#hes my best friend everyone should love him

[chuluoyi]

✎ the babysitters' club

- gojo satoru x reader

in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!

genre: total crack, first years are trying their best to babysit your son to save their grades, an attempt at humor, gojo is irritating as always, fluff, fluff, fluff

note: this is sooo incredibly silly :') some inspiration are taken from the baby starfish onesie, this ask, and this illustration -> if you're wondering how gojo dressed his baby, he's looks just like that :)) tagging @3zae-zae3 <3

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"Gojo-sensei... what is that wiggling starfish!?"

On one sunny day in jujutsu school... trouble is once again brewing in the form of Gojo Satoru bringing his baby son to the class.

"Starfish? No, no," Gojo retorted with a displeased expression, directing his gaze towards Yuji and clicking his tongue as he patted his squirming baby, which was still hidden from their view. "He's my pride and joy! Don't refer to him as starfish!"

"But you've got him dressed up as one..." Nobara pointed out, her tone flat and unimpressed.

"That's his kid," Megumi provided, wearily sighing. God, he knew already today was going to be a long day.

No one from school had seen your seven-month old baby son yet, and Gojo was determined to make it an occasion to remember.

Beaming with pride, he gently removed his baby from the starfish-themed onesie, revealing him in a tiny black jujutsu outfit specially tailored for him, complete with miniature black glasses. He held him up, presenting him for everyone to see.

"Behold, everyone... my son! Isn't he just adorable?!"

. . . a momentary silence before—

"Oh my goodness, he is!" Nobara cooed, forgetting her earlier sentiment, immediately approaching the baby with shining eyes. "Sensei, how could you manage to have a baby this cute!?"

"Heh! Only the finest technique utilized to create him—"

"Complete bullshit—"

"Hush, Megumi! No cussing in front of my baby! I'll deduct your marks!"

"Seriously...?"

"Now, class, today I have a very, very important task for you..." Gojo said, his voice dripping with mischief as he sported a broad grin. "If you succeed, I'll personally draft a recommendation letter for each of you to Yaga. But if you don't..." he paused for the suspense, scanning his three students' curious faces.

"Then I'm failing you in my class!" Gojo continued with a grin, prompting immediate reactions from his students.

“What! Why?!”

“That's not fair!”

“Sigh.”

“All you have to do was to watch over him until I come back. Everything you need is here— in this bag!”

Megumi rolled his eyes. Nobara raised an eyebrow. Only Yuji who seemed to be genuinely interested.

"Isn't that easy?" Gojo tilted his head playfully, looking absolutely stupid with his blindfold. "There are three of you here. If you can't even manage to look after one baby, then you should not even think about romance and dating."

"Nonsen—"

"Quiet, Megumi!"

And so began the day's mission: looking after Baby Gojo until his father's return.

“Lalala~ look you’re flying!”

“Fwa...”

“Kugisaki, don’t hold him like that! You’re making him cry!”

“No, I’m not— Itadori! Don’t smush his face—!”

“WAAA!”

“You idiot!” Megumi hissed, plucking the poor baby from his clueless friends and immediately soothed him, pulling him close and patting his back. He even gently shushed him, “There, there...”

And Yuji and Nobara could only look at him in awe as the baby's wails turned into soft sniffles, peaceful in his embrace.

"Whoa... Fushiguro, so babies like you, huh..."

"Unfair!" Nobara clicked his tongue, before fixing a wide smile and waved at the baby in Megumi's arms. "Hi baby~ don't you want to held by big sister—"

"He doesn't like you, Kugisaki."

And so, that was how the three of them spent half the day—constantly watching over Baby Gojo, with Megumi supervising both the baby and his two friends.

"Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in him..." Megumi grumbled sullenly, resigned to his fate, his gaze fixed on the crawling baby while he sat on the floor and threw his little sunglasses.

For all the sighs he exuded, Megumi undeniably had a soft spot for the baby. Prior today, he had held him several times, and he'd never admit it, but he'd protect him to the best of his ability, if anything, because you had done so much for him.

“Gojo-sensei is cool!” Yuji remarked. “Of course Y/N-sensei is happy with him.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Only you would say that.”

"Hey, don't you think he wants his milk?" Yuji suddenly pointed out, as the baby became fussy. Megumi nodded and Yuji immediately reached for the bag Gojo left. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to his friend, but in the process, he accidentally knocked the bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

"Ahh, my bad," the boy sighed, collecting the diapers and washcloth, until he realized that there were some more—

"What's that? Photographs?" Nobara picked one of them up, and immediately gasped. "Oh my! Look at this!"

On the picture was the same baby, but much more smaller and swaddled in baby blue blanket and tiny blue beanie. Most likely taken when he was a newborn.

"Whoa, wait, there's something written behind the photo..."

When she flipped it over, both she and Yuji studied the messy handwriting, instantly recognizing it as their teacher's.

Yaaay! ♡ Baby is here! I'm sooo happy you made it! But mama went through a lot to bring you here... so don't ever forget that she loves you very, very much, okay?

"This is sweet." Nobara looked at the picture with a genuine smile, until she realized that there were some more scattered on the floor.

The other picture was of the blue-eyed baby on his arms and knees, wrapped in an orange and black bee onesie, complete with little wings, and behind it was written:

Aren't you just the cutest bee?! And what's more, you've started crawling! Aw, papa is so proud! In no time at all, you're going to be as strong as me!

"What are you two doing over there?" Megumi asked, still feeding the baby with the milk bottle. Nobara beckoned him over.

The third photo was of you smiling so prettily while holding your baby, still in his bee suit, and Gojo also in the frame, wrapping his arm around you, clearly the one holding the camera to take the selfie.

Two my most precious treasures ♡ Sweetheart, I love you. And baby too!

Yuji smiled, as he felt warmth spreading in his chest. "Gojo-sensei really treasures his family, huh?"

"He is," Megumi agreed, because he had seen it all throughout his life.

"Well, no wonder..." Nobara giggled. "Any woman showered with this much love would be happy."

And that day, the trio also uncovered another side of their teacher, that his deepest affection was reserved exclusively for his wife and child.

Well, the sentimental feeling didn't last long though...

"This is our chance!" Nobara said in a hushed whisper. "When else are we going to get an extra family discount!?"

Megumi was so ready to burst a blood vessel as he held the baby—given that he had forbidden his two friends to lay a finger on him. "We are meeting Gojo-sensei here, not to—!"

"Hush! Itadori, don't you agree with me?!"

Yuji nudged his cross friend, trying to appease him. "Lighten up, Fushiguro! We can have more meat!"

At the last minute, Gojo suddenly told the three of them to bring his baby and meet him at the shopping center as he didn't want to waste energy to go back to the school. And like broke students Nobara and Yuji were, they decided to use Baby Gojo to snag an extra plate in a yakiniku place.

Megumi's eyes twitched. "This is not making sense at all, they won't believe—!"

"Shut up, you! Waiter~ here! We have a baby! So we're eligible for the family package!"

The judging stare of the waiter was enough to make Megumi combust on the spot, and yet somehow he passed the four of them as family eligible for the extra plate.

It was later, after they had their lunch that Megumi suddenly had an upset stomach and left the baby momentarily in his two friends' care.

And under less-than-watchful eyes...

"Hey, Kugisaki, meat on this side is the juiciest! Try it!"

"Ooh, you're right!"

The baby only blinked at them in wonder as he stayed in his spot. Not for long though... and it didn't help that they forgot his existence after they went to the cashier and headed out.

"Oi, Itadori! Don't forget to split the bill!"

"Oh yeah! Anyway, why is Fushiguro taking so long?"

Megumi got back right afterwards, and he frowned. "You done already? I haven't even gotten my ocha refill—" and it dawned to him when he saw both Yuji and Nobara with empty hands.

"Wait... where's the baby?"

"—! Oh my god!"

And when the three of them rushed back to the yakiniku place and approached their table earlier, Nobara almost screamed at the empty chairs, "He is gone!"

"You left the baby with the kids and told them to come here?!"

You were positively fuming as you scolded your stupid husband in the bustling mall.

"Well, we haven't gotten much time to spend together, just the two of us!" Satoru retorted, his tone sulky as he pouted. "And besides, Megumi is there. I'm sure they'll do just fine~"

You let out a sigh. True enough, being parents is no joke. Aside from stay-at-home dates, the frequency of the two of you going out had dwindled exponentially since having your baby.

"Technically, you are still on the clock though." You threw him a glare. "You're being a very irresponsible teacher."

Satoru smirked. "Heh, spare me. But I'm being a very good teacher to you in our—"

"One more word and I'm locking you out—!"

Just as you were about to give him your (empty) threat, the building suddenly boomed with an announcement from the mall's broadcast speaker.

"Attention, shoppers. We've received a report from three teenagers that they've lost a baby. He is seven-month old, wears black shirt, has white hair and blue eyes. He is last seen at Yakiniku Q—"

"Satoru..." your voice trembled, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. The baby described by the speaker was unmistakably your son, and the realization of him being missing sent you spiraling into panic.

"Hey, calm down." Satoru gripped your hand tightly, his voice steady as he faced you. "We're going to find him, alright? I'm here. Don't worry."

And after taking off his glasses, in a matter of seconds, Satoru figured out where he was.

Nobara's eyes welled up with tears, frustrated. "What do I do, Gojo-sensei will fail us now..." she muttered, biting her lip.

"That's what you're worried about?" Megumi replied, turning to her with a clear glare.

"He's going to be fine! He is!" Yuji interjected, trying to reassure his two friends despite his own rising anxiety. "He’s not just any random baby—who knows, maybe he can shoot cursed energy to protect himself!"

Megumi and Nobara leveled their annoyed stares on him and Yuji immediately regretted his attempt to lighten the mood.

"I still think he can't get far from the yakiniku place." Megumi was too panicked to check with the staff earlier and just went with Yuji's suggestion to report it to be announced, but now that he thought about it— "I think we should go back."

And thank goodness the three of them returned for the second time because, this time, they finally saw the baby safely cradled in your arms, with Gojo speaking to the waitresses nearby.

"Oh?! Gojo-sensei is here!"

But as soon as the three of them came into view, Gojo immediately fixed them with his unamused gaze.

"You three..." his voice was lower and it made the three kids shudder. "What did I tell you about failing this mission, huh?"

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi were visibly spooked, immediately bowing their heads in unison as they chorused—

"Gojo-sensei, we're so sorry!"

Nobara then pointed an accusing finger at Yuji. "But it was his fault! He kept eating away and didn't even oversee the baby anymore!"

"Wha!?" Yuji glared back at her. "No! You too! You kept eating my meat too!"

"Whatever it is, I'm not a part of this—" Megumi cut in boldly. "My stomach hurt so I had to go for a bit, and they couldn't even keep an eye on him—"

You soothed your squirming son as the first years were throwing blame at each other. Gaping in confusion, you couldn't help but wonder how such a simple task had turned into this incident.

"Tsk." Gojo crossed his arms dramatically, and you knew he was just messing with them, as he suddenly turned to you with a grin.

"Nah, as both a teacher and the victim's mother— Sensei~ who do you think is responsible for this? Or should I punish all three of them?"

The three kids before you were quaking in their boots, and you really didn't have time for this right now. Honestly, if if you had to quickly pinpoint the source of this chaos...

You directed your most irked glare at your husband. "You."

“Huh?!”

“You’re the one staging this by threatening their grades, and it results in our baby being missing!”

Now you were bickering with your husband and putting him in his rightful place. Nobara and Yuji gaped, while Megumi heaved a sigh of relief.

"Does this mean... our grades are saved?"

Epilogue

"They said he fell..." You pat your baby's head worriedly as he babbled happily in his crib, your expression darkening into a frown.

You didn't really blame the first years for their lack of experience, but as his mother, the news from the restaurant staff that they had found your son falling from the chair made you extremely uneasy.

Seeing your distress, Satoru’s natural response was to comfort you until you were back to smiles again. He gently tickled his boy's tummy, prompting him to squeal in absolute joy. "Look, he's perfectly fine. You don't need to worry so much, yeah?"

"But it's strange... I'm happy he's fine, but how? Most babies will get hurt or at least be inconsolable after falling. But he was totally okay..."

Satoru shifted his gaze to his son, as now his round, crystal blue eyes that mirrored his blinked back at him with such innocence and trust that even melted his heart.

"Ah, I see." Suddenly he smiled as if he had figured something out. "This is just my guess, but you know my guesses have like... 90% of probability of being correct—"

"Hmm...?"

"He might have activated Infinity by instinct. Heh."

[luveline]

i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE

thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader

The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 

The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 

“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 

“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 

He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 

“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 

He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 

Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 

“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 

“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 

You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 

“You got me a cake?” 

“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 

“Will you sing?” he asks. 

He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 

You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 

“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.

It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 

He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 

You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 

Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“What?” he asks. “For what?” 

“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 

“The candles are perfect.” 

You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 

Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 

“Good choice, handsome.”

His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.

[radiance1]

"I need to find my darling husband!" Said Danny, dressed to the nines in a very elaborate royal dress with a lot of jewelry running through the ballroom after having been on the opposite end of a very worrying phone call.

"Seriously, what do you even see in that mortal!?" Screamed an observant and Danny stopped and leveled them with a glare cold enough to freeze over an active volcano and sharp enough to cut through obsidian.

"He makes me laugh."

Unlike those dead suitors went unsaid, but everyone at the ball (read: search for a bride/groom for the royal ghostling) practically heard it anyways.

Meanwhile over in the land of the living

Okay so Jason may have messed up. Now you see, he hasn't seen his platonic husband for tax benefits in a while, and he's been very careful to not let his identity as the Red Hood slip up before . Not even once in their relationship.

(He's not counting the time his in-laws sniffed him out as a Crime Lord, because Danny never believed them.)

Now, it wasn't exactly his fault he slipped up. You try to fight off an entire group after being pulled up on out of nowhere on the phone while trying to hide said noises of fighting.

Who was he calling? Danny of course since he said he was away for business. What business? Never specified and Jason wasn't going to pry.

So now here he was, bound 'helplessly' as Jason Todd along with a few other random civilians. Which, like, rude.

Wasn't he already good enough for this ancient ritual or whatever?

You know, he really should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device" he got that one time. Which honestly he feels like he should be surprised that such a thing exists but considering it was from Bruce. Well.

He's not surprised.

Oh, there's the Justice League now. Shame, he wanted to knock out a few guys himself- Oh, now he's being used to summon a ghost from the Infinite Realms of Royal Lineage.

