#this argument is after they got divorced and i was wondering about moving it to earlier | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liveontelevision · 2 months

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Okay, this started as a rant about Lucifer lore and turned into an argumentative essay on why Lucifer is a bottom. My b.

18+ Smut ahead, lots of angst

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Here's the thing about Lucifer. He was an awesome dreamer, fell in love with Lillith, and was banished to Hell. Literally forced to see what the gift of good will can do at its worse. Unless he's made some personal contact with a sinner to get like updates about what the gift of good will did right, he had to be stuck in a depression for centuries, at least until Charlie was born. And while that would've definitely given him a new passion, he'll never feel confident in dreaming again.

With how much he dislikes sinners and what they represent, i wonder if there had to be some strain on their relationship when it came to Lillith taking control? They never really talk about if they had a fallout or if she just disappeared, but i dont think they really got divorced either.

When Lucifer looks at that family picture and winces, does he feel bad about not contacting charlie? About something he did to make lillith leave? Or maybe he feels bad about being upset at lillith for leaving in the first place? There's so much to umpack there i live for the lore.

Love Interests:

But when that comes to potential love interests in the future, Lucifer hasnt had to court anyone before like ever. Not in the circumstances that they live in a big city like Hell. So when he finally ends up catching feelings, he has no idea. People around the hotel literally need to pick up on context clues for him and have an intervention to tell him he's in love again.

Even if he hasnt seen lillith in 7 years, their relationship had to be a drastic change compared to new love. I think that his love interest would also pick it up before he does, and you would let him work at his own pace. Fuck, it is so important that he goes through this process at his own pace.

With so much strain on his past relationships with loved ones, he fully gaslights himself into thinking he doesnt deserves and isnt allowed to feel affection anymore. I hate making characters i love suffer. But i feel like in his state of mind he'd go through depressive episodes and panic attacks, maybe some night terrors. Theyed be about his past and his subconscious would essentially tell him he has feelings again, and he shouldn't act them in case he scares you away and abandons you, like heaven. Or drives you away like lillith. Or purposely blocks you out like charlie. Mans is struggling i swear. He needs some comfort.

After finally coming to terms, hes a nervous wreck about every decision he makes. He'll constantly stare in the mirror in the mornings, making sure he looks his best, would plan mental scripts before even having a conversation with you, and would become a bumbling mess just trying to make jokes out of the situation, some base level actions, like how we saw in the show. He'll manage to finally ask you out, but all he really knows how to do is profess an undying love (i feel like his confession to lillith was hella dramatic) so it was a little awkward, but still cute. And of course you said yes.

So let's say its been 5+ years since he moved into the hotel, met you and finally managed to confess his feelings. When it comes to the actual relationship? You give him reassurance and support him through his mental episodes, and laugh at his jokes and praise him for everything he does. He has such intense imposture syndrome though, that even other demons have to reassure that theres no way you dont love him with all your being. Because it is literally obvious to everyone but him.

He's pretty good at doing the romantic fluff stuff in public, he loves to make a big show out of treating you like royalty and even trying to embarrass you when you become close enough. He's always more charasmatic in public, it seems easier than doing that alone.

Not in a negative way, but Lucifer is so never to be alone with you. You take the lead a bit more in those scenarios, suggesting ideas like movies or just coming up with small talk yourself. He needs someone who'll be patient with him. Being alive for millions of years AND being left or shamed by all your loved ones during that time is literally the definition of Truama.

Of course he's been bottling all that shit up, he has no one to confide with. There's no one who's been alive and witnessed it all the way he has. So bless you for loving and caring for him even without understanding all hes been through.

You'll have some rough patches, where this emotional side locks him away from you and everyone else. It might be a few days before you see him. He'll lock himself in his office, pumping out ducks by the dozen just to keep himself from sleeping, because he's scared he'll have night terrors if he feels asleep. He's in a constant loop;

"what if i fucked up?"

"what if i try to talk about it and then they realize how bad i fucked up?"

"what if that's enough of a reason for them to leave me?"

"what if i scare them away?"

"what if that fucks this up?"

"what if i fucked up.. Again..?"

After he leaves his office, youre excited to see him out and about, but you cant make a big deal out of it. You have to speak to him calmly, make sure he's physically okay before talking to him about his thought process. It might take awhile, but he'll eventually trust you enough to open up. And of course it'll never be bad enough for you to leave him, he's just struggling.

Physical Contact:

It takes him an even longer time to become physical with you. He hasnt been intimate for over a decade at this point, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with little affections like hand holding, cuddling, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissing? Hoo boy, he melts after your first kiss. It couldve been even a small peck and he would still become a nervous wreck just trying to ask for more.

He'll ask for physical touch more than provide it at first. You'll give him a quick kiss and he'll look up at you super eager just like, "another?" He'll grow into tastful pda's, linking arms, quick hugs and smooches, holding hands all that.

He becomes putty in your hand when you're alone though. You'll nudge him to lean against your shoulder or even lay his head in your lap while youre lounging or watching movies. He becomes so relaxed in your presence, that you'll want to suddenly peck him just to see his suddenly flustered reaction.

You'd give him massages that he would always be hesistant over. He was always a little nervous that he wasnt giving enough to you, but you were quick to assure him that wasnt the case. You'd straddle his hips while giving him a slowww massage. It starts with light touches, tracing your fingers over his shoulder blades and spine. You'd trace your fingers over his chest when you would cuddle too, depending on the position. Or stroke his back sweetly. It was enough of a distraction to keep his mind occupied, away from any spiraling thoughts he might be having.

He purrs. Convince me that he doesnt purr. (You cant)

Being secluded for so long probably means that he doesnt fly as much as he used to. It was probably a passion of his, and he was especially delighted to share it with lillith and charlie.

So during those 7 years he barely flew, he also didnt take care of his wings. I feel like theyre something to be summoned, so they arent constantly tucked into his back. You'd basically scold him sometimes to just let you clean his wings.

You'd do it in like a spring-type bathhouse that Lucifer would have in his castle somehow. It was one of the first intimate moments he's experienced in years, so he was generally going insane. Feeling your hands and a little comb rake through the feathers on his giant wings? You'd have to tap his shoulder sometimes to keep him from falling asleep to the relaxation alone. After the first time, the water you used was pretty dirty and he had a lot of loose feathets that were combed out. Damn, he needed this.

Intimacy:

After awhile, you sit down and would have a discussion about being intimate in bed. Lucifer would be absolutely nervous about overstepping by asking this, (even though you've been together for about a year at this point). He would use his mental scripts and basically practice what he wanted to say.

It would mainly be him saying he wants to do this because he loves you and youve done so much for him that he wants to give back to you in this way. It would consist of him saying its okay if you dont want to, or if you ever want to stop to just say so. But of course you want to, how could you not?

It would start slow, he actually tries taking the lead in this specific situation. He would kiss you first, his lips trembling at the thought that this is actually happening. Feeling his nerves, you'd cup his face and stroke his cheeks with your thumbs lightly. That will help him ease up enough to start letting the passion take over more.

He'd become more confident in slipping his tongue into your mouth and placing his hands on your hips to pull you closer to him. Lucifer would get lost in the moment, pulling you to straddle his lap as he kissed and licked and bit his way across both your shoulders and down to the softeness of your breast. After leaning back to look at the damage his eyes would become increasingly wide, looking up at you with a flustered expression. Seeing you losing it as much as he was, gave him enough courage to keep up at it.

He would almost hesistantly take a hold of your breasts and would massage them softly, running his thumbs across your nipples and becoming absolutely delighted at the reaction you gave. The adrenaline from the pleasure would make you start grinding against his lap, which would make lucifer's hands on your hips pull away for a moment and make his breath stutter. Lucifer would look you up and down as if he didnt know what to do next, studying your body with darting eyes. You'd press a small kiss on his forehead before guiding his hands back onto your hips with yours, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.

"Are you okay, Luci?" He would gulp before nodding his head and turning ridiculously red across his face, maybe from the idea of what was to come, maybe just from your voice alone. You'd keep your hands ontop of his at your hips as you'd keep moving, letting out breathy moans. He would be holding his breath without realizing, an absolute nervous wreck just from the view.

He would already be hard just from the previous make out session, so this would cause him to lean his back against the bed, his strength giving out. You'd keep up at it, feeling his hips jolt up to meet yours at times.

He was a sweaty, twitching mess in front of you and you hated to admit how much that excited you.

His scripted plan was immediately forgotten, but he was quick to remember that he wanted to please you.

He'd snap out of his state of intense pleasure, to carefully switch positions, him looking over you with your back against the bed.

You both discuss it, of course, attempting to set boundaries before hand. Even just the tender discussion would get him riled up. So he'd lean foward and kiss you again, showing off his forked tongue before peppering kisses down your entire body, until he was close enough to let his hot breath heat up your folds.

You'd feel his nervous breath on you before delving in. He would be hesistant of course, but would be quick to get used to your entrance after running his tongue across your entirety multiple times. Lucifer loves providing pleasure this way, so his brain immediately knew what to do once the nerves past. He was quick to take a tight hold onto your thighs to keep you in place as he entered you with his demonic lengthy tongue. He would look up at you as he sort of aimlessly dug around at first, waiting for a reaction. Once he'd see you dip your head back with a muffled moan, he would close his eyes to focus all his attention to that one spot. He'd reach his thumb around to circle and massage your clit that he would find far too quickly. You'd arch your back and try to get more friction against his tongue, but it's easy to forget that he is quite literally the strongest being in Hell. You weren't going anywhere.

He'd love feeling your hands in his hair and would absolutely lose it feeling you pull hard when he'd hit just the right spot. As soon as he set a steady thythm and was hearing your voice become more unhinged, he'd speed up to an extent that you didn't realize was possible after going for so long. You discussed cumming before and he made it very clear that he was okay with you finishing on his face. Fuck, he wanted it. You still warned him, moaning out his name to get his attention, "I-I'm almost there- K-Keep doing that.. like that..! Luci-" you'd almost direct him though the whole process, but were quick to become a moaning mess unable to communicate with words. You'd reach your limit and he would let you buck up into his face this time, loosening his grip on your thighs. He'd pull away after licking you clean, sending overstimulated pleasure across your entire body, with a line of your juices following his tongue as he lifted his head. He would pant with his tongue still sticking out of his mouth, and even through hazy eyes you loved seeing his demonic tongue and thinking about how it just drove you to climax.

Things would switch up again, and you'd sit him against the back of the bedframe. you'd have another quick discussion before seating yourself slowly on his length, which had been throbbing for any contact since the night started. The first few times, he'd do his best not to cum immediately. He hadn't been touched like this in a while, after all. You'd only begin to move once you made sure he was okay since his struggle was written all over his face.

The moment you began to keep a steady space, he would jut his hips upwards, becoming needy to feel this sensation he hadn't felt in over a decade. The first time didn't last long. It was sweet, and he would constantly moan out your name and babble on about how much he loves you. The entire time, you'd be praising him through every move until he was going too fast for you to get a sentence out.

He'd cum inside of you, another previously discussed topic. You essentially had to beg to convince him it was okay. You'd collapse onto his chest, a position he didnt see often. While the two of you always cuddled, you were so focused on making sure he was comfortable, Lucifer realized you didnt often get the chance to just relax on top of him. So after realizing that? Aftercare was amazing.

He'd let you sit with him inside you for a while, before pulling you off and immediately cleaning you up. Some nights, when he felt especially dominant, he would lap up his own cum from your incredibly sensitive cunt. He would swallow some of it, but was mainly pushing anything that dripped out back into your entrance.

After cleaning you up, he would wiggle his way back underneath you and pull you onto his chest, enjoying taking care of you the way you took care of him.

After the first night, lucifer would be much more confident. He'd have that healthy glow, but would be more assertive during meetings, more communicative and wouldnt shut others out as often. It really helped him realize how much you gave to him, and he was determined to give all that and more back to you.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

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Hi. Can I request a drabble with Jungkook where they’re in a secret relationship and they think their friends are not aware of it but they’re actually really bad at hiding it. Thank you!

decided to combine these two. thank you both for the requests!

this one ran away from me but was really fun, so we're going to ignore the wordcount. hope you both enjoy! <3

obviously

pairing: jungkook x f. reader genre: secret relationship au, roommate au; crack, fluff warnings: two idiots engaging in idiot behavior, swearing, yoongi is tortured by reader's use of emojis, drinking/alcohol, one reference to jungkook wearing women's underwear but it isn't a thing, unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 3.7k

In retrospect, getting married at nineteen wasn’t your brightest idea.

Not your worst, either, because at least you’d chosen well.

There are undoubtedly far worse men to have as your ex-husband than Kim Namjoon, who had also gotten caught up in all those romantic cliches about young love; had also been inflicted with whatever illness made you believe getting married so young was smart and cool; had also woken up one day and thought what the fuck are we doing and asked if you wanted to call it quits.

You did.

And even though you loved Namjoon, over time it turned into that platonic life partner kind of love and not that all-encompassing, love of your life, eternal kind of love. So, Namjoon offered to pay for the divorce with his grad school stipend and took his name off the lease so you could find a new roommate and insisted on meeting up every other week for takeout and cheap alcohol because he had a whole thing about not wanting it to be weird.

Now, here you sit, years removed from the most affectionate and anticlimactic divorce of all time, and you wonder what could be more weird than your ex-husband making you a Tinder profile.

“I know what you like,” he insists, cheeks ruddy from the wine. Namjoon talks endlessly on a good day, but he’s nearly impenetrable when he’s got some merlot in him. “No one’s more qualified to do this than me.” You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Except you, of course,” he hurriedly adds.

“Have you ever stopped to think—”

Namjoon heaves an exaggerated groan, hand to his forehead as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “You have no idea.”

You roll your eyes. “Have you ever stopped to think,” you repeat, “that there might be a reason I don’t have a Tinder? Or any dating profile, for that matter?”

“Yeah, you’re obviously still in love with me,” he jokes, laughing wildly at the absurdity of it; elbows you in the side as he wiggles his eyebrows. What could be weirder than your ex-husband treating you like one of his bros? “But alas, I’ve moved on, and so the time has come for you to also—”

“Either shut up or drink more,” you interject, filling his glass nearly to the brim. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this.”

Namjoon, seemingly out of arguments, simply hums in acknowledgment. Downs half the wine you’d just poured him, because out of the two options you’d presented him with, it’s the more realistic choice. Asks, “What’s your preferred age range?” before snorting another laugh and setting it from 18 to 50 for his own amusement.

“You know, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Why not?” he retorts, and there’s no judgment there, just genuine curiosity. You know he’s just having a laugh, would delete it and never mention it again if you asked him to, but the thing is—

The front door opens, and there stands your roommate, arms full of bags from Daiso. “Hey, ba—”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks when he sees your ex-husband. Coughs to cover the pet name that nearly tumbled out of his mouth and lifts his hand in a wave. Namjoon watches the way the weight of the bags causes the muscles in Jungkook’s forearm to flex and shoots you a look. Maybe he does know what you like, after all.

“Hi, Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook says, polite but still awkward, even after all these years. Can’t seem to shake it, no matter how hard he tries. “What are you two up to?”

Namjoon is none the wiser, used to the hushed awe Jungkook always adopts when he addresses him. Polite and endlessly kind because his mother raised him to never be anything less, but only ever jittery around Namjoon. Doesn’t act like this around any of your other friends; takes Seokjin’s teasing in stride and dishes it right back, but never Namjoon. Would probably rather die.

So Namjoon just waves back, says, “Hi, Jungkook-ah,” before he returns his attention to his phone. Doesn’t look up when you abandon him on the couch to help unpack the bags. Says, “I’m signing her up for Tinder so she can finally get laid,” and also doesn’t look up when Jungkook chokes on an inhale and one of the bags splits in half.

Before he moved in with you, Jungkook lived with Hoseok.

It’d gone great, all things considered. Jungkook couldn’t have asked for a better first roommate, fresh out of high school and his family home and hundreds of kilometers from the salty air of Busan. He’d nearly been sick with anxiety, all green around the edges, and Hoseok had pulled him into a hug and calmed his fraying nerves. Helped him with his homework and taught him how to cook and pecked at his heels like a mother hen when his room got too messy.

Just like he’s doing now.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says, not at all able to hide the surprise in his voice when he pulls open the door and finds Hoseok on the other side. “What are you doing here?”

Hoseok tuts. “I told you I was coming by this weekend to clean. I haven’t been here in weeks—”

“I know how to clean,” Jungkook argues, face growing warm from misplaced embarrassment, that Hoseok still thinks he’s a dumb kid who doesn’t know any better. “I said you didn’t have to come.”

His hyung’s face softens. “I know you know how to clean, Jungkookie, I’m just… I still feel responsible for you. You’re the first child I raised and released into the world.”

Jungkook sighs. Knows this is a losing argument. Opens the door wide enough to accommodate Hoseok and his bags of cleaning supplies, and doesn’t say a word as he follows Hoseok around the apartment even though he wants to say, I told you so. The entire place is spotless. There’s nothing to clean. No dust on the floor. Sparkling kitchen countertops. Laundry freshly-washed and hung on the drying rack by the window, warm in the midday sun. No toothpaste in the bathroom sink; no hard water stains on the shower glass.

All that’s left is Jungkook’s bedroom. That, too, is spotless, and Hoseok has never had a poker face and certainly can’t muster one now. “Why is it so clean in here?” he asks, taking in the bare floor, void of dirty clothes and whatever hobby equipment Jungkook had taken up that week; the pristinely-made bed with its hospital corners and fluffed pillows; the end tables that are suspiciously void of dust.

“Because I know how to clean,” Jungkook tartly replies, rolling his eyes. “I told you, there’s—”

“Are you even living in here?” Hoseok continues, either oblivious to or pointedly ignoring the way Jungkook starts to panic. “Because it doesn’t smell weird, either, and we all know that wasn’t the case before.”

“I have an air freshener.”

“Uh-huh.”

Hoseok continues his search. Actually praises Jungkook on the way he’d organized his clothes, the fact that everything in his drawers is folded and not shoved in haphazardly, that the few nice pieces he owns are hung in the closet. Kneels on the floor to check under the bed: empty, except for the XBox controller Taehyung had left behind the last time he came over to binge Valorant.

