#and it took so much effort and i kept thinking about how Fucking Tired i am and how frustrating it is that playing cards w family

[shirogane-oushirou]

[cw vent: chronic illness, general world politics mention w no detail)

"man. i'm so tired. i feel like i can't do anything selfship related. is it because my energy's been sapped from family visiting and everyone wanting to do ~summer activities~ nonstop? am i so in my head about "getting ren's story right without stepping over any lines" that i've backed myself into a perfectionist corner? is the world just going to shit so hard that i can't have one (1) minute of escape on this blog before going back to working through the political hellscape we're in? god even trying to make this plushie pattern is killing me even though i want to hold my guy So Badly AUGH."

/finishes the plushie pattern after trying multiple body bases and literally buying a japanese ebook about plushie face and hair design/

"actually what if i lived forever and spent all of that time making an army of these fuckers to swim in? what then?"

[prismuffin]

Heya i wanted to do an ask about how batman, superman, green lantern, flash would react to a magic user reader who prefers using a gun. Like his spell book is just floating beside him in battle open but he just uses his gun instead.

Also i hope u have great day :3

Let’s do a classic DC ask as a small comeback! Anyways I think that-

Batman would have expected you to show him up a bit, like Constantine has before. But when in battle the last thing he expected you to do was pull out a fucking gun??? You had your spell book floating beside you as you came to his aid, it let out an ethereal glow that exuded power, surely you were going to release some pretty potent magic right? Welp forget all that, you just straight up shot the guy you were fighting. He found it quite humorous and after the fight he immediately asked what the gun was all about. You said you had to catch the guy off guard, saying that you found it more straightforward than using magic all the time, especially since that can be taxing at times, and he wasn’t worth the small fatigue that would’ve plagued you afterward. Every time he sees you just pull out a gun rather than using magic he can’t help but find it a bit amusing.

Superman would be rather shocked to see you suddenly pull out a gun. I mean, he gets it if you were too tired or if it was a last resort but your spell book was floating right beside you, still open and ready to be channeled. He wondered why you would handicap yourself, surely your spells are much stronger than any old lead bullet. After the fight he’d question you on it, and when you said it was just more practical and less mentally taxing he’d still suggest that you should use your strong spells since that’s what makes you such a good fighter. You decided to prove him wrong by only using your gun for the rest of that mission, also just to tease him a bit.

Hal would be genuinely confused. He’d also be somewhat concerned, had you overworked yourself and now this was your last resort? He’d let out a chuckle as he asked what the hell you were doing mid-fight. You just said that these goons were starting to piss you off and he was suddenly a little more scared of you. You were already pretty powerful with your spells but to know that when you get angry or annoyed this is what you resort to, had him a little fearful. At least he knows not to get on your bad side.

Barry would straight up bust out laughing as soon as he saw you say fuck it and just start shooting. He’d stop mid-fight just to laugh, speaking between his laughter and only speeding to get away from some of the guys that were trying to fight or shoot him as he questioned out loud why you just did that. You couldn’t help but smirk before saying that these guys were so bad it wasn’t even worth the effort of using any of your spells. He agreed with you, saying that he was barely even speeding to get away from these dudes. You both just kept bashing on their fighting styles and aim as you took them out without even trying for the most part. You two left that mission laughing at the lack of effort it took, he’ll never get over you just defaulting back to using a gun in a fight it’s the funniest thing to him.

———

I miss writing :)

Directory

[littlelovelunette]

Alright girl. TBH this is bad but I wanna read this. Can you please make a story where the reader fakes it and it pisses off Vi so then as the reader’s punishment vi fucks her in her sleep and then when the reader wakes up she is a fucking mess down there of cum and wetness. Now she tries to move away because she is to sensitive but vi changed her up and kept fucking her with a smile of her face and says the next time you wanna fake it you better think twice. And the reader is like how did you know so vi respond with. “I know your body it was basically fucking made for me slut. I know when you cum and I know damn well when I see a pathetic act like that.”

Through The Night

Vi x Brat!Reader

Fingering, fake orgasm, mild somnophilia, overstimulation, squirting, degradation, cnc, oral, pussy slaps.

☆ Vi always took pride in the way she had women cumming all over either her fingers, tongue or strap within minutes. She was just that good with women. But you defied her at every way possible. Whether it be different sex positions and different toys— Vi struggled to get you to finish. And you weren't surprised. But sometimes seeing Vi putting in so much effort she'd actually break a sweat made pity pool at your gut. You didn't want the poor puppy upset now.

"Fuck, Vi, I'm close," your walls fluttered around her fingers and Vi's eyes instantly lit up, she excitedly glanced up at you. Her thumb worked diligent little circles on your clit as you squeezed her digits with your gummy walls. "G-gonna make me cum."

Your head tilted back as you tried to rut your hips up, trying to get more friction. Vi pushed them down and added in a third finger, curling them just right. Your mouth was agape as you squeezed her digits, "I'm cumming!" You lied through your teeth.

Vi knew it.

Jaw set tight and teeth grinding as she cleaned up.

She still babied you though. You were tired from the hours while Vi had been trying to get you to have an orgasm. So the moment your back hit the soft, comfortable, warm and fresh sheets of the bed, you passed the fuck out.

☆ A slow tingling sensation roused you. "V-Vi..." You stuttered and your eyes snapped open. There she was, between your legs with her lips pressed against your pelvis.

"What a pleasant surprise, huh?" Vi licked your clit.

"Hey, stop!" You tried to pry her away but her arms hooked around your thighs, holding you down and latching herself to your body.

"See all this?" Vi slapped your cunt and spread your pussy lips roughly using two fingers, "All this was made by me," she referred to the mess of slick and cum. How long had she kept her mouth buried in your pussy?

You had no idea.

You were an utter mess as you screamed and cried, head tossing from one side to another as Vi devoured your pussy, she pulled back every now and then to deliver a sharp, wet smack to your throbbing cunt.

☆ "Vi, stop, please, stop," you tried to crawl away from her, whimpering as you clawed at the sheets and squirmed about.

Vi's gaze darkened and another harsh smack landed on your pussy, this one aimed directly at your sensitive clit. You screamed, tears burning the corners of your eyes as the warm liquid dripped down your temples.

"Oh, my filthy slut," she said venomously. "Better suck it up, it's gonna be a long night ahead of you," and then she went back at it.

[hgfictionwriter]

Long Distance Call

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you are doing the long distance thing. What's she to do when you surprise her with a fun photo?

Warning: Smut. Phone sex. Explicit language!

A/N: Based on this request.

“Alright, everyone. Settle in. We have a big game this Friday and we’ve got lots to go through to prepare. Let’s look at some footage.”

Jessie was honed in on the analysis until she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. Coach was addressing the defenders, so Jessie took the opportunity to check.

Jessie had to stifle a gasp, nearly choking in the process as she shot straight up in her chair so aggressively that it caused the chair to scrape loudly against the floor. The noise immediately drew curious looks from the team.

“Sorry,” she offered quietly as a deep blush began to radiate off her cheeks.

It wasn’t the “Morning, baby 🥰” message that’d caught her so off guard. It was the accompanying picture of your mostly naked body that had her shook.

She’d alluded to wanting photos like this, you know, for some added inspiration while you were apart, but you’d never followed through - until now.

Jessie subconsciously cleared her throat as she settled back into her seat. It took valiant effort to not fidget and squirm as heat was now pooling in a totally different area than her face.

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she tried desperately to refocus on game day tactics, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking of how she was going to get you back for messing with her. Mostly though, she thought of how she wanted to fuck you ragged until you could barely think and the only words coming from your mouth would be her name.

But she couldn’t. Not a while anyway. She swallowed her irritation and frustration. Long distance sucked.

“What was that all about?”

Janine’s overly intrigued query caught Jessie’s attention as the blonde fell into step with her as they were all leaving the meeting. Of course Janine had to inquire.

“Nothing really. A reminder came through on my phone and I thought I’d missed something, but it’s all good,” Jessie fibbed.

“Uh huh,” Janine responded, clearly not buying it, but benevolently let it go. “So, what are you up to tonight?”

“Dreaming of fucking my girlfriend silly,” Jessie thought.

“Not much. Maybe a bit more prep for the game, but I’m pretty tired, so it’ll be a low key evening,” she said instead. “You?”

“It’s date night,” Janine said with a bright smile. A moment later she offered an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard with Y/N so far away. How many weeks until you see her again?”

“5,” Jessie responded without missing a beat. She could even tell Janine the exact number of days if she’d asked, and there was a countdown on Jessie’s lock screen to prove it.

“It’ll go by quickly,” Janine said with dogged positivity. Jessie nodded and gave her a half smile.

“I know.”

Laughter suddenly erupted from a group of their teammates, drawing Janine’s attention away and leaving Jessie to fall back enough to find some privacy. When she was sure she was alone, she opened your text once more.

She inhaled deeply as she took in the image and a smirk tugged at her lips. She replied.

“Best text ever. Well, surprising - I opened it during analysis, btw! You look so fucking sexy. I miss you so much. I can’t express it. I wish I was coming home to you.”

She locked her screen and was about to leave when her phone buzzed again.

“That would be too much fun 😘. I wish I was waiting at home for you.”

Jessie expelled a slow, shaky breath. It was going to be a long afternoon.

By the time Jessie got home, the heat between her legs had only gotten worse. The image of you was burned in her mind and she kept replaying past times you made love and kept envisioning what she’d do to you if you were around.

She dropped her bag by the front door and immediately opened up the picture you sent.

“Fuck,” she breathed as she took you in.

She walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on it and immediately tucked a hand underneath the waistband of her shorts and into her underwear.

“Jesus,” she muttered when she felt how wet she was just from picturing you. She ran her fingers through her folds and dipped them briefly inside. The wet sounds each motion made would’ve made her blush on some occasions, but not today. She drew her fingers back and began circling her clit as she looked at your naked body.

She was releasing a heavy breath when her phone suddenly vibrated and a notification came up startling her. She drew her hand out of her shorts immediately and her heart raced until her mind caught up, realizing it was you calling.

She took a few deep breaths before she answered.

“Hey babe,” she said, still feeling hot and flustered in a couple of ways.

“Hi baby,” you greeted cheerfully. “How was training?”

“Uh, good,” Jessie said, a bit stilted in her reply as she tried to refocus. “Yeah, it was a long day, but good. How was yours?”

“The day was fine,” you answered easily. “I missed you. In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie breathed as she was brought right back to what she was doing a moment ago. “That was,” she struggled to find the words, “so hot. I was not expecting that at all. But holy shit - you are so sexy.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to make sure you miss me, too,” you joked.

“No challenge there.” Jessie breathed heavy into the phone.

“Well, if I can’t be there in person, the least I can do is give you some inspiration.” You told her in a flirtatious tone. Jessie gave a breathy chuckle.

“Mission accomplished.”

“Mmm, is that so?” You asked, a lilt in your voice. “Tell me more.”

“Um,” Jessie felt her cheeks start to warm. “You’re just super sexy.” She paused momentarily before relenting, lowering her voice unnecessarily to a near-whisper. “And I was definitely wet.”

You didn’t skip a beat. “Mm, baby. Tell me more. Did you think you were wet or did you confirm?”

Jessie blushed further. “Confirmed,” she nearly mumbled.

“God. I wish I was between your legs right now. I’d love to taste you and see for myself just how wet you are.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jessie’s voice was raspy and she fidgeted in place as the need between her legs was reignited and began to pulse once more. She cleared her throat quietly and added, “Pretty fucking wet.”

“Right now?” You asked. Jessie hummed a bit before replying.

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, baby, don’t tease me,” you told her and she responded with a short laugh.

“Excuse me? Who’s teasing who here?”

“You know, for someone who wanted nudes and finally got one, you seem to be complaining,” you joked, knowing she’d offer an immediate rebuttal.

“I’m not! I fucking loved it. And yes, I’m wet right now,” Jessie countered. She fidgeted again and went on in a hushed voice. “In fact, I was…you know, doing stuff, when you called.”

“Jesus,” you said with a sharp inhale. “Now that is the sexiest thing. Oh my god, Jess.” She could hear the satisfied grin in your voice. “Don’t let me stop you,” you went on in a soft voice. “Maybe I can even help you.”

“Yeah?” Jessie asked, shifting her jaw subconsciously and very intrigued now. “How so, baby?”

“Imagine it’s my hand between your legs. Lower the phone and let me hear how wet I make you,” you instructed.

Jessie grit her teeth, eyes rolling into the back of her head already at the events that were unfolding. She gave you want you wanted; lowering the phone and dipping her fingers back through her slick folds. Her arousal was obvious right away.

She held the phone back up, but began to circle her clit.

“Holy fuck, Jessie. That was so incredibly sexy. I’m aching for you - I need you so bad.”

“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She rubbed her clit with a firmer touch and rocking her hips up in slow gyrations. “I was so wet at training too just thinking about what I’d do to you if you were here.”

“Baby, please, tell me,” you pleaded. You heard her chuckle softly, but you detected how her breathing grew heavier in your ear.

“Only if you’re a good girl,” Jessie smirked. “Touch yourself for me. Two fingers - tracing around your clit and between your lips. Dip them down until you can tell me how wet you are for me.”

“Oh my God.” You nearly panted. Jessie often took control in the bedroom, but you hadn’t explored this facet of it before. Hearing her speak like this was unexpected, but so sexy. You did as you were told and moaned softly into the phone. “Baby, I’m dripping wet,” you told her as you drew your fingers back up and the tips were covered in your juices.

Jessie groaned into the phone and bit her lip.

“Just what I like to hear,” she affirmed as she continued to rub circles around her swollen clit. “God, I miss fucking you.”

You groaned in need and agreement as you continued to run your fingers through your lips and grazing your clit. “Me too, baby. My fingers and toys just aren’t the same.”

Jessie breathed heavy as a satisfied grin crossed her face. “Damn right they’re not.” She moaned faintly as her hips bucked against her hand. “If you were here, I’d have you on your back, legs on my shoulders as I pin you down, and I’d be knuckle deep in you.” She dipped her fingers inside of herself and her eyes fluttered shut. “God, I can feel your cum all over my fingers. And you know I love the way you start to pool around my knuckles and in my palm.”

“Jess,” you panted. “Oh my god. Keep going. I love the way you fill me up. The way you fit perfectly inside of me, stretching me just right.”

“Fuck, baby,” Jessie breathed as she went back to rocking her hips against her fingers on her clit. “You’re perfect for me. I’d be stroking you hard and deep. I’d be pumping my whole body against yours I’d be fucking you so hard. The bed would bang against the wall every time I bottom out inside of you, pushing you deeper into the mattress.”

“Oh god, Jessie, you fuck me so good,” you praised. You could vividly picture the prideful and smug look on her face and it turned you on even more.

People loved talking about how humble Jessie was. But when it came to fucking and pleasing you, there was nothing humble about her. And frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I love when you say my name,” Jessie said, her voice growing strained as her breathing continued to pick up. She grinned once more. “But I love it even more when you scream it.”

You moaned loudly into the phone, letting your head fall back as you rubbed your clit harder and faster.

“So make me,” you challenged her.

Jessie groaned, biting her lip again, her back arching off the couch. “I love you so much,” she breathed with a laugh of appreciation. “Baby, you know I’d be hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. I’d be making sure that every time I fill you to the hilt I’m sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. My thumb’s on your clit, circling and rubbing it. And after I kiss you deeply, my lips hard on yours, I’ll kiss your neck.

“I won’t mean to suck on your skin too hard, but feeling you buck and writhe beneath me, moaning in my ear as I pump in and out of you makes me fucking feral for you. Like I can’t get close enough or love you hard enough. I mark you, but I don’t feel so bad about it because that’s how much I want you, to the point where I can’t control myself.

“When you moan as I latch down on your neck, I push a third finger inside of you. You wrap around me tightly, but you’re so fucking wet I just slip in. Feeling your walls grip me and pulse around me as I move nearly sends me into a frenzy.”

“Jesus Christ, Jess. I’m so close,” you warn her, your voice high and faint.

“I can feel your body start to tense up. Your legs start to shake and your breath quickens as I continue. I curl my fingers inside of you, relishing each punctuated moan you release each time I make contact. Your arousal is pooling on the sheets now as I’m driving my hips into you. I’m absolutely soaked because of how sexy and beautiful you are beneath me.”

“Holy shit. Jessie.” Your eyes screwed shut and her name was loud and strained as your climax hit. “I’m cumming.”

“Umph,” Jessie moaned as she bit her lip. “Baby girl. So fucking hot,” she said as she bucked her hips against her fingers which desperately rubbed her sensitive clit. The tightening sensation deep in her core built rapidly as she heard you cumming in her ear and she envisioned your body against hers.

A tight groan worked its way up Jessie’s throat as her core began to pulsate. Her hips jerked against her fingers as she brought herself over the edge.