Yea he probably should have walked with that "Anti-kidnapping device."

Wait a goddamn-

Is that-

"My darling husband!" Danny shouted, scooping him off the circle and away from the head cultist and swinging him around. "You had me worried sick!"

Now, he should ask the question anyone would in this situation when finding out your best friend and platonic husband for tax benefits was apparently a ghost of royal lineage.

"Why're you in a dress?"

"Okay, first of all I rock this thing." Danny huffed.

"That you do." Jason agreed rather easily.

"Second of all, blame those guys over there." He jerked his head in the direction of two very green floating eyeball people.

Not the weirdest he's seen, honestly.

The Observants were whispering to each other and leveling them-Jason in particular-a look.

"Now as you can see, I already have a spouse and I don't need another!" Danny hugged Jason closer for emphasis and he took the time to whisper in Danny's ear. "Did you really marry me to play the husband card?"

"Well, yes." Danny agreed. "But also because of taxes, because I love you and you're my best friend."

"So, we're still done for watching that movie right."

"Obviously."

A pained grunt came from below them and they both looked down to see Batman standing over a very unconscious cultist and looking up at them.

Hm.

He forgot they were there.

"So," Jason began, staring Bruce straight in the eyes. Batman's eyes narrowed. "Don't suppose we can push that forward to right now?"

"Yea, sure why not I'm not doing anything important." Danny leveled the Observants a look, and before either they, Batman, or the Justice League could do anything they both disappeared.

[redbleedingrose]

imagine waking az up with kisses all over his face and then saying goodnight by kissing him all over his face too 🥺

HELP!!!

Smothering Az in kisses because he is also a shy boy is just.... sigh. What I would do to be with that male.

Okay no, but imagine this... being best friends with Azriel and you both are complete idiots in denial that you both love each other sm and Rhys and Cass drive themselves crazy (and broke) with bets on how long it will take you two to realize you both are madly in love with each other.

What do you mean its not normal for besties to constantly chose to sit next to each other and get annoyed if someone steals their spot???

Like Azriel has the right to be annoyed that Mor is sitting next to you instead of him. He always sits next to you. That's basically his undesignated but designated seat on the sofa. You sit at the corner because you like to lean against the arm rest, and you stuff your feet under Az's thigh to keep warm. Mor can't do that for you. And how about the fact that you both have your own conversations together, even though everyone else is around. He just has to tell you how he plans to get back at Cassian for the burly males attempt at dying poor Azzie's hair pink. Sigh...

What do you mean its not normal for besties to constantly be touching each other in some way???

Of course Azriel has to have his thigh pressed against yours. It is comfortable, and you love the heat that radiates off of him. Also he has nice arms. Are you not supposed to want to grab and squeeze at those muscles??? I mean c'mon??? They look delectable. And what do you mean you aren't supposed to be running into his arms as soon as he is back from a long mission?? The male has been gone for 3 weeks being the nightcourt spymaster??? You missed him?? Like... obviously you are gonna bury your face into his neck and wrap your legs around his waist so he can carry you around to the couch so he can collapse on top of you and take a 5 hour nap together because you both struggle to sleep without each other nearby??? That makes complete and other sense???

And what do you mean its not normal for besties to kiss each other?? Of course it is.

Of course it is completely normal for you to stare at Azriel's lips all day while he smirks down at you. They are nice and plump?? Like?? Who wouldn't stare at them?? And obviously, all those kisses to your cheek and forehead and temple and nose and chin from him are completely and utterly platonic??? Of course its just best friend vibes when you snuggle into his side and smooch his bicep when he wraps his arm around you. And yeah you do kiss each others lips sometimes??? Like... Is Azriel supposed to resist your pretty glossed up lips? He is supposed to make sure the strawberry flavored gloss covers every inch of your lips so obvi he is gonna kiss you to make it all even. And ummm? It's just a peck! And sometimes more. But its just because he is your best friend. Azriel wants to make sure you feel love in every way.

So yeah. You are just best friends. Obviously, Rhys and Cass are the true idiots, smh.

Should I write a Part 2????

Check out more of my works! Reblogs and Comments are always appreciate and go such a long way in motivating me!

[puck-luck]

Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.

Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…

👉🏻👈🏻

warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416

The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.

Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.

“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”

“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”

“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”

Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.

He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.

“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him. 

“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.

When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.

“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate. 

“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car. 

Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back. 

It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.

Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.

Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.

You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”

“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”

“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”

Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person. 

You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.

But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.

“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”

“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied. 

You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends. 

The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.

He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.

When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.

You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.

“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.

“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.

“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is. 

Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.

“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs. 

When he didn’t reply, you tried again.

“Babe, talk to me–”

“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”

You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.

“Answer me. I asked you a question.”

“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.

“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”

“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them. 

Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”

“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.

“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”

“No,” you breathed out. 

“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”

You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.

“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”

The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it. 

“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”

“Can’t,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”

You nodded and hummed an agreement.

Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”

“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.

“Help you what?”

“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good. 

Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down. 

You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.

“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth. 

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth. 

He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted. 

“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”

Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.

“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring. 

“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”

All you could do was look at him, eyes wide. 

He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”

Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.  

He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock. 

You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.

A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”

He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.

“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.

“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.

You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.

“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip. 

You shook your head.

“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”

You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle. 

Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.

Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line. 

“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”

His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.

“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.

Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.

Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.

When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.

You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.

His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.

He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”

You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.

“I want to keep going,” you admitted.

“You know your word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me?”

“Flower.”

“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”

You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).

“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.

“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”

You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door. 

Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection. 

Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same. 

For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.

His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…

You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.

Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”

You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.

“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished. 

“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.

He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”

Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.

Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.

“So wet,” he murmured.

You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.

“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”

“Mhm. Why else?”

Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.

You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes. 

“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”

“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook. 

“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room. 

“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded. 

It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.

“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”

You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint. 

“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”

And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.

“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”

Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked.

“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”

Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”

“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“And your butt is small.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.

“I’m waiting.”

Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”

Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.

“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him. 

Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went. 

One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch. 

He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.

“I bet Johnny could do it better.”

Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There is was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.

 You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.

Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.

“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”

Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.

It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.

He started by pinning your hips down.

“Greedy,” he chastised. 

“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.

Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.

It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.

“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.

“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.

“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”

You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.

“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.

“Untie it, please!”

Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”

You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”

“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”

“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”

Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.” 

It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.

“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm. 

“Just for you, Lu.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”

Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”

He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean. 

“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.

“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”

Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”

Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.

When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.

notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.

SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

Character Flaws vs Writing Flaws:

While catching up on some of the stuff people have commented/sent to me, I noticed someone mention how Katsuki being a bully is a flaw of his and that not every character needs to be a good person.

First of all, when did I ever say that a character has to be morally correct to be a good character? Some of my favorite characters are villains who’ve done worse things than Katsuki.

So what’s the difference between them and Katsuki?

Well, the villains have a reason for existing. Joker is meant to serve as a parallel to Batman, challenging his morals while also showing what an unhinged Batman could look like.

On a much lesser scale, despite his extremely limited screen time, Moonfish’s bloodlust, lack of sanity, and cannibalism serve two purposes in MHA: to showcase Fumikage’s power and to give the readers an example of what the heroes of this world have to deal with.

Katsuki’s flaws are meant to show the flaws of a world that values raw power over morals, but he fails at this. The reason why? His flaws are never allowed to be flaws.

Katsuki’s aggressive and hostile nature should have him struggling to make friends, yet he has the two pillars of 1-A, that being Ejiro and Denkias described by Hori, immediately befriend him with no issues. His inability to empathize with others should have people wanting to steer away from him, but his instead 1-A loves him, Eri loves him despite being the last person who would, and anyone who doesn’t love him is seen as being in the wrong.

Katsuki is meant to be a big fish in a little pond, someone whose ego isn’t challenged until a certain point, and the Battle Trials were meant to show this. While yes, Katsuki has a mini-breakdown over the fact that he’s no longer in a class of people with weaker quirks, he has no issue claiming a spot as a Top Dog and he still continues to demean the people around him.

Katsuki’s aggressiveness is meant to be both a flaw and an asset. His aggressive nature is what motivates him to defeat the villain, but it’s supposed to cause him to have a one track mind when it comes to hero work. Rescue, teamwork, all of that is ignored by him to fight the big bad. His ego caused everyone to have a tougher time during the USJ, but is that ever touched upon? Nope. It’s just ignored. When Katsuki saved Kyouka, there was no buildup to it. It just happens. We never see him struggle with teamwork because everyone else follows him like a lost puppy.

Meanwhile, Izuku is meant to be Katsuki’s parallel in this department. He’s meant to showcase why too much selflessness isn’t good while also showing that a hero is more than just their raw power. Problem is, Izuku gets completely shat on no matter what he does. He goes after a villain to protect U.A? Gets criticized. Does his best to work with Katsuki? Gets blamed despite it solely being an issue on Katsuki’s end. Does everything perfectly? Nope, still not enough. Compared to Izuku, who always seems to be in the wrong, Katsuki’s placed as this paragon of heroic virtues despite the fact both characters are supposed to be two halves of a whole. They’re supposed to learn from one another. Problem is, Katsuki’s flaws are always ignored while Izuku’s positive traits are demeaned.

Finally, Katsuki being a bully is supposed to serve as a starting point for his character. He’s meant to grow and develop as a human being. Again, he doesn’t, or at least he doesn’t do so in an organic way. He never suffers consequences for his behavior, he’s constantly propped up and coddled instead of criticized, and he’s given some heroic moments despite there being no buildup to them. In the span of a month he goes from nearly killing Izuku to risking his life for him. Where the hell did that come from? Honestly, I wouldn’t care if Katsuki being a bully is his sole purpose for existing, but he’s meant to be more than that. This is supposed to be a well developed and fully fleshed out character who grows from his selfishness and is meant to show that anyone can be a hero, no matter their starting point. But when the development is crap and he hardly changes outside of some OOC moments, then his flaws cease to be flaws that he’s meant to overcome. Instead MHA treats it as him being quirky and misunderstood.

In conclusion, you just can’t present something as a character flaw and expect it to serve as an excuse as to why a character exhibits said flaw. You have to think of the following: what purpose does this flaw serve? Is it meant to be used to teach a lesson? Does it set something in motion, whether it be the development of this character, another character, or does the flaw cause the character’s downfall? The only thing Katsuki’s flaws does right is that they set up Izuku’s story, which again would be fine if that’s Katsuki’s purpose, but it’s not. Him being a bully isn’t something that he overcomes in a natural way. His redemption story is the equivalent of filling things out of a checklist without being fleshed out. Every time he screws up, it’s never treated as a screw-up. Oh he failed the hero license exam? Well so did Shoto so he’s not unique there, and the proctors still suck his dick even while he’s “failing”. Him being the reason for 13’s injuries? Never brought up.

Katsuki’s flaws don’t piss me off because they are flaws, but because the writing of his character IS so deeply flawed despite being a centralized character in the story.

Oh, and as always, someone can dislike a character for whatever reason they might have. If people don’t like Katsuki because he’s a bully, then they have every right to. What I wrote is a response as to why I think Katsuki’s a shit character and how it’s not because of his flaws themselves, but how Hori goes about writing these flaws.

[soxcietyy]

Hello, I wanted to ask you (if you are not busy at university) a story where Yuuta is jealous because you have been talking to Itadori and Megumi and he asks you to go to his room and he fucks you hard.

(It's not my native language because I don't know if it's right)

Jealousy

typed this in the library when i should of been studying.

Another exhausting day at school has you dragging your feet across campus. You couldn’t walk anymore from his far your classes were from each other. Yuuta on the other hand looked like it was no problem for him. He happily walked next to you as he held your hand, pulling you along with him. You had no idea how he wasn’t burnt out yet, he can’t be human. Especially during finals.

You could hear your name be called out from a distance as you thought about how much you hated school. Turning your attention around you could see Yuji waving at you to grab your attention. Next to him was his best friend Megumi. Putting a halt to your movement you feel as Yuta continues to pull you along.

"Hey, the guys are here! Let’s see what they want." You say as you pull him back.

You could hear as he heavily breaths through his nose. He looked bothered that someone had stopped your little stroll. He’d do this often where he would try to avoid interactions with people when he was with you.

As the boys approached you also walked closer to them.

You could feel how Yuuta stared at you from behind. Waiting for a conversation that hasn’t even started to be over.

"Hey y/n! Yuuta!" Yuji says as he waved once again. The boys and Yuuta were roommates and saw each other everyday. You on the other hand didn’t see them too often. " We’re going to go out and eat. You should come y/n! It’s been so long since we’ve eaten out and I don’t think I can handle an empty stomach any longer." Itadori says as he holds his stomach.

Megumi shakes his head knowing it was going to be a long day.

He was right about it being a while. The classes you guys have recently been taking were hard and time consuming. You’ve been going to school, work, doing homework, and studying every day. Maybe it was time for a little well deserved break. Plus hanging out with Yuji was always fun.

Turning back to look at Yuuta for approval, who had his hands in his pockets and a stoic face. He didn’t like the idea from the looks of it. "Common Yu! It will be fun, like old times!" You say as you drag him into the circle.

He closes his eyes for a moment with his arms now crossed. "Fine." He finally spoke out.

"Yay! So it’s set! Shall we go now!?" You say jumping up and down.

Everyone eventually agreed to the restaurant and headed that way. As you guys walked to the place you felt Yuuta pull you closer to him. His face leaning down to your ear.

"Better be as joyful as you are now later tonight." Yuuta says as he caressed your shoulder.

Shivers went down your spine knowing what was coming later on.

At the restaurant you guys caught up with each other. Talking about school, work, love and life in general. It was a really wonderful conversation you guys were having. Yuuta on the other than was ready to go the second you guys got there. The two of you sat next to each other at a 4 person table. He would squeeze your thigh signaling you that it was fine. You simply ignored him though.

"Oh y/n I noticed you’ve changed your style." Yuji says as he takes a sip out of his drink.

You couldn’t help but blush because he had noticed something like that. It had taken Yuuta a few days to catch into your style change. As the both of you spoke about clothes you could see Yuuta’s eye twitch from the corner of your eye. His leg bouncing up and down as he grew more impatient.

"Yuuta senpai we’re actually thinking of going to the gym later to work out our upper body. Do you think you could give us some advice?" Megumi asks.