And Jungkook should’ve known—should’ve anticipated this—because it’s his Hobi-hyung and if there’s anything his Hobi-hyung is neurotic about it’s cleanliness and he’s got eyes like a hawk, makes him deadly efficient at spotting dust, so it’s really no surprise when he lets out a shrill a-ha! and pops out from under the bed with a pair of lacy underwear pinched between his fingers, but Jungkook should’ve anticipated it, anyway.

“And what do we have here?”

What Hoseok has here is Jungkook’s favorite pair of your underwear, but he can’t say that, so he just feels the way his face flushes with embarrassment again and wonders if he’d get out of the impending interrogation if he starts crying. “Um. Nothing?”

“Sure doesn’t look like nothing,” Hoseok continues, voice animated and lilting, the teasing smile evident even though Jungkook can’t bring himself to look. “Can’t believe my little Jungkookie is all grown up.”

Jungkook doesn’t feel grown up, he feels mortified. Feels like he wants to sink right through the floor, like he wants to disappear for three to five business years. Feels like an idiot for being so insistent on all this secrecy, because now he can’t tell Hoseok that the lacy underwear he’s inspecting belongs to you and that the two of you have been together for a while, that it’s great, Jungkook thinks this might be It, and all he can do is blurt out the first thing he can think of, which is—

“It’s mine.” Hoseok’s head turns so fast his neck creaks. “I’m, uh. Experimenting.”

Hoseok shrieks. Jungkook shrieks. “What the fuck,” Hoseok shrieks again as he drops the underwear to the floor and kicks it under the bed. “Why wouldn’t you just say that—”

“That’s what you get for going through my stuff!”

Hoseok doesn’t come over to clean again.

On the weeks you don’t see Namjoon, you spend your Fridays having game night at Jimin’s.

It’s always a raucous affair—wouldn’t be possible any other way with the friend group you’ve got, now seamlessly blended with Jungkook’s—and it’s always your responsibility to supply the snacks. You pop into the store after work, leave with your arms full of junk like you looted the place, and the man in front of you in line takes so long you miss the bus and have to wait for the next.

Which leaves you very little time to get ready, so you rush through a shower to rinse off the work grime and grab the first pair of leggings and sweatshirt you see, slip your feet into slides that may or may not be yours, and run down the hall to Jimin’s.

Laughter can be heard from just outside the door—Hobi’s and Jin’s louder than everyone—and it makes you smile. Warmth blooms in your chest, all affection, and it has you feeling terribly fond of this group you’ve cobbled together. Has you smiling wider as you punch in Jimin’s door code and let yourself inside. Has you dropping off the snacks in the kitchen and wanting to hug the first person you find, except one Park Jimin has other plans.

“Why are you wearing Jungkookie’s hoodie?” he says in lieu of a greeting.

You look down. Certainly is Jungkook’s hoodie, mixed in with the clean laundry you hadn’t gotten around to putting away yet, and you’re sure there’s no hiding the way your jaw drops a little. The man in question is across the room, stuck in a conversation about fuck knows what with Taehyung, and he sends you a panicked look that can only be an instruction to lie your ass off. So you huff, say, “What d’you mean? This is mine,” and paint on the most annoyed expression you can conjure.

“It absolutely is not yours,” Jimin retorts.

This time you look annoyed for real. “Ugh, who cares? Since when did you become an expert on our personal belongings?”

When you first met Jimin, you’d been tricked into thinking he was a sweet, innocent angel; the kind of person who would do anything for his loved ones, including not interrogating them over whose clothes they wear. Quickly, you learned this was not the case. Jimin is lovely and kind, but he’s also perceptive as hell and shameless, so he smirks knowingly and answers with, “Since I bought them.”

Which… makes sense, you can admit. You vaguely recall Jungkook’s last birthday and the way he’d gasped and insisted on Jimin returning the hoodie he’d gifted him because it was too expensive and the way Jimin had laughed and waved him off, because Jungkook has always been his favorite and he’s never attempted to hide it. The hoodie you’re wearing now could, theoretically, be that exact gift. It’s definitely soft enough to be made from something expensive.

“Oh,” you reply, changing gears entirely. “Well, you know how it is. Sometimes laundry gets mixed up. I’m sure you and Taehyung have worn each other’s clothes by accident, too.”

Jimin doesn’t buy it, you can tell, but he thankfully drops the issue. Watches you and Jungkook like a hawk for the rest of the night, just waiting to capitalize on any other slip-ups, but you purposely fall into a conversation with Yoongi that’s too boring for any normal human to follow along with, and Jungkook calls dibs on Mario Kart until someone can beat him, so there are no slip-ups to catch.

However, if the one constant of your friend group is that Jungkook is Jimin’s favorite regardless of Taehyung’s pouting, the second is that Jung Hoseok cannot hold his liquor.

He’s four mixed drinks deep, skin flushed and eyes half-lidded with sleep, when he stands on top of Taehyung and Jimin’s coffee table and shouts, for everyone to hear, “Hey, did you guys know Jungkookie started wearing women’s underwear?”

For once, this comes as a complete shock to you, too.

The thing about being in love, Jungkook finds, is that it’s nearly impossible to shut up about it.

He’s trying to be cool. He’s trying to be normal. He feigns delight and care when his coworkers talk about their partners, pretends he’s paying attention and not just waiting for his turn to talk about you. He prints pictures of the two of you off his phone and frames them and displays them at his desk, and all someone has to say is, “That’s a cute picture, Jungkook-ssi—” before all his affection for you erupts out of him like a volcano.

So far he’s been careful. His coworkers are sick of hearing about you, but they’re an outlet for everyone he can’t talk about you with. Like his friends, because he’d decided early on it was better to keep everything a secret for a little bit because he didn’t want things to be weird (and because he’s low-key terrified of Namjoon, because he’s gentle and clumsy but he’s still big) and now he’s regretting it but it feels like it’s gone on too long and he’s in too deep.

Really, it’s no surprise he slips up. Has probably been overdue for one like this for a while.

They’re at the arcade. Taehyung has sunk the last of his disposable income for the week into a claw machine stocked with LINE characters. Wants to win a Sally plushie for Jimin because he says they look alike. It’s cute, the bond they have, platonic soulmates the way you and Namjoon are, and Jungkook is starry-eyed and love-drunk when he heaves a wistful sigh and thinks out loud, “I should win something for her, too.”

The words catch Taehyung so off-guard his hand slips and presses the button to lower the claw. “Press it again,” Jungkook says. “If you double-press the button, it makes the claw stronger. You’ll get it.”

Taehyung is wary, still dazed from Jungkook’s slip-up, but he presses the button again anyway. The claw tightens around Sally’s head and drags her up and out of the pile, drops her into the chute and to Taehyung’s waiting hand. “Oh shit! Jungkookie, you’re a genius. Jimin’s gonna love this.”

“Yeah, sure. Didn’t know you didn’t know that trick or I would’ve told you sooner.”

His hyung nods absentmindedly, distracted with the selfie he’s sending to Jimin with Sally obscuring half his face. “Are you gonna try now?”

Jungkook swallows. “Huh?”

“You said you were gonna win something for someone.”

“No I didn’t,” he lies.

Taehyung’s face drops. Gets all serious when he shoves his phone in his back pocket. “Yes you did. Right before I won this,” he says, large hands wrapped around Sally’s poor neck, clearly strangling her. “You said I should win something for her, too. Who’s ‘her’? Are you seeing someone?”

“I said him, hyung,” he lies again. Is thankful for the garish arcade lights and the way they hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I meant Jimin-hyung.”

“You did not,” Taehyung insists. “You said her, and now you’re trying to gaslight me—”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Feigns exasperation. Swipes his game card and stares his hyung right in the eye as he drops the claw and double-taps, somehow picking up two plushies. Tosses Brown to Taehyung and says, “Tell Jimin his favorite dongsaeng won him that one.”

Tucks Cony safely in his pocket to give to you later, thankful the universe came through for him for once.

You (10:42pm): babe

You (10:42pm): what time do you think you’ll be home?

You (10:43pm): 🍆🍆🍆

Yoongi (11:06pm): What the fuck

You (11:08pm): oh fuck

You (11:08pm): that was NOT meant for you

Yoongi (11:14pm): Fucking obviously

Yoongi (11:14pm): Please do not ever accidentally sext me again

You (11:15pm): gross yoongi

You (11:15pm): that wasn’t a sext

You (11:15pm): i need it for the bokkeum i’m making

Yoongi (11:17pm): At midnight? Fuck off

Yoongi (11:17pm): Trade proposal

Yoongi (11:17pm): You never accidentally sext me again and I won’t tell the rest of our friends you’re secretly dating your roommate

You (11:29pm): it’s not even midnight 🙄

You (11:29pm): but that sounds good to me, thanks!

Hoseok had taught Jungkook how to cook, but not how to bake.

They’d attempted it, once, not long after Jungkook moved to Seoul and was homesick and missing his mom’s yaksik something terrible. Just wanted something that tasted like home, something comforting, and Hoseok had felt so bad for him that he said fuck it, let’s try, what’s the worst that could happen, and the two of them learned very quickly that nearly burning down their kitchen and the rest of their building was, in fact, the worst thing that could happen.

They never tried baking a damn thing after that, individually or together.

Still, there’s a special occasion coming up, so Jungkook asks the only person he trusts to help him.

“You need a cake,” Seokjin intones, swallowing his smile when Jungkook nods and his mop of curls bobbles along. Takes out a notepad to jot down ideas. “What’s the occasion?”

“Um. Just an… occasion.”

Seokjin blinks owlishly. “You just need a cake for an occasion? Do you wanna try again and actually be helpful this time?”

“What does it matter if I’m paying you, hyung?” Jungkook whines. “Aren’t cakes all the same?”

“Not if you want me to decorate it—”

“I don’t.”

“—because what am I supposed to write on it? Happy occasion, person whose name Jungkookie won’t tell me! Do you see how that might not work out for either of us?”

“Again, what does it matter—”

Seokjin looks up from his notepad, brows furrowed. “Are you ordering this for the president? What’s with all the secrecy?”

Jungkook huffs, puts on his Very Serious Face. “I can just take my business elsewhere if you’re going to interrogate me, hyung,” he says, to which Seokjin rolls his eyes, used to Jungkook’s dramatics.

“Be my guest,” he calls his bluff, gesturing to the front door of the bakery. “No one else is going to give you as good a discount as me, though.”

“I bet Junghwan-ssi would,” Jungkook grumbles, low but loud enough for Seokjin to hear, because there isn’t much else Jungkook can say that’d get under his hyung’s skin as much as the mention of his arch nemesis. “I bet I could walk into his bakery right now and explain the whole situation to him and he’d practically give it to me for free, just so it meant you didn’t get my business.”

And it works. Seokjin’s eyes narrow, chest starts heaving. “You wouldn’t,” he accuses, and Jungkook just shrugs, nonplussed, daring Seokjin to find out.

What follows can only be described as a tense standoff: Seokjin behind the counter of his bakery, looking hilariously underdressed for this stalemate in his pink apron, armed only with a pen; Jungkook, looking smug and pleased on the other side, not even knowing what Junghwan’s bakery is called, let alone where it is. The bell above the door chimes and neither breaks eye contact to look, and it’d probably go on like this forever, knowing the two of them, except the person behind Jungkook clears their throat, asks, “Excuse me, are you in line…?” and Seokjin is forced to concede if he wants to stay in business.

The person orders a cake for their daughter’s birthday. Answers each of Seokjin’s questions with certainty and preparedness, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the looks Seokjin shoots at him. See how easy it is to answer simple questions? they say. Why can’t you be like this?

Jungkook can’t be like that because the cake is for your birthday. Which Seokjin knows, because he has all of his friends’ birthdays saved to his phone calendar, but he’s never gone out of his way to get you a cake before so Seokjin will absolutely know something’s up. And as he waits for the person to be done ordering, his heart aches a little, because he wants to tell Seokjin to make you the nicest cake he can. Wants him to pull out all the stops, because it’s your birthday and you deserve it, and he could say all those things if he hadn’t insisted on this stupid secrecy.

Guilt consumes him so entirely he doesn’t notice the person leaving. Doesn’t hear the chime of the bell above the door. Is halfway to spilling the entire story to Seokjin, gets as far as hyung, there’s something I— before Seokjin holds up a hand to stop him.

“What kind of cake would you like, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook deflates. Takes all those transgressions he was about to confess to and shoves them back inside his chest, locks them away. “Whatever you think is best, hyung. Just no nuts.”

And Seokjin smirks knowingly, because there’s only one person he knows with a nut allergy.

#work: 1kfm #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jewel answers #jewel writes

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mimikittysblog · 9 months

Text

Soon to Be

Pairing: Husband! Jay x Reader

Genre: Angst, a lil bit of smut, fluff at the end

Synopsis: You and Jay are in the process of getting a divorce, however on this fateful night you found yourself under him once again. Is your soon to be divorce still gonna happen? Or will this moment change things for the better or the worse?

Warnings: Sex, mentions of arguments and divorce, i think thats it? If I miss anything let me know!

Word count: 1,9k words

A/N: OKAY I actually have so many other works I have yet to finish but I’m just gonna squeeze in this one. I got inspired to make this morning cause of a TikTok lol. I hope y’all like it! There’s not much dialogue in the beginning so I’m sorry if it’s boring but I do hope you guys will still like it! Okay then, enjoy!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

"J-jay.."

"Fuck."

"Aaah! Jay!" You moaned out as your soon to be ex husband thrusted harder.

Yup.

Soon to be ex husband.

You and Jay have been married for almost ten years, yet unfortunately times got rough. Big arguments over little things started becoming common, he became busy with work and almost never had any time for you and the kids etc. Pretty cliche but it happened.

It all accumulated into the biggest fight you two ever had and it ended with the two of you agreeing to get a divorce.

Not long after the process began and he even moved out already. It's been a pretty long process and you're not entirely sure why.. it even started to make you wonder if this was even worth it. Cause truth be told. You still loved your husband with all your heart. Then knowing that soon your signatures will be on divorce papers and your kids are always wondering what's gonna happen now is eating away at your heart.

What you didn't know is that it was eating away at his too.

Yet how did you end up here? yknow. under him again.

Well it was your son's birthday actually. So of course you all got together to celebrate it. However as Jay was about to leave to go back to his new place it started to rain heavily. Almost a hurricane really.

Or maybe you guys were just trying to find an excuse to have him stay the night.

So you suggested that to him. Furthermore not wanting to be cruel to the father of your kids and the love of your life you let him sleep in the same bed with you.

"Huh.. you haven't really changed anything did you?" He commented with a small longing smile when he walked into his.. old room.

Fuck did that hurt to think about.

To think about how he doesn't come home here anymore.

How this technically isn't his home anymore.

How now whenever he walks through the door he calls home he's no longer greeted by his kids and the love of his life.

"..I thought it was perfect the way it was.. so I didn't see the need to change it." You replied while looking down, leaning against the door.

Jay gulped before looking back at you and making his way towards you.

"..I thought it was perfect too.." He whispered when he was right in front of you.

..Was this still about the room?

You took a big gulp before looking up at your soon to be ex husband.

He looked at you like how he used to. Like you were the only thing in this universe.. like he loves you.

He does.

Yet you were too stubborn to acknowledge it. Trying so hard to convince yourself that he no longer had you in his heart. The divorce is about to happen.

But why is he looking at me like that? Like he still wants me? Like he still loves me?

He does.

and why aren't I looking away?

Because I still love him too.

Not being able to contain it anymore you both grabbed onto each other and shared a passionate lustful kiss.

And thats how you ended up here.

"Ugh. I-I've missed you!" Jay groaned as he was starting to near his climax, also trying to keep it down, not wanting to wake the kids.

"J-jay..! We.. ah! we really.. s-shouldn't be doing this..!" You croaked.

"But.. why does it feel so good??" He whispered, nuzzling his head into your neck.

"M-maybe its just cause you h-haven't found someone else to get your dick wet."

He stopped.

That's when you realized that you let that slip.

You didn't mean to say that..

He then pulled away to look at you, eyes wide but eyebrows furrowed. Truly appalled at what you just said to him.

"I.. Do... do you really think that..? Y/n. I.. would never. do that to you. Y/n. I'm still your legally wedded husband. and.. even if I wasn't already I would never find someone else to- y/n no one is like y- I just.." Jay couldn't even speak. Not believing that you would ever think this.

"...if.. if you really think all that I'm doing is just trying to use you for my personal sexual needs then we can stop." He explained sternly looking into your eyes.

..No.. You didn't think that.

He was making love to you. You knew. You felt it. You don't do this with someone you don't love.

But.. but you were soon to be divorced. It was soon to be over. He can't still be in love with you?

Can he..?

So in confusion and stubbornness you slowly put your hands on his chest pushing him away softly.

"We.. we should stop."

Jay said nothing as he looked down before slowly pulled out of you. He continued to keep the silence as he put your nightgown back on you and dressed himself. He then got in bed next to you and turned away.

"Goodnight Y/n.."

"...Goodnight Jay.. I.." You stopped yourself as tears slid down your face.

Not knowing Jay had stopped himself too.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

The next morning Jay woke up before you did. He smiled seeing you next to him and wanted so bad to just hold you in his arms and never let go.

But he had to leave soon, and he doesn't know if you wanted that too. So he got up and made his way to the kitchen and seeing he had some time he decided to make breakfast for his family like he used to. Before work, pride and other stupid shit that doesn't really matter got in the way.

Once he was finished he still had some time so he decided to prepare his kids uniform like how he did back then. Seeing how his kids sleeping peacefully as he prepared their uniforms just break his heart even more.

God he missed this so much.

Even when he still lived here he hadn't done this in so long. Plus he realized their uniforms have gone a size up, his little ones were starting to grow and he's been missing it. He hates this. Once their uniforms were prepared, he gave his kids each a kiss on their heads and a little note to motivate them through out the day.

He didn't have anymore time. He had to leave. But he didn't care anymore. He made his way back to your room and sees you still sleeping so peacefully. However as he got closer he saw the tear stains on the pillow and the tear tracks down your beautiful cheeks.

He fucked up. Big time.

So with that he kissed his wife forehead lovingly, also left her a personal little note as he left to make things right.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

It was now the afternoon and its almost time to pick up the kids from school.

You were really grateful Jay did what he did before he left. It really warmed your heart even though it brought tears to your eyes. Your kids seem to really appreciate it too, showing you the cute note their father left them.

You were just about to open the door and leave to pick them up but jumped back when you saw Jay at the door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and some documents in the other.

