#but she was so fucking unbothered she was like 'yeah when i was your age i literally couldn't afford to lose my deposit

[hella1975]

the 'i totally wrecked my walls' saga gets funnier bc ive spent the past few days trying to figure out how tf to get out of the inevitable fine and one thing i joked about was that i have a lot of hard hitters on my side if shit really does get nasty. like my flatmate's mum is an actual soliciter, my dad is a finance guy who can write an email so scathing you'll cry, my local friend's family owns half the property in the city and knows all the tricks of the trade when it comes to housing, and then there's just my mum who was like 'oh yeah i regularly used to dodge rent in my twenties. you'll be fine' and somehow she's the one im finding the most reassuring rn

[wonryllis]

the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.

or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.

meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.

genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.

word count. est around 20k or more

warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.

releasing. very soon!! .. progress update tag

park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.

"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.

"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.

on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.

"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.

FIRST TAGLIST (open.) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly @mintdsunoo @uyuchoco @anittamaxwynnn @rikiwaify-blog @kill4jl @ggparkjh @sstephenzz @judeduartewannabe @jungwoneez @aye2611-blog @hybeboyenthusisast @minjaexvz

[audhd-author]

Electricity

Y/N Smith could've gone her whole life without seeing her brother again. However, her plans to do this change upon receiving an invitation to the Smith family Christmas BBQ. Upon meeting a certain Rick Sanchez, Y/N's intentions for staying become a lot less pure.

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3280 words

NSFW (18+)

Rough sex, face fucking, blow job, heavy degradation, age gap, choking, light bondage, alcohol and drug use, orgasm denial, clit stimulation, nipple play, creampie.

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An exasperated groan escapes your lips as you look out the window of your car. You were in no means excited to be amidst the chatter of a Christmas barbeque but as your niece and nephew were eager to see you, you were in no position to not show up. The sides of your car vibrate with bass as Tech N9ne’s ‘Loud’ continues to blast full volume through the speakers. You had no doubt that everyone across the street could hear your music but frankly, you didn’t care. Sighing, you grab your trusty Fireball/Smirnoff mix from the cupholder and turn off your car, deciding to just rip the bandaid off. Walking across the street, you can hear your car’s defence activate as you take a sip of your alcohol. 

“Y/N! I’m glad you could make it! Jerry was so excited when he found out you were coming.” Beth exclaims, a glass of champagne in her hand as she walks over to greet you. Your hand slips into the front pocket of your jeans as you raise your drink to your lips, gulping down a bigger amount then you’d like to admit before turning your attention to Beth. “I hope you didn’t tell him I was here for him. The only reason I’m even showing up is because of Morty and Summer. Jerry should know he lost his right to call me his sister many years ago now.” You reply nonchalantly before walking away, scanning your eyes over the crowd for your niece and nephew. Spotting them in the open garage with Jerry and what you presumed to be Beth’s dad, you call out to them. “Summer, Morty!” 

The group of fours head’s snap towards you as you walk over. “Aunty!” Summer exclaims, pulling you into an aggressive hug as Morty hugs the other side of you. “Y/N!” Jerry's excitement to see you is evident in his voice. “Aunty? You didn’t tell me you had a sister Jerry.” The fourth person in the garage chimes up, his eyes full of an unrecognisable glint as they take in every inch of your body. A brief, unamused chuckle leaves your lips as you fold your arms over your chest. “He hasn’t had one for nearly a decade now. I’m only here for these two.” You say as Jerry’s expression falls. A smirk pulls at the older man’s lips as he extends a hand out to you. “Rick Sanchez.” 

Taking his hand, a tingling wave of electricity floods through your body and you hesitate, looking up at Rick. It was clear he had felt it too, his eyes unable to leave yours as his eyebrows furrow with both intrigue and confusion. “I-uh, Y/N Smith.” You stammer, quickly retracting your hand from his. While Jerry doesn’t appear to notice, too hurt from your words as he walks back out onto the lawn, it was clear Summer and Morty had. “Aunty, come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Summer says, hurriedly reaching for your arm as she pulls you through the door leading from the garage into the house as you struggle to recentre your thoughts. 

Closing the door after you, Morty turns to Rick. “What in the fuck was that Rick?” Rick’s eyes narrow as he turns around to his bench, leaning over it with his hands gripping the edge. “I-I-I don’t know Morty. We just sh-shook hands, I didn’t do anything to her, I swear.” 

“Yeah you better not have! Aunty Y/N’s nice, I like her! If you ever fucking hurt her Rick-.” Morty yells, his hand shaking as he points it threateningly at his grandfather. Groaning, Rick turns around to face him, unbothered by the finger now jabbing in his chest. “Listen Morty, I wouldn’t hurt her. First of all, sh-sh-she’s a Jerry hater and we need more people like that in this world. Second, I need to figure out what the fuck happened back there an-an-and I need her to not not like me for me to find answers.” Rick turns around to grab his drink off his workbench, taking a skull before letting out a burp. “Now move.” He says, walking past Morty, who is struggling to come up with a response, into the house. 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed Rick watching you throughout the afternoon, standing in the back of the room with one hand in his lab coat and the other always holding a new can of alcohol. However, it’d also be a lie if you said you didn’t like his attention. After the incident in the garage mere hours before, you have been unable to rid your thoughts of him, some pure, many… not so much. “Aunty?” Summer’s voice brings you back to reality. Snapping your eyes down to your cards, your expression remains unreadable as you push all your chips into the middle of the table. “All in.” Rick’s eyes flicker with interest as he hears your words. You’d finally given in to the many offers of poker from your niece, nephew and other guests and Rick was curious to see how well you knew the game, so far you were exceeding his expectations. 

Turning your head to Morty, you wait for his response. “Fold.” He sighs, discarding his cards on the table. All other players opted to fold apart from Summer. Flipping her cards over, she shows four 9s and a 6. “Four of a kind. Y/N?” Beth says as everyone’s eyes turn to you. Taking a sip from your drink, you grin as you turn over your cards, showing everyone an Ace, King, Queen, Jack, and 10 of spades. “Royal flush.” You say, drinking the remainder of your bottle before standing up and walking through to the kitchen. Putting the bottle down on the counter, you pull two flasks from your jacket, each containing fireball and vodka respectively. 

Taking the cap off both flasks, you empty them into your bottle. “Impressive game.” Rick’s voice sounds from behind you and you jump, spinning around to try to hide the excessively strong alcohol mix behind you. “I- thank you. Sorry, I didn't expect you to be behind me.” A smirk pulls at his lips as he leans against the counter opposite you. “Clearly.” His eyebrow raises as he looks around your shoulder. “What are you mixing up over there?” An amused smile appears on your face as you pass him your bottle. “Guess.” He takes it from you, staring at the light brown liquid inside before shrugging and taking a sip. His eyes widen as he swallows, staring at the bottle in shock. “J-jesus fuck. Fireball and vodka?” He coughs, looking up at you as you nod.

“You take drugs too or is the alcohol enough?” He asks, his eyes catching yours as you take your drink back. Unable to break your gaze away from his, you can feel your heart racing as you nod in response. “Yeah, I take drugs.” You could slap yourself. Never before had you become so putty in a man’s gaze but Rick had a certain hold over you that you couldn’t explain. A single chuckle of approval falls from his lips before he grabs for your wrist, leading you through the dining room and entryway to the only door on the right. Opening the door, he lets you walk through before shutting it behind you. Taking a seat on Rick’s bed, you take care not to touch the blueprints and machine designs covering the walls of his room as he rummages through a box near the door. “Molly?” He asks, pulling out a bag of the white powder. “Fuck yes.” You say, a grin pulling at your face as an approved hum leaves Rick’s lips. Pulling the case off of your phone, you grab a straw and an old card from your wallet as he empties half of the bag on the back of your phone. 

Quickly halving the powder on your phone, you make two neat lines. Offering out the straw, Rick takes it as he blocks his right nostril and inhales a line as you hold the phone up for him. “Oh yeah. That always makes my day.” He says, holding your phone up for you as you expertly inhale the remaining line. “Fuck yes.” You reply, enjoying the familiar sting of the powder in your nose. Taking your phone back from him, you dart your tongue out, collecting the rest of the drug on the tip. Rick’s eyes darken with desire as he watches you. Swallowing, you realise your actions and your eyes widen. “Sorry.” 

“I wasn’t complaining.” He says nonchalantly. You can feel your cheeks flushing at his words, averting your gaze to the blueprints on his walls. Taking a sip from his can, Rick takes a seat next to you. “Computer, play playlist 80085.” You can’t help but chuckle upon hearing the playlist name. “Boobs?” He looks over at you, shocked you even know what it spells as A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie’s ‘My Shit’ plays. “What? Boobs are great.” He shrugs and you can’t help but laugh as you begin to fish in your pocket. “Definitely.” Your fingers brush over the small bag in your pocket and an amused smirk pulls across Rick’s face as he sees the contents. “Y-y-you know Y/N, the resemblance between you and Jerry becomes less the longer I’m near you… I-i- like it.” 

“Good, I hate that he’s my brother. Now, you got a bong?” You quickly divert topics as you open the previously chopped bag of weed. Reaching under his bed, Rick pulls out a glass skull-shaped bong and passes it to you as you pull your lighter out from your jeans pocket. You sink the cone almost as fast as you managed to pack it, exhaling as you pass the weed and bong over to him. Falling back on the bed, your head nods along to the beat of the music as you feel the drugs beginning to take effect. “C-congratulations. You’ve officially been in my room longer than any of the family ever has.” Rick says, a cloud of smoke exiting his mouth as he does. You laugh, turning your head to face him as you sit up to take the bong from him. “Words that I’m sure many women have heard before.” You laugh as he looks at you. 

“Nope.” Is all he responds with as you laugh. “Didn’t realise you swung the other way, many men then.” He rolls his eyes as you pack your cone. “Again, nope. I-i-it’s the first time I’ve said it. I don’t bring people to my room.” You almost choke on your cone upon hearing this, the smoke catching in your throat before you have to pause, quickly exerting it from your lungs. “So why me?” You ask before finishing your cone. Rick hesitates before telling himself ‘fuck it’ and responding. “You’re different. I don’t… entirely hate you.” He pauses and you look up at him, both of your breaths catching in your throats. His eyes dart from yours to your lips as you feel your heart rate increase. Leaning over, you press your lips against his as he closes the gap, his hand coming up to cup your face. The tingling wave from the garage returns the moment your lips meet, flooding your veins with ecstasy as he takes the bong from your hand, placing it on the ground. Pushing you backwards, you fall back onto the bed as he shifts his weight above you. 

Sucking your lower lip between his teeth, he gently bites down, extracting a soft moan from you. Rick lets off a small groan as he hears you, his bulge twitching against your thigh. Reaching up, you hurriedly pull his lab coat off his shoulders, along with his shirt as he grasps the hem of your top, pulling it over your head to reveal your perfectly-fitted bra. “Jesus fuck. Computer, engage soundproof mode.” He murmurs before attaching his lips to the crook of your neck as his hand entangles in your hair, pulling your head to the side. Your breathing intensifies as he lightly trails his hand over the sensitive skin on your stomach up to your breasts, taking your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger. You can feel your core drip with desire as he sucks the skin on your neck into his mouth, your back arching as he squeezes your nipples, his hips grinding down against your thigh. You can feel the size of him through the fabric and you can feel your arousal pool in your underwear. 

Dipping his hand under your back, he expertly unclips your bra before lowering his mouth to your breasts. His free hand dips down under the waistband of your panties, running his finger through your folds, a desperate moan falling off your lips. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” He groans, sucking your arousal off of his fingers before standing up, his hands undoing his belt. He didn’t even have to tell you to get on your knees, you were already there. “Fuck you’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you?” He chuckles as you nod, dropping his pants and boxers to the floor. Just the mere sight of his size had your core tightening with lust. Sucking the tip into your mouth, your tongue runs up and down over his slit as he curses, tightening his grip in your hair. “Good whore, you know your place is on your knees in front of me, don’t you?” You hum in agreement as you draw more of his length into your mouth, causing his tip to hit the back of your throat, his hips bucking in pleasure as you stifle a gag, your eyes filling with tears. His grip in your hair tightens as you pull back before taking more of him in. 

“Holy shit, you dirty little whore, you wanna take all of me in your filthy mouth, don’t you?” He groans as you nod, sucking your cheeks around his cock as he pushes the rest of his length down your throat. You instantly gag but his hold on your head keeps you still as he pulls out slightly before pushing himself back in again. “Fuck, such a pretty sight you are with my cock in your mouth.” He groans, speeding up the pace, fucking your face as precum dribbles down your throat. Panting heavily, he withdraws himself from your throat as you gasp for air. “Stand up.” He says, his voice deep with desire. You obey, quickly getting to your feet as he pushes you back onto the bed again. His hands undo your jeans, unburdening you of the rest of your clothes. 

Digging his fingers into your hips, he drags you to the edge of his bed, your legs falling on either side of him. Your core tightens as he runs the tip of his cock from your throbbing clit to your folds before slowly pushing himself inside of you. Rick’s name falls off your lips in a desperate moan as he fills you up. “Shit, your fucking milking my cock. You’re so fucking tight for me.” He groans as he presses himself further inside of you, stretching your walls around him. “Holy shit.” You gasp once his full length is inside of you, your hands grasping for the bedsheets. Grabbing your legs, he pulls them over his shoulder and you could swear you see stars from the extra depth. Clenching yourself around him, a pleasured groan falls off both of your lips as Rick digs his nails into your hips. Curses escape the both of you as he slowly begins thrusting into you. The sound of your arousal is sinful, mixing with pleasured moans and your skin slapping against his. Neither of you could hear the music over the noise both of you are creating. You can’t contain your pleasure as Rick increases his pace, your eyes rolling back in your head as he fills every inch of you. 

Letting go of your legs, Rick quickly pulls himself out from inside you. “Move back up on the bed.” He orders and you quickly obey, needing him to fill you up again. Repositioning himself in between your legs, he quickly slides back inside you, a pleasured moan escaping you. “Fuck, your pussy is squeezing my cock, are you that desperate for me whore?” He groans and you frantically nod. “Fuck yes, you feel so fucking good.” You’re aware of how needy you’re being but the feeling of him inside you is heavenly, the way he stretches you out makes your core tighten in pleasure. “What a good girl.” He grins as he roughly slams into you, extracting a string of moans from your lips. 

A knock on the door startles you, your head turning towards the sound as Beth’s voice comes from the other side of the wall. “Rick? Have you seen Y/N? She disappeared a while ago and we haven’t seen her.” Rick, however, doesn’t falter. His hand covers your mouth as he continues to buck his hips into you. “Be a good whore and stay quiet. Computer, deactivate soundproof mode.” He growls before responding to Beth. “Nope, I haven't seen her.” His pace only increases as he speaks, your eyes rolling back as he continues to bottom you out. “Alright, well let me know if you do. The kids are asking for her.” She calls back. Trailing his free hand down your body, Rick begins lazily rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb, a muffled moan escaping you as your body shakes with pleasure. His eyes dart to yours as he smirks, focusing more attention on your clit as he continues to pound into you. “Yep, will do.” He responds to Beth before turning the soundproof system back on. “What did I fucking say?” He growls, moving his hand from your mouth to your throat, squeezing the veins on the side of your neck. “Be quiet.” You say in response, your legs shaking in pleasure. 

“And what did you do?” He roughly thrusts into you as he asks this, forcing you into the brink of orgasm. “Fuck, I-I didn’t listen.” You moan as your body continues to shake, your toes curling in overwhelming pleasure. “Don’t you dare fucking cum. You got it, whore? You disobey me and you get punished. Fucking hold it.” He growls, slamming harder into you as your vision blurs. “Rick, please. I need to cum. I can’t hold it, please I need to.” Begging to cum is not something you’re used to but you know you can’t hold it, your body uncontrollably twitching as you try to obey him. “No. Hold it.” He reiterates, slamming himself further inside you, emphasising each word. His thrusts increase his pace, each one getting sloppier as he gets closer to his own orgasm. Rick’s hips stall as he reaches his high, his hands moving to support himself above you as a guttural moan escapes him. “Cum for me.” He gasps, thrusting into you as his hand moves back down your clit. Those three words were all you were waiting for. Rick’s name falls off your lips amongst a string of moans as a wave of ecstasy crashes over you, your body arching in pleasure as your breathing intensifies. 

Withdrawing his softening member from inside of you, Rick leans forward to grasp your wrists, pulling you up to the headboard. Two metal cuffs surround your wrist, securing you in place as you look up at him, startled. He smirks at the sight. “Oh Y/N, we’re not done.”

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A/N: This was honestly so fun to write. I've been on a bit of a Rick and Morty obsession lately. Part 2?

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[thebearer]

An adult makes a sly comment about Teddy when the family is walking in public (maybe a mall) and Carmen gets so heated he was ready to throw hands but the reader has to stop him.

"We've gotta go get you some new tap shoes, and then Mama needs to go to the makeup store-"

"-Ooh! I wanna go too!" Teddy squealed, hand squeezing yours. "Can I go in with you?"

"If you're being good." You give her a half-hearted stern glare. "If you're being wild and going to touch everything, you have to stay with Daddy."

"I'll be good." Teddy nodded, hands swinging with yours and Carmen's, walking between the two of you.

Carmen grinned, letting her swing and twirl around his hand, even in the aisles of the dance supply store. "Was it Capezio or the Bloch ones..?" You muttered, looking between the two. "Let me just check the text again. Can you hold these?" You asked Carmen, handing him the two boxes.

Teddy still twirled, wide and long down the aisles, Carmen's eyes trained on her. Another dad, maybe a grandfather by how old he was, and his child, around Teddy's age, walked down the aisle.

"Teddy, c'mere." Carmen nodded, the four year old pirouetting down to him. "Stay here, alright?"

"Here, don't move." The other man said to his kid, nodding down for the child to sit on the small bench. "Stay right there, ok? Don't be running around like that kid." He nodded towards Teddy.

You tensed, eyes moving from Teddy- who was completely unbothered- to Carmen. His eyes flashing, grip tightening on the boxes. Carmen wasn't violent, not by nature. Hot headed, protective? Sure, but not violent.

Until someone threatened his family. It had happened once, a guy on the L shoving you when you were pregnant. Carmen had shoved him back, eyes wild and screaming at the guy until he retreated in fear. It was rare, very rare, but Carmen would protect his family.

"The fuck did you just say?" Carmen spat, setting the boxes down gently, brows furrowed already stalking towards the guy.

"Carmen," You hissed, grabbing at his arm, one hand on Teddy.

"No, what did he say? You talkin' about my kid, jagoff?" Carmen challenged.

"Yeah, your kid that you're too lazy to watch. Lettin' her run up and down these aisles while I'm trying to shop." The old man scoffed, glaring at Teddy.

"She wasn't in your way, and even if she was, you don't talk about my kid, alright? I'll knock your fuckin' teeth in, you piece of-" Carmen sneered, teeth grit, fists balled with rage.

"Carmen," You snapped, your tone teetering on the edge of a gasp and a growl. It made Carmen turn, seeing Teddy in your arms, grabbing at your jacket, wide eyed- scared. It made Carmen's stomach turn.

Carmen turned to the other man, tongue running across his teeth menacingly. "You better watch your fuckin' mouth, alright? Talk about my kid or any kid again, and I'll beat your fuckin' skull in." Carmen spat, turning and grabbing Teddy's coat and your hand.

"What is the matter with you?" You hiss, holding Teddy close to your chest, trying to quiet her little cries. She was scared, of course she was.

Carmen's eyes cut down to her, softening at the watery eyed look she gave him. "You heard him." Carmen snapped, nerves still grated and furious. He took a deep breath, hand running down his face to calm himself.

"Look, he's not talkin' about my kid, alright? She wasn't doin' anything- Teddy, you weren't doing anything." Carmen cooed, running a hand down her soft curls. "That guy was just an ass-"

"-Carmen-"

"-a poop head." Carmen muttered. "You don't let anyone talk mean to you like that, ok? You tell Daddy if they do."

Teddy was nodded slowly, a little confused, but less concerned now that she knew she wasn't in trouble.

"I think the store across town will have better stuff anyways." You try to change the subject, at least in front of Teddy for now. "And there's a Target. Daddy should take us there, shouldn't he?" You ask, brow raised in challenge more so than question when you looked at Carmen.

Carmen agreed, of course he did. He didn't complain when you ordered Teddy a cake pop, or when you'd slip another useless decoration in the basket. He kept his hand on you the whole time, possessive- grounding. You knew he needed to feel you, calm himself that way, so you let him.

[pricegouge]

Price but he’s ignoring you as you ride his cock like your life depends on it. Just…going through his paperwork like he’s unbothered that you’re gripping his cock like a vice

i changed it to him taking a phone call for horny related reasons

cw: amab reader. maybe a tiny little bit of a sissy kink if you squint. clit and cunt are used for genitals, though no gendered terms for reader themself. chastity device/cumming untouched. very brief daddy kink. yeah.

The worst part about it is you were fucking close. Between the angle and the way he pistoned up in to you, or the way his strong grip on your hips held you down against him, he was hitting that spot only he ever seemed able to reach just right, everytime, and you'd been on the verge of cumming all over him when his phone rang.

"John," you'd hissed when he reached for it, trying to swat at his hand. He'd just tutted at you, told you to be quiet like a good toy as he accepted the call, cock still burried to the hilt within you.