You both whimpered and breathed heavy into the phone as you rode out your joint orgasms. Jessie’s chest heaved up and down and she slumped into the couch, her underwear thoroughly soaked through and too lazy to remove her hand from them. She could barely hold up the phone and had yet to open her eyes. Eventually, you spoke.

“Babe. That was insane. And totally incredible,” you relayed in pure appreciation and admiration. “You’re amazing.”

Jessie chuckled languidly, slowly opening her eyes.

“Amazing what one can do with a great muse.”

You laughed. “Well, I have to say, long distance may not be quite so unbearable if we have repeats like this.”

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” Jessie assured you. “You send me fun photos, and I promise I’ll take good care of you. Deal?”

“Deal.” You agreed with a breathy laugh.

“For real though,” Jessie started, “I really miss you. I love you, you know that, right?”

Again, you chuckled. Of course you knew. And you knew how lucky you were too.

“I know, baby. I love you, too. And I miss you more than you know.”

[slowdrawl]

[DESCENT] Circle I — Limbo |JoelMillerXf!reader| AU ONE-SHOT | 5.5k | MASTERLIST Limbo. The space between wanting and deserving. The descent begins here.

He left to protect her future. Three years later, she’s got a boyfriend and a diploma. He’s got guilt and a voice she still dreams about. One phone call. No closure. No forgiveness. Just the slow ache of never letting go.

a/n : In an effort to write oneshots, I'm challenging myself to write, and take you and Joel through each circle of hell. Nine alternate universes. Nine versions of Joel Miller. In each, you fall a little further into ruin, into him. 18+ minors dni |warnings| explicit sexual content, f/m masturbation, age gap, emotional themes, angst, power dynamics, infidelity adjacent, unresolved tension, phone sex.

Inspired by Dante’s Inferno (This one is MOSTLY in Joel's POV) You had promised yourself, promised her. 

That you’d become a ghost.

She deserved better. More. 

She deserved the whole world, more than anyone else. And you couldn’t give it to her. Not with Sarah still so little, still looking to you for everything. 

Not with her being so young, still glowing and full of life with that big, bright future ahead of her. You were already tired. Already weighed down. She was light. She needed to stay that way. You couldn’t ruin her anymore.

So you promised to become a ghost.

It was the only thing that made sense to you at the time. You both agreed to try to make it work when she left for Boston. Said the distance wouldn’t make a difference. But you knew better. Love like that doesn’t get to last—not when it starts off so wrong. Not when it’s built on guilt and secrecy, on late nights and hidden touches. She was too good to be destroyed by a man like you. Too pure.

You drove her to the airport, you kissed her goodbye for the last time. And then you waited.

Waited until she had her feet under her, until she was settled into the city, making friends, finding her way. Then you called her. Broke her heart on the phone, like some teenage punk who didn’t know how to handle his feelings. But it was calculated.

“Joel. I don’t know where this is coming from, baby, please don’t—” Her voice shook, throat barely squeezing the words out. “I’m gonna get on a flight, we’re not doin’ it like—”

You cut her off.

“You’re not catchin’ no fuckin’ plane. See, this is it. This is why I’m doing this.”

Your words came out sharp, cold—venom, because kindness would've made her stay. And you couldn’t let her. Not this time.

“I’m not gonna let you stop living your life for me,” you said. “I’m not gonna let you throw your future away just to come runnin’ back to some tired old man and a kid who ain’t even yours.”

She cried. She cursed you. Called you every name in the book, sealing it with “You’re a goddamn coward, Joel. I fucking hate you.”

And maybe you were a coward. Maybe you deserved her to fuckin’ hate you too.

But she hung up, and she never called back.

You kept your promise. But It felt like some part of you died.

So you became a ghost.

It had been nearly three years.

Long, quiet years. You didn’t date. Hell, you didn’t even look at another woman. Instead, you buried yourself in work and raising Sarah—who was old enough now to stay out late and give you grey hairs, old enough to roll her eyes when you got overprotective. You kept your head down. Kept the world out like you didn’t deserve to see it.

Some nights, you’d find yourself awake at 3 a.m., sitting on the couch with the TV muted, thinking about her. Missing her. Wondering if she missed you. If she hated you as much as she’d said she did. Sometimes you’d scroll through your camera roll, finding pictures you swore you’d delete but never could. Selfies from that road trip out west. Around the campfire. Her lying on the beach, tanning, smiling back at you in that damn red bikini.

You’d watch that one video you accidentally took instead of a picture. Christmas, four years back. She was underneath the tree with Sarah in her lap, matching pajamas and everything, laughing, saying, “Cheese.”

Every picture flashed the most vivid memories into your head, making you ache for what you had. Making you hate yourself more for what you did.

You’d sit there alone, in the dark, just infomercials flickering blue light on your face. Jaw clenched so hard you thought you’d break teeth. Hands gripping your knee like it was the only thing tethering you to reality.

You missed her. Missed her like hell. But you kept it buried.

Until today.

Because today, Sarah showed you some post goin’ around with college graduation photos. She didn’t know what she was doing to you, showing you that fucking screen. But she did. And there she was.

Beaming in a cap and gown. Glowing. Same bright light in her smile—but a bit older now. Beautiful.

There was some scrawny kid beside her, arm slung around her shoulder, wearing a damn T-shirt and jeans low on his hips.

The caption said: “I guess I’m a Social Worker now?? 🎉”

You could feel it in your teeth. Stomach churning at the sight of another man with his hands on her.

Of course she was seeing someone. Why wouldn’t she be? She wasn’t yours anymore.

But him?

He looked like a loser.

Probably never done a day of hard labor in his life.

And that light you’d buried inside yourself? That old, selfish thing you’d tried so damn hard to kill?

It flickered back in your chest.

That part of you came alive.

The rest of the day passed in a haze.

You didn’t mean to keep looking, to keep scrolling—but you did.

You looked through every picture, every tag. Her friends’ profiles. Their friends’ profiles. His.

He was a fuckin’ theatre kid. Facebook said he worked at Starbucks, set to become some teacher. If you had to guess, the kid probably had his tuition paid for by Mommy and Daddy. They had money; you’d seen the pictures of them on vacation in Bali, on their damn yacht.

But he was her age. And he probably had more in common with her, more to talk about. Less baggage.

Every post you opened was like a twist of a knife.

She looked so happy. Confident.

She looked lighted without you.

There was something shining in her eyes now that you had never seen before. Or maybe you just never paid enough attention.

But he did.

He was all over her page. Always touching her. Always smiling at her like he knew her.

Really knew her.

You were torturing yourself, stringing things together piece by piece like a serial killer, making up your own story of what she’d been up to.

It really shouldn’t have bothered you.

It did.

You slammed your laptop closed and looked at the clock. It was 10 p.m. You’d spent hours sleuthing, tearing yourself apart. You stared at the wall like it might offer you an explanation.

You could text her. Something simple. Something normal, friendly.

“Congratulations, proud of you.” Or even, “Sarah told me you did it, knew you would!”

She might not even respond. Or maybe she would—maybe she’d tell you to go to hell. To stop haunting her. Maybe she’d changed her number. Deleted yours. Blocked it. 

But maybe she didn’t.

You pulled out your phone and searched for her contact. Staring. Thumb hovering over her name.

Then dropped it. Back pocket. Done.

Ten minutes later, you did it again. Hovered. Stopped.

You put it in your nightstand drawer.

Eventually, you gave up and you poured yourself a drink. And then another. Then another.

You hadn’t let yourself think about her in months. Years. Not like this.

You buried her, along with all the other broken parts of you, in the back of your chest.

Swore you’d never dig her up.

But tonight? She clawed her way six feet up. Right to the surface.

////

You thought about him sometimes.

Not often, but often enough that he never really went away, you never really buried him. You’d find yourself thinking about him when you were alone—on the bus home from campus, brushing your hair out after a shower. When you were at the bar and Pearl Jam came on through the busted speakers. Something small would trigger it. When you smelled cedar. A stranger’s voice with a familiar southern drawl. Sometimes your own laugh would do it, loud and too raw—catching you off guard.

It had been three years and he still had a home in all of the soft places you didn’t talk about out loud.

You tried to forget, really tried. Spent a whole year trying to stop that ghost from haunting your apartment. You’d seen other people, let them touch you, let them kiss you; you even let one stay.

But nobody ever looked at you the way he did, like you hung the moon and stars all by yourself. A quiet kind of adoration he had for only you. Nobody else made you feel like you were the only person in a crowded room, like you were the movie star in a leading role of their life.

You hated him. You hated him for leaving, for making you beg, for creating this ache. You hated him for making you feel like you were something to be ashamed of.

But sometimes, late at night, you’d think about him. You’d pull out your old phone and scroll into your texts, everything still there, frozen in time. You would spend hours re-reading old messages, searching for answers. Maybe if you read them enough times you would be able to decode them. Figure out where and when it all went wrong. Fix it.

Sometimes you’d even look through those messages after your boyfriend had fallen asleep beside you.

You’d hover your fingers over his contact, name still saved, number still there. Never deleted. Sitting there untouched. Simmering below the surface. Waiting.

You hadn’t thought about him in months—not like this anyway.

But today you did.

Because you heard a buzz and caught a glimpse of the notification on your phone. Sarah liking your graduation photo.

It made your heart pound.

It made everything come back.

You closed your phone and let yourself miss him, and fuck did you ever miss him.

You decided to take a look at his Facebook page. Try to piece together what he’d been up to since he left.

There wasn’t much to cling to. Just a few pictures of Sarah, shared posts about him and Tommy’s construction company. Looked like they finally hired a graphic designer for their social media.

You scrolled all the way back to right before you left for school. A post with photos from your trip to Montana. A picture of you sitting by the campfire, Sarah next to you smiling, burning a marshmallow on the embers.

You sighed, closed your phone, and put it under your pillow.

You had no idea that you’d accidentally liked that post just now.

You don’t know it yet—but Joel saw it, too.

///

You hear your phone buzz against the pressboard and open the drawer, picking it up. You squint at the screen, half because you’re getting old and half because the booze is starting to make your vision a little foggy now.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. You do a double take. A triple take.

A notification glows on your home screen, a little box with her name, saying she liked some post. You tap the notification with shaky fingers, and it takes you to a photo of her from that camping trip. You swore those pictures were set to private—just for you. Hidden. Buried. Like everything else.

Why did she like that photo, out of all of them?

She was wrapped up in your flannel, barefoot in the dirt, smiling back at you. One of her arms was wrapped around Sarah, both of ’em sitting around the fire, that damn marshmallow a fireball. You had finally bought that travel trailer she kept buggin’ you about. It was your first trip of the summer. Sarah was so excited to have her own tent while the two of you stayed in the trailer. After she went to bed, the two of you stayed up drinkin’, giggling like little kids, keepin’ quiet so you didn’t wake her up.

You had sex…no, you made love that night. Slow. Intimate. You can still see it. Still hear her callin’ you baby like it was the first time she’d ever done it.

Fuck.

You reach for your drink.

Empty.

You grab the bottle, staring at her name on your phone.

You shouldn’t call her. You could. You shouldn’t.

You do.

You press call. Almost drop the phone like it burned you. Nearly hang it up.

But it only rang once.

“Hello?”

Her voice. Quiet. Cautious. Familiar in a way that makes you feel sick.

You freeze. Panic. Heart hammering. Throat gone dry.

“Joel? Is everything good?”

You grab your throat and try to shake the lump out of it. “Hi, yeah, I’m fine,” you mumble.

Silence.

There’s a pause. Not awkward—just thick. Heavy with all that hasn’t been said.

She breathes out first.

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear your voice again.”

You lean forward, elbow on your knee, gripping the bottle in your free hand. It feels dumb to say you didn’t either. You’d been thinking about this for hours. Since the day you ended things. But still—

“Didn’t think I’d ever actually call,” you say instead.

She made a soft little noise. A laugh. Or maybe a scoff.

“I figured I was blocked.”

You swallowed, the guilt stabbing. “Never. I wouldn't.”

“I know,” she let out an airy laugh. “I checked. A few times actually. Even called with my caller ID off.”

Another beat of silence stretches between you.

Not so cold now.

You stare at the floor, same spot you’d been staring at earlier. “Saw your post online,”.

“Since when do you have Instagram?”

“Sarah showed me.” Your voice goes a little rough. “Didn’t mean to look. Just… she showed me and—there you were.”

“Ahh, yeah,” she hums. “There I was.”

You hear her shift. Maybe on a bed or couch. Something creaks. Fabric rustling. You picture her in a dark room, legs tucked under her, phone pressed to her ear.

“I’m proud of you,” you mumble. “I mean that.”

“Thanks Joel,” Her voice is gentler now. Less guarded. “it took a lot longer than I thought. Wasn’t easy.”

“I believe it,” you murmur. “You always worked harder than everyone else, though.”

She doesn’t answer immediately.

“You sound tired,” she replies eventually.

You huff. “I always sound tired.”

“No, not like that,” she says. “You sound... older.”

That one lands right in your ribs.

“Couple of years’ll do that,” you say. “Especially when you got a teenager runnin’ around.”

“I saw a picture of her,” she said. “She’s really growin’ up. She’s beautiful.”

“She is. She’s... smart. Smarter than me, quick too. Got more attitude than I know what to do with.”

“She always did.”

You grin. Small. Quiet. But you smile.

The silence that follows is different. Not piercing. Not awkward. Just... fragile.

Then she broke it, barely above a whisper.

“Why now?”

You look up at the ceiling, then you look at the bottle. Still half full. Think about chugging it. Think about ending the call and turning the phone off. Think about lying.

But it’s been three years.

You’re done lying.

“I saw you,” you say finally. “That post. That damn smile. And it just… it did somethin’ to me. I couldn’t push it back down.”

She doesn’t speak.

You rub at your jaw, trying to find better words, but they aren’t coming.

“I dunno,” you mutter. “It was like—fuck—I just saw you and it all came right back to me.”

She makes a sound then. Nothing. Almost like her breath got caught.

You close your eyes, cringing.

“This was dumb, I shouldn’t have called,” you add quickly. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t,” she says, voice sharper now. “You’re not allowed to do that.”

You freeze.

“You don’t get to hang up again. Don’t get to act like it was a mistake. You called me, Joel. You. After all this time. After—” She cuts herself off. Then comes back softer. “You don’t get to drop that on me. Don’t get to bring me back there. Make me feel like that eighteen-year-old and then leave all over again. That’s not fair, Joel.”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to—”

“Yes, you were,” she chokes. “It’s what you’ve always done, I know you. You pull me in and then you run. So just—don’t. I can see through it now.”

You can’t find the words, not yet.

So she keeps talking. Spitting.

“I missed you, you know that?” Her voice cracks. “I hated you for it. I hated me. But I missed you every fuckin’ day. Even when I was with someone else. Even when I was happy.”

You grip the phone tighter.

“I still missed you. You and Sarah,” she whispers.

Your throat feels too thick to speak.

“I thought of picking up this phone so many times,” she says. “But I was scared. Scared you’d changed your number. Or that you’d fuckin’ answer. And you’d sound… alright. Like you forgot about me. Like you’d moved on.”

You find your voice. Barely. It comes out scratchy.

“I didn’t.”

Another silence. Different again. Raw. Charged with something.

“I never forgot about you,” you said. “Not for a damn second, baby gi—”

You stop. Panic hitting your teeth. You bite down on your fist like somehow you could shove the words back into your mouth.

She doesn’t reply right away. But you hear her breathing.

Steady.

Waiting.

You know exactly what she’s going to ask before she says it.

“Then why’d you leave?”

It’s not angry this time.

It’s desperate.

Like she’s tired.

And that’s worse.

You rub a hand down your face. Searching for the right words—but there aren’t any. Just the truth. And the truth is ugly.

The truth has always been so fuckin’ ugly.

“Because I loved you. Too damn much,” you say.

Silence. But not shocked silence. Like she already knew. Like she’s just been waiting for you to say the words.

You swallow.

“Because you were still twenty. And I was fuckin’ thirty-six. I had a daughter and a mortgage and a back that ached every damn morning. And you had… a life ahead of you waiting. And I didn’t want you giving up yours for mine.”

“You didn’t even give me a voice in any of it,” she says, like it choked her.

“I know.”

You hated how fast you say it. Like the guilt is sitting right there, crouched in your chest, waiting to be let out. Because it is. It always has been.

“I knew if I let you decide, you’d stay,” you continue. “You would’ve come back. Woulda’ dropped classes, missed out on everything, just to make it work with me. And I couldn’t... I couldn’t be the reason you didn’t get to experience life fully.”

“You were the life I wanted,” she whispers.

You close your eyes. Let it cut like a knife straight through your ribcage. Let it land in the hollow spot in your chest where her name used to echo.

“I thought I was doin’ what was best for us,” you say. “But I think about you every damn day. Every time I see someone wearin’ purple. Every time I drive past the airport. Every time I wake up and reach for someone who ain’t’ there.”

