#but I have a sexy guy who’s been going through a bad divorce and is a trucker who just went went on vacation and well

[tariah23]

Been thinking about oc’s today

[songmingisthighs]

Feelings, Feelings

group : ateez

pairing : wooyoung × reader (platonic)

genre : oneshot, hurt/comfort

wc : 1.4 k

warning : shitty friends lmao

a/n : requested by anon

buy me coffee ?

You were not in the best mood and it showed.

The people who woukd usually greet and talk to you seem to avoid you because you looked like you didn't want to be bothered. If the look on your face didn't give it away, your hastened pace and rigid body language absolutely did.

See, you weren't having a bad day. You were actually on the verge of an emotional breakdown. It all started about a week ago when your group of friends talked about going for a night out, bar hopping or clubbing or something and they talked over you completely. One person actually had the decency to ask your opinion directly while the others only said things like 'oh she wouldn't like that' 'that's so not (y/n)' 'she'd just be in the corner being a bummer' and more. While you do realize they were just joking around and trying to be funny, it hurt you that they'd just talk FOR you. Sure, you really didn't like their plans but it HAD been a while since all of you met up and hung out.

So imagine your surprise to see your friends posting a picture of their drinks on their social media accounts.

You stood frozen in the middle of the grocery store when you saw one of their Instagram stories and you even had to sit in a corner as you scroll through your group chat that had been practically dead for 2 days, wanting to see if you missed any updates because as far as you know, they were only talking about a plan and not making actual plans. Now you know why those bitches were so fucking silent.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't 703," Wooyoung called, snickering to himself as he sidled up next to you who was waiting for the elevator. Usually, you wouldn't mind the younger guy because you had been used to his voice. How can you not? The first day you saw him was when he moved in for college. You had just finished your first week of internship and he had accidentally bumped into you. Literally, he dropped a thermos on your foot which prompted you to cry in front of a very confused and panicked 17 year old Wooyoung. Though he was unsure, he sat his boxes aside and just sat there while listening to you rant about how he shouldn't grow up, get out of college, and just go back to his parents' house because working and being independent was so overrated. Rather than focusing on how you were spewing your guts to a complete stranger, Wooyoung was more focused on why a 20 year old sounded like she had gone through 4 divorces and a public scandal.

It was odd how you were able to be vulnerable with him and it was even more odd to find him in front of your door that night with two packs of ramyeon and a huge grin on his face. He confessed he had bothered approximately every apartment on floors 1-6 and half of floor 7 looking for you because he wanted to make sure you were okay. You should've been embarrassed that a guy who's practically a child had to come and comfort you but you didn't. He made you feel comfortable.

Unlike now.

"Go away Wooyoung, I'm not in the mood," you sighed, shifting the grocery bags in your hands slightly. Wooyoung didn't listen, however, instead, he leaned his shoulder on the wall and ducked his head to meet your eyes which you avoided, "I thought you would've been busy with your friends tonight or something. I had to rethink of a new plan to make a move on you!" He teased.

The mention of your friends and hanging out, your blood boiled and your grip on the grocery bags tightened. "Wooyoung," you warned, jaw tightening as you felt your eyeballs burn. "I'm just saying, I thought my sexy little noona would've been out and about," he grinned innocently (despite the words he used).

You dropped your grocery bags and turned around, making way to the stairs. "Whoah, wait!" Wooyoung grabbed your hand and turned you around, "What's wrong?" He said with furrowed eyebrows, genuinely confused as to why you acted that way. He was even more confused when you yanked your hand off his grip and saw tears welling in your eyes.

"You can seriously shove whatever it is you think of me down your throat, Wooyoung," was all you said before you trodded upstairs to your floor.

It was a mistake for you to do that because once you finally made it, you were panting and the blurriness in your eyes was not only caused by your tears but also from the exercise. So you weren't sure if the sight of Wooyoung in front of your apartment was real or a hallucination. He even had your groceries in his hands.

"Go home, Woo," you sighed, sniffling as you fumble for your keys in your bag. This time he wasn't as vocal, only shrugging until you opened your door and slipped in together with you despite your clear expression of annoyance but you still let him in. You both were silent as you removed your shoes and settled your things, Wooyoung helping put things away which was how he noticed you buying your favourite cereal and milk, a comfort "dinner" for whenever you felt like your life was on the verge of tipping into pure chaos and you just don't have any time and energy to give a fuck about crap like dinner. "I'm not going to entertain you, Woo," you stated, voice cracking slightly as tears welled up in your eyes again all the while you tried to busy yourself by putting things away.

You hadn't noticed it initially but when you turned to kick him out again, you saw him with a bowl of your cereal and a soft smile on his face. "If what you need is me out, then I will go but not until I see you eat," he stated, putting the bowl on your counter and sauntering over to pull you so he could sit you down to eat.

