#history will say they’re roommates

[denouemente]

what could be considered an odd sight to an outsider is a rather typical one for the residents of perga — the prince, with his wind - tousled locks leading his prized stallion back into the city, accompanied by @satellitewar, his best friend and most TRUSTED companion ( who happens to be sporting the same look — his dark curls were windswept, and he led a white mare through the streets instead ). there were murmurs from some of his citizens as he walked by, but lysander was used to it. that happened regardless of what he looked like walking through the streets. “ i wish we could’ve stayed out longer. ” he turns to alekos, an easy smile on his lips. “ i didn’t think qionnias would tire so easily. WHERE DO YOU WANT TO GO FROM HERE? ”

[okaylikeschaewon]

Thirsty

~7k words, Roommates series, Eunbi, smut

“Yo, far side of the bar, they’re still here.”

“I told you, tonight I’m chilling,” you replied, sipping your drink casually. “Take Mint with you.”

“Come on, there’s three of them and I know the one in the middle is your type.”

“Let it go, Jae,” Mint laughed, coming to your defense. “It was hard enough to convince him to come out tonight. There’ll be other girls.”

“Yeah, but I want that girl,” Jae complained. “And this handsome fucker knows the success rate of a three versus three is way higher than a two versus three.”

“I can’t lie, the friend in that little black dress is pretty fucking hot,” Mint added. “But you’d probably fumble this one anyway, you’ve been struggling tonight.”

“Man, I didn’t give a shit about that last girl, she wasn’t even my type,” Jae waved his hand in front of his face. “This girl, though? No chance of fumbling this one. I need to talk to her.”

“What, we’re not good enough for you anymore?” Mint picked up his own drink and took a sip. “You know, you’re allowed to go out and just chill with the boys from time to time.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” you agreed with your friend. “We rarely go out and don’t talk to girls.”

“Yeah it’s rare because your ass hates fun now,” Jae retaliated. “Gotta get you to a knitting club or some shit with all that ‘I refuse to find a girl in a club’ shit you’ve been spewing lately.”

“It’s true, I know I’m not finding the one in a club, especially not one like this,” you laughed while waving Yujin, one of the bartenders, over to get you another drink.

“He has a point,” Mint agreed. “It literally hasn’t worked out for any of us, and Jae you definitely have the most experience in that regard.”

“Also look, your three-man just turned into a two-man,” you commented while accepting your drink from Yujin and handing her a tip. “My girl just ditched them.”

“Perfect, come on MInty, let’s go,” Jae laughed. “You said you liked that little dress.”

“Great,” Mint sighed. “Let’s go add another failed two-man to the history books.”

The three of you laughed together before all of you picked up your drinks.

“Cheers boys,” you held your glass up, laughing as the three of you hit your glasses together. You took a hefty sip of your own while your friends finished theirs. “If the third girl comes back, I’ll step in. Good luck.”

“We don’t need luck where we’re going,” Jae puffed his chest out in confidence.

The two of them walked over to the girls while you watched, leaning against the bar. They actually seemed quite receptive, both of them were laughing at something Jae said. Within minutes, Mint had his arm around the girl he was interested in, and she could not stop staring at him. Jae’s girl was a bit more reserved, but she wouldn’t stop laughing at whatever he was saying.

“I feel like I should warn you,” Yujin leaned over towards you. “That girl your buddy is talking to is roommates with the girl he was talking to last weekend.”

“Oh shit, for real?” you burst out laughing. “Well, I guess he’s in for a surprise if it works out. What about the girl in the dress?”

“Never seen her before, but she seems incredibly sweet,” she answered. “What about you, couldn’t find a girl tonight?”

“What do you mean, I’m talking to one right now.”

“That doesn’t count, it’s my job to talk to customers.”

“Is it also your job to give your number to customers?” you smirked.

“You might as well delete it with how often you text me,” Yujin replied without missing a beat. “And if you say that any louder I will get security to carry you out of here.”

“Don’t worry, I was about to get going anyway. Could you close my tab?”

“Wow, calling it early tonight?” Yujin asked while tapping away at the screen.

“Yeah, I’m exhausted,” you answered. “Plus, it looks like those two are going to be pretty busy,” you motioned towards your friends. Jae had his tongue down his girl and Mint looked like he was absolutely in love with his.

“I guess you’ll have to get a drink with me another night,” Yujin held your card out for you.

“I still gotta finish this one,” you motioned towards your half emptied drink. “You could join me.”

“We agreed that when we eventually get a drink together I’d have to be on that side of the bar,” Yujin replied.

“You’re right, in that case,” you picked your drink up and downed it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Have a good night,” Yujin leaned over the bar to give you a quick hug and kissed you on the cheek.

Before leaving, you quickly stopped by the bathroom. As soon as you walked in, a pair of girls left one of the stalls together, their clothes making the most feeble attempt at covering their bodies. The first girl was about to walk right past you, but she stopped when her friend paused.

“Why are you in the girl’s bathroom?” she asked you, clearly a little bit tipsy, or perhaps a lot tipsy.

“This is not the girl’s bathroom.”

“It’s not?” she gasped, eyes wide, looking around.

“No, it’s not,” you chuckled, carefully with two fingers adjusting her strap so that it was on her shoulder properly. “So, I guess I should be asking you, why are you in the men’s bathroom?”

“I was just letting my friend eat my ass,” the girl hiccuped.

“Wony, what the fuck,” her friend came back and grabbed her arm.

“Let go of me!” she squealed, yanking her arm away. “I found the love of my life.”

“Well, the love of your life needs to go piss,” you chuckled, turning to walk away from her.

The girl, Wony, stuck her arm out to stop you. Her friend looked so defeated, standing there and watching the events unfold.

“Let me hold it for you,” Wony mumbled as she fell forward.

“Whoa there,” you caught her in your arms, holding her up and stopping her from hitting her head against the wall. “How about we take a seat for a second.”

“I want to sit… on your cock…”

“Alright! That’s enough!” her friend came and grabbed Wony, dragging her away from you. “It’s time to leave.”

“Do you need help?” you asked her friend as she started dragging Wony away.

“It’s- fine-” she gasped as Wony broke free of her grip again and ran into you.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” she moaned as she latched onto you again. “Please eat my ass.”

If only this girl wasn’t borderline blacked out right now, because she was fucking gorgeous. It was a shame, but you weren’t going to even consider accepting her advances in this state, that wasn’t your cup of tea. You very carefully, while watching your hand placement, tried to get her off you, but it was futile - you decided just to carry her out of the bathroom while her friend watched.

“Here, sit down for a second,” you placed her gently onto one of the empty couches where her friend sat down next to her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t leave me,” she whined, reaching out for you with both hands.

“I’m coming right back,” you grabbed both of her hands in yours and shook them playfully. “I promise.”

You couldn’t deny it, the way she nodded was quite endearing. She was still incredibly pretty, but now she was also absurdly cute. Once you felt confident that the girl, Wony, wouldn't fall over, you walked over to the bar.

“She’s cute,” Yujin teased, handing you the glass of water she already knew you came to get.

“She’s drunk,” you shook your head before thanking Yujin and heading back to the girls. Once you arrived back at the table, you handed Wony’s friend the glass of water since Wony was barely conscious at this point and holding a glass would not be in her best interest.

“I appreciate the help,” the friend said, accepting the glass and placing it on the table before reaching her hand out to you. “My name’s Gaeul, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied after giving her your name and shaking her hand. “And don’t worry about it, just make sure she drinks some water.”

“Also, what she said about me earlier, that was just a joke,” Gaeul added sheepishly.

“Even if it wasn’t, I’m not judging. That’s your business, not mine,” you replied casually. “Are you guys going to be alright getting home?”

“Yeah, we should be fine, some of our friends are by the bar, we came together,” Gaeul answered kindly. “Thank you again!”

“No problem, have a lovely night, and make sure she drinks that at some point,” you replied warmly before getting up.

Just as you were about to go back to the bathroom, a girl standing by the bar caught your attention. There were pretty girls everywhere, but this one stood out well above the rest. She was perfect - absolutely flawless. Everything from her posture to her expression, the way her outfit accentuated her beautifully fit body, showcasing her phenomenal rack, you just knew you had to talk to this one. You saw her separate from the group briefly as she was putting her empty drink back on the bar and decided that you needed to take the opportunity.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you look like someone who I need to buy a drink,” you opened with as you leaned against the bar next to the girl.

“Oh do I?” she smirked, turning to face you properly.

It was incredibly difficult to keep your eyes up; She probably had the best tits you had seen in your entire life. Luckily for you, her face was also unbelievably pretty - this girl was unreal - so it wasn’t much of a punishment to keep eye contact with her. This girl really had it all.

“Yes, you absolutely do,” you waved Yujin over and held up two fingers, pointing to the glass the girl had placed on the bar and mouthing ‘please’.

Yujin nodded with a smile and began making the drinks.

“I appreciate the gesture,” the girl smiled while reaching into her purse. “But I think I’m the one who owes you the drink. I saw you taking care of Wonyoung over there.”

“Oh, you know her?”

“We go to school together,” she explained. “She’s actually my roommate.”

“You guys go to-” you began while gesturing towards the direction of your school when Eunbi interrupted you.

“Yup, we heard all the students love this club. It’s our first time here.”

“Wait, you’re not a freshman are you?”

“We’re both juniors, but neither of us lived in dorms before,” she laughed. “You?”

“Senior, been in dorms since the start,” you answered.

“I guess that means you come here often?”

“You could say that. Also, I didn’t help your roommate to get a free drink out of it,” you reached forward and blocked her from taking her card out of her purse. “How about you let me get these since I’m the one who offered, and you can thank me by telling me your name.”

The girl smiled at you, slumping her shoulders in defeat, accepting that you weren’t going to allow her to buy. She took the glass from your hand with a little nod of thanks while you began reaching for your card.

“Don’t worry about it, this one’s on the house,” Yujin winked at you before walking off.

“Would you look at that, now you don’t have to feel guilty,” you smiled, holding your glass up for her.

“So, I guess that confirms you’re a regular,” the girl chuckled while tapping her glass against yours and taking a sip with you. “My name is Eunbi.” 

“Alright Eunbi, explain something to me,” you put your glass down.

“What’s up?”

“How is it that I’ve never seen you before?”

“Maybe you have.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t forget it if I had,” you smiled at her.

“Well, it’s a big school,” she giggled, looking away for a second in embarrassment. “I was mostly a go-home-after-school type of girl.”

“Then I guess I should just be grateful that I ran into you tonight.”

“You definitely should, I’m not really one to go out like this.”

“Could have fooled me,” you looked her outfit up and down. “You definitely know how to dress the part.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” she smiled again, once again slightly embarrassed by the compliment. “Unfortunately, I think my friends are trying to leave.”

“I don’t see why that has to stop us from talking.”

“What are you implying, you want to stay here?”

“Here, somewhere else,” you answered. “Wherever I can talk to you some more.”

“Well, it is kinda loud here,” Eunbi looked around the club.

“My place is pretty quiet right now,” you commented while looking over at Mint who had his tongue down his girl’s throat now. “And it doesn’t look like my roommate is going to be bothering me tonight.”

“You’re going to invite me over after just meeting me?” Eunbi asked. “That’s a bit quick, no?”

“I’ve been enjoying your company so far and I’d love to get to know you better,” you replied with a smile before pulling out your phone and texting the group chat to let them know you were leaving. “But if you’re not comfortable with that, wanna at least put your number in my phone before we forget?”

“Depends, are you texting your girlfriend right now?”

“Girlfriend?”

“I don’t know, gut feeling,” Eunbi explained.

“Here,” you held your phone out to her. “I got nothing to hide, I was texting my friends to let them know I was leaving.”

Eunbi took one look at your phone and immediately bent over laughing.

“Condom broke, we awoke?”

“Blame my friend Jae for that one,” you smiled at her reaction.

“That has to be one of the best group chat names I’ve ever seen,” Eunbi giggled before looking at your phone again. “Alright, you can have my-” she stopped speaking abruptly and her cheeks turned bright pink. “Prettiest girl you’ve ever seen?” she mumbled, looking up from the phone.

“What, I tell my boys how it is,” you replied casually. “I never lie to them.”

Eunbi gave you back your phone and turned around to run over to her group of friends who were still standing there watching her from a few feet away. She began telling them something that earned you some peeks from a few of them. Wonyoung was asleep on Gaeul’s shoulder at this point, the latter flashed a smile at you while Eunbi talked. After about a minute or so, she quickly scurried back towards you.

“You’re not going to murder me, right?”

“Probably not,” you answered.

“Good enough for me,” Eunbi giggled. “Alright, I accept your offer.”

“Are you sure your friends are cool with this?” you asked, staring at Eunbi’s gorgeous eyes while in your periphery you could see her friends all staring at you. “I feel like I’m the one who should be worried about getting murdered.”

“You’ll be fine if you kiss me.”

“If I kiss you?”

“Yeah, they’ll probably trust you then,” Eunbi stared back into your eyes - she was serious.

“Only one way to find out,” you replied, slowly leaning forward.

The skill of Eunbi’s lips was not something you were prepared for. You closed your eyes, cupping her face in your hands, relishing in the sweet taste of her strawberry lip gloss, enjoying the enthralling nature of her soft lips. You couldn’t even hear the music anymore, in your mind the only thing left in this world was the girl you were making out with. As you felt her hand on the back of your neck, you moved one of your hands to her back, holding her warmly.

Once the kiss finally ended and you two separated, Eunbi held her face in front of yours, staring deeply into your eyes. She was adorable, absolutely the prettiest girl you had seen in your entire life. Her round eyes, expressionless face, the way she held herself right in front of you.

“Did it work,” she asked, never breaking eye contact.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going to check?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t stop looking at you.”

She kept staring back, but now she was smiling and her cheeks were turning pink again.

“Whatever, it was just an excuse to kiss you anyway.”

“You don’t need an excuse to do that.”

“Do you ever stop flirting?” she asked.

“How about we start walking and you can find out for yourself,” you suggested, holding your hand out for her to take.

“We gotta finish our drinks first though,” Eunbi picked your glass back up and placed it in your outstretched hand.

“Let's do it properly then.” you suggested, holding your arm up slightly.

Eunbi wrapped her arm around yours, interlocking your arms at the elbows. She smiled brightly at you before bringing her drink up to her mouth. The two of you started drinking together. You finished your drink a few seconds before her and watched as she scrunched up her face trying to catch up. With your arm locked with hers still, all you could do was watch patiently as the adorable girl chugged her drink until she successfully finished it.

“Definitely not your first time,” you chuckled, taking her glass from her.

After placing her glass on the bar you grabbed a couple of napkins which you held out for her so that she could wipe her lips. She, however, had a different idea, and instead of accepting the napkins stuck her face out and pouted her lips at you. You smiled again, using the napkins to wipe her lips for her - this earned an eruption of little screams and squeals from her friends which you ignored. Eunbi grabbed your hand with a smile and pulled you out of the club without looking back at her friends a single time.

“Finally, I can hear my own thoughts,” you sighed as the brisk night air hit your skin.

“And what are those thoughts telling you?” Eunbi asked while letting go of your hand and spinning in a circle playfully.

“The same thing my eyes are,” you responded while looking over at Eunbi. “That you look even more stunning under the moonlight than I could have ever imagined.”

“I guess that answers my question,” Eunbi laughed, stumbling slightly before balancing herself.

“You’re not also drunk, are you?”

“Oh please, I can handle my liquor way better than Wonyoung,” Eunbi giggled, swaying slightly as she stood there with her hands on her hips. “I’m barely tipsy.”

“How many did you drink tonight?” you asked while walking up next to her and grabbing her hands.

“We were taking shots earlier…” she squinted her eyes as she was trying to remember. “Three? Four? I don’t know.”

“Plus at least two drinks.”

“That’s your fault,” she whined, pouting again. “I was fine until that last one.”

“It was your idea to chug it.”

“Oh yeah,” she giggled before latching onto your arm. “I’ll be honest, I think I’m feeling that last one hit me…”

“Have you been drinking water? Want me to get you some?”

“No it’s fine, I’ll drink some at your place. You have water right?”

“Of course I have water,” you chuckled.

“Then let’s go!” Eunbi giggled again, hopping cutely. “I’m getting cold.”

“We could grab a cab if you wanted,” you suggested as you started walking.

“It’s like a five minute walk to dorms, we’re not getting a cab,” Eunbi dismissed the idea, shivering slightly as she held onto your arm.

“Here,” you lifted your arm up and pulled her closer to your body, wrapping your arm around her shoulder. “Sorry I don’t have a jacket tonight, no drama-esque scene for us.”

“It’s alright,” Eunbi smiled as she held onto your body. “This’ll do. You smell really nice, by the way.”

“Just give me a warning if you’re about to throw up, I like this shirt.”

“Real funny,” Eunbi rolled her eyes at you. “I told you, I’m just tipsy.”

“So what’s the occasion tonight that led to you getting ‘just tipsy’, Friday night?”

“Wony passed some stupid quiz or something and wanted to go out,” Eunbi answered, the little girl shivering slightly. “Friday night is not enough to get me to go out, I told you I don’t do this often.”

“Celebrating a quiz? Wow, you guys sure are good friends.”

“I kinda owed her for something, otherwise I meant it when I said I really don’t go out like this very often.”

“With how quick you were to take any excuse to get out of there, I almost believe you,” you chuckled, giving her just a little bit of a squeeze to let her know you weren’t being serious. “Or maybe you just didn’t want to deal with your drunk roommate.”

“She’s a bit of a brat at times,” Eunbi giggled. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my roommate.”

“I wasn’t questioning it.”

“Good, with how much we do for her, you better not question it.”

“How much you do?”

“Look,” Eunbi giggled. “That girl is as bi as they come, I never know if she’s going to bring a guy or a girl back to the dorm. Thank God we have separate bedrooms.”

“Ah, so that’s what you meant by you owed her.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Hey look, it’s fine if you’re in a relationship with your roommate,” you teased.

“Me? No,” Eunbi laughed. “Our friend Gaeul on the other hand, she’s been coming over almost every night lately.”

“Oh yeah?” you replied, hoping she would elaborate.

“Wonyoung is fucking shameless, I swear,” Eunbi giggled while shaking her head. “She had Gaeul… this might be tmi…”

“No such thing as tmi in my eyes.”

“Look, we’re touchy and all that, I even kissed her tonight as a dare,” Eunbi continued. “But Gaeul… Wonyoung has her do everything to her.”

“Should I even ask?”

“All I’m saying is that the mess they left in the room tonight before we came out is part of the reason why I’d rather go back to your place,” Eunbi giggled.

“I hope you’re not expecting my place to be pristine, I wasn’t expecting company tonight.”

“As long as there aren’t plugs and beads all over the room, it’ll be better than ours.”

“Who said there wouldn’t be?”

“I… guess I didn’t account for that,” Eunbi giggled again. “Which floor are you on?” she asked as your building came into view.

“Third.”

“Oh! Same as us!”

“Wait, you’re also in this building?”

“Yeah,” Eunbi answered enthusiastically. “In the girl’s wing, of course.”

“Thanks for confirming, I was totally questioning that part,” you replied while scanning your ID to open the door. “Now I’m even more upset that I haven’t run into you before.”

“Well, now you know I’m only one hallway away from you, no more excuses,” Eunbi walked through the door you held for her.

After a short elevator ride and walk, you found yourself at your door. You opened it up, holding it for Eunbi to enter before following her into the room.

“Oh wow, this is my first time in a guys’ room,” Eunbi commented while looking around. “It looks just like ours.”

“Were you expecting something different?” you chuckled while walking past Eunbi towards the kitchen. “Here, drink this,” you poured her a glass of water which she accepted graciously.

“Thanks, that walk honestly sobered me up quite a bit.”

“Good, unless you wanted to stay tipsy,” you replied. “All we have right now is some shitty rum or some shitty vodka.”

“I’m alright, thank you though,” Eunbi smiled before putting the empty water glass down. “Can I see your room?”

“Yeah, of course,” you walked over to your bedroom door and entered your room. “Wanna sit?”

“Sure.”

“Go ahead,” you motioned towards your bed. “Mind giving me a second, I still really need to run to the bathroom.”

“No worries,” Eunbi smiled at you before looking around your room, admiring the various vanity items.

In the bathroom, you took a quick piss and then quickly reapplied some cologne. You checked your hair in the mirror, made sure everything looked good before heading to the kitchen where you grabbed yourself a glass of water, chugging it before heading back to your room.

“Did you want anything by the way, a drink-” you froze when you entered the room and saw Eunbi had taken off her top, leaving her in just a blue bra. “Oh.”

“Come sit,” Eunbi patted the bed next to her where you walked over and sat down. “You deserve some credit.”

“What for?” you asked, sitting down on the bed next to Eunbi, your eyes no longer able to avoid her tits.

“Not once have I caught you looking at my chest tonight,” Eunbi giggled. “Come on, I’m not stupid.”

“I gotta admit, you haven’t been paying enough attention,” you chuckled. “They’re too fucking beautiful, I couldn’t help myself.”

“At least you’re honest,” Eunbi smiled, leaning closer towards you. “You know, you’re allowed to touch them.”

“Quick to the point, are we?”

“I can put my top back on if you want,” Eunbi commented with an expression of fake concern.

“That won’t be necessary.”