You play nice until you gather it's Laswell and pout when you realize it could take a while, though the way John never flags is encouraging. You let his grumbling wash over you for a bit, disinterested, and keep yourself entertained by stroking your hands over his hairy belly, trying to make the best of this unexpected intermission by using it to appreciate him - how handsome he is, how soft he's getting in his old age. It works until it doesn't, your wandering hands only serving to turn you on even more. So you can't be blamed when your hips give an experimental grind, swallowing him down impossibly deeper.

John grunts, gives you that patronizing look from under his bushy brow. He takes advantage of Kate's long-winded instructions on the other end to mouth one word at you - behave - before his gruff voice returns, confirming through the phone that he understands whatever it is she was saying.

Unlike him, you're not in such a listening mood.

When your pace picks up, John spares you exactly one disappointed frown, a single shake of his head, and then he's relaxing into his seat, free hand falling away from you to plant his elbows on his arm rests, sighing in frustration or annoyance or both as he tilts his face toward the ceiling, listening to Kate prattle on in silence, the working of his jaw the only indication he's thinking anything at all.

It's frustrating work. Without John's help, you can't mimick the strong, deep strokes he'd been fucking you with and your irritation only grows, even as you lean back, planting your hands on his desk to guide his cock toward your front wall, grinding your hips just right to make the bulbous head of him work against that spot that usually has your eyes crossing. It works here, too, forcing stuttered little gasps out of your mouth as you try to keep quiet (John doesn't seem to care about your noises, but you do - the tought of looking Kate in the eye next time you see her knowing full well she's heard what you sound like when you get off a mortifying prospect), but still it's not enough, not when you can't tug your clit for the cage he's had you locked in since morning.

Your hands find purchase on his arm rests first, the one hand covering his and attempting to gain his attention by squeezing the back of his meaty fist as you continue to ride him shallowly, working yourself back up. John just shakes you off, your hand skittering up his burly arm until you can plant it on his wide shoulder, your other gripping the forearm of the hand which cradles his phone before sliding to his bicep. He's still dressed, the thick material of his shirt stiff between your fingers because he'd been too eager, before. This touch he seems to accept, or at least doesn't care enough about to break his concentration as he continues to chat with Laswell. Suits you fine, his strong body perfect to lean against as you heave yourself off him, slamming back down with as much force as you can generate despite your knees being crammed up on his hips, his frame too wide for you to properly straddle him in this chair.

You finally get a reaction from him when you climb off, change position, turn around to straddle his wideset knees and grip his cock tight, stroking just to hear him grunt into the phone before lowering yourself onto him, cunt slick with more than just lube from the feel of it and all you need to carry on, the knowledge you're having an effect on him.

It's much easier to get a proper rhythm like this, your hips slamming down onto his when you lean back against him, hands braced on his armrests. John doesn't shake your grip this time, lets you grip his meaty wrist as you you use him, lets your head tilt back onto his shoulder. Briefly, you worry Kate can hear your panting, and then John you catch John's own stuttered breaths in your ear and you stop worrying altogether, too busy chasing the small huffs he lets slip when your cunt squeezes him like a vice - the only indication you're having an effect on him at all and yet still enough to drive you mad, a desperate little thing for his approval.

So when a proper moan escapes you - tiny but there, undeniable - and John's cock twitches within you, his facade breaking just enough you can feel it, you're done, cum leaking from your useless little untouched clit and spilling over the edges of your cage as you wind yourself down, cunt trying to milk John's cock for all it's worth despite his continued disinterest.

It's when you're slumped forward against the desk again, too sensitive and strung out to bother extracting yourself quite yet that you finally hear John sign off, the quiet chirp of the line disconnecting as he leans forward to place it on the desk next to you. He stays there a moment, cuddled close, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back while his heavy palms reacquaint themselves with your hips, fingers digging in as he regains his forgotten grip on you, cock twitching within your abused cunt.

"Done already, love? Selfish little thing, you. Daddy's turn. "

[httpsdana]

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 ���𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬~𝐀 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐭 𝟏

summary: Barça players and talented footballers. Souls meet and sparks fly. But there's always a twist when it comes to love isn't there?

pairing: Ferran Torres x Gonzalez!Reader

warnings: cursing, slight age gap, angst

next part

Football runs in the family they say. Pedri Gonzalez was one of the new star boys of this generation. No one cares about his family or past, they just acknowledge the present.

A few knew that he had a sister. She called herself 'the forgotten child'. No one knew that she was a barça femeni player. Because simply no one cares about women's football.

The talent she had only bloomed in La Masia. The football dream academy. She was there alongside many other ladies that are well known. Aitana Bonmati and Salma Paralluelo were two of the players she played with when she was younger, but they got the chance to play for the first team before her, which only motivated her to push herself more, now reserving a spot in the starting line up of the women's team.

So there she was now, with the most g/a in Liga F, and the star of her team. Still no one knew her blood relations with the star boy Pedri, as she preferred to have her own name, rather than be hidden in the shadows of her twin.

What she didn't know was that she had some admirers from the men's team. She knew all of the players of course, unlike others she watched men's football and followed the barça men team. She admired the youngsters, got inspired by the experts, and found motivations in players who have seemed to come back from the death. The Shark Ferran Torres.

The number 7 has caught her attention after seeing the change in his mentality from the previous season to the current one. He seemed more stable and determined to prove others wrong, just like she did.

She didn't know that he secretly praised her, and watched her highlights through out the years. He began watching the women's team's matches because of her. He even learned some stuff from her, making him appreciate her even more, without anyone knowing.

No one needed to know that half the reason behind his change of mentality, was a 20 year old lady who played football and inspired him more than anyone else could.

He didn't know she was the twin of his best friend. Which is what causes the twist in their futures.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"y/n you are the star of your team, people knowing about you being my twin now isn't gonna change anything" Pedri said, annoyed by the thoughts his sister had.

"who told you so Pedro? I prefer to stay like this than get more attention for being your sister" she rolled her eyes and flopped on the couch next to Fernando, who seemed unbothered while he watched a movie and ate some popcorn.

"god I wanna know who put these thoughts in your head. I miss going out with you" he let out a sigh, sitting next to her on the couch

y/n shook her head and focused on the movie that was being played.

"how about you meet my best friends? you literally don't have any social skills or friends" he complained making her roll her eyes

"Aita is my friend" she shrugged, knowing this was partially a lie. they were just teammates, not the type to go out on free days

"yeah and Ronaldo is better than Messi. you know she's not your friend" he rolled his eyes

"why are you so bothered anyways?" she asked, stealing some popcorn from Fer, making him hit her hand.

"you may not notice it now, but this will slowly destroy your mental health later on. you should go out and meet some new people. look beyond football and enjoy your free days" Pedri said.

He was slowly getting in her head, and she knew he was right. She let out a sigh and nodded her head.

"I'll think about it. how about I beat your ass in fifa now?" she smirked, making him gasp jokily.

"yeah as if you can do that" he scoffed, turning Fer's movie off to turn his PS5

"hey what the fuck?" Fernando said, making them laugh. Fer shook his head and glanced on his phone before getting up.

"mom texted she needs some help at home, I'm gonna go now" he said, taking his stuff and walking out of Pedri's apartment.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"haha! that's 3-1 to me. you're such a loser" y/n slapped the back of Pedri's head, making him glare at her

"whatever I let you win anyways" he shrugged, making her laugh

they were interrupted by a knock on the door of the apartment. y/n looked at Pedri, who shrugged and got up to open the door.

She turned off the PS5 and put the movie back on, before Pedri walked awkwardly to the room. y/n stood up confused, before someone appeared behind Pedri.

"y/n, this Ferran. Ferran, y/n..my sister"

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 15: HANDCUFFS

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Fluff, Smut

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE

After about half an hour following the end of your class, all of the students and their parents had left and it was finally time for you to knock off as well and head to Cillian’s house for dinner.

Apparently, he was cooking for you and you weren’t quite sure whether you should be concerned or excited. No man had ever cooked dinner for you which is why, in the end, you went with option two. You were excited and looked forward to something other than instant noodles for a change.

***

When you finally arrived at Cillian’s apartment and he answered the door however, you were left speechless and, evidently, so was he was.

“This smells amazing. I can’t believe that you are actually cooking for me” you said after he gave you a quick kiss and before returning to stove.

“And I can’t believe how incredible you look in your dance clothes” Cillian responded when he saw you wearing not much else but a pair of tight leggings, leg warms and flats, combined with an oversized cardigan which covered the leotard you had on.  

“Is that sarcasm, because none of this looks appealing right now?” you asked somewhat confused while placing your bag to the side of the door and unzipping your cardigan.

“No. I am dead serious. You look hot in this” Cillian said before quickly turning down the heat on the stove and approaching you for a more serious kiss.

“You are so strange and I like it” you giggled against his lips while he caught you in a tight embrace before telling you that he had to finish cooking.

“What are you making?” you wondered and when he responded with the word “risotto” you were even more excited than before.

***

“So, Nina called me earlier and so did Dermont” Cillian then said after pouring you a glass of red wine, which is also when you joined him in the kitchen, watching him cook.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, panicking a little before telling Cillian that Connie asked you about which acting school you were going to.

“Yeah, she knows” Cillian informed you, but you weren’t quite sure what he meant by that.

“About?” you thus asked and Cillian explained.

“About us, which is fine” he said. He was almost unbothered by the fact that more and more people were now privy to your little secret.

“She won’t tell?” you asked, still worried.

“No, she won’t. Dermont and I have been friends for many years and I have entrusted them both with many secrets over time. Don’t worry about it, alright?” Cillian reassured you while taking your hands into his for a moment and pulling you in for a kiss.

“And Nina? How was she? Because she seemed rather upset at class today. I tried to help her but…” you began to say after your lips drifted apart and just as you spoke about his daughter with concern, Cillian felt a flutter in his stomach.

“I know. I’ve heard. Connie mentioned it to Dermont” he said almost shyly while looking into your eyes and seeing how truly beautiful you were. He was in awe with you and you could see this on his face.

“I am sorry Cill. I hope it was okay for me to get involved like this, as her teacher. It’s a tricky situation” you stammered nonetheless.

“I think it’s more than okay Y/N. You didn’t have to do that but I appreciate that you did. You are absolutely amazing and I think Nina really likes you. She didn’t stop talking about you and how cool you are” Cillian said to reassured you and a warm smile formed across his lips.

“I am pretty cool” you acknowledged with a quiet chuckle just as Cillian caressed your cheeks.

“Yes you are and I am very fucking lucky to have met you” he then went on to say before he kissed you again, this time more desperately than before.

“Cill, I am all sweaty…” you said, seeing that this kiss was lingering and turning into something else.

“I don’t care” he murmured in response before pulling away from you. “Although dinner is almost ready and risotto usually tastes best fresh, so we should probably eat first” he then said and you agreed.

......

You sat at the table and could smell his cologne as he set your plate down in front of you. God, this man was doing something to you no one else had managed before. His sent alone sent shivers down your spine.

“I hope you like it” Cillian then said and you smiled at him as he took his seat as well.

“It looks and smells amazing. Thank you” you said, which is also when you realised how that you liked how he made you feel, how he wanted you and how he wanted you to feel comfortable and welcome in his presence. He made an effort for you and he was so kind, gentle and empathetic that it made your heart melt. He was getting under your skin without him realising it, in best possible way. Sometimes you hated how he made you want him. It was never meant to be like this, but he had something that no one else had and it were moments like this, non-sexual ones, that you realised that you wanted him to be more than just a secret. You wanted him to be yours because you loved him, even after such a short amount of time.

.....

In the end, dinner was wonderful. Cillian was an amazing cook and, throughout, you chatted about life, Cillian’s children and the fact that you did not want any of your own. It was comfortable.

He made you relax around him which you loved and, after you had cleaned up, you decided that it was time for a shower.

“Go ahead. You know where everything is” Cillian said and, indeed, by now, you knew his apartment well enough to find your way around it.

Thus, you took your bag and got into the shower which is where you spent the next ten minutes until you were done.

Once done, you put on a thin cotton robe which you had brought with you and called out to Cillian.

“Do you have any moisturiser?” you asked and when he responded to your question and advised you that there is some in the top draw of his bedside table, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Of course there is” you chuckled, seeing what else he could possibly be using it for and, when you went to look for it, you were rather surprised to find something else as well, namely a set of handcuffs.

**

“Handcuffs? Seriously?” you teased just as you walked back into the living room with them, holding them up and causing Cillian to blush.

“This is not what it looks like” he reassured you almost nervously and you began to chuckle.

“Oh no?” you asked. “I am all ears then, so please explain!” you demanded and Cillian was quick to admit to you that the handcuffs were a present he received at a bucks-party a few weeks ago.

“Did you ever use them?“ you asked, causing Cillian to shake his head.

“No” he told you and this, to you, was the perfect invitation to try them out.

“I suppose there is always a first time for everything, right?” you thus teased before gesturing him to follow you into his bedroom.

“So, am I tying you up?” Cillian wondered just as his excitement grew and he followed you eagerly.

“No, I am tying you up and you will not be allowed to cum until I give you permission” you winked convincingly and, for all you knew, Cillian let out a quiet and inadvertent groan at the sheer thought of it.

“So, do you have any objections to my proposal then?” you winked as you pulled Cillian into the bedroom and he quickly shook his head.

“None whatsoever! Do whatever you want to me. I am all yours” he said almost desperately, causing you to laugh.

“Very well then. Take your clothes off and lay down for me” you ordered and, again, Cillian nodded eagerly.

“Yes ma’am” he then said jokingly while you watched him follow your orders until, eventually, he climbed onto his large bed.

“Good. Now put your arms up so that I can secure you to the bed” you winked while, suddenly, dropping your robe to the floor, causing Cillian’s chin to drop.

“Fuck” Cillian groaned at the sight of you just before you joined him and secured his wrists in cuffs to the bedhead.

“Unbelievable! I didn’t even touch you yet and you are so hard already” you teased as you kneeled back in order to study his body, including every vein on his hard shaft.

“Can you blame me?” Cillian chuckled and you shook your head.

"Just remember, you will not be permitted to cum until I say that you can" you then whispered. "Do you understand?" you ought to clarify and Cillian starred back at you and nodded again.

"Yes, ma’am” he stammered and, by this point, there was a slightly sardonic smile on his lips.

"Very good” you smiled broadly in return before you reached up, taking his face between your hands, and kissing him softly on the lips. The kiss was sensuous, your mouth lingering on his, and you felt a stirring in your core.

When you pulled away and glanced down, you also noticed that he was not only rock hard now but was also already leaking precum which you quickly collected with the tip of your index finger.

You then brought your index finger to your mouth and licked it clean, eliciting yet another groan from Cillian as he watched you teasing him like this.  

You then ran your fingers along his arms, down his neck and shoulders, and traced his nipples with your fingertips before moving your hands over his chest and stomach, sending shivers down his spine. Cillian groaned again in response and you felt him shiver.

You flashed a sly grin as you stopped just below his belly button and watched his cock twitch with need. You weren’t going to give in just yet and looked at him again, making him wait.

“Please” Cillian begged almost desperately, wanting you to touch him and, after a long moment, you reached down and lightly touched his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N! Please!” he groaned again as you flicked your fingers over the tip, fluttering and teasing.

“Be patient” you ordered as you just toyed with him for a few minutes before, finally, you used both hands and stroked his cock on both sides, feeling it swell under your fingers as Cillian made small noises of pleasure.

You continued to stroke with both hands, then wrapped one hand firmly around his shaft and stroked with more pressure until his body started to move.

“God why are you so fucking good at this?” Cillian groaned as, never before, he could have cum from a hand job alone but, for some reason, your hands were magic and he was so close already.

“Don’t cum” you ordered again, feeling the small pulsations of his cock against your hand.

“I am not sure if I can control myself Y/N” he told you through quiet little moan and you immediately pulled away and watched Cillian’s face. His lips were slightly parted, but his breathing was still normal.

“You have to Cillian! You will not cum until I tell you to cum” you reminded him before you reached out again and stroked his cock, gently but firmly, from base to tip.

“Fuck” Cillian spat again as, suddenly, you began to fondle his balls before, again, focusing your touch on his engorged shaft.

You used both hands again, keeping up the rhythm and the pressure and, when you noticed him starting to thrust upwards, you moved your hand away, causing him to groan softly.

Then, you made him wait some more before you squeezed the base of his shaft with one hand and began to lightly play the fingers of your other hand around the tip of his cock. You smeared the precum around the head as you felt your own juices drip out of your pussy. You continued to play with your fingers until Cillian groaned loudly again and then you pulled away once more.

“Fuck please” Cillian groaned as he thrusted his hips into the open air, his mouth open, his breathing rapid but you waited until his breathing slowed down and he stopped moving again.

“Please what?” you teased as you repositioned yourself.

“Please let me cum” Cillian begged as, by this point, you kept teasing him for thirty minutes already.

“No” you simply responded before you ran your hands up and down his lean, sculpted legs, savoring the smoothness of his skin.

You then continued to stroke his legs before tying back your hair.

“I am going to use my mouth now” you announced before lightly licking the underside of the tip of his cock.

“For fuck sake Y/N. You are killing me” Cillian groaned and you smiled as you felt a slight shiver in his body.

“I am sure you will survive” you teased as you licked his cock for a while longer before taking the head of his engorged member between your lips.

“Yes. God. Fuck” Cillian groaned incoherently as you sucked and licked just the head while reaching beneath him and digging your fingernails into his taut ass. When he pushed against you though, you backed away, watching his cock quiver inches from your face.

His tip was now leaking precum pretty much uncontrollably and every time Cillian’s body calmed down, you took all of him in your mouth, slowly sucking his full length, until you felt him quiver again.

For an entire hour, you teased him like this. You stopped and pulled away, watching the veins bulge on either side of his eager member.

“I am begging you Y/N” Cillian said desperately as all he could think about was his swollen cock. The teasing was starting to mess with his mind, and he swallowed hard. "Let me cum. Please” he thus begged again but you kept on going.

"Not yet" you said while his body was trembling until you both heard the doorbell ring.

“Ignore it and keep going” Cillian begged you but, after the third time, you both figured that it might be important so you quickly uncuffed Cillian who then went and answered the intercom.

After having wrapped a towel around him, he spoke to the fill in clerk at the bottom of the building who informed him that a woman by the name of Kit McCallum was there to see him.

“Fuck, alright. Send her up” Cillian said while looking at you with concern.

“Uhm, who is it?” you asked, seeing whether you should go and hide.

“Kit” Cillian said before having a thought about what to do.

“At eight o’clock on a Friday night? Why?” you asked surprised, seeing that this was a little odd and, when Cillian shrug his shoulders, you decided not to worry about it.

“I don’t know. I was not expecting her, but you may need to open the door for her” Cillian then begged you while looking at his raging erection which was still poking against the white fluffy towel that he had wrapped around him.

“And tell her what?” you asked, laughing.

“Tell her that I am in the shower, which is exactly where I am going now in order bring this hard-on down with some cold water” he explained before planting a kiss on to your lips and quickly wandering off.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Would You? | Five Hargreeves

✦ pairing — Five Hargreeves x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 3.2k

✦ request — could i possibly have something with five where reader is in love with luther but luther is with sloane (can be a modern au) and five is pissed off that she still likes luther because he likes her and she gives him a chance and falls for him?

✦ warnings — angst, reader is a lonely person, reader has weak superpowers, mommy issues, Five still lives with his siblings, mentions of violence, mentions of food and beverages (alcohol included), fluff.

════════════════════════

You didn't hate her. You were sure it was impossible to do so. Sloane was too bright, too kind in a world that only met her with despair. She was gentle, even with you, even when you knew she could tell you were in love with Luther.

Attending their second wedding was a mistake. You should have known better. In your head, you would take it well after witnessing the first one already, but you had only fooled yourself.

You were happy for them, happy they had found love, but it had been easier to ignore the pain when the world was about to end.

Saving the world should have been worth it, but the knots in your stomach as you watched them dance said otherwise.

"I don't understand what you see in him,” Five said from beside you.

You swirled your glass, looking down at the slowly shrinking ice sphere. "He's handsome, tall, nice, easy to talk to..."

"Oh, yeah? What do you talk about?"

Your eyes traced the wooden bar, perfectly polished yet scratched from wear. "Things."

"I don't see it."

Five always went to the point, you learned as much mere days after meeting him. Twisting your body, you faced him. He looked so different now, just a couple years older than you — his eyes, much like his jawline, were still sharp, hair dark and perfectly combed.

From what you remembered and the family photos you had seen, he was the one whose appearance changed the least with age. Still boyish, yet much taller than one would have thought he would be upon meeting his thirteen-year-old body, he was unbothered by the commotions around him, by the people dancing and laughing. Like they didn’t exist, like only you and Five Hargreeves were in that room.

As unapproachable as he was to strangers, he had that effect on people. You had seen it before, many times, people’s gazes lingered and they tried to give him smiles in the streets, some even tried to make small talk to no avail.

Five lifted his eyebrows, waiting for the answer brewing in your eyes.

You admitted, "Well, he doesn't either."

"Okay," he sighed. "Let's have your pity party."

"Thank you."

Rolling his eyes, he reached over and took the bottle of whisky from behind the counter. The bartender didn’t even blink. Five refilled your glass, ignoring the water pulling at the bottom from the now tiny ice sphere.

You gulped the watered-down liquid in one go, not wanting to ruin the experience of perfectly good whisky for a petty man who looked too proud of his little joke.