In your head, you knew how ashamed you were for needing Wooyoung who's around 3 years younger than you to take care of you. But it felt nice to be tended to for once. Amongst your friends who were around the same age as or older than you, you were always expected to keep things together because they don't really have the time or energy to deal with what they labelled as "personal bullshit". Or maybe they're just a bunch of bitches dressed in fake prada and cheap jewellery that were slowly turning green with each wear. Wooyoung had once expressed how he doesn't like your friends because of what they were saying about you to your face even in front of him who was a stranger to them but they didn't seem to care. Heck, they seem to enjoy being annoying, catty bitches.

Thinking that you weren't going to eat in front of him, Wooyoung smiled and squeezed your hand once before turning to leave but this time, you stopped him. You grabbed him by the arm and with quivering lips, you looked up at him, "D-do you think y-you can accompany me eat on the couch? I-I think I'm gonna need company," you asked.

Without hesitation, Wooyoung nodded and pulled you into a gentle and warm hug. "Can this 'company' include watching A Man Called Otto? Because San watched it without me and he cried so I wanted to know if the movie was really THAT sad or if he was just being a bitch," he pulled away just as he heard you chuckling and felt you nodding, "Only if you have a bowl of cereal with me."

As you watched Wooyoung busy himself with getting his own bowl of cereal and making both of you comfortable on your couch, you realized that it was stupid of you to have been upset to be left behind by your supposed friends. Sure, it sucks to be singled out and heard how your friends make you sound so lame. But honestly? Being in your own home with Wooyoung loudly commenting about the movies as you spoon cereal and milk into your mouth, you wouldn't have it any other way.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread @spooo00oky @jwnghyuns @cutie-wooyo @asjkdk @shinotani @aestheticsluut @mingiberrii

@chloepurpy

[blues824]

Hmm, must think before it's over; I got it! Male!Levi Ackerman!Reader in the Remarried Empress world being Navier's personal guard having been trained for most of his life after being an orphan (avoiding too many spoilers for possible future readers who may not have gotten that far). Despite his small size, MC is the world's strongest for a reason. As kids, they had small crushes on each other but now as adults they're full-blown in love though they hide their feelings because neither wants the other's reputation to be ruined.

That doesn't mean they're not slightly more affection behind closed doors but they're still pretty careful. When Heinrey starts sniffing around, MC gets slightly nervous because Heinrey is of royal blood and can offer a far greater life for Her Majesty even with a scandal.

After being discreetly reassured, he relaxes but keeps a wary eye on the Prince just in case. He's coldly courteous to the Emperor but pretends as if Trashta doesn't exist (never in front of Sovieshit though). He's in good graces with Kosair (who knows of the mutual feelings between the guard and his sister) but greatly dislikes Duke Ergi Claude for the bad vibes.

If Navier catches feelings for Heinrey, MC will be devastated but willing to back off to be Her Majesty's unwaveringly loyal guard as he understands she may very well not want two lovers after what she had to go through with the Emperor (maybe the three of them can talk about what's best for them because healthy communication is lowkey sexy~)

(Do the Emperor and Mistress have any idea of something that may have been brewing between them before everything went to shit leading up to and after the divorce? An inkling? Or is it brushed aside as paranoia?)

Communication is very sexy.

Sovieshu

He genuinely did not like you, and it’s partially because of your closeness with Her Imperial Majesty. The other part of it was the fact that you were humanity’s strongest, and were a renowned soldier and knight, as well as a hero. You were worshiped and praised by the people, holding more popularity than him.

In addition to that, he knew of your little rendezvous with Navier each night, you giving her the affection that he himself starved her of. However, he will also keep the little affair under wraps, since he would be painted as the bad guy who got in the way of you two.

You were very cold towards him and Rashta, and he was always offended by anything you did. What was worse was that Navier acted the same way towards him and his mistress, and he didn’t know who to blame for this.

When Heinrey came around, he was distraught. Not only were you trying to steal his wife, but also this young prince from the Western Kingdom. Perhaps you were trying to gang up against him and win the support of the public. You used to be a commoner yourself, so it wouldn’t be hard for you.

Rashta

You were a heartthrob in the Empire, and when she first saw you she could see why. However, you only had eyes for Navier. You were cold, but respectful towards Rashta, and that made the young mistress very upset. She really needs to learn how to take ‘no’ for an answer.

She constantly tries to get Sovieshu to assign you as her personal guard rather than his wife’s, but to no avail. You were a knight who swore your undying loyalty to Her Imperial Majesty, Navier. You even said her name in the vow so that in the case she was divorced from Sovieshu, you would still be loyal to her and her alone.

When the Emperor wasn’t present, you just ignored her and she hated it. She often pulled out the fake tears to try and get you to notice her, but it’s all in vain. Rashta was constantly getting more and more upset that you didn’t love her in return.

