#I said I’d post this today because I was too tired last night

[closedrop]

Sans cake Sanake if you will

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : OT8 x F!Reader TW : all fluff! ; some members are kind of suggestive, but it’s mainly fluffy ; Word Count : 3.4k combined A/N : I feel bad for breaking all of your hearts with the last headcanon post, so I’ve come with a fluffy apology! Request : Nope! I wrote it because I love you all!

Bangchan

“Good morning, love bug!” Chan called, somehow still managing to keep quiet although you heard him from the bathroom as he stood in the middle of the bedroom. You gave him a lopsided grin, your hair wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush hanging out of the corner of your mouth. 

“Mornin’ bubs.” You managed to say, toothpaste dripping down to your chin and you quickly leaned over the sink before it could fall onto your clothes or onto the floor. 

Chan snickered as he made his way into the bathroom to stand behind you, wearing only his boxers, his bare chest pressed against your back, his curly hair a tousled mess from just waking up and the bags under his eyes visible from late nights in the studio. “Is it bad that I got slightly turned on from the sight of that dripping from your lips? Hmm… I’ve got something better for-“ 

You whipped around, pressing your finger to his lips. “Nothing like that until you get on a better work schedule. You’re already exhausted, I’m not adding to that.” He pouted against your finger and you rolled your eyes before pushing yourself onto your toes to kiss him. “Plus, I can’t afford to be horny during work.” 

His hands grabbed your hips when you went to walk away, hoisting you up onto the counter and slipping between your legs. “I’ll call off work if you do, lovebug. We can both get what we want and then we’ll spend the rest of the day together.” 

You hummed softly, your arms draping over his shoulders and your head tilted to the side. “I’ve got an important meeting today…” He pouted once again and you quickly continued. “But, if you’re home within an hour after me… we can both have some fun, and then I’ll call off tomorrow and we can continue in the morning.” 

You were quickly pulled off the counter, and a swift smack on your ass had you jumping forward out of the bathroom. “Go, go to work! I gotta get ready. I’m gonna come home so fast today.” He said, excitement evident in his tone and you couldn’t help but laugh hysterically. 

“You’ll be coming fast too…” You teased, and his mouth fell open in shock.

 “I am not a one pump chump! Give me credit! I could at least last three pumps!”

Lee Minho 

“Thought you’d start the movie without me…” You muttered as you walked through the front door, dropping your purse to the floor and kicking your shoes off before trudging over to the couch and falling back onto it, tilting until your head landed against his lap. “Sorry I took so long. They kept me over to do paperwork.” 

Minho tsked his tongue, his fingers gently caressing your cheeks and moving down to your chin before moving back up to your nose and lightly tapping it, earning himself a tired smile from you. “It’s not movie night without you, darling.” He murmured, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. “They make you work too hard. Just quit. You know I’d take care of you, and I’d be happy to come home and see you.” 

“Mm, as wonderful as that sounds… I don’t want to be labeled a gold digger.” You combatted the wonderful idea that was continually festering in his brain. “I like being able to pay my own bills, I don’t want to be dependent.” 

His bottom lip jutted out and you playfully swiped your finger down across it, and he tried to hold back his laughter, but the sharp exhale that shot through his nose had him failing in his attempt. “But I want you to depend on me. What are you gonna do when we’re married? Huh? Still gonna work? Not on my watch! Mmn mmn, you’re gonna be comfy here at the house, sleeping in, living like the queen that you are. Mm hmm.” 

You blinked a few times before narrowing your eyes at him. “Are you okay? Is your head okay?” 

“Oh yeah.” He said quite abruptly, a wide smile spreading across his face before his head fell against the back cushion. “Just thinking about marrying you now. Let’s do that soon, okay?”

Seo Changbin 

“Count me off, bunny. Gonna do 20 reps!” Changbin said, letting out a little grunt as he laid back onto the bench, sliding up underneath the bar and rubbing his hands together before lowering it to his chest. 

“1!” 

“You look so hot in your yoga pants!” He said loudly as he brought the bar down and back up. The sudden proclamation had you gasping and looking around to see if anyone had heard him. 

“Bin!” You hissed, feeling your body burn up, both embarrassed and flustered by his words. 

“You stopped counting! You gotta keep counting!” He grunted loudly, still holding the bar up, his arms shaking as they strained to keep the weights in the air. 

“2!” 

“I love you so much!” He announced again, repeating the same motions as before. At least this one wasn’t as preposterous and embarrassing as the first. Maybe he just needed to let you know that he thought that… Although you wished he would have saved the thought for somewhere more private. 

You continued counting, and after a while, the words turned into grunts and heavy breaths, his face turning red, and you started to get worried, stepping forward to try to stop him. 

“I’m fine! Keep counting!” He practically shouted, his voice cracking as he lifted the bar again and you sighed loudly, backing to the spot where you had been before. 

“18!” You said, quieter now as you were more focused on the way his entire body seemed to be shaking. 

“Gonna get so strong so I can pin you against the wall when we get back home! I’m gonna f-“ You squealed loudly, rushing over to him and placing your hand over his mouth. It was almost like he was expecting it, the bar already set back on the hook and his arm snaking around your waist to pull you down on top of him. “What’s the matter, baby?” 

“You’re so embarrassing sometimes…” You groaned, lowering your head. “And you’ve got… Binnie you’ve got a boner now.” He smirked playfully, pushing your ass down on the growing bulge in his sweatpants, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Bin~~” You whined, but you couldn’t deny how attractive he looked, covered in sweat, his veins bulging out against his muscles. 

“I’m not gonna last. Let’s go home… Gonna put these muscles to good use!” 

Hwang Hyunjin 

“Sweetie?” Hyunjins voice broke through the barrier between the world of dreams and the real world, causing you to stir before pulling the blankets up higher and rolling over with a tired sigh. “Can I paint you? You look so beautiful and the lighting is perfect.” 

He kneeled on the edge of the bed and you rolled back over, staring straight up at him, groggy and disoriented as your eyes adjusted to the bright sun that shone through the windows. “I look so bad, Hyunnie…” You mumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow. “How about we just lay back down and go to sleep.” 

Hyunjin whined dramatically, throwing himself over your body as he nuzzled against your neck. “But I’m not tired now! I want to paint!” He whined against your skin, and even if you wanted to go back to bed, you knew he wouldn’t let you, not until he got to paint you. It’s not like either of you had anything to do today, you simply wanted to sleep in. 

“Can I brush my hair at least?” You grumbled, and he quickly jumped up. When you rolled over though, you could see he was shaking his head as he took a few uncoordinated steps around the room, trying to find the perfect spot with the perfect view to paint you from. “Hyunjin…” 

“No brushing hair, you look so beautiful right now. You’re so… you, and I love you because you’re you, especially when you’re the you right now. I love you.” To your tired mind, his words didn’t make any sense, but you held onto those three words that he repeated twice, pushing yourself up and wiping the sleep from your eyes. He let out a gasp, waddling over to the bed and cupping your cheeks before pressing a wet kiss to your lips. “How are you so gorgeous?! And your morning breath… it isn’t even that bad!” 

“Hyunjin!” You whined just as loud as him, causing him to chuckle as you fell back onto the bed, your hair sprawling out on the pillow around you and your arms strewn in both directions. 

“Stay like that, sweetie! It’s the perfect pose! You’re perfect!”

Han Jisung

“Babydoll…” Ji whispered over the phone. He had called you over five times, and after the sixth non stop vibration in your pocket, you had asked your manager if you could step out to take the call. 

“What’s the matter, baby? What happened?” Of course you were panicking, who wouldn’t be when their fiance had called them that many times in a row? There had to be something wrong for him to call that many times when he knew you were at work. 

A sheepish sigh and then a clearing of his throat had you calming down just enough to become slightly annoyed now. “I miss you so much, babydoll…” His voice was still low, and then there was silence before a small whimper and the rustling of fabric. “Can I come see you? Please?” 

You looked around, making sure none of your coworkers were around before answering. “Han Jisung.” He gasped at the use of his government name, and damn him for being so cute, you immediately softened up. “Do not tell me that you called me six times in a row, made me step away from my job, and made me panic… just because you’re horny.”

The sound of his gulping was loud in comparison to his constant whispers. “What would you do if I said yes?” He asked so innocently, you’d think he was simply asking to come up to work to see you. But no, he wanted more than that, and maybe it was partially your fault for feeding his imagination one night, telling him how fun it would be to have a quickie in the bathroom at your work. You didn’t think he’d actually want to though. “I’ll go fast, I’ll go so fast… Baby pleaaase! My hand isn’t working! I need you~~.” 

You groaned loudly, but you couldn’t deny that you were getting turned on by the thought of him taking you in such a public place. You never knew you were into exhibitionism until now, but the thought was so exciting. You also couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. It was just so hard. “Fine. I go on break in 10 minutes. You better be here.” 

“I already started walking.” He admitted and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as a smile formed on your face. “I’ll be there in 5 minutes! Thank you so much, baby! I love you!” He exclaimed, and sure, he might be a little quirky, but he was so loving, and so adorable, and best of all, he was yours. 

Lee Felix 

“Soup?” He questioned, walking into your shared bedroom with a large wooden tray, a bowl with steam billowing from the top. Even though your nose was clogged, you could still smell the broth with just the right amount of spices in it to help clear you up. “How are you feeling now, angel?” 

“Still bad…” You said weakly, trying to prop yourself up on your pillows enough for Felix to set the tray down on your lap. “You’re sure you won’t get in trouble for staying here? I don’t want the guys to get mad and I don’t want you to get sick.” Your voice was raspy from your throat being so sore, but he simply smiled, setting the tray down and carefully sitting on the edge of the bed before pressing the back of his hand to your forehead to check your temperature. 

“Well if I get sick, you’ll have to call off to take care of me, so I think it’s a win win. We get to spend more time together.” He was so optimistic, every word that came out of his mouth never failed to make your heart swell. “When you’re done eating, we can cuddle and watch a movie together. Make sure to get really close to me too, and if you want to give me kisses, I won’t stop you.” 

You snorted softly, stirring the soup and watching the little spice specks swirl around the top. “It’s like you’re trying to get sick or something…” You mused, scooping a bit of the broth up and slurping it from the spoon. “Maybe we can share the soup.” 

“What a wonderful idea!” He chimed, grabbing the spoon from your hand and bringing it up to his lips, placing the whole thing in his mouth and cleaning it off. You watched with wide eyes and an open mouth, but your reaction only had him chuckling. “I don’t get to spend enough time with you, angel. If I have to catch what seems to be the world's worst cold just to do that, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.” 

“You’re crazy…” You murmured, snatching the spoon back and getting more for yourself. It was the first time your throat felt slightly better in days, and you didn’t know if it was because the soup was actually helping or if it was just so spicy it had numbed the back of it. “You’re gonna feel like shit, and what if you get sick before I get better, hmm?” 

“Then we’ll both be super whiny and bed ridden, and Chan hyung will have to take care of us.” Felix stated proudly, and while you loved Chan like an older brother, you saw how he was with the guys, how much he cared, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle that much care from anyone but Felix. “Or we can just cuddle and hope that cold medicine can get us through. As long as I get to spend my days with you, I’ll be happy.” 

Kim Seungmin

The shower was running, relaxing every muscle in your body that felt so tense and sore after work, you could almost fall asleep just standing under the stream. The steam that filled the bathroom opened your lungs and surrounded your body, it was the most relaxed you had been in a while after countless hours of working overtime and extra days. 

“Gotta go to the bathroom.” Seungmins voice broke you out of your trance, and while the two of you had been together for years, you had seen each other completely naked, he had even held your hair back for you when you had come down with a really bad stomach virus. You were close, closer than most couples would be, but you loved that aspect of your relationship. Everything just felt so natural. 

This though… This had never happened, and for some reason you felt too naked. “Seungmin!” You squealed, and he pulled open the curtain a little bit, a tired smile on his face after just waking up from a nap. “What!? No! Don’t look at me!” You tried to pull the curtain around yourself, but he tilted his head further, his eyes trailing over your body as he licked his lips. 

“Can I get in with you?” He asked, and you were taken aback by the sudden question. You had never showered together, and while it would be no different from him being with you in bed, for some reason this just feels more personal. “To save water, obviously. Plus, you’ll have the hot water gone by the time you’re done.” 

“Well… I…” You stammered, but he was already stripping out of his clothes and climbing in behind you. “Minnie…” You whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to hide your body from him. “I’ll… I’ll just finish washing my hair and get out…” 

“Mm… No, I’ll help.” He said, sleep still lacing his voice as he stepped closer to you, his body pressed flush against your back and his arms wrapped around you. “We never get to be close like this… I’ve missed you.” He whispered, his breath felt cold against your overheated skin, sending shivers down your spine. 

“I know what you’re trying to do, Minnie…” You sighed, although your body still fell against his. “I’m just so tired.” A yawn emphasized your words, and his hold on you loosened before he started rinsing your hair out, humming a soft melody to himself as he did. 

“I might love sex… a lot, like a whole lot…” He murmured, rinsing the bubbles from his hands before helping with the conditioner next. “But I also love you, a whole lot more. I know you’re tired, that’s why I want to help you.” He finished massaging the conditioner into your hair and then lathered the body wash on your loofah before gently scrubbing your back. “I like being close to you, no matter what we’re doing. After this, I was really hoping we could order a pizza and cuddle and watch a movie. Do you want to?” 

Yang Jeongin

The front door flew open, and you whipped around to see your wonderful, adorable boyfriend standing there with a wide smile as he waved around two rectangular pieces of paper. “Guess what your super cool boyfriend just got!?” Your head tilted, urging him to go on. “Front row tickets to the TXT concert, baby! Let’s go!” 

“Mmm… Innie, honey, love of my life…” You started, walking over to him and carefully grabbing the tickets from his hand. “You want to go to a concert, a very public concert… As an idol… With your girlfriend that the world knows nothing about right now?” You weren’t trying to kill the mood, you hated to be the one to burst his bubble, especially when you knew he was trying to surprise you, but you also knew that the two of you needed to be careful. 

“We can wear disguises… matching disguises!” He quickly came up with the most Jeongin idea ever, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you shook your head. “I just know that you’ve been wanting to see them and I wanted you to think I’m the bestest boyfriend in the whole world.” He sighed, his bottom lip puffing out, and you felt so awful that you quickly wrapped your arms around him to try to make him feel better. 

“You are the bestest boyfriend in the whole wide world. That’s why I don’t want the fans to find out like this… what if the company makes us break up? I couldn’t handle that.” His mouth fell open and his hug got tighter, as if the thought of you leaving him had him wanting to hold you closer. “Can’t you just ask Beomgyu for backstage tickets?” 

“No!” He said rather loudly, and your eyebrow arched questioningly as you craned your neck to look at him. “He… he doesn’t know we’re together. He thinks we’re just friends and every time I even mention you he goes on a 15 minute rant about how perfect and beautiful and wonderful you are and like… Obviously I already know that!” You snorted loudly and he let out a little whine. “It’s not funny! He’s trying to take you away from me!” 

“Mmm no… He doesn’t know that I’m yours, he’s just trying to get with me.” You explained, and he gave you a scowl. “He’s like, my ult bias. You think he’d sign my photocards?” 

“Hold up! I thought I was your ult bias!” He squealed, but when you started laughing, he quickly calmed down. “Not funny. My hair is better than his anyway and he… he doesn’t have muscles like I do. Right? I mean… can he do this?!” He lifted you up and your arms quickly wrapped around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. “You know all the fun things we could do when I got you like this, hmm?” 

You leaned in, kissing up his neck slowly, feeling his body shudder and a low moan building in his chest. “How about we skip the concert and you show me?” 

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[icedmatchatae]

Good for Me | KTH

Pairing: Bad Boy Taehyung x Wholesome Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, PWP (porn with plot LMAO),

Summary: You went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?

Warning: OC’s parents are those strict nosy parents who still tell you what to do even if you’re 50 years+, mentions of Christianity hfrowhouw SUE ME, i have no idea what oc and tae are but you know there’s something, mentions of violence, blood, fighting, sneaky sneaky, dom tae x subby reader but tae is needy and whipped for her, he’s just a little shit, tae has a favorite curse word—it’s fuck, TAEHYUNG IS HUGE AND HUNG, aggressive handling (but oc consented), degradation/praise combo, pet names (because I’m a simp), oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, spanking, tae enjoys seeing oc cry, licking, i think i have an obsession with orgasm control/denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), cream pie, cum play, the ending though MWAHAHAHAH

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: I’m adding on for the taewhores and also wrote one lol BLAME THE FUCKING ELLE COVERS BECAUSE THIS SHOT OUT OF MY BLEEDING VAGINA DJDBDBSB I’M REPENTING AFTER THIS also cross-posted on AO3. Posting this at 2AM because that's when the feral wolf comes out :D

“You know ___, you shouldn’t be going out and partying. What if you do drugs and we don’t know? You know you should focus on yo—”

“Dad, for the last time, I’ve been focusing on my studies.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting a whole ‘nother lecture when you’re here, and you got here today! “I rarely go out too, plus if I do, I know I have to finish my work! You’ve seen my grades!”

“Yes, I know but still. Those worldly activities won’t get you anywhere in life but trouble.” Your dad expressed his continuous concern for you. He can’t help that you were his youngest. “Especially with boys! I mean your sisters have boyfriends but we don’t want that for y—”

“Dad, please. Nothing’s going on with me.” You semi-lied. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you stared exhaustingly at him. “It’s also not fair, but I don’t want to get into that.” You muttered under your breath as your father rested his hands on his hips.

“I’m just worried about you, sweet pea, especially since you’re farther away from us than your sisters were.” He reasoned worryingly. “We rarely hear from you too.”

“Because I’m just tired and I’m usually studying.” You shrugged. “I’m safe, okay? If I’m not, I know to call you or mom.”

