#i pay back ben from what you said you could and again you can’t just talk to me

[lilgynt]

i cannot even be sick without my mom being like i will make you want to kill urself

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Childs play (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader [ex-Childhood best friend turned Fwb AU]) Part 1

Hiiiii! I’m so freaking excited for y’all to read this I’m literally shaking! This will only be 1 part. (Edit: I’ve changed my mind it will get a second part but it won’t be put right away) Shout out to @chickenshit03 for beta reading the one shot. Absolute sweetheart 🫶🏼. Not proofread, enjoy!!

(Y/N)-Your name.

NSFW!! SMUT!! MDNI!! Cursing, light choking during the deed , protecting PinV, Miguel being a big meanie near the end, Comfort/Hurt, lmk if I can’t think of anymore

Word count: 4.6k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Knock knock…

“Hello, I’m sorry if I’m intruding but I wanted to introduce myself, me and my family just moved in next door and I wanted to introduce ourselves.” Your mother said as she stood at her neighbors door, you hid timidly behind her leg as she spoke to a Hispanic woman with curly dark hair. Your eyes wandered around her living room, or at least as much as you could catch from your spot. Not paying any mind to the conversation they were having when your eyes spotted a young boy around your age, about five or so walking past with a few legos in hand.

Your shyness was quickly overtaken with curiosity as you went to pull on your mother’s hand, she must have been watching you stare at the brunette, because before you could even turn up to ask her if you could go play, she was already shooing you in the direction of him as her and the other lady went to go talk over coffee in the kitchen.

He didn’t glance up at you as you sat down in front of his spot on the living room floor, being too preoccupied on the Star Wars set he was working on.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“My name’s (Y/N).”

“Cool.”

“What’s your name?”

“Miguel.”

You paused, shifting to sit down better before speaking again.

“Can I help? I love legos.”

He stayed quiet, and for a second you think he’ll say no, until he shrugged and moved the instruction book so you both could read it, making your lips come up in a smile.

“Sure.”

—

“You can teach me to play street fighter a million times and I will never understand it.” You huffed as you dropped the controller on your lap and leaned back on the couch, the tv in his living room sounded out a “finish her” as Miguel’s character killed yours, you couldn’t even be bothered to remember the names, peeved off that’d he beat you for the upteenth time, him not even having the courtesy to let you win one round.

“I’m not gonna be sorry for you being bad.” He retorted in a teasing tone, sticking out his tongue at you, and blew a raspberry. Your arms quickly crossover your chest as you puff your cheeks out with a pout.

“You’re so mean to me Miguel, I hate you.” You mumbled the half-lie to the other ten year old, looking away as you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment, you didn’t even notice his movements until you felt him grab for your hand, turning your head to realize he was now standing in front of your spot on the couch.

“You don’t hate me, I’m your best friend.” He states, making you nod your head in confirmation after a beat, “Good. Because you’re my best friend too.” You smiled.

“Can we play something else then?”

“Nope.”

“Ughhh.”

—

“(Y/N), it’s your turn to spin the bottle.” Mj’s voice snapped you out of your head, suddenly aware of all the other fourteen years olds turning to stare at you. Was it a bit embarrassing you were about to lose your first kiss in a game of spin the bottle?

Half-dried nail-polished fingers gently grabbed the base of the empty Coke bottle, praying to god no one saw the way your hand trembled slightly, as you gave it a good twist. As your eyes tracked the blur of clear glass, you got your lower lip, silently hoping it was someone who you wouldn’t fluster up in embarrassment when you had to tell them who was your first kiss in the four walls of the lunch room. Like Kyle, or Ben or-

“Oooo- you got Miguel!” One of the other girls giggled as your eyes shot up to where the tip was pointing and surely, there he sat in front of you. Miguel was good…yeah, great even! You trusted him, he was your best friend since you were practically in dippers…So with a fine silent look of confirmation, you crossed the circle, closing your eyes as your lips connected for the first time.

Is it normal for your heart to skip a beat during a kiss? God how red is my face right now? Have I been holding it for too long? I wonder if he’s enjoying it, he hasn’t pulled away so that’s a good sign right? I should probably stop now. It's been like four seconds.

You finally pull away, sitting down on your knees as you bring a hand up to wipe some excess saliva away from the cover of your mouth. The sound of the next person going to spin the bottle muffles out around you as you focus on the weird flutter in your stomach.

—

“SLOW DOWN MIG-YOU’RE DRIVING LIKE A MANIAC!” You yelled as your left hand flew to grab at your seat belt, right hand gripping the overhead handle so hard your knuckles were turning white, pushing yourself as much as you could into the passenger seat at you could while he just let out an eye roll and chuckle as you were being dramatic (you weren’t).

“I’m not taking driving advice from someone who doesn’t have their license yet.”

“You got your license yesterday! I don’t turn sixteen for another four months!”

“Don’t care, you could ever shut up or take the bus.”

You couldn’t respond right away because another scream came from your throat as he turned a corner.

“If I die in this stupid car, I’m going to haunt the shit out of you O’Hara!”

“I’m not gonna let you die, stop being dramatic.” He scoffed, finally pulling up to the school parking lot, finally slowing down as he looked for a place to park. His arm comes around the back of your car seat as he goes to backwards park in an empty spot. “See I didn’t let you die.”

“I’m actually traumatized…” You muttered, eyes still wide as you kept still in your seat. Miguel let out a huff and he goes to take your seatbelt off once the car was shut off.

“If I buy you some subway during lunch will you stop complaining?”

“…yes.”

—

“Maybe I could just take a gap year-or-or go to the community college nearby, just until I can transfer, then I can try for Columbia again?” You kept fumbling your words, looking at the rejection letter in your hands. If you tried to focus on it enough, you’d be able to hear the paper shaking lightly in your hands. Glossy eyes trying to rapidly blink away tears before they fell on the paper. Miguel quickly shook his head as he placed his coffee cup down on the table of the cafe you two would frequent.

“No. Not happening, I’ll just reject my application and we can go to Stanford together in California.” He told you, making you copy his actions as you placed the paper down next to your other University letters.

“Are you crazy? That’s your dream school! I am not letting you do that for me. I’d never forgive myself for that.” You admitted, looking at him in those familiar brown eyes, praying to god yours weren’t growing bloodshot from the emotional moment between you both. Miguel letting out a heavy sigh, his hand going to run through his pushed back brown locks as he looked down at his letters again. The silence that grew over you two was almost suffocating, a thing it never felt like around him. It made your heart ache, trying to keep back a whine and some tears as you closed your eyes and took in a shaky breath before opening them again and finally breaking the silence between you both. “I mean…FaceTime is a thing right?” Miguel raised a brow at your sentence, before it clicked in his mind what you were implying. Quickly shaking his head, his hand coming up to stop you.

“No. No. I can’t even go a week without seeing you, I’ve lived next door to you for thirteen years and you expect me to be okay with us being two thousand miles away from each other!?” You glanced around you when Miguel raised his voice slightly, luckily other than you and the owner the place was practically barren.

“Mig, we’ll figure it out! We’ll call and text, FaceTime, and I’ll come back for breaks! And besides, you don’t strike me as a type to enjoy California.” You attempted to lighten the mood, thankfully being met with an amused grunt and his lip twitching up slightly.

“Fine… just, promise we aren’t going to end up like all those friends who stop talking because we’re going to separate college’s alright?”

Your smile grew. “I promise.”

—

Ring…

Ring…

Rin- “Hey it’s Miguel,” your ears perked up, quickly scrambling up from your position on your bunk bed, where you were laying on your stomach, “I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.” Beep.

“Hey Miguel… just wanted to see how you were, I finished my exams for the semester, and I’m going back to Neuva York tomorrow. I wanted to see if you’d want to hang out during the break, let me know… bye…” You mumbled before you hung up the call, tossing your phone on the other side of your bed. Running your hands through your head, letting out a heavy sigh. Closing your eyes to keep any forming tears of frustration from spilling out.

You and Miguel weren’t as close as you’d like to be anymore. How did a few months apart completely unwind the tight knit threat that had kept you both close for years? It had started out well, you did good at keeping your side of the promise and he did as well. Texting every hour, FaceTiming him every weekend, calling every night while you both studied, it almost felt like nothing had changed.

Then, classes became harder, you’d both start to develop new friends, new routines. The text became less frequent, now lagging to every few days, FaceTime sessions were now non-existent and your daily calls now became monthly, never lasting more than half an hour. You hated how you two were growing apart, and it hurt to see that Miguel didn’t seem to care. You didn’t have to see him in person to notice his new friend group was starting to change his personality. He was starting to seem more stoic, dry, it almost seemed like he was constantly agitated or something of the sort when you finally would get a hold of him. Still… despite the gradual change he seemed to be going through you still had hope that deep down he was still the same old Miguel you had grown to love and cherish. And that spark of hope only grew when you heard the faint buzz of your phone from the foot of your bed, quickly grabbing it to read a new message.

Text me when you get in tomorrow.

—

This was not what you had in mind.

Somehow Miguel had convinced you to go to some random bar that didn’t ID with him and his college buddies. “I’ll be fun” he said, “you’ll love them” he said. Now here you were forced to listen to some snobby trust fund kid bitch and moan about how he had to inherit his father’s company and blah blah blah. You weren’t even paying attention anyways, his words were going into one ear and flying out the other, opting to sip on your mixed drink to help keep you from banging your head into the bar counter. Tonight had simply e been the worst. Not to mention Miguel had been acting… different.

Maybe he just wasn’t good with distance, but it still struck you as odd how the second you were both finally in close proximity it was almost as if nothing had happened, like your friendship with each other wasnt badly strained for weeks on end. It didn’t stop there though, no no no. Because now that you were with him in front of his new friends and all dolled up he had been more… touchy, and not in a way he had been before.

A hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, a finger idly twisting and twirling your hair. It was so… intimate… like he wanted them to think there was something there that was more than just a childhood friend. You couldn’t say that you hated it, it was just unexpected.

“Hey… let’s get out of here?” Miguel’s whisper snapped you out from your thoughts. The way his voice murmured lowly against your shoulder as he all but rubbed against it like a cat making your cheeks flare up and a shiver ran down your back. Quickly ignoring the feeling of the spike in your heart rate and the wetness growing in your panties, nodding as you go to stand up, not wanting to be in the over cramped bar any longer and just waiting to head back to Miguel’s place since you were staying there for a week. Feeling like your knees were going to give out from underneath you when he slid his large hand from between your shoulder blades and upwards to squeeze your right shoulder.

Not sure if your hazy mind was from the alcohol or from his actions anymore. Not sure if things would go back to how they were before you’d left when he went to leave sloppy wet kisses on your neck as soon as his apartment door was closed and locked. Not sure if you could look at him the same way after he made you see stars from the comfort of his sheets. Still you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, he felt too good.

“Fuck- felt so fucking good…” He hissed as he pulled out from between your legs, taking a moment to let himself to catch his breath before rolling the condom off and tossing it in the trash can. You didn’t respond, still out of it from the aftermath of experiencing nirvana in the form of drunk sex. Letting out a sigh as you turned to your side and closed your eyes as drowsiness starts to seep into your bones. Feeling the other side of the bed dip before a strong arm came around to hug your waist.

“…Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“This… was a one time thing right?”

A pause, a heavy sigh before you felt his soft lips kiss the nape of your neck.

“… of course.”

—

A flash of light shined through the darkness of your studio apartment. You didn’t even need to check the notification screen in order to know who it was. Only one person would text you at two in the morning.

Come over?

If you told your high school self that the only time you ever saw Miguel was in the deeps of night while you were tangled in his sheets, she would have thought you were lying. The most fucked up part was that it was starting to affect you mentally, how your best friend had turned into a booty call because of one night from a drunk fuck seven years ago, it was painfully obvious you’d never get to the point where you’d be able to go back to the way you both once were. You couldn’t help but cling to the last broken bits he was willing to give you though. So every time he calls or texts you at random hours of the night since you’ve moved back to Nueva York, you’d show up at his doorstep like you are now.

“I know it’s late, I'm sorry, these Master exams are kicking my ass.” He apologized while letting you in after a few seconds. Closing and locking the front door before gently pushing you against it, his lips already finding their usual spot against the crook of your neck. Calloused hands began to slip underneath the baggy material of your hoodie, his large fingers gently grazing the exposed skin, you’ve learned to stop wearing shirts to these sessions a long time ago. “Need to blow off some steam…”

“Miguel…”The way you’d breathe out his name always made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven, your hands wandering upwards against the black fabric of his tank top. His lips separated from the blossoming red and purple mark they left in their wake so he can pull your jacket off before stripping off his own shirt. Your arms quickly wrap around his neck, any guilt that had been lingering in your mind quickly melted away when his hands ran down to your hips underneath your waistband, thumb fidgeting with the thin fabric of your panties. “Need you-“

“Need you too Cariño.” He muttered before going to place a gentle peck against the edge of your lips, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper at the movement. You’ve noticed he never kisses you directly on your lips, always on the edge, on your neck or cheek. You would have felt your heart ache if the feeling of your core throbbing when his hand dragged your bottoms down to squeeze your ass wasn’t more overwhelming, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Half of the time you two didn’t even make it to the bedroom, finding a spot on the hallway wall or against the kitchen counter. This was one of those times, he stumbled over to the couch, too distracted on leaving hickies all over your chest and dipping his fingers into your wet cunt. You let out a gasp when you landed on the brown leather rather harshly, making the couch move a few inches from its original spot due to the weight of both of your bodies hastily climbing on top of it. He made quick work to strip the rest of your clothes from both of your bodies once he made sure you hadn’t accidentally hit your head. Quickly slipping a condom before lining himself up.

“Fuuuuck-fuck…” He groaned, as he pushed the tip of his cock between your folds. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream from the deliciously painful stretch that he always provides. Giving you a second to adjust to his length and girth before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours, each thrust making your silent whimpers and whines turn into pornographic moans and incoherent babblings. “Love filling you up. You love this cock don’t you?” He taunts, it was so cruel the way the words fell from his mouth but you loved it nonetheless. Nodding rapidly as you gushed around him for the first time tonight.

“Nah uh… need to heard you say it. Use your words.” He smirks, enjoying the plop plop sound that started to quietly reverberate off the walls of his living room. Glancing down momentarily to watch a thin layer of cum that was forming a ring around the base of his cock. “Tell me how much you love it.” He urged.

“Fuck-fuck… love it so much.” You moaned, overstimulated from your orgasm, squirming underneath him just the way he liked. He couldn’t help the way his ego swells at the way you feel apart for him.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” He cooed as he propped your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle, his sweet words always messed with your foggy mind. “Such a sweet little thing, all for me.”

“Don’t-don’t say that Mig.” You whined, head turning to the side, as your hand dropped from his chest to drop off the couch. His right hand quickly leaves your hip and runs up to your neck, keeping his grip light as he props your head back to face him with his index finger.

“Aww poor baby, can’t handle when I talk all sweet to her, huh?” He let out an airy half chuckle. Despite the honey-like toned he’d use, the underlying taunt was always present. “Let me make it up to you baby.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he thrust deeper into your core, making your hips subconsciously jump up to meet his.

“Mig-Miguel, I’m so-so close.” You whimpered and whined, clenching around his length, his hips stuttering slightly as you felt the heat building in your lower belly start to grow with each thrust.

“Cum with me baby… Cum all over this cock.” He groaned.

“Fuck-Fuck.” With one final thrust, you finally came undone around him, his name falling from your lips over and over like a mantra. Miguel followed suit, stopping his thrust while fully inside your cunt, letting out a deep groan as he came.

“Shit… You okay?” He asked once he was able to collect himself enough, climbing off top of you before rolling the used condom off his softing member, picking up his forgotten boxers and placing them back on.

“Mhm…” You nodded, trying to stabilize yourself on shaky arms and legs. Miguel seemed to have noticed, picking up your clothes from the floor and making his way over to hand them to you.