The young mistress was constantly praying to whatever gods were listening that your relationship with the Empress would be destroyed one way or another. Be it by someone finding out about your feelings, or by Heinrey stealing Navier from you, she didn’t care.

Navier

You both had known each other since you were children, and you both were in love. It broke your hearts when the two of you heard that she had been betrothed to Sovieshu, but you made a promise to her to become her knight.

Then, the fateful day where she knighted you and assigned you as her personal guard. You had gone through each of the ranks and worked your way up to the top. You were a captain as well as a general of the army of the Eastern Empire. 

She loved you dearly, and you became her lover. When you were away on a mission, you wrote her letters detailing your love for her. Then when you came back, she would invite you to her chambers where you both embraced each other.

The moment that Heinrey came into the picture, Her Imperial Majesty could feel the tension. She did genuinely love you both, so she proposed the thought of a harem. You and the prince knew that you both wanted her to be happy, and you realized that neither of you were as bad as you originally thought, so it worked out.

Heinrey

He knows of you because stories of you have reached all around the world. You were a valiant soldier, known as Humanity’s Strongest. You also climbed through the ranks, going from commoner to general of the army of the Eastern Empire.

When he got the invitation to the New Year’s Party, he was very excited to meet the fabled hero. However, once he had gotten there, he realized that this would be more complicated than originally thought. You both were in love with the Empress, and it was clear as day.

The tension between you two grew, but either of you could tell that it was stressing out Navier to an unhealthy degree. You had invited him to your Captain’s Quarters to talk about it, and you served one of the best cups of tea he had ever tasted.

This is where you both came up with the idea of Navier divorcing Sovieshu, marrying Heinrey, and you joining them. Her Imperial Majesty was very delighted that the two of you would set aside your differences just for her, and things started getting better between the three of you.

Kosair

You two were best friends since childhood, and once you joined the army that still hadn’t changed. You would occasionally meet up for drinks or something, and this was where you told him how you felt for his younger sister.

I feel like he would be delighted by this fact because he knows that you would be able to treat his sister right. However, she was currently married to a stupid man we all know as Sovieshu. This is quite the conundrum that you both found yourself in. Not just that, but Heinrey came into the picture.

He knows that your reputation as Humanity’s Strongest would definitely aid you in your mission to woo Navier, but you had the Crowned Prince of the Western Kingdom to compete against. As much as he didn’t really like the idea, he asked if you ever thought about sharing her with Heinrey.

By the way, when he becomes a knight in the Western Kingdom, he goes under your command. You train him the hardest, claiming that you can’t show favoritism towards any soldier. However, he soon became your right hand man.

[viking-raider]

Soothing the Shadows

Summary: You were Marshall's nurse, after he was shot by Simon Stulls. The two of you fall in love, and everything seems perfect, but it's strained by Marshall holding something back from you. His fear of losing you.

Pairing: Walter Marshall/Reader

Word Count: 6.5

Warning: M - Mention of Violence, PTSD, Severe Flashback, Mention of an ugly divorce, Language, Fluff, Alcohol Use, Mental Health battle - SMUT - fingering (F receiving), protected intercourse.

Inspiration: So, for this fic, I sort of meshed Marshall and Sy together into one.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

Dating a homicide detective wasn't easy. Especially, when that homicide detective was Captain Walter Marshall.

The pair of you had met after Marshall was injured on the job, having been shot by Simon Stulls and his twin brother. You were the nurse that took care of Marshall, while he recovered from the near fatal wound that rendered him in the Intensive Care Unit for two weeks.

“How are we feeling tonight, Captain Marshall?” You asked, breezing into Marshall's private room, with a bright smile, finding your grumpy and sometimes difficult patient in his bed, one massive arm in a sling and the other working the remote control to his tv.

“Hm.” Marshall huffed back at you, rolling his eyes.

You chuckled at him, not taking it personally. “How's your pain level?” You inquired, checking his medical chart to see the notes from his previous nurse, before moving over to examine the vitals on his monitors. “Better than yesterday?” You asked, lifting a brow in his direction, remembering the discomfort he had been in.

“Six.” He rattled off the number, shrugging his good shoulder.

“Would you like me to get you anything for it?”

“No, I'm fine.” Marshall answered, sighing softly, setting the remote down on the little rolling table next to his bed and raked a hand through his hair. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“Is our hospitality that bad?” You quipped, giggling at him, hoping to get him to at least smile. “I could phone the manager.”

Marshall looked up, his blue eyes regarding you for a long moment, making you feel like he was reading your soul, before he finally responded. A twinkle in his gaze. “No, I'd hate to complain to the manager. Especially when there's one bright spot in the hospitality.”

“Well that's-” You gulped, shifting in your rubber nurse's clogs. “That's good to know, Captain Marshall.” You told him, a bit sheepish.

“Marshall.” He corrected you, gently. “Just call me, Marshall.”