She hiccups, choking something back. 

“You made it sound so easy,” she says. “Like it was no big deal to let me go. Like I was just a set of chains you desperately needed rid of.”

“I had to make you hate me,” you reply, low like you don’t want her to hear it. “It was the only way you’d stop loving me.”

“Guess that didn’t work either.”

You both laugh. Honest. Sad.

Then her voice drops. Quiet and slow. Weaved with something sharp and aching.

“I never stopped, you know.”

You close your eyes, and it’s almost like she’s  there.

You say it like a prayer, like a promise. “I know,” you breathe. “Me neither, baby.”

Silence.

Not the heavy kind this time. This one pulses, alive.

She breathes out slow, like she’s been holding her chest still for minutes. You can hear it in her voice when she speaks next—thinner, smaller, but there’s something else in it, something different. Guilt maybe. Or shame.

“I’ve been seeing someone… for a while now,” she says.

Your heart seizes like you didn’t already know. “That so?” “I have a boyfriend. Joel”

You sit up straighter. The bottle in your hand nearly slips. Of course she did, you’d already seen his hands all over her through a screen. You’d seen the pictures. But hearing her say it?

“Right,” you reply. Sharper than you mean it to be.

“I thought you were gone,” she stammers. “You were. You didn’t call, Joel. We were done, I had to move on. I—I didn’t know if I’d even talk to you again, its been three years.”

“I wasn’t,” you snap, then stop yourself. Swallowing it down. “I’ve never been done.” You were gone though. That’s what made it worse. You make your voice calm, “I know baby, you’re not mine anymore.”

“He’s not…” she trails off. “He’s good. Nice. My friends like him. My mom likes him.”

“But you don’t love him.”

The words come out low. Flat. A statement, not a question.

She doesn’t reply.

“That’s what I figured” you mutter.

“I tried,” she says. “I really tried, I am trying.”

You let the silence sit there. Let it stretch until it’s  unbearable.

“Does he know?”

“What?”

“About me, bout’ Sarah.”

She hesitates. “No.”

That makes something dark flood through your veins. She hadn’t let him into that part of her life. Hadn’t given him you.

You lean your head back against the headboard and exhale through your nose.

“He make you laugh?” you ask, voice smoother now. Drawn out. Measured. “That loud, hiccupy laugh you used to hate? The one you’d try to hide behind your hand…”

Silence.

“He ever look at you like you hung the fuckin’ moon?” you keep going, spiraling. “Touch you like he was scared he’d wake up and find you weren’t real?”

“Joel—”

“Does he know how you like it?” you say, cutting her off. “Slow? Or real fuckin’ rough when you get all needy?” Your voice drops, gravely now. “You still get needy like that, baby girl?”

She gasps.

That sound does something to you. Sets your blood on fucking fire.

“You shouldn’t—” she starts to protest.

“You can hang up whenever you want,” you say. “But will you?”

She doesn’t—won’t, you know her still, like the back of your hand. You can hear her breaths getting quicker now, little pants that make you feel feral. Can almost feel the warmth of it against your skin, like it used to be, her mouth pressed to your neck in the dark.

“Tell me to quit,” you growl. “Say it, and I’ll stop.”

She doesn’t.

Not for a long, long second.

“I can’t,” she whispers, like she’s convincing herself.

It’s small. Sweet. But it shatters something in you. Broke the seal on years of buried want.

You lean your head back, stare at the ceiling like it can ground you now.

“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” you say, voice low and leveled. “Doesn’t matter what I’m doing. I’ll be drivin’ or sittin’ on the porch playing some stupid song on the guitar, or cookin’ dinner and then—boom. There you are. In my mind. In my fuckin’ chest. Hauntin’ me.”

You hear her exhale, shaky and meek.

“I think about your sweet little mouth” you continue, slower now, like you’re giving each word space to land. “The first time that you kissed me. How fuckin’ soft you were. How you looked up at me after like you couldn’t believe what we were doing, like it terrified you… but you still wanted more.”

A soft, broken little whimper comes through the speaker. You bite a grin back Your voice sinks down. Rougher now. “Where’s he at baby? He there right now?”

A pause.

“…Yeah,” she says. “He’s in the living room. Video games. Got his headset on.”

You breathe out slow. “That right?” your nostrils flare, scoff slipping out “Playin games with his buddies instead of takin’ care of his girl?”

“Mhm.”

Now that she said it, you can hear it if you listen real close—that faint, metal sound of gunfire, music coming through her walls. It makes your jaw tighten. Puts sickness into your gut.

“Does he make you feel like this?”

She doesn’t answer. Not with words anyway.

You push. “He know how to make you come baby? Ever whisper in your ear just right? Know how to make you come with just his voice?”

“No,” she sighs.

You lean your head back, close your eyes.

“You still have it?” you ask. “The toy we bought. The one with the app?”

You hear her suck in a breath.

“Yes.”

“It charged?”

“…Yes.”

“Good,” you coo. “You wanna turn it on f’me?”

You hear her fumbling quietly under the sheets. Then a faint beep. You put the phone on speaker, and open up the app, expecting it to say disconnected, deleted. No device found.

But it doesn’t.

It syncs.

She never unpaired it.

The screen lights up.

“You been holding onto that all this time?” you ask, voice a little jagged.

“Didn’t have the heart to get rid of it.”

You smile. Dark. Possessive.

“You gonna let me make you feel good?” “Joel” “What are you wearin’ right now?” She hesitates, but you have her now. You know how she works. “Just an old shirt, lacy undies, they’re black.” You hold back a groan, reaching for your jeans to palm yourself, to soothe the ache already growing there. “I want you to put it over top of those lacy panties, okay sweet girl?” You sigh, “can you do that for me?”

She shifts. A quiet gasp. Shaky inhale. You wait until the signal confirms—ready.

“You’re gonna listen to me now, darlin’. Real close.” you say, tone going firm. “You’re gonna keep your voice down. Don’t need him hearin’ you.”

You tap the screen—tiny pulses, just enough to tease her.

“Feel that?”

“mhm,” she hums.

“Good. That’s mine.”

A sharper sound slips from her throat.

You push it a little higher. “You still so fuckin’ sensitive, baby? You always used to get like this when you were scared of gettin’ caught. All worked up, all squirmy, tryin’ not to moan.”

“I am,” she says, almost like she’s crying. “God—yes I am.”

“Remember how I used to touch you when we were still sneakin’ around? In the truck, your daddy’s bathroom on the 4th? Fuckin’ on that camping trip?” You swipe up on the app—stronger now. “You’d come so fast for me. Couldn’t help it huh? My needy girl.”

She whimpers.. You bump up the intensity all the way. Watching the light pulse faster.

“That’s it. Take it. Let me ruin you a little baby. Just like I used to,” you turn it off, then growl “take off your panties.”

You can hear her breath falter, then she shifts again. You think about the way her hips probably rolled under the covers. Her hand pressed tight to her mouth

“Good girl.” You turn the toy back on, “okay baby, now I want you to take your other hand and put a finger inside your right little  pussy f’me okay? Nice ‘n slow.”

You turn the toy back on, low.

She lets out the sweetest sound, it makes your cock jump.

You’re throbbing now, heavy and pulsing. Your free hand drifts lower again, rubbing against the thick line in your jeans. It would be so simple. Just a few strokes. Just a little more pressure. The sounds she’s making are almost enough to send you over the edge.

But you don’t.

You move your palm to let it rest flat over your stomach, breathing hard, cock aching. But you keep your hand still.

Cause’ this isn’t just about getting off.

Its about her. About giving her pleasure. About letting her know she’s still yours, even if you can’t take her back. It’s about apologizing without saying it, showing in a way she can still understand.

“You gettin’ close?” you ask, voice shaking, hoarse now.

She moans for you. “Yes. Yes. Please—”

You shush her, “Don’t forget he’s right there,” you say, voice lowering. “Your little boyfriend on the other side of that wall. You think he’d like hearin’ how soaked you are for someone else, for me?” She’s falling apart for you—wrecked, raw, beautiful—and your restraint snaps, you realize you’ve let your hand drift; dragging your hand slow over denim.

You whisper her name. Groan when you hear her cry out, trying not to be loud.

Its all instinct. Just muscle memory. She moaned and your body responded, desperate and sure.

But then—

“Joel,” she gasps, the panic in her voice coming out syrupy. She’s right there, you know it. “Don’t stop. Don’t you fuckin’ dare move that toy from your clit.” It comes out desperate, “just keep fucking yourself with your fingers, just like I used to.” 

You can hear it. The way her breathing stutters. The small, slick sounds you remember like your own heartbeat. You turn the intensity of the toy down to low, hear her sigh half relief, half frustration.

“If I were there with you I’d fuck you nice ‘n slow,” you say. “Pin you down and make you come until you were cryin’. Breakin’ for me like you always did. You remember that, baby girl? How I’d keep goin’ till you’d beg for mercy?”

“Yes, yes, please—Joel, fuck.” She sings your name, like a hymn, reverent—like it still means something. Like she still needs you. Rolling off of her tongue like if she stops you’ll disappear.

Your hand stills. Frozen right over the bulge in your jeans. Your chests twisted.

“You’re gonna come f’me now.” you drawl into the phone, “Nice and quiet, baby. Let me hear how pretty you sound.”

You hit the high setting. The one she always used to fight. The one that made her toes curl and her voice shake.

You hear her break

She comes hard—biting it back, but you hear it. Feel it, almost. Those wrecked little sounds. The ones she makes just for you. The soft sobs, she tries to bury. Hear her try to smother it in her pillow. The app blinks frantic on your screen. Her body gives out on the other end of the line. Even if you can’t see it, you know it’s magnificent, face hot, tears welling, chest heaving. You picture her fucked out beneath you, glowing like an angel.

You hum her name. Groan when you hear her cry out, trying her best not to be loud. It’s not enough. Her voice through a phone, the memory of her body, the ghost of her skin. And you sit there.

Rock hard. Leaking.

Still.

You don’t finish.

Don’t let yourself, can’t.

You let the ache stay where it is. Let it pulse behind your zipper, inside your ribcage, let it take root there…

Because that’s the price, isn’t it?

Wantin’ her, but never quite havin’ her. Not fully. Not no more.

You listen to her breathing settle. Let the silence sit thick between you both.

And when she finally speaks, her voice wrecked and breathless.

“He’s never made me feel like this,” you can hear her sniffle, clear her throat, “it’s always going to be you.”

All you could do was whisper back,

“I know baby girl, I know”

///

You close the app with slick, trembling fingers. Pull the blanket up to your chin, like it might smother the heat still blooming under your skin.

He’s still there, on the phone, breathing. 

You don’t speak.

Neither does he.

Then, gentle as breath. “Goodnight, Joel.”

Silence.

He doesn’t say it back.

The call ends.

You stare at the screen for a second longer, then turn it face-down on the bedside table. A moment later, your bedroom door creaks open.

“Hey,” he says, voice easy. “Game ended early. You still up?”

You flinch. Throat dried out, hoping your face won’t give anything away. “Yeah. Just… scrolling.”

He strips off his hoodie, climbs into bed, kisses your cheek. Calls you beautiful, calls you his, calls you babyj.

You let him wrap an arm around your waist and let him think he’s the only one who touched you tonight.

///

You sit on the bed, phone screen dimming in your hand. The the line gone stale against your ear, static buzzing, a somber reminder.

You stay still for a while, letting it wash over you, not away. You let yourself drown in it.

Then you stand. Walking down the hall. Flicking on the bathroom light.

The mirror doesn’t flinch. But you do.

You stare at yourself like you’re trying to remember who you used to be. Who she used to see.

You grip the sink, white-knuckled. Eyes tired. Zipper still tight. Chest still rising too fast.

You close your eyes.

Not sayin’ a word, thinking about burying this all over again. 

And you do, because you don’t deserve it.

Because you promised you’d become a ghost.

[msbluebell]

How We Fall For People Like James Somerton

We're all joking, but this James Somerton thing has me really fucked up.

I wasn't a huge fan of James. I saw a few of his videos and liked them. In the ones I saw he was calm and explained things straightforwardly and even the one or two times he said things against white women...well, that's language I've been seeing on Tumblr since I joined back in my tweenage years. I thought it was just a dismissive joke pointing out a frank reality.

I didn't watch him too much. Just a few videos. I kept meaning to watch more, but I didn't because sometimes I wanted something easier. But I regarded him sell because of how informed he seemed.

And that's the thing, isn't it? He SEEMED informed. He spoke confidently and sometimes quoted queer sounding articles and I trusted him blindly. And why? Because he was giving me information that SEEMED well researched.

Illumanaughtii too. I WAS a consistent fan of hers before other youtubers came out. Because she presented information really well and I like hand drawn characters and because she read academic sounding quotes. I trusted her and her information was stollen. And I feel like a fool for ever having trusted her now, but at least her stollen facts were apparently accurate. Maybe.

James though, he straight up lied. Todd in the Shadows went through a lot of effort to expose those lies. He did so much research that I didn't bother to do. And he admitted he only did it because he happened to know people more informed than him that noticed the lies and went down a rabbit hole.

And maybe if I was more involved I would have noticed. But that's beside the point. what's getting me is I didn't bother to check myself, I just blindly trusted.

And the worst part is I can see why it happened.

I work.

I work, and then I get home, and when I get home I stress. I stress about work I have to do tomorrow, or classes, or finding a new job that actually pays a livable wage. And to escape that stress I go online to AO3, or tumblr, but especially Youtube.

Because I like youtube, I like to have noise in the background while I work. I like to listen to things while I read. And some of the time it's ASMR videos, or watching someone cook something. But mostly? It's history things or video essays.

And when I'm working, or reading, I'll hear a fact, and I'll look up, and I'll think "Huh, that's interesting to know, I didn't know that." And I won't think anything about it.

Because I'm busy, or I'm tired. I'm tired from work, and I don't want to do more work. Or sometimes it's mental health. This is my coping mechanism. I'm trying to learn things, do something to distract myself. I'm not looking to disprove things.

In other words I'm lazy. Or, if I'm being kind to myself, I'm tired.

Maybe if the topic was something I was an expert in I would have noticed. I'm a former ballerina, I'm a failed history major dropout. Maybe if he'd said something like "Holodomor never happened" or "Boudica is a Finnish folk hero" I'd have noticed. Maybe.

But he didn't, and I didn't notice. I assumed he did the work, and why?

Because surely a gay man wouldn't spend hours on youtube talking about Queer history if he wasn't passionate. Because he, a queer man, would surely know about queer history. Surely he wouldn't want to spread lies and hate. And he's quoting from books and articles so why wouldn't I trust him?

My trust was blind and unfounded.

And now I'm reeling from that. I'm reeling because I'm starting to feel like I can't trust a lot of people. How can I listen to any Youtuber casually now?

I can't, I never should have assumed I could.

Now every informative video feels like I need to do tens of hours of research just to be sure what I'm hearing is true. I feel like I can't trust anything unless I do.

James Somerton took my trust.

And it's not only that either. That's not what scares me the most. It's that there are THOUSANDS of people like me. Millions like me. Who are learning something from a video or a tweet or a tumblr post from someone they assume is an expert and are blindly trusting because they assume they can trust it. They don't intend to do their own research because they're tired, or don't know how. And that scars me. I was a history major, I studied tyrants and misinformation and the rise of propaganda, and I, with all my tools to notice, was still blind.

You cannot blindly trust a video, you cannot blindly trust a tweet, you especially cannot blindly trust a tumblr post.

YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPOGANDA

[loveharlow]

COMPANY POLICY

PAIRING‧₊˚ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2.7k] Caught red handed stealing from Cameron Development, Rafe Cameron's assistant finds herself in a sticky situation...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, power play, blackmail, slight dom/sub dynamics, unprotected rough sex, allusions to pregnancy, cheating (?)

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU HELD YOUR ARMS CLOSE TO YOU AS YOU WALKED THE PATH UP TO THE COMPANY BUILDING — Cameron Development. It was midnight on the dot and the night air was chilly. Normally, you’d be in bed by this time, tired and exhausted after running errands for Rafe Cameron all day long with little to sometimes no break. Being his assistant wasn’t exactly anyone’s dream job, but it kept your lights on.

For some reason, the man had called you into the office, saying there was an issue that was urgent and had to be handled immediately. He had an edge to his voice, one that should've been your first warning to not walk into that building.

As you skipped up the steps to the building, still hugging yourself, you pushed the door open and followed the only light that was on down the hall. His office door was cracked and you could hear him mumbling to himself. Reaching the semi-open door, you pushed it open, the wood creaking as you did so.

“Mr. Cameron?” You called quietly, spotting his tall frame hovering over his desk — palms planted firmly on the wood and hair ruffled as his eyes ran wild over the small pile of papers on the desk. Your voice broke him out of his muttering daze as his eyes slowly rose to meet yours. His movements were slow and calm, his wild eyes meeting yours.

