#also this wasn’t supposed to be posted until next week but I can’t wait that long

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

when he comes home early

genre: smut, a mix of texting screenshots and written word

word count: 2 screen shots, ~1.1k just a short little drabble

warnings: cnc adjacent? (reader is scared at first), unprotected sex, pet names, chan is called a god (because facts)

channie if you’re reading this (ik you lurk let’s bfr) ik that your birthday is over where you are, but it’s still october 3rd here. it’s like we get to celebrate twice. (like i haven’t been celebrating all week hehe) i can’t believe you were live for four hours. you’re the sweetest human and i hope you had the most amazing birthday. also, don’t read any more of this post or anything else on my blog. pls don’t perceive me. love you byeee 🩷

authors note: this was so out of my comfort zone. i wanted to push myself to write something that i wouldn’t normally. i originally wanted this to be an actual experience for the reader, with a stalker version of chan, but i can’t write that. i just can’t. so i turned my idea into this instead. :) i had to have some form of prior consent, hence the texts lol. that was the only way it was going to work for me. anywhoooo. happy birthday to our channie! 💗💗 thank you for coming along this journey of channie’s birthday celebration with me. <3 i hope it was enjoyable. :) sorry im rambling, here’s the post:

main masterlist • channie’s birthday celebration masterlist

he did come home that night and help you. but not with that particular fantasy. no, he filed that piece of information away in his mind to save it for later. you wouldn’t really be surprised if he came home that night and did it, now would you? so he waited. and waited. and waited some more until he was sure you had forgotten about it.

and that’s what led to this night. he and the kids had been away on tour for a couple months now, leaving you lonely. but chan managed to sneak away a little early. when everyone else was flying home the next morning, he flew out that night. putting him home sooner than you had expected.

he was at the door of your shared apartment, trying to be extra quiet punching in the code. but he couldn’t control the volume of the beeps, the mechanical whirring of the door unlocking and clicking open.

you stirred in your sleep. was that the door opening? you reached for your phone on the bedside table, the light momentarily blinding you. it was the middle of the night. and chan wasn’t supposed to be home for another 12 hours. you listened intently. and after a few moments of not hearing anything, you had decided you imagined it, dreamt it perhaps, too tired to pull yourself out of bed to go check.

and chan waited. in the shadows of the kitchen, he held his breath, waiting for you to stumble groggily into the kitchen and flip on the light. but you didn’t. he heard you turn over in bed, the frame making a loud creaking noise as you did so. he smiled. he carefully toed off his shoes, and placed his backpack gently on the ground, trying his hardest not to make a single sound. he tiptoed down the hall toward your shared bedroom, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. luckily the bedroom door was already open and he could see you, laying in bed. you were on your tummy, blanket kicked to the side, your arms under your head. you had on a small tank top, and a pair of underwear, the material clinging to your skin in the warm summer night air. his cock twitched in his pants. he had really missed you these last couple of months, and seeing the swell of your ass, close enough for him to reach out and touch, he was already hard.

you moved in your sleep then, grabbing the pillow closest to you and pulling it snug against your chest, burying your face in the softness. his heart gave a squeeze as he realized you had put one of his tshirts on the pillow, and were cuddling it, breathing in his leftover scent.

he loved you so much. and he couldnt wait any longer.

he carefully took of his clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. he wrapped his hand around his leaking cock and slowly pumped himself as he watched you. it’s almost like you could sense him in the room. your body moved more, stretching out your muscles, slowly waking up.

you opened your eyes, and blinked a few times to make sure you were seeing things correctly. there was someone in the room with you. you could see his dark outline at the foot of the bed. your eyes widened in fear and before you could react, he was on you.

he climbed on the bed and straddled your bottom half, his cock resting against your ass. panicking, you tried to flip over, to knock him off, but you weren’t quick enough. he placed one large hand in between your shoulder blades and held you down, pressing your body into the mattress. his other hand came to your face, covering your mouth, preventing you from screaming.

and that’s when you smelled him. chan? was that him you were smelling? or the tshirt covered pillow laying next to you? a bracelet on his wrist tickled the skin of your chin as he covered your mouth. the metal was cold against your skin. his chrome hearts bracelet?

he leaned down, his lips close to your skin and he confirmed your suspicions. “god i fucking missed you.” he growled into your ear.

goosebumps erupted over your body as he bit your neck, sure to leave a bruise. his hand released your mouth and came down to pull your underwear off. they made it halfway down your thighs before he gave up, deciding that was good enough. his long fingers went straight for your pussy and he groaned. “so fucking wet baby. did you miss me too?”

your core pulsed with need. “chan..” you breathed.

he spit into his hand, coating his length, before shoving it into you. he gave you very little time to adjust to him before he started rocking his hips, quickly increasing his speed until he was fucking into you, hard. your hands clawed at the sheets as his hand on your back pressed you down harder. his show of strength had your arousal dripping down onto the sheets.

“fucking take it.” he grunted, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room.

you could feel that familiar feeling in your tummy. “fuck- oh god.” you moaned. “ oh my god.”

“not god baby.” he said. “just- fuck.. just me.”

his hand landed a hard smack against your ass, leaving a red print behind. “you— you are a god t-to me.” you stuttered out.

his hand squeezed the flesh of your ass before spanking you again. “i’m a god to you, baby?” he asked. you nodded against the sheets, though you were positive he wouldn’t be able to notice it.

you were so close, your walls fluttering around his cock. “if i’m god, then you’re my angel.” he panted. “are you gonna cum for me angel?”

“yes! fuck yes!” your body shook as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes rolling back as he continued to fuck you through it.

“there you go, baby.” he cooed. “just a little more. fuck- i’m cumming” he groaned before you felt him release inside of you.

he collapsed next to you, his chest heaving and covered in sweat. his head turned to look at you. your eyes were closed, exhausted. “are you okay?” he asked. “that wasn’t too much, was it?”

you smiled. “no, channie. i loved it.” you lifted yourself up on your elbows and kissed him softly. “welcome home by the way.” you giggled.

he stroked your cheek, brushed your hair out of you eyes, and kissed you again before saying “i missed you so much.”

🏷️: @httpdwaekki (i’m so sorry i forgot to add the tags yesterday! i was in a rush to post this before my therapy appointment 😅)

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[jadedxhearts]

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰

Monet seems to ignore the fact that Law is your husband, constantly flirting with him and insulting you. One evening, after she gets too bold, you and Law make a plan that will let her know he’s yours and only yours.

originally posted on Feb 27, 2023

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!

When you’d joined Law on his trip to Punk Hazard to begin the execution of his plan, you really didn’t know what to expect.

You knew to expect cold weather, at the very least. Or even extreme hot temperatures. But you wouldn’t be heading over to that side of the island.

You also knew that there was some strange scientist guy who lived in the once abandoned laboratory. Law had mentioned him being rather annoying. 

But what you did not expect was for the scientist’s assistant to be such a bitch. The green haired woman seemed to have a vendetta against you from day one, constantly acting passive aggressive and treating you as though you were inferior to her.

One of the incidents, you couldn’t even remember what the conversation had been about; all you remembered from before the incident was that you’d been sitting with Law in the lounge room, waiting for dinner to be ready.

The bird-woman was reading a book, as was Law. You simply leaned against your husband, occasionally looking into his book and reading along. But truthfully, you weren’t very interested.

“Law,” Monet called, “this book is rather interesting, I think you should read it, as a fellow intellectual being. You’d understand it more…”

“More?” He questioned, not even looking in the woman’s direction.

“Hm,” she hummed as though she were giggling, “well, no offense, but I don’t think somebody is smart enough to truly know what this book’s deeper meaning is.”

You knew it was a dig at you. “Excuse me?” You piped up, glaring in her direction. 

“Oh, did I let that slip?” she laughed. “You’re just… you know…”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re implying, but you can fuck off, Monet,” you snapped before turning to your husband. “Law, can we please eat in our room tonight?”

“To think such an intelligent man would want to share a room, let alone his life, with a woman like her,” she muttered. “Odd.”

“Shut the fuck up!” You yelled, grabbing Law by his wrists and pulling him up from the couch and dragging him out of the lounge. 

That was a couple weeks ago now. You’d been avoiding the woman like the plague, seeing her maybe twice since that evening. 

Tonight though, you’d have to face her and her bullshit once again.

—

Caesar had demanded all the “important” people come have dinner together, with drinks and excellent food promised. Some sort of party, you supposed. For what reason though? It wasn’t like any of you had anything to celebrate.

Regardless, you followed your husband to the lounge room, which you found to be more decorated than usual when you entered the room. 

There was a table put out in the middle of the room, plates and wine glasses at each seat. Along with name tags. Apparently there was a seating chart. Great.

You went to check it out, only to look at the arrangement in horror. 

Of course, you’d been placed next to Law. But… directly next to him, on the opposite side from you, was a little card that read “Monet” in a fancy font.

“Absolutely not,” you protested, gaining Law’s attention.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, turning to look where you were.

Then he saw it. “Great. Bet that asshole did it on purpose, too.”

“This is so stupid,” you pouted. “Why can’t we just eat where we want?!”

But it seemed as if you had no choice, so you sat down.

—

Halfway through dinner, and you found yourself somehow not being verbally attacked every five minutes. In fact, Monet hadn’t said a word to you or Law. Really, you were shocked she was capable of keeping her mouth shut for more than five minutes. Maybe she’d finally learned to do so?

Until right as dessert was being brought out. You’d assumed wrongly.

“Oh my,” the green haired woman mused, picking at the pastry with her fork, “this looks delicious, doesn’t it Law?”

“No,” he deadpanned. 

“No?” She echoed, “Not a fan of sweets?”

Law didn’t respond. 

“That’s too bad, I was hoping to maybe take you out on a date, treat you real sweet. Much sweeter than that tramp over there could.”

You slammed your hands onto the table, accidentally gaining everybody’s attention. 

“What’s you’re fucking deal, bitch?!” You screamed at her, staring with an amount of hatred you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling. 

You were shaking, your throat feeling as though it were closing up. And why were you about to cry? Because some jealous woman called you a name?

Monet only laughed, though. “Oh goodness. It seems I’ve upset her.”

“I’m sick of your bullshit, Monet! Stay the fuck away from me and my husband,” you yelled, putting emphasis on the fact that Law was already yours; just to spite her.

Before she could react, Law stood up and pulled you away from the table, out of the room. 

“L-Law! What are you doing?! I need to tear that bitch’s hair out!” You protested.

“As much as I’d love to see that,” Law grumbled, “there’s something else I want to do.”

You had no clue what that could mean. Until you reached the room you shared with Law, and he promptly pushed you onto the bed, suddenly kissing you.

“What’s your deal, Law?! Why are you- oh,” you whined as he sucked on the skin around your collarbone. 

“I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t find that hot,” Law smirked into your skin, “my husband,” he repeated your words from before.

“H-huh? You what-“

“I like it when you’re jealous, y/n-ya. It’s cute.”

“J-jealous?! No, that’s not it-“ you denied his words.

“Don’t lie,” he nipped at your skin to make you shut up. “I see the way you glare at any girls who look my way, how you move to sit in my lap when we’re at taverns and random women approach. And now this…

“It’s hot,” he said, kissing you directly on the lips. “But now… I intend to let her know who’s mine. Whom the only person that can have my heart is.”

“What?” You questioned. His statement was rather sweet, but you were confused, “how? We’re locked away in here…”

“Don’t forget who our neighbor is,” Law reminded you.

That’s right… Monet did sleep in the room to the left of your’s and Law’s. If you were noisy enough, she’d hear, even through the thick metal walls. You knew this because one morning she’d insulted you for talking so loudly the previous night. Naturally, you’d been talking about your dislike of her after she’d made yet another comment about you earlier that day.

Law’s tattooed hand cupped your face and pulled it toward himself, deepening the kiss, and then he began sucking on your tongue. When his other hand brushed against your breasts only to land just above them, holding you down, you let out a soft whine.

“I’m gonna make you scream so loud that Caesar asshole will kick us off this damned island,” Law muttered, biting down on the already marked skin on your neck. 

“Law,” you whined, leaning into his touch. “Please…”

“Please what?”

“Please… fuck me,” you panted, feeling dizzy. 

You didn’t have to ask Law twice. He made quick work of pulling everything you wore off, stripping you down to only your panties before he threw the long fuzzy coat he wore off of himself. 

He began palming at your breasts, squeezing them and brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples. All the while kissing you again, only this time he was fully making out with you, leaving your mixed saliva all around your lips, the loud wet noises filling the air every time your mouths reconnected.

One of his hands left your chest to begin rubbing your covered cunt, pressing his fingers into the fabric of your panties and pushing against them so hard they turned wet with your slick. 

“L-Law!” You gasped, grabbing his hair and turning your head to the side. 

Removing his other hand from your breast, he grabbed your face and pulled it back towards his, locking you in place. 

Deciding you were wet enough, Law pushed your panties aside, gathering your wetness around two of his fingers before inserting them into your tight cunt. 

You moaned into the kiss, bucking your hips into his hand. 

“So impatient,” Law sighed as though he were disappointed. 