“Marshall.” You smirked, nodding your head. “I'm glad you enjoy the hospitality. But I also hope you go home soon. I'm sure your daughter is ready for you too.” You said, changing the subject, so the heat in your cheeks would cool off.

“And, your wife.” You added, a small lump in your throat.

“Oh, she's-”

“Code Blue.” The Hospital P.A crackled over the speakers. “Code Blue. All personnel. Code Blue, room eighteen.”

“Oh crap!” You gasped, adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. “I'm so sorry!” You said quickly, before rushing out of his room.

Sadly, you weren't able to see Marshall again. Your code blue patient took up most of your time and when you were finished with them and your other rounds, Marshall had been released to go home. You were happy for him, even though you were a bit sad that you hadn't been able to say goodbye and see him off.

But you got another opportunity to come your way.

“Hey.” One of your co-workers tapped you on the shoulder as you stood at the nurse's station, filling out a medication request. “There's a super handsome guy asking for you.”

You looked up from the computer. “What?” You frowned at her, confused. “Who?”

“I don't know, I didn't get a name. But he's damned sexy.” She chuckled, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Shaking your head, you leaned over the counter of the nurse's station, looking down the hall and towards the doors that allowed entry onto your floor. You were shocked to see Marshall standing there, reading one of the posters on the wall. “Oh my god!” You gasped, quickly pulling back, before he could see you.

“Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he was one of my patients.” You told her, fussing over your black, whimsical bee, scrubs and hair.

“Well, you must like each other.” She commented, watching you with amusement.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, going by her and trying to act natural and calm, despite being nervous beyond belief. “Marshall, what are you doing here? Is everything all right? Is your wound healing?” You asked, trying to be professional.

“Everything's fine.” He smiled at you, instinctively touching his shoulder. “It's healing great.”

“Then, what are you doing here?”

“I-uh-came to see you.” He confessed, biting the inside of his lip. “I wanted to know, if you'd like to get some coffee with me, sometime?” He asked, shoulders stiffening with resolve.

You narrowed your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side. “Aren't you married?”

Marshall drew in a deep breath, tightly folding his arms over his chest. “I was married, yes.” He replied, his face darkening. “Angie and I divorced some time ago. It's complicated and not something I'd like to get into.”

“All right, as long as I'm not being a home wrecker by accepting your offer.” You answered, relieved.

“I assure you, you're not.” Marshall said, relief dancing in his blue eyes. “So, when are you next available?”

You looked down at your watch, tilting your head side to side for a moment. “I can take my lunch break right now.” You told him, meeting his gaze with a smirk.

“All right.” He nodded, turning to push open one of the doors behind him, for you.

That day had changed both your and Marshall's lives. You quickly fell in love with each other and craved each other constantly. But there was a drawback to dating Marshall. You hadn't made that step to move in with each other yet, as much as you wanted too. So, you went to one another's place. It was usually Marshall coming over to your flat though, after he got off from his shift at the station. You would make him dinner and the two of you would cuddle up under a blanket on the couch with a glass of wine, or more specifically, a glass of wine for you and a glass of whiskey for him, to watch a movie or one of the shows the two of you had become interested in together.

“Walter.” You giggled, shifting beneath the heavy comforter the two of you were under, trying to watch Peaky Blinders.

“What?” He husked back, turning his head into the side of your face, moaning softly, while his hand squeezed the inside of your thigh again.

“Keep that naughty hand to yourself, Captain.” You teased, turning your face into his.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Marshall replied, feigning innocence.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, smelling the sharp honey and caramel of the whiskey on his breath. “What's this?” You asked, rubbing your legs together against his hand.

“Oh, you mean that hand.” He smirked, gently nudging his nose against yours. “I don't know how it got there, but since it is.” He said, pushing it up to cup you through the thin, purple fabric of your panties.

Your gasp melted into a deep whimper, as Marshall started to rub you, watching you through hooded and lusty blue eyes. You turned, pressing your back against the armrest of the couch and opened your legs, giving Marshall full access to your dripping womanhood. He reached under the quilt, not removing it, to keep the chill of the room off of you, as he all but tore your underwear off your body. Tossing them absently over his shoulder and behind the couch, Marshall's hand was back on your privates within a millisecond.

“Oh Christ.” You mewled, arching your back against his hand, his middle finger slipping between your slick folds as he caressed you, teasing you. “Walt, please!” You begged him, pushing the heel of one of your feet into the top of his thigh, nudging his leg impatiently.

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head at you, curving that evil digit into your canal. “I haven't seen you in two days, babe.” He panted, licking his lips. “I want to enjoy it.”

“Then take your fucking shirt off, Marshall!” You barked, outraged and worked up as the tip of his finger grazed your sweet spot.

Marshall laughed, “That requires me to take my hand off of you.” He pointed out, amused by your situation.

