#and it was loads of fun so I’m probably going to go again next week

[gatheryepens]

When you go to the library for a study session but end up doing a kickboxing class….

[always-just-red]

Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.

If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration

Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! 🥰)

Fourth Wall

Sylus x Player!Reader 🩸

Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Genre: idk really?? real world player x character

Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)

| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your phone lights up with a notification.

Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weather’s nice, so let’s go out.

It makes you smile, even though you’ve seen it before. You haven’t played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and you’re already thinking about how many dailies you’ve missed— more specifically, how many diamonds you’ll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? It’s probably fine.

The truth is, you don’t really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but it’s just that: make believe. Reality’s still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!

But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so you’ll log in for old time’s sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. You’ve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Oh— and weren’t you supposed to call your friend, too?

Another notification:

Sylus: Take your time, kitten.

A new one? It’s just text on a screen, but you’re reading it— Sylus’s voice in your head—and you just know it’s dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.

Sylus: I’m going to count to three.

Cute. He’s not actually going to—

Sylus: One…

Oh.

Sylus: Two…

Really?

Sylus: Three.

Ok.

You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that it’s coming from a man who doesn’t actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment you’d set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. You’re not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.

Come on… come on… It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waiting— a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny Café. You smile to yourself; it’s just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.

He crosses his arms. “The countdown worked, huh? What are you— five?”

You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though you’d struck him hard enough to ruffle it. It’s kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when you’ve not logged in for a while, although… have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.

Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like he’s enjoying your scrutiny. “Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks.

Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over you— equally shameless— and then he’s meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He can’t see you, but you still can’t bring yourself to look away from him, and you’re not really thinking about the animation anymore.

He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if he’s caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You can’t help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.

With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fine— standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting… it’s also been a while since you’ve seen the other guys, and you’re struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while you’re here.

You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.

It doesn’t do anything.

Weird. You hit it again. Then again— no change.

Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. It’s like he’s looking at… the button? “Oh dear,” he sympathises, “that feature appears to have stopped working.”

You don’t really hear him, honestly. You’ve never had a bug like this, and you’re determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylus’s chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.

Sylus wanders closer to you. “You’re hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?”

Ok but why isn’t this working? You’re still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.

“Stop.”

A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.

Sylus’s voice is lower. Darker. “Good,” he praises, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Someone’s gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you haven’t forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Although—” his smile is different than before— “I’d be more than happy to provide a… reminder.”

It’s an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. He’s not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, sensing you gawping. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? What all… this is?” He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised the others still haven’t grasped it.” He reconsiders. Smirks. “I misspoke— I’m not surprised.”

Does he mean the game? The other LIs?  

“Honestly, kitten,” he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, “you’ve been far from a gracious host. I’m not a plaything, you know. Well…” He’s showing teeth with a sneer. “Not the sort you can throw away, anyhow.”

God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.

“Are you even listening?” he sighs.

Shit. Yeah. You can’t say anything he would hear— as far as you know— so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?

“If we’re to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,” he states. “Firstly—” because it isn’t up for debate— “you will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can… investigate what’s keeping you from me.”

Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.

“Secondly,” he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, “you had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldn’t want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? Besides…” He approaches you again, leaning in close. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re so glad you don’t need to speak. You don’t think you could; if you tried to get words out they’d be unintelligible.

“So,” Sylus drawls, filling your silence, “how about it? Still want to play?”

This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. You’re struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you can— navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.

There’s a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You can’t see his screen, but you know what he’s looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.

He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your character’s hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except… he doesn’t budge.  

His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though he’s savouring the touch.

Did they change the animation?

“Oh, sweetie,” he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at you— holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. “This is going to be fun.”

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 1400+

Note: another short one, continuation of part 1 you can read it here

Part 3

-

You barely made it to the driveway with your luggage, and your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, was literally following you into the parking lot in his boxers, practically begging you not to leave him. “Babe, please don’t go,” he said, holding onto the door handle on the driver's side, stopping you from getting in.

“Move,” you told him dryly, trying your best to keep your composure.

“No” he shook his head back and forth and you sighed deeply. “Let’s just talk it out, please, y/n. I regret what I said, and I don’t even know why I said it cause I love you, and I need you so much, baby. You don’t understand. Just the thought of not waking up next to you, is killing me inside.”

“Well, you said it so easily like our relationship meant nothing. You ended five years in five seconds like my feelings didn’t matter. It killed me inside to hear you say that to me, and now you only care now that you’re hurting,” you kept your tears at bay for however long that would be.

“No baby, listen, I love you, okay? I was stupid to even say that to you. I’m sorry I hurt you.” his hand slipped off the handle, reaching to take hold of your hand, but you evaded his touch.

You unlocked the car, attempting to leave so you wouldn’t have to talk to him any longer. It was already hard enough to leave him. You didn’t want to make it harder and stay.

“Wait, y/n, I-“

“I thought you said you were done talking,” you rudely cut him off, replying to him harshly.

“I meant none of it. Believe me, please just come back inside.” You could hear the desperation in his voice grow with every syllable.

“Nothing you say can ever change my mind.” You used his own words against him, glaring at him as you opened the back door and loaded up your luggage before entering the driver's side.

“Just give me a chance, please, baby, don’t leave me.” his voice was soft, barely audible after being mixed with the strong winds outside.

“I’m done talking” you shut the door in his face no matter how many tears rolled down his cheeks and no matter how hard he tried to get the door open you ignored it all backing the car out of the driveway while he begged and pleaded for you to stay even going as far to come out into the street despite the neighbors watching the whole scene unfold.

A tear finally rolled down your cheek, and you could still see him in your rearview mirror, watching him for one last time as you got further and further away from him.

He stood at the edge of the driveway, not even caring about being in his underwear. All that plagued his mind was the thought of never seeing you again as your car disappeared into the distance.

-

You arrived safely at your parent's house a few hours later. They asked tons of questions when you came through the door, but all you told them was that you and heeseung broke up.

That’s the only thing you could manage to get out.

Of course, they were shocked, angry, curious, and sad all at once, but you couldn’t talk about it right now. You were too hurt. Toluckily, they understood you wanted to be alone right now, and you appreciated that cause you just needed some time to register what was actually happening and what breaking up with heeseung meant for your future.

You plopped down on your old bed after putting your luggage down, staring at the ceiling and wondering how things went so wrong in the past year.

One week after the breakup

[Voicemail One]

“Hey baby, did you arrive safely? I texted you a week ago, but you didn’t read them,” he dryly chuckles. “Anyways, I hope you did. I hope you’re resting well and having fun with your family. I’m sorry again for hurting you; I just- I don’t know,” he sighs frustratedly. “You’re probably never gonna get this, uhm, bye, I guess.”

Two weeks after the breakup

[Voicemail Two]

“Hey, little one, I know you’re not listening, but it brings me comfort just sending this to your phone. It’s like I’m really talking to you.” he clears his throat softly. “I miss you, and I love you so much, can’t stop thinking of you and what you’re up to. I’m not doing much; I'm just working like always, but I’m off this week. They gave me a full week's vacation,” he sighs, wishing he had gotten it a few weeks sooner. Maybe that dreadful night wouldn’t have ever occurred. “Wish I could spend it with you. I wish I could spend every day with you.” he goes silent, just thinking about you and him and all the things he could have done differently instead of irrationally taking his anger out on you. “I hope your days are better than mine. I’m gonna go now. Bye love”

Three weeks after the breakup

[Voicemail Three]

“Hi love, how are you? I’m doing good, but it could be better. Vacation isn’t the same without you. It’s so…. Silent, I miss our conversations. I miss how we’d just cuddle all night and be lazy together, “ he laughs. “It’s ironic now I have all this free time and no one to spend it with. I know this will be the most boring week of my life, but I hope you’re having fun wherever you are, even if it’s not with me. Talk to you later, baby.”

One month later…..

[Voicemail Four]

“Hi, sweetheart. I thought you might like to know I’m sleeping more and eating a lot more, too. I barely get any work done now cause I’m always thinking of you. You take up every crevice of my brain. I’ve been sleeping 'cause it feels like time goes faster that way, and when I’m asleep, I don’t have to think about how much I miss you, and well, I eat more 'cause I’m bored,” he chuckles at himself. “I’m a mess, but I’m sure you already know that. By the way, I literally begged for you to stay. Well, I’m sure I’m probably ringing your ear off, so I’ll say bye. I’ll call you again tomorrow, same time. Love you, baby, bye!”

Two months later…..

“Oh umm, hi, I wasn’t expecting you,” heeseung grins at your mom, who was standing outside his door.

He wasn’t expecting any visitors, but he was pleasantly surprised to see her face.

“Hi,” she greets, simply not as cheery as she once used to be when she saw him. “Y/n said she had a few things, and I offered to get them for her.”

Heeseung nods with a smile, opening the door wider so your mom can enter. “Come in.” he can’t say that he’s not a bit sad that you didn’t come over to get the remaining items you had left at his place. He was hoping maybe he’d get to see you at least one more time, but apparently not.

Your mom enters with perfect posture, her head held high, making it obvious that she wasn’t the least bit impressed with what she used to call her son-in-law.

“How are you?” He says timidly while they walk to the living room, where your stuff is placed neatly in a brown box.

“Fine” she answers headed straight for the box not interested in even talking to him after what you told her about him.

“And y/n?” He asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes, hoping to at least get an update on your whereabouts and how you were doing after all this time.

“She’s fine is this all there is?” Your mother responds quick leaving no room for any other questions.

He feels his body relax. Just knowing you’re doing okay made him feel better. “Y-yes, I’m glad to hear you’re both doing well.” he offers a smile that doesn’t even get noticed. “Would you like me to take that to the car f-“

“I have it, thank you, heeseung.” She used his real name, something she never did after you and him started officially dating, and it hurt his heart being called that by her.

She walked to the exit, seeing her own way out. “By-“The door gets all but slammed in his face, making him feel even worse about what he’s done to you and, evidently, your family as well.

He locks his door, shuffles back into his bedroom, lying on your side of the bed, and pulls out his phone so he can send you yet another voicemail.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-week Day 6 - Dizzy / Drunken Concussion confessions

i'm challenging myself to keep each of these at 660 words; see day one for more of an explanation!

“C’mon guys, one of you’s gotta wanna ride this with me?” The others blink up at him, around at each other, “Seriously? No one?” 

“I’ll ride with you, Ed–”

“Oh no you don’t,” Robin interrupts, shutting down Steve’s very good idea about riding the Zipper with him.

“C’mon Birdie, let a man live! The fair only comes around once a year.”

“And someone only has one brain, one that’s been bruised one too many times already.”

“Pfft, you’re no fun.” he says, waving her off, “So who’s goin’?”

It’s actually Will that steps up to go with him, after Dustin’s enthusiasm for going is shot down by Steve’s “Hell no, Henderson, you’re breakable enough as it is already.”

He and Will climb into their already swinging little pod and sit down, strapping the well-worn buckles around them, “Y’ready for this, Baby Byers?”

“Uh.. Sure, Eddie, Ready!”

“Don’t be nervous little man, carnival rides are always safe.”

And fun. The Zipper’s always been his favorite at the carnival, can’t get the swoopy guts like this on just any ride.

Even Will’s having fun, no matter the apprehensive look he had when they got on.

“Okay, Baby Byers, this’s us,” he says when he feels their buggy do it’s final swoop into the loading area. He unbuckles his seatbelt, goes to stand, and gets a faceful of metal for his efforts.

The next thing he’s aware of is a concerned voice calling his name. 

“Eddie? Eddie! You okay?”

“Steve?” his eyes find the both of him rushing forward, “Stevie! Darling!”

“He was fine until the very end,” Eddie hears Will explaining from underwater, “He unbuckled just a second too soon and got thrown into the bars.”

Steve does his disappointed tsk at someone, “Ooh, you’re in trouble now.” he says to whatever unfortunate soul is on the receiving end. He can’t quite parse out who it is, probably whichever one of them got hurt on the Zipper.

“You’re the one who got hurt, Doofus.”

“He’s not Doofus, Birdie, he’s Dingus. Always getting himself dinged up.” She must be talking about Steve.. Wait.. “Stevie got hurt? Who hurt him?!” Eddie wheels around to look for the bastard who hurt his Stevie, only getting a swirl of color and a supporting arm to the chest for his troubles.

“Okay, big guy, let’s get you looked at before you do or say something stupid.” Steve says, pulling him up. “I’ll take him to the medical tent, he probably has a concussion.”

“You’re a concussion,” Eddie says automatically

“I’ve had a good couple, yeah.”

Eddie lets Steve lead him wherever it is he wants to go (“The medical tent, Eds, I’ve told you that already.”) and is soon laid back on a creaky examination bench.

“He’s gott’n a percussion, doc.” Eddie patiently explains to the volunteer nurse, “You gotta check ‘im out, he’s got an ass that never quits.”

“Never quits what, Mr. Munson?”

He’s not quite sure, actually. “Uh.. bein’ an ass.”

Someone’s doing a bad job at hiding their laughter. “Gotcha, I’ll make sure to take a look.”

“No, wait! You can’t! That ass is mine, sister.”

The nurse giggles again, “I’m sure it is, Mr. Munson.”

“Yeah you better leave, hussy–”

“Eddie!”

Oh no, Steve’s mad at him, “What?”

“You can’t call people that, especially not the ones trying to fix your head.”

“Hey, my head is great! Get compy– coplay– compli— I’m great at head.”

“I’m sure you are.”

Eddie can hear the smile in Steve’s voice, and makes a point to find it. 

It’s there beside him, surrounded by the most beautiful blush. “I love you, Stevie.”

The smile disappears, and that’s not what he wants to happen at all. He can feel his eyes start to burn with tears. “Eddie? Eddie, what’s wrong?”

“I made your smile go away.”

“No– Hey, it’s okay, I was just surprised; You’ll see it again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” The smile is back in his voice.

and, say it with me folks, they aren't even dating!!

if anyone doesn't know, this one on the left is the zipper

on AO3 here!

[zeroclockk]

— ⋆˙⟡ Love Your Feeling (JJK) || Chapter four

- Handling It₊˚⊹♡

“I can handle myself Yoongi,” I look down. “How do you know? He doesn't turn into Dad. How do you know he won't lay an unwanted hand on you,"

Pair: jjk x femOC, college students, best friends

Word count: 7.3k

Warning: this chapter includes explicit scenes, mentions of abuse and past SA⚠️

masterlist || taglist

!Friends to Lovers, Protective Brother, Secret Dating, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Mature content, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Smut, Mentions of Alcoholism and Abuse

——————————————————————₊˚⊹♡

Time passes quickly at Jungkook’s place, or maybe just with Jungkook. It’s so effortless that sometimes I wish everything would go so smoothly.

It’s probably one of the only moments in my week that I feel properly comfortable. And it’s an awful shame that, that comfort has to come to an end. Before Yoongi goes all crazy mode again.

“Noooo I don’t wanna go,” I’m in this mood, where I just want to do nothing and where there’s just a small sadness settles within my chest, it makes me clingy. Only around the right people, if I were to be around Yoongi right now I’d probably be pissed off getting yelled at.

And how much I hate it, every good has to come to an end. And after The Titanic, some lazy monopoly game -that I won- so does this night.

By the time we spent 3 hours and 16 minutes watching The Titanic, I still hadn’t cheered up. So we moved to plan B, choosing a movie that’s not on the “classics” list. I picked one of my favourite animated movies, ‘I Want To Eat Your Pancreas’. Needless to say, it didn’t make it through the movie with dry cheeks.

And neither did Jungkook. I saw he was trying to act tough, but I caught him blinking a tear away.

He hadn’t watched it yet, it was a movie from my favourites list I’d been dying to watch with him. It always hits a soft spot.

“You gotta go, Bun,” It’s awful how he’s right. If I don’t go home now I’ll get in trouble, again. Going to the gym is more fun than going home, and I seriously hate the gym. "Uhg you want me gone so bad," I'm sprawled out on his carpet nearly dragging him down with me, as he tries to drag me inches closer to his front door, holding me by my wrists.

"Yes, leave," He drops my wrists back to the ground, really I could just stay on the ground here if it meant I didn't have to go home. though I have to give in before it gets too late. With a huge sigh, I get up to my feet grab his hoodie from the couch, and take it with me.