Yuuta dragged his eyes in between both of the guys. Thinking about what his answer should be. "Yea I’m down for that." Yuuta crosses his arms. "Now that I think about it I also told Y/n I was going to help her with something. If we go do it now then I can definitely go over your work out routines." Yu uta cocks his head.

"Oh absolutely! We’ll meet you at the gym we might stop at the dorm to pick something up though!" Yuji exclaims.

That’s how Yuuta managed to get you guys out of that lunch outting. He was really quiet on your walk back to his dorm. His heavy arm weighing your shoulder down as he rested it on you. The second you guys got into his room he scanned the area. Making sure it was just the two of you. When he realized it was safe he pulled you into his embrace. Hands running down your back all the way to the waistband of your bottoms. While his hands were occupied he also put his tongue to work. Shoving it inside your mouth unexpectedly. He explored your mouth roughly as he got more hands with you. Putting his hand under your shirt and cupping one of your brest. Fondling the soft flesh aggressively.

You groan as he pulls your bottoms down. Pushing you over his desk that had many pencil is and papers scattered on it. Infront if you was a mirror that reflected his unhappy mood. He spread your legs with your knee and pushed you down so you could arch your back infront of him.

"You were enjoying your time hm? Having the attention of so many boys on you. You are loving it, I could see it on your face." Yuuta ran his fingers through your hair.

"Yuuta they’re our friends, you know I would never see it like tha-hmp!" The sudden noice escapes your lips as you feel him shove himself inside of you without preparation.

You squeeze the edges if the desk as he slammed into you. Making you go forward and making you stand on your tipi toes. Grabbing a fistful of hair he brought you closer to his mouth.

"You rather have someone else’s attention right?" He moved the mirror so it could reflect the door. "Well let’s see how much of their attention you want if they walk through that door." He says as he lets go and starts pounding you.

"Yuuta! Ngh- your over reacting!" You say trying your best to making him slow down. "You wouldn't possibly be serious about letting them see me like this!" you say biting your lip to create less noise.

you need to be on high alert, listening to everything going on outside so you could know wen they where coming. Yuuta on the other hand didn't care. You could hear him groan and breath heavily every time he pulled back and slammed into you.

As you looked in the mirror you could see his tired eyes looking at you, refusing to look away for a second. Pulling your shirt up with a quick hard tug your breast are exposed to the air. With no second thoughts he squeezed your nipples causing you to let out a cry.

"its cute watching your sad attempts on keeping quiet." he smiles as he kisses the nape of your neck.

Moving his hands onto your hips he lift you up a bit with no issue. Then he slams into you once causing you to gasp. He was hitting such a deep part of you that you never knew he could reach. your hands fly to your mouth as he uses you as his personal cock sleeve.

your feet where no longer on the floor but you held onto the desk for support. You could hear him mumbling under his breath but you couldn’t decipher what he was saying from how foggy your mind was.

"Please, please, i'm so sorry. Just stop before you they come in here." You turn to look at him with teary eyes.

Yuta rasies his brows and stands there in thought for a second. Trying to determine if he was going to listen to you.

"Fine," Yuuta smiles

you sigh in relief.

"After I finish of course." Yuuta holds a strong grip on your hips so you could stop moving around.

"yuut- mph!" you try to stop him but was cut of by the sudden penetration. Sliding inside and out in a painfully slow pace. Obviously he was taking his time to finish so your friends wouldn’t run into you in this situation.

You couldn't help but end a glare onto his way.

"alright, alright, don't get an attitude with me now. I'll give you what you want.

He buries his face by the crook of your neck and wraps his arms around you. shoving himself as deep as he could until you let out small whimpers. After adjusting himself well he began to rail you. whispering small little praises into your ear as you took him incredibly well.

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Better, Not So Hidden Half

Part 2 of The Better, Hidden Half

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.

Warnings: depiction of minor injuries (Tim), fluff, grumpy!Tim, Smitty, mentions of drugging

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When Tim was infected by an unknown biological weapon, he told you that he wanted to stop keeping you separate from the rest of his life. You’re his better half, and he cares deeply about you and your safety, but that doesn’t mean you should be his hidden half. During his short stay in the hospital, Wade introduced you to Lucy Chen, Tim’s rookie, and John Nolan. Since then, however, Tim hasn’t done proper introductions or made any real changes. He has started wearing his wedding ring to work, though, rather than leaving it on a chain around your neck. Baby steps, maybe, but it’s progress.

Your phone rings while Tim is at work, and your breaths grow shallow when you see Wade’s name on the screen. The last time something happened to Tim, Angela called you; any time you see Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, or Talia Bishop’s names appear on your phone, your heart drops in fear for your husband.

“Hey, Wade,” you answer softly.

“Can you please come talk some sense into your husband?” he asks.

Wade's tone and accompanying sigh are all you need to hear to know he’s tired. Sirens have surrounded you all day, so you’re not surprised that something happened.

“About what?” you reply.

“Sorry for the surprise call,” he adds, “I know those can be concerning, so I’ll go ahead and tell you that Tim was in a minor accident, but he’s refusing to get looked at.”

“Shocking,” you joke. “I’ll be there soon. How is he?”

Wade begins to answer, but you hear Tim yell, “If I need a break, I will take one!” in the background.

“Sounds about the same as usual,” you say and answer your question. “See you in a few.”

“Thank you. You’re the best honorary cop I’ve got.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sergeant Grey.”

When you walk into the Mid-Wilshire Station, Tim and Wade are nowhere to be seen. You see Angela waiting nearby, and she rushes to hug you after you wave.

“Are you finally here to meet everyone? Since someone decided that he needed to talk to you alone to heal last time?” she asks playfully.

“I’m here because Tim is injured and stubborn,” you answer.

“And he’ll still be injured and stubborn after you meet the boots who can’t stop talking about you.”

“Is he okay?” you whisper.

“He’s fine. Barely injured, I promise.”

You nod and thank her before she leads you toward a small crowd of officers. Talia says hello, and the three in long sleeves stand up straighter when they see you.

“Mrs. Bradford, nice to see you again,” Lucy greets.

“You too, Officer Chen,” you reply.

“Lucy, please.”

“You’ve met Lucy and Nolan – however brief Tim kept it. And this is my rookie, Jackson West,” Angela introduces.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer with your handshake.

“So, you married Bradford?” he asks. “Why?”

You chuckle at the question but can’t answer your cliched answer of because I love him, and he’s really just a big softie under the sarcastic eye rolls and grumpy yelling before Nolan asks another question.

“At the hospital, you said less than five words to Tim, and he listened. No complaining, no hateful looks, just immediately obeyed. How do you do that?” Nolan inquires.

“Wait – how did you meet?” Jackson adds. “Let’s be chronological.”

Nolan nods in agreement, and you prepare to answer.

“Then I want to know your first thought of Tim. Before you met, just saw each other, whatever… what did you see that drew you in?” Lucy asks.

Angela and Bishop smile as your eyes bounce between the rookies and their never-ending questions. You can’t answer one before the next one is asked, and though you don’t feel the same, you can understand why Tim didn’t want you to meet them all at once.

“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Where did Tim propose?”

“The place where they met,” Talia answers.

Nolan turns quickly to yell, “You knew Tim was married! Why didn’t you mention her?”

“She’s not my wife,” Talia replies sarcastically. “Not my story to tell.”

“I would have talked about her because she’s my best friend,” Angela interjects. “But Tim threatened me.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Jackson says. “We’re just excited and shocked and have so many questions.”

“Mrs. Bradford?” a passing officer asks. “You’re too young to be Mom Bradford, and you’re not his sister…”

“I’m Tim’s wife,” you finish.

“This is Smitty,” Angela tells you.

She winks quickly, and you nod in understanding. You’ve heard plenty of stories about Smitty, and more than enough complaints when you’re alone with Tim. He seems unique, to put it lightly (and kinder than Tim does).

“You married Tim Bradford? Was he by any chance in possession of narcotics or mind-altering drugs when you met? Because it’s pretty easy to convince a woman to do something these days, just a little powder in an uncovered drink, you know,” Smitty continues.

“Smitty, have you drugged a woman before?” Nolan asks. His suspicion is evident in how he asks and the narrowing of his eyes.

“Well, Officer Smitty,” you begin. You nod at Angela, and her smile grows when she realizes you plan to play along.

Tim stands with a quiet grunt of pain. He stretches to the side to fight the growing stiffness and sees Lucy talking to a group of people. Smitty approaches the side, and Nolan steps back to reveal the focus of all of the attention. Tim doesn’t think twice and races out of Wade’s office to save you from the boots.

You address Smitty but don’t say anything more before Tim wraps his hand around your arm while the other grips your hip and pulls you backward. Tim moves you away from Angela and ignores the protests that follow your sudden departure. You don’t fight him as he leads you into Wade’s office. Wade looks up and mouths a relieved thank you.

“Tim, as much as I love meeting the people you pretend not to care about, would you please stop getting hurt and giving me an excuse to drop by unannounced?” you ask.

“I didn’t get hurt,” Tim argues.

His hands are still on you, so you turn in his hold to look at him. Several scrapes litter his left cheek, and you run a gentle finger under them. You can see that his shoulders are tense but you're grateful that his injuries seem to be limited to some stiffness and scrapes.

“What did Wade tell you?” Tim whispers.

“That you were being stubborn and not listening,” Wade mumbles behind you. “I’m surprised she believed me.”

Tim keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t comment further on his injuries or the rookies you just met. He looks down, and you follow his eyes to his hands. His left hand is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages as he slides his right hand into his pocket.

“Had to take this off,” he tells you.

You extend your hand to accept his wedding ring and curl your fingers around it. After unhooking your necklace chain, you slide his ring on and keep it safe against your chest. Tim nods once it’s secure with you and pulls you to sit beside him. You lay a hand against his right cheek and smile as he leans against your hand. He leans in and kisses you quickly before glancing at Wade to ensure he isn’t watching.

“He’s seen us kiss before,” you remind Tim.

“And I will never let you forget it,” Wade agrees, focusing on the paperwork before him.

“No mind-altering drugs required,” Tim says with a small smile.

“Now I understand why you didn’t want me to meet Smitty.”

“I warned you.”

“Luckily, Angela introduced me to the rookies first, and I invited them over for dinner on Sunday. Wade, you and Luna are welcome to come, too, if you’d like,” you say.

Tim groans as Wade promises to pass the invitation on to Luna. You sit back carefully as Tim leans against you. He’s grumpy about your new connection with the boots but loves you. Tim meant it when he said he didn’t want to keep you hidden and risk wasting his life by separating from everything else that matters to him.

“Lucy won’t shut up,” he realizes with a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, because I’m sure you carry half of the conversation as it is,” you tease. “Don’t forget how well I know you, Bradford.”

“As long as you don’t forget that I don’t like these people, Bradford,” Tim counters.

“You let Angela come over all the time. And don’t give me the whole ‘she scares me’ thing; you love her.”

Tim moves closer to you to whisper, “I love you more.”

“Then go get a full physical examination. Make sure all the handsomeness is still put together like it’s supposed to be.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Then maybe you don’t love me like you claim to. That’s why you leave your ring with me, right? Easier to bring women in when no one knows you’re married.”

Wade fails to hide a laugh before he covers it with a fake cough. Tim shakes his head but kisses you again before standing. You follow him to the door and thank Wade for the call. Tim waves everyone over, and Lucy beats the rest of them by a solid three seconds.

“Hi again,” she tells you.

“I’ll go see the medic if you rescind the dinner offer,” Tim tells you.

“You’ll go see the medic either way, so no,” you reply.

“We’ve decided a better way to ask questions, and we’ll give you time to breathe in the future,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Jackson. I understand the excitement; not the shock because, I mean, look at him," you wave toward Tim and continue, "but it’s not every day that you meet Officer Grumpy’s secret wife.”

“Did you just gesture to me like I’m a game show prize?” Tim murmurs.

“Tim and I will be happy to answer all your questions at dinner. It was very nice to meet all of you, and if Smitty asks again, I was absolutely drugged.”

Tim drags you away once again, and Angela only hears him ask, “Officer Grumpy?” before the door closes behind you both.

You turn and place a hand under Tim’s chin. One touch, a smile, and a kiss turn Tim back into your loving husband. He didn’t realize that keeping you separate from his work life gave you a unique power over him because he’s never had to hide his love for you or the physical affection he’s grown to crave.

“Be careful,” you request softly. “And call me if they find any other injuries.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tim answers.

“Don’t,” you warn.

“You kissed me first.”

“Thanks for letting me be part of your life, Tim.” He nods and kisses you slowly, but you push him away to warn him, “Ask Angela to tell you about Smitty before he says anything about our relationship.”

“You talked to Smitty, too? Maybe I should start leaving you at home again.”

“I love you,” you call over your shoulder.

“I love you,” Tim replies.

He walks back into the station with two things on his mind: learning what Smitty thinks about you and Tim that was worth a warning and getting home to you. Your touch, kiss, and the soft return of his ring will always be the best part of Tim’s day, and even though he wears his ring more often now, you still pull him in because he needs you more than he’s ever needed the ring.

[chiriwritesstuff]

Hometown Glory; 1. Back to the Old House

Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: M

Chapter Summary: Glory and Frankie, two best friends from a small town in Texas, find themselves in different places as adults. They haven't spoken in years, yet find themselves being drawn back home, searching for... something they can't quite explain. Will they be able to find their purpose back to where it all began?

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Strong language, Frankie is going through it, Someone decides it's a good idea to dip in the middle of the night, Sexism in the workplace, Unstable family dynamics.

Word Count: 8k

1998 (16 years old)

It's a school night on a random Monday, and you're perched cross-legged in a boy's room, a bowl of popcorn resting precariously on your lap. With a mischievous grin, you snatch the remote control from said boy, clicking it over to ABC as he groans in annoyance.

"Hey! What the hell!" he grumbles in annoyance, "Don't you know it's rude to just take a man's remote?"

"It's my night, remember?" you remind him playfully. "There's a new episode of Ally McBeal, and I'm dying to find out what happened between Ally and Billy."

"Gross. Not the biggest fan of that girly romance shit-" he drawls from above, his arm snaking around your shoulder as he reaches for a handful of popcorn. "I would rather watch something cool, like that 70s show. At least it's funny."

You roll your eyes at his protest, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Come on, Frankie, let's be real here. We both know the only reason you want to watch it is because you have a huge crush on Jackie," you tease, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "But remember, we made a deal, Frankie baby. Mondays are my night!"