Whose sense of humor was more fucked up you would never know. His from finding it amusing, yours from agreeing, perhaps none — perhaps it was the idea itself that amused you, the thought behind his actions that made you feel something other than pitiful jealousy.

The night had been long as it was and you weren’t even halfway through the celebrations. You were way past half the bottle, though.

In the middle of laughs and hushed gossip, Five and you moved to the outdoor area. Your dress would be ruined in the dirt, but so would his suit and he didn’t seem to mind.

Fairy lights hung between and around the trees. You looked up at them as Five guided you to the farthest tree from the entrance. Both of you sat against the bark, Five carried another bottle of whisky whilst you carried your shoes.

The garden looked as pretty as it had earlier, decorated with white flowers that stood out against the sheer amount of green you had only seen at a hillside when you were a child, back when people took more care of the environment.

The flower arrangements were pretty, yes, but the flowers that grew around the garden were gorgeous too.

Five’s eyes were on you. He opened his mouth to say something, but he clamped it shut and shook his head.

“What is it?” you asked.

"I've liked you for so long," he whispered. "But I'm not nice like him, am I?"

You frowned. "You're nice when you want to be. Like right now."

"'m not being nice, just too tired to fight."

You didn’t ask if he was tired of fighting with you or for you. Both would have been understandable, as shocking as the revelation of his feelings for you was.

Categorically, you weren’t each other’s type. Although his type was confusing seeing as the only partner of his you had known about was a mannequin —whom you presumed had been his only partner, to begin with— and yours often ended up being people who didn’t want you.

Heartbreak was a nagging presence in your life, at least in the romantic sense of it. Your relationships rarely lasted, and the ones that did ended so swiftly you didn’t really mourn them.

"Why did you save her?” he asked, taking you out of your thoughts, and bringing you back to the present from where you always ran away.

"What do you mean?"

"Last week. You could have let her die and comfort Luther. Maybe even seduce him."

"I considered it," you confessed, ashamed of your selfishness. "But I felt awful about it, I don't think I could live with myself if I did that."

Five hummed. "You're a better person than me."

"That's not true."

"It is,” he firmly insisted.

"Would you let your brother die just to seduce his partner?"

"It's different."

"Yeah,” you conceded. “But—”

He didn’t let you add anything else, your agreement was enough, even more so when he needed to say, “You’re also different.”

“Five...”

You were so predictable, you found. He had you all figured out, he knew how much you longed for this kind of attention.

“I mean it.”

“I believe you.” It came out as a whisper even though you didn’t intend for it to be one.

He craned his neck to the side, gazing at you with glazed eyes. “Good. I have no reason to lie and humiliate myself.”

“I wouldn’t let you humiliate yourself,” you told him, putting the bottle aside to scoot closer.

Five made a motion to reach over, then retracted his hand. “I know.”

════════════════════════

Your foggy window was cold to the touch and your day boring. You were half a book and four cups of tea deep into a rainout and although you had always liked the rain, you wished it would relent just long enough for you to do the groceries you had put off a couple of days ago.

And yet, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the window as heavy rain fell.

Rain reminded you of Five and his endless love for it. The pitter-patter mimicked his steps if you listened closely enough.

Closing the book, you decided to text him with the excuse of his beloved rain, jokingly asking if he had drowned in the courtyard already.

Twenty minutes and a few bantering texts later, he was knocking on your door, coffee and pastries in hand. You had never been so jealous of his powers.

He sat on the couch, neck craned towards the window while you looked for another blanket. You handed him the spare blanket, watching as he hesitated to take his eyes off the rain. It was endearing to see Five like that, like a curious child fascinated by nature.

“Do you want a mug for your coffee or…?”

“The paper cup is fine,” he assured you.

You sat next to him, with the rain behind you just outside the window. He fixed his eyes on you. “I take it your day has been boring too?”

“Exhausting. Diego wouldn’t stop complaining about the power being out.”

“Isn’t that boxing match he wanted to watch today?”

Five shrugged. “You pay more attention to the things he says than I do.”

You knew that wasn’t true. Five paid attention to everything; sometimes you thought it was a habit of his, others you assumed he did it just to have something to criticize people for. Either way, he paid attention to everything to a supernatural extent.

“I’m sure he’ll end up watching it at a bar or something.”

He huffed a laugh. “Probably a better experience than watching anything with Luther.”

“He hasn’t moved?” You had assumed he would move now that he was married.

“Nah. He likes his bedroom too much.” Five took a gulp of coffee, watching your reaction. “She doesn’t mind, though.”

You scrunched up your nose. “Sounds uncomfortable.”

“You dodged a bullet.”

“I dodged having you as a roommate,” you went along with his banter.

He rolled his eyes. “I am an amazing roommate.”

“I doubt it.”

“I’m never home!”

“Even worse.”

He shook his head, trying to hide the smile threatening to come out. But you wanted to see it, a relaxed Five was unparalleled.

“I’ve thought about moving,” he said casually. “But I like the big library and the stocked-up kitchen.”

“Like you couldn’t steal some of Reginald’s money and get a place big enough?”

“Eh.” Five shrugged, then shook his head. “It would be the same, wouldn’t it? Living off him.”

“Without all the things that bother you, but yeah.”

“Is that why you moved out of your mother’s?”

You never talked about it, and unlike him, you had never complained about living with your siblings. But your mother was an exhausting woman to live with.

“She’s re-marrying,” you opted for saying. “Only my youngest sibling will stay.”

“I didn’t know she was seeing somebody.”

“He’s in it for the money and she needs someone to drag to events.” You slid down the couch, getting more comfortable as you rested your head on the backrest. “He’s a painter. Divorced, no kids. Perfect for her.”

“Maybe he likes her.”

“Maybe. I doubt it.”

“Why?”

You pursed your lips. Five was expecting some kind of gossip, but you had none to share. “I know her well. We’re similar.”

“So he likes her.”

Shaking your head, you insisted, “Her powers make her insufferable, Five.” And you inherited them.

Luther would always tell you to lay off her, to see things from her perspective as if she hadn’t seen you as a bad omen for years. Maybe you were, that would explain the failed romances and fizzling friendships.

As though sensing you were on the verge of sinking into the sense that you would never amount to much that you undoubtedly got from your father, Five grasped your chin between his index and his thumb, gently nudging your head up. “Look at me.”

Despite yourself, you did look up at him.

“You aren’t your mother.”

“I know,” you said, doing your damnedest to keep your voice leveled. “But it’s hard to find differences sometimes.”

He nodded along and you wondered if he ever felt similar to Reginald too. “But there are,” he said. “Many.”

You stared at him, trying to find something to say, a way to change the topic. Something shined in his eyes and you could have sworn it was brighter than the sun.

He pulled you closer, fully grabbing your face in his hand. You parted your lips, eyes still on him.

Five tilted his head to the left, rolling his lips inward to then wet them with his tongue. Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue and leaned in, feeling his breath on your skin.

To your dismay, Five didn’t take the plunge. And so you closed the gap, not capable of bearing this tension any longer. Five’s lips were warm and a little chapped as he reciprocated, moving his hand to the back of your head.

His free hand reached to grasp your waist, squeezing when you reached up to grab at him too. Five dug his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back so he could deepen the kiss by pushing himself forward.

You let him, hands gripping his shoulders as he fully held you in his arms, kiss searing and heavy. Nipping at his bottom lip, you tasted a hint of chocolate from his favorite dark roast, as bold as his kiss.

════════════════════════

That should have been it. What wrong could a kiss or two do? None, not when Five was good at hiding things from his siblings. But it didn’t stop there, you couldn’t get him out of your head or spend much of your free time away from him.

You had never seen it before, perhaps because you didn’t try, but Five was so easy to talk to and his eyes were so pretty from up close — they looked even prettier when he told you about the books he read in his spare time, like he had known no pain or suffering. You wished that had been the case, you did, you would even if you didn’t feel new emotions blossoming because of his now constant presence at your side.

It felt like you had missed out on many things. Not only was Five funny and clever, but insightful and a good listener; he liked his coffee a particular way, but could eat almost anything you put in front of him and was willing to try different things —in any sense— at any given moment.

Soon you started cooking for two and keeping his favorite wine in the fridge just in case. You got a French press to make him coffee in the afternoon and treasured the expensive tea he brought you from one of his research travels —if you could call zapping to another country traveling—.

Whilst your mother could see glimpses of the future through vague dreams and occasional visions, you only perceived a sense of danger in your premonitions, a heightened anxiety that you waited for every time you were in Five’s presence. It never manifested, only getting your hopes up.

But a bad day was enough to ruin things and you had an awful one a particular Friday. You were tired, in a bad mood after an all-nighter, and didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t want to call anybody either, not even your favorite sister. You felt awful for having a favorite sister, and even more for wanting to run away from the city and never be found.

Who would want that?

You went home directly from work and pretended your phone didn’t exist, pretended you hadn’t randomly thought about a childhood friend you thought would be with you forever, and pretended you wouldn’t give anything to share something, anything, with somebody who would be okay with not talking about it.

Everything would be okay once you got some sleep, it had to be. If only your brain would allow it. By 2 a.m. you stood in your spotless kitchen, exhausted, hopeful that sleep would surely take you in its embrace now that your feet and arms ached.

After a quick shower, you laid on the bed and turned the TV on just to have something in the background until you fell asleep.

And your luck, your stupid cursed luck, made it so the first thing you saw on your ‘keep watching’ section was a movie you saw with Five a couple days ago. Maybe you couldn’t call, but texting wouldn’t hurt — he didn’t like talking on the phone that much either way, and that way he wouldn’t be able to tell that you had such a fucked up day you were considering visiting your father just because he had a big patio where you could pretend to be a child without a care in the world again.

You decided against it. Although he was probably awake, it was too late to text him out of nowhere.

First thing in the morning, though, after a few hours of intermittent sleep, you picked up your phone to text Five only to find he had beaten you to it.

Your heart skipped a beat upon reading he had asked if you would like to come over and help him paint his room.

There was an eerie feeling on the third floor of the Academy, only aided by the lack of lightning and squeaky floors.

You struggled to balance the food you were carrying as you knocked on Five’s door. The dark stairs had been an odyssey to get through in your half-rested state, and you probably should have bought fewer things, but you were too indecisive and a little too emotional to decide between sweet and savory.

Five pulled the door open, revealing the work —or lack thereof— he had done.

“I thought you had gotten rid of the wallpaper already.”

“I tried.”

“You just scratched it, Five!”

He took the bags from your grasp, opening them to see the contents before softly placing them on his desk. “I don’t know what else to do to take it off,” he admitted. “The fabric softener with hot water didn't work.”

“You should have gotten a bottle or two of remover.”

“I did,” he said, indignant. “It doesn’t work.”

Five sounded frustrated, much like he had the last time the world was about to end, as if that bedroom was the closest thing he had to a treasured belonging.

“Why don’t we go to a hardware store?” you suggested, “someone there has to know what to do.”

He stared at you, silent. You offered your hand, he took it. Instead of leaving the room, whether by walking or zapping, Five tugged on your hand, making you let out a squeal, and brought you into his personal space.

Your eyes found his, already on your lips. You wanted him to kiss you until you were breathless, until your bones became brittle from the force of his lips against yours.

As though he had seen it on your semblance, Five dropped your hand and held your face, palm fully on your cheek as he pulled you into a kiss. His lips were warm in contrast to yours, free hand resting at the base of your neck.

You buried your fingers in his short hair and this time you were the one who deepened the kiss. Five smiled against your mouth, trapping your bottom lip between his to then graze it with his teeth.

You let him slip his tongue into your mouth and found yourself softly moaning into his senseless kiss, unsure as to what to do with your hands other than tug at his hair and grab at his shoulder.

“It’s like you’re trying to kill me,” he breathlessly said between kisses.

“Never.”

“No?”

“No-uh.” You kissed him again, hands on his cheeks as you brought him flush to you. “You’re far too interesting to be killed,” you admitted against his now softer lips, a little surprised that he had started to take more care of his skin.

Five pressed his forehead against yours, eyes lidded closed. “If I asked…” He took a deep breath, then fully opened his eyes. “If I asked for something more than occasional kisses and shared silences,” he finally spoke his mind, “would you say yes?”

You nodded, brushing your nose against his.

“Say it,” he whispered. It sounded like a plea.

You found yourself thinking that you would give him the world if he asked. “Yes, Five,” you whispered back. “I would always say yes.”

He hummed. “Now… which hardware store should we go to?”

You laughed against his lips, prompting him to kiss you again.

[foxymoxynoona]

Over the Falls Ch. 2: Bomb

Sexy Banner & bar by @borabae-gx

Summary: Jungkook sees a lot of things as a pool tech. It’s…  fine. It pays the bills between mornings on the water and evenings  rocking out with his garage-band. His favorite thing to see on the job has been Grace Birch –older but a hottie, wealthy but nice, and  unfortunately very married. At least until Grace learns what her husband  has been up to behind her back. Now that she’s free, Jungkook finds  himself wondering: what does it take for a guy like him to catch the eye of a woman like that?

Genre: Poolboy Jungkook x Rich Divorcee OC

Tags: Age gap (older woman), socioeconomic gap, Surferboy JK, drummer/guitarist/vocalist JK, Wealthy divorcee OC, househusband

CW: Mature/Explicit,  Infidelity (not between JKxOC), language, alcohol, recreational drugs, lots of explicit sex, ageist/racist/classist remarks down the road, outdoor sex, beach sex

Chapter One | Masterlist | Chapter Three

“You’re pursing your lips!” Taro called back to Jungkook. His attempts to unpurse them failed beneath his glare; he pursed them tighter, then squeezed his eyes shut accidentally while trying to relax his lips. Thinking about it all caused him to drag the rhythm and Yoongi abruptly stopped.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook scowled at Taro. “Who cares what my mouth is doing when I’m not singing?”

“I care, it doesn’t look cool.”

“Well stop looking back at me and you won’t see it. The audience is that way,” Jungkook said, pointing with his stick to the front of the garage where Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, and Corri chilled with beers on cheap folding chairs. They weren’t paying any attention to the rehearsal, certainly not to anything Jungkook’s face was doing behind the drums. 

“Yeah but–”

“No one cares what his fucking face does,” Soyoon agreed with him. “They care whether he nails that tricky rhythm.”

“Thank you–”

“If he looks like a muppet, so what?”

Jungkook’s grateful grin slid into a scowl. Soyoon smiled. 

Yoongi’s voice sounded equally as deceptively supportive as he suggested, “Maybe more like a tarsier.”

“I was thinking tree frog,” Taehyung called over. 

“You’re all fucking assholes,” Jungkook huffed and did a run on the drums as loud as he could as punishment. They were unfortunately unbothered. As unbothered as they should have been about whatever concentration face he made as he drummed. They had no idea the coordination and focus it required! 

“Don’t listen to them,” Hoseok insisted as soon as the cacophony died down. “You’re handsome no matter what face you make, that’s why they’re being like that. They’re jealous. You look so cool when you drum, you’re stealing the show.”

It was too over the top. Jungkook sighed and let his head hang as his friends got their laughs out. 

“What? What did I say?” Hoseok mumbled as Jimin patted his arm and shushed him. Hoseok was the only one of their group to say something like that and mean it sincerely, but no one could take it seriously. Alas.

“Let’s just take it from the top,” Yoongi said. “Last song of the night and I’m out.”

“Out? Why out? We’re performing this weekend,” Taro instantly argued. Jungkook saw the twitch of Yoongi’s lips, only the faintest sign he ever showed that he was annoyed.

“Yeah, so we had the extra rehearsal.”

“I just want us to do well,” Taro insisted. “This isn’t a normal performance. It’s a competition.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the snicker, “For Aughts Coverbands. It’s not that deep, Taro, you don’t have to be a bitch about my face.”

“Gee, can’t imagine why you can’t get laid lately.”

“The fuck do you know about it? I can get laid whenever I–” Jungkook sputtered. Really? She had to say that right in front of Corri?!

Soyoon sighed noisily, “We all know you want to win, we all know Junky can get laid, can we just do it already?” God he hated that nickname, if anyone besides Soyoon called him that he’d lose his shit, but somehow she’d always been able to use it as a hook to draw him back. He rolled his eyes at her, as expected, and she grinned and thumbed a line on the bass.

“Winning is fun,” Taro huffed. “I thought at least Jungkook would agree with me.”

“You’re talking shit about my face! We aren’t going to lose because of my face!”

“Only when you purse your lips like that.”

“I’m just concentrating.”

“You’re supposed to make it look effortless.”

“You wanna drum?” he asked, standing from the stool and holding the sticks out. She rolled her eyes and looked away. She’d once tried to pick it up and failed miserable, she lacked the coordination and muscle for it. And Jungkook had taken the high road and not teased her (too bad) about it. Her inability to play any instrument didn’t matter; she was a kickass lead vocalist and frontwoman, even though she sucked before any performance she deemed important. Yeah, Jungkook wanted to do well in a competition, obviously, but it wasn’t supposed to be a source of stress. They were a mostly-covers band, not some music act out to change the world. It was just supposed to be fun. Jungkook had managed to calm down the hyper-competitive streak of his younger days and wasn’t interested in getting all wrapped up in it again. 

“I’m just trying to help you get laid,” she mumbled.

“Why are you so worried whether he’s getting laid?” Taehyung asked, just as loudly as before, as if Corri hadn’t already heard all of this. Corri, one of the women uninterested in laying him despite their past lays.

“I’m not. I just think he seems frustrated.”

“Yeah because our vocalist keeps talking shit about my concentration face.”

Yoongi started to play the chorus, a not-so-subtle sign he was bored with the bickering banter. 

“Yeah I’m frustrated but not about… whatever, just play the song,” Jungkook huffed. Corri’s obvious avoidance of looking in his direction suddenly embarrassed him, when he usually could shrug off teasing no problem. He didn’t care that Corri didn’t want to fuck anymore, it wasn’t like they had been a thing, it just was embarrassing for someone you weren’t a thing with to tell you they wanted to be even less of a thing… Suddenly he wondered if Corri and Taro had been talking about him….

Before anyone (Taro) could escalate further, Soyoon scolded, “Elizabeth. Sing the damn song so I’m not late to teaching.”

Taro —real name Elizabeth– scowled in Soyoon’s direction this time and Jungkook settled back onto his stool. He flexed his fingers and cracked his neck to get ready for the final run-through of all three songs they would play at the competition: “Misery Business” by Paramore, “All Around You” by Flyleaf, and “The Real Mothers” by Screaming Females. Jungkook could have done without Flyleaf but Taro had gotten to choose the final song after a cutthroat tournament of rock-paper-scissors. Granted, Jungkook would have preferred to cover at least one male-led song, but he wasn’t going to go there. 

Instead he did his best to keep his face neutral and un-pinched as he played, his best effort to be above reproach. Yoongi was who he cared more about impressing though; Taro was a great vocalist but when it came to musical talent, Yoongi was their lead with Soyoon not far behind. The two of them wrote and composed all their original stuff and did the arrangements for their covers. The two of them could have gone pro, really, but they had their reasons for being in this hobby band, just like Taro did, just like Jungkook did. 

Fun. It was all supposed to be fun. 

Usually he liked rehearsal, but Taro was right about one tiny thing: he was frustrated. But it wasn’t about sex! Or at least not about his sex. It was about a particular video sitting on his phone that he had no fucking clue what to do about. He had hoped to ask Yoongi what he thought but then felt stupid about it as they kicked off rehearsal and there wasn’t any time afterwards. As soon as the set was done, Soyoon and Yoongi both split for their evening gigs. 

Taro’s face went through a tornado of emotions before she finally put her hands on Jungkook’s shoulders and said, “Sorry. Your face is fine. I just want us to look good but I didn’t mean to be a dick about it.”

“Whoever you have coming to the show isn’t going to fuck or not fuck you because of what my face does.”

She growled, “Come on, I apologized. Don’t be a shit.” But it was allowed. That’s how things were between them, had been for the ten years they’d known each other since their first pick up performances as teens, back when she was just Beth and not the artist known as Taro. He grinned and she pinched his cheek and that was the end of it; she and Corri disappeared with only a backward wave.

Jungkook expected to be on his own for the last bit of cleanup but Jimin and Taehyung and Hoseok shuffled around the garage helping with it. They’d done their best to waterproof the garage but after a leak had come a little too close to an amp, Jungkook was too nervous to leave anything of value on the ground ever again. He’d built a shaky wooden platform for his kit, made sure all the cables and amps were on shelves and hooks against the windowless wall, and kept the other instruments inside the house. Yoongi’s garage had been nicer and at the top of a hill but after his neighbors called the cops on them twice, they’d moved to Jungkook’s garage. His neighbors didn’t give a shit; everyone was noisy here. They usually played with the door open anyways because it got hot as fuck in there with only a couple fans and sometimes people would sit out on their porches to listen. Jimin had the great idea of adding an air conditioner but with what fucking money? Someday. Maybe with the prize money if they won the competition! The 2000s were the worst decade of music as far as Jungkook was concerned, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t win…

He felt the stirrings of ambition and squashed it.

“Paramore and Flyleaf,” he mumbled as Jimin and Taehyung sang lyrics over each other while they looped cables. 

“What’s wrong with Paramore?” Hoseok asked. “Besides that you’re too young to remember them.”

“I’m not too young. I remember “Ain’t It Fun,” that album. And I remember these songs! I like them. The drumming is good, and they’re good for Taro’s voice.”

“But… you’d rather be playing something else?”