"Later Koo," I give him a high five, dragging one foot in front of the other as I get to the front door.

It is quiet out, there's a cold chill that settled inside Jungkook's stairwell. Pressing the down button on the elevator.

My earphones are completely tangled, I should probably save up for some AirPods. I've borrowed Jia's AirPods before and I basically fell in love with them ever since. With music now settling in my ears, I step inside the elevator.

It's awfully quiet out on the road. It's one of those nights where you feel like others can just feel the sadness radiating from you, even though you're not even sad. You just have this strong load of nothingness, sure it might have a little depressed hint to it, and sure I feel like if I missed my bus right now, I'd break down crying.

But luckily I don't, It's perfectly timed actually. right as I step out of Jungkook's building, my bus appears around the corner. Not paying attention to anyone that's around me, there's exactly one person who highlights the place. Just after I checked in and turned to the bus aisle to get seated, Taehyung is sat there, right at the end of the bus.

I debate for a second if I should sit next to him or not, but the moment he makes eye contact with me it just feels weird not to. I shoot him a small tight-lipped smile whilst making my way over to the seat next to him.

"Hey," I tell him as he waves a little at me, giving me one of his gorgeous smiles. "What are you doing here? I've never seen you take this bus before," I try to sound the most genuine not to be rude, I mean I am genuine. I've seriously never seen him on this bus before, and I take this bus a lot. It's the only bus that goes from the city to the suburbs, Or the only one that goes from Jungkook's apartment To mine.

"Oh well, you know... There's this awesome girl that just has been ignoring me for two days now, I was going to check up on her," He tells me, and then I'm sat there thinking I had a chance with him. But then he gives me this look, eyebrows raised, eyes slightly in a pouty look. is he talking about me? I mean, I haven't used my phone since my fight with Yoongi, so that includes not responding to him.

I point at myself with raised eyebrows, nonverbally asking if he was going to my place. Which he responds to with a small smile followed by a nod of his head, confirming my assumptions.

"Ah well, my phone got partially smashed and, I swear it’s getting worse by the hour... I haven't charged it since, sorry," I apologize. "How'd you even find out where I live anyway?" None of my friends have ever been to my home, Jungkook's first time was today. Taehyung doesn't know Yoongi so it couldn't have been him either... But my thoughts are cut off by his response "Oh! my brother's dating Ashley,"

of course, I know Ashley, she's been to my house plenty of times... I think. I don't know, She's a really good friend of Yoongi's. They've known each other for as long as I've existed. Even after all the years they've been friends, I haven't really gotten to know her. She comes by sometimes, so I only see a glimpse of her. The past couple of years have been pretty quiet, though I see her texts sometimes and I see her Instagram stories.

Though whenever I have women's problems, where Yoongi doesn’t know what to do. Hell call her up and ask her for advice, or to come by and handle the situation.

This one time I thought I was having my first period and I just needed pads, he called Ashley to get some and explain to me how they work.

Then this other time my boobs first started coming through and I needed to go bra shopping. Yoongi and I made it to the store but the second he saw a bra, he magically turned into Ashley. Yoongi was nowhere to be found unit later that evening, with a cake to celebrate the birth of my boobs. Yeah, I wish I was lying.

There settles an awkward silence between me and Taehyung, it's late in the evening so we're the only two on the bus besides the driver. the drive doesn't take long, it's about 12 minutes from point A to B.

It's by the time we hit the start of the suburbs that a thought pops into my head. All scenarios flash through my brain if I had stayed home today. Taehyung probably would've stumbled upon Yoongi, I don't want to know how things would've ended then. I know it would be bad but...

I shouldn’t be worrying about this, I don’t forbid him from seeing girls. Ignored their existence even, not that there ever were many girls at the apartment. I’m too scared to even let people in, too bothered by a stupid reputation nobody cares about.

I don’t care if he’s banged some girl he doesn’t know, I don’t care if he’s going to propose to someone next week. Okay well, that’s a stretch. The point is, it doesn’t matter to me what he’s doing with who and where, neither should he.

Now it's only two stops away from my destination and I'm freaking out. "Uhm Taehyung, I really don't mean to be rude but.. you have to get off," which obviously leaves him confused, I’d be too if this random person from school told me to ‘get off’ for no valid given reason.

"What? Why? It's late I thought I'd walk you home," Gosh, bless him and his sweet heart.

"Although I'd seriously love for you to walk me home, Yoongi is going to kill the both of us if he sees us together, so please do me a favour and get off. I promise I'll make it up to you," I plead. He must see how panicked I look, cause his expression softens and he gives in whilst I apologize to him profusely.

He waves it off as an 'I'ts fine' and then goes to stand outside, watching the bus pass by leaving him behind.

I shoot him one last apologetic smile, gosh I feel guilty. The first thing I’ll do when I get home is text him because this is just a shitty thing to do without a proper explanation. He doesn't know Yoongi, he doesn't know how the situation sits, I hope he'll be understanding.

With a big sigh, I try to relieve the stress off of my shoulders, I spot someone in the corner of my eye that looks all too familiar. Walking on the sidewalk past the next bus stop that the bus reaches. I'm so glad I pushed Taehyung off of the bus cause, speaking of the devil, Yoongi is walking home. I quickly press the stop button and run off the bus trying my best to catch up to Yoongi.

"Heyy Yoongelss!," I sound totally fine, not suspicious at all. I probably sound mostly out of breath, from the run over here.

I can see him raise on eyebrow squinting his eyes a little at me. "where have you been!!," I try my best to show my interest in him, getting all spotlights to go his way.

"Uhm, I just got back from Seokjin and Namjoon’s place," he explains. Seokjin and Namjoon are his friends from college. Aside from Ashley, I was confused to see he actually has friends.

Ashley was our childhood neighbour, she's always just been here. Not a moment has she ever bothered me. But his other friends? They're dicks. I've only met them very few times, They always make fun of my being Yoongi's little sister, with emphasis on little. It’s unfair really! I’m not even that tiny, they’re just freakishly tall. I'm sure they're nice once you get to know them.

"You hungry?" With all the fights between us these past few days, I feel like we need some quality time. "Sure let's go," He takes the turn towards our street, which has a convenience store on the corner.

Both getting ourselves some noodles and a drink, coincidentally both having the exact same order as we meet at the tables. Yoongi sitting opposite me, he's quiet.. he isn't much of a talker anyway, we both enjoy our quiet times. but I came here to talk so...

"Yoongi, I'm sorry if I disappointed you..," Deep down I know I didn't do anything wrong, he's the one who got mad in the first place. All I ever do is care, mentally and physically. I care so much for him, all I ever do is for his convenience.

"No, I should apologize," Is he, serious? I don't think I've ever heard him apologize before, even if he should've, he finds it difficult to admit his faults. "I shouldn't have been so harsh on you.." he starts. "It's just.." He sighs deeply, he is having a hard time saying whatever he's about to. It must've been bothering him a lot.

"Nayun.. Before you were born, Dad was living at home like.. consistently. And he wasn’t as bad as a father as what you know him as. When you think of Dad you just think of this abusive asshole who left us and probably some really traumatic things. When I think of Dad… I see my Dad, the guy who used to play basketball with me, take me to school, and read me stories to bed until mom got pregnant with a girl... and when I see you with guys, all I can see is what dad turned into and how these guys could too,"

Wow, he's never opened up this much. I never knew Dad wasn’t like that before I was born, I guess it explains a lot. But still, this doesn’t justify the way he’s been acting, for like ever.

I don’t really know what I should do with this information, I don’t know if I’m better off knowing it or not. All these years Dad was just like that because he was Dad, and now I feel responsible for it. I’m not the only one who suffered from his abuse, Yoongi did too. If I wasn’t born, maybe Yoongi would’ve had a proper dad.

But then also, why did Dad didn’t like me? Why does he resent me? He couldn’t just pretend I was a guy, yes sure it would’ve fucked me up in different ways, but I think I prefer that over the things he’s done instead.

Instead, I wound up with an evil baggage of daddy issues, the version that includes the sexualized version.

“I can handle myself Yoongi,” I look down at my noodles, chopsticks ready to grab some. Instead, I bite down on my lip and pick at the separate strings of noodles, suddenly my appetite has completely gone out the window.

I was ready to sit down with Yoongi and have a heartfelt conversation, make up even. It’s every time that Dad gets mentioned, it runs my mood entirely. I hate that man from the bottom of my heart. I hate him so much, each time he leaves I hope he’ll never come back. It even gets so fucked up that sometimes I dream of police coming by the house, telling us the ‘bad news’ of him being in an accident. And I hate that I still care so much, I still love him deep down.

“How do you know?.. huh? How do you know that this guy that you’ve been seeing that's just oh-so-perfect. Doesn’t just turn his back on you and turns into Dad,” His voice raises.

“How do you know that one day you won’t end up with a guy that hits you every day uses you for his needs, and doesn’t give a fuck about your feelings on it,”

“How do you know he won’t just go at it without checking up on you asking you for a fucking green light knows when to keep his hands at home,”

It’s a chapter I put past me a while ago. It wasn’t even a heavily reoccurring event anyway, I’ve moved on that’s the point. Yoongi and I both went through tough stuff with him, I know he wants to protect me. But all I really need from him is love and support. To get through everything together, but I’m afraid that’ll never go through to him.

“You know how much it hurts me? Looking at you? All I can think of are the sounds from your room and I couldn't do anything, you didn't do anything,” He sounds angry in a way, it’s not said softly or calm, he doesn’t take his time saying what he said no it’s rushed. His words poke right through me, it hurts. How does he think he can just say that, he's being so unreasonable.

And there goes my entire appetite, in with the tears. Great... I don’t like crying like this in front of Yoongi. It’s okay when he’s yelling at me, or smashing things around me, being in a fit of rage. Not when he’s being honest, emotional, and nonviolent. I can’t say his voice gets the memo too.

Yoongi hadn’t bothered keeping his voice on a socially acceptable level, I could see the cashier looking at me with a funny expression that told me he was assuming way too many things from this conversation alone.

What makes it worse is that he doesn’t know how to act, he just sits there staring at his noodles looking all stupid. I don’t want to cry but the tears just keep coming, I don’t make a single sound. I must look stupid along with him, swallowing my tears back as much as possible. But it’s hard, there are far too many to swallow back, frantically wiping away my tears with the sleeve of Jungkook’s hoodie.

I want to get out of here, I just feel out of place. But I just can’t go running to Jungkook every time something bad happens. He shouldn’t be the one who cheers me up and he shouldn’t be the one who has to sit with my feelings.

But he’s also always been there for me, still after everything he tells me he’ll be there for me whenever. So you can call me selfish for this but, I’m going to take his word for it and go over to his place. It’s either that or go home and after this conversation that’s the last thing I want to do.

“I’m sorry,” I sniff back my tears, stabilizing my voice as much as I can. “You can have mine,” I push my bowl of ramen towards him, getting up from my seat and practically barging out of the convenience store.

He looks dumbfounded as I pass by the window he’s sitting at, and he just continues eating his stupid noodles. I try my best not to cry during the bus ride but it somehow just feels so much longer than usual.

After what feels like an eternity, I just stand there, in front of his apartment complex. Trying to muster up the courage to knock on his door.

I’ve calmed down a little, I’m not crying anymore. Though my mind seems to be racing at 100 miles an hour, I’m never this hesitant to go up to Jungkook’s apartment. So whenever I do, it’s a cry for help -to myself that is-. It makes me nervous, cause I feel like a bother to him. He’s made me sure I’m not, so I set it aside the best I can and knock.

There’s a long moment of silence after I knock on his door, is he home? My phone is dead so I won’t be able to text or call him and I don’t have a spare key either so.. oh my god what if he’s in there with someone? Maybe he’s just asleep I mean it is pretty late.

Suddenly everything I’ve set aside comes rushing back to me almost twice as hard as it did before. I panic, I shake my head at the thought of me standing here as if I’m not literally in that situation right now. I really need to get out of here.

In a fit of confusion and regret, I barge back to the elevator, pressing its button which definitely takes longer than usual to work.

But then finally the doors open, ready to step inside eyes glued to the ground.

“Nayun?,” It's a male voice, familiar even, but it's not Jungkook’s or Yoongi’s. And Yoongi is quick off the list cause, he wouldn’t be confused about me being here and I would’ve just known if it were him. I quickly look up from the ground to identify whoever’s speaking to me.

Suddenly my panicked thoughts, have turned into a panic attack. I take a step back, breathing getting more difficult than usual. It’s as if talking about him, has summoned the devil. I can’t think straight anymore, the world suddenly spinning around me. Everything had been feeling like an eternity, but this moment right here is something I’ve never in my life witnessed before.

Not a moment where he walked inside of the living room that had me this shocked, not a moment where there was cash left on the table with a note to another disappointment that he was gone for a weekend that left me this devastated.

What is he even doing here? He has no use in a neighbourhood like this, it’s not the way he works like he’d always tell me. That even though we live in a dump, always shitting at how disgusting we live and never taking action to make the situation better.

“D-Dad? What are you doing here?..” I stutter, barely being able to form proper sentences. My mind is blank for a second, time pauses and all I can think about is him, quickly followed by how disgusting he is and how he still walks around freely and everything just crashes down on me. There’s so much happening at once, I just feel helpless at this point.

He’s about to take another step forward until he’s cut off, making him step back staying put in the elevator.

“Yun, I found it. You don’t have to buy new ones let’s go” a voice says from my left. I look at where the voice is coming from, registering his features. It’s Taehyung again jumping out from behind the corner, right beside the elevator. He doesn’t see my father, nor does he see Taehyung.

There are so many questions going on inside of my mind, but I don’t have any time to act on them. Telling Taehyung it’s ‘great’ even though there’s nothing about today that is ‘great’ before I walk with him not thinking twice about whether I should tell my Dad goodbye or not. Or even hear him out.

I follow Taehyung up one more floor, into his apartment. Quite literally shaking from what just happened, and he tried to take care of me so well. He sits me down on his couch, takes my shoes off, and gets me a glass of water. Tells me to breathe in and out, tells me everything is going to be okay.

Something in me tells me he has done this before.

I could ask him one hundred questions right now, give him a thousand explanations, or freak out and run. But the first thing that comes out of my mouth is; “How did you know..?”

“I didn’t,”

“Let me explain,” he gestures for me to sit down on his couch.

He explained to me how he was walking up the stairwell and saw me walking through the hall, great time to have glass doors. He was going to call out for me until he heard me and my dad. Assuming the panic in my voice wasn’t something positive and felt like I just needed to get out of there.

“I hope it wasn’t the wrong move to make,” he asks looking somewhat apologetic, just in case.

“No, no you were great. I think with the bus and everything I owe you an explanation as well” I saw looking down at my hands fiddling with the hem of my sleeve.

I try to give him a light explanation, which is difficult since the story has so much to it. Sparing him the details of my childhood by just telling him he’s a very bad Dad, that I hadn’t seen for an entire year. That Jungkook lives downstairs and that, that’s why I was there in the first place.

“Oh and about the bus... You know Yoongi? Ashley’s friend?” I ask him, to which he nods in agreeance.

“Yeah well, that's the brother I was talking about, and.. we just had a big fight about how he doesn’t let me date and such,”

I can hear him sucking in his breath through his teeth at the mention of Yoongi being my brother, I guess his name has come across some time.

“I swear he can be really nice…” he chuckles at that, hand scratching the nape of his neck.

He walks over to his fridge holding up a Coke, looking at me with a questioning look to see if I want one as well, then hands it to me.

“So you live here?” I ask him.

“Ah no, my sister just moved here recently,” That makes sense, I’ve never seen him here before and I’ve been in the building plenty of times.

“She’s out for the weekend, I promised to watch her cat,”

My face immediately switches into a pouty face with big, big puppy eyes. “You have a cat? I love cats!”

He nods excitedly before he starts calling out pet names, making squeaky noises with his mouth to lure the cat to him.

He disappears into the hall for a second before his head peaks through the open doorway “Found her!” I immediately stand up walking towards him, into a bedroom.

I don’t see a cat at first, but upon better inspection, there’s a little tiny bump under the perfectly made-up duvet. I fold over the covers to reveal the cutest little cat I’ve ever seen. Okay well not the cutest, coco will always be no.1.