He scissored his fingers within you, seeing if he could stretch you enough to insert a third so soon. 

Feeling the third tattooed digit enter, you cried out louder than before. 

Law fingered you at a quick pace, encouraging you to come on his fingers and cry for him. “Come on, cum, you little slut. Cum around my fingers so you’ll scream even louder when I shove my cock in your sore pussy.”

His words were enough to send you over the edge for the first time. You pulled on his hair and moaned into his mouth, lifting your hips up into his hand as you came. 

“Good girl,” he praised, pulling his fingers out of your soaked cunt and licking the juices off.

Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of his hand, he pulled his jeans down and prepared himself for you, revealing his hardened cock as he freed it.

He moved to position himself between your legs, but you snapped them shut. “N-no, it’s too much,” you whined. “Too sensitive.”

“I don’t care,” Law spat, shoving your legs open with his free hand. “That’ll make it better, don’t you see? This way you’ll scream louder, and that stupid woman will hear you. She’ll finally know who owns me.”

You shuddered. You’d expect Law to say possessive things like “I own you”, but you owning him? That was new. But… you liked the way you’d felt when he’d said it.

“Beg for it,” Law demanded, rubbing his cock along your wet folds.

“Ah, fuck- I need you, Law-“ you moaned, “need you to fuck me, fill me up with your cum, please!”

“Fill you up? That wasn’t discussed before,” Law chuckled, the hand that wasn’t holding his cock moving to brush against your clit.

“Y-yes! I need to be bred like a bitch,” you shouted, surprised you could even speak like this. “Breed me so that brat knows who I belong to, please, Law.”

Without another word, Law lined himself up with your hole and began pushing in, stretching your velvety walls. You whined as he began filling out more, before purposely moaning as loud as you could;

“Oh, fuck, you’re so big, Law! I can’t take it-“ you threw your head back into the mattress, squeezing your legs around his hips.

“Yes you can, you’ll take it like the stupid little slut you are,” Law pulled your legs off of his hips and moved them to his shoulders, pushing further into you and deepening his cock so far that you were afraid he’d somehow break you.

As he began thrusting at a quick pace, he used the hand that wasn’t gripping your hip to wrap around your throat. 

“Cry for me, tell me how much it hurts.”

“L-Law! It’s- mmh!” You whined, feeling light headed from the pressure on your throat.

“What? Can’t breathe?” Law taunted you, fucking into your hips even harder now.

After another moment of slowly cutting off your air supply, Law released the hold on your throat and you gasped for air, choked moans sputtering passed your lips. 

“Law,” you moved your hands to grab his hair again. “I can’t do it anymore, I’m gonna-“

“Shh. It’s alright, cum for me, baby. Cum around my cock as I fill you up and stuff you full of my cum.”

“Please, Law- fuck… I-,” you choked out through moans that were nearly screams.

Law grunted loudly, growling in your ear as he bit down on your shoulder, shoving his cock as far into your cunt as possible before holding himself there and letting his hot seed spill into you, filling you to the womb.

You screamed his name, tugging on his hair as you sobbed from the overstimulating amount of pleasure. 

After holding you as close to his body as possible, Law finally let go of you, pulling himself out of your aching cunt. 

“Shit, look at the mess you made,” Law chuckled, turning to grab a cloth from the bed table and wiping the mixed juices away from your trembling body. “We’re gonna have to request new sheets.”

As you regain your composure, you lifted your head up to smirk at your husband. “I know somebody we can ask… they’re right next door, after all.”

“How convenient,” Law returned the smirk, before moving his head to kiss your lips once more.

[sunwarmed-ash]

WIP Thursday/[Sinful Sunday post??]

hey so im gonna be taking time off writing for another job all next week so I'm posting this so you have something to read. DONT WORRY Sinful Sunday will continue, I'll just be busy this sunday and next making that capitalist coin!

This may turn into a fic, it may not. I wrote it right after I finished QAF for the 36th time.

Tags: Angsty steddiegrove, sex work, HIV+ character, violence

"Where do you go at night?"

Steve and Eddie are lying on Steve’s bed smoking weed when Steve asks the question that will inevitably change the course of their relationship, their future, forever. 

"What," Eddie asks, trying and failing for aloof. He thought he had been so careful. 

“You sneak out, every night. Where do you go, when you leave?"

Lying is the only probable next course of action. If he wants to keep Steve in his life that is. The truth will sever everything they once had. 

“Dealing doesn’t exactly fit a normal 9-5," Eddie says. It’s a half-lie. 

"You were selling drugs in Lafayette at 3 in the morning? Do you think I’m stupid," Steve snaps.

Eddie’s entire body flashes hot with the amount of detail in that accusation.  

"What? No! Wait, how did you- hang on, have you been spying on me?"

"Answer the question Eddie!"

Eddie feels cornered, and that’s never a good place for him to be. Because when he feels trapped, he lies, and he can’t stop. He will say anything to cover his ass, even if its just to survive to see another minute. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you..."

Steve scoffs at Eddie’s attempt at self ownership. 

"Why can’t you tell me, Eddie? I mean, after everything we’ve been through!”

Eddie bites into his tongue. He wishes it was that easy. God, does he wish it could be that simple...  

“i can't, not with everything baby. I'm sorry.” 

“Why not?” Steve demands and now he’s angry. His eyes are lined with tears and Eddie can feel the beginning of the end coming like an approaching storm. 

“Because you won't love me anymore.” 

It’s the truth. And Eddie hates to even hear the words out loud. Because its gonna hurt so bad to hear it twice. From Steve’s lips. The soundbite will live with him for eternity. 

“Isn't that for me to decide,” Steve objects. 

“You've already decided.” 

Eddie remembers the shit Harrington pulled on Wheeler when she hurt his frail male ego by just existing in the same space as another man. He remembers the hateful way Steve spits the word ‘whore’ because he associates it with his father and all of his sins. It’s how everyone says the word. Like its poison in their mouth. 

Slut. Hooker. Whore. But that's what Eddie is. Until he can find something that pays better. Because he has to eat. He and Wayne won’t survive an Indiana winter without heat. And after Eddie was banished and then half-heartedly rewelcome into a unstable healing community, no one in Hawkins treats him the same. Weed sales have dried up. No one wants to hire him for any job. Not even the mechanic shop down the street that is desperately understaffed and Eddie is overqualified for. So what the hell else is he supposed to do? Wayne just turned 68. He shouldn’t need to work 12 hour shifts just to barely support the kid he didn't ask for in the first place. Eddie never should have been his burden. So this is Eddie’s way of giving back. Pulling his own weight so he didn't feel so much like a goddamn freeloader all the time. But could Steve understand that? Steve wasn’t stupid, but he also wasn’t, lets say as morally flexible as some other people.

"I can't- do this Eddie... If you’re going to lie to me." Steve says and one look into his eyes and Eddie feels what's left of the tie between them sever. 

"I'm not lying," He insists but its a half truth at best. 

"You're not telling me everything, that counts," Steve all but shouts. 

"You don't tell me everything."

He referring to whatever the hell went on between Hargrove and him two years ago. Eddie and Steve arent the only people different after an apocalypse. Their previous heated rivalry has all but burned out. So has Hargroves own personal brand of anger. They move around each other like chess pieces, always conscious of the others movement to limit interactions at school. But after school? Eddie’s seen Billy’s camero parked at Harrington’s more than it's parked in the trailer park. 

"That's different Eddie,” Steve huffs, scoffs as he pushes his hair back. “and you know it."

"How, how is it different Steve?" Eddie’s never brought it up before tonight. Eddie’s never been one for exclusivity, why the hell should he expect Steve to be?

"It doesn't involve you, or us. This does."

"Right,” Eddie scoffs, “Well, for argument's sake, it is safer for you not to know. For both of us."

Steve is silent for three beats too long.

Here it comes. 

Eddie can’t look at him. His face goes numb before the words can hit his ears. 

"Then you have my answer Eddie.”

It still hits him like a slap in the face. Steve’s done with him. And it hurts so much more than he anticipated it would. 

Eddie knew it was only a matter of time. He knew what Steve wanted in the end, and it was still someone more like Wheeler. A sweetheart. A family. Nothing Eddie can guarantee. Eddie doesn’t have much to say in his defense. So he doesn’t. 

"I'm sorry Eddie,” Steve, obviously uncomfortable in the silence, speaks again. “This is just, too much for me right now.”

"Okay,” comes out of Eddie’s numb mouth, even if it's the complete opposite. 

Eddie knew a clean break now would eventually be better than enduring their relationship fizzling out slowly. But it doesn't mean the inevitable failure of one more relationship doesn't hurt.

-two months later-

“Munson?”

Eddie blinks, of all the people to find him, here, he didn't think it would be Californian transplant, and fellow trailer trash bad boy Billy Hargrove from Hawkins. He just wants to disappear into the pavement. 

Eddie’s feet move to sprint, but Billy’s lighting reflexes catch him before he can. 

“Where the hell are you going now, Eddie?”

Eddie rips away from him. He hates the way his name sounds out loud. He hadn’t felt like ‘Eddie’ in weeks. He’s barely felt like anything. More like Nothing and no one. A nameless face in a sea of sex workers, businessmen, and bar patrons that he cycled through every day. 

“It’s none of your damn business,” Eddie spits, though it doesn't have much venom. He doesn't have the energy. He's sick, he’s cold, and he’s so fucking tired. He still has two more clients he can’t blow off tonight if he wants to have a prayer at ever getting unburied under his last hospital bill. Billy Hargrove and Hawkins and all that past shit is his lowest priority.  

“People are worried man,” Billy says, stopping Eddie from taking more than a step away. “Wayne especially. Don't you give a shit about him?”

Now Eddie is pissed, because who the fuck did Billy Hargrove think he was, telling him about what he should do? Talking to him about Wayne. As if he understood a goddamn thing about their lives! His anger flairs up his cough that only aggravates the pneumonia-scarred tissue and then Eddie’s coughing so hard it nearly knocks him over. 

When Billy moves close to ‘help’ Eddie slaps him off. 

“Everything I’m doing is for him! You don’t fucking know shit, Billy! How could you, you're just a kid!”

And while Billy was 17 and Eddie was 6 months into his 23rd lap around the earth, he felt so much older. His tragic sequence of life events had aged him decades. He’d be lucky to make it to 24 at this rate. 

Billy watches him curiously, putting together pieces Eddie doesnt mean him to. 

“Why did you take off Eddie?” 

“Why do you care?” Eddie doesn’t really think it's concern he sees in Billy's features. 

“Wayne doesn't have anyone else. You scared the shit out of him when you left.”

“Oh and what, you two are bffs now,” Eddie asks bitterly. 

Billy shrugged. 

“We've been spending a lot of time together, yeah.”

Eddie scoffs wetly. Fantastic. Now even Wayne has his own Eddie replacement. A better, nicer son. If Wayne didn’t need him anymore, well, he didn’t have any more ties back to Hawkins. He should be relieved, but instead he just feels empty. Forgotten. Unwanted. Billy had said people missed him, but the only name he offered up was Wayne’s.  

Eddie sniffs up the tears threatening to spill and reaches into his jacket. He takes out the seven hundred dollars and change he’s managed to squirrel away after his last AZT prescription refill and holds it out to Billy. 

“What is this?” Billy looks at the wad like its poisoned, and well, he's not entirely wrong, it's certainly dirty money. But its still green. And that’s all the world runs on. And speaking of money, the man he was currently scheduled to suck off is honking at him from across the parking lot, eyeing Billy with violent intent. Eddie needed to move quick before this escalated. 

“I’m not coming back. T-To Hawkins, I mean. I can’t, so I need you to give this to Wayne for me. Can I trust you to get it to him?”

Billy finally takes the money, counts it, and then his jaw drops. 

“There’s over seven hundred dollars here Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie sighs dejectedly. “It should have been more but,” but you got stupid and believed some pretty, coked-up twink instead of following your gut. And now you get to live with the weight of that decision, forever… “It doesn’t matter. Just, please make sure he gets it. It should cover the next few payments on the trailer.”

Billy looks at him for a long time. 

“What the hell have you been doing Munson?”

Eddie scoffs before the car horn across the street blares loud, startling him right out of his skin. 

“Nothing you want to know about. Just please make sure he gets it, and knows, I’m sorry. For all of it.”

Billy’s eyes lower suspiciously. 

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Eddie shrugs.

“Because it has to be.” Eddie can’t feel anything below his neck anymore. The honk is starting up again. He’s really pushing his luck now. 

“Eddie, come on,” Hargrove begs and why does it sound like he’s actually pleading? Billy’s never had a nice word to say to him or Steve. And now he’s gone for what, a few weeks, and his enemy wants to become best friends? He doesn’t understand this plotline. He’s ready to get out of it. 

“I’m gotta go, Billy. Please, look out for Wayne.”

Eddie leaves the very next minute and sprints across the street, just narrowly avoiding being hit by the semi that blasts his horn.