His movements were slow and calm, until they weren’t. Within seconds, he’d crumpled up the papers in his hands and rounded his deck to tower in front of you and grab your upper arm, bringing you impossibly closer. You could see him a lot more clearly now — he was visibly strung out and angry. 

You gasped at the rough contact, immediately trying to tug your arm away which only prompted the irate man to tug you closer. 

“What’re you-”

“How much?” He huffed out, infuriated. His jaw was clenched tightly.

You were sure you looked lost and confused, more scared than anything. Rafe had a knack for treating his employees like shit and you were no exception to his rage now, it seemed. But you’d never been at the receiving end of his abuse until this moment. It was frightening, to put it mildly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“How much fucking money did you steal from me?” He gritted through his teeth. You stuttered to find the right words and he took that as a sign to continue berating you. He released his grip on you to uncrumple to documents he was holding, using one hand to push you against the wall behind you as the other practically shoved the printed matter in your face. “Five-hundred and twenty-six thousand...” He started, voice rising with each word. “Five-hundred and twenty-six THOUSAND dollars. That’s how much money has been withdrawn from my company and deposited into shell companies — companies that do not fucking exist!”

You looked away from him this time. You honestly didn’t think he’d find out. Or at least find out that it was you. Five-hundred thousand was pocket change compared to what he was bringing in yearly and Rafe was careless, so you didn't think he'd notice and if he did, you assumed you'd be able to lie on the spot. Clearly, you'd misjudged both him and yourself.

He’d put you in charge of the books when it became too much paperwork for him one day and you just happened to realize that your paycheck could’ve been much higher than what it was but you knew he’d never give you a raise. You’d worked with him for almost 2 years and had never even seen the chance of a promotion. Who was Rafe Cameron to acknowledge his employees or their efforts?

It wasn't like you'd taken it all at once. It was over the last couple months that you'd misplaced the funds into shell companies and collected it at later dates for your own personal gain.

“Suddenly she’s quiet.” He taunted, throwing the papers to the floor. “Look at me,” He demanded, but you refused. He took that as a sign to grab, more like yank, your chin in his direction. “Where’s my money?”

“It’s gone, most of its gone…” You muttered with tearful eyes, speech slurred due to how he had your cheeks pressed together. You weren't lying. You'd spoiled yourself with the money. Shopping, grocery runs, furniture...

“I trusted you. You think I’d let any of those lousy, dumbasses touch my assets? No. But clearly…clearly I made a lapse in judgment with you.” He reprimanded. “You’re a damn thief.” He spat as he let go of your face, so harshly it prompted some of your hair to obstruct your field of vision.

Your heart was racing like crazy. Your hands had been clawing at the wall he had you pinned to, eyes following his pacing frame. “I can pay it back. I’ll pay it all back-”

“Oh, I know you will.”  He scoffed darkly. “But clearly, your word can’t be taken for it so, I’m going to need… collateral.” Rafe sounded much less angry now. But his tone was still clouded with an air of darkness that made the hairs of the back of your neck stand up. Suddenly, he was in front of you again, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear — a much softer touch compared to the previous ones.

“Take your shirt off.”

You were dumbstruck, mouth falling open at his demand.

Surely, he couldn’t be serious.

“Mr. Cameron-” You tried.

“Sir.” He corrected.

“...Sir,” You repeated, taking the hint. “I have a husband. Not to mention, you’re my boss. I’m sure there’s another way-”

“There might be...” He cut you off, the knuckle of his index finger trailing down the length of your neck as he licked his lips before speaking again. “Unfortunately for you, I want to do it my way.” He rasped. “So, take your shirt off.”

This was wrong. On so many levels was this wrong. He was your boss — your sick, deranged boss. You may be a thief but this was ludicrous. Was the terror in your eyes not enough assurance for him?

You gulped as you looked into his eyes, letting a few beats pass before moving your shaking hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head and hesitating to let it drop to the hardwood floors of his office. 

Rafe eyed the valley of your breasts that was revealed by your bra, a small smirk forming on his features at the sight. When one of his hands came up to cup one of them through the material, you couldn’t help but cringe slightly at the touch — it was foreign and it felt so… dirty. You wanted to just say fuck it and dash out of his office — shirtless and all. But you knew that would only cause more trouble — he’d ruin your credibility and career, destroy your marriage, and God knows what else.

So when the man used the hand that had been trailing your neck to untie your sweatpants, you stood as still as a statue and let him. The loose apparel falling easily to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you half naked in front of your superior.

“I never took you for the criminal type, y’know…” He whispered into your ear. “I always thought you were so obedient. The things I thought about doing to you whenever you nod when I give you an order, watching you rush around the office in your skirts just to get whatever I need done finished…I never thought watching you do whatever I say would be so fun.” He cooed and you couldn’t help but feel trapped at this moment.

Just how long had Rafe been pining over you? You suddenly wondered if this was really collateral or just a way of getting something he’d always wanted.

Was it both?

The thought ran around in your mind as he roamed the length of your body — calloused hands outlining the curve of your ass, palm trailing over your clothed core. You didn’t even fully register when his thick fingers pushed the fabric of your panties to the side, one digit gathering the wetness that had gathered before being quickly pushed inside. You whimpered lowly at the intrusion, instinctively closing your legs but Rafe wouldn’t allow it, using his knee to hold your legs apart.

His lone finger poked and prodded at your g-spot, forcing light moans out of you that you tried your best to keep low. You hated the way your body responded to his touch — the faint squelching sound you could hear as he pumped his finger in and out of you. A lone tear rolled down your cheek, small whimpers escaping your lips before he harshly pulled his finger out of you and took a few steps back, allowing you to close your legs.

But the racing and thumping of your heart within your rib-cage didn’t stop there, tearful eyes watching as Rafe’s hands moved to his belt. The metal clanking against itself as he undid the object and abandoned it to the floor. 

In one swift motion, his entire demeanor changed as he grabbed the hair on your head that he could reach, practically ripping you off of the wall that you were clinging to. You yelped as the man did so, using your tresses as a makeshift leash, pulling your body towards his desk as you struggled not to trip over your pants that were still wound around your ankles. Using his deadly grip, he shoved your face into the wooden surface, swiping papers and office supplies out of his way.

You hissed the contact, a small ache blooming on your cheek as your own hands were planted on the wood as well in awkward position due to how he had you pinned down.

The hand in your hair never left your body as it trailed down to pin you against the slab by the back of your neck instead. Your body jerked as he used his free hand to force your panties down your legs, leaving the material wound around the middle of your thighs.

You don’t even know when he found the time to pull down his own pants during his manhandling, only starting to internally panic, realizing the weight of what was happening when you felt the warmth of his tip rub against your sex. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, causing yourself more pain the more you moved.

You pleaded with him through labored sobs as your fingers clawed at his work space, leaving faint white marks in your wake. You didn’t even know what you were saying — a string of useless pleas falling on deaf ears.

Your fighting only came to an abrupt stop when you felt his dick push past your entrance, biting down on your lip as a small pinching feeling radiated from in between your legs at the unwelcome intrusion. You felt every ridge and vein as he took his time settling within you. The man behind you let out a gruff groan while the hand he’d used to guide himself inside of you moved to capture your waist, pulling you further onto him.

When he pulled his hips back only to slam back into you, you couldn’t contain the watery scream you let out. It felt like he’d punched you in the throat, fucking into you as if you weren’t a living thing. You could feel each and every time the tip of his cock would hit your cervix, the desk beneath you bruising your abdomen with each forward thrust that slammed you against the wooden fixture.

"Please! I can't-"

"Shut up." He immediately cut off your protests, voice curt and nasty. "I don't wanna hear you speak."

Nothing about his movements were pleasurable. His grip on your waist had grown tighter, so tight that his short nails were digging into your skin, feeling like miniature knives against your side. The hand on your neck followed, squeezing the nape of it until you were gasping for air between each cry and shriek.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours, the feeling of his pelvis meeting the curvature of your ass with each thrust made your chest feel tight. You hated the way you could feel yourself clenching around him, a familiar sensation building in your lower half. 

Before you could even attempt to stop yourself, your hands were curling into tight fists as you came around him with a pitiful cry. But Rafe wasn’t done just yet, and you laid under him as he continued pounding into you at a borderline animalistic pace. The desk screeching against the floorboards after a particularly, brutal jolt. You were quickly becoming sensitive, the friction causing your clit to ache as a tingling sensation spreading throughout your body.

It was only a few moments before he rammed into you for the final time, his hips stilling as they pressed against your backside, the feeling of him spilling into you almost making you sick. He didn’t bother being quiet as he held you flush against him, making sure to empty himself completely with a few soft pumps into you afterwards, pulling out with not an ounce of care, eliciting a wince from you as he did so.

He roughly released both holds he’d had on you, not saying a word.

You could hear the rustling of fabric and his heavy breaths behind you as you gathered yourself mentally. You didn’t move, not an inch until you heard his voice again.

“Get up.” You sniffed. Not wanting to irritate the man any further, you used your arms to push yourself up to stand straight on shaky legs. You didn’t turn around as you carefully bent over and pulled your pants up, trying you hardest to ignore what you felt running down the inside of your thighs or the way the fabric of your underwear felt against your swollen clit.

All hopes of not having to look at the man who’d violated you were shattered as he rounded his desk to sit in front of you, planting himself in the chair as he opened the laptop that he was lucky hadn’t been thrown from the desk in the harsh turn of events.

You stood in front of him with your head down. You didn’t bother to wipe the tears from your face, fix your hair, or check for bruises that you were sure you had and would have to find some way to cover up. You just watched liked a punished child as he opened the device in front of him, typing and hyper focused on the screen. You wondered how he could be so unphased.

He was like that for a few passing moments until he’d seemingly gotten what he needed, pulling the USB drive from the side of the machine that you'd just noticed, leaning back in his chair as he fiddled with the small stick. His face was flushed red and his hair was all over the place.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, out of breath but still managing to sound smug. You had an idea. But you hoped you were wrong. So, begrudgingly, you shook your head side to side. “It's our movie. I know it’s not the best angle because, well...” He motioned towards a corner of his office, prompting you to shift your sights in his line of sight, spotting a camera mounted in the corner, so small it was just barely visible but you knew from the placement it probably had a view of the entire space. Your heart dropped, slowly turning back to your boss to find him eyeing you with such a predatory gaze that it made you shudder.

“Don’t look so scared. No one else will see it, so long as you get my shit back.” He spat. “But I gotta admit,” He started, getting up from behind his desk and coming to stand next to you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Fucking you was much better than I ever imagined.”

His words had you choking back on your own saliva, swallowing harshly and refusing to look at him as you stared straight ahead with a disgusted snarl on your face. One of his hands swiped lightly across your torso as he left your personal space, opting to sit half-way perched on his desk. Fiddling and examining the memory stick like a prized possession before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes and an unsettling grin on his features before speaking.

“You can see yourself out.”

That was all you needed to hear before your feet were rushing you away from him, barely stopping to snatch your shirt up off of the floor before making a bee-line out of his office. You struggled to put your shirt on as you practically sprinted through the doors of the building so fast, you wouldn't be surprised if you had it on backwards, hot skin immediately bitten by the night air.

Your breathing never calmed as you rushed to your car, struggling to unlock the door, throwing yourself into the vehicle when you finally managed to. You sat there for a few seconds, staring ahead at the street and breathing like a mad woman before you lost all control — punching and slamming on your steering wheel, a long string of curses leaving your lips before you were bursting into tears, sleeve-covered hands coming up to cup your face as you cried into them. 

You hated yourself and you hated Rafe. You had nowhere to go from here. Rafe's words made it clear that you wouldn't be quitting any time soon and what the hell were you going to do about your husband? Rafe had a full length tape of you, bent over his desk as he did what he pleased and no matter what you knew happened in that office, Rafe had Kildare in the palm of his hand.

It didn't take a genius to know that Rafe Cameron would bend that video to his very will. This whole thing made you look bad, a thief and a cheater.

Your hysterics didn’t last long when you realized that even though you were in your car, that man was still just feet away. You’d still have to see him the very next day and every day after that, but right now you just wanted to go home and you didn’t even know if you really wanted to do that — to climb into bed with your husband who had no idea what had just happened, knowing not only that your future was tainted but technically, so was his. 

You didn’t waste any time in starting your car, nearly whipping into the curb at the speed at which you pulled off. Watching streetlights and stores pass by.

It wasn’t until you passed the pharmacy, bright neon red sign lit up in the dark, that you felt your stomach drop.

You’d been off birth control for months now, wanting to try for a baby with your husband.

And in the middle of the night, you found yourself praying that a loss of dignity and aching legs were the only things Rafe Cameron just sent you home with.

General taglist; @livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

[mya-jaa5]

My Affection

You were walking into your home per usual, it was a bit late since you hung out with your friends after school, while walking in your mother should’ve had dinner almost ready, your father sitting on the couch watching tv in the living room. A normal day…

Your ex boyfriend Scaramouche, he was the perfect boyfriend at first, always giving you your needs, spending time with you, calling you, you know the stuff you’d want in a relationship, you knew he was loyal…. But he was too possessive, he’s always adjusting his schedule to meet yours, it’s not a problem but sometimes you wonder and ask, he’d always get offended asking why can’t he be around you, he is your boyfriend after all… Then he started getting irritated whenever you wanted to hang out with your friends during lunch or after school. He started to get mad when you interacted with other people, it got to the point he’d get mad at you for talking to your family! Snatching your phone whenever your on a call with someone just to see who your talking too, he was getting disrespectful now…. Always telling you that you only need him, and you shouldn’t spend your time on other people but him, it’s like he expected you to actually keep up with this… He was pushing the relationship fast, too fast to your liking. So you ended it with him, it overwhelmed you.

Scaramouche didn’t take this lightly obviously, first he tried winning you over just with him, he goes up to you talking to you as if you are still together?? He even tried giving you a forehead kiss, but you kept denying him, you know better. gotta stand on business 🙎🏽‍♀️

This makes him mad, why are you being so stubborn? it’s not like he cheated on you, why are you acting like this? You don’t even want his kisses? You even started ignoring him.. how dare you, who do you think you are?

Raging thoughts cloud Scaramouche each time he makes an effort to get you back, only to get nothing. 

He needed to show you he wants you back, he starts following you to convince you to get back together with him, he did it multiple times at school, and he started doing it outside of school! Even when your out with your parents when your alone for a moment he just suddenly comes up to you… it’s like he’s everywhere….

A few days ago you were talking to your friends, Scara walked over and pulled you from your friends conversation, took you to a far away tree behind the school and he started threatening you, telling you if you didn’t get back together with him he’d kill your family, and kidnap you, that he’s tired of playing these “games” with you. All while getting in your face to prove his point.

This was crazy, you pushed him off of you and told him off, telling him you’ll never get back with him and to fuck off.

You walked off angry.

But truthfully, he was furious, outraged even. 

This scared you but you never took him serious , what causes someone to say this…?

You close your front door, went you take off your shoes. When you walk in you instead hear silence, you set you bag down near the hallway and head to the kitchen, you don’t see your mom? Maybe she’s at the store..? Weird… Nothing made, nothing was touched, you walk toward the living room seeing a red splash on the side wall, confused you get to the living room you see your parent dead, slaughtered, massacred, murdered.

You stare wide eye silent for about 30 seconds, then screaming and dropping to the floor crying, you take out your phone to call 911, while trying to check if your parents are okay, getting blood all over your hands and shirt… But you start to feel faint, seeing a purple smoke appear in the room, soon your knocked unconscious….

____

You start to wake up…. “Where am i…?” you think to yourself, you hear water droplets, and slight moving, your in water? warm water… it’s quiet relaxing, slowly you open your eyes… The bathroom is mesmerizing, it’s a blue and white marble wall paper and it has dim lights, much to your liking… Which is weird…

“oh… your finally up..?”

you get startled, scara was bathing with you?

“You smell so nice… i missed you y/n…”

He kissed your neck tenderly while his hands crept up to your boobs massaging both of them, he chuckled feeling your arch a bit.

“Calm down im just washing you…”

“Shut up… don’t touch me!” 

You try to move away but your still weak? You can barely lift up your arm, you can only really stay on scara…

He stops kissing your neck and instead reaches one of his hands for a scrub, taking some coconut scented body wash and gently washing your skin. You frown at this, why is he taking care of you, if only he knew how much he irritated you… Him still slightly caressing you’re other boob…

“This is our first time…. Taking a bath together, i’ve always looked forward to doing this with you.”

Scaramouche confessed, which angered you.

you decide to stay silent, he doesn’t deserve your words or attention.

“That day i threatened you, you left your phone on the bench. You know i think it’s cute you still have my birthday as your password..”

Your surprised…. That means he.. That’s why he threatened you that day…?

Scara chuckles feeling you tense. 