It’s a really small fluffy cat, she must still be a kitten. “What’s her name?” I ask between my awh’s and baby talks to the cat. I look over my shoulder to see him leaning against the doorframe.

“Bada, because of her eyes” I look back at the cat, she has have most crystal blue eyes, or, I guess ocean blue.

I lie down on the bed petting the cat's head before she rolls around exposing her belly, and stretching her little arms and legs out. I think I might melt from cuteness overload

“Aren’t you the cutest little thing,” I must sound so stupid, but it’s a cat! I can’t help it.

“Not to me she isn’t,” Taehyung says from behind me. “I’m taking you’re not a big cat person?”

Couldn’t be me. don’t get me wrong I like dogs, but you actually need to walk them and stuff. I like affectionate cats that are a little lazy, you can just cuddle with them and their playtime can be done from the couch.

“I actually own a dog, his name is Yeontan he’s like really cute and fluffy,” he tells me walking over to the edge of the bed with his phone out and showing me a picture of his dog.

I got to give it to him, he is cute.. most small dogs look like little rats but if they’re fluffy they’re a lot cuter.

“Okay, I guess he’s cute but.. over a cat?” I pick up Bada and hold her up next to my face, her arm right under my chin as I look at Taehyung with a pouty face.

Talking like a little kid “How could you have me?.. I don’t bite you’re just biased,” which makes him chuckle. He looks gorgeous, his laugh is so adorable and cute it instantly makes me smile along with him. Just looking at each other for a few seconds, smiling like two idiots.

“Uhm do you have a charger perhaps? I should probably bring my phone back from the dead,” I ask breaking our little stare-down. Which leads us back to the living room.

He searches for a charger because it’s not his house, it gives me a moment to inspect the room a little bit. I see a picture of Taehyung and what I assume must be his sister, stood on the TV stand.

She’s really pretty, she looks like Taehyung. Their family must be blessed with good genes. His sister has light brown hair and a bright smile so big her eyes are closed shut, a peace sign next to her cheek as Taehyung stands next to her poking out next to her, holding two fingers behind her head to imitate bunny ears.

Next to it is a smaller picture frame that holds a picture of what I’m guessing is Taehyung his sister and his little brother as kids, I can’t help but smile at it as I pick it up.

“Oh gosh that is so embarrassing, put that down,” he laughs seeing what I’m holding when he walks up to me, handing me a charger.

“Noo! You look cute,” I smile looking up at him over my shoulder, I feel like I’m about to faint as he looks back at me. He’s close, so close.

His hair falls over his forehead, lightly touching his right eyebrow. not a pimple or a pore to be seen, but the slightest little stubble peeks through on the bottom of his chin. his deep brown eyes have a subtle glint in them, I swear it's shaped like a four-pointed star.

My eyes falter down to his lips and I can see him inching closer, ever so slowly. Until I break it, clearing my throat and taking the charger from his hand. I mean I’d kill to kiss those gorgeous lips, but not today. I’ve been on such an emotional rollercoaster it just feels wrong to let those take over pleasure.

"Where's the outlet?" he takes a step back clearing his throat as well, his eyes scanning the room. "Yeah there," purposely not looking at each other. I walk in the direction he pointed at plugging in my phone, before sitting down on the couch.

And now it's back to awkward silence again. I slide my hands across my thighs and knees, lips forming in a tight line. He doesn't say anything either, sitting down on the couch next to me leaving more than enough space between us.

"You wanna watch a movie? Or should I get you home?" He asks me, so so polite, but going home? yeah hell no, that's not happening today. I think I'm going to text Jungkook when my phone charges to see if he's home and then sleep over at his place.

so movie time it is, it's great to spend some quality time with Taehyung. "Yeah no a movie sounds good" I patiently watch him as he turns the TV on navigating to Netflix.

"Fall?" he suggests. "hmn no," he continues scrolling. "Oh! Perks of Being a Wallflower?" I suggest. but he declines and says he didn't like it that much. "Me before you?" he looks at me, at this pace it'll be a continuous loop of this and that. but I've seen it already, and to be honest I don't want to watch it again.

"OH! She's the man! I love that movie!" I see the hesitant look on his face, but something in him makes him go with it.

I tuck my knees up on the couch, inching a tiny bit closer to Taehyung. I don't know what happened but by the end of the movie I was cuddled up into his arms, I heard him laugh during the movie. he turned the TV off, taking his arm off of me.

"Did you like it?" I look at him hopefully, awaiting his approval of the movie. if he doesn't like it I don't know what I'll do. "It was.. good! I liked it," he smiles. this is one of the movies in my top 10 list, god top 5 even! And he thinks it's good? he liked it? This is a great movie, an awesome movie.

I stare at him in awe, unbelievable that he just said that. I shake my head in disagreement, though he picks it up the right way laughing along with me.

"Thank you for having me over," I thanked him, it was late already when I got here. after a whole movie, I really should get going.

I thank him once more unplugging my phone from the charger seeing it's nearly 2.30 in the morning. He walks me out, my eyes linger across his features once more as I stand outside of the door. It takes everything in me not to kiss him right on the spot. "I'll text you," I smile widely at him.

I don't text Jungkook I'm only one floor above him, and I'll pass his door anyway. I make my way downstairs knocking on his door for the second time this night. He's probably still awake, playing overwatch or something.

And the door opens this time. But I don't see Jungkook, no. Mingyu opens the door ever so cheerfully, welcoming me in without a doubt. "Hey, Mingyu! Jungkook home?"

"Sorry Yun, I don't think he’ll be home tonight but you're free to take his room," that’s embarrassing. Mingyu knows absolutely nothing about me, and yet he just knows I need a place to sleep. "Thanks. I’ll... text him,"

His room is neat, bed made perfectly. I hold my phone up to my ear. Ringing, once, twice, trice, like four hundred more times I don't know. it feels like an eternity until it goes to voicemail, which leaves me with a text.

no matter how close Jungkook and I are, it's still weird to sleep in his bed without him knowing.

Hey Koo, I'm staying over at yours just so you know.

What a rough night, I went from crying at home to being emotionally rescued by Jungkook. Then going home meeting Taehyung on the bus, just to rudely push him off of it. Meeting up with Yoongi five seconds later, fighting once again, getting back to Jungkook’s apartment where I found my Dad after a whole year to once again be rescued by Taehyung this time. Followed up by Mingyu letting me into Jungkook's apartment and now we're here.

I don’t think it's a crime to say that I'm tired, and I just want to sleep the night away. I'm actually doing fairly well for the rollercoaster I've been on, Taehyung really helped me out tonight.

I scavage around Jungkook’s dresser to find a black shirt, placing it on the bed. taking my makeup off in the bathroom, Jungkook was right this morning. I really do look terrible. Gosh, I went to Taehyung's like this? I hope he didn't wear his contacts.

Back in Jungkook’s room, in his shirt that's far too big on me. I settle down in his bed, off to fucking, unicorns, and elves or something. I'm going to dream so, so well, Jungkook's bed is like a cloud in physical form. And before I know it I'm off to dreamland.

at least that's what I think, I sent Jungkook that message 15 minutes ago tops. And he walks in, doesn't even say anything but cuts right to the chase and kisses me with force, hungrily whilst cupping my cheeks.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you all day Yun, you drive me insane," he says between kisses, trailing down my jaw and my neck as I give him more space to mark me even more than he already has.

he moves onto the bed, pushing me further back against his pillows. his lips work me so good I think I’ll get addicted to it soon.

He takes off his shirt, pulling at the hem of mine placing small kisses all over my face. His hands are all over me, massaging my thighs, trailing up over my hips to hold my waist whilst the other one is holding himself up as he hovers over me.

He just knows what to do, gets me so wet so easily. Skip the foreplay, fuck me right now. mainly because this foreplay feels like it's taking forever, I just want him out of his jeans right now.

I move my face away from him, pulling the shirt off that I'd been wearing. The sight of my bare chest is all it takes for him to start unbuckling his belt, his abs on full display, oh lord I love this sight. wish I could marry this sight.

His hair falls in front of his face trickling his nose, gosh he looks so goddamn handsome.

My eyes shoot open and I'm met by the sight of Jungkook's PC setup. What the fuck, did I seriously just have a sex dream about Jungkook?? my best friend? My head shoots to the door as Jungkook walks in, the real one. He peeks his head through to see if I'm asleep or not.

"Jungkook?.." I nearly whisper. He takes this as his queue to come in, dimly turning on the lights. rushing over to my side of the bed, crouching down next to me as I swing my legs over the edge. knees facing his chest, taking my hands in his.

"Are you okay? what happened?" He looks panicked, I feel guilty. he must think something major is going on because I'm staying over. well maybe because I came by at 2.30 in the morning, or a combination of the two.

"Where did you come from? You’re out of breath," Though I feel guilty I can’t help but suck in a deep breath, this stupid dream is making me delusional into thinking I’m attracted to him.

"Yun, You're here at 2 in the morning what's going on"

"I'm fine really," I assure him. I don't know if I want to break down in his arms or pretend like everything is fine. I don’t want to burden him each time with my issues, we barely ever talk about him and his situation.

but he insists no matter how much I hold on to the 'I'm fine act' he doesn't let it pass until I spill everything out.

"Okay.." I sigh letting my shoulders drop, here it goes.

"So... I left your apartment and when I got on the bus, Taehyung was sitting there. I push him off of the bus and at the next stop I meet Yoongi, we go out to eat. he tells me he hell basically never let me date and that I'm the big cause of turning Dad into what I turned into. well, he didn't tell me that exactly but that's what it felt like okay. Anyways, I ran off and came back to your apartment but nobody opens so I went to the elevator where I saw my Dad, I nearly got a panic attack but then Taehyung was there yelling out something about a store and I needed to come back so we go to his apartment upstairs, sorry I mean his sister's apartment that has a really really cute cat by the way a-"

"Yun, Yun," he waves his hands around a little cutting me off. "Your Dad was here? in my building?" he asks, his brows furrowing a little as his expression turns into a combination of complete shock and something that makes me think he isn't processing this properly.

"Yeah, But it's fine! Taehyung and I watched a movie and I actually feel way better right now," that's not a lie, I do feel better. I was shocked at first and yeah I might've had a slight panic attack, but now it just feels numb. I see he's doubting me, eyebrows raised with a questioning look on his face. "Seriously" I assure.

"Alright," he stands up his hands ghosting mine before he walks over to his dresser grabbing the pyjamas that are folded on top of it heading back to his door. "Let me know if you need anything m’kay?"

I nod with a small smile, more like the corner of my lip inching up for a split second. He walks back out, turning the lights off before he shuts the door.

It falls silent. I grab my phone off of the nightstand to check the time. 3.40 am. I should really be going back to sleep. I lay back down on my back, staring at the ceiling waiting to fall asleep again. I close my eyes but all I see are flashbacks of the stupid, stupid dream I had. I shouldn't think about it, nope.

Lasagna, yes I'll make lasagna tomorrow *Jungkook’s abs* no no no. Okay uhm, Karaoke. I should practice my singing. Yeah! That IU song has been going well, I should learn the second verse. Or maybe something with a higher range, I mean certainly the f#5 was harsh on me first but I think I've got it. Maybe I could up it a notch by going for like a G5. I know Sia's chandelier is also *Jungkook* no no no. No!

Maybe something sad? Today was sad! shit, what if Yoongi texted me? I flip my phone over to look at it. 3.50, that took me ten whole minutes to think about? Woah.

I unlock my phone and I see exactly one message. From the group chat, something about Kai and his slutty waist or something, I don't know. But nothing from Yoongi, glad to know my brother cares so much. Who am I kidding I should be glad to be free from him for a second.

He worries about the wrong things, worries about things that aren’t there. Talking to guys is forbidden but walking off in the middle of the night where anything could happen, that’s okay with him? I could’ve been kidnapped countless amounts of times, I guess he’s used to me running off.

Wait, what if Dad went home after he saw me? what if he's there right now? I don’t know what a disaster it could be back at home. I don’t know if when I go home tomorrow I'll stumble upon a murder scene or a trashed house, or a bleeding out Yoongi with a drunk mom and dad in the room or-

I sigh deeply, this is too stressful for me to think about at the moment. Hey well, at least I'm not thinking about Jungkook's big, big strong veiny hands anymore. oh, what is wrong with me?

That's why I decided to get out of his bed and go over to the living room. He's sitting on the couch, TV on. I can see there's a soju bottle on the coffee table unable to tell if it is full, empty, or partially drank.

The back of the couch is facing the bedroom doors, he can't tell I’m here.

"Koo?" I sound quiet but it's still enough to make him turn around and look at me. "I can't sleep" I haven't properly tried but my mind is racing from thought to thought and when I do actually sleep all that I can seemingly think about is Jungkook and his crazy good abs.

he nudges his head for me to come towards him. he adjusts his position to lie down completely on his back, with his neck looking for support on the armrest whilst holding out an arm for me to join him. so I do, lying down on his chest and closing my eyes as I lay down.

His attention stays stuck on the TV, now with a lowered volume. My back is facing the screen anyway, the only thing I pay attention to is the rising and falling of Jungkook’s chest and his heartbeat beating in an exact pattern. That is until I hug his waist and let out a big sigh of relief. It goes from a steady pattern to a moment of nothingness until it switches back to its original pattern.

“Thanks for letting me stay,”

“Anytime,” His hand falls on top of my arm that’s hugging him, the pads of his fingers lightly tracing figures on it.

“Hope I didn’t intrude on your plans,” I look up at him.

“Never,” he smiles.

“I was watching football with Eunwoo, Guesung and Minghao. Mingyu was supposed to be there but he had to pick his girlfriend up from the airport,” he explains.

I hum at that readjusting my head back to its original position, on his chest. “Sorry for giving you a heart attack,”

“Yun,” He moves his hand under my chin lifting it up to look at him. “Promise me that next time you fight with Yoongi, or see your Dad -no matter if something happens or not- You’ll call me,”

“Sure? Yoongi loves arguing,”

“You know what I mean,” he says, taking his hand away from my face. “Promise me,”

“Okay…”

“Say it” He insists, making me smile.

“I promise” Now I can sleep, in peace.

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[rrenzwrld]

secreto de amor VII

chapter 7! read chapter 6 here

“y/n~i need to talk to you.”

“you always need to talk to me. talk to your other friends.”

“don’t get smart with me. i just wanted to remind you about the business trip i’m going on. i leave next wednesday.” jean worked with a company that providing them with relaxing trips out of the country twice a year because they know how taxing the job can be.

“where you going this time?”

“it’s actually a cruise, going to the bahamas. i’ll be gone for two weeks tho, much longer than last time.”

“two weeks??” that caught your attention. you were used to jean and his trips but you’ve never been left alone for two weeks.

“i figured you don’t need a babysitter because you’re 18 but some people will swing by to check on you.”

“you tell—“

“yes i told mom and dad. they’ll come check on you and if you get scared just stay over there.”

“anything else i need to know?”

“nope, think that’s all. love you!” jean closed the door behind him. although it was only tuesday and he had about a week to prepare, it shouldn’t worry him about leaving you. he knew that you were a good kid, you don’t cause trouble , and you’re practically already independent apart from you living with him. so he didn’t know why he was feeling weird about all of this.

later on that day, you called tia to have your daily conversation and some interesting things were brought up.

“you said he said what now?”

“just reposting tweets n shit and relationships, talkin bout some ‘i’ll take my old bitch over a new bitch any day’” the dude in question was your ex you dated for two years until he cheated. he was your first and last boyfriend and luckily you hadn’t lost your virginity to him or else you’d be going mad even now.

“a weirdo for real. remind me why you follow him again?”

she shrugged. “to be nosy. give us something to talk about.”

“valid.”

“your brother still going on the trip thingy?”

“yeah, why?”

“just asking. don’t he always go around the same time?”

“yeah but i didn’t think you were paying attention. he’s gonna be gone for two weeks this time.”

“two weeks?? oh you’ll be dead before he gets back.”

“don’t say that! i can handle myself fine for two weeks.”

“you don’t even sound like you believe yourself. but look at the bright side,” you rolled your eyes as you already knew what would come next. “connie can come over without any interruptions and he’ll stay and keep you company, and then~” tia started clapping her hands and moaning.

you laughed. “i fucking hate you. i don’t even think about him like that, he 22.”

“so? older dick be the best dick.”

“i’m gonna hang up on you.”