The way her gorgeous smile began shining as soon as you grabbed her tits in your hands couldn’t be compared to anything. Nothing was hotter than a girl with self-confidence, and Eunbi absolutely knew what she was packing. Her tits were so fucking perfect, and they felt as amazing as they looked. So soft, molding into your fingers and you squeezed and squished them in every direction.

“Kiss me again and I’ll take the bra off, too,” she whispered, replacing her smile with the most seductive gaze humanly possible and opening her mouth slightly.

There wasn’t even a second of hesitation before you pressed forward with your mouth. You kept one hand squeezing her tits while the other lowered down towards her hip. Once again that delightful taste of strawberry blessed your mouth as Eunbi wrapped her arms around you, feeling up and down your toned back.

She was so fucking irresistable, you couldn’t detach from her body. You had to keep kissing her, you had to keep feeling her, you had to have her. She was too beautiful for this world - for all you knew, this was just a dream. Who fucking cared, you’d never wake up from this if it was, and that would be alright.

Without even stopping the kiss, Eunbi began reaching behind her back to unstrap her bra. You quickly reached around her body to help her, unstrapping it immediately and tossing it to the side. It didn’t even matter that her tits were completely out now, you didn’t want to stop kissing her yet to take a proper look. Slowly, you pushed forward until Eunbi was laying on her back, both of her hands now cupping your face while both of your hands were groping her chest.

This continued for a few more minutes, both of you were addicted to the other. Eunbi now had her leg bent and wrapped around your hips, you had one hand on the back of her thigh holding it up. Your other hand was still pressing into her soft tits, rubbing her nipples from time to time. Your hand slid up the back of her thigh, and for a bit you ended up palming her soft ass.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” Eunbi moaned from beneath you. “And you’re really fucking hot.”

“Right back at ya,” you smirked before shoving your mouth into her neck, kissing her clavicle.

“I don’t usually do it on the first night,” Eunbi moaned, grabbing your hair and pushing your head lower so that you were squished between her tits.

“That’s fine,” you gasped for air before taking her nipple into your mouth, sucking the nub until it was covered in your saliva. “No pressure.”

“I can make an exception tonight.”

“Should I grab a condom?” you asked excitedly before moving your mouth to her other tit and showing it the same love.

“No need, I’m on the pill,” Eunbi let go of your head and started pulling her skirt down.

“Leave it,” you insisted, sliding down your bed and reaching your hands up her skirt. “May I?”

She nodded with a giggle, loving your little act of chivalry, bending both of her legs so that her knees were up and bringing her hands to her tits, playing with them aggressively. As soon as her panties came off, you shoved your face between her legs. Just like that, within minutes of getting her in your room, you had your face in front of this dime piece of a girl’s pussy. A sharp inhale filled the room as you planted a kiss on her pussy - pure ecstasy to your ears.

Instead of sucking on her beautifully shaved pussy, you decided to slow it down, tease her a bit. You pressed your lips against her soft inner thigh, holding against her skin for a few seconds before kissing. Then, the same on the other leg, alternating with each kiss, moving closer and closer to her pussy. Once you couldn’t get any closer without actually placing your mouth on her folds, you started licking circles around her.

“Stop fucking teasing me,” Eunbi whined, squirming her lower body incessantly.

The corners of your lips curled upwards. You were going to have her begging soon, but you also needed a proper taste of Eunbi’s sweet pussy. With all the enthusiasm in the world, you gave her a singular lick from the bottom of her pussy all the way up to her clit where you sealed her clit with your lips. With the slight tang of her pussy now on your taste buds, you started jabbing your tongue against her clit.

“Oh yeah,” she began moaning before her moans swapped to screams as you shoved, without warning, two fingers up her pussy. “Oh fuck!”

Her entire lower body lifted off the bed briefly as you pushed two knuckles deep into her pussy, but the real surprise came when you felt her pussy squirt right onto your chin. You sat up on your knees, pulling your dripping fingers out of her snatch.

“Sorry,” Eunbi gasped, her chest heaving. “I should have… warned you…”

“Don’t apologize,” you wiped your chin with the back of your hand before ripping your shirt off and tossing it to the side. “That was really fucking hot.”

Eunbi didn’t have any time to feel embarrassed because as soon as your shirt came off you had shoved two fingers up her vagina again, this time thrusting them back and forth aggressively while your other hand started rubbing circles against her clit. It was sensory overload, you could tell by the way her face scrunched up in raw, unfiltered pleasure, and also by the droplets that began flinging out of her.

“Come on,” you grunted, speeding up your thrusting even more.

Suddenly, you got what you were looking for. Eunbi began gushing, spraying all over your arm, your chest, and your bed. She still had her eyes closed, but as her body once again lifted off the bed, she kept squirting all over anything that dared exist in front of her pussy. Once she stopped, you pulled your fingers out, and that led to a gush of liquid spilling out of her. Without missing a beat, you shoved your face between her legs and began lapping up her mess.

“Oh my fucking God,” Eunbi sobbed, her pussy literally trembling against your tongue. “Please.”

It was so fucking addicting. You couldn’t stop, you needed to suck every drop out of her pussy. You wanted to drown in her, your brain wasn’t working anymore. Eunbi’s wet pussy was your salvation. There was no way to know it now, but you’d be thinking about sucking Eunbi’s pussy for the next week.

“Stop,” she cried out, grabbing your hair with her hands. “I can’t…”

With her hands threatening to pull your hair out, you finally obeyed her wishes and held your face still. Other than the occasional lick of your tongue, you simply enjoyed the pulsatile squirts coming out of Eunbi’s pussy directly onto your chin. Once she finally stopped, her squirts being reduced to the occasional dribbles of fluid, you pulled back and sat up on your knees.

“You’re really fucking hot,” you said nonchalantly, wiping your chin again with the back of your hand.

“Come here,” she moaned, reaching her arms out for you.

As soon as you moved forward, she began kissing you again. Her hands found your buckle, undoing it swiftly and unbuttoning your pants. She fumbled around your crotch some more until her hand made it down your underwear, pulling your cock out.

“Want me to suck it first,” she whispered into your mouth between kisses, stroking your cock gently.

“Fuck that,” you spread her legs wide for you to get closer.

“Hold up,” Eunbi got up and turned you around so that now you were laying on your back with her on top of you. “Let me.”

Eunbi, her body right above yours, began rubbing her pussy with her palm before grabbing your cock and spreading her fluids along your shaft. She held your cock with one hand, lining it up with her pussy, and slowly started to lower herself onto your cock. You grabbed her skirt, lifting it up just in time to see her drenched pussy lips spread to accept your cock. She lowered herself lower and lower, pausing once she was all the way down, scrunching her face in delectation as her pussy adjusted to your size.

The girl knew how to move her hips, clearly showing off as she started moving up and down your shaft slowly. Her soaked pussy moved effortlessly as she started bouncing up and down your cock. Your hands found their way to her ass, gripping it tightly while she did all the work, working your cock like an expert.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you grunted, starting to push your hips into hers.

Eunbi started leaning forward, her massive tits hanging in front of you, shaking and jiggling each time she bounced on your cock. They were beautiful, shining as her efforts began leaving a thin layer of sweat all over her soft skin. She was beautiful. The way her face scrunched up as she felt each inch of your cock, she was irresistible. How could a girl be this perfect?

It was overwhelming. You didn’t have it in you to lay there, you knew you had to properly fuck this girl soon or else she was going to make you erupt with how good she was at moving her hips. Your hands left her ass and slid up her back, pulling her tits closer to your face until your nose was pressed between them. With your arms hugging her tightly, you stopped holding back.

“Oh fuck yes!” Eunbi screamed at the top of her lungs as soon as you started slamming your hips towards the roof. “Uh!”

It was such a blessing knowing most of your hallway would be out tonight, sparing you from dealing with the repercussions of a noise complaint, because Eunbi was loud. Equally as loud as her screams was the sound of your body slapping against her sweat-coated skin. At this point you had no idea if it was her sweat coating your legs or the absurd amount of fluid this goddess of a woman had squirted on you tonight.

Everything became a blur of wetness, tits, and Eunbi’s screams. The profanities Eunbi were shouting into your room would surely get you expelled if your school could hear them. If it wasn’t a moan or a cry, it was a mixture of the most lust-driven mumbles of salaciousness. Even with how loud Eunbi’s voice was, she could barely be heard over the wet slapping of her pussy getting fucked.

As much as you wanted to switch up the position, you couldn’t. You physically could not detach your face from Eunbi’s tits - it was not possible. Not that it really mattered, Eunbi was making it very clear that she was enjoying this. In fact, she could not have made it any more clear than she already was, especially with how her body had started squirting all over your cock now. The only disappointment was that as you felt Eunbi’s wetness coating your crotch, you knew you were quickly approaching your limit.

“I’m close,” you huffed into Eunbi’s tits.

There was no way to be sure if Eunbi heard you, not until at least she started bouncing her hips up and down with every bit of enthusiasm in her little frame. She didn’t just want you to cum in her, she wanted to make you cum in her - It was out of your control now. There was no stopping it now, you felt the pressure, the sensation, the pleasure all building up in your cock.

With your hands now squeezing onto Eunbi’s ass for dear life, your face pressed as far into her tits as it could go, you held on for dear life as your cock blew its load into her pussy. She kept moaning, kept moving her hips, despite it being impossible for her to know you were adding to the mess of fluids in her pussy. The only indication would have been the strained moan you let escape your lips as your cock pumped again and again, emptying itself into her.

With one final pump, your entire body went limp. Your hands fell to your sides, and all you could do now was breathe deeply against the softness of Eunbi’s tits. She lay on top of you for a bit longer in silence, moving her hips just enough to feel your cock still inside her as it also began to relax.

“Holy fuck Eunbi,” you broke the silence, trying and failing to sit up.

She didn’t even reply, she simply giggled as she lifted herself up. Slowly, she moved up and let your cock fall over, completely coated in a mess of cum and all of Eunbi’s bodily fluids. Eunbi reached past your body, once again giving you a beautiful view of her massive tits hanging down towards your face, and grabbed a few tissues. She wiped between her legs, not that it mattered with how much of a mess everything was now, before standing up, leaving you on your bed gasping for air.

“Do you mind if I borrow a shirt?”

“Yeah go ahead,” you panted, your chest heaving up and down with your eyes closed.

“Can I take this one?” Eunbi asked.

She looked so embarrassed when you opened your eyes to see her holding the shirt you were wearing earlier.

“Sure,” you shrugged, sitting up in your bed, finally catching your breath. “Bring it back whenever, you know where I live.”

“I promise I will,” Eunbi smiled, slipping the shirt on. It was too big for her, and she looked adorable in it. She quickly checked her phone before giving you a disappointed look “I’m really sorry to rush off like this. I would have loved to spend more time, but I need to check up on Wony.”

“Don’t worry about it at all, go take care of your roommate. I’ll see you soon?”

“Abso’ fucking ‘lutely you will, especially after that.”

---

A/N:

Um, Eunbi is really hot. I just HAD to write her at some point. Initially I planned to make this like a 15-20k word fic, but after talking to some other writers I decided to break it up for the sake of readability (yes, that means I have already planned out the plot for the next two parts, and yes I have already started working on them). I could have written it all out and edited it properly, but that dopamine rush of posting a fic is too strong.

Hopefully you guys enjoy, this is a little different from my typical style in the sense that it's an alternate universe fic! I just had this idea and felt like writing it out, I might end up doing more of these style of fics if I get some more ideas that I feel like writing, especially for idols/groups who I don't follow as closely. Let me know what you guys think, as always, appreciate the support!

[puck-bunnies]

behind closed doors

umich!luke hughes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, fingering, praising, choking, not proof read

word count: 2.3k

me and luke were never much of friends, never even talked much. at least, that’s what everyone thought. no one ever knows what happens behind closed doors.

i have not used this app in forever, meaning i haven’t written a fic in quite a long time so this is me trying to get back into writing. sorry if this is not great and a little rushed, i just haven’t written anything in like five months. anyways, try to enjoy this fic and ill try to write more as soon as i can.

i sit in the living room of my best friends boyfriends house, she sits beside me as all of ethan’s roommates take up every other seat. the lightning vs islanders game plays on the tv, having all of our eyes glued to it.

the boys are in a constant state of yelling, wether is celebrating, yelling at how stupid the refs are, or booing the other team. i’m not as invested as usual, my teams aren’t playing, but ill never miss an opportunity to a hockey game.

my mind also focuses on the close proximity as luke sits beside me, our thighs lightly rubbing against each other ever so softly. the warm summer weather left me wearing shorts and a tank top, causing luke’s hand to glide across my bare skin as he secretly places his hand on my thigh.

i never intended on sneaking around with luke, it all just happened one day, the house was empty and quiet. we got to talking, venturing from subjects like our classes, plans for our future, and somehow turning into our sex life.

he learned that i’ve never really gotten quite what i need, never feeling that spark with any guy that i’ve been with. them never wanting to try anything i’ve wanted to, i’ve never been fully satisfied.

he continued to tell me how he has slept around quite a bit. nearly almost always leaving the rink with some new blonde puck bunny stuck to his arm. he didn’t wear it as a trophy, or say that he regretted any of it, all just saying it’s apart of his past. his history he can’t and won’t change.

one thing led to another, his hands roaming my body as my lips bit down on his. my hands squeezing the mattress tightly with every moan escaping my lips.

we didn’t even stop there, whenever we could find a time to be alone, we were tangled in each others arms.

here we are now, not even able to keep our hands to ourselves in sight of one another. i try to shake his hand off, not wanting any of the surrounding eyes to see his intimate gesture. he doesn’t move, squeezing my skin harder. i softly pierce my bottom lip with my teeth, try to calm my nerves. i can feel heat bubbling up to my face, painting my cheeks with a faint blush.

my eyes peer over to him, giving him a pleading look to start behaving. he doesn’t budge, giving me a side smirk before returning his eyes on the game.

rutger groans loudly as the 2nd period finishes, “fuck the lightning.” he swears as they’re pulling a 4-1 lead. he chugs back the rest of his beer, throwing the can on the ground in some grown man temper tantrum.

the ads run during the commercial break, leaving the rest of us to disregard the television for the time being. my heart starts to quicken, without their distraction of the game they’re eyes could fall upon luke’s hand on me.

my mind tries to work fast, but the only thing i can think of doing is grabbing the blanket next to me and covering myself with it, concealing us from the wandering eyes. luke’s lips curl into a smirk, proud of me not forcing him off, knowing that i want it. that i want him.

his hand becomes bolder, rubbing up and down my inner thigh. i bite my bottom lip again, trying to stabilize myself from this new feeling. his fingers become more adventurous, going to the hem of my shorts.

“fuck.” i softly mumble to myself, luke’s soft chuckle tells me that he hears my light groans. his fingers don’t stop there, rubbing up to the bottom of my shirt, toying with the cotton material.

the pads of his fingers brush against my sensitive skin, right across the bottom of my stomach. fire engulfs my stomach, my breath hitches as he rubs softly back and forth, tickling my skin.

the game comes back for the final period, my eyes keep trained on the hockey game, but my mind can only focus on his touch as it drives me insane.

he feels my stomach hitch with my breath, he knows i want him so badly, he knows what he does to me. i squeeze my thighs together, trying to cause some type of sensation in my growing wetness.

i can’t take his teasing fingers anymore, “meet me in my room.” i whisper to him. rising from the couch and walking away from the crowded living room. i head for the direction of the bathroom, making them hear my footsteps as i lead their ears to the door closing. i stay outside the bathroom, tiptoeing to my room in an unsteady waiting of luke.

the door finally opens, luke quickly closing the door silently behind him. a deep breath is all i can hear from him, turning around to look at me patiently sitting on the foot of my bed. he takes a seat beside me, quickly gripping my hips and pulling me onto his lap.

“it’s been awhile since we’ve been alone,” my fingers rake up the back of his head, through his soft brown hair, my finger swirling around a curly lock. “too long.” a soft sigh parts from his lips as my fingers lightly scratch at his scalp.

he keeps his hands on my hips, roughly gripping at my denim shorts. “i missed your hands all over me. you can’t tease me out there and not expect me to want more.”

our bodies come closer, our lips so close together, our hearts syncing their beats. i can barely hold myself back from making up that final inch. “tell me how badly you want me.”

“i want you..” he shyly gives into my need. it’s not enough for me, i feed off of hearing how badly he wants me, his hands rubbing up and down my body, the feeling of his cock being buried deep inside me.

“oh yeah…” my lips attach to his neck, softly kissing down from his jaw.

finally he gives in, “i want to feel you against me, your lips on mine, every inch of your beautiful body baby.”

a devilish smirk spreads on my face, “mmm, is that right?” i mumble against his neck, softly sinking my teeth into his sensitive skin, sucking the spot to soothe it after.

“oh god yes.” luke practically moans out. his hands become adventurous, slowly going down to hold my ass in his hands, gripping at my clothed skin. they make their way down farther, gripping at my exposed thighs while my kisses go back up his jaw.

i crave for his taste, forcefully pressing my lips against his in a hungry state. my tongue quickly sliding into his mouth, hands combing through his messy curls, pushing him closer into me. he guides my hips back and forth on him, i can feel him hardening underneath me.

breaking the kiss to catch my breath, i drop my head onto his shoulders as i feel his hands press against my pussy. my hips still grind on him, but instead of just on his hard cock, it’s on his fingers. “mmm, you want me that bad?” he chuckles, i nod against his shoulder.

he undoes my shorts, exposing the top of my pink lacy panties, his fingers drag down them, going farther into my pants. they settle on my wetness, my hips stop rocking, focusing on the closer touch. “god you’re soaked.”

my lip sticks to my teeth in a harsh lip bite, my walls clench around nothing, begging to be filled by him. his fingers work slow and teasingly, rubbing circles around my clothed clit, watching me squirm on top of him. my back slightly arches, legs slowly opening wider for him to have better access to my aching pussy. “needy, are we?”

i softly whimper, my hips start to grind again, craving more attention from his teasingly slow hands. his fingers move the crotch of my panties aside, touching my wetness with his bare fingers, feeling my folds and them dripping for him. my head lifts off his shoulder, taking a glance down at his hand stuffed down my pants, looking back deep into his eyes.

i take a deep breath out, without a single warning he thrusts a finger in my pussy. making me loudly squeal with surprise. he quickly covers my mouth, stopping his finger in me. “you have to be quiet princess, you don’t want us getting caught, now do you?” he asks. i shake my head no, he hums at my obedience. “good girl.” his voice is in a whisper, softly praising me.

he begins to move his finger once again, letting me adjust to the new sensation before adding another, stretching me out for him. curling his fingers up to my g-spot. finally trusting me enough not to scream, he moves his hand off of my face, settling it down on my hip to keep me steady.

my hands grasp at his curly locks, trying to compose myself. as he adds another finger i bite down on my bottom lip, trying to keep the wanting moans from escaping my lips. a smirk spreads across luke’s face, watching what he can do to me with just his hands. i curse under my breath, dropping my head down to keep my brain straight, the pleasure slowly becoming less bearable.

his fingers quicken, hand comes off my hip and to my chin, lifting my head to force me to stare back into his eyes. “look at me while i’m finger fucking you baby.” my teeth puncture my bottom lip harder, my chest heaving with all the moans i keep to myself. i slip up and let on me out, hard hands hit my throat, softly squeezing. “i thought i told you to keep quiet?”

his grip loosens to allow me to take a breath, closing back up as soon as my chest rises. another finger slips in my cunt, my legs start to squirm, toes curling and hands squeezing his hair. his fingers losen from my throat, falling down to the straps of my tank top. he pulls one strap off each shoulder, one at a time. hooking two fingers at the neckline and pulling down, my tits falling out from my lack of wearing a bra.

he wastes no time before gripping my breast, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bud. i clench around his fingers, my senses overloading with pleasure. he lowers his head, kitty licking my other nipple. i softly moan, not loud enough for luke to get me in trouble again, but enough for him to know the things he’s doing to me.

my stomach clenches, the feeling i know very well as my head starts to feel light. “i’m so close.” i whimper out. luke doesn’t let up, switching to my other breast, sucking on the nipple before softly biting the skin.

my whole body clenches as i feel my climax, luke’s quick fingers curling inside me quickly. it all comes raining down, my pussy clenching around him as i coat his fingers with myself. he backs up, letting me heave and fall down on his chest to catch my breath.

i quietly curse under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut to recover from my high. i life my head back up to look luke in the eyes. he removes his fingers from my folds, fingers coated with my cum. he slides his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. my breath catches in my throat again, god damn he makes me want more.

“you’re such a good girl Y/N.” he pops his fingers out of his mouth, “i wish i could fuck you silly right now. but i want to keep all those precious moans to myself, when we can be completely alone.”

before i can even react to his words he puts his lips back onto mine, slipping his tongue in my mouth to let me taste myself. his fingers plant back onto my hips, helping me up to my feet so he can get out from underneath me.

“you go get yourself cleaned up and meet me back in the living room. i pray we weren’t gone too long for anyone to notice.” he whispers, fixing my hair from the sweat that beads on my forehead.

i nod to his words, giving him one last little kiss before he silently slips out of my bedroom. my try to regain my normal breathing patterns, my brain still fuzzy from my previous orgasm.

i obey luke’s wishes, tiptoeing to the bathroom to clean myself off. splashing water into my face to try to remove my blushing red cheeks. i walk back out to the bathroom, seeing everyone engrossed in the final minutes of the third period. i thankfully sigh, slipping back between the guys to sit back down beside luke. he offers me a light smirk, we both then back to the television, watching the game unfold.