Frankie flops back onto his bed, his arms crossed over his chest in a mock pout. "Fine, but I reserve the right to complain the entire time," he declares, a faint smile on his lips. "I mean, at least Ally is kinda hot-"

You playfully toss a piece of popcorn at your best friend. "Anyway, remember when we had to write that paper in Mrs. Miller's class? About what we wanted to be when we grew up?" You lean in closer, your eyes fixed on Calista Flockhart as she flirts with Billy on the screen. "Well, I wrote that I wanted to be just like Ally," you share, taking a sip of Pepsi.

"What, like a lawyer?"

"No, like an actress. Of course like a lawyer!" you exclaim. "I mean, I love to argue-"

"Not correcting you there-"

"... and, it's like, so grown up, right? She looks like someone who has her shit together, her lack of love life notwithstanding, but still. I can see myself doing that!"

Frankie groans as he props himself up on his elbows, his warm breath tickling your ear. "I can totally see you doing that," he says with a chuckle, his voice close to your ear. "But hey, you're good at everything you set your mind to, Glo."

"Aw, Frankie... is that a compliment I hear? maybe I should check outside and see if any pigs are flying-"

"Very funny," he scoffs, joining you on the floor and reaching for the bowl of popcorn. "You know you're smart as hell, so I don't doubt that you can do it."

"What about you?" you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully.

"What about me?" he responds, his shoulder bumping against yours. "What do I want to be when I grow up? That's easy. I want to be a pilot."

"So, like... the military, then? Flying Black Hawks and getting everyone to safety? I always knew you had a hero complex," you tease, nudging him again.

Frankie grins, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Yeah, something like that," he says, his voice full of wonder. "I've always wanted to serve my country, you know? And being a pilot in the military seems like the perfect way to do it. Plus, I get to carry a gun," he adds with a smirk. "Chicks dig that, you know?"

"Chicks? Frankie, I love you, but for the love of everything holy, please don't refer to women as "chicks", it's degrading-"

"Some chicks like to be degraded," he quips, cocking his head. "At least that's what the guys say in the locker room."

"Not me though," you muse, resting your head on his shoulder as he settles himself against you more, placing his arm around your shoulder as Ally and Billy kiss on screen. "I guess that makes me not like other girls, huh?"

You feel the slight rumble of his chest as he chuckles.

You swear you feel the ghost of his lips on your temple.

Frankie leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "No, Glory," he whispers. "You're so much more than most girls."

16 years later.

"Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong."

"No, you didn't," you retort firmly, eyeing the hefty stack of papers across from you, addressing the group of men- the partners and board members of the firm you decided to spend the last ten years of your life at seated before you. Settling back into the plush leather chair, you cross your legs with an air of confidence. "While I appreciate your acknowledgment of my ten years of hard work and the countless cases won," you pause for emphasis, casually inspecting your nails before meeting their gaze head-on, "...if it weren't for a stupid technicality, I'd be hailed as the first female lawyer in the entire state of New York with a flawless record, right?"

"Indeed, we recognize your almost-stellar track record," Nigel, the lead partner of your firm continues, glossing over your achievements like you expected, chuckling as he adjusts his suit collar. "That's precisely why we believe it's the perfect time to bring you on as a junior partner. We think you're ready."

"Junior Partner?" you echo, incredulous, your tone laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "After all these years of fighting tooth and nail against men who were promoted with far less experience, after winning case after case and saving these assholes millions of dollars in alimony payments, I'm still only good enough to become a Junior Partner? Please. Please tell me you're joking." You lean forward, fixing them with a pointed stare, the intensity of your gaze daring them to justify their belated recognition.

The ten men in question, a mix of balding, beady-eyed partners and sharply dressed greying board members shift uncomfortably in their seats. The rustle of their tailored Armani suits rubbing against one another fills the room with a grating sound akin to nails on a chalkboard.

"It took me a decade to even get offered Junior Partner. How many more years until I'm considered for a full Partnership? Another decade?" you ask, your impatience seeping into each word.

"Is there something amiss?" another member of the board interjects, gesturing towards the stack of papers on the table once more. "We don't often extend promotions like this, especially to someone as young as yourself... or any woman, for that matter," he adds with a cough, a smirk playing on his lips as if he's cracked a clever joke. "Most would consider it a gift, wouldn't you agree?"

"I appreciate the offer, truly," you interject, "but I believe my worth exceeds what you're offering." Each word resonates with a sense of determination, a testament to the challenges you've overcome and the achievements you've earned in your career.

With a flick of your wrist, you push the stack of papers back across the conference table, the pages dancing in the air as the men across from you watch in disbelief. The gravity of your decision hangs heavy in the room. "I'm done," you announce firmly, the weight of your words echoing in the silence that follows.

The room fills with gasps as another suit interjects, his face flushed with anger. "I beg your pardon?!" he exclaims. "This isn't a negotiation, and it's a fair offer for someone of your talents," he spits.

You fix him with a steely gaze. "Tell me, Bill-" you retort sharply, "who's the most sought-after associate in this firm? Why do I have gold-digging socialites, cheating tech bros, and trigger-happy celebrities clamoring for a meeting with me at the front desk? Whose face is it on the news when the courts decide to rule in our favor? Certainly, it isn't any of you, that's for damn sure."

Gone is the girl from the small town off the outskirts of Austin, Texas- a former homecoming queen slash magna cum laude loved and cherished by a town that seemed so minuscule compared to the vastness and hunger of your ambition.

You were both a dreamer and a doer, tirelessly working and amassing scholarship after scholarship, grant after grant. Your sights were set on one school only: Yale. You believed that if you couldn't make it there from the start, settling for anything less wasn't an option.

"I'm gonna be like that when I grow up," you declared, flopping onto the lumpy couch as reruns of Law and Order SVU played in the background. Your Nana, her tight, white curls peeking out from the worn brown fabric of her La-Z-Boy, glanced at you with mild curiosity.

"Be like what?" she would reply absentmindedly, her voice raspy from the years of Misty's holding constant residence at the corner of her lips. "Like an actor? Like Mariska? Did you know she's the daughter of Jayne Mansfield?"

"No, like a Lawyer," you would tease, your eyes locked onto Stephanie March as she takes the stand, her sneer as icy as the blonde of her pin-straight hair, her voice strong and confident as she calmly verbally eviscerates yet another rapist, this time one of the shaky-ijustwantedtosmellher-variety, shaking like a leaf as they undergo cross-examination. "She's so fucking cool," you would whisper to yourself, the loud chuckle-cough-chuckle of your Nana as she peers at you from the corner of her eye.

"... but you're such a sweet girl!" she would retort, "how are you gonna win the case when you're so damn nice all the time? those suits would eat you alive, believe you me!"

Your voice rises steadily, like a crescendo building to a climax, until you're finally shouting. All the hurt and embarrassment you've bottled up explodes, coursing through your veins like an unstable chemical reaction. "The reason we're all still in business is because of me!" you declare, your words punctuated by frustration. "Or should I ask Bill in finance for confirmation? Maybe he's mistaken." You unclench your jaw, feeling the tension in your neck as you reach for your phone. "All those high-profile clients? They're loyal to me. If I leave, they'll follow. Think about that."

As the partners exchange bewildered looks, Nigel's discomfort is palpable as he clears his throat. "But... where will you go?" he stammers. "How do you expect to thrive in this industry without the support of a prestigious firm like ours? Besides, no one just turns their nose up at a salary increase of a hundred thousand dollars-"

"Okay, got it. So this isn't a negotiation, and there's no room for reconsideration?" You glance around the room, meeting each of their downturned gazes. Leaning back in your chair, a smirk plays at the corners of your lips as you hold their gaze.

"Oh, don't worry about me," you retort, rolling your eyes slightly. "You don't have to concern yourselves with my well-being. After all, you haven't given a damn about it throughout my entire career here, have you?"

A ripple of anxious laughter echoes through the room, mingled with the partners' disbelief at your audacity. "And just where do you plan to go?" Nigel presses.

With a knowing smile, you rise from your seat, gathering your belongings with a newfound sense of purpose. "Back to where I belong, I suppose," you declare. "Home."

You give the group of men one last nod, your expression firm. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think this is going to work out," you say, your tone resolute. "And frankly, I've had enough of playing by your rules."

With a final flick of your hair, pin-straight and glossy like Stephanie, you stride out of the conference room, leaving behind the stifling atmosphere of the sleazy-suited assholes, their mouths agape, completely stunned. As the door clicks shut, you feel a sense of liberation wash over you, like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

Good fucking riddance, you think to yourself, walking past your colleagues, their heads bobbing up curiously from their cubicles as they watch you march away. You laugh to yourself at the sight of it, your head held high in defiance. Today marks the beginning of a new journey, one where you refuse to let others dictate your worth or your future.

Back in your corner office, tucked away at the back of the building- a spot they seemed to think was where you belonged, far away from the big boys club, you're surrounded by the familiar trappings of your professional life. The cardboard box on your desk awaits its contents – the remnants of a career spent in a firm that never fully appreciated your efforts, despite your unwavering dedication and the millions of dollars earned in your wake.

Shaking off the sting of humiliation and blinking back the tears of frustration threatening to spill, you begin the task of packing up your belongings. Your framed Juris Doctor is tossed in haphazardly, followed by a flurry of other items scattered across the surface of the box. Three framed photos: two girls, with wide smiles and pigtails, an old woman standing on the porch of a decaying home, and a group of like-looking women, the bright smiles and the promise of the endless possibility of the future in their eyes. Gone is the meticulously styled hair, now hastily tied up in a messy bun as you delve into the depths of your desk drawer. You pull out items in a flurry, tossing them into the box until your fingers come across something unfamiliar, hidden at the very back of the drawer.

Your fingers brush against something soft, and you pull out a faded friendship bracelet. Its beads are strung together to spell out a name you haven't seen in years. The memories flood back, threatening to overwhelm you as you stare at the name engraved on the bracelet.

F-R-A-N-

In an instant, you're transported back to a moment etched deep in the recesses of your mind: small hands trembling as they offer the bracelet to yours, the earnest gaze of a young boy not much taller than you. A tentative smile graces his lips as he extends the friendship offering. "You gave me yours, so I'm giving you mine... that means we're friends, right?"

You accept the bracelet with shaky hands, feeling a warmth spread through you. You smile back at the boy in front of you, his smile widening to match yours. "Right. Best friends!"

A pang of regret washes over you, mingling with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia for the friendship that once meant so much to you. With a heavy heart, you carefully place the bracelet into the box, a silent reminder of the past you've left behind.

Two Weeks later (somewhere in between New York and Texas)

"Okay, let me get this straight. They finally offer you a promotion, and that's when you decide it's the perfect time to quit? Seriously, Glory, please explain that logic to me," your sister's voice crackles through the car speakers as you navigate down the coast, taking another sip of your coffee to steel yourself for the conversation. "I'm begging you, please make it make sense. If management told me I needed to shake my ass to get a wage increase, I would say when and where. Surely, a hundred thousand dollars is a decent offer-"

"Yeah, they dangled a hundred thousand dollar salary bump in front of me, but it's not just about the money," you reply, frustration evident in your voice. "They were going to make me a Junior Partner. Junior. It's like they're saying, 'Hey Glory, you're good, but you're not quite good enough to sit at the big kids' table yet. Maybe in another decade or two, you'll get there.'"

"So what's the plan, then? You're just gonna pack up your office, leave your fancy Upper East Side condo behind, toss your shit in a U-Haul, and hightail it back to Nowheresville, USA? You're seriously going to start your firm in a place you swore up and down and to the heavens above that you'd never return to?" Your sister's incredulous voice echoes through the phone as you navigate the winding roads back to your hometown. "As much as the kids and I would love for you to finally be around, shouldn't you be aiming a bit higher than Fredericksburg? There's nothing here-"

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sharp pain making you wince as the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. Relax, you tell yourself. She's right. You should be aiming higher.

"And don't even get me started on that rundown old house that Nana used to live in. Seriously, Glo, you're going to live in that dump? I wouldn't touch that place with a ten-foot pole, let alone live in it. It's a fucking money pit! You'll lose more money than what it's worth!" she snarks, chuckling to herself. "I know that it was all fun and games, talking about how you were gonna fix up that place, make it your forever home, but that was when we were kids! That place barely has a functioning roof!"

"Well, you must read minds, then." you retort dryly. "Sister, I think that you should think about becoming a psychic, because how did you know?" you sing-song back. "Besides, don't you have a guest room in that place of yours? I remember you asking me very nicely to help you out with the reno you did a few years back as a wedding gift, doesn't that mean that the room is mine if I ever needed it?"

There's a weird, awkward silence that suddenly fills the cab of the U-Haul, and you swear you can hear the gears turning in your sister's brain as she processes the implications of your words, holding your breath as you can feel the wrath that is sure to follow next. You appreciate how predictable your sister always was, knowing damn well that if you had told her that you were actually telling her the truth about your plans on returning home, she would try with every fiber of her being to convince you not to.

"There's nothing here for you, Glory. Nothing but heartbreak and the skeletons that have gathered dust in your bedroom closet. You've always been better than this little old town..." You remember her drunkenly telling you over FaceTime as you down your third glass of Pinot Grigio, your eyes fixed on the blue light radiating from the screen of your MacBook.

Congratulations, the email read. The buyer has accepted your terms, and is expected to move in shortly-

"No, Glo-" she starts.

"The condo sold for over market value-" you offer, a thinly-veiled attempt to try to reason with her.

"Wait. Are you fucking telling me that you're in a U-Haul driving back home? and you're only telling me this now when I haven't even had time to clean out the guest room?! You know how I get when things are left to the last minute-"

"Relax, I'm not going to crash at your house, not when Andrew doesn't know, I've already booked a month at the Hyatt in Austin while I square away the final plans for the house. Think of it this way, if you ever need a place to stay after another one of your husband's benders, you could always sneak away to the hotel room, now that I'll finally be close by. Plus, Hank told me that there's a vacant storefront on Main Street, It's a perfect spot to open the firm-"

"It's just..." Your sister's voice trails off, her chuckle sounding forced. "You always seem to have impeccable timing." There's an odd tension in her tone, a hint of something unsaid lingering between you.

"Impeccable timing, huh?" you prod, sensing there's more to her words than she's letting on.