[frozenjokes]

A Matter Of Fairness Or Maybe Fear

the next part of the mumbomaid au is four separate mini stories that will be posted as one chapter on ao3, but I thought it might be cool to post them separately here (and since this one’s done, I thought I might post it earlier before the rest goes up on ao3 >:D)

This call marked Scar’s 129th over the course of two days, and quite frankly, his persistence was starting to wear at Etho’s resolve. Maybe ‘resolve’ wasn’t quite the right word actually- patience might be better. This marked the sixth day Etho had been stuck in a little outlet away from home, burying himself in the mud day in and day out, and he was really getting sick of it- sick of Joel, actually, and Scar calling him every free moment of the day was getting quite frustrating when he was waiting on messages from Joel.

Etho let it ring. It wouldn’t stop Scar. Yesterday while sending Joel a very long and very angry message, Etho had accidentally declined Call 4 before the first ring concluded, so Scar knew Etho had his phone. Since then, Etho had also accidentally declined Call 7, 68, 70, and 103.

Call 129 ended and Call 130 began. Call 130 did not end before Bdubs rang at the same time, and that hurt, so Etho submerged himself to avoid it. Soon enough, it too was over. Scar’s insistent calling replaced Bdub’s ringtone without pause.

131. 132. 133.

Finally, it stopped, Scar probably running out of time on his work break. Thank god. Etho had enough on his plate without Scar breathing down his neck, but if he was really being honest, being bitter about Scar’s knowledge on his and Joel’s split souls probably wouldn’t change his behavior today. Scar had a habit of spam calling, and Etho did not know him to give up.

Call 134 just a couple of minutes after the 133rd snapped the last remaining thread of Etho’s patience.

Etho pounced on his phone, picking up with a wrathful hiss, “Stop calling me,” before hanging up. After Call 173, Etho was pretty sure this would never end until he grew a pair and answered the phone. With great disdain, he accepted Scar’s call.

“Hello? Etho? Are you there?”

Etho didn’t respond for a while, too busy fuming to speak. “I’m here.”

“Are you in immediate peril? Do you have time to talk?”

“I have time.” Etho spoke every word through gritted teeth. Scar was quiet for a long moment.

“Then hang the fuck up and call Bdubs you fucking asshole. He’s one more anxiety attack away from filing a missing person’s report, and I’m honestly shocked he hasn’t already! He’s convinced you’re dead in a ditch somewhere or kidnapped or something, and I don’t blame him. If you have your phone and you’re not bleeding out on the fucking rocks, there is literally NO REASON you haven’t called him.”

The wind of Scar’s anger left a heavy silence in its wake. Etho wasn’t quite sure how to break it, but he had a feeling Scar wasn’t going to just let him hang up without another word.

“I can’t call him,” he said instead, all too aware that Scar’s assault of his ears would only continue.

“Give me one good reason why you can’t call your best friend and tell him you’re okay. It’s nearly been a week, Etho, come on. The longest you’ve ever been gone at a time is three days, and you told us beforehand. And I swear to god if you say-“

“Scar, I can’t just call him, I’m not human.”

“You don’t have to fucking video call him!”

“I sound different, Scar. I can’t,” Etho insisted, desperation spilling through in sick waves. Scar didn’t get it. How could he make Scar understand? “What if he asks where I am? What am I supposed to tell him? I can’t call him.”

“You do not sound different! At all!”

“I do.”

“I didn’t notice! It can’t be that bad. Over the phone it won’t even matter- I can not believe you’re fighting me on this. Come on.”

“I can’t, Scar,” a soft whistle broke through behind the words, making Etho feel all the more pathetic. He didn’t want to be here. He’d give anything to be home right now, not worried about being seen or overpowered or caught- he’d give anything to go home, eat normal food- He had work too, he had deadlines! He didn’t want to be in this position at all! Etho didn’t- he didn’t want to upset Bdubs either, of course not, but how was he supposed to explain?

“When are you going to be home then, Etho? Because I need to tell him something. I’m going to tell him- at least that you’re okay. Do you even understand what you’re putting him through right now? Would you really rather let him think you’re in trouble than have a difficult conversation with your best friend?”

“I don’t- I don’t know, Scar. This isn’t my fault- it’s not like I want to be away at all! Please don’t.”

“I’m not mad that you’re not home, Etho. I’m mad because you have a phone to call your roommate with and you’re not using it.”

“He’ll ask questions.” Voicing the thought sounded so much worse, so irredeemably meager. He was being selfish, wasn’t he. Scar was right. But Scar didn’t- Scar didn’t understand the fear- the anxiety- How easy it must be for Scar to stand by the sidelines and tell Etho what was right and wrong. He had no idea.

Scar interrupted his train of self righteous anger before it could build further, “Bdubs has every damn right to ask questions! And even then, he probably won’t. He’d do anything to keep from stepping on your toes on issues like this, even when you treat him like shit. I’m serious. This is fucked. This is cruel. Cleo’s worried sick as well- we’re all worried.” Scar stopped with a huff and Etho heard him mess with his hair over the line, “You know what, this is a waste of time. I’m just going to call him.” Scar hung up without another word, lighting a sharp panic in Etho’s chest. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this. But he didn’t want an angry Scar telling Bdubs anything about his situation much more.

He fumbled over Bdubs’ contact, pressing several wrong buttons before finally dialing his number. The phone didn’t even pass the first ring.

“Etho? Hello?” Bdubs spoke, drying the words off Etho’s tongue. Not that he had anything to say in the first place. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready for this. His mind seemed to dry up as well, leaving nothing but static in the wake of his panic. “Are you there? Etho?” Bdubs’ voice was faint. Terrified.

Sudden guilt wracked his body, physical in its pain like being caught in the middle of a head-on collision. “I’m here,” his voice shook, but he was hardly aware of it, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Bdubs was quiet, the silence crushing, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

Neither of them spoke, tension thrumming through the air just as clear as audible sound. Etho didn’t think he’d ever be able to breathe again. This was so much worse than he’d ever imagined this conversation going, and he had imagined it.

…

Bdubs sobbed, and all at once Etho crumbled. Mermaids didn’t have the right anatomy to cry, but Bdubs didn’t question the strained noises of distress that bubbled out of Etho’s throat. Bdubs never did question anything, did he? Not to do with Etho’s disappearances. Not for years.

That wasn’t really fair at all, was it.

That wasn’t fair at all.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jessica Valenti at Abortion, Every Day:

Some good news from the Supreme Court this morning. We’ve been waiting on a ruling in FDA v. Alliance for Hippocratic Medicine, the suit challenging access to mifepristone, the first medication in a two-drug regimen to end a pregnancy. The justices ruled unanimously that the plaintiffs—a group of anti-abortion doctors and organizations—lacked standing to challenge the FDA’s regulations on the abortion medication. That means access to mifepristone remains the same. What’s important to know is that this is a temporary win. There are other similar cases making their way through the courts, and the ruling itself gives some hints as to what’s coming next. So while we celebrate—which we absolutely should do!—let’s also keep an eye towards the future.

For right now, there’s no overstating how important this decision is for Americans seeking abortion care. Since Roe was overturned, the use of abortion medication has increased drastically: the pills account for 63% of abortions, up from 53% in 2020. And access to the medication, along with telehealth, have prevented the post-Roe care crisis from being even more devastating than it already is. Studies show at least 8,000 people a month in states with bans are having the medication shipped to them from pro-choice states. That’s why anti-abortion groups are so intent on restricting access to the medication; they know that the pills have been a saving grace for those in anti-abortion states. The medication also undercuts their claims that abortion is harmful; it’s much harder to rail against the supposed danger of abortion when women are able to end their pregnancies safely in their homes. That didn’t stop them from trying, though.

The Anti-Abortion Argument

While anti-abortion groups want to eradicate access to abortion medication entirely, this case specifically challenged FDA regulations that made mifepristone more accessible—like telehealth options, rules broadening who can prescribe the pill, and allowing the medication to be used up until 10 weeks of pregnancy. A negative ruling would have meant the drug would only be approved through seven weeks of pregnancy, the medication would have to be prescribed and picked up in person, and mifepristone would be banned from being mailed or prescribed via telehealth. Rolling back access in that way would have been devastating. Without the ability to have pills shipped to them, patients in states with abortion bans would be stuck—unable to get the care that they need without leaving their state. In pro-choice states, doctors who are already inundated with out-of-state patients seeking procedural abortions would have been even more overwhelmed; and patients across the country would face increased and potentially dangerous delays to care.

Again, that’s why the immediate impact of this ruling is so incredibly important; access to abortion medical remains unchanged. The groups behind the legal challenge—including the American Association of Pro-Life OBGYNs (AAPLOG), whose president I profiled last week—claimed that mifepristone is dangerous to patients. They used dubious studies, including some that were retracted by their publisher, to support that claim. The truth? Mifepristone is effective and extremely safe. In fact, it’s safer than Tylenol. That said, it wasn’t anti-abortion activists’ awful science that ended up losing them the case, but their legal standing to bring the challenge to begin with. Anti-abortion doctors argued that they had legal grounds to bring a suit because they themselves were harmed by seeing the way patients were supposedly hurt by mifepristone. [...]

Just because SCOTUS ruled that these groups and doctors don’t have standing doesn’t mean that other anti-abortion activists can’t bring the same case. Judge Matthew Kacsmaryk, the judge who set this case in motion to begin with, has already allowed Missouri, Kansas and Idaho to intervene in the mifepristone challenge. That means despite today’s ruling, these states could continue the litigation. In fact, Erin Hawley, the Alliance Defending Freedom attorney who led the mifepristone challenge, said today that those states will continue their suits. The Republican leaders in those three states argue they have standing because states have an interest in ‘protecting’ their residents. Hawley also said that her group is hopeful because the ruling was “based on a legal technicality,” and that SCOTUS “did not address the merits.”

Jessica Valenti nails it here: The FDA v. Alliance For Hippocratic Medicine ruling at SCOTUS yesterday was a temporary win for mifepristone access.

[jazzythursday]

Hi!

Your writing is so beautiful! Your characterizations of Wylan and Jesper are incredible in your oneshots and especially in Everyday, Just a Little or a Little Bit. Seriously, I think about that fic all the time. It's perfect. Sweet and angsty, domestic and wholesome. Are you interested in writing more for Wesper? Do you have any more ideas or WIPs that you'd like to write?

-sixofcrowdaydreams

I’m crying? This is incredibly sweet thank you so much 🥹💖

Wesper and the crows literally got me through the last year and are still my main source of serotonin atm so I promise I’m not even close to done writing about them yet!

I also think about Everyday… every day lol, I really do. I have a handful of offshoots and bonus scenes from that fic I still want to write/finish (Jesper’s pov of a few moments, his talk with Nina after Wylan leaves in ch3, so much with the bookseller from ch1 etc), along with a few wips and a giant list of ideas I haven’t even started.

Currently I’m working on my gift for an exchange we have going over on the @i-can-read-to-him server (which is becoming both incredibly stressful but also so so exciting with every scene I write) I wish I could talk about it but it’s a surprise™️ for the moment. It will hopefully be ready to start posting next week!

Until then, here's a snippet from one of the bonus scenes in Everyday. It's from the part in ch2 where Jesper comes back to the Slat after being jumped by debt collectors. (Fun fact: the original scene was supposed to be this version, but when I actually went to write it it was feeling too clunky with the rest of the chapter, so I changed it to the posted version)

Wylan wakes up alone one morning. 

He knows, immediately, that something is wrong. The only disturbance of the covers has been made by himself; the other side of the bed is untouched, except for where his hand had landed on Jesper's pillow during the night. The rest is left unruffled and empty.

He hadn’t come back.  Jesper had been sent on a job the night before that hadn’t needed a demo man. Wylan told him he’d wait up, and Jesper told him he didn’t need to. Wylan had planned to wait up anyway. 

Apparently, it hadn’t worked. Wylan does not remember falling asleep, and yet it’s undeniably morning now. Still early enough that the sun isn’t quite peeking through the curtains, but he can tell it will soon.

He tries not to get worked up. He gets worked up anyway. No matter how much he tries to rationalise it, there is a deep pit growing in his stomach, convincing him that something is very wrong. He gets out of bed and leaves the room. He doesn’t bother with boots, just creeps down the hall in his socks.  It doesn’t take long to hear voices. They filter out from Kaz’s office, freezing Wylan in place.  “You still might need a medik,” he hears—Nina’s voice. She sounds tired. “How many times do I have to tell you two I wasn’t trained for proper healing?” 

“You're doing fine.” Jesper. Jesper’s voice. He sounds… dim is the only way Wylan can think to describe it. Tinny. Like the rich, mellow timbre of his words have been syphoned off into something thinner. He coughs wetly. “Gold stars all around Neens, really.” 

“I’m not above knocking you out, you know,” Nina says, but even without being in the room he can tell there’s no real threat in it. It’s soft, fond, and concerned.

Wylan’s heart feels like it’s detached from his chest. Like it’s somewhere else entirely, and wherever that is, someones squeezing it very tightly. He walks closer, almost hovering outside the threshold. He places a hand on the knob. 

It’s been a very long time since Wylan has felt out of place with the Crows, but as he opens the office door, he cannot help but feel—not unwelcome, but uninvited, and left out of the loop.