You dropped your head back on the couch arm, then sat up, shivering as Marshall's finger reached different angles, and grabbed at his shirt. Bunching the knitted material in your hands, you yanked on it until you managed to pull it off over his head, then tossed it in his face for extra drama. Making him chuckle and toss it back at you, before driving his finger deep into your spot. Caught off guard, your hand flew out, clawing into the exposed skin at the top of his shoulder and leaving very angry crescents behind in their wake.

“Lord have mercy, Marshall!” You cried out, your head flying back, while you rocked on his hand.

“Lay back.” He purred at you, planting a kiss to your fingers. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You always do, Donut.” You teased, laying back again, tugging the blanket up over you as you did.

Marshall blushed slightly at your nickname for him. “I try, Angel.” He replied, gently working his finger inside of you, crooking it to tease your walls, knowing all the places to hit.

Your toes curled and you moaned softly, eyes rolling shut as you rutted against his hand, rolling your hips. Marshall looked at your face, a soft smirk on his own, seeing the pure pleasure you were in. He slipped in a second and started rubbing your clit with his thumb, drawing out a loud sigh from you. The want to keep that look on your face forever was so strong inside of Marshall. You were relaxed in the essence of pleasure and bliss, with no care in the world, other than what his fingers were doing to you.

“Walter, please!” You begged him, brows drawing together as you looked down your face at him.

Smirking, Walter freed his fingers from inside of you and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into his lap and a heady kiss. He moved to the edge of the couch and stood, taking you with him, supporting you against his body as he carried you to the bedroom, one big paw rubbing firm circles over your back to keep the flat's chill away, until getting there.

“Why do you keep it so cold in here?” Marshall commented, resting you on the bed.

“I don't know. Guess I'm just used to the chill of the hospital. I don't really pay attention to it, until you show up.” You replied, giggling as you pushed the blankets to the foot of the bed.

“I should start a fire.” He said, glancing at the enclosed fireplace, in the corner of your room, as he stood at the side of your bed, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his tree-trunk thighs.

“You already started one.” You cooed at him, licking your lips at the titanic tent in the front of his boxer briefs, reaching out to palm it through the black material. “A big one, Bear.” You hummed, feeling the hot beast that lived within throb against your palm.

Marshall's eyes fluttered back into their sockets as you fondled him, pressing himself against your hand, growling deep in his throat and chest. You smirked up at him, leaning forward to press your lips to his hairy belly. Smoothing your palm upwards, you curled your fingers around the elastic waistband and slowly peeled his boxers down. Even with anticipation, your eyes grew and you gasped silently, when Marshall's thick and veiny, cut cock sprang heavily free from the confines of the garment.

Reaching into your bedside drawer, you removed a square object from inside and tossed it on one of the pillows, before looking at Marshall.

“Come to me.” You whispered, removing your shirt and heading up the bed.

Looking you over, like a hungry wolf, Marshall stalked up the bed towards you. Moving over you and nuzzling his face into your neck, he nibbled and kissed at the skin there and at your shoulder, while his hands smoothed down your sides, touching every inch of your body. You felt the rub of Marshall's beard as he left love-bites you'd be feeling during your shift later tomorrow. But that didn't bother you, you wanted to feel Walter with you. Always. You had one hand tugging at the curls at the back of his head and the other clawing into one cheek of his rump, as he grabbed at your knees, shoving them wide open to buck against you, his cock dripping against your slickness, mixing with the ultimate finale.

It didn't take love for Marshall's thought of lighting a fire to become nonsensical, the two of you were heated and glistening with sweat, from your combined actions and feelings. Perspiration pearled down Marshall's vast back as he pulled away from you, only slightly, his darkened blue eyes meeting yours in a hungry and sultry gaze, that sent a chill so powerful through your burning body, goose-flesh was raised.

“Mine.” He growled, in a deep pant.

“All yours.” You gulped back, nodding and sucking your lip between your teeth.

Marshall sat up between your legs, and you grabbed at the item you had tossed on the pillow earlier. It was a condom. You tore it open and took out the opaque-red and lubricated rubber, tossing the packaging carelessly to the floor, while Marshall grasped himself at the root, the head of his member changing a shade of purple, to hold his thick cock steady. You carefully rolled the protection down over his length, marveled at how it looked, snug over the throbbing veins. Wrapping your hand around the head of Walter's manhood, you stroked it downward, ensuring the sleeve was secure in place, before reaching up to grab him by the shoulder and pull him down into a heated kiss.

While you kissed, Marshall lined himself up with your weeping entrance. It never seemed mattered how many times the two of you were intimate, you never quite grew accustomed to Marshall's sheer size. Even with the help of being aroused and lubricated, there was always that initial stretch of him easing inside of you, of his girth reshaping you for the billionth time in the two years you had been dating. But it quickly subsided into something so marvelously euphoric, that you couldn't help the soft smile that crossed your lips or the curl of your toes.