But before you can dig deeper, she interrupts with a hurried excuse. "Hey, I'd love to chat more, but I've got to run. We'll catch up later, okay? Call me when you get to the hotel, we can grab lunch or something with the kids-"

"Hey, what did you mean about impeccable timing?" you press curiously.

"I gotta go love you byeeee-" she says hurriedly, cutting the phone call.

You're left staring at your phone, a gnawing sense of confusion settling in your gut. Something about her sudden evasiveness doesn't sit right with you, but you push it aside for now, focusing on the road ahead as you continue your journey back home. "Love you too, I guess."

You continue to drive throughout the night, the 26 or so hours that the GPS has estimated your trip to be, refusing to stop for anything other than gas and the occasional bathroom pit stop, grabbing yourself a Buc-ees t-shirt for shits and giggles to commemorate your arrival, breathing a sigh of relief as you eye the “Welcome to Texas!” Sign out in the distance, its surface illuminated by the purple skies of early morning.

"Not much longer," you reassure yourself as you nibble on a sad-looking fruit bowl and sip lukewarm water in the Buc-ee's parking lot. Between bites, you check the time on your phone, swiping away the occasional concerned email from your former associates at the firm.

You raise your phone, capturing the Buc-ee's sign in the distance with your camera app. The empty parking lot reflects the loneliness that has become all too familiar in your adult life.

It's not like I meant for it to be this way, you muse silently, drafting a caption for the photo. "Homeward bound, just a few more hours!" You type out as you hit upload, sharing the moment on your Instagram feed.

As you enter the city limits of the small town you once called home on the way to the Hyatt, you can’t help the wave of nostalgia that suddenly washes over you. You can't help but smile as you pass by familiar landmarks – the public library where you would spend countless hours buried in books, the little Italian place with your favorite lasagna, still in the corner where all of the birthday dinners would be held, the bustling mall, still bursting at the seams with teenagers and young families alike, a place where you and your best friend used to gossip about boys and clothes and how much you hated Mr. Frankel constantly staring at your tits over scoops and cones of ice cream, the shrillness of your combined laughter ringing throughout your ears.

Ex-best friend, you remind yourself bitterly, your knuckles turning white as you clutch the steering wheel. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the one person you would never think would betray you ending up with the guy you once harbored feelings for. The guy. They probably have a picture-perfect life now, living in some military town with a gaggle of kids, the sound of their laughter echoing in your mind like a haunting melody.

As you drive through the familiar streets of your hometown, memories of you and him start to slowly flood back into your consciousness – lazy afternoons spent together, whispered secrets shared under the shade of a tree. But now, those memories are tainted with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of what once was and what could have been.

You can almost see him now, running around the backyard with their children, his laughter mingling with theirs as they play. The image is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, a painful reminder of the love you lost and the friendship that slipped through your fingers.

With a heavy sigh, you tear your gaze away from the fleeting fantasy, focusing instead on the road ahead. It's time to move forward, to let go of the past, and embrace the uncertainty of the future. But as you drive away, a part of you can't help but wonder – what if things had been different?

As you navigate the winding streets, you can't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over you. This may not have been the life you planned, but somehow, returning to your roots feels like coming home in more ways than one.

After a few more hours of driving, you finally pull up to the Hyatt, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs and unload your belongings. The luxurious lobby offers a stark contrast to the worn-out upholstery of your car seat. With a sigh of relief, you drop off your bags in your room before heading back out onto the road.

As you pull up to your Nana's old place, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with apprehension. The once-charming house now stands in complete disrepair, its paint peeling and windows boarded up. Standing outside the weathered front door, you can't help but shake your head.

"Welcome home, Glory," you mutter to yourself, the words carrying both resignation and determination. With a deep breath, you unlock the door and step inside, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Frankie, two weeks before your arrival.

Frankie forgot how fucking hot it was in Texas.

With a heavy sigh, he turns off the ignition of his truck and gazes at the house he hasn't seen in the last few years. The weathered paint job catches his eye, the deep cracks spiderwebbing across the exterior walls. Once-bright white has faded to a tired tan, and a single bright blue shutter still hangs slightly askew from his bedroom window.

"Shit Frankie, do you think your pop is gonna kill me for that?" The voice seeps into his thoughts, unbidden. He shuts his eyes tight, battling against the memories he's long kept buried deep in the recesses of his brain.

His ears catch the familiar sound of tinkering echoing from the depths of the carport beside the house, still cluttered with dismantled shells and rusty car parts. He recognizes the soft grunts of his father as he works on yet another car he decided to fiddle with probably after spotting it abandoned on the roadside.

I've been gone for fifteen years, and yet, it feels like nothing has changed, he muses to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

Frankie lets out a groan as he swings open his car door. His legs feel like lead, knees protesting from the strain of hours spent behind the wheel. He's just made the long haul from his actual home in Florida, leaving behind his daughter and the life he's built there for the last fifteen or so years.

Or tried to, at least.

The notion of divorce loomed over Frankie's thoughts like a persistent shadow, coloring every interaction with his wife. Even in the mundane moments of their daily life, he couldn't shake the feeling of their impending separation. It was as if they were constantly tiptoeing along the edge of a cliff, one wrong step away from falling into the abyss of divorce.

He found himself distancing emotionally, a subconscious defense mechanism against the possibility of heartache. Small disagreements turned into major rifts, each argument fueling the belief that their marriage was irreparable. He couldn't help but imagine a life without Chelsea, even as they sat across from each other at the dinner table or shared a quiet moment on the couch.

The weight of his doubts pressed down on him, clouding his perception of their relationship. Frankie had never truly loved his wife; their relationship was born more out of convenience and familiarity than genuine affection. He often wondered if Chelsea sensed his lack of affection, if she felt the absence of passion and connection that should have been the foundation of their marriage.

Guilt gnawed at him, knowing that he had never given Chelsea the love she deserved. He had entered into their marriage with a sense of obligation rather than devotion, and now he was trapped in a cycle of discontent and disillusionment. Divorce had become more than a possibility; it had become a constant companion, lurking in the shadows of their marriage.

Fuck. She never stood a fucking chance.

So, with a heavy heart and a mind full of fucking turmoil, he'd packed up his car and hit the road, effectively abandoning his wife and kid like a fucking coward, driving with no destination in mind until he found himself back in the town where it all began.

Frankie's chest tightens at the memory of Lily's desperate pleas, her small face etched with fear as she begs him not to leave. He had thought he was being discreet, tiptoeing past her room, his rucksack slung across his back. Pausing in the dim light, he takes a long look at his daughter, knowing he might not see her again for some time. "I love you, baby girl," he whispers, his voice barely audible as he gently closes her door, the click echoing in the quiet hallway.

He pushes open the door leading to the garage, grateful that he had the foresight to leave the garage door open earlier in the evening. It was a calculated move, part of his plan to make a quiet exit from this house that never felt like a home. He had thought about his grand escape throughout dinner that night, opting to remain silent as he tuned Chelsea out, her words of her displeasure falling on deaf ears as he nodded in agreement, cutting into his meatloaf as he slouches himself down his chair.

Lousy, lazy husband. Neglectful and absent father. The biggest disappointment and regret of her fucking life. Coward. Fucking Coward.

Ah, there it was.

I bet you wish that it was her, huh? I bet you wish that it was her pussy that you were fucking instead of mine, right Frankie? Chelsea would accuse, her hand motioning for him to pass over the mashed potatoes in the same breath.

Hell. She isn't wrong.

He thought his plan was about to unfold smoothly, exhaling a sigh of relief as he set his rucksack in the bed of his truck. Then, he heard it—the unmistakable creak of a door opening, followed by the soft padding of feet on concrete, drawing closer from behind. With a heavy heart, he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming.

"Daddy?" his daughter's sleepy voice broke the silence of the darkened garage. "Where are you going?"

Frankie's heart sank at the sound of Lily's voice, her innocent question piercing through his resolve like a knife. He turned around slowly, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light filtering through the garage.

"Lil, sweetheart," he began, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I have to go away for a little while." His chest tightened with every word, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders.

"Why?" Lily's voice trembled with confusion and fear, her small frame shivering in the cool air of the garage. She took a hesitant step closer, her eyes searching his face for answers.

Frankie knelt down in front of her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-filled eyes. "It's... it's complicated, baby," he said softly, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. "But I promise, I'll come back for you. I love you so much, Lily. You're my everything."

Lily threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she sobbed. "Please don't go, Daddy," she pleaded, her words muffled against his shirt. "I need you."

Tears pricked at Frankie's eyes as he held his daughter close, his own heart breaking with every second that passed. But he knew he had to go, for both of their sakes. With a heavy heart, he gently pulled away from Lily's embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'll always be with you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I promise. I'll come back for you, but you have to stay with Mommy for now, okay? I swear I'll come back for you."

As he stood up and turned away, leaving Lily behind in the garage, Frankie couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed on him like a lead weight. But deep down, he knew that he had to do this—to find a way to be the father Lily deserved, even if it meant breaking both of their hearts in the process.

His throat tightens as he relives that moment, the memory etched vividly in his mind like a relentless nightmare. He can still see Lily's tear-stained face, her eyes pleading with him not to leave, her small hands reaching out for him as he walked away, the way her small form looks back at him as he looks at his rearview mirror, getting smaller and smaller as he drives out of the cul-de-sac like a fucking coward. The weight of her despair presses down on him like a vice, suffocating him with guilt and remorse.

Frankie silently makes his way over to the carport, his father's familiar silhouette outlined against the fading sunlight. He watches as his dad tinkers away, lost in his own world of gears and grease. With a smirk playing on his lips, Frankie leans against the doorframe, soaking in the scene before him.

"When I left, I was saying goodbye to a pair of feet under a fender, and I come home years later and it's like you haven't moved an inch," Frankie quips, his tone laced with affection and a hint of disbelief. "Are you sure you ain't dead under there, old man?"

His dad chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that fills the air. "Nah, still kicking, just like always," he replies, not bothering to look up from his work. "You, on the other hand, look like you could use a good night's sleep."

Frankie rolls his eyes, but there's a warmth in his chest at the familiar banter. Despite everything that's changed, some things remain constant – like the easy camaraderie between a father and son, even after years apart.

Frankie's dad finally emerges from under the car, wiping his hands on a greasy rag as he beams at his son. "Well, well, look who's finally back home, a child of mine finally appears!" he says with a grin, opening his arms for a hug.

Frankie steps forward, enveloped in his dad's embrace, the familiar scent of motor oil and sawdust washing over him. "I'm your only child, Dad, or did you forget?" he teases, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

His dad chuckles, patting Frankie on the back. "No, son, I didn't forget," he replies with a twinkle in his eye. "But you always knew who my favorite was."

Frankie nods solemnly, his eyes squinting in the distance, not wanting his mind to go there. He clicks his tongue. "So-"

"I assume that your sudden appearance has something to do with that wife of yours screaming into my voicemail about you abandoning your family in the middle of the night?" his dad asks, a hint of concern lacing his words as he studies Frankie's expression.

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he meets his father's gaze. "Yeah, Pop," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "Things with Chelsea... they haven't been working for a while now. I couldn't stay there anymore. I had to get out."

His father's expression softens, concern etched into his features. "And what about Lily? How's she taking it?" he inquires, his voice laced with worry as he thinks of his granddaughter.

"Yeah, she was torn up about it," he admits, his voice heavy with sorrow. "But I couldn't just take her. Chels would accuse me of kidnapping, and you know how the courts always side with the mother. I can't risk getting arrested again. Not after what happened last time."

"Well, that seems about something she would do, I guess," his father surmises, "... but what the hell are you doin' back here? I swore the last time I saw you, you told me you would never step your foot back here, especially with what happened with Glory-"

Frankie cuts him off, his jaw tensing as he steels himself against the memories threatening to resurface. "Look, Dad, let's not go there, okay? It's been years, and I've moved on, she's moved on," he says, his tone firm. "I'm just here to figure things out, clear my head. I don't need to worry bout no skeletons in my fucking closet, especially when I know for a fact that she ain't here no more to spook me."

Frankie's dad pauses, his gaze distant for a moment before he speaks again. "You know, son, I always loved her like my own," he says quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "She was like family to us, and seeing her leave was one of the hardest things I've had to witness. It broke my heart, and I know for a fact that it broke yours, too. Maybe if she had stayed... you wouldn't be here standing on my front lawn, hiding from your wife."

Frankie's chest tightens at his father's admission, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for the pain he caused. "I know, Pop," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things had turned out differently."

"Yeah, well... shit happens, I guess." His father slaps his hand on his shoulder once more, motioning towards the house. "Come on, I got a pot of Chili that’s been simmering for the last few hours, I reckon it should be ready right about now. Go grab your shit and come help me set the table after you get settled, alright?"

Frankie nods, giving his father one last smile as he makes his way back to his pickup truck, slinging his military-grade duffle over his shoulder. Groaning, he makes his way up to the old house, the floorboards of the patio creaking as he opens the front door, the smell of his father's chili wafting in the air. He takes in the familiar sight of his living room, still the same as he left it all the years ago.

The same lumpy couch, the imprint of his father forever immortalized in his spot where he watches reruns of Pawn Stars and Columbo, greeted Frankie as he stepped into the living room. The faded fabric sagged under his weight as he lowered himself onto it, memories flooding back with each creak of the worn-out springs.

As Frankie's gaze shifted to the mantle, he couldn't help but notice the familiar photos arranged there. His eyes lingered on the one of him and his mother, her radiant smile captured forever in the frame. Beside it was a picture of you and Frankie as kids, arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, the innocence of youth reflected in your beaming faces.

Frankie's breath caught in his throat as he noticed a new addition to the mantle – a photo of you and his father in front of the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center. His father's arms were proudly slung around your shoulders, and both of you wore wide smiles that reached your eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, capturing a bond that had evidently formed in his absence.

"Well, what are you doing just sittin' there? Table ain't gonna set itself."

Frankie rolls his eyes at that. Yep, shit hasn't changed a bit. "Placemats still in the same drawer?"

"Unless someone moved them, which I highly doubt, being that it's just been me in this house for the last fifteen years," his father replies with a weary sigh, retrieving a steaming casserole dish from the oven and setting it on the stove. "Made some of that cornbread you like so much too," he adds with a wink. "Your Mama's recipe, not that boxed shit."

As they arrange the table settings, Frankie's father casts a cautious glance at him, a hint of concern in his eyes. "So, besides your marriage, How's everything going, son?"

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as he carefully places the silverware beside each plate. "Could be better, Dad. Could be a lot better."