"Jay..? w-what are you doing here?"

"...To make things right."

"Jay? what?"

"I'm sorry.. for everything. Absolutely fucking everything. From the moment I started ignoring my duties as your husband and the father to our precious kids until now. Y/n.. I want to start over. Can we start over please? I miss you so much and I.. I still love you."

"You..? b-but jay were soon to be d-"

"I know. I know. But please stop with that.. just for a moment while I lay out my heart for you."

You took a deep breath then you nodded letting him continue.

"After what happened last night.. I couldn't believe how far I let this happened. I.. let you believed that I didn't love you anymore. That you were nothing more than someone I could use. And that I could ever find someone else other than you for anything. Y/n.. I fucked up. Everything. and honestly I don't even think I deserve to ask for a redo.. cause after last night I'm not sure I deserve you.. and after what I did to our family I don't know if you deserve someone as shitty as me..." Jay couldn't keep it any longer as his tears started to flow, causing yours to flow too.

"But I know.. that no one on this earth can love you as much as me. Because I love you.. I love you so so much. My love for you has always been real.. every time I told you that I love you has been nothing but the truth. And I know I haven't been proving that to you.. for fuck sake we were in the process of getting a divorce.. and I let this all happen to the point that this finally showed up in my email.." he continued through choked sobs

He then showed you the documents he was holding, which were the divorce papers. The papers that only needed your signatures to finalize everything.

"And I will forever be sorry for that. I.. I don't even remember who suggested it.. I don't know why I even agreed to it because I'm so madly fucking in love with you and I cannot just let us go. I need you.. I love you.. and I'm hoping you still love me too.. Even though I don't deserve you anymore.. or maybe I never did.. I'm still hoping you can let me fix everything and that we can have a do over..." He said looking at you with hopeful eyes as he offered the bouquet to you..

It looked exactly the same as the one he gave you when he confessed..

and the one when he gave you when you went on your first date.

and when he proposed.

He always remembered how much you loved this bouquet.

"But.. but if you truly... want this divorce.. then we can go inside to sign these.. I won't force you to accept me again... I just needed you to know that you will always.. always. have my heart. No matter what. No matter when. Until the day I die and even after. Even after time itself ends. My heart will forever be yours."

Hearing him tell you that just made you break out into sobs as well as you envelope him in a big hug.

"..Y-you remember your vow..." You sobbed into his shoulder.

Flashing back to the moment he told you this on your wedding day as a part of his vows.

"How could I ever forget..?"

You pulled away and held his face, staring into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want to try again..?"

"As sure as the day I asked you to be mine. as the day I asked you to marry me. and especially as sure as the day I said I do."

With that you took the papers and flung it across the room as you kissed your no longer soon to be ex husband.

"I love you so much Hubby." you mumbled against his lips.

"I love you too wifey. Now lets go pick up the kids and get some dinner."

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

#enhypen #jay park #park jongseong #enhypen jay #enhypen imagine #jay imagine #enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen fluff #jay fluff #enhypen angst #jay angst #mimikittysblog

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

Text

The Parent Trap | Prologue | Bradley Bradshaw x Ex-Wife!Reader

♡ Next Chapter | Masterlist

♡ In which, after a couple of years of listening to Peyton and Parker Bradshaw complain about their parents’ custody agreement, Grandpa Mav’s meddling goes a little bit too far.

♡ warnings: mentions of divorce throughout the fic, flashbacks to arguments and unhappily married people. Idiots who still love each other and don’t know it. (warnings will be added as story progresses).

…

“God dammit.” You sigh, leaning down into the passenger side footwell to grab your phone. After your hasty parking job, it’s wedged pretty securely under the metal bottom of the seat, impossible to reach from the angle you’re sitting in. You move up onto your knees and lean over, rummaging around for the lost device. This is the last thing you need.

It’s the third week of the semester and the second time so far that you’ve been called into the principal’s office.

The faint sound of seventies music coming from somewhere behind your shoulder alerts you to your ex-husband’s presence before you can see him. Shit, it must be bad if Rooster left work for it.

He turns his engine off and glances to his left. His lips quirk softly at the sight before him. You, in a pair of tight denim shorts, bent over the centre console and leaning down into the passenger side, searching for something. His smirk only grows as he steps down from his truck and swings the door shut behind him, tapping on the window of your 2018 Toyota corolla.

You flinch at the sound and turn your head to look back at him over your shoulder. He smiles, lifting his hand and waving his fingers at you. No matter how long passes between you seeing him, he always looks the same — and he’s usually got that smug look on his face. You roll your eyes and turn back towards your mission.

It’s been two years since the divorce became official. Still, Bradley glances down at those form fitting shorts and reminisces. It’s an outfit like that that got you into this mess in the first place. Fingers curling around your phone, you huff and catch ahold of your bag, then sit upright again. Rooster grabs the door and pulls it open, stepping out of your way.

“How’s it going, Mama?”

You scoff, shaking your head as you drape the tote over your shoulder and slip your phone into your back pocket. “I’d be better if your kids stopped being such miscreants.”

He chuckles, flightsuit tied around his waist and gold rimmed sunglasses covering his eyes. The teachers around here always go wild when he shows up like this. “My kids, huh?”

You step around him and nod your head, wishing that you were less familiar with the path to the principal’s office than you currently are. Rooster trails behind you, taking another quick glance down at those shorts he’s so fond of, “Did they tell you what we’re here for?”

“No, the lady on the phone just said that Principal James needed to speak to the both of us.” Rooster confirms your suspicions. This must be pretty bad. You groan in frustration, pushing through the front door.

“That’s what they told me too — I wonder what they did now.” You can only shake your head at the thought as the two of you sign in and are led to the principal’s office. Rooster takes his time, looking around at the colourful artwork on the walls, seemingly unfazed by whatever havoc your children have caused this time. He’s always so calm when it comes to them. He had been so different in the beginning. Terrified when those two blue lines showed up. Nauseous when the doctor confirmed that there were two heartbeats. He had almost blacked out during your labour. You can still remember the way he had periodically baby proofed not only the place that you shared, but also his Uncle Maverick’s house and your parents’ place. Anywhere his kids were going needed to be up to his standard.

Somewhere after the year mark, they had become significantly less fragile in his eyes. When they’re jumping off of high surfaces or climbing trees, dangling off of the slide at the park, he’s usually nearby with a smile on his face. He likes seeing his kids be more carefree than he ever was in childhood.

Rounding the corner, the girls’ reactions to the two of you are exceptionally polarized. When you had been told that you were expecting identical twin girls, you had expected the polar opposite trope — a mischievous daredevil tomboy and a goodie-two shoes who loved to dress up. Instead, you had received two partners in crime who were somehow all of those things at once. Freckled skin, rounded, rosy cheeks and long curls, it’s hard to tell them apart sometimes, but they still have their differences.

Peyton, Twin A — as determined by your first ultrasound, your firstborn, sits upright and beams at the two of you. It’s a rare occasion that she sees both of her parents in the same place these days. “Daddy!”

At her side, Parker, Twin B, your youngest, shrinks down in her chair in immediate realization. If you’re both here, then they’re in big trouble. For a seven year old, she’s getting good at reading the room. She turns those big brown eyes towards the ground and purses her lips.

Peyton leaps up and rushes forwards, wrapping her arms around Rooster’s waist, pressing her freckled cheek into her stomach. He grunts softly as she hits into him, then breaks out grinning as he hugs her against his middle, “Hey, Honeybee.”

He looks towards his remaining daughter. Parker glances up sheepishly, hands folded into her lap. Bradley smiles softly, “How about you, Peanut? — You got a hug for Daddy?”

You fold your arms over your chest as he pushes herself up from the chair. Bradley settles down onto his knees, opening up his arms and taking one of them in each. He hums as he hugs them tightly against him, then pulls back and scrunches his nose just slightly. “So, what’d you guys do?”

The twins stop and then share and equally worrisome glance. You squint at the two of them. “Girls.” You prompt.

“It was an accident!”

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to!”

Rooster lifts his head and this time it’s your turn to share equally worried looks. The door clicks open ahead of you.

Principal James steps out and rests her wrinkled hands on her hips. Rooster stands upright at your side. Under that cold, weathered gaze, it suddenly feels like the two of you are the ones in trouble. You swallow softly as she lifts a hand and beckons you into her office without a word.

“Sit down, girls, we’ll be right back.” You say softly, tapping their shoulders and nudging them back towards their seats. Rooster tucks his sunglasses into the collar of his black t-shirt and closes the oak office door behind him. You sit down in one of the chairs opposite her impressive, heavy mahogany desk.

She has been teaching for twenty years, and your twins have still managed to surprise her on this occasion.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw, I wish I could say that it’s a pleasure to be speaking with you today,” Her tone is sharp. Rooster presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, whilst you count the tiles on the ceiling. “Unfortunately, today’s meeting has a rather unpleasant subject matter. Are you at all aware of the twins’ mission to… impersonate each other?”

Rooster’s lips quirk. They’ve been trying to swap places since they were two. They usually get caught pretty quickly. They’ve done it at school before, but they always mess up quickly. Their longest record for being undetected was three days at your parents’ house. “Yeah, they do that as a joke sometimes.”

“Well, today they switched outfits in the bathroom and went into each other’s classes.”

Your brows scrunch slightly. Sure, it’s a dumb thing to do, but it can’t be a punishable offense to swap outfits with your sister. Principal James looks between the two of you and finds no remorse on either of your faces so far. Clearly you aren’t following.

“Has Parker ever mentioned a boy named William Prescott?”

“Oh my god.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Bradley frowns at your side, looking between you and the principal, lost. You turn your head. “He’s been picking on her. He pushed her down in the playground last week.”

“That’s what that cut on her knee was? — She said she tripped.” Bradley frowns, immediately engaging in that protective parent mode that’s neither helpful or impressive.

“She didn’t want to tell you because she knew you’d freak out.” You explain sitting back in the chair and rubbing at your temples. Her judgemental stare is just about enough to bring you out in a stress rash.

“So, why didn’t you tell me?” Bradley’s tone is accusatory, his expression even more so. He’s always been protective when it comes to his girls, including you not too long ago. It’s a sweet sentiment, but sometimes it’s too much and the girls are quickly picking up on that.

“Because I knew you’d freak out, and I already spoke to Billy’s mom about it.” You speak gently, acutely aware of the way that the principal’s crows feet deepen when she squints dubiously at you like she’s doing now. Rooster remains completely unaware of her judging your parenting at your side.

“Clearly that worked because —“

“The twins switched classrooms so that Peyton could, in their words, ‘take care of’ the issue.” Principal James interrupts. Both you and your ex-husband are silenced as you stare ahead at her. “Peyton proceeded to walk over to William’s desk and hit him in the face.”

You press a hand over your mouth and close your eyes, exhaling softly. Bradley sits back in the chair, leaning his head back and groaning quietly.

“At this moment in time, we have no choice but to place the twins on a short suspension.”

You purse your lips and wince. Seven years old and suspended for plotting out, and executing assault. This isn’t your proudest parenting moment.

“Suspension? — They’re in the second grade, it was just—“

“We won’t be reconsidering our decision, Mr. Bradshaw,” The principal interrupts, holding out a hand to silence him. He glances across at you. “There is some paperwork for you at the front desk, we look forward to having the girls back in a week’s time. Maybe the two of you could have a word with them about their behavior during their time off.”

Scolded, the two of you step out into the hallway, each of you silently blaming the other. The twins look at the two of you expectantly.

“Give us a second to talk, okay? — Don’t move, you’re both in big trouble.” Rooster warns them, his face stern. They frown at him in unison, then look towards each other. He reaches out, tapping his fingers against your forearm to nudge you away from the two of them. Once you’re out of earshot, he folds his arms over his chest.

“Alright, we should probably talk to them about this together, so I can swing by your place tonight after work. Like six?” He checks his watch and looks back up at you.

“Wait, wait — I can’t take them right now, I have meetings with clients all afternoon. Today’s your day to pick them up.” You frown at him. The custody agreement was fifty-fifty, two days with you, two days with him. It’s inconvenient for both of your schedules and the twins hate moving around as much as they do, but neither one of you has had the time recently to call up the lawyers and fix a new schedule.

“No, I have a debrief today that I’m already going to be late for. It’s your day.” Bradley shakes his head quickly and crosses his arms over his chest. Sometimes you think that he just does that to show off his arms. His biceps strain against the fabric of that fitted black shirt.

He’s bigger now than when you met him, filled out more into his adulthood. Years of lifting two growing girls up whenever they ask him to. Heading to the gym often so that they won’t outgrow being held by him.

Still, there’s a reason that it’s over and tanned skin and arm veins won’t change that.

“No, it’s Tuesday. The seventh.” You argue.

“Actually, it’s Wednesday. The seventh.” He mocks you back. Real mature. But, unfortunately— your phone confirms that he’s correct. You sigh and throw your head back. You’ve been so out of sorts all week, turned around with work and the kids.

Two kids running wild around a boutique that’s smaller than some of your clients’ closets. You can just see it now, them breaking into the expensive fabric whilst you’re distracted with clients. You shake your head quickly. “Shit. I can’t take them to work with me.”

Bradley purses his lips. Two kids on a naval base while he’s in a confidential meeting that they can’t sit in on sounds like an even worse idea.

When you found out you were expecting, the two of you had made an agreement that your career wouldn’t suffer as a result of parenthood. Given that Rooster is practically government owned, it’s hard for him to be as flexible as he would like. But, he has always made sure you had the support you needed. “Hold on, I’ll call Mav.”

It seems like a bad idea to send the twins to practically their favourite place on earth when they’re supposed to be being punished, but you’re out of other options.

“Idiot, I told you to wait until recess to—“ Parker’s voice trails as she spots her parents headed back in her direction. Peyton squints at the frown on her father’s face. The two of them learned early on that their Dad was wrapped around their fingers, he could barely stand to punish them and so he let them get away with more. The look on his face now tells them that he’s serious.

“I was doing you a favour.” Peyton whispers back angrily.

One look at their guilty little faces and they’re already tugging at your heartstrings. Still, you need to be strong.

“Your father and I have to get back to work, but we want you to know that we are taking this very seriously — we’re going to have a long talk about this later tonight, okay? — What you did was so wrong!”

Rooster glances across at you. Watching the same girl that he was doing body shots off of ten years ago turn out to be such a good mother is an interesting turn of events. He bites his cheek to contain his smile. If you told him back then that things would have turned out like this, with two incredible children, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it.

“We’re sorry.” They say at the same time, looking up at the two of you with those brown doe-eyes. It’s the winning combo, they inherited that puppy-dog look from their dad and mastered it years ago, and they are expressly aware of how funny Rooster finds it when they say the same thing at the same time.

As Rooster stands firm, both of you unwavering before them, your twins give in to their fate and sit back, groaning in complaint.

After his retirement last year, which he was practically forced into, kicking and screaming, Maverick was practically itching to babysit the girls every chance he gets. With Amelia off at college now, and Penny banning him from around the house DIY, he likes the chaos that they bring. For similar reasons, they adore Maverick.

“I’m serious, Mav,” Rooster frowns, his face stern as he holds the twins still. They’re practically buzzing with excitement at his sides as they wait to be allowed inside. “They’re in big trouble. No TV, no games. Have them sit there and finish the worksheets their teacher gave them, or have them clean the floors or something, I don’t care. No fun.”

Maverick takes a quick glance downwards at his freckle-faced granddaughters, both of them staring up at him in worry, hoping that he’ll disagree with their dad.

“Sure thing. I’ll keep ‘em busy.” Maverick agrees seriously, giving a quick, orderly nod of his head. The girls both frown, dejected as they pout at the wooden slats of the porch.

“Alright. If their Mom gets here before I do,” Bradley lowers his voice and squints at his uncle. “Do me a favour and please don’t be weird.”

“Weird? — I’m never weird.” Maverick answers defensively. Bradley squints at him. That’s far from true and they both know it. Maverick was always a big fan of you — you remind him of himself in some ways, and he’s always thought you were good for Bradley. Rooster still jokes that Maverick was more upset about the divorce than anyone else.

“Uh… alright. Be good for Mav, I’ll see you guys later. I love you.”

Maverick ushers the girls inside at once and waits until Bradley’s truck disappears down the road before he turns to address them. With it pouring rain outside, and the trouble they’re in, there’s limited fun that they can have. Something with no evidence. Before that, he needs a chore that they can complete that will satisfy Rooster but not take all afternoon and kill Mav’s fun.

“Alright, we’re clearing out the hallway closet, kids. Move it.”

An hour later, Maverick’s brows are furrowed as he’s thirty pieces into a two hundred piece puddle, sitting in the middle of the hallway floor. His navy expertise means that the twins have a good system, Peyton pulling down items, Parker sorting them into keep or toss.

Only, given the difficulty of piecing together the dozen shades of blue that make up the sailboat puzzle, Maverick hasn’t noticed that they stopped sorting through items five minutes ago. Now, they’re both leaning over a photo album, flicking through pictures.

“Is this Mommy?”

Maverick looks up, brows furrowed. He spins the album towards him without question and smiles at the picture. This was when he was teaching Top Gun that one time, it’s a picture of you at the beach, holding a football and posing with your arm flexed into a muscle.

“Yeah, look at this one.” Maverick flicks to the next page and spins it back towards the two of them. Their faces twist up in a mixture of excitement and amusement. It’s a picture of Rooster draped around you, squeezing you in his arms, his head resting against yours, the two of you beaming. Behind the two of you, the twins’ Uncle Jake is flexing both of his biceps, sticking his tongue out to bomb the picture.

“Daddy’s tummy doesn’t look like that anymore.” Parker snorts, shaking her head, cheeks dimpling as she looks up with a grin on her face. Maverick smiles. He sees so much of the both of you in the both of them.

“They look really really happy.” Peyton adds on.

Maverick nods. “They were. Here, you want to see some more?”

Chores quickly abandoned, daytime movie channel playing on the TV, cutting out every now and again as the weather screws with the signal, the living room floor is littered with old albums.

“Mommy’s wedding dress was so pretty.” Peyton traces her fingertips over the picture, examining the intricacies of the dress. Maverick smooth his hands over her curls and nods his head.

“That day was so special. Your Daddy was so nervous all day.” He chuckles fondly at the memory. Standing at the end of the aisle with Rooster and periodically reminding him to breathe. After so much missed time with Bradley, all of those years of not speaking, sitting here and listening to these delighted little giggles makes his heart warm.