“Fine…” He still didn’t look convinced, but it was enough to end it…for today only. “I always pray for your safety regardless. You should get some sleep since we’re waking up early tomorrow for the church fellowship.”

“I still don’t know why you wanted me to come for the weekend.” It was random and unexpected. But your father called you a couple of days back telling you to come back home for the weekend, so as a good and obedient daughter, you did.

“Of course, you needed to come.” He said like it was obvious. “As the pastor of the church and the one who’s hosting it, I’d like all my children to come.”

“But why aren’t the other two here?” You questioned. You haven’t seen your two older sisters yet.

“I mean they live around the area, unlike you since you’re hours away. We figured that they’ll meet us over there.” He responded. 

Great, you were the only one and had to deal with both of your parents for the entire weekend alone. At least your mom was already sleeping, but once she wakes up, it’ll only be twice as worse.

“Alright, well, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” You announced before hugging him. “Good night, love you.”

“Love you too, sweet pea, and remember, dear, the Lord is watching.” Your father pointed upwards, indicating the invisible yet existent one. You gulped before nodding obediently and going under your sheets. Before he left your room, he held the doorknob and said, “No boys, and don’t forget to pray!”

“Okay.” You didn’t even bother to look at him as you were situating yourself comfortably in bed. The bedroom lights were clicked off, yet the only light source was your bedside lamp. You heard your door closed shut and the sounds of his heavy footsteps disappeared away from your room before letting out a relieving sigh.

You don’t even know how long you could keep like this. There were many reasons why you wanted to be away for college, and this was one of them. You cheered yourself on right now, knowing that it’s just this weekend and you’ll be back in your freedom in no time.

This was where prayer came in handy, asking for the amount of strength and patience you’ll need with your parents. But it was all interrupted by the blue light and vibrations coming from your phone resting on your nightstand. This sigh you let out was more exasperated than before. You turned your head in that direction. You couldn’t really what was on it at this angle, but you definitely knew who it was.

You snatched your phone to find the 43 messages, 12 missed calls, and 2 voicemails from the one and only Kim Taehyung.

You honestly don’t know how you got into this mess, or how you weren’t able to get him away (probably because you still wanted him to be within reach). But the cycle continued.

It was probably because you were new to that town, having no background about your new hometown, and usually, those who lived there continued to stay there. You were fresh meat. But don’t get it wrong, people were nice and brought you in like you were always part of the community. You found new friends, even living with a girl who treated you so sweetly and caringly. It almost felt like they wanted to protect you from something…or rather someone.

That happened to be Taehyung.

You see here, folks. Kim Taehyung had a…infamous reputation. His name always got a reaction since the day he came into the world. What that meant was people were afraid of him. He grew up as a delinquent, had some family issues, got into loads of trouble, got suspended from school, was shipped to boarding school but got expelled and came back, and even got into countless fights. You recalled someone mentioning he once beaten his teacher up because he got a low grade that he shouldn’t have deserved.

He tended to get what he wanted. It didn’t help the fact that he came from a pretty well-off family, so whatever he did, it didn’t reach the police. Right? Fucking rich people.

Nevertheless, Taehyung’s behavior with or without his familial status was rogue. There have been rumors about him getting into gangs, drugs, you know the typical dark side of society. You couldn’t confirm nor deny it because despite his willingness to tell you, you never wanted to hear anything about it. Ignorance was bliss under this circumstance.

With that being said, when you first came here, you were instantly warned to stay away from him or else…You reasoned with, “or else what?” But then they proceeded to say the same things to you—he was dangerous, he harms others, he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself, if you’re in his way, he’ll wipe your entire existence away, and your life would get fucked up.

You did in fact listen and stayed away. You rarely knew of him or even saw him around, but it was better safe than sorry. Of course, fate begged to differ. 

Oh, that’s right. That’s how you got into this mess. You were partners with him in a general requirement course, and then after briefly talking to him, you realized he wasn’t all that bad.

First off, the dude was immaculate looking, like, who wouldn’t want to stare at his chiseled features? Yeah, he stared intensely almost like he wanted to kill you, but it affected you in other ways. His voice was cavernous and velvet like you wanted him to read the Bible to you.

He looked annoyed, yet he was a chill dude. There you thought—give him a chance and a break.

Oh boy, you thought wrong. So so wrong.

But did you love it? Absolutely.

This was why you needed to repent.

You didn’t even bother reading his texts. You decided to call him and annoyingly sat up from your comfortable position. The call didn’t even ring twice because, after the first one, he answered immediately.

“Petal, where the fuck are you?” He shouted through the phone. You squinted to yourself but weren’t as affected by his tone since you were used to it by now.

“I went home for the weekend.” You simply replied.

“And didn’t fucking bother to tell me?”

“It was a last-minute thing, and it slipped my mind.” You shrugged, then you pulled your blankets off of you to get up and habitually pace around the room while you talked. “Plus, you don’t have any authority to know where I am.”

“I absolutely do have the authority whether you like it or not.”

“Ew, red flag, why?” 

“I need to know if you’re safe.” His voice subsided this time, knowing he was probably pouting yet you couldn’t see it. Okay, this was rather valid since you were associated with the bad boy of the town.

“Well, I am safe. I’m away from school and all of that.” You blushed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. “I’m with my parents too. My holy parents, might I add.” 

“Right, holy parents and your holy sisters who got married to other holy men.” You could hear the sarcasm leaving his mouth. “Yet there’s nothing holy about their slutty little girl and the man that’s been fucking her to hell.”

“Shhhhh, don’t say stuff like that, Taehyung!” You whisperingly yelled as you stopped your pacing to clench your legs together. You always hated how much of a potty mouth he was. Though you internally loved it. “You know I don’t like that.”

“Come on, Petal. I’m just lightening up my mood, especially since you left me.”

“I won’t be gone for that long. It’s only the weekend, and I’ll be back in no time.” You resumed your pace before standing in front of your window with your back facing it. 

“That’s too long for me to not have you.”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do!”

“You can come back, Petal.”

“No, I can’t!” You shook your head. “My parents will get mad if I leave, for a boy too.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to let you take.”

“Taetae, no!” You were trying to stand your ground. You already had four lectures with your parents, you can’t argue with him right now. “I need to sleep, it’s getting late too!”

Though his heart fluttered at the use of the nickname, he was getting pissed off that you weren’t being a good girl for him. “Babydoll, be careful with your words. I’m warning you.” His voice went an octave down, shocking your body especially your cunt. Even hundreds of kilometers away, he had such a powerful effect on you.

“I am being careful! With everything. Now please, I have to get up early tomorrow. Good night, okay Taetae? I’m sorry.” You rushed your words in fear that you were getting too loud that your parents might hear.

“This isn’t ov—” You didn’t let him finish because you decided that this conversation was over. You didn’t want to get into trouble on both ends, but your parents scared you more than him. They’ll probably want to purify you if they found out you were stained by the lustful demon-like Taehyung.

Despite ending the call, here came Taehyung calling you over and over again. You could not be bothered with it, so you settled it back onto your nightstand. You were exhausted, frustrated, and horny, but sleep was above all right now. You had to bite your tongue and go to bed.

You were about to get back into your sheets when suddenly your window from the second level of the house opened, and a gust of wind pushed its way inside. Your head snapped back at the speed of light, then a large palm covered your entire mouth before you could scream your heart out.

Though in low light, your wild widened eyes saw his face.  But what sparked you was his concerning appearance. While disheveled ebony hair was pushed back with little strands falling off his forehead, yet there was a deep cut with dried-up blood around its corners. Hues of purple and yellow covered his rich eyes that gleamed in the night whilst glaring deeply into your soul. The perfect bridge of his curved nose had another pained gash. His ever-so-plumped lips were peeled and split open and the corner of his mouth held bruising. Despite all, he looked so perfect in your dazed eyes.

“Good night, okay Taetae?” At a lower volume, he mimicked your voice at a higher pitch than how you actually sounded. He dropped his hand off of you and started waving both hands around. “Oh, look, I’m ___. I need my rest to go to church with my pastor dad and repent all the nasty shit I do with my Taetae.”

You didn’t even bother to point out how he was inaccurately impersonating you because you were shushing him to shut up. “Taehyung, be quiet. My parents could hear you.” You shook your head, eyes shifting from the closed door to him. Then you realized it wasn’t locked, so you rushed there to lock it immediately. You checked the knob and once it didn’t budge, you peered back at the frustrated man standing tall and intimidating. “How did you even find me?”

“I always find you.” He snorted as his eyes roamed around your childhood bedroom. Very pink with an unhealthy amount of plushies scattered around and you had so many pictures of your family. Not to mention the Bible at your desk. “We also share each other’s location.”

“I don’t even look at yours.”

“That’s your fault.” He retorted back.

“Taetae, you’re all bruised up!” You gasped as you finally saw patches of blood stains on his denim and army fabric jacket. A sleeve was torn and ripped. His knuckles held more bruising cuts and discoloration. You couldn’t even process that he had no shirt underneath because battered markings painted his torso. It wasn’t unusual to see him like this because these things occurred regularly but never made you less at ease. You reached for his hands and inspected for any other cuts and bleeding. “Noo, do you feel like you have a concussion? Is your head also okay? Will you need stitches agai—“

Out of nowhere, his long fingers grasped under your jaw, pulling you closer to his face. His grip tightened, causing you to wince in pain. Dang, he was so furious. Not bothering to answer you, he interrupted your worries. “Now the fuck you were doing, talking back at me and hanging up? You’re not being a good girl right now.”

Though you were in a light panic for him, you didn’t like when he scolded you like that. You frowned profoundly, “I-I’m a good girl, Taetae.” Your cheeks were puffed and squishy, he even struggled to put a hard exterior.

You were always so soft even before him. You didn’t like getting scolded despite hearing numerous lectures from your parents. You always wanted to be obedient to those you loved. 

However, Taehyung’s scoldings hit a little differently.

“Oh yeah, does a good girl leave their man without permission?” Taehyung patronized you, he knew how to get you to fear him. You merely shook your head and apologized, but he wasn’t having it. “Words, Petal. Speak up.”

“No, they don’t. I-I’m sorry, Taehyung.”

He lets out a dark chuckle before he pressed his injured lips to your forehead. They felt soft and warm on your skin. “I don’t think you’re sorry, babydoll. Seems like the bad girl needs to be punished.”

You shook your head, lips pushing out into a pout. “No, please.” You breathed. “My paren—”

Taehyung tutted and rolled his eyes before using the hand that held your face to coerce your head down so you can drop down to your knees. “Kneel before me, slut.”

You whimpered weakly as your knees landed on the ground with a loud thud. Your palmed rested in front of his dirtied boots. Your heart palpitated fast in fear of getting caught, but your mind was preoccupied with the unexpected slap from the man before you.

You bit your lips deeply, trying not to make any more sounds. The tears in your eyes threatened to be released but you also held back by squeezing your eyes shut. More so to not give Taehyung satisfaction. But when you peeled them back open and looked up, it was over for you.

He leered down at you, his stone demeanor expanded by the second. You noticed his naked chest raising harshly from the breaths he took. You immediately felt smaller and smaller the longer you stared at each other in this position.

“Be a good girl and take my cock out”. He commanded as he threaded his fingers through your hair and yanked you closer. “Now.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer. Your trembling hands tugged his belt off. You tried your best to quicken up the pace, but it seemed to hold you back as you struggled with the button pants and zipper. Taehyung noticed too so he fastened his grip on you to tell you to hurry up, making you weep.

“S-sorry.” You apologized quietly but it wasn’t enough for him. Once you pulled his pants down, you were met with a familiar bulge in his underwear. When you freed him, his monstrous dick slapped his toned stomach and bounced before you.

Taehyung never failed to amaze you with how colossal he was. The first time you saw it you wanted to run away, but he caught you and you got hooked. His darkened mushroom head was huge while the base was thick and his curved length was long and veiny. It was the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and seemed that God blessed him very well. 

Nothing happened between the two of you yet but the slit of his tip pearled fluids. You gawked agape with your mouth parted and tongue swiping your lips. His dick twitched, waiting for you to do something but you were too mesmerized.

Impatiently, using his unoccupied hand, he seized your jaw again, keeping your mouth open. “You’re fucking taking too long.” It didn’t take him long to bring your lips to his cock and push all of him in one motion.

You let out a muffled cry with watery eyes. If the tears fell before, they sure did now.  Your throat muscles throbbed around him from the unexpected slamming.  You gagged painfully, especially since his blunt head hit the back of your throat. Your mouth produced trickling drool all over him and down your chin. You were by no means prepared, but Taehyung didn’t seem bothered as he began his harsh pace.

You held onto his muscular thighs. You were crying so much but your sobs were smothered by the cruel thrusts of his rabid cock. Despite the sting, the actions sent a flood to your thin underwear. The familiar warmth covered your stomach, clenching your thighs together for some pressure on your poor leaking cunt.

��Fuck, Petal. Shit.” He cursed lowly. His cavernous moans echoed through the air. “Look at me.” His order sounded like a threat. He stopped his movements; his cock halfway in your mouth. When you opened your heavy lids, he looked so hot and bothered even in your blurry vision. “My pretty girl.” His thumb wiped off the trail of tears. 

You were always pretty in his eyes, smiling, and laughing, even when you get angry at his annoying ass. But he especially thought you were pretty when he made you cry like this. 

Then he went back to bobbing your head brutally on him. Your nails scratched his thighs, leaving indents on them. You retched again, spit drenching all over him. “Fucking amazing for a slut like you. Is this what you wanted, since you’re a fucking bad girl?”

You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t so you shook your head and whimpered. You weren’t a bad girl. You were good!

You were getting lightheaded, feeling so stuffed to even breathe. Taehyung observed your face getting a little pale. You always forgot to learn how to breathe when giving him a blow job.

He pressed into you once more and a bit longer than usual, so he can imprint the feeling of your mouth again into his spank bank. He ultimately pulled out, leaving a long string of drool from his tip to your crimson lips. His dick covered in your sweet saliva. 

You heaved profoundly and wept here and there. You wanted to tell him off, but you were too scared to say anything. You pushed the tears away with the back of your hand and gulped your words but it pained you to do that.

“God, you’re messy,” He laughed cynically at you. “Aww, you’re upset, babydoll?” He asked condescendingly.

“N-no,” You sniffed, trying your best to be strong. “I’m not.”

“Good, you better not.” He said, letting go of your hair. “Stand up.”

This time you were swift on your feet. Though with painful reddened knees, you stood up wobbly and held Taehyung’s biceps for some support. He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you to be chest to chest with him. 

Being like this, you saw how he towered over you. The height difference wasn’t compared to a gremlin and the Incredible Hulk but he was still way taller than you. He absorbed your appearance, finally taking in how you wore a cute brown bear pajama shirt and matching shorts. The fresh aroma of roses from your body wash and your natural scent swirling into his nostrils sent his pheromones into a frenzy. He wanted you so badly.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you while your parents are sleeping?” His hot breath splashed your face, fluttering you into submission. You unconsciously nodded excitingly but it caused him to tut at you. “I’m not gonna tell you again. Exact words, babydoll.”

“Yes!” You shouted too quickly that only after you caught yourself, covering your mouth with your palms. He smirked at your reaction—so needy for him. Just the way he loved it. Your hands slowly traveled to his shoulders as you batted your beautiful irises at him. You didn’t like swearing, but it came often when you were with him alone. “Uhh, p-please f-fuck me. I’m your good girl, Taetae.”

The perfect answer.

He bent down to peck the tip of your nose then went further down to lick the trunk of your neck. He picked a spot before suckling around to mark his territory. You mewled at the sensation, slithering your arms around his nape. He began moving towards your bed while you stepped back, following his lead until you fell back onto the sheets of your mattress. Your back rested while your legs hung at the edge of the bed.

Your unapologetic eyes wandered his frame.

He kicked his pants and boots off his ankles, leaving him in only his jacket. But even that, he took off. The faded and lighter scars sprawled his torso, showing evidence of fights and brawls through the years. The fresher wounds battered his rough skin and once you saw gauges wrapped around his right hip with blood patches seeping through, you sat up straight with pupils dilated.

“Taehyung, your—”

“I didn’t tell you to speak,” He growled, and stalked to the bed before pushing your shoulder roughly to lay back down. Your body bounced, trying to process what was happening but he tugged your shorts and panties down and off your skin.

He kneeled in front of you, callous palms spreading your thighs apart to reveal your leaking puffy pussy. He didn’t even touch you and you were this soaked. He inhaled deeply, taking in your sweet essence.

Jesus Christ, you were always embarrassed when he did that. It was like his human nature devolved into animalistic instincts. His mouth had a mind of its own, nibbling your inner thighs and placing even more marks on you like he wanted to claim you. You gasped quietly, jerking a little. So sensitive as always. His thumbs stretched your nether lips apart, revealing more of you to him. The petals of your sex opened for him. Your little hole throbbing around nothing but secreted so much wetness, even spotted your tiny clit inflamed, begging to be touched.

But to your luck, Taehyung wasn’t the type to get on with it right away…well he can, but most of the time, he chose not to. No, sir, he took his time with you, to the point you had to drop your pride and beg. His fingers lightly caressed your sex, enough for you to feel it but do no pleasure.

“Tae,” You whined, hands reaching for him but he swatted them away.

“Don’t touch me, put them on your sides.” He seethed through his teeth.

“But—”

Smack! The slap stung your cunt, making you welp loudly. He does another and your head turned to the side. You cried, pressing your face into your blankets. Taehyung continued hitting your pussy until it was red and sensitive.

“Naughty girl!” He slapped your lips once more, jolting your feeble body. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You think just because you’re with your family that you forgot all the rules we had, hm??”

“N-n-no.” You sobbed, shaking your head cowardly. “I promise I reme—”

A knock came on your bedroom door.