“Let me get you some water.” He said before retreating to his kitchen. The only sound in the air now was the faint noises of him rustling around his cabinets, and the quiet shuffling of clothes. Hating the feeling of putting your legging and hoodie back on due to the thin layer of sweat still on your skin. Once you were decent enough Miguel came back with a glass of water and handed it to you. Mumbling a “thank you” before taking a sip. Miguel cleared his throat as he sat down on the other edge of the couch, eyes cast down, hands rubbing anxiously together, finally deciding to break the steadily growing awkward silence. “Look, (Y/N), I wanted to talk to you about something… something kinda important.”

You raised a brow, noticing the sudden change in his behavior, taking another quick sip before placing the half empty glass on his coffee table. “What’s up?”

He released a heavy sigh as he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, still not making eye contact as he continued. “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just put it out there…” He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, “We need to stop seeing each other.”

Huh?

“I’m sorry what?” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop, your face quickly filling up with confusion and a bit of disbelief as you stood up. Miguel follows your actions as he puts his hands up in defense, but you continue before he could try explaining. “You can’t just fuck me on your couch then tell me afterwards we need to stop. You know how much of an asshole you sound?”

“I know, I know it makes me sound like an asshole.” He tried to reason with you, going to finally put on his shorts and tank top that were still on the floor. Not feeling like being half-naked during this conversation. “Look, there’s this girl I’ve been seeing and it’s getting pretty serious-“

“A girl you’ve been seeing?” You repeated in disbelief. “You can’t be for real.”

“Well, we never agreed to be exclusive. It’s not like we were going to start dating or anything.”

Ouch.

You had to turn away so they didn’t see the tears building in the corner of your eyes, but even with your face hidden your body language gave you away.

“I know we weren’t exclusive but fuck Miguel.” You shake your head, going to make your way to the door. “I’ve known you since we were five and you’re just gonna throw me away like some old toy?!”

“Hey-no. That’s not-that’s not what I mean, you know that.” He takes a step forward, grabbing your arm before you could get too far. “We can’t sleep together anymore, but we can still be friends.” You couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips, finally gathering yourself enough to pull your arm away and face him again, not caring if he saw the tears cascading down your cheeks. He’s made you cry one too many times, it’s about time he saw what he did to you. “We can still be friends! You’re still my best friend (Y/N)!” He couldn’t help but let his voice come out in more of a panic, a bit more rushed. You quickly shook your head.

“No. No, we aren’t best friends anymore Miguel, we haven’t been in a long, long time. I know that, you know that. So don’t pretend like we are just because your afraid of losing your emotional support fuck buddy.” You finally head toward the door and towards your car in the driveway, not turning to face him as you hear him call your name. “Don’t call me, don’t text me. If you're as serious about this girl as you say you are, you’d do the right thing and block me. Because I’m so tired of waiting around and pretending like one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m in love with you.”

You froze once the words came out, hand still on the car door handle as you came to the realization you finally admitted the secret you’ve been holding for the past ten years. Your free hand going to cover your mouth as you finally turn to look at Miguel, the look of shock from the confession was evident. You shook your head as you attempted to back track.

“Wait, Miguel I didn’t mean to tell you that-it just happened-“

“… You should leave.” His voice suddenly became stoic, his face hardening so it was hard to read his emotions. “This is just helping my case. Leave.” The tears flowed harder down your face as he slammed the front door shut. Leaving you to sob into the emptiness of the night as you finally let all the pain from the last seven years catch up to you.

You weren’t surprised to see your text bubbles turn green the next morning.

—

“I really think this one is it.”

“Me too!”

“He’ll love you in that dress.”

“Aww I can already see the waterworks.”

All you could do was smile, your hands repeatedly smooth non-existent wrinkles as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a real life princess. After what felt like hours you finally found the wedding dress. You couldn’t be happier.

“Alright Miss future Osborn.” Your maid of honor squealed, finally getting your attention, “You need to get out of that dress, you need to meet up Harry to look over the venue.”

You sighed, as you turned back to admire the white wedding dress one more time. “You’re right, I don’t wanna keep him waiting just cause I can’t stop staring at myself.” You giggled, before heaving to the back.

You and Harry have been dating for four years now, and he had proposed last month during your anniversary. You couldn’t be happier, he treats you like a queen, better than any other Man you’ve ever been in romantic contact with.

Once you had finally finished changing out of your regular clothes, you grabbed your phone out of your purse. Sending a quick text telling him that you found a dress, before doing a quick check on insta, wanting to look at the engagement pictures you posted on your page last week. But the soft smile on your face quickly dropped, like your heart did to your stomach when you checked your activity page.

Miguel.Ohara.99 and 4 others liked your post.

Miguel.Ohara.99 started following you.

1 message request from Miguel.Ohara.99

Fuck.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @scaryplanetdestroyer @miguels-aranita @beezusvreeland @raginghomo62 @miguelbaby @thedevax @vera4luv @alialucille

[starkwlkr]

how bout a teenage Ruby fix where she starts dating, or maybe even a baby Ruby fix where she has like a fake wedding with one of her classmates and of course the absolute meltdown of Charles

here comes the bride | charles leclerc

i have several request for teenage ruby dating so i went with the fake wedding <3 and here we have the return of ben iykyk (he’s a classmate of ruby that appears in another fic) thanks for requesting!!

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when Charles received a piece of paper with crayon scribbled all over it from Ruby. He had just come back from his run and all he wanted was to take a shower and sleep so when he read the paper, he didn’t pay attention to it thinking it was just something Ruby wanted him to put on the refrigerator door with magnets so he did exactly that.

After taking a shower, he walked to his bedroom where his wife was waiting. As he passed by Ruby’s room, he saw her wearing her princess dress and heels, posing infront of her mirror.

“Ruby Jules, it’s time to sleep. You can dress up tomorrow. Put away your toys, okay?” Charles told her.

“Okay. I have a big day tomorrow, papa!” She smiled then proceeded to put away her Barbies in their designated spot.

Charles didn’t think much of it. Again, he thought that maybe she had a playdate the next day so he kissed her cheek and tucked her into bed. Then walked to Mathéo’s room and did the same.

The following morning, Charles was making himself a cup of tea when he heard the doorbell ring. He wasn’t expecting company, but he opened the door anyways. Once he did, he saw several of the neighborhood kids and Ben, a classmate of Ruby, with toys in their hands. They often came over to play with Ruby.

“Hi Ruby’s papa, is Ruby here?” A boy asked.

“She’s in the backyard playing.” He let the group of five kids in. They knew their way around the house so they ran towards the backyard to play with Ruby.

“Isn’t it a little early for them? It’s eight thirty.” Y/n checked her watch as she made her way into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“Ruby got up early too. Look at her, she’s already in her princess outfit. She was wearing it yesterday night.” Charles said.

“She’s been wearing it all week I think. And those plastic princess heels with Snow White on them. Last time she stepped on my foot with those I thought I was going to die. They fucking hurt. I want to punch whoever invented them.” Y/n said as she opened the refrigerator door to get milk for Mathéo’s bowl of cereal. That’s when she noticed the paper that Ruby had given Charles last night. In pink and blue crayon it read:

‘Ruby and Ben wedding

Where? Outside

When? Morning

bring toys for the bride and Ben’

In a matter of seconds, Y/n pieced it all together. So that’s why Ruby wanted her dress to be washed and for her toy chairs to be lined up in the backyard. As Charles watched the kids play outside, Y/n took the paper from the refrigerator. She then joined Charles by the glass sliding door that led to the backyard to watch the kids.

“Why does she need all of her stuffed animals outside? They’re going to get dirty! See? Floppy just fell to the ground and Snoopy’s fur is starting to be a different color! What if I go out there and tell her to put away her toys? The other kids brought toys, she could play with those.” Charles said then sipped on his tea.

“Well you can’t crash your daughters wedding. You’re going to look like an asshole.”

Then Charles spat out his tea getting all on the glass door. “What? Wedding? Nobody is getting married!”

“Oh my dear sweet husband.” Y/n laughed. “I’m guessing she gave this to you. I just saw it on the refrigerator door.” She handed the paper to Charles.

As he read it, Mathéo ran down the stairs with his own stuffed animal in hand. “Come on! We’re going to miss the wedding!”

“He knew about the wedding too?!” Charles was pushed outside by his son, Y/n following her boys to the backyard.

“Maman! Papa! Théo! You made it!” Ruby gasped as she saw her family walking towards her and Ben, who was dressed in a simple white shirt and black shorts.

“Yeah, I live here.” Charles stated. “Ruby Jules—” he was about to tell her the wedding was off when Y/n stopped him.

“It’s fake, Charles. Just let them play.” She reminded him. “Come on, let’s sit with the rest of the bride’s family.” She saw three empty seats next to Floppy and the rest of Ruby’s stuffed animals.

“Fine, but I’m just saying. . . No boy will ever be good enough for my precious girl.” He was about to sit down next to Floppy but Ruby stopped him.

“Papa, you have to walk me down the aisle. Please?” Ruby asked.

Charles couldn’t resist. Ruby was his little girl, of course he would do anything for her. So he grabbed her hand and took her to the end of the ‘aisle’ and while baby shark played, Charles and Ruby walked towards Ben.

When they reached Ben, Charles crouched down and look at the boy. “Don’t make my little girl cry or be sad, okay? If you do, all of Italy, Monaco and her uncles will hate you—”

“Charles, babe, don’t threaten the kid.” Y/n warned as Charles got up and placed a kiss on Ruby’s temple.

Charles then joined his wife and son and sat on the uncomfortable tiny plastic chair. “I thought I wouldn’t have to do this until she was older.”

“You’re okay, you’ll live. And I thought I would be the one crying when Ruby got married.” Y/n teased.

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 4/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, sorta prostitution, kinda dirty, violence

Word Count: 1834

A/N: This is part 4 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

After another agonizing silence, you turned on the radio. But even Bob Seger couldn't lift the mood with his night moves. You groaned in despair and let your head fall against the window. Soldier Boy watched you out of the corner of his eye for a while before he patted your thigh and got over himself. “C´mon (y/n)! Don't be a grumpy little bitch", he tried his best to sound relaxed and cool but you just turned to him with your eyebrows raised. "Are you kidding? You broke my damn wrist!”. Your voice was filled with amazement and anger.

“Uh-uh! A bit more than sprained. Not quiet broken. There’s a difference”, he raised his index finger for emphasis, moving his gaze back and forth between you and the street.

“Ben!-”. “I fucking apologized, didn’t I?! It was… not intentional and certainly not planned… Who would have thought that you-". This time you interrupted him. “That I what? That I don't suddenly take off my panties for you? Ben! I thought we were friends?”. Your voice cracked slightly towards the end.

“I don’t have any friends,” was all he replied.

“Well, thanks for the clarification!”, you bit back. “How the fuck am I now the bad guy again?! I apologized! I'm trying to do the fucking right thing here and you're making it fucking hard for me not to kick you out the damn Car!". Ben was really trying to understand you, but he was new to this. It was new to him, not being adored and worshipped.

“Are you really listening to yourself, Ben? I'm probably the only person on this damn planet who cares about you. And you…why did you have to ruin that?”. This time even he could hear the disappointment in your voice. Still, he didn't know how to make amends for what he had done. “(y/n) I-”. Ben rubbed his beard and looked at you discouraged. “Why did you think I would… let you sleep with me?", you looked at him and felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "Shit, you can barely say it without blushing". Despite the depressed mood, Ben couldn't help but chuckle a little about that fact.

Another silence followed.

“You’re fucking hot (y/n), okay? And I'm horny. Since Russia it feels like I`m horny 24/7. And you doll can’t deny that it would be handy for you to let off some steam too”.

Ben’s eyes found yours. He wasn't lying, but you knew he was hiding something from you.

No matter how long your dry spell had lasted and no matter what Ben would say or do, you could never confess to him that you had been attracted to him from day one. Those words would never pass your lips. Towards no one. Ben was pretty “nice” to you, well at least by his standards. And even though you got along pretty well, it could never be anything more than friendship. Soldier Boy just wasn't a good person. He was incapable of showing emotion, let alone loving anyone but himself. So why should you get involved with him? And even though you had dreamed countless times about him giving you pleasure, fucking you stupid and giving you orgasms like no one else could, you had your principles. No sex without feelings.

“Flattering, but no”, you said, trying to be gentle.

"Why not? A shitload of women would fucking pay for that, do you realize that?”, he replied, stunned. “Okay, listen", you turned to him in the passenger seat and fixed him with your gaze. “Why do you want to sleep with me so badly? Why me? If there are so many women who would do anything to have you fuck ´em unconscious, why clinging to me? Tell me what makes me different? and… well, if I like the reason, maybe I'll think about it". You obviously upset Ben with your words. You could see all the wheels in his brain turning and even after a few minutes he didn't have an answer to your question.

"I thought so. We’re here”, you sighed, getting out of the car. “Give me 5 minutes head start”, you added before slamming the car door and walking with fast steps across the large parking lot. “Day drinking and prostitution, here I come,” you grumble to yourself.

What Butcher had told you, went absolutely against your morals, but you had felt beyond useless for the last few weeks, which was why you finally wanted to prove to yourself that you were useful for more than just tracking down Supes. Although you couldn't imagine anyone more disgusting to set an example than the Deep.

When you entered the bar, the first thing that hit you, was the smell of marijuana and cheap perfume. Even though it appeared to be an upscale local, the owners didn't seem to have much to offer their employees. You looked around and saw half naked girls dancing on poles, fat old men on the sofas in front of them with drool running down the corners of their mouths and in the middle of it all, the Deep. “You got this”, you motivated yourself before taking off your coat, placing it over a bar stool and smoothing down your too-tight and short dress. With a smooth movement of your hand, you threw back your laboriously curled hair and walked past your target's lounge with confident and elegant steps. “Three, two, one-”, you whispered as you felt a hand on your forearm.

“Hey beautiful, where are you going with those beautiful legs of yours?". Oh, how you wished you could have rolled your eyes. Instead, you spun on your heels to find the Deep leaning back into the sofa, letting go of your arm. “Don’t you want to join me?”, he grinned at you. Unfortunately, putting on a show and playing ´hard to get´ didn’t work for him because his brain cells weren’t up to it. “Oh shit, you’re the Deep, aren’t you?”, you feign surprise, holding a hand over your bright red lips. “That’s exactly what it looks like, baby. Come here, come to me”, he didn't pat the sofa, but rather his lap.

After a few minutes of small talk you could finally see Ben from a distance, but he first looked at all the dancing ladies. You tried several times to get his attention but to no avail. He was only a few steps into the bar and two girls were already grinding on him. And Ben being Ben, he wasted no time and starting with cupping their asses. One of the two pushed him onto a bar stool while the other started giving him a lap dance, wearing nothing but a lace thong.

“So baby, don’t you want to show me a little bit of yourself?”. Kevin’s right hand stroked your thigh under your dress while you lay in his left arm. He pushed you further into the sofa, his hand squeezing your ass and making you gasp. In order not to completely give up control, you pushed against his chest with all your strength and quickly slipped onto his lap. With your legs on either side of his thighs, your dress rode up. Anyone walking behind you would have been able to see your bare butt if Kevin hadn't immediately covered it up with both hands. "Hmm… You want to be in charge, don't you?". You could already feel his erection against your thigh, which only disgusted you more. “How about we dance first?”, you grinned at him, hoping to buy some time. “No, no, no, but you can sure dance for me, baby”, the Deep replied with a big ass smirk. You took Kevin's glass and drank it in one gulp before slipping off his lap and taking a few steps back. Your heart began to beat like crazy, but you gathered all your courage, ignored the lustful looks from the other guests and Kevin and started moving your hips slowly to the beat of the music.

That was also the moment when Ben finally noticed you. He sipped his whiskey, licked his lips, and watched you from his spot at the bar. He ignored the two women who were still dancing for him. His attention was solely on you. "Uhh, someone's getting really hard", the blonde moaned in his ear while her colleague stroked up and down Ben's upper arm. While your eyes were on Kevin, Ben was looking at his crotch. “Shit”, he growled, pushing both women away with a jerk.