His father's expression softens with understanding. "I heard about what happened. You doing okay?"

Frankie nods, though the weight of his recent troubles still hangs heavily on him. "Yeah, I'm managing. Just trying to figure things out."

His father places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know, son, we all make mistakes. What's important is how we learn from them and move forward."

Frankie meets his father's gaze. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

His father's fork hovers awkwardly over his plate, his gaze fixed on the food as if it holds the answers to questions he dare not ask. "Dig in, for fucks sake. Don't let it get cold."

Frankie senses an opportunity to steer the conversation elsewhere, away from the awkwardness. "Hey, Pop," he begins, trying to sound nonchalant, "I couldn't help but notice that photo on the mantle. Is it new?"

His father pauses, then looks at him, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he answers, "The one from New York? Yeah, it's recent."

"How recent?" Frankie probes further, his curiosity piqued.

His dad casually tears off a piece of cornbread and dips it into his chili, shrugging. "About three months ago," he replies, his tone casual. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just surprised, that's all," Frankie says with what he hopes is casual, stabbing his spoon into his bowl, pushing the pieces of beans and corn around, refusing to make eye contact with his father who is surely gazing back at him with the quirk of his brow. "Wasn't aware that the both of you were still close," he mumbles, the sight of your bright wide smile feeling like death by a thousand cuts straight into his jugular. “Never thought that you would actually leave this fucking place, let alone go to New fucking York.”

"Well, we haven't stopped being close, son. Did you know that she sends me a bottle of tequila every year on my birthday? Noticed the difference in quality as the years gone by, she's doing quite alright up there in the big 'ol apple." Frankie hears his father make a noncommital snort as he continues to eat. “Besides, she asked me to visit her the last time she was in town, and I ain’t getting any younger, have to enjoy life somehow, right?”

You still remembered his father's birthday. Do you still remember his? he wonders silently.

He strains his eye at the label of said tequila bottle, near the center of the dinner table. José Cuervo 250 Aniversario. Twenty-one hundred off the shelf, easy. A soft snort escapes his lips, shaking his head. Well, at least you still remembered your shit.

"You know, she's one of those lawyers that deal with family stuff," his father muses, chuckling to himself as he gets that gleam in his eye when he realizes he has a (stupid, but convenient idea). "Maybe you should-"

“No.”

“I could even be the one to call her, I know she won’t say no to me-“

“Pop-“

“She’s still single, you know.”

“I don’t know what her being single has to do anything with my divorce-“

“She never really got into anything serious, at least she never told me… but I knew. She was too busy for it, you know? Too distracted. Told her she should stop playing ball with the boys and start her own firm back here."

Frankie's father continued, a wistful tone creeping into his voice as he reminisced. "She always had that fire in her, just like her grandma. I remember when she was just a kid, always standing up for what she believed in, never backing down from a challenge. That girl could argue her way out of anything."

Frankie listened quietly, his mind racing with memories of Glory's fierce determination. Despite their differences, he couldn't deny the admiration he held for her unwavering spirit.

"Yeah, well, she's probably forgotten all about this place," Frankie muttered dismissively, though a small part of him hoped it wasn't true.

His father's gaze softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.

"Maybe. But some things, some people, they never really leave you, no matter how far you go."

"Why settle for Fredericksburg when she's killing it up there?" Frankie says bitterly, his frustration palpable. "She's made it clear that there is nothing for her here beside her sister, and her Nana has been gone for the last ten years. This place is a shithole, honestly."

"If it's such a shithole, then why the fuck are you here then?" his father challenges, his irritation evident as he stabs his salad with more force than necessary. "It might not be fancy like New York or as interesting as Tampa, but it's your home, son. It's her home, too."

"Well, I'm glad to know that you still gave a damn about somebody after all these years," Frankie retorts quietly. "... and here I thought I was your actual child-"

"What do you want me to say, huh? I feel like you're trying to insinuate something here, son, so just be a fucking man for once and spit it out!"

"Why didn't you visit me, huh? If you had so much time on your hands, why her and not me?"

"What, so I could bear witness to the shitshow that's your marriage? Do you think I like watching you suffer?" his father shouts, slamming his fork on the table. "Your wife can barely stand being in the same room as me! I ain't gonna waste my time spending it with people who clearly don't want me there."

"Well maybe if you didn't find the need to compare her to Glory all the damn like you did, maybe she would have made my life a fuck of a lot easier, don't you think?"

His father's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and guilt flickering across his features before settling into a resigned acceptance. "Son, I never meant to make things harder for you," he starts, his voice softer now, devoid of the earlier hostility. "But you gotta understand, Glory was special. She was... different. And I know I shouldn't have let that affect how I saw your wife, but I guess old habits die hard."

Frankie's shoulders tense as he absorbs his father's words, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. "Well, you certainly made it clear where her place was in your eyes," he mutters.

His father sighs heavily, his gaze dropping to his plate. "I know, son. And I'm sorry for that," he says, his tone laced with regret.

Frankie's jaw clenches as he struggles to contain his frustration. "Yeah, well, easier said than done," he grumbles, his gaze flickering to the tequila bottle on the table, a stark reminder of the divide between them.

His father rises from the table, his movements slow and deliberate, as if weighed down by the gravity of their conversation. "I'm heading to the bar," he announces quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "Don't wait up for me."

Frankie scoffs under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Typical," he mutters, bitterness seeping into his words. "Always running away when shit gets dicey. Coward."

As his father reaches the door, he pauses, casting a sorrowful glance back at Frankie. "Takes a coward to know one, son," he says softly, the words heavy with unspoken regret. Then, without another word, he slips out into the night, leaving Frankie alone with his thoughts.

With a frustrated grunt, Frankie snatches the tequila bottle from the table, his movements rough and unceremonious. He doesn't bother with a shot glass, instead opting to take several swigs straight from the bottle. The fiery liquid burns as it travels down his throat, but he hardly notices it amidst the tumult of emotions swirling inside him.

"Fuck," he curses. "Welcome home, I guess."

Clutching the bottle tightly, he trudges up the stairs to his bedroom, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders. As he disappears into the darkness of his room, the only sound that fills the empty house is the quiet echo of his footsteps on the creaking floorboards.

Series Taglist:

@ashleyfilm @danaispunk @imdrinkingpedro @yxtkiwiyxt @lilyevanstan1325

@kungfucapslock @critfailroll

[kteezy997]

Daddy’s Boy- Part Seven//t.c.

Warning: some angst

It was an extremely filling breakfast at the local diner, and you had a great time with the two boys. A part of you felt giddy, like you were on a date that your son just happened to join. You felt like something was really blossoming between you and Timmy again.

Timmy had forbidden you to pay the breakfast bill, and Theo was playing the claw machine piled high with stuffed animals nearby. You had an idea that had been brewing during the meal.

“So I was just thinking: maybe tonight Theo and I could stay at your place? Or maybe just him, if you want to spend time with him one on one.” you hoped he would say “Oh no, I would love for you to come, too.”

Timmy's eyes widened, and he didn’t immediately agree.

Your heart dropped and you were instantly embarrassed.

“Oh, well I would love to have you both, but I have plans tonight, actually.” he slid his hand into his pocket, retrieving his wallet to pay.

You nodded, feeling almost sick to your stomach, “I see. What plans do you have?” you shook your head, knowing you had overstepped, and maybe assumed too much. “No, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just…I’m meeting someone for dinner. A coworker. She, um, asked me to dinner. It’s not that big of a deal.” Timmy tried to brush the whole thing off in front of you.

“She? It’s a date? That’s nice, Timmy.” you weren’t being condescending, but you were masking your true feelings.

He looked at you, shook his head, his curls going wild just for a second, “Not really a date. It’s just dinner.”

“I bet she likes you. Everyone likes you.” And I have fumbled you.

“I hate that stupid game!” Theo grumbled as he came back over to the table.

You cleared your throat, looking at your son, “Hey, we don’t say those words, and you know that.”

“Sorry, Mom. It’s just that I never win anything.” the boy frowned, picking up his little cup of chocolate milk and taking a swig.

“It’s okay, bud, you have plenty of toys at home. And I’ll tell you something that’ll make you feel better.” Timmy said, leaning across the table.

Theo perked up, his eyes glued to his father, “What, what is it?”

“You are gonna come spend the night with me tomorrow night.” he grinned.

“Yeah!" Theo cheered, throwing his arms up in the air like he had won a prize from the claw machine after all, "Sleepover at Daddy’s! Can I bring my Hot Wheels?”

"You can bring whatever you want." Timmy said.

You gave him a look from across the table.

"Within reason." he added.

.............

You were a bit of an emotional wreck for the rest of the day. Timmy went home and you talked Theo into spending the night at your parents' house. You needed a break. You needed time to think.

You needed to talk to someone about your situation with Timmy. You had begun to think that you had let him slip through your fingers, and now you were worried that you would only be Theo's mom in Timmy’s eyes and not a potential partner.

You asked your best friend Lucie to come over and she came through with pizza and her listening, compassionate ears. You had told her everything. She had always liked Timmy; she thought that you were a great match together, and she adored Theo.

"I don't know, Luce, what if he goes out with this other woman and they start dating? My life would be ruined having to see him with someone else.” you put your hand to your head, “And it would be another thing that Theo would have to get used to. Things were going so good. I should have just told him that I wanted to be with him."

"Y/n, you have trauma, not necessarily from Timmy, but from the breakup and not having Theo's father around. Of course, you were skeptical about putting yourself back out there, and you were right to not rush something that you weren't sure about. Especially since you also have Theo’s well-being to consider.”

You sighed, knowing that she was right. "But if it was the right thing, why do I feel like this? It's too late to do anything now."

Lucie frowned, "Who says it's too late? You could leave right now, and stop him from going on that date."

You laughed, "Right now? That's crazy! He could be gone already.

"Let's go, let's go right now!" she said, "We can try to catch him." Lucie grabbed your hand, pulling you, and rushing out of your home. "You are going to tell that man that you love him, and you want to raise Theo together and make more babies." she said, matter-of-factly.

"This is insane!" you yelled, getting into your best friend's car and she sped off into the night. You could feel the adrenaline and exhilaration that the moment was bringing.

…….

You knocked the door of Timmy's apartment, not even certain if he was home. All you had was hope. After a moment, your stomach went sour as there was no answer. You decided to give up, as he was probably out on his date.

You swallowed your pride and realized that it was time to come to terms with your relationship, or lack thereof, with Timmy. This night could be detrimental to your life going forward. He could have a new girlfriend, and everything between you and him would wash away with the changing tide. You decided to walk away.

You were walking away from the door, when suddenly, you heard the turning of a the door knob.

"Y/n?"

You turned around quickly, seeing Timmy standing in the doorway that you had just left. "Timmy." you said, going back over to him, feeling a little dazed because you couldn't believe he was actually there. It wasn't too late!

"Are you okay? Is Theo okay, wh-where is he?" the concern in his eyes made you feel terrible guilt. You had caused him to needlessly worry.

"Oh we're fine! Everything is fine! He's with my parents for the night." you assured him. "I just had to come and see you."

"Y/n, what's going on?" his face softened as he looked at you.

"Timothee, I don't, I don't want you to go on this date tonight, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. And maybe I have no right to say that to you, but-"

"I won't go if you don't want me to." he shook his head, gazing down at you, so tenderly.

You couldn't help but smile a little at what he had said, and for the first time, you felt like your feelings and assumptions were validated. "I love you, Timmy. I've always loved you. I love the man you are and the father you are becoming to our son. I think we... should be together." you felt your throat tighten up with the nerves you were feeling.

He grinned, saying, "I hate that we were ever apart." He took your hand, pulling you close to him.

In an instant, you felt warm and tingly in the best way. You were mush when you were this close to him. You felt at home.

"Come here." He put his forehead to yours, wrapping his arms around you and shutting the door behind you. "I love you too." he kissed your lips softly, then parting to add, "And I love our boy more than anything."

You threw your arms around him as well, and you pressed your lips to his. Your heart and your body were on fire. After a moment, you were making out shamelessly.

Timmy picked you up and took you over to the couch.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @rennyd26 @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @sammy-halpert

[urfavlarry]

hihi! can i request a fic where the read is ben and aidens childhood friend and they both like the reader? like how would that go 🎀

Love triangle

Ben & Aiden x childhood friend!reader

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, brief mention of gagging

A/N: the texting part reminds me of a part from a book called call me by your name :0

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🎧🛹 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Your childhood was a wild one. Of course it was! You had Aiden in your childhood! He wasn’t always like that, and you knew. The same with Ben. One lost his sparkle and the other gained it. You couldn’t lie if someone asked if you were some how involved in Aiden dyeing his hair. How could you not! He would be happy so you would do anything for your best friend. You and Aiden were there for Ben when he was going through tough time, you being the one that bought him his headphones to help him calm down. Of course they were there for you too! When you had family issues, personal issues, or even school issues! They were always there for you as if they were your unpaid therapist haha.

Your summers were never dull when with them, Ben being the only reasonable one and got you two out of trouble most of the time. He was the one that you always called at night when something was bothering you, knowing Aiden would probably already be sleeping, his snoring sounding like a damn alarm clock! Aiden however would be there for you during injuries and things like that. He was quite experienced with patching people up since he himself had to do it a lot on himself. Skateboarding injuries suck ass.

And here you were, looking at your phone, two different tabs opened. One with yours and Aidens chats and the other with yours and Bens. Both having the last message as;

— — — — — — — — — — — —

‘I love you Y/N.”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

What were you supposed to do? Yes you liked them but you weren’t sure if you could choose between them. You gagged at the thought of dating the both of them, thinking it would be weird since they are literally cousins. You shake off the thought, groaning and scream into your pillow. Watching the time go by, you get another text from Aiden and Ben;

— — — — — — — — — — — —

‘Hello? Y/N?? Are you there?’

‘Y/N?”

“HELLOOOO?”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

“Y/N everything okay?”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

You open the messages, trying to type out an answer but every single one felt like it wasn’t enough.

‘I need more time.”

You rewrote that to;

‘Could we talk about it in person?’

Nope! Rewriting that to;

‘Maybe we should just stay friends? No hard feelings right?’

FUCKING HELL Y/N, NO!!

‘I love you too, but I just can’t choose between you two, I love you and Ben so so much, you’re my best friends after all, why wouldn’t I? You have been here for me since we were 8, and I appreciate that but I don’t think I can love one and leave the other behind, I’m sorry.’