Unnecessary, his mind supplies, and he tries very, very hard not to give it a chance to amend, worthless. 

He balls up the cuffs of his shirt—it’s one of Jesper’s, though Wylan can’t remember when he’d taken it up as his own. Long enough that it doesn’t smell like Jesper anymore, just Wylan, which is a tragedy—and casts a look around the room, feeling awkward and out of place and comparatively underdressed in only his sleep clothes and socks. 

Kaz looks as he always does, except worse. His hair is falling uncharacteristically messy over his face. He turns sharply from where he’d been facing the window when Wylan enters, eyes even darker than usual.

Nina looks worried, a deep weighty frown on her face as her hands press against Jesper’s abdomen. 

And Jesper looks— 

“What happened?” Wylan balks.  Everyone is staring at him now, and Wylan hates it, hates this, but it all pales in comparison to the awful feeling tearing itself through his chest at the sight of Jesper, Jesper’s face—

“Jes—” Wylan’s voice breaks.  

“I’m fine,” Jesper assures quickly. Nina scoffs. She takes her hands away from Jesper’s stomach to cross them over her chest. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine!”

“You’ll be fine when I say you’ll be fine,” Nina mutters.  

Jesper tries to smile at Wylan, tries to give him a surreptitious thumbs up with the hand farthest from Nina, tries to wink of all things. It doesn’t make Wylan feel any better. It also looks like it hurts, because both Jesper’s eyes are puffy and red, and the side of his face sports an angry mark that’s still bleeding sluggishly from his eyebrow. His jaw looks sort of swollen too, and he grimaces at his own smile, so it must hurt.

Looking at it makes Wylan want to cry, so instead he looks at Kaz. 

“What happened?” he asks again, very quietly. 

“Debt collectors. And an idiot.”

“Kaz!” Jesper protests. Kaz shoots him a glare that pierces slightly duller than usual, which makes Wylan worry even more. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Jesper tries again. 

Wylan doesn’t respond. He keeps looking at Kaz. 

Kaz sighs. He sweeps his hair back in its usual style and pushes up from the window. “He’ll be fine. It’s not good, but nothing with debt collectors ever is. I’m working on it.”

This ask was such a lovely thing to read on a very tough day, so again, ty 🥰

[chevvy-yates]

WIP Wednesday

Been tagged by @morganlefaye79 thx! <3

I tag: @imaginarycyberpunk2023, @itzsassha, @medtech-mara, @therealnightcity, @humberg, @pinkyjulien, @hydrasshole @kharonion and @elvenbeard as always: no pressure!

— VP

No plans atm other than preparing and thinking about sth for Arki as his birthday follows up next. Also promised I'll take some pics of Enzo and Jay as i couldn't make it in time for Enzo's bday. So I don't have much to add other than what I sneak-peaked last week that will be posted when I feel ready to push the button in my drafts (some pics are already months old again …). All other VP ideas are on hold as I still would liketo play the game a bit longer and only do random pics in between — but I need to solve first my problem I have with Thyjs' save data that is crashing when wanting to watch the deathshead BD in Judy's van. I want to look into it on the weekend because before I hop back into my bigger VP ideas I plan to get every oc into Phantom Liberty start and have them skilled a bit because that also motivates me to actually play the game from time to time and helps me to describe their fight style in the rp story. If I can't solve it I'll try Vijay next and see if he crashes too at the same point or not as I remember he's not far away from the Scav mission either. Then last I can try is Jay but he needs to get through the entire prologue first which will take me a weekend as well.

FIC/STORY/RP

Once I get Vijay's npv, @nervouswizardcycle and I can finally start taking story pics as well, though I believe she might just wait until she gets her new pc for that. I have overworked "The Golden Demon of Kabuki" text some months ago so it is a better readable fic now. I will place it into layout as soon as the needed pics are done. Then I'll see what happens next. Probably try and get ch2 ready.

I've said enough now, let's give you another snip-bit:

CORPO PARTY RP SNIPPET (my part only):

He noticed that Vijay says something Ry can’t concentrate on since he’s busy staring the redhead down and trying to see through him, but sees V starts walking and so he follows. They walked a bit further away leaving the red-haired man alone, Vijay pleased to stay and wait until they would come back to him. Once they were far away enough, Ryder turns around and raises his voice with a certain gnarl in his undertone “I leave you alone for almost an hour and you take the next best chance to shove your tongue down the throat of one of those Corporats?!” “Ry—” Vijay starts but Ryder is not done and so he hisses dangerously. “ON A JOB!? — Seriously V!” Scharfenberg shifts his weight to one leg, breathes audibly through his nostrils, crosses his arms and waits for V’s explanation.

Somehow Steyr finds it funny because he knows Ryder exaggerates it as always. Nonetheless Vijay feels a bit embarrassed as well because he knows Ry is also right. He should behave in a certain manner here but he is bad at being a Corpo. “Calm down man — Part of the job now,” V answers and gives him a stupid smirk. “You weren’t in reach. Had to escape from that escort chick otherwise I’d have blown cover. Unlike you I dunno how to friggin’ corpo. Dunno how to even pronounce my fuckin’ fake name either. Stainback von Kra– Krawnee–” “Steinbach von Kranichstein!” Ryder repeats fast in exasperation. 

They’ve practiced it a few times before and V still wasn’t able to pronounce it right. “Yeah whatever!” Vijay gestures with his hands. “But uh— Arki happened to—” “Oh, it’s ‘Arki’ already?!” “—chill a few feet away from me, so I took the chance to escape and, yeah — he’s my fiancé in disguise now as long as we are on the job here. He’s the dude from the Afterlife weeks ago, ‘member? Could help us out on this.” Ryder raises both eyebrows, his mouth opens a bit and he feels how Beast wants him to yell at V yet he -tries- to stay the calmest he can be. “Afterlife red haired rando? Supposed demon — your fiancé?! Alter Vadder! Tell me this is a joke!?” Ryder throws both hands in the air and makes a few steps as if he wants to walk away now and curses further in German “Ich glaub, ich bin im falschen FIlm!” He wasn’t in the wrong movie, though. “Chill, bro. I’ve got it under control. All good,” Steyr tries to calm his friend. “V, you know he’s a—” Scharfenberg starts but stops abruptly as he realizes something now that doesn’t make much sense to him. Wait. Afterlife merc rando— a true Corporate? How’s that fitting in? “He’s what?” V raises an eyebrow at that. “Forget it!“ “M‘Kay, if y’say so.” V crosses his arms, not satisfied about Ry’s answer.

“Just don’t like to get into a fucking mess,V!” Scharfenberg spits his sentence out rather inappropriately. Judging by V’s face however Ry notices it is meant seriously, so he facepalms with an angry growl as Beast already tells him to just flip the switch, turn around and kill some of those poor dancing souls behind him. “I’m not riding us into a mess. I bet he can help us to klep the info we here for.” Ryder gets immensely fidgety, looking into every direction trying to ignore the voice as best as he can. He fiddles out a menthol cigarette, lights it up and takes a few long puffs inhaling it deeply into his lungs as he walks up and down glad that Vijay waits until he’s done. The least V could use was having Ryder in a critical state on this job, so V gives his best mate time to clear his mind.

“Fine— But we’re not done talking about this!” Ryder states as he throws the smoked up stub on the bottom to rather aggressively put it out with his double varnished fine shoe. He doesn’t look amused about the fact that his best friend obviously seemed to know this dude named Arki already better than he thought. Steyr must have kept this info from him for whatever reason and he doesn’t like it at all. But since it is not part of the job right now, he accepts this now changed situation. So he takes another deep breath and says under gritted teeth “Let's get back to your new flame then, see if he can be of help as you predict and brief him.” Vijay gives him a thankful gaze. He knows it’s not easy for Ry to control but he managed well enough not to raise any suspicion and V does feel guilty too for not telling Ry he knows Arki already better than he might think. They would discuss it later. But now back to business. So they walked back to the redhead who was awaiting them back where they left him, enjoying a cigarette.

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

She's Gonna Be Popular-Chap 1 (Anarcia)

It's here, the She's All That AU! Also, I don't have much to say here, so...onto the story!

Read on ao3

Mondays were usually Marcia’s favorite day of the week. Most people hated Mondays, but it was a day Marcia thrived on. It was a fresh start to a brand new week and new opportunities.

Except this particular Monday, this one Marcia loathed.

It was supposed to be their favorite Monday until the cast list for the spring musical got posted from the auditions the Friday before. Their talents and long-acting resume should have made them perfect for the lead role in Hello Dolly.

Both fate and the drama teacher who made the cast list had other plans.

Marcia’s name was nowhere on the list, and her name is never missing from a cast list. She has never been below a supporting character since her first year at theater camp. It’s obviously a miss-print, so it’s an easy fix. Or so she thought it would be.

She already pestered the drama teacher all morning about his mistake.

“Not even understudy? Are you sure this isn’t some mistake? I know there were a lot of auditions this year, but surely you didn’t forget to put my name on the cast list.” Marcia asked after they snuck into the drama classroom in between classes.

The bell rang as she patiently waited for an answer. American Lit class be damned if she’s late. Getting on the cast list was more important.

His response was something she did not want to hear. “Your audition wasn’t up to par this year. You can still work in the crew if you would like,” he told her as he gently locked them out of the drama classroom so he could teach the first-year drama class.

Working in the crew would be the last place she wanted to be right now. Constantly seeing people on the stage where she wasn’t? That sounded like torture.

Marcia was spewing all day. If she wasn’t going to be on the stage, where would her place be in school this semester?

Dropping their bento-style lunch box at their usual spot at the outdoor table, Marcia plopped themself next to Sugar. Not even their favorite turkey and pesto pinwheels and lemon cookies would turn this day around.

“Bad day, Marshall?” Luxx asked from across her seat before putting a forkful of salad into their mouth.

“What the hell will I do this semester if I can’t even be in the stupid musical?” Marcia said as she angrily unzipped the lunchbox sleeve. “I’ll take any suggestions.”

“What about the cheer team? You could ask Jax if they would let you on the squad.” Sugar offered as she picked a couple of almonds from the pile between her and Spice.

Marcia shook her head, “They’re just getting ready to go to Nationals in a month. The only way Jax would even consider putting me on the team is if a whole ‘We Are The Tigers’ situation happened.”

“But our mascot is a ram.” Spice pointed out, tilting her head in confusion.

“It’s a mus- You know what? Not important right now.” Marcia said, not wanting to explain an entire musical to their friend. “What else do we have?”

“You could help with prom. The committee is still looking for juniors to help with planning.” Spice suggested.

Marcia shrugged, “I’d rather be on the prom court than be on the committee hearing people argue about the theming and venues.”

“Yeah, but it’s always the same circle of people that voted onto prom court. It would be cool to see someone who isn’t uber-rich and popular win prom royalty.” Luxx pointed out.

“I think anyone at this school could win that title. As long as they’re hot, it’s an easy win.”

“Sugar, you’re a genius!”

“I am?”

Marcia perked up, looking up in excitement. “I can get anyone at this school voted as prom royalty, and the school won’t have to see another predictable crowning! It’ll be memorable to the whole school, and I can take the credit for it.”

“You want to bet on that, then?” Luxx asked. “You know, the bet?”

Marcia thought for a moment and nodded. “You’re on. Go ahead and pick them out for me.”

“So you’re saying I can pick anyone at this school, then you’d make them win prom royalty?” Luxx looked around the school’s courtyard and set their eyes on a girl with a messy top knot and oversized clothes, quietly reading on an old bench. “I pick her.”

Marcia stared at the girl from afar as the twins looked at Luxx in shock. They’d seen the girl around school a few times but didn’t know much about her.

“Her? Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?” Sugar asked as she pointed to the girl, trying to keep her voice low.

“Yeah, I think she only has one friend, and Sasha graduates this year,” Spice added, her voice at normal volume, as her sister pressed a finger to her lips, begging Spice to keep her voice quiet.

Marcia looked back at Luxx and crossed her arms in front of her, “Fine, I’ll make her prom queen, I’ll show you.” she said with a determined look.

Luxx cocked their head in response, “You don’t even know her name, do you?”

“…No, but that won’t stop me from winning this bet.”

Later in the afternoon, Marcia was in their last class of the day. Their anger had subsided but was now replaced by worry over making the most shy and introverted girl in school into this year’s coveted prom queen.

Marcia still had no clue what this girl’s name was (the twins refused to tell her since Luxx considered it ‘an unfair advantage’ if she used outside help) so this bet looked much better for Luxx now.

Marcia sat across the biology lab table from the twins and watched the girl from earlier enter the room, this time wearing thick square glasses. She looked around at the other tables before going to the teacher’s desk.

“She’s been in our class this whole time?” she whisper-questioned.

Sugar nodded, “She was in our geometry class last year too.”

Marcia sighed as she watched the girl talk to their teacher, with slight concern in the girl’s brown eyes.

“Where’s Irene? She’s the only other person in my lab group.” the girl asked.

“Irene got transferred into Chemistry since the credit from her old school covered this class.” the teacher explained. “You are more than welcome to join another group.”