[marionthegeek]

Stede is in the Gravy Basket, Izzy is Alive

The season 2 finale of Our Flag Means Death is odd.  It hits weird. I think I know why. And this is going to sound bananas, but give me a chance to explain.  Maybe you’ll agree.

It has a huge tonal shift. It seems to speedrun Stede and Ed’s romance. It feels like we’ve missed out on something from the end of episode 7.  The fight scenes and pirate plans are nonsensical, even for OFMD. And most egregiously, a prominent character is killed off in a way that feels disingenuous to his story arc, just for starters.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  We need to go back to the beginning of season 2.  The season opens with Stede looking more piratey than ever. Beard, sash, earring… oh he’s his own fantasy of a real proper pirate.  He’s clashing swords with Izzy Hands and demanding to know where Ed is. He’s dreaming. In the dream he kills Izzy. He and Ed run into each other’s arms while screaming each other’s names. They crash into the surf. Ed says “I knew you’d find me, Babe.  I knew you’d find me, Love.” Stede keeps asking if they’re good. Ed dodges the question. Then Ed asked about the smell. Stede wakes up in a crowded room with farting and shushing roommates.

At first I thought the finale was supposed to be just a “satisfying” mirror to Stede’s dream. Stede and Ed call each other’s names and run into each other’s arms in a display that resembles a more grown up version of Stede’s dream fantasy. There’s some wild sword fighting not unlike Stede’s dream duel with Izzy. And Izzy dies.

It does mirror, but I didn’t find it satisfying. All of the characters except Stede feel flattened. Stede gets to make the heroic plan (that we never even hear) while there’s at least five pirates with better skill sets for it in the room. Ed, as Blackbeard, was described last season as “History’s greatest tactician”; Zheng Yi Sao conquered China; Jackie just took out a room full of British soldiers. Izzy and Auntie are right there. You could make arguments that Jim or Frenchie, or pretty much anyone could make a better plan. Then Stede says “It’s only suicide if we die,” which is horrible considering the plan gets Izzy killed.

Stede’s really the only person in that room who thinks Stede should be making the plans.  So I got to thinking, what if it's not just mirroring the dream? What if it is a dream? Last shot of episode 7 is an incoming cannonball. Maybe he’s unconscious.

Huge shout out to @Arty_Sunflowers on twitter (I’m not calling it X, fuck Musk) for pointing out that that isn’t the only episode that ends with a cannonball. Episode 2 ends with Jim swinging a cannonball down at Ed’s head.  Stede’s not just dreaming, he’s in the Gravy Basket!!!! (Stede even screams “Oh my God!” at the end of episode 7 in the same tone he screams “Oh my God, I don’t want to die.” in s1e9.

Stede’s hopes, dreams, and insecurities shape everything in the finale. And it helps explain the absurdities in the episode when you remember that Stede is living out pulp adventure and romance novels in his head. (He even looks like someone on the cover of one in his episode 1 dream.) But Stede can’t be dead, you say. He’s literally the main character. Well, Ed was dead for a whole episode. Let’s take a closer look.

I could and probably will do another essay on Lucius as a POV character and Ed’s mental health and how the threads they seemed to have dropped aren’t as dropped as they appear. But all of that hinges on me proving the Stede is in the Gravy Basket theory. So for this essay I’m focusing on that.

So for starters we’ve got the cannonball scenes. They’re eerily similar even if the method of cannonball propulsion is different. We don’t know Ed is dead and in the Gravy Basket for about half of episode 3. Neither does he. It makes logical sense you can be there without realizing it for a while. Buttons even said Ed didn’t know whether he was in the Gravy Basket or not in episode 4. It definitely messes with your reality.

One of Ed’s issues is self hate. He manifests Hornigold as his companion. Stede is desperate to be a good pirate and have people be proud of him. And he lives in his fantasies a lot.  So his dream shapes his experience. There’s a whole bit about Zheng needing “soft” and Auntie saying she’s proud of her. That isn’t their issue. It’s discordant with the show previously. But it is Stede’s issue. He’s manifesting.

When we first see Stede and Zheng in episode 8, they’re in a familiar spot for Stede, the bridge from episode 1. But why are they alone? When we last see Stede and Zheng in episode 7, several characters are within 5 to 10 feet of them. Did none of them decide to escape with Stede? Izzy, Lucius,  and Jim are closest. But we know Pete was there begging Stede to stay down during his fight with Zheng. Archie was definitely in the bar. That's why Jim entered the fight. So why is it only Stede and Zheng at the bridge? Because, going back to rescue others fits into Stede's hero fantasies. 

Zheng and Stede also argue about who pulled who to safety and how they got there. Stede waxes poetic about being a failure his whole life, but things always seem to work out for him. He’s such a main character mediocre white guy in this scene. He saves Zheng from two random soldiers, then she has to save him from them. Then they fight a bunch more soldiers on the beach until Blackbeard manifests in full leather from the ocean.  It looks cool. But it's absurd, even for OFMD.

Speaking of Ed, he begins the episode waxing poetic about nature and calling fishermen simple.  Those things are more Stede than Ed. Pop pop tells Ed, “You have no skills” which is something Izzy said to Stede in episode 5.  He also tells Ed, “If you were ever good at something, go do that, you bum.” If Stede’s insecurities could be distilled into one sentence, it would probably be that. (He also talks about being like a wave. I’m not 100% sure it's a The Good Place joke, but it would be thematically appropriate.)

Pop pop also tells Ed he “ruined dinner.”  Back in season 1, in Stede’s flashbacks to life with Mary and the kids, Stede thinks he’s ruined dinner. But remember, we also see another version of the scene where Stede is laughing with Mary and the kids.  Stede isn’t exactly a reliable narrator. Even in his own head.

Despite it being beyond unlikely, Ed finds soldiers reading one of Stede’s letters. I know physics in this show is sketchy, but this seems like a good time to point out no one found the red silk. Stede wants Ed to read a letter and for it to fix everything between them. The letter, plus Stede being in danger, make Ed swim out, find his leathers, and emerge from the sea with them on, while the music is the Swede’s solo from Stede’s fuckery in s1e6. Stede wants to be rescued by his handsome pirate in leather, again, just like a pulp adventure romance novel. Little chance of Ed swimming out and finding his kit.  Even less of him getting leather pants on under the water.

Back to the beach… for some reason two squads of soldiers are wandering around out on an empty beach. A visually incredible fight scene occurs. It honestly reminds me of Pete’s story in s1e2, including flips. Ed and Stede yell each other’s names exactly as in the dream. Like I’m pretty sure they used the same audio track. The same song (I Love My Baby, Nina Simone) starts playing. Ed says “I love you.” Stede says “I know.” (We’ll come back to the Han Solo joke in a minute.) They have a bit more absurd fighting then Ed, Stede, and Zheng sit on the beach complimenting each other. And Ed calls Stede “babe”.  He’s never done that outside of Stede’s dream and this moment. He’s called him mate a couple of times.  Babe is exclusively in Stede’s head.

Back in the Republic of Pirates, the crew are locked in a cell that is actually the “vista suite” at Spanish Jackie’s.  Izzy gets a heroic entrance. It’s as cool as Stede thinks Izzy is. And he gives a speech that sounds like what he probably told Stede to get him to relinquish the suit in episode 5. Piracy is about belonging to something. You can’t ignore the wishes of the crew.  Izzy also knows details about Captain Kidd and Pinocchio. Not impossible, but not exactly Izzy’s wheelhouse. It is Stede’s though. He’s obsessed with pirate tales and he read Pinocchio to the crew.

Stede, Ed, and Zheng show up just as Jackie has poisoned a bunch of soldiers. Stede makes a plan, despite everyone else being more qualified. Everyone disguises themselves as soldiers. Now we’ve seen the crew of the Revenge wear disguises. They never do the weird free styling they do here. Only Stede actually looks like a British officer. Zheng at least wears the disguise properly. Suddenly Ed has a multi gun bandolier like Blackbeard in the books. Pete ripped the arms off. Izzy is still wearing his vest. Doesn’t make sense if we’re going for stealth. Neither does not checking hostage Ricky for weapons or putting Izzy and his wooden leg at the front of the group.

If I'm right, Stede wouldn't know Ricky was behind the explosions. However,  Ricky is basically evil Stede. He's Stede's perfect foil. All of this is reflecting Stede's psyche. So, of course, it's Ricky.

Izzy gets shot and says quite a lot of nonsense in his death scene. “They love you, Ed.” Um, 3 of them were going to leave like five minutes ago. Ed has made some progress with the crew, but we’re not at “they love you Ed”.  The only person who thinks the crew loves Ed is Stede. Stede who weeps for Izzy while most of the crew aren’t showing much emotion. Stede can barely deal with his own big feelings. His fantasy doesn’t give the crew room to have them. Also, given the rest of the season, having Jim just let Ed be the person cradling Izzy doesn’t fit. The crew is also pretty stony at Izzy’s funeral.

I feel like it should be noted the last shot of Izzy in episode 7, he’s got one are around Jim and a hand on Lucius’s shoulder. He sat in Wee John’s lap in episode 6. Reactions to his death don’t make sense.

Also, Izzy’s terrible grave marker is very … Stede. He’d think it was a brilliant idea.

I didn't understand at first why Izzy had to die, even in Stede's dream world. Stede clearly likes him a lot better now. Why kill him? Well, it's because we're supposed to think Buttons is there to go to the Gravy Basket for Izzy. When actually he's already arrived in the Gravy Basket and he's there for Stede. Also, mentors die in pulp adventure novels. Stede sees Izzy as a mentor.

They go aboard the Revenge for Lucius and Pete’s wedding. It’s cute that the crew performs the ceremony, but I’d venture a guess that’s because Stede doesn’t know a captain should do it if it's legally binding. Stede does love the romance of it all.  The sudden uptick in monogamy is also very Stede. He barely understands monogamous relationships. Polyamory is beyond him.

Then Stede and Ed, who earlier told Zheng they’d help hunt Ricky, go back to the island where Izzy is buried to start an inn in a run down shack.  Stede knows Ed wants to do this because Ed told the (Taika’s) kids that they ran an inn.  We hear Ed ask “Jesus, what is that smell?” Now, at first, I thought Izzy, because Ed “knows the smell of my rotting first mate”. But what was the last thing to happen in Stede’s dream? A fart joke.

Last scene is Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave. To retrieve Izzy from the Gravy Basket? No, Izzy’s not dead. He’s with Jim and Lucius, probably watching over Stede’s corpse. Buttons is there to retrieve Stede.

This theory fixes the plot holes and dropped threads problem. We’re coming back to them next season. Ed's amends making should be far from over. And we see several moments during the season where he acknowledged that. And yet here on the island they've set up a horror movie and called it a happy ending.  Well, Stede is the type of boss who thinks things are fixed with a pizza (Calypso) party. In Stede's mind, this is a happy ending.  But really Ed is still off finding himself,  Stede is (temporarily) dead, and Izzy (who is not dead!) is probably guarding Stede's corpse.

They haven't resolved the domestic violence thread, but they haven't dropped it, either. Izzy is alive. Stede and Ed aren't together (yet). There's still time.

This also explains some of the freewheeling nonsense David Jenkins has been spouting in articles. Ed doesn’t see Izzy as a father figure and mentor, Stede does.  Stede almost turned to mush when Izzy approved of him. And David is writing a three volume adventure novel. Han Solo (Stede) is in carbonate (the Gravy Basket). The perfect end to the second act. See, I told you we’d get back to the Han Solo joke.

I still have problems with the season.  I really think they need a sensitivity reader. Even just implying a newly disabled character was fridged is certainly a choice. Especially given the amount of time devoted to how the character handled the disability. The DV scenes were brutal, as well as the suicide attempt, and the Human Puppet joke. I think they need someone trauma informed and disabled in the writer's room. (David Jenkins hit me up!)

Overall, I liked season 2. Especially once I realized Izzy wasn't dead. I'm looking forward to season 3, the conclusion of the Gentle Beard arc, and hopefully 6 seasons and a movie of Izzy (to be clear, he's not captain) and the kids sailing up and down the coast being gay and doing crimes, occasionally checking in with Stede and Ed.

Seriously, David, call me.

Historical Note: IRL Blackbeard died on November 22, 1718, killed in a naval battle off Ocracoke Island in North Carolina. IRL Stede Bonnet died December 10, 1718, hanged in Charles Town, South Carolina for piracy.  IRL Israel “Izzy” Hands survives piracy, death date unknown. I know this show doesn’t actually care about historical accuracy, but this lends a little support for my Ed died, then Stede died, and Izzy isn’t dead theory.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 7

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: traumatic past, trust issues, cursing, very likely typos

Words: 3262

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake Seresin is a puzzle whose pieces, as you have come to see, are already slotted together. You learned tonight that a few of those pieces are worn from being picked at, but they don’t impede his ability to be complete. Jake is beautiful and smart with a well-built confidence and a certain quality that, with enough time, makes you want to open yourself up to him. Everything about him goes together. It all works. Those pieces make Jake the man he is, in all of his perfection. So being in his presence, you want to be who he wants you to be. You want to be just as put together. But you’re not sure you’re strong enough for that. 

“You can trust me,” he says, your hands still clasped together. You glance down at those hands, wondering when exactly he wove his fingers with yours. “I’ll share first if that’ll make it any easier.”

Eyes flicking up, you take in the intensity of the pair staring back at you—the depth within them, the swelling pupils that are pushing the green into a thin ring and drawing you in. They’re too honest, and it hits you like a ton of bricks.

Has anyone else ever looked at you this way? You think the closest instance you can recall involves the man you’d naively fallen in love with who lived in the first town you’d moved to on your own. But his look was a hidden lie discovered far too late. 

You suppose there was a fraction of Jake’s honesty in Millie’s eyes when she expressed her thoughts and told her story so openly. She would probably be willing to attempt understanding you if you offered it. 

You know you’re reaching, though. Trying to grasp at something that isn’t all there to prove that the way Jake is looking at you now is nothing unique. That it’s not special. That he doesn’t make your heart pound or your stomach flutter or cause a tingle to creep up your spine.

But when you consider telling him the truth of your history, you already sense the shame you’ve been living with for years preparing to double in force. And how can you allow that? You don’t need anything else weighing you down. You can’t possibly handle more. Certainly not from him. 

You tear your eyes away from his and aren’t shocked to find that that’s exactly what it feels like—a tear. A tearing that holds so much resistance you can practically hear the slow rip that severs the connection. 

“It’s not that easy,” you whisper.

“It can be,” he says, fingers tightening around yours. “You know how much I want to know you.”

The closing of your throat doesn’t allow you to swallow. An invisible hand is wrapped around your neck, blocking your oxygen, fogging your vision with unwanted tears. Your lip quivers all on its own.

Jake reaches out, lightly pressing his thumb to that lip as if he could stop its trembling. 

Then you shake your head and his thumb disappears. 

Standing, you try to step away, but his hand, still tangled with yours, stops you. You think he’s doing it on purpose, refusing to let you leave until he gets what he wants, but when you look at his face, it’s blank. His eyes stare ahead, the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and he doesn’t seem to feel you prying open his fingers to free your hand. 

His arm drops and slides into his lap, and you take that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom. 

You’re not quite through the door when you hear, “I wish you felt like you could trust me.” His voice is as defeated as his facial expression had shown. Low, dark, raspy. “Whatever it is, it's not going to change how I see you.”

You want to believe him so badly. So much so that, without any effort, you could let it consume you. But you can’t bet on his words. So you close your door the rest of the way. 

—

You’ve thought about him for a week straight, and each of those thoughts has scribbled their way into the notebook you’d sort of kind of—would deny it if anyone asked—stolen from the shop. 

But your little notes on Jake you don’t allow to blend with the chaotic notes of your past. He gets his own pages with words written in neater script. There’s not a single smudge of ink from your hand rubbing the paper in a rush to get your memories down before you forget some of their details. Not a single splotch of liquid black from a pen pressed too harshly onto the paper. No holes from that pen tracing the same words over and over in a fit of dampened anger. Like Jake, your notes on him are neat, and beautiful, and perfect in appearance. 

What they contain, however, is something different: bunches of sentences warring with one another as you try to decide what you’re going to do next. You live with him. You see him every day. You’ll have to interact, which means you’ll have to get over this hump. The only problem is that it may not be a hump Jake wants to get over.

In the months you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him the way he was that night last week. So much was crammed into a couple of hours and it provided you with a fresh image of him—not an image that changed, exactly, but simply an image that developed a new layer. And you liked having that layer of his visible, until it became clear that the spotlight was turning to you so you may develop another layer as well. 

Stepping out of that light meant plenty to you—you knew the message you were sending, even though you felt resistance from every part of you screaming to stay put—but it did more to Jake than you imagined, and that realization came in the form of Jake not speaking to over the past weeks worth of mornings, not smiling, not waiting for you so you could share breakfast. He’s gone before your alarm goes off. 

It only took you ten hours to notice the void that formed in your chest from missing him around you. After ten hours—most of which you spent trying to sleep—you felt awful in more ways than one. Not only were you exhausted and absorbing your dislike of his absence that first morning, but Jake, despite his hurt state, continues to take care of you. 

Those breakfasts he doesn’t wait around to share with you are still available, already made up on a plate with saran wrap keeping them safe in the fridge. The post-its he sticks to the coffee pot to inform you of said breakfasts never fail to have a small smiley face drawn in the corner. And to be fair, he does speak to you a little, but unless it seems to be a matter of life or death, which you haven’t been able to manage, his answers are clipped. Even then, it could be that those short answers are the best he can do for himself rather than anything he is doing for your benefit. With how much Jake talks in general, and with how lively you are used to seeing him, maybe he can’t be one-hundred percent silent no matter how much he wants to. 

Regardless of what it really is, the tension has grown thicker by the day.

These days are not ones you want to morph into routine. You can’t watch them settle and solidify when you crave him and what he adds to your new life to this degree. Which means you have to figure yourself out. Not all of you—that will take some time—but enough of you that you can approach Jake and take the chance to be honest with him. His offer to exchange stories shows that it is not just you who needs it, but Jake as well. 

That is what has prompted you to bring your notebook to work over the last seven days. And the more time you spend writing your notes, the more you release from your damaged soul, and the more good things about Jake start piling up. His faults are underwhelming and overshadowed, and all it confirms is that you want him back. So you decide that when he picks you up from work, something you never expected him to continue doing considering your current relationship, you’re going to break the silence by asking for another chance. 

—

When Rooster’s truck pulls up to the store, Millie is leaning halfway out the passenger side window, one hand waving your way, the other arm bracing her precarious position. A moment later, her elbow slips on the sill and she lurches forward with a sharp yelp. Looking past her, you can see Rooster reach over the center console and wrap his arm around her waist to pull her back to safety. 

“Babe, please,” he groans. “You’re stressing me out.”

She glances at him over her shoulder. “Oh, you hush. I’ve never fallen.”

“Yet,” he emphasizes. “I’d like it if my girlfriend stayed alive. I've got plans that involve you.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Darlin’. You know my hips will save me from making it all the way out the window.” 

Rooster only rolls his eyes in response before unwrapping his arm and giving her ass a light smack. 

Millie looks back at you, her grin wide and displaying a row of straight, white teeth. “Hey, honey. Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?”

“You can only work so hard here,” you say with a weak chuckle. “Where’s Jake? Is he okay?”

You want that answer as much as you don’t. You pray he’s fine and safe, but then it means the tension that hasn’t dwindled the slightest has finally become too much for him. Though you’d rather he avoid you than be injured or ill, it hurts no less. Right as you devise a plan to bring the two of you back together, he pulls further away.

“Oh, he’s um…” Millie bites her lip.

“Staying on base tonight,” Rooster says, leaning back to meet your eyes over Millie’s shoulder. “He went in to get some extra work done and thought it would be easier.”

If the lie weren’t so terribly obvious, Rooster’s face would’ve betrayed him. The man is not a master of deception. He can’t pull it off. You suppose that bodes well for Millie, if he would ever dare tell her an untruth. Not that you can imagine a situation where he would. 

Millie’s nerves wipe from her face at her boyfriend’s explanation, and you almost snort from how cute they are. They operate as their own little team, supporting and backing their partner up to keep the other from falling. Whether they succeed in their mission, like trying to convince you Jake is busy, is another thing. 

Your little red-headed friend transforms back into her giddy self. “Right, so he asked us to come get ya,” she says with a wink.

Now that, you do believe. Jake may not want to see you, but he wouldn’t leave you stranded. And as disappointing as it is to see Rooster’s truck instead of the one you perfer, you know it’s not enough to convince you to give up on your end goal. With your plan thwarted, you only gain more time to figure out exactly how you’re going to bring up what you want to tell Jake.

—

You’ve decided Sundays are the best days. Sundays are easy days. They are days set aside for relaxing, where you can spend twenty-four hours in your home with only a robe wrapped around your body and not be judged. Many stores are closed on Sundays, the gift shop included, and most people don’t work, Jake included. And Jake Seresin, though not the type to sit around, does allow himself the mornings of Sundays to be what he would normally consider lazy. 