He wrapped his arms around you, pressing you against his body, an arm encircling your waist and the other around your shoulders, his knees planted into the mattress, as he rocked into you. The wood headboard smacked against the wall behind it, keeping time with each thrust. Thankfully, it was an outer wall, so your next door neighbor wasn't too bothered by the noise, and he was used to your and Marshall's love making, by now.

Good and patient, Preston.

“Christ, Marshall!” You cried out, your walls kneading around him, feeling every furious movement that begged his manhood to release his magic and bring you both into a world of unimaginable bliss.

“Fuck, babe.” He panted back, his hot breath wafting over the skin of your face.

He pressed his temple against yours, letting out small whimpers of effort and moans of pleasure in random intervals. His thrusts lost rhythm and became rougher, as he neared his climax, your own aiding the effort. Marshall throbbed inside of your quivering walls and you felt the muscles of his stomach clench and become rock hard. He made his tell-tale sound, a soft, groaning sigh, as he unloaded inside of the protective barrier between you. Nonetheless, your slick canal struggled to keep a hold of Marshall's unloading and still working cock, feeling it surge inside of you. Your back arched, pushing yourself up against his clenched stomach, nails racking down his sweaty back.

“Marshall!” You cried out, shuttering with each wave of pleasure that washed through you. “Oh god, Marshall.” You whimpered, slowly lowering yourself back down, spent. “I love you.” You sighed softly, after a few moments to catch your breath.

Marshall rolled you both onto your sides, tucking your head under his chin and against his chest. “I love you too.” He whispered back, hugging you hard against him, fingers tangling in the back of your hair.

You struggled to stay awake, not wanting to fall asleep, knowing what it meant, if you did. But you were spent from a long shift, the previous night, little sleep and the exhausted pull of your love making. Soon enough, you were snoring into Marshall's collarbone. But, when you woke with a jolt a few hours later, your heart thundering in your chest, a good enough fire in the fireplace to keep your room warm, but not roast you alive, however you were alone.

“Marshall?” You called out, hoping—praying, he was just watching tv in the living room like he did, on rare occasions. “Donut!” You yelled out a little louder, turning to grab your shirt off the floor and padded into the living room, but found it cold, quiet and empty.

You sighed, realizing Marshall had left. Turning, you went down the hall to the guest room bath and discovered the mirror was still foggy. Marshall would go there to take a shower, before he left, so he wouldn't wake you by using your master bathroom. Usually, when he showered at your place, it meant he was heading straight back into the station to work some more, without bothering to go home. You wondered how many hours your boyfriend had slept, before sneaking off into the night.

“Just one night, Walter Marshall.” You whimpered, stripping your shirt off as you headed to bed again. “That's all I ask of you. Stay one fucking night with me, without vanishing like some sort of ghost.” You sighed, crawling under the blankets.

Marshall scrubbed at his eyes, while trying to focus on the police report in front of him, Harper had given him a new case to work on. It was a double homicide with a few lead suspects, but no solid proof on which of them it could possibly be. He was hitting his wit's end, three shifts, with a four hour sleep between two of them, crashed out on the small couch in his office. He'd only spoken to you through text messages through that time. The two of you had tried to meet up for lunch, but one of his suspects had been hauled into the station and he had to cancel it, so he could interrogate them.

A soft knock sounded on his office door and Commissioner Harper popped in. “How's the case going?” He asked, depositing himself into a chair across from Marshall.

The Brit drew in a deep breath and let it out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That well, huh?” The older law enforcement officer chuckled. “When was the last time you went home?” He inquired, seeing the dark circles under Marshall's bloodshot blue eyes.

Marshall looked at his watch. “Nine hours ago, to shower.” He replied, shooting Harper a look.

“You need to head home.” Harper snorted, shaking his head. “Don't you have a new lady in your life?” He said, lifting a brow at Walter, critically. “You shouldn't be keeping hours at the station, like you were when you were a bachelor, Marshall. I'm sure it drives her fucking crazy.”

“I know.” Marshall sighed heavily, knowing Harper was right. “It does.”

You had scolded Marshall several times about working himself into the ground and not getting a proper night's sleep. He wasn't a bachelor anymore, preferring to be at the station, then sitting alone, in the deafening emptiness of his flat. He definitely was a husband in the middle of getting a divorce, where he'd rather work eighteen hour shifts, against the alternative of going home to another argument or silent treatment from his soon-to-be ex-wife and making his daughter's life a nightmare.

He had you now, and was still acting like he didn't.

“You're right.” He said, flipping the case file closed and locking it away in his desk. “I am going to take the rest of the day off.” He nodded, stretching to his feet.

“And tomorrow.” Harper added, giving Marshall a stern look.

Marshall stared at him for a long moment, before slowly nodding. “Tomorrow as well.” He conceded, grabbing his jacket from the hook at the back of his office door.