“I just don’t like the competitions,” he admitted. “I’d rather be doing our usual set for our usual stage. No stress, no worries–”

“Yeah you don’t like it because you’re a sleeping competitive asshole,” Jimin snickered.

Jungkook looked around for anything left down as he demanded, “What does that mean, sleeping?”

“It means you want everything to think you’re chill. Surfer life, ya?” Jimin teased, making two shaka gestures. His mockery was idiotic considering he surfed almost as much as Jungkook did, although he hadn’t gone as much lately. Work. “We’ve known you too long. We know you like to crush the competition.”

“Nah, man, that’s not me anymore.”

Jimin and Taehyung shared a look. Jungkook backhanded Taehyung in the stomach because he was closest, then motioned for them to get out so he could drag the garage door closed. The clicker had been broken for a while and every time one of them tried to fix it, it just broke again. Handymen they were not despite their best efforts, Jungkook in particular. He just didn’t have the knack for it, so he was learning, that was all. Their landlord didn’t have to be such a shitbag about his attempts gone awry. If he’d just call the fucking plumber or contractor or whatever it was on time, Jungkook wouldn’t have to take matters into his own hands! Or worse, Taehyung or Jimin went after it. 

“What are we doing for dinner?” Taehyung asked as they kicked their shoes off by the back door. Jungkook ignored the question, assuming it was intended for Jimin or Hoseok, or at least not him. Briefly looking at his phone with the thought of delivery –followed by the painful reminder of his bank account– nudged his attention back to the video. The video. The one currently living in the Recently Deleted folder on his phone, chilling in limbo for 30 days until he either restored it or let his phone delete it for good. He felt no closer to making a decision on what to do with it. Forget he knew this and let it disappear? Give it to Mrs. Birch because she deserved to know she was married to an epic dipshit? 

“JK?” 

“Yeah episode four, I don’t know.”

“Huh?”

“Are we talking about what to watch?”

“What show are you even talking about?” Jimin laughed at him. “We’re talking about food! Dinner!”

“Oh. Uh…”

Taehyung snickered and nudged him with an elbow as he passed through the door, “He’s thinking about the video.”

“Grossss.”

“I’m not— I’m not thinking about the video,” Jungkook argued. It was a lie; they could tell it was a lie. He didn’t appreciate their joke of making it sound like he was thinking-thinking about it, rather than stressing about it. Stressing wasn’t his style.

“Just delete it, man,” Taehyung said. “You don’t need some guy’s nut on your phone. No offense to the gays in the room.”

“None taken, I don’t want some asshole’s nut on my phone either,” Jimin snickered.

“Yeah but….” 

Jimin, still grinning, countered, “Stop being a puss and just tell the wife what you found. She deserves to know and once she’s done being heartbroken, she’ll appreciate it,” Jimin countered. “Maybe a lot.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Jungkook deeply regretted having drunkenly shared a Mrs. Birch fantasy with Jimin just one time, which Jimin would now never ever forget.

Their “advice” was too much like teasing. It didn’t feel serious and had already put him in a bad mood when they first acted like this when he told them yesterday. Not everything was a joke. He wanted to live like that too, sure! But he had a real moral conflict here and he didn’t appreciate them making it sound like he was getting some kind of sick pleasure –either out of having a fucking porn video of that spaghetti-dick Tim or of hoping to get into Mrs. Birch’s good graces as a hero. He didn’t feel like this was heroic. He felt like a fucking creep to have taken it in the first place. He felt like it was infecting his phone. He felt like he was holding a bomb that was going to blow up a marriage and really hurt a good person. 

Not that he really knew her and whether she was a good person. For all he knew she had Nice White Lady Syndrome for “the Help” and was an entitled privileged bitch elsewhere. She’d married that fucker, after all, so she had to be like into that kind of guy and lifestyle and all that. Maybe she had her side pieces too, for all he knew! And it just wasn’t him! He didn’t want to insert himself into what could be a really sick, fucked up marriage.

“What if the dude comes after me?” he mused. He flopped down on the couch, instantly comforted by the broken-in cushion that nearly swallowed him. “He could get me fired. Sue me. Ruin my life. I dunno.”

“For exposing his cheating?” Taehyung’s face crinkled up. “Then we fuck him up.”

“He’s rich.”

Jimin tapped his chin and pointed out, “Ah, it’s true, it probably wasn’t legal for you to take that video, right?”

“Huh?”

“You filmed a guy having sex in his own house,” Jimin said. “I just mean… having the video is probably a risk. You should either pass it along or get rid of it, but only if you know the wife won’t turn on you. Rich people… you gotta be careful with them.”

“She…” Jungkook started to say she wouldn’t… but he didn’t know. He didn’t actually know her at all. And now Jimin and Taehyung were making him more scared than guilty. He couldn’t get sued. He didn’t have money! He didn’t have time for court. And his family wouldn’t be able to handle the shame. Who would watch Max when Yoojin got called into work without warning? Who would help his dad set up literally any new electronic device or go grocery shopping with his mom so she didn’t have to carry all the bags into the house because Yoojin was busy with Max and his dad worked a lot and Haewon didn’t live at home anymore? His parents needed him more than ever now, he couldn’t go to jail just because he was trying to do something “good” for a woman he didn’t even know! A thing she probably wouldn’t even appreciate!

He turned to Hoseok, hoping for some meaningful insight from him. Hoseok was a few years older and easily the most mature, experienced person in the house right now. Aside from his choice in dating Jimin, he tended to demonstrate good taste and clear judgment. Jimin and Taehyung could be hit or miss on their advice but Hoseok had a knack for people. Jungkook rebelled at their stirring of the pot, making him so nervous. He wasn’t a nervous guy. There had to be an easy, simple solution.

But Hoseok, who hadn’t said a word this whole time, nor when Jungkook first stupidly told these guys about the video two days ago, just read from his phone, “Kalasha is doing a free delivery special to celebrate the new restaurant. Chicken? Egg sandwiches?”

“Yeah, chicken!” Taehyung quickly agreed. Jungkook understood: they were done talking about this, and he sure wasn’t going to be the needy baby demanding more advice that he didn’t even appreciate. He was both relieved and annoyed. This was his mess. He had to figure this out on his own. But he could have used some good advice.

“Egg sandwich,” he said. “Is there one with chicken too? I’m gonna hit the gym later tonight and surf in the morning so I need that protein, yo!” There, Jungkook back to himself, and his friends readily accepted it. 

The crash of the waves against the shore drowned out all else. Early mornings had a cool humidity to them, leaving a cold sweaty feeling on Jungkook’s skin, his hair wild and crunchy from the salt. The warm water lapped his ankles, sand sucking out from beneath his toes as the water swirled and then retreated, only to be overrun by the next impatient wave. It was a beautiful morning to be out, perfect surf conditions, beach not yet overrun by the tourists who would flock here once they’d finished their brunch and mimosas at the nearby resort.

Jungkook shook the wet hair out of his face and closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the breeze off the water. The scent of salt and fish, sharp and pungent, was home to him. He breathed in deeply and tried to let everything else in the world sift from his mind. That was the beauty of surfing, it took all of you, for a brief time you were nothing but a fleck of energy carried by the water. That was what he liked about drumming too. He liked things that consumed him.

Surfing early in the morning had many advantages, when the tide worked out. Nice weather. Quieter beach. Fewer rookies. 

“How’s the break, bro?” Carver asked, coming up behind and slapping him on the shoulder. Jungkook saw Missy trailing further up the beach, board perched on her head. He took his eyes off Hoseok only for a second to answer,

“Yeah, bomb breaks today.” He slapped Carver’s back in return. “You’re late for dawn patrol though, eh?”

Carver rolled his eyes, “Someone couldn’t get out of bed this morning.” He jerked his thumb at Missy. Jungkook’s eyebrows raised but he said nothing, knowing he’d be awkward. Carver and Missy had been dating a year now or something like it, and for at least a year before that Carver had trailed along behind her like a lovesick dickhead while Missy didn’t have the time of day for him. Jungkook had spent many a daybreak catching waves with her but she’d seemed unbothered by any of his attempts at flirting –until suddenly one day she took a liking to Carver and now they stayed up all night fucking so she couldn’t make it to the beach on time. Jungkook hated that he knew that. He was fine that she’d never given him a chance but he was bummed to see less of two people he enjoyed. 

And also that they were just so happy together.

Fuck, he just knew too much about other people’s fuck lives without having one of his own to occupy his thoughts.

He gave a wave to Missy and headed out to the water just as Hoseok slid smoothly onto the beach. He sure didn’t let his bedmate keep him from catching those early breaks under the first streaks of light. His hair spiked and his smile glowed as he took those first heavy steps off the board and then immediately turned around to drag it back into the water a few yards behind Jungkook.

“I’ve only got time for one more,” he called, voice swallowed by the surf but Jungkook still heard and remembered he’d said that earlier, he had an earlier shift as a manager at the resort. It was a really demanding job, and he busted his ass. But he was still here! Unlike Taehyung. Jimin was practically a hodad at this point anyway so it didn’t really matter if he was here since he just distracted Hoseok anyway.

Jungkook walked until he had to glide and paddle. The sun was steadily heating up on his back but the water felt cool by comparison, drenching the thin fabric of his rash guard. He kept his eyes on the horizon where sea birds flitted and landed, and a couple fishing boats in the distance seemed to hover. Greenish fish darted beneath the shadow of his board. A shadow of a cloud passed over but otherwise the sky was clear and would no doubt be scorching later. Work was going to be hot today. He had three pools to clean, and then had promised Yoojin he’d take Max in the evening. She was being cagey as shit about why she needed the sitting, which probably meant she had a date and she knew very well how Jungkook felt about that. Yoojin’s taste in men was as shitty as her cooking. Max was the only good thing her ex had ever done in his life, and he wasn’t even still involved except for an occasional miniscule child-support check.

When he got far enough out, he straddled the board and waited as first one and then a second mushburger made him bob. Too gentle to ride. Sitting in the lull was peaceful though and gave Hoseok time to catch up. Jungkook breathed the breeze and watched his friend sit up several yards away. As the first one out, Jungkook had wave priority, but he knew Hoseok had somewhere to be.

“You want the next one?” he called.

“Nah bro, you’re first!”

“I can wait. I’m floating.”

“No no it’s fine, you first.”

“Eh…” Jungkook sighed as a totally surfable swell raised beneath them. Neither of them took it, just watched as it peeled. “Damn, would’ve been perfect.”

“Take it,” Hoseok insisted. “I can chill.”

Jungkook briefly considered it. Felt his muscles tense as another swell began to rise behind him. But being out here was soothing, and he felt tendrils dragging at his mind again that he wasn’t willing to face once he went back to shore. Out here he was nothing, nobody, just a piece of driftwood on the sea. Back on land, he had a job to do. The Birch pool was on his roster today, and he was no closer to figuring out what to do with the video in his trash folder. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back as the wave once again passed them and broke.

“Bro,” Hoseok called. “You ok?”

“What do I do about that video, man?” Jungkook sighed, shouting to be heard over the distance. “I just don’t know… I gotta face her today and what, know her husband is fucking around and that she probably doesn’t know? But damn I don’t want to be tied up in some rich person bullshit…”

Hoseok shook his head, “Yeah, you can’t get into that shit. Richies will rip you up, they don’t give a shit you were trying to do a good thing.” Of course, Hoseok saw lots of shitty rich people in his resort job. Jungkook had briefly worked there as a cabana boy too. He remembered. Oh boy, did he remember.

“Yeah but…” Jungkook sighed. They were all right. He knew they were right, and his family would give the same advice if he asked –which he wouldn’t, because he would never talk to his family about personal problems like that. They had enough of their own and he was the eldest now so it was his job to help them. 

But he also just had this painful twist in his stomach at the idea of Mrs. Birch being married to that piece of shit. Probably the fucker was going to catch something and give it to her and that’s how she’d fine out. He’d get some other chick pregnant. She’d walk in on it and be traumatized. Maybe she was secretly as shitty as the rest but if she wasn’t, didn’t she deserve to know the kind of man she married? Since apparently she hadn’t already figured it out on her own? But it wasn’t Jungkook’s job to tell her…

“I see that look,” Hoseok laughed, splashing Jungkook to get his attention. “You want to do it. That’s why I don’t like to give you advice. You just do what you’re going to do anyway.”

“The thing is, I would want to know,” Jungkook said.

“You aren’t her. You should be worried about yourself. She doesn’t care about you.”

It hurt to hear. It was true. He didn’t like to hear it but appreciated the honesty.

“I know but… otherwise what, I keep cleaning their pool and keep knowing and don’t say anything? That’s not who I am. I want to be an honest person no matter what.”

“No matter what,” Hoseok laughed. “It’s admirable but sometimes not the best.”

Jungkook let out a noisy sigh. 

And then had an idea.

“What if it’s not me that tells her?” he said, slowly turning his board after it drifted. “What if I just give her the video anonymously? Then she knows but no one knows it’s me.”

Hoseok’s face screwed up, “How would you even do that?”

“Burn a dvd. Leave it in her mailbox?”

“They probably have cameras all over the place. Or they’ll data mine the DVD or whatever…”

But Jungkook was onto something and he knew it. Fine, a USB stick, and he didn’t think it had to be that secure because he hadn’t seen anything that made him think either of the Birchs was that technically smart and they were going to have bigger things to worry about anyway, right? Like divorce. Divorce that would bring that piece of rich-ass shit to his dry, wrinkled knees.

“Nah bro, this will work!” Jungkook beamed. He felt an instant lightness swell within him that had nothing to do with the lift of another wave beneath the board. “Ya, ok, it’s a plan. Let’s get it!”

“Wait, but JK–”

“I’m taking this one!” he called, ignoring Hoseok’s concerns. There was no good path forward but this was the best one. Probably Mrs. Birch would be hurt but at least no one could trace it to him and he wouldn’t have to admit to her he’d been the one to record it and no one could sue him for what pennies he had to his name.

He caught the next wave, leaping to his feet at the lip of it as he drew in a deep, joyful breath. This was the best part. Flying. Adrenaline coursed through his body, just the right amount to make him feel like a beam of sunlight, the rough board beneath his feet the only thing left to ground him as he cut his board across clear water that sprayed in his face. No barrels big enough to pull into this morning but the drop left his heart thumping in his chest and his head spinning. Nothing beat the high of a bitchin’ ride. 

Suddenly the wave closed out, sending Jungkook tumbling into the water. The slap to his chest left him winded but he surfaced only a moment after his board bobbed, tugging his ankle by the leash. He flipped his hair back and lifted his face to the sun as he swiped the salt water from his eyes. Didn’t matter that he’d grubbed it, the ride had been excellent until then. Grubbing it was just part of the game.

With a lighter heart and a clear mind, Jungkook sloshed his way to shore to put his plan into action.

The orange envelope was on the front porch when she got home that day, tucked between the storm door and the wooden door as if the mailman had dropped it off. They often did that, even though Tim had built a big stupid UV box for packages. She couldn’t blame the mailmen for not wanting to open the lid of a heavy-looking mysterious box just to leave her latest pantry tupperware from Amazon or Tim’s Razor of the Month club or whatever, despite the insistent sign. She tried to always be the one to bring the mail in so she wouldn’t have to listen to Tim rail about packages left on the ground. He worried about that kind of thing. He thought he was the kind of person important enough for someone to send Anthrax to in the mail.

She’d grabbed the envelope on her way out to get the mail from the box, and tossed it all onto the kitchen counter since Tim was out of town and not here to gripe at her for even briefly making a mess.

“It’s unfair of me to be so critical towards him,” she scolded herself as she looked in the fridge to see what the personal chef had left her for dinner. Tim had actually been very pleasant lately. He’d finally agreed they ought to redecorate the bedroom (as long as it stayed white and gray), praised the dinner she made on a day the chef didn’t come, greeted her with daiquiris after she’d been swimming and asked her about her day as he untied the strings of her bikini. 

Look, she knew those things shuffled over a low bar when listed out of context. But the context was that he’d been working hard and stressed for a while now. The latest acquisition was so close to signing and he was sweating it but the fact he was making an effort even in the midst of that meant a lot to her. It reassured her that once they were to the other side of this period of work, things were going to even out again. Tim would go back to being a bit less of a cranky asshole. She would go back to feeling less resentful, a little more charitable about the moodswings of her hard-working husband who was doing his best to succeed in a cutthroat industry. He wanted to make a name for himself beyond what his own father had accomplished. She admired that.

While the oven preheated, she flipped through the mail, mostly junk. When she got to the envelope though, she realized it was just addressed to Mrs. Birch, no mailing address, no stamp.

Her first thought was that a friend must have dropped something off for her, only to instantly consider it would be really weird for them to address it to Mrs. Birch. None of her friends called her that. 

A client? But she never gave her personal address to anyone she worked for, there was no need for it anyway, she just had things mailed to the office space she kept.

Maybe she had forgotten something somewhere? Her license would have her name and address on it, but the salutation of Mrs. would be odd because how would the person know she was married? Unless she dropped something and they googled her? Her address was supposed to be unlisted but people had ways of searching public records.

She tore the end of the envelope open and out tumbled a CD in a jewel case. Her brow furrowed. Certainly not something she owned and left somewhere. Nothing was printed on the CD. She checked inside the envelope for any evidence of marketing material and found a folded piece of paper with a printed sentence:

Your husband is not who you think he is. He’s a fucking asshole.

Grace’s blood ran cold. 

Tim’s involved with something bad. That felt like the immediate and obvious thing. Tim worked in business and he was constantly trying to get ahead, always working upstream and feeling behind. It made sense that he might have taken what looked like help in a moment of difficulty and wound up in over his head with something. Or someone. He could be short-sighted, she’d always secretly thought that about him.

“Oh god please don’t let it be something illegal,” she murmured, hand shaking as she turned the CD over in her hand. Just how bad could it be? Extortion? Money-laundering? Murder? No. No, Tim wasn’t capable of murdering someone, what a ridiculous thought.

But dirty business, with the confidence he wouldn’t be caught….?

The fact was that in the moment, at just one sentence prompt from a mysterious source, Grace’s trust in her husband tumbled like a tower of toothpicks. Instead of debating who would be out to malign her husband, Grace fretted whether this CD was safe for her to look at, or if simply by seeing whatever was on here, she might become an accomplice. What if he’d already done things to implicate her? 

Grace was not going to prison for Tim!

Her heart pounded in her chest so painfully she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She set the CD quickly down on the counter and backed away, already contemplating whether she ought to wipe her fingerprints off. But no, no, it would make sense she opened an envelope addressed to herself. It didn’t mean she’d committed any crime–

And this didn’t mean Tim had either! She leaned against the counter and pressed her hand to her forehead.

Fuck, I’m a bad wife.

This was Tim, for fuck’s sake. He could be an asshole, the anonymous sender was right about that, but it didn’t mean he was doing anything illegal or dangerous or immoral. Probably this was some business thing, some colleague of his pissed about a move he’d made and trying to undermine him starting at home. 

…But what if it wasn’t?!

Grace’s family had been in possession of significant money for several generations. Old money. 19th century American money funded by 18th century European money. She’d been raised with warnings and stories, not paranoia but awareness that sometimes the presence of money made people think you were an easy victim. Maybe Tim wasn’t the target here, maybe she was. 

She grabbed her phone and placed a call and after only a few rings heard her father’s deep voice over the line, greeting, “Grace? What’s up, honeybell?”

“Hi Daddy, there’s a thing… it’s making me nervous so I wanted to ask…” She trailed off, realizing immediately how stupid she sounded. She should have pulled her thoughts together before calling.

“What’s the matter now? Something is what?” She could tell he was distracted over the line. Mid-day like this, he was probably out golfing, or at least at a friend’s house for the afternoon. Her dad was a creature of habit, an introvert who’d carved his safe places out over the decades they’d lived in Winnetka, Illinois. His days were predictable. 

“Sorry, Dad, I just got spooked. Someone left a weird envelope at my house with a CD and–”

“Wait, who did what now?” he interrupted. Grace felt the shudder across her shoulders at that tone in her father’s voice, even knowing it wasn’t aimed at her. He’d been casual before but pulled himself into lawyer mode in only an instant.

“I’m just being silly,” she began. That’s what her mother would say. Calling her dad, interrupting his afternoon plans, because someone left a CD on her porch and she was freaked even though she didn’t even know what was on it.

“Someone left something on your porch? What did they leave?”

“I don’t know, a CD and a printed note that says, um…” She grimaced. “It says my husband isn’t who I think he is.”

The line was silent for a moment. Grace’s father had grown to love Tim. He’d be pissed at slander aimed her husband’s direction. He’d be furious about baseless accusations.  

“You know who sent it? You know what’s on it?”

“No,” Grace said. “I called you right away.”

“Is Tim there?”

“He’s out of town.”

“All right, Grace, don’t touch a thing. Call Alan. Don’t do anything until Alan is there.”

Grace nodded as if he could see her and mused, “I don’t know whether I should call Tim. Maybe he has an idea–”

“Do not call Tim,” he interrupted. “Only Alan. Don’t talk to anyone else. He’ll bring a secure computer over to look at what’s on the CD and after that I want you to check into a hotel until this gets figured out. This person knows where you live and that your husband isn’t home–”

“So you think it’s something bad?”

“Well you do, don’t you, sweetheart? Calling me sounding like you’re having a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably overreacting–”

“No such thing with our family.”