Meanwhile, Kevin didn't hesitate anymore, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap with a strong tug before grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours, which was absolutely not the plan. You should only distract the Deep long enough for Ben to put something in his drink at the bar.

When Ben saw the Deep stick his tongue down your throat, anger overwhelmed him. Within seconds, he ripped you away, pushed you onto the sofa and grabbed the Deep by the collar of his supe suit. Kevin didn't know what was going on and could hardly say a word. “Ben! What are you doing?", you shouted at him as all the other customers stormed out of the bar one by one. “This son of a bitch is fucking disgusting. A worthless piece of shit. I should rip his head off here and now”, Ben hissed.

“Ben, stick to the damn plan”, you admonished him, slowly lifting yourself up. Ben's eyes darkened with anger.

“You better listen to your little friend”, Kevin gasped, trying to save his own dear life.

"You'd better keep your damn mouth shut, fuckface". Ben let go for a split second before sticking his large hand through Kevin's supe suit into his gills, lifting him up and shushing him.

“Ben! we can't kill him! Ben… Please.” While the Deep was panting in pain, Ben finally looked at you.

"You're going to let that fucker rub his cock on you, but make a fucking scene when I kiss you?!".

In the middle of his sentence, Ben's mood changed from angry to stunned to angry again.

Very angry.

Ben's suit-covered chest began to glow and his hand relaxed, which Deep used to escape. “Shit, shit, shit!”, you gasped. “Ben, stop!”, you tried to calm him down, but to no avail. Knowing that you had absolutely no chance of getting out of here alive if you stayed, you ran towards the exit as fast as you could. You ran for your life. Seconds later you heard a loud bang and everything around you went dark.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 5

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy

[starfilmz]

can’t stop thinking about a scenario where instead of sam getting trapped in hell for a year as a vessel, but dean instead, who made sam promise him to finally live his normal, apple pie life if things goes down south.

unlike dean, sam didn’t have people like lisa and ben to come home to, to feel normal again.

but then came you.

actually, you’ve been in sam’s life for as long as he could remember. you’re a friend he met in stanford— the information technology student who happened to go to the same psychology class as he did.

the night after it all happened, sam arrived at your door after researching your whereabouts with bobby. it’s probably the middle of the night, but he knew you’d still be awake if you still kept your old habit. but what doesn’t know if you’ll let him in after years of no calls or text.

you were his last option on keeping his promise to dean, so when you opened the door and welcomed him into your home with opens arms, he felt like he’ll be alright. even if it was just for a moment.

“hey,” sam greeted you with a lopsided smile, a mixture of pretend and his nerves getting to him seeing you for the first in the a while. “it’s been a while...” his voice faded when you’re eyes visibly widen. looks like you remembered him.

“oh my god, sam winchester?” the sound of his real name coming from someone who wasn’t after him or was a hunter felt strange, but humanizing in a strange way.

sam stumbled on his feet as you practically lunged into his chest, feeling your arms wrap around his neck. the hug surprised sam, his arms stuttering before deciding to reciprocate.

you were laughing, not at him, but from the excitement you were visibly showing him. “it’s been more than a while! it’s so good to see you, sammy.”

sam hated anyone calling him with the nickname given by his brother, but for some reason, he didn’t seem to mind. you reminded him of dean, specifically the non-traumatized part, that unwavering endearment he didn’t know if he deserved matched the both of you.

sam blinked, ignoring how the grin on your face looked like dean’s, and he didn’t have the willpower to make further small talk.

“can i come in?” he said, scratching the back of his neck. he felt awful for being rude, especially to an old friend he hasn’t seen a while, but you still kept a bright expression as you gestured him inside.

that’s where his new life started. with you and the promise he’s keeping in his mind.

sam vaguely explained his situation, keeping the angels, demons, and apocalypse talk to himself and just said how his father and brother was gone. he had no one else, so he found you.

sure, you were skeptical at in the beginning, but you had a soft spot for this man ever since you first laid eyes on him. when you saw sam in front of your door that night, you could only remember the teenage boy who kept to himself for the rest of the class, refusing to raise his hands when it was obvious he knew the answers, and who struggled to look for a project partner.

that’s when you stepped up, first came to his world.

so, you allowed him to live with you. your apartment was big enough for two, one bedroom and an empty guest room you’ve been using a storage space. but sam kept it clear he’ll be paying for everything he’s going to use.

when sam wanted to go job hunting, you were the one beside him searching along. when he did get a job, for the first time in a while, sam was able to go home to a house that had freshly cooked food filling the air.

you were willing to teach him how to cook some of the meals you’ve prepared in most dinners you two shared when he asked. you worked too, some days longer than the rest, and he wanted to make dinner for you. when the opportunity came, a few bites in, and you had to reopen the stove when sam realized salt and pepper wasn’t the only condiments he could use.

sam used to refuse to drive your car to work, or literally anywhere. at this point, you knew sam’s life story (vaguely, unfortunately, as some details were still hidden for your sake) and couldn’t blame him for it. sam couldn’t step inside your car without reminiscing dean and his constant urge to free him from hell.

one of the many things he felt bad doing was going out in the middle of the night and lying about where he’s going. sam told you he liked to go on a walk during the night, or he forgot to buy something that he needed by tomorrow, and you believed him. in truth, he was at bobby’s finding a way to save his brother, reading scriptures after scriptures and digging ancient artifacts he never even knew existed.

sam usually arrived early in the morning, just right after you went back to bed. as a way to lessen his guilt, he’d cook a light breakfast for the two of you and eat with you as he once again lies about just waking up.

he thought he could keep up with his lies that just got worse by the day, until one night of research with bobby got into his head. there was no spell, ritual, or artifact that has worked and it got to him. before he could realize he’s back home, your house, sam opened the door to you in the living room.

you were in your usual position on the couch, computer on your lap and a half drunken coffee on the table. sam was obviously disheveled, hair a mess and clothes wrinkled in spots he balled his fist into.

“sam, hey, are you alright?” as if a dam cracked in sam’s head, he suddenly poured his heart to you. he was telling you everything. from his mom, to his curse, his real former job, dean’s real cause of death, and how everything is his fault.

that night you’re beliefs had changed—whether it was for better or worse— and sam clung to you, desperate and frustrated in himself, at lucifer, bobby, dean, even you, and he doesn’t know what to do anymore. so, instead of questioning him like any sane person would do in these types of situations, you decided to believe him again.

again and again, you brushed off your own worries and allowed sam’s tears to stain your shirt.

work be damned, you’re not letting this boy cry himself to sleep alone.

the next day, sam was still pretty beat up from last night’s event and while you did try to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, he hated it. instead of going to your respective jobs, you and sam both sat in the living room and talked. sam began talking about, well, the beginning. and after that grueling yet relieving conversation, sam decided to never lie to you again.

and after a year, you were the only person in his life that made him normal. sure, there were some demon prevention marks all over the house, and hex bags that covered both yours and his tracks, you and sam lived a normal life.

that was until a very much alive dean knocked on your door.

[paddockbunny]

One

Summary: Aria Armund is hired by Alpine as an "image guardian" for a reluctant Pierre Gasly - AKA she is hired to be his "babysitter". What happens as the season progresses and both of them have their buttons pressed by the other? And what happens when one of them suggests making a rather interesting bet? Rating: 18+. Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Aria Armund (OC) Word Count : 4,418 Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, misogynistic Pierre, language, mention of sex & blowjobs, descriptions of women's bodies etc. 💞Authors Note : This is going to be written from a first person narrative and will switch from Aria's POV and Pierre's POV. No idea how long this will be but I'm considering posting every race day (not sure yet due to work commitments, as usual). OH, and if you want to be added to a tag list then please comment on the newest chapter's before I make a dedicated page for it!!

Pierre

I let out a long, laboured sigh as I slide into the car. I really didn’t want to be doing this. I would much rather have been still in bed with Jessica - or was it Jenna or maybe Jennie, fuck maybe it was Julie? It began with a J in any case. And anyway, who fucking cares?! All that mattered was I had to peel myself away from her this morning to get to the factory on time for this dumb as fuck meeting. A groan escaped me as I suddenly remembered how fucking phenomenal Jessica (Jenna, Jennie or Julie) was at giving head and how I would much rather be getting sucked off right now rather than go to this boring meeting where some big wigs will talk AT me not TO me for a few hours and waste my day.

Ben opens the door on the other side of the car and gets in. He slides into the back next to me and I can’t help but glance over at him as as he checks his watch and tuts about the fact we’re going to be late. I let him stew instead of answering him. There’s no point. Last year I realised pretty quickly he was one of those types of guys. The ones that were so regimented and anal about doing things right and on time that even a minute behind schedule and he would be having an internal meltdown. I just let him do what he wants without input from me. So I pull my phone from my jeans pocket and smirk to myself when I see a DM from a Jocelyn Silva pop up - JOCELYN! Her name was Jocelyn! - so I click on it and it’s a photo. She’s lying in the bed I had just left her in throwing the camera some “come hither eyes” with a tiny little pout dancing across her full (filler injected) lips. But I only fleetingly glance at her face, it’s lower that I pay more attention too and the fact the bedsheet barely covered her exquisite boobs and the deep sun kissed glow from her tanned skin. I’m sure she said she was a model or trying to be a model and really, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine her in a bikini or lingerie in front of a camera. I swallow instinctively upon remembering what she tasted like last night before actually reading the text that went along with her provocative pic.

Jocelyn_S_Silva: 💋 last night was fun Papi, let’s do it again sometime?xxx

Was it too soon to ask if she would be down for tonight? That picture she sent was enough to give me blue balls for the rest of the day. I clear my throat so I don’t laugh aloud at how ridiculous I sounded. No pussy was that good to go chasing after so quickly. So I sent a stock response back;

PierreGasly: until we do…give me something to remember you by?🍑

And click off my phone to stare out of the window hoping I could stay in control of the blood rushing down toward my dick. It was raining (again) in England. The country looked so dull and grey in comparison to some of the other places we visited with the travelling circus that was F1 but they wanted me here, in Enstone for a meeting ahead of flying out for testing next week. Ben’s ear had already been significantly chewed off about that. I was supposed to be at the PSG match tonight, had a date lined up and everything - Aletta Dekker, sister of Lars Dekker the Dutch tennis player. We’d gone out a few times, fucked a lot, but I actually got on well with her. We could chat without feeling the need for it to go anywhere. It was just some fun with no strings attached. I didn’t have the balls to let her down over the phone so chickened out and text her saying I needed a rain check. The irony now as the rain hammered down on the car as we drove down a monotonous English motorway was not lost on me.

It took close to two hours to get to the factory. I never stayed near it simply because there was fucking nothing there so we’d come up from London to the factory and go back when the day was over. It wasn’t like all those years at AT where you could at least be in the beautiful Italian countryside and take in the stunning landscapes out the window, not fields and copious amounts of cows and sheep. When we finally pulled in front of the building where all the offices and important rooms with important people in them were, Ben finally asked if I knew what this was all about. Seriously, he didn’t even question this random meeting until the moment he stepped out of the car and I couldn’t help but shake my head at him. I liked Ben, he had become a good friend over the course of last year. It’s hard not to grow close to someone you see pretty much every day and does everything with you.

“No idea.” I told him as he rounded the back of the car as I shut the car door. “Hope I’m getting a raise for dealing with all that shit last year though.” Ben laughed at my words, which weren’t intended as a joke but must have sounded like one. As two of the guys from Alpine came out from the building to greet us, apologise for the bad weather and issue us inside my phone buzzed in my pocket and I wondered if that was the photo I had asked that Jocelyn girl for earlier. Took her time didn’t she? I made sure I didn’t scoff and tried to stay professional as we walked through the building while the guys I had met a million times before talked about the weather and asked me if it was better in Paris - clearly not clocking the tan I was sporting to realise I had certainly not spent my winter break in Paris.

“We’re just in here, Pierre.” The shorter, more rotund one of the two opened the door and held it open for me. I’d been in here before. It was where I had that big meeting with the big bosses after the incident in Singapore but the less said about that the better. I recognised everyone in the room. Otmar and the like were all sitting around the oval table and got up immediately to welcome me. But my eyes were firmly trained on the mass of long brown curls and feminine shoulders that were still sat at the table facing away from me. This was a new addition. There hadn’t usually been a woman at these meetings before. I glance around and confirmed no one had been fired and I hadn’t found out. So maybe she was just a new PR girl or one of the girls that worked in the offices at the factory. Otmar suggested I take a seat and so I did. The mystery girls head turned slightly, enough that I could make out some of her features. Cute straight nose, naturally full lips and high as hell cheekbones. She had to have only been around 23 or 24 perhaps? But maybe I was wrong and she only just looked younger - I wasn’t the best at women’s ages and my I knew better than to presume I knew anything about the feminine being anyway - anyway, as Otmar started speaking I would be sure to find out exactly who this new addition was.

“As you know, at the end of last season I told you I would be discussing things with some of our bosses and whatnots at the end of year review we have. The big debrief meeting where all the heads of department get together and talk about the good things and the not so good things that happened and how we could look to improve in the future. Y’know, like our race debriefs at the end of a race day….” Yeah Otmar, I know, I’m not fucking stupid get to to point. I pull my leg up and rest my ankle upon my opposite knee while I sit back in the chair and nod in the right places. “Well, one of the things that kept coming up was the tension between yourself and Esteban and the incidents that arose last year.” He means him running me off the track at two separate races, trying to break test me anytime I was behind him, me bashing him in front of the cameras any chance I got but it was probably, the public near fight caught by cameras in Singapore when I tried to get my own back by flirting with his girlfriend that was what he was really referring too.

“Pierre with your results last year there’s no doubt of your future within the team but the negative attention the pair of you have garnered has raised a lot of concern.” “Otmar I…” I was going to tell him it takes two to tango and if this conversation was happening with me it better be happening with Ocon too. He was as much to blame for last year as I was. But a hand made me pause while he continued. “However, after some deliberation on how to resolve the conflict and how we can possibly move in a more positive direction for all of us involved. We have decided to bring in an image guardian.” I look at him like he’s grown another head. What the fuck was an image guardian? And that was when I saw his hand flick over toward the girl that had momentarily occupied my mind before Otmar started talking.

This time, when I looked over at her, she was looking straight back at me with quite possibly a pair of the most striking blue eyes I had ever seen before. A soft, sincere smile spread across her lips as her hand rose from her lap in a “that’s me” gesture. Fuck, I couldn’t help but imaging those eyes staring up at me while she had her lips wrapped around my cock. Which involuntarily twitched in my jeans while I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t daydreaming. The words “image guardian” were still ringing in my ears so I most certainly in reality and not a twisted dreamland. “Sorry, what exactly is an image guardian?” I had truthfully never heard of the term and was one hundred percent certain they were making this up. “Well, we felt that the added pressure that the press and marketing teams had to face last year was rather, unfair to them. Their jobs turned into looking after or, perhaps that’s not the right words, making sure the both of you were looked after which meant some of those PR people weren’t as focused on their jobs as maybe they should have been.” I knew he was indirectly referring to Claudia without actually wanting to say her name but the less said about her the better. “So we created the role of an image guardian specifically to make sure your own PR game is onboard with ours. Someone who can liaise from your side with regards to meeting the needs of the team.”

Things took a minute to click in. He was bullshitting. This was a totally made up job so they could make someone my fucking nanny. “A babysitter?” I exclaimed loudly, my anger clearly evident in my voice and body language mimicking it. My foot fell back to the floor and I leaned in. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” I glance back over toward this girl whose name I didn’t even know (but who moments ago I had envisioned fucking) that was now labelled as my fucking au pair. “Pierre, it’s image guardian and we feel that you do.” Otmars voice changed tone. He was now not as breezy has he had been. He turned direct and much more commanding. “This is bullshit.” “Esteban has also been given an image guardian who will consult regularly with Miss Armund to ensure a more harmonious season this year. I can’t stress enough how this needs to work, Pierre. You know what can happen if it doesn’t.” I fucking knew. I had seen how people like Ricciardo and Mick Schumacher had been treated. Fuck! How I myself had been treated a few years ago at Red Bull. But a minder? Really? “And what is it she’ll do?” “I think Miss Armund is best to talk to you about that.”

