am absolutely not breaking up with you or anything of the sort,” he quickly insisted and you relaxed at his reassurance. Then why was he so...off today?

“Then what’s…”

“I love you more than anything,” he reminded you, and your heart fluttered in your chest as you nodded slowly, “and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you. I don’t know a lot, but that is one thing I do know.”

“I want that too,” the corners of your mouth turned up into that brilliant smile that still made Jack weak in the knees. Radiant and golden as ever as nervous butterflies fluttered about his stomach; he was sure you would be able to hear the nervous beating of his heart, “you’re my one, Jack.”

“And you are mine, Sugar,” he slowly kneeled, almost eye level with you as he got down on one knee and reached back into his pocket. Suddenly you knew - all the quiet moments, the little secret he seemed to be hiding, all the extra declarations of love, it all made sense now. Your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry then and there. He reached for your left hand and gently held it in his, “I have never been more sure of anyone or anything, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to build and grow our family together, all of it - I want it with you.”

“Oh honey…” you looked into those soft brown eyes and found that they were glossy with tears as well, “I...love you so much. I want everything with you too. Only you.”

“Well then I just have one very important question to ask you,” he slipped his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He made quick work of displaying the beautiful ring inside. You looked between the ring and him, hardly able to believe this was happening, “Sugar, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and allowing me to be your husband?”

“Yes - yes,” you nodded as he slipped the ring onto your finger. He studied your face for a moment before delicately wiping away your tears, after which you put your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss, “of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes.”

“And just like that, you continue to make me the happiest man in the world,” he scooped you up in his arms and spun you around as he held onto you tightly, “I love you so much, Sugar.”

“I love you too, Jack,” you whispered against his lips, “tell me what finally made you ask? Was it the dress? I always knew yellow was your favorite!”

“Of course not, darlin’,” he laughed lightly, “it was all you - the dress was just an added bonus. How lucky I must be to have the privilege of getting to gaze upon such beauty everyday.”

“And what about me?” you asked in response, “I must be pretty lucky as well. I get you all to myself, the best man, and soon I get to call you my husband.”

“I suppose that makes us a pair of lucky fools,” he mused as you beamed at him, “what do you say we do inside and grab some champagne to celebrate? Just the two of us for now, before we tell the world.”

“I love the sound of that,” you agreed, “this is perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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