The girl looked around to the other tables, “I’ll just do the work myself. It’ll be fine.” she shrugged and walked to the empty table in the back of the classroom.

Marcia looked back to the twins and started gathering their books and colorful pens on the table “I’m gonna be her lab partner. It’s perfect.” they scrambled out of the chair.

“What about us? We’re clueless about this science stuff without you!” Spice whined.

“You two will be fine! Sugar’s good at math and Spice, you…” Her voice trailed off, thinking of an academic compliment. “You have good handwriting! Bye!” Marcia picked up the books and walked across the room to the back table.

The girl looked up at her, looking unamused. Marcia realized this part she had never planned as she set her belongings down.

“Hi!” Marcia cheerfully said after a few seconds of awkwardly staring at each other.

“Hi.” The other girl responded, sounding slightly confused and bored.

“I heard you needed a lab partner. I’m Marcia.” she quickly said with a smile.

“I already know your name, we have three other classes together.” the girl said, pulling out her notebooks and a black pen. “I don’t need help with this class if that’s what you came here for.”

The dark-haired girl seemed uninterested in talking anymore as she started writing the Punnett squares on the whiteboard in her notebook.

Marcia made a mental note to herself to learn more about the people outside her social circle.

Luckily the teacher walked by their table, saving Marcia from looking worse.

“Oh, Anetra, you already found a new lab partner. Good choice, since there’s a big project coming up for your final grade.”

“Oh, she’s not my-” Anetra stopped talking as the teacher walked away to another table. Sighing, she looked back at the blonde “I hope you’re good at biology, since it looks like I’m stuck with you.”

Marcia felt like jumping for joy. She finally learned Anetra’s name, and they will work closely on the project for the rest of the semester. They’ll gain Anetra’s trust, (maybe a makeover later) and then they have a clear shot to prom court.

Winning this bet will be so much easier than she initially thought. Forget about the damn spring musical, Marcia had better plans now.

[yoonieper]

Yoongi Experience + Update

So this was the post where I was going to tell you guys about how much I enjoyed Yoongi’s show and I might have a quick oneshot in the works because I got inspo because that’s my husband and he was so hot tonight, but well things didn’t go my way yesterday… or today really 🙃 I will be sparing with details but we were on our way to Newark but our train was delayed so badly to the point we arrived after the show ended (we were supposed to get there at 5 btw— 5 hours behind). We were literally stuck at a station for hours (it was probably around 4:30 ish when we got there (our train was already delayed so it wasn’t a big deal)) because of apparent “police activity” ahead. They didn’t tell us anything and we had to wait there for 2 hours because of sumn mysterious. I was already getting worried, but it was around 6ish when we started moving again from the station so I was like cool— we’ll have to rush, might miss the beginning but we’ll get there. Well we were stuck again in who knows where for hours, probably 3 maybe, and we couldn’t get off the train so we had to sit there as time ticked away and I watched the concert start without us there. Literally the worst experience ever and I broke down pretty bad— there were other armys on the train and yeah, the mood was just horrible. So yeah, by the time we got there, just picture us coming off the train and the station was filled with all the army’s going home from the show. If that ain’t my 13th reason right there this morning too our train back home had mechanical issues so we had to wait in the cold for a while before we had to catch a different train (3 hours and nearly 30 minutes behind schedule). I was supposed to be back at school already, prepping for my last few days of classes before I needed to grind on my final projects and studying for exams, but I’m still here at home. Anyway all this to say is that I’ve been having a very shitty time these past few days (I’ve went through the 5 stages of grief like 100 different times) but I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that the delay was out of my hands and involved a very unfortunate accident, as much as I’ve cried there’s nothing I can do about it :’). I’ll be busy up till… the end of next week maybe so with everything going on I can’t promise I’ll get too much writing done until my break starts… I’m nearly done with the chapter I’ve been grinding, finishing up the smut scene and just a little plot to add at the end then I’ll finally be able to get out those oneshots that I’ve teased on my Progress Page (hint hint please check it out if you haven’t already)! I hope to do a lot of writing this summer and also get that special project out by the end of the summer (maybe? it at least should be completed and ready for beta feedback if not)! I’ll be back with more updates probably after I come home for good and I don’t have school stuff to think about~

tl/dr: Train got delayed to the point I ended up missing the Newark show (been crying my eyes out) 🙃 On the last leg for the semester and will be pretty busy and won’t be able to write for the next two weeks— hope to get started as soon as my break starts on those oneshots I teased on the Progress Page!

[thirtyoneflirtingnoneanddying]

4.12

I love the new little ritual I’ve made for myself on Friday nights. I drop Joel off and head to Edward’s to sit at the top of the parking structure (and apparently sometimes I relive a night with Tre in my mind and get literally sick to my stomach lmao) anyway yeah I come up here and just kinda hang out until whichever movie I picked starts. Tonight I’m seeing immaculate. Mikila posted on twitter that it was good the other day so that made me go for this over monkey man. I think I’ll be seeing that next week. I can’t wait! Maybe I’ll even see it tomorrow…? Idk?

I noticed that I tend to like downplay the prospect of new connections and shut myself off to shit as a defense mechanism like at FIRST but soon thereafter I’m like, down to clown lowkey. Like at school, there are people there I’d hang out with. At work too, there are people I’d hang out with. It feels good to be liked? It feels good to have kind of a fresh start with new eyes where I can like establish myself as someone with boundaries.

At first I didn’t care for any of these people that much. Which like yeah I guess that’s healthy. I wasn’t so desperate for friends that I was just like YAASSS MORE OPPORTUNITIES EVEN IF THEY SUCK lol nah you gotta be vetted first.

But why did I think I was better than them? lol that’s the part that I’m so confused by?? Like why was my first instinct to look down on everyone? Maybe because I don’t like the feeling of like meshing into groups?? Which is so crazy because that’s exactly I think what my chart says about my Aquarius Lilith.

Also I really gotta get my life together with this goddamn affiliate marketing thing??????? Like omg?????

Anyway. I feel good in general. I keep getting these little pangs and idk what the deal is with them but I get them when I think of Vanessa which is strange because I genuinely feel okay about that. I mean I wish I could’ve just faded into the background and not had to have a spat lmao but like idk I don’t feel like I lost a friend. I feel like a weight has lifted. I feel like I have my hands back on the wheel. It bothers me to think about all the nasty shit she’s said or thought and I think that’s because I just want her to know she’s wrong so bad lmao it really shouldn’t matter to me. And I guess in the grand scheme of things, it won’t lol

I just want to forget that we were friends because that was all just so…….. idk embarrassing that I would cater to that. She’s just awful… like the amount of times I felt like I had to rubber stamp god awful behavior and mindsets?? I just don’t like her. I cared about her out of like a codependent place I suppose. Our humor matched fairly well. But other than those things I did not like that girl. I just want the yuck of it all to go away.

I am having a nice time by myself tho. Truly.

[diahmandis]

January

(even though I wrote this ln February 6th)

To my future self, I know that someday you’ll look back on this blog and reread posts and cringe so hard at what you’ve written — but I just want to tell you that I’m proud of you EVEN if you did not accomplish writing about how your day went on Tumblr every single day. Well, You’ve successfully posted on your Instagram dump (@pritongsiomai – I hope you still remember her) everyday for the month of January until now, as you were writing this on February 6th of 2023. Anyway, back to what you wanted to say:

I guess I could say that the month has been a rollercoaster of emotions. The first few weeks of January were absolutely stressful since I was struggling to keep up with all my requirements from the previous semester; deadlines were piled up like crazy and I didn’t think I could finish everything on time. But I did. (Well, except for PE where I got an INC but that’s TOTALLY FINE. I can finish that before the year ends. Sure I can.) I successfully finished the semester with 1.5 as my lowest grade (wait til I get my grades from PE lol). I’m so glad that I got to hang out with friends even outside of academic requirements (well, we DID do academic requirements but we did it TOGETHER outside of class.) I’m thankful for the bond that Rei, Alyanna and I had shared this month. It feels refreshing to finally have people whom I can call friends at UP. Oh. Another thing. I finally had the time to reflect. After a very long while, I got to experience VACATION properly again. Like I literally have nothing to do (except PE… okay I’ll finish that SOON!!!!)

Going back, despite that haunting INC, I’m incredibly proud of myself for pushing through and sticking to the things that I told myself I would do to change for the better. I promised myself that 2023 would be the year when I started thinking of myself more — prioritizing my mental health, investing in myself, and just overall trying to be the best version of me I could ever be. I started reading again, which is good because I have been discovering so much things about me that I never really knew. I finished Every Day by David Levithan, a favorite when I was sixteen. And now, at twenty two it really hit different. I really wasn’t that impressed by it. But okay, it’s still a good book. 6/10. I also started reading Atomic Habits by James Clear, but I haven’t revisited the book again since I got a physical copy of a different self-help book — Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert. And oh my fucking god. It has been so impactful to the way I think as a creative. I can’t even explain how much I love it. So, to my future self, if ever you’re coming across this and you don’t know which book to read, pick it up again. I’m sure you’ll find a lot of insights there. I marked it up for you.

This month was also challenging for Sean and I’s relationship. I mean we obviously did NOT break up, but we had some trouble here and there because of our personal priorities. Which is totally understandable by the way, we didn’t have any huge fight about it but we were able to talk it through and compromise for each other. And on that note, I just love our relationship because we’ve obviously grown so much individually and as a couple. We’re able to fully express our feelings without sudden outbursts of emotions, we just talk shit through and get over the things that we’re supposed to get over together. Safe to say that our relationship has never been healthier.

I just loved how January was for me. I’m hoping that the next couple of months will be too. I’m already claiming that this is going to be my year. I’m owning it. 2023 will be the hear when I’ll start my journey to become a bad ass boss bitch.

See you at the end of the month, I guess.

[iwannaban0nym0us]

ahahaha fair warning the tone of this post is about to majorly change

So before school started I talked to a few of my friends who don’t usually have a free with us but did today since the schedule was weird and I asked them to wait like 5min before coming into the room to hang out so that I would have a chance to ask my crush out and they all agreed and were excited for me

So like during first block I hyped myself up and I was so ready to do it like so ready, and then I get there and there’s someone I like extremely vaguely know who’s there along with my crush and I’m not gonna ask them out with someone else in the room but I can’t kick that person out without being weird

So we just have a normal conversation and eventually friends join us and thank god none of them say anything about me and my crush (we were sitting right next to each other like usual)

Two interesting things happened during the conversation, one my crush was texting their friend and was like ‘please reply to me, I want to vent to you!’ and so I asked her what was up and they told me they’d tell me later when less people were around (we’ll get back to this later but also aaaaa they were willing to tell me over everyone else) the other thing is my friends were joking around about driver’s ed giving dating advice and then talking about people getting bitches and so one of my friends is like none of us get bitches except maybe me and I’m just what no not right here, I only say the what??? part out loud tho

Before long I have to run off because I had a tutoring session and nothing else interesting happens until lunch

At lunch I’m talking with my friends I tell the ones who I told to wait to come into the room that I wasn’t actually able to ask my crush out since someone else was there and they're like 'wait really, based on the way y'all were sitting i thought you did it already' and i'm just like nooo we're just like that help

Later in lunch I end up talking with my crush and at one point we're alone so i finally get a chance to ask what was up earlier and so they fill me in (you might wanna sit down, it's a ride)

Alright so, they are friends with my ex (but closer to me and know all the shit my ex did and hates that they did that) and a few months ago now, but like less than a month after we broke up, my ex asked out my crush, thankfully my crush said no since they had talked to me and realized how much of a bad idea it would be

Ok so, back to now, I know my crush has a crush on someone (they know I do too) and apparently a week or two ago our mutual friend who is going out with my ex (and has been since well before I broke up with my ex since my ex is polyam) took a guess about who my crush likes and got it right and my crush basically had to confirm it

So like yesterday my ex and their boyfriend were talking and my ex is like 'i want to ask out [my crush] again' and so their boyfriend deiced to tell them exactly who my crush likes despite my crush asking them not to tell anyone

All of this led to my ex messaging my crush asking to talk to them at some point about this, which ended up happening while I was in tutoring, in the conversation my ex tells my crush that they still like them a lot and my crush is like 'ok?? but you know I like someone else' and so my ex is like 'what do you want me to get rid of my crush' and my crush is like 'yes exactly' (all of this was said in much nicer better words tho)

So yeah me and my crush talked about it a bit and how fucked up it is and I realized how a lot of what my ex said to them is similar to what my ex said to me while/after we broke up like when they wanted me to stay or didn't get the hint that we weren't friends anymore

And now something that was supposed to be simple and cute and happy is a total mess and it's all because of my fucking ex

I'm so glad I didn't ask my crush out before hearing this whole story because like,,,, this week,,, is not the week to ask them out esp not today, if things feel like they've blown over hopefully I can ask them out on Monday

That wasn't the end of my day being a mess tho, nonono that was just the start, my next class is the one class I have with none other than my ex, on most days I can manage that but I was not in the fucking mood to even hear their voice after learning all of that, god rn I really wish I could punch my ex, but also i know next time I see them i'm gonna like oh look they're just a normal seemingly nice person