Both of your heads shot toward the direction with wide eyes. Another knock happened again before the person on the other end said, “___?” Another knock. “Sweet pea, I heard noises. Are you good?” Then the fucking knob jiggled, but fortunately, you locked it. “Why’d you lock the door? What are you doing?”

Shoot, it was your dad. Your pastor dad. Now your heart was heavy and dropped down to your uneasy stomach. You needed to say something quickly, but no words came out. You shifted to see Taehyung who shrugged and smirked devilishly, leaving you to fend for yourself. 

It was only until your dad said, “Do I need to use the spare keys to open the door?” That you spoke up.

“No! I’m good, I just…I accidentally dropped my phone on my face.” You lied, praying he’d buy it. 

“You and your dang phone.” He complained through the door. Taehyung’s mouth went wide with silent laughter hearing you get scolded. You pursed your lips, shaking your head. He was no help at all because there was a gleam of mischief and it wasn’t a good sign at all. “You need to get off of that thing, sweet pea. You won’t have enough sleep. Remember you’re joining the praise team in the morning.”

“Yes, dad! I know. I’m sorry to—unghhh.” Your sentence was interrupted by the sudden breach from Taehyung’s two long fingers sliding in so smoothly into your cunt. 

“___? ___, are you okay?” Your dad questioned as he continuously knocked on your door.

It didn’t take long for Taehyung to find your g-spot, curling his fingers to muscle memory. His digits pumped into you, and at times, he thumbed your clit. He had your eyes rolling back and biting your lips to stop your struggling whimpers. “I-I’m f-fine right now. D-d-ahh worry!”

“Are you sure you’re fine? You sound like you’re in pain.”

Taehyung dived into your pussy, taking a long lick before wrapping his lips around your sensitive nub. The tips of his fingers did their magic hitting your insides, playing with the squish of immense ecstasy.

You shrieked involuntarily, fisting the blankets under you as you threw your head back. “Yes, I’m fine!” You groaned distressingly. “I-I’m so…touched by my prayer before sleeping.” You swore faintly when Taehyung suckled and flattened his tongue on your clit.

“Prayer to the Lord is always so emotional, sweet pea.” Your father pointed out, but you really didn’t give a shit. “Alright, don’t want to disturb your time. Hope you get some sleep soon though. Good night.”

His footsteps faded away and you mentally cheered that you didn’t get caught, but you had sudden guilt that you basically spoke to your father with a guy eating you out.

Taehyung released his mouth off you to see how you appeared, crumbling at his touch. Your face wrinkled together with your mouth parted, and you saying his name with your pretty voice had his aching cock twitching. He reached over to the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your soft bare breasts and hardened nipples. “Such a pretty girl. Touched by the prayer? No, no, I’m the one you should be praying to.”

“D-don’t say that.” You moaned he knew you were very much in tune with your spirituality but he also liked to mess around with you.

“Why, Petal? You don’t like what I say, hmm?” He pouted mockingly, pushing his fingers deeper into you. You gasped, digging your head into the mattress. “I’ll give you everything that you want.” These blankets did no justice, you needed to hold onto him. You put your hand out, silently asking to hold him. Taehyung was mean but he wasn’t that mean…at least not today, so he accepted your request and intertwined his vacant hand with yours.

He felt your cunt getting tighter, understanding what was about to happen. Well, remember how Taehyung wasn’t that mean? That statement was taken back because he said, “Don’t come until I say so.”

You whined, giving your best doe-eyes and pinkest pout. “Please, Taetae. Wanna cum.”

Without removing any touch of you, he stood from his feet before covering your entire body with his large one. His face leaned down until your noses touched. “No.” He simply replied, yet his pace wasn’t slowing down. “Hold it.”

Your eyes twitched, wrestling to keep your orgasm under control. He always loved to play with you like this. You attempted to stabilize your breathing, deep and slow breaths. In…and out. In…and out. Yeah, this wasn’t working when Taehyung’s four-inch fingers were jamming into you. The pressure in your stomach tightened, clenching your abdominals to get your reach. It wasn’t a good girl thing to do, but he was mean!

“Can’t! Please!” You begged once more, knowing it couldn’t be stopped.

“No, be a good girl.”

Sorry, Taehyung but it was too late. Your eyes were already going to the back of your head, and you were prepared for the high of it all. But once you started arching your back, he pulled his fingers and hand away from you. You still had your orgasm but it felt so weak going through it without him helping you come down. Your pussy burned unpleasantly.

He glared at you, watching your lousy orgasm go to waste. All because you didn’t listen to him. But whose fault was that? Taehyung will never take the blame.

Pathetically unsatisfied, you came down and exhaled. It physically and emotionally pained you how shitty that orgasm was. And with a pissed-off Taehyung looming over you, it’ll be torture.

“Bad, bad girl.” Taehyung was disappointed at you, something you grimaced over. “I told you not to but you didn’t it anyway.”

“I couldn’t stop it…” You whispered.

“Couldn’t stop yourself? You really are a fucking slutty bad girl.” Getting slightly self-conscious from his jeering eyes, you closed your legs and covered your chest. Your face flushed with post-orgasm and shame.

Taehyung saw your actions, softening his tough demeanor. He lifted you to the middle of the bed before climbing over your concealed body. At this angle, the moonlight struck his body. Every muscle and indent defined, every wound and bruise visible, every part of him shined so beautifully and perfectly. 

His knees spread your legs open to go in between while carefully pulling your arms off your chest. His face goes down to yours, planting little kisses all over your face in hopes he doesn’t make you feel too bad. “Tell me if I go too far, Petal. Don’t hide from me.”

You shook your head, “You’re not. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’ll be good, I promise.”

You were soooo good to him. He smiled tenderly, pecking another on the tip of your nose before the demon smirk came back. “Then you’re still gonna get it. Get on your knees.”

You nodded and were about to twist your body when Taehyung grasped your waist and flipped you over. He pushed down your back, arching your ass up before landing a loud slap to it. You cried into the pillow, hugging it as if it was like your protection. He slapped the other cheek, receiving another reaction from you.

“Since you’re weak at controlling yourself,” He grabbed his thick length. His head played with you, gliding across the slit and collecting your saturation until he aligned it with your hole. He puts a little bit of pressure, enough to make you moan for more but then stopped. “Maybe I should punish you by giving more than what you can handle.”

That was…even worse. But you had to accept it, so you could be the good girl for him. 

Knowing he could maim you, he steadily filled you up. You felt every inch of him getting deeper and deeper inside, the stretch of your pussy left a dull ache. He held your hips as he guided himself in. Once he bottomed out, the both of you let out a sigh of relief. Every time you do this, it always felt like the first time because of how big he was.

“So fucking tight, Petal.” He hissed. The sensation of you pulsating had his head thrown back.

After a while, the two of you knew it was time for him to move. Taehyung pulled himself back, leaving his head and then piercing back in. You jolted forward, but he kept you firmly to continue his aggressive yet even pace. Each penetration to your spot left you wailing into the pillow, gripping its covers. The slapping of your skin resonated in your childhood bedroom, the only sound that could be heard other than Taehyung’s heavy breathing and your keens.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Taehyung asked lowly before speeding up his movements, making you louder in the cushion. When he didn’t get the answer that he wanted, he looped your hair around his hand and hauled your upper body until your back pressed to his sweaty chest. You winced in pain but you hooked an arm around his neck.

“I want—unggh, y-yes.” Tears fell on your cheeks. Your neck extended to the side, giving him full access to licking and sucking your skin. “A-am I being a—your good g-girl?”

“You’re such a fucking good girl, Petal. Fucking good girl.” He praised you, muffling into your neck. His other hand kneaded your boob, massaging your nipple between his appendages. You groaned at the added touch. The twist in your stomach rose, sensing another high coming soon. Taehyung noticed you tightening around his ramming shaft, so he slid his hand down to your clit and made circular motions. “Cream around my cock again. Come on, pray to me. Bless my name with your sweet sounds.”

“Taehyung, please, please, ahh.” You breathed heavily, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder. His length ravaged your insides and his fingers pinched your sensitivity until the knot released. You splashed with blistering ecstasy, almost about to scream at the top of your lungs but his palm covered your pitched sounds. You stifled chants of his name with your rolling eyes, even lapping your tongue over his callous. His thrusts slowed down this time, easing you down. He showered you with compliments, kissing your jaw and cheek. 

Once you came back, he took himself out of you to lay you down. He needed to see your face clearly at least once. He grabbed himself and plunged in again. You keened in volume, but Taehyung shushed you. “Babydoll, be quiet. Don’t want your dad to exorcise the both of us.”

You nodded pliantly and slapped hands over your lips. He moved at his previous pace, yet your sensitivity increased after your two orgasms. You were overstimulated but pushed through to help him meet his climax. He handled your hips where it would leave bruises days after. He hunched over to your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling it with his tongue.

His touch was a mixture of all—needy, urgent, warm, cool, rough, and supple. You loved it all, you wanted more of him. You quivered into your palms, muting the uncontrollable noises escaping you.

He popped off your nub. His thrusts jerked faster and sloppier, recognizing how close he was. His resonant whimpers rung through your ears. It was like his thumb was magnetic to your clit because it was on you again and flicking rapidly. You shuttered, shaking your head at the intensity. It was too much. “One more for me, Petal. I wanna feel you, please.”

Darn, he said please. There was no way to deny him. After four more pumps, he buried himself still. He painted your insides white with his cum, whining your name. Meanwhile, you tirelessly came again. Blinding white spots came into your vision, ringing happened in your eardrums. The feeling of scorching euphoria spread all over your body as you curved your spine. Your hands were replaced with Taehyung’s mouth, sluggishly kissing you and keeping you as quiet as possible but let’s be real.

He kissed your lips once more before scooting in between your neck and shoulder to leave more smooches on your perspiring skin. His cum inside electrified you, feeling it flood around. It wasn’t until his softening dick pulled out of you, that the dam of cum seeped out your weeping pussy.

What an immaculate sight that he couldn’t resist.

Your energy-drained body thought it was over. But Taehyung had other plans because once you felt his tongue on your enlarged overloaded clit, you gasped in shock. “Taehyung, can’t anymore!” Your fingers attempted to push him off of you but you were too helpless and fatigued to overpower his strength.

He tasted the concoction of both of your cum, playing with the juice all over you and his mouth. He was addicted to the taste, vibrating another low moan to your clit.

You begged for him to stop, but he wasn’t going to finish until you came one more time. He lets go hastily and said, “Last one. Come on, Petal.”

Then there was your last orgasm. It was weaker than the previous, better than the first, but the most agonizing one. It burned but was so divine. You shoved your face into your cushion, crying away from every sensation and emotion you felt. 

Taehyung was finally off of you and went up your body to kiss you again. But you were so lethargic, you couldn’t keep up and lay there like a Twinkie. You didn’t even comprehend how he walked out of your bedroom to look for the bathroom, knowing damn well your parents could see him.

But he made it back alive and unseen with a damp cloth to clean you up. He wiped you clean as you stared at him with so much endearment and swell to your heart even after pounding you like an animal.

After he was done cleaning, he threw the dirtied rag to the ground before climbing back in bed and putting the covers over your naked bodies. “You did so good, ___. My good girl, my favorite girl.” He pressed a kiss on your temple before you fell into slumber.

-

“___, wake up! We’re gonna be late!” Harsh knocks through your door disrupted your dreams. You groaned loudly, wanting to go back to sleep. “Sweet pea, get dressed!” It was your mom calling for you. You rubbed your eyes sluggishly in your raggedy state and rolled over. With squinting lids, you searched for your phone to check the time.

You overslept, and you panicked a bit. You kept your cool, it was fine. This was a small bump, but you’ll get over it.

Suddenly, something or someone shifted beside you. You turned your head before you were fully awake by your heart dropping down and coming out of your ass. A peaceful hibernating and naked Taehyung was by your side, cuddling your body. No wonder you woke up with furnace-like heat against you.

Immediately, you shot out of your bed to stand up but you completely forgot that after a night with Taehyung, you become temporarily paralyzed from the waist down. So you stood up and your feeble numb legs made you drop to the floor.

“___, are you awake? I heard a noise.” Your mom questioned again.

“Yeah,” you grimaced at how raspy your voice was. “I-I just woke up, I’m sorry.” You crawled towards the other side of the bed where Taehyung was.

“You have 30 minutes! I told you not to stay up late at night! You know…”

You tuned out her lecture because you were trying to wake Taehyung up in fear that you might get caught. “Taetae, wake up.” You were usually so gentle because it took him a while to fully get up but you slapped the shit out of him.

His eyes stammered open in surprise. He bolted awake and in pain. He was about to yell but you covered his mouth as you stared with alarming pupils. “It’s morning, my parents are awake. I need to get ready and you need to leave.”

“___! Are you listening to me? Do I need to open your door to get you ready?” Your mother complained, trying to open your door but it was still locked. “I’m getting the key—”

“No, mommy!” You protested. Both of your heads directed to the door with widened eyes. “I swear I’ll get ready. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Okay…I’m almost done with breakfast.” She announced.

You breathed out in relief, knowing you were clear for now. But once you looked over to the naked man still in your bed, you had another morning task to do. “You need to leave. If I don’t come out in five minutes to go get my teeth brushed, my parents will come to get me out.”

Usually, Taehyung would play around, but he knew this time meant business. He nodded obediently. You rolled away to give him some space to get out and gather his scattered clothes. As he was getting dressed, you watched him.

The bruises, the cuts, and that deep wound were all still there. It made you upset, frowning at the mere thoughts of what Taehyung dealt with before coming to see you. You never liked what business or situation he was in, you didn’t know fully but again, just by looking at it, it was not good.

Taehyung detected your staring, but he was surprised at your sad state. “What’s wrong, Petal?”

“I know I said I don’t wanna know what you do, but it won’t change the fact that I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” You explained. “I’m seeing all of this and I’m worried sick, Taetae.”

He sighed, putting his jacket back on then walking over to pick you up on your feet. You used him as leverage. You acted like a baby dear standing on its legs for the first time, making him chuckle at your struggling state but it was too adorable. “I’m sorry for worrying you. You probably wanted to know what happened and I’ll tell you more about it later, but let’s just say I’m trying to get out of the things.”

Your eyes sparkled with joy, “You are? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

He smiled and shook his head, “I’m not just saying that. I’m serious. I’ve been…in it for a long time but I’ve been also wanting to stop.” You nodded understandingly. “Wanna do this for myself, but for you. I don’t want any of them or other affiliations to find you and use you against our will. It’s not easy, hence why I arrived like this, but it’ll come to an end.”

“Okay,” You grinned sweetly before puckering your lips and waiting for him to come.

He leaned down and accepted you, He circled his arms around your body as he kissed you tenderly. He parted away, foreheads touching. “I’m gonna miss you, Petal.”

“As I said, it’ll only be this weekend. I’ll be back tomorrow night.” You reassured but it wasn’t enough to prevent the pout on his lips. “Come on.”

The two of you walked over to the window. He opened the pane as he prepared his descent. His legs were out hanging, his arms and torso still inside your room. You went over to give him one last kiss for his travels back.

“I’ll miss you too, Taehyung.” You giggled, captivating his entire heart.

Feeling overwhelmed with the thoughts and emotions of you, he blurted out, “I love you so much, ___.” It was the first time either of you said it, and he just realized what he said when his eyes grew the size of saucers and stared at him like he was insane. You were a fish, opening and closing your mouth with no words coming out. You didn’t know how to react, but you definitely felt your heart palpitating briskly. 

Before you could finally say anything, he abruptly goes, “Okay, well, yeah bye. See you in psychology class.” He descended as fast as he could, trying to get away as possible. You didn’t even watch him out the window, which was a good thing for him as reached the ground. While walking away, he was mentally screaming at himself and fisting the air at what he did.

-

You were finally dressed and appropriate for church. You fixed the clip in your hair before walking out of your room and down the stairs. Yet your thoughts were elsewhere and about the boy who was in your room not too long ago.

He said I love you. The fucking bad boy of the town confessed his love for you. What the fuck? First of all, you weren’t even together. You didn’t know what you were, whatever. The only thing you knew was that Taehyung would beat the shit out of any guy that came your way. Second, it was an odd choice to say a confession after a sneaky night at your lover’s childhood house with their parents sleeping at the end of the hallway.

Thirdly, you knew what your feelings were but the little shit didn’t give you a chance to comprehend and tell your side. Ugh, now you have to deal with him opening up once you were back in town.

You reached the kitchen, greeting your parents. Your mom told you to take a seat as she prepared a plate for you. She glanced at you, then took another look intently yet you didn’t seem to notice.

Once seated, your father scrolled his phone for news and reread his notes for his sermon. He gazed up at you, then did a double take before raising an eyebrow yet you didn’t see his stare as your mom walked towards the table with your breakfast.

You were too busy looking down at the settled breakfast before to spot the questionable looks your parents made. Once you were about to devour your eggs and kimchi, your dad stopped you. “What were you doing last night?”

You blinked, “I was on my phone late at night, and did my emotional prayer, remember?” Your father hummed, nodding eerily calmly.

Then your mother spoke up as blunt and knowledgeable as she was. “Then why do you have hickeys all over your neck?”

A/N: There will NOT be a part two :D

All rights reserved for ©️ icedmatchatae 2023 (｡●́‿●̀｡)

[ieatstarsforaliving]

The Origin (1)

Summary: How you and Hazel and the fight club started. Also Hazel's Spider-Woman. But you don't know that.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of bruises and cuts, Idk what else

Word Count: 1508

Note: It's literally my first post. It may suck. I don't care. I don't get paid for this. I hope you do enjoy though, cause there's not enough Spider-Woman Hazel Callahan fics out here. Love yall - Bia <3

“You got paired up with (Y/N) for the ‘women murdered in history’ project?” 

Hazel nodded at Josie’s question. She had just left Mr. G’s class with PJ and Josie where he had introduced a new project to create a diorama based on a famous woman who was murdered. The partners were chosen by random, and to Hazel’s horror, she was paired up with you. 