He hadn’t ever been ready for children, but it turns out that being a grandfather was his calling. Passing on his stories, explaining funny faces and little anecdotes about each picture that they come across, seeing their little faces just light up.

They work through the wedding pictures, the work events, the beach days. The pregnancy, the birth, the newborn pictures.

“Is that me or her?” Parker asks as she squints at a picture of you holding a chubby-cheeked newborn on Mav’s porch, smiling tiredly. Maverick remembers that first year of parenthood, you and Bradley stumbling around half-awake that entire time.

“Honey, I’m not even sure who’s who right now.” Maverick admits with a smile. They roll their eyes fondly and continue to flip through memories they’re too small to remember.

They move onto pictures of their toddler years. Lots of pigtails and matching dresses back then, muddy knees and toothy grins. Peyton lingers on one page, lips falling down into a soft frown as she slips the picture from its place on the page.

It’s a picture of them in the backyard at their house, sitting in the sandpit that Rooster had built one summer after reading that it’s good for safety and motor skills all at once. Him, sitting in a pair of shorts and those gold rimmed sunglasses, shoulder reddened under the sun, dog tags hanging around his neck, grinning. Peyton, on his lap, eyes squeezed shut as she squeals excitedly, sand balled in her chubby fists. You, at his side, wearing a pretty sundress and grinning against his cheek, right about to kiss him once you can stop laughing. Parker standing between your legs, lips parted, staring towards the camera like she just heard something shocking.

Mav, behind the camera, his heart so full.

“I wish they were still together.” Peyton mumbles dejectedly. Her sister looks over and examines the picture, then gives a small nod. They hate being without one of you all of the time.

Maverick looks up and looks between the two of them. Those pouted lips, that sad look in those eyes. He looks back down at the happy couple in that picture. The two of you were so in love back then.

It should take him longer to think about than it does. He probably shouldn’t include them in the decision making, but it’s not the worst idea he has had in the past couple of years.

“Have you guys ever seen the Parent Trap?”

…

@thedroneranger @xoxabs88xox @khaylin27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @sufferingophelia

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw au #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader

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in-hav3n · 9 months

Note

heyy

i just had this idea:

imagine current james hiring a young woman as his personal assistant, to help him organize his schedule and stuff like that.

she's good at her job but she's a dynamic and kind of stubborn person. one day james misunderstands something so he thinks that she messed up even tho HE was the one who actually messed up.

he started complaining about what he thinks she did wrong but then she manages to prove that she was right all along and that he had misunderstood the situation.

he gets turned on by her dynamism and the way she defended herself and proved him wrong so he ends up fucking her on his desk.

(please, write how you imagine the argument and of course the last part when he fucks her 🤭)

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ?

Warnings : NSFW - sex scene - rough sex - age gap

"(X/Y) ? Can you come in my office, now ?".

James' voice interrupted you as you were sitting at the kitchen table, talking about a new vegetarian restaurant in town with Kirk. Your eyes landed on your boss and you nodded professionally.

"Yes, sure".

His appearance was enough to change the atmosphere of the room. Curiously, all the conversations stopped and everyone looked at James. Kirk looked at you with a curious frown too, wondering why his buddy adopted this particular tone to ask. You answered him with a shrug. You had no idea what he wanted since it was near the end of the day and you were all about to leave. Maybe he wanted to ask you one more important task that had to be done now ? Who knows with James...

You greeted goodbye to the guys and some management's member that were in the kitchen or in the recording room as following James through HQ's alleys. HQ was now a pretty big building the guys had fitted out through the years. Each rooms had its own purpose, going from recording room to instruments storage. They also thought to put a recreation room where they could play pool or have fun with a pinball machine when they needed to refresh their mind from talks and argues about the songs of the new album.

James' office was the last room at the end of the building, next to a tech room and the laundry room. You didn't know why he had chosen to have this one since the others were more close to the exit, on the other side of the building, but only assumed that it was his way to have his own personal space where he could be quiet. Which wouldn't surprised you considering his character.

James was a respectful, nice and empathic boss. When you were hired as his personal assistant, a year ago, you had fears since he was a big rockstar and seemed pretty intimidating but he was the exact opposite. He was really a gentle, down to earth man who let you do your job the best you could. He was very understanding and never complained. That's why his earlier attitude surprised you. He seemed concerned and his face showed no expressions. Which was even more stressful. But you had also learned that since his divorce, James seemed more introvert, sometimes quiet and with no expressions...

He opened his office door for you and moved to the side to let you in. You thanked him by passing by, still holding your agenda and your smart computer against your heart. As a good employee, you just stood in front of his desk and waited for him.

"Is there anything I can do ?", you finally asked, breaking the ice.

Usually he would have told you immediately what was the matter. His silence was uncomfortable. James closed the door when you got in and joined you, hands in his pocket. You follow each of his step with your glance, heart beating of anticipation.

"Actually yes. We have a problem", you frowned at his words.

The world "problem" was enough to feel even more nervous. You waited for an explanation he gave right away. He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and open his mails, still in silence. You started to breathe deeper, holding tighter your personal stuffs against your chest as waiting for the reason of his disappointment. But even after searching in your mind, you found no reasons for him to be disappointed.

"Cigar Aficionado sent me an mail to confirm the photoshoot on Wednesday the 6th", he started as looking at you. "We talked about it and we both agreed on the 8th. If you wanted to change the date to match with one of my another appointment you could have told me before (X/Y). Now I have to change all my schedule cause I had planned something else on this date".

His tone was professional, direct and serious. You didn't recognize the James you knew and it was really curious. You listened at his speech and waited to defend yourself.

"I'm sorry Mr Hetfield but...", you gulped, shaking your head. "The date never changed. When we talked about this interview and photoshoot, you told me you preferred a Wednesday and it was the only date available", you explained, not believing your ears. James was thinking you completely messed up but you did nothing wrong. As always, he was the one choosing the date first.

"A Wednesday? I doubt it", he replied back, with a chuckle. "Now it's scheduled for a day that doesn't suit me at all and I'm really disappointed".

His words hurt like a knife. "Disappointed". It hurt cause you always did your best, everyday. You always checked everything twice to be sure. You were always reachable, day and night, and you always fulfilled all his ask. You wanted to show him your value and this was you got in return. You had to fight back.

"I'm deeply sorry but I have nothing to do with this", you added with a convinced tone. "I can prove it to you", you quickly opened your agenda, holding it against you carefully. James joined you to see but he didn't seem to be ready to believe you. You held your breath for a short brief when you feel his stature next to you. You finally found the page and pointed out the info for him with a shaken finger.

"There. 6th April. Photoshoot and interview. I wrote this with you, we were in your office. I even told you they were particularly fussy concerning the schedule and you told me you didn't care. You also did a joke about the name of their press manager".

James frowned at your explanation, with an expression that seemed to say "I'm still searching if I should believe you or not", but kept a inner chuckle when he heard you remembered one of his stupid joke. He was surprised you paid attention to this. But he was also surprised that you dared to say he was the one to be wrong. He always thought you were a nice shy girl and he was witnessing another side of your personality...and he was enjoying it.

"Maybe but still", he replied back. He had now an idea in mind and wanted to see where this could lead..."You did wrong and I'm really disappointed. I don't want this to happen again", he conclued as turning his back to leave.

You opened your mouth. It was incredible. You placed your stuffs on his desk in a too much harsh movement but you couldn't contain your frustration anymore. He was really stubborn and you were sure to be right. He had to listen. It wasn't fair to accuse you.

"Listen. Once again I'm sorry if this date doesn't suit you but I tell you, once again, I'm not responsible. You asked me to plan this on the 8th April and as your personal assistant, I scheduled it as you asked", you explained.

James turned over and looked at you. His no expression face disturbed you for a while but your envy of justice was enough to give your courage. But deep inside, James was enjoying this moment. There you were finally showing what he wanted to see and he was pleased. You had the guts to defy him and he liked it.

"Are you sure of it ?", he asked, wanting to push you to the limit. He wanted to see what you could do and what you'd be ready to do to prove you were right.

"Of course I am", you gasped in disbelief. "I'm sorry but I'm doing my job the best I can since you hired me ! Within a year, I don't think I've ever done a misstep. I'm giving myself every day for this job because I really like it and with all due respect I don't like hearing that I did something wrong when I know I didn't".

James smiled, amused and more impressed by your determination. He had to admitted that he always found you really pretty and beautiful but this character you had now was really turning him on. Your white shirt slightly opened revealed a bit your pink skin near your breasts and it was enough to make him burn of excitement.

"Would you swear it ?", he asked, playing his game till the end, coming closer like a pretador. You didn't notice his play tough, neither what he was about to do. But stil, seeing him closer was enough to make you loose your breath a little.

"Of course, I-I'd", you said back, not understanding what was happening. "I swear... I- I din't nothing wrong. You misunderstood and...". You were cut off by James lips crashing on yours. You pulled away immediately, surprised, as placing your both palms on his strong chest.

Even with heels, you weren't tall enough to be face to face with him. You looked up at him, asking for an explanation but you only got a chuckle as James hands laid on your hips.

You were totally hypnotized by his beautiful blue eyes, his smirk and his delicate touch. But it was all wrong...Of course, you always found him really charming and gorgeous, who could resist to this man? Him holding you this way was a dream coming true. But you also remembered that he was older than you and most of all, he was your boss. It wasn't right at all.

Your butt landed against his desk and the air in the room became thick and extremely hot.

"You did wrong you know that...", James said with his husky voice. You didn't leave his gaze and shook your head. He wanted to get you on your nerves and it was working.

"I did not...", you challenged him with a more confident tone as diving into his beautiful blue eyes. One last corner smile and James bend again to kiss you, more hungrily, more deeper this time. And you let it go...One of your hand landed on his neck to push him further against your lips. They were soft, tasting sweetly cigar and mint and now that you tasted them, you wanted them more. You forgot all the previous thoughts you had and only focused on what was happening and how good this was.

James left your lips to devour your neck with wet kisses. You moaned shyly and closed your eyes, as one hand gripped his shirt whilst the other ran into his grey hair. James enjoyed your touch and let you know by a slight moan against your skin. His hungry fingers opened her shirt more and this made you looked at what he was doing in disbelief. You helped as putting off your shirt out of your skirt before he nearly ripped the last button. He opened the clothe in one movement to give attention to your breasts now.

"Oh god...", you moaned in a whisper as your head fell back and your hand gripped the edge of the desk to have a better support. No doubt James definitely knew what to do with his lips and tongue. He spread wet kisses on your skin whilst his fingers slowly pulled off your bra cup to expose your breast.

Being so exposed would had normally made you feel uncomfortable but with the adrenaline of the argument you had put you both in some sort of trance that couldn't stopped until the desire you felt would be fulfilled.

James looked up at you, while he was still feasting on your breasts, cupping them while he was sucking your already hard nipples. He was taking care of them like if it was a precious thing and this made you gasped of excitement as looking at him, caressing his face. He shifted into high gear without a word by pushing you on his desk to make you sit on it.

He knew what he wanted and you liked being conducted. But you also wanted to show him that you had guts for sex too and not only for argument. So your hands quickly found their way on his belt buckle and you opened his button, unzipped his jeans with shaking hands to reveal the huge bulge he was hiding in his boxer.

"In a hurry sweetheart?", he asked with a grin as he helped and pulled off his boxer along his thighs, his dick swinging proudly, hitting his lower belly. You bite your lower lip and looked at him with a grin. He played with you now it was time to play with him. Slowly, your palm embraced his hard member and your finger wrapped around his base as you gently started to stroke him. James groaned low and bend to kiss you softly.

"You seem to know what you want...", he whispered, adding another peck. You smiled and pecked him again while your hand was still working on him.

"I know I'm right...and I know what I want", you gasped in a sexy tone as using your other hand to stroke him better with two hands.

James eyes opened wilder and he chuckled at your answer.

"Then skirt up and take off that panties for me baby", he commanded again and as his nice and obedient employee, you did as he asked. You put your feet back on the ground, raised your skirt over your hips with your hands then sat again. James didn't stop looking, stroking himself as admiring the view. He didn't expect any of this but now he was craving for it. This argument and the guts you have showed were enough to awaken the beast.

With a swing, you roll on your butt and quickly pulled off your panties, your pussy shivering at the cold air of te room. You threw it somewhere, not caring, and opened your legs wide for him.

"You're ready for me sweetheart?", he asked and you checked on yourself on your own wetness, your fingers rubbing your wet lips. You were already wet and you've never been so wet so quickly before to be honest. This man really knew what he was doing and it was exciting as hell.

You nodded and James came closer, lining himself up with you. He pushed your pelvis further, with his hands gripping your butt to do so and you felt his tip hitting your entrance by surprise. You gasped a moan and looked beneath you whilst James giggled.

"Sensitive ?". He gently rubbed his tip on your wet lips with his right hand, collecting the wetness before he rubbed his tip on your clit. Another moan, louder this time, escaped your lips.

"Damn, fuck me!", you panted. You couldn't take this tease anymore and you needed him right now. James spat on his hand to add more wetness on his tip and then pushed inside you, with a slow but powerful thrust. His left hand gripped one of your thigh to keep you against him. He pushed enough to thrust deep and your hands had no choice but to grip his forearms. James pulled out and pushed in a few times to stretch you until he felt you were ready for a slow pace.

"Oh it's good...", you panted and moaned at the same time, your head rolling back and forth. You didn't want to miss any eye contact with him, noticing his pupils went darker, showing lust and excitement.

"Your pussy is so sweet and tight baby...", he groaned of pleasure and you grinned back at him, your nails digging inside his flesh.

"Faster please...fuck me harder", you commanded him as gripping one of his hips, pushing his lower back deeper inside you to show you the rhythm you want. He was so good at it that you couldn't resist to take the lead too. James moaned low and his hands gripped your both thighs, with a harder grip that would surely left marks tomorrow but you didn't care. You wanted him to ram into you now that he started this dance.

"FUCK yes! ", you moaned loud, not even thinking anymore that you were actually fucking your boss and this was real. Not even caring that someone might heard you behind the door. It was the end of the journey after all and everyone would left soon. No one was really coming in this side and maybe now you had found the reason why James' office was that far from the other rooms...

You started to move your pelvis at his pace, in unison, your hands now founding a better grip on his desk. His pubic hair were slightly scratching again your sensitive clit and it was extremely hot. But James didn't like sharing control and this attitude started to annoy him, but in a good way. It awakened the beast in him.

He suddenly pulled off in a move, his dick still hard and swollen from the fuck you just had. You whined of surprise, feeling completely empty.

"What's...?", you started to ask in a gasp, wondering what was happening. But James didn't let you finish your ask that he pushed you back on the ground and gently turned you over his desk. You have no other choice than to obey and this sudden change aroused you even more. He was taking control, he wanted to show you who was ruling.

"Ass up baby...", he groaned in a command tone. You moaned as doing what he asked, bending over the wooden table to grip the other edge of it, already anticipating what was about to come next. You felt your pussy pulsing of excitement, wanting him to fuck you again and more. James slapped your ass hard once and came behind you, his dick hitting your entrance from behind. You moaned and lifted a bit your ass to line up with him.

James bend his chest over your back, caught your throat with his palm as his face came closer. You felt his breath near your ear, making you shiver.

"I'm gonna fuck you so well...my dick is gonna pound into you so hard baby...", he whispered in a groan as slapping you again. You moaned loud.

"Oh yes please...I want it"

"Yes who?", he teased you, biting your earlobe as his catch around your throat tighten.

"Yes Mister Hetfield", you gasped of ecstasy, something deep inside you vibrating inside your entire body as you let out those words. This was turning you on in a level you've never experienced and you were sure you'd cum soon.

"That's better",he groaned before pulling away, pushing your lower back to line up properly. He rubbed his tip on your wet lips and you gasped again, waiting for the push. You wanted him more than anything. And in one deep thrust, James pushed inside you again. You moaned longer and higher, your fingers gripping the desk so hard it was hurtful.

"Look at you...", James groaned as spreading your ass to admire the view, "my cock is stretching your high pussy...you're so desperate for me...so wet for my cock". You whined hard and moved your body, fucking yourself against his cock. You desperately wanted to come since you felt you were over the edge. But James stopped when he felt your moves and slapped you again. You groaned low with an erotic moan.

"I command sweetheart...", he whispered with a strong tone, letting you know who was commanding again. His hand ran along your back, spreading the sweat drops that started to appear on your skin. You simply nodded and waited for your issuance. James hand went on his exploration as he thrusted very slow into you until this hand pushed you against him. Your back hit his chest and his strong inked arm wrapped around you to keep you there.

And now James gave you what you wanted. He started to ram into you, frantically. His pelvis hit your butt in harsh moves and this was providing good sensations too with his dick thrusting hard and deeper into you like this.

"Hold...on me...baby", he panted hard and you tried to hold on him the best you can to not fall.

"Oh my god yes...fuck me please", you begged as feeling a strong and powerful bund of energy blowing inside your lower belly, announcing your close orgasm. "I'm gonna cum", you panted and your eyes rolled back behind your eyes.

"Come on my cock baby, do it", James helped you with his dirty talk as going faster, the faster he could, gripping your both arms from behind to slam more inside you until he felt you losing control. He caught you before you fell and didn't stop moving until you finished to cum.

You moaned loud, gasping and mumbling incoherent words such as "fuck me", "feels good". Your bit your lips so hard that you hurt yourself but you didn't care. The pleasure invading you was beyond any you've experienced before. Your pussy contracted around his dick and James groaned, feeling he could be closer too.

He gave you one last deep pound that made you scream loud one last time before falling on the desk. You took your breath the best you can as he kept moving slowly inside you, working on his own orgasm now. Your pussy were more sensitive and tight and this felt good on his dick.

"Where do you want me to cum baby?", he asked as placing his palm on your butt, keeping the track. You turned your head over and looked at him with a mischievous grin.

"Inside me please...cum inside me", you asked as opening your ass cheeks for him. James moaned at the view and helped you, placing his hands on yours.

"I'm gonna cum... inside your pretty pussy", he said as his head fell back, feeling the fire coming inside him. He felt it blowing inside his lower belly and he closed his eyes to abandon himself at this pleasure he was feeling. He heard your moans and whines while he pounded a few more times before he felt this was the time. He stopped and let it go.