When you first moved in, you didn’t love this habit of his. Knowing no one but him and knowing no place but the apartment meant you didn’t do anything or see anyone else. He had you locked in with him for at least three hours before he met his team at the gym, and he took those three hours very seriously. Most of their minutes he dedicated to being around ta you,lking to you, asking you questions—anything you did, he was there to do it with you. And while it once bugged you a bit, it eventually grew on you. He grew on you. You stopped caring about how he spent his Sunday mornings because your routine and his melded into a comfortable place, and you've had no intentions of disrupting that—until now. 

After forgoing sleep to spend the entire night thinking about Jake, you’re sure you look like hell when you step out of your room and into the living room where he sits. You didn’t think to check yourself in the mirror, and Jake doesn’t acknowledge you in favor of reading his book to confirm or deny your likely-ragged state. 

You don’t care how you look, though. 

You care about pushing yourself forward. 

“Jake?” 

His hum is dismissive, but you don’t hold it against him. You understand his feelings too well, and you accept them. When he was so vulnerable and raw—when he told you something he’d not told even his closest friends—you denied him the same courtesy, and that decision hurt him. He aches. You still see it on his face and in his movements. The way his fingers gripped the book and his shoulders tensed the moment you entered the room. How he pulled his bottom lip inward and trapped it between his teeth and has yet to let it go. 

He’s trying to hide the discomfort your presence causes, and he is doing so well that, as someone with plenty of experience, you’re almost proud. But the act unravels completely when you say, “I trust you.”

His head slowly rises. Then, closing the book and setting it aside, Jake stands from his spot on the couch, brow pinched as if he had not heard you correctly. “What did you say?”

“I trust you,” you repeat. 

One hand settles on his hip as the other goes through his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut in a two-second long blink as if trying to snap himself awake. Lips part, perhaps to say something, anything, but then they seal again. 

Before you lose your nerve, you inhale, exhale, and with a single nod, mutter to yourself a final, “I trust him.” 

Then you spew out everything you’ve kept inside—everything you’ve kept away from him. 

“My parents left me,” you say aloud for the very first time. You try to hold them back, but tears accompany that statement, gathering in the corners of your eyes. “Dad first, when I was nine. Mom when I was fourteen. They left and I don’t know where they are, and I don’t really care, but they disappeared and it…it messed me up. It left me lost, and I learned to let people hurt me because no one showed me anything else. I let people treat me however they want, which most often means attacking the insecure parts of me. I let them call me names and look at me in ways that strip me of my dignity, and I can’t stop it. I don’t stop them.

“When I can’t take it anymore, I leave wherever I am,” you say before pausing to catch your breath. 

Jake doesn’t take the opportunity to speak. He stands there, staring, listening, waiting for you to offer him more. 

“You weren’t that far off at the diner when you said I was trying to live in every beach town for two months before moving on to the next. They haven’t all been beach towns, but there have been many of them and I never stay for long,” you admit. “The minute I have the means, I go. I graduated high school by myself and left my hometown, fell in love with an asshole in the second town and left, got a job at a bar whose drunks found me an easy target, so I left again, and it’s been the same everywhere I’ve landed, again and again and again. People break me down so I find someplace new. You are—” You cut yourself off to reconsider your words, “This is my eleventh new place.” One of those tears breaks free to slide down your cheek. “And I don’t know how long I’m going to last here, but I already hate the thought of leaving.”

Done with your speech, you release a heavy breath.

When Jake looks away from you, it’s a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Your heart crushes with the realization that you were right. Jake was wrong. Seeing you differently is not as difficult as you had hoped and he had promised. In fact, he doesn’t see you at all anymore because he won’t even give you a glance. You presented the reality that you are unloved and unwanted and explained exactly why that is, and now he has in his hand all of the reasons why others mistreat you, the ability to evaluate those reasons, and decide for himself if those reasons are valid. 

And in that moment, you know you are fucked. You’re about to be lost again. On your own, in the dark, with nothing to hold on to. Not that you didn’t anticipate this coming along eventually, but you would have liked to stick around a little longer. 

Through the blur of tears, you see Jake nod. That’s all. No words, no shift in facial expression; he nods to the floor rather than give you the respect of nodding to your face. He nods again, and then he looks up to meet your gaze. 

Jake’s hands fall from his hips, and in four strides he closes the space keeping you apart, cups your jaw in the heat of his palms, and plants his lips on yours. 

His kiss lands somewhere between hard and soft, between eager and restrained, between needy and downright desperate. And after adjusting to the shock he plunged you into, your mouth begins to move against his. 

Jake is warm, and cozy; he tastes like the one Splenda packet he puts in the oatmeal he occasionally has for breakfast, and it all makes your brain hum in a comfortable delight. You take from him all that he takes from you, and give to him all that he gives you, and in the process, accept that you truly want this and he wants this and that’s all that matters. You’re not working harder to please him than he is working to please you. You’re not thinking about what he will think when your lips separate. You’re not afraid of being a disappointment because were that the case, surely he would have released you by now. But he hasn’t released you. He holds on and pulls closer and doesn’t let go, not even when the kiss breaks.

Thumbs stroke your cheeks as your eyes slowly drag from his swollen lips to his nose to that mossy-green shade you’ve become attached to. There’s a hint of concern in his stare. But then you smile, so he smiles, and the concern fades. 

“Your turn,” you whisper.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath

[moneymartin]

OKOK SO I JUST SAW THE NOTIF!!

so hear me out…maybe reader is like a fam friend of Kate’s. They were best friends and played together all the time. They went to Iowa together, and are roommates. Reader plays volleyball, soccer, softball, wtv you want. And like a slow burn friends to lovers!!?? (i’m a whore for friends to lovers) i’m talking mutual pining, years of attraction and feelings…literally brewing for 22 years (kate’s going to be 24 soon, so like they’re moms were bestfriends so Kate and readers friendship started when they were like 2?)

PLSPLSPLSPLS IF U CAN!?😋

・❥・- no hard feelings.

summary: basically the req lol. r plays soccer at uoi and kate is a nervous wreck 😭

warnings: none rlly… just the use of y/n if that even counts as one??? 💀

rpf!!! don’t read it if ur uncomfortable 😣

wc: 2.25k

a/n: not my usual stuff, i know. i’ve just been itching to write something about kate :( plz don’t unfollow me guys and don’t leave me mooties </3 🤧 i swear i’m going back on my yjs grind once school ends. every divider is a timeskip btw cuz this is lowk long and im layz asfk… also kind of messy i’m so sorry

NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

22 years. you and kate have been friends for 22 fucking years, and she hasn’t picked up yet. your very obvious feelings for her are starting to fade the more she’s been avoiding them. it sucks so fucking much.

these stupid feelings started when both of you ended up at the same university and the same dorm. you never saw kate in that light. she was your mom’s best friend’s kid, and the rest was history. you played tackle football with her when she had nobody else to play with, practiced basketball with her. you two were practically attached to the hip. the same elementary, middle school, highschool, and the same damn college.

it wasn’t like you could just leave too. the scholarship you were offered for soccer was totally worth the taking, and you couldn’t leave behind the team either. the first few times you gained feelings for kate was when you were in middle school. ‘experimenting’ with your feelings. well, that was your guys’ excuse after you two losers got caught by her mom. after that it was just dating stupid boys to get your head out of it and your head off of kate. thankfully, she was trying to do the same exact solution. you knew a lot about her.

but the one thing you didn’t know was that she felt the exact same. she was just too scared to say it. its not like she wants to lose a 22 year friendship over her uncontrollable feelings. first thing she did was go to caitlin, and she was practically freaking the hell out over it. cait was definitely the anchor between the both of you. helping you with accidental arguments so you didn’t lose kate, helping you out with what to say when she was upset. it was good having someone like that, but it was so incredibly stressful having to consistently ask for some sort of advice.

eventually you were tired of it. tired of waiting for something to happen. waiting for a move to be made by kate or maybe just a few little hints that kept you going. although you couldn’t anymore. it was draining, like someone who didn’t realize what you felt about them. you told caitlin everything after that reality set in for you. it was the blinding of your feelings that let everything slip through your mind and basically fly over your head. how could you be so naive to believe that she did and you were just trying hard for nothing in return. it was dumb, and you knew that much.

one night after a long day of testing and practice, you stumble your way into your dorm, the door locked and a frown crossing your face. the keys were in your stupid locker. “open the door, please..” you murmur, voice tired and confused. you bring your fist up to the door and knock softly, the sound of the lock clicking and the door creaking open. “jeez. soccer must’ve been a pain in the ass. you look like shit.” kate laughs, grabbing your arm gently to stable your body. letting out a heavy huff of breath, you lean slightly into her and drop your arms to your sides. “tell me about it.” she smiles and hoists you up carefully, locking the door and bringing you to the living room.

the moment your butt hits the couch cushion you let out a soft sigh and look at kate, her big stupid and soft eyes locking onto yours. the corners of your lips curl up slightly and you snicker, raising your eyebrows. “do you really wanna know? cause its a stupid story.” you exaggerate and rub the back of your neck. kate takes the spot next to you and nods continuously, her head leaning onto your shoulder. “trust me, dude. i wanna hear it.”

“kay, well… coach dilanni was being a total douche about what i wanted to practice. i mean, its fucking practice for a reason. i’m supposed to practice what i need to practice! not what he wants me to practice.” your voice gets a little low and you start to slur out your words. the repeated words and slow murmurs make her laugh a little, her arm hooking around your neck and bringing your head towards hers. “and he gave me so much attitude. like, the more i tried to defend myself the more he spoke over me. the old head was thinking about benching me during the champ game!!!” you blurt out and let out a groan.

she starts to realize just how tired you are and pouts, her head moving away, and her hands cupping your face. your head involuntarily moves to stare at hers, your eyes half open, your lips pursed slightly, and your head dropped down a little. “he looks like a nice old guy but deep down that man has some serious problems,” you grumble. “and don’t even get me started on the tests i had to take.” kate’s eyebrows raise and her face stills for a moment when you bury your face deep into her neck. your breath tickles at her skin and she feels shivers running up and down her back. you’re so tired you don’t even realize what you’re doing.

“y/n…” she breathes out heavily and you hear her swallow down whatever she needs to say. your head pulls out and you look at her with big eyes too, just like how she did earlier. water forms in your ducts as you try to fight off the sleepiness, but the way kate is looking at you makes it hard to get off of her. “hm?” you hum and drop your head against her shoulder. “never mind, okay.” her voice drops too and softens a bit, a familiar heat rushing up to your face when she runs her fingers up and down your back.

the warmth of her body and the relief you feel when you hear her voice makes your head spin like crazy. its like she knows what you feel about her and is just doing this to mess with you. the second your eyes shut, kate sucks in a sharp breath in through her teeth and practically manhandles you. gently, of course. but shes picked you up like a damn baby and you don’t have the slightest intention of stopping her from doing it.

your stomach spins and churns awkwardly from the contact. you’ve known kate all your life, but right now it feels like you just saw her on campus for the first time. after you got that news you guys shared a room together. you suddenly get the reminder of your feelings for her, like a shit ton of fireworks igniting in your stomach. more so reigniting. she brushes her fingers up against your face to move a few strands of hair from it.

kate likes you. she really fucking does, and its just the fact that she can’t spit it out no matter how much she wants to. no matter how much she wants to scream it from the rooftop and tell the whole world about how she feels. she thinks you’re the prettiest girl she’s ever seen and she has that gut feeling where she believes that you feel the same way. she isn’t stupid but shes smitten and that’s blinding her as well. just like how it did to you.

“y’know how we’ve been friends for like.. a bajillion years?” she laughs nervously and curls her lips downwards a bit. you know that shes nervous and its starting to make you nervous too. you’re starting to sweat a little underneath your shirt and you can somehow feel it under your skin. “yeah, why?” you ask and open your eyes to look at her face. its all red, her eyes open wide with anxiety, and her mouth slightly parted.

“okay, listen to me and don’t freak out… please.” kate squeaks out and moves her hands away from you. her reactions and jitters cause you to sit up and watch her every move just to make sure she really doesn’t start to freak. theres a feeling in your stomach that can’t really be put into words. it’s that feeling where you wanna throw up because of your nerves and the wanna jump off a bridge before you hear what she says. “i won’t go crazy, you idiot. what’s wrong with you?” you ask with a little chuckle but it quickly fades away when you realize what she’s about to say.

you’re not feeling this because you’re embarrassed of what she’s feeling. you’re just nervous and not used to it. at least thats what you’re telling yourself. there’s a little voice in your head repeatedly telling you to “calm the fuck down!” and it isn’t really helping. your brain is fried from the tiredness you feel too, but this seems really important. “nothing is wrong with me, i just dunno.. need to tell you something before its too late.” she whispers and tilts her head to the side a little, figuring out how she has to say it and if she really should let you know. now that she’s declared that she needs to say this little thing before its ‘too late’ confirms everything you need to know.

“this probably sounds stupid and dumb and i’m going to sound like the biggest loser in the world,” she starts, her voice cracking and her face contorting in different ways you’ve never seen before. in all the years you’ve know kate, shes never been so anxious and nervous about something like this before. its kinda scary. “but i think i’m like.. really in love with you.” she stumbles over her words and buries her face into her hands. it takes you a moment to process what she says as the sleepiness corrupts your mind. “i’m sorry, what?” you mutter.

“i said i like you!!!” kate blurts out and you watch her face turn the reddest you’ve ever seen it. you’ve been with her for almost all of her relationships and this is the first time her face has ever looked like that. her previous partners have never had her like this, they’ve never had her the way you have, and you’re realizing that just now. “oh.” you gulp. the words you’ve been waiting to hear for more than half of your life have finally been said, and it is the greatest relief you’ve ever felt in your life. and everything makes sense now.

the way kate brushes up against you in the halls, the fact she always walks you to your classes no matter how far hers is from it, her taking you to soccer practice, her watching your games like how you watch her, and the fact that you are the reason she blushes like she’s embarrassed herself. although she hasn’t, she’s just so into you, and nothing is gonna change the way she feels. “‘oh?’ is that it?” kate spits out and starts to panic a little. after she’s just admitted, she’s expected something different from you. maybe the same thing? she doesn’t know what she was expecting, it just wasn’t that.

your eyes widen and your face grows redder the longer you stare at her and when your tiny tired peabrain registers that she reciprocates what you feel. “no! that’s not it, stupid, i like you too!” you blurt out as well and push her shoulders. kate has a look of something on her face. you can’t tell what it is but she seems happy about what you said, and that makes your emotions explode. “okay, you know what? i love you, actually! i love you, i love you, i love you!!!!!!!!” you stutter out a bunch of times. years and years of hoping and waiting that she’ll finally do something comes to a stop. “i have my whole damn life.” you murmur, catching your breath slightly from the continuous shouting of your feelings at her. the burning and churning in your stomach goes away and is replaced with a certain sense of relief. a relief that you haven’t felt in ages.

“oh so, you’re serious, serious?”

“yes, okay. i’m not joking, like i meant everything.”

“say you swear or i won’t believe one word you say.”

“i swear on coach dilanni’s life.” you giggle, fingers threading through kate’s blonde strands. her head is propped up on your chest and her eyes are slightly open. you two have been sitting there for about ten minutes, talking about why or how you even got these stupid little feelings for each other. but none of you are complaining. matter of fact, you’re both on the verge of falling asleep but the presence from each other makes you both wanna stay up all damn night if you could.

“he’s not gonna like that...” she murmurs, voice soft and slurring a bit. kate wraps her arms tight around your waist, her head moving into a more comfortable position. your hands are all over the place and you’re basically just messing up her hair, one of her eyes closing when a few strands get in her face. “you have no idea what you’re doing, huh?” her lips turn into that smile you know all too well now, and her eyes closing completely. a yawn escapes from in between your lips and she hears it, snapping her head upwards, that smile turning into a smirk.

“kiss me.”

and you do.

[afictionaladventure16]

Safe & Sound (Tim Bradford x Adopted!Teen!Reader)

The Rookie Masterlist

Summary: While Tim and Lucy are on their first date, Y/N and Tamara face some challenges that ends with the realization that Y/N's past has come back to her new life.

Author's Note: I know Tamara technically doesn't find out that Tim and Lucy are dating until later on but uhhh this is fiction so yee. All requests are open!

Warnings: Mentions of fights and stabbing

Word Count: 4,630

You watched from the distance as your dad tried on different dress shirts in his bedroom. You had seen your father go on many first dates… maybe ‘many’ is an exaggeration, but that was beside the point, the point was that you had never seen him this nervous. He looked like a girl trying to find the right dress for the school dance, you couldn’t help but smile. He was in love. 

You pulled out your phone, sending a quick text to Tamara

 He’s a mess, you sent. 

A few seconds later your phone buzzed in your hands, 

So is she lol. 

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “What’s so funny?” Your dad asked as he gave you a quick glance. 

You shook your head, “you guys have no idea how nervous you both are.” 

He sighed, “Should I call her?” You gave him a nod. Tim gave you a smile, “First, what do you think?” he raised up a dark grey shirt next to a light gray one. 

You rolled your eyes, “Does it even matter?” 

“What if it clashes with her outfit?” He asked. After the two years you had lived with the man, this was the first time you had heard him say that phrase. 

“I think all that matters is that you both are enjoying the date,” you suggested. 

Tim looked at you with a smile on his face. After Isobel, he felt so lost within himself and somehow he found himself becoming a foster father to a young ten-year-old. It was only a year later that he began the adoption process. It was a long one, especially with the history with Isobel, he had waited a year and a half until the adoption was finalized. It was the best day of his life and he knows that there will be other days in his future that will try to complete, but he will always hold that day close to his heart. It was the day he learned how to be himself again, the day he learned that family didn’t always have to be by blood. 

Now you were fourteen, looking forward to your fifteenth birthday coming up soon. A day that Angela was so busy preparing for because she knew as a Latina that you had to have a quinceanera, and Tim always tried his best to help you grow within your culture. It was one of the main reasons why he learned Spanish. 

He let out a sigh as he reached for his phone, “do you-” 

“If you don’t call her right now, I will call her myself, but I will video call her so she can see-” 

“Alright, alright!” Tim chuckled as he dialed Lucy’s number. 

You walked out of the room, sending Tamara another text. 

I’m assuming you’re coming over with pizza? You sent. 

You know me too well. 

Ever since you met Tamara, she has been like an older sister. Maybe it was because the two of you were in the system and bonded over the traumatic shit both went through. Or because you both lived with cops that took you in and, although Chen is technically just her roommate, they were now your family. 

Tim walked out of his room minutes later, “Alright, I am just a phone call away. Don’t forget to let Kojo out and please tell Tamara I said hi. Um- Am I forgetting anything?” He asked as he began patting his pants pockets. 

“Keys and they’re in the key bowl by the door,” you stated as you scrolled through Netflix, Tim walked over to the key bowl, rolling his eyes as he grabbed his keys, “Bold of you to assume Tamara is coming over.” 

“Is she not?” He asked. 

“No, she is,” you smiled. 

“That’s what I thought,” he sighed, “Don’t open the door for anyone but Tamara. You know the drill, make sure it’s her before you even op-” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Can you go already so we can get this whole Lucy and Tim being continuously nervous over with?” 

Tim took in a small breath, he couldn’t help but catch that you had called him by his first name. It had been two years already and you were still calling him Tim. Of course, he didn’t know how to tell you that calling him dad was okay with him and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to do so; but just hearing it would mean everything to him. 

He gave you a small nod, “Call me if anything, alright? And make sure to turn on the alarm when I leave.” 

“Yes, sir,” you watched as he walked out of the house, you waited for the sound of the lock before turning back around to continue your scrolling. 

Twenty minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring, which was then followed by a phone call. 

You quickly answered, “I assume you’re outside,” you said as you got up from the couch. 

“Your assumptions are correct,” Tamara said. You opened the door to let Tamara in. She had been carrying a bag, of what you assumed is junk food, along with a box of pizza. “Alright, so I found this new candy that you just have to try!” 

You locked the door behind Tamara, “Alright, but first I need a slice of pizza because I am starving!” You followed Tamara as she walked into the kitchen to put down the box of pizza. You instantly opened it and grabbed a slice, “I can’t believe I watched Tim go through every single nice shirt in his closet like he didn’t even do that on his first date with Asley!” 

“Oh, you think that’s bad? Lucy’s whole closet is now on her bed,” Tamara commented as she unpacked the bag of junk food. “Do you guys have sodas?” 

“Yeah, in the fridge,” you gestured towards the fridge. Tamara helped herself, as she always does when she comes over, and she came over quite a bit. “Why do you call your dad by your first name?” Tamara blurted out. 

You shrugged, “I dunno, I guess… I guess I just feel like I am not allowed to call him dad.” 

“But he adopted you” 

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. I’ve wanted to, I just feel like I lost the moment to do so since it’s been two years since the adoption.” Tamara opened the box for a slice of pizza, “Has he talked to you about it? Or Lucy?” 

Tamara looked down, “I know Lucy’s mentioned it. Something about he feels like he’s doing something wrong.” 

You sighed, “What do you think?” 

“I’m the last person you want to ask that.” You gave her a pleading look, and she let out a sigh, “Look, if it were me, the timing wouldn’t matter. He gave you a family, a home, he made you feel loved after everything you had been through in life… in a way, he gave you a second chance that not a lot of us get.” 

She was right and you knew that. It had meant a lot coming from Tamara since she never got the opportunity to get this chance. She would argue that she did when Lucy took her in, but in a way it was different. 