“Hi…” She was nervous. She took a pause after simply saying hello. I was probably glaring at her like I wanted to set her on fire which might not have helped, but rage ran through my veins like boiling hot lava. “Firstly, I just want to introduce myself. I’m Aria Armund. I was born and raised in France till I was 10 and then moved here to England so if you want to talk to me in French you can, I’m bilingual.” There was a pause when she looked at me and I could tell she was waiting for me to say something polite (probably in French) but absolutely nothing came to mind that I wanted to say to her. She took a little breath in and it was usually while I was giving girls the come on when they got this nervous around me. I rolled my eyes and pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth as the pause seemed to get longer. I observed her straightening up and let out a quick exhale. She seemed to be gathering herself and I clocked her little touch of the bracelet on her wrist as if it was somehow giving her the strength to keep going.

“So basically, what I’m here to do is to look after you. You’re not particularly incorrect in thinking I’m a “babysitter” as you called it. My sole purpose is to keep you out of trouble. To minimise any issues you may have with your team mate and prevent them from leaking into the media. I’ll also help make sure your image doesn’t suffer from all of your liaisons with various….friends, and you don’t end up on the gossip pages as you have done in previous years. I’ll make sure your reputation and that of Alpine isn’t damaged in any way, shape or form.” Where did her sudden directness come from? Her nerves seemed to evaporate immediately. It was confusing it happened at such breakneck speed. But how she managed to take control of herself and take charge was nothing shorter than a major turn on. She could take control of me anytime she wanted. “Ok?” She smiled and it was now on me.

I had nothing to say or at least nothing came to mind as those swimming pool blue eyes stared into mines like they were trying to read my mind. As she turned her head away and Otmar went to speak suddenly a question did pop into my head. “Who does Ocon have?” I asked the question in the direction of her turned head. When she looked away some of her glossy curled locks fell across her shoulder and drew my attention directly to her ample chest. She was a woman - very much a woman - and I had a horrible feeling that Alpine might have been trying to set me up for failure. What with everything that happened with Claudia. “Excuse me?” Otmar seemed confused. “Who is looking after Ocon? You said he had a babysitter too.” In those minutes my question went unanswered, I hoped it would click on someone’s brain about why I was asking and I wouldn’t actually have to fucking say it. “Uh….” Otmar sat back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at me in a fashion that told me he twigged and he realised the intonation behind my questioning. He didn’t expect me to react like this, did he? During the increasingly awkward pause I fully believed that he was imposing this girl on me as a way to trip me up so he could get rid of me at the end of the year. If Esteban got a guy babbysitter then there was my answer. He would be getting off with his dickhead behaviour last year. “Mr Ocon’s guardian is Kyle Gilby.” Aria spoke up and I let out a quick exhale of air. Why the fuck did this not surprise me? I knew it. I could sense it from the way Otmar was staring at me. Ocon gets someone he can talk to, level with and I get stuck with her? Typical. “Is there a problem Mr Gasly?” Fuck her calling me Mr Gasly. Girls only usually called me that in the bedroom, not a boardroom.

I pretend there isn’t but there is. The whole thing is totally fucked but what can I do? I don’t want thrown out my seat so I have to play ball. And if that means I have to have a babysitter then fine, I’ll do it. This whole thing was feeling like a massive, risky, fucked up game of temptation? I made an audible scoff because I know where this is going and I know she won’t last long meaning they’ll probably get their way. I can’t help the fact I was born a flirt and women always fell for it. I’d give it two or three months before they’ll be having conduct meetings with me after she breaks her fraternisation contract clause after firing her for sleeping with the person she’s there to manage. It’s happened before and it will happen again. After all, it’s their own fault for hiring someone that would look more at home in Playboy or Sports Illustrated than working in an F1 team. They seriously couldn’t have hired someone less, tempting? They couldn’t have given her to Ocon and at least pretend they weren’t setting me up for failure?

Thankfully the meeting was over rather quickly. There were orders to go with her somewhere so she could do something or other and go over stuff but by that point I was zoned out. I cancelled my plans for this? They could have just told me over the phone. I didn’t need to be here in person when it would have been a quick email. I try not to sigh when I lean forward in my chair to get up but notice her move first. When she rises from her seat I can’t help but cast my eyes over her body. A perfect rack was hidden behind a satin-y type blouse and her smart, tight trousers did little to stem my attention away from her perky, peachy rear practically begging to be spanked. I was right. Playboy or Sports Illustrated. She would look so pretty on her knees. Give it a few weeks, I tell myself. By Miami she’ll be begging for me. I can tell.

Fifteen minutes later we were sat in a smaller, more bland impersonal office while she tried to convince me to hand over my social media passwords. “Mr Gasly, I assure you that your accounts and information will be safe with me. I simply need access in order to keep on top of any potential Alpine related business.” She was getting me riled up at this point. “Last year I believe there were, incidents, over social media with some questionable comments?” She was referring to the emoji’s wasn’t she? The PR girls laughed about them last year but she said it with a straight face. “I simply need to be able to delete anything that would be unsavoury toward your own reputation and the team.” “Telling people my favourite sex position through an emoji is not damaging to my reputation or the team.” I retort back with a smooth laugh. I thought it would throw her but the silence and stoney face I was met with made me push it even further. I smirked before adding; “it’s the dog by the way.” Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I couldn’t recall the last time I wasn’t able to flirt and smooth talk a girl into at least raising a smile. But there was nothing from her. “It’s the dog because my favourite position is doggy…” “Yes, I gathered that Mr Gasly.” She hastily shut me up and I noticed her roll her eyes. Was she not into men? Maybe that’s why my forwardness wasn’t doing it for her.

“Please, your passwords.” I watched as slowly she placed her pen on top of a notepad and pushed it across the glass topped table toward me. Her eyes didn’t leave mine. They stayed trained on me as if she had gone through military training. Unflinching. I would have been complaining if they weren’t so fucking captivating. You could get lost in these eyes.

“Earn them.” I glanced over toward Ben and smirked again. It was a game at this point. I couldn’t help myself. “Excuse me?” “I said, earn them.” I didn’t even know where this was going or why it was coming out of my mouth. I just went with it. I liked how women would squirm a little when I turned it on and I desperately wanted to know she was eating out of the palm of my hand, so sue me. But if I expected her to crumble like all of the others she surprised me. She sat back in her chair and took a deep breath before exhaling. For a brief second I thought I won and I managed to rattle her but unfortunately for me, apparently not.

“Listen, looking after a twenty-seven year old self confessed playboy is not something I thought I would be doing when I got this job so if you think your flirting will have an effect on me and I will pull a Claudia, was it? Then you are very much mistaken.” It was I that was rumbled. And she had to mention last years indiscretion by name so she had clearly been told all about it - or had she read about it online and didn’t need anyone else’s judgment about it to pass her own judgment on to me? “Now…Mr Gasly, your passwords.” Touché. Fucking Touché.

I reached for the pen and notepad and noted how much I felt like a child. It was as if I had been sent to the Alpine School’s principle’s office for being naughty in class. As I wrote down the passwords for her highness, my phone buzzed again in my jeans pocket and it suddenly l dawned on me that she would see everything I received. She would see all of the DMs I was sent along with the mountains of nudes (such as those waiting on me from last nights hook-up) that various girls sent me, mostly without a single shred of prompting. I should probably have felt a little embarrassed or ashamed by them in all fairness but for some reason - probably because she was acting like a fake ball buster she actually was one - I wasn’t. Let her look. There’s probably a fair few suggestive ones of myself on there she could find too if she really wanted too. I cursed the route of thought my own mind suddenly drove me down as now I was imagining her sliding her hand down past the waistband of her tight trousers to get off on the risqué pics I had floating around in some conversations. But she didn’t seem like the type. Fortunately for me the passwords were enough to appease her, for now. She smiled - a fake one of course - and said that was all, I could leave before adding she would would see me at testing. She would be at testing? This girl was really going to be sticking to me like glue, wasn’t she?

Thankfully, this whole fiasco was clearly coming to an end and I glanced toward the door and was desperately trying to think of something smart to say and a way to get out of here. I didn’t want to hang around for any longer than I needed to and certainly not long enough for her to continue getting one over on me or getting a metaphorical upper hand again, but it looked like she had and there was nothing I could do. When I happened to look toward Ben I realised he was smirking and clearly holding back a laugh. He was married and so never really joined in (nor understood) with the flirting and flustering behaviour I was king at. Now, after I had lost the opening match against her, it was as if he could read my startled little mind and I certainly didn’t like that. I arose out if my seat opposite my new babysitter and stared at her for a moment. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever worked in F1 - or even just a sport - before because she didn’t act like how all the girls usually acted around guys in sport. She simply seemed unimpressed. Stoic almost. “Goodbye, Mr Gasly.” A normal girl would be turned on by saying that over and over again. By now imagining how it would feel to be bent over the glass desk and having me rail them into next week. But she used it formally, professionally and without a single shred of sarcasm. I just about managed to get to the door to the office when my phone buzzed loudly one more time and I paused to remove it from my pocket.

“I hope that isn’t something I am going to have to get involved in?” Her sweet, soft voice echoed from behind and my sudden laughter filled the room as my brain had come up with the most perfect of perfect responses. “Not unless you want to make it a threesome?” I didn’t hang around long enough for her to respond and mentally high fives myself for my quick retort. She lead herself into it and my brain couldn’t catch up to my mouth. She may have been hired to be my babysitter, but that didn’t mean I had to make it easy for her.

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟜 ✧₊∘

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

Day 4: Overstimulation, Oviposition/Egglaying, Human Urinal

𝐄𝐠𝐠-𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐲 ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ Jɪᴢᴢ Fɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ

| PAIRING(s): splorgimum!Mr. Ben x reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 1.3k | CONTENT: crackfic, academic foreplay, eggs, erotic filming | SYNOPSIS: Mr. Ben is down bad for you. Deadass.

“I know you said our sex organs are compatible but our hormones and liquids aren’t, but can’t we try something new? Something fun and, like, ovum adjacent?” you pout.

“I guess I could  figure something out if that’s what you really want,” splorgimum Mr. Ben agrees. “I love that adjective usage, baby. Have you been reading that Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary I got you?”

He licks his lips as he palms himself. It was kinda a weird kink of his, but it made sense for a teacher, you suppose. You just hope this wasn’t going to veer into Geometric Proofs again unless he was going to tessellate that cock into your pussy.

“Yeah, I bookmarked it at defenestration,” you purr with a sultry emphasis on the window ejection term.

He shuts his eyes and groans as he grabs at himself through his dark gray dress slacks. “God, you know what vocabulary does to me. Say something else.”

“Nomenclature,” you hum seductively.

Mr. Ben grunts. “Fuck, say something else. More.”

You walk your knees across the bed to him and lean into his ear.

“Antidisestablishmentarianism,” you say in a tantalizing hush.

Mr. Ben’s hips jerk as he grunts at your foreplay.

“You wanna hear me talk about the Dewey Decimal System?” you coo as you run a hand up his chest.

He looks up to the ceiling as if he’s trying to hold it together and is barely hanging on by a thread. “If you start talking about proprietary library classification systems, I’m not gonna last,” he breathes out heavily.

“Then let’s stop talking, and let’s start fucking,” you suggest with a lewd tug at his raging hardon.

“Yeah,” he agrees, running a thumb over his bottom lip. “Lay back for me, baby.”

You settle onto the soft bed and let him use his spaceboi powers to make your clothes disappear. He breathes excitedly as he pulls out his phone and centers it between your legs. You squirm under the gaze of his camera lens. 

“Lemme just make this Fan Cam of your pussy really quick, baby,” he coos. He taps something on his phone and a bright light illuminates your glistening cunt. “Incredible,” he breathes.

You tug impatiently at his navy blue sports ball themed tie. “Ben, please,” you beg.

“Okay, okay,” he says with a sigh. “Gimme just a sec. Gotta…make sure this… zoom and transition…  is seamless…..” he trails off as he concentrates on his work.

“Don’t you have enough Fan Cams of my pussy, Ben? There’s thousands by this point,” you pout.

He makes a noise like he’s paying attention, but he’s clicking around on his phone again. You hear a slowed down reverb version of Britney Spears’s Toxic playing low in the background. “That’s a good one,” he says to himself.

“BEN,” you call his attention back.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs with an apologetic grin. He sets his phone aside. “I just hafta make them. You’re my beloved, and your pussy has me in a chokehold.”

You moan at the praise.

“You’re in your Coochie Meow Meow era, and it’s nom nom delish,” he whispers into the shell of your ear as he braces himself above your body.

You grab for his cognac colored leather belt and work it open with deft fingers. He helps to free his massive cock from the confines of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. 

“Put it in me, please!” you whine.

He shoves himself into you all in one go. You cry out in pleasure. 

“Oh fuck yeah,” he groans as he thrusts sloppily into you.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he stretches you.

“Say something dirty to me, baby,” he urges as he snaps his hips harder.

“The Oxford Comma isn’t mandatory. It’s grammatically optional,” you rasp.

“Ohhh FUCK. Keep going,” he begs.

“The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell,” you moan.

“OH GOD, I’M GONNA OVIPOSIT IN YOU, BABY.”

“You’re so Daddy! Periodt!” you wail.

“Hhhngggffff- fuck! I’m Daddy, and you’re Mommy,” he cries out. 

You feel a large oblong spherical shape stretch your walls as you both climax. “Ohmygod, Ben! It’s so big!!!”

He grunts as he empties himself into you, smearing his creampie fingers onto the bedsheets on either side of your head.

“Yeah, baby. I’m giving it to ya real big. It’s that C = 2 π r you love.”

He pulls out of you with a gasp. Your pubic mound looks like it swallowed a giant avocado. “What is that?” you ask breathlessly. You feel so full.

“It’s an egg, just like you wanted,” he hums, rubbing his palm against the shape of it where it bulges out from your lower belly. This should really do it for those belly bulge kink sluts you think to yourself.

 “Push it out, baby. Let’s see it,” he spurs you on.

You start bearing down as hard as you can. “Why does it feel all plastic-y?”

“Please do not be alarmed,” the splorgimum voice reassures you telepathically. “It is not derived from such materials. There is no risk of microplastics in your sexual organs.”

“Oh okay, good,” you breathe a sigh of relief. You push as hard as you can. You feel like the Bettie Page of Easter Bunnies. You push and push until the rounded shape moves from where Mr. Ben placed it.

“That’s it. That’s my little Omelette Princess,” he praises.

You break a sweat working it out of you, but finally it emerges. It shoots out of you like a tshirt cannon at a baseball game. Mr. Ben uses his sensual splorgimum spaceboi powers to make it levitate in the middle of the air. It slowly spins, and you can just make out the words underneath the splotches of your slick dripping all over it.

“Is-Is that what I think it is?” you breathe.

Mr. Ben nods and grins triumphantly.

“A Ryan’s World Giant Mystery Egg Series 12?!” you gasp. Tears brim in your eyes. It’s so beautiful floating in the air. You can barely contain your excitement at the thought of holding it. “But that series isn’t even out yet!”

“Only the best for my girl,” Mr. Ben coos.

“Can we–?”

“Of course,” he affirms with a warm smile. He lets it float down into his hands. You begin hastily unwrapping it together. Something is different about this one.

“A Ticonderoga #2 pencil?” You’re bewildered. Where was the slime packet? The minifigure? The collectable stickers?

You dig in further. Mr. Ben pulls out an SAT Prep book. He groans lustfully. “Gonna set that aside for later,” he says as he gives you a lecherous wink.