"Fucking god...", he groaned loud, with a deep manly grunt as his fingers gripped your butt cheeks skin harder, spreading them open as he poured in his load inside you. You moaned in return, feeling his hot cum and smiling big. You were still having the delicious effects of your orgasm running through your veins.

"Fuck...", James groaned again as pulling off from you in a move, carefully to not hurt you and just stood there, looking at his cum going out of your pussy. You looked over and caught his lustful glance. You grinned and bite your lip, as feeling his load coming out your pussy to glide along your swollen lips. He slapped your butt one last time, enjoying it and so did you. You saw his chest raising slowly as he caught his breath.

"Oh my god...", you said in a gasp as taking back a normal position. Your legs and arms were completely sore but you stretched a little to ease it. James quickly pulled on his boxer and jeans while you moved back your skirt on your hips to cover you. You had no idea where your panties was...

"My personal assistant should be wrong more often", James suggested as taking your hand to pull you against his chest. You accepted the gesture even if you never expected sucked kindness and aftercare after this intense sex you had. You giggled as well, gently snapping his chest.

"I was right Mister Hetfield ! You were the one who was wrong. And you better accept it now that I proved it to you", you grinned, happy to finally have the last word on this story. But it was worth it...

AN : Thank you anon for this perfect ask ! <3 I love this kind of idea, even more with current James who fits perfectly for this! I hope you'll enjoy this, cause I really had fun and as you'll see, I couldn't stop writing lol!

#james hetfield #papa het #james hetfield x oc #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield smut #sweet lord never expected this to be so damn hot #current james #but something took control of me I guess #I hope you'll love it my beloved readers #this was long than expected but it was needed #request5 #5

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philtstone · 18 days

Note

jaime/claire -- holding the other's chin up

after literally one million years i finally finished this. this is not technically an om-shanti-om au but it's not not one, either

On Wednesday morning, Jamie and his Ghost had a row.

It is now Thursday afternoon, and Jamie is sitting in a hospital room, covered in muck from head to toe and wondering if this isn’t God’s great punishment for daring to leave his bloody flat.

He’s not sure when he started referring to the Ghost as his. Traditionally, if you’re the sort to believe in such things, ownership of ghosts runs through 1) ancestry or 2) a familial home. His aunt Jocasta, for example, had an ornery old Frenchman in the cellar of the MacKenzies’ old brick tower who had no relation to any of them, but wouldn’t let the damned house go generation after generation; Jocasta claims the bastard had been the mysterious lad who seduced that one grand-cousin of theirs into batting for the other side, which led to his divorcing his wife and moving to Cuba – and who is Jamie to have his doubts, really, when he’s got a ghost of his own.

The argument could be made that Jamie’s ghost has taken up residence in his flat — hence his turn of phrase. But he’s only renting after all, and more than that, he’s got a weird feeling she never snooped through the previous tenants’ bookshelves or sock drawers or anything either.

Now she won’t speak to him. It is four months to the day Jamie moved in, and, not two hours later, made her acquaintance while having an angry cry on the toilet. It’d been a rough go of it – between the accident and Jenny and Da —

Jamie had, at that time, resigned himself to the inevitability of his flunking out of graduate work before he’d ever started it. He’d barely been making it to his physio appointments when the Ghost appeared, let alone his classes; either he wouldn’t answer Jenny’s calls or she wouldn’t answer his; and in the twenty four hours he’d been in his new flat, the upstairs neighbours had already had audibly angry sex twice, which was two times too many for Jamie’s fragile mental state (not to mention his resounding lack of girlfriend). It was amidst all of this that The Ghost materialized.

The Ghost glows like a firefly, speaks like she stepped out of a World War Two-era black and white film and can’t seem to stay in one spot long enough for Jamie to see her face properly. She hasn't got a name, has given no indication of a family, and won’t tell him how and where she died. She’s miserable when she isn’t cracking laughs out of him by snooping through his old copy of Descartes and wondering aloud whether he actually reads the books he owns. She herself has no patience for reading (though she accidentally knocked a lamp over exclaiming at his battered copy of Lord of the Rings), endless patience for his sporadic monologues on morphological theory, and a complete fascination with his mobile phone. Also, the soapy mess that is Grey’s Anatomy, which was playing on the telly once.

“How old were ye,” Jamie asked one day, blowing on his instant noodles, which the Ghost had been eyeing with great skepticism for the latter half of the last fifteen minutes. He supposed she had every right to judge, if she were once a twentieth century housewife, but very little about her suggested an abundance of housewifely skills.

“What are your thoughts on knitting?” asked the Ghost, apropos of nothing.

“I asked first.”

“Did you.”

“When ye went, I mean. How old were ye?”

For a moment it was hard to look directly at her, because she was suddenly far less clearly formed than before. Then, quick as a wink, she was young and mostly corporeal again.

“Terribly,” said the Ghost. “I had white hair and everything.”

He mulled this over. “I can imagine it must’ve been quite somethin’ tae behold,” he says. “Sorcha.”

She smiled, all brilliance, all tenderness – very different from the sadness that lingered around her otherwise. Slowly she floated over, under his silent observation, and with hands that were not fully there and made of the stuff of nightlights cupped his face, lifting his chin. There in his sad little kitchen she glowed. Jamie kept blinking behind his glasses, like maybe if he did it hard enough, he could finally see her. Did she have a husband she missed? Jamie thought. Was it paining her something awful to be stuck in his sad little studio, with the two plants left living and the little grey cat no one in the building would properly claim ownership of?

Then, “Knitting,” she said. So Jamie confessed what little his Mam had taught him as a kid.

She knows all the scientific names of the bones and ligaments and tissues in his body that were damaged in the accident, and – perhaps due to her ghostly nature – can preternaturally guess when each thing is paining him. It upsets her to realize that her hands are not solid enough to sooth the hurts, and gladdens her when he assures her companionship is taking his mind off things a bit, before – incomprehensibly – she looks miserable again. She swears like a sailor and would probably fart in her sleep, were she not an incorporeal being with a transmutable form not in need of traditional rest.

She’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Nevermind he can’t really see her; Jamie just knows. Her hair is one large amorphous cloud of curls and she stares at him with such unspeakable sadness and makes a little humming noise when she’s at rest, like the singing of a hundred little stones. And there is a soft sort of buttery halo around her, which was enough to stun him into silence at their first meeting and has become oddly soothing now, enough that he gives her that silly little nickname, and he’s lonely, something feckin’ awful.

It’s not like he’s not self-aware. Problem is, now she might be gone forever, and it’s all his fault.

He keeps playing it over and over in his head. He might’ve been a little churlish, sure – he was tired from his early lecture, he’d kept his contacts in too long, the anniversary of Da’s passing was coming up on Friday and Jenny kept insisting that he ought to come for a visit …

That was it, wasn’t it? Jamie didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to go home, and the Ghost in all her sort of sad floaty care for him snapped in the way of a brittle little twig. She had an awful temper sometimes. He’d heard her yell at the kitchen wall once when she found she couldn’t float through it.

“James Fraser,” she said in her posh little accent, “are you going to continue wallowing in this miserable fucking flat or are you going to get up off your arse and face the bloody world like a man?”

Jamie found this somewhat infuriating. He had left his flat, thanks very much – he went to class now, and he was making real progress in physio, and, well, sure, he’d turned down the lads the last few times they invited him out for a match, but maybe he’d go this time – there was no proof he wouldn’t! So it wasn’t feckin’ fair of her, to talk down to him so. Jamie refused to be called a coward in his own flat.

By a ghost, no less.

“It’s no’ like you ever leave either,” he’d snapped in response, the discomfort of being seen rankling under his skin and sharpening his tongue into something rude.

“I’m dead,” said the Ghost.

“Aye,” muttered Jamie mutinously. “Well.”

“Don’t be an arse.”

“Ye’d be fair lonely wi’out me here tae keep ye company, would ye no’?”

“I’d – read your books,” she defended, unbelievably. “You – you just – don’t you want a happy and vibrant life?”

“What do you think?” he picked up his books, which were strewn over the living room couch, for something to do.

“Well, I don’t know! You keep hiding!”

“I’m no’ hiding!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Mary, Michael and – why do ye care so much, ye irritating apparition!”

“I care because I bloody well have to!”

Had he not been so caught up in his own irritation, he would have noted the odd strand of desperation in her voice.

“Fine,” said Jamie, waving about An Introduction To Language And Linguistics, Third Edition with finality. “Well. I’ve plenty of reasons to be a homebody, ken -- right ones, real ones. But if that’s the case, then yer whole existence is sad.”

“I beg your pardon,” said the Ghost.

“Aye,” Jamie was really working up to something, he’d thought, “Ye clearly havenae anywhere else to be, hangin’ about this dump.”

“Where else would I bloody well go?”

“I dinna ken, do I?” He couldn’t see her properly – the details of her face were always a mystery, but now she kept glowing in and out of focus as a general ill emotion build within her in the far corner of the room, “as ye tell me nothing about yerself and spend half the day actin’ like a time traveller and the other half the day lookin’ at me like ye’re about tae cry! I don’t think I’m the one wallowing here, Sorcha, and at least my presence is wanted by the feckin’ landlord! No one asked you tae show up!”

Perhaps he had gone too far; something about the Ghost’s presence blanched, like he’d given her a true fright. Then, after an awful moment of strangulated silence … she snapped back.

It devolved pretty quickly from there. In between the mutual screaming, Jamie got the feeling that she would have thrown things, could she have gotten her incorporeal hands on them properly enough to harness physics.

At some point, he had run out of steam, stormed out, and slammed the door behind himself, intent on finally taking up the offer of rugby with his friends.

Too bad about the torrential downpour. Too bad Rupert tackles like a giant lout, and Jamie slid five feet on the grass before slamming down directly on his shoulder and popping it out of socket.

He sighs, miserably. The hospital room is cold, mostly because he remains so thoroughly damp; his hair is plastered to his forehead and his jeans cling to his legs. So much for going out and partaking in the wide human world like a man properly recovering from a year’s worth of back to back traumas. Hmph. Jamie sniffs and wipes at his glasses (smudged) with his free and un-dislocated arm. He supposes he is recovering, sort of. It’s been easy to miss, given how simple the Ghost has made everything feel, but he feels exceptionally more human now than he did mere months ago. Jamie of September would never have dislocated his shoulder, because he was too busy being depressed.

He squirms in place. He ought to go home and check on the Ghost. What if all the yelling caused her to simply vanish? What if she’s hiding from him, indefinitely? He doesn’t think Edinburgh local business bureau has any reliable sort of ghost hunting service listed on its website. When Angus stopped by to pick up Jamie’s laptop so he could at least get his readings done for class tomorrow via hospital room, he responded to Jamie’s possibly-deranged Ghost-related line of questioning with an honest, “I’ve looked everywhere, mate. Cannae see hide nor hair of any ghostly lassie. D’ye think she’s gone tae her sister’s, perhaps?”

Even if this were a helpful question, Jamie hasn’t any idea whether the Ghost has any siblings at all.

Shite. He groans. It’s bad enough the shock’s worn off, and his shoulder is starting to properly hurt now. He hangs his head and leans his forehead against his uninjured wrist, squeezing his eyes shut against the mess everything’s become. He’s still facing the ground with his eyes shut when the faint sound of heeled footsteps swells louder and turns the corner, entering the room with a neat swish of hospital bed paper and curtain.

“Mr. James Fraser, is it?” says a light, distinctly British female voice, evidently scanning over whatever chart they’ve got set up for him, “that’s a nasty glenohumeral dislocation you’ve got there. You wouldn’t have happened to be playing rugby in the rain like an idiot, would you?”

Jamie cracks his eyes open specifically to roll them. He doesn’t get very far: the doctor standing in front of him is a tall young woman, with a mass of thick, dark curly hair tied out of her face, wry laughing eyes and an upturned little mouth that makes it very clear they are both supposed to be in on whatever joke she’s trying to make. She has a slender neck, a very competent set to her brows, and could be described as somewhat twiggy in figure save for her wonderfully curved arse, which Jamie gets an unexpected view of as she leans over the chair in the corner to close the bed’s curtain properly.

Jamie unsticks his throat with a bit of effort. “Hm?” he says, very eloquently.

“I asked, are you feeling dizzy at all? Nauseous?”

“No, I feel fine. ‘Tis just my arm, Sassenach.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Between the dislocated shoulder and the woman in front of him it could really be anything that’s causing his complete discombobulation – enough to put his foot in it, it seems – but something about the tone and inflection of her sharp little question has Jamie’s head spinning more than the rugby tackle.

“Er – Doctor Sassenach, I mean. Or rather – jest Doctor, but I didnae mean it as an offense – it was just an observation. Granted, we’re in Edinburgh, so it wouldn’t – but I’m from – that is, my family, I grew up far North, so …” he trails off; she is now very industriously poking and prodding at his collar bone. Oh, right – he does remember her saying she was about to do that. “I meant no offense,” he concludes.

“No offense taken,” says the Doctor. She sounds like she’s on the verge of laughing, this time at him.

“Ye’ve got a very gentle touch,” Jamie says, like a right idiot.

“Thank you,” says the Doctor. “Now, I’m going to reset your arm – there’s nothing else for it, it’ll hurt like hell for a minute. But you’ll be alright Mr. Fraser.”

They go through the motions together; Jamie follows her instructions, marvels at how strong and precise she is with skinny arms and small hands, and only blacks out a little when his shoulder pops back into place.

“God,” he gasps, blinking. In front of him, the Doctor is looking over him with concern.

“Everything alright? How are you feeling?”

“A little bit like someone’s punched my lights out, I willnae lie.” She laughs, but her hands remain on him, gentle first on his chest, then neck, pushing him upright.

“An expected feeling,” she says. “Hold still a moment, I’m going to properly check you for a concussion.”

And before Jamie can protest that he’s fine, she has taken his chin in both hands and gently tilted his face up towards her, so as to better shine the little flashlight into his eyes.

It’s as if a giant multi-metric tonne train has slammed into Jamie at twelve hundred kilometers an hour. The nice Sassenach doctor is glowing like a firefly and eyeing his ramen with skepticism and asking him about knitting and crying and yelling and touching him so gently because now her hands can actually touch him and he knows her, he swears he knows her deep deep deep in some inner place inside of him and quite possibly he is in love with her, and maybe has been, forever.

Jamie comes back to Earth. She is making an altogether undignified face as she moves his chin back and forth and examines his reaction time. Her tongue sticks out a little. Bits of frizz have popped out of her ponytail and are decorating her hairline like a halo.

“Hi,” Jamie says breathily, like a fool.

She stills, and looks over to meet his eye, and for a moment they stare at each other like that, nose to nose.

“Hello,” she says.

Then she pulls away and marks something on her notepad; the interaction is all but over. Off to her next patient, probably. “Alright. Well, no concussion, from what I can tell. I’ll ask you to self-monitor, though, and I’ll prescribe you some pain meds for the shoulder. I’d go home and get some rest if I were you,” she hesitates, and in a curious sort of way adds, “is everything alright, really?”

“Fine,” says Jamie. “Only, just now I felt like I’d seen a ghost.” He laughs, and it’s an overall strangled sound, which can and should be forgiven. “Ye ever felt anything like that, Sassenach?”

She is halfway to the door already, and he’s sure she will call him a nutter on the way out, even if in that wry way of hers. But she stops. Turns back. Smiles at him – not quite radiant, nor tender, but curious and familiar.

“You know … I think I do?”

“Aye?”

“It’s Claire, by the way.”

He blinks. “Your ghost?”

“No,” and now she really is laughing at him. “My name. Dr. Claire Beauchamp. But if you must call me an outlander, James Fraser whose family lived in the North, then I suppose I am alright with that, too.”

She leaves Jamie grinning more widely than he has in months. He’s got the odd feeling that whenever he gets home, his flat will be empty. Strangely, this is not an upsetting premonition. He’s more concerned with somehow getting Dr. Claire Beauchamp’s phone number – and somehow, he’s pretty sure the Ghost would approve.

#i havent written jamieclaire in literal years so i hope the characterizations are ok #my truest beloveds actually. i missed them so much #outlander #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #claire x jamie

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iliaclwrites · 2 years

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Lemme know if this is out of character lol I’m in love with your cheerleader/reader series 🫶🏽 but I was wondering if you would be willing to write something about them getting into an serious argument and are giving each other the silent treatment? Like maybe hellfire gets fed up with how they’re both acting since it’s affecting their campaigns (somehow) and so maybe they lock both of them in the room together to work it out and barricade the door so they cant get out? lol if you write this then thank you sm in advance and if not then I completely understand 😊🫶🏽

this got so long wtf lmao.

warnings: fighting, swearing, angsty-ish? not really lmao it's fluff

Mike screeched to a halt into Hellfire, almost slamming into the table. "Sorry I'm--" His voice died in his throat, staring at the scene. Dustin, Lucas, Jeff and Gareth were sitting on the floor, rolling dice into a mat dully and reading, while Eddie and you were huddled behind the screen, whispering furtively, as though no one else was there. "They're still fighting? How long've they been like this?"

"As in the rest of this week, or just today?" Lucas asked flatly, looking up at Mike. "They've been fighting since I got here."

"Since lunch," Gareth corrected.

"Since Monday," Dustin complained, dropping his head into his knees. "Do they ever take a break? How do they eat?"

Lucas leaned back on his palms, staring up at the ceiling. "He was fighting with her before and after cheer," he muttered. "I saw him waiting on the bleachers. They argued in sign language." He mimed something with his hands, and Dustin swallowed a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "Like, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, so I'm the unreasonable one?" you snapped, standing up to put your hands on your hips. "This is all my fault, then? Sure, Eddie. Real mature."

"You're the one playing the blame game," he countered, wagging a finger at her. "Don't go all 'woe is me,' you knew what you signed up for when you started dating me."

"Yeah!" you huffed. "Dating! Participle gerundive form! Active! As in, something I am doing!"

("Wait, lemme get this down," Dustin muttered. "We're doing participles in Latin. Did she say gerundive or ablative?")

"Oh, don't get all grammar on me, princess," Eddie hissed. "You know it's suicide for me if I go with you."

"Right!" Mike yelled, and your heads snapped up at him. "Okay. I'm sick of this. We're sick of this." He looked behind him at everyone else, who were nodding quickly. "Can you guys please sort this shit out so we can get on with living our lives?"