“But it’s not like Tim is actually a bad man. The CD is probably just… I don’t know. Something stupid. Someone’s just angry at him for something…”

Grace wanted to hear her dad agree that she was overreacting. His serious response escalated her fears. She’d wanted to be talked off the ledge and instead he was calling in a SWAT team and helicopter rescue.  

“Do as I say, Grace. Call Alan now and tell me when he’s there.”

Spooked, Grace did as he said. Within thirty minutes, Alan Theodorakos stood on her doorstep straightening his cuffs and adjusting his hair in the reflection of the one-sided mirror where a window used to be in the door. One of the family’s many lawyers, Alan had worked for Grace’s parents for many years before she moved to California; now, because of proximity, he’d served as Grace’s own legal counsel any time she’d needed it, even if just to oversee her affairs with specialized attorneys such as when she’d married and when they’d bought their house. Her father was a lawyer too, of course, but financial, and he never directly handled family matters himself anyway.

“Where is the CD?” he immediately asked when Grace welcomed him in. 

“I left it on the kitchen counter.” She showed him where the jewel case lay next to the printed note and the torn envelope, her name side up. Alan took a photo of all of it and Grace felt that tremor in her stomach again. If everyone was taking this so seriously, maybe she wasn’t taking it seriously enough!

Alan had with him a laptop, just as her dad had said he would. They made only the most polite small-talk as he set it up and, with gloves, removed the CD from the case and inserted it into the tray. Grace wrapped her arms around herself and paced back and forth, afraid to look, unable to look away. 

“It’s probably nothing,” she said to herself as much as to him. “I’m probably wasting your time, it’s just some disgruntled admin assistant or something…”

Alan didn’t have anything to say to that except, “Nothing is ever a waste of my time.” Because your family pays well, he didn’t need to say. Yes she’d wanted financial independence from her family, but legal counsel was one thing she let them fund, so sue me. Except don’t, please….

“It looks like there’s a video file,” Alan said, opening the CD. The filename was automated, generic. He double-clicked to pull it up and Grace held her breath, bracing herself for something. Perhaps her imagination was running away with her –this was very impractical, yes, when she usually prided herself on being a practical person– but her dad and Alan had her fearing the worst now. Kidnapping, torture, murder. At least a secret meeting discussing some money-laundering scheme that was going to land her in court for weeks defending her oblivious innocence as Tim’s spouse. I’m sorry, your honor, I’m a fool but I’m innocent.

“Let’s see,” Alan said and hit play.

And this was how Grace wound up watching a video of her husband fucking another woman while standing next to her father’s lawyer. 

Grace’s mouth hung open. Somehow she was shocked, even when the deepest part of her brain taunted her for being so surprised. It was recent; she saw the blue flower arrangement on the kitchen counter without even needing a time stamp. She didn’t recognize the woman, but she was young and beautiful and not Grace.

“I can stop the video,” Alan murmured, reaching forward but Grace brushed his hand away. She stared, eyes glued to the screen as her heart shattered. Or her mind. Something inside of her shattered.

Every criticism, every fight, every distracted dinner and missed date and complete lack of concern for anything she cared about flew in her face now. She’d loved Tim to distraction, even when he was unfair, even when he was unkind, even when he’d been a nobody before. And now he was doing this behind her back, as if she was nothing to him! In their own home! On her own fucking kitchen counter?! 

She wanted to scream. She wanted to sob. But her upbringing trained her better than that. She turned a tight-lipped grimace to Alan and said,

“It turns out this is a private affair.” Affair. Terrible choice of words.

“Indeed,” Alan nodded. “I can provide legal counsel however you’d like to proceed.”

“For now I just need discretion…” How would she like to proceed…. Grace couldn’t fucking answer that! She still was having a hard time processing that Tim was fucking around on her. Tim! Tim, who was so focused on work and deals and dollar signs that he barely had time for her anymore, much less…. Except apparently he did!

“What would you like me to say to your father?” Alan prodded. 

Grace grimaced. There was no good answer. Her father paid Alan’s bills but he was here as her legal counsel. But if Alan gave her father a non-answer, he’d be calling her up for direct answers within minutes.

“I’ll call him,” she said, just to buy herself time. What was she going to say? It’s a private matter between Tim and I. Might as well put up a sign on the front lawn that her husband was cheating on her. And to admit that to her family! She couldn’t. There were exactly zero divorces in her family. If there had ever been infidelity, she sure didn’t know about it. A marriage was for life, and it was her job to make this marriage worked, even in the face of infidelity, especially after she’d defended this relationship so hard in the face of her family’s early concerns. God, they were going to think she was worse than an idiot!

“Very well.” Alan packed the CD back into the jewel case to leave with her, took his laptop, and bid her good day. With another offer to provide whatever help she needed, he was gone.

Grace stood alone in her kitchen and tried to make sense of this. Tim cheating. Someone filming it from within her property. Someone sending it for her to find. Some explanation she needed to give her father. A very painful conversation she needed to have with Tim without any understanding yet of what she wanted to have happen. Did she want him to grovel and apologize? Did she want the shame of being divorced and cheated on? What would her family say if she left? What would her family say if she stayed?

Grace sank down to the mat in front of the sink and tried to cry but she just felt numb. This couldn’t be real. She’d so carefully managed her life up until now. She had thought Tim was right there in the seat next to her. What was happening?!

In a brief moment of gumption, Grace called her dad and, before he could say a word, blurted out, “It turns out it’s a private matter between Tim and I. I’d rather not talk about it yet. Please don’t tell anyone else yet.” It was an impossible thing to ask, but she decided she’d try. 

A pause had her heart in her throat. She felt like so much hung in the balance: would her father defend her dignity or her marriage?

“Why don’t you and Tim come for a visit? I’d like to spend an afternoon golfing with him, man to man.”

Her marriage.

Grace said a quick goodbye before any pained sobs could escape, let her face drop to her bent knees, and tried to squeeze the tears back in. Like everything else in her life, it seemed, she failed.

The days were long this week in a way Jungkook didn’t like, but he’d picked up the extra lifeguarding hours because he needed the money. Haewon needed textbooks and that shit was expensive so he’d told her to ask him instead of their parents and then demanded to know why she wanted to be a lawyer so bad anyway. Political Science. Boring as fuck, he couldn’t believe how much money they were paying for her to be a leech. She always screeched at him when he teased her about it. He just wanted to keep her humble, that’s why he teased.

It had been hot as balls on the beach that morning and he’d been stuck near the wharf which sucked swamp ass because you had to actually do stuff: namely, chase people away when they swam too close to the pillars. Which everyone wanted to do, because there was shade, and just blowing your whistle wasn’t enough because suddenly people “couldn’t hear you” and “didn’t know the whistle meant they were doing something wrong.” So you had to drag your ass all the way over to yell at them, and then by the time you got back up to your chair, some other fucker was doing the same thing. Didn’t they look at the surf and the giant immovable objects and realize how easily the ocean could bash their puny brains out?! But if there was anything Jungkook had learned about tourists and teenagers both, it was that they had poor respect for the ocean. You had to respect the ocean. She was older and more powerful than you. Unconcerned with whether you lived or died. Sexy of her but annoying for lifeguards. 

He only had two pool cleans on his schedule today, which meant an easier afternoon before band practice tonight, so he should still have energy to fight with Taro about how they shouldn’t add more 00s rock to their regular set just because they’d managed to come in second place in that competition. The first pool was an easy job, and the second was the one he both looked forward to and dreaded the most: The Birches. 

This time last week, he’d chickened out dropping the envelope off, only to go back and do it later that day when the guilt ate at him. Now he wished he’d waited until the end of the season in two weeks so he wouldn’t have to see them again for a while; while most people kept their heated pools running year-round here, the Birches closed theirs at the end of summer so he was almost free of them. He’d never understood why. It was heated and this was southern Cali. He’d be swimming in that baby 365 days a year. 

But he’d dropped the envelope and sprinted away and today would be the first opportunity to see if the bomb he dropped had done any damage. It gave him a nervous twitch, because what if he’d done the wrong thing? What if they knew it was him? 

What if he was going to get arrested as soon as he showed up?!

Still he went, because he wasn’t someone to turn away from an unpleasant task, no matter how scary. And he needed to get paid. Maybe nobody would be there again, like last week…

The garage was closed but he glimpsed three cars through the windows after he’d parked in the driveway –Mr. Birch hated that. Well Jungkook hated douchebags who cheated on their wives. And walking further to get to the pool than he had to after lifeguarding all morning. 

The missing car was Mr. Birch’s. Jungkook felt his skin tingle but ignored it, uninterested in nerves. Instead he prepared himself to knock on the back door, per usual, so Mrs. Birch would know he was here and unfortunately not accidentally walk out in revealing clothing–

Except Mrs. Birch was in the pool. In the pool. Jungkook froze like a bank burglar just inside the pool gate as her faked-blonde head surfaced from the water. Her eyes remained closed as she pushed her hair back, water droplets spraying as she panted for breath, emphasizing her collarbones and long neck. 

Fuck. Fuck! Red alert! 

Jungkook just stared as she grabbed the edge of the pool to hold herself steady as she swiped the water from her face. She looked tired, out of breath, like she’d been swimming hard for a while, not just lounging around for a dip.

Is she the swimmer then? Jungkook didn’t find it surprising at all to learn this about her but it made him happy, like this somehow confirmed she was the good person he’d always thought she was. Of course she was the swimmer. They both loved the water. And damn did she look good doing it, even just bobbing there as she pushed her hair back from her shoulders. 

White bathing suit.

Jesus Christ, Jungkook was going to hit the deck. His brain attempted to save him without thinking through the consequences: he cleared his throat. It was rude. It was out of line. It wasn’t at all what he’d meant to do but someone had pulled the fire alarm in his head and that was the result. 

Mrs. Birch spun quickly to face him, clearly started, and gasped, “Oh! Shit!”

The fantasy that hadn’t even begun to spin yet –that she had done this on purpose for him– died in its cradle. 

“I’m so sorry, is it– are you early?” she asked. Her bare face looked at him with such surprise and alarm that he actually felt too bad to ogle her the way he wanted to. 

“Ah, um… I don’t… think so,” he mumbled. Actually he was later than usual but he didn’t want to argue with her. “I can come back later?” He couldn’t, it was already late afternoon. Well, he could. He would! If she wanted him to.

“No no, I’m sorry, let me get out of your way.” 

He watched with a semi he’d deny to his grave as she gracefully swam to the ladder and pulled herself up like a fucking centerfold. It was a one piece, he realized with no disappointment because the cutouts at the side showed smooth waist and water streamed down her bare shoulderblades and exposed back– but fuck he couldn’t tell if the tattoo was there or not, the bottom rose too high over her ass. She almost caught him staring when she turned to wrap the towel she’d set on the lounge chair, except his brain had leapt immediately to nipple patrol–

Fuck! He didn’t get a good look as his brain caught up with his stare and he immediately averted his eyes, leaving her to cover herself with the towel not under his blown-out gaze. Shit! He was around hot chicks in bathings suits all the time! Why now did his brain decide to run away….

“I completely lost track of time. Um…” She paused and then gestured to the pool with one hand as if to tell him to carry on, then fled into the house.

Jungkook just stood there for a moment. He’d never seen Mrs. Birch –or anyone for that matter– in the pool before, though legend said they used it, at least for parties sometimes. He felt a sense of pride now to know she really did, and that she looked so damn good in it. He sauntered to the edge to survey his work and felt his satisfaction grow further at the confirmation that he kept this pool in good shape. It looked great right now. He wouldn’t have to do much today, clean the filters, maybe nothing else. Now he felt bad to have chased her off. He could have done that while she kept swimming. He wouldn’t mind. 

Damn. He was going to be thinking about this for a long time.

White bathing suit, huh? 

He grabbed the outdoor trash and some gloves to get to work on the filters, in the hopes he could wrap it up quickly and she could slide right back in. But just as he was finishing up, she reappeared from the house in loose lounge clothes with her hair piled up on top of her head and a bamboo tray with his drink and snacks in her hands.

“You didn’t have to,” he called to her, “I won’t be long today. Pool looks good. Are you using it a lot lately?”

Her head tilted as she set the tray down and asked, “Yes, I’ve been out here every day lately. You can tell?”

It was mostly a lie as he shrugged, “If you’re swimming a lot, the motion sends the detritus into the filters. If no one’s swimming, it sits on top.” Detritus. Haewon had used that word a couple weeks ago and he’d latched onto it because it sounded more professional than shit.

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“Yeah?”

She glanced at the pool and he got the feeling something was bothering her. Which made sense, considering the whole bomb on her doorstep thing, now that his head had cleared enough to remember that. For a moment he thought she knew it was him and was going to ask him about it. Of course she’d figure it out, she seemed smart, or he’d missed something obvious in covering his tracks…

“Well I won’t bother you while you finish.”

“You’re not a bother,” he assured her. Her smile was small and didn’t reach her eyes as she turned to go. He reached for the drink out of obligation, because really he didn’t have anything more to do but he couldn’t just leave the things she’d brought for him sitting there. It felt unappreciative. Also it was free.

She must be hot in the long-sleeved lounge top, although the fabric was thin. The shorts rode high, showing off her thighs as she headed back towards the house. He realized she could see his reflection in the windows and squinted to look out over the pool as if he was lost in thought when she suddenly stopped walking, hand on the door. 

When she turned, arms sliding across to sort of hold herself, Jungkook felt that nervous flutter. Oh no. Busted staring at her ass. Caught. He felt like a kid again, he’d fucked up and it was time to get in trouble. He gave into the urgent need to have his hands full, so he popped open the bag of chips and shoveled a handful into his mouth as she came back.

“Hey,” she said, voice softer and less certain than he’d ever heard her before. Her whole body seemed to curl in on itself miserably, a far cry from the way she’d pushed up from the pool half an hour ago. “I just wanted to ask you– when you were here last time, did you happen to see anyone drop off something? On my front porch?”

His eyes went wide. He chomped down, accidentally getting his cheek too, and cursed as he pressed his finger to the outside of it. She just watched him and he realized with a burst of paranoia how fucking guilty he looked. He sucked at lying. He was terrible at lying, especially when he really was guilty as shit!

“Oh, um…” he fumbled, swallowing the Cheetos down and licking the residue off his finger. He licked his lips nervously, feeling like there was orange powder there too. “From back here? What package?” Playing stupid was better than outright lying, even if saying he’d seen someone else do it would probably do a better job of getting him out of the hot seat. 

She shifted her weight and chewed on the inside of her cheek, exactly where he’d just accidentally bitten on his own, and this similarity sent another wave of guilt rolling over him. He was lying to her. Fuck. Was he any better than Mr. Birch?! Shitothy Smirch? Eh, not his best work for taunting names….

“Ok, if you didn’t see anything… I just thought…” A cascade of emotions crossed her face, so raw and unpoised compared to the normally polite and neutral look she had with him, that Jungkook felt himself chipping further apart. She looked miserable, her face even redder than it had been just getting out of the pool. “Someone left an orange envelope for me,” she said. Fuck, were her eyes watering?!!? “I don’t know who but I’m trying to find out who so I can talk to them about it before–”

“It was me,” he blurted out as he suddenly realized how fucking scary this must be for her. “I left the envelope and I’m really sorry–”

He cut off as Mrs. Birch started to cry. Not quite burst into tears the way he might have expected, but she drew in a shaky breath and the tears he’d suspected managed to sneak out and she pressed her hands to her face.

The impulse to reach for her was hard to deny but he did. Obviously he couldn’t touch this woman he barely knew and whose marriage he’d just exposed as a sham. Plus he had Cheeto dust on his fingers and her clothes were light colored. He’d done enough already! It would be wrong! But it was hard to watch her upset and not comfort her.

“I’m sorry,” he said again in desperation. “I swear I’m not trying be a dick or anything, I just thought you should know.”

He saw her draw air in like strength and push her hands back through her hair, fortifying herself, before demanding with a strong expression that didn’t match the tears on her cheek, “So you filmed it and left an anonymous package on my porch?”

He pulled back, defenses instantly activated. Fuck. Had he misjudged? Had she already known? Did she not care? Fuck! All his friends had told him not to get involved but he’d wanted to be this hero and now he’d really fucked himself.

“I, uh, I thought you should know,” he stammered again. “But maybe you wouldn’t want anyone else to know? I wasn’t going to blackmail him or anything. It’s private for you so I didn’t want to blow up your spot–”

“But obviously someone knew, the person who took the video! And I didn’t know who it was until I watched the security footage and then I thought it was you but–”

“Ah I thought I had my hat on low enough…” he mumbled.

She gave him a baffled look and pointed out, “You still look and walk like yourself– but I didn’t know if I was wrong or who was filming from inside my backyard and it was just really scary…” She trailed off and suddenly sat down on the lounge chair, threatening to upend the bamboo tray. She covered her face again. She took another of those deep bracing breaths.

“Shit, I’m really sorry scared you,” he said, sinking onto the second one to face her.  “I just felt bad about it.”

“Why?! You weren’t fucking someone else in our–” She broke herself off and that spark of rage tossed him around another loop. He didn’t know her, he didn’t know her emotional processes, he didn’t know how she was handling this thing he’d opened her eyes too, and yet he felt unavoidably anchored here with her in this moment. How would he handle this in her shoes? He sure didn’t know, but he thought he’d do an even worse job of holding himself together.

“Yeah but I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought you should know your husband is a fucking piece of shit.” The words rolled out without any hesitation because he was.

But it brought Mrs. Birch up short. She looked shocked, as if she somehow hadn’t realized what the video showed, and for a moment he forgot she had just referenced it and worried she hadn’t actually watched and he’d just done exactly what he had hoped to avoid: verbally give her this news. Instead she blinked slowly at him. 

He meant to say sorry if that was too blunt but what actually came out was, “You deserve better than that.” He wasn’t actually sorry about that.

“Like you?”

“Wait, what?!” he cried, and jumped to his feet and stepped back so quickly he tripped on the lounger and fell onto his ass, tangled up in his own sandals. “No! I– what? I don’t have anything to do with this! I just–”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped this time, and covered her face again. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I just…”

He’d scraped his palm in the fall; she didn’t seem to have even noticed that he did something so fucking clownish. Everything was all fucked up right now, she was all fucked up he understood now. That’s why she seemed all over the place.  

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok. Look, I swear I don’t have any shitty motives.” He eased back onto the lounger, ignoring the burn of his hand. “I didn’t want to get involved with your personal business. I just couldn’t believe he’d do that to you and I didn’t think you’d believe me if I just told you so I… but yeah, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Her voice was barely a whisper as she lowered her hands, eyes on her knees, “I would have believed you.”

“Damn.” He stopped himself from saying more. But damn that was a bad marriage if you’d believe your poolguy that your husband was banging someone else without even providing proof. She must have already known then that she’d married an asshole. That made him both very happy (Mrs. Birch is not like him!) and very sad for her (Mrs. Birch is married to someone who doesn’t deserve her!)

Watching her struggle to compose herself was distressing. He wished she would just cry it out hard. She’d feel better and he’d feel better too. Instead it was like watching her hurt herself further trying to keep the tears locked in when they so obviously wanted to come out. 

“Who else did you show that video to?” she asked, gaze lifting to meet his. Her words sounded fiercer than her face looked, though her expression was still sort of scary. Sharp. “Or tell about… this?”

“No one,” he said, hoping a quick response would hide that it wasn’t entirely true. “Who would I tell? Why? I don’t even like knowing about it and I don’t know anyone who knows you–”

“You didn’t like upload it to the internet or– Reddit or something–”

“Fuck, no.” The goodwill he’d felt after she had said she’d have believed him evaporated and he felt as scummy as her cheating husband. “I don’t post that kind of shit anyway but even– I would never do that to you. Why would I do that–”

“I don’t know, for money, for clout, for revenge because Tim has been rude to you–”

Jungkook pushed to his feet as the heat rose in his cheeks, tingling up his neck. Apparently she’d believe him that her husband was cheating but not his own promise that he wasn’t blackmailing anyone. That she thought so lowly of him was the bullet through every last fantasy he’d harbored. No one had ever thought so badly of him as Mrs. Birch apparently did. Except maybe Mr. Birch.

“I said I wasn’t blackmailing,” Jungkook grumbled and turned to go because there was nothing else to say here.

Her hand suddenly on his arm stopped him dead in his tracks; she had leapt up and caught him quickly.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you, it’s just… you wouldn’t be the first person who realized they could use something like this against my family.”

“Your family?” He made a face, ignoring the hiccup in his chest at her fingers curled against his arm. Just as quickly she let go. “I don’t know anything about your family and I don’t care. I just wanted to let you know in case you didn’t, that’s it.”

It was like she hadn’t heard a word he said and continued, “And just think about it from my perspective. This is a private matter that I want to handle privately.”

“Well I’m not telling anyone,” he huffed, frustrated by the ongoing accusations.

“Do you still have the video? Will you delete it in front of me?”

“I already deleted it,” he said, but still fished out his phone. “You think I wanted that on my phone? It’s in my trash.”

“Yeah but will you permanently delete it? Please? I’m sorry I insulted you, I’m just… stressed right now.”

He paused, phone unlocked, showing a picture of the beach behind his apps. It softened the edge of her accusation to be reminded that the inciting incident of all of this was learning that her husband was cheating on her and the pool tech knew. That sucked. From her perspective, if he was in her shoes, he’d be hurt and distrustful too. She was just upset. 