“What i don’t think is cute is that you were texting another guy, really y/n? Did you really think you were gonna to move on? He’ll never be able to handle you.. Why would you ever leave me…”

He continued to wash you though a little rougher and fast… He was clearly getting angry… Your definitely not going to worsted the situation by barking back… Choosing to stay silent you wait for what he’ll say next…

“You weren’t understanding, i’ve did everything for you, i’ve only ever looked out for you, and this is how i get treated? You were supposed to come back with me the first time i asked you, but you so stubborn and let it escalate to this..”

He lets go of the scrub and it floats on top of the water, he grips your waist and turns you around, when you look at him he looks mad, your nervous. 

He brings his hand to your cheek caressing it

“Your staying here for now on, you can’t go out anymore, you have to prove your obedience if you want to live a normal life, to finish school, you know.”

what? you can’t sit here and not say anything.

“G-Get away! You killed my parents! And you think i would-“

“Get over it. Your parents are dead they lived a pathetic life” Scara coldly said.

You sharply inhale, how dare he? He doesn’t understand how much you loved them. Soon you feel your eyes tear up.

Scara rolls his eyes “You’ll get over it”

He looks at you and slightly smirks.

“You know i’ve never seen you cry before… Your eyelashes are pretty long, you cry a lot?”

Its like he’s taunting you. 

“Hey hey it’s a joke don’t cry more… Listen if your worried it not gonna hurt you..”

he got closer to you, sorta sitting in your lap, looking down on you.

“Its been a while since we did anything intimate…”

Really? He’s bringing up being intimate? He clearly doesn’t take you serious. 

“no i’m mourning, don’t rush me”

you heard him make a “tch” sound, instead he placed his head on your shoulder. and wrapped his arms around your waist 

“fine i wont…”

Its silent… 

“i missed you… i missed this”

You wanna make a big sigh, maybe it’ll make him drown you.

Trying to think back how normal your life was before, wondering if you took it for granted, and got this for being selfish or wanting more… Missing your dear parents… Wondering if all those times you spent being mean to them was worth it. You stare at the water lost in thought just wondering what will happen now your in this situation. knowing you can’t escape it. Or Scara…

Moments pass and your pulled out your thoughts as he suddenly gets up, he gets out the tub and puts a towel around his waist.

Its not like he’s not hot, but he’s a bad person, and this is a pretty fucked up situation, anyways you didn’t look at him as he got out, wanting to give him privacy despite him going through your phone while you two weren’t together…

“Be ready for dinner at 12:30, your outfit is picked out already, we’re eating your favorite” 

he saids while washing his face in the sink.

You nod and he takes your answer and leaves the bathroom… You don’t feel as weak anymore, so you get out and dry yourself, what time is it? And why is dinner so late? Whatever, you wonder what type of clothes he got you…

To your surprise it’s fresh new clothes he bought you. Its just a simple matching shirt and shorts, he also got you basic white garments, with a tiny pink ribbon bot in the middle of both the clothing, it’s cute. just to your liking… Which is weird, he knows a lot about you more than yourself… Anyways you brush your teeth wash your face, your ready… you got this for sure, what could go bad ?

___

ermmm end 😝 ? or maybe part 2 👻

i’m good at writing and coming up w good story’s but when it’s like i actually gotta wrote a part2 or sum it just be like what am i gon come up w next, this story is kidna random but lmk if y’all like it 💃🏽 no specific age i’m just going by mine. proofread but not at the same time

also idk what title i should make this 😭?

[kings-highway]

AHHH thank you so much for your response!! <3 pressing the submit button was so so nerve wracking to me, but you made this next ask feel so much easier and less anxiety-inducing :3 i fear you'll receive a lot more asks relating to sawamura daichi in the future, he's absolutely my favourite character and i love love love the way you portray him!! (and same honestly, i could ramble on about him for days.) finding you on ao3 made me feel like i struck diamond so thanks so much for giving me that experience too! <3

on that note, are there any daichi moments from the anime/manga that stand out to you?? i cant stop thinking about the fact that despite putting in every ounce of effort he had into building karasuno (finding them a manager, encouraging suga and asahi to train hard in their first year, taking up the role of coach when they didn't have one, etc etc), he was ready to step aside after the inter-highs because he thought he might hold the new crows back from their true potential. its honestly so heart wrenching to see him doubt himself like that, and it takes so much love and strength to be able to step aside despite all the work he put in (much like suga, who stepped aside for kageyama). i feel it really encapsulates daichi as a character too

anyways, thanks again so much for soothing my nerves when it comes to these asks! id gladly give you any opportunity you want to yap about daichi hehe :D

Okay it took me a long time to decide because there are LOTS of little moments of him I adore. But ultimately what kept coming back to me is this fucking clocked out moment he has, and let me tell you why:

First of all, goof ass expression. dude is so zoned out nothing is getting into his brain.

but the reason I love this so much is mostly due to a really specific headcanon I have: Upon first viewing, I thought: "oh, its after the STZ match and in he's just really exhausted"

but then I kept thinking about the context. specifically, that within the canon of the timeline, Daichi gets his tooth knocked out of his head, plays a *second* game, and then plays Stz the next day. IE; dude hasnt gone to a dentist.

now, i question you: have you ever had a tooth knocked out of your head? Or... Even just chipped a tooth? That shit HURTS. it is a constant, constant ache. Dude would have been walking into the STZ match with a face that was possibly swelling - we see the goddamn bruise (do you know how hard you have to hit to leave damage like that? To knock a tooth out?) - and undoubtedly he played the whole match in a lot of pain. and probably on the bare minimum of pain killers, bc Idk about you but if youve ever tried to take strong ass pain medication and then *run around* it doesnt really work. theres a reason pain medications of a certain strength and above are prescription.

So I propose to you: this wonderfully silly moment of Daichi is not, in fact, him being merely tired after the match. this is a Daichi who stepped off the court and immediately had Takeda force feed him the legal limit of medication and is currently so high on OTC meds you could stab him and he wouldnt notice. dude is on that extra strength night time level shit. If he stood up he would fall over. He probably will wake up in the morning and have no idea what happened after those meds kicked in. This dinner will be a black spot in his memory.

[lizlovell]

You're losing me

part 1

part 2

''Stop staring at her,it's creepy''

Pansy rolled her eyes at the blonde.

''It's not creepy,she is my girlfriend'', Draco replied, suprisingly for the first time since class started, ignoring everything else his friends were saying.

Pansy snorted,''Well apparently not''.

''Yeah man,why don't you just go talk to her instead of sending death-glares to everyone sitting next to her''

The words were simply ignored. Draco couldn't help it. He hated seeing her living like her life doesn't revolve around him anymore.

During the exam months before they take a break, all Draco thought about was to get away from you and all the tension built in your relationships. Being too busy under the exam pressure made him think your problems were nothing. He could see how your built up your guards up and how the dry conversations were cut short. He were annoyed that you kept on being strong for both of you although you were hurt. He didn't know how to handle,he couldn't find any word to make the situation better.So he ran away. But now that the exam pressure is gone, he found himself in the worse agnoy. He have to fix this.

...............................

''Y/N wait!''

''Y/N there are flowers for you in front of the common room..again''

''Miss Y/L/N, stop running in the hallway and bumping into everyone!The school is not a playground for Tag''

''Y/N I'm sorry i can't come to the library with you today''

It is an understatement to say the following weeks were funny and eventful for everyone at Hogwarts.They got some free shows to enjoy. It was a strange sight for them at first to see Malfoy trying to chase his former girlfriend. But then they got used to seeing you running in the hallway with Draco trying to catch up, flowers for you in the classes and in front of ur dorm, your friends getting paid to leave you alone, and everyone is just so invested to know what is going to be Draco's next move and how you are going to slip through it,again,some betting it won't last three weeks.

Despite you using all of your effort not to lose the bet and keep ur dignity, there you are again,back up against the walls and embraced in someone's warmth.

The familiar mixed scent of green apple and pine hovers and a wave of nostalgia washed over you with the familiar chest-ache.

There you are again– after nights and nights of crying your eyes out till they were dry– you find yourself pinned under the Draco fucking Malfoy against the cold stone wall of Hogswart .

''Y/N'', he voice cracked out of his throat betraying the tough act he is trying to put on. He just couldn't take it anymore. He can't stand the void that left him with dark circles under his eyes and he refused to believe you are doing well without him.

''Come back to me,love. I know you missed me too''

His eyes do not match the arrogance the words are carrying. You hate yourself for it but that longing gaze filled with sorrow and a tight grip on your waist was all it took to break down the self control you have tried so hard to build around you. He see right through you.

''Didn't you want this Draco, wasn't this what you wanted? away from me'',

''I was scared Y/N, i was so scared that i doubted us. So i ran away like a coward because i didn't know any better..i'm sorry'', he mean every apology he is saying.

''But now i'm scared to live without you, i don't want to be away from you,never again, please love, come back to me''

Your knees are weak and your vision is blurry. You taste something sour, is that a tear, are you crying again? ''Merlin,i'm so damn tired to crying'', you thought.

Soft lips pressed down on yours. You felt your stomach dropped. The taste of fire whiskey and your tears linger on your lips. A few sobs chocked out of you, feelings like you are finally woken up from a nightmare. All these touch and warmth,merlin knows how much you yearned for these. A sharp pain drew some blood from ur lips as if he is letting out all the frustration and finally finding comfort in it. The familiar feeling of belonging and love filled up the void.

''shouldn't have let you go my love''

Students of Hogwarts are going to be happy that they won't have to worry about falling victims to the certain couple's stunts and tantrums .

.....................................

I'm sorry this is rushed and bad but here's the ending >~<

[vickytaa]

Music keeps me alive. M.S. Chapter V

summery: y/n's father passed away, and she moved to Boston to finish school. She always keeps her headphones on, only she knows the reason why. What happens when she meets Matt?

Last chapter!

After walking for a few minutes, I arrived at the triplets' house. Standing in front of the door, hesitating whether to enter or not. It broke my heart to know that Matt was bad, he wasn't eating, he wasn't sleeping, he wasn't leaving the room, he wasn't living. But what happened that night hurt me too... I hesitated, maybe too much, but in the end I decided to knock on the door. A few seconds later, Nick opened the door and was a little excited to see that I had come. He smiled at me and hugged me gently. "Thanks for coming, he's... well, you know. If you need anything, don't hesitate to tell me," Nick said, his face showed that he was a little better than before, a little relieved that I had come. I nodded and returned the smile, "Yes... I don't know if it's too much to ask, but can you go somewhere? It's just for a while, I really want to talk to him alone." I said without thinking twice. "Sure, I'll go get Chris and we'll go somewhere nearby," Nick said, and when he finished, he headed towards Chris's room.

I climbed the stairs and stood in the living room. What am I going to say to him? Will he want to talk to me? I didn't know what to talk about, how to start, how to act, nothing. A few minutes later, Nick and Chris entered the living room, both greeted me and smiled. "Thank you, really," Chris said, his eyes were red and he looked tired. It was clear that they had both been doing everything they could to keep Matt from being like this, to no avail. Together they hugged me and said goodbye.

When I heard the door close, all the pressure in my body suddenly rose. My head started to ache intensely, and my body stopped working altogether. Panic and nervousness took over me. And once again, I was there, standing still in front of Matt's room door. I took a deep breath, 'it's now, Y/n' I thought. I couldn't waste any more time. I knocked on the door.

Silence.

Is he asleep? Or maybe he's ignoring me... but did he know I was coming? New thoughts kept popping up. What do I do now? I knocked again, and then I thought about it. 'Fuck'. Surely, he wants to be alone and not be bothered. Or maybe he's dying for a hug.

Silence, again.

I think that's a sign to leave... I don't know if he really wants me here. I took a step back without thinking twice, it's time to go. But in my mind, the moments we spent together were repeated over and over again, the sincerity in his eyes whenever he told me he loved me, his desperate messages, his eyes, his face, the image of him begging me on his knees not to leave, his loud cry when I decided to go... I couldn't let him alone again. I couldn't lose someone else without fighting for that person. So I took courage and slowly opened his door, to find him asleep, his eyes red and swollen from the hours he spent crying, his messy room, a photo of our first date printed on his nightstand, his stuffed animal in his arms, it was all too much. I made a great effort to keep my tears from falling, finding him this way was drowning my heart.

Slowly and quietly, I entered the room and sat on the other side of the bed. Now his back was facing me. His room seemed... dead. Lights off, food and drinks on the floor, clothes thrown everywhere, everything messy, he looked the same, they both lacked love. I didn't know what else to do, but I was sure Matt needed company. So I started to lie down, getting closer and closer to him, and hugged him around the waist with one of my arms, my exhaled air going directly to the back of his neck. After a few seconds, I felt Matt grab my arm and realized it was me who was there. He turned to face me and couldn't hold back the tears.

All this time, being apart has been a complete hell for both of us.

Despite my best efforts, I couldn't hold mine back and they finally rolled down my face. With the little strength I had at that moment, I brought my hands to his face to hold it, and joined our lips in a soft kiss full of feelings that couldn't be described in words. Matt wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me as close as possible, afraid that I would leave again. When we separated, neither of us said anything, I didn't know what to say, I just wanted to enjoy the moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, which he followed and hugged me tighter. Then, without letting go, Matt buried his face in my neck and I started to caress his hair.

"I really missed you," Matt said, breaking the silence. "Me too," I said, continuing to play with his hair. We returned to silence, and Matt relaxed a little. Suddenly, seeing the photo on his nightstand again, I remembered our first date; both of us looking into each other's eyes while my favorite song played in the background: "Sailor Song." Without thinking, I started to sing it, so softly, almost like a whisper. Bringing back memories of all the moments together, the good and the bad. I felt Matt's grip tighten a little. We both wanted all this to have been a bad dream, that in reality none of this had happened and we would continue our relationship happily. But like any relationship, there were problems, fights, happy and sad moments.

A few hours later, I felt Matt move a little. "What's wrong?" I said in a tired tone, but soft as always. "I want to be like this forever. And if I can be even closer, even better," Matt said, pulling away from my neck to meet my face and cross glances. A big smile full of love spread across his face. "I don't think you can get any closer than this," I said, laughing softly. He laughed with me, "How not?" he said, teasingly, and buried himself in my neck again, his grip on my waist tightened and pulled me impossibly closer. I just laughed and enjoyed the moment, I hadn't laughed in a long time.

Without realizing it, the door opened and Nick and Chris entered the room, both happy that their brother could finally laugh again. "I knew they were going to figure it out," Nick said. Matt moved away from me a little and turned to face his two brothers smiling. "Thank you," he said, a little embarrassed now that he realized his room was a mess, and he had acted like a zombie these days. Matt turned back to me and kissed me, this time harder than before, but with a meaning beyond love for me, if not as if to say thank you.

And in the end, maybe for my dad, music kept him alive, but for me, Matt kept me alive.

A/n: I hope u liked this series! This chapter is way shorter than the lasts... I really appreciate all the support you give to this series.

Love yall:))

[agi-ppangx]

Duh, girl.... I just thought of a story that's really sad, if one of the straykids members whose relationship with his girlfriend feels distant. Because of what? Because he's lost interest and they rarely communicate because they're really busy, but... He doesn't want to let you go, with the words "I still love you". But you're really tired of this kind of relationship, and you're also stressed because you have a lot of work, same as him.

Do you think they'll continue with the vague relationship or finally break up even though there must be a little regret and sadness for sure?

💭tell me you love me

pairing: skz member x fem!reader

warning: swearing

an: anonnie why are you doing this to me💔 no but i actually love this idea so much and i may have made this drabble a bit too angsty, choosing an abrupt ending, but i hope you'll like it nonetheless<33 i also didn't mention any names so you can imagine any of the members :]

“i’m tired of this,” you whispered, tears making their way down your face. he only sighed in response, plopping heavily on the couch. you felt defeated, stressed and so extremely tired. you were standing in the very middle of your living room, staring at your so-called boyfriend. “i told you so many times i’m a busy man. i can’t help it. and you were aware of all of this when you decided to be my girlfriend!” he shouted, but you didn’t even flinch. you didn’t care anymore. “well, i thought that maybe you would try a little bit more to make things work. but here we are instead,” you spat, your voice trembling. “i’m trying! stop with this whole narrative, you know i still love you.”

you always thought your relationship was stable, that your fights were just meant to make it stronger. you wanted to believe in forever with him - since day one you promised to make effort and find time for one another. but it seemed as if he broke the promise at the first opportunity. and when you confronted him about it he always had the same response - “you know i still love you.”