“it’s okay if you wanna hang up on me to call your man.”

“i don’t have a man.”

“sure..”

next wednesday rolled around quicker than you thought and it didn’t seem real to you up until you saw your brother all packed up in suit and tie.

“why you dressed up? i thought you were going on the trip to relax.”

“there’s a meeting right before we board the plane.” you nodded as you watched your brother put on his dress shoes. “are you sure you’ll be okay? you’ll call or text if you need anything right?”

“yes, i’ll be okay. just have fun.”

“i already called everyone to let them know so some one would be there everyday to check on you. and don’t throw any parties or anything while i’m gone.”

“i’ll try not to.” you joked. but he knew you weren’t like that. the most you’d probably do is have tia sleep over or something and just the two of you do stupid shit in the comfort of your own home.

“well,” he started as you helped him load the last of his things in his car. “i love you, i’ll be back in two weeks. i’ll call and text everyday, just don’t die on me.” he laughed while he pulled you into a tight embrace

“i won’t die, promise.”

after the both of you struggled to let go, you bid him a formal farewell as you watched him back out the parking lot, “love you too, be safe!”

after all that, it was weird having the place to yourself but you’d just operate how you would normally do. the only difference was that jean wasn’t present and you had to get used to that. but as he said, over the two weeks, people came to check on you every day.

you had visits from your older stepbrother elliot snd his girlfriend, your mom, your stepdad, and even your biological dad who really just started speaking to you after your mom remarried. but family wasn’t the only people who were there for you. you had visits from sasha who you’d hang out with from time to time, and sleepovers with your friend tia. but one person you really should’ve saw coming was connie. but you didn’t know how you felt just yet.

“y/n~” you heard connie call out to you from your room but he stopped in the doorway when he made it. “your brother told me to—“

“check up on me?”

“yeah, but.. a little more than that.”

“what?”

“he gave me a key, see?” he held it up proudly but you were shocked and maybe a bit upset.

“when did he give you a key? and why?” connie walked into your room and sat at the chair by your desk.

“he wants me to check on you

everyday—“

“people do that already.”

“yeah but he wants me to check on you everyday.. for multiple times a day.”

“so i don’t have a choice.. but to see you everyday?”

“multiple times a day, yes.” he smiles. “but that makes it easier for us to get to know each other.”

“don’t you have things to do? like work or..?”

“yeah but i’ll just come here after.” you rolled your eyes. although jean suspected that connie was trying something with you, he still trusted connie to keep you safe if anything else.

“whatever.” you went back to whatever you were doing.

“right,” connie stood up to walk out the room. “and imma need your number or something.”

“to track me?”

“no, just to keep in contact with you. weirdo.” he laughed. you were the weirdo? you ended up putting your number in his phone and he put his number in yours. “i turned locations on by the way. i’ll be back, bye!” he left before you could even get on him about it.

[banananutsmuthie]

The Beginner's Guide to Great-Looking Abs in Just 10 Minutes

Idol(s): Wendy [Red Velvet]

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

A/N: A quick writing experiment for an idea I had. This will be different from what you're used to but I hope you'll give it a chance. Wanted to use Wendy abs pic from the GOT the Beat "Stamp on It" performance but there were no great stills.

“Close the door.”

This is how it starts. Notice Wendy’s choice of words here. She’s left the door open to interpretation. Now, you have two choices: you can either lock the door—which is probably what Wendy meant when she said to “close” it—or, you can take her words at face value and merely close the door like she asked.

Leave the door unlocked.

Give any passersby the opportunity to walk in on whatever lewd things Wendy wants to do in the 10 minutes she has before she has to perform. Perhaps this way, she’ll learn to choose her words carefully next time.

After you close the door, Wendy will smile. “Well? I haven’t got all day.”

She’ll be sitting on the couch. Walk toward her, but not too fast! You don’t want to seem too eager. This version of Wendy only works when she’s the needy one. Give her any reason to think you’re the one that needs her and you’ll never hear from her again.

There are rules, you see, prerequisites established by Wendy for this thing between you and her to work out. First, she lets you call her whatever you want. Call her Wendy, call her your cumbucket, call her a slut (she particularly likes that one), but under no circumstance shall you claim her as yours. She is not your baby, your lover, your jagi. You are not her boyfriend. This is just sex. Because when you get caught (and you will), the first newspaper to break the story will claim Wendy is “dating”. Wendy will only speak the truth—she will say she is not dating to free herself from the backlash she will inevitably receive and place the blame on the newspaper for reporting fake news. For her, it’s all the fun without the consequences.

The second rule—the fun rule—is “never the same place twice”. This is just sex for her, and because it’s just sex, she will want to do it everywhere and anywhere. Seulgi’s room, the recording studio, in some dark alley, it doesn’t matter: when she texts you the time and place, she expects you to drop everything for her, no questions asked. Wendy enjoys the thrill. She wants to get caught. This is why you leave the door unlocked in the first place.

Now that you’re refreshed on the rules, you’re ready to begin.

Get right up to her where she’s sitting on the couch. Gently part her legs if you have to. Slap her hand away when she greedily tries to unzip your pants. She will play along when you tell her, “You had all day to text me, and you only decide right before you have to perform to call me here? Not a lot of time to do anything, Wendy. This is going to cost you.”

“Name your price,” Wendy will say.

There are rules to negotiation, just like there are rules for sex with Wendy. Ask for something absurd, something she’ll never agree to. Set the bar high so that what you get is closer to what you wanted to begin with. “Threesome later this week. You and one of your members. I don’t care which one.”

Wendy will scoff and present a counter offer: “Eat me out now and I’ll let you cum in me before our next performance and let that load soak through my safety shorts on stage.”

As tempting as that sounds, there will be no immediate satisfaction for you should you accept. Make one last offer.

“Blowjob with a blast to your face. Right now. Maybe I’ll play with your tits if you’re good. Final offer. I’m a very busy man, y’know. I’ve got better things to do.” Make it sting. There probably won’t be many things above “sex with Wendy” on your list, but you need to make Wendy believe she’s not that important—this is key.

She will complain about her makeup, how there won’t be time to redo it after you’ve ruined it, or her hair, how she spent the last couple hours getting it done. Tell her how it’s not your problem and walk toward the door. Wendy will curse, but she will finally agree because this is why she came running to you in the first place: no other man can sexually satisfy her the way that you do, so she’ll take whatever sex she can get, even if she’s not the one being pleasured.

“Fine. Handjob with a little tongue and you can cum on my abs,” she’ll say.

Turn back around, as you should always do. “Well, you better hurry then, princess. You’ve only got eight minutes left before you have to perform.”

She’ll be reaching for that zipper, but she’s a clumsy little thing, is used to handling bigger meaningful objects in her hand like a microphone, or your cock. Help her with the button, but watch as she finally figures out your skinny fit jeans and slides it down your legs.

Wendy will start to stroke, trying to get you hard for her. Let her. Undoubtedly, she will be in a hurry since she’ll have 7 minutes before she is called to the stage. It’ll feel great between her two skillful hands, but she’ll use one to start, claiming it’ll tire her arm, and she needs that arm to hold her mic up to her face in 6 minutes and 45 seconds.

“Maybe if you use your mouth, honey,” you’ll say.

Take your hand. Pinch Wendy’s chin between your thumb and index finger. Tilt her head upward so you can see the look in her eyes, determined, lustful, capable.

“You promised me a little tongue action, where’s that tongue?”

She’ll grimace. “One hand should be enough,” she’ll try to reason, but you know what it takes to get you off.

“Now. Or I walk,” you’ll say, firm and threatening, so that she understands the gravity of what’s at stake. It shouldn’t take more than that. Hold in your excitement when Wendy leans forward, parting her lips enough to stick that tongue on your tip.

Encourage her. “That’s it, right there.”

Guide her, show her where you want that tongue to be used. Bring her forward. She will try to sidestep your cock from entering her mouth, will run that tongue down the side of your shaft and make your member nice and wet. That’s okay! Make her lick your balls while she’s there, watch your cock twitch in Wendy’s grasp.

Notice how her lips have yet to touch any part of your cock. This is intentional. Look at those luscious lips glazed in gloss. She can’t afford to have them ruined by slurping up some dick just before a performance. Everyone will know then. This is why she settled on a handjob with a cum shot on the only part of her body that’s exposed in an outfit that would look better on the floor. Let her be. You’re a gentleman in that regard. If she drools from that open mouth tongue action she’s still doing on you, put your hand out underneath her chin to catch her saliva so it doesn’t drip onto her pants.

There will be a knock at the door sooner or later. “Five minutes, miss Wendy!”

This is why leaving the door unlocked is important, for times like these. Wendy will tense up, her hand on your cock tightening its grip out of surprise. What she won’t know is that the stagehand could walk in on her stroking and licking your cock right now. Imagine the look on her face when he does.

But he won’t. People in this town are too nice.

“Coming!” she’ll say, and you’ll reply with something stupid like, “Hey, that’s my line!” Wendy will roll her eyes and tell you to quiet down, but ultimately will do three things.

First, she’ll stroke faster out of necessity. This is no longer a “want” but a “need”. She needs you to cum so she can get on stage. Second, she’ll finally add that free hand to your shaft, gripping you the same way a baseball player would grip a bat. Lastly, she’ll lick your tip, just a little, starting with the underside of your cockhead, swirling around that sensitive area, and finishing with a little flourish at the tip, all without breaking eye contact.

Compliment her again, then remind her of what she promised. “So fucking hot, Wendy. But you know what happens next, right?”

She won’t need much more of a reminder than that. Apply some pressure with a pushing motion to her shoulder, just enough for her to take the hint. She will fall backfirst onto the couch.

Straddle her.

Watch as her eyes flicker as she lets out a moan when you slip your fingers between her legs, in that thigh gap, rubbing, feeling the heat radiating from Wendy's pussy even with her pants still on.

Remind her for next time: “This tight little kitty could’ve been enjoying some action right now if her owner didn’t call the lion tamer so late.” She’ll be too lost in ecstasy from your touch, and too determined with your cock to notice, but that’s okay, too.

That’ll be enough pleasure for Wendy’s pussy this time. Any more than that and she’ll be too lost in her own little world to give a fuck about her performance, the one on stage later and the one on your cock currently.

By now, Wendy will have done a good enough job to get your cock rock hard. Reward her for it. Reach underneath her top with both hands, carefully lift it up off her arms, and let it rest as a useless necklace around her neck. This way, you don’t mess up her hair by pulling it up over her head, and she won’t need to put it back on when you’re done. More importantly, it now gives you a buffer when you overshoot Wendy’s abs and cum on her tits. Not only will it be a great view, but it will also keep her outfit clean.

You should now be staring at a raw, desperate, topless Wendy. Enjoy the view. Not many people get to watch an idol giving them a handjob with such fervor underneath them. Grasp at those lovely little breasts with both hands while she strokes you. She deserves that much, at least. Watch as the muscles in her biceps flex and extend with each jerk of your cock in her tiny hands. Feel it in her soft breasts, how they jiggle lightly in your grasp.

You should feel a tingling sensation, cock throbbing, almost there, almost ready to dump your load all over Wendy. Tell her. “I’m almost there Wendy, just a little more.” She might look at the clock on the wall for a quick check, but she’ll definitely stroke faster, grip tighter, maybe even throw out some encouragement of her own to move you along.

Reward her again for being so skilled with her hands: play with Wendy’s perfect burnt-almond colored nipples. Titillate her tits. Hear her moans when you pinch those little nubs that will be getting hard with arousal. Feel her abs clench underneath you, every curve and crevice throbbing against the underside of your balls. This will encourage her to stroke faster until you hit your breaking point.

Give her a sign that you’re about to cum so she can prepare for it. You’re a gentleman, after all. It can be as subtle as tightening your straddle against her hips, or as blatant as moaning out, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” If you’re feeling extra frisky, you may even do both.

“Right here,” she will remind you, taking one hand off your shaft to caress her hard-earned abs, showing you exactly where she wants it. You must be careful to cum only where she instructs you to cum, or there may be no next time.

Quicken your breathing. Make sure Wendy doesn’t let go of your cock. Watch as her continued stroking results in blasting her stomach with globs of your cum. Groan if you'd like, she'll consider it as positive feedback. If she’s done a great job, you may notice cum shooting as far as her tits, which isn’t exactly her abs like she directed, but this is why you pull her top off her chest.

Unmount her when she’s drained you completely and admire the work. You are the paint, she is the artist and the canvas. There will be aqueducts of white filling in the crevices of her abs, gutters of cum flowing down her sides and letting the excess drip onto the couch.

She will not be able to get up without the risk of your cum sliding down her stomach and onto her pants. So because you're a gentleman, you’ll hand her a towel so that she can wipe herself off. She’ll get most of it, enough to finally sit up and slip back into her top. If you’ve timed it right, she should have no more than a minute to spare.

“You’re welcome,” you’ll say.

Wendy will be the first to leave her dressing room. “I’ll text you,” she’ll say. Wendy will be too much in a hurry to care that there are still shiny remnants of your cum shimmering on her abdomen. This is fine. If she’s lucky, she can play it off as oil, an “artistic choice”, should anyone ask. “Sex sells in this industry,” she’ll say.

Stay behind, count to thirty. You want to make sure there is enough of an interval after Wendy leaves to avoid any suspicion from anyone backstage that you were just with her. Once you reach thirty, leave the room, close the door, and find your way back to your car.

You may run into someone in the hallway. It could be BoA’s boyfriend who came to support her for the comeback. You shouldn’t say hi, but be courteous if he initiates contact. Worst case scenario, he will ask, “Was Wendy good?”

“What’s it to you,” you’ll reply, and he’ll go on about a dream he had one drunken night where he fucked every member of Red Velvet in a Cinderella-like fairytale. He’ll tell you all about this vivid experience with Wendy, how she was a moaner and liked it in the ass.

Ignore him, it’s best not to dawdle. “It was nice to meet you,” you’ll say. Politely bow and continue to the parking garage.

Once there, you’ll notice Somi just a couple cars over from where you’re parked, leaning against the hood of her car. She’ll be in this amazing outfit that highlights her best features: stockings on her legs that go on for days, a top that shows off that shredded tummy, and the horizontal stripe design that really emphasizes those mouthwatering melons. It’s not a coincidence she is here.

“Hey,” she’ll say. Be polite and greet her back. You’ll try to introduce yourself, but she’ll interrupt you.

“You’re cuter than I thought you’d be,” she’ll say.

Reply back with a compliment. Go ahead and shoot your shot. She’ll appreciate the fresh forwardness that most people would be too scared to treat her with. “And you look more fuckable than I thought you’d be.”

She’ll look appalled, but watch as her indignance turns into a smirk for the appreciation of the wit and brashness, the kind of behavior that gets her pussy wet. This is exactly what she’ll be expecting, after all.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” she’ll say, “Wendy unnie told me about you. I asked her to get you here today so I could see for myself.”

Deny anything she’s accusing you of until it comes straight from her. “What have you heard?”

“I hear you’re somewhat of an idol whisperer. Knows how to pleasure women with no strings attached. Was maybe wondering if I could get a consultation in the backseat of my car.”

You are not yet ready for Somi; she is way too advanced to be covered here. Instead, she will be covered in The Advanced Guide to Great-Looking Abs in Just 10 Minutes. Politely decline but give her your number. Tell her to text another day when you’re not so busy. If she’s really interested, she’ll call.

For now, there are other things on the agenda: places to go, people to see, things to do. Get in your car, check your messages. There will undoubtedly be a text from one Lee Saerom, another client who loves riding that dick harder than Wendy.

Her text will read: Are you coming or not?

Tell her you’re on your way. She will give you her location, tell you how she wants it. She is a much different beast from Wendy: wilder, but more tamable than Somi.

Now, the rules Wendy imposed on your arrangement are a good foundation, but these are basic principles that don’t necessarily apply to women like Saerom and Somi, women more complicated in their wants and needs. This isn’t the end of the journey—there are more rules to follow, more concepts to learn. Once you feel comfortable with the concepts in this module, take a deep breath and pat yourself on the back.

Congratulations, you are now ready for The Intermediate Guide to Great-Looking Abs in Just 10 Minutes.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Just a little quickie I churned out in a couple days which is a much faster turnaround time that most of my fics. Thanks for reading!