“I get it,” he told her. “No problem, you can watch me permanently delete it.” He opened up the ‘Recently Deleted’ folder on his phone as she leaned in to look, only for his stomach to cramp as he discovered just how many deleted selfies filled the rows ahead of the video. No dick pics thank fuck but still, it was embarrassing for her to see three rows of him posing in the bathroom without a shirt –he’d been trying to get a good one for his dating profile, ok?--, and he tried to cover them subtly with his fingers as he quickly tapped the video and then ‘Permanently Delete’ before it could begin to play. Too late did he realize how close she was standing, and that she smelled like something fresh and clean and mildly floral, and that her loose top had slid down her shoulder.

She pulled away and crossed her arms and nodded as she said, “Thank you.” She must have seen the photos but didn’t give any sign of it.

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I mean for telling me, too. I know it’s… awkward. It’s easier to mind your own business when it’s something uncomfortable but I’m glad that I know now. So thank you for telling me but now please forget that you know.”

“Yeah of course, I don’t know anything. I hope you get to keep your house in the divorce and I’ll keep the pool looking great.” He meant it as a joke, kind of. He was serious about it, but he hoped the tone shift could free them both from this moment that was even beyond awkward. Sustained emotionality wore him out. Guarding the wharf was easier than this for sure.

“I don’t know what I’m doing yet,” she said with utmost seriousness, with a shake of her head as if the idea was an annoying fly buzzing in her ear.

“Uh… what? How can you not know? The guy’s cheating on you, so leave his ass and wring him dry in the divorce,” he scoffed. As if he knew all about it! But it was just such an obvious next step, he couldn’t fathom she would do anything else. Good riddance to the fuckwad!

The effect on her was immediate: her hands dropped and she leaned away and got this scowl on her face that would have been sexy as hell if she hadn’t been almost defending that guy.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple.”

“It’s not. Marriage is complicated, especially one like ours, it’s not always easy and–”

“Well he pissed on that marriage when he started fucking other people, didn’t he?”

“How dare you?” The sexiness evaporated from her glare as it hardened, as his own words caught up to him.

“Fuck, sorry, I know it’s not my business–” He held his hands up, choosing to apologize even though in his gut he wanted to say more. See? He was bad at this! He really just wanted to comfort her and instead he was fucking it up because he just couldn’t stand to hear her insist there was anything salvageable about that wad of snot.

“You’re right, it’s not. Thank you for telling me about what’s going on but that’s where your judgment ends. You don’t know anything about us or our life or–”

“You’re right, I don’t. I do know he’s a piece of shit though and that you deserve better.”

“And how many times have you been married, since you’re such an expert on marital conflict–”

“Zero times,” he answered. “But when I do get married, I sure won’t treat my wife the way that asshole treats you. You’ve been apologizing for his shit since I started cleaning your pool and I may be just the pool guy but I see all kinds of people and I know a piece of shit when I see one. Whatever you think is worth staying married to him for, you’re wrong. That’s all I know. So whatever, you can report me to my boss and I can have someone else come clean your pool now or whatever but yeah, you’re better off without him.”

“Well thank you for not leaving that sage wisdom in a cryptic package on my doorstep this time,” she snapped. 

Jungkook knew he’d gone too far. He’d stepped completely into their bullshit. He couldn’t help it! He was typically slow to erupt but good luck once he got going, and he was going now, because this was the 21st century and a woman didn’t need to stay with a fucker like that for anything! And to stand there and have her possibly saying thanks for telling me but I’m going to stay with him, I don’t mind him treating me like gum on his shoe– how was he supposed to silently endorse that! 

He was too worked up to think of anything to say back so he just said, “Yeah, you’re welcome. You deserve better.” It was a stupid thing to sound so angry saying. He’d think of something better int he shower later. 

“Why, because I give you snacks while you clean our pool? You don’t know anything about me or what kind of person I am, JK. Maybe I did deserve this.”

“No way.”

“But you don’t know!”

If he hadn’t already known it in his gut, he knew it was true now, as the anger on her face wavered and he saw, just for one brief moment, raw grief. For one moment she had that look that in the movies makes a guy take up his sword and march off to war or whatever. She looked like a vulnerable, hurting person, not some rich caricature of a human, and that was exactly why he had stepped into this so far and couldn’t even regret it even if he knew he was making an ass of himself.

Just as quickly it was mostly gone, all except a soft, downward turn of her mouth. She had color on her lips which struck Jungkook as a little strange to have put on after the pool but he supposed Mrs. Birch wanted to always be put together. It was not a helpful train of thought –I could undo her combined with but she’s so sad right now and trying to hide it, isn’t she?-- and he looked away. He didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t used to this kind of dramatic exchange. He didn’t have stamina for it. Usually if he was fighting with a woman he just let her say her peace and then she left and that was the end, there were only a few times he really got into it.

But telling Mrs. Birch she ought to divorce her husband was worth it.

“I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore,” she admitted with a deep, tired sigh. “I need to go. Thank you for bringing all of this to my attention, but please, forget everything.”

“You got it, boss,” he mumbled. It was awkward. He felt deflated now.

She wasn’t going to leave her husband. That’s what he’d just learned. And the idea that a good woman would stay with a shitty man just flooded him with despair. Romance was dead, marriage was a sham, and there was no justice. His dad had divorced his mom and there were even kids involved, so what did Mrs. Birch think made it so impossible for her? But he didn’t feel like saying that to her now. He felt like he’d just burned what minor threads had connected them, and maybe it had been necessary in order for her to know about her husband, but selfishly he wondered now if it had been worth it. If she wasn’t even going to leave him, maybe she wished Jungkook had just kept his mouth shut. Maybe he should have.

“JK, I…”

He’d never know what she was going to say because after a grimace rolled across her face, she turned and went inside. Leaving him to finish the job he was paid to do, cleaning the fucking pool.

Chapter One | Masterlist | Chapter Three

[erixyin]

Poison Running Through My Veins | Part 1

Another Eddie Munson x reader fic! I'm sorry it took so long but I had no inspiration for ages and then BOOM all of the sudden and I'm like okay guess I'm writing until midnight.

And I'm introducing my other red flag of a man, Billy Hargrove. Yes. He's alive in this okay and no I don't care about canon right now.

Summary/ Idea: Eddie sees you in school parking lot being very close with your ex. Jealousy and angst ensues.

I swear this was supposed to be a fun little idea and it just ended up turning into this. Whatever this is.

Warnings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader, using she/her pronouns, no mention of Y/N, Billy Hargrove is alive, Steve Harrington being a parent and doing damage control, jealousy, angst, pain, tension, little bit of billy hargrove x reader, violent tempers, Eddie be angry and jealous, reference to a Losing Sight of You, argument, possessive!eddie, highly jealous!eddie, crying, so much fucking angst, lmk if I've forgotten any.

Sorry if any errors, I haven't proofread it yet but when I do, I'll edit it properly.

No minors allowed please and thank you.

Words: 3332

I think that's everything :)

Please do not repost anywhere, I will be posting this on my AO3 and putting link here.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Eddie leaned against the side of his van, arms crossed and body slumped hard against the back door. He was trying his hardest not to stare, really, he was. He fidgeted with his rings. He shoved his hands in his pockets. Then crossed his arms. Looking up at the sky, looking to the rest of the parked cars in the school parking lot. He was trying to not stare.

But every time, his eyes would drag back to the same spot he had been staring at for over 15 minutes. His leg bounced as he crossed his arms again. Fighting the urge to draw attention to himself and smack his fist against the van, he shoved his hand into his back pocket to get a smoke. Cursing as his lighter refused to light. "Fucking come on you stupid piece of crap" he muttered, baring his teeth as he grimaced.

"Munson, you alright?"

He almost jumped out of his skin as Steve tapped his shoulder. Eddie swallowed his scream but mouthed 'Jesus H Christ' as he dropped the cigarette that was in his hand, reaching into his back pocket for another one. Eyes flickering back to their original location before, going back to successfully lighting his cigarette and taking a deep drag.

Steve looking at Eddie's obviously flustered state in pure confusion. "Seriously, what is up with you-" Steve followed Eddie's line of sight and let out a small "ah" before falling silent himself and putting his hands on his hips disapprovingly.

Robin coming up to the side of Steve and gagging at the smell of smoke. Then her eyes almost bulging out of her skull at the parking lot, "Holy shit! When did Billy Hargrove get out of hospital??" Instinctively she looked to Steve for answers, but when she was met with an uncomfortably loud silence, she paused.

"Long enough to be chatting up my girlfriend" Eddie spat, quickly finishing the cigarette he only lit a few minutes ago to then scrummage through his pocket for another. As soon as another one was in his hand, Robin snatched it out of his grip.

"Dude, he's not chatting her up. They just used to date" she shrugged unbothered and threw the cigarette away. Turning back to see Steve staring at her like 'why did you do that' and Eddie looking like he was torn between throwing up and killing a man.

"They used to date?!" he hissed, trying to lower his voice. He was aware that the parking lot was practically empty but still.

Steve massaged his temples, "Yeah before the Star Court Mall situation" Eddie grinded his teeth and raked his hand through his hair, wincing slightly at the pain. "Honestly though dude, you shoulda known. It was big news throughout the whole school, Dustin never told you?"

Eddie paused at that. Maybe Dustin did tell him, but he didn't listen because he didn't pay you any attention until the last year of high school. But he remembered one thing. You had definitely never brought it up. You never even mentioned Billy Hargrove. You just mentioned that you had dated someone else before Eddie and frankly, Eddie was delighted. He knew that whoever your ex had been it wasn't something you talked about much. Eddie took that as you didn't think there wasn't much to talk about. Which meant you didn't have any high expectations when it came to dating him. But you still hadn't ever brought up just who your ex was or how it had ended. And that was what was eating him up inside. Especially since he had to hear it from someone else.

He turned his attention back to you and him chatting. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he was getting so worked up over nothing. You were just chatting to him. Sure you had the brightest smile on your face when you had ran over to him, pausing in mid conversation to see a black car pull over in the school parking lot and a tall figure step out. You still had the same smile on your face when the figure had walked over to you, clearly in pain but pushing through. The same smile on your face when he returned it. The same smile when you looked to the ground as Billy winked at you, and Eddie knew you were blushing.

"Munson, you can't take Billy in a fight so don't even try it" Steve said stealing Eddie's concentration. Eddie knew it was in case you looked back and saw how upset he was. Maybe this was why you had never brought it up. He raised his eyebrow at Steve. "Trust me, I tried." Steve said shuddering as he remembered the fight that seemed like forever ago.

"She never brought him up with me" Eddie admitted. Looking at the sky, blinking quickly, running his hand through his hair again. In the however many months you two had been dating and a year of friendship beforehand, you hadn't brought it up once. Robin and Steve gave each other a look.

"It wasn't an easy relationship" Robin offered. She knew the things you had told her. But equally she couldn't let Eddie suffer like this. "She ended it and they stayed close friends" She bit her lip looking at Steve for help.

"How close?" Eddie growled as he watched you stand on your tip toe and lean into a hug with Billy fucking Hargrove. One of his hands on upper waist, lower back, the other is slightly higher up holding you firm against him and yours around his neck.

Energy and rage rattling around inside him, feeling like he was either gonna explode or faint. So, he channelled his rage and as confidently as he could, held himself tall and started walking over. Robin elbowing Steve to catch his attention and he whipped round and saw Eddie striding towards you two. Steve quickly caught u to him, practically running towards you, and clapped his hand on Eddie's back basically telling him to 'cool the fuck down'.

As they got closer Steve called out to you, "Yo man! When did you get out of hospital?" Hearing this, you quickly separated yourself from Billy. Billy didn't let go of you as quickly and let his hands linger on you for a little longer. Your heart did a weird somersault when you turned and saw Steve and Eddie walking towards you. Seeing Eddie's face, you knew it wasn't good, but you pushed those feelings down. As Billy's hand slid down your back, the small shiver that seeped through you, you know Eddie saw.

"You still fucking here Harrington?" Steve rolled his eyes. "And who are you?" Billy scoffed pulling a cigarette out from behind his ear. You inwardly sighed. You knew Billy was deliberately pissing off Eddie. You knew he knew who Eddie was.

Sending a small look to Billy you jumped in before Eddie could retort, "This is my boyfriend, Eddie Munson. You know the guy I told you about, he has a band" You smiled your brightest smile.

"Yeah Corroded Coffin, we play Metallica covers and original songs" Eddie said puffing out his chest a little. He was nothing compared to Billy, even though Billy had been in hospital for months and not near his workout gear for ages. You tentatively tried to stand near Eddie but doing so you ended up being closer to Billy. Not what you had intended.

Eddie slung his arm around you, heavy and tight and you almost toppled over at the sheer aggression of the action. Confused by Eddie's tough guy pretention, you completely missed the way Billy smirked and raised his eyebrows at Steve. Steve just looked like he wanted to really not be there. You glanced behind you seeing Robin with the rest of the kids. You could see there was a discussion going on but you couldn't obviously hear. You just knew it wasn't good with the way Max was looking at you four.

When you thought the testosterone levels were going to explode, the words ended up falling out of your mouth before you could stop them, "We have a gig on Friday, you could come if you wanted to...?" You hadn't meant it to sound like a question and you're not sure why you asked but you'd done it now.

"We? You in the band too?" Billy asked, curiousity twinkling in his eyes and the grip on your shoulder tightened.

"Yeah, the lead singer and Eddie's the guitarist" Steve said trying to quickly end the conversation. He noticed your wince in pain as Eddie's grip on you continued to tighten. Steve gave Eddie a look, but it appeared that Eddie ignored him.

"You're sleeping with the lead guitarist? You're moving up in the world, my girl" At the pet-name you froze and smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Billy was grinning, knowing full well what an absolute shit he was being. Fucking bastard.

Eddie hadn't said a word, but he didn't have to from the way his entire body tensed.

Oh shit

"Anyways. We gotta be going, rehearsal and all that." Eddie said with a tight smile, pulling you away from Billy. You stumbled backwards slightly at the sudden movement and almost fell.

"It was nice seeing you Billy" you managed to say before being dragged away for good. Steve on the other side of you in case you accidentally fell over again.

"See you around doll" You heard Billy call after you. You saw Max walk past you as he yelled, "Oi shithead! Get in the car!" with less animosity than before the Star Court Mall fire but still not with much warmth either.

It was going to be an interesting drive home...

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

The car ride home was silent. Not even turning on Metallica or Iron Maiden helped the situation. Eddie had ejected the tape and shoved it into his side door pocket mid-way through the song.

You had opened your mouth to speak but got shut down real quick, "Not now" was all Eddie said. His voice remained levelled and calm, which only scared you more.

It was only when he pulled up outside his trailer did you wish you could return to the silence.

"Billy Hargrove, huh" he started. It was phrased as a statement rather than a question, so you didn't answer. He turned to finally look at you and you could see the wildfire behind his eyes. You had never seen Eddie like this. You swallowed and slowly undid your seatbelt.

"When were you gonna tell me that your last ex-boyfriend was Billy fucking Hargrove? The biggest asshole that ever showed up to Hawkins High." Eddie locked the car doors as you tried to reach for the door handle. Oh no.

You didn't usually have big explosive fights. The last fight you had that was this big was when he had been keeping it a secret that he had been doing drug deals and meeting up with Chrissy Cunningham - when both of you knew full well, that he used to have a crush on her since middle school.

"You never asked" you shrugged your shoulders. You knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for, but it was the most straightforward one. Because it was the truth. He hadn't ever asked or pressed further about your past relationship.

"I had to find out from Steve and that was after you had run off to be all flirty with him"

That made your blood boil, "What is that supposed to mean? I wasn't being flirty, you idiot! I was happy that he was finally out of hospital. I was there at Star Court Mall too ya know!" Huffing you put your head in your hands. Completely shocked that you were even having this conversation right now.

"Oh yeah sure that's what we're calling it." He smacked the side of the driving wheel making you almost jump. Eddie talked with his hands, but he never hit things. You started feeling uneasy and trapped.

You ran your hands down your face and tried to keep yourself calm. You knew Eddie would let you out once he had calmed down a bit. You just had to get him there. "Oh my god what is going on? I love you - you absolute dumbass! I'm with you, I sleep with you, I practically almost live with you considering how much I come round to yours." You voice sounding strangled at the end. "Why are you so worked up about this?"

Looking at him exasperated you could see his eyes still blazing with unquenched fire.

Then it dawned on you.

"Are you jealous?" You looked at him as you waited for a response. When none came and he looked down at the steering wheel biting his lip, you gasped. "You are jealous! Is this what this is all about?" You relaxed into your chair your mind going hazy with both disbelief and shock. "So, cards on the table. You go and sneak off with your middle school crush for weeks on end, during which you avoid me, and I have to find you and confront you about it. But on the other hand, I'm just talking to my ex-boyfriend in a friendly way, and you fly off the handle after not even 20 minutes?!"

You waited for his response. When none came you clicked the air in front of his face annoyed. "Hello? Got nothing to say? What, did you lose your argument when you realised that you got nothing to be angry about?"

When he just looked at you, you just sunk back down into your chair. Arms crossed, annoyed and exasperated that your boyfriend was even angry about this in the first place. Gently rubbing your thumb over the part of your shoulder he had been gripping tightly during your encounter with Billy, you bit the inside of your cheek. You weren't sure what on earth you had to do to prove to Eddie that you weren't going anywhere and that he shouldn't be jealous. But from his expression and the way anger was still flowing through him, you knew your words would fall on deaf ears.

"Let me out of the car Eddie" you said. Feeling claustrophobic in the car with all this anger and negativity swirling around in front of you, you needed to in the fresh air.

"Not until you promise me you won't see him again" Eddie breathed out, staring ahead of him at the trailer door.

You looked at him thinking that he was joking. But the look on his face said that he was definitely not. Still, "you're kidding" you scoffed. He couldn't be serious. Eddie had never been like this with anyone else. He was jealous of Steve, you knew that, especially at the beginning of the relationship. But he had never said that you couldn't see him. This was ridiculous.

"Promise me" Eddie responded in a monotone voice. He still wasn't looking at you.

"Eddie, you're scaring me. Please let me out of the car" you tried again. A tremor of fear ran up your spine and you saw Eddie finally look at you. The fire behind his eyes was gone but the poison that had inflicted him with this jealousy. The poison was still there. His pupil massive, like he was on something. You could see it in the way he stared at you expressionless. Your heart rate quickening.

You've never known Eddie to be scary like this. This kind of possessiveness reminded you of home and the flashback memories started coming to the front of your mind. Your hand fumbled as you tried frantically to jiggle the door handle, but it was still locked.

Eddie grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, "Am I your replacement for him? What, we both listen to heavy rock and know about the Upside Down so you think 'yeah I can replace him with another fucking weirdo'? Were you planning on leaving me as soon as he got better?" As you shook your head repeatedly, his grip on your wrist tightened, "Now, promise me" he said each word slowly. Over punctuating each syllable.

"Eddie, please." your voice trembled with fear and pain. Where he was holding you on your wrist was aching and you could see your hand turning blue with lack of blood circulation.

You saw something flash behind his eyes and all of a sudden, his pupils returned back to regular size, and he let go of you. He unlocked the doors and stayed sat inside the car before jumping out and slamming his door shut. You shrunk back at the noise, your body taught with fear and caressing the purple bruise forming around your wrist from how tightly Eddie had been holding you.

You slowly got out of the car, legs wobbling slightly. Closing the door slowly, you leaned against the cool metal of the van. Breathing deeply, you sighed at the fight that had just unfolded. Your head was swimming with thoughts. Why was Eddie so jealous of Billy? Was he this jealous of Steve when he was first introduced to the gang? None of what he said he meant right? You could provide no answers to the questions swirling inside your mind. But you heard footsteps, so you straightened up, ready in case Eddie wanted a round 2.

You felt yourself be pulled into a gentle hug. Your nose breathing in his scent slowly. Still trying to keep your breathing steady so that you didn't start crying. "I'm so sorry for how I was with you then. I just got so angry" Your face buried into his hair so you could barely hear what he was saying over the sound of your mind and your heartbeat. "My dad used to lose his temper like that with me, I guess I lived up to the Munson name." You knew he was trying to apologise and make a joke out of it, but it felt like he was excusing his behaviour to genetics. You made a small 'hmm' noise in response and the hug became slightly tighter

You pulled away first. "I'm gonna go home. I need to be on my own for a bit" you murmured. Refusing to look him in the eye, because you were still terrified, you'd see the poison still there and also because you knew if you looked at him, you would definitely lose all control of your emotions and weep.

"I'll call you?" He offered. You simply nodded. Your vocal cords tired after the short but explosive fight. He'd let you walk to your trailer across the trailer park by yourself. He knew he had overstepped the line and he knew that you needed space. He sighed. "I've really fucked this up" he pinched the bridge of his nose and walk walked into his trailer when you began walking away.

As you made your way passed Max's trailer you stopped to pet one of your neighbours' dogs. The silly good boy wagged his tail and whined, putting his paw up against the fence. "I'm fine, I promise" you managed a small smile when you reached through the fence to scratch his ears. A couple of small tears escaped through the quick blinking of your eyes. You used your other hand to wipe them away, pausing when you saw the bruise on your wrist develop fully.

The doggy whined and sniffed at your hand before licking your fingers softly. "Thanks for making me feel a bit better" you let out a soft laugh at the feeling. "You're a good boy" you said, and the doggy woofed in response, clearly pleased.