“Hey.” Harper paused, as he stepped out into the hall, turning back to Marshall. “Surprise her. Women love that stuff.” He smirked, giving him a teasing wink before heading off to his own office.

“Yeah.” Marshall nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip.

Thankfully, he knew you had the day off, which made surprising you all the easier to do.

Marshall stopped by his place first, taking a quick shower and changed. Washed up and freshly changed, Marshall went to a small floral shop to get a bouquet of your favorite flowers, then crossed town to your takeaway spot, ordering your favorite dish with something to hit your sweet tooth, before finally heading over to your flat.

Situating things in his hands, Marshall knocked on your door and waited for you to answer, his heart pounding for a reason he couldn't put his finger on. At least, until the door cracked open and you peeked out, then his pulse calmed.

“Hey, Sugar butt.” He grinned at you, enjoying the surprised expression on your face.

You swung the door open, excited to see Marshall. “What are you doing here, Donut? I thought you had to work!” You said, bouncing on your toes towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I got some sound advice, and I decided to take it.” He replied, bending his head to kiss the top of yours. “So, I have the rest of the day off, and was told I'm taking tomorrow off as well.” He told you, holding up the bag of food and your bouquet of flowers.

“There's no one else I want to spend it with.”

“What about Fae?” You asked, your tone teasing.

Marshall rolled his eyes at you. “I'm far too boring and uncool.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“Well, you're entertaining and cool enough for me, Donut.” You giggled, pulling him into your flat.

“Thank the heavens for that.” He smiled, letting you drag him inside and into the kitchen.

“What did you get me?” You asked, dying to know what he had in the takeaway bag.

“Things you eat.” Marshall smirked, side eyeing you. “Hey, hands off!” He chuckled, batting your hand away from the bag. “Go pour us something to drink, Sugar butt!” He said, popping you on the butt and kissed your neck.

“My sweet detective, you drank all your Rich & Rare whiskey, the last time you were here.” You informed him, giving him a gentle pat on the chest.

“Oh fuck, I did.” Marshall sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

You smiled, moving around him to go into a cabinet. “Luckily for you, you have a very thoughtful partner.” You said, pulling down a bottle of the amber colored spirit. “Who noticed it and bought another bottle for you.”

Marshall turned around, cracking a smile at you. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face.

You nuzzled his hand for a moment, before answering. “You got shot.” You deadpanned.

“Right.” He nodded, taking the bottle from you, then turned back to the food, pulling it out and putting it on the counter, before taking down plates.

You took down glasses and set one of them next to the plates, before grabbing your chilled bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, wiggling your brows at Walter as he moved by you for the fridge himself. Winking at you, Marshall grabbed a black case from inside the freezer and turned back, smirking as he found you already nibbling on your food. Shaking his head, he set the case on the counter and opened it, before cracking the seal on the bottle of whiskey, pouring some into his glass.

“So, how was your day?” He asked, opening the case and lifting a brow in your direction.

“It's been good.” You answered, getting your takeaway on the plate. “Slept a whole extra hour and a half.” You snorted, smirking to yourself. “Took a bath, instead of a shower, which felt incredible, and started to catch up with all of the shows I'm behind on.”

“Sounds like a day off well spent.” Marshall nodded, pulling out a pair of small tongs and removed a medium sized, chilled, black whiskey stone that was nestled inside and placed it in his glass. “I hope mine goes as well.”

“Well, we can make that happen.” You told him, holding a fork out to him.

Marshall grinned at you, taking the fork. “Yeah, we can.”

The two of you took your food and drinks to the couch, finding something to watch together, while you ate. You smirked, however, watching your Donut doze on and off, his plate balanced on his knee. Setting your plate on the coffee table, you gently took his and set it beside yours, you grabbed his hand and coaxed him up to his feet.

“Mmm.” He grunted, responding to your nudges towards the bedroom.

“Ssshh.” You cooed back, not wanting him to stir from the soft doze he'd fallen into.

Getting him to your room, you lightly pushed him back, to sit on your bed, stifling your giggle at his 'umph' as he landed. Kneeling down, you untied the laces of his boots, biting your lip as you gingerly pulled them off, but Marshall barely stirred as they came free from his feet. You managed to get his shirt off, before laying him back on the bed and covering him up.

“Sleep tight, detective.” You whispered, stroking the curls off his forehead for a moment, listening to his deep and easy breathing.

Tip-toeing out of the room, you gathered up the hardly touched plates and wrapped them up, storing them away in the refrigerator for later on, carefully poured the remaining whiskey Marshall hadn't polished off into the bottle, rinsing the stones, slipping them back into their case and into the freezer. Rubbing your face, you stripped and crawled into bed with Marshall, snuggling in against his side with a smile, excited to be falling asleep with him, knowing there was a high likelihood he'd be there, when you woke up.