All in all it wasn’t a bad haul. Just strange. You smack the yellow ruler design slap bracelet onto your wrist and watch it instantly wrap around it. “Cool.”

“I guess I, uh, kinda came up with my own Mystery Egg surprises for this one,” he admits sheepishly. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You hold up the Lunch Lady Paulina minifigure and turn it fondly in your hands. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” you say in a reverent, hushed breath.

“No, you’re perfect. I know I’m your bias and that I always munch on it, but I just don’t get it. Why did you choose me?” he asks in a shaky voice.

“We chose each other,” you whisper as you draw him in close.

“You eat it up,” you moan. “No crumbs left.”

“Oh fuck, let’s make a Fan Cam together,” he moans into your mouth as he captures it in a passionate kiss.

“Anything for you, Skinny Legend,” you rasp.

Mr. Ben clicks a few times on his phone before you hear Sza’s voice low from the speakers. You spread yourself open for him and let yourself sink into the comforting and arousing dulcet sounds of

ᵢₜ’ₛ cᵤffᵢₙg ₛₑₐₛₒₙ

ₐₙd ₐₗₗ ₜₕₑ gᵢᵣₗₛ bₑ ₙₑₑdᵢₙg

ₐ bᵢg bₒy

ᵢ ₙₑₑd ₐ bᵢg bₒy

ᵢ wₐₙₜ ₐ bᵢg bₒy

Gᵢᵥₑ ₘₑ ₐ bᵢg bₒy

tagging everybody that wanted to be tagged in the first one plus a couple of extras

@wannab-urs @gracieispunk @milla-frenchy @patti7dc @lumoverheaven @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @xdaddysprincessxx @toxicanonymity @rubyfruitjungle @huffle-punk @jupiter-soups @swiftispunk @bonezone44 @psychedelic-ink@theywhowriteandknowthings @multiversed-daydreamer @beefrobeefcal @clawdee @criticalarchitecture @katiexpunk @covetyou @sugadolly @koshkaj-blog @obscurexsorrows @elegantduckturtle @kdogreads @pedrit0-pascalit0 @admiralackbarssugarbaby @party-hearses

[lilcatdraws]

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Eight - Life's Full of Surprises

Warnings: Character death, angst

Chapter Summary: Jack comes home and things are not at all how he imagined they'd be.

Author's Note: I'm gonna go ahead and apologize in advance 😅 I did not wanna have to kill off this person but it's character development for Jack. He's been through so much already I know, but you have to remember that it had to be a lot for him to eventually snap the way he does. You don't just randomly wake up one day and decide to become a mass murderer.

No I didn't use Heaven Beside You as the song inspiration because someone dies, it's deeper than that lol. I've also had this reoccurring scene in my head where Jack is driving down the road listening to the song at full blast. At this point he's broken from war and now this has happened. He's angry and hurting, mad at the world. This song just seemed fitting. Also I love Alice In Chains <3

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know! <3

Jack walked through the bustling crowd of people with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He’d just got off a flight from Fort Benning. After he left Afghanistan, he went back there to finalize some things and officially be discharged.

The airport was not far from his hometown, less than thirty minutes away. Jack’s plan was to call the house and have somebody come pick him up. He knew it would most likely be his mother. 

He went over to the wall of pay phones and fished out a quarter from his pocket to put in the slot. He dialed his home phone number and waited. There was no answer. He tried a second time but still nothing. 

Okay… Scott’s probably at work and Mom must be out somewhere. Weird… I won’t bother with them then. 

He was unsure how he was going to get home now unless he rented a car. Then he remembered Mike. According to his mom during their last phone call, Mike was still going strong. Surely he wouldn’t mind taking him home.

Jack pulled a small notebook filled with contacts and another quarter out of his pocket and searched for Mike’s number. He was so glad he carried this with him. He wouldn’t be able to remember the number from all those years ago if he didn’t. The phone rang for a few moments and then someone picked up. 

“Hello?” A gruff voice said on the other end.

“Mike? This is Jack.”

“Hey! How ya doing buddy? Haven’t heard from you in a while.” 

“I’m alright I guess. Listen, I’m at the airport right now. It’s the one near Fairfield. I can’t get a hold of anyone at home and I was wondering if you could come give me a ride. I’ll be out front near the parking lot.”

“Of course. Give me about 20 minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Okay. Thanks Mike.”

Relieved that he had a way home now, Jack grabbed his stuff and headed towards the front. He sat down on a bench outside the building and watched the parking lot, bouncing his leg anxiously. He didn’t know why but since the plane landed he felt super jittery. He wasn’t sure if it was all the crowds of people making him uneasy or the thought of being home again.

Some time later he saw Mike’s car pull into a space. The short and stocky man climbed out and scanned the area for Jack. He spotted him and walked towards the bench, smiling. When he got there, he pulled Jack into a bear hug.

“Jeez, you’ve really filled out. How tall are you now?” He exclaimed as they walked to the car.

Jack laughed. “Good to see you too, Mike.”

He laid his duffel in the floorboard and climbed inside as Mike started the car and put it in gear. 

“So how’s army life been?” Mike asked. 

Jack shrugged. “Eh, hot and bloody. But that’s the desert for you.”

“I, uh, couldn’t help but notice the scar on your face. What happened?”

“A surprise attack. The humvee I was in exploded. I managed to make it out but a piece of shrapnel hit me.” Jack explained, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Oh. That must’ve been really bad. So are you home for good or are you just visiting?”

“I’m back for good now. I got discharged.”

“Why?”

“They said trauma reasons. I had a weird episode while I was over there. I think I could’ve made it a little longer but I guess they didn’t want to chance me having something like that while we were out on a mission. It could cause problems. I didn’t complain. I wanted to go home anyway and this was an opportunity to leave.” 

“Oh okay. Wow. Are you okay now?” 

“I don’t really know to be honest. I haven’t had anything happen lately but it could always come back. That kind of stuff is unpredictable.”

Mike grunted in agreement and focused on the road. Jack gazed out the window as they entered town and memories came flooding back to him. He was home alright. The jitteriness increased by the second as they got closer and closer to his house.

“How is my Mom?” Jack asked.

Mike slowed down drastically and nearly stopped in the middle of the road. He looked at him with a confused expression and seemed to be contemplating what he was going to say next. Now Jack was confused. Did he miss something?

“Don’t you know what happened?” Mike gasped.

Jack’s heart sank. “What? Is something wrong? Is she okay?” 

Mike sighed. “I think it’s best if you go home and find out. It’s not my place to tell you.”

“Um, okay… Is it bad?” 

“You’ll find out soon enough. I’m…I’m sorry, Jack. I thought you knew.”

Jack’s head was spinning. Oh God. No…

His main worry while he was away had come true. Something happened to his mother and he wasn’t there to help her. He sincerely hoped she was okay.

Mike turned down Jack’s street and pulled up to the curb in front of his childhood home. Jack grabbed his bag and turned to Mike.

“Um, thanks for the ride. I should go.”

Mike nodded grimly. Jack opened the car door and stepped out on wobbly legs. He felt sick to his stomach as he approached the house. 

He reached the top of the steps and took a deep breath. There was no telling what he’d find inside. He turned to Mike and nodded. Mike gave a thumbs up and drove away.

Jack set the duffel bag down on the porch and knocked on the front door, steeling himself.

“What? Who’s showing up here at this time of the morning? Better not be a fuckin’ cop!” A familiar drunken voice slurred.

Jack inwardly groaned. Here we go…

His father opened the door and started to throw something but hesitated when he saw his son.

“Jack? That you?”

“Yes.” Jack said calmly.

Scott tilted his head and stared at Jack, particularly his injured cheek.

“What the hell happened to your face?”

Jack looked down. “Shrapnel.”

Scott chuckled darkly. “At least you didn’t die. I was expecting as much.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. Forcing himself to keep it together, he ignored the comment and changed the subject. 

“Where’s Mom?” 

“Oh that bitch? Didn’t ya hear? She’s dead.”

Jack stood there a moment, staring back at the drunk in shock. He was unsure if he heard him correctly. 

“What?” He demanded.

“One night several months back we got into a fight. Then she hopped in the car and sped off from here. I had no idea where she was goin’. It was raining and she must’ve been too upset to drive because she crashed into an embankment and it killed her.” 

Jack felt tears form in his eyes but he quickly blinked them away. He would not let his father see him cry.

“You sick fuck! You’re lying!” 

“I’m not lying, Jackie. That’s what happened. Go look at the cemetery. She’s there.”

Jack wanted to hit him so bad. Why was he being so casual about this? He shoved Scott out of the way and stepped inside. The house was a wreck and smelled strongly of booze and weed. Dishes were piled in the sink and trash littered the counter and the floor. Maybe his mother really was gone. He refused to believe it.

“That’s not what happened! Where is she?” 

“What part of ‘she’s dead’ don’t you understand? Did you hit your head too hard out there or something?” 

Jack grabbed Scott up by his shirt collar, slamming him against the wall.

“You did this to her! Don’t tell me it was just a fight. You probably beat her until she bled. She wouldn’t’ve had to drive off like that if you’d just left her alone. You fucking piece of shit!” Jack screamed.

“Oh, look atcha all riled up. You think you’re some tough soldier guy now? You’re still the same weak little boy you were when you left.” Scott taunted.

Jack lost control and punched him in the face. Scott staggered backwards and tried to counter but lost his balance and fell over. Jack shook his head. This was pathetic. He could’ve really hurt him if he wanted to but he decided against it. This asshole wasn’t worth it.

“You…get out of my goddamn house. Go! Pack the shit in your room and leave. Take that black pick-up with you. I’m getting tired of looking at it.” Scott shouted from the floor.

“Fine. I wasn’t planning on staying anyway.” Jack muttered as he walked towards his old bedroom. 

He slammed the door shut as he entered and sighed. The tears came back again and this time they were harder to keep down. The realization hit him like a brick wall. His mother was dead. He didn’t even get a proper goodbye.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He needed to pack his things and get out. Quickly. If he stayed longer than necessary Scott might go off again. He did not have the energy to deal with that a second time.

His room was the same way it was when he left, except the dust and the cobwebs on the ceiling. The posters of his favorite bands were still on the walls. His drawings and sketchbooks were still there. His pocket knife was still on his nightstand. His bed was still made up and his clothes were still in his dresser and hanging up in the closet.

Before he got to work, Jack looked for more comfortable clothes to change into. He settled on a dark brown t-shirt and jeans. He gained a lot of muscle mass and grew a few inches taller while he was gone so it was hard to find clothes that fit well. 

After he got dressed, he went through his closet and his dresser and put his clothes in some cardboard boxes he found. He left the clothes he didn’t want or knew for sure he couldn’t wear. He also packed his music, his sketchbooks, his journals, his pocket knife, his skateboard, a few photos he had, and other useful things like a flashlight. He had no clue where he would go from here and what he might need.

He moved the boxes of stuff out into the hall. Double checking himself, he went through everything again to make sure he didn’t leave anything behind. Seeing that he was good, he stacked the boxes and carried them out to the truck, putting them in the passenger seat.

After a few trips, Jack hauled the last of his stuff towards the door. As he started to leave, he glanced over at Scott one last time. He was downing a beer and eating potato chips like an absolute slob. He didn't even look up. He couldn’t be bothered to at least say goodbye to his son. 

So why should I? Fuck him. Jack thought angrily.

He scooped up his things and flung the door open. A rage that Jack didn’t fully know the reason behind swept over him. He darted out to the carport where his truck was, not even bothering to close the door. He tossed the box inside as he climbed in the driver’s seat and sped out of the driveway. 

He was getting the hell out of here but first he actually listened to his father for a change and went to the cemetery to find his mama. 

…

The cemetery was less than 10 minutes away from the house and near a small church, which Jacqueline attended often. Jack used to go with her a lot, especially when he was little. He never fully agreed with or understood the Christian faith. He guessed there was some kind of higher power out there but he wasn’t really sure what. He only went with his mom when he was a teenager because it made her happy. 

Jack parked at the church and walked to the graveyard. The rusty gate made a screeching noise as he opened it. He trekked solemnly through the grass and scanned the rows of headstones for his mother’s name. 

Eventually he found her by a willow tree in the back corner. Wildflowers grew in abundance at the base of the tree and along the fenceline that surrounded the cemetery. Jack picked a handful of the blue and purple ones, knelt down by Jacqueline’s grave, and laid them in front of the headstone. He read the engraving and sighed as his suspicion was confirmed. 

Jacqueline died a few months into his third deployment. He understood why he didn’t find out at first because he was away from any US bases in Afghanistan where communications were. But when he came back to base after they were attacked, why didn’t he find out then? Maybe things were so hectic it was the last thing on people’s mind but still. He should’ve found out a long time ago.

Tears welled up in his eyes again and finally he let them fall. His poor mama didn’t deserve to suffer like she did and die so horrifically. He could only hope she went quickly and painlessly but he would never know for sure.

“I’m so sorry, Mama. I should’ve been here.” Jack sobbed.

He rested his head against the gravestone and just let himself openly weep for a bit. It had been a while since he had a good cry. He was already dealing with a lot. Trauma from the war, the hideous scar on his face, and now this. It was starting to feel like his life was slowly falling apart. 

Jack kissed his hand and then touched the gravestone. “Bye Mama. I love you. Always.”

Composing himself, he wiped his eyes before he stood up and walked back to the truck. He pulled out of the parking lot and started back down the road with no absolutely no idea where he was going or what the plan was. 

One thing was clear. He had to get out of here. This town held too many bad memories. If he was going to move on and get better, he needed to start over completely. The highway seemed like the best option right now. He’d take it until he figured out what to do. It wasn’t a very strong plan but it worked for now.

Jack finally hit the main road, leaving the small town in the dust. He was going 10 miles over the speed limit but he could care less. He was mad. This was not fair.

“Stupid bastard! Can’t even spare the decency to take her death seriously. I mean, what did I expect, but still! And I didn’t find out until now?! Almost three months later? No one stopped to think hey maybe we should tell her son! Oh no, he’s overseas, we shouldn’t bother him with that. That’s kinda something I need to fucking know!” Jack vented to the air. 

He reached down and grabbed his CDs from the floor, picked one, and inserted it into the truck’s CD player. While in the army he couldn’t enjoy music as much as he used to. The opening guitar riff on his favorite album as loud as he could stand it was so refreshing. It helped him to calm down a bit. He’d crash if he kept raging like this. 

Jack was furious at Scott for treating him and his mother like shit for so many years and being indirectly responsible for her death. And then to top it off, being completely careless and unapologetic about the whole situation. 

He was also angry with himself for not checking up enough back home. But what could he do thousands of miles away? He just had to accept that there was nothing he could have done about it. That devastated him.

Jack rolled down the window slightly to let some fresh air in, the wind blowing in his face. He belted out the lyrics of the next track as it came on and got lost in the music to let out his rage. 

He didn’t understand why all of this was happening to him. He was only 24 and he already had more problems than most people twice his age. Maybe this fresh start would be good for him. Being away from everything that caused him so much pain would be the best way to heal.

A few miles down the road, a gas station popped up out of the monotony of fields and trees in the middle of nowhere. Jack glanced at his fuel gauge. It was halfway to empty. He decided it would be a good idea to stop. There probably wouldn’t be another place to fill up for miles. So he parked beside a pump and went inside the store. 

“I need 10 gallons on pump 2 and a pack of Marlboro reds.” He told the woman at the counter.

The cashier grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the shelf and handed it to him. She rang up the total and told him the amount. As he dug some money out of his pocket and paid the cashier, Jack saw a flyer on the wall promoting Gotham City. It sparked a flicker of interest.

“Pfft. Nothing there but city scum and rich assholes.” He mumbled to himself as he left the store, dismissing the idea. 

After he filled up his gas tank, he lit a cigarette and started the truck, continuing down the road. At this point he was about an hour away from home. Aside from the military, he had only traveled outside his hometown a few times and not very far. From here on he didn’t know what was ahead. He could only read the road signs and glance at his watch to see how much time had passed.