So after surviving that class (with the help of a bathroom break) I have Japanese with a few friends and my ex's boyfriend, so i'm noticeably off at this point (you know when you have so many thoughts that you end up with no thoughts just tired, yeah) and my friends I ask whats up and I quietly give an extremely vague answer (everything is a mess because of my ex + my crush) but we can't say too much since my ex's boyfriend is right next to one of my friends

At one point while we're doing a reading I see my crush walk by, headed to the empty classroom at the end of the hall by the gender neutral bathrooms, eventually I finish the reading and I need to do something so I pull out fidgets and stuff, but after a while my brain is still being stupid and we still haven't moved on since other people are working so I "go to the bathroom" just to get out of there

I end up joining my crush and we talk about our classes and how I need more sleep for a bit but then i have to go back to class so i'm not gone for too long, I end up not missing anything so it's fine

After school I'm still a fucking mess but I can't say anything since there's too many people around and it's not entirely mine to share

I hang out with my friends for a bit but end up going over to my crush and we talk and things seem normal and we end up going back to my friends together (and away from where they were which was near my ex, we both positioned ourselves so we couldn't see my ex when we were over there tho lol)

I have to leave sooner than I wanted to tho since my (total different) friend was running an inclusion space thing for robotics and called me to tell me to go to it and like there's a chance it could be good and we could like do shit idk, the meeting ended up only making things worse tho because it triggered stupid robotics gender feelings!

it was a lot of cis girls complaining about cis guys and as someone who often passes (as a guy) I didn't feel like I could share anything and also my brain was already half shut off so i didn't have the energy to be the trans voice in the room

After that I ends i go to robotics and get thrown into the other gender spiral as I start of by working with 2 cis guys and so now my brain as the crush/ex thing in the background and is like 'fuck fuck fuck not a girl not a guy where the fuck do we fit here' and ofc today my trans friend on the robotics team had a basketball game and so wasn't around

I end up stepping out at one point to call one of the friends from Japanese class and i tell them everything and it helps a bit, like at the very least they validated my feelings because I was kinda feeling like I shouldn't still be getting this fucked up over shit my ex does, but here we are

i- yeah i think that's everything, I might try and do some homework now we'll see if I can be productive at all

aaaa more crush things

so in QSU today we were watching heartstopper and a couple of things happened, first of all our mutual ace friend was thinking about how my crush acts like a cat and I act like a golden retriever and how nick and charlie are like that too and so they told me and my crush that we’re nick and charlie respectively and all of us just started laughing but internally I was screaming because I would lover it if our relationship was like nick and charlie’s, also my crush made i comment about how I even text like nick and idk how to take that,,,

also I think I’m gonna ask them to the dance tomorrow, I’ve started to drive my friends crazy with the fact that we aren’t together yet since all my friend think they like me back, and yeah, we have spent a looooooot of time together recently, anyway, i’m gonna ask them out with a hearstopper line

my general plan is that hopefully we’ll get an empty room to hang out in during our free tomorrow and when the conversation dies down my plan is as follows

Me: So you don't have a crush on anyone at the moment then? Them: [something, probably reminding me that they already told me they like someone] Me: What's she like then? Them: [idk, maybe a comment about how they're pan so they might not be a girl] Me: Are they, not a girl? Them: [probably starting to figure out what I'm doing so might not say anything here] Me: Would you go out with someone who isn't a girl? Them: [who knows hopefully says something] Me: Would you go to the dance with someone who isn't a girl? Them: [might comment on how I changed the line] Me: Would you go to the dance with me? Them: [hopefully says yes!]

So yeah, that's my plan I just have to hope everything works out!

[dragon-queen21]

@little-froglight Regressed Joel I did based on your posts. 💚 💚 Hope you like it :3

[write-ur-wrongs]

The Death of Me

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Word count: almost 4K - big whoops!

A/N: This was totally meant to be a drabble / blurb, but the story got away from me! A huge thanks to the sweet anon who submitted this prompt - I was beyond inspired and chuckled warmly throughout the entire writing process. This baby isn’t proofread so thread lightly!! I sincerely hope y’all enjoy this one :’) 

Prompt:  Heya! I saw your post about wanting to practice writing short stories so I have a small prompt for Geralt! What about: the reader and Geralt have always had a difficult relationship, always running into each other at the most inconvenient moments and hence disliking each other. However, while Geralt is passing through a village the reader comes barging into his room bloody and near death, only getting a chance to say “I didn’t know where else to go” before collapsing. I would be honoured if the idea inspired you :3

____________________________________________________

You’d never considered yourself unlucky but lately life had a funny way of throwing you for a loop, or rather, throwing you to the wolves. One wolf, actually. A damn, irritating, and arrogant white wolf.

At first, it was all business. You’d arrive in a village itching for a contract, only to find that a “legendary witcher” had already come through and taken care of every monster within a two-days ride. Furious, hungry, and broke, you set out determined to get as far as you could and as quickly as possible. Your determination got you far enough that you’d managed a full three months of contract work, but not far enough it seemed.

You’d been on your way to collect payment from your latest contractor when you’d heard the buzz on the street; a witcher had come through asking about work, and had been told to wait and see as someone else (a woman! A human woman!) had already committed to the case. Apparently, he was either incensed or bemused at the idea – the brute was very hard to read, so say the town gossips – but it didn’t matter to you. You beat him to it and now you get to eat. When you finally met with the contractor to collect your coin, you couldn’t help but swell with pride as they thanked you, eyes wide, for taking care of a monster no human ought to be able to handle. You could have sworn your pride had given you wings as you floated out of the inn.

That is, until you heard them mumble under their breath, “Thank Gods that lass was able to handle it! Had it been the witcher, I would have had to pay triple!”

“Thank heavens for cheap labour!” whispered their partner, raising their glass to cheers their big victory.

Suddenly whatever weightlessness you felt transferred onto your coin purse. Biting hard on your cheek you pushed up your chin, determined to remain dignified. But then you saw him.

Impossibly broad chested, rippling muscles evident beneath his leather armour, with golden eyes that reflected back to you with a cruel playful nature that made bile rise in the back of your throat. He held your gaze and raised his own tankard to you as you walked past him. His deep voice rumbled through you as you pushed the door open.

“Cheers to cheap labour,” you heard him say, and swore you could hear the smirk on his full lips.

Groaning furiously, you pushed the door so hard it swung back and slammed shut behind you with such force a flock of birds took off somewhere in town. Undeterred, you stomped off towards your horse and set off at a gallop.

I’m going to make sure I never cross his fucking path ever again, you thought searingly.

You were wrong it turned out, but how were you supposed to know that?

You’d gone years without actually seeing him again, but that didn’t mean you were free of him. You’d alternated winning and losing contracts to each other, and the pressure of beating him to the next one stressed you so fiercely you developed ulcers. That alone would have been enough to push you to murder had you not heard from another witcher that their brother, the great white wolf, was losing sleep trying to keep up with you. Knowledge of this fact spurred you on; after all, if you couldn’t beat him, it’s best to be even, no?

The next time fate brought you two together, though, you could not have been farther from on top. What made matters worse, is that you weren’t even in battle when your paths crossed. Your literal paths just simply… crossed.

You’d been riding east for many days and just as many nights. You were tired, sore, and somehow still soaked to the bone despite the fact that the rain had stopped at least a day ago. You were so tired, your muscles seemed heavy in your limbs, and you had to keep blinking hard to bring the spinning world around you back to its axis. As you rode through an intersection on the trail, the sun peaked out from behind the thick curtain of clouds just long enough to pull you fully into sleep, and right off your still-moving-horse’s saddle.  

You honestly didn’t remember falling asleep, or off the saddle. You also had no memory of the moment another traveler, who was riding towards the intersection on the other trail, leapt off his mare just as you started your descent and caught you before you could split your skull open on one of the many rocks sprinkled throughout the street. You had no memory of the way he’d pulled you off the path, leading both horses behind him as he’d carried you over his shoulder. Zero recollection of him laying you down on a bed grass, tying your horse to a nearby tree, lighting you a campfire, or filling your pack with some bread and meat.

What you did remember, was the arrogant look on his face when you finally woke up. The condescending tone he took as he reminded you that you were ‘only human’ and had to take care of yourself accordingly was also seared into the annals of your memory.

You hated that he’d saved you almost as much as you hated the fact that you’d been asleep around him. Completely vulnerable for God knows how long and he’d been there to witness it all. Whenever the memory of the look on his face or the way he’d crossed his arms and tilted his stupid head as he condescended your humanity came to you, you couldn’t help but cringe even months after the fact.

***

Your saving grace came a full six months after your damned damsel in distress moment on the trail.

Well fed, well worked, and well travelled, you were taking your time enjoying the market in your town of the week. The work you did wasn’t glamourous, but it did allow you the means to afford a few luxuries every now and then. This time, it just so happened that your coin could buy you the sweetest gift of all: revenge.

The market was busy as ever, you could barely hear yourself think over the cacophony of voices and animal bleats bouncing around the square. Had it been anyone else, the conversation would have been lost among the noise around you, but when that voice came rumbling through the mess of shrieks and shouts, you couldn’t help but seek out the source. You didn’t know why you cared or why you were so surprised to find that the voice’s owner was none other than the White Wolf himself.

“You good?” you asked, making sure to tilt your head, hands on your hips, the same way he’d done the last time you’d met.

“Fine.” He practically barked, not even turning his head fully to address you directly.

The merchant, none-too-concerned with your arrival on the scene, continued as if uninterrupted. “I’m sorry Mr. Witcher, sir, but I can’t go any lower. This is the best I can offer.”

“I can’t pay that much,” he grumbled, hands closed into tight fists.

“I’m sorry-”

“Is this enough?” you interjected, knowingly offering forward far too many ducats.

“Y-yes!” breathed the merchant, looking quizzically at Geralt before picking three coins from your open palm, “thank you, madam...”

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself with a warm smile and a nod.

“Y/N!” Geralt hissed, at the same time, reaching out to push away your hand a fraction too late; the vendor was paid, and you’d won this round.

“What is it, Witcher?” you teased, as the vendor took his sword back for repairs, “been on vacation? Why so skint?”

“Been low on work lately,” he replied coolly, cat-like eyes boring into yours, “not as many contracts as there use to be.”

“Well, I’ll be,” you said, cocking your head to the side and pursing your lips in mock contemplation, “I can’t imagine why that’d be the case! Seems I keep running into monsters to kill.”

“Mmhm.” He hummed, narrowing his eyes at you.

Refusing to let him have the last word, you quickly turned on your heels and high-tailed it out of the market, shouting over your shoulder to the blacksmith to give any change back to Geralt before disappearing back into the crowd.

***

Being even should have brought peace between the two of you but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Your last interaction only fanned the flames of your rivalry. As the months turned to years without coming upon each other again, you still found yourself filled with unreasonable anger whenever you saw a mop of white hair cross you on your travels.

And not that you’d know it, but it turned out that Geralt wasn’t faring any better; finding himself frustrated and acting recklessly whenever he’d come upon anything that reminded him of you.

You were both completely obsessed with one another. Thoughts of the other constantly on the mind. Whether in waking or in dreams, you were both equally afflicted by an intense need to outperform, out run, and also, inexplicably, to impress the other.  

*

It was that need to impress each other that led you to accept a contract you should have never even considered taking. You honestly wouldn’t have even considered it had the circumstances been any different but you’d been hearing about this monster for weeks on your travels. Tales of the mighty griffin tearing people to shreds had been circulating far and wide on this side of the Yaruga, and honestly, with every retelling you’d expected to hear that a witcher had handled it, but that never happened. You’d somehow managed to arrive at the village at the source of these stories before him and had an opportunity to literally rob him of this victory.

Granted, you were the only one who’d been attributing him with this win, but that didn’t matter, not to you. The only thing you cared about when accepting this particular contract was the knowledge that by taking it, you were preventing him from having it, and that was more than enough.

The shock on the villagers faces when they saw you accept the contract only added to your already inflated confidence. The sheer size of the griffin’s wingspan humbled you a little, though, and whatever grand illusions of an easy victory you’d carried into the forest were squashed along with a couple rib bones only moments after engaging the beast. In short, you were fucked.

Some might say that coming out of it alive was enough of a win. Those people would be morons, you thought as you stumbled clumsily back towards the lights of the village, clutching your split abdomen with both hands and blinking back blood dripping from your forehead. Every step you took came with the stabbing pain of additional tearing around your wound. You could barely think, your ears were blocked and caked with dried blood and dirt, your tears stung as they fell across the gashes on your cheeks, and every breath in felt like it could be your last. You’d never admit this out loud, but a part of you wished the creature had finished the job.

Perhaps the only saving grace here was that in your condition, you couldn’t hear the villagers as they pointed and gossiped. You didn’t hear the “told you so’s” or the lewd shouts coming from the drunk men as you stumbled into the tavern. You could barely hear the disappointment in the inn owner’s voice as they reprimanded you for accepting a contract, they knew you couldn’t complete. Rolling your eyes, you pushed your way towards the stairs as quickly as possible – which, as it turned out, was not so quick, praying that someone would call you a healer.