“have you ever thought about how i feel? how i feel when you ignore me for your friends, how you literally avoid me when we’re both home and how you don’t even speak to me anymore? do you ever think about anything else but yourself?!” “shut up! it’s not my fault you are insecure about everything. i’m tired and when i get home from work all i think about is getting some sleep, not making sure you are taken care of. you’re a grown-up, you don’t need me around all the time.” he got up abruptly, screaming at you. you scoffed at his words. you couldn’t believe your ears - it had to be a nightmare, right? you took a step in his direction, then another one until you were standing right in front of him, looking him straight in the eyes. your vision was blurry but it didn’t stop you from trying to burn holes in his face. “do you even love me anymore?” you asked, your voice barely above the whisper. he kept eye contact with you for a while before speaking again through gritted teeth. “you know i do.” “then say it properly. tell me you love me and say you’re sorry.” he hesitated. he fucking hesitated and that was your last straw. you left him in the living room and went to your bedroom to pack essential things. “oh my god, of course i still love you. stop acting like a fucking child!” he went after you, screaming something after these words, but your mind couldn't comprehend his lies anymore. your face was covered in tears, eyes stung and it felt harder to breathe with every passing second. when you had all your stuff packed you faced him for the final time. “if you at least apologised, i would've stayed. i would stay here with you and try to work this out, because i do love you, truly. but you’re a fucking liar playing on my emotions and i’m not going to waste even a minute more on you,” you shouted into his face, almost choking on your tears, and simply left the apartment. and the worst part is that he didn’t even try to stop you, letting you go.

taglist: @lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01

let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist💚

feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽

[lizhly-writes]

introducing new character: liang yuwen. not sure if i'll stick with this exact characterization, or even this character role (she was actually meant to be a rival character for chen lihua), but i ended up here anyway, so. here you go.

Jiang Mingxi kept perfectly still as her mother ran fingers through her hair.

"You have such nice hair," Liang Yuwen sighed. "It's unbelievable how little you do to maintain it! You never use any of the conditioners or oils I send you, but it's still like this..."

Jiang Mingxi only half-paid attention. This track of conversation was well-worn; the very first thing her mother would say upon seeing her would always be about her hair. Jiang Mingxi had mostly learned to tune it out by now, as she did with most of the things her mother said at her.

"I still can't believe you've cut it so short," Liang Yuwen said, as if Jiang Mingxi had recently shaved it all off instead of going for just-past-chin-length years ago. She picked up a comb -- some ornately carved wooden confection that Jiang Mingxi had gotten her years ago. "If I was you, I would never. I might have cried, if my hair looked like this. I suppose, if you like it -- but I really do think you should think about growing it out again."

Jiang Mingxi was actually thinking about cutting it shorter. This was not something she was going to bother telling her mother.

"You looked so pretty with long hair," Liang Yuwen said, starting to comb through it. "What does A-Ran say about it?"

Jiang Mingxi took a split second to register that her mother actually wanted a response instead of a doll to talk at and play with. "What about him."

"Your hair. What does he think about it? Does he like it?"

Jiang Mingxi shrugged. "It's not like it's attached to his head."

Liang Yuwen sighed, disappointed as she always was when it came to how Jiang Mingxi talked about Yang Haoran. "He's your man, Ming-er. Of course it matters if he likes it. Surely he has opinions on your appearance."

Sure. Fine. Yang Haoran had opinions. He cared about appearances, in the sense that he enjoyed making jokes about them. She'd always hear offhand remarks about his skincare routine and his manicure and how much effort he put into his pretty face, despite the fact they both knew he was the kind of person who wouldn't even bother brushing his hair if social standards didn't make him. At one point, she had gifted him a full skincare and cosmetics set. He had laughed so hard he almost cried.

"He's fine with it," Jiang Mingxi said.

"Is he? Just because he doesn't say anything doesn't mean there's no problems."

Technically speaking, Yang Haoran had, at one point, expressed disappointment about her lack of makeup and pretty outfits. This was less because he felt that she should be wearing pretty outfits and more about how he felt somebody in their relationship should be wearing pretty outfits.

This had led to some interesting things in their sex life that, again, Jiang Mingxi wasn't going to bother telling her mother.

"It's just... you're still not married. Of course, it's good that you're watching out for your career, but you have to keep his interest somehow, at least until the wedding."

"We fuck three times a day," Jiang Mingxi didn't say, because logistically speaking, she could probably only manage once or twice a day before work got in the way. "It's fine," Jiang Mingxi said instead.

Liang Yuwen shook her head. "Just because he doesn't say anything doesn't mean there's no problems. That's a tenet in all communication. Not all things are said out loud. It's a shame 'out loud' is the only way you ever understand anything."

This was one of the things that her mother always picked at. Jiang Mingxi had gotten tired of hearing it years ago.

"Oh, don't make that face," Liang Yuwen said, without actually getting a look at Jiang Mingxi's face. "It's just an observation, dear -- you have to admit you are awfully straightforward. People don't just say what they think, there's subtlety involved. Subtlety will get you everywhere, but... well! It's not really a skill you practice. It really does seem I'm a terrible teacher, doesn't it?"

Jiang Mingxi didn't bother saying anything. There was no point; it wasn't a question with a correct answer. Agree, and then Mother would accuse her of being a rude, unfilial child. Disagree, and then Mother would ask, if she was such a good teacher, why Jiang Mingxi hadn't learned anything.

"You're always so quiet," Liang Yuwen said. Her hands tightened on Jiang Mingxi's hair. "Are you upset? I'm only trying to look out for you. It's only that people like looking at new, pretty things. Of course my Ming-er is very beautiful, but you always choose such boring things, over and over again. Don't you think you should put a little more effort? I'm sure A-Ran would like it. It's just... people can get bored so easily."

....Was she saying...?

"You've gone so stiff," Liang Yuwen said. "This sort of posture isn't very good for you, Ming-er. I'm sure you're already getting some aches and pains. You'll need to visit the masseuse -- oh, or we could order one over. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"What are you saying about Haoran," Jiang Mingxi said lowly. Liang Yuwen didn't try that hard at subtlety when she was talking to Jiang Mingxi, not when she was aware that too subtle would fly over Jiang Mingxi's head. There were very few ways to interpret what Liang Yuwen was saying.

"Hmm? A-Ran? I only said he might like it if you try something else with your hair."

"You're saying he'll get bored of me."

Liang Yuwen sighed. "Oh, that's such an unpleasant thing to say. Do you really want to talk about this?"

"You're the one who brought it up," Jiang Mingxi said. "Why would you even say that?"

Their relationship was fine. Yang Haoran was happy, Jiang Mingxi was happy -- no matter what Liang Yuwen said, everything was fine. Why would her mother even --

"Ming-er, it's rude to raise your voice."

"He's been engaged to me for over ten years. If he was going to get bored of me, wouldn't it be before now?"

"A-Ran," Liang Yuwen said, setting down the comb with a faint click, "is a very nice boy. Very... obedient. Very unlikely to rock the boat, don't you agree? Ming-er, if he was bored of you, do you really think he'd say so?"

... Yang Haoran complained all the time. Jiang Mingxi thought that he did it sometimes just because he thought it was funny, always about annoying little things that she was sure he didn't actually care about. It was easy assume that if something actually bothered him, he'd just complain about it.

Looking back, though, she couldn't remember him ever complaining about anything he was actually upset about. Did it make more sense to assume that he never had serious problems, or that he did and just never talked about them?

If he was really unhappy...

"Ten years," Jiang Mingxi repeated.

"Yes, about that," Liang Yuwen said. "Have you heard of the sunk-cost fallacy?"

"You think my relationship is a sunk-cost fallacy?"

"An engagement is, by nature, temporary. When that engagement develops into a marriage -- well, some things become... intolerable, when they become permanent. Men do get cold feet at the altar, sometimes."

"He's not -- he wouldn't--"

"Oh, maybe he wouldn't," Liang Yuwen said. "I could just be overthinking it. I'm sure you know A-Ran best, but it's only reasonable to worry about these things."

"Is it?"

"I just want you to be careful. I only want what's best for you, Ming-er. Now, why don't we try something else with your hair?"

[myhatisblue]

Part 5, time to retire and return to the grave.

I’ve gotten into this routine, normally starting with expanding my senses, and ending with me sprawled out on the floor.  When I fucked up I woke up surronded by blood with a splitting head ache bad enough to make me sick for hours on end. Other times were nicer and I just ended up hating being alive.  The feedback hits harder now that I’m pushing  myself further, but I’ve also gotten better at stepping back when I hit that imaginary limit. 

I can’t say how long it's been, the hours and days just blend together. It’s gotten to the point where Ken’s started to remind me to eat and drink. It’s just hard to think about, Yeah, the supply drops are a good reminder on their own, but they’re spaced out seemingly randomly. I started stacking the boxes but eventually they’d all disappear one at a time leaving their contents on the ground. 

So I started tying the flags I got to the tree, figuring that might help track things. It even seemed to work well for a while,  but after I’d reached more than 50 flags, I had to stop counting how many there were. It hurt my brain to think about how long it’d been at that point.  Knowing the exact number just gave a value to how long I’d been struggling. One that embodied every failure and pathetic attempt. A point of pride that slowly became a source of unending dread.

Eventually I figured out that I was just hitting the same stopping points over and over. I needed to change something. So I ended up stepping away from it for a while helped clear my mind. I ended up using the time as an excuse to improve my living arrangements. For a bit there I was just sleeping in a bed haphazardly placed in the middle of the pavement.  It had been fine for a while, till this place deceived it wanted to be windy as hell. I still don’t get a say in any of that, I guess I don’t understand wind enough to influence it, and stopping it completely feels unnerving. Guess I’ve gotten spoiled by having it, but it was motivation to get a shelter built.  

It did cross my mind to try and recreate my real house here. Though the grudge hiding out there made my already paranoid feelings about tying outside memories to this place worse. Sure it hadn’t made any moves yet, but I also hadn’t left the area I’d claimed. So I kept it simple, I could already make flooring, and what was a wall but a floor that goes horizontal instead of vertical. 

I built my ‘home’ under the tree facing the sea. May as well get the best view out of all this. I went in knowing I had to make it far larger than I’d need, breaking the floor was a pain in the ass.  Too much room was better than not enough. 

I ran into a bit of a problem after I’d made that cement box since I hadn’t really prepared for it to have a door. Honestly I had a hell of a time trying to make something to break some of it down.  First I tired smashing it down with a huge fucking bone, but that just led to it shattering and leaving a few scratches, then I made a chair and that just really covered it in blood after it quickly broke. So I figured hey, maybe I’d be able to make a sledge hammer using some smaller floors shaped as needed. The problem with the first attempt was that I’d made it on top of the cement platform.  So no matter what I did I couldn’t seem to snap it off that foundation. I tried changing the bottom of it back into meat. That alone took far more effort than I wanted to admit and it was just a tiny section, and after I’d managed it the entire thing just melted away in a bloody mess. I was pissed beyond belief at the but still glad I didn’t try that on the wall, the size and thickness of it made it a far more daunting idea than I would have predicted.

The solution ended up being making my hammer on top of the fleshy bits since it needed contact with the meat to form. It may have lacked the same level of hardness when compared to what was built on top of the cement, but it was possible to disconnect and pick up.  

It raised a lot of questions about how the flooring and walls worked and built themselves.  Some were answered when I smashed down part of the wall to make the door. There were a few inches of cement but the center was meat.  The smashed bits turned into gore as expected, but the inner bits I could just order to move away.  I cleaned up the edges but kept the middle exposed and used that to make a retractable door.  I was kinda impressed with myself and even repeated the process for some windows! Sure it was still just a cement box but hell I was pleased with myself.  With the proven furniture set I’d mastered, it wasn’t half bad inside either. Although it still felt empty, It’d been made futureproof. 

Since the house work wasn’t eating up my time anymore, and I still didn’t feel like going back to my other goal yet. I started climbing the colossal tree and placing the flags higher and higher as a fun way to pass time. That, running, and swimming had me in a better state than I’d been in years. Training had strangely become an important factor when extending my senses. One of the bigger hills I had to conquer was how easy it became to lose track of the real me. I’d ended up in nothingness a few times, and it always fucked me up for more than I’d like to admit. That was just another thing that forced me to take some time away from my advances. Exercising had ended up being the way I could counter that, the pain of well worked muscles made me far more aware of myself. It wasn’t the end all be all answer but it was the only thing I could come up with that didn’t involve a degree of self harm. After all, if shit hurts I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to forget what part was the real me.  The pain ended up taking away from the intense focus I needed so it didn’t even end up being worthwhile. All it probably did was raise a lot of red flags for my audience… 

I did try to soften how bad I must have seemed to my observers after that. I left notes for myself in blood on the pavement.  It started as a thing I only did when I was recovering from a real hard fuck up.  I was already a crimson mess, and started to figure that I may as well do something useful with it… It worked sure but just like counting the flags, there's something deeply damaging to the brain seeing those mad ramblings just grow and grow.  Too many failures, moments of desperation, and anxiety all tracked and left to fester.  The breakdown that eventually hit came like an earthquake, hundreds of spikes of bone shot through the pavement all around me. It all shattered and returned to the gore it was birthed from. Only then did the spires split open and flowers of cursed flesh unraveled themselves from the spikes' internals.  The blooming field devoured everything I’d learnt, my grand plans, and inevitable failures.  

Looking back I still don’t know how I’d managed it, emotions have power like memories I guess. I let out too much at once, and ended up sick for a while after that… I wasn’t capable of getting up, I don’t think my thoughts were sharp enough to remember how to move.  Ken did manage to drag me back from the collapse my brain went through, just like he always seemed to… He’s gotten terrible at hiding how worried he is about me.  Or maybe I was just worse off than I’d ever been, I’m still not sure.  

More time passed… A fun change had happened. As if responding to my attempts at outward control, the land is starting to be altered in small ways. There were far more eyes among the mixture of organs and bones. I could even see out of them, if they were far enough away.  Except for one thing… When I tried looking through one close to where my missing eye was, it just wouldn’t work… There was only darkness, and a sharp pain deep within my eye socket. I’d caught Ken chuckling a few times when I tried just making and fitting a new one in there. So it was kinda safe to say his ownership of that eye was a little more complex. I did try and beg him to let me just have it back, but the asshole just said ‘you can’t take back a gift once you’ve given it.’ Fucking off almost instantly and leaving me cursing him again.  

Every step he takes towards being an alright guy he takes one back and flips me off. It’s annoyingly hard to be upset at the same time… He’s pulling his own weight here, at least when it comes to making sure I don't die or get brain damage too bad. The suffering shit he went on about seemed to only be fine if it’s on his terms, or I have a fair shake at stopping it. 

I made myself comfortable in the middle of that fucked up flower field. It all bursted outwards from me, so there was a nice circle in the middle that was empty.  There I molded flesh there into a chair, well I mean I said chair ended up looking more elaborate than I was aiming for.  It was closer to a goddamn throne. What a stupid fucking joke, Ken had popped into existance among the flowers at some point so I assumed he must have messed with things. 

I sighed and sat down planting my feet down on the flesh, I already felt myself starting to reach outwards but pulled back. I wanted to stay in that moment, really ground myself to where I was. Feeling the air in lungs, running my hands through my hair, and just taking everything in.  My hair has gotten longer than it’s ever been and it was also greasy as hell. I might have water but it couldn’t compare to how I remember soap feeling. I see myself in the reflections in the water, sure but… would anyone even recognize me anymore? Not that I kept up with many people outside of my co-workers, and… Nah, I’ve got an excuse to break things off, it’s better to let anyone who may have cared think I just fell off the face of the earth.  Isn’t far from the truth after all.  Huh, what’s made me so nostalgic today? I guess I don’t think much about myself, at least not till someone else points out a problem.

“Looks like you’re real deep in thought’ 

Ken was now sitting on the arm rest, not looking at me, just staring outward into the flowers. I can’t help but assume he altered the seat into a throne just for his own dramatics.

“You made it a throne didn’t you?”

“Do you think I could do that?”

“Probably.”

“Maybe I did then,  you did call yourself the king of roaches after all so it’s not like it’s out of nowhere.”

“Huh, when?”

“When you were talking to that creepy chick in white.”

“...I don’t remember saying that though.”

“Maybe not outloud, but you did.”

“Urgh I could have gone the rest of my life not remembering that, I also kinda wish you never confirmed the fact you could hear my thoughts.”

“How is that a surprise? And I couldn’t hear a bunch of it or what she said, but I got that part.”

“Shocked you managed to keep that one to yourself for so long. Seems like way too juicy a topic for you to just leave for that long.”

“It’ll be funnier later, I can’t burn all my ammo at once.”

“...?”

“What's with you and plants anyways.”

Ugh changing the topic again, what the fuck did that even mean? It’s not like I actually said it outloud. I rubbed my temples and just let it go, there’s no point trying to pry more from him.but

His question about plants was pretty good though… not that I have a hard answer to it.

“I dunno, maybe it’s related to wanting to get outside?  The easiest connection to being ‘outside’ is like nature and shit I guess?  I’m not doing it on purpose, so really your guess is as good as mine.”

“Maybe humanity has its own primal nature that’s never gotten a chance to shine.”

“Can’t say that I’ve ever put much thought into being human, it’s just the default setting.”

“Is it for you now though?”

“...It has to be. The other options are a pile of shit.”