Yeah, that seems alright. You send the message and send the same thing to Ben, just rewriting his name to Aidens. They both must be so confused, I doubt they told each other about their feelings towards me, knowing the both of them a bit too well. You hear your phone blow up a bit, deciding to ignore them, you start to pack. Oh reader, nobody told you? You’re moving! Out of the state, well.. to a whole new continent! Isn’t that exciting? Well, it would be if this whole thing wasn’t going on. You’re leaving behind the people you love so much, how sad and American high school movie is that? Your mom yells for you to hurry, grabbing the photos and gifts from the group. You look at your now empty room, walking downstairs you send a quick; “Goodbye America<3” with a picture of your suitcase on snapchat and turn off your notifications. Everyone in the group knew, except Aiden and Ben. You walk downstairs, everything packed and ready. Your mom was waiting for you in front of the car, grabbing your things and puts them in the back of the car.

She smiles at you, hugging you and kisses your forehead. “You ready to go ducky?” She asks and you nod, smiling at her. She pats you on the back and you both get in the car. You get comfortable, knowing it would be a long car ride when you see Ben and Aiden sprinting out of their homes. Your dad drives off, Ben and Aiden chasing the car for what felt like hours yet it was only just a few seconds. They looked devastated, heart broken even. But it’s what the three of you needed; a fresh start.

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🎧🛹 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being a ....homewrecker? (🏝 for later)

I'm not sure that's the right word, but whatever. Basically, I (FtM) met this guy (cis M, we'll call him M) over a year ago and we hit it off pretty quick. It was under extremely unusual circumstances, but for the sake of anonymity, I'll be vague and just say: it was 3 AM, Denny's, T.E Lawrence was involved. Now, I'm pretty wary of most guys who go to my school, given I'm trans and unfit to defend myself for various would-break-anonymity reasons, but M is just the best and is incredibly sweet. Days are easier when he's around, even if it's just through a Discord call playing video games. I started harboring feelings for him pretty much immediately, but didn't plan on acting on them for two reasons:

1) I've yet to be in an actual committed relationship (nobody's wanted to stick around, or we both realized quickly we weren't dating material) and I'm terrified of fucking anything up. 2) ....M has a girlfriend. A super long-term one, at that. Like, they met when they were kids, he's been romancing her for ages, they're going to get married and both openly agree they'd be shells of people without each other. Soulmate shit. She's awesome. She's the sweetest, too. Very thoughtful, and soft-spoken, and so so smart. So, no, I didn't plan on doing anything about my feelings. I'm not the type to hide who I am, so I wasn't going to hide anything, but I certainly wasn't going to DO anything either. That's not my place.

Until, one school break, M comes to me and admits he has feelings. And he's wrecked about it. Tells me I'm the only other person he's really had this for, because it's always been his girlfriend. He's a mess. I thought we communicated pretty well, and we'd both made it clear that nothing was going to happen unless Girlfriend knew about it and approved, because she comes first above all else. (I was the one to say this before him, and he was relieved that I understood.) She is priority. She will always be priority, and I totally get that. I'm just some guy, you know? But the conversation ended with me telling him he should probably let her know about this, regardless of how scary that was, because he's an incredibly touchy-feely guy and if I was her I'd like if this was on my radar. New player: M's best friend. very by the book christian guy. Not at all stuck up, but he abstains from worldly pleasures or something like that! He's cool, we're cool.

Except after break, M's best friend makes a few confusing comments, and suddenly, there's now never been a time when just me and M have hung out since. Girlfriend hasn't acted any differently and is still incredibly warm and wonderful, so I'm pretty sure she still doesn't know. I'm a very giving person and like to shower my friends in gifts, so I was undeterred in giving them both valentine's gifts I had bought them months in advance (extra hand wringing on my part.) Girlfriend was ecstatic, loved her gift, and M loved his too. But then he left to go Cry??? Because he hadn't gotten her anything (I'm the only one with a min $ job). I'm not sure where I stand with him or with either of them, and i'm just so confused. I'm 🤷‍♂️ about poly, but with the way they were raised (see M's best friend for reference), their feelings are more muddy about it. I want to talk to M, but being alone in the same room is impossible. I don't know if M has been intentionally making sure we're never alone together, I don't know if Girlfriend knows, or what M wants, what Girlfriend would want or even what I want, because I don't know what's on the table. I don't even know if we're in the same restaurant. Girlfriend is going to find out. M is way too touchy feely even with "supervision". (Granted, he is with everyone, I'm pretty sure I'm just the only person who lets him get away with it.) At this rate, somethings going to give, and i'm honestly just waiting for it to happen now. 🤷‍♂️

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

tom

for the next few weeks, annie's life was very steady and predictable. she saw tom often. they went on dates, and they went back to his apartment and had lots and lots of sex. this was done with very little regard for the fact that alicia was still there -- no longer in the wheelchair, but still so unsteady on her feet that, for instance, tom had to help her in and out of the bath. annie was sure he didn't mind.

annie was loud in bed with tom, and tom was a talker. he loved telling annie what a good girl she was as he jerked off against her tongue.

tom could really fuck. annie could tell he was always paying attention to what she liked and leaning harder into it. every time they fucked she came harder or came more often, except sometimes, when tom sensed her desire to be used, and fucked her with no regard for her pleasure, leaving her to masturbate when he was done. she loved that.

alicia saw annie naked all the time -- annie had kept up with shaving her pussy, just because. but she also saw tom -- tom was not disciplined at all about closing his bedroom door, and so alicia frequently passed by as annie was blowing him or he was railing her hard from behind on the bed.

annie never saw alicia in less than her underwear, but tom told her when she wasn't around, alicia was "almost always" either bottomless or topless.

annie thought about them when, late at night she'd go home to robbie, and if casey hadn't been over to drain his balls, annie would do it on her behalf. what would tom and alicia think of this, she thought to herself as she guided robbie's cock into her pussy. it was becoming a rare thing, though, she and robbie. they both had someone they were getting serious about.

one evening, at tom's, annie and alicia got stoned while tom was out picking up dinner, and alicia asked annie if she'd help her with something delicate. "sure," annie said. "what do you need?"

"my hands are too shaky to shave my pussy properly," alicia said.

"say no more," annie said, taking her to the bathroom.

annie helped alicia shave everything, and she was dressed by the time tom got back.

"what did you two get up to?" he asked as they sat down to dinner.

"annie helped me shave my pussy," alicia said cheerily.

"really?" tom laughed.

alicia stood up and pulled down her jeans and shorts.

"nice handiwork," tom told annie.

"don't put them back on," annie told her. alicia let her shorts and panties drop.

"are we doing bottomless dinner?" tom asked.

annie stood up and pulled down her jeans and panties. "yeah." she said.

"okay," tom said. he stood up and pulled down his pants and boxers.

they laughed, sitting at the table, all bottomless.

"do you and your brother do this at home?" alicia teased.

"not specifically," annie said. "but we see each other naked constantly."

"was it always like that?" alicia asked.

"no," annie said. "i really feel like as a big sister i failed at that when we were teens. like, he should have been spying on my friends and me having lesbian encounters in the shower, right? what good is a sister for otherwise?"

"that was our aunt ellen," alicia said.

"she was the best," tom said.

they told her about ellen, her mom's younger sister, a wild, gay hippie who was in her early 20s when alicia and tom were teens. she'd given alicia weed, and had emailed tom a link to her friend's blog -- the friend was a photographer who took nude photos of ellen and her friends. tom told annie he would visit his aunt's apartment after school, and she would do things like take off her skirt and walk him through her anatomy. "she was never wearing underwear," tom said.

annie asked if she had a nice hippie bush, and tom said "no, no, she was always waxed."

"that's a very specific era of hippie," annie observed. she clocked that everyone was speaking of ellen in the past tense. she'd killed herself before her 30th birthday, alicia explained.

they walked around bottomless after dinner, enjoying the silliness and the sexiness of it. annie and tom made out on the couch and tom got hard in full view of alicia. when annie went to sit on tom's cock, he moved her to the bedroom, though.

that night, after two hard fucks, tom told annie something alicia didn't know about their aunt ellen. a few months before she died, tom said, ellen had invited him to an orgy at her apartment. tom had been 21 at the time, and had gone. "obviously," he laughed.

tom being a man of notable cock size, he'd quickly attracted attention at the orgy, which, he'd told annie -- he'd walked into in full swing already, everyone fully naked. he said there had been about 15 people there -- 6 men, 9 women. ellen had come right up to him at the door and undressed him, and then, as one of ellen's friend's sucked his cock, he'd watched his aunt fuck a man on an ottoman across from him. he said that as luck would have it, most of the men came within a few minutes of his arrival, and so for a brief time he was the only hard cock in the room, and the women had lined up to try his big shaft. he said it was obviously a record he'd never broken -- penetrating nine women in something like 10 minutes.

"wait," annie said, grinning. "all nine?"

tom smiled. "yes, all nine women in the apartment."

he said ellen hadn't even gone last -- she'd ridden him right in the middle of the group. the evening had gone on with lots more fucking and sucking, but tom had primarily spent it with two other women. but, he explained, everyone filtered out at the end of the night, and he'd stuck around. he'd taken a shower with ellen -- both of them were covered in cum. and ellen had asked him if he had ever fucked a girl in the ass, and he said no, and she'd said, "want to try?"

"she was your first?" annie said.

"yeah," he said. "and i lasted like 40 minutes because i'd already cum three times."

"that's so hot," annie said.

"i knew you'd think so," he said.

[pitot-0]

Easter eggs for player's name (spoilers ahead if u wanna discover it urself!)

I'll be including the dialogues when you enter it as the name/nickname

-maleyanderecafe

"Clever, are we? Do you want a round of applause?"

"Well, then you should know how it ends..."

"Don't you?"

-C4, Candy, Lunar

"Haha, what a sick individual."

"Perhaps it's best not to act so innocent..."

"When you know what you are already."

-Alpha, P1

"You just wanted to be accepted into the world, didn't you?"

"To be friends with everyone just like in the stories..."

"But what happens when..."

"You finally break?"

-Beta, P2

"You just wanted to be loved, finally and forever..."

"But they never would have stayed with you otherwise."

"I mean it's not really your fault..."

"It's theirs."

-Scientist

"Kind of a strange name for a prodigy, wouldn't you say?"

"But the guilt you feel is pretty immense..."

"This is all your fault..."

"And it always has been."

-Gamma, P3

"Why do you always pretend to be the villain?"

"You try so very hard to be unlikable and yet..."

"Hahahaha..."

"When will you finally succeed in making sure everyone despises you?"

-Delta, P4

"It must be really sad all alone like that..."

"You want to forget, you really do but..."

"Well, you just know more than you ever should..."

"Maybe like the fact you're playing on a ___ system or something?"

"Haha...just kidding."

-Emil

"With a smile of gold to hide a darkened heart..."

"Doesn't it feel like it's in your nature?"

"First Impressions are everything."

-Thella

"What a noble person to tarnish."

"But then again, it's just as they say..."

"First impressions aren't everything."

-Ryan

Eris: Why would you ever want to be him?

Eris: How disgusting.

-Milo

Eris: That's your perfect creation.

Eris: Let's not tarnish him just yet, alright?

-Desmond

Eris: Why would you want a name like that?

Eris: He's simply too meddlesome for his own good.

-Seph

Eris: Oh dear, that won't work out at all...

Eris: He's only interested in monsters after all...

Eris: And not the kind that you are.

-Valli

Eris: She's a bit too much of a chatterbox, isn't she?

Eris: That's not really your style though...

-Holly

Eris: It's a bad idea.

Eris: She will have your head otherwise.

-Y/N

"What a dull an unremarkable name."

"That doesn't suit you at all."

-Bussy, Fart, Butt

"Hahaha!"

"Very clever!"

"Now watch this!"

game closes

-Dick, pussy, bitch, boobs

"Ah, a prankster, are we?"

"That's pretty funny, I have to say."

"But oh well."

game closes

-Espoir

"My, hello there. It's you. And everyone else."

"You know I heard that using a certain Ashy name might give different results."

"But that's just a simple rumor..."

"Who knows if it's true."

-Ally

"Oh? Ally? How curious."

"It's such an Amiiable name..."

"It's unfortunate you won't live up to it."

-Tsu, Tsumachi

"Oh? It's you."

"Sorry...there's not really any white hair boys in this game..."

"Haha...hope you're not too disappointed."

-Reiynm

"Oho. It's you."

"Such pretty drawings you make."

"I adore them so."

"I wonder just how pretty the thumbnail would be..."

"Haha...it's nothing. Let's continue."

-Lionel

"Ah, so I'm not the only one who is watching."

"I've been watching you for a while."

"So I hope you enjoy."

"Alright?"

-Cherry

"The one and only."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll end up in the attic at some point."

-Mari

"You know, I have something special for you."

"Deep inside of the code..."

"Let's check it out, shall we?"

-Veronica, Jason Dean, Heather

"A song hums in your brain."

"I was meant to be yours..."

"We were meant to be one..."

"Don't give up on me now..."

"Finish what we become..."

"How fitting."

-Strade

"Oh, it's you."

"Well, isn't that something..."

"You'll fit right in!"

-Vance

"Don't you wish you were held more?"

"Don't you wish that someone could hug you...?"

"Even if it drove them insane?"

"So desperately you will crawl to make someone love you..."

-Virgil

"Child of the stars. Child of the galaxies."

"You take on many forms, many shapes..."

"Stay with me, you tell them."

"Force them to stay if you can."

"They have no choice."

-Mychael

"Was it hard living in the forest alone?"

"Some terrifying being that wanted to be loved..."

"Well, don't worry. You'll be loved soon enough."

"By force or by..."

"Suggestion."

-Nick

"...You look awfully hungry."

"Should you get something to eat?"

"An arm or a leg...perhaps?"

-Momo

"A peach grown with a small child that comes out."

"A demon ritual made to get the love of your dreams."

"What will be the ending for this tale?"

-Toma

"A older figure to some, or a cage for others."

"You will be taken whether you like it or not."

"It's a promise."

-Cro

"It's weird... I feel like I remember you..."

"Somewhere in a train going down the line."

"You didn't let me leave."

"Did you?"

-Catsket, Dorian, Aeron

"...A god?"

"...No, the devil..."

"Bloodless Art, perhaps..."

"Remake him into your own."

-Cassanova

"Let's try not to get our hands too dirty."