“… and to think a witcher arrived only hours after she went off to kill herself! Tsk-tsk!”

You stopped dead in your tracks, drops of blood falling across your brow as you interrupted the momentum you’d been building. “W-what?” you croaked, turning towards them as much as possible to make sure you’d hear them correctly.

“Yeah! And not just any witcher, lass, the Butcher of Blaviken no less! Checked in with us just as you head out. Had you waited half a day you could have saved yourself a world of – ‘ey! Now where’s she off to?”

As you registered this news, something inside you snapped. Before you knew what was happening, you’d made your way upstairs and started pushing your full weight onto every door you passed. The great White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken, was certainly arrogant enough to leave his door unlocked. You might have been wrong about the griffin, but you’d be damned if you were wrong about this.

Fortunate or not, you weren’t wrong about this. As you pushed your shoulder against the last door with whatever strength you had left, the door swung open with very little resistance. The heavy wooden door slammed loudly against the wall at the exact moment that your limp body crashed onto the floor.

“WHAT the fuck!” Geralt howled, leaping off the bed and onto his feet. His wild eyes assessed the situation in an instant, and he bound to you in barely two strides. “What the fuck did you do? What happened?” he asked as he flipped you over, so gently you were sure you’d already passed out and were now dreaming. Or maybe the blood loss was finally catching up to you and you were full-on hallucinating.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you breathed, barely above a whisper, before losing consciousness in his arms.

*

Regaining consciousness was a slow, painful process. You’d come in and out of it a handful of times throughout the night, and flashes of what you’d seen before you lost it were coming to you in an almost dreamlike haze; terrifying images of the furious griffin, its blood-soaked talon shining in the setting sun as it reared back to strike you again, and warmer visions of Geralt, shirtless, running towards you with – could it be? – genuine concern in his eyes.

Now as the rising sun cast its glow across the room, you squinted painfully against the light. Your head felt as though it was full of cotton; heavy, and scratchy, and unnatural on top of your shoulders. Hesitantly, you ran your tongue over your teeth and were equal parts relieved to find them all there and disgusted at the acrid, mineral taste the blood left behind. Blinking slowly, you tried to bring up your hand to rub at your eyes, but stopped short as you felt the large bandage draped across your forehead.

Slowly, you started to register the other bandages, on your arms, your cheek, across your abdomen. Your eyes grew wide as you finally registered the man facing away from you in the far corner of the room. Geralt’s broad strong back was hunched away from you as he rifled through herbs and small glass vials looking for something. Inexplicably, you found yourself disappointed to see he’d put his thick black tunic back on. Horrified by that realization, you literally gagged, startling Geralt and pulling his attention squarely onto you.

His big dumb beautiful face was all hard lines as he looked you over, stern eyes flashing to meet yours before dropping back down to the vial in his hands. You couldn’t help be notice the way the muscles in in jaw rippled and tensed as he sighed. He was oozing disappointment and anger, and that infuriated you.

“Am I dead?” you ask, squinting at him a little theatrically as you squirmed and winced in your bed.

“No.” he practically growled, his body tense as he made his way towards you slowly.

“Oh,” you breathed, bringing your eyes up to his before adding, “this isn’t hell?”

To your immense satisfaction, his stern eyes widened into shock, but then something unrecognizable flashed across his features – wait, was he hurt?

“Why, because I’m here?” he shouted, as if in confirmation of your hunch, and slammed the damp cloth he’d been holding back into the basin.

“No, jackass,” you retorted, pleased that despite the position you were in, you still had some semblance of an upper-hand, “because a griffin fucking fileted me like a fish and some poor drunk is probably downstairs slipping in a pool of my blood right now.”

You’d kind of hoped that he’d laugh, or at least have a comeback geared up for you, but Geralt just stood there staring at you, his mouth in a tight line, nostrils flaring.

Uncomfortable by the intensity of his stare and the silence accompanying it, you decide to continue to poke the bear.

“Come on, what’s with the face, Geralt? Pissed I’m still alive? You know you could have just closed the door over my body, let nature finish the bloody job.”

“Fuck, no! Y/n!” he screamed, startling you out of the attitude you’d put on, “I’m pissed because you’re an impossibly difficult woman hellbent on killing herself! I’m pissed because you don’t seem to fucking care about what happens to you! You can’t keep doing this Y/N! Because one of these days you’re going to get hurt and you’ll be too far away from me and I won’t be able to fucking save you, again! I am pissed because I am losing my mind spending every god-awful day wondering if you’ve gone and gotten yourself killed! Fucking hell, woman! If you didn’t find me – I-if I wasn’t here, with these herbs – Damnit Y/N!”

You just sat there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t know what to say. This man, your nemesis, was in front of you pacing back and forth, breathing heavily, looking like a maniac. His nostrils were flaring more than the monster that almost killed you just yesterday. Part of you wanted to correct him and demand he never address you as ‘woman’ again, but his wild earnest eyes kept you quiet. My god… was he crying?

Before you could say anything, Geralt sighed gruffly, ran his large hand over his face and stormed out, mumbling something about needing to get you more water.

Left alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t stop yourself from spiralling. You’d expected him to be angry – hell, you wanted him to be angry! You’d humiliated yourself twice over, enraging him would ease the blow – but this was… different. He seemed genuinely concerned about you. And what was with his whole speech? He spent every day thinking about you? Worrying about you? There’s no way.

Sure, you thought about him daily, but that was out of spite! You hated the man! Why else would your heart race whenever you thought you spotted him in a crowd? Why else would you actively seek out the most dangerous contracts? What, like you were hoping these contracts would draw him out, and therefore, closer to you? As if!

Your ridiculous inner monologue was interrupted by Geralt’s return. The horrible brute knocked gently on the door before stepping inside, and your heart had the audacity to skip a beat.

Oh, you thought, fuck.

“I need to change the dressing on your wounds,” he grumbled, not meeting your eyes. You nodded wordlessly as he settled onto the chair next to you. You watched him work in silence, praying he would attribute your insane heartrate and flushed skin to a pain response from his work.

“Geralt?” you tried, chewing nervously on your cheek, as was just finished up with the last of your dressing.

“Hm?” he hummed, keeping his eyes cast down as he fussed with the bandage on the gash across your abdomen.

“Thank you… for saving me.”

He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, but said nothing in return. He merely grunted in acknowledgment. You didn’t know why, but his silence in combination with his inscrutable gaze encouraged you to keep talking.

“I honestly only took this contract because I didn’t want you to have it,” you admitted bashfully.

“What the fuck? No one was taking it because they weren’t paying nearly enough! Hell, and you’re just a human,” he fumed, throwing up air-quotes as he said it, “so what – they offered you a third of nothing?”

Laughing lightly, you shoved him with your elbow, “they offered me three whole ducats!”

“Oh, wow,” he laughed, low and rumbling, “so a big pay day for you, eh?”

“Shut up,” you gasped as pain rippled through you with each peal of laughter, “knowing I could screw you over was payment enough!”

“Well congratulations are in order, you did manage to screw someone over,” he chided.

“Me,” you stated dryly, gesturing widely at your busted up body.

“You,” he echoed with a sigh that seemed to deflate him.

He suddenly looked so small, sitting there next to you. You watched him as clenched and unclenched his jaw, rubbing his large hands up and down his thighs – was he anxious? You mind raced as you felt his eyes travel slowly up your body. You held your breath as he worked up the nerve to finally bring his eyes up to yours.

The moment his eyes landed on yours, something shifted. Whatever had been lodged uncomfortably between the two of you all these years had finally clicked into place. This change, albeit small, was palpable. His eyes dropped to your lips and lingered there. He was looking at you like he’d never seen you before. Like he was afraid he might never see you again.

Without speaking, Geralt inched himself closer to you and reached a tender hand to tuck your hair behind your ears before cradling your face.

“You’re not allowed to die, do you hear me?” he whispered, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You gave him a quick nod and brought your hand up to his, nuzzling into the warmth of his palm before giving his hand a quick kiss.

“I need to hear you say it,” he begged, bringing himself even closer to you.

“I do,” you breathed, trying to sit up to bring your face closer to his. “I’m not going to die, not on your watch, but I’m also not quitting.”

“Y/N –”

“No! If I quit, you’d get lazy. Who’d push you? What would be your driving force?”

“Wow,” he scoffed, looking at you incredulously but fondly, “you’re so fucking arrogant.”

“And yet…” you said, quirking a brow flirtatiously as you pulled him closer by the collar.

“… and yet?” he murmured, letting himself be pulled closer to you. His eyes half-closed and his lips slightly parted.

“You love me.”

“I love you.”

And then he kissed you. His mouth claimed yours urgently but his hands were ever gentle, ghosting over your bandages and caressing your skin with a feather-light tenderness that would have brought you to your knees had you not already been bedridden. Any hesitation or doubt melted away under the heat of his touch as all those years of tension sprung apart catastrophically. The knot you had carried in your stomach unfurled into flittering fireflies, their heat traveling up your stomach to your chest as his hands worked their way into your hair.

You didn’t know when they’d fallen, but you let out a shaky laugh as Geralt kissed away the tears on your cheeks, his thumb swiping at the tears his soft lips failed to catch. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against yours; his hands cupping your face as yours captured his.

Gods – this man was going to be the death of you.  

[jerzwriter]

Long Time Coming

Book:                    Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing:                 Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan)

Rating:                  Explicit/NSFW This fic contains explicit sexual content and is intended for those who are 18 + Only

Warnings:             Alcohol consumption,  explicit sexual content

Category:             Fluffy-ish Smut

Summary:            Kaycee and Ethan have been looking forward to this night for a long time, but when things go wrong, Kaycee drowns her sorrows...can they salvage the night?

Words:                 3331

A/N:                      I combined a couple recent asks, this one from @mvalentine​ for Ethan’s reaction to a drunk Kaycee telling him she has a boyfriend, and also several who were looking for them to have “WE NEED TO DO THIS ALREADY!” sex after the birth of their daughter. Well, here it is! I hope you enjoy it (these two sure did!)

 @choices-september-challenge-blog​ Day 21 – “Welcome Home”

My Masterlist

 CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS

This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go.

Rose and David picked Emma up hours ago and were now holed up in Naveen’s Cambridge home. Alan would join them tomorrow, and the four doting grandparents would probably spoil their precious baby granddaughter beyond repair this weekend.

The first weekend away from a new baby is never easy, but once their nerves settled, Ethan and Kaycee began counting the days. Emma filled their world with joy, but the opportunity to just be them again for forty-eight glorious hours was an opportunity they could not resist. Especially now.  

Kaycee got the green light from Dr. Collado last week. Despite her exhaustion, she bolted home, intent on jumping her husband the moment she walked through the door. It had been months… an absolute eternity! But complications late in her pregnancy and post-partum healing required abstaining, and she was anxious to put those days in the past.

But as she swung the door open, a bleary-eyed Ethan was pacing warily across the room. Kaycee saw the desperation in his eyes as he jiggled their screeching baby in his arms. Extending her own, she tried to calm Emma to no avail. Ethan tried again, and the pattern continued until the adorable little demon finally passed out. The only problem was her equally exhausted parents did too.

They thought they had this in the bag, but it was becoming clear… sex and romance with a newborn in the house would not be easy.  

“So,” Kaycee asked over breakfast the next day, “we’ll both be home by eight. If we can get Emma to sleep by nine, I think we can do it immediately after.”

Ethan placed his coffee mug on the counter with a chuckle.   “We’re penciling each other in for sex now?”

“No! I’m putting you in with permanent marker! Ethan, it’s been months! I’m dying… the only reason I’m not screwing you on this table right now is because we can’t be late for work today.” She looked at her husband with concern. “Wait, you’re eager too. Aren’t you?”

“Yes!” he assured, “I absolutely am. It’s just….”

“It’s just?” Panic began to rise in her chest as terrible thoughts raced in her mind.

“I just don’t want us putting that pressure on ourselves. Because then if we can’t, it becomes a problem.”

She hated when he was so logical. Especially when she was so horny, but she knew he was right. That night ended up being a repeat of the one before. And the next day, Kaycee begged him for a quickie in his office. “Like the old days…” she pleaded. But Mr. Maturity stopped them again.  

“We’ve waited this long. Our parents will have Emma this weekend… after all this time, let’s make it special.”

She relented, and they planned. They would make the entire week one long foreplay session! Teasing each other day and night. The second her parents walked out that door, they’d be naked, and the two-day “fuck-fest USA” would be underway! They stocked up on champagne, wine, and strawberries and planned on ordering in food all weekend long – there was only one thing on the agenda – they couldn’t wait.

Friday night was finally upon them when….

“What do you mean you have to stay late tonight! My parents are getting Emma at six!”

“I know! And you know I want to be there, but this is urgent, Kaycee.”

“Fine,” she sighed, “what time do you think you’ll be home?”

“Eight, the latest.”

“Well,” she groaned, “I guess I can wait two hours. Promise you won’t be a moment later.”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

At eight o’clock, she reclined on their sofa, her body scantly clad in strips of lace and silk so small, some would say why bother. But the thought of Ethan tearing them off her before they leaped into a refreshing pool after months lost in the desert left her tingling. She poured a glass of wine and waited.