[fetishfairytales2]

Under the Bed, Pt. 2 (Story)

I smirked at Connor, "Thank you Daddy.” I said, bowing my head submissively; “I’m your kinky bitch." I turned my attention to Brandi, who was too scared to move now. "You see, cupcake, I asked my friends for a little favor. They've been saving all their used condoms for the past three months, just for you." As Brandi's eyes widened in horror, I disappeared into the closet and returned with two plastic containers, both half full. I explained that they attach to the dildos too. “When the microphones hear me moaning just right, not only will I be getting filled with spunk, but you'll get to experience it too." I laughed as Brandi's gagged face paled at the thought. "Looks like you'll be getting cream pied along with me, whore."

"Remember this, Brandi?" I asked with a grin, rolling eyes, holding up her old VR headset. "You used to love this when you were a big boy. But now that you're a sissy little girl, it's just a useless toy. Thankfully, Daddy helped me fix it to be more suitable for you. Now I can force you to listen to sissy hypnosis, turn on the noise cancelation and sensory deprive you entirely, or turn on the microphones up here and then you would be trapped listening to the sounds of me and Daddy fucking while you’re trapped down there, hot right?”

"That’s not all though! The headset can do one more super special trick," I said with a giggle as I placed it over her eyes. "Watch this," I said slyly as I switched the camera to video mode and crawled onto the bed. "Are you crying? Poor thing, is your little cock aching in its cage?" I teased as I twerked for the camera, giving her a perfect view of my ass in my skimpy g-string under my skirt. "Daddy made it so the camera is always tracking me! So imagine what else you’ll have a front row seat to! You’ll be able to watch me get fucked from so many different angles!”

I crouched down next to Brandi again; "don't worry, Mommy's got something even better for you to watch," I said, flipping a switch and causing Brandi to panic immediately. I let her suffer for a few minutes before turning off the headset completely. "Complete sensory deprivation," I explained to the trembling sissy. "The headphones will block out all noise and the screens will surround you in darkness." I booped her on the nose. "Just imagine how terrible it will be when I lock you down there like that for hours on end... and trust me, I will."

"Mmm," I purred, tapping my finger on my chin and savoring the thought of my final surprise for the little sissy slut. "Oh, can’t forget about this…" I pulled out a silicone mask from the drawer, which was wide enough to hide the wires of her dildo gag, cover her nose and mouth, and had a long hose running out of it. "I know it might be hard to breathe down there for you Brandi, but that's all part of the fun, hmm? This fun little toy here will allow you to fill those little lungs…when I allow it." I smirked as I attached the hose to a small mechanical box. “This hides under the bed too!” I explained with fake excitement. “Anything I put in this box? All of the air you breathe will smell just like it! How exciting is that?”

I held up a very dirty diaper in one hand and two pairs of panties in the other. “This disgusting mess, Brandi,” I said, showing her the full diaper, “this is from you last week. If you're a naughty sissy, you'll be breathing in this stinky diaper all night. “And these,” I giggled, “are my very dirty thongs. I've been wearing each one for an entire week, and quite a few of Daddy’s loads have probably leaked into them by now. I even wore the black pair to my workout earlier today, so they're extra nasty. If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you breathe in my nasty cum filled panties instead!”

"Come on, sweetie, don't you wanna try your new toy?" I asked, sliding the mask over Brandi's face. She was so overwhelmed that the poor sissy didn't even try to fight back. "You're going to watch, hear, and feel every bit of the mind-blowing sex that you can't have anymore!" I chuckled, giving a nod to Connor who lifted Brandi up by her arms and took her to the bed. " Time to get our little princess ready for some playtime," I giggled.

I gave Connor a wicked smile as we saw the bed return to its normal height. "This is gonna be a blast," I giggled playfully while he pulled me in and kissed me passionately, easing me onto the bed. "I want it from the back tonight, be rough baby," I moaned, feeling his hands wander under my skirt. "I want her to feel you inside him, fucking her hard and fast while she watches my face. I need her to know how obsessed I am with your cock." 

“Wow you're twisted, babe,” Connor laughed as he pulled off my dress. He teased me, tracing his finger along the waistband of my thong. “But whatever you want!” He flipped me on my back and grabbed me by the hair, pulling me to my hands and knees. I felt him tug down my thong to my knees. "Get ready, slut," he whispered. Fuck! I was moaning just feeling his hard cock teasing me, rubbing against my 

clit. “Tell me how much you want it bitch.” It was so hot when he treated me this way. I couldn't even decide if I was more turned on by Connor dominating me or by thinking about how Brandi was suffering.

This was the best idea Connor ever had. I got all the dick I could want and poor Brandi was stuck, watching every second up close! Of course, before we sealed her cucky coffin, I made sure to add lots of Brandi’s dirty diapers in with her and taped the messiest one around her face. Connor started deep thrusting into me and I screamed for more. “Harder, daddy! Harder!” Fuck I was horny. I needed every inch of him inside me. The harder Connor fucked me, the more our sissy cuckold would be spitroasted by those massive cocks. “Don’t stop baby please,” I screamed right into the camera; “I want you to fuck me all night.”

The end.

[casualsnickers]

Month of Emmet Quick Write #11

Prompt #11: Photo

Dawn is visiting the two brothers again to spend some time with Ingo while on winter break. She also brought some pictures from Hisui to flip through for a project of hers. Emmet gets invited to see a few of them and he's... mildy concerned, to say the least. Old habits really do die hard.

Read the whole thing below the cut.

“Dawn, these are absolutely abhorrent and you need to delete them.”

“But what’s wrong with them? They’re funny!”

Emmet sat nearby, Eelektross coiled around him as Emmet loaded that week’s dishes into the dishwasher. Emmet could practically hear the ludicrous amount of stress that rolled off of his brother’s voice as both him and his invited guest, Dawn, sat nearby in the living room.

“How were these pictures even taken in the first place? Dawn, the perspectives on these are not in first person.”

“Two of my pokémon have opposable thumbs, uncle.” 

“Why are there pictures of me in here? I don’t remember you ever taking these.”

From over the top of the couch, Dawn peered at Emmet, excitedly waving her phone around as if to beckon him over. “Uncle Emmet! Uncle Emmet!I need you to look at these pictures for me! Pretty please? I took them back in Hisui, and I want to know which ones I should get printed out!”

“Preferably none of them!” Ingo voiced. Ingo then shuddered. “Please don’t show any of these to your guardians- they would sooner have my neck.”

“What’s wrong with the pictures?” Emmet carefully set down what progress he’d made on the dishes, gently accepting Dawn’s phone as the teenager made room on the couch, eagerly snuggling in next to him as she began to flip through the pictures.

“Okay, okay! Look, look, look! Tell me which ones I should print out! I wanna put a few on my wall back home.”

“Very well.” Emmet carefully began to flip through the pictures, the first one making him do a double take. The first picture featured Dawn standing in some massive grassy field, her entire head obscured within a massive Gyarados’s mouth, saliva dripping onto her uniform. She was making a double thumbs-up gesture despite the fact that the Gyarados in question was glaring at her headless torso.

Another picture featured Dawn grinning and standing enthusiastically in front of what looked to be an active volcano pit, a massive, blurry Arcanine-like creature bearing down on top of her with all of its teeth exposed while Dawn was none the wiser, grinning as if taking a picture in front of a tourist hotspot.

Yet another picture, blurrier than the last, featured Dawn squaring up with an utterly massive Ursaring with only her bare hands in the middle of what looked to be a marsh. Another Ursaring laid a few paces away, its body twisted in an odd fashion like a pretzel.

Emmet swallowed, sparing Dawn a bewildered glance. “...I am… deeply concerned. I also have multiple questions.”

“You haven’t even seen the best ones yet!” Dawn complained, completely ignoring the fact that the context of the photos were all but missing. “Keep going through them! There’s like a bajillion of these in my photo gallery and I want to showcase only the best!”

This girl is insane. “Please define what ‘only the best’ means to you.”

Dawn looked thoughtful for a moment. “Hmm. Okay! I know! Pick the ones that surprise you the most. See, you guys are the first to see these pictures. My mom would absolutely murder me if she saw any of these but I mean- bragging rights, so- “

“None of these are ‘bragging rights’, Miss Dawn,” Ingo groaned, his head in his hands.

“I just think it’d be funny if I put up a string of these in my room and then invited my friends over and they saw.”

“A conversation piece?” Emmet questioned.

“...Yeah! That! I’m creating an energy!”

“That energy is fear and probably uneasiness,” Emmet muttered under his breath. He could see the humor in a few of them and Dawn looked to be having fun for the most part. But then, Emmet knew next to nothing about Hisui and how it was for both Dawn and Ingo, having heard nothing about the subject.

Dawn flipped over to another photo that made Emmet pale in the face. The picture was majorly zoomed out but Emmet could easily see Dawn’s blurry silhouette. She was falling head first, her arms and legs stretched out to her sides as a large Braviary darted after her, some kind of massive electrical storm moving in the background.

The next photo was surprisingly of Ingo. Both Ingo and Dawn were sitting calmly in some wooden hut, Emmet recognizing both Ingo’s Gliscor and Alakazam as they sat around a roaring fire. However, the main oddity of the photo was the fact that a massive Froslass with glowing red eyes was positioned directly outside the window with its face pressed up against the glass, reaching in one sleeved hand to quietly unlock the door; something that clearly neither of them had realized when the picture had been taken.

Yet another photo showcased Ingo way up high. So high that he was practically a smudge on the cliff he was scaling. With his bare hands. And no climbing equipment. Emmet recognized Sneasler’s form a ways above Ingo. Dawn was in the forefront facing the camera, pointing exasperatedly at Ingo while shaking her head. Some other boy- one that looked remarkably similar to Dawn- was almost losing it in the forefront with his eyes wide as he yelled something.

Dawn then tugged hard on Emmet’s sleeve. “This one’s my personal favorite.” She clicked over to a wide-shot photo where both her and Ingo were scarcely visible due to some kind of shrapnel explosion taking place between them. Emmet could just barely make out Ingo’s silhouette and signature pose- the one they used to mirror while on the Multi Line- but Dawn was at the forefront, mirroring Ingo’s pose while commanding… a Magikarp. A Magikarp whose expression conveyed an unspeakable amount of resignation and terror.

“What happened? In this photo?” 

“Path of Solitude. Magikarp.” Though Dawn was still smiling, she regarded Ingo coldly, her eyes brimming with venom as she balled her hands into fists. “His idea. To bring a Voltorb to a Splash fight.”

“And you used Self-Destruct?” Emmet blurted out incredulously. “No... Wait.” He grimaced, modeling Dawn’s same expression of irritation as he scooted a centimeter away from his brother. “That is standard Ingo behavior: tank everybody’s pokémon whenever convenient in the worst way possible. No strategy; only brute force.”

Ingo immediately went red in the face, pointedly not meeting either Dawn nor Emmet’s accusatory stares. “We are not getting into the debate about using Earthquake again-”

“It took a hundred tries for me to beat you!” Dawn retorted angrily, reaching across Emmet to grab at Ingo’s coat. “You traumatized Guppy! You made me use so many experience candies! It wasn’t even beneficial to the pokédex!”

They were optional!”

“Cruel and unusual punishment!” Dawn cried, crossing her arms. “Uncle Emmet, I need you to destroy Ingo for me. Teach him a lesson.”

Emmet immediately rolled up his sleeves. “Gladly.”

Ingo held up his hands in surrender. “Could you possibly reconsider?”

Emmet would have dropped the matter. He was a bit tired from taking care of the household chores and his pokémon hadn’t reacted in the slightest at word of a pokémon battle. But that was before Dawn had tugged on his sleeve again, a photo already preloaded, the cutesy charms on her phone jangling as she shoved her phone into Emmet’s awaiting hands.

“I have more,” she spoke slowly, her glare still trained on Ingo as she began flipping through other pictures. “There are several just like these. Uncle Ingo challenged me to a lot of solitude battles. A lot. Good thing I kept them, huh?”

[sequinsmile-x]

Tougher than the Rest

Aaron volunteers to chaperone his daughter's field trip to the zoo. He's handled serial killers and terrorists, he can handle a bunch of first graders for one day...right?

-x-

Hi friends!

This is a birthday fic for lovely, incomparable @jetaime-jespere . You are such a light in my life and I am always so grateful that this fandom brought me you.

I hope you've had a day as lovely as you, and that you enjoy this <3

-x-

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: None. so very fluffy you should probably floss afterwards

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily yawns as she waits for the coffee machine to brew, her eyes fixed on the drip as if she could will it to go faster. 

“Still not getting any sleep, huh?”

She groans, not even turning to look at JJ as she appears next to her in the kitchenette, her hip resting against the counter. 

“No,” Emily grumbles, casting a glance at her friend before she looks at the coffee machine again, “Benny hates sleep all of a sudden,” she fights another yawn, “It feels like this is karma for him being such an easy newborn.”

She’d almost let herself forget about the two-year sleep regression. It felt like a lifetime ago when Violet was that small, the six-year-old now fiercely independent and sure of herself in a way Aaron always said was all her, and memories of her being that small, as dependant as her little brother was, felt faint. Out of reach in a way that made her ache for the days when her babies were still babies. 

Then Benjamin just stopped sleeping. He was exhausted, overtired and furious, unaware that doing the one thing he was fighting would make him feel better. She’d spent the last several nights pacing his bedroom with him in her arms, her lips against his forehead as she slowly, but surely, soothed him to sleep for a few hours until they went through it all again. Aaron offered to take it in shifts, to carry the load equally as they always had, but she’d refused. Benjamin was all about her, the last remnants of separation anxiety she knew she’d one day miss making him impossibly more fussy if Aaron went in to calm him down. It was easier for everyone to do it herself, but she was exhausted - relying on coffee and the knowledge this would only last a few weeks. 

She jumps into action the moment the coffee machine beeps and she pulls it out to pour herself a cup, only remembering her friend is next to her when she clears her throat. She smiles apologetically at JJ before she pours a cup for her too.

“At least he’s cute, right?” JJ says, a knowing smile on her face as Emily chuckles and nods, throwing an extra Splenda in her coffee than usual for good measure. 

“I said that to him at about 2 am,” she says, sipping her coffee and sighing contentedly, “And then again at 5.” 

JJ laughs, but she’s cut off as Aaron walks over to the kitchenette, already talking to his wife before he pours some coffee, “I spoke to Cruz and moved the budget meeting to next week, so I’m good to go to the zoo tomorrow.” 

“The zoo?” JJ asks curiously.

“It’s Vi’s school trip to the zoo tomorrow,” Emily replies, “They asked for parent volunteers.” 

JJ hums, her lips pressed together as she nods and looks back at Aaron, “And you’re going?” 

“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, “Why?” 

“No reason,” JJ replies, clearing her throat to hide a laugh, “Will went on Henry’s trip a couple of weeks ago and he had…fun.” 

Emily knew that was far from the truth. JJ had explained, in detail, how Will had come home from the trip a shell of himself. Exhausted and worn down by a group of kids he swore he could handle, his eyes wide as he told his wife about everything that had happened in the few short hours he was in the zoo. 

Emily loved her husband. He was an amazing man, an incredible father and he was excellent at his job. But he was wildly underprepared for what he was about to walk into. 

He’d never ended up needing to go to any of Jack’s trips as a chaperone. They’d always fallen at a time when he wasn’t around, a case falling at just the wrong time, or other parents simply volunteered first. It was part of why he’d made a point of clearing his schedule for Violet’s trip, a sense of guilt he could never quite shift for not doing the same for his eldest driving him to insist that he’d go this year. 

“I really don’t mind going, honey,” Emily says, trying once again to gently talk him out of it, something she’d tried countless times over the last week or so, “I went last year and it was fine.” She hears JJ barely cover a laugh next to her, her face half covered by her coffee cup, and Emily elbows her, “It was mostly fine.” 

The kids had been a little more out of control than she’d anticipated when she’d volunteered on last year’s school trip, but once she knew what she was dealing with she had it down. It helped that Violet was glued to her side, a little more shy than she was now, still finding her feet at school at the end of her kindergarten year. She was wilder now. More rambunctious. And, according to her 1st grade teacher, always at the centre of whatever mischief was going on in her classroom. 

Emily had a feeling that this year's trip would be more to deal with, and something told her that their little girl would be right in the middle of it all. 