"Without yelling," Dustin added.

"Or threats?" Gareth said.

"Or passing notes between you two on the days you refuse to talk?" Lucas said.

"Dude, they made you do that?" Jeff asked, and Lucas sighed, nodding. "Real mature."

"You two," Mike continued, pointing at both of you. "Are not coming out of this room until you get this all sorted." He put his hands on his hips, seemingly possessed by the spirit of his older sister Nancy. "Either kiss and make up, or starve to death in Hellfire. Come on," he said to everyone else. "Barricade the door."

Eddie's mouth opened and closed, fishlike, as the kids stormed out of the room. Outside, Dustin and Lucas slammed themselves against the door, pressing their ears to it as Mike peered through the keyhole.

"I didn't realise it was getting that bad," you said weakly, moving to sit on the table. Eddie pursed his lips, not looking at you. "They probably think mommy and daddy are divorcing."

He sighed. "I don't understand why you care so much," he admitted quietly. "It's just a stupid dress up party. With stupid popular kids. Chrissy's gonna win prom queen, Jason's gonna win prom king, I'll get blamed for spiking the punch. It's boring highschool bullshit."

You glared at him. "It's my boring highschool bullshit," you snapped. "It's my prom. They're my friends. I want to go."

"Then go!" Eddie said, sweeping his hands. "I'm not stopping you. It's just stupid fucking promnight."

("God," Dustin muttered. "Eddie really sucks at this."

"I'm on his side," Mike murmured back. "He shouldn't have to go to prom if he doesn't want to."

"Wait," Gareth said, pressing his ear to the door. "They're fighting about prom? That's it? I thought he'd murdered someone, or something.")

"I want to go with my boyfriend," you hissed, pressing a finger into his chest. "You're my boyfriend, and I want my boyfriend to be at my 'stupid fucking prom night'!"

He barked a laugh. "What, with the corsage, and the matching tie, and pulling up in a rusty ol' van, and some girl crying in the bathroom, and your mom forcing us to take photos? No tha--" Eddie stopped, watching as you blushed under his gaze. "Holy shit. You actually want that, don't you?"

"Sue me!" you cried, not meeting his eyes. "Yes! I want you to pull up in your stupid van, and I want to get spun around with you to, I don't know, Duran Duran, and I want Chrissy to take a group photo with us on her new Polaroid, and I want you to step on my feet while we're dancing. Is that wrong? Is that stupid?"

Eddie swallowed thickly. "And we'll get drunk on the punch that I definitely didn't spike," he added softly. "And I'll get a matching corsage for you."

You smiled, pressing your hand to his cheek. "And we'll blow it all off halfway to smoke behind the bikeshed," you murmured, smiling up at him hopefully. "Come on, Eds. That doesn't sound so bad, does it?"

He sighed. "Princess, it'd be social suicide for you," he said, tucking a hank of your hair behind your ear. "Your friends hate me enough as it is. I don't wanna give them more reasons to push you away, alright? I've seen how they fight with you. About me."

You rolled your eyes. "They're stupid," you said drily. "I don't care. All I care about is my boyfriend watching me walk down the staircase of my house--"

"You live in a one-storey."

"And going, whoa, when he sees me in my prom dress for the first time. Maybe even a choked up, 'you look nice!', or something."

"You watch way too many John Hughes movies," he snorted, pressing a kiss to your hair. "Do I have to wear a suit?"

"Please."

He chewed on his lower lip. "...And you'll be in a dress?"

"The prettiest."

"And no one is gonna say anything that the top flyer is dancing with Eddie the Freak?"

You took one of his hands in your good one, pressing your mouth to the warm metal of his ring. "If they do, I won't hear it. And if they say anything, anything at all," she added darkly, "they'll see just how much training I put into my high kicks."

He smiled, pressing his face into your hair, before growing sombre. "I don't like the fact they treat you badly because of me."

You shrugged. "Then you're gonna have to get used to it, Munson. I'm sticking around." You pursed your lips at him, closing your eyes. "Make up kiss? Pwease?"

He laughed, and pressed his mouth to yours for the first time this week, groaning at the contact. Your good arm flew around his head, pulling him between your legs as you made up for lost time. You hissed as he nudged your bad wrist, and he stroked your cheek as an apology, refusing to pull away.

"Eddie!" you gasped, arching in surprise as he hauled your body closer to him, pressing you right up against his chest as he planted both hands either side of you, caging you in. "God, fuck, I missed this," you mumbled, hooking your legs around his waist as he dug his teeth into your neck, biting down. "Shit, god, fuck, please."

"Right!" Mike said, slamming the door open, face bright red. "Glad that's all sorted out then. Glad you two could. Uh. Kiss and make up."

You laughed weakly, resting your head against Eddie's chest, and flipped them off in tandem.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x cheerleader

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lover-of-mine · 14 days

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I had a theory I wanted to share but bear with me while I get to it.

Thinking about how now we know for sure Eddie & Marisol are actually having sex regularly got me thinking about how Eddie & Shannon's problem was never their sex life and wondering how/if that plays into Eddie being with Marisol? Because we know things never seemed to click with Ana both emotionally and physically but they are clicking physically with Marisol up until the whole nun thing after which Eddie seemed to be like "well I guess we'll break up now" but didn't seem too devastated by it? If anything he felt more like someone in the beginning of relationship not someone after months of dating & then moving in together. Which of course they decided to slow that because he realized they were going too fast but he said he really wants this time to work out but I'm not seeing a convincing reason why? They're friendly sure & having good sex I guess but what's their emotional connection? How close actually are they? I'm having a hard time understanding it. But this is only his like 3rd ever relationship right? He doesn't have a lot to compare it to & so maybe because he clicked in a way he didn't with Ana that maybe reminds him of what he had with Shannon? Except he & Shannon were best friends, they had a deep emotional connection in addition to a pretty good sex life. So I don't know but maybe Eddie is thinking they needed to move in because it would help them get closer and now maybe they need more time or something? We know he hates dating and feeling like he needs to perform so maybe it's like this is the first woman since Shannon he's able to/enjoys sleeping with so he figures that must mean something more? And I love the idea of he's never considered men being an option before and him now starting on that journey or realizing he did like men or at least Buck and he's now realizing Buck could be an option, like any of those theories and then realizing maybe what he's actually missing in his relationship with Marisol he already has with Buck and realizing he can also have that good sexual part of it (not that he has to but it does seem important to him) too. Because for all of the problems that he & Shannon had they did love and care about each other. I like to think if she'd lived they would have still gotten divorced & actually settled into a solid friendship with each other. But that's neither here nor there.

Is this a crazy stretch? Maybe. I'm just trying to make sense of it all. And I'm a Buddie girlie at heart always so it makes me feel more hopeful.

No, I'm actually with you here. I think Ana was just the first person he thought he could latch onto back then, and she was pretty and nice and Chris liked her, so he thought he could learn to love her eventually. I mean the show does imply that eddieana had sex. I know we like to joke they didn't, but the show very much does imply that with the "you really like to dress me up" "and the other thing" comment at the store before the first panic attack. But they weren't clicking emotionally and we didn't see them connect physically, so Eddie was just "sticking it out". Shannon, the sex worked and I did know how to talk, I don't think you can fight the way they did if you don't know each other. Shannon knew exactly how to disarm Eddie. How to say the thing that would get him questioning his actions. So even if we didn't get to see a lot of moments in their marriage where they were just happy, we know they had good sex and we know they knew how to talk. With Marisol he seems to be connecting with her physically, but he can't seem to connect with her emotionally, because we don't know anything about Marisol because the impression they are giving is that Eddie doesn't know a lot about her. He could have thought that the shock of moving in would bring them closer and then make the relationship better, there is an argument to be made there. And like, he says he really likes her but his brain went to the break up route and he didn't seem that devastated about it. It is canon information that this is Eddie's 3rd relationship, assumed 3rd person he slept with. So he doesn't have a lot of reference points. Which is why he keeps chasing Shannon. But I also think that enough pent up sexual energy can make people see more in a relationship than there actually is, good sex doesn't equal a good relationship (just look at Buck and Taylor and the way they had the chemistry but lacked everything else). But Shannon worked because they had both the friendship and the chemistry. If Shannon was still alive I think they would very much learn to be friends for Chris' sake and eventually settle back into the friendship and figure out who they are together while better equipped to handle what's being thrown at them. But he's lacking the communication aspect of a good relationship with Marisol. He doesn't have the friendship. He does have the friendship with Buck though. And I guess having sex with men in general never occurred to him (but as a demisexual Eddie believer I think sex is not something he worries about a lot unless it's actively creating problems in his life like in merry exmas and you don't know me, both episodes who contain the two sex scenes that lead to problems in the relationship, and it is an interesting way to create problems on Eddie's relationship by calling back to that conflict with Shannon that eventually led Eddie to let Shannon back in but literally led to him kicking Marisol out, also interesting that he sneaks Shannon out of the house and leaves Marisol alone in it) so he never thought about having sex with Buck specifically, but I don't see how Eddie could go "oh maybe I want to have sex with men?" and not instantly attach that to Buck too, because he's Buck. Considering the way I don't think Eddie knows how to qualify who Buck is to him, but does have Buck stored away as the person he trusts the most, I think that attraction to men would instantly attach to the safest person, and that's Buck.

But the question is how they are gonna handle his sexuality. I don't know if they are ever gonna explicitly label him, or Buck for they matter, on the show, but on a meta level Buck is being thought of as bisexual and they are adding to the pieces that are already there to make Buck a bisexual man. I have no idea where Eddie's sexuality is going. I can give you an argument for that man to be demisexual and/or demiromantic with the last episode. The fact that he didn't know that aspect of her killed his boner and his excitement with the relationship. So much so he had to go back to the getting to know her step. But is the show ballsy enough to have a character like Eddie be demisexual? Are they ballzy enough to make the womanizer bi and the single father ace? I don't know. Probably not. I think Eddie has a complicated relationship with sex. Is it the religious trauma? Is the demisexuality? Is it both? ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ I also think that that complicated relationship with sex makes it harder for him to want to date, because dating comes with expectations. He's clearly not romance or sex repulsed, but he does have trouble connecting on a deeper level with these women. He doesn't have trouble connecting with Buck. I think if you plant the attraction to men seed with him, his brain would fill the empty space with Buck. Kinda in the same way he keeps trying to match these women to Shannon. So he could get there. He can absolutely get there. I see this being a route to be taken. I don't know if the show is brave enough to do it though.

#i have many questions about how they're gonna handle eddie being queer if thats where its going #because i cant get a read on that man's sexuality keowksokossos #i mean demisexual works beautifully but at the same time i keep thinking #this show is not brave enough to actually do this #like no way they would give us a demi/bi relationship between two men who truly love each other #that's an unrealistic expectation kskapskslspskps #but i am curious #911 #911 spoilers #911 speculation #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌

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dulcewrites · 1 year

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do you have anymore moments from fmo djats after the divorce, particularly the early stages? I guess like any arguments, or transitioning into living apart with Daella, or any reader and alys moments that type of thing

This was highly inspired by when Carrie (satc) thinks it was appropriate to crash Natasha’s lunch to try and apologize lmao (aka try to soothe her own guilt)

Gives You Hell

“She called again,” you assistant grimaced as she hands you the note.

Without looking at it, you rip the note up. God, she is relentless. You wonder if Alys fucks your husband with the same vigor she is using to test your patience.

Ex-husband. You need to remember to remind yourself that sometimes.

Since the fashion and arts gala, you have received multiple calls from Alys. You don’t even know how she got your new landlind number or the one to your job but in hindsight, it can only be one person to give it to her. Just because Aemond has decided to put up with her now, doesn’t mean you have to.

Initially you wanted to talk to her, maybe even hear her out. You were willing to try and understand even after the divorce. But Aemond’s comment rings in your head.

If you’re doing this to upset Alys

Upset her? It shiver of rage runs up your spine if you think about it for too long. You don’t want anything from her now. Not an explanation, not even an apology. You are essentially forced to be civil with Aemond for Daella’s sake. If it was possible to extend the level of coldness to him that you are to her, you probably would.

You were just getting into the groove at House Lannister. Work was a perfect self soother for the other elements of your life basically falling apart. There, your worries about Daella, Aemond, and the shit show that is your life can fade away. No one cares if you’re married there, just if you’re good at your job. There’s something nice about being known as you and not someone’s wife.

Pushing away from your desk, you send a smile towards Regina and head towards the elevator. You and Tyland were going to meet each other for lunch at the restaurant near the office space.

Your chipper mood was cut short when you see a familiar flash of long, black hair. With a hitch of the breath, you immediately try to quicken your pace.

“Wait, wait please!”

You barely make it out the lobby of the building before you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“What, are you stalking me now,” you turn around. God, you hope no one from your job is seeing this.

Her shoulders slump, and she begins to fiddle with her rings nervously. You used to be so envious of how confident Alys is. You were sure is it was one of the reasons Aemond liked her… loved her?

“I just wanted to apologize,” you roll your eyes, and try to move past her but she blocks your view. “Please, just let me explain.”

You realize that she is not going to stop till you hear her out so you sigh resigned.

“You were so kind to me, and essentially changed my life,” she starts. It only reminds you of how went out of your way for her just to be betrayed. “I don’t do things like that. I don’t. It just happened one day and then before I knew you found out. I am sorry. I know that means nothing. Aemond told me it wouldn’t mean anything by now, but I am.”

The mention of Aemond makes you tilt your head in examination. When you don’t answer immediately, she nods softly to herself and tries to leave.

“Wait,” you reach out to stop her. “I’m sorry too.”

Her green eyes light up. Glimmering with hope.

“You are?”

You fake an enthusiastic smile. “Yes, I’m sorry that ever went to that drag bar that night.” Her smile begins to fade. “I am sorry that I even suggested putting you in the group. I am sorry that my ex husband, despite saying vows to me and having a child with me, decided to get involved with another woman. I am sorry that now my daughter asks me everyday why her father moved clothes out the home we shared. And I am sorry to find out you are stupid enough to think it was appropriate to not only call me, but show up at my place of work. Now not only have you ruined my marriage, but my day.”

Before Alys can reply, you move past her and begin walking towards the restaurant. You can feel her eyes burning into your back.

At least Aemond and you are on the same page about something. That apology means nothing to you.

#djats fmo au

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ellethespaceunicorn · 11 months

Text

Scrapbook: Chapter 2

Title: And You Kissed Me Like You Meant It

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Mike x Black!OFC (Dimples)

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: A collection of moments with Mike and Daisy (Dimples).

Chapter Summary: Mikey and Dimples’ first date.

Warnings: familial death including parents and aunt, emotionally unavailable parents, divorce due to cheating, minor angst, oral sex (f receiving), protected p-in-v sex, tooth-rotting fluff (whoopsie)

A/N: Mike mentions some family members. I have a family tree that explains it all. *pulls up PowerPoint presentation on my phone* Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by: Me

Spotify Playlist is here.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Mike and Dimples texted and spoke over the phone multiple times over the next few days. They agreed to go on their date on Saturday late morning so they wouldn’t have to worry about classes. He would choose the first activity and she would choose the second, keeping the details a secret from one another.

He arrives at her dorm in his Volkswagen Golf Mk6, parking across the street. Checking his hair for the millionth time, he gets out of the car to walk up to the front door. He’s dressed in a plain white tee that shows off his lean muscular frame with light-wash jeans and a pair of Vans. He originally wanted to just text Dimples to let her know he was outside but thought better of it.

He raises his hand to knock on the door, but it opens instead. Dimples answers the door in a light blue flowy dress with little embroidered flowers on it with a matching pale sweater and casual sneakers. She is holding his hoodie in one arm and a small purse is over her shoulder. He thinks she looks like a perfect little tomboy in her outfit and compliments it as he all but drags her out of the house.

He walks her over to the passenger side, opening the door for her and closing it as she settles in. She puts his hoodie in the backseat and goes to buckle herself in. Walking around the front of the car, he notices she is having trouble getting the seatbelt down. Getting in, he reaches over her to help.

“Here, lemme help, Dimples. This thing gets stuck now and again,” Pulling the seatbelt across her lap, he locks her in, “Other than that, I love this car so much.” Petting the dashboard, he can’t help but whisper sweet nothings to the car.

“I’m gonna ignore you being creepy with your car and ask how the hell you got this on a college kid’s budget?” She laughs, tilting her head to look at Mike.

“Well, actually, my Dad helped me get this as a high school graduation gift. I paid half and so did he. My Mom did not want me to have a car, but Dad won the argument I guess.” He rattles off nervously, starting the car to head to their destination.

“I take it you’re closer with your Dad, then?” Dimples probes, watching as the street goes by in the side-view mirror.

“Yeah, my Dad’s close with me and my Mom is close with my brother. It’s always been like that,” Mike runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head a bit, “My big brother is my Mom’s favorite. And that’s fine, he’s the firstborn so.” He drifts off and she puts a hand on his thigh and lightly squeezes.

“I always wondered if my parents would have had more kids after me. I would have loved siblings. But they passed away when I was about 2 or 3. I barely remember them.” She says matter of factly, hoping to distract Mike from his family drama.

“Wow. I’m so sorry, Dimples. So, who raised you?” He put a hand on hers where it rested on his thigh.

“I was raised by my Aunt Nicole until she passed away a bit after I graduated high school. She left me with an inheritance and I was able to get scholarships to come to school here with a full ride. She never had any kids and my mom was her only sibling so after she was gone, it was just me. But I met Jasmine when I moved here and she’s been like a sister to me, annoying but helpful, ya know?” She takes a deep breath after spilling her guts all over the place.

“I can understand the annoying part, that’s Derrick for sure. He laughs at all my jokes, though. Gotta keep him around for a least a little while longer. Plus, without our friends, we wouldn’t have met.” He laces his fingers through hers and kisses the back of her hand.

A comfortable silence settles in the car as Mike drives through town. He parks in front of a cute cafe, leaves the car, and opens the door for his date. He extends a hand for her to take as she exits the car and she smiles up at him before finally getting up on tiptoes to kiss him for the first time today. She is rewarded with a blush creeping up on his boyish face.

Mike clears his throat and laughs nervously, “So, uh. Here we are at my favorite spot in town, ‘Auntie Erika’s’. This place has the best brunch I’ve ever had. Everything is cooked with love,” He leads her into the shop and locks eyes with the owner, “And also the sweetest woman in the world is the chef.”