“Should I just do it randomly? Like just ‘Good morning, dad,’ just nonchalant about it?” You asked. 

“Something like that,” Tamara smiled, “You’ll know how to do it when you feel ready and I think you know that you are.” 

The two of you ate pizza and watched Game of Thrones for the next hour. At some point, you had gotten up and let Kojo out to the backyard, he had been whining by the door for a while.  Tamara had taken that opportunity to get up to grab some snacks when all the lights went out, you looked over at Tamara. 

“Whoa,” She exclaimed.

“This is fine,” you stated as you got up from the couch. “Tim usually keeps a flashlight in a drawer in the kitchen,” you walked over to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers. It didn’t take you long to find the flashlight. You shined it at Tamara who had her phone flashlight on.

Tamara sighed as she walked over to the window, “That’s weird.” 

“What?” you walked over to her. You were quick to notice that the houses across the street still had power. 

“Looks like the neighbors next door also have power,” Tamara pointed out. You looked over at the neighbors to your left, she was right, “Did Tim forget to pay something?” 

You scoffed, “No, he’s pretty good at paying the bills on time.” 

The sound of the floorboard creaking caused the two of you to quickly turn your heads, “I didn’t move,” Tamara whispered. 

“Neither did I,” you whispered back. You felt your heart leap into your throat, “Maybe I should call Tim,” you whispered as you took your phone out of your pocket. As soon as you had unlocked it you noticed the no bar signal on the top right corner. “Fuck,” you whispered. Kojo was scratching at the door, whining to get back in. 

“What?” 

You showed her your phone, “I have no signal.” 

“W-what? How?” 

You looked around for something to use as a weapon, “I’ve heard Tim mentioned this before. Some people use jammers in order to block a phone’s signal.” 

“You think someone is-” You held up your finger, Tamara stopped talking. The two of you fell silent, listening to the floorboards creaking increasingly. 

“We need to get out of here,” you whispered. You glanced over at the door, “I’m gonna grab kojo-” 

“No, if Tim were here he’d want you out, Kojo can fend for himself,” Tamara stated. Tamara quietly walked over to the kitchen grabbing a pan that was on the stove. You slowly walked through the living room, you knew Tim had a bat lying around somewhere for emergencies. 

What happened next was a blur. One second you were looking over at Tamara as she inched closer to the front door and the next you were on the ground and you heard yelling. You fought back as the person who was attacking you pulled out a knife. You were trying your best to use the techniques Tim had shown you, but this man was tougher than you had ever imagined. You knew that it wasn’t an excuse, that even if he was tougher and bigger than you, you had to find a way to defend yourself. 

“I got the other one,” you heard another voice yell out. You hadn’t realized there were two of them. 

You looked over at where Tamara was, “Tamara, run!” You yelled out. You could see the hesitation in her, “Go!” 

Tamara felt like running would be the biggest mistake, but she knew there was no way of getting help by staying here. The second man inched closer to her, she swung the pan that she had in her hands, hitting the man in the head, it was enough to stun him so she could get a running start. She ran out of the house and into the neighbor's front yard, running up to the door; she began banging on it, “Help!” 

You, on the other hand, were trying to get out of the man's grip. You sucked in a breath knowing that you had to do something you never wanted to do. You opened your mouth and bit the man's arm as hard as you could, he let out a loud yell and let go of you. 

“You bitch!” he yelled out as he lunged towards you with his knife. 

You lunged away from him, trying to dodge the knife, but he was bigger than you and still quicker than you. You felt a sharp pain in your side, “What the fuck did you do, Rick?!” The other guy asked as he came back inside. “Do you have any idea what he’ll do to us if we bring her in like this?” You reached down to where you felt the pain coming from, feeling something sticky. The more you touched it, the more pain you felt. Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground. 

“Fuck,” the man named Rick, looked at the knife and then at you. “I-I can fix this.” 

“No! Forget it! It’s been compromised! We have to go, the other girl ratted us out!” The man began to make his way to the back door. “Let’s go!” he yelled out again. You lay on the ground, watching as the blurry image of them ran out of the house. 

~~

Tim couldn’t help but look towards the door every other second. Was part of him worried someone from the station would see him? Yes. But also, he had a habit of looking at the door every time someone walked in, especially when he was nervous. 

“Are you worried someone from the station is gonna walk in?” Lucy asked. 

“What?” 

“You are,” Lucy said in disbelief. 

“No, I-” 

“Wow.” 

“What are the odds?” 

Lucy rolled her eyes, “It’s likely.” She cleared her throat, she didn’t want to have this discussion right now. “So, Y/N’s quince is coming up, how is that coming?” 

“Good, good. I um probably going to be in debt for the next year so you can expect a nice Christmas card from us rather than nothing but emptiness inside.” 

Lucy chuckled, “Angela is running you dry with this quince.” 

“That she is. Anything Y/N wants, she gets. I swear she spoils her like she's her own kid.” 

Lucy smiled, “I’ve noticed.” Lucy’s phone began to ring, she took it out, letting out a small chuckle at the sight of the name. “It’s Tamara, the girls are probably trying to check in on us,” she rolled her eyes. “Should I let it go to voicemail?” 

Tim wanted to say yes let it go to voicemail, but there was a voice in the back of his head telling him not to. “Answer it,” he smiled, “Two can play this game,” he teased. 

Lucy placed the phone on speaker, “Before you even ask, yes we are still at the restaurant and no I am not bringing you leftovers, I know you guys had pizza,” Lucy said with a hint of laughter behind her voice. 

“Lucy,” Tamara cried out. 

Lucy and Tim’s facial expressions changed, “Tamara, what’s wrong?” Tim spoke up. 

“It all happened so quickly,” Tamara began. 

“Just take a deep breath, Tamara,” Lucy began, “What happened?” 

Tamara let out a soft sob, “Someone broke in the house. They cut the power and we had no way to call anyone. I-I ran to the neighbors for help, but Y/N was still inside, I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t get to her.” 

Tim felt his chest tightened, suddenly this world no longer felt safe. In all his years working as an officer, he never imagined this to happen. Yes, he was prepared for it, or so he thought he was, but now, this world was more of a menacing place than he had realized. 

Tim wanted to tell Tamara that it was okay, but he couldn’t, because to him, nothing was okay at the moment. He had failed the one promise he had kept to himself the day he took you in and that was to keep you safe. Now the one day he decided to be vulnerable and comfortable, it all came crashing down. 

Tim got up from his seat, “Where are you?” Lucy asked. 

“St. Vincents,” He heard Tamara say as he left a few bills on the table and began walking away. Lucy told Tamara that they’d be there in a few before catching up with Tim. 

“Tim,” Lucy began, you could hear the pain within her voice. “Tim,” Lucy pleaded. Tim quickly turned around as they got outside. “I’m driving,” Lucy stated as the exited the restaurant. 

“No-” 

“No,” Lucy exclaimed as she got in front of Tim, “you’re not in the right mindset to be driving right now.” Tim opened his mouth to argue with her, “I’m driving.” 

Tim closed his mouth and gave her a nod. They got into Lucy’s car and drove off to the hospital. Lucy broke a few laws that day, but Tim probably would’ve broken a hundred just to get there sooner. Tim didn’t wait for the car to be fully parked to hop out, he was already inside the emergency room making his way to the receptionist when Lucy made her way into the hospital. 

“My daughter was just brought in, her name is-” 

“Tim,” Lucy choked out, her eyes had landed on a horrific sight in front of her. 

“Lucy!” Tamara called out, Tim turned around just in time to see Tamara running over to Lucy. He looked around for you, hoping to see you running up to him, but his heart sank deeper every second that passed. He walked over to the girls, his eyes landed on what Lucy was focusing on. 

“Oh God,” he let out a shaky breath, as he watched nurses surrounding work on your wounds. He ran up to you, one hand grabbing yours and the other brushing the hair out of your face. “Y/N, sweetie, it’s me,” Tim began, “I'm here, okay?” he brought your hand up to his lips and placed a small kiss on them. He felt the tears begin to stream down his cheeks. “Is she going to be okay?” 

One of the nurses let out a deep sigh, “The stab wound barely missed one of her aorta’s by an inch, it did knick her one of her lungs causing her to loose a significant amount of blood.” one of the other nurses began to lift the handles on the side. 

“We’ll be needing to take her up to surgery now, to repair the damages,” another nurse said. 

Tim couldn’t find the strength to let go, but he knew he had to. “Tim,” Lucy began, “they need to take her.” She placed a loving hand on his shoulder. 

Tim felt tears begin to well up in his eyes, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, “We’ll get through this okay? You can’t leave me.” 

Lucy felt like the villain as she pulled Tim away from you, but she knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it on his own. 

Tim looked over at Tamara, “What happened?” 

Tamara let out a small sob, “I-I don’t know. One second we were watching Game of Thrones and the next the power goes off.” She took in a deep breath, “We decided it was safer to be outside of the house once we realized we had no signal, she wanted to get Kojo but I told her to just leave him outside and that’s when they attacked her. I should’ve stayed with her,” she looked at Tim with remorseful eyes, “I’m so sorry, she told me to run, but I should’ve stayed.” 

Tim shook his head, “No, you got help, if it weren’t for you, you both would’ve probably been worse off.” 

“Tim,” Lucy called as she spotted Sgt. Grey walks towards them. 

“Sir,” Tim began. 

 “I came as fast as I could, How is she?” he asked. 

Tim sighed, shaking his head, “She’s in surgery, the stab wound hit one of her lungs.” 

Sgt. Grey shook his head, before turning to Tamara, “We’re going to need your statement if you’re up to it, if not we can always wait for tomorrow.” 

“I think after all they’ve been through, I think it’s best if we wait for tomorrow,” Lucy chimed in. 

Tamara gave him a nod, “Tomorrow it is.” Sgt. Grey stated. He looked over at Tim, he noticed he hadn’t said much. His eyes were focused on the double doors where they had just wheeled you through. He walked closer to Tim as Lucy and Tamara walked over to some nearby chairs to sit down. “How are you holding up?” Sgt. Grey asked. 

Tim shook his head, “I wasn’t there.” 

“And you won’t always be there,” Sgt. Grey confirmed. “You can’t always be there, it’s one of the things we have to get used to when being a parent. We have to hope we raise them with enough knowledge so they know what to do in situations like this.” He let out a sigh, “trust me, it isn’t easy.” 

Tim nodded, “I’ve noticed.” 

“You let me know if you need anything,” Sgt. Grey gave Tim a soft smile before walking over to the nurse's station. Tim walked over to Lucy, sitting down beside her. No words were exchanged and somehow he preferred it this way. Lucy held his hand, squeezing it every once in a while as if she were checking in on him and he would squeeze back. 

Tim felt like he had been waiting for days when in reality it had only been an hour. His eyes never left the double doors that were ahead of them, his body would jump every time someone would walk through them. 

Eventually, a man in scrubs walked through them, his eyes scanning the lobby of people waiting to be seen or waiting for a patient. “Family of Y/N Bradford?” He called out. 

Tim quickly got up from his seat, “I’m her father,” he quickly stated as he walked up to the man. “How is she?” 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Avery, I was the lead surgeon. I am happy to say that the surgery was a success,” Tim let out a relieved sigh. “We’ll need to keep her for a few days for observation of course, but she’ll be good to go home after.” 

Tim smiled at the man, “Thank you, when can I see her?” 

“She’s in recovery right now, I can only allow one visitor,” The doctor stated. 

Tim looked at Lucy, “Go, we’ll come back in the morning,” Lucy said. 

“Do you mind stopping by my place and picking up Kojo? I think Y/N would kill me if she knew he stayed the night outside.” 

Lucy let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, we’ll pick him up.” 

“I’ll have you follow me,” the doctor gestured for Tim to follow him. 

Tim followed Dr. Avery to the recovery room, he knew this hospital too well to know where he was going, but he never thought he would have to be here for a reason like this and he never wanted to be in this hospital again unless it was for work. Once he got to the room, the doctor left to finish up some paperwork. 

Tim sat beside the bed, he gently held your hand. You looked so fragile to him as if you were a newborn, he was scared that one wrong move would hurt you. He waited by your bedside throughout the night. The morning sunlight began to peak through the windows, causing him to wake up. He gave you a small glance, sighing once he realized you were still asleep.  

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes once again, hoping to get some extra sleep. 

You began to stir, you could feel the pain in your abdomen and you heard beeping. Slowly opening your eyes, beginning to realize that you were now in the hospital, the last thing you remember was watching the two men run out of the house. “Dad?” you called out with panic in your voice. 

Tim’s eyes darted open, “Hey,” he said as he sat up in his chair. He grabbed your hand, he was overjoyed that you were awake, but also overjoyed of the fact that you had just called him dad for the first time. Although he was trying to hide his excitement because he didn’t know how to react to it, he had been waiting for this moment for so long and now it was here but the situation was overshadowing it. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked. 

“Like shit,” you stated. 

You winced as you tried to sit up, “Let’s try not to do that for now, alright? I know you’re uncomfortable, but I can get the nurses in-” 

You waved your hand to stop him, “No, I’m fine.” 

“You want to talk about what happened?” He asked. 

You shrugged, “It all happened so quickly. The lights went out and Tamara noticed that the neighbors had electricity and that’s when we tried to call you, but our phones had no signal.” 

“Looks like they used a jammer,” Tim speculated. 

“That’s what I thought, we decided to leave but I wanted to get Kojo-” 

“Kojo can take care of himself,” he stated. 

“Tamara said you would say that, but someone attacked me as I got into the living room. Tamra was already at the door and she hit the other guy with a pan before running to the neighbors. I used all the techniques you taught me,” you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried-” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You fought back and you’re alive. That’s what matters right now,” Tim placed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I remember one more thing,” you began. “When the guy that attacked me stabbed me, the other guy got mad. He said ‘Do you have any idea what he’ll do to us if we bring her in like this?’ in those exact words.” 

Tim felt the panic rush through his body, if his gut was right, he knew what these men were talking about. “Do you think they were planning on taking me?” You asked. 

Tim didn’t want you panicking, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t be safe because someone was looking for you. “I don’t think so,” he began, “But Angela is on the case, you’ll tell her what you told me and we’ll get this straightened out.” You nodded, “Now, how about we talk about the elephant in the room.” 

You looked at him with a confused expression “What elephant?” 

“You called me dad,” he smiled. 

You rolled your eyes, “I can go back to calling you Tim.” 

He chuckled, “No, no, it’s about time you called me dad. I was starting to worry you weren’t going to.” 

“I felt like I lost my chance to do so,” you confessed. 

“Honestly, if you had waited twenty years to call me dad, I would probably be sad that you waited twenty years but, overjoyed that you did,” he smiled.

“Be honest with me,” You began. “There isn’t anyone from my past that’s looking for me right?” You hadn’t spoken about your past in a few years, it was something you wanted to leave behind. “The last thing I need is these fantasmas (ghosts) coming back,” you added. 

Tim sighed, “I don’t know, but you have me there and I can promise that from here on out–” 

You shook your head, “You can promise to keep me safe but let’s face it, you’re not there with me when I’m at school or when you’re at work.” 

“You’re right, I’m not. But I’m a cop. I have my ways and I know you too well.” 

You smiled, “Yeah, I think you do.” 

“Plus, if anyone does kidnap you, they’ll return you in two minutes.” 

Your face turned into shock, “Wh-what?” 

“Trust me, I don’t think they’ll be able to stand the twenty questions they’ll be getting from you or even the karaoke. I give them two minutes before they return you,” you let out a small laugh before you winced in pain. Tim sighed, he knew no matter what that he was going to protect you, and if he failed to do so, he was going to do everything he possibly could do, to get you back. 

[boredzillenial]

“Is That My Shirt?”

After befriending Jake and Marc, one night you find yourself growing a little closer to their brother, Steven.

Themes: college Au, boys are in separate bodies, f!freader is tipsy, mostly fluff, mention of morning wood

Wordcount: 1.2K

You’re sophomore year at college is going amazing so far. Classes aren’t too bad, your RA is lazy and can’t be bothered to keep alcohol out of the dorms, and you’d made fast friends with Jake. While you both often tore up parties around campus you also have a blast dragging his brother Marc out every once in a while.

Despite some initial sexual tension you’d had with Jake and then Marc you three found your friendship much more fun. So most nights Jake would end up with a girl and if you’d done your job of wingwoman right so would Marc.

Their other brother, Steven, is a bit different to say the least. Soft spoken, studies focused and honestly a bit of a nerd. Talking about anime and history whenever the chance arises. Spending most nights watching said anime’s or studying.

One particular night Jake and Marc had managed to find girls on their own and disappeared with them in the dorm building. So you, still piss drunk and now alone, wander back to your room. Banging on the door you giggle “Roomie, lemme innnnn.”

You roommate quickly unlocks the door, giving you a panicked look as she opens it a crack. “Hey, I’ve got a girl in here. Can you stay with your friends tonight please.” She pleads.

“Well-shit everyone’s gettin pussy tonight.” You grumbled “fineeeee, but you owe me.” You groan and stumbl back to the elevator. After what felt like way too long you land on the boys’ floor. You try as quietly as you can to get to their room and push on the door, it’s unlocked.

“Stevie,” you whisper far too loudly. “Stevie itsme donworry.” You giggle as you make your way inside the dark room. “ ‘m jus gonna crash here tonight. You’re brothers are gettin busy - I mean they’re busy t’night.” You laugh.

“It’s Steven…” he grumbles behind a pile of blankets. As you look closer you see he’s got his laptop set up in bed.

“Are you watchin’ anime inthe dark?” You ask as you pad closer, shivering on the cold tile in your party dress.

“What else should I be doing.” He says in a mixture of annoyance and confusion as he sits up. His face is half illuminated by the flashing screen and for a moment your drunken brain dredges up that old flutter in your stomach.

You quickly try to snuff out the rising feeling and slur “Oh, shit I’mso sorry.” You pout out your lower lip, “next party you’re comin’ withus!” You declare with a shiver. “Why’s it so cold in here.”

“I sleep better in the cold.” He shimmies to lay back down. “Just lay over there I guess.” He waves over to Marc and Jake’s bunk bed.

Your teeth chatter as you make your way over to a set of dressers. Unsure who’s stuff is what, you grab a soft oversized shirt and a pair of boxers at random. You glance over your shoulder and see Steven has returned to his original position, laying on his side facing the wall, anime continuing to play quietly infront of him.

Quickly you shimmy out of your dress an into the clothes you’ve commandeered. As you slip into the lower bunk your teeth begin to chatter. “You alright?” Steven calls over his shoulder.

“ ‘s cold.” You whine. “Can I - can I huddle for warmth?” You ask softly, alcohol inhibiting any sense of boundaries you would’ve normally had.

“You want a cuddle?” His tone lilts in surprise.

“Please, I’ll owe you bigtime m’kay?” You plead shivering in the cold sheets.

“Alright c’mon.” He rolls onto his back as you jolt out of the cold sheets and under the warm ones. “Gods your freezing!” He flinches as you press your cold form against his.

“Toldya.” You mutter as you shudder, the remnants of cold chased away by his warmth.

“Lemme just, my arm I need to -“ he sat the laptop across his legs as he sat up again, this time lifting his arm up. Instinctively you nestle right into the open space. His arm lays lightly across your back as you lay your head on his chest. Surprise raises your brows for a moment at how firm he is.

“That - works I guess.” He says softly, settling his arm around you. His gaze lingers on you as you settle in. You glance up a moment, something stirs in you as your eyes connect. “Is-“ he leans in squinting a bit “Is that my shirt?”

“Tell me about what you’re watching.” You quickly look back at the screen, trying desperately to stop yourself from doing something really stupid.