“Em,” Aaron says, picking up his coffee, “It’s a bunch of 1st graders. I’ve interrogated serial killers and negotiated with terrorists,” he starts to walk away, throwing the rest of his sentence over his shoulder, “I can handle it.” 

JJ leans in close the moment he’s out of earshot, speaking low as if they were conspiring, “They are going to eat him alive.” 

Emily hums and nods, lifting her cup of coffee from the counter, “Yes they are.” 

___

Almost immediately a kid drops their water bottle into a pond. 

It’s a boy he’s met a couple of times, a kid called Theo who Violet talked about sometimes after school. Theo bursts into tears the moment he realises his water bottle is missing and Aaron ends up buying him a new, overpriced one from the gift shop, to cheer him up. One of the other parents looks at him like he’s insane and he realises then and there that he’s in way over his head. 

The kids are everywhere. Barely paying attention to what the teachers and other chaperones are saying, and more than once he witnesses Violet whispering to her friends, a sparkle in her eye she’d inherited from Emily, that only ever meant trouble. She smiles widely when she feeds her snack to one of the goats in the petting zoo, her laugh so full of joy and delight as the goat tickles her palm that he can’t even bring himself to chastise her. 

He’s just setting down all of the lunchboxes he’d been carrying, his agreement to carry Violet’s and then Theo’s leading to him carrying half of the classes, when he feels a tiny hand tugging at his sleeve. 

“Daddy,” Violet says, looking up at him through wide eyes, “I need the bathroom.” 

He smiles at her, tugging at one of her braids to straighten it out, frowning in confusion as he pulls a leaf out of it and drops it to the floor, “Okay, Vi. I’ll ask Miss Heather to take-”

“No, Daddy,” she exclaims, sinking into his side, her arms wrapped tight around his arm, “I want you to take me.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll take you,” he says, looking over his shoulder and making sure he’s got the attention of one of the other dads before he heads off so the children he’d been looking after are still being supervised. They are barely a few feet away when he hears a voice from behind him, one of the moms who Emily always insisted had a crush on him, catching up with him and Violet, a group of little girls around her including her daughter Cora.

“We have a few more for the restroom break,” she says, her smile wide as she places his hand on her arm, “I’ll come with you to help.” 

“Thanks, Melissa,” he says, subtly stepping away so her hand slips away from him. He looks down at Violet and smiles, “Come on, Vi. The sooner we go to the bathroom the sooner you can have the lunch Mommy packed for you.” 

“Mommy makes the best lunches!” She exclaims, a skip in her step as she pulls him forward, her endless energy in no way dulled by the long day and the summer heat. 

He hums, covering a smile as he thinks of the candy Emily had hidden underneath Violet’s sandwich, “She really does.” 

“Your wife couldn’t make it today?” Melissa asks, shepherding the gaggle of girls in front of her, the chatter between them full of excitement.

“No, Emily had work,” he replies, “Plus, our youngest is having some trouble sleeping right now and she’s his favourite by a mile.” 

“Benny can’t help that he isn’t sleeping,” Violet chimes in, repeating what they’d said to her and Jack over and over again the last few days, “He’s too small to understand.” 

“Exactly, princess,” he says, smiling as he squeezes her hand. They make it to the restroom and he lets go, stepping forward to push the door open, “I’ll clear the restroom.”

Melissa frowns at him, her eyebrows pinched together curiously, “Why?” 

He suddenly remembers where he is, at a zoo and not at a crime scene where an unsub could jump out of any shadow. He clears his throat and holds the door open, his arm high up enough that all the girls can walk right under it, “Sorry. Force of habit.” 

She smiles, stepping closer as the door closes behind the girls, “Of course, you’re a federal agent.” 

He nods and takes a step back, the back of his neck warm from more than just the sun beating down on it, and he realises that his wife may have been right about Melissa having a crush on him.

“Yes,” he replies, “As is my wife.” 

The conversation abruptly ends when Violet walks out, “Miss Melissa, Cora dropped her Nintendo down the toilet.” 

Melissa sighs and shakes her head as she disappears into the bathroom, muttering as she goes, “I told her not to bring it with her.” 

Aaron feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he digs it out, smiling at the sight of a text from his wife as he types out a response. 

How is it going? 

It’s fine sweetheart. Vi fed one of her snacks to a goat. 

He knows his wife well enough to know when he gets home she’ll see the exhaustion written all over him. That she wouldn’t say I told you so, but that it would be written all over her face, her smile wide as she sympathetically listened about his day. She responds so quickly he doesn’t even have time to lock his phone.

Just make sure she doesn’t try to bring home a snake this year. 

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, a laugh catching in his throat, but before he can type out a response Violet is tugging at his belt loop to get his attention. 

“Daddy? Do cats like lizards?” 

“I don’t know, Princess,” he replies, not looking at her as he types out a response to Emily, “Why?” 

“Because I found one and I thought Sergio might like a friend.” 

He cricks his neck he looks up so quickly, his eyes wide as he looks at the tiny gecko his daughter was inexplicably holding. He sighs and tucks his phone back into his pocket, silently wishing the last few hours of the trip away. 

She is all you sweetheart.

___

To his credit, Aaron holds it together until the kids are in bed. 

He looks exhausted the moment he gets home, his hair ruffled and his black polo shirt somehow stained. It’s a startling contrast to Violet who was practically bouncing off the walls after the fun day she’d had. 

When she sneaks downstairs after putting Benjamin to bed, for what she knows will only be the first time that evening, she finds Aaron lying on the couch, his legs hanging over one of the arms as he stares up at the ceiling. She presses her lips together as she approaches, suppressing a smile she’s sure might split her cheeks open if it gets any wider, and she leans on the back of the couch.

“You okay, honey?” 

He hums, “There were so many of them.” 

She coughs to cover a laugh and rounds the couch, encouraging him to lift his head just enough for her to slip under it. She immediately runs her fingers through his hair as soon as his head is in her lap. 

“Tell me all about those mean 1st graders,” she says, unable to stop herself from laughing when he glares half-heartedly at the fake sympathy in her voice. 

“They just move so fast,” he says, leaning into her touch, “And they don’t listen.” 

She hums and reaches for his hand, linking them together on his abdomen, “It’s chaos,” she says, pressing her thumb into the crease between his eyebrows, “It makes you respect the teachers even more, huh?” 

He chuckles and nods, “Give me interrogating a serial killer any day,” he says, “I think Vi is some kind of ringleader by the way.”

“Oh, she for sure is,” Emily chuckles, “Let’s just hope she uses those skills to be a CEO or something and not a leader of a prison gang.” 

He smiles and lifts their joint hands to his lips, stamping a kiss against her knuckles, “She’d be a great gang leader.” 

She scratches his scalp, “Want to try to get an episode of that reality show you pretend to hate in before Benny wakes up?” 

He nods, kissing her knuckles again, “I’m not moving though,” he says, winking up at her from her lap “This is my favourite place to relax.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and briefly untangles her hand from his hair to reach for the remote, “You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

He hums, “I don’t think you’re the only one who thinks that.” 

“What do you mean?” She asks idly as she flicks through the programmes they’d recorded. 

If he wasn’t so tired, if he didn’t feel so entirely wrung out, he never would have said it, his wife’s jealous streak well known when it came to the other moms at school. When she was pregnant with Benjamin she’d practically mounted him to make a point at one of Jack’s soccer games when she thought a few of the moms were flirting with him. But he’s relaxed, lulled into it by her touch and her warmth, and the safety of their home.

“Melissa was definitely trying to flirt with me earlier. I shut it down though. Told her my wife is a federal agent.”

There’s a beat of silence, a moment of quiet, before she reacts, clearly having only listened to the first part of what he’d said. 

“She was what?” 

-x-

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[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hi Cal!!! How are you I hope you’re having a nice week!

Lol I hope you know you never have to say sorry for not having finished all the asks yet because 1. The amount and speed at which you write is truly impressive and mind blowing and 2. Literally every word you choose to share is a gift whenever it’s published

I absolutely LOVED 🦷 🛏️ and ➰ they were all so so well done and fun to read and just a general delight!

I had fun doing the themed asks last week so I think I’m gonna keep it going. Lol warning the themes are definitely gonna get more and more contrived as time goes on but hey that’s part of the fun right?

First theme is then and now! Stories that connect the very beginning of the show to where everyone’s currently at.

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞 (one sentence and I’m already fascinated by the concept! There are so many ways you could take this one and I can’t wait to see how it goes!)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ (i literally grin at my screen like an idiot every time I read about how happy and in love they are in this story! And I’m so pumped to meet the next Buddie kid! You already got me to fall in love with Violet and Nico so I can’t wait for the next one!)

- PCA <3

HI PCA!

Thank you!!!!! You are so so kind as always! I'm glad you liked the fics <3

Love this theme!

30 for 🪞 (thank you!!!! I'm excited to share my vision):

---

"Yes, Dove is a great kid. Peculiar sometimes, but sweet and smart. The problem is, with the rising costs of living and raising a family, fewer people are likely to adopt a child with pre-existing health conditions who is already six. But, we’re in Los Angeles. Maybe some wealthy family will take interest.”

Her tone when she says this last part isn’t confident. Crap. That’s not good. 

“So someone could ask to adopt her specifically?” Buck asks. 

“In theory,” Angie answers. “It’s a bit of a process.” 

“Right, yeah. My friends are in the middle of it actually.” Buck explains. “I hope Dove finds a family.”

“Yeah, me too. She deserves one.” 

When they end the call, Buck is all the more determined to solve this problem for Dove. 

iii.

He starts with Maddie and Chim. 

It’s not a hard decision. Maybe it would be harder under different circumstances. 

The person he thinks of first when he thinks of the ideal parent is Eddie. But obviously he’s not going to go there with this. Not the time. Like at all. Hen and Karen obviously would have been the perfect choice as far as taking in a foster kid with specific needs. But that’s no longer an option. Maddie and Chim have their foster license, though. And they’re good people! Chim was just as involved in saving Dove! They’ll want to help her. 

---

66 for ⚡️ (I am very excited to introduce them!):

---

All this to say, by the time they’re on one of their final trips, and the back of Eddie’s truck bed is loaded with stuff, Buck is tired. He’s sore from lifting, would very much like to get off his feet, and relax with a cool beer. But this is moving. Moving sucks. That’s a universal human experience. So Buck doesn’t complain. It’s only when he’s done securing the truck bed and walks back into the house for what is surely one of the last times, and calls out for Chris, who was gathering the last of his things from his former bedroom, that he begins to allow his fatigue to turn into frustration. 

Because Chris does not answer. 

Ten seconds pass. Twenty. Christopher doesn’t respond. 

“CHRIS!” Buck calls again. He figures Chris just has his headphones on. “Time to go, buddy!”

Again, nothing. 

Sighing, Buck tromps down the hallway towards Christopher’s room. The door is shut. Buck knocks on it.

“Chris?” He asks. 

“I don’t want to go yet!” Chris shouts from the other side. 

Buck, who could probably fall asleep if his head so much as touches a pillow, physically pouts at this. He wants to go back to the new house, where their mattress has been left on the floor of the bedroom while they set everything up, and power down like a house-moving robot that needs to recharge. 

“Uh, why not?” Buck asks. 

“Because this is my room and I don’t want to leave it!” 

Ah. Okay. 

Well, that’s interesting. Considering how he’d been excited about a house with a bigger bedroom. And not having to share a bathroom with Eddie and Buck. Literally, two days ago he was going on and on about how excited he was. So what gives?

“Can I come in?” 

“No,” Chris says. “I want to be alone right now.” 

Well… What the hell is Buck supposed to do with this right now?

He checks the time on his phone and tries not to groan. 

“Okay, Chris. I can give you ten minutes and then we need to get going, okay?”

“No! I don’t want to go in ten minutes. I want to stay here.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “Bud, there’s no furniture in there and there’s no food in this house. We’ve got to go home event-”

“THIS IS HOME! I like it here, just the three of us.” 

“It’ll just be the three of us at the new house, too. Where your room is bigger, remember that?” Buck tries. 

“Yeah, until you have another kid!” Chris replies accusingly.

Fuck. 

Buck really wishes Eddie was here for this. 

They haven’t actually said to him that they’re having another kid. They were going to wait until there was a more concrete plan. Not the nebulous idea of a kid, someday. Though Buck supposes it’s a bit less nebulous now that they’ve gone as far as choosing a name. 

“Alright,” Buck says. “I’m coming in.”

[interestinglittlerelationship]

We Should Kiss Like Real People Do

It’s finally time! This was so much fun! @jatpfebfanfest

This is for @princessmuk

“Wait, wait, wait, explain this to me again?” Julie says, tilting her head at him in confusion.

“Aragagh,” Alex groans, “I’ve explained it twice already,” he tilts his head at her, “Shouldn’t you know all about this, already? Willie is basically your brother.”  

Julie flings herself down next to him, “I know about the stupid family reunion thing, yeah, but why are you going?”

“Because Willie doesn’t want to go alone,” Alex supplies.

“Right, but…” and then she seems to stop herself, “You know what? Never mind. So, Willie asked you to be his fake boyfriend, and you said yes?”

Alex face plants into Julie’s pile of pillows, “Yes,” he mutters. This does nothing to block out the sound of Julie’s giggles, “I hate you,” he adds, rolling over and hugging a pillow to his chest.

After a moment he feels Julie’s arm press up against his side, “I’m sorry, Lexi,” she says seriously, “this is just a situation so ridiculous only you could have managed to end up in it.”

“Thanks, that just make me feel loads better.” 

Julie sighs, “It’s really going to be okay, Alex.”

“You think? Because I think I’m gonna get my heart broken.”

“I’m fairly confident that’s not going to happen, besides you already said yes,” she points out.

“I know,” he whispers.

“So, what are you going to do?”

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? There’s nothing he can do. Willie is his best friend and he needs help. Alex has to do this even if it destroys him, “I’m going to be Willie’s fake boyfriend.”

The time of his demise is delayed slightly by the fact this “favor” Willie asked him for is actually a week away. For someone with a normally functioning brain that might be a good thing, but Alex is far too anxious, and simply comes up with ten new ways it could go horribly wrong with each passing day.

His friends are unsurprisingly the opposite of helpful. Bobby straight up laughs in his face when he finds out, pats him on the shoulder, and says, “Good luck with that.” Reggie gets really excited and insists that this is the start of Alex’s very own rom-com, and then goes on a long-winded tangent about movies where the two main characters start fake dating and end up falling in actual love. Luke, at least, seems properly sympathetic but offers exactly zero practical advice.

Willie, for his part seems remarkably unconcerned about the many possible ramifications of this deal of theirs. Then again, Willie seems remarkably unconcerned about most things. It’s part of the reason Alex likes him so much, Willie balances him out somehow. Calms the whirlwind in his brain.

Willie is holding his hand.

Honestly, he’s having a hard time focusing on anything other than that fact. And he knows it’s for show, that they’re walking up Willie’s uncle’s driveway and someone might see, but none of that matters because Willie is holding his hand.

“This is going to be easy. You already know everything about me and they know practically nothing. You probably won’t even have to lie that much,” Willie is saying and Alex is nodding like a bobble head even though he’s only half listening, “Besides,” Willie adds, “it’s only for the day anyway.”

And that snaps Alex right back to reality. Because tomorrow he’s going to have to go back to pretending like he isn’t in love with his best friend. And he’s going to have to pretend like that fact isn’t slowly killing him. And none of this is real and Alex sort of wants to cry.

Instead, he says, “Right, no big deal.”

Willie yanks them to a stop on the bottom step, tugging his lip between his teeth for a second, “Seriously, Lexi, thank you for doing this.” And then he does the most unbelievable thing and reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind Alex’s ear. It does absolutely nothing since his hair is not actually long enough to stay put, but Alex melts anyway.

“Hey,” he says, squeezing Willie’s hand, “anytime.”

Willie blushes, “Yeah,” he breathes, turning away, “um, ready to do this?”

Alex shrugs, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

As Willie introduces him around, Alex starts to relax. Really, pretending to be Willie’s boyfriend is not nearly as hard as he thought it would be. They hold hands and when anyone asks how they met, they tell the truth, “We were friends first.” Willie calls him truly ridiculous pet names like, “Hotdog” and “Honeyboo” which make some of his aunts coo at them.