Jack groaned as he passed yet another billboard advertising Gotham. This had to be the fourth one since he left the gas station. It was like it was trying to tell him something. But he did not want Gotham to be his only option just because he didn’t know what else to do at the moment. 

He’d heard many things about the city growing up. Some (usually people trying to get students to apply for Gotham University) said it was full of exciting opportunities and new experiences. Jack knew that was probably only true if you were wealthy or smart. 

On the other hand he mainly heard it was crime ridden and dismal, full of corrupt cops and politicians, and just simply trashy. Jack didn’t know if he could handle city life, especially since he was still adjusting to being a civilian again.

He passed another sign and threw his hands up in frustration. He couldn’t give up this easily but he needed to figure this out pretty soon. Currently he had no place to go and he didn’t like the idea of being homeless for too long. 

He had to look at the pros here. Renting a small apartment would be much easier than paying for a whole house in an obscure town and then there was the question of finding a house to begin with. If he went to Gotham, he could have a quiet life in an apartment all to himself. To him that seemed to be the best atmosphere for him to deal with all the trauma and grief. 

“Where else am I gonna go? I’m not staying back home in that God forsaken place and I can’t just live in the middle of nowhere. Homeless… Ugh. Fine. If there’s nothing vacant and if it’s too expensive, then I’ll find somewhere else. This will give me a chance to start over.” Jack told himself as if to solidify his decision.

So after much debate with himself, Jack began the three hour drive to Gotham City with nothing to go by but signs and an old map he found in his glove compartment. It was getting late in the afternoon and with everything going on he was feeling exhausted and super drained. He had to smoke another cigarette and keep some music on just to stay awake and alert.

He also hadn’t eaten anything all day so hungry was an understatement. He stopped at another gas station along the way and bought a deli sandwich and some Goldfish to snack on. 

Finally after a long, tiring journey up the interstate, Jack saw Gotham City’s skyline poke out over the horizon. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was still incredibly nervous about this but at least the driving part was over. 

As he crossed the bridge into the city, he marveled at how big everything was. The largest city he’d ever been in was Atlanta when he was stationed at Fort Benning and that was just passing through. 

Despite his anxiety, he was really looking forward to this new chapter. He was ready to move on with his life. He left his abusive homelife and got out of the military. Now it was time to focus on actual adult life. Becoming an adult while in the army did him no favors. It actually detached him further from everyone else.

This was going to be a major adjustment. That was for sure.

[theshynerdsworld]

THE MUSE part 6

Benedict Bridgerton x female oc

——-

Mary stood looking in the mirror at her dress, it was light blue with little embroidered flowers “I don��t know…” she whispered “Mary, we’ve tried nearly everything,.” Greta told her “hand me to grey lavender, again.” Mary took it off and took the dress, putting it on and put her head to the side “ok. This one.” Greta buttoned it up and helped Mary down from the little stage, Mary grabbed her shoes and bag. Then sat at her makeup table, putting on some light make up “do you think, he will propose?” Greta asked, sitting down and Mary looked her “I’m not sure..” she whispered “I plan to ask him to sleep with me, if I’m married off to another man.” Mary said as a matter of fact “I don’t care, if I sound like a whore, Greta. I deserve to have some pleasure in life..”

Greta sighed and said “Miss, that’s not right..”, “why can’t I have a little pleasure before I’m sold away..” she whispered, Greta gave her a disappointing look “knowing him, probably would.” Mary put her earrings in then nodded standing up The two got up and made their way downstairs when she stopped, seeing Benedict and his brothers, Anthony, Colin and Gregory “Benedict, I thought we were meeting there.” She said after coming down the stairs “well.. we passing by.” She looked at Greta and then Benedict “of course. We should go.”, “shouldn’t we tell your aunt and grandparents.” Colin said, concerned “Johnathon, can tell them.” Mary was out the door “thanks John!”, “I’m gonna make you pay me back, I swear.”

Benedict helped her in and Greta aswell, then the men got in “I like your dress”, “oh thank you, Gregory.” The ride was quiet, the boys mainly spoke. Gregory asked “how do you feel about ducks?”, “ducks?” She asked confused “it’s just I’m going to be feeding them with my sister, hyacinth and well, maybe if you and Benedict are nearby, I was just wondering what you thought”, “um.. well, their ok.. I like animals.” Gregory nodded and looked out the window, making Anthony do a tiny laugh “so where did you go to school?” Colin asked, making Mary look at him “well, I went to sister Margaret’s grammar for girls. It was ok..”, “do well?” Colin started to quiz her, Benedict and Anthony gave him a warning look “well enough…”, “hmm.. so..” Gregory interrupted and said “oh, look we are here.” The men got out and Benedict helped out Mary and Greta “it’s warm today.” Mary stated, as they linked arms and Greta pulled out her fan “you left it.”

Mary thanked her and fanned herself as they walked with Colin and Greta behind them “is it weird?”, “what?” Benedict asked, as they walked “this.. you are known as the Bridgerton, who does not date.” Benedict thought and said “your an expectation.” He paused then said “I asked my brother.. Anthony to be the second for the painting.”, “your brother.. I could not find anyone on such sort notice.” He whispered, as they greeted someone walking past “not Colin?” He shook his head “ok.. sure.”, “you will need a light purple dress, like the one you wore to our second session, I’ll provide the masks.” She nodded “ok..”, “do you want lemonade?” He asked, as they sat. Colin huffed alittle as he sat near Greta. Mary nodded “please.” Benedict stood up and said “Greta, lemonade?”, “thank you sir, of course.” He nodded “come on col.”

The two walked off as Greta sat down, next to Mary to keep her company “so col, why the questions?” Colin scoffed alittle “to know, her. We don’t know anything about her, Ben.” He said all hush hush “I know her.”, “yes because you fucking her.” As they stood in line, he shushed Colin “we are not. So don’t, even.. four lemonades please.” The man nodded and got to work, as the brothers discussed “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Colin said grabbing two cup and so did Benedict “im just saying, the family can’t afford a scandal.” Colin snapped silently “at least I know her, unlike your engagement.”, “that’s not fair.” Col glared “neither is attacking Mary.” The two got closer “here we go ladies. Refreshing lemonade.” They thanked the men and sipped, as Mary fanned herself “are you ok?”, “I don’t well in heat…” just then hyacinth came running “mama said food is ready, if you want to join.”, “actually Col will be joining you. I have a surprise set up for me and miss frantic, obviously greta will be joining.” Colin went to protest but Benedict stopped him, as he helped up Mary and greta followed “so what is this surprise?” She wondered outloud. Colin shook his head and walked to the family “mother, you cannot allow this.”, “I helped him set it up. Anthony! Stop annoying your sister.” Violet snapped and sat down “now eat.” She snapped.

As the trio ate, Benedict looked at her and cleared his throat “I have a question.” She raised her eyebrow “so ominous.” She giggled then drank her lemonade, greta listened as she ate “tomorrow, is the races and I was wondered if you wanted to attend in our box.” Mary nodded and thought, then replied “I am going with my family but maybe I could persuade them, I will try.” He smiled as got closer, Mary looked at him “I have an invitation for you, your brothers, aunt and grandparents.” He pulled out an envelope and she raised her eyebrow, as she took it, looking around and opened it “money?” She whispered, as he sipped his drink “yes, I owe you for a session.” She placed it in her bag and whispered “you paid me.”, “did I?” He said innocently and she glared at him playfully, and took the last strawberry “huh. The last strawberrry? How dare you.” Greta watched the two, playfully argue and she shook her head ‘young love’ she thought and sighed softly, taking in the sun.

(Sorry it’s late, I haven’t been feeling it and tbh I’m making this up as I go along, I’m also trying to figure out how to make a master list for the series. Any suggestions for the story? Enjoy!)

[doeeyeslost]

She gets the girl

Chapter 1: Detention

Warning: swearing, lots of it, alcohol and drug abuse, verbal abuse, mention of smoking, implied sui*cide

Natalie

8am and Natalie was walking to school, hoping to get in earlier than everyone else, wearing the same clothes from yesterday, makeup smeared on her face and smelling like alcohol. As soon as she got to school, walked over to the looker room to take a shower and get some new clothes, hopefully no one will notice that she wasn’t home yesterday… or the day before… or the whole week.

After classes and skipping math class, she went to the back of the school just to smoke and drink a bit with the ones she called friends, they weren’t actually her friends, they were some guys that hanged out with her just because they were there, plus, she gave them free cigarettes and alcohol, yet it’s was the closest feeling to having a friend that she ever got.

“Now, look at this” said Kev “They say it’s the best in town” he pulled out a bag of weed out of his pocket

Natalie laughed.

“You always say that.” talked Nat

“But this time is the truth”

Before they could try it, a car full of jocks parked right next to them, ‘not again’ thought Natalie.

“Hey losers” one of the guys said. “They say if you take enough of it” he pointed at Nats alcohol “you could die, but you already know that, don’t you Natalie?” he said while laughing.

“It wasn’t enough for you to get your girlfriend to leave you for her best friend?” said Nat, everyone laugh, except for Jeff

“You will pay for this, Scatorccio” answer Jeff, driving away

The only thing Natalie could think of at that moment was throwing the bottle of Vodka that she had in hand, and it hit the car, she couldn’t even run, when she got caught by the teacher.

Lottie

“Cut” said Misty. “You did it perfect, I think you’re good to go” Misty turned off the camera.

They were filming for the school yearbook, to remember great times, Lottie was class president, so she had to say a few words, Jackie and Shauna walked to her.

“Hey, are we still up for today?” asked Jackie while holding her girlfriend’s hand.

“Yes” said Lottie. “You got the stuff?”

Shauna pulled out some dye and a cutter that she stole from Van, Lottie smiled.

“What’s happening today?” asked Misty, Shauna hid the stuff.

“Oh, nothing Misty.” lied Shauna. “Just football things.”

“Oh.”

The trio walked over to the locker room where the other team will be staying, looked for the uniforms and threw dye on them, found the balls and cut holes onto them, before they were done, coach Ben entered the room with the other team.

“What the hell are you doing?” shouted coach.

“Fun bonding activities?” asked Shauna.

Lottie and Nat: Detention

“You all know why you are here, right?” asked coach Ben, they all nodded “well, do your homework or think about your life until the clock hits 5pm, I’ll be next door.”

Coach left the room and the teens never said a word until Jackie talked.

“So, why are you here?” she asked Nat

“Why do you care?” answered madly.

“Geez, I’m just trying to make some chitchat.” said while turning to face Jeff, but then to face Shauna, she smiled.

“Why are you here, Jeff?” asked Natalie in a mocking tone.

“Shut the fuck up, you dick” answered.

“Hey” said Lottie “Don’t talk to her like that, maybe if you weren’t such an asshole, you wouldn’t be here.”

“And if she didn’t steal my girlfriend, I wouldn’t be here either.” said Jeff while pointing at Shauna.

“Don’t be such a pussy.” the big brown eyed answered.

Jeff rolled his eyes while Nat smiled at Lottie.

Maybe Lottie wasn’t such a prick as she thought she was, only because she was popular didn’t mean she was like the rest of the popular kids, maybe they could get along. Coach Ben entered the room.

“They told me you guys have to do some work for the school, due to the damage you caused in the locker room” he said while looking at Lottie, Jackie and Shauna.” And we can’t leave you guys without doing anything.” now he was looking at Nat, Jeff and Kev. “so, pair up or not, and do your work.”

Lottie walked over to Nat.

“Do you want to be my partner?” she asked as Nat nodded her head yes.

“Sure, I don’t want to look at Jeff and I think Kevs got it all right.”

Lottie extended her hand to Natalie, and she took it, it felt so right, like a puzzle pice put together, and in that moment, Natalie knew she had a new crush, so did Lottie.

[e-nonsense]

𝐭𝐰𝐨 | 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐧

ꜰᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ || ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

⇢ ꜰɪᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⇢ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ » ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ɴᴏɴ-ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

You were waiting behind the police tape for Diego who went in to “investigate” the people who were murdered in the doughnut shop. You sighed watching Detective Patch use her tazer on him and he dropped to the floor, that was slightly personal.

Walking him toward the cop car, she noticed you, motioning her head to the car you groaned. You knew the drill whenever Diego got caught at crime scenes, she would give you a ride to the station, most of the time so you could bail him out, thanks to your parents enormous fortune you were rich and could afford to get him out, sometimes though you’d leave him in for a day just to piss him off.

“You’re not police Diego remember”

“Yeah, I know”

“Do you?” the sarcasm was evident in her tone, “because you show up and act like you can be apart of this, and you can’t not anymore”

“I’m good at this, you know I can help you”

“I know you give me agita, and I do not want your help”

You weren’t sure why you came back to the academy but it was better than sitting alone in a boiler room, there wasn’t much to do other than stare at walls or throw knives, a skill the Diego taught you to kill time. You knew that you could pay for a better place to stay the night and most of the time when Diego was out kicking ass you would, but he’d never let you have to pay for him to live some where nice, and he you couldn’t go around looking like a kid and be alone.

So here you were talking to Ben, to you he was pretty good company for a dead guy. He was looking at a book you weren’t sure how but every once in a while he would give a comment on whatever you were saying. Conversation was going real well when Klaus woke with up gasping, you and Ben were in sync with your next words

“You okay Klaus?”

“You know you talk in your sleep?”

both of you looking up slightly slightly at the now sober man on the floor scrambling through his pockets

Your voice soft yet stern “you don’t have anymore drugs Klaus”

unlike Ben’s snarky comment about it, to which Klaus told him to shut up. After a couple of seconds of searching through his clothes Klaus found something he could smoke, dismissing Ben who told him he should start his day of with orange juice or something.

“like I told your son earlier, any information about the prosthetics build are strictly confidential. without the clients consent, I simply can’t help you” the guy in front of you was already pissing you off.

thanks to Five’s voice you could tell that he was getting annoyed too, “Well we can’t get consent if you don’t give a name”

“Well that’s not my problem” he said, unbothered “sorry now , there’s nothing more I can do, so–”

“And what about my consent?” Klaus cut the man off

“Excuse me” now this guy was extremely confused

“who gave you permission, to lay your hands on my son?” the crocodile tears would be amusing to you, if you weren’t confused.

“what?” both of them were confused as well

“You heard me”

“I didn’t touch your son”

“oh, really?” now you understood what he was going at, snickering you got Five’s attention, his eyes asking you what the hell is going on “well, then how did he get that swollen lip?” slowly getting up

“He doesn’t have a swollen–” and Klaus swung his fist into his younger, well older brothers face.

Inhaling sharply Klaus looked like a maniac but you were amused standing up from you seat by the window, you laughed quietly at Five’s now swollen lip, all while he glared at you.

“I want it. Name. Please, now” Klaus’ melodic voice back once again

pointing a finger at the man who just punched his son “You are crazy”

to which Klaus chuckled and you grinned at, “you got no idea”

looking at you then the snow globe you groaned and nodded, “Peace on earth” that’s so sweet" and he then swung the globe into your face and you punched him in return,

leaving the to other males in the room stunned, well for about a second until whoever the hell this guy was went to call security, until Klaus grabbed it off him

“there’s been an assault in Mr Biggs office, and we need security, now, shenell!” hanging up, Klaus glanced up at “Mr Biggs” so you took this as your chance to speak.

“Now this is how it’s gonna happen Grant”

“It’s… Lance”

“In about 60 seconds two security guards are gonna burst through that door and they’re gonna see a whole lot of blood” you spoke, motioning to the blood dripping from the top corner of your head and your hair soaking

Klaus went on with whatever you were going to say “and they’re gonna wonder, "what the hell happened?”

you caught onto Five’s small smirk, you could tell he was happy with what Klaus had achieved so far “and we’re gonna tell them that you, beat the shit out of us” Klaus sobbed dramatically

“You’re going to do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I’ve been there. We’ve been there” he spoke waving his hand at you for the last part, to indicate that you too had served jail time.