Who just happened to be Hazel’s crush for 4. fucking. years.

Hazel had many moments of crises in her 18 years of life, which included getting bitten by a radioactive spider during sophomore year at a school field trip to the science fair, getting caught by Josie and PJ’s spider-trap (Where PJ wanted to catch Spider-Woman for her youtube channel with a net, and she actually managed to?) and Hazel had to reveal her secret identity, and her mother’s recent divorce with her minor-fucking, emotionally unavailable father. 

But none of them made Hazel as frantic as being paired with you for a school project. 

“Thats fucking amazing,” PJ said in jealousy. “How come that never happens with me and Brittany? I got paired up with that one emo kid who probably wants to blow up the school.” 

Hazel groaned, leaning her head against her locker. She was already tired from last night’s fight with a local bank robbery, which led to her face scratched and bandaged up today. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she was going to impress you. 

“Okay, well, you don’t look very happy considering you’re like, obsessed with her,” Josie commented. She was well used to Hazel’s constant remarks about how pretty you looked during class or how you made eye contact with her for 2 seconds. 

“I’m fucked. I just get so nervous around her,” Hazel replied, anxiety seeping out from her voice. “I have never really had a conversation with her other than, ‘hello’. If I can’t even talk to her properly, how am I going to do a whole project with her?” 

PJ rolled her eyes. “Hazel, why are you so worried? You literally swing down tall ass buildings and beat up tall ass criminals, and you can’t even talk to a girl that you like? Didn’t your spider powers give you like, enhanced everything?” 

“I’m pretty sure the whole point of Hazel’s secret identity is for you to not talk about it out in the open, PJ.” 

“I’m just saying, if I saved the neighborhood every night wearing a red and blue spandex lady gaga suit, I’d be getting so much puss right now.” 

The two continued to bicker as Hazel sighed. PJ was right. It was just a project. It wasn’t a big deal, it was only for a week, and she was certain you were straight anyways. All she had to do was just man up and talk to—

“Hazel?” 

Hazel jumped, turning around from her locker to see you standing with an alluring smile on your face. You wanted to talk to your project partner before the start of next class, who seemed to be very stunned at the sight of you. She looked like a puppy, with her widened blue eyes and her tousled brown hair. 

Hazel blinked rapidly and clutched her notebook, barely managing to reply with a small, “Hi.” 

“I don’t know if you remember me. I’m (Y/N),” You introduced yourself, starting to offer your hand but retracting immediately because you realized that you’re a high schooler and that it’s probably lame to shake hands in this day and age. “I’m partnered up with you for Mr. G’s class—” 

“-Yeah, I know who you are. (Y/N),” Hazel said, almost too quickly, causing her friends to hold in their laughter. “Mr. G’s project. Yeah– I can work on it. All of it, if you want.” 

“No, of course not, we can work on it together,” You laughed, before recognizing all the injuries on Hazel’s face. “By the way, you’re pretty bruised up. Are you okay?” 

Hazel instantly touched her bandages, feeling a bit embarrassed at her state. 

“’m fine. I just fell.” 

You frowned, staring intensely at Hazel’s face. “I don’t think you can get these cuts from falling.” 

“Well, some of them are from falling and some of them aren’t...” Hazel trailed off as you came closer, your face filled with genuine worry. You knew Hazel wasn't exactly popular, but you didn’t know she was bullied. Hazel slowly backed away, her heart beating out of her chest as her back made contact with her locker. 

Hazel's Face started to burn up, turning to Josie for help. Josie stuttered, “This is nothing, she just– she’s part of this— this club, and—”

“A club? What kind of club fucks up her face like this?” You interrupted, your hands reaching out and brushing Hazel’s bangs out of the way, carefully examining the bandages. “Is it like a fight club?” 

“Yes!” 

“No–” 

“-More like a women’s self defense club?”

You looked at the three girls who’ve provided different answers all at the same time.

PJ spoke up first. 

“Yes, we absolutely do have this club where girls fucking beat each other up and shit for… feminism. So that we can teach girls how to protect themselves from the evil male football players.” 

“You know how to fight?” You asked, staring at PJ who barely had any muscles.

“Yes. Because, We… went… to… juvie over the summer.” 

You blinked.

“...There’s also a serious lack of female solidarity in this school,” Hazel stiffly added. 

“Right. Okay, that’s fine, I guess,” You accepted. “Could I join?” 

“Yes. Absolutely!” PJ exclaimed, her face lighting up immediately. “You could bring your friends too. You know. Specifically your cheerleader friends. Specifically Brittany and Isabel.” 

Before you could question why specifically Brittany and Isabel, the bell rang to inform the students for the start of next class. 

“Okay, here—” You took the notebook Hazel was holding and quickly scribbled your number on one of the pages. “Message me so we can talk about the project. And the club. Is that okay?” 

You handed the notebook back as Hazel nodded, in denial that you just gave her your fucking phone number. You waved before running off to your next class, feeling happy that you had made a new friend. (haha friend…)

Meanwhile, Josie was losing her mind. 

“PJ, what the fuck are you doing?” 

“This is absolutely perfect!” 

“No, it’s not, PJ— we don’t have a feminist women’s self-defense fight club. You also don’t care about feminism. Your favorite movie is Entourage.” 

“Okay, first of all, shut up, and second, we can just make the club now, obviously. Come on– I just created the perfect opportunity for all of us to talk to Brittany, Isabel, and (Y/N)!” 

“Hazel, please tell PJ that she’s insane,” Josie turned to Hazel. 

Hazel grinned and said; 

“She gave me her number.” 

Josie groaned. “Congratulations! But we have a bigger problem now. We don’t know how to defend ourselves!” 

“Self-defense is common sense. You try to punch me in the face. I stop it from happening. Whatever, I don’t care, it’s easy,” PJ shrugged, holding a MMA fighter stance and started throwing air punches. 

“Yeah, maybe for Hazel, who literally has the… spider tingles? Hazel tingles?”

“Please do not start calling it Hazel tingles.” 

“And let’s not forget, you literally have superhuman strength,” Josie cautioned. “If we do this— very big if, we just run the biggest risk of exposing you and your spider identity. One wrong punch and you’ll send a girl to the hospital.”  

PJ turned to Hazel and grabbed her by the shoulders. 

“Hazel, listen to me. We teach a bunch of girls how to defend themselves against the evil high school fuckboys. They are grateful to us. Adrenaline is flowing— next thing you know, Isabel, Brittany, and (Y/N) are kissing us on the mouths!” 

Hazel paused. “I don’t know. Like Josie said, it’s a huge risk. The last thing I’d want to do is put (Y/N) in danger.”

A sardonic smile played on PJ’s lips. She tapped on Hazel’s notebook.

“Hazel, she gave you her number.”

Hazel stood, her mind racing once again. PJ’s idea of starting a self-defense club was dangerous, she knew that. She would be gaining attention all while showing off her fighting skills, which is what she had been hiding for years. Josie’s warning echoed in her mind. But then she remembered the way you had looked at her, with darling concern in your eyes when you asked about her injuries. She hadn’t had anyone worry for her like that in a while. 

Hazel took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Josie cried.

“She said okay! It's an okay! We’re doing this!” PJ screamed, grabbing Hazel’s hand and pulling her towards the school’s office to create the club. “We’re going to lose our virginities this year! This is the year!”

“Okay, but who’s going to be crazy enough to even advise this club?” Josie yelled after them, but the two were long gone.

Next Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

[foreverdolly]

this is a self pitying post and i’ll probably delete it later- but when i’m sad i tend to write it out. i’ve used this blog like a diary of sorts for the last two and a half years. i’ve developed a relationship with a lot of you on here and i appreciate all the love i’ve received so far on my last post. my friends that i have in real life, no matter how long i’ve known them, don’t know too much about my upbringing or my parents. i hate the idea of trauma dumping- it’s uncomfortable for other people: so don’t read this if you don’t want to. i wouldn’t blame you.

my dad died from cirrhosis due to alcoholism. he died miserable and alone. he had no friends. his family was sick of him. i tried to call him as often as i could but sometimes he could be mean if he was drunk. i knew not to call him after 11:00 in the afternoon because he would start to drink. he lived in his youngest brother’s basement and almost never came upstairs because he was embarrassed. i haven’t seen him in three years because he lives fourteen hours from me, but i tried my hardest to call him every week and keep him involved in my life. he never saw any of my homes, never met any of my friends, and never even saw me drive a car (i’ve been licensed since i was eighteen). i cried to him almost every week, begging him to get sober.

he never recovered from my parent’s divorce, and for that i feel so sorry. he called my mother his soulmate and always spoke in past tense- talking about when me and my brother were little. he would tear up when talking about the first time he ever saw me in the hospital after my mother gave birth, and he was vocal about the fact that i was his favorite. we shared a lot of the the same interests and always had fun when talking.

when my mom made a suicide attempt two years ago he was there for me almost everyday, calling me despite the demons he was battling with himself.

the last time i spoke to him was thursday- a week from the day he died. he told me that he almost called a treatment facility but he got tired and took a nap instead. his doctors appointment was today at one and he was going to ask to be admitted and then go to a rehab facility. i told him i’d send him money while he was in there- he hasn’t been able to hold a job since i was still in high school.

my dad was a chef. a damn good cook- classically trained in french cooking. he had the loudest laugh i’ve ever heard, so much so that it used to make me cry when i was a baby. we used to wear matching costumes and he’d sign me out from school on halloween and call me out the day after. he took me to my first concert, but he couldn’t afford both the gas and the tickets (so i paid for the gas with my pocket change at the age of thirteen). he wore adidas strictly- shell toe was his favorite.

when i was little my dad was on night duty while my mom was away: tucking us in, reading us books. he refused to read to me and walked out the door but not before saying “bed bugs and stuff”. i thought it was so funny. it became our saying. every night we spent with each other we said “bed bugs and stuff”. so that was my last send off to him. i hope he’s finally resting well and isn’t depressed, ashamed or lonely anymore where he is.

he died in his sleep. they found a solo cup filled with vodka next to his bed and i can’t stop thinking about the fact that he was going to get help today. he was yellow due to jaundice. what a cruel world.

[darylsdelts]

IT’S A LOT

This is an old Drabble I wrote on wattpad so I thought I’d post on here <3

Darylxfemale!reader

Warnings: anxiety/panic attacks (reader)

Kinda based off personal experience so it might not be relatable to everyone

Today was supposed to be your day off, the day you usually lay around in your home in Alexandria with your boyfriend, Daryl, although he never really lays around. He's one of those people who has to always be doing something or he'll get fidgety, not you though, you'll happily lie in and stay in your pyjamas all day.

That's what you were supposed to be doing today, but no. Rick had knocked on the front door of your and Daryl's shared house at 6am, he had wanted Daryl to go hunting since the group was running low on food.

You had wanted so badly to lay in bed with Daryl for at least two more hours but Daryl had obviously agreed... it was either that or starve so you guess it's fair enough.

However, you insist you go with him, you usually wouldn't since you're not much of a hunter but the night before was a tough one for Daryl, he was upset after opening up to you about something that is quite frankly nobody else's business but yours and his.

Anyway... now you're treading lightly behind Daryl whilst he leads the way through the forest. He's tired and you can tell by the way he's walking, the way he's talking, the way he's breathing, blinking, sighing, and the way he keeps checking you're right behind him. Nobody else would be able to notice though.

You start to think of all the things that nobody, except Daryl, would notice about you.

Back at the quarry, your anxiety was really hard to deal with but no one ever noticed, you never brought it up or hinted at anything. Daryl had clicked onto your habits from the get go though, things you didn't even notice yourself. For example, he said he could tell when you were thinking too much because you'd clench your jaw repeatedly.

Daryl wasn't really familiar with the term "anxiety" even though you reckon he suffers from it more than most people, he would never complain or say anything but you knew.

The last time you had a panic attack was after the prison, when you and Daryl had gotten away. Everything that happened was "a lot", that's the only way you've ever been able to describe the feeling of your anxiety. Daryl tried his best to help but he's never been around someone having a panic attack before and he didn't want to make it worse, he just gently rubbed your back whilst you had to breathe through it.

But that was a few years ago now and you've had a few since then which has allowed Daryl to understand you even better, and he's gotten to read your body language down to a T. There's no hiding anything from him.

As you walk carefully behind Daryl, you feel your body waver for a split second... you convince yourself it's nothing and keep walking.

After a few seconds, a wave of heat comes over you, starting from your head and travelling to your feet. You exhale sharply and rub your palms on your thighs, one of your habits that you didn't notice until Daryl said something.

A third wave comes over you and you start to feel nauseous and the ground feels like it's moving beneath your feet, your tread slows and Daryl notices immediately.

He turns to face you, he looks you up and down and then he slowly walks toward you.

"You good?" His voice is low and gentle, the voice he only uses for you.

"Yeah M'fine" you reply, there's been plenty of times you've managed to pull yourself together and carry on so that's what you're gonna do.

Daryl knows how you are and pushing you for the truth would only annoy you, so he nods and starts to walk more, straining his ears to listen to your breathing instead of animal movement.

You start to realise it's not going away, you get dizzy and faint, you should sit down.

You stop walking and Daryl turns around again, not wasting a second to get to your side, almost pulling you to sit on the ground, he already knows.

You're sat now, staring into space, blinking slow, trying to control your breathing but the nausea stays.

By now, Daryl knows you're fighting a panic attack, all the signs are there, he just doesn't know what triggered it but he also knows that sometimes it could be nothing for you.

From his experience of you, he also knows that it's a hit or miss whether or not physical touch will help or hinder, so he does the same thing he always does, just to check.

He presses the tip of his index finger to yours and when you don't pull away he holds his palm to your palm, you still don't pull away so he takes your wrist and presses your hand to his chest so you can feel his heart beat and his breathing rhythm.

"Breathe like me, sweetheart... you're okay" he keeps his gentle voice as he searches for eye contact which you won't grant him so he doesn't pry.

"Would pressure help you this time, darlin'?" He's assuming you'll say yes, if you're allowing physical affection then that usually means that the pressure will help. The pressure refers to Daryl applying a small amount of pressure to your chest to help ground you.

You don't make eye contact yet but you give a subtle nod, so he knows what to do. He lets go of your wrist so he can move behind you.

He sits so you're between his legs with your back against his chest, he wraps his arms around your chest and holds you to him, his hands putting a small amount of pressure on you.

He kisses the back of your head while whispering to you.

"Yer doin' so good baby, jus' keep on breath in' fer me... that's it, good girl"

His love for you is so evident and you feel it, it helps and your breathing becomes more regular. You whimper very quietly since now the initial panic is over, you feel exhausted. It may not look like much, to anyone else, you just look like you're sat, with your boyfriend hugging you from behind, but inside it feels like so much and Daryl knows that.

"Ya alrigh', sweet girl? Ya feeling a lil better now?"

"Mhm" you reply weakly and your exhaustion is clear.

"We'll stay here for a bit, Mkay?" He lets go from holding around your chest and strokes along your hair line as you start to shift your body so you're facing him.

"Hey beautiful..." he smiles at you and strokes his thumb over your cheek, your eyes are a lil misty and sleepy.

He places his big hand on the back of your head and pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on your head.

You feel so grateful for your gentle man and the fact he knows you so well, you didn't have to say a single thing.

"I love you..." you mumble into his chest.

"I love you more, sweetheart... rest for a bit, I'll protect you" he reassures.

"Can keep going, I'm okay..." you don't want to be the reason you return empty handed.

"Ya ain't swayin' me darlin'... close yer eyes fer me, yeah?"

You groan but do as your told, you know he means it.

"That's it baby, it's all alright"

You feel him gently stroke your hair as you drift into relaxation.

[floralcyanide]

sᴛᴜᴅʏ sᴇssɪᴏɴ ― ʙᴏʙʙʏ ᴍᴏᴄʜ

bobby moch x gn!reader

Bobby asks you to be his tutor, which leads to something more.

✣ warnings: kissing, none other than that

✣ word count: 1k

✣ author’s note: I've been wanting to write for bobby for a while (: so here is a little something for our fave short king

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

“Bobby?”

You snap your fingers in front of his face as his gaze has lingered on you for too long, “Bobby.”

“Yeah?” he asks, snapping out of it.

“You were staring. Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” Bobby rubs his hands on his thighs, “Uh, everything is good.”

“Right,” you chuckle, “Let’s get back to studying.”

Bobby is a part of the rowing team for your university and needs some help in one of his classes in order to stay on said team. So he comes to you, as you’re the best in the class, for help. Plus, he thinks you’re cute. It’s a great way to get to know you and pass this class, so it’s a win-win situation. Except Bobby doesn’t know how to talk to girls without fumbling. Sure, he can get his friends to talk to them and even give them advice. But Bobby following his own advice is hard, considering he’s stubborn. 

Bobby hadn’t gotten much sleep last night despite a hard practice that day and seemed a little out of it. Hence, he had been staring right through you as you read a page of the textbook aloud. You can tell Bobby hasn’t gotten enough rest because he’s hardly paying attention and trying his best to stay awake. He had admittedly slept through most of his classes today. When you look over and notice Bobby struggling to keep his eyes open, you sigh and close the textbook.

“Bobby, go to your dorm and get some rest, would you? You’re gonna wither away,” you frown.

“No, I’m fine. I swear.”

“You’re literally falling asleep with your eyes open. Go to bed,” you cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Bobby when he opens his mouth to argue, but he quickly shuts it when he sees your expression.

With a defeated sigh, Bobby pushes himself off the old and creaky library chair and stands up, “I guess you’re right. Can we meet later today or maybe tomorrow?��

“Sure,” you say, “If you want to later, just come by my dorm building after you wake up and have someone knock on my door.”

Sure enough, later that evening, one of your dormmates knocks on your door during your nightly reading.