"And here's me thinking you'd only call me that"

You turned around too quickly, almost losing your footing, but a large hand caught you by the waist in time. You recognised the voice and the hand simultaneously.

"Hi billy"

================================================

if you liked this please like, comment, follow and reblog for more. This is going to end up being more chapters because I have so many ideas of where I want this to go. Hope you enjoyed!

[iheartbbws2]

Notice Me

Harry Wells x Reader

Warnings/summary: some cursing, talk of readers harsh past, mostly funny(?) and awkward flirting

A/N: I don’t even know what this is, but I used to have the biggest crush on Harry

~~~~

"Is he always that sexy, or is this a new thing?", you asked, causing the rest of team Flash to stare at you.

You were talking about Harrison Wells, the newer, bitchier one from Earth-2 and he had just left out, mad about something probably.

New to team flash, everyone was still getting used to your bluntness, and your inability to bite your tongue.

When everyone just stares at you with your mouth dropped, you finally break the silence, "What? He's cute."

"He looks like the man who killed Ronnie, Eddie, and Barry's mother. Plus he's like, at least twice your age.", Caitlin responds, her face scrunched up like she can't believe what you're saying.

"Well first off, he didn't do any of that because he's a different version of Wells, and second, I have the tendency to be attracted to older men because of the lack of love and attention I got from my own father as a child, but thank you so much for bringing up my daddy issues.", you laugh at the look on her face, kind of feeling bad about bringing up the awkward situation with you and your abusive dad.

Barry clears his throat, trying to get off that subject, "Y/N and Harry are two adults, and if they'd like two date, who are we to-"

"Woah woah woah, all I did was call the guy cute, I'm not tryna date him.", you cut him off, unaware of how it got that far.

"Yeah well still, you're grown, do what you want.", Iris says, flashing her signature smile.

You wink back at her, before turning back to the team, "Umm, you guys wouldn't happen to know, where he is or anything would you?", you say with a sheepish smile.

"He's in my lab", Cisco says and he barely has time to finish as you walk out of the door.

"Hey! Don't fuck in my lab!", he calls after you, regretting telling you where Harry was.

When you make it to Cisco's lab, you walk in on Harry throwing something around. The usual.

"Something got you upset?", you call out making him jump slightly.

"Oh! Y/N, hello. Yes, it's this equation but I'm fine."

"Yes you are.", you mutter under your breath, causing Harry to turn around.

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing.", you respond in a sing-song voice.

He turns back towards the dry erase board, focused and unbothered by your presence.

You pretend to be interested in the stuff on Cisco's desks, making your way up to the older man.

When you grow quiet, he assumes that you've left the room, but when he turns around to check, you're right there in his face.

"Hi."

His eyebrows raise at the close proximity, but he doesn't back away, "...hi"

"I'm gonna come right out and say it", you start, raising one of your arms to wrap around his neck, the other following shortly, "I think you're sexy, Harry."

His eyebrows raise at your forwardness, looking at the arms that are wrapped around his neck and then back at you.

"Thank you?"

There's a beat of silence as you wait for him to return the compliment but when he doesn't, you pull your arms away asking, "What about me?

"What about you?"

Scoffing slightly, you say "Don't you think I'm pretty?"

He thinks it over, "I've had more important things on my mind if I'm honest," you can't help but feel offended, "but now that you bring it up, you are quite attractive."

You smile at his confession, knowing that's the closest thing you'll get to a compliment from him.

Unbeknownst to you, the team has been watching the entire interaction through the cameras.

“Ten bucks says Y/N traps him in less than a week.”, Iris says and Cisco immediately objects.

“Harry’s far too oblivious to date anyone.”

“Well lucky for him, the most forward person we know happens to be interested in him.”

[pervysenpaix]

Blind Date| Monkey D. Luffy X BlackFem!Reader

Hey besties, this is a collaboration with my love @xogabbiexo. This is a mini series that will include blind date oneshots with characters for various animes. The warning is a blanket statement that covers all the oneshots, I won't be doing all this with just one character, lol. I hope you enjoy.

WARNING (18+) | NSFW Content, may include:

Aged up characters

Foul language

Sexual or Implied sexual acts

Fingering (vaginal/anal)

Oral Sex

Vaginal Sex

Anal Sex

Degrading/Praise

Bondage

Spitting

Nipple Play

Threesome

Throat Fucking

Breath Play

Sensory Deprivation

Foot fetish

dacryphillia

somnophillia

I do not own these animes or any characters from the anime. I do not own any images used, all artwork was obtained from google. If you know the artist, feel free to tag them. Do not steal my ideas.

©pervysenpaix 2021

"This isn't what I was expecting" you muttered to yourself as you walked towards the marina.

Nami told you that Luffy was well off and liked to spend his free time at the ocean so, when your GPS led you towards the beach you figured that the two of you would be having some beach picnic. Well butter me and call me a biscuit because you were dead wrong.

Dozens of luxury sailboats were lined up, bobbing peacefully on the water while the seagulls flew overhead singing their nautical tunes. It was a magical view, only made better by the waving man standing at the edge of the dock.

"Hi there! You must be (y/n) ?" He shouted, grinning widely as he beckoned you over. This man was HOT. Super tall with tan skin and a great smile; a small scar rested beneath his eye but it worked for him in a sexy pirate kind of way. His outfit was simple, sandals, jean shorts, a straw hat and a red shirt that was unbuttoned, exposing his abs and a nasty looking scar. You'd have to ask about it later.

"Hello!" you replied, shuffling quickly towards the waiting man. It was hard to hide your excitement, you could already tell that this was gonna an interesting experience and you didn't even know what the man had planned yet. "Yeah, that's me and you must Luff-ahhh!" your wedge got caught over a bundle of rope, causing you to trip and crash into the handsome stranger. The impact should've made him fall back but he didn't budge. He just looked down at you with a playful smirk on his face as he held you by your waist.

"Falling for me already, darling ?" Luffy drawled, flexing the long fingers that were splayed against your back. "I'm so sorry !" you giggled, "I'm such a clutz!". It was true, you're a ditzy little bimbo, always stumbling or tripping into something. Then laughing hysterically when you landed flat on your face. No shame. Everyone often said that you had a great sense of humor, that's why Nami set the two of you up. She thought that your personalities would compliment eachother. "It's okay. How could I complain when I ended up with such a pretty girl in my arms ?"

Smooth talker, huh ?

"Oh? You think I'm pretty, big guy?" you teased, placing your hand against his forearm. Dude was ripped. Literally muscles everywhere. And, his hands were so big and pretty, you just wanted him to cho-

"How could I not think you're pretty? Did you not check the mirror when you left the house this morning? You look amazing , (y/n)!" You weren't expecting him to keep complimenting you, you'd have any other guy blushing right now but he was completely unbothered. Actually, he was the one making you flustered. "Oh - i- uhh, thank you ?" you laughed, stepping out of his firm grasp. He chuckled, resting one hand on his hip as he regarded you. "Oh, so you can try and tease me but get shy when I respond? That's cute, sailor."

Sir, please stop complimenting me. I will suck your dick.

"Sailor?" you repeat, brow raised and held tilted to the side. So cute, Luffy thought as he eyed your figure. You'd definitely exceeded his expectations, that sundress was the perfect color for your complexion and it hugged you in all the right places; he also liked the way you styled your natural hair. Stunning. Gorgeous from head to to toe and that cute little laugh was captivating. Don't even get him started on the way you squeaked his name when you tripped, he couldn't wait to hear what other sounds you could make. "That's right, pretty girl. Welcome aboard the Thousand Sunny and I'll be your captain Monkey D. Luffy"

***

"Wow, this is amazing. I've never been on a boat before." you exclaimed as you looked around. It was a pretty big and it's impressive that he was able to set sail and everything by himself. Now the two of you were drifting, about 1/3 of a mile from the coast, and enjoying the picnic he had prepared. "Aww, I'm your first? That's cute, sailor."

Luffy has been casually flirting with you nonstop. It's not even on purpose, he just says whatever comes to his mind and you like it. If you try to tease or flirt back, he doesn't even bat an eyelash, just continues on as if you've known eachother forever.

"So ..." you clear your throat, trying to rid your mind of the innuendos formed from Luffy's latest retort. "This is really nice. What do you do? I mean, I expected you to be well off but, this is some billionaire bachelor type of shit". You laugh and the sound stirs up butterflies in Luffy's stomach, making him smile too. Yeah, he could brush off your cute little attempts at flirting off but that didn't mean he wasn't interested. He was awestruck by you, you were so live and bubbly and beautiful. And that voice, you had to be a siren in another life, maybe even Calypso because that mesmerizing sound could bring, even, the strongest men to their knees. Good thing he liked a challenge.

"I'm the rubber man !" He said proudly as he bit into an apple.

The rub- what ?

"Come again?" you ask politely, you didn't want to risk offending him but you had no clue what he was referencing. That sounds like a phrase from an anime or something.

Luffy laughed and took another big bite, "that's what I called myself. I own a condom company, One Piece." Oh, so now it was clicking. What a cornball. "How clever" you snort, which brings out another enthusiastic grin from the man, "So I've been told."

The date progressed nicely. You intended to spend only 30 minutes to an hour , but the conversation flowed so well that you ended up spending the whole day at sea.

"This was so nice. The best date I've been on", your eyes were closed and your head was thrown back as you soaked in the sun with your legs rested in Luffy's lap. "Awesome, I'll make sure or next one is even better. I'm gonna be the King of Dates!" he smirked, as he massaged your feet between his rough, calloused hands (lmao @xogabbiexo).

"Oh ?" you questioned playfully, "Bold of you to assume that we're having another date, Captain". That was the first time your words seemed to affect him, a slight blush covered his cheeks and nose. Does someone like power play? Luffy recovered quickly, chuckling deeply and biting his lip. Oh to be that lip. "Oh you can count on it, sailor. I've already decided." he winked, running his and along your calf. You raised up on you elbows to look at him properly, he looked absolutely sinful with the breeze whipping his shirt back and the slight sheen that dusted his abs from the salty spray of the water. His hat was slightly tilted forward, covering one eye, making him look even hotter if that's possible. "What else have you decided, Captain ?"

***

"Right there ! Luff- ahh, right there !" you moaned, rolling your hips against his face as you pulled on his shaggy hair. "Here?" he whispered, hot breathe fanning over your clit and sending trickles of pleasure to your core.

Luffy's tongue circled your clit, flicking and pressing at the bud as he thrust two fingers inside your wet pussy. Slick coated his cheek and chin and he'd occasionally wipe his face and stuff his fingers in your mouth.

"Did you not hear me, Sailor? This is your captain speaking." he teased, pulling his fingers from your fluttering hole just moment before your climax. You whined, at the emptiness and it was met with a sharp smack on your pussy. " Ahh! Luffy, whyy-" you mewled, back arching in pleasure even though you wanted to pretend you didn't like it. "Because I felt like it" he shrugged indifferently, "Plus that's captain to you, sailor. One more slip up and I'll send you below deck. And, I've been told it's kind of hard to breathe down there". Holy mother of balls.

"Sir, yes sir" you whined, "please touch me, sir. It felt so good." His thick digits slid back into your drenched cunt, curling up against your sweet spot. "You like that, Sailor ?" he murmured, lapping at the slick dripping down your thigh. "Mmph~ yes sir. So good, gonna cum. Fuck~ ahh! Can I come, sir ?" you whined. Luffy grunted in approval and sucked your clit into his mouth. His fat tongue worked you over wonderfully, swirling around your sensitive bud and then lapping at the slick folds. You loved it when his tongue would join your fingers, slipping inside your core.

"Cum for me, sailor. That's an order."

His name. All you could say was his name as the shockwaves of pleasure traveled through you. Luffy egged you on, moaning at the way your cunt pulse against your tongue. He was drunk off your sweet nectar and couldn't wait for his next meal.

After all, he loves to eat.

This was for you bb @kaizokuluv, I hope you enjoyed 🥺

Check out at @xogabbiexo for her parts. I believe she's doing Gojo first 🌚

Nasty Girls| @plussizeficchick, @gabzlovesu, @dejwrites, @xogabbiexo, @xosuki, @presidentmonica, @indiecursor, @angwritez, @arielspoem, @thicksimpx

[tommyspeakycap]

Hi :) I was wondering if you’d be open to writing something about Tommy and baby Shelby going to see Alfie. With season 5 Alfie trying to hide his scars because he thinks she’d be scared but she just cuddles into him. I get if this is weird or too specific😅

Protected

“Remember what we talked about eh?” Tommy says to his youngest sibling as he tugs open the door on her side of the car. (y/n) Shelby takes her brothers outstretched hand to help her jump down out of the car that was a little too high up for her to manage to climb out by herself. “Yes Tommy.” She responds, skipping off in front of him to the big heavy front door of the building they were going into. The little girl leans against the door to very little avail as it barely even budges until Tommy reaches the door too and pushes it open with one strong arm.

He steps very firmly in front of (y/n) in the lobby of the building to prevent her running off again, and crouches down to her height with both hands placed firmly on her small upper arms to hold her still. “You stay right next to me okay?” He repeats, “And stay quiet yeah? I’ll try and be as quick as i can.” (y/n) smiles in response, “And then we can go to the sweet shop?”

Tommy nods and gives his little sister a soft smile before he stands up straight and takes her hand tightly in his. His littlest sister is so fearless and unaware of the dangers of the life she was dropped into that it always gives Tommy a sense of relief in some ways. It was almost like a form of escapism. Bouncing between Polly, John, Arthur, Charlie, and Tommy had made her life very different from most, even from Tommy’s young son. It would be incredibly safe to say that it was a shock when Polly Gray had entered into the betting shop in Watery Lane holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket. They were all incredibly confused and very soon learned that Arthur Shelby Senior had shown up on the doorstep with another child he wasn’t interested in raising. She was an accidental one who’s mother died in childbirth and the deadbeat father had been gifted with yet another little life to let down.

Of course it became very important for Tommy that the baby girl did not experience the same kind of sheer let down that their father had given to all of them. He named sweet little (y/n) on that evening 6 and a half years ago. He felt like he was completely aimless and useless at that time. He had decided not to go after Grace and that lost love was weird for him after finally having it. Then that beautiful, quiet, warm and sweet little girl was placed into his arms and held tightly onto his finger and suddenly, his world and his love seemed to hold new meaning.

She was his muse, his greatest love and his favourite little sidekick.

“Tommy fuckin’ Shelby.” Alfie rumbles out, his back to the door as he faces out his balcony. “That’s a bad word, Tommy.” (y/n) chides in a whisper as she looks up cautiously at her elder brother. Tommy offers her small hand a gentle squeeze and nods his head, but promptly turns his head back to the man holding a gun at the window. “And you’ve brought your mini protégé, i see.”

Alfie turns half of his face, only his good half, to see the sweet little wave from the youngest Shelby sibling. “Alfie, this is my sister; (y/n).” Tommy introduces, hoping his willingness to divulge his sisters name would move Alfie away from the subject as quickly as possible so that they could talk about what he was really there to talk about and then he could take his sister and go quickly. He didn’t like her having to be involved in these things, he always feared it would bring her into the line of fire. “Mhm,” Alfie grumbles, “Last time i saw you, you was only about this big-” He gestures with his hand only a few feet off the floor, “Couldn’t speak much, either.” The Londoner adds, eyes slightly narrowed. The 6 year old tilts her head to the side.

“I can speak a lot now, Mister Solomons.” She says, somewhat proudly. The burly man laughs, not his usual sinister or mocking way. “I can see that.” He hums in response, eyes moving from the little girl to Tommy when he clears his throat heavily to draw attention back to him. “If we could, Alfie, I’d like to talk business.” Alfie nods his head in response, gesturing with his hand to the couch across the room. Tommy let’s go of his sisters hand to sit down on the couch, the little girl doing her best to climb up beside him with only a little help from her brother. Alfie sits on the chair across from them. Tommy knows there had to be significant damage to the side of the man’s face after the injury he sustained from the bullet fired out of Thomas’s gun. There was almost no way he escaped that unscathed.

“I’m going to kill a facist, Alfie. And i need some men.”

The words from Tommy prompt Alfie to rather abruptly turn his head, somewhat shocked by the words, but more shocked by the fact the 6 year old little girl was completely unbothered by the words her brother had spoken. The pre-school aged girl simply continues fiddling with the pocket watch Tommy gave to her. She looks to be dismantling it with a very distinctive focus that reminds Alfie she is a Shelby, and she might fully be aware of how to kill him already.

“A facist ey?” Alfie repeats, his eyebrows raised. “Politics got to you, Thomas?” Tommy rolls his eyes and lights a cigarette. “I need some men.” Tommy adds, making Alfie scoff. “Oh you do, do you? And you want mine?”

Tommy merely nods his head.

In his discussion with the head of the Peaky Blinders, Alfie had not forgotten the presence of the 6 year old on the couch, but it had fallen away from the forefront focus of his mind as he debated the thought of lending men to a Shelby’s cause. In doing so, he turned his head in thought and a little noise of awe left the youngest Shelby. Tommy and Alfie both direct their attention straight to her.

The little girl scoots herself off the couch and Tommy reaches for her arm, but just misses. She trods right up to the huge London gangster and tilts her head. “What happened?” She asks softly. Alfie shifts uncomfortably on the couch he sits on, running his finger absentmindedly over the scarring of his face. “Got shot.” Alfie responds, Tommy clears his throat heavily and almost awkwardly in knowing he was the one who had given Alfie Solomons his facial scarring. (y/n) tilts her little head in awe as she clambers up onto the couch next to him.

“Looks cool.” She mutters in awe.

Most look at him in some kind of shock or horror even. Some with sympathy thinking it had come from the war and some with fear knowing where it had really come from. But few with the kindness and curiosity of the 6 year old standing on his good couch.

“Does it hurt?” She asks quietly. Alfie shrugs.

“Depends.”

That’s when her little hand reaches forward to trace over the scarring with an almost feather light child’s touch as she stands there on the couch, her hands are cold and gentle over the markings that no one has touched since his last hospital appointment.

“Her mother’s daughter.”

Alfie flicks his eyes back over to a now standing Thomas as he reaches forward to lift his sister up into his arms where she sits on his hip with little furrowed eyebrows and a purse on her lips. Alfie’s residual aching cheekbone pain has faded to nearly non-existent for the first time he can soberly remember. He knows that Tommy knows this by the look in his eyes and the way in which he notes his prior statement before he gathered his sister.

“She’s sweet.” Alfie nods, standing to his feet. As softened as both men may be by the child in the room, Alfie does not like sitting as Tommy Shelby towers over him whether the man is an ally or not. “Polly says i get it from Tommy.” (y/n) chimes. Alfie raises his eyebrows with a grin that makes Tommy roll his eyes at the retired gangster. “Oh do you now?” Alfie hums, opening his mouth to speak again when Tommy cuts him off. “You go ahead to the car (y/n), eh? I’ll meet you down there in just a minute okay?”

The six year old nods and runs off the moment her feet hit the ground. Tommy turns to Alfie immediately.

“If you ever-“

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mister Mom.” Alfie rumbles, crossing his arms over his chest with a beaming grin. “Little miss Shelby has you whipped, mate. Tell me, what’s your favourite apron you wear at home eh Thomas?” He chuckles heartily, making Tommy glower in rage at his teasing. “I’m fucking serious, Alfie.” He growls. Alfie straightens up and stops laughing immediately.

His eyes narrow for a split second and he tilts his head, his eyes searching the depth of Tommy’s cerulean blues and immediately noticing the sheer panic and worry that lies deep within them, attempting to hide under brotherly protective instinct and rage at the prospect of harm falling on his little sister. Alfie inhales deeply. He would truly never dream of harming a child. It’s not in his nature, nor does it sit well with him. And though he had been quick to give the head of the Peaky Blinders a reality check in the past regarding the safety of his son, in the end he had no idea Charlie Shelby had been taken and he never would have arranged for that to happen.

Alfie nods his head and leans forward. “She’s special to you, yeah?” Tommy doesn’t know why Alfie asks. He’s sure it’s clearer than he wants it to be, but alas the Londoner asks anyway and Tommy doesn’t know exactly how to answer, so he simply makes a motion something akin to a nod though looks more like a twitch of his chin. “Mhm, I can tell. You can have the men. I’m sure you know the price.” Alfie turns away. Tommy doesn’t know what it was in Alfie’s eyes that reassured him more than words ever could that he wouldn’t lay harm on the 6 year old little girl who treated him with more respect and kindness in the ten minutes she spoke to him that anyone had in years. There was an element of brotherly protectiveness that Alfie felt only after knowing her a short time.

“And Tommy?”

“Yes, Alfie?” The Birmingham MP turns back as he leaves the doorway of Alfie’s sitting room.

“Anything ever happens to the kid, you fuckin’ let me know yeah?”

Tommy nods his head, the ghost of a smile somewhat on his face. His little sister is just about as protected as they come, and there was a distinct feeling of certainty that Alfie Solomons was there, lurking in the shadows of existence with a familial fondness of the little Shelby girl who carries the glow of an angel above her head that would ensure no men, from Birmingham or further afield would have to go through every Solomons and Shelby loyal man up and down the country before a hair on (y/n) Shelby’s head was messed. Tommy holds hope somewhere deep in his heart that his little sister will never have to see violence aimed at her, and that for as long as she lives she knows that she is instantaneously loved, dearly held in every heart and ferociously protected by some of Britain’s most dangerous men.

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

Was Baz actually a bully during the Watford years? Or was he just a posh jerk?

Listen, i've been reading old meta about these series these past days and I can't believe the amount of people that actually believe he was an actual bully like, based on what??

I mean, he absolutely comes from an elitist and conservative family, and that absolutely influenced his worldview during his childhood and early adolescence (quite predictably, hard to see what's outside of your bubble when you're not allowed to at that age). (Adding the actual safety that elitism provides him, as in he wouldn't be as shielded from being outed as a vampire if he wasn't a Pitch, and that it was impossible for kid-Baz to go against whatever the great Natasha Pitch believed in. Even when the conservatism of it all hurts him! Even when he thought his dead mom would want him dead, he still believed she was in the right!! But anyway, it's only after he breaks free from that bubble that he starts to grow as his own person, as a better person, cuz no way you can throw someone as soft hearted and who cares about others into the real world and have him remain a conservative elitist prick)