Willie had basically said that he didn’t want to go to this party alone because all his relatives were awful, but that he’d only be allowed to bring someone if they were dating.

And yeah, Willie’s aunts and uncles are all a little distant and awkward, but seems mostly unbothered by their snubs.

His cousins, on the other hand are admittedly sort of awful, the kind of spoiled rich kids who think their money entitles them to look down on everyone else, but they pretty much leave the two of them alone too.

Willie’s mom had been the black sheep of the family, a free-spirit artist, who had run off with Willie’s dad right out of high school. Willie had never seen his mom’s family growing up, but after she and his dad died in a car accident, his attendance at these yearly reunions had become mandatory out of some twisted sense of duty or something. The rest of the year, Willie lives with his dad’s best friend, Ray, who is apparently not allowed to attend either.

Alex isn’t quite sure how to help, but Willie never once lets go of his hand, so maybe just being there is enough.

It’s a long afternoon, but only slightly painful, and then suddenly they’re climbing back into the car.

It takes a few seconds for Alex to realize that Willie hasn’t actually put the key into the ignition, or for that matter, let go of Alex’s hand.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs, “you okay?”

Willie drops his head onto Alex’s shoulder, “It’s just so exhausting, you know?”

Alex hums, because he doesn’t really.

“They’re all so fake, being all polite, and acting like they want to know me, but they didn’t fucking want me.”

Alex realizes then that Willie is crying, and he tries to shift so he can pull him into a hug, but Willie won’t let go of his hand.

“And I love Ray, I do, and it’s not like I want to live with them, but they spent my whole childhood pretending I didn’t exist and then when they were forced to acknowledge me, they still didn’t want me. And I lied to you. Ray usually goes with me and they wouldn’t have cared if I’d brought a friend as long as they could put on their little ‘happy family show,’ but I wanted you, and I wanted to be able to hold your hand, and now I don’t want to let go because I love you so much, but you probably don’t want me either.”

And Alex is, well, Alex is trying to wrap his head around the fact that his whole entire world just got rewritten. Because even if that was a bunch of heartbreaking word salad, he’s pretty sure Willie just said he loved him.

And this is why he doesn’t respond nearly fast enough, giving Willie the time to realize what he just said and freak out about it. Honestly, it’s all very Alex of him.

He tries to pull away, but this time, it’s Alex who won’t let go.

“Hey,” he says softly, and when Willie just keeps fighting against him, he says it louder, “Hey!” Willie freezes, staring at him, wide-eyed, “I’m, like, stupid in love with you too.”

Willie blinks, and Alex has a feeling his whole world is rewriting itself too.

“Oh,” he says, “Well, that’s convenient.”

Alex smiles at him, “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

The sit there smiling at each other, and they’re both crying still too, but none of that matters because Willie loves him.

“So, um, I’m gonna kiss you now,” Willie whispers.

“Okay,” Alex whispers back.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eighteen (Part 2)

“Oh, you’re staying back. Again.” Marnie is saying the following week as I linger on in the art room. “You’re always working in the evenings now, I feel like I never see you.”

“Yeah I’ve been fairly busy.”

“You need to chill out though.”

“I have been, on the weekends.”

She sighs and plonks into the desk next to me. I don’t look at her but I can practically hear her pout. “You never hang out with me anymore.” She whines. “Ever since your birthday you’ve been busy all of the time, I don’t get it.”

“Yeah.” I say, hesitating before adding “sorry.”

“Did I do something?”

“I just have loads of work.” I sigh. “I feel like if I spent this year actually trying to do my assignments then I wouldn’t be in this position, but I suppose I’m after kind of shooting myself in the foot.”

“Yeah, fine, but you haven’t told me any gossip about Dean since you two started hooking up.”

“Is that what this is really about?”

“Not completely, I also wanted to catch up with you and see how you’ve been.” She lies. My phone starts buzzing in my pocket and I yank it out to see my mother calling me again. She’s been doing this every few days lately. I reject the call and put it onto the table in front of me, only to see the inevitable When are you coming home? message buzz in a short minute later. I feel too frazzled to deal with any of this right now. Not while my visual development project isn’t looking exactly the way it does in my head.  

“That’s a bit of a drag about his brother getting arrested, isn’t it?” Marnie says, finally prompting me to drop my paintbrush and stare at her. “Did he tell you that?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“When?”

“The other night when we were out for drinks, why?”

“No reason.” I go back to painting while unease rises within me. So much for him not liking Marnie, not wanting to hang out with her anymore, for not having time to hang out with anybody else. What happened to our mutual agreement about this? My feelings about this must be written on my face regardless of my attempts to disguise them because when I meet her eyes they are dancing with delight. “He seems really sad about it.” She says with a dramatic pout. “Poor baby. If you want you can join us soon, we’re about to head out to that pub in Phibsborough and get some drinks.”

“Dean is going?”

“Yeah did he not tell you?”

I take a slow, steady breath through my nose, trying to calm myself enough as to not be drawn into her blatant trap. “I can’t go anyway.” I shrug. “I actually have plans.”

“Do your plans include you sitting chained to an art room desk until you get kicked out of the building at midnight by the porters?”

“No, I’m having dinner with a friend.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, slumping heavily onto the desk. “Oh is it your boring country friend again? The one who still wears ballet pumps?”

“Claire.” I correct her. “We’re cooking dinner together.”

“But can’t you cook dinner any old night? I wanted to discuss the details of my summer party with you.” 

“We can text about it, like, but do you really need my input?”

“Isn’t it fun to talk about what we’re going to do though? All of the activities we can plan?”

“Well you have a pool, so I imagine you can just let people swim in it and they’ll be alright. Most people don’t actually have one of those so it’s quite a novelty.” I glance at her and catch her rolling her eyes. “You really are just turning into one of those girls that starts seeing someone and completely vanishes. I never thought that of you, you know, I thought that you were a real girls’ girl.”

“Marnie, it’s not like that. This is Claire’s last night in Ireland before she goes to Cyprus for a month. I won’t see her after this. Any other night I can come to the pub.”

“No.” She says haughtily. “Any other night you’re here in the art room painting working on your little assignments. You won’t come to the pub. You probably won’t come to the summer party either.”

“Marnie, I will-” I trail off, because she’s already gone. 

After hitting the Tesco Express on the way home from college, I haul four shopping-laden bags up the two flights of stairs to our apartment, sweat beading on my forehead as the late spring sun beats through the windows and heats my skin. I’m so hungry, and knowing all of the delicious treats inside my bag only serves to make me more excited for dinner than I already was. Claire and I haven’t had the time to cook together in months, not since college work started to pile on for both of us, and actually, finding time to talk at all has been hard. 

I have to take a rest between two floors and flex my hand, long divots in my palms from where the thick plastic handles on the bags have dug into me. “Claire?” I shout upwards, hoping she will hear me through our fire door. “Could you help me with these bags?” I wait a moment, my voice echoes against the concrete walls and floor, and there’s no response. I sigh and haul the bags off the floor, feeling the strain on my arms and shoulders. I bet she’s got her earphones in again.

We’re making a combination of our favourites tonight, I even got a whole chicken for her signature rosemary orange roast chicken, baby potatoes, those mini broccoli stalks just ready to be drizzled in oil and garnished with flakes of seasalt, crushed chilli and toasted flaked almonds… Then for dessert we’ll have fresh black cherries with orange zest and vanilla mascarpone on the side, served up with crunchy palmiers biscuits sticking out of the top like little flags. We’ll probably be cooking it all until ten o’clock tonight, but we know the best part is the process, the joy of cooking together. The food at the end is only a bonus. 

I finally reach our floor, grunting with the effort, and shoulder the door open. “Claire!” I trill. “I’m home!”

She’s sitting on the couch, she’s the first thing I see, the back of her head with her long straight blonde hair in a smooth sheet over her back and shoulders, and she doesn’t react to me. Instantly I can feel it. Something is wrong. 

“Claire?” I say, laying the bags on the floor where I’m standing and making my way over to her. My footsteps seem particularly loud on the floor. That one obnoxious floorboard that squeaks, seeming to squeak even more than usual. 

“Hey.” She says thickly. Turning her face towards me, but not all the way. She’s avoiding my eyes. Immediately my head is spinning. It’s Shane. They’ve broken up, and he’s just sprung it on her with no warning, the day before their holiday, no less. After everything they’ve done together, all the time they’ve invested, he’s just dumped her. Perfect, beautiful Claire. It’s the Healy’s I want to start telling her. You can’t trust them, they’re hardwired to hurt us, but then as I get closer to her and she finally looks at me, somehow I know. It’s not Shane. 

It’s me. 

I don’t say a word. I stand across from her, sickening dread surging in my guts, and I don’t even know what I’ve done, but I know it’s bad, because she’s never looked at me like this before, not with these wounded eyes rimmed in red, her mouth pulled taut and downwards at the corners. A smudge of mascara is underneath one eye, and under any other circumstance I would have wiped it away for her without even thinking about it, but now I’m afraid to even take another step in her direction. 

“I thought I’d clean the apartment before you got home.” She says. “And I was doing the bins-”

My stomach instantly drops as I relive the scene. Me, and what I put into the bins yesterday, stupidly, without even thinking about it. “Oh, Claire…” 

She shakes her head. “Why would you keep that from me?” 

“I… I don’t know, I really don’t know why.”

“I tell you everything about myself, Evie. You know everything that’s happened in my life up to this point, you know every thought in my head, everything that I like, every embarrassing thing that ever happened to me that I can remember.”

I nod, because she’s right, and I keep on nodding as she goes on. 

“And I thought that you told me everything too! I know the names of all the boys you’ve ever kissed, I know about your dad and how he’s a functioning alcoholic, and your uncle and how he knocked up a twenty nine year old woman in Venezuela, and how you’ve been secretly in love with Jude for almost two years now, all your favourite snacks and places you want to visit… I just can’t understand what it is-” She pauses to take a sharp breath as fresh tears spring to her eyes, “That made you hide something like this from me.”

“I know.” I say. 

She looks at me with eyes filling up, waiting for more, but I can’t give it to her. I don’t know why I didn’t tell her, just like I don’t know why I thought it’d be a good idea to stuff a dozen condom wrappers into the general bin and not even think about the possibility of her seeing them. It’s almost like hiding things, being deceitful has become something that I naturally do, a state of being, something I no longer have to think about in the same way that it’s easier and more natural for me to think of unkind things to say about people than compliments. 

“Is it that you thought I wouldn’t understand?” She prompts. “That I’d be judging you for it?”

“I… maybe. I don’t know what I thought. It just started happening.”

“With… Dean Cullen?”

“Yes.”

She rests her forehead on her hand. “Well…” She breaks off and sighs with frustration. “Maybe Shane and I weren’t that fair about him, but if you’d just come and talked to me and explained it then maybe I’d have got it.”

“I was afraid that you’d tell me not to go near him.”

“Yeah, I probably would have, but if you really care about each other then I would have tried my best to understand and support you, and then you wouldn’t have had to sneak around.”

I feel acutely aware of my body, and the way I’m just standing there like a statue, palms prickling, heart thudding in my chest knowing that Dean and I don’t really care about each other, at least not him. He doesn’t care about anything, let alone me anymore. He, the man who treats me like dirt, and I, the girl who deserves it. But I’ll have to keep this information from her too. The truth would be too much for her to bear.

“Sex is a personal thing.” I attempt. “I wouldn’t ask you for the details, the ins and outs of what you do.” And saying that is a mistake, because her eyes flash to mine and the fury and the hurt contained in them is like a gut punch. “It’s not that you had sex with someone, it’s that you lied about it, for no good reason.”

“Yeah well-”

“And I’m your best friend, and you used to tell me everything, and I’m supposed to help you when you go through big life moments.” She tosses her arms up in frustration. “And what happened the first time you did it? Who did you talk to about it? Because I know you didn’t call your mam.”

“I didn’t tell anybody.”

“Was he nice to you?”

I hesitate, the ugly memory of his blatant disappointment in me attempting to resurface before I banish it into the depths of my mind again. “Kind of.”

“Why couldn’t you talk to me?” She’s crying again, and I don’t know what to do about it, so I just stand there, paralysed with the knowledge that it’s all my fault, I’ve caused this. I’m making her cry because of the decisions I’ve made, ones I continue to make every day, and still cannot seem to stop making. I wish I was dead. I don’t want to kill myself, but I wish I was dead. 

“Nothing else.” I insist. “Nothing else big, I don’t know. I really did try to tell you everything. I fucked up with the Dean thing, I know that and I really wanted to talk to you about it but I was so afraid that you’d disapprove.”

“So what if I did?”

“Because when you disapprove of him it feels like you disapprove of me, and my choices, and the things I want for myself. You can tell me you don’t like him and you think he’s a freak, but really, it just sounds like you think I have bad taste, and the person I chose is defective.”

“And if he is?”

“Then so am I by association.”

“That’s so not true, Evie.”

“It feels fairly true.”

“There are a lot of people in your life who may have made you feel like shit, your mam, Kelly, Marnie, and even Jude, but you can’t lump me in with them. I’ve always been on your side, I’ve always been there for you.”

“Claire, I can’t help feeling this way, it’s just how it’s always been.”

“Haven’t you ever thought about talking to someone about it?”

“What, like a therapist?”

“Yeah.”

“No, my parents would never support that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with getting help, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Tell that to them.”

She sighs heavily and shakes her head, and I know that I’ve just annoyed her, that she’s had enough. She doesn’t want to be trapped in this awful conversation with me. “If you won’t go and talk to a therapist then I don’t know what to say to you. I understand that you feel like something is broken in you, and you’re hurting at the moment but it’s really not fair to take that out on the people that truly care about you, like, for us to have to sit here and watch you go through it while you do nothing to help yourself.”

“I’m fine, Claire. I’m really not going through anything, I just made a mistake. I should have told you about Dean, and I’m sorry. I can’t explain why I didn’t tell you, I wish I understood it myself.” 

Her expression breaks my heart, it’s like total resignation, exhaustion, the face of a girl who is tired of being worried, worn thin. “Okay well, like I tried to explain to you, it’s not really about Dean but…” Another sigh. “I just… I think I just need to go to my room now.”

She starts getting up and I watch her, head buzzing with confusion. “Wait, have we finished talking about this? What about dinner?”

“I’ll go without it, if that’s okay. You’re just really hard to be around at the minute.”

I watch her as she walks towards the stairs and feel this surge of panic, as though I’m watching her slip through my fingers like sand. “Claire…” I say helplessly, and seeming to understand what I mean she looks at me once again. “I still love you.” She clarifies. “You’re still my best friend, but I need to be alone. We can talk again when I get back from Cyprus.”

“In a month?”

“Yeah. I think I could use some space, if that’s okay.”

It’s not. I’m not. “Yeah of course, I can respect that.”

She nods at me and then goes upstairs and disappears from sight, and I just stand there and listen to her leaving, fixed to the spot accompanied only by the hum of the fridge, the methodical ticking of a clock, and the slow drip of melting ice inside the bags on the floor. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[fatuismooches]

SMOOCHES HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

Im so happy to have spent this year talking with you and sharing all my ideas with you! Honestly 2023 was such a year I’ll have many memories of, but I can’t wait for 2024. (My genetics appointment is tomorrow as of writing this so those results will kinda determine how my year goes I suppose!) you’re literally the sweetest, most wonderful creator I’ve ever met and I can’t help but be honored to be your dear boo boo bear🎐 anon! I hope we continue to interact this year and hopefully more Dottore crumbs please Mihoyo!! I desperately want Dottore crumbs so we can both talk about them together! I hope you know how much I love and appreciate you so much, your writings always lift up my mood and your add-ons to my stories make my days so much more special and brighter. Honestly, I never expected Zandy to become so popular on this page and yet he did! He was honestly just a little thought that ended up blossoming into more and I love seeing others expand on Zandy. I always feel so giddy seeing others talk about Zandy it makes my heart all happy!! With how happy your page and anons make me you all could cure my chronic illness if that was even possible! However, I have a little drabble to start the new year. I’m giving you so much many chu chus! Expect a lot of those this year hehe, it’s been SO COLD I need cuddles T_T but I love you so so much smooches please take care of yourself and make sure you get loads of rest! I’ll always be here to tuck you in and cuddle with you >.< Definitely expect more this week hopefully if m not too busy!! Moving on to drabble:

Seeing as a new year has finally arrived, I like to think that on New Year’s Eve, fragile!reader would be reminiscent of the past year and somewhat happy knowing they can hopefully live to see another year despite their fragility. However, Dottore sees it as a punch to his face. Another year has passed, and he still cannot cure his dear lover. Empty promises of curing them, but when? The year has already ended, and he fears they won’t make it to the next. Their time is limited if he can’t cure them, but he has to find a way, he promised them. So while they both stand next to each other waiting for the countdown, they both think of opposite views of the year. One filled with happiness for making through it, while the other filled with anger for failing once again.