Just then, an older black woman with short-cropped hair comes around the counter and runs up to hug Mike. She leans back and grabs his jaw to place a kiss on it.

“Now, where have you been, Mikey? I have missed you!” She steps out of the hug and swats him with her hand towel.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in for a while, Auntie Erika, but I did bring someone with me this time,” He nods over to Dimples to get himself out of trouble.

“And she’s absolutely gorgeous so you better be treating her right,” Erika opens her arms for a hug and Dimples accepts it happily, “And she gives good hugs too. What is your name, baby?”

“My name is Daisy but Mikey calls me Dimples, Ma’am.”

“None of that Ma’am stuff, you call me Auntie Erika or just Auntie, you hear?”

“Loud and clear, Auntie.” She smiles and Erika pats her cheek warmly.

“Atta girl, now what are you two up to today?”

“It’s our first date.” Dimples looks up at Mike and they share a smile.

“First of many, I can already feel it,” Erika taps the side of her head, moving back behind the counter, “You two go get a table while I get a little treat for you both.”

“Auntie, you don’t have to–” Mike starts, but Erika cuts him off.

“Oh, would you just let me spoil you?” Erika puts a hand on her hip with a stern look in her eyes.

He laughs and throws up his hands, “Ok, Auntie, fine. You can spoil me all you want.”

“Good, now go and sit.” At Erika’s suggestion, they find a table on the open-air patio.

Erika brings out some hot cocoa and a large cinnamon bun for them to share and they thank her and dig into the sweet treat.

“So, tell me about your family, Mike. I’ve already met your Aunt. Who else is there?” She asks, laughing at Mike’s expense.

“Well, I’ll say I only really deal with my Dad’s side of the family. My Mom’s side is a bit all over the place. My Grandpa Gus is a player or was a bit of a player. He’s still alive but I think he’s finally settled down in his old age. Um, he used to be married to my Grandma Millie but they got divorced after she found him in bed with a lady named Louise when my Dad was about 5 or 6. Now, Grandma Millie is my Dad’s mom and Louise ended up pregnant with my Uncle Sy. So Dad and Sy are half-brothers. And Uncle Sy’s full name is James Syverson but everyone in the Army always called him by his last name so that just kinda stuck with him,” Mike pauses when their waitress comes to take their order and then continues, “Uncle Sy is married to Aunt Danette and they have a daughter, my cousin Cherie who’s about 8 or 9 now, I think. My Dad is Walter and my Mom is Eve, they had my big brother Evan four years before me. Evan is married to my sister-in-law Hope and they don’t plan on having any kids. I think that’s everyone for the most part.”

“Dude! Your family sounds amazing. Your Grandpa sounds fun, albeit kinda hoe-ish.”

“You don’t know the half of it. He flirts with my Aunt and Sister-in-law all the time. That’s the sailor in him, I guess. He actually lied about his age to get recruited to fight in World War II. He was 14 masquerading as a 20-year-old during the War. He’s in his 90s and looks like he’s in his mid-70s.”

“So your Grandpa was a military man, and so was your Uncle. What about your Dad? What does he do?”

“My Dad’s a Detective. Before working in Homicide, he was S.W.A.T. and that was terrifying. Not that it’s not scary now, but as a kid knowing your Dad is out there running into danger was just…a lot, ya know? Like, puberty was already tough enough without that stress,” He looks into his now empty cup of cocoa to distract himself and she puts her hand on his, “One night, I just freaked out and told him I didn’t want him to die and I cried and cried until he promised to move to a different division. He stayed with me all night, promising me that he would leave S.W.A.T. and come home every night to be with me. So yeah, he’s my hero and all that.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.” She smiles, squeezing his hand and pulling a soft smile from him.

Their waitress comes out with Mike’s omelet and Dimples’ short stack with fresh fruit and between bites, they discuss school and hobbies.

He tells her that he is studying social science with a specialization in criminology, hoping to one day be a criminal intelligence analyst. He always wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps but not be in the field as much. He also mentions how much he loves gaming, finding great playlists for every occasion, and he doesn’t pay attention to sports.

She is majoring in psychology with a focus on child and adolescent psychology. After becoming an orphan, she realized the need that a lot of children and young people have for acceptance. She wants to work with them on their self-esteem and empowerment. She also loves gaming, finding cute comfortable sneakers, and photography.

Finishing up their meal, they say goodbye to Auntie Erika and make their way back on the road.

Dimples gives Mike directions to their next activity and he is surprised when they come to a laser tag arena. He is so excited that he leans over and kisses her as he parks the car. He can’t wait to show off his skills and impress her.

He realizes she means business as they get set up. Stealth, speed, and focus are the name of the game and she plays to win. Winning four out of five games, she reigns as the champion of laser tag. He has never been more attracted to someone than he is right now. He bows down to her prowess and she feels heat rush to her cheeks as she tries to coax him up from the floor as he is causing a scene. Getting up, he suggests they go back to his dorm to watch a movie since Derrick will be out for the night. She agrees and they get back on the road after ending their game.

On the way back to Mike’s dorm, they hold hands and make comfortable small talk about what kinds of movies they liked. He tended to like action or horror movies. She also likes action movies but was not into horror movies unless she could watch them with someone else. He could already see them watching a horror movie and having her clinging to him when something scared her. The possibility had him squirming in his seat and he hoped that she did not notice.

When they arrived back in Mike’s room, he grabbed his laptop and searched for a movie. They sat at the head of his bed, Dimples in between his legs and leaning back into his chest with the laptop balancing on her legs. Mike took the opportunity of their seating to kiss her neck before pressing start on Mission: Impossible. They both have seen the series so if they were to barely pay attention to it, that would be just fine.

“You know, Ethan Hunt was my first movie crush as a kid,” Dimples blurts, squirming under Mike’s hands.

He leaves one more nibbling kiss on her neck, picking up the laptop and setting it on his nightstand. “One difference between me and Hunt though, Dimples,” He manhandles her into a seated position facing him on his lap, “I’m right here and can do this.” Pulling her sweater off of her shoulders, he moves his hands back to her face and brings her down for a kiss.

He swallows the sweet moans that escape her as she tangles one hand in his hair and the other in his shirt, unknowingly starting to grind her core into him. Feeling the heat come off of her, he brings one hand to her hip to guide her movements.

She can feel through his jeans that he is sizeable and that only spurs her to move the hand that fisted his shirt lower to ghost over his clothed crotch. The groan that comes from him leads her to press deeper into his erection.

He breaks the kiss to look into her eyes, her pupils blown wide. “Is this okay?” He asks, his hands sliding his hands under her dress to tug at the waistband of her panties. At her nod, he speaks again, “I kinda need to hear your words, Dimples.”

“Yes, it’s okay. Please undress me, Mikey.”

He smiles and tugs the underwear down and helps her out of her dress. Laying her down, he kisses her ankles to her inner thighs, he leans up to unhook her bra and toss it to the side. Paying special attention to her nipples, he teased them with flicks from his tongue, sucking on them and massaging her breasts.

Moving back from her, he takes off his shirt and jeans, followed by his boxers. With one look at the engorged dick between his legs, Dimples lets out a whimper that causes him to involuntarily twitch. He flattens to his belly and dives into her pussy. With a flat tongue, he licks from her opening to her sensitive nub. Adding in one finger, then two, he massages the bundle of nerves in her core. Following her moans and the movement of her hips against him, he is easily able to bring her to climax within minutes.

“Mikey, please. Need you inside me.” Her fingers find his curls and tug him up to kiss her, tasting herself on his lips.

Mike pulls away to open a drawer in his nightstand and comes away with a small foil packet. Opening it with his teeth, he guides the sheath over his dick. He reaches back into the drawer and pulls out lube before coating the condom in it. Moving to position himself at her opening, he looks up into her eyes.

“You ready, Dimples?” He couldn’t help but slide his erection through her folds, but not fully entering until she voices her anticipation.

“I’m ready, Mikey.” She opens her legs a bit wider and tangles her fingers back in his curls.

In one swift motion, he breaches her and is welcomed by inviting heat. They simultaneously hiss at their coupling. Letting her get used to his girth, he starts to move as she wiggles her hips to signal she needs friction. Pulling out slowly, he slams back in and is rewarded with her pulsing around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Dimples.” His words whispered in her ear as he begins a steady pace massaging her walls with his length.

Wrapping her legs around him, she pulls him in deeper. Reaching up to cup his face, she smiles up at him and he can barely hold back his yearning for her. He knows he’s a goner as he feels her tightening around him in a telltale sign of her next orgasm. He has no time to be proud of himself as when she throws her head back in ecstasy, his hips stutter and he follows right after her.

With him panting in the crook of her neck, she runs a hand down his arm and he lays a trail of kisses leading up to her mouth. When he pulls out, she hisses again at the feeling of emptiness. She watches him slide off the condom and get up to tie it off and throw it away, stopping to grab a towel to wipe her down before cleaning himself.

When he lays down again, she snuggles up on his chest and his arm wraps itself around her. They lay naked in his bed in companionable silence until he speaks up.

“So, that was intense,” His heart rate is still high and she chuckles and looks up at him.

“We came at the same time! I’d say that was intense as fuck, Mikey.” She says, nodding enthusiastically.

“I say we reward ourselves with a nap and then try and use higher brain function. Deal?” He pulls his comforter over their bodies and lets her get comfy then snuggles into her.

“Deal!” She rests upon his chest and lets his heartbeat lull her into slumber.

When they awake, get dressed and play a few rounds of Call of Duty: Zombies in which Dimples dominates yet again. Mike secretly loves that he has such a worthy player on his team, she surprises him in so many ways. Plus, she likes to sit in his lap while they play so it’s fun for everyone involved.

After Dimples’ fifth yawn in five minutes, he decides to walk her home so she can get some proper sleep. One look at the clock displaying 10:37 pm settles it. Even when she whines that she’s not tired. She’s trying to spend more time with him and though he loves it, he wants her to get some good rest. Especially after their full day of fun.

As they walk down the street, they start to plan their next date. Something between them is palpable. A spark ignites the flame and the two of them are smitten. They actually swing their arms back and forth as they make their way down the street and if anyone was watching, they would probably gag at the cuteness. Making it to the outside of her dorm, they laugh nervously not wanting the night to end.

“Can we sit outside for a sec?” Mike points over to the porch swing and moves over to it when she nods. He pulls out his phone and pulls up his Spotify and selects a song. Pulling Dimples closer to him, he rests his head on hers and swings them back and forth. They held hands and exchanged looks as the emo song plays on til the last verse.

‘Hands down, this is the best day I can

Ever remember, I'll always remember the sound

Of the stereo, the dim of the soft lights

The scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers

And the time on the clock when we realized it's so late

And this walk that we shared together

The streets were wet, and the gate was locked

So I jumped it and I let you in

And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist

And you kissed me like you meant it

And I knew that you meant it, that you meant it, that you meant it

And I knew that you meant it, that you meant it’

Dimples yawns again and chuckles in the middle of it. Mike takes that as a sign as he stops the next song from playing and gets up from the swing. Grabbing her hands, he pulls her to him and walks her back to the door. They exchange slow, sweet kisses that seem to stretch for days but really only a matter of minutes.

Breaking the kiss, Mike presses his lips to her forehead and smiles down at her. “Ok, if you don’t go inside, I’m just gonna bring you back to my dorm and have my way with you again.”

“I mean, that’s cool with me if you–”

“Yeah, nice try, Dimples.”

“Ok, ok. It was worth a shot. Alright then, goodnight Mikey.” She turns and unlocks the front door and steps inside.

“Goodnight, Dimples. I’ll see you soon, ok?”

“You better.” Her half-hearted threat dies as he leans in the doorway and places a chaste kiss on her lips. She wouldn’t admit she enjoys the effect he has on her yet, but soon it will be hard to deny.

They definitely have something building between them. Mike walks back to his dorm and Dimples walks up to her room. The first thing they do after getting settled is text each other. Smiles are plastered on their faces as they type out corny messages and try to ignore this white-hot infatuation that can only exist before something deeper takes its place.

Chapter 3

A/N: The song for this chapter is Hands Down by Dashboard Confessional. It’s an emo banger and you know it. This chapter was so fun to write. Omg, Mikey is my sweetheart and I plan on making him happy. Oh, and Auntie Erika is Erika Sloane from Mission: Impossible - Fallout. I love Angela Bassett and wanted her in this story so there. You'll see her later on 😁

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @geralts-yenn

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

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stories2you · 2 years

Text

Dearest (Part 1)

A/N: my first hypmic fic after months of contemplating if I should write about them. Have a Jakurai fic for some angsty fluffers.

Pairings: Jakurai x fem!reader

TW: Divorce, abuse (verbal, physical, direct and indirect), Depression, PTSD.

**DNI IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SUCH TOPICS.

~~~~~

It was late at night when Jakurai finished his work at the hospital. The man leaned back on his chair, sighing. He wondered about you, his dear wife and his dear daughter. The man's thoughts suddenly stopped at a recollection where you voiced out your concerns about his daughter.

His beloved little girl was from his first marriage. He caught his ex-wife having an affair with another man. They had tons of arguments, which brought the little girl being very distant to her parents and closer to Jakurai's friends. Particularly Hifumi and Doppo.

It took him about a month or two to finally finalise his decision to divorce the woman. Hifumi and Doppo questioned him why he had to take so long to decide. Jakurai explained to them that he had to think about his little girl. Her future, who she would stay with, and to protect her from the vile woman.

With the help of Hitoya, Jakurai managed to gain custody of his daughter. Much to the girl's relief, that doesn't mean she was haunted by her biological mother's cruelty towards her.

Her teacher, Rosho, had called Jakurai about her situation at school. Simply said, the doctor was shocked hearing that his daughter would often be picked up last, or never at all. Rosho understood Jakurai's work field, he was a very busy man. Handling different types of people and was always needed everywhere.

Rosho admitted to him that he had argued with his ex-wife about the girl's safety.

"She's nothing but a nuisance!" Was what she said to the teacher.

The girl heard the whole argument. It was then her grades dropped drastically. Jakurai really tried to be there for her. There were even times where he would ask Hifumi to pick her up and send her to his office.

At home, his ex would sweet talk with him that she'll be more responsible and fetch their daughter. Jakurai was hesitant, but decided to give her another chance.

He was wrong.

One day, he came home to his daughter sitting outside of the two storey house. It was winter. She had a thin jacket around her.

"Mai!" He called out to her.

The girl's blue eyes looked up to meet her father's. Tears finally fell, she couldn't move much from being in the position for more than five minutes. Jakurai took off his coat and wrapped her in it.

Holding Mai in his arms, he was greeted with his wife and another man. His blue eyes raged with anger.

"She's fifteen! She can take care of herself!!"

"That doesn't mean that you can torture her! She could've died!"

"Then let her die! I don't need a problematic child!"

"Get out of the house and never return, you imbecile!"

The final roar from Jakurai shocked the woman. The outsider was afraid to move, seeing how huge the older man was from himself. He timidly pulled the vile woman out of the house.

After the two left, Jakurai got onto his knees and hugged his daughter tightly. He apologised to her profusely. He warmed her up with his body heat before proceeding to the living room where the heater was at.

Back to the present time, Jakurai felt the pain in his heart, seeing his daughter almost freezing to death. After the fight at the court, he decided to take a month of leave to spend time with Mai.

A few months later, Rosho introduced you to Jakurai. You were Mai's homeroom teacher. You had never gotten the chance to meet the doctor during the conferences with parents. But boy you were surprised at how good looking the doctor is.

You were personally close with Mai, listening to her problems, being a comfort for her, naturally taking the role as her mother at school. She'd tell you so many things, including what her birth mother did to her.

You knew your place as an outsider, thus only able to spit venom at your now husband's ex whenever she would talk shit about Mai.

Peace was only temporary until Mai, now eighteen, unexpectedly met her birth mother. It was harsh. Her mother had another child with the man she cheated with.

Hatred and anger boiled in her heart and mind. She was unable to think straight, thus slapping her own mother in public.

"You hated me, you despised me, yet you had another child with that despicable man! How dare you abandon me! I hate you, you imbecile!!"

She continued cursing at the woman. Not bothering about the crying child. She looked at the toddler, giving them a disgusted look.

Before the woman could say anything, Mai ran away in tears.

She rushed into her room, not greeting you with hugs like she would usually do. You were concerned for her, but decided to give her some time to cool down.

About an hour, you decided to cook dinner, making her favorite curry rice. You made it with the amount of spice she loves. Even making her favorite hot chamomile tea with honey to soothe her heart.

"Mom..?" You heard her voice. You turned around and saw Mai, she had freshened up, looking a little bit better.

You smiled at her and ushered her to the kitchen, "come, sit down. I made your favorite for today. Would you be a darling and call your father if he'll be home tonight?"

Mai nodded and took out her phone to ring her father. After three rings, he answered, "hello? What's wrong, honey? Do you need anything?"

"Nothing, but will you be home soon?" She asked.

"I'll be home in five minutes, dear."

You saw Mai's smile. It brought you a little comfort by seeing her smile.

"Alright. Take care, dad."

You sat the big bowl of curry and the rice cooker on the tray beside the dining table. You took a seat in front of her, "Shall we wait for him?"

Mai nodded. You thought that it was okay to ask her about her day at school first, her mood can be discussed when her father got home.

"So, how was school? Was Rosho a good teacher today?" You giggled when you brought up your former colleague.

Mai happily told you about her day at school, and that fellow teachers had asked her about your well being. You had married Jakurai a year ago after Mai's pestering. She begged you to be her mother, and she begged Jakurai to allow her to be your mother.

Such a coincidence, Jakurai had observed how you treated his daughter. You gave her the love she yearned for from a mother ever since she was an elementary school student. With that, he proposed to get to know you better and introduced you to his family and friends just as you do to him as well.

The wedding went smoothly, and you decided to resign as a teacher to start on your sole business. The two of you talked happily, only noticing the doctor's presence when he cleared his throat.

Mai turned around and ran to give her father a tight hug, "welcome home, dad! I missed you."

Jakurai wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly, "I'm home. I missed you too, dear."

You greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and pulled him to sit at the dining table. Both you and Mai listened to Jakurai's days at work and him listening to both of your days.

Laughter and happiness was the current vibe, until Mai brought up about her encounter with her mother….

~~~~~

Part 2 coming soon.

#hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypmic scenarios #hypmic imagines #jakurai jinguji #jakurai x reader #jakurai imagines #jakurai scenarios #matenrou #hypmic hifumi #hypmic doppo #hypmic hitoya #hypmic rosho

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akikocho · 1 year

Text

I forgot I drew the Avery twins' mother Mabel for this occasion so I had to rush it (more like airbrush and blur shading this bs)

I'm making a small introduction for this wonderful woman who raised her children alone (because Peregrine is a piece of crap good thing she divorced him)

Warning: Has spoilers from the game

Meet 𝐌𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐞́𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰, the mother of 4 children and the youngest out of Francis (Sebastian and Audrey's son) and Rosa Sallow's 4 children and the only female sibling. She's Half-Scottish and Half-Filipino. Mabel got her mother's curse (in which Rosa's black hair turned silver and pale to make her less attractive) but only her supposed black hair turned silver than her skin being pale.

During her youth, she attended Hogwarts and got sorted into Slytherin along with one of her older brothers while the remaining two went to Hufflepuff house. She's known for her beauty, intelligence and kindness that makes some students smitten by her. She became the Slytherin's Head Girl and the Quidditch Team Seeker during her time. She met Bruce "Peregrine" Avery during her fourth year at Hogwarts and dated during their 5th year. The two got married the year before their first child Jacob was born (either during he year 1962 or before 4th July of 1963) and followed by 3 children years later.

Peregrine and Mabel's marriage were fine and even fought against Voldemort during the first wizarding war together. They also lived together somewhere in Scotland. Until Peregrine's obsession on Dai Ryusaki made him neglect their family and their marriage. This led to a heated argument and Mabel couldn't take his treatment which made her divorce her husband as the thought it was a good thing for her and their children. The divorce happened before she knew she was pregnant with their youngest child, Marigold. She moved to London and lived at a place that's filled with Muggles for years and would often visit her family in America along with her children. She works as a journalist in London.

Mabel loves her children equally and she's also very overprotective that she didn't allow her children to use magic until they were at the age of 11. She also takes note of her children showing hints of magic in them. After she knew that Jacob got expelled from Hogwarts, she was mad, disappointed and concerned but she chose to be calm and understand her son's reasons until Jacob went missing. Mabel was devastated and crying non-stop which her other children noticed and cried with her.

Years later, her twin children Maya and Malachi were about to attend Hogwarts as first years. Mabel knew that her children will do the same like their brother Jacob which makes her worry but she couldn't stop them as she is far away from her children. She promised her children to expect a letter from her once a week which both agreed.

(I was gonna add some things but mental block wins hahaha... Anyways Happy Mother's Day to all the great mothers out there and also to Mabel :DD)

#hphm oc #oc introduction #happy mother's day #mabel avery née sallow #maya bell avery #malachi brett avery #marigold beau avery #hphm peregrine #hphm oc lore #let's just say she's also the reason of Maya's boggart #Mabel had a “Dai Ryusaki or me and you family” moment and Peregrine chose Dai Ryusaki over her so she gotta divorce that mf #she died during the 2nd wizarding war lol #myes giving her the “dead anime mom” hairstyle because she's gonna die in the future

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lonely-soul-02 · 1 year

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When Liam and Noel were with Patsy and Meg - did you find it suspicious back then that they basically got married, became fathers and divorced at the same time? (Liam always being first and then Noel following suit shortly afterwards) And the fact that they never attended each other's weddings? It's like they couldn't stand to watch the other get married to someone else. And then years later when Liam got married to Nicole, Noel didn't attend their wedding either and not long after that Oasis/Liam and Noel break up. Makes you wonder if their arguments and their relationship breaking down were triggered by Liam marrying someone else again.

At the time, I rationalised the close timings of the weddings/break ups as a power struggle/territory dispute, so any suspicions were put to the back of my mind. Basically, if you don’t believe, or don’t want to believe gcest, that’s how you explain it - all of it. Asserting dominance. You’re my singer. You’re my songwriter. I own you. We’ll see about that, watch me get married. Two can play at that game. And of course there is an ongoing power struggle between them, I can’t imagine anyone would deny that. Edit: to be clear, I do think they loved their wives, but a lot was going on besides.

I do view the weddings/break ups differently now. Power struggle plays a part, but only up to a point. So much of their story, their behaviours and decisions, borders on the irrational. Their actions just don't make any sense unless you view them as being in love and unable to do anything about it, unable to speak about it (possibly), unable to resolve their jealousy and festering resentment, unable to move forward, on top of other pressures.

I think as time wore on, multiple people came between them - or they allowed people to come between them. They allowed themselves to be divided into Noel and his people and Liam and his people. It wasn't helped by those who were close to them generally avoiding interfering in their 'brotherly disputes' when what they desperately needed was someone to guide them/act as mediator. Combine that with the hangers-on, the sharks and people who didn’t necessarily have their best interests at heart having a negative impact. Liam has certainly alluded to this last bit.

Another massive blow to their relationship, possibly the final one, was Noel getting into bed with The Sun. Huge mistake. Noel got too clever for his own good. I can see why Noel thought it'd be a shrewd move, but I’m with Liam all the way on that one. We can see it still hurts Liam to this day. So although I'm sure they weren't thrilled about the marriages and were jealous, I do think there were other factors involved in the deterioration of their relationship.

#ask #gcest #Liam gallgaher #noel gallager #gallagher relationship

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naturalborndragons · 1 year

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New Dragon’s World Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Heading Out "Gah! What's your problem, Sarah?!" Titus exclaimed. "My problem?! What's yours?!" "What are you talking about?" Titus asked, not understanding why she was so mad. "I mean why are you being so mean to Rick?" Sarah explained. "Well…I…" Titus stuttered. "I…I just don't trust him. That's all." Sarah sighed angrily. Just as she was about to speak, she noticed everyone looking at them. "We'll talk about this later. But I will tell you this: You be nice to Rick, Titus? Got it?! He helped me through the most painful part of my life." Sarah whispered. Sarah opened the door to Lucas' car and got in, riding shotgun. Everyone walked up to Titus, confused about what just happened. "Everything OK?" Ben asked. "Let's just go…" Titus said equally as angry as his wife. Titus and Lucas started their cars back up and drove away from the park, continuing their journey. Sarah rode with Lucas this time, as did Rick. Sean and Tim both offered to ride with Titus, his parents and Drake so as to make room for Sarah and Rick. Titus kept a stern eye on the road, his anger swelling. "Dad, what's wrong with Mom?" Drake asked worriedly. Titus let out a long, bothered sigh. "Drake, your mom and I just had a little argument. Things will be okay. Alright, buddy?" Titus smiled. "You and mom aren't gonna get divorced?" Drake asked worriedly. "Of course not! I love your mom…and I love you, son." Drake nodded, smiling, reassuring himself things would be fine between his parents. Just then, he heard noises in the back of the car. He swore that he had heard something moving around amongst the luggage. He leaned over the seat, noticing that it was Crystal who was hiding in the back! "Crystal!!" Drake exclaimed. Crystal shushed Drake so as not to be found out. She rearranged all of the luggage so that it covered her entire body but left just enough room for her to breathe. "What's wrong, Drake?" Sean asked.

Everyone except for Titus looked at Drake. "Oh! I just remembered that Crystal wanted me to call her when we get to the next town!" Drake said, lying. "If you want Drake, I could give you my cell phone and you could call her now." Titus offered to his son. Drake shook his head and thanked his dad for the offer. He figured that once they got into the next town, he would ask Crystal everything. In the meantime, with little to nothing to do, Drake shut his eyes and slowly drifted off into sleep, as did Sean and Tim. For that time, the three friends slept together peacefully… Titus looked back at the three sleeping together and smiled as did his parents. For the next couple hours, no words were spoken…so not to wake them up. Several hours later, Drake awoke. He stretched and yawned as he looked outside. The scenery was different. Drake noticed that they had made it to the countryside. Everywhere he looked, it was nothing but fields. Fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. Drake looked on in awe, a smile on his face. He had never been to the country before. Even though there wasn't much to look at, Drake's childish wonder and excitement to see new places was enough to keep him interested. Shortly after, Sean and Tim woke up too. "Good morning, guys." Titus said. "Morning? It's almost dark." Sean corrected Titus, rubbing his weary eyes. Tim yawned and, likewise, rubbed the crust from his eyes. "Where are we, Uncle Titus?" He asked. "We're in the country, boys." He responded. The brothers looked out the window to catch a glimpse of the scenery. They watched as they passed by a barn. They looked at the passing rows of corn and the windmill that hung high into the air. "I wonder if there's a town around here." Titus' mom asked. "Yeah…I don't even see a town coming up." Titus added. Just then, Titus began browsing through his CDs and came across a burned CD titled "Sunday's Best". "Hey, what do you guys say we listen to some music for the time being?" Titus asked. "Sweet! What're we gonna listen to, dad?" Drake asked, interested. Titus handed the disc to his son who read it out loud to himself. "Sunday's Best?" Drake asked. "Yep. I listened to these guys all the time back in high school. Sadly they were never too popular. Real shame too because they had some really awesome songs." Titus said. Drake gave the CD back to his father who put it into the disc drive. The first song that played was "The Californian". While the song played, Titus and Drake tapped their fingers to the beat of the song. After the song was over, the next song, "White Picket Fences" was just starting. As the song continued, Titus and the others came up to a small town. "Langesh". It was a small, bustling place with a population of about 15,000. The buildings and houses were all very old and small, the tallest of the buildings being the town hall which rested right in the middle of town. In the back of Titus' car, Tim started to squirm around a little. He whined and moaned as he put his hands near his midsection. "Hey, Tim, are you alright?" Drake asked. "You feeling sick, man?" Sean asked his brother with concern. "No." Tim whined. "I need to go potty!" As Tim's whines grew louder, Titus looked around for somewhere to stop. A restaurant, a gas station, anywhere. He came across a gas station and pulled in. Everyone got out of the car as Sean took his brother by the hand and walked over to their father's car, just as everyone else was getting out. "Hey, what's wrong, Tim?" Lucas kneeled down to his youngest son's level. "I need to use the bathroom!" Tim whined loudly. Lucas ran into the bathroom, holding Tim's hand as Sean went with them. In the meantime, Titus figured this would be a good time to get some gas and directions to the next town. Sarah and Rick got out of Lucas' car as they stretched. Rick went ahead as Sarah looked over to Titus, a look of anger on her face. Titus didn't understand how she could still be so angry at him. He walked over to Sarah, concerned and worried. "Can I talk to you?" Titus asked meekly. "If it's about how you don't trust Rick, I don't want to hear it." Sarah said. "Look, Sarah - -" "No, you look, Titus! I know Rick a lot better than you. I don't care if you don't like him, but dammit, you treat him like you would treat Lucas or Ben!" Sarah exclaimed. Titus just growled. A small fire building up in his throat. He tried to calm himself. He took a deep breath as a miniscule flame came out with it. "Alright. You know why I don't trust him? I just find it a little strange that you haven't seen him for twenty-odd years and all of a sudden, out of the blue he reappears in your life? That seems pretty suspicious to me." Titus explained. "Well…" Sarah was about to say. "Not only that, but what if you fall in love with him again?" Titus asked with worry. "Well I- - Wait, what?" Sarah asked, confused at what her husband meant. "What if you suddenly decide that you love Rick so much and would want to go back to him?" Sarah had a really confused look on her face. She couldn't believe what she just heard Titus say. She was surprised at how immature her husband sounded. "You're kidding, right?" Sarah asked, truly hoping Titus was kidding. "Titus, I DO love Rick! But I love him as an older brother. I never loved him romantically. Neither of us had that much of an attraction to one another! Go ask him! He'll say the same thing!" "And besides!" Sarah continued. "If I was in love with Rick, do you think I would have married you and had your child?!" At that moment, Titus started to feel like an idiot. While he realized his hatred for Rick was misplaced, he still wasn't sure about how he really felt about him. Sarah went ahead and joined up with Rick, Ben, Jessie, Kyle and Jackie. In the meantime, Titus filled his car up. As Titus filled his car with gas, Drake sat on the edge of the seat, the car door open as he looked around and waited for his dad to go inside the station so he and Crystal could talk. "Hey, Drake!" Crystal whispered. "Shhh! My dad's still out there!" Drake whispered back. "Say something, Drake?" Titus called out to his son. "No, Dad!" Drake answered. Titus put the pump back in its holder and went to join the others in the station. At that moment, Drake ran over to the back of the car and opened the trunk, helping Crystal out. She wore a light blue shirt with a dark green overall dress over it. Crystal stretched her sore arms and legs, at the same time flexing them to get the feeling of stiffness out. As soon as her limbs were feeling better, she hugged Drake tightly, happy to be there with her two best friends. Reluctant, Drake returned the hug, unsure if he was happy about Crystal being with him or upset. For a brief moment, the two just stared at each other without saying a word. Both Crystal and Drake had no idea of what to say to one another. "Hi, Drake." Crystal said to kick off the conversation. "Uhh…hi…" Drake said, rubbing the back of his head. "Hey…Crystal, what are you doing here?" Drake asked. "I just wanted to be with you and Sean!" Crystal exclaimed. Crystal continued. "And I wanted to tell you something." Lucas and his sons walked out of the bathroom when Sean saw Drake talking with Crystal. He couldn't believe what he was seeing! How was it that Crystal was here with them? He ran ahead of his dad and younger brother as Lucas and Tim went to join with Titus and the other adults. "Drake, when you told me you loved me, I - -" "Hey, guys!" Sean interrupted as he ran over to Crystal and Drake. Sean looked at Crystal, not believing it was really her. He simply stared right at her, as if she had something on her face. Crystal grew increasingly uncomfortable with Sean staring at her. To make sure it was really Crystal he was looking at, Sean pinched her cheeks to be sure. Crystal's feeling of uncomfort turned to annoyance as Sean continued pinching her cheeks. "Ow, Sean! Stop!" Crystal commanded. "Drake, this can't be Crystal! How'd she get here if it is?" Sean asked, still not convinced. "I AM Crystal, you idiot! Will you please stop pinching my face already?!" Crystal exclaimed angrily. "Oh, sorry!" Sean said, embarrassed. Crystal rubbed her cheeks, which had turned a slight red from Sean pinching them. "So how did you get here?" Sean asked. "I hid in the back of Drake's dad' s car like an hour before you guys left. I told my parents you were going on vacation and that your dad said I could come too, Drake." Crystal explained. "And they believed you?!" Drake and Sean said at the same time in amazement. Crystal nodded proudly. "You know, I'm really glad we're all together." Crystal said, smiling with glee. Sean nodded. "Me, too!" Drake nodded likewise. "Me, three!" The three friends gathered into a circle. Drake placed his hand in the center. Followed by Crystal placing hers on top of Drake's. And finally, Sean placing his hand on top of Crystal's. "No matter what! We'll always be together!" Drake exclaimed. The three cheered in agreement. Meanwhile in the gas station, Titus and his friends browsed the store's selection for some snacks. Tim browsed the store's selection of candy, picking out three of each of his favorite pieces of candy. When Lucas saw how much candy his son has picked out, he nearly had a heart attack as he saw Tim carrying the candy bars on his shirt like a tray. He told Tim he could only get two candy bars or he'd get a stomachache. Reluctant, Tim put most of the candy back until he had only two candy bars left. Lucas went over to Sarah, who he asked to keep an eye on Tim while he went to go fill up his car. As Drake, Sean, and Crystal talked with one another, they saw Lucas leaving the store and making his way towards them. Crystal ran behind Titus' car as Drake and Sean stood by the cars and talked together as of nothing was out of the ordinary. "Hi, Uncle Lucas!" Drake greeted. "Hello, Drake. What are you two doing out here?" Lucas asked. "We were just talking, dad." Sean smiled, beads of sweat trickling down his face. Lucas began to pump gas in his car as Drake and Sean peered over to the left of Titus' car to see Crystal hiding. Then they peered back over to Lucas, still fixated on his car. They moved in front of Crystal, hoping Lucas wouldn't see her. Sean continued to watch his father filling up the car. A short time after Lucas was finished, Crystal was about to get back in the car, when they saw Lucas walking over to them. Drake and Sean's hearts began to race. They tried to help get Crystal back into the car as quickly as they could but it was too late. "Hey, boys, I'm going back in for a little bi- -" At that moment, Lucas caught sight of Crystal's leg just as she was climbing in. "Hey, who's…?" Inside the gas station, Titus was paying for the gas. "That'll be $40.00." The employee said. Titus reached for his wallet and pulled out two twenties. "Say, could you tell me how far it is from the next town?" Titus asked. "Well the closest town is about 25 miles from here. But if I were you, I wouldn't even go." The man said. "Why not?" "You haven't heard what happened up there?" "No. Not a thing. Is there something we are supposed to know?" Titus asked. "Well this is just what I have heard but last night, the entire population…disappeared." The man explained. "Disappeared?" Titus asked. "Yep. They say not one person remains. I was thinking on going up there myself. See an old friend of mine. But I guess that won't be happening anytime soon…" Titus didn't even have to guess who was behind the town's disappearance. He knew right away who was behind it all. So…Titus thought…the dragons were finally setting their plans into motion. Titus knew they had little time left…but he had no idea just how little. The information he had received made Titus frantic with worry. At this very moment, the dragons could be collecting humans. "Sir, you said it's 25 miles from here? The town I mean?" Titus asked. "Yes, sir. Wait! You're not really gonna go up there, are you? What if whatever got the town gets you and your friends?!" "Well then we'll just have to fight it." Titus said with utmost confidence. "How?!" The man asked. Titus just smiled, not saying anything. Everyone got some snacks and beverages for the next leg of the ride to Death Valley. As soon as they paid and got ready to head out, they were stopped by the gas station employee. "Hang on a second!" He called out. "If you're dead set on going to that town, I'd suggest finding a place here to crash for the night. You don't know just what might be out there at a time like this and with the neighboring town's population up and missing, it never hurts to be safe, you know?" Titus nodded in agreement. And just as everyone was paying for their food, Lucas came running in. "Luke, you alright?" Titus asked. "Titus, you need to come out here for a sec." Lucas said. "What's going on? Is this town being attacked too?!" Titus asked once more. "No, it's not that bad but just come on!" Titus wondered what it was that had Lucas so riled up. While everyone else paid for their food and drinks, Titus and Lucas ran out to see what was the matter.

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