“Yes?’ you call through the door.

“Someone is here for you,” your dormmate giggles.

“Is it Bobby?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t give a name. He’s kinda short, but he’s cute, though.”

“Okay, thanks,” you say, ignoring your dormmate’s comment, “Tell him I’ll be down in a minute.”

When you throw on some clothes and go downstairs to outside, Bobby is standing there patiently, books under his arms. 

“Sorry that it’s so late. I was more tired than I thought and slept all day,” Bobby rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s okay. Do you still want to go to the library?” you ask.

“Yes, if that’s okay with you,” Bobby says.

The two of you walk to the campus library, talking about Bobby and his stunning progress with the rowing crew. 

“You should come watch us tomorrow if you aren’t busy,” Bobby suggests.

“I’d love to,” you grin.

You’ve always found rowing quite interesting, considering it took a lot of strength to do the sport. You know Bobby is the coxswain, so he calls out to his teammates to tell them what to do. Rowing isn’t the only thing about Bobby that interests you. Despite his small stature and emotionless resting expression, Bobby is kind and smart- he’s also quite handsome. You wonder why he doesn’t have someone on his arm yet. 

When you arrive at the library, the two of you go over the materials in today’s class that Bobby had slept through. You both dive into the readings, your noses in your respective books. You would occasionally look up and catch Bobby staring at you, and you’d hurriedly look away. It became almost a game, seeing if you could catch the other staring. You would giggle and then hurry to cover it up with a cough or the clearing of your throat. It’s nearing midnight now, and you had to be up early for class in the morning. 

“Ready to turn in?” you ask Bobby, who is actually distracted by his reading this time.

“Oh,” he blushes, closing his textbook, “Yeah, we probably should.”

The two of you walk back to your dorm in comfortable silence. It isn’t until you’re right outside the building that Bobby decides to speak up.

“You’re really cute, by the way,” Bobby cringes at himself, “I just thought you should know that.”

You smile, feeling your ears burn at the compliment, “Thank you, Bobby. You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

Bobby waves a dismissive hand, “You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“No,” you shake your head, taking a step closer to him, “I mean it.”

Bobby scratches the back of his neck nervously under your gaze. You grab his hand from behind his neck and entangle your fingers through his, leaning in to give a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away. 

“Goodnight, Bobby,” you let go of him, and he’s red as a beet in the face.

“Yeah, uh, goodnight,” he nods with a giddy smile.

After that, it becomes a habit to study at the library and then send each other off with a kiss. It isn’t until Bobby works up the courage to ask you out on an actual date that it becomes serious. And at the end of your first date, you dare to take the kiss a little further by nibbling at Bobby’s bottom lip. He allows you to take over, your tongue exploring his mouth. The two of you are hidden in the bushes by your dorm so you aren’t seen by anyone. Your hands find the sides of Bobby’s face as you deepen the kiss. You feel his cheeks burn under your touch as he stifled a moan as you bite his bottom lip while pulling away. 

“Goodnight, Bobby. I had a great time,” you wave, turning to walk away to the building entrance.

Bobby watches you disappear inside the dorm and is thankful he had the courage to ask you to be his tutor. 

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 2

read part 1 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: light angst, mention of drugs/alcohol

a/n: hey, thanks for all the love on the last part! i promise I'm not churning these out like crazy lol, i wrote the first chapter way before posting it here. not a lot of ethan in this one because we have to flesh out the lore, but i make up for it with some tara/sam angst! yippee!

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

“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it.” Chad’s eyes are wide with amazement. “Y/N, at a loss for words? Because of a guy?”

“Dude, I’m telling you, it happened!” Tara said.

I was beginning to get tired of this back and forth. 

Friday nights were usually fun, the whole gang gathered in Tara’s room, getting ready for the night’s festivities (in this case, a house party at the Woodsboro Community College), but today, my friends seemed more interested in rehashing today’s lunchtime events.

“Do you know what his name was?” Anika asks.

“Oh god, please don’t egg them on,” I groan. “No, I didn’t catch it.”

“Hey, he didn’t throw it, either,” Tara teases. “He was probably just as nervous. The dude could barely even make eye contact with her.”

Chad sits up on Tara’s bed. “What did you say he looked like?”

“Uh, tall, really tall. Curly brown hair? He was new, I’d never seen him before. And neither had Tara, so don’t chalk it up to my being a newcomer.”

“Wait. Oh my god.” Mindy suddenly chimes in. “I know who he is. His name is Ethan Landry, he’s in my American History.”

I can’t lie; I’m excited by this. “Really? Why haven’t we seen him before?”

“Because he just moved here.” She grins. “Hey, I thought you’d given up on high school boys, anyway.”

I tinge pink. “Never say never, I guess?”

Chad and Tara whoop. Anika rolls her eyes at them. “Do you think he’ll be there tonight?”

I scoff. “I doubt it. We already have to lie about being college students to get in, anyway.”

Tara’s eyes glimmer. “Hey, you never know. That means you have to get extra dressed up for tonight, just in case he’s there.”

I am not prepared for one of Tara’s evil-genius machinations, especially not a makeover. But I entertain the fantasy for a second too long, and she takes my silence as agreement. 

That’s how I find myself in one of Tara’s old dresses, a strappy black thing that hangs too low on my chest for my liking. After fighting over it for a long while, she eventually agrees to add a long-sleeved top underneath, if only to stop my whining.

Yet even though my getting-ready process was the most involved, I’m still the first one downstairs, which is typical. I’m debating whether or not to run for the hills and go home when Sam comes through the front door.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Is Tara upstairs?” She sets down a few bags of groceries and turns to lock the four deadbolts freshly nailed to the door. 

“Hey, Sam. Yeah, she is. I think everyone will be down soon.”

There’s an uncomfortable energy between us. Sam has never liked me much. Not because of my character or anything, as Tara has reassured me, but she’s overly wary of outsiders ever since last year’s attack. I try not to blame her, but I can’t help but feel a little hurt when she keeps her distance, giving me a once-over instead of asking about my day.

The tension is broken when I hear the rest of the gang come down the stairs. Sam smiles when she sees Tara, but it fades when she notices that we’re all dressed up. “Hey, Tar, where are you guys going tonight?”

Tara shifts her weight from foot to foot. “My friend at Woodsboro Community College offered us an in, so… we’re taking advantage of our youth?”

Sam’s face darkens. “No. No way, Tar. You remember the last time someone had a party around here? We nearly died.”

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” Tara groans. “You were out of my life for five years now you can’t let me be alone for five minutes..”

I look at Chad, uncomfortable. He slightly shakes his head at me– better not to interfere.. Still, I feel like I have to say something. “Hey, Tara, maybe she’s right, we could just–”

Tara whips around to glare at me. “You’ve got to be kidding, Y/N. Butt the fuck out.” Her words sting, but I step back and sit on the couch.

“I’m not interested in living in the fucking past, Sam,” she continues. “I’m not gonna let what happened to me for three days define me for the rest of my life.”

Sam is quiet. I expect her to snap, to yell at all of us, but she just stares at Tara for a few seconds.

Finally, she picks up her bag again. “Alright. Fine. Go to the party, bring your taser, or not, I don’t care. I won’t be here when you get back.”

Tara’s eyes widen. “Wait, Sam. Wait. I’m sorry, I–”

“No, it’s really fine.” She glances around the room, where the rest of us are trying to blend into the shadows. “I hope you guys have fun. If some psycho killer tries to get you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With that, she marches upstairs, and I hear her bedroom door slam and lock. 

No one knows what to say. Tara turns her back, and I see her wiping away angry tears. Without looking at us, she opens the front door. “Okay! Who’s ready?”

“Tara, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Anika says. “We can stay back if you want, I mean–”

“Nope! What I want is to get so shit-faced I don’t remember this conversation. Let’s go.”

My stomach still feels hollow, but I silently follow Tara out of the door. Anika and Mindy follow close behind. 

Chad takes a second before making up his mind. He grabs his keys. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go, then.”

[daddyy333]

Ari Levinson fluff

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 1.5k

warnings: talks about periods, period cramps, reader is embarrassed about her period, ?

summary: Y/n tries to hide her period for her boyfriend Ari, but he always finds out the truth, and he’s not happy about it.

“Babe! Come on, mama, we got a busy day, what are you doing still in bed gorgeous girl?” Your loving, adorable bear cub of a boyfriend said as he came in. You sighed and sat up, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry, I’m just…I’m a little tired today I couldn’t really sleep” you said and he sighed.

He sat down, kissing your head as he handed you a cold glass of water. You gulped the thing down and he asked “what’s going on? Are you sure you’re alright?” You nodded and smiled softly, patting his face.

He shook his head, a gorgeous grin peeking out of his full beard. He tapped your thigh and said “I want you out of this bed and ready to make beds for me in 15 minutes or you’re gonna be in trouble, baby” “ooh, really?” You challenged jokingly and he stood up, kissing your cheek.

“Yea, I’ll spank you” he threatened, a goofy grin telling you he wasn’t even slightly serious and threw a t-shirt at you, finding a pair of shorts and tossing those over too. You giggled and shook your head, watching him blow you a kiss.

You caught it, placing it right over your heart and he winked at you, running over to the kitchen to continue helping with breakfast. You sighed, falling back into bed.

You started your period last night and went to bed early so you could deal with the cramps and hopefully fall asleep before Ari came to bed but you had to fake sleep until you heard his gentle snores and spent majority of the night squirming around and trying to breathe through the pain. You had no way to relieve the pain out here, so all you could do was suffer and wait it out.

You didn’t want to bother Ari with these stupid girl problems, there are far more important things going on than your period cramps. You’re here to save lives, not whine about being in pain for just a few days.

You got up a few minutes later and got dressed, brushing your teeth and throwing your hair up in a messy bun. 20 minutes later you finally mustered up the strength to get up and start fixing up rooms.

You made beds, collected the laundry, cleaned up the bathroom, and even cleaned up the breakfast dishes and the mess in the kitchen for them. You were exhausted by the time you were done, and it took a lot longer than normal because the pain was unbearable.

You hadn’t seen Ari a whole lot and you were trying to avoid every one in general just because you didn’t want to have to talk about it. You honestly felt embarrassed, Rachel never seems to go through anything half as bad when she’s on her period.

“My love, those clothes you h- baby? Hey, hey y/n what’s wrong?” He said, you knew he was instantly worried because he said your name and his tone was enough to show how scared he was. Your face was scrunched up in pain and you were holding your stomach in some hope that maybe it’ll help the pain.

“I- I’m- ugh!” You groaned, tears filling your eyes. He bent down in front of you, cupping your cheeks and quickly trying to move your hand and see what was wrong. You whined, shaking his hand off.

“Please, y/n, you have to let me see. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” He asked frantically. He was worried someone would get to you and hurt you because of your relationship to him or your job or any number of reasons to be quite honest.

“No, n-no, I’m okay! I-It’s…It’s stupid, Ari” you said, taking a deep breath and slowly opening your eyes, wiping away the tears. His eyebrows furrowed and he said “y/n! Why are you hiding something from me? I can see something is wrong- baby, you’re scaring me!”

“It’s just my period, Ari! It’s nothing, I’ll go get the laundry” you said, voice shaky and hands also shaky as you stood up slowly and tried to walk away. He stopped you, one hand on your arm and the other resting on the small of your back as he said “sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?” You said quietly, you almost weren’t sure Ari knew what a period was, he didn’t seem like a guy who was very educated on women’s body’s, at least to you. “Why did you tell me you were having bad cramps? Is that why you stayed in bed late this morning? God, I knew something was off” he said and you cleared your throat.

“Ari, it’s stupid, and I’ve been going through this for years. I can still do my job, I’m fine” you said and he rolled his eyes. He scooped you up, making you jump a little as his strong arms plucked right off the ground in the blink of an eye.

He carried you to your room as he said “why would you say something like that, huh? I don’t care if you think this is something stupid, I think it’s serious. You’re in pain, my gorgeous girl, and just because a problem specific to girls doesn’t mean it’s not my problem at all. You're the love of my life, damn it, and I’m gonna take care of you cause it’s my job”

He laid you down in the bed, pulling your shorts off cause he knew you like to sleep without pants on, he swore it was just to tease him but you’d been sleeping that way since you were a teenager. “Next time, I want you to tell me when you’re in pain like this. God, I’m a terrible boyfriend. You shouldn’t be working, you need to rest. You want me to find you some snacks? We still have some strawberries from the shipment” he said and you smiled a little.

You shook your head and said “it’s- it’s fine, really” “babe, you’re killing me! Let me help you, darn it” he said and you both laughed. He leaned down and kissed you, caressing your stomach softly and you groaned into his mouth.

He pulled back and you tried to play it off but you couldn’t, a hiss escaping your pretty lips as you felt a few spasms in your back as if what was already happening wasn’t enough. “Awh, baby girl” he said and you shook your head, letting your head fall back onto the pillow.

He laid down next to you and you sighed, grabbing your back and trying to massage the pain away. He brushed your hair back and said “how can I help you?” “You don’t…think it’s gross? Or annoying?” You asked and Ari scoffed.

He sat up slightly, leaning against the wall as he said “y/n- what are you talking about? Why would I think it’s annoying? You can’t control it, and I’m an amazing boyfriend so obviously I’m gonna be here for you and take care of you. So, I ask again. How can I help?”

“I don’t know, Ari…I don’t think there’s anything to do but…suffer” you said and he smiled sadly. He cupped your cheeks and said “then suffer in my arms, yea?” You shook your head and nuzzled into his chest, placing a hand on his waist.

He kissed your head and said “how bad is it, huh?” “Well, I’m okay for now…but it’s pretty bad because it’s like the first day and stuff” you said and he nodded. You sighed and brushed his hair behind his hair, before Max ran in.

“What the hell are you doin, asshole? We got things to do, quit trying to risk a pregnancy in here” he said and you giggled, whilst Ari blushed in embarrassment. He chuckled and said “if you take care of my shit for me for the next few days I’ll do whatever you want for a week”

“Babe,” you said and he covered your mouth, making you squeal. Max rolled his eyes and said “whatever” before he left, closing the door for you. He moved his hand and you shook your head, smiling up at him. You could never actually be mad at him.

He caressed your cheek and your eyes squeezed shut, a pain sigh leaving your lips. “Sweetheart?” he said and you groaned, burying your face into his chest. He caressed your waist, letting you squeeze his arm.

“I’m sorry, babe” he whispered softly, running his hands through your hair. You whined and said “It’s…just- it’s so a-annoying” “I know, I know,” he said and kissed your head a few times.

You groaned, relaxing slightly as you took in a deep breath. “Just try to breathe through it, yea? I’m right here, my sweet girl” he said and you nodded, smiling a little. You cuddled closer to him and he held you tight, massaging your back just right, helping you fall asleep in his strong arms.

Taglist: @mrsevans90

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Ari Levinson

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[crow2222]

I don't know when I've written enough to comfortably start posting the chapters of this fic,

but here's a little snippet of the first chapter under the cut because I just wanna share some of it already

“I’ll be back in the evening, later Ponyboy.”

Sodapop ruffles my hair as he says his goodbyes to me for the evening. I hate how it feels without grease in it, but I haven't had the energy to put it in. That's only if I use Two-bits's tub too, and I don't think I can handle that like Sodapop can.

Soda was grinning at me but his sad eyes were telling me the truth. He’s been working like a dog day and night for the hospital bills. I just wish I could help- if only my limp wasn’t making it so damn annoying to walk.

He walks away from me, going into Two-bit's room; Darry was sleeping there, or at least he's meant to be asleep. If he could get out of bed, I feel like he'd be like those cats scratching at the door that have been left out in the rain, begging to be let in; or in his case, let out. He’s gonna go downright crazy soon from staying in bed, but he has to. Doctor’s orders. He hasn't given himself a proper chance to heal ever since we got out of the hospital. We just about had to tie him down to the bed last night, he kept trying to clean all around Ms Matthews house; it was a bit of a funny sight sure, seeing my big brother on his tippy toes trying to clean the top of a fridge, but his scrunched up, pained face, took all the laughter out of me.

He felt guilty for staying here indefinitely, hell I do too, but I'm taking this gift without a second thought because we sure need it.

But at least Darry got assigned Two-bit’s bed. I had to sleep in Karen’s obnoxiously pink room; being a fourteen year old greaser in a preteen girl’s frilly pink bed was embarrassing, to say the least. I have a feeling there was a slight advantage to our rooms though- aside from the bed sizes, Karen's room didn’t stink like Two-bit’s room, it's no wonder Darry can't fall asleep.

Even if all I did today was walk to the kitchen, make a bologna sandwich and plant my ass on the couch; I sure felt tired.

I settled my head deeper into the dirty couch pillow, it don't smell too good and it was lumpy but it was better than the hospital bed so I hugged it gratefully. My vision goes as I close my eyes, starting to think about why all this had all happened in the first place..

…

I wonder what it’s like in a burning ember..

I stared at my cigarette’s burning, almost glowing end instead of reading the book I had propped wide open in my lap, the words sitting patiently right in front of me. It was some dusty old book I’ve read multiple times- if the bent corners weren't already enough to tell, the scribbles of my thoughts would be. None of that has never stopped me from reading a book before though. If you knew my family, or what side of the town we’re on, you’d know that we don’t have a good flow of money; I just have to make do with what I have.

Unless Darry was in a good mood and let me go out on a trip to the library; I’d pretend the books I’ve had sitting around for years weren't mine, dust never collected on the books in the first place from how often I handle them. Instead, I’d pretend they’re brand new books I’ve bought recently, ignoring the highlights and anecdotes in between the lines I've made myself.

I was smoking peacefully in my room, which wasn’t exactly allowed but the whole gang was away for the day, at least for now. Darry would always send us out when a cigarette was lit, he got that from mom; she’d never let anyone smoke in her lovely home, not even her own husband, said it gave her headaches.