At eight-thirty, with her second glass of wine finished, she tapped anxiously on the glass on her phone. Wanting to reach out to him but knowing she should be patient. She decided to wait.

Nine o’clock. No husband. No call. She considered checking to see if any wild horses were, in fact, loose on the streets of Boston. Her lingerie-clad body was now wrapped in a fleece blanket; these things weren’t made to be worn alone long-term. It felt as if the candlelight, roses, and now empty bottle of wine were mocking her as the night dragged on.   Finally, her phone chimed. But she only needed to see the first line for her head to fling back in frustration.

But the night wasn’t through toying with Kaycee’s emotions. The bar was strangely quiet, so she texted a few friends who promised to be there soon, but they also got stuck at work with emergencies. She needed to associate with people outside the medical field. But she was determined to make the best of it, but the only people she knew were Bob from Accounting and a resident she didn’t recognize who gushed over her entirely too much. Feeling sorry for herself, Kaycee lost count of the number of drinks she ordered.  

Ethan strolled into the nearly empty bar several hours later and found his wife slumped against the wall in the booth she usually shared with her friends. His eyes shifted from her to Reggie, who shook his head with a smile while drying glasses.  

“You couldn’t have cut her off?” Ethan asked, approaching him.

“Hey, the bar wasn’t this empty all night, my friend. I do what I can.”

Without being asked, Reggie placed two large glasses of water before his friend.

“So,” Ethan sighed. “How bad was she.”

“Not too bad. Some amusing dance moves with Bob from Accounting.”

“Oh, God…” Ethan grimaced.

“She may have told me her husband was a jerk for leaving her alone tonight,” Reggie shrugged. “I agreed with her. After all, sometimes that guy can be an asshole.”

Ethan took the glasses and laughed, “Sometime, I’d agree.”

A flurry of emotions coursed through him as he slid in beside his wife. Amusement, endearment, a little bit of guilt. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. As he nudged her awake and pushed the glasses of water in front of her, he promised himself he’d make it up to her during the next two days. But as she began to stir, he understood the gravity of the situation he stumbled upon.

“Wake up, beautiful,” he whispered. “I know you think I’m a toad right now, but I promise one kiss, and I’ll be Prince Charming again.”

Kaycee grimaced as she began to stir, covering her eyes after glimpsing at him.

“Your pickup lines suck!” She groaned. “Do they actually work on anyone?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled. “I haven’t used them in a while.”

“Good!” she stammered. “But you’ll have to try them on someone else tonight. I have a boyfriend!”

“Oh, you do?” Ethan grinned.

“I do. So go away!”

“You sure you don’t want to replace him? What kind of a boyfriend leaves you alone here on a Friday night?”

“My boyfriend is very important!” she slurred. “He is busy with important things… because he is important. You wouldn’t understand that!”

“No, I guess not,” Ethan replied. He held a straw to her lips and watched as she did her best to sip down some water. “Though I must admit, it’s very upsetting to me to learn that you have a boyfriend.”

“Why?” She spat. “I wouldn’t go out with you anyway.”

“Really? That’s a shame… because you married me.”

Kaycee’s eyes shot open wide as the world came into focus – sort of.

“I married you?”

“Yep. Even had my child,” he laughed, rubbing his nails with pride.

“Was I drunk?” She asked.

“The whole time?” He laughed. “No, you weren't, but you are now. Drink some water. We’re going to get you sobered up.”

An hour later, Reggie approached their booth. “Hey, kids, I don’t want to break up this party, but I’m about to close up.”

“Mmmmhhhh,” Kaycee moaned as she snuggled on Ethan’s shoulder. “I’m not ready to go yet.”

Ethan looked at his friend with an air of desperation.

“You know what,” Reggie said, tossing a key across the table. “If I can’t trust you, who the hell can I trust. Just make sure the place is locked before you leave.”

“You sure?” Ethan asked as Reggie walked away, waving his hand.  

“I’ve got no worries with you, and neither should you, young lady.”

“It’s OK,” Kaycee giggled. “I sober enough to remember he’s my husband again.”

“And so far, she seems to believe that’s a good thing,” Ethan jested.  

She wrapped her arms around him, taking comfort in his familiar scent as he held her close.  

“I’m sorry,” she grimaced, “I had no intention of getting drunk. I didn’t realize pregnancy killed my alcohol tolerance.”

“It’s ok,” he laughed. “Reggie tells me you were stuck with Bob from Accounting, and he’d make anyone want to black out.”

Kaycee laughed as she sat up, her head no longer spinning. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not. But, let’s get you home and ensure you’re well enough for… other things… tomorrow.”

Kaycee met him with a mischievous gaze that had him raising an eyebrow.

“Why put off until tomorrow what you can do today. You know that picture I sent you?”

“As if I could forget.”

“I’m still wearing it.”

“You are?”

“I am,” she smiled, rising to her feet and tugging at her clothes. “Underneath all of this.”

Ethan watched in reverent awe as his wife slowly inched her sweater above her head. Forcing him to wait much longer than necessary.

“What are you doing?”

“We have the bar to ourselves.” Turning around, she peered coquettishly over her shoulder as she dropped her jeans to the floor. “Tell me you haven’t had a fantasy or two about doing this?”

“Kaycee… what if there are security cameras we don’t know about?”

She hoisted herself onto the bar with much more grace than she expected and steadied herself with a playful laugh. With a dramatic show, she spread her legs wide, a barstool supporting each foot as she leaned seductively in toward her bended knees.

“Then I’m about to make one hell of a video, Dr. Ramsey. Now, is it going to be a solo show, or do you care to join me?”

A nervous but tantalizing smile spread on his lips as he rushed to stand before her. Cupping her cheeks in his hands, he stared lustfully into her crystal blue eyes. With one look, she made it painfully clear that she would submit to his every wish. Dizzy with desire, he slid his hand along the outside of her smooth, creamy thighs.

“You’re out of your mind, Kaycee. You know that, right?”

“Perhaps,” she grinned, her hands dipping below his waist and gently stroked his harness as he began to groan. “But it looks like you’re enjoying it.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to go home,” he asked, his hands exploring the bare skin on her torso.

“Ethan, it’s been over four months! I don’t want to wait another second.”

“Thank God,” gasped, his mouth tugging at her ear, “because neither do I.”

Kaycee’s back arched as he held her close, the sensation of his warm mouth trailing down the length of her neck causing her breath to hitch. He stopped at her collarbone, gently kissing and sucking at her delicate skin, before slipping his fingers under the lace cup of her bra. Her body quivered, and a shallow groan escaped as he toyed with her the way only he had ever known how.

“You think you’re the only one who is a little depraved,” he growled as his mouth dropped down to service her breast.

“I never said that,” she gasped, caressing his hair as his tongue swirled around her.

Her hips gyrated on the hardwood surface, her body longing for more of his touch. He bit her nipple lightly, and her eyes clenched shut. “Quite impatient, aren’t we,” he chuckled with a graveled voice.

“Ethan,” she shrieked, voice full of want. “I haven’t had you in four months! I need you.”

“You need me?” he teased, standing, he brought his lips back to hers. His fingers slid under her panties and were saturated with just one touch. Pulling the wetness from her core, he slowly swirled his fingers through her folds, taking great pleasure in watching her lose control before him. She was all his.

“How badly would you say you want me?” he asked, pressing a finger gently inside her.

A broken whimper came from her throat, but words… he didn’t expect her to formulate words, did he? Not with his warm mouth again encircling her nipple and his fingers, now two deep inside, teasing out her pleasure below.

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, teeth tugging at her sensitive peak. “How bad do you want me?”

“So… so bad,” her voice quaked as she shamelessly grinded against his hand, desperate for more. Her eyes shut tight in eager anticipation as unintelligible worlds fell from her lips.

“Would this help?”

A loud shriek filled the air as a third finder thrust deep inside, and he began rocking his hips against her, pushing firmly against her most sensitive spot.

Despite his own mounting pleasure, he smiled in delight as he watched her crumble, her body trembling as she clung desperately to him.

“Come on, beautiful,” he whispered lustfully in her ear. “Let go,” he gasped as his thumb made its way to her swollen clit, pressing hard as he furiously encircled her.

“Ethan… I… I….” she breathed.

“That’s right,” he smiled. “Come for me, precious. I want you to come for me.”

She felt a burst as she clenched around his fingers. So tight he had to fight to keep them working her through. Her head flipped back with a curse as her gasps filled the empty space around them. Ethan again lowered his mouth to her breast, scraping his teeth against her. Her hips lurched off the bar. She pulled him so close she no longer knew where she ended and he began. Her body convulsed with pleasure once more before she went limp. Falling breathlessly onto her elbows behind her.

When her eyes finally opened, she found him staring down at her with wanton lust in his eyes, his hand still lazily tracing circles inside her. His heart raced, and he was certain that he would explode if he didn’t have her soon. Her disheveled hair, flushed skin, and the way her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she gazed up at him with unadulterated bliss. He did that. He did that to the woman he loved most in the world, and now he had to have more.

Without a word, his hands hurried to his waist. She watched as he unbuckled his pants and dropped them to the floor.  

“Thank God,” Kaycee sighed as she helped remove his shirt. “I was wondering when you were going to get naked with me.”

“You’re not naked,” he groaned.

Kaycee looked down at the whisps of fabric covering her, all pushed to the side so he could access whatever his heart desired.

“Well, I’m hardly clothed,” she giggled.

“It’s still too much.”

She felt his hand grasp the fabric between her legs, then, with a quick snap and burning sensation, her panties joined his pants on the wooden floor.

“Wow! You really go after what you want?” she smiled.

Laying her flat on the bar, his palms pushed her legs apart, then he took her in his arms as he climbed on top of her. A look of longing she had never before seen burned in his eyes. His breath was now coming in pants, and he pulled her in for another kiss.

“You know the only thing I want is you.”

“Then have me,” she purred, lowering her hands to spread her lips for him.

With a guttural groan, Ethan softly pushed inside her, slowly at first, to ensure she was all right, but also so he could relish every second as her silky walls enveloped him, squeezing against him, welcoming him back home. A curse escaped him when she took him in completely.  

“Kaycee,” he gasped. “Are you OK?”

“I’d be better if you were fucking me,” she said with a sexy grin.

Then she watched as his eyes turned dark. Something feral awakened inside. Permission had been granted; now, he was taking what he needed, all he desired… she was his. Each thrust was deep, desperate, longing to fill a need that had gone too long unfulfilled. The mix of pleasure and pain as her nails scraped the length of his back and the beautiful noises escaping her brought him closer and closer to the edge.

She gazed up at him adoringly as she felt her own pleasure beginning to crest once more, beads of his sweat splashing onto her bare skin. She lifted her legs, and he helped her shift her heels above his shoulders; they both gasped as he filled her again, deeper, harder, faster than before. She cried out as ecstasy overtook her.

“Ethan….” her voice quivered, ‘Ethan… I….”

“Say my name, baby… say my name for me.”

“I… I… can… I….”

“Say it!” he hissed through clenched teeth as she arched her back up, pressing against him as she met him, move for move.

Her eyes fluttered shut as the world flashed bright white around her, ripples of unabashed pleasure racing through every inch of her body.  

“ETHAN!” she cried as she squeezed tightly around him.

“That’s my girl,” he gasped as he began to jerk on top of her.  

“KAYCEE!” He screamed as he came to his own release, spilling deep inside her.

 They didn’t know how long they lay atop the wooden bar. Both spent Ethan’s head rested upon her breast. Feeling drunker than she had before, Kaycee mindlessly twirled his sweat-soaked. Leaning over, she kissed his forehead with a smirk on her lips.  

“Welcome home,” she whispered as he chuckled against her.

“It’s good to be home,” he smiled.  

“Well, not exactly home, more like at our favorite bar.”

“You know what I mean,” he teased as he rose to his elbows and looked her in the face. “That was….”

“Well worth the wait.”

“You can say that again,” he concurred.

“So, have you ever thought about doing it on this bar?”

“There aren’t many places I haven’t envisioned doing this to you,” he grinned, “But I thought we would at least have done it in front of my spot.”

“Aw,” Casey whined, twisting her neck to look at Ethan’s chair. “Well, we can do it there later if you want. After we recover a bit.”

“As delightful as that sounds, why don’t we clean up here and go home? There are several softer surfaces I’d like to explore with you.”

Kaycee raised her mouth to his and they shared one more sensual kiss.

“You’ve got a deal!” 

One week later:

“Hey, buddy!” Reggie sang as he slid a napkin in front of Ethan at the bar. “Where’s the Mrs. today?”

“She’s still at work. She’ll be down later.”

“Good, always good to see your better half. Now, what’ll it be, the usual?”

“You know me by now,” Ethan stated.  

“I thought I did,” Reggie replied, pouring Ethan’s favorite scotch into a tumbler. “But over ten years you’ve been coming here now… Care to share why a creature of habit like you has suddenly changed your seat?”

Ethan snorted as he lowered his glass back to the bar and wiped his lips. He looked at his old friend with a half smile and firmly answered. “No.”

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