“Your twenty bucks?” you had realised that Five never spoke nicely or softly

“Yeah my twenty bucks”

“The apocalypse, is coming and all you can think about is getting high?”

“Well I’m also quite hungry” you laughed, lighting

a cigarette and sitting down on the steps next to Five. “You know I realised why you’re so uptight, you must be horny as hell!” you choked on your cigarette because you were trying not to laugh.

“I mean Y/n isn’t horny, but that cause they’re cool as hell, and some other gross reason” You were going die of laughter, if Klaus didn’t shut up “but all those years by yourself. It’s gotta screw with your head, being alone”

“Well…” the man now child spoke “I wasn’t alone”

You whistled “Oooo, who’s the unfortunate lady… or man y'know I don’t judge”

You could tell Five didn’t like your whistling or the snarky comment but he chose to ignore it and answer you question “Her name was Delores, we were together for over thirty years”

“Thirty years? oh wow” Klaus chuckled, you whistled again breathing out the smoke into air.

“The longest I’ve ever been with someone was…” he looked like he was actually thinking “three weeks?”

and Five was gone spatial jumping away, while Klaus talked. He realised Five was in the taxi “hey! what about my money?”

ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ: @smol-book-nerd

© ᴜɴᴏꜰꜰɪᴄɪᴀʟ-ᴊᴀʏᴛᴏᴅᴅ-ᴡɪꜰᴇ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ/ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ/ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ

[schillersrealm]

Chapter 3: Against All Odds

She couldn’t count cards, it was a big mistake and Frankie knew it. She had tried once in Las Vegas and she almost got caught. She was far from being Ben from the movie “21” of Hoffman’s character from “Rain Man” all of this idea was only proved to be a major failure and she knew it. She couldn’t spend the last 10 000$ she had hidden from Schiller, she needed to keep this money in case something was going wrong and that she’d need to run away, or whatever would have to be done to save her sorry ass.

She was standing still in front of her kitchen’s widow when she heard a knock at her door. It was 8 am in the morning… She sighed and walked to the entrance of her small house and opened the door. Ethan, her brother, was standing still on the porch with his hands placed on his hips.

“Where the hell did you go last night, you didn’t go to the gym!!” Frankie passed a hand in her short messy blonde hair when her brother pointed out the obvious.

“You followed me Ethan? Don’t you have a lil baby to take care of?” Frankie pointed out to her brother that he should aim his focus on much more important priorities, like his son.

“I did follow you, and you went right downtown! Talk about a place for working out! I know you’re lying to me!” Frankie snorted at Ethan, shaking her head in despair at him.

“I’m old enough to take care of myself as far as I’m concerned! I told you once and will tell you again, you’re my brother, not my father!!!!” She was about to slam the door right in Ethan’s face, but this last one stopped the door and forced himself inside Frankie’s place. The young woman gave up and walked back to her kitchen.

“What’s going on Frankie? I just wanna know! Are you ok??? You know that you can tell me everything!!” The blonde haired woman turned to her brother and crossed her arms, pushing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. She was indeed irritated and knew Ethan wouldn’t give up until she would tell him the truth. Of course, she wasn’t going to reveal to him the intensity of that truth, she was good at tweaking things, making them less horrible than they sounded.

“Uncle owed money to a man named Schiller, and I just went to his place last night to pay him back…. It’s over now…”  Of course it wasn’t over, it was just the beginning, but Frankie really didn’t think her brother needed to know this.

“I Knew it! Damn bastard!!! You should’ve never accepted all of this!!!”  Frankie rolled her eyes when her brother became infuriated with their dead uncle.

“It’s ok, like I said, it’s over!! I’m going out today, I’m going to look for a new job. I can’t stand working at the restaurant anymore…”  Frankie had no other choice to lie to her brother, because if she was ending up working for Schiller, it was obvious that she wouldn’t be working at the restaurant and once again her brother would be on her back.

“A friend of mine could get you something interesting…” There again, her brother tried to help her. 

“It’s ok, Ethan.. I don’t need your help!” She just couldn’t wait for her brother to leave. She wanted to workout and call Schiller to tell him that she had changed her mind about counting cards.

“You know I’m there for you if you need help Frankie..” Ethan put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. Frankie tilted her head to the side and nodded at her brother.

“I know Ethan, but I’m ok! I’m just going through a lot lately and I would really appreciate it if I was getting some of that space, ok? I got stuff to do…” She declared before kneeling down and opening the kitchen cabinet where all the cleaning products were stored under the sink.

“Fine, but call me if you need help or anything…” She nodded her head, only wishing for him to leave. She just couldn’t wait to call Schiller as she had barely slept last night with that counting cards idea.

10 minutes later, Ethan had left her house and Frankie ran to her smartphone and searched for Schiller’s phone number in her contacts. He had put it there last night for her.

She almost held her breath when she pressed on Nicholae’s name from her contacts list, waiting for him to answer. She swallowed nervously as the ringtone echoed in her ear, but Schiller didn’t answer.

“Dammit!!” She hung up and returned to her kitchen to start cleaning it. Nicholae hadn’t answered the call because he was busy kickboxing. He only took knowledge of the missed call once he sat down on his pressing bench and checked his smartphone,while he was pouring sweat. He licked his upper lip when he saw Frankie’s phone number. That wasn’t good at all, he thought.

He decided to return the call while catching back his breath.

“Did you try to call me?” As Frankie answered, she was welcomed by Nicholae’s stern tone of voice, as if she had disturbed him. She froze on her feet in her kitchen and almost stuttered.

“Eh… Yea, I called you…I don’t think the idea of counting cards is a good one. I mean, I did that once in Las Vegas and that was years ago!” Schiller rolled his eyes when the young woman finally revealed  the truth.

“Oh I see, I’m a bit disappointed, you shouldn’t be lying to me like this Miss Anderson!” He didn’t seem to be angry, or happy. She actually couldn’t tell how he felt about all of this.

“What’s that job you had in mind for me?” She knew she was at the mercy of Schiller and she didn't see the point of waiting one more week until the deadline.

“Well, how about you join me for lunch? We could discuss it. I could come pick you up…” She remained silent over the phone, not, that she had planned to do something else in the afternoon, aside from cleaning her place and doing the laundry.

“Ok, at what time?” She asked him while glancing at the clock in her kitchen.

“How about 11: 45 AM?”  It sounded right, what else could she say? It’s not as if she could tell Schiller no.

“Ok, sounds right! Do you need my address?” She demanded and Schiller quickly informed her that he already had all the information he needed…

“Nope, just be ready on time. I don’t like waiting, Miss Anderson!” Her blue eyes widened and she knew better than making this man wait!

“No worries, I’ll be ready!!” She then heard a clicking noise as if Schiller had already ended the call. The young woman raised an eyebrow. She put down her iPhone and went ahead with cleaning her home a bit as it was too early to get ready. Schiller would only arrive near 11:45 AM, which would give her plenty of time to take her shower and find something to wear…

For some reason, she just couldn’t stop thinking about Mr. Schiller, curious to see what was the job he had talked about. The young woman glanced at the clock on her kitchen wall and realized it was already 10:26 AM and her shower wasn’t yet even taken, and nor did she know what she was going to wear…

She took her shower as fast as she could, making sure to shave her legs, since she wanted to wear a romper… She almost tripped on her way out of her shower. Today was certainly not a good day to die, thought Frankie. Time was flying by as the time on her iPhone announced Frankie that it was 11:19 am.

“Damn!!!”  She yelled as her hair was still wet and she hadn’t even applied her make up. She ran downstairs to turn on her bluetooth speakers as music helped her with getting things faster and especially focusing on what matters the most. Once she had chosen a playlist, the young woman ran upstairs and tried to accelerate by getting herself ready.

She rummaged through her perfume bottles standing on her chest of drawers, and to be honest, she didn’t know which one to choose! Until she made up her mind and picked Gold Rush by Paris Hilton. It did smell like Vanilla and Frankie thought it was appropriate for lunch time.

She opened her closet door and tried to find that Blue romper she had bought recently. She actually had no idea if it was fitting her as Frankie hadn’t tried it before buying it… She wasn’t going dancing, she was going out for lunch. She rolled her eyes at herself and finally put her hands on the piece of clothes she wanted. She quickly dressed, catching a glimpse of the time displayed on her digital clock in her bedroom. The romper was fitting her good and Frankie liked it more than she had expected.

“Fuck!!!” She exclaimed as it was already 11:32 AM. Schiller would be there in 13 minutes and her short hair was still wet and she hadn’t applied her make up to her eyes.

This is when Frankie realized that she had forgotten her iPhone near her bluetooth speakers in her living room. She wanted to change the song playing from her playlist and couldn’t do it without her smartphone.

Once again, Frankie hurtled down the stairs to reach her living room as fast as she could. It was just a matter of time until she would hurt herself in those stairs... She pressed forward on her playlist and “Against All Odds” By Phil Collins filled her house. The song put a smile on her lips and Frankie was quite aware of what was going through her mind and she didn’t care. She kept thinking about Mr. Schiller while singing the song lyrics.

“A young woman like you should keep her doors locked at all times!” The deep voice belonging to a tall man caught her off guard and Frankie rapidly turned around to see who it was, stopping right away from singing as Frankie believed to be by herself. She knew who it was, she had instantly recognized the distinctive voice belonging to Nicholae Schiller. He scared her so much that the young woman dropped her iPhone on the wooden floor while standing in awe in the middle of the hall leading to the living room.

“Oh my god! You scared me so much Mr. Schiller!!” She revealed how he had frightened her by entering into her house, uninvited. The young woman kneeled down and retrieved her iPhone while keeping her eyes on Nicholae at all times.

Nicholae couldn’t help scrutinizing her from head to toe as Frankie was wearing a blue romper while being barefoot. It was hard not to notice her small feet and her wet blonde hair fitting well with her childish romper.

Frankie stood speechless as Nicholae took off his sunglasses, catching his green eyes looking at her with rapt attention. 

“I’m almost ready!” She added, not really knowing what to tell Mr. Schiller. His lips departed in a smile, enjoying what he was seeing. She looked all fragile and Schiller knew better than yearning for a young lady like her… At least,  he tried to convince himself that it was a bad idea, but how tempting it was.

“You’re looking lovely!” He added, a smirk plastered on his lips. Even though Frankie didn’t want to admit it, getting a compliment from Mr. Schiller sent her heart racing through her chest and the paleness from her cheeks traded place for a pinkish hue.

“Oh, it’s just something I bought…” She almost stuttered when Schiller slowly reached for her. “Against All Odds” kept playing in the background and Frankie leaned her head backwards as Nicholae came closer to her, towering over her with his tallness.

“You better get your hair dry!” He winked at her, and the young woman finally backed off from him, as she became extremely flustered by his presence in her house. He saw how disconcerted she was as Frankie sped off toward the stairs and reached for the second floor as fast as she could.

Schiller returned to her entrance and waited for her to come back downstairs. It didn’t take long for Frankie to dry and fix her hair as she kept her hair short and plus she didn’t want to make Nicholae wait any longer.

Schiller had his eyes locked on his watch when Frankie was seen reappearing downstairs…

“11:44! I can’t say you’re late, I was the one who arrived early.” Once again Frankie caught his lips forming a smirk and the young woman knew how wrong it was. This man was old enough to be her father and he would probably be her boss as working for him to pay back her uncle’s debt only seemed to be the plausible solution at this point.

But for some reason, the fact that he was old enough to be her father allured her and not to forget that he was tall, quite in shape and he oozed so much confidence that Frankie couldn’t help feeling attracted to him…

They both departed her house and as Frankie stepped inside Nicholae’s SUV to take place on the passenger seat, the woman knew she had crossed the point of no return with him. It was too late to change her mind or run away, she belonged to him now…

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Partners

Reagan Gilmore and Ben Murray are desperate to take their music and comedy act—aptly called Gilmore and Murray—to the big leagues. In New York City, the year 1950 to be more specific, when and where you can’t swing a baseball bat without hitting someone demanding a duo act with talent, that doesn’t seem to be too hard. The tricky part, however, is rising to the top of the heap when you’re indebted to a particularly notorious crime syndicate.

Protagonists

Reagan Gilmore • 29 • August 15th, 1921 • Ireland

Reagan moved to a small town in New Jersey with his parents at age 9 and met Ben the same day. Some would say it was love at first sight, as the two have been inseparable ever since. At age 13, Reagan’s parents moved back to Ireland and he stayed behind since he couldn’t bear the thought of being so far away from Ben. He’s got incredibly good looks in spades and the charisma to back it up, which he’s learned to use to his and Ben’s advantage. He can have as big a heart as he wants but he’s deeply flawed and he’s tried to quell it for decades.

Ben Murray • 25 • February 27th, 1925 • New Jersey

A mama’s boy through and through, Ben has abandonment issues and a heavily codependent relationship with Reagan. Until age 5 it was just him and his mom, Shoshana, against the world, and meeting a little Irish boy new to town chucked a very welcome wrench in that cozy dynamic for the rest of their lives. Something dark brews beneath the complex surface of one Benjy Mertz. He fears being alone, even in his own apartment, and going as much as a week without seeing his best friend is practically equivalent to being imprisoned.

• • •

"Well," Ben said suddenly. "...What if we could work and celebrate Charlotte's birthday at the same time?" Reagan paused in the midst of kneeling to hand Carolyn another wooden car. "What?" Ben swiveled to face him, hands on his hips. "What if we didn't have to miss her birthday after all? We could...have a celebration at the Heron." Reagan and Carolyn exchanged a glance, the concern doubling in her face. "Have a child's birthday party at the Heron?" Reagan pushed himself to his feet. "Have you cracked? Geevo wouldn't allow a child to look at the Heron, and you think he's gonna let one waltz into the house just 'cause we work there?" "All we gotta do is ask, Reggie." Reagan lifted his eyebrows. "Be my guest." A quick jab of fear split through Ben's chest. "Wh—why's it gotta be me?!" "It was your idea. You're the one stupid enough to think you can ask something insulting of the man almost certainly involved in the mob that just so happens to hand us our paychecks after every performance of lascivious smiles and flop sweat." "It's a good idea," Carolyn interjected. "If you could pull it off, it would be better than missing out for six years in a row." Without breaking eye contact with Ben, Reagan released a slow breath, the weight of Carolyn's words once again sinking into his shoulders with the strength of a weighted blanket. He eventually lowered his gaze to the toys in her hands.

• • •

"He pays us," Reagan reminded him through gritted teeth once the door clicked closed behind them. "He lets me live in a house with my family, and lets you live, full stop." "With money that he likely inherited when someone went the way of the executed," Ben hissed, shrugging Reagan off of him. They hurried through the hall to get as far away from the office as possible. "We don't owe him shit! If anything, we're the reason that shit-head rakes in as much as he does every goddamn week!" Reagan shoved him into the wall. "If he hears you mouthin' off like that, I will let him wring your pencil neck, do you hear me? He's got all the right ties to all the wrong people." "Or is that the wrong ties to the right people?" Ben said, rubbing his shoulder as they turned a corner. "With Geevo Jones it doesn't matter. You'd be dead either way and I wouldn't know what to do with myself." "It'd tear you up that much, huh?" Reagan came to a stop and turned to him, picking up on the neediness behind the faux-casual question. "You've been my best friend for twenty years. You think I would've stuck with you that long if I didn't care about someone blowing your brains out?" Ben paused, nose scrunching. "...Didja have to get offensive?" "Yeah." Reagan smiled.

[destinyc1020]

It is understandable with Vanessa she supported him when he was no one and probably from the looks of things getting the Elvis role was the break point of their relationship I would be bitter too it feels like she was the starter wife and he moved on to someone younger and she could not enjoy the success they probably dreamt about together. I don’t think it means she is not happy but we are all human and she may feel he used her. Especially from what people say she was the one paying their bills he lived in her house etc.