Both of my brothers were working and the rest of the guys were probably out in the town causing trouble like the hoods they are, which was the usual. I can’t lie, I really did hate them a little bit for hanging out without me, but at the same time I know I shouldn’t, seeing how it wasn’t their fault that I got grounded. Well, at least not this time.

[dausy]

We said goodbye to our house. Packed up all the rest of our belongings into our 2 vehicles and are currently chilling in a hotel. If we had stayed another 2 days we wouldn’t get our money back for the rest of the month for who knows how long.

Yesterday we went out for dinner with a friend. Today we are going to go get our retiree ID cards and get the all clear to leave. We plan to hit the road tomorrow morning. It’ll be a long 11 hours across Texas. Tomorrow will be our longest day. Gonna go try and visit my grandpa in Houston as I haven’t seen him in years but he always posts hilarious things to my husbands Facebook. The two have never met. Then we are going to visit my husbands uncle in Mississippi and then we will make our way to Tennessee. I’m tired already and can already tell I’ll have to pee every 5 mins. Last time we did this because we are doing 2 vehicles, we found it easier to go old school and talk to each other via walkytalky. Also, my husbands headlights are messing up and we want to avoid driving at night because it’s hard to see.

I’ve already mispacked and couldn’t remember what bag I put my dogs stuff in, where I put my make up, where I put my charging cables etc lol

My dog seems hella confused and concerned.

The hotel we are at had requested we bring our kennel and my husband almost talked me out of bringing it because we’ve never needed it before. But I’m glad I left it out and brought it. The hotel practically had us put it together in the lobby so they could take photos of it. They must have had issues with pets in the past. I’m glad I kennel trained my dog. She hasn’t been in her kennel in a couple years and I literally forgot she was and was real nervous leaving her in her kennel in the room alone. She just went in and chilled. Yay me.

Our next journey is to find a place to rent and get out of my moms house asap because I just learned my brother was moving back home too and I love family and all but it makes me claustrophobic. I’d kind of like to rent a luxury apartment or home in a community that has a community pool and gym but alas..that might be out of reach. I start my new job in December and my husband has a tentative job offer from another company that also starts in December. We did the math on our finances and if everything goes as planned we could actually afford more than I’m comfortable spending. But I hesitate to bank on anything until the money is actually flowing in. I really just want it to be 6 months from now when we have all our belongings back and we are settled into a new routing where we both complain ‘I don’t want to go to work tomorrow T.T”

My husband still wants to try and sneak in a Washington DC trip too until we start work but I dunno if that’ll happen while we house hunt.

Anyway, happy travels tomorrow. I’m going to try to listen to a book I’ve been putting off but probably listen to trash tv podcasts the whole time.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 7 - Spirits, sorrow and surprise

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 6 -- Part 8

Summary: The boys celebrate the beginning of their Christmas break with a drink (or several) at their regular bar.

Warnings: (Vague) mention of blowjob, consumption of alcohol, fluff, some angst? Mentions of domestic violence. Tell me if I'm missing any.

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: This one was fun to write! Lots of interactions between the boys, intro of the next girlfriend, and for anyone who's been curious; by the end of this you'll know how Sy and Dani know each other.

Timeline-wise we're in the weekend after the first 6 chapters. I'd planned for ch7 to be a Charles-chapter, but I have 5 Christmas chapters and a NYE party to write and post (not including this one) meaning I'm hopelessly behind. Please forgive me.

@peaches1958 @keanureevesisbae Sorry if I'm keeping y'all busy ;)

“Fuck me, one more quiz from Laferrier and I’m switching majors,” Charles groaned as he and Walker left the lecture hall. 

“Be glad you missed the last one, that was much worse,” August replied sourly. 

“You aced the last one.” The surprise in Charles’ voice caused August to shoot a confused look at his friend.

“I fail to see how those things are mutually exclusive,” he shrugged, his voice thick with the kind of arrogance only types like Walker or Napoleon could get away with. 

“Whatever, we’ve got two weeks of sweet freedom ahead of us,” Charles laughed. Walker happened to know Charles was hopelessly behind on nearly all assignments for all of his classes, but he couldn’t feel bad. The man couldn’t balance business and pleasure for shit, and all of this was his own fault. It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart - he always passed, and with minimal effort - he was just distracted a little too easily. And he was nothing like Mike, either, who was an idiot when it came to most things, but a borderline genius when you put him behind a computer. 

“Sounds like a cause for a celebration,” Marshall turned up next to Charles, somewhat out of the blue, followed by Sherlock, who looked far more awake and confident than his friend. 

“You look like you could use a drink,” Charles laughed, slapping Marshall on the back. He did look tired - not that that was unusual, but today it was striking. 

“Just handed in a ten page psych-paper.” Marshall yawned. From the looks of it, he’d been up for the bigger part of the night, if not all of it.

“Keppler?” Walker asked - he was careful, not sure if Marshall had forgiven him for last weekend’s little episode yet. “Liebermann,” Sherlock said. The reply was accompanied by a groan from both Marshall and Walker. The fact that she was insanely hot didn’t make up for the fact that that woman was a fucking harpy. As the four of them walked home, Walker and Marshall talked about the paper some more - Walker had taken the course as an elective the year before. Sherlock gave up on trying to convince Marshall that his assignment was absolutely fine after about six tries. 

“What’s up with you and the orchestra-girl,” Charles grinned. Making Sherlock feel awkward wasn’t the sole purpose of his question, but it was a nice bonus - and easily achieved. 

For once, Sherlock decided to forego his regular answer (‘nothing’) and tell the truth: “Her name is Elena, and we… kissed.” 

“And last week’s rehearsal went so poorly because you were imagining what her boobs look like?” Charles rolled his eyes. It’s not that he was trying to be a nosy, gossiping git, he was just curious. Inappropriately so, according to some - alright, according to most. 

“I don’t have to imagine, I know what they look like.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he’d even opened it. Walker and Marshall each raised an eyebrow and half-listened to the conversation between Sherlock and Charles while continuing their own. 

“I’m impressed, Holmes. Mildly, but still. I was beginning to think I’d have to take her off your hands,” Charles laughed. The laughter was replaced by a sharp gasp when five fingers suddenly dug painfully into his shoulder and Sherlock appeared in front of him. Walter and August paused their conversation when they noticed what was going on. 

“You so much as look at her wrong and I swear to you, Brandon, you will not walk away in one piece, do you hear me?” Three pairs of eyebrows were raised at this outburst: It very decidedly wasn’t like Sherlock at all to react like this - emotional and rash. He had a far better handle on his temper than August or even Geralt - in fact, none of the guys had been aware that Sherlock Holmes had a temper. Turns out he did, and it was quite intimidating. 

“Sherlock,” Marshall said carefully, “I’m sure Charles was just joking.”

“I’m quite sure he wasn’t.”

Charles looked at him in disbelief. “You seriously think I’m that bad a friend?”

“I don’t think you are, but I can’t trust you aren’t.” Quite frankly, nobody could disagree with that statement. 

“Solo, you have five minutes to finish up with whoever is underneath your desk right now, we’re going out for a drink.” Leon made a face at Walker’s remark - either he was too predictable, or August knew him a little too well. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t know how to knock,” Leon growled through gritted teeth. Walker barging in unannounced was unwelcome at the best of times, least of all when you were halfway through getting your dick sucked. When August disappeared and slammed the door shut, Leon looked down at the pretty blonde between his knees. 

“Baby, I don’t need five minutes,” she purred, and with a devilish look in her eyes, she returned her attention to what she’d been doing. It wasn’t a lie; barely ten minutes later, Napoleon pulled the door of his room shut behind him. 

“Sorry I’m late!” Mike threw his jacket over the back of the last available chair. 

“No need, we’re grateful,” Sherlock said dryly, “had you been on time, all of us would’ve died of shock.” Everyone laughed at the joke. Nobody seemed to mind that he was the last to get there, but Mike couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about it. 

“Ask Elena what she thinks of guys who come last.” That one earned him a smack in the head from Marshall as soon as he sat down. 

“Don’t get comfortable, you’re getting the next round,” Marshall told him. A round of drinks for the lot of them was usually an odd combination. The beers were the easy part, but the sometimes unusual whims of the guys who preferred something more decadent - usually August, Napoleon, Charles, Sherlock or, God save the poor bartender, all of the above - had on multiple occasions gotten you desperate looks from personnel. Occasionally, some of the more attractive female bartenders had even refused to sleep with Charles because of the tables consistently time consuming orders -  and Charles rarely struck out. 

“I’ll bring ‘em over, Mike, shift’s almost up, anyway!” Anjelica shouted from behind the bar, signaling you to sit back down. She’d been around long enough to know that waiting around by a bar could make Mikey annoying very quickly. He raised a hand by means of a ‘thank you’ and turned back.

“... as terrible as last week, practice somewhere else.” The group laughed at Leon’s remark, and even though Mike hadn’t heard the beginning of that sentence, he could guess that it was about Sherlock’s unusually bad rehearsal from last Saturday. 

“Yeah, what was that all about?” Sy asked. His voice sounded genuine enough, but his face told a different story. 

“Elena, of course,” Mike said - suggestive eyebrow-wiggle included - as he sat back down. Geralt scowled at both of them, annoyed at how immature they were being. Sherlock looked slightly uneasy, which wasn’t helped by the fact that Leon doubled down on the teasing by bringing up the bets that had been made about the situation between Sherlock and Elena. Right at that moment, Anjelica walked over to the table with the drinks and set them down. 

“Can I sit?” She asked. Without waiting for an answer, she sat down in August’s lap and leaned her elbows on the table, dropping her face in her hands. 

“Soooo?” 

“Anjelica, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Sherlock, my friend Isabelle is on the volleyball team with Elena’s best friend Lahela’s roommate Susanna’s boyfriend’s sister Joanne,” Anjelica said with a sickly sweet smile on her face. Reactions to that sentence were divided between the Got Its and Got It Nots - as was proved by Sy’s eloquent response: “Huh?”

Leon was the one to answer, because he saw Anjelica open her mouth and she would no doubt try to explain the whole thing: “If she wants to know, she’ll find out.” Anjelica approved the summary with a meaningful shrug and another smile. 

“Angie…” Sherlock rarely used Anjelica’s nickname. 

“For God’s sake, man, you snogged her, you didn’t murder her mother,” Charles chuckled. He often shared the more intimate details of his life a little too freely, so this was getting on his nerves.

“Charles, when were you planning on leaving for Christmas?” Geralt interjected - he was thoroughly fed up with the entire conversation. His one-on-one with Sherlock on Friday had been awkward enough - and neither had had to worry about a whole table (and the rest of a room) full of people then. Anjelica was about to protest, but August wasn’t having that. 

“Ange,” he said softly. When she turned to look at him, he just shook his head. The look in his eyes said it all. Charles also finally took the hint. 

“I’m leaving tonight, Henry’s driving me and his sister Mary back. I’ll be back on the twenty-eighth, though. Can’t miss New Year’s Eve here,” he shared a meaningful look with Leon as he said that last bit. The conversation quickly turned to sharing holiday plans with each other. Leon was leaving the next morning, and returning on the 27th, just like Marshall. 

“August?” 

“He’s coming with me,” Anjelica answered before he could say anything. August didn’t look particularly happy about the whole situation - no one dared to suggest he was terrified to meet Anjelica’s family, though they did all consider that a very valid reason to be afraid. 

“That whipped, huh?” Mike said jokingly, already preparing to duck in the event of flying glassware. It was probably a good thing that the man was on his third scotch and he was generally a pretty laid back drunk. 

“What about you, Mikey?” Anjelica asked. Mike just shrugged and told her he wasn’t going home, indicating he didn’t want to talk about it any further, and despite being incredibly curious by nature, Anjelica felt it best not to press the matter. She moved her eyes to Sherlock and nodded at him to ask the same question. 

“Staying to practice for the concert,” he said simply. Under his breath, but poorly disguised, Charles muttered some remark containing the words ‘snog’ and ‘Elena’, which earned him a swift kick in the shins from August - which in turn earned August an approving nod from Geralt. 

“Sy?” Anjelica was now genuinely curious about the last few people at the table. 

“Long as I ain’t plannin’ on apologizin’ to ma’s son of a bitch boyfriend, I ain’t welcome,” he growled. From the look on his face, everyone could tell he had no intention of apologizing. 

“Apologize for what?” Anjelica whispered to August, knowing she probably wouldn’t get much of an answer out of him. She was right: he just made a gesture that meant something along the lines of ‘ask him yourself’, so she repeated the question out loud, to Sy. 

“You ever wonder why I don’t use my first name?” He asked in return. She shook her head. 

“I don’t even think I know your first name.” 

“Nathaniel Evan Syverson,” Sy said, “Evan’s the name of my uncle, ma’s brother. He’s alright. Nathan’s ma’s boyfriend. He takes a li’l too kindly to beatin’ the shit out of her for my taste, so forgive me if I don’t exactly like the guy. She defends the piece of shit tooth ‘n nail, though. You can take that literally.”

“Shit, Sy,” Anjelica put a hand in front of her mouth. He said it so casually, as if it was the most normal thing. “What about you?” She couldn’t quite find the words to ask what she wanted to, but he understood perfectly. 

“Oh he beat on me, too. Think I ain’t got a single rib that he ain’t broken at some point.” “No one ever suspected?”

“Oh, school knew. Never did nothin’, though.” Sy chuckled grimly. “Kept beatin’ on me ‘til I grew too big for him to take. Tried to hit ‘m back once…” 

“What…” She couldn’t say anything else. 

“Ma protected him. Ended up catchin’ my fist herself. That’s when she told me I wasn’t welcome no more ‘til I said I was sorry for tryna hit Nate.” Sy had been staring at the bottle in his hands for the entire duration of his story, which meant he was surprised and a bit startled by the arms that wrapped around his shoulders all of a sudden. He patted her arm softly. 

“‘S alright, Ange, but thanks.” He was even more surprised when Anjelica pulled in a chair and sat next to him. 

“Is that why you and August…” She had no idea how to finish the sentence she started, and she didn’t have to. Sy knew exactly what she was asking about. Everyone at that table did. 

“Anjelica, what’s that?” Sy carefully grabbed her hand to get a better look at her wrist, where bluish-purple peaked from under her sleeves. She shook her hair back and smiled at him. 

“It’s nothing, Sy,” she said sweetly, “nothing to worry about.” Everything could have been alright, if Mike hadn’t come into the kitchen at that moment, which made Anjelica turn her head. Sy’s eyes went wide when he saw the four spots on the side of her neck, and he grabbed her chin to search the other side for a matching one. When he found it, he stared at her for a while, connecting the dots as he gently raised his hand to her throat and hovered his fingers over the marks. 

“Where is he?”

“Sy…”

“Where. Is. He?”

“Where is who?” Unfortunately for August, it was August who asked.

“You…” What came out of Sy’s throat was more vibration than sound; a low growl, dripping with pure, unadulterated rage. “I’m gonna kill you.” And without further warning, he lunged forward - practically through Mike - toward August, grabbing him by the shoulders and pinning him against the wall. 

“Fuck!” Mike yelled as he jumped out of the way to avoid being tackled. 

“Sy!” Anjelica was on the verge of tears, looking helplessly at Mike as she reached for Sy’s arms and tried to pull him away from August, “Sy, it’s not what you think!” 

“Sy, let him go, man,” Mike tried. From the look on his face, Anjelica could tell he was shocked. August, on the other hand, looked completely calm. 

“Please let go of me, Syverson, so I can explain.” He said it so matter-of-factly it was almost comical in this situation. 

“If you think I’m gon’ let you justify beatin’ the fuck outta ya girl, you’re fuckin’ insane!”

“Sy,” Anjelica tried again, “that’s not…” He ignored her pleading again. When Sy pulled his arm back to punch Walker, Mike grabbed his arm. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the muscle to deal with a guy of Sy’s size, especially not when he was angry like this. Fortunately, they’d been making enough noise for the whole house to check out the situation, which quickly escalated to a full-blown fight between the two. 

It had taken four guys - Geralt, Marshall, Charles and Mike - to pull the two apart, and they hadn’t managed before Sy got a couple of good blows in. Leon had taken care of Anjelica, who had curled up in a corner, scared that Sy would make good on his word to kill her boyfriend - friend, date, hookup… whatever they’d been back then. What had followed the fight was a lengthy and awkward conversation between the guys about the nature of Angie and August’s relationship, which ended with Sy stating very clearly that he neither understood nor supported the dynamic, but that he’d accept that it was their choice and none of his business. He’d never explained, though, why he’d had such a strong reaction to begin with. 

“Yeah,” Sy finally answered Anjelica’s half-asked question. She gave him another hug - letting him know that she understood now - before walking back to August, who pulled her back into his lap. 

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question: The look in his eyes was more than enough for Anjelica to figure it out. 

“I did.” 

“Why did you never tell me?” 

“Wasn’t my story to tell, Angie.” Anjelica replied to that by rolling her eyes and then turned back around. 

“Alright, where were we?” She asked cheerfully with a hint of that thing women did when they told you ‘it’s fine, do whatever you want’ when in reality, it wasn’t fine and you definitely shouldn’t do whatever you want. August knew he hadn’t heard the last of this yet, but for now, they were going to let it rest. “Geralt, your plans?”

“One moment,” he replied while holding up his phone. He answered it at the table, which Anjelica had found rude when she’d first met Geralt, but now she knew exactly what he was going to say. 

“Sol? I’m at the bar with the guys, can I call you back?” He barely waited for an answer before he hung up. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, “to answer your question: Me and my brothers don’t celebrate Christmas, so there’s no real reason for me to leave here.”

“You have brothers?” Anjelica asked, surprised that this had never come up before. According to Geralt, it was rather a long story, but she wanted to hear it nonetheless. 

The other side of the table had moved on to a different subject altogether. Over the past hour, Sy and Marshall had been looking at Mike, who checked his phone nervously every five minutes. He seemed kind of sad. 