“You haven’t heard of The Last Airbender? Avatar is amazing! This is Aang he’s -“ The excitement in his voice becomes a distant hum as you slip from consciousness. The last thing you’re aware of are the soft circles his fingers make across your back and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear.

~~~~~~

The first sensations that come to you are the throbbing of your head, the shaft of light across your eyes making you squint, and the warm body pressing tightly to your back. You shift a bit to avoid the harsh column of morning light filtering through the blinds, causing the arm around your stomach to tighten and pull you closer.

Steven hums sleepily, his face snuggled into your back. For a brief moment you relax into the embrace. The pounding in your head juxtaposing his warm soft embrace. Well, not entirely soft.

“Ah Steven.” You pat his hand in an attempt to stir him.

“Yeah love?” Still not entirely present his hips rolled slightly. Then like a freight train he gasps and jolts away from you. “Oh I’m so sorry I, oh gods I’m -.” He awkwardly climbs out of bed and hit the cold linoleum with a groan.

“Shit are you alright?” You sat up to see him sprawled across the floor. Keeping the blanket up to your neck for warmth.

“Yeah.” He grunts, staggering in his oversized pjs toward the mini fridge. Glass clinking and the rustle of plastic sound as he turns, in one hand a bottle of water. In the other - a prepackaged bottle of vanilla iced coffee.

“Never pegged you for an iced coffee guy.”

“Oh no, these are Jake’s coffees. Figured he can share.” Steven shrugs, his face flushed as he awkwardly tries to cover his morning wood. “Sorry I- here.” He gently tosses the drinks on the bed and shuffles off to the bathroom.

You laugh weakly under your breath as you took the water, nearly emptying it in a long gulp. Next you crack into the vanilla coffee and sip slowly, blanket falling around your waist as you test just how much your headache will allow you to move.

You hear the shuffle of footsteps as you rub your eyes. “Look Steven I don’t care about your boner I-“ your sentence haults in your throat as you lock eyes with Jake, then Marc.

“Why are you in Steven’s bed, talking about his -” Marc’s eyes go wide.

Jake’s blow wide as well “and why are you drinking one-a my Iced Vanilla Lattes…”

Steven’s soft footsteps sound in the hall, as he rounds the corner his gaze flicker between his brothers and you. Marc and Jake look at Steven, then back at you. That moment will be forever cemented in your mind, Marc’s look of confusion, Jake’s expression shifting from cross to a shit-eating smirk, and Steven’s entire face now a ruddy hue as he tries to slowly back away.

“No no no get back here!” You hear Jake tease as he chases Steven out into the hall with a laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

MoonKnight Bingo Masterlist

Taglist: @moonknight-events @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark @moonknight-events

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for calling my roommate crazy?

I (28f) live with 2 other people, a former college roommate who I’m pretty close with (29f) and 2nd roommate (28nb) who we both met when we moved in together 2 years ago.

Let me start this out by saying, this isn’t a fandom aita, it’s going to sound a bit weird at first, but bear with me.

I have a medical condition (relevant later) which stopped most of my bones from maturing past puberty (growth plates closing, cartilage not hardening into bones, ect.), so my skeleton is basically stuck somewhere between 13-19, (I look about 17-19, but the last time I tried to buy hard cider, the cashier thought I was 14, so that’s how young I can look). I also have very pale skin (unrelated to my disorder, just a ginger), and (related to my disorder) lack some liver enzymes so I need eat meat or I get sick (the same reason why cats need to eat meat), I ended up in the ER when I lived with my vegan sister for a week and ate the same veggie diet as her.

Trouble is, Roommate 2 is really into conspiracy theories and other fringe stuff. Nothing alt-right or anything, just like, (for example) they fully bought into that Mermaids: the body found show, and wouldn’t be dissuaded, even when Roommate 1 googled it and showed them solid proof that it was fictional. Wholeheartedly believes the US government preformed 9/11, does alternative medicine (homeopathy, ect), wishes there were ‘all natural’ vaccines (still isn’t an anti-vaccer though, just needs to be persuaded that Bill Gates didn’t put microchips in them).

Anyway, Roommate 1 and I have a recurring joke that I’m a vampire because of the meat thing and the pale thing and the not aging thing. Roommate 2 overheard us and laughed, but weirdly. She kinda joked along with us, but she seemed...odd. About a week later, they start asking me stuff about being a vampire. But they seemed friendly and not nervous then and I was hoping they were just joking and I also sincerely thought they were just asking me about how vampires work on one of my shows (I’m a big fan of Carmilla and the Originals), so I tried to explain, but I cited each show when I’m explaining a thing. This continued for several weeks, but getting worse and more weird every time, eventually culminating about 2 and a half months later into them asking me more stuff about life as a vampire and I really realised that they were serious. Bear in mind, Roommate 1 and I were trying to be very clear that we don’t believe in vampires this whole time because we both know how Roommate 2 is about this. As a result, this was the first time I really registered that they seriously seemed to genuinely believe I was a vampire. I firmly told them that I am not a vampire and that vampires aren’t real, they’re fun to joke about, but they aren’t real. They implored me ‘to be straight with them about being a vampire,’ and that ‘I could trust them,’ and I’m ashamed to say, I kinda freaked out at this point, cuz I was afraid that they would be scared of me and maybe try to hurt me, since they seemed kinda unstable because of this.

This is where I think I was an asshole, I am usually very sensitive to mental health issues. I have some c-PTSD myself and there are a lot of mental health issues in my family (unfortunately, I think some history with my own mentally ill father may have made me react this way, since he has very similar issues to Roommate 2 (vaccines, alternate medicines, specifically involving me in his delusions) and I had a very bad experience in my early teens where he thought I was a demon and ‘sent to destroy him’). Anyway, I got very upset and I yelled at them, I told them they were completely crazy and needed to get mental help and said I thought Roommate 1 and I needed to move out because they might try to stake my heart or something. I feel really bad for calling them crazy, especially because Roommate 2 has some very mental health issues and words like crazy make light of and stigmatise that and I’m very big into not blaming people for their mental health problems, but this was very triggering and in this moment I was very distresssed.

So, aita, all things considered here? I’m still gonna feel like the asshole no matter what, since mental health problems aren’t to be taken lightly or blamed on the person, but I’m curious what the internet thinks.

What are these acronyms?

[elsweetheart]

saw rin @coeurify write some roommate!abby so i decided to write some too cos i’m feeling #inspired

slutty!roommate!abby short fic / drabble below the cut 💋 minors dni & don’t ask for part 2

It’s not like you were dating. Just living together — roommates, that’s all it was. A shabby and cozy little apartment, tucked away in a nice enough area. There’d be a new problem each week— AC busted, closet door swinging off, flickering light bulb, and you were lucky enough to live with a 6ft blonde walking talking ‘Don’t call the plumber / electrician / whatever, I got it’ machine. Things worked out pretty well.

The two of you were close. Almost too close. Your friendship bordered on simmering sexual tension whilst always keeping it just respectful and distanced enough for neither of you to make a move. You liked to think she enjoyed it, keeping you just out of reach like this. She knew you wanted her, but where was the fun in giving in?

Abby got around. It was no rumour that she had a history of being the community strap, and whilst her crazy days had died off a little — you’d still be awoken once or twice a fortnight to the sound of a new girl with the same shrill moan, headboard thumping against the wall. All you could do was sulk, snuggle down further into your bed covers and will yourself to sleep with your stomach twisting in jealousy at the thought of Abby curled next to someone else for the night.

The two of you liked to have ‘bonding night’, you know — watch a movie, drink wine, eat snacks, sometimes a face mask would make an appearance. Abby had insisted on these nights when you’d first moved in together, so that the two of you could get to know eachother, and since then it had become a tradition every Friday night that the neither of you would miss for the world. Infact, it became such an important tradition that plans were often rescheduled around it, dates postponed, ubers cancelled. Just you, your good friend Abby, and a bottle of something pink and tangy.

“See, I’d let you pick the movie we watch more often but… everytime you do the movie sucks.” She was muffled by the popcorn stuffed into her cheek like a squirrel whilst she scrolled with the remote for an appropriate choice. Abby had real audacity to look this good tonight. She was spread out on the couch, greeny-grey tshirt so tight it was ridiculous, hair down and a little damp from her shower, black sweatpants on (and fuzzy socks, not relevant to her hotness but you couldn’t not mention them.) It took you a second to reply as you pulled your legs beneath you from your curled up position on the chair, subconsciously tucking yourself smaller.

“They don’t suck. You don’t give them a chance! You just talk over it the whole time and ramble about how bad it is.” You shrug defensively, not seeing the way her eyes flickered over to you and lingered with an adoring smile at the way your forehead scrunched and lips pushed forward in an irritable pout. She looked away when you glanced.

“Maybe they don’t suck but they’re always the same. Always a rom com with bad jokes and like 10 minute sex scenes. Is that why you like ‘em, perv?” She nudges you with her spread knee, jostling you which makes your eyes widen slightly — face prickly and hot.

“You think I only watch movies for the sex scenes? Get your mind out of the gutter.” You snicker, fingernails picking at the blanket because, no — it’s not the reason, but she didn’t have to bring that up.

“Hey, I’m not the one picking dirty movies.” Her voice drags in that flirty and sarcastic way that makes your thighs press together. She always did this. It was your thing, you could say. She winds you up, takes the conversation down a sexual route and you just sit there and take it, always scared to make a move. You just couldn’t bring yourself to, what if she was just making fun of you? You live together, if you misread things there was potential for some major awkwardness.

“If I wanted to watch something dirty I’d just… look at porn or something.” You try and combat her teasing, but it comes out stuttery and awkward and you still can’t look at it. Her smirk deepens, intrigue washing over her. You hear her put the remote down and the scrolling on screen halts as she gives you her full attention. Busying yourself to buy more time, you reach forward and take your wine glass — taking a long sip.

“What, ‘you telling me you don’t watch porn now?”

You turn a little, giving her a look. One that read as ‘you’re not seriously asking me that.’

“Do you?”

“I don’t have to. I have sex.”

You scoff, turning your body toward her now with a finger pointed ready to defend yourself.

“I have sex.”

“Oh yeah?” You hate the way she’s smiling and tilting her head.

“It’s just… been a while.”

She sighs casually, leaning back into her seat.

“Same, to be honest.”

“I literally heard some girl screaming your name like two weeks ago.” Your eyes are practically touching your brain from how hard they roll and she laughs cheekily with her tongue pinched between her teeth, a cute roll forming beneath her chin from the position of her head. Your stomach flips.

“Exactly, two weeks ago. I’m trying not to do that so much anymore. Sleep around. Gonna delete the dating apps.” She clarifies, a look of dignity in her expression as she announces this making you narrow your eyes sceptically.

“And why is this? Who is this new and improved Abby?”

Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes. “I dunno. Just don’t think I should anymore. Think I’d rather be having meaningful sex with one person now. You know, the type where you press your foreheads together and tell her you love her when you make her cum and stuff.” She just says it so casually, like it doesn’t make your stomach bottom out into your cunt at the thought of being that one person, whilst simultaneously making your heart stammer at the idea of the person being someone else.

“Y—yeah. Me too I suppose. That’s why I’m just waiting.”

You feel that your response is put together and mature enough for the conversation to come to a natural end so that you can continue bickering over what movie to watch before you embarrass yourself, but she stares at you anyway — contemplative and analytical.

“You’ve been waiting a while, huh?” Abby talks softer, sympathetic and her fingers that were resting along the back of the couch reach a little further and stroke your shoulder briefly. You can’t tell if it’s kind or patronising. Because of this you purse your lips with a shrug.

“Yeah. Haven’t had sex since my ex-girlfriend was still around so that’s…”

“A year and half.” She raises her brows and you mirror her, surprised at how fast she knew the answer. “You’d just broken up when you moved in here.”

“Oh… yeah, that’s right. I suppose that is a long time.”

She breathes out her nose, long and thoughtful before turning her body back to the TV. You do too, because you think it’s over — but the conversation is never quite over until Abby says so.

“Well, if you ever need your fix you know where my door is. You deserve to feel good too.”

She’s kidding, right?

Like, that’s not a serious offer. It can’t be. Because if it were you’d be on her bed sprawled out with two thick fingers up your cunt and not here on the couch getting wine drunk and horny. Your eyelashes are kissing your brow at how wide your stretch your eyes for a moment as you stare ahead, saying nothing. What do you say? How do you seize this glorious potential opportunity without coming across as totally desperate and ruining things? She is kidding, she has to be.

You open your mouth, maybe just to let out a meek ‘really?’ for some clarification, but she speaks again — totally ripped from the moment. “Why do I keep getting recommended only Lindsey Lohan movies? That’s you on my Netflix account right? I swear, I’ll change my password.” She chuckles, like she didn’t just offer to pity fuck you, and you weren’t just considering take her up on it. You shake yourself free of the moment and you don’t talk about it again.

Abby really did stop sleeping around, and you knew that from the lack of moans waking you up in the night. You could have been imagining things, but she’d gotten flirtier too. Wearing tighter fit clothes around her muscles, making sure to always squeeze behind you in the kitchen with her hands on your hips, chest practically to your back with a low ‘scuse me, sorry’ in your ear as she slips by, the lot of it. You felt you were running up the AC, constantly trying to fan yourself off after she worked you up. It was two fridays since she made the offer, and you decided now was the time you’d act on it. You poured yourself a glass of pink wine and waited on the couch, getting in a few gulps before she arrived for confidence.

You drank the whole glass, and she still hadn’t arrived home. Abby had never missed a ‘bonding night’ since moving in, and now she wasn’t showing up at all? No text, no apology, just total absence. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and pissed off, drinking half the bottle before curling into the couch and falling asleep.

You awoke to the sound of giggles and jangling keys, and your bleary eyes cracked open — flickering to the clock on the wall ticking quietly. 2:54AM. You were about to lift your head, sit up on the couch and call out for Abby, questioning where she’d been, why she missed bonding night. You were halted by the sound of two voices, only one belonging to your roommate.

“Shh, gotta be quiet or you’re gonna wake my roommate, baby. Rooms this way.” Abby, and the tottering sound of high heels behind her. You felt sick. Why did you feel so sick?

You close your eyes again when Abby’s bedroom door clicks shut, feeling your lashes grow damp as you pull a cushion over your head — trying to block the inevitable moans and will yourself back to sleep. This wasn’t the first time Abby had come home late after hanging out with friends and found you sleeping on the couch having wanted to hang out, but you’d usually atleast receive her hushed apologies as she lifts you and carries you bridal style to your own room where she’d leave you as you mutter a goodnight half awake to her. She’d never missed bonding night though, because that was off limits.

The next three days you avoided her. You felt more stupid the longer time passed, because you actually didn’t have much reason to be angry. Yes, she missed your Friday tradition but life happens, right? You were certain if it were you she’d be totally fine with it. But it would never be you, because you’d never miss it. It was a vicious thought cycle.

When you’d ignored her on the way out your door for work, she’d put it down to you not hearing her or maybe being in too much of a rush. When you’d come home, you’d spent the evening in your room, only emerging into the kitchen to heat up some noodles before retreating. She figured you were tired. When you’d shrugged her off the next day when she brought home your favourite type of chocolate — she knew something had to be up. She couldn’t work out if it was her, or you were just going through it at first, but when you’d snapped at her on day three — it became crystal clear.

“Can you stop fucking using my towel?” You emerge in the kitchen, and honestly — for the first second before she registers the anger, Abby is just relieved to hear your voice. She turns around from the counter slowly, sucking some salad dressing off her finger from her lunch she was preparing. You looked adorable — still damp, oversized pyjama t-shirt and sleep shorts, comical cartoony oversized slippers on your feet. Despite your appearance, your expression was as serious as ever, brow pinched in stress.

“Sorry.” She shrugs simply, because you’ve never had a problem with her borrowing your towel in all the time you’d lived together.

“Like, can I just come home and not have you all in my stuff?” You huff, going to walk away but she frowns, following you like a big buff lost puppy.

“Hey, hey? What is this? It’s just a towel.” She nearly whines, because why are you being like this? Your usual sweet soft self has gone grainy and abrasive on her and she didn’t like it. You were shutting her out.

“Whatever Abby, I’m just telling you.” You back down a little now, taking a few steps and she gently takes your arm in her large hand. She’s always gentle, aware of how much stronger she is than you.

“You’ve been off lately, you wanna talk about it? You know I’m here for you, right?”

You don’t look at her.

“Yeah, here for me and every other damn girl that walks through your door. Let me go.”

You don’t mean to say it, because God is it telling — you want the ground to swallow you up whole and you scrunch your face in embarrassment as you walk away, shoulders tense and face all hot. You were not this jealous, petty person. She missed your tradition, it was her fault.

Abby gave you your space for the rest of the day, and by evening you’d wound down — anger subsiding as you plonked down on the couch and curled up sulkily, just feeling humiliated and sad. You missed her.

You stared ahead when you heard her bedroom door click open, heavy slow footsteps approaching the living room along the smooth wooden floor. You don’t look, but you can see her standing there at the side, looking at you sadly, henley top and braid adorned.

“Hey.”

Her voice is smooth and low and warm like hot chocolate and you want to bathe in it. You pull the blanket over your thighs tighter over you.

“Hi.”

It was truly an honest mistake on Abby’s part. She’d woken up filled with regret (and a steaming hang over) beside the girl with lilac-y platinum hair, stretching and muttering out a ‘Happy friday’ to break the tension. The girl cracked open an eye with a tired smile and rasped “It’s Saturday, sleepyhead.” making Abby’s heart drop after a beat. Friday’s. They were your days. She was sure you wouldn’t mind missing one out though, you were always kind and gracious like that. The whole bonding night was Abby’s idea after all, it probably wasn’t all that important to you, right? She reassured herself before politely kicking out her bed-mate.

Abby slowly sits down on the couch beside you, and the weight in the room shifts like it always did when she’d join you. She held such a presence that the air would feel thicker and warmer the closer she got, almost to the point where it could be stifling. “I’m sorry I missed bonding night. Manny dragged me out to get drunk and I swear, I thought it was a Thursday—”

You cut her off, which surprised her.

“I thought you were done with bringing girls home.”

She’s silenced for a few seconds, staring at your profile. You’re beautiful even when you’re mad.

“Why does it matter?” It’s soft, like a whisper because she doesn’t want it to come off as defensive or rude like it potentially could do. She genuinely wants to know. Why were you so mad about it?

You were all tense and huffy when you reply and it makes Abby’s heart clench, just wanting to squeeze you.

“Because… because don’t offer something to someone if you don’t mean it. I’m not… I thought we… ugh, whatever. I’m not having this conversation.” You made a mental note to jump back online after this conversation and search for somewhere new to live.

Abby thinks back, and it doesn’t take her long to land on the thought of her telling you she’d be more than happy to take care of you if you needed some relief. Her shoulders relaxed in realisation and brow untensed, and she reached out to stroke a thumb along your arm, body twisted to you.

“Okay, I understand.” She soothes and you want to tear up, maybe in embarrassment or maybe from her tone of voice making you feel small and cared for. You attempt to hold off and fight the feeling. “I thought you weren’t interested. Thought I’d made it weird so I just figured… if I bring someone home things could be normal again. I dunno, it doesn’t make sense now I say it out loud.” She sighs, shaking her head with her eyes closed and brows raised at her own stupidity. You glance at her, shy and still hot-faced and look down at your lap. “Just tell me how you feel. I think… I want what you want. Just need to hear it, sweetheart.”

She can’t make you say it, not after the embarrassment you’ve already faced. So, you settle on another complaint to tell your story. “You don’t know how hard it is… being so pent up and just hearing you… hearing them get to enjoy… you. I wanna feel like that.” You feel pathetic, but your stomach curls anyway at the feeling of her coarse hand sliding up your arm and shoulder to cup the back of your neck, aiding you in looking at her.

“Yeah? I’m sorry. I think you just feel… left out.” She cooes and you preen into her touch, shifting in your seat a little. You say nothing, just let out a little air from your nose. She shuffles closer to you, bringing her warmth. “You forgive me yet? You want me to help you forgive me?” Her other hand fiddles with the blanket on your lap for permission to slide it away, and she’s so close now that you can sigh and lean your head on her strong shoulder, nodding silently. She pulls away the pink fluffy cover up and rests a hand on your bare thigh.

“You know I’d never miss bonding night. ‘D never neglect you on purpose. You’re still my number one, yeah?” She strokes the skin upwards, constantly craning her head down to look at you, watchful of your expression. “I didn’t know you wanted this, sweet girl. I would have taken care of you like you need ages ago if I knew.”

She drops a kiss to your temple and you shudder, your own arm wrapping around her strong bicep to cling to it as your thighs fall open wider. “Yeah? Can I?” She’s quiet and gentle, and you whimper when she cups your hot cunt through flimsy pyjama shorts.

She rubs a sloppy circle over the material and you whine, the sound of wetness already present from your quantity, filling the quiet room. She’d barely touched you, and you were already soaked — it was astounding. “God, you are pent up aren’t you? I’m sorry.” She chuckles in a sympathetic way, free hand coming to smooth down your furrowed brow. Abby stares you down when she slips your thin shorts to the side, fingers slipping and sliding through your drenched folds to circle your clit making you moan softly. “I know.” She hums, eyes on your lips. “You want a kiss? Will that help?”

You can’t talk, so you just nod and she brings you in whilst she languidly rubs your clit, gently sucking on your bottom lip and pressing pecks to it before finally rolling her tongue over yours. With this, she’s pressing a middle finger against your hole and easing it inside, curling up to press against your tight upper wall. You cry out a little against her mouth and she shushes you. “There you go, so fucking tight huh? S’been that long?” She grinds the ball of her hand against your clit and you hump against it, the waistband of your shorts hugging her wrist as the shape of her hand moves up and down.

“Just—needed this.” You struggle, your warm breath heating her lips making her lick over them.

“I know. Gotta use your words next time, let me know yeah? If you said the word I wouldn’t have been sleeping around.” She presses a kiss to the centre of your forehead, lips lingering there as you let out a string of moans and embarrassed pants at the sound of your own wetness against her finger. She slides in another, stretching you.