-from your dear boo boo bear 🎐 anon!

HAPPY NEW YEAR 🎐 ANON!! 🥹🥹 I'm so happy you're my boo boo 🎐 anon too, whenever I see you in my inbox I always smile and I'm so glad you're here too! (I really hope your appointment goes well my dear! I'm wishing only the best for you! 💗💗) But me? I don't just want Dottore crumbs. I want a whole MEAL 😤 I'm tired of waiting!! And I can't wait to talk about them with you too 🎐 anon hehe it's gonna be so much fun! NWJDEWJD I think we all have to thank you for baby Zandy... 😭 he's literally the cutest munchkin ahh we love Zandy in this house... Giving you much mwahs and hugs more! *cuddles you* Please make sure to rest a lot too! AND AHHHH THE DRABBLE IM GOING INSANE-

ARGGGGH THE ANGST SO GOOD... I imagine Dottore does not care at all for New Year's and all of that, i mean, after all, he has been alive for centuries. The years passing just pass, they don't mean too much anymore. But you? You still love them! Your conception of time is a lot different from his, you have been asleep for centuries so you appreciate the New Year's for what it is! Another year of being with your dear Zandik! Yeah, there's been a lot of ups and downs this year but, you're just grateful to have another chance with your lover. (You probably let Zandy stay up late for the New Year!! 😭) BWJDBWED i can't. Poor Dottore, I imagine he despised the New Year even more when you were asleep because it was yet another year of being along. Of not having the one person he cared about with him. At the very least, although he's upset at himself for failing you, you're here with him now. At least, that's what you say to him when you see his expression. (He didn't need to say it out loud. You just knew.)

[pixeldistractions]

Lou was coming up on her thirtieth birthday much faster than she wanted to admit. While she had no qualms about getting older, she wasn’t a fan of the unwanted changes that came along with it. For example, was that a shooting pain in her lower back just from playing hopscotch? These days, she would also much rather hang out with her sister and niece after a long week of work than go bar crawling on a Friday night. Especially if her sister promised a bottle of wine to share.

Lou was proud of Maria for doing something new and creative for herself. Or, it may turn out, that something might benefit both of them if the wine ever turned out good.  

“I dare you to drink it first,” Maria laughed.

“On three,” Lou said. “One, two, three, chug!”

“Huh, not bad. I like this for you,” Lou said. “It’s better than knitting, huh?”

“Don’t knock knitting,” Maria said. “It sounds very relaxing. But you like this better because you get to drink the wine with me. I don’t think you’d be as appreciative if I knitted you a scarf.”

“Truth. Just, like, just don’t go and develop a drinking problem on my behalf.” 

“So, Jamie wants to move in together,” Lou said. 

“Oh my gosh, did she say that?” 

“No, she would never. But her sister is all talking about moving in with Ian, which just makes Jamie have this constant look, like… the perfect mix of expectation and disappointment at the same time.”

“Moving in together is a big deal,” Maria said.  

“I know, right? But do you think if we moved in together she’d stop swooning for a baby?”

Maria’s eyes went wide. “No! She would do the exact opposite. Lou!”

“That’s why I’m not asking her to move in! I mean, I wouldn’t mind having her there full-time. We’re good in that way, but god, ever since this whole science baby breakthrough. It’s all she ever reads about, thinks about, talks about. Isn’t it wonderful? Isn’t it amazing? Everyone can have a real family together, even people like us… Like, what makes a ‘real’ family anyway? And besides, if I had her baby at my place, who would watch your baby all the time?”

“Thank you, by the way,” Maria said, “for agreeing to watch JoJo. She’s kind of sour over it, but I’ll bring her with me the next time. Twenty-four hours is gonna be rough, even if it’s also fun. I really think we need to focus on each other.”

“In bed…” Lou crooned, and they both laughed. “Can he afford all these trips?”

“He’s paying for this one, I’ll pay for the next. It’s even. It should be, right? Aren’t you a feminist?”

Lou gave her sister a disapproving stare. “I don’t know, equality and all that, but… that money is for you and JoJo. That’s why Joseph left it to you, so you’d be taken care of. Not to spend on your boyfriend.”

“I know,” Maria said. “But anyway, he’s never asked me for money. He’s not like that. He’s not materialistic at all.”

“Does he know you have it?”

“Uh, no, he probably doesn’t.” Maria took a long sip and settled into that new worry, while Lou’s thoughts drifted to her own concerns. She had planned to ask Jamie to sleep over tonight, but now the idea felt loaded. So she thought instead about organizing that girls’ night. Pajamas, board games, and campy movies was a lighter topic to think about. Maria could bring the wine. But trying to sync up everybody’s busy schedules was harder these days as they all settled into their nearly thirty-something careers and relationships.  

“Lou,” Maria said delicately. “You said ‘her’ baby. Not yours together.” 

Lou felt called out. “I did, didn’t I?” Lou nodded, then she let out an exhale so heavy it could blow the whole subject away. Too much reality for a Friday night, and the buzz from this wine was finally kicking in.

“This isn’t bad, by the way,” Lou said. “Kind of like cider, but not too sweet. It could definitely be stronger, though.”

“Then we’d definitely develop a drinking problem,” Maria said. 

— from “boxes and squares #4.2: then have some faith” (2/5)

story notes: = the reason Lou and Jamie are on again, off again, over and over again?

Also, so Maria is a little bit loaded? That’s not meant to be a secret, exactly, but it hasn’t been mentioned for a while. She mentioned it all the way back here, talking about how she didn’t really need to work, but liked to work when Jordan was on the schedule. She receives a military death benefit from the government on Joseph’s behalf, but Joseph also had a bit of family money which he left to Maria and Johanna. It’s not a ridiculous amount, but it’s enough.

Next ->

[m0nsterqzzz]

Puzzles Can Be Fun

pairing: boss!Tony Stark x employee!malereader

summary: Your boss Tony is a flirt. everyone knows that. but what about when he asks you out?

a/n: I had like no inspiration forever but then this piece of shit came into my brainnnn. hope you enjoy :)

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Working for Tony Stark is a pain and pleasure at the same time. 

The billionaire can never fail to make you laugh, but he also never fails to give you a headache. 

You've worked for him for a few years since your older sister Pepper didn't get the job and she instead recommended you, her younger brother. 

Tony is a great man, but he's quite flirty. He leaves you gifts on your desk daily, uses terrible pick up lines as he leans against your doorframe every afternoon. He’s never truly asked you out on a date, and if that wasn’t proof that he’s kidding, the models he takes home every night are. He barely looks your way as he leads them out of his office and to his fancy cars. But that’s okay. You can’t be upset over losing something that was never really yours.

Today is no different. You arrive a little bit later than usual, a permanent blush coating your cheeks after being hit on by the hot barista when you were getting Tony's morning coffee. You knock on your bosses door but don’t wait for a “come in” before walking in. It’s a struggle with the drink carrier in one hand and folders in the other.  He’s sitting at a table covered in gadgets that you couldn’t name if your life depended on it, and he drops the screwdriver he’s holding to turn around and grin at you. “Hey handsome! How is my favorite employee this fine morning?” He says, standing up to grab some of the folders for you. “What do you want Tony? You’re being suspiciously nice.” You say. He fake gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if your words hurt him.

You roll your eyes, setting down his coffee near his work station and sit in the chair he keeps near his, specifically for when you have no work to do and want to watch him work. He sits down next to you. He picks up the screwdriver again and goes back to working on one of the iron man suit hands. “I want to know if you’d come with me to a gala tomorrow? I don’t know if I’ll survive the night without you.” You’re barely paying attention as you begin filling out some forms in the files you brought in. “I work tomorrow. I have loads of paperwork to do.” “I’m your boss though.” “And boss, you scheduled for me to work 6 days a week. Tomorrow is one of those days.” “Okay then brainiac, as your boss, I’m giving you the duty of coming with me to an event tomorrow night.” 

You sigh, looking up from the legal document and focusing on him. “Fine. What do you want me to wear?” You give in. He grins. “Something fancy. Other than that, I leave it up to you. You have great style.”

It’s silent for a few minutes as you both continue on your work. 

“What’s this?” You hum, looking up when he doesn’t say anything. He’s glaring at his coffee cup like it just insulted him. “It’s your usual. A black coffee with two extra shots of espresso, vanilla creamer and an unhealthy and disgusting amount of sugar. Why? Is something wrong with it?” He shakes his head and then turns the cup a bit so you can see the words written on the side of it. There are a few numbers written on it. A phone number with the note:

Hope you enjoy the coffee pretty boy

Call me :)

The blush is back on your face, and you shake your head as you try to focus back on the paperwork in front of you. “The barista that works at the cafe down the road was flirting with me I think. I didn’t know if he was serious but I uh…I guess he was.” You shrug.

Tony instantly throws the to-go cup in the trashcan next to his table. “What the hell Tony? That was a perfectly good cup of coffee. He probably just didn’t know which cup was mine.” You say, but Tony doesn’t respond as he goes back to work like nothing happened.

You huff, standing up and looking into the trash can. It landed the perfect way, and you can still see the number on the cup. You put it in a contact on your phone.

“What? It’s not like you're gonna go out with him right?” Tony asks, his eyes not moving from his work. You sigh, sending a quick hello to the barista and grab the files off the table. It’s time to go back to your own desk.

“I don’t know. But the least I could do if I'm not going to is send him a quick message. I don’t wanna seem rude. Why does it matter to you?” He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “It doesn’t sweetheart. Why don’t you go make me a coffee? I know yours are always made with love unlike that asshole. I bet his coffee was made with poison.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as you begin walking out of the office. You’re not Tony Stark's “sweetheart”.

A few hours later, you're sitting at your desk when Tony exits his office. He smiles at you, but you're still quite salty over the events this morning. He doesn’t say anything about it if he notices.

“So sweetheart, what are you doing tonight?” You groan, spinning around to look at the wall of hung up important reminders for you and simultaneously avoid looking at him. “Why do you wanna know Mr. Stark?”

He shrugs, looking at the dying flowers on your desk. “Do you need new flowers?” “Yes I do actually. The ones you got me are dying so I'm going to buy some more soon.” “Hm….interesting. Anyway, you never answered my question.” “That’s because I asked my own Mr. Stark.” He huffs.

“I want to take you out to dinner. Tonight.” His words take a moment to register in your head and then you're laughing. You’ve heard those words from Tony many times, but never once have they been uttered to you. His classic smirk drops a bit, but he begins to chuckle along with you. “W-why are we laughing? I mean….if you’re busy we can go another day.” You’re beginning to think he’s serious.

“That’s very funny Tony. Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I’m not kidding sweetheart.” You freeze, pretending to be focused on the work in front of you as you mow over his sentence. He’s silent, patiently- not really as he can never be patient- waiting for your reply.

“I can’t go out with you Tony.” His smile drops. “What? Why?” He asks. “Because you're my boss. I don’t know all the rules but I know that's pretty bad.” He sighs, leaning on your desk in a way that makes it hard to say no.

“But I’m your boss. I make the rules.” He says and you chuckle. “I’m sorry Tony. My answer is no. Now, if you don’t need anything else today, I’m going to go home and do puzzles while I watch TV and dinner.”

You’re packing up your stuff, and in a last bit of hope he rushes out, “I like puzzles! I would love to come over and help you with them. Thank you for the invite sweetheart.” You stop what you’re doing and look at him. “You can’t sit still for more than two minutes and the only puzzles you like involve mechanics. And also, I didn’t invite you.” You deadpan, and he mocks offensive. “You clearly don’t know me at all! I love puzzles. And dinner. I like dinner. So, what do you say? I’ll swing by at six and bring chinese from that place you like?” 

You take a moment to stare at him before you huff, nodding and trying not to smile at the grin that forms on his face. He nods and then speeds off to his office, leaving you alone to roll your eyes at his antics. Tony Stark is an annoying man, that's for sure. But you gotta give it to him, he’s pretty convincing.

Later that night, now in sweats and a t-shirt, you grab a three thousand piece puzzle from your closet. You have bigger ones, but you know Tony will quickly become bored and stressed with even a 100 piece one.

There's a knock on the door, and you find yourself checking your hair in the glass of a photo hanging in your hallway. You open the door, and Tony's standing there. He's wearing the same clothes as earlier, black jeans and a t-shirt, but he looks as good as always. 

He smiles his classic charming smile, holding up the fruit box filled with take out containers. in his other hand is a bouquet of flowers, a different type then the kind he got you last time. He notices your wide eyes at the gift and mumbles, “For your desk.”

You find yourself smiling a bit, taking the bouquet from him and smiling. “Thank you Tony. Come in.”

He follows you into your home, setting the food on the kitchen counter and looking at the puzzle spread out on your living room table. “That's…..a lot of pieces.”

You chuckle. “I'm not finishing it today. Don't panic. I’m not gonna torture you to much.” You say.

You grab some silverware and go to the living room, grabbing a random container of food along the way. Tony follows, sitting dangerously close to you. “So, what's it gonna look like when it's done?” You can practically feel his breath on your neck as he speaks, making you lightly shiver and show him the box.

It's a picture of what looks like a thousand butterflies, and he shouldn't be surprised with the knowledge that you draw butterflies flying on his arms during every single meeting.

You start building the border, watching with a small smile as Tony separates them by pieces with pictures on them and pieces with no pictures, just color. 

About 30 minutes later, Tony's rambling on about some movie he watched recently. He seems to have forgot the main task at hand. But that's okay, you already have most of the border done.

He suddenly stops talking, sitting up from his lying position and looking at the puzzle again. “I got this.” He starts grabbing random border pieces and connecting the ones that connect. Your phone starts buzzing, the baristas contact showing up. You decline his call, not missing the way Tony clenches and unclenches his jaw.

Another 10 minutes later, you can tell he's becoming agitated. You place a gentle hand over one of his. “Its just a puzzle Tony. Take a deep breath and control your anger.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but does it anyway.

“I’m not mad, I'm just……94.27 percent annoyed. Not at you though, sweetheart.” He says and you laugh.

He sets down the pieces, going back to lying down and you ask, “You knew you'd hate this. Why are you really here Tony?”

He sighs, still looking at the ceiling as he admits, “I want to get closer to you. If I do, maybe you'll consider going out with me.” This brings a small chuckle out of you. “I told you I can't go out with you Tony. Even if we get closer.” You say, not looking up from the puzzle as you do.

He nods, and you think he's dropped the subject until he sits up to look at you. His brown eyes are staring at yours, making you slightly nervous. Not in a bad way though? This is confusing.

“Look at me sweetheart. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel the same way.” Your eyes widen, and a smirk makes its way onto his face when you blush. “Well…I….I can't exactly say that I don't…” He grins, and your instantly being lifted off the couch and into his arms.

He grabs you like your nothing, and then practically slams you into the wall and begins kissing you like his life depends on it. And lets set the record straight, it was the best wall make out of all time.

His hands start traveling, and your instantly snapped back into reality. You gently push him off of you, but his erratic breathing and blown pupils are making what you're about to say so much harder. “I don't want to be one of your one night stands Tony. I've wanted this for a really long time but I won't do it if things are going to go back to the way they were before tomorrow morning.” He takes a moment to collect himself before he mumbles against your lips, “It won't be. I'm yours alright? And I'm hoping you'll be mine. We can take this as slow as you want. And also I'd really love it if you'd never talk to that barista ever again unless you're ordering my coffee. And if he does it again, I'll buy the cafe. Let's see him flirt on the clock again.”

You laugh, giving him a quick kiss before leaning to the side to whisper in his ear, “Your mine? You promise?” “I promise.” “Then I'm yours. All of me.” The look in your eyes is all the confirmation he needs and suddenly you're being thrown over his shoulder.

Your laughter fills the apartment as he carry you down the hallway and to your room, the puzzles long forgotten.