"We can't eat him up just yet."

-Theo, Riese

"Oh my, you should be careful where you tread."

"I've heard vampires like to come about around here."

"Just be careful when you walk around baring your teeth."

-Ezra

"My, I've heard that you have experience..."

"Let's put that to good use."

"Let's hope it ends up well."

-Krow

"An omen of something to come."

"Be careful of what misfortune you bring."

-Fone

"Don't worry, I can hear you."

"You will be found soon."

"I promise."

-Jack

"A ghost of that who comforts."

"At least, that's what it seems

-Alan

"A song hums in your brain."

"Do you know the Hatchet Man?"

"The Hatchet man, the Hatchet man..."

"Do you know the Hatchet Man?"

"Who lives within the woods...."

"How fitting."

-Louie, Mica, Allar, Josh

"My what a colorful name."

"So pretty and yet unexpected."

"Well now, Valentine."

"Try not to eat his heart out."

-Ren, Redacted

"There's no need for you to try to be someone else."

"You will make them accept you and love you."

"He doesn't have a choice.

-Tenebris, Keith

"Of flowers and monsters."

Keith:

"Such a pretty person...and for what?"

"Being too jealous isn't a good look for anyone."

"Tenebris:

"Ah, be careful that your rage doesn't break them."

"It's unfortunate to destroy something before they're even made."

-Aster

"An angel. Someone who lives for you."

"Well, that might have been what you were suppose to be."

"But now it's time to find someone else to be able to fufill that role, hm?"

-Leumin

"It's raining, it's pouring~"

"Milo is snoring~"

"Hahaha..."

"Let's see if he'll enjoy this rainy weather we'll be putting on then..."

-Koolie

"Ha. Are you some sort of dog?"

"Ah, that's kind of funny..."

"Hopefully this doesn't turn out to be as tasteless as milk."

-Zecharias

"Just as memory serves right?"

"Sometimes you can't find your perfect muse..."

"You have to make them."

-Sal

"The evil white shark of the waters..."

"You just wanted to be loved right?"

"Well..."

"Don't we all?"

-Sol

"A name like the sun..."

"Or so they say."

"When you're simply the kid in the back..."

"Would anyone even notice?"

-Eli

"You were made to be loved, weren't you?"

"Sometimes though, you have to make sure you follow your directive."

"And you just have to do it yourself."

-Zachary, Simon, Seth

"This world isn't really that colorful..."

"At least thats what you think."

"Don't look at it through some colored gaze then, alright?"

-Bo, Dachabo

"You look like such an innocent puppy."

"But it's wrong isn't it?"

"You're more like a wolf who lusts for more."

-Liu

"Watch carefully through that door of yours."

"Your eyes darting about."

"You had always watched him from afar."

-Ashton

"Ah, did you jump from another game or something?"

"Don't forget your garden sheers."

"Maybe you might need them."

-Harper

"Ah, are you taking a break from camp?"

"Well hopefully, you find someone for you..."

"And try not to murder anyone, okay?"

-Morgan

"Hm? Are you a librarian or something?"

"Ah, sounds like a quiet job."

"Well, you can hear a lot of secrets, I'm sure."

-Riker

"Ah, so many different endings, so many different faces."

"Keep it together for your love, okay?"

"You're going to need him."

-Griffin

"Ah, like the bird, huh?"

"Did you guys meet on IndyCent or something?"

"Haha, I jest."

-Dameon, Stalker

"What a fluffy figure you have..."

"You must be good at following the things you like, don't you?"

"Well, let's track him down then..."

"Our Perfect Love"

-Nial

"A parasite bringing someone to death..."

"A blue enigma with a killing blow..."

"Let's hope you can keep him alive..."

"He's going to need it."

-Z

"Ah, a real demonic character, huh?"

"Have you taken interest in someone?"

"Let's keep them closer to you..."

"So they can never leave."

-Gold

"Ah? What a peculiar name."

"You wouldn't perhaps have someone who is in a coma, right?"

"Ahaha. It's just a jest."

-Klein

"How long did it take you to finally get what you pleased?"

"Behind that plastic cover..."

"You'll finally break free."

-Friend

"Ah, what a friendly name you have."

"Despite all that, it's quite ironic."

"After all, being friends with you is rather...unfortunate, isn't it?"

-Adam

"Ah, you have experience hurting others, don't you?"

"Says the one above..."

"I'm sure you will get what you deserve."

-Doc, Dre

"Do you like vengeance?"

"You probably do, don't you?"

"Then please..."

"Enjoy to your heart's content."

-Valk

"May you be watched and possessed..."

"Just as you deserve..."

"I hope it's to your liking."

-Melencholy

"Ah, I remember you. You do your best, don't you?"

"Carried us when we all needed it..."

"Please, let's have fun..."

"Creating our very own perfect love."

-Sox

"A perfect househusband or a perfect wife..."

"Maybe both, maybe neither..."

"Well, I'm sure that this will end with someone being taken care of."

"Whether you'd want it or not."

-Calem

"As I've heard, you really are something."

"You love it when someone watches you from above."

"Like a cat, ready to pounce."

-Meru

"The one of the stars, the one of love."

"I've heard them say you're quite the artist."

"Let's make him into a piece of art, shall we?"

-Techno

"Oh? What a curious name..."

"Like a small, little hamster..."

"Well, they do say that if someone dies next to a hamster..."

"They use their face as bedding."

"That's a fun fact, huh?"

-Madelyn

"I did promise something for you, didn't I?"

"Someone or something that's quite cute or cuddly..."

shows image of a cat

"Someone like this then, hm?"

"Haha. I did promise."

-Jablue

"Can you hear him hiding in the walls?"

"Watching...waiting..."

"There's always someone out there, you know..."

"Begging for your love."

-Bambi

"A deer in the headlights, watching so carefully."

"Will you enjoy the corruption that has been brought?"

"It's more fun when they fall by your hand, you know?"

-Song

"A monster in the making is just as fun..."

"Watch as he twists and turns into his new form..."

"Watch as he hatches into something that's just for you..."

-Flaine

"Ah, welcome back, boss!"

"The cheeriest of all, the one who speaks loudly..."

"May we corrupt the one we love the most..."

"Don't forget to finish your comic..."

-Quiet, Quietaxis

"Did I forget about you?"

"You seem familiar..."

"Like you'd be friends with a cute pink character."

image of kirby

"Kind of like that? I suppose?"

"Haha, that's cute."

-Stranger

"Surprising..."

"I didn't think you'd be here."

"The god of death themselves."

-Manly, Manlybadasshero

"Ah, so it's you. And everyone else."

"I've been wondering if you would pick this up."

"So hopefully you enjoy."

"It would be a shame if you didn't."

whew that's a lot lol

I'd separate the nickname one since there is a lot

[okieedokes]

you can stay with me | don hume x f!reader

summary: don let’s you stay in his room after the party!

word count: 1,141

warnings: none just fluff

Don Hume bows his head shyly to the applause of the crowd below him. It seems that everyone in the auditorium who hadn’t left with their respective sweethearts were joined in celebration of the young athlete.

He steps off the stage to join the group of men who have quickly become his closest friends as they all take turns shaking his shoulders and kissing his head in pride. Becoming flustered by all the attention, Don excuses himself to the bar, hoping another drink will settle his nerves.

Distracted by all the commotion, Don doesn’t notice the girl walking towards him until she crashes into his frame. The drink in her hand splatters the pair, soaking his white button-down and the front of her soft pink dress.

Any feelings or confidence Don had felt prior had been instantly replaced by embarrassment as he steadied the young girl with a hand on her waist.

“I’m so sorry! I’m the biggest clutz!” You exclaim whilst shaking your hands to remove any lingering drops of brown liquid.

Don takes this opportunity to take in the young woman who stood before him. A once pale pink dress perfectly hugs your frame, complimenting the soft curls in your hair and the scarlet tinge of your lips. As your face reddens with embarrassment, Don realises he had been staring in admiration whilst you continue to spew apologies.

“No, it’s okay. It’s my fault, I wasn’t looking.” He reassures, withdrawing his hand in the process.

“I’m sorry. I really should get going before I trip and accidentally kill someone!” You joke, but it fails to fool Don as he catches the tears brewing in your eyes.

“You were great!” You add before running towards the exit as the tears threaten to spill.

Don turns to check that any of his fellow teammates are not watching him, knowing it would be the main topic of conversation at training the next day if they saw him run after a girl.

Once satisfied they were all distracted, he took off in your direction.

Upon leaving the auditorium, the darkness made it difficult to see anything, let alone your slight stature, until he heard faint sobs around the corner of the building. Sure enough, the cries led him straight to you, your arms wrapped around your body that shakes with each sob.

Don raises a gentle hand to your shoulder, careful not to frighten you.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks softly.

“Oh yes, I’m fine. I was just worried about getting caught covered in booze when I returned to the dorms… I’m on a scholarship and need a clean slate to keep it.” You utter between sobs, and Don realises that you both may have more in common than he had once thought.

“I understand; I’m only here because of the team…I’m always worried I’m going to screw it all up.” He confesses, shoving his hands into his pockets nervously.

“Oh, come on, Hume, everyone knows you’re the best stroke Washington’s had in years!” You chuckle; your sweet smile doesn’t go unnoticed by Don.

“Hey, I have clean clothes back at my dorm. If you want to borrow a jacket, or something before you head home?” He doesn’t know why he suggested this, but he’ll do anything not to say goodbye just yet.

“Don’t you want to stay and celebrate?” You sniffle.

“I was about to leave anyways; I got to practice early tomorrow.” Don lies and, without hesitation takes the girl's hand in his as he guides her toward his dormitory.

Upon reaching the dorm, Dons realises his guest may not be impressed by his bare bedroom. However, when he unlocks the door, you enter without hesitation, making yourself comfortable on the edge of his twin bed, feet dangling below.

“So, do you like rowing?” You pipe up as he searches his cupboard for a coat with minimal holes, settling on a fleece bomber jacket.

“Well, I’m getting a job out of it and a room, so yeah.” He mutters, closing the cupboard door behind him.

“I think it’s more than that; I’ve seen how you row.” You tease, a sly smile playing on your lips.

“You’ve been watching me?” Don questions, struggling to believe a girl as beautiful as yourself would ever take notice of him.

“Hard not to.” You admit, smiling softly.

Don notices the goosebumps on your arms and places the jacket around your shoulders. With his tall stature the garment almost swallows you up, but you wrap yourself in it nonetheless.

“I suppose it should be getting home.” You announce after a minute of silence.

“I’ll walk you back.” Don insists, wanting to savour any time left with you.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t; if my hall director sees you walking me home this late, she’ll get the wrong idea.” The girl giggles as Dons face glows bright.

“You can’t walk back alone. It’s nearly midnight.” Don objects, taking your hand in his as if he was pleading. Although he had only known you briefly, the thought of anything bad happening to you made his stomach churn.

“You can stay with me-“ He adds before fully acknowledging the inappropriateness of his offer. To his surprise, your face doesn’t appear disgusted, and instead, you flash your sweet smile.

“What about your bunkmate?” You giggle.

“Oh… I have a feeling he’s not coming back tonight.” Don mutters, glancing over at Shorty’s empty cot.

“Well, if that’s what you want…” You trail off before Don interjects.

“It is,” He assures, Bobby’s encouragement from earlier replays in his head as he bows down to meet your gaze.

You can’t help but lift your hand to brush the loose strands of hair that frame his face back. Don takes this gesture as permission to kiss you.

You intertwine your bodies together as you lower yourselves onto the mattress. You’re unsure whether it’s the liquor or the feeling of Don's strong hands on your body that causes your head to spin as you hesitantly pull away.

“Are you okay?” Don asks, his brow furrowed in concern that he had done something wrong.

“Yeah, my head is sore, probably from all the drinking.” You reply, and he places a calloused hand on your forehead.

“Hmm, you should probably get some sleep,” Don murmurs as he rolls onto his back, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. You tuck your knees up, resting them against his side as he strokes your hair gently.

“Good night, Don…” You’re voice trails off as you fall asleep feeling the safest you’ve been since leaving your childhood home months ago.

Don, who had never been much of a talker, places a soft kiss on your forehead before dozing off himself.

[zqcky01]

Now that I know you don’t mind writing ooc stone… I have so many more ideas holy. I’ll send them in separately whenever so you can write whenever you feel like your having writers block or smth!!

Okay, idk if you write for pebble (stones candy trip demon) but I was reading smth on ao3 and it was like “it’s canon that vinnie and skipp can interact with pebble, that would mean that the reader could interact with him too. And pebble is technically a part of stone” and then the fic was like the reader giving pebble some love. So cute. Maybe smth like that?

If you don’t write for pebble as well as stone, I totally get it and it’s no problem! Maybe just more of the reader making stone flustered 😋

Also, im coming out… as an emoji anon!!! I’ve sent in so many asks that I feel that at this point you should know who I am 😭 is the 🪐 emoji free? If so, may I claim it?

TF IS THAT?

Pebble x Reader

a/n: HI 🪐!! I HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE!! BUT HI!! Anyways, I have never really written for pebble before, so if it sounds a little out of character for him let me know 👹

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

“What is that?” You asked, pointing over to Pebble, who was poking at Stone’s cheek. “That’s Pebble, he’s Stone’s—candy demon or whatever.” Vinnie shrugged. “He’s fucking annoying.” Stone grumbled, pushing Pebble away, who only smirked. “Such a party pooper…” Pebble muttered, before his gaze landed on you. Stone noticed. “Don’t even think about it!” Stone said, shoving his finger at Pebble who giggled.

“Hi.” Pebble said, titling his head to the side as he smirked. You raised an eyebrow. “What are you here?” You asked, poking his cheek. Pebble chuckled. “Your new best friend.” He said, taking your hands into his. “Maybe even more…”

You blinked, your cheeks flushed. “Oh my…” You giggled. “Could you not flirt with them?!” Stone groaned as he shook his head, before he munched on more candy. “So…is this like the better version of Stone?” You asked, looking over to the other three while Pebble was fondling over you. “He appears when Stone eats too much candy.” Vinnie said as she sighed.

“I might just have Stone eat a lot of candy.” You smirked, glancing over to Pebble who smiled. “What a sweet talker!” Pebble said, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“Oh for christs sake..” Stone groaned as he shook his head. “Out of everyone, including me, you pick Pebble? PEBBLE.” Stone said, looking between you two. You shrugged.

“I like his hair.”