“Not gonna last long. S’been too long.” You cry and she nods, free hand sliding beneath your lower back when you arch it off the couch.

“I know. S’okay baby.”

When you cum, Abby presses her forehead to yours.

[andypantsx3]

fingerprints | 7 | todoroki x reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 4k of est. 35k words | 7th of 9 chapters

summary: When you’re outed as pro hero Shouto’s soulmate on national television, there are really only two sensible things for you to do: blame someone else and run.  

tags/warnings: romance, soulmate au, fluff, pining, not actually unrequited love, aged up characters, eventual smut

It was worse than you could have ever imagined.

Almost as soon as you’d gotten inside, your neighborhood had begun crawling with unfamiliar people. Your phone had started ringing incessantly, your texts and twitter notifications suddenly exploding.

From the brief flashes of the messages you could see, it all had to do with Shouto. Text whizzed past–hiii i saw your handle posted in a thread, are you really running girl? and Is it true?? Are you Shouto’s soulmate???? and worst of all, die in a ditch bitch you’re too ugly for him.

Your stomach churned.

You didn’t dare open your laptop or turn the television on, for fear of how far the speculation had spread, and what people were saying about you. You tried to ignore the murmur of the crowd amassing outside your apartment building, and opened a random book with shaky hands, trying to focus on something else.

You were not quite successful.

Your apartment building was old and thin-walled enough that you could never fully block out the drone of dozens of voices, the shutter click of cameras, and the loud, authoritative tones of someone ordering people back—likely Shinsou’s aforementioned partner, Real Steel. It all coalesced into an unsettling undertone that kept you on edge for hours.

It wasn’t until that evening, a hundred unread pages later, that conditions changed. The sounds of a muffled argument came through the wood of your front door, and you couldn’t help but peer out the peephole, to find Shinsou looming over your roommate Ami, clearly blocking the entry to your apartment.

“It’s my friggin’ house!” she was saying when you poked your head out.

At the sound of the door, Shinsou turned to eye you. “Stay right there. I need to put her under before she can come in, in case she’s using an appearance altering quirk.”

Your roommate did not look thrilled by this prospect. But Shinsou did not look like he was going anywhere.

Intrigued by whatever Shinsou’s quirk might be, you watched as your roommate gave up, letting him do what he wanted. He murmured a question, and your roommate’s eyes suddenly went vacant with her response.

“Drop your quirk,” Shinsou ordered her. You didn’t know what was supposed to happen–but when nothing did, he looked satisfied.

He gestured her inside, giving you a significant look over the top of her head. “Todoroki says don’t look at anything online.”

You nodded. “I–yeah, I uh–it doesn’t look kind out there. I guessed I shouldn’t…”

Shinsou watched you for a minute, violet eyes sliding over you in some kind of assessment. “Whatever shit they’re saying, disregard it. They just want a piece of Todoroki’s flat ass.”

You blinked, a shocked laugh spilling out of you. “I don’t–-it’s not flat!”

One of Shinsou’s eyebrows lifted, that smirk touching his mouth again, and you whirled around, yanking your roommate through the door with a strangled, “Anyway thanks!” You slammed it behind you before you could say anything else embarrassingly revealing of the stock you’d taken of Shouto’s…assets.

Your roommate gaped at you, immediately demanding the details of how you of all people had gotten caught up in the biggest romantic scandal in hero history. You summarized it as best you could, trying to ignore her slack-jawed look.

“But you’re so normal,” she said when you finished. “You’re just–-you.”

You hid a wince, but had to agree. The last couple of months had been a giddy blur, but you still were just some girl with an hourly wage, working in an animal shelter and living in a squashed little apartment with zero merit to your name.

“Yeah, it’s…It doesn’t feel real,” you said. “Maybe we’re dreaming this.” You thought back to the time you thought you’d hallucinated Shouto in the doorway of the shelter. “Maybe we’re all just experiencing some mass hallucination…”

Ami nodded seriously, like this was an option. She floated off to her room, where you heard her answer a call from another of her friends—“It’s true, you are never gonna believe what she told me!”—and you quickly retreated to your own room, trying not to think about the shock she’d exhibited, or any of the unsettling messages that had flashed past before you put down your own phone.

It made you rethink the events of earlier in the day, frowning as you went over lunch with Shouto’s mom, your wild shopping spree–events that felt light years away now. You could have even sworn that Shouto had been waiting for something as he left you outside your apartment–lingering, watching your face, standing so close like he’d been expecting you to lean up and—and—-

But no.

That was crazy. And Ami’s reaction, plus the reaction of thousands of other people online underlined that.

You’d let your mind run away with you just because Shouto had made you feel like someone. Someone special to him—but that was fucking unhinged. Delusional. Deranged.

As if drawn by your need to remind yourself who you were, you opened your phone again. Hundreds of texts from friends clogged your message app, and your twitter notifications numbered in the thousands.

Hey it’s Mari, one text from your coworker said. I’m covering your shifts for the next couple days, management is asking you not to come in or the crowds will agitate the animals.

Your heart sank. You loved the pets at the shelter, and they were possibly the only beings in your orbit who wouldn’t know or care about your newfound notoriety. You suddenly wanted nothing more than to snuggle into the patchy fur of shelter cat, run off your anxieties with the dogs on the track out back. You would settle for Princess giving you her smug little stink eye over Shouto’s shoulder, even.

And how were you ever supposed to achieve your dream of opening your own rescue if you were suddenly being denied shifts? You hoped they didn’t have to let you go over this—you didn’t want to dip into your tiny pile of hard-earned savings to cover your rent and food, didn’t want to backslide on months and months of progress all because people couldn’t be chill over a man who didn’t even like you like that.

As if to torture yourself further, you let yourself flick through your twitter notifications. Some bordered on kind, things like omg i’m soooo jealous of you and this girl’s first reaction to finding out she was shouto’s soulmate was to RUN AWAY?? queen of relatability but there were many more that were just as you had feared.

Guys relax, it's obviously not real, someone had tweeted. Look at Shouto and then look at her. Another had posted, it’s not even that he’s in a different league, they’re not even playing the same sport.

When a glance at the sidebar showed you that #shoulmatehoax was the highest trending topic in your area, your stomach twisted. You quickly clicked out of the app, retreating into your own room to hide under the covers.

Part of you blazed in rage that people were being so awful about you—you were just a normal fucking person! You never asked for any of this, you had tried your best to mind your own business, and you weren’t a supermodel by any means but that didn’t give people the right to be assholes!

But another part of you knew you’d gotten too big a head over Shouto and needed to be brought down. Spending his money, meeting his mother, thinking he was going to kiss you? You were playing a different sport altogether, and you needed to remember that.

You tossed and turned, rolling around under your blankets, feeling hot and cold and ashamed and embarrassed. No matter how much you tried to put it out of your mind, you couldn’t.

You lay awake for a long while, thoughts roiling, until eventually, when dawn had finally started to creep under the gaps in your curtains, you slipped into an uneasy sleep.

In the morning, you were awoken by your roommate pounding on your door, her voice high and strangled.

“Y/N!” she screeched. “Y/N you’re gonna wanna get out here right now!”

Her fist pounded with urgency, heavy staccato beats. She sounded panicked.

Your eyes shot open and you fell out of bed, clumsy with sleep. You tore the door open, heart in your throat, only to find Ami on the other side, flanked by a tall, handsome silhouette you knew only too well.

“Sh–Shouto!” you garbled out, fuzzy with shock and the clinging threads of slumber. “Why are you–? What are you–?”

He peered at you calmly over Ami’s head, eyes trailing slowly down your form. A white eyebrow went up. You realized with horror that you were still in your sleep clothes, an old tee shirt and the world’s tiniest pair of shorts that clung unflatteringly to the swell of your thigh. Your hair had to be a bird’s nest, your face puffy and pillow-creased.

And here Shouto was, perfect and put together, looking like he’d just stepped right out of the pages of like, a Ralph Lauren catalog. Damn him.

“You were not answering your phone,” he said. You watched, mortified, as his eyes dipped back down to your bare leg and pinned there, like he couldn’t help himself. Your face heated in shame.

He probably couldn’t believe the nerve of you to show yourself like this to him.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said, trying to angle yourself in front of Ami to hide, but he was tall enough that his eyes followed you right over the top of her head.

“Ami, please entertain Shouto for a minute while I, um, put clothes on,” you pleaded, then threw the door shut in both of their faces before either could respond.

You raced to your closet and frantically dug out the first sweater you saw, then tripped over to your dresser and unearthed your pants, bra, and panties. You yanked it all on at the speed of light, and then frantically did your hair, cursing as your fingers tangled in it. You ran into the bathroom and hurriedly washed your face, power washing your teeth with all the speed and force of a carwash.

You spilled out a few minutes later, to find Shouto looking out of place on your couch, shamelessly looking through the collection of things on your coffee table–Ami’s incense burner, a pile of your books, a well-watered succulent in a tiny pot, and a few sheets of what looked like one of Ami’s nursing assignments.

Ami pulled on her coat to head to work, looking almost relieved that she was about to be out of the same room as someone as hauntingly beautiful as Shouto.

“He’s real,” she hissed as you passed one another in the hall. “And he looks like that!”

And then she was out the door, Shinsou’s drawl greeting her as she stepped into the hall.

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with Shouto. Your heartbeat spiked.

Shouto watched you for a long moment, those pretty, heterochromatic eyes sliding back down to your now-clothed legs as if to affirm you were properly attired now. You watched a tiny smile tease at the corner of his mouth as he eyed your slippers, before his eyes flicked back up to your face. Your skin went weirdly warm.

“Um, sorry I wasn’t dressed,” you said, cheeks heating. “I didn’t expect, um, company. Or to leave the house, really, for the next few days–-”

Shouto interrupted you by getting to his feet, and in two long strides he had reached you, pulling you close to him with an arm around your back. He was so tall and warm against you, and that faint cologne of his lingered at his pulsepoint. Your blood went molten in your veins, your brain suddenly blue screening.

“Shouto–?” you asked, muffled into his shoulder.

A large, calloused hand came up to cup the back of your head, pressing you more firmly into his shoulder. Almost automatically, your hands went around his back, fisting in the material of his coat. Every inch of him felt like relief against you, and you had to fight not to slump bonelessly into him, not to curl up and hide in him.

“You were not answering your phone,” Shouto said, finally, his voice a low murmur against the side of your head. “I had thought…” he trailed off, like he was unwilling to finish the thought.

The soft, concerned tone of his voice, and the way he was holding you too him made a weird, shivery sort of feeling well up inside of you. He had seen—he knew what some of the people had been saying about you online. You suddenly wanted to hide your face in his neck, something horrifyingly like tears prickling at your waterline.

Obviously he’d known, already, that you weren’t compatible in the way that soulmates usually were, as evidenced by the fact that he hadn’t made a move on you and was most probably seeing someone already. But hot shame twisted in your gut at the idea that he would have to be confronted with it all over again, for it to really be driven home that with the kind of soulmate he deserved, he’d been given you instead.

You blinked quickly, trying to fight the sudden wave of emotion back. How embarrassing.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, hoping you sounded normal. Really, you could handle a couple of assholes online. It’s not even like they were wrong, necessarily. “Really it’s fine.”

“It can be…overwhelming,” Shouto said, his mouth in your hair. He made no move to pull away from you, just stood there holding you, like it didn’t bother him at all. “You do not have to be fine.”

The care in his voice almost undid you. You clutched harder at his jacket, trying to breathe slowly.

“Shouto–”

“Y/N,” he said quietly. “You do not have to be fine. You did not ask for this.”

You quickly shoved your face into his shoulder as a pair of hot tears finally spilled over, embarrassment curling in your belly. It was just a couple of kind of rude tweets! Shouto was a pro hero and had been subjected to so much worse over the years–-especially given his relation to a notorious war criminal, and the still-widely-condemned former number one hero. It was horrifying that all it took was a couple of asshole tweets to drive you to this, especially when they weren’t even incorrect.

You struggled against the rest of your tears but they kept coming, slipping out and wetting the fabric at Shouto’s collar.

“The agency was able to get the book delayed, and Yoshizuki Ayumi’s next few interviews suspended. She has recanted her speculations in a tweet, but I do not anticipate that the news will be suppressed forever,” Shouto said.

His hand petted over your hair softly, and you wondered, half-crazed, if this is what Princess got to feel like all the time.

“It’s fine,” you said. “It’s fine.”

“There is…something else,” Shouto said. You were too embarrassed to turn and look at him inquisitively, so you made a questioning noise into his coat.

“I regret that…you will not be able to return to the shelter,” Shouto said. “It won’t be safe for you there.”

Your heartbeat stopped, hammering to a halt in your ribcage.

The shelter. Your job. Your dream—

If you couldn’t go back to the shelter, then you couldn’t go back to your job. Couldn’t make rent. Couldn’t put away funds for a rescue.

And if you couldn’t work at the shelter, where else could you go? Was it only that kind of job that was unsafe? Was any public-facing job unsafe? How were you supposed to work anywhere and not show your face—unless…you could get a job washing dishes in the back somewhere. Or maybe unloading trucks or something?

Your breath came fast and you strained in Shouto’s grip, trying to keep collected. You wouldn’t cry over this too–you could find something else. People lost jobs all the time…

“Oh, I—” you fumbled. “I. Yes, right. Um, I’ll look for—something else. You will have to advise me—”

You cut off, horrified when your voice began to creep up into something high and reedy with upset.

Shouto suddenly stepped back from you, and you had a wild moment of terror and disorientation, before he leaned back in, cupping your face in his hands. He tipped your chin up to him, looking grimly handsome and horribly, horribly regretful.

Your tears came harder and you stared at him wide-eyed, not knowing what to do or say.

“I am sorry, love,” he said. “I did not mean for this, when I came and found you.”

You swallowed, conscious of his fingers where the tips brushed your throat, then shook your head. “No, no. I’m so happy that you did. Of course I am—you’ve been so unbelievably kind. Shouto, don’t ever think that.”

Shouto’s mouth was a hard, serious line. “It’s where I met you properly, for the first time. I do not like to see you leave the shelter under these conditions.”

You wished you could stop crying, to be even a modicum of more reassuring. “It’s fine. People have to leave jobs all the time. I have a couple months of savings, and I’m sure like, washing dishes doesn’t need too many creds, or–you’ll have to tell me what else you think could be safe…”

Shouto’s brows knit, and his mouth twisted into a frown. “Washing dishes?” he echoed.

You watched his eyes trace down your face uncertainly. “That’s a bit dramatic. Obviously there’s other stuff. I just thought…out of the public eye…”

Like, unless you had developed a quirk in the last five minutes, there was no way that you could defend yourself against someone who came looking for Todoroki Shouto’s soulmate, regardless of the fact that you weren’t his romantic partner or anything.

“I had wanted to tell you some other way,” Shouto said, his thumbs brushing away stray tears. “But I suppose now would be best.”

You watched him curiously through watery eyes as he let go of your face, hand sliding into his pocket for his phone.

He pulled something up quickly, then turned his phone to face you. You blinked as a shop front came into view, a few lingering tears squeezing themselves out with the motion. It was a kind of charming, free-standing brick building, surrounded by a neat little parking lot. It looked to be a picture on some property portfolio–a map at the side of the page showed a red dot not far in location from Shouto’s apartment, sandwiched between his home and his agency.

It didn’t look like it was open, whatever it was, and you looked at Shouto doubtfully.

“Are they…hiring…?” you asked, mystified.

Shouto’s mouth twitched. “Unless you planned to rescue all the animals by yourself,” he said.

It took a minute to register what he’d said, but when you did, it felt like the floor had opened up underneath you. You took a dizzy step back.

“An animal rescue? My animal rescue?” You asked, thoughts reeling. There was no way. There was no way.

Shouto nodded seriously. “If you like the location. I’ve put an offer in, but if another location suits better, it is changeable. And you’ll need to tell me where you want things—it’s feasible to put a run in, where the parking lot is, they’ve said. And it will be taken apart to install the proper security measures, layer by layer, so it may take some time…”

He trailed off, peering at you somewhat anxiously, you thought, eyes widening when he noticed an embarrassingly fresh stream of tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Do you not like it?” he asked.

You grabbed his forearm, panicked. “No!” you shouted, wincing with your own volume. “No, I love it. Shouto—I—but you can’t—I don’t have the money to pay you back right now. I don’t even have the full funding plan yet, I haven’t—”

One of Shouto’s hands came up to take you by the chin again, thumb stroking just under your eye, smearing the tears there. You thought you’d never been touched so terribly gently.

“I should like to be your funding plan,” he said. “I do not want money from you. You can collect other donations, if you like. But I will fund you fully. And my mother has asked to be included—there is a significant family fortune that needs spending, she says.”

You didn’t know what to do with your face, or where to put your hands, or how to stop crying. You didn’t know anything, except that all you could do was throw your arms around Shouto again, and muffle a hoarse "Thank you," and a sudden sob into the collar of his jacket.

His arms came around you, clutching you to him tightly.

Wave after wave of emotion hit you–anxiety, confusion, happiness, anticipation. It was all a jumble, a wild tangle of things you could do nothing but stand there, holding Shouto like a lifeline.

He held you there for a long time—an embarrassingly long time, actually, while you cried out all your feelings from the last twenty-four hours. You liked that he didn’t prompt you, just stood there silently, tall and strong and warm against you, letting you figure yourself out.

When you were finally able to pull away, Shouto peered down at you, those heterochromatic eyes curious. He murmured something quiet, a query on your feelings.

You took slow stock of yourself, registering a slight caffeine headache and a bone-deep dryness, as though you were a sponge that had been wrung out. You thought you should probably feel other things, too, but those two sensations were the most overwhelming.

“I think…First I need water and also a coffee,” you told him. “I will have to figure out a repayment plan later, when I’m not a mess–”

Shouto opened his mouth but you put a hand over it, heart beating hard with how daring you were being, touching him this much.

“--We can talk about it later,” you said. “Right now, I’m thinking coffees for both of us. Does that…sound okay?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “I am sorry to have woken you,” he said around your hand.

You glanced at the clock, eyebrows raising when you realized it had already passed lunch time. As if on cue, your stomach growled, and you felt Shouto’s mouth quirk against your hand. You quickly drew your palm away, your whole arm tingling with the feeling of his mouth. Your fingers had left little smudges of color at the side of his mouth, almost like you had kissed him, had left an imprint of your lipgloss on him…

“I had also thought we might cook together, if you like,” Shouto said, interrupting that embarrassing train of thought. You followed his gaze over to your door where a tote of what were clearly recently-purchased groceries lay to the side of your door. You spied leafy greens and a bag of rice crowning the top.

“There is a lunch recipe Fuyumi sent me that I would like to try,” he said.

Your heart warmed with the idea, and the knowledge that Shouto had definitely brought food as a means of distracting you from the things people were saying on twitter–to give you something else to do and to focus on. He was so unbearably good.

You could feel your heart ballooning with helpless affection for him as he watched you expectantly–as though there was ever any way you could say no to him.

“Lunch sounds amazing,” you told him. You padded over and scooped up the groceries, then led the way into your cramped little kitchen.

Shouto followed after, his face so carefully still, finally, that you could tell he was trying not to look too smug. You smiled, so full of emotion that you couldn’t even bring yourself to be self-conscious about the state of your kitchen or Shouto’s tear-soaked coat or the thousand other things you should probably be remembering.

And in that small moment, you thought things might actually, unexpectedly, turn out okay.

[rhondafromhr]

Expanding on my “the Monroes adopt Max and he becomes an even worse person” AU

- they take him in not long after he turns sixteen. His dad dies in some kind of freak accident, it makes the news and Linda recognizes the name because she knows everything there is to know about the history of the Honey Queen pageant and his mom won about ten years ago. She also knows that, like every other winner of that pageant, she left Hatchetfield and never looked back, meaning Max is completely alone now. She’s not sure why she cares about this complete stranger, but her heart breaks for him not having a loving home and she decides she can provide that. She’s a great mother, after all, and they already have four beautiful boys, what’s one more? Gerald isn’t as invested at first, but he agrees to it because he supports Linda in basically anything she wants to do.

-Linda keeps trying to give him expensive new things to cheer him up and make him feel like part of the family and she doesn’t understand why he’s reluctant to accept them. His dad was the type to act like providing basic needs (food, housing, etc) was a huge burden and always came with strings attached, saying stuff like “I put a roof over your head, I pay all your sports fees and you couldn’t even win that game?”. She and Gerald eventually figure it out and the next time Linda gives him something, she makes sure to tell him he doesn’t have to take it if he doesn’t want to, but it’s a gift that they got for him because they like him and they’re glad he’s here. That makes him smile for the first time since he moved in. He tells her that he’s glad he’s there, too.

-they try to stick him in an expensive private school, but he wants to stay at Hatchetfield High because he doesn’t want to give up his power there. They go back and forth over it for a few weeks and during that time, someone overhears them discussing it while out for dinner. This leads to a rumor going around school that Max is leaving and it gives all the nerds so much false hope that things could get better. In the end, they let him stay. There’s not a lot Linda and Gerald can’t get away with, but even they’re not willing to risk pulling the star quarterback out of school and making the Nighthawks lose to Clivesdale.

-Pete, Ruth and Richie do end up transferring out to get the hell away from him when he starts becoming even more of a menace, as impossible as that seems. Richie begs Paul to let him finish out high school at Sycamore and Paul reluctantly helps him get a variance. He joins the anime club and the swim team there. Sycamore isn’t as cliquey as Hatchetfield High and a lot of the kids who go there are just as “weird” as he is, so he’s actually kind of popular there and he’s much happier. Ruth starts doing online school. Being away from the constant bullying, her anxiety starts to get better and her confidence improves. She joins a local theater troupe for teens, makes tons of new friends there and lands her first ensemble role. Pete just works his ass off and graduates early, then goes off to UCLA (he gets his own CaliforMIA reprise). Lex and Hannah make it to California in this universe too because why the hell not and Pete ends up being their roommate. I just think he and Lex would be an iconic duo. They’d hate each other at first (she’s a retail worker and Pete’s canonically a rude customer, natural enemies) but then they’d start vibing and the levels of snark would be off the charts.