He turned his body around and rested his elbow on my head, having enough manners to let his hand hang on the side of my empty eye.

“Don’t put so much thought into a shitty one off question.  You really need to relax more.”

“Right, I can make blankets now.  We could have a picnic, enjoy a few mre’s and some jerky. Take a swim, see how far the ocean goes, live a real good life.”

“Or you could just push a little further, and bear the pain that comes.”

“What?”

“You’re getting close.”

“God don’t fuck with me like that when I’m about to dive in again.”

“I’m not.”

“Kenneth?”

He didn’t answer right away he just smiled before he asked;

“What would you do first when you get out?”

“You’re actually curious about that?”

“I am.”

“When I get out huh… I’d order a pizza and have a warm shower while I waited for it to show up. Take a nap afterwards in my actual bed.  Get up in the morning and buy a shit ton of groceries and a carton of cigarettes.  I’d make something cooked low and slow, a roast maybe?  Let the smell really fill the house, it’d give me time to smoke, watch tv, catch up on what I missed. Could eat leftover pizza if I got hungry, microwaved nice and warm. Make mashed potatoes, gravy peas, carrots everything you're supposed to do for family dinner. Eat so much and maybe have ice cream waiting for dessert, and top it off with another shower…”  

“There’s a lot about food there.”

“Used to be a cook, just some little place that did a lot of steak and seafood. Wouldn’t be surprised if it closed by now. Wouldn’t make any of that shit at home, but in general I enjoy the process when it’s on my own terms.

“Here I thought I was a Mills expert, and I had no idea.”

The smile that had crept on Ken’s face faded slowly.

“You know they’ll be waiting…”

“Yeah… I doubt they’d let me go shopping on my own, but I kept my other requests pretty doable even if I’m under watch… I’ll just have to convince them to give me a day or two to get it done.”

“Ha...You’ve gotten good at one-sided conversations for an audience, we don’t even know if they can hear for sure.”

“It’s gonna fuck me up during normal conversations, I’m going to be repeating shit people say alot before spitting out an answer…”

“You’ll figure it out... Now just one more test to pass Mills. Oh… 

You know integrity is a pretty good word, you might want to remember it this time.”

“Integrity? What are you even-”

I should have expected it, I was suddenly alone again. How the fuck was the word integrity related to anything? It was a hint for something but what?

As if ignoring me and everything else, flowers around me were softly blowing in the wind. They were fucked up in more ways than I could count but still there was a strange otherworldly of beauty to them. Really what is with me and plants, I’ve never gardened before or anything like that… Ugh, It’s better than the alternative, maybe I should just be happy with that.

It was time to get back on track, I’d delayed it for long enough. Like I’d always done I closed my eyes, and started looking for the single object here I knew wasn’t a part of it. I’d pressed onward in every direction but it was the east that had the least amount of area fully covered. Lately it’s been feeling like the right direction too, not that I could fully explain why.  Today though there was a pull, something stronger than the itches I felt in my brain. There was something of substance out there. So I dove in, spreading my reach forward, hopefully for the final time.

In a way it felt like I was gliding through air, weaving past any object or obstacle that stood in my way. My senses spread all around me, feeling every organ and tissue, for the moved and flowed it was a part of me, just like I was it. That was the connection had to be kept, any interruption large or small would hit my mind like a jackhammer.  There could only be one singular thought for the time being, ‘find what does not belong’. A mantra I repeated over and over, and commanded every inch or myself to follow. 

Further and further, the pressure inside my mind only grew as I moved further away from the ‘real’ me.  My limits were pressing in on me, constricting my thoughts, mudding where and what I was. My thoughts remain focused…  find what does not belong, find what does not belong… 

Further I was getting closer to that pull… it felt like my entire existence was snapping apart, each sense trying to pull away from the directed path.  All I could do was cling to what feelings I could and keep going forward.  Always forward, Always… I was suffocating, my heart felt like it had stopped, everything was fading no matter how hard I tried.  The dark was creeping in.  I reached out towards the only feeling I had left, even if I broke I needed to reach… 

A thunderous crash rang out and everything shook. My eyes shot open and I gasped for breath…  I was here, in one piece… But most importantly right in front of me, in the middle of the flower field was a silver baseball bat. I ran forward almost collapsing in the process but even if I had ended up on my knees the bat was in my hands.  

I’d done it, it was control,  I had found it, ripped it from the gore and claimed it as my own. This bat was mine. It seemed so tiny but it was proof that with time nothing here could object to my will. That all of this-

My celebrations were cut painfully short, the horizon was moving… My actions had been noticed. The world shook, and this world's eldritch nature was finally showing its hand.  Diving in and out of the flesh, the thing that had created all of those pits… a towering snake, or maybe it was closer to a colossal worm… Whatever it was it was flesh entwined and twisted together constantly moving and changing.  The only thing that looked consistent from this far away was the giant toothy maw  where its face should be. 

I may not be able to die here, I don’t know for sure, but getting trapped in that would be a hell that may not ever be possible to escape. Part of me kept wishing for someone to come and help me fight against this… But no one ever would, It was only me… except for… This was what he had to be talking about.  I desperately looked around and screamed.

“Ken! KENNETH WHAT THE FUCK YOU MEAN BY INTEGRETY WAS-”

The air was stolen from my throat, without warning my hands trashed struggling to stay tightly wrapped around the bat. Before without warning a bright glow engulfed everything. From the blinding nothingness, and whispering right next to my ear, Ken spoke.

“It wasn’t just giving me your eye that you forgot that day.”

When my vision finally cleared I could see down the length of the baseball bat were strange glyphs. Around it flowed a power unlike anything I’d ever felt before but at the same time… It reminds me of the air that surrounds that strange woman in the white suit. So this was why Brandon was so sure that he wouldn’t need a gun… I knew there had to be something more to it but this… I could only describe it as something that seemed actually divine, too holy to even be in my hands but accepting them all the same. I couldn’t get rid of the smile that stretched across my face if I tried.  

I still had time to think before it was here… Smashing shit was a fine answer but there might be more to this. If this was Brandon's, what did I know about how he fought… There wasn’t much, but he’d made the first time I saw him in action hard to forget.  He had me close my eyes and a shit ton of insects crawled all over my fist. The way the bugs and their exo-skeletons ordered themselves around me had created what were pretty much knuckle dusters… It happened quick, must have meant that it was a skill he was used to using. It’s not too crazy to guess he'd wrap his insects around this bat too, after all sometimes shit needs a little more than what a blunt object alone could do. 

It was getting close, I had a minute at most before it was on me.  It was enough time to try something stupid.  I stood up and slammed the tip of the bat against the flesh of the ground.  It was like I was shoving a legendary sword into a stone to wait for a king. But my purpose was entirely selfish. I let a cord of meat wrap itself around the length of the bat. Reenforcing with several more pieces of flesh, before I took a deep breath and  drew sharp fangs out the cord’s center. The result leaves those disgusting additions covered in sharp spikes, without an absurd amount of added weight..  I held it up in front of my face and pointed towards the sky. It was time for the final test, so without any more time to delay I spoke its name.

“Integrity.”

That simple word caused the light of the glyphs to spread throughout my deadly additions. Accepting them as part of it. This really was made for Brandon during his prime. This method had been a guess on my part for sure, but it didn’t come out of nowhere.  If he fought monsters for decades,  his counters had to stand up to the test of time. Who’s better to trust than yourself, he’d just needed a base that could keep up with him.  I swang the bat, testing the weight at least once before it all hit the fan. 

There wasn’t a reason to stay still anymore. The scale of what I was planning on fighting didn’t make sense. That worm was at least five times times taller than me, what the fuck was I going to do here? Didn’t know really, but beating the shit out of it was gonna be a large part of it. Even knowing all that, still for one reason or another I ran confidently through the flowers. The bat that seemed to be named Integrity emboldening every step forward. The energy flowing from it almost seemed to leave a trail as it moved through the air. The weapon was good, but I wouldn’t forget everything I’d been practicing. Everything would be going into this, this was the wall I needed to clear. I felt it deep in my gut.

It was here, and immediately shot out from the ground, its landing aim directly at me. I almost fucking screamed, not out of fear but I could feel it’s fucking movements. The senses it held tight screamed their intentions at me. That was the sole reason I was able to dive diagonally into the closest place I knew it wouldn’t hit. The bigger problem now was that it was back under the flesh. 

First thing I needed to do was stop it from diving in and out of the meat like a fucking dolphin. The window I had to get a hit in was too short right now that needed a solution. So I slammed my foot down and covered everything I could in cement. It was breaking through it but it was slowing it down significantly. Felt blood leaking from my nose but I kept up removing the metaphorical ground from under it. Trying to spread the payment directly into the serpent didn’t seem possible. There was too much pushback. The method however did seem to make it tighten against it, further slowing down on its burrowing.  I was reforming the stone as quickly as it was smashing through it, Grinding down its teeth and spikes with every itch forward. It was still a losing game on my part.  Getting thrown directly into this right after pushing my senses so far already, wasn’t leaving me enough to work with.  It was still miles from where I started but it wasn’t going to be enough to kill it.  But killing it wasn’t the outcome I was aiming for with this one was it? No I just needed it out of the fucking ground, and I had giving it no other choice but to blindly crash through the floor and dive out of the ground out if it wanted to avoid being crushed any further. 

There were a few precious moments where it seemed to shake its head where I could take note of it. It was covered with countless fangs at one moment, before being overtaken by new muscles and rearranging the outer shape of it. Still some of the bone it was covered in was snapped, and a fair amount of blood was leaking from it. No where near dead, but I’m sure it was more than motivated to stay the fuck out of ground. 

Those precious few seconds were all I had before it rushed towards me.  Aiming to devour me in a single bite, but it was slower on the pavement that’d flooded above the flesh during the process of extending downwards. It was nothing, I’d already dodged its divebomb, this should be easy, and yeah getting out of the way of the mouth was the easy part.  What I forgot to take into account was how much it’s constantly changing skin might serve a more functional point. Not until a tendril of flesh wrapped around my leg and proceeded to turn that very cement against me.  I was being fucking dragged around. 

Might not be as fast as it used to be, but it was more than enough speed to make the floor feel like sandpaper tearing apart my back. I managed to keep the bat in my hand, or more accurately I pulled off spreading the flesh around the bad and wrapping it around my hand before I lost grip entirely. It kept it with me sure but left me down a hand, narrowing the list of possible moves I had to kicking the shit out of the tendril with little result. Trying to twist my body to at least maybe smash the bat against its side just made it start to lengthen its restraint so started being dragged further behind it. 

Think fucking think… Body would be left a bloody trail on the fucking payment if it this kept up. Fuck it, I could only do something so goddamn stupid. I had contact with the floor, so far in front of me I shot up a hunk of cement diagonally into the air curved ever so sightly towards that fucking worm.  I’d use the slack the tendril had given me, and the speed it was using to fuck me against it with a fucking ramp.  I had one go at this. Either this was a genius fucking plan and I flew and landed on it or I’m going to crash and smash every goddamn bone in my body. 

There wasn’t any time to think, not once I was in the air,  I could only wrap my hands around that bat and hope I'd be able to use this speed to help smash down against its back. For good measure I screamed;

“INTEGRITY!!”

The light shone a trail of strength following it’s metal frame and smashing directly into that goddamn beast. My legs were fucked up beyond comprehension taking most of blunt of the fall, and processing outburst of power but I forced them to at least let me stay knelling on top of that goddamn worm. And I brought that bat down over and over, just as it tried to tear me apart with teeth and fangs of its ever moving flesh. Over and over the trade of blows continued, my thoughts long since gone reduced to nothing, just a rage and unending desire to see this thing stop fucking moving, backed up by the strengh of the bat I clung so tightly too. Cracks started to form along my foes' back, light bleeding out of them, and slowing its moments. Still I kept going  over and over until my arms no longer listened to my orders. It was enough though. Soon Integrity's light had devoured it from the inside, and it crumbled apart beneath me.  Stones of black obsidian were all that remained of that primal Grudge’s corpse, everything else had been consumed by the now unassuming bat.

I fell to the ground, nothing worked, my arms were shredded to pieces and just about every fucking bone had to be broken or cracked.  But through that unbelievable pain a sense of euphoria, as if a weight within my mind had been cast away. My eye closed only one thought remained;  That I’m getting the fuck out of here and going home. Then like so many times before I lost the world, and dove into endless darkness.

“God, that’s annoying.”

Just like old times, Ken’s voice spoke out in the nothingness.

“Ughhhh… What is it this time…?“

“That was probably both the stupidest and coolest thing you’ve ever done.”

“It was all bullshit I made up on the spot.”

“I know but it worked, that’s why it’s so goddamn annoying. It actually looked like you knew what you were doing there.”

“Great glad you enjoyed the show… More importantly… Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about the bat back then?”

“You would have died if you knew.

“With something like that, how?”

“Real divinity only comes from one place. If you set it off back then that stench would have clung to you. When you encountered the other eldritch lords around that over the top table of theirs they would have acted, and not just mocked their sibling for struggling against a human. 

Probably leading to them trying to use you to find out where that light came from, something they’ve been trying to reach for longer than anyone could ever comprehend. It’d quickly turn into a real endless suffering kinda deal.”

“So filling in the blanks… Brandon must have told me about it, and when I was spewing everything I knew to you…”

“You told me everything, and I said forget that name.”

“Ugh… I’d be pissed if I wasn’t so tired.”

“Rest up then, you’ll probably need it for what comes next.”

“God, don’t imply grim shit right now, I can’t handle that right now.”

“Shut up, and let this nothing fade then Mills.”

He’s such a pain in my ass…  But he was right, it was time to let go, let sleep take over and recover…

When I finally came to it was actually the sound of birds chirping that actually woke me up. Slowly I opened my eye, and found myself staring at the ceiling of my room. 

“Holy shit…”

I did it.  I actually fucking did it… I went to rest my arm over my eyes but something felt strange… There were three black bands wrapped around my forearm, another three were also on my other arm… They didn’t necessarily feel uncomfortable, but no matter how I poke and prodded them they wouldn’t move.  Concerning, but I let my arms fall back on the bed. 

If I’m here… it means after I was treated, ran through who the fuck knows how many tests, and given whatever the bands were before I being dropped off at home.  All but confirming that they heard and saw everything that had happened there. I closed my eye again and tried to forget the stupid shit I said and did in there. But that just led to me falling into my old habit of spreading my senses out. I hit something, it wasn’t the same feeling that the graveyard left me. I was pretty sure something or someone alive was here. I let out a groan and actually got up to take a look. I felt so goddamn stiff moving down the hall ways

When I reached my kitchen there was some old guy sitting at my table. He had glasses on and was reading a newspaper, dressed in a dress shirt and tie. The paper seemed strange when he had put his cell phone on the table next to him. Annoyingly I could feel his heartbeat from across the room.  I didn’t like that at all, being so aware of another person's organs was awkward, especially this far away.. I grabbed my head with a hand. Ugh come on… drown it out, you aren’t in there anymore, keep your senses inside your body.

I went to my cupboard grabbing a glass there, it was coated in dust… I shook my head a little, I wanted to avoid thinking about how long it had been for a little longer... So I just walked to the sink  and rinsed the dust out before filling it with water from the tap. Such a basic goddamn thing…  But it seemed monumental after how long it took for me to make water appear.  The stranger had been watching my every move.

“I’m sure you’ve got-”

“Stop.  Just order a pepperoni pizza and whatever the hell you want since you’re sure as hell paying.”

I downed the glass of water while he seemed almost a little knocked off guard, but he was still quick on the recovery… 

“Let me guess, you’ve got a shower to take…”

I didn’t respond, just waved towards him to get to it and assumed he got the message.  While I was collecting clothes and a towel I couldn’t ignore the fact that aside from the cups most of this place was maintained.  Maybe even prepared for my return.  

It’d be a while but I was pretty sure some of the clothes there weren’t things I’d bought.  Not that I cared much about my fashion game right now, I just grabbed the first tshirt and the closest pair of sweatpants, I cared about comfort and comfort alone.

I would have jumped right into the shower but I ended up staring at myself in the mirror… I looked… weird I guess, the chest scar remained as strange as it had ever been. There were new scars, but there should have been far more. The deep ones ones on my shoulder that seemed almost like claw marks might have been from the fight with that fucked up worm. 

I was being slashed too quickly to take every single hit in.  But that was the strange part… Most of my body had been ripped apart by the end of it… Where were the signs of everything else, why’d just those ones stick around? I didn’t get it, maybe there was nothing to get and those ones had just been worse somehow. Ugh it doesn’t matter, I was here for a shower. This was just wasting time.

Hot water alone was something magical, like I'd risen from the ashes and been reborn in a better world. Not smelling like blood, or feeling that clamminess,  having clean fucking hair.. All simple things, but I felt like I was in heaven.  Even after I’d finished I sat in the tub and just let the hot water wash over me.  At least until it ran out, and I was left with left cold water that didn’t hit the same. It’d been long enough already, so this was a good enough excuse to dry off and get dressed.