With Taylor I agree her fame is probably not the only reason for the breakup I don’t see Joe being competitive in that sense if he wanted to be he would not be as low key as he was. Relationships are hard and sometimes people are not compatible. I am also glad TZ have each other because you can have all the awards but if you are lonely they will not keep you warm at night. I can’t help thinking of Z at the Emmys saying I text my boyfriend just the joy she had saying that is so sweet.I feel sorry for Taylor this is such a high point in her career I hope she finds someone to share it with. But then again they are people who are happy alone so there’s that.

RE: Aunessa Idk why people are acting like Austin was some hobo off the street while he and Vanessa were dating lol. 😆

Yea, he wasn't a B-list actor, he wasn't even C-list imo (probably D-list?), but it's not like he was unemployed. He was working throughout their relationship. He even had to go straight to work overseas on Shannara Chronicles literally right after his mom died. Didn't even get time off to grieve really.😔 After his work obligations were over he may have taken some time off for himself since he wasn't even sure he wanted to continue acting after his mom died. Then he started doing Broadway plays, etc.

Vanessa herself isn't even a B-list actress (imo). She's more known due to Disney, HSM, and Hallmark films, and she was definitely more name-worthy famous than him while they were dating, but it's not like she was an A-list actress, and he was like E-list or something lol. 😅🤣 Let's be real lol. They bought a house together, and when they broke up, she sold the house while he was still in Australia filming for Elvis. I still don't get the "he used her" theories... We don't even know if he dumped her... We're just ASSUMING! For all we know, Vanessa could have dumped HIM! 😅 It just seems more likely that he broke things off with her since she seems to be coming off as the more salty one.

Either way, I doubt he just woke up one day and said: "Oh yea...I've been with this woman for 9 years, and now that I have this big role, I'm just gonna LEAVE her!" They were both in a relationship for almost a decade, so obviously they both had strong feelings for each other. I think more than likely what happened is he made a choice to focus on his career and this massive role that he knew would consume his life... I still think that there must have been other issues going on in the rlshp if a breakup occurred after 9 years of being together. There's no way it was just a split-second decision to break up. RE: Taylor & Joe.... Yea I agree. I think sometimes fans are quick to tie things up into a nice little bow in order to "make sense" about a breakup, but a lot of times there are areas that are a shade of gray. In other words, many times breakups (or matters of the heart) aren't just black and white. There's usually a lot of other things going on in the rlshp that we as fans just don't know or see...even if (even if!) a couple seems "perfect" for each other, or has been with each other for decades lol. Relationships don't typically end overnight. It's usually because something has been brewing beneath the surface for a while. Like you said, maybe they were just incompatible in the long run? 🤷🏾‍♀️

Or, who knows?? Maybe like TZ they will get back together one day lol. We literally don't know at this point lol. After Ben and JLo, I say ANYTHING is possible ROTFL! 😅🤣

RE: Tomdaya.... Aww...Yea, that was so sweet to hear her say that Anon! I agree! 🥰 Like you said, you can have all of these awards, accomplishments, and accolades, but if you don't have someone to share it with, you can feel lonely indeed. I'm SO glad Z has someone like Tom in her life. 🥰

[writingonleaves]

I'm very curious as to what "reckless driving" could be about

oh goodness yes. i call "reckless driving" my magnum opus because i don't think any piece of creative writing has ever taken this much planning and meticulous thinking...its probably bc i just really wanna get it right lol ANYWAYS reckless driving is a jack hughes x ofc fic (the ofc has already appeared actually, in my trevor x belle fic). the song this piece is based on is reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine and ben kessler, which tells you enough. excerpt below!

“I can’t imagine you being a bitch to your sisters’ significant others they’ve brought home.”

She shrugs, “I don’t think I am. I’ve been told I can be a bit closed-off when you first meet me though.”

“Hey. Nothing wrong with taking time to feel people out.” 

“Some people don’t have the patience for that, though.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. A lot of people just assume people who aren’t outwardly charismatic aren’t worth their time.”

Jack blinks, thinking about her words over and over again like a broken record. “Well, then those people are stupid.”

She looks at him and he’s momentarily distracted by the way her white headband creates a sort of halo around her. She lets out a small smile. Jack wants to frame it and put it on the wall of his room back in Jersey. She chuckles, and Jack feels defensive all of a sudden.

“What?” He asks, trying not to sound indignant. 

“Nothing, it’s just…I don’t know. That’s such an interesting thing coming from someone who I imagine is exactly just that.”

“Just what?” He’s not doing a great job today at keeping track of where a conversation goes. 

She huffs. “Outwardly charismatic. You’re telling me you’re not?”

Jack’s hands suddenly start to sweat. “I mean, I guess. But that doesn’t come easy to everyone. I still don’t think it comes easy to me. I’ve just been forced to be okay at it because of what I do.”

She starts swatting at bugs so they hop out of the trunk and start driving back. She doesn’t miss a beat in their conversation. “That’s another reason why I love photography. No one expects anything out of me or pays attention to me. I’m just there to capture the moments.”

Jack can’t help but laugh, thinking back to his rookie year and all the damn expectations that were placed on him that he didn’t surpass. It’s water under the bridge now, but he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t think about it once in awhile, especially when the draft bust comments come back after a stretch of bad games. 

“I don’t know what that’s like, having no one expect anything out of me,” he admits, carefully pulling out on the main road. 

“Do you like that? Having a chip on your shoulder?”

“Yeah, in a way. Definitely lights a fire under your ass and motivates you. But, I don’t know, it can get to be a lot, I guess. But I’m used to it. People have been expecting things out of me since I was 16.”

Amelie hums, adjusting her headband. “Must be a lonely place to be at times.”

“Where?”

“The top.” 

WIP Ask Game

[mingi-bubu]

25. Kiss Inspired by a Song

for this one, i just hit shuffle-play on my “Life Influences” playlist which has artists like Catfish and the Bottlemen, COIN, HUNNY, Hippo Campus, All Time Low, etc etc. on it.  The song we’re using today is.... “I Love You So” by The Walters doyoung x reader even though he doesn’t actually show up in this, past taeyong x reader, mark and johnny our fave besties, angst with no happy ending, this really ended up being more a (platonic) mark scenario too which is why i tagged it along w/dy, 2.1k 76 Kisses Masterlist~

Walking back to your apartment after a long shift wasn’t unusual.  He always said he’d pick you up, and about half the time he did.  But more often than not, he was pulled away or distracted by something else.  You let out a sigh, tilting your head up slightly to take in the dark gray clouds above you.  You could feel in your bones that a thunderstorm was about to roll in.  Granted, the meteorologist said as much during the weather segment on your local news channel.  But, you’d prefer to think that your bones hold some ancient, divining power and you aren’t just experiencing the effects of atmospheric pressure changes.  It’s something to keep you somewhat distracted from the hollow disappointment that you were feeling.

You kick a rock, watching as it skitters a few paces ahead of you.  People pass by you, as preoccupied with their own lives as you are with yours, and pay no notice.  You catch up to it, and kick it again, just to have something to do.  You were lucky that it hadn’t started raining yet.  That would definitely put a damper on your already subdued mood.  You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you pull it out to see that your friend was calling you.

“Yo,” Mark says when you pick up, “how was work?”

“Work was fine,” you say, your tone falling flat.  You step off to the side, next to a lamppost, to take your call.  “Pretty much the same as it always is.”

“Ah, dude, that sucks,” Mark says sympathetically.  You like Mark.  He was very good at making you feel less shitty because of his very golden retriever constitution.  “You okay?”

You hesitate, the standard “I’m fine” not being able to pass your lips.  “He didn’t pick me up.  Again.”  Your words come out choppy.

“Do you need me to come get you,” he asks immediately.  You can hear the sound of his old, wood-framed couch creaking as he sits up.

A small smile breaks across your face, touched at how Mark didn’t even have to think about it.  But the smile, as soon as it’s there, it’s gone.  “Nah… I’m walking back.  It’s not raining yet, so it’s fine.”

Mark hums an affirmative.  “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you say.  You take another look at the sky and step into the stream of people.     It’s better to keep moving to be as close to your apartment as you can before the rain starts.  You want to talk to Mark, tell him what’s been bugging you this whole day, but you can’t find the words.  He seems to get it, and stays quiet on the other side of the line, waiting for you to get your thoughts worded out right.

“It’s just,” you start, taking a sharp inhale.  “It’s just that he always does this, you know?  He goes on and on about how he’s sorry for forgetting and that he’ll definitely get me next time, and then I’m left walking back.  Or catching a ride with you, which is unfair to both of us.”  You pause, waiting to see if Mark is going to comment.  When he doesn’t, you continue.

“Like, in everything else about our relationship, he’s perfect!  Or, well, most everything else, I suppose.  Doyoung is good at planning and organizing a calendar.  Which is something I needed after my breakup with Taeyong.  Doyoung’s structured lifestyle gave me an anchor to hold onto when I felt like I was just floating aimlessly through it, you know?”

“I remember,” Mark says.  He sounds sad, and you know he’s thinking about all the times he would crash at your previous apartment just so that he knew you were eating more than Ben and Jerry’s.

You come to a stop with a small group of people at a crosswalk, the light having just turned to a ‘DON’T CROSS’ right as you got there.  You shift your phone to your other ear.  “He was good for me, I think.  At least, he was in the beginning?  You helped me, so much, but he did, too.”  ‘CROSS’ appears, and you hear the steady chirping sound for the visually impaired start up.  “He got me out of that selfish-”

“Not selfish,” Mark interrupts.  You two have had this talk many times.  He maintains that you weren’t being selfish by taking care of yourself after your breakup.  You think that the way you were able to call off work for a week was selfish; in a lot of industries, you wouldn’t be able to.  It helps that your boss was also one of your best friends.  And that the two of you sort of worked for yourselves.  Johnny had come up with the bespoke fashion, but you were in charge of sourcing material.  Luckily, the week that Taeyong broke up with you, you and Johnny were up to your eyeballs in tulle and crinoline for a wedding dress.  The dress had been the only project that you were working on for that month, so a week off wasn’t going to do too much damage to Johnny.  He was probably the better person for the bride to speak to anyway.

“He got me out of that slump I was in,” you correct yourself, leaving the crosswalk behind you.  “And for a while, it was good between us.  Doyoung was what I wanted, what I needed, in a partner at the time.  And I was surprised at how well we clicked!”

“Not as surprised as me and Johnny when you told us you were moving in with him just two months into your relationship,” Mark says.

“That’s fair,” you say, “I did kind of just… spring it on you guys.”  You sidestep a pair of moms with one of those strollers for twins.  “But I’m thinking I’m going to start packing up my shit when I get back to my apartment.”

“Oh?”  Mark sounds shocked.  “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” you say, suddenly tired.  “It’s just that, like, recently he’s never not just present with me?  I guess?  He always seems like he’s on the phone with someone else, and I don’t think a Valerie or Jolene work in his office.  I’m almost ninety percent certain that those are two of his exes.”

“What makes you say that?”

You think about it for a few seconds, recalling the look on his face, in his eyes, when you asked who he was talking to.  You were never accusatory when you asked, but the way he reacted told you everything you needed to know.  “He always looked like a startled rabbit when I asked.”

“Fair play,” Mark agrees.

“But also,” you say, going back to the previous topic, “I know what it feels like when it’s time to go.  Someone always leaves first, you know?  I guess this time it’s me.”

“Do you,” Mark starts, then cuts himself off.  “Are you going to be able to pack your things and leave him behind before he gets back from work tonight?”

You wave away his worried question, forgetting for a minute he can’t actually see you.  “It’s chill.  He’s leaving for the weekend on some business trip.”

“Business trip or business trip?”  You know him well enough to know he was waggling his eyebrows at the question.  It cheered you up slightly, knowing that he could tell you were alright enough for him to make that joke.  As soon as you decided you were going to pack your things up, you were already one foot out of the door in your relationship.

“Honestly?  I’m not totally positive,” you reply.  You let out a small, frustrated groan at being stalled by a crosswalk sign again.  “But like I said, it’s chill.  He’s supposed to be coming back tonight and leave in the morning.  And with the way he is, everything he’s bringing with him except his toothbrush and stuff are already packed.  He’s not going to be looking through the drawers and closet for any clothes.  I’m probably not even going to start with clothes anyways.  Those will be the easiest, so I can leave them to be last.”

“You want help,” Mark offers.  “John and I can swing by tomorrow.  We could probably get you all packed up and out of there before Saturday night even begins if Doyoung’s leaving early.”

“His flight is at seven, I think,” you say.  “Thank you.”  You ignore the lump in your throat forming from the care your friends have for you.  Especially with this being the second most messy breakup you’ve had that they’ve helped you through.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you as you continue your walk home.  It isn’t an incredibly long walk, but twenty minutes is twenty minutes, you know?  It’s nice that it’s rather cool out because of the waiting storm.

You break the silence again.  “Sometimes, you know, I feel so… so dumb for getting into this kind of mess.  Like, it feels like I have a flashing, neon sign pointing at me that says “Hi!  Look at me!  World’s Best 21st Century Fool for Your Entertainment Right Here!”  I shouldn’t be getting into these messes constantly.”

Mark scoffs.  “First of all, you do have that sign pointing at you, but not because of your relationship history.  It’s because you almost twisted your ankle, even though you were literally just standing still.  Secondly, it’s not your fault that Doyoung has been cruel to you.”

You interrupt Mark quickly.  “He hasn’t been cruel!”  You defend Doyoung.

“What do you call blatantly talking with one’s exes in front of their current partner with no remorse, then?”  Mark fires back just as fast.

“… shut up.”

“Listen, YN,” Mark says, tone suddenly serious again.  You break off from the crowd again, leaning up on the brick wall of some hotel or restaurant or office building.  With a measured voice, he says, “You are not beholden to the decisions he makes for himself.  You have so many possibilities ahead of you, with or without him.  And you have friends that care about you and want to help.  What he chooses to do in this relationship, the ways he disrespects you, are not a reflection on who you are as a person.  They’re a reflection of him.  You don’t have to put up with this just because you love him.  If someone truly, actually loves you, they wouldn’t put you through this shit.”

You sniff, holding back the tears that started sometime during his speech.  “Mark Lee, when did you get so worldly,” you joke.  Both of you ignore how watery your voice sounds.

As if sensing you needed one last push for a proper emotional breakthrough, he says haughtily, “I feel like the possibility of all those possibilities of being possible is just another possibility that can possibly happen.”

You snort, and the dam breaks.  “Shut up, oh my god,” you say through the mix of laughter and tears.  “I’m banning you and Johnny from hanging out together.”

“You can’t do that!”  Mark protests, and you can hear the relief and smile in his voice.

“I can and I will!”  You drag the end of your jacket against your jeans to create a little sweater paw, so you can wipe your face.  “You’ve been banned!  No more Johnny for you!”

You and Mark joke around like that for those remaining last minutes of your walk to your apartment.  You step out of the elevator and walk up to your apartment.  The bright lemons on the welcome mat feel like such a juxtaposition to what will come to pass in the morning.  “Hey,” you say, fishing your keys out of your pocket and unlocking the door, “thanks for this.”

Mark’s voice softens.  “You know I always have your back, YN.  Me and Johnny both do.”  There’s the sound of a door opening and plastic bags rustling faintly from the other side of the line.  “I gotta go.  Renjun just got back with today’s dinner.  I gotta get my share before the others swarm like locusts.  John and I will see you in the morning!  Bye, YN, love you!”  Mark says.  He waits just long enough for you to reply, “Love you, too, Markily.  See you soon!” before he hangs up.

You kick off your sneakers, and walk into the kitchen.  You pull out your favorite mug from the cabinet next to the fridge and start making hot chocolate.  After adding cinnamon, marshmallows, and some whipped cream, you go to the living room and affix yourself to the corner of the couch.  As soon as you get comfortable, pillows in the right spots and blanket laying nicely over you, the storm starts.  You watch the rain patter against the window as you sip your drink, feeling more settled than you had that morning.