“What’s up with you?” Marshall asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“Dani,” Mike sighed, “we’ve barely talked since last weekend, and I have no idea what could’ve happened or if I did something wrong or something…” If there was anything he wanted to add, it was put on hold by Charles asking about the next round of drinks. 

“Sucks,” Sy said dryly - a little too much, even for his doing. 

“Can’t think of anything?” Marshall half-joked. He raised his hands apologetically when Mike shot him a dirty look. 

“Alright, assuming it’s not you - ow! - I noticed she freaked out when she saw you,” he nodded in Sy’s direction, “what was that about?”

“I thought I saw something! Wasn’t sure though…” Mike said almost triumphantly. Sy looked at the beer in his hands, nervously tearing at the label. The atmosphere turned more awkward with every passing second. 

“Look, Mikey…” That didn’t sound good. In fact, it sounded so bad that Marshall’s mouth fell open when he realized what Sy was trying to tell Mike. 

“You fucked her,” Mike groaned in disbelief. Then, he fell silent for an uncharacteristically long moment before he started laughing and wondered out loud why he and Sy always went for the same girls. 

“Dunno,” Sy laughed in reply, “good taste?”

“The most we can say is that you have similar taste,” Sherlock interjected, “that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s good.”

“At least now we know that Dani has terrible taste in men,” Marshall noted, “sleeping with just one of them could have been a lapse of judgment, but both of these jerks?”

“We can’t rule out charity,” Sherlock chuckled. 

“Watch it, Holmes,” Mike said, obviously faking the threatening edge to his voice. 

“So, we alright, Mikey?” Sy asked with an apologetic smile on his face. 

“As long as it wasn’t somewhere in the past month,” Mike laughed - he clearly wasn’t mad, which made Sy sigh with relief. 

“Orientation party,” he said, “we’re good, then?”

“Yeah, no big deal!” And he meant it - Mike was easy going even on his worst days. 

The boys got louder with every new round of drinks. August, at some point, even abandoned his extreme aversion to PDA, which the others found quite amusing. 

“God, Walker, keep your hands to yourself,” Geralt sneered. It surprised the others; he was usually the last person to care about others’ inappropriate behavior - and certainly the last to ever comment on it. Anjelica, Sherlock and Marshall were the only ones to pick up on the hint of jealousy in his voice. A gust of icy wind rolled into the bar when the door opened, but other than some shivers, no one took too much notice of it. Charles, Leon and Sy, who were sitting on the side of the table that faced the door, saw and recognized the tall blonde woman who entered the room. She was quick to raise a finger to her lips to signal that they should remain quiet, and then made her way over to their table, until she was standing right behind Geralt. 

“You miss her.” Sherlock said when he heard the tinge of jealousy in the dark voice of his friend. Geralt just scoffed and nodded by means of a reply, not looking up from the glass in his hand.

“You don’t have to,” the blonde behind him said. Geralt jerked his head around so fast that any normal human would have pulled a muscle - or broken their neck. Part of it came from the sheer surprise of being snuck up on - that was a very hard thing to do to Geralt, even when he was a few drinks in - and partly because he recognized that voice immediately. He’d been dreaming of hearing that voice this close to him for weeks. Another fraction of a second later, he stood up - without much subtlety; she had to step aside to avoid taking a chair to the knee. 

“Sol?” He stared at her in disbelief. Was it really her? Was she really here? He reached one hand to the side of her face, slowly and hesitantly. Whoever looked closely enough could see that he almost trembled. It was as if he didn’t trust his own eyes. Until his fingers touched her skin. In a split second, he pulled her against his body and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was far too passionate - and involved entirely too much tongue - to be appropriate in public, but the boys let it slide. Even Walker, who clearly fought with the desire to throw Geralt’s comment from earlier back into his face. These two hadn’t seen each other in months - they deserved this. 

“Solveig,” Sherlock answered the unasked question on Anjelica’s face, “Geralt’s girlfriend of… at least two years, they were together when I moved in.” 

“We’re indulging them because they’re long distance and he hasn’t seen her in four months,” August added. Anjelica chuckled and seemed to decide that that little fact made the entire situation endearing rather than gross.

“Five months and two weeks.” Geralt and Solveig had finally managed to tear themselves away from the other and sat down. Unlike Anjelica, Solveig grabbed a chair and sat between Geralt and Sherlock. “And we’ve been together for three years.”

“Three years, today,” Solveig added, “December twenty-second. Midwinter.” 

“A long night, indeed,” Charles joked.

“Hm.” It was Geralt’s favorite multi-purpose remark. This time, it was mostly a chuckle, while the expression on his face suggested there was at least some truth to the statement. After congratulations from everyone, and a quickly squeezed in introduction of Solveig to Anjelica and vice versa, Geralt got up to get his girl a drink.

“Are you staying with us, Sol,” Sherlock asked. 

“For the holidays, if that’s alright,” she looked around the table; nobody seemed to have any problems with it. 

“I’d have loved to see them do anything about it,” Geralt laughed. Everyone shuddered at the thought of having to deal with an angry Geralt. “You’re staying two weeks, then?”

“I’m staying until I graduate,” she answered shyly - it was clear that this hadn’t been brought up between them before, “I was offered a place to finish my master’s here.”

“You never…”

“I didn’t want you to think I did it for you,” she whispered apologetically, “I didn’t want me to think I did it for you.”

“Did you find a place here?” Geralt asked it carefully, but everyone knew he was praying to any god who would listen that she wouldn’t ask to move in with him. Not that Walker or Sherlock wouldn’t be quick to point out that the lease didn’t allow that, but still. 

“I did, I will get the keys on the second of January,” she smiled. Solveig knew exactly what the intentions behind that question had been. Talk at the table shifted to dinner - Mike and Sy were getting hungry, which meant one of them got jittery and the other cranky. Luckily, the bar served good burgers. 

“Geralt, why don’t you take Solveig home to get settled in,” Marshall said casually, “she looks beat from the flight.” Mike opened his mouth to say something but was shut up by a kick in the shins from Sherlock. 

“Don’t you need to eat,” Anjelica asked Solveig with a hint of concern in her voice. Both Napoleon and August answered, suggesting takeout and leftover pasta from the day before, respectively. 

Solveig and Geralt didn’t linger - as per everyone’s expectations. Anjelica wondered out loud whether the guys had a problem with Solveig, which resulted in laughter from her audience. 

“They haven’t seen each other for nearly six months,” Sy chuckled and, after he finished his beer, started taking orders for the next round.

“We owe it to them to give them the house for a few hours,” Napoleon added with a grin on his face. 

“We owe it to ourselves to stay away for a few hours,” Mike snickered. Everyone cracked up at that; truer words had never been spoken.

-> Part 8

[unculturedmamoswine]

Forduary Week 3: Insomnia

Post-series Fiddauthor fluff! Sometimes sleeping is hard. (CW for mention of serious bodily injury, and also for a lil bit of Ford’s ptsd)

There’s nothing like falling asleep on a boat, Ford thinks longingly. He never once had trouble sleeping on the Stan o’ War, unless it was because of some temporary problem, like Stan stomping around their room or pain from a cracked rib.

Now that he and Stanley have returned to Gravity Falls for the summer, Ford seems only to be able to sleep in fitful catnaps throughout the day, sometimes waking by jolting himself upright, filled with the urge to either punch something or run until he realizes where he is. At night, after trying and often failing to fall asleep, he paces around the Hootenanny Hut like a none-too-stealthy ghost, exploring the cavernous, tacky rooms and their contents.

Ford stands at the end of a spacious hallway. In the darkness, it seems painted in grays and blacks. The window at the end of the hall is so ostentatiously large and multi-paned that he wonders if it was placed there by accident. It was probably intended to be the central feature of a house that cost a mere six figures. The window overlooks a healthy portion of deep, black woods, bathed at the moment in bright moonlight that spills into the hallway and pools on Ford’s bare feet. He winces, suddenly realizing how cold his toes are. He curls them into the thick, artfully patterned carpet. He should have worn socks.

Ford’s eyes are gritty and sore. His head aches. His jaw, too. He’s been clenching it without noticing, an old habit of his that’s resurfaced. His tension ratchets up when he hears footsteps behind him. He whirls around quickly, despite the fact that he knows perfectly well who it will be.

Fiddleford is dressed for sleep in sweats and a t-shirt. He moseys down the hallway, smiling when he catches Ford’s eye, in spite of Ford’s overreaction to his presence. Ford smiles, slightly embarrassed to be caught panicking at nothing.

“Good evening,” he says, feeling immediately re-embarrassed. A lot of formality for a man wearing plaid jammies, he thinks in an annoyingly Stan-like voice. Fiddleford only smiles and steps nearer.

“Evenin’. Come here often?” They both look out Fiddleford’s window, shoulder to shoulder.

After a comfortable pause, Ford answers, “It’s my first time at this particular window.”

Fidds snorts. “Can’t sleep or don’t want to?” he asks.

Ford glances at him, smiling slightly. “I’d love to if I could. I think I’m just having trouble adjusting to sleeping on dry land.”

Fiddleford nods. “Did all you could to avoid it when we were young and now you can’t sleep when you want to. That’s irony for ya.”

Ford nearly jumps out of his skin when Fiddleford brushes his hand against Ford’s. Before Fiddleford can do more than twitch in surprise and open his mouth to apologize, Ford slips his hand quickly into Fiddleford’s.

“Sorry,” he says before Fiddleford can. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine, honey.” Fiddleford’s frowning up at him, worried. His eyes are full of concern. Ford likes Fiddleford’s eyes. Although Ford can’t see their color in the darkness he imagines he can, his brain filling in the details it knows to be there. He can see/not see the dark blue of Fiddleford’s eyes and the way they scan Ford’s face. Surely, in the poor lighting, Fiddleford must also be relying on memory to fill in Ford’s finer details. He wonders if the Ford Fidds is imagining has rid himself of facial hair in the last day. Or if he lacks the tired circles under his eyes that the real Ford has. Then again, Fidds was with him today– he knows Stanford isn’t looking his best.

It occurs to Ford that he should perhaps say something. He can’t remember what the last thing said was. Is it his turn to talk? He doesn’t know. Could his tiredness be catching up with him? Shameful. He used to be able to go for three to six days without sleeping.

“I’m getting old,” he tells Fiddleford, who laughs.

“Sure are, sugar, but least you ain’t the only one. You plan on looming here at my window for much longer?”

“I can probably loom anywhere,” Ford jokes. Fiddleford squeezes his hand.

“Come on, then. If you can’t sleep, you can’t sleep, and I wanted to show you my stories. Now’s as good a time as any.” He pulls Ford gently back down the hall.

Ford winces. Soos’s Japanese cartoons have cast some kind of spell over Fiddleford, who can’t get enough of them. He can’t say he has any particular interest in them, but Ford has to keep an open mind. Soos is a man of surprisingly good taste; he introduced Ford to FCLORP, a delightful hobby that Ford wishes existed when he and Fiddleford were young. It’s possible that anime has hidden depths.

Anyway, as crappy as he feels, he has a ready-made excuse if he fails to pay adequate attention.

They settle in the TV room, which is not to be confused with the theater. The theater seats sixteen and is lined in red velvet curtains. The day after he and Stan arrived back in town, they watched an old movie in there with an assortment of Fiddleford’s friends from town. The TV room is next to Fiddleford’s bedroom. It was once an identical bedroom, but now boasts a TV at the foot of the bed. Ford has never seen anyone in the TV room outside of himself and Fiddleford.

The bed is one that came with the house, formerly belonging to the Northwests– big and soft, all dark wood and fabrics in shades of blue. Ford flops onto it and crawls to the left side, wishing there was a couch in the room. Being in bed and unable to sleep feels like a slap in the face. Ford feels that the bed is mocking him, like the beds all do in the No Sleep Dimension.

“Alrighty, you all comfy?” Fiddleford asks cheerily.

“Let’s go for it, Fidds.” Ford tries to inject some energy into his voice, but it’s been over a week since he got any more than two unbroken hours of sleep a night. His ability to be energetic is severely reduced.

The opening sequence of Fiddleford’s show is action-filled and blindingly bright. Ford, watching carefully, gathers that it’s about a group of teenagers who possess the power to transform into large, conveniently color-coded robotic bears. Once the show proper begins, Ford quickly loses the thread.

“So he can’t become a bear yet,” Ford confirms with Fiddleford.

“Naw, just watch! This is only the first episode.” Fidds shifts closer and takes Ford’s hand again. “He ain’t found the razor yet that’ll change him into an Ursa Fighter.”

“Oh.”

Ford watches, stupefied, as the teenaged boy, sans colorful friends, discovers a large claw which he confusingly calls a razor and allows him to change his shape, mass, and chemical makeup. (But only specifically into the aforementioned robot bear shape.) He engages in combat with laser-toting androids and ultimately swears to protect the city from the sinister WitchCorp. When the closing credits begin, Ford wonders what he was supposed to have gleaned from this experience.

The next ten episodes clue Ford in slightly to the fact that context and meaning are somewhat nebulous in this fictional world. Occasionally he asks a clarifying question.

“Is he still inside the bear suit?”

“Nope, it’s converted his body into a bear.”

“Don’t his parents notice that he’s gone for hours at a time?” “It’ll come up later, just wait.” “These girls are happy to become child soldiers on the advice of a complete stranger?” “Well, they were destined to be Ursa Fighters just like Daisuke was, y’see.”

By the time the sun lances its horrible rays into the room, signaling another failed night for Stanford, he is now, if not proficient in the ways of the Ursa Fighter, at least an initiate. Ford’s no less exhausted after half a night spent watching cartoons, but is at least content. Sometime after Towa joined Daisuke in his quest (adding the White Bear to the team), he ended up pressed against Fiddleford’s side, head lolling on Fidds’s shoulder.

Fiddleford stops the stream. He wraps his arms around Ford, squeezing, and presses his face into Ford’s hair.

“Didn’t expect you to watch all that with me, if I’m telling the truth,” he says, voice muffled. “I was hopin’ it’d put you to sleep.”

Ford smiles, unsurprised. “But if I did stay awake, I might be inspired to help you try to work out the finer details of human-to-robot transformation by means of an enchanted claw?”

“That’s what we call a win-win!” Fiddleford laughs. “Though as far as transformin’ folks into robots goes, I reckon I don’t need any help– don’t forget you’re the looks and I’m the brains, peach pie.” They snicker together as Fiddleford squirms down to Ford’s level until they’re face to face.

Ford looks at him. He can see Fiddleford perfectly now, so the daylight is good for something, at least. He can see each wrinkle on Fiddleford’s face, the permanent tan that’s the legacy of decades spent homeless, the crooked way he’s smiling close-mouthed. Ford hopes it isn’t out of self-consciousness for his lost teeth and the shape the ones he has left are in. The longer Ford has loved Fiddleford, the more handsome Fidds has become, subjectively. He assumes it’s that way for everyone in love, but he’s never asked.

“We might as well get up.” Ford’s voice sounds like it’s being dragged across gravel. In all honesty, he has another idea regarding what they could do in a bed that they aren’t going to sleep in, but there’s no reason they can’t have coffee before sex.

“Sooner we get coffee into ya, the sooner it’ll metabolize and you can take a nap,” Fidds agrees. “Come on, then. We got frozen pizza for breakfast!” He’s much too full of energy for a man with his severity of caffeine dependency. Before he can rush off, Ford inches his face forward to kiss Fidds gently. Fiddleford puts a hand to Ford’s jaw, presumably to keep him in place, not that Ford was planning an escape.

Since the age of twenty, Ford has been of the opinion that Fiddleford is a very good kisser, though whether that’s due to the act of kissing just being generally pleasant or to Fidds’s natural talent, Ford doesn’t know. He used to entertain himself in college by imagining finding everyone Fiddleford had ever kissed and having them fill out a questionnaire, with the goal of determining the objectivity of his conclusion. “On a scale of one to five,” he would imagine writing, “how would you rate subject’s use of tongue during a kiss?” In spite of himself, Ford laughs, breaking away from Fiddleford’s mouth. He hasn’t thought about that in years and years.The lack of sleep must be making him giddy.

“Ain’t sure if that’s a compliment or not,” says Fidds, laughing too. “Be honest, now, does the beard tickle?”

Ford explains his secret, hypothetical study of Fiddleford’s past romantic interests, only a fraction as embarrassed as he would have been to talk about it thirty or forty years ago. He’s rewarded for his honesty by the thing Fiddleford’s face does as Ford explains his proposed methodology. His eyes shimmer with emotion, his mouth trembles, and his cheeks flush deep red.

“Ford!” He grabs Ford’s face with both hands. “That’s the most romantical thing I ever heard in my life! I can’t believe you never said anything about this before!” He kisses Ford again, then pulls back, looking almost irritated. “Dangit, if you weren’t so pathetic all sleep-deprived I’d say phooey to the whole notion of gettin’ outta bed and keep you here all day.”

Ford snorts. “Keep me here doing what, Fiddleford? Watching you sleep? Even when we were young you were always out like a light about twenty seconds after–” Ford interrupts himself by huffing when Fidds shoves him unceremoniously back onto his own side of the bed. He always was startlingly strong for his build.

“You can go ahead and talk yourself out of havin’ any fun with your old pal Fiddleford if’n that’s what’ll make you happy, Stanford. I’m gonna get me some coffee.” But he smiles when he says it, not really angry of course.

Ford reaches out a hand to him, only half as a joke. “I hope it goes without saying that I think of you as more than an old pal,” he says, pressing his free hand to his chest. Fiddleford pulls him out of bed and onto his feet. “You’re an old pal with an unparalleled technical mind and a very pleasant accent,” Ford goes on, putting his arm around Fidds.