-When Linda and Gerald see how Max is struggling in school, they hire a tutor for him and his grades actually improve a little. He’s still a nightmare to deal with and doesn’t try that hard, but they pay this tutor such an extravagant amount that they’re willing to put up with just about anything. Just for funsies, maybe the tutor is Ziggy. Idk could be a fun comedic pairing and I like to think Ziggs is smarter than they let on and tutors on the side so their only stream of income won’t be drug dealing - they don’t want people getting suspicious of how they’re making a living.

-Linda and Gerald start going to every single football game with the boys. The whole family is decked out in an obnoxious amount of Nighthawks gear and they cheer for Max louder than anybody else. Max pretends not to care, but he secretly loves it. They’re proud of him and it’s not conditional on whether he wins or not. They prioritize him, clearing their schedules so they can come to the games and always show up when they say they’re going to. His dad never did that for him.

-Max injures his knee during one of these games and he insists he’s fine, but the coach forces him to sit out for the rest of it. He’s worried Linda and Gerald are going to be mad at him for not playing or think he’s weak for not toughing it out, but they’re both just worried about him and want to make sure he’s okay. When they get home, Gerald makes him stay off of it and ice it. Linda fusses over him and his new brothers keep him entertained while he’s laid up on the couch.

-every so often, the school calls the Monroes and tries to talk to them about a bullying incident. It’s pretty rare because Max is the star football player and the administration doesn’t really care what he does, but if it’s a particularly violent one they’ll at least make a half-assed attempt to address it for appearances’ sake. Gerald tells them “if you have that much of a problem with it YOU do something about it.” Linda then reminds them that if they do, their generous donations to the school just might dry up. Whenever Max comes home after, Gerald just laughs about it and claps him on the back, then says something along the lines of “That’s my boy, keeping those nerds in line!” Obviously, this only encourages him more.

-Linda decides to impart her wisdom on him and show him that brute force isn’t the only way to keep people in line and get what he wants. She and Gerald start to teach Max more creative, underhanded ways to hurt people and encourage him to use their wealth and connections to his full advantage. As they say, what’s the point of having money if you’re not going to enjoy it?

-As part of this lesson, Gerald fondly recounts what Linda did to that girl’s skis in that competition back in college and how it was the moment he knew she was the one. He goes on about how hot, successful and smart she is and says that Max should take her advice because she knows what she’s talking about. Max can’t put it into words, but there’s something so healing about seeing the way Gerald and Linda love and support each other. Maybe seeing this modeled teaches him how to have (somewhat) healthy romantic relationships down the line and he and Grace eventually get together and have a similar “horrible to everyone else, loving and supportive to each other/enabling to each other’s bad behavior” dynamic.

-When Max joins the family for dinner with Roman and hears the way he talks to Linda, he can’t control his temper and tells him he doesn’t care who he is, he’s going to smash his face in if he doesn’t shut the fuck up because nobody talks to Linda like that. Gerald, of course, is absolutely delighted. Linda half heartedly scolds him, but is secretly so touched that he stood up for her like that. She and Gerald discuss it, decide Max deserves a little reward and buy him a brand new Range Rover.

-After the incident with Roman, Linda tells Max that he just might be her new favorite. River overhears and this ignites a lifelong, largely one-sided sibling rivalry with Max. He starts kind of emulating Max’s bad behavior and lashing out at school to try and get Linda’s attention and when that doesn’t work, he becomes a huge overachiever instead as a way to distinguish himself from Max and make himself feel superior since Max isn’t very academically gifted. He does genuinely study and work hard but he also pulls every dirty trick imaginable to sabotage any other students standing in his way (some…unfortunate things end up happening to his competition for a few scholastic awards and the one student who’s ahead of him for valedictorian his senior year). Linda’s proud of him and showers him with praise, but all he can think about is that moment Max displaced him as the favorite. He wonders if anything he does will ever be good enough to earn that spot back.

[riality-check]

come get part 4 of platonic hellcheer coparenting! part 1, part 2, and part 3

Chrissy is trying very hard not to be scared out of her mind. For all her effort, she’s failing miserably.

Three separate tests sit on the counter. Three separate tests from three separate brands. The odds of all of them are astronomically low, and she should know. That Google search is the most recent tab on her phone.

(For a moment, when she was typing, she stopped herself, reminded herself that her mom tracks her search history. Then, she shook herself out of it, remembered that she’s twenty years old and hasn’t lived with her mother for a second since she turned eighteen. Then, she kept on typing.)

But oh, God. She’s twenty years old, and there’s three positive tests sitting in front of her.

She’s twenty years old. She can’t even legally get a drink - she’s got a good fake though, and that bartender never looks too hard anyway - but she’s supposed to have a baby? A baby?

She can barely take care of herself. She’s working a terrible minimum wage job, taking phone calls at a truly mediocre pizzeria, but that’s not enough to support her and a kid. Never mind the fact that there’s no place for a baby here, not with a roommate, and she can’t afford this place without her roommate-

Someone knocks on the door, shaking her out of her thoughts.

“Coming!” she calls, and she gets up off the bathroom floor, wipes her tears, and answers the door.

It’s Eddie. True to his word, it’s only been ten minutes since she hung up on him, and it looks like he spent every minute of it sprinting over. She’s pretty sure his shirt is on backwards, and both his shoes are untied, and his hair is thrown up into a bun that honestly just looks like one big knot.

They’re both such messes. How the hell are they supposed to have a ba-

“You okay?” he asks.

Not hi or can I come in or screw you, you’re on your own.

You okay? he had said.

Chrissy can’t help it, she starts crying again right there.

“Woah, okay, yeah,” Eddie says, coming in and immediately hugging her. “Yeah, stupid question. Sorry.”

She hugs him back, clinging onto him because, honestly? She doesn’t have much else. Jason sucks. She’s not going back to him, ever. And her parents-

Oh, God. Her parents. They would want to know, even if she hasn’t spoken to them in years, and-

“Not stupid,” Chrissy says between sobs, just to get her mind off that particular track. “Not a dumb question.”

“I think I should have been able to tell that you aren’t okay,” Eddie says gently, leading the two of them to the couch.

“No,” Chrissy says, pulling back. She wipes off her tears, puts on an intentionally fragile smile, and says, with her nose almost completely clogged up, “I think it’s a perfectly reasonable question.”

That makes Eddie laugh, which makes her laugh, and it feels a little bit better.

They sit down together, and Chrissy watches as Eddie keeps himself quiet by toying with one of the many rings on his hands. It’s the one on his right ring finger, the one he keeps playing with, the one with a big stone in the middle. It doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of them.

Chrissy wonders where he got it from.

Neither one of them says anything, until Chrissy surprises herself by breaking the silence.

“So,” she says, and that’s all she’s got.

“So?”

“So, what do you think?”

“What do I think?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “What do I think? This isn’t up to me, Chrissy. You say how this goes. I’m just along for the ride.”

Oh.

“So, if you don’t want to do this, that’s fine. If you want to, I’ll do it with you. If you want to but want me to get lost, I’ll do that-”

“Why would I want you to get lost?” she asks, interrupting what’s clearly become a nervous ramble.

Eddie stares at her. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“What?”

“Chrissy, I’m a twenty-two year old high school dropout who tried to start a band with his friends and got scammed by a shitty record company. I live with my uncle in a trailer park, I’m studying for the GED, which is way harder than it has any right to be, and I’m never going to be able to love you the way that you deserve.”

Eddie spreads his hands out in a ta-da! motion, and while he’s smiling, Chrissy can see how it’s strained at the corners of his mouth.

“You done yet?” she asks. 

“What do you-”

“Eddie, I’m a twenty year old who hasn’t spoken a word to her parents since the second I turned eighteen. I’m working the world’s worst minimum wage job to try to pay for community college, I used a fake ID at that bar where we met again, and I spent way too much of my life in an unfulfilling relationship because I couldn’t see another option for myself. And, newsflash, I also can’t love you that way.”

“At least you’re in college,” Eddie points out.

“You’re getting your GED,” Chrissy counters. “So you’re no slouch, either.”

“Looks like we’re both wrecks.”

Chrissy laughs, and it quickly turns into a cough, reminding her that, oh, yeah she’s spent a lot of the last half hour just crying. Eddie lets her cough it out, then grabs one of her hands. He toys with it like how he was toying with his ring earlier.

“I think,” Chrissy says slowly, “that if we’re both wrecks, then we should be wrecks together.”

Eddie’s fingers freeze where they’re wrapped around her own. “Are you serious?”

Chrissy thinks for a while. Thinks about the fact that while this is still scary, it’s been significantly less scary since Eddie got here. Thinks about the fact that he’s just as scared as she is. Thinks about the fact that, even though she is scared, this kid will at least grow up with way more love than she ever had.

She already knows she’ll never track internet search histories and calories. Ever.

And, while she doesn’t know Eddie all that well, she thinks that there’s some stuff he’d never do, too.

“I think misery loves company,” Chrissy says.

“I don’t think we’ll be miserable. Not if it’s the two of us.”

“Just the two of us?” Chrissy asks instead of pointing out how Eddie is probably right in a way that makes her heart hurt.

That night, after they’d gotten it over with, was good. Because Eddie is sweet and makes things easy in a way that Chrissy loves.

She thinks it’ll be hard, but she can’t imagine being well and truly miserable with him. But maybe that’s just young adult optimism, since it definitely isn’t the blindness of young love.

“No, of course not,” Eddie says. “My uncle is a fucking saint, he’s gonna try to help out in every way possible, whether we want him to or not. And the guys are all back, and while we’re taking a bit of a break - living and working together for a few years means we just need some space - they’ll help out.”

“I don’t have anyone,” Chrissy says. “Like, at all. I don’t talk to my parents, and I’m never talking to Jason again.”

“Okay. What’s mine is yours, then,” Eddie says, like it’s no big deal. No big deal at all that she can’t have anyone help out the way that Eddie’s friends and family are.

“I’m sorry,” she says. For not doing enough, for not being enough, for choosing the hardest option, even though she does think it’s the right one.

“You’re sorry? You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Eddie says. “If anything, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Derailing your life. Since we’re doing this, right?”

“Yeah,” Chrissy says, and she surprises herself by not hesitating, not even for a second. “Yeah, we’re doing it.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, letting out a long sigh.

“And you didn’t derail my life. I think I derailed yours, but-”

“What kind of life do I have?” Eddie asks. Chrissy wishes she could wipe that self-deprecating smile off his face. It makes him look too sad. 

Sad and Eddie shouldn’t belong in the same sentence, she thinks.

“Let’s not say derailed,” Chrissy says. “Let’s say… switched tracks. We were running on different ones, and now we’re on the same one.”

“When trains do that, they crash,” Eddie points out.

“We’re better than that,” Chrissy says. 

Eddie snorts, but he doesn’t have anything to say to that. 

“So, new track?”

She puts her hand out to shake, but Eddie doesn’t grab it. He just wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for a tight hug.

“New track,” he says, and both of them ignore how he sounds a little choked up.

part 5 exists and so does part 6!

[shangri-la-rights]

You Have Racism In Your Teeth, Or The Moral Neutrality of Accidental Bias

Picture this:

You made a fun little fandom post, and you’re going about your day when you suddenly receive a message from someone you don’t know: they’re telling you that something you said in that post you made was a little racist.

You can feel that squeeze of guilt in your chest—you hadn’t wanted to offend someone! It was just an innocent post, and you didn’t mean it that way.

But… how do you respond? You don't want everyone to think of you as racist.

No Harm, No Foul...?

We've noticed that in the Keepblr community, as well as the larger world, there have been a lot of issues surrounding accidental racism and how people respond to it.

In today’s society, cancel culture has made racism into a buzzword

Because of that, people tend to associate doing something or saying something racist with being a bad person or evil, not caring about PoC or social justice issues, and certain political alignments

Therefore, when someone is accused of doing something or saying something racist (note how that language implies criminality), they often get defensive because they don't think they're a bad person, they had good intentions, and they make an such effort to avoid racism that it doesn't seem fair to consider them racist

We waste a lot of time getting defensive/arguing that we are good people instead of taking criticism, learning from the experience, and moving forward.

Shifting Gears: Get Neutral

We as a society need to get more comfortable with the idea of accidental racism

This does not mean that we should be more accepting of racism, especially purposeful racism!

We should, however, stop assigning accidental racism a morality

Here's a way of thinking about it often referred to as "You have racism in your teeth."

Think of saying or doing something with racial bias as comparable to having spinach in your teeth or toilet paper stuck to your shoe

You might be pretty embarrassed or uncomfortable when someone first points it out to you

On the other hand, you're grateful someone told you, so you could fix it rather than continue walking around without knowing

No one puts spinach in their teeth or sticks toilet paper to their shoe on purpose, and even people who might have seen you with it are not going to jump to conclusions about why it's there; it's nothing to feel guilty about or ashamed of

Also, like accidentally saying something racist, having spinach in your teeth is something that happens to everyone sometimes, and doesn't necessarily mean anything about you as a person (i.e that you're bad and awful, that you hate PoC, or that you are irredeemable and unforgivable for it)

Rather than assuming the person who let you know about the spinach/toilet paper is trying to shame you or make a comment about your moral character, you thank them and go fix it

Similarly, try to control your kneejerk reaction to be defensive or to feel guilty and instead focus on learning from your mistake

You're Not the Only One

We grow up surrounded by racist institutions and history, and therefore all have biases we need to unlearn

Especially given how little people learn and retain about racism in academic settings or in real life, it's not realistic to expect someone to know everything/what's biased and what's not

Everyone messes up, including PoC!

We are all born into a part of society where their view on certain people is biased—take Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, for example

In her TED talk The Danger of a Single Story, Adichie discusses how, even as an educated Black woman from Nigeria, she too had bias.

When she went to college in America, her roommate, Adichie was surprised to discover the single story that had been presented to her roommate of Africa: 

That they lived in poverty, without the knowledge of how to operate electrical devices, and—primarily—that Adichie, as an African woman, had grown up in lack of what her roommate had grown up with.

“What struck me was this: She had felt sorry for me even before she saw me. Her default position toward me, as an African, was a kind of patronizing, well-meaning pity. My roommate had a single story of Africa: a single story of catastrophe. In this single story, there was no possibility of Africans being similar to her in any way, no possibility of feelings more complex than pity, no possibility of a connection as human equals.”

Even she was not immune to this single story: when she went to Guadalajara, Mexico, and found herself surprised that they were people with lives, rather than what the news had convinced her was their sole identity— “the abject immigrant” (08:45). With this realization, she felt great shame.

In the same way, many of us grow up with a similar bias towards other people. Many of us also grow up believing in a single story about other people.

And the single story, as Adichie says, is the birth of the stereotype—something that is not untrue, but which is taken as the only story about people, and bars us from true connection with one another as equals.

And yes, we may feel great shame about it. It isn’t fun to find out you’ve made mistakes, BUT fear and anxiety shouldn’t be the end of being aware of our own unintended racism.

So... What Now?

Unlearning racism, external and internal, isn’t easy until we realize it really is something that we have to manage, just like dental hygiene

Art: Actively seek out artists of color, whether that be authors, directors, actors, etc.

Fortunately we are all human beings who love making art, so once you start looking you’ll be able to find them! 

(Also: feel free to ask us for recs!)

Experience: Talking to the people in those communities and realizing them as real people helps! 

(Remember, though—it’s not your friends of color’s jobs to educate you. Don’t pressure them into answering your questions, and don’t expect them to be your diversity board at all times; first and foremost, they’re your friends, not your anti-racism babysitters.)

And when it comes to realizing that you messed up:

Know that you’re not the only one who’s made mistakes

Accept and understand what you did, apologize, correct yourself where you can, and move forward.

Works Cited/Recommended Resources:

“The Danger of a Single Story”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbdxeFcQtaU

“Tissue On My Shoe”: https://uucolumbia.net/tissue-on-my-shoe/

[messy-thought-dumper]

can I just talk about how genuinely sweet Holden is? like, im rereading the book and he’s just such a nice guy? like, in the first few chapters, at least.

he goes and visits his history teacher, even in the freezing ass weather, just to say bye and all?? and he just lets Ackley hang around, despite talking about how much he disliked him, cus the guy’s lonely?? he even asked him to come hang out with his friend cus he felt bad that Ackley was alone on a saturday night ?? and he tries to defend people and all even when they’re not there!! like, when ackley was shitting on stradlater and all, holden starting telling him that stradlater was really just a nice guy who was a bit conceited and phoney sometimes - but he really means well. HE FUCKING TRIED TO DECK HIS ROOMMATE BECAUSE HE DIDNT LIKE THE IDEA THAT HE JUST WENT AROUND WITH GIRLS WITHOUT EVEN TRYNA GET TO KNOW THEM??? LIKE??? also the whole paragraph about allie !!

there’s probably a lot more that I’ll add later, but that’s all I can remember from the first forty pages rn. but, yeah, he’s just a really nice guy??

[teecupangel]

Submitted by @saberamane

Teecup….I have a new need that I must share.

Modern AU with Desmond and Clay as  BFF’s who do stupid shit. I’m thinking the pairing is AltDesEzi, and one day Altair and Ezio come home and hear some suspicious sounds coming from the bedroom.

Desmond said Clay was coming over…

They slam the door open, thinking they’re going to catch…something going on, already feeling mad and heartbroken…

Only to find Desmond with a controller in hand, and Clay screaming on the bed.

Desmond bought a ‘birthing simulator’, and Clay is not having a good time.

Desmond is having a fantastic time.

And they can tell, by the evil gleam in his big doe eyes, he’s going to try and put it on one of them next…

https://www.facebook.com/reel/812293810659990

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

Additions by teecup:

Desmond Miles was a strange man.

Born as the sheltered home-schooled son of William Miles, there were a lot of things he didn’t know. Ezio had only seen him a few times growing up. He always followed his father during those times and he could count with one hand how many times he had actually conversed with the sole child of the Miles.

His father had requested him to look after Desmond when they learned they were going to the same college. He figured it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle, considering how quiet Desmond Miles was.

Then college started and Ezio realized that Desmond was a magnet for trouble.

Trouble number one was Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.

Okay, he and Altaïr had some kind of childish rivalry going on since they were in the same boarding school. It didn’t matter that Altaïr was a year older than him (and Desmond), they would always find a way to compete.

Sports.

Academic.

Extra-curricular activities.

It always felt like he was racing to catch up to Altaïr and pass him.

And every time he felt like he already did, Altaïr would be hot on his heels and already running pass him like it was the natural state of the world.

Federico once heard him complain about it and simply laughed it off.

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was the heir of Masyaf Corporations. Their banks deal with them regularly. If anything, Ezio was supposed to be kissing up to him.

Ezio refused and…

As they say, the rest was history.

Getting close to Desmond had been easy.

Learning that Desmond chose the same college as Ezio because Altaïr was studying there was annoying.

Learning Altaïr and Desmond were childhood friends, bordering on childhood sweetheart (if one could even imagine Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad having a sweetheart) made Ezio rethink his entire friendship with Desmond.

And then…

Things happened, feelings evolved, college was the time to experiment and learn one’s self and oh boy, did Ezio learn a lot.

He and Altaïr still can’t get along all that well but they manage to be cordial for Desmond’s sake.

They both entered a relationship with Desmond knowing about each other.

Their rivalry hit that stage where they are both trying to make Desmond happy while also half-trying to one up the other.

They graduate and started living together and then…

Trouble number two became Desmond’s roommate.

Look.

Ezio and Altaïr had both wanted Desmond to live with them.

Unfortunately, Altaïr and Ezio didn’t want to live with each other and Desmond thought it would be unfair if he was to live with either of them sooooo…

Desmond found an apartment and got a roommate.

Desmond worked as a bartender for some reason, his bio-engineering diploma gaining dust in the darkest part of his closet.

He did tell them that his mother told him he could join their research and development team any time he wanted but Desmond didn’t really want to.

Oh, it wasn’t because of nepotism. Desmond had no qualms with that.

“Aunt Juno’s a bitch to work with. I intern in their company, remember?”

So yeah, Desmond was willing to just let his college degree whither and die while working as a bartender.

Hence the need for a roommate to keep up with the bills (any offer to give him money for his bills were rejected but he allowed his boyfriends to treat him to food, gifts and homemade meals)

Clay Kaczmarek was chaos reincarnate.

He was a computer engineering graduate who freelances for the highest bidder.

Ezio was pretty sure said highest bidders were more on the side of ‘fuck capitalism’ but it wasn’t his place to judge as a child of old money.

Altaïr knew of him and that was saying a lot as Masyaf Corporations held more pies in the darker part of society that was considered a ‘gray area’ than most companies.

Clay was a good man.

But he was the worst enabler in Desmond’s small circle of friends and the two of them loses most of their braincells when they were together.

They get the dumbest ideas and follow through with them.

It was like they were both making up for Desmond’s quiet ‘obedient’ life as a child and then going one step further.

They’ve never been arrested though and Altaïr or Ezio never had to bail them out but, my god, they never get a head’s up whenever something stupid was about to happen.

So the two of them getting a birthing simulator?

Ezio was pretty sure it was because one of Desmond’s coworker was pregnant and that probably led to the two of them talking about pregnancy and what it would feel like.

Seeing Desmond smile at them sweetly but not bothering to cover up the evil gleam in his eyes…

Ezio was too in love with him to say no even as Clay’s pained screams continued because Desmond has yet to turn off the device in his hands.

So he simply patted Altaïr’s shoulder and grimly said…

“Rock, paper, scissors, best of three.”