Two pizza boxes were laid out on my table. It turned out that my guest went for hawaiian when it came to pizza. I sat down across from him and grabbed a slice out of the unopened box.  He’d splurged on extra large, he was trying to make a good first impression. He looked fairly unassuming at first, only a few scars on his face hinted at his area of expertise. The fact that he must have been in his 50’s and still doing this kinda work said more than enough. They’d sent an expert, it’s just strange it wasn’t Sneckdraw… I guess I did keep hearing he was constantly busy.

The food was incredible, but the growing tension in the air was becoming suffocating.  

“Did you want to start or should I? Call me Harris by the way, everyone does.”

“Harris huh… Take you’re here to make sure I don’t leave.”

“Yeah, they’ve got a man my age playing babysitter, I used to be a cleaner, sure, but this is a bit under my paygrade these days.”

“Cleaner… I assume you aren’t talking about being a maid type, and more the problem solving kind.”

“Got it in one. Sorry to disappoint, if you were hoping for the former. I don’t think these legs can pull off a frilly french dress anymore.  I’d also need to be paid far more for the trouble so there’s the issue of your own financial stability to take into account ”

I tried to hold back my laughter but it broke though regardless. Fuck, keep it together stay serious, just change the topic... 

“So is this gonna turn out to be my final meal?”

“Well that all depends on you, we could stay civilized, enjoy our food, and have a peaceful few days exactly like you planned…”

He leaned forward, his glare intense.

“Or we could spend a wonderful time exploring everything those bands wrapped around your arms are capable of. I’d recommend the first if you aren’t a masochist, and probably still recommend the first if you are. That’d just be a weird way to start a partnership, and I’m already in a very committed relationship.”

“You’re already bringing up a close relationship like that? Isn’t that the kind of thing monsters would take advantage of?”

“I’ve read your report, and I wouldn’t call you a monster after it. You sounded a bit strange, prone to screaming matches with nothing, and some questionable outbursts of stupidity but not a mad beast. 

And really if you tried anything she’d kill you long before I could catch up.”

“Let me guess that you met on the job then.”

“I did.  So Mills, are we going to have a problem or should we just be friends, I’d like that since we’re going to be stuck together.”

“Stuck together? This isn’t just a one time assignment?”

“Nope, I’m unfortunately it for the long haul. Anytime you’re not under someone else's management, I’ll be in charge of your day to day activities. It’s standard practice for all abnormal’s. The adults need to make sure everyone gets along nicely after all.”

Condescending bastard…

“What about Sneckdraw and Brandon? They have people breathing down their necks too?���

“Not as directly as you do, but everyone involved in the paranormal these days has eyes on them.  As for Sneckdraw he’s been active for so long that he’s more than proven he can be trusted. Really I don’t think anyone could keep up with him if they tried, rumors are he doesn’t even sleep. They aren’t true of course but it’s enough to get the kind of impression he leaves.”

He grabbed another slice of pizza and leaned back in his chair before he continued.

“Brandon on the other hand manages the archives, so he barely leaves his office. He used to be a pretty big deal 20 years ago, but was thrown into retirement after he unintentionally ended up opening a few too many random bystanders' third eyes. He also had a reputation for extreme violence, so the combination raised too many risks.”

“Third eye… So he made it so normal people could see monsters?” 

“His bugs are close enough to both reality, and the unexplainable.  So when enough of them are outside of his body it tends to snap the mind to seeing what it shouldn’t be capable of. And once that wall is broken there’s no going back. 

By thought point though he’s adjusted to his current life, and he can use multiple computers and file things all at once.  So he ends up with a lot of downtime, and spends most of it slacking off.”

“Then why was he sent to see me in the hospital back then?”

“I can’t say that I heard about that… If I had to guess things can get pretty busy so there’s not a lot of free hands at times.  Since sneckdraw was directly involved it was likely due to a request on his behalf. They were partners back when Brandon was active, so on rare occasions that call for it Sneckdraw tends to get away with involving him.

You know, I really thought you’d be asking questions related to yourself, not them of all people.”

I shrugged.

“Getting into that kind of mind fuckery is something I’m not ready to deal with yet. After I get dragged back into hell, sure, but for now I’m taking it easy.”

“That’s for the best when you’re looking at it like that.

I wanted that to be the end but there was a burning question, that even knowing how hard it would hit.

“Even with that said… How long was I gone for?

“Around three months.”

“...Shit.”

Back then I was sure that 2 weeks felt like it had been about 6 months… So was it actually about three years there..? Did it feel like that?  How many days did I just stop thinking for, or how long had I actually been out for when I pushed things too far… Shit.  I had expected longer, maybe like a year, but less seemed overwhelming in its own special way. 

Harris had caught on to those unstable thoughts. Christ was Kenneth right when he said my expression always gave what I was thinking away?

“If you care, they said you held up better than predicted. It still might be better not to think about that part too much. You’ve got your plan. So go relax, everything you’ll need is already stocked and ready.”

I breathed in and recentered myself, he’s right. That’s not something I can worry about yet. Stay here and now. Ask about what matters. 

“Even the cigarettes part of it?”

He pointed to a cupboard, and I quickly collected them and a lighter before heading outside. It was late, honestly night was something I missed. I found myself headed to the curb and just sat down, cracked open the pack and lit up a cigarette. That oh so familiar feeling filled my lungs, and the smell took me back to better days. I couldn’t help but cough a few times, given how long it’d been since I’d done this. Still it made things feel manageable, looking up at the night sky also got me in a good mood. I’d wanted this for so long, it honestly felt like I was still dreaming.

Yet there was still a looming reminder, Harris was watching me from the doorway. His expression blank and hard to read… It didn’t matter… nothing else mattered.  I wanted to stay here, mind and body just for a little while. Where nothing else mattered but the stars and the night sky. 

[wooahaes]

tangled lights

pairing: non-idol!jaehyuk x gn!reader

genre: coffee shop au. coworkers au.

word count: 1.4k~

warnings: food mentions. reader isnt a fan of the holiday season.

daisy's notes: ngl sometimes i kinda miss having a christmas tree

Why the hell did the store need a Christmas tree out on the floor? It was just taking up space, and someone (read: you) had to be the unfortunate idiot who decorated it all alone while the rest of your coworkers got to do their actual jobs. You had exams to study for! And that should be your priority, not… untangling this stupid spaghetti-pile of lights.

Okay, fine, so maybe Christmas wasn’t your favorite time of year. Sure, it brought some nice things, like the limited time specialty hot chocolate drinks that you were more than happy to use your employee discount on… and the limited time cookies that you’d always steal the leftovers of when you had the closing shift. But Christmas was just a reminder of too much bullshit. That your family wasn’t in the city, so unless you saved the money to travel, you’d only be calling home this year. Or the fact that you were alone, since Christmas was much more couple-y. The countless number of couples who came into the coffee shop were people you had to greet with a forced smile (they never seemed to notice, though), and it was starting to get tiring because they were always a thousand times more cuddly and sappy than normal.

Some people might call it jealousy. You preferred to think of yourself as more practical. What was so special about the Christmas season that made people awful to deal with? Couples aside, you swore people got much more high-strung with you and other people in service jobs for no damn reason. Sorry, but yelling at you wasn’t going to get their kid the toy that sold out immediately. 

Andn ow the fucking lights were even more tangled. The place was empty, and it was late, and you were about to start yelling. Your boss needed this tree up yesterday and the busy hours had kept you from doing the damn job. 

“Fuck this!” You threw them down in a rage, getting up and walking away. All you needed was a few minutes and you’d tackle it again. How did these lights even get this tangled? After your shift today, all you wanted to do was make your stupid hot chocolate drink, clean the machines, and go home to watch whatever video essay popped up on YouTube. With another frustrated groan, you slammed a fist down on the countertop, before relaxing. With a sigh, you looked back at your current enemy. “Why did she have to pick me for this…?”

Someone like Asahi would be better at this. You saw the drawings he made and the photos he took—he had an eye for this kind of thing. Or Jaehyuk; he loved this time of year. Sometimes you wondered how he managed to be so positive at work, but you’d seen the moments where he needed to step into the back to collect himself. If anything, seeing Jaehyuk was just this reminder that you were this mess compared to your coworkers. No wonder none of them seemed to like you all that much: you weren’t there to be best friends with any of them, you were there to get paid. Sure, you were friendly enough with them, but you never really let shit slide: if someone treated you wrong, you called them out in the back room and demanded their basic respect. 

Maybe that was why people didn’t seem to like you. Other people still made an effort to be friends. And you… Well, your friends had joked once that you were an “acquired taste” as a person—but one they appreciated nonetheless. The “they asked for no pickles” friend who couldn’t stand to see someone else struggle out of the need to be polite when the answer was just “speak up for yourself.” You let out a long sigh. Maybe… Maybe you needed to find a different job where you could start over. 

The sound of your name being called made you look up, and you stared at where Jaehyuk of all people was standing outside the store entrance. He waved at you, speaking louder, although it was far too muffled for you to fully understand what he was saying. You made your way over, clicking the door unlocked, and he stepped in, thanking you quickly.

“I forgot my textbook,” he said, dusting snow off of his shoulders. Then he looked at you again, “Why are you still here?”

Maybe you’d die right here and not have to admit that a Christmas tree was getting the better of you. 

Of course, Jaehyuk had to lean forward enough to see the tree. “Oh, you’re still working on it?” He locked the door behind him, already shedding his coat. “I can help! It’s already getting late—and you still have to close up properly, right?”

Wait, what. 

“I think if we work together, we’ll be done faster,” Jaehyuk continued on without much of a care, making his way over to where you’d thrown down the Christmas lights. “I’ll start untangling these while you get the ornaments from the back.”

At long last, your brain seemed to have caught up, and the first thing you said was “You don’t have to do that.” 

Jaehyuk had already pulled over a chair, “It’s late,” he said. “And you have more to do—I don’t mind helping. I can call Asahi, too, if you want—”

“No!” You made your way over. “No, that’s… You don’t have to bother him. This was supposed to be my job for some reason. You can get your book and go home,” you said, reaching for the string lights in his hands that he was already managing to untangle far easier than you did. “Really. It’s okay.”

Jaehyuk looked up at you, frowning a little. “You can ask for help if you need it,” he said. “And… I owe you.” 

You furrowed your brow. “Owe me?”

“For Saturday,” he said. “You chewed out that lady after she purposefully spilled her coffee down my apron.”

“Uh. Yeah, because she literally could have burned you,” you crossed your arms. “She’s lucky she left that cup sitting up there for so fucking long otherwise you could have literally sued her, I’m sure.” 

“My brain always seems to turn off when people get that angry,” he admitted. “It’s nice to know you have my back.” Jaehyuk paused, looking up from the lights in his hands. “... The ornaments?”

Fuck. Right. You walked away to find the box from the back room, snagging his textbook from where it was sitting on a table. One less thing for him to worry about. He thanked you when you set it down on the table next to him, and you pushed the box aside. No need to start hanging those until the lights were up. You reached for the other end of the tangled lights, and began to work again.

“Like I was saying…, You don’t owe me for that. I would have done it for anyone,” you shrugged. “I’m not gonna let someone get mistreated because some customers genuinely think they’re always right.” 

“You still didn’t have to do it,” he said. “I appreciate it. I always like working shifts with you because of it.”

The sentiment nearly made you laugh. He had to be joking, right? “Riiight, sure.”

He looked up, stopping in his work for a moment. “Why did you say it like that?”

“I know what other people think of me,” you said. “You don’t have to pretend you like me. Respecting me is fine.” 

“But I do like you.” Jaehyuk only continued to stare at you, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

If anyone else had said it, you’d find it hard to believe. But Jaehyuk was different: Jaehyuk didn’t seem like the kind of person who would outright lie—at least not so easily. The quick way he said it, the genuine confusion on his face… Suddenly, you had to wonder why you’d mentally cataloged Jaehyuk as someone so out of reach for someone like you.

“Oh.” You felt your face heat up with embarrassment, and you busied yourself even further with untangling the lights. “Hey, um… Jaehyuk?”

He hadn’t stopped staring at you, still so confused. “Yeah?”

“Do you… Do you want to help me decorate the tree?” You looked up. “And… Maybe grab a hot chocolate later, too? I mean, you don’t have to, but—”

He chuckled softly, that same soft, sweet smile on his face as he nodded. “I’d love to.” 

taglist: @twancingyunhao

[laudys83]

Drifting back to you

Day 7: A promise kept

Alzagar couldn’t have said exactly how he had ended up in this situation, but the fact remained that he was sitting on the edge of his bed, while Venec stood before him, putting his coat back on.

That was definitely not part of the plan.

He had followed the course of the evening, convinced that this time, it was finally happening. Venec had stayed longer than usual, had drunk just enough, had settled into his space without the slightest hesitation. There had been no deal to strike, no bargaining—just the two of them and the strange tension that had lingered since their last conversation. Alzagar was sure that everything would finally resolve itself in the most obvious way possible.

But now, Venec was getting ready to leave.

“What are you doing?” Alzagar asked, arms crossed, his tone sharper than he had intended.

Venec glanced at him, amused, adjusting the strap of his satchel. “Well, I’m heading out.”

Alzagar blinked, unable to hide his frustration. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“For fuck’s sake, do you really think I brought you here just to watch you walk away like nothing happened?”

Venec shrugged. “I never promised anything.”

“Exactly.” Alzagar stood up abruptly, irritation clear in his stance. “For once, you could have followed through on something…”

Venec chuckled, but there was no mockery in his gaze—just a flicker of tired amusement. He placed a brief hand on Alzagar’s shoulder before stepping back. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Of course you do.” Alzagar rolled his eyes, exasperated. “You always have things to do. And I’m just supposed to swallow your bullshit?”

Venec raised his hands in mock innocence. “That’s up to you. But I’ll be back.”

“Oh yeah?” Alzagar crossed his arms, skeptical. “When, exactly? A year? Two?”

“A few weeks.”

Alzagar let out a humorless laugh. He knew Venec too well to fall for that kind of empty promise. “Yeah, keep dreaming,” he muttered, dropping back onto the bed. “Go fuck yourself.”

Venec said nothing, simply casting one last glance at him before stepping through the door.

Alzagar waited until he heard the sound of his footsteps fading down the corridor before exhaling sharply, running a hand through his hair. He was an idiot. He knew Venec wasn’t the type to stay, to linger. So why did it piss him off so much this time? Wiping away the mix of frustration and disappointment, he grabbed his belongings and left the room, catching the first boat to Cyprus.

Alzagar hadn’t thought about that night in weeks. At least, that’s what he told himself. In truth, every time he stepped into a tavern or sat at his usual table, he half-expected to see Venec appear, slouched against the doorframe like he owned the place. But nothing. Just emptiness, and the growing feeling that he’d been a fool to believe, even for a second, that this damn merchant of promises would actually come back.

So when he opened his door that night, after hearing someone pound on it as if the house were on fire, he froze for a moment.

There, standing in the flickering torchlight, was Venec—dusty, his boots still marked by the road, wearing an expression Alzagar couldn’t quite decipher.

Silence.

Then Venec smirked, that lazy grin Alzagar would have recognized anywhere. “I made a promise.”

Alzagar stared at him. He could have laughed, but he didn’t. He could have slammed the door in his face, but his fingers remained frozen on the handle.

“How long?” he finally asked, his voice rougher than he had intended.

Venec raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “How long am I staying? Or how long have I been in town?”

Alzagar scowled. Venec chuckled softly. “A few days. I stuck around, wanted to see if you’d show up somewhere before I made the effort to come up here.” He shrugged. “But you never moved. Were you waiting for someone, maybe?”

Alzagar clenched his teeth. It took all his restraint not to punch him.

“Get inside before I change my mind.”

Venec didn’t need to be told twice. He stepped over the threshold, his eyes scanning the space, taking in every detail of Alzagar’s home. He closed the door behind him in silence, then crossed his arms, fixing Alzagar with an unreadable look.

“Why now?” Alzagar asked at last.

Venec shrugged, as if the answer were obvious. “I said I’d come back.”

“And you kept your word.” Alzagar let out a dry laugh. “Congratulations, really. What’s that supposed to prove, exactly?”

Venec took a step closer, shrinking the space between them. Alzagar didn’t move, but his whole body was on edge, ready to react—to what, he wasn’t sure.

“Nothing at all,” Venec said. “Just that I’m here.”

The silence between them stretched, thick with something unspoken. Alzagar’s gaze flickered, almost involuntarily, to the wooden staircase leading to the upper floor—to his bedroom.

Venec caught on without a word, and his smirk widened. “You could at least offer me a drink first,” he said, feigning offense, laughing as Alzagar turned scarlet and hurried to pour him a cup of wine.

“To us.” Venec toasted alone, winking at his host before taking a slow sip.

Challenge by @monthlywritingchallenges