“Oh yeah, the country charm always worked wonders on you, don’t think I don’t know it,” Fiddleford says, mouth curling at the corner. He removes the arm from around his waist and takes Ford’s hand again. Ford isn’t sure what’s gotten into them lately. Thank god Stanley isn’t here to witness Ford and Fiddleford acting like idiot honeymooners. “C’mon, hon, you look dead on your feet. Coffee.”

Ford grinds his teeth. He wishes he could hang on to his good mood, but it plunges at the reminder about coffee. Coffee means committing to another few hours awake. Or less. Maybe less. Worst case scenario, he will wander off to one of Fiddleford’s labs or workshops and climb into a cupboard to sleep, as if he’s on the run from Bill’s forces and can’t sleep openly in an undefended room.

Best case scenario, he’ll end up in Fiddleford’s bed, dead to the world. And, as long as he’s wishing for things, he might ideally sleep for a good four hours. (The middle case scenario for sleep, incidentally, is falling asleep in one of the mansion’s several sitting rooms. Fine, but not great for his back. A cupboard floor is more supportive.)

Now that he’s standing, Ford’s joints feel like water. Loud, popping, grinding water. His left thumb aches fiercely from his arthritis. His right fares better, the right arm having been cut off at the shoulder and regrown when he was fifty. Each time Ford blinks, his eyes click loudly. He can’t believe that a mere few minutes ago he was considering doing something as energetic as having sex.

In Fiddleford’s vast kitchen Ford sits at the scuffed table and mismatched chairs Fidds has crammed inelegantly against the breakfast counter as Fidds makes coffee and preheats the oven. He realizes he’s closed his eyes when he hears Fidds sigh but doesn’t see it.

“I was thinkin’ about pickin’ your brain over a robot I been fiddlin’ with, but somehow I think your brain may be slim pickings this mornin’.”

“Luckily I’m just the looks,” Ford mumbles. Fidds chuckles. 

“Well, you ain’t holdin’ that side up, neither. No offense, darlin’, but you look like ten pounds of shit in a two-pound bag. If you don’t get some sleep soon, Stan’ll think I’m mistreatin’ ya. ”

Ford grimaces at the thought of being passed back and forth between his brother and his lover to be looked after, as if he can’t do a thing for himself. He opens his mouth, thinking naively that it will express the thought in his brain, but instead it says “Is it a bear?”

“What’sat?” Fidds calls.

“The robot you want to build,” Ford calls, propping his forehead on his hand. God, what he wouldn’t give to be in his bunk right now. Why can’t he sleep in Gravity Falls? It was his home for years. He’s slept peacefully in a miniscule bed with Fiddleford more times than he can count, so the gigantic piece of real estate Fiddleford calls a mattress should pose no problem. There’s just nothing that accounts for Ford’s failure in this department.

Ford feels a hand in his hair, hears the thud of a large mug of coffee being set on the table before him.

“Not every robot and elixir I rustle up is inspired by cartoons. I was actually thinkin’ bout something that’d take care of the Mystery Shack’s roofin’ problems. Poor Soos’s got his hands full, and Mabel told me she and Dipper did the retiling last summer.” Fidds takes a slurping sip of coffee, reminding Ford to do the same, savoring the burning feeling as it pours down his throat and into his belly. “And no offense to those two, but they’re no kinda roofers. Somethin’s gotta be done.”

“That’s kind of you,” Ford says, leaning into Fiddleford’s hand.

“I try,” Fidds says fondly.

[alittlelessalone]

Last night I wrote some soft qijiu for my really long fanfic (progress is happening. I’ll get enough written to start posting eventually!). Because this scene isn’t until part 5, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to share it now.

Giving full context is way too long and complex, but here’s the basic gist. While he was still a disciple, Shang Qinghua ended up saving Shen Jiu from the Qui’s and caused a lot of ripple effects. Now years later, Shen Yuan has just arrived (in his own body) and expects the world to still be like in PIDW. He and Binghe recently went on a mission that didn’t go super well (think the skinner demon beginner mission) and Shen Qingqui had to come and bail them out. This takes place later that evening.

Anyway, here it is! A warning for some light references to past child abuse (Shen Jiu’s) and scars.

Shen Qingqui sank into the mass of soft pillows and blankets. He let out a moan as his tired muscles all but melted into his mattress. To his side, a warm lump shifted slightly to better accommodate his sprawl.

“Who said you could move? Get back over here.” Shen Qingqui rolled over to face his husband and gave him a pointed scowl.

Qi-ge only laughed and obeyed, rolling back in closer so Shen Qingqui could nuzzle up against him. Qi-ge draped a gentle arm across his shoulder, pulling him even closer and rubbing circles against his back.

“Long day?” His fingers pressed into a tight spot between Shen Qingqui’s shoulder blades and Shen Qingqui let out a deep moan. Qi-ge sighed contently at the sound and pecked a chaste kiss on the top of his head.

Shen Qingqui pressed his face against Qi-ge’s chest and breathed in his comforting warmth. “That child is going to be the death of me. How can he be so talented and smart, but also so absurdly stupid?” 

Qi-ge chuckled softly. “Ah yes. I heard Binghe and Shen Yuan ran into a little trouble today and that Ming Fan and Ning Yingying served as accomplices. There were apparently four rather contrite looking disciples kneeling in reflection in one of the meditation pavilions.”

Shen Qingqui sighed. “It’s always good seeing my disciples make new friends and Binghe seems particularly taken with young A-Yuan, but there’s a difference between showing off a little and being just plain dumb. Honestly, what was that child thinking today?”

Qi-ge let out another chuckle. “It sounds to me as though he simply wasn’t. But sometimes that’s just how children are. Not me of course, I was always a model of foresight and patience, but other, less rational and level headed children might behave that way from time to time.”

Shen Jiu pulled one of his arms from his comfortable embrace to reach around and smack Qi-ge none too lightly in the back of his head. It was probably a good thing for his husband that his fan was tucked safely away out of reach, but Qi-ge only laughed at the blow. He pressed another kiss to the top of Shen Qingqui’s head.

“Hopefully Binghe will reign himself in long before he reaches the levels of impetuous stupidity I did, but either way, I know you’ll be there to help steer him in the right path.”

“So long as he doesn’t send me to an early grave first,” Shen Qingqui groused. Qi-ge only kissed him again. “Naturally. But you know perfectly well that I’d never allow that.”

The pair lapsed back into a comfortable silence, filled only with the sounds of their slow and steady breaths. Beneath his head, Qi-ge’s chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm. It was almost enough to lull Shen Qingqui to sleep, but his mind wasn’t ready to rest quite yet.

“Did you hear that Shen Yuan jumped between me and Binghe today?” 

Qi-ge stiffened slightly. “I didn’t. What brought that on?”

Shen Qingqui closed his eyes and recalled Shen Yuan’s terrified face. He had tried so hard to mask it under a veil of bravado and defiance, but Shen Qingqui had lived too much of his life surrounded by frightened eyes to recognize them as anything less. The Qui manor in all its opulent glory had no shortage of mirrors and he was intimately familiar with his own.

“He was afraid I was going to hurt Binghe. He saw me angry and approaching him and assumed the worst.”

Qi-ge let out a long sigh. “Unfortunately that’s not completely uncommon for children either. It’s always sad to see it manifest though.” His fingers continued to trace soft lines along Shen Qingqui’s back, running over the long-since scabbed over whip scars. “At least he’s now in one of the best places he could be to start healing now.”

Shen Qingqui smiled at the thought. “Cang Qiong Mountain really is very good for that. I never imagined I could even start the process, let alone end up where I am now.” He tilted his head up to press a kiss against Qi-ge’s jaw.

Qi-ge leaned down and gently caught his lips in his own. The kiss was soft and short, but Qi-ge waited for Shen Qingqui to pull him back in with more force. Their tongues brushed, sending shivers down Shen Qingqui’s spine. No matter how many years passed, the taste of his husband still left him feeling tingly and warm.

Eventually they pulled apart once more, although Qi-ge kept their foreheads pressed together. “I’m so proud and happy for you, Xiao Jui. There’s nothing more beautiful in the world than seeing you filled with joy. But I wasn’t actually talking about our sect when I said he was in a good place. Our sect as a whole is wonderful, but it has nothing on him finding you.”

Shen Qingqui’s cheeks grew warm and he buried his face against Qi-ge’s chest once more. “Moron.” He smacked Qi-ge again. “When did you become so disgustingly sentimental?”

Qi-ge gently stroked one of his burning cheeks. “Probably the moment I realized I had someone precious to me whose side I never wanted to leave.”

“Moron.” With his face still pressed against Qi-ge’s chest, he didn’t bother rolling his eyes. Besides, Qi-ge would never buy the annoyance anyway.

“I hope you’re right though. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by wonderful, kind-hearted morons who were willing to stand by me even at my worst. I just want them to have at least that.”

Qi-ge chuckled once more. “Well, as long as our friends and I are around, you should have no shortage of morons. But I’m sure your disciples can all feel your love. And I know they’re all safe now.”

Shen Qingqui closed his eyes once more and let the weight of the world drift away against his husband’s chest. “I really do have the best morons anyone could possibly hope for. Now what are you still doing up at this hour? Honestly. Go to sleep already.”

Qi-ge wrapped his arms a little tighter around Shen Qingqui and rested his head against his. “Of course, my love. Silly me.”

[whentherewerebicycles]

morning with the pups. I have a headache from crying but I bought myself a small treat (orange scone from panera) and managed to get some good work done this morning. I will be honest I feel Bad still but am trying to ground myself so I don’t spiral off into the deep despair again.

here are five small positive things:

I am being actively befriended by this very gruff middle-aged women’s studies faculty member who was on my search committee. I thought she hated me for the entire Zoom interview and the first seven hours of the campus visit but then in the last hour of the visit it suddenly became apparent that she liked me a great deal and just has a very brusque no-nonsense demeanor. we have been emailing back and forth all morning about this faculty pedagogy fellowship she’s leading and I think we are going to co-teach a couple workshops together. also we’re going to start going on walks together because we live so close. it’s nice to be befriended! and it’s nice to think about work as a place where I could build more friendships, especially with people who are there for the long haul.

my best friend lives so close to me now 😭 it was nice to break up the crying jags last night by going over to see her.

I’m genuinely excited to be an aunt. there is a lot of pain around it too and it is going to take some time to work through that but it will be so nice to have a baby in the family. also I am requesting nicely of the universe that if my brother & sister-in-law MUST have a baby before I do, please let the baby to be born on my birthday so we will have a special aunt/niece or nephew bond forever. I do not think this is too much to ask. ugh my heart hurts a lot but I am being brave about it.

last year I wrote a long letter of rec for my old boss/beloved grad advisor for this major mentoring and leadership award she was up for. she won the award and I guess they sent her the file with the letters attached. anyway she sent me a box of woolf & vita sackville-west books, a beautiful handmade glass vase, and a long letter where she said my rec letter made her cry and cry. it was really nice to hear from her—she’s been dealing with really scary long covid health issues since early 2020 and there was a period of time where she was in and out of the hospital so often with such serious issues I thought she might die. she is doing better now though and she says she’s retiring this year, which will be a huge loss to the university but I hope good for her. idk I was happy to hear from her and it was nice to get a surprise package of books (with more on the way, apparently).

oh friends. to quote that tumblr meme from the other day, they should invent a way out that isn’t through. I just don’t want to do the soul-work of trying to break down this grief and metabolize it and integrate it into my sense of self all over again. I’m just sad, you know? I’m sad and I’m tired of feeling sad, I want to feel otherwise, but it’s exhausting to think about clawing my way through these feelings again. I want to be on the other side of this experience and I thought I was there but I see now that I’m not, or maybe that the grief and painful agonizing uncertainty about future losses is going to keep surging back every time something reopens the wound. I feel like I’ve spent the past seven weeks swimming so hard for shore, and I’d finally managed to haul my exhausted self up onto the beach only for a massive tidal wave to crash down over me and pull me back out to sea. and I know it is just the start. liz will be pregnant soon and my SIL will have the baby and people in my social circles will continue to post their pregnancy announcements online and ugh. ugh. I just have this hugely selfish wish that everyone would hold off for like six more months so I could crawl a little further inland before the next wave hits. this is not a positive thing from the day but I can’t quite wrangle myself into feeling gratitude for all the good things in my life today. I think I’m just going to be treading water for a while.

[lulubelle814]

Just Dizziness - Chapter 22

Arriving back home, we settled back in my room to resume the movie marathon.  This time she put on I Saw the Light.

When the movie ended, it was noticeably late.  Rather than end the night, we decided to put on one more movie.  Sarah suggested Thor Ragnarok, and I agreed.  It was my favorite Marvel movie.  When Odin told Thor and Loki that he loved both his sons, it made me cry more than usual.  The look on Loki’s face was both sad and haunting.  All I wanted to do at that moment was hug and comfort him.

When the movie and mid/post credit scenes were over, both of us were tired between the late hour and the over abundance of amazing goodies nibbled on throughout the movies, and I was fast asleep before Sarah could even make it off the bed.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of thunder.  I attempted to stand up, but a dizzy spell said otherwise causing me to fall back onto the bed.  But that’s when I spotted something that seemed a little out of place tucked just a little under the pillow.  Slowly reaching for it, I managed to pull it out.  It was a familiar looking soft, long sleeved blue sweater.  Bringing it up to my face, it felt amazing and smelled of that citrus and musk I loved so much, but I wasn't sure where it came from.  Maybe it was a surprise from my bestie, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  It was good timing too as it was unusually cold in my room, and I pulled it on over my thin t-shirt.  

It was a little large for my somewhat small frame.  Had I lost weight?  I wasn't sure, but right now, my entire world revolved around this amazing sweater with the smell that reminded me of him.

Laying back down, I was able to easily fall back asleep.

The next morning, Sarah came in to wake me up so that we could both get ready for her appointment.  She noticed the sweater and had no idea where it came from but didn’t want to rock the boat because it seemed to make me happy.

“Hey sleepyhead, time to get up.  The appointment is in about 3 hours, but check in time is 90 minutes ahead, and it’ll take us most of that time just to get there.”

It was a cooler day out today allowing me to wear the blue sweater.  Pulling on my favorite black leggings and a pair of flats, I met her out in the living room.  Sarah was not allowed to eat before the tests, but she grabbed leftover croissants for me to eat on the way and then for her to eat afterwards.  

I noticed she seemed a bit wobbly this morning.  When we made it outside, I gestured to a taxi.  “It will be a nice walk.”  She began to take off and started to stumble.

“Taxi, now.”  I gave absolutely no room for argument.  Sarah didn’t look like she felt great this morning.  Maybe she just didn’t sleep well last night or was coming down with something.  Her breathing was a bit off, but I refused to let her miss this appointment.  The itch in the back of my brain was going crazy.  I had to know one way or the other.

The taxi pulled up to the hospital about 20 minutes later.  Helping Sarah inside, she checked in early for her tests.  The gentleman behind the desk took one look at her and called for a nurse and a wheelchair.  “You don’t look so good.  Let's see if we have a bed so you can lay down.  If we can get the tests started early, we’ll let you know.”

They were indeed able to find a spare bed, and the nurse had a doctor come round to check in on her.  “It’s a good thing your friend had you come in early.  I’m going to run a few extra tests if that’s ok?  Our cardiologist will be here shortly, but I’d like to run a few routine tests just to be safe.”

Sarah agreed and submitted a urine sample.  The phlebotomist then came by and drew a few vials of blood.  Soon after, the cardiologist came by to run his own general tests.  “It looks like we can go ahead and have someone take you to get that MRI done.  Dr. Fell sent me his notes as well.  With your current symptoms, I’d also like to do a coronary angiogram, an ECG, and an EKG just to rule out other possible issues.”

“She’ll do it.”  I responded.

“I guess I’ll do it.”  Sarah confirmed and squeezed my hand.

By the time someone came to take Sarah for her tests, her breathing was noticeably worse, and she was becoming a bit pale.  “Don’t worry about me.  I’ll be fine.  Plus, I’m surrounded by doctors and nurses.  What could go wrong?”

She was wheeled away.  The nurse that took her advised that the tests would be done in succession and shouldn’t be more than 1.5 - 2 hours.  So when it came upon hour 3, I was getting worried.  They finally came back, and Sarah was very out of it.

“What happened?”

“She crashed during one of the tests, but we don’t know why.  We were able to bring her back around, but only just.  Once we get the results back, we’ll know how to proceed.”

They parked her bed and put on the breaks.  Once they left the room, I crawled right onto the bed next to her and gently hugged her from the side.  ‘I should have made her come in sooner, should have made her go see that damn doctor sooner,’ I thought to myself.

The cardiologist finally came in about an hour later.  “Her results have started coming in, and I’ve pinpointed the source of the issue.  It appears she has a rare congenital heart defect that would even make a heart transplant extremely dangerous if she were in perfect health.  I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry.  Unfortunately there’s nothing we can do but make her comfortable.”

I turned away from the doctor and cried into Sarah’s shoulder as the doctor administered some pain medication before leaving.  

I could feel her breaths getting more and more shallow, her heart beat getting slower until it stopped altogether.

“There’s nothing you could have done.”

I cried hard, ignoring the voice.

“I had to show you.  You needed to know that you couldn’t have changed anything.”

Finally looking up, I saw her standing at the end of the bed looking at me, dressed in the same clothes from 3 years ago, the last day I saw her alive.

“When the hospital called and told you I was gone, I know you spent all this time blaming yourself thinking you could have changed something, but I promise nothing could have been done.  You have to stop blaming yourself.”

“I can’t,” I finally responded. “You can.  You have to.  I’ll always be watching over you.”

“You swear?”

“I swear it.  And what’s more important is you have to go back.  You can’t stay here.  He needs you.”

She disappeared from the room along with her body on the bed, leaving me completely alone.  I laid on my side, crying my heart out until I had no more tears left, falling asleep from the overwhelming emotional exhaustion.

Chapter 23