Being a bully and being a jerk are not the same thing, even if you're a real fucking jerk. Most of these characters are jerks in one way or another, to be quite honest (except Shephard, bless his heart) but the reason there's this perception of Baz, I assume, it's 1) because of the stereotype that he was supposedly casted in and 2) because Simon says he's a bully. The series it's all about calling bullshit to stereotypes so I'm not touching 1. And 2, Simon calling him a bully honestly doesn't mean shit.

A bully, at the very least, has actual victims. At the very least, they create an atmosphere of anxiety and fear. And who the fuck it's actually afraid of Baz in Watford, other than rats and whatever animals they have in the forest? (Actual question, I'm going by memory here). Nothing could more clearly point out how unbothered the student body is about Baz that Simon trying to tell others that he's a vampire and... being laughed off. If someone was being victimized by the dude and they were told "listen, he's actually a dangerous dark creature of the night, we could get the bitch kicked out, free ourselves" the general reaction would not be "Simon what the fuck are you smoking my guy". Agatha "I'm sick and tired of being a Damsel and in danger" wanted to go after Baz. And yeah, I know this was her trying out a rebellion phase by going by the Dark and Misterious Bad Boy(tm), see if that helped her figure out herself, but I honestly don't think she would have been fucking around in the dark waiting for him or wtv she was doing in CO if she seriously thought he would actually hurt or victimize her, as a bully would do. Baz might have had The Vibe, but there was likely the safety of deep down knowing it's just superficial, y'know (ik she later goes he's an Evil vampire!!! when trying to get Simon out of Baz's house for no real reason, which honestly rude, and my point still stands)

And it needs to be extremely clear that Simon and Baz were equals. Even when they were being dumb boys having stupid little fights they took awfully seriously (collateral of an actual war going on) they were still equals. Hell, Baz went out of his way to make sure they were equals, given that he has super-strength, enough to snap a human body like a toothpick, and Simon still tells us that he never even pushed him harder that he could push back. Yes, Baz could be mean and ruthless with his words, and he definitely hurt Simon, but Simon was never his victim. Simon was never afraid of Baz. And Simon definitely hurted Baz as well. Maybe he wasn't as cutting as Baz could be with words (likely the entire reason Simon even called him a bully, the whole "having advantage at being good with words, even to be a little bitch") but he was always good with his fists. He broke his damn nose ffs! (being the whole reason it's permanently crooked iirc)

Even the incident with Phillipa doesn't count (which I think was handled very well in the third book, so I won't get into it) cuz she was never a target, she was unfortunate collateral damage, and an unfortunate victim of Fiona, who was the adult who fully understood what she was doing, and I sustain was the actual responsible here (even if Baz was still wrong for fucking with dangerous things he didn't fully understand) (can't find the quote, but Penny said it best when she talked to Baz about this, they were really just boys being used as pawns by adults in dangerous situations they didn't even fully comprehend, not until actual damage was done here) (pretty fucked up of Fiona to even think of hurting Simon, a kid, that way, and to ask her nephew, another kid, to do it for her. Honestly believe she didn't really give a fuck about the kid who actually got hurt too, and only came around cuz she does love Baz and doesn't want to lose him)

So anyway, I'm not trying to be an apologist or whatever (these characters being flawed and having moments of being jerks or even dickheads it's compelling, honestly). All I'm saying is that Baz might have been a posh prick, and a jerk, and an asshole, and whatever synonyms we can think off, and he definitely had to unlearn quite a few questionable things but... was he actually ever a bully? I honestly don't think so. In fact, if we look at the picture of Baz being wealthy, attractive, smart, part of the football team, among the top of the class... it's actually likely that the general view other students had of him was more positive than negative, especially since he didn't have a reason to lash out at random people like he did with Simon and his friends (and he's not someone who actually wants to hurt others! He's always holding back even in actual fights!). And let's face it, hot rich ppl can get away with more shit in the general perception, so this would probably still apply even if he was generally an ass.

[saigonharrington]

Movies - Steve Harrington fanfic

word count: 2,3k category: fluff/angst warnings: cursing, crying

and a couple of old movies' references

i'm actually scared how quicky I wrote it and how emotional i was during some of the moments. enjoy! and don't forget to reblog as it helps me grow ♥ -> want to request something? <--> have an idea for the next superache fanfic? <-

—���———

Working at Family Video quickly became a boring, mundane task for Steve. The only things excluded from the routine were his conversations with Robin. As the days flew by, they felt like they overshared a lot and created way too many weird games to keep themselves busy. But Steve had something, or rather someone else in his mind that made him busy. He started to space out a lot since the first day he saw you at his workplace. To say he was head over heels with you was an understatement. The boy became obsessed quickly, hearing how you talked to yourself while picking movies.

He either was too stunned to speak around you or said the most stupid things ever, only embarassing himself again and again.

"Hey Dingus, whatcha doin?" Robin approached him while he was trying to sort films on the shelves. "Your girl hasn't been here in ages, when do you think she's gonna come?"

"That's not my girl" He replied confused and afraid that you might ener the door right now and hear everything.

"Well it's the only girl beside me that you talk to lately. Where did your womanizer attitude go? All the girls from the Hawkins are waiting. Oh wait, half of them has already reject you."

"Hey! That was rude. I'm just too busy for dates. I have things to do, I have a job, kids that need to be taken care of. You know, usual stuff."

"I think there's still space for a girlfriend. You just need to think before you start opening that stupid mouth of yours."

"Thank's for the advice Robin. I'm obviously gonna listen to you becouse you are the romance expert and have a girlf... oh wait. You don't"

"Don't come at me! I just want to help. What do we know about... what's her name again?

"Y/N. Isn't it beautiful? I swear I haven't heard of anyone with that name from here. She's extraordinary."

"Yeah yeah okay. Let's start with simple things that we can figure out. What genre of movies is she into?"

Steve was a little embarassed, but he went to the counter and pulled out a little piece of paper. "I actually keep a list of the movies she rented..."

"You psycho! That's a bit too much of an obsession. Cute, but also TOO MUCH. So, what did she watch lately?" Robin seemed to change her attitude every ten seconds, but she wanted to be the best wing(wo)man to her best friend. Robin took the list and started analysing it.

"Y/N movies list:

"Grease" "Annie Hall" "Harold and Maude" "Breakfast at Tiffany's" "The shop around the corner" "His girl Friday" "Roman holiday" "What's up, Doc?"

"I've been meaning to watch them but it's so hard to watch every single one..." Steve felt the urge to explain himself as the Robin kept staring at the list

"Your girl slash not your girl is a cheesy romantic comedies enjoyer. I think you're fucked up, you're never gonna meet her expectations. Girl has standards, that's what she has. Well, good luck."

"I know, I'm trying. I enjoyed some of them. But every time I try to reference them and compliment her choices it feels like I'm making fun of her and the films. What's wrong with me?"

"That's a whole different story, dingus. Oh look! Here she comes! Alone! It's your time to shine." Robin patted Steve's arm and took a couple of casettes from the shelf to try to look busy and unbothered by your incoming. "Steve, go to her. Recommend her something." She whispered, making sure you can't hear it.

"I'm going. I'm gone, yeah yeah."

"You need to actually move. Do you want me to push you and force you to talk to her? It's going to look awkward. Here I go, your last chance before I'm gonna embarass you."

"Fine, I'm going."

Steve approached you quietly without saying anything. He tried to rehearse his speech in his head, but your silent soliloquy made it hard for him to focus.

"Looking for a romance?" He asked semi-confidently while leaning onto the shelf that moved under his weight. You looked at him confused, frowning, and trying to decipher what he wanted to say. "Shit. I mean, the movie genre. Something with secret pen pals or kissing in the rain?" He added, trying to impress you. "Not today. I came for something different. I think I need something animated."

"Oh, cute. For a date or what?" The words came out of his mouth way too quickly. He stared at you in silence, afraid that you might confirm his predictions."

"Yeah kinda." He almost puked. "If you count babysitting as a date." You smiled at him.

"Don't tell me more! I have been a babysitter once, I mean, more than once, almost every day since... nevermind, you came here to get a movie and I started oversharing out of nowhere."

"No, it's nice. You can talk." You calmed him down by patting his arm. "I'm actually surprised you can tell more than mumble three words. Guess I misjudged you. By the way, I must ask you: Are you making fun of me?"

"What?! No!" He almost screamed "Why do you think so?"

"Every time I come here I hear snarky comments about my movie choices. Is something wrong with me? You referenced couple of them minutes ago, so I assume you've seen them."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. They were not supposed to sound like that, these films are great. I just get a little stressed around you and it's a weird uncommon feeling that I have never felt before and that's why I'm babbling whatever comes to my mind. Actually, nothing comes here because my mind is a blank space but anyway I do like these movies I think I saw Roman Holiday more than once and..."

"Stop talking," You looked at his badge to note his name. "Steve. I'm quite happy to meet another romance movies enjoyer. People say that it's cheesy but I consider them realistic. I'd love to hear your opinion. Which should I borrow the next time I come here?"

"I think you saw every romantic comedy that we have here. But I'd love to debate with you tomorrow evening, maybe by the milkshake...?" He scratched his head waiting for your reaction.

"Have you been stalking me, Steve? How can you tell what have I watched?" You made a pause. "But I'd love to meet you tomorrow, since today I'm babysitting. So, see you?" Steve nodded his head, pulling off the best smile that he could.

"Thanks for coming to Family Video, glad that we could help you."

And that's how it all started.

From one date to another, you immediately fell in love with him, thinking of him as a perfect match. The relationship was still fresh, you were in 'the honeymoon phase' enjoying every minute with each other, watching your favorite movies, and imagining yourselves as the characters. Today was your one-month relationship anniversary and everything has been planned out perfectly. You were supposed to go to an amusement park dressed up as Danny and Sandy, but Steve was late.

You were preparing yourself for hours, only to find yourself waiting at the bench near your house. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours. You wanted to be patient, and understanding. You even romanticised this moment, thinking that maybe he's stuck at workplace desperately wanting to get out and see you, or he finished late and is preparing himself now. The thought of him doing his hair while humming the grease soundtrack and cursing every lock of hair that wasn't cooperating with him and his hair gel was making you smile through the tears. But he wasn't coming and you've grown too tired and resigned to try justifying his absence.

You came home after three hours of waiting, careful not to be seen by your parents. The last thing you wanted is for them to see you cry, especially after the boy they adored.

After shutting your door you fell on your bed, not changing your clothes or wiping the make-up that you have worked on for so long. You just didn't have the energy to do that.

You fell asleep almost immediately, trying to erase the events from the day. But in the middle of the night, you heard your door opening and someone entering through. "Y/N I'm so sorry I'm that late. I know we were supposed to go to that amusement park but I got stopped by Nancy and you know that crazy Vecna shit is happening and we had some stuff to figure out... are you awake? What's with the face? Why do you look like that?"

"I don't know, why do you think my face is looking like that? Maybe because I waited for you for like 4 hours and you never came? So I decided to cry myself to sleep? Have you thought of that? Or maybe I realised that everything is wrong! Why didn't you tell me that you have things to do! That you were too busy to spend some time with me on our anniversary?"

"Y/N please calm down. I said I'm sorry. I want to make it up to you. Let's take care of you and wash that pretty face. You need to hear me out before jumping into conclusions."

"What did I misunderstand that time? I know weird things are happening in Hawkins, I'm not a baby, Steve. Why do you always exclude me from this narrative? Why can't I get involved?" You cried while wiping your face because of arguing and because wiping things off mixed with tears was hurting you.

"It's dangerous, Y/N. I don't want you to get hurt. It's not the best time to explain everything."

"When's the time? Don't play the 'overprotective' card right now! Love's nothing like the movies! I thought I would be giggling and shit but you left me all by myself. Don't you think that it's dangerous for you too? Or for Nancy?! Seems that you two can manage but I'm the damsel in distress? I should have known. I should have known, Steve."

"What do you mean by that? What do you imply? Is it bad now that I want you to be safe? Don't be ridiculous."

"No! You don't be! Can't you see what it looks like? Open your eyes, Steve. For the last seven days, you have always abandoned me for the sake of solving 'the Vecna thing'. But why's it always you and Nancy? Nancy! Your ex-girlfriend who you seem not to be over with. For fuck's sake, leave me alone. Just say that you got bored of me and go. I'll understand. I'm no longer a movie enjoyer."

"I love you Y/N! I want to protect you, I'm sorry I didn't understand what it looks like from your point of view. You can get involved. I want you there if that's what you want. I didn't get bored of you, I'd never do that. It's not always me and Nancy, the kids are there, Robin is there, and you can be there too. I'm so so sorry. I'll never do that again." He touched your arm to calm you down. Seeing that you didn't walk away he hugged you and continued his monologue. "I'm a terrible boyfriend. But isn't it just like the movies? The climax point where everything gets so intense and the main characters are arguing or having some kind of problem to solve? Life is like the movies. Maybe not always romantic comedies, but we're obviously something with a happy end. Danny and Sandy ended up together after all, didn't they? I love you like the movies. Crazy, obsessed like I meet you for the first time every day. You're the smell of the strawberry milkshake that we shared on the first day. The rain surprising us when riding a Vespa. The paper and the pen that we used to pretend that we were secret writing pals. We literally live our movie lives. And it's perfect. The clouds will fade away after today, and I'm gonna make it up to you starting from now. Don't cry, darling. You said you consider romantic movies realistic. Isn't it like that now? We're facing the hardship to get our happily ever after. Think about that. Think how far we came. Let's not waste that. I don't wanna waste that. Do you?"

"Steve you're messing with my head. I don't know. I don't want to break up with you, but the truth is you're my first boyfriend and I don't know how to feel. I don't want to be treated like that. I don't want to be forgotten. I don't want to be excluded from your friends' group. Please talk to me about everything."

"I will, I will, I'm sorry. Don't cry anymore, I don't want to see you like this. Let's go to sleep and talk in the morning. Is your dad home? I hope he won't kill me for sleeping here. But I don't want to leave you again. I will stay. Do you want to take a walk? Or sing you to sleep?

My huckleberry friend Moon river and me"

Steve hummed the song from Breakfast at Tiffany's "I want to kiss away the tears from your face. Please forgive me."

"You talk a lot. And you're very annoying. It's hard to say no to you when you're cupping my face with your hands. My parents are away, they were supposed to leave at night to drive to my grandma's."

"I'm very lucky tonight, damn. And hey, at least I'm not mumbling three words to you. Let's go to sleep. I love you I love you I love you. My little girlfriend from the movies.

[spacedlexi]

i always wondered if you ever read any violentine/twg fanfiction and if you have could you tell us your favorites? Or what tropes would you like to read? Idk I just really like this ship and since there was so little content I could find so i read a lot of shit 💀 but I hold a special care for it since it was one of the first fandoms I entered and finding out Clem was bi meant a lot to me cause you don't see a lot of bi representation that isn't like "I like fucking anything that moves🤩(Yea Im looking at you Elite)”.

So yeah I'd like to hear you thought of fanfiction and stuff.

i tried once or twice but didnt get farther than the first chapter or so on the few i tried 😔 i kinda for the most part stopped reading fic after high school to be fair, so im very particular about what i Do read when it comes to fic now. and on ao3 at least since im afraid of wattpad there really hasnt been anything that held my attention (at least in the past. like i said i havent tried looking in a couple years so who knows). i need plot/character development heavy stuff that i can really sink my teeth into and i didnt really find much of that... and the "tropes" i like are more determined by which characters im applying them to so i dont always like the same ones across the board

someone asked me this question a while ago and i asked for any fic recs at the time but i only got like.. one? im really not sure what the state of twdg fic is like honestly

DESPITE all that tho im still slowly slowly SLOWLY meticulously steadily working on my own oneshot that i WILL FINISH I SWEAR its over 20 pages currently and only like 2/3? done?? and half edited BUT it IS outlined so..... i just have to.. you know..... actually Finish it....

i posted some snippets from it a while ago (HERE) but here's a couple longer ones since ive written about 10 more pages (plus like 5 in outlines) since then. im Really particular about the flow of my writing which is like.. the main reason why i take so long to write.. gotta fix it until it Feels Right

A comfortable silence seemed to settle over them then. The wind outside the shack still blew harshly, whistling against the broken windows. But as the girls sat by the warm glow of the fire, and listened to the crackling of the burning logs, it was enough to melt their tension. At least a bit.

The silence continued until the fire began to dwindle with the last of the logs. "We're going to have to start burning those..." Clementine said as she looked at the loose boards they had kicked aside earlier.

"I got it," Violet said as she stood, not even giving Clementine a chance to move. As she grabbed a board and kicked hard at its center, trying to break it in two, Clementine twisted her mouth. Not at the other girl, but at herself. She was still getting used to her new limitations, and it frustrated her knowing there were just certain things that she couldn't or struggled to do now.

The boards had been sturdy once, but due to age and exposure, they had eroded enough that Violet was able to break them with relative ease. She threw a couple of the pieces on the fire and set the rest by the hearth as she returned to where she had been at Clementine's side. She gave her a soft, reassuring smile as the fire came back to life, and Clementine gave a soft smile in return, breaking her from her thoughts, if only momentarily.

She heaved a sigh as her eyes were drawn back to the missing portion of her left leg. She thought about the trek awaiting them in the morning, and her mouth twisted again. "Ugh, walking through all of that snow is gonna fuck up my leg..."

The soft smile on Violet's face became mischievous. "Don't worry, I can just carry you instead." She said it nonchalantly, but the fluttering in her chest betrayed her.

Clementine quirked her eyebrow in response to the bold statement, smiling skeptically as she laughed "Uh, aha, yeah right."

"What, don't think I can?" Violet responded, the look on her face unbothered by the other girls reaction. "Brody was the one who carried you to the school after you crashed and I'm, like, at least as strong as Brody was."

Clementine's face dropped at the revelation. "Wait-... Brody brought us back?"

"Uh..." Violet hesitated at the change in Clementine's voice. "Yeah... Her and Marlon. She was the only one he would ever take outside the safe zone." She explained, and as an aside to herself said "Huh, guess it makes sense now..."

The playful atmosphere had now quickly disappeared, only to be replaced with a quiet, somber one. In the short time Clementine had to get to know Brody, she felt they had started to become friends. However, there weren’t many good memories made between them, and so Clementine more easily remembered the bad ones.

She could still remember that stormy night in the cellar clearly, could remember the sounds of Brody's inhuman screeching. The hot blood on her hands as she fought against the turned girl for her life. The guilt sinking in her chest like a black hole as she looked over what she had done. What she had to do. Clementine mourned her in the way she mourned everyone else she had lost. And it never got any easier.

Violet watched Clementine as she internally fought through her feelings, and once again regretted her words. She didn't want to think about Brody, either. And felt guilty over unintentionally bringing those awful memories to the surface. Clementine told them what Marlon had done that night, yet never talked about what happened after. But Violet had helped the others with the bodies, had seen what Clementine was forced to do. She remembered the sight clearly, as clearly as she remembered feeling that Marlon got what he deserved.

--

"Maybe we should try to get some sleep before it gets cold in here..." Clementine suggested tentatively.

Violet shifted, stretching her arms out in front of her, catching the last of the heat from the hearth on her fingers. "We should use the bed, then. It'll at least be better than the floor. Plus, there's a blanket."

Violet stood up then, stretching her legs as Clementine looked up at her. "Are you sure that thing isn't completely rotted?"

"It should be okay. We only brought it in here a little over a year ago."

"'We'? Why?"

"Uh-" Violet started at that, averting her eyes. "Um... Minnie and I... we kinda... used to hang out here..."

"Oh..." Clementine wasn't sure what to say to that, but it did confirm her suspicions. So instead, she relented. "Okay."

But she hesitated, looking between her leg and her prosthetic where it still sat propped against the side of the fireplace. "Hmm..." Should she put it back on? The bed wasn't far...

"Here," Violet reached her hand out, noticing the hesitation, "let me help you."

Clementine eyed the outstretched hand, considering her options, and once again twisted her mouth at her new limitations. She kind of hated this. She had done everything on her own for so long, and now...

"C'mon, it's okay."

She looked back and forth between Violet's face and outstretched hand a few times before finally relenting. "...Fine." She really didn't want to lace up her prosthetic just to immediately take it off again.

Clementine took her hand, and Violet helped pull her up to stand. They leaned close as she found her balance, gripping tightly at Violet's shoulder with her free hand. It only took a short moment, and once Clementine stabled herself, her eyes locked with Violet's. They both started a bit when they noticed how close they had become, face to face.

"Aha. Um, you good?" Violet asked, slightly flushed.

"Yeah," Clementine said, hiding her blush better than the other girl. "Thanks."