What you hadn't expected was how you woke up with Marshall.

You were too deeply asleep to even dream, comfortable and warm. It was pure heaven, that you were hardly aware of the loud bang, likely someone slamming a door shut or the lid of a dumpster being dropped; nothing that was significant enough to draw you from your slumber. Nothing, but the jolt and gasp beside you. You started to pull to the surface of consciousness, struggling to understand what was going on, before you felt a pair of abnormally strong tentacles wrap around your frame. Jerking you against something solid, the air was knocked out of your lungs. While you were dragged over the edge of the bed, your stomach clenched as you dropped to the floor, crying out at the force of the sudden stop.

Realization flooded you, feeling the huffing, puffing and mountainous body of Marshall move over you, one arm still crushing around your middle to pin you against him, one thick thigh wedged between yours. If you didn't know Walter as well as you did, you probably would have started screaming at the position he had you in.

But you knew him, and you knew there was something deeply wrong with your boyfriend. Even your nursing instincts were going off for something being out of place. Marshall was panting like a wounded animal, his nostrils flaring with each breath, every muscle in his body was rock hard and rigid, but he was trembling. His teeth were gritted, like he was in pain and his blue eyes were wide and on high alert, as if he was waiting for something to happen.

“Marshall?” You whispered, apprehensive to make a sound, almost afraid that he'd snap at you, but his arm only tightened, making you hiss and wiggle underneath him, but he only held you tighter. “All right.” You groaned, relaxing to rest your forehead against the carpet, taking a deep breath of relief when his arm eased against your stomach.

You racked your brain, he was a horror hardened Detective for the Manitoba police force, what could cause Marshall to react to this extreme? Could this be a flashback from Simon?

You took a deep breath, knowing you had to help Marshall out of this, to let him know he was in a safe place. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for whatever reaction he gave you. Wiggling your arm out from underneath of your body, ignoring his attempt to keep you still, you propped yourself up the best you could under his weight.

“Marshall.” You said, keeping your voice calm and as if nothing was wrong, reaching back to rest your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It's all right, Walt. It's just a flashback.” You told him, pressing your head against his chest. “I'm all right. We're all right.” You reassured him, moving your hand to his neck, beginning to massage the tight muscles there.

“We're safe. There's nothing and no one here to harm us. I promise.”

“Unless, you look in my closet and notice the alarming ratio of scrub outfits to regular ones.” You said, making yourself giggle, hoping a light joke would cause a crack in the wall of his PTSD, since Marshall had always enjoyed your sense of humor.

But Walter didn't seem to react to any of it, though you didn't allow yourself to become discouraged.

“What can I do?” You cooed at him, wondering what was going through his mind. “Please, tell me how I can help you, Donut?”

Marshall abruptly stopped trembling against you and seemed to relax on top of you, but didn't move any farther. You took the win, patiently waiting to see if he made any further improvements. They took several more moments, with you still massaging his neck and just laying there with him, but Marshall finally seemed to regain some sense of himself.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled, moving off of you at last.

You floundered for a moment, sitting up to rest your back against the side of your bed, unsure how to reply. “Mar-” You started, only to have him jump to his feet and storm into your en suite, slamming and locking the door behind him. “Okay.” You sighed, nodding curtly at the door. “You need space.” You said, to the air, then pulled yourself up and pulled on a pair of shorts shorts with a tank top.

Going out to the kitchen, you made yourself a cup of tea, pausing for a moment as you carried it out of the kitchen to fortify it with a small splash of Marshall's whiskey, before going to sit in the living room. You stared at the turn off tv, regarding your blurry reflection as you thought about what had happened in the bedroom with Marshall, then abruptly locked himself in the bathroom. The shower had turned on not long afterwards, making you suppose he was taking one to wake himself up and clear his head. You were still worried about him though, he had just turned into a statue after yanking you off the bed like that, forcing you to be still, like he was afraid something would happen, if either of you moved.

An hour and all your hot water later, Marshall emerged from your bedroom, his eyes pointed at the floor as he stood just passed the doorway. You set your empty cup on the coffee table and turned to look at him over the back of the couch, his wet curls were combed back off his forehead, making him look almost boyish.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled again, folding his arms tightly over his chest, still refusing to look at you.

“I know you're sorry, Marshall.” You whispered back at him, your heart aching. “Please, sit down with me?” You begged, patting the cushion beside you.

Marshall lingered in place for a moment, before shuffling over to you and sitting down, arms still crossed. You stared at the circular and slightly puckered scar just below his collarbone, the purplish skin stood out in stark contrast to the pale skin of his chest, lightly hidden under the dark fur that covered his torso.

“I'm sorry, if I scared you.” Marshall elaborated more on his apology. “I also understand, if you don't want to see me anymore.” He added, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

“What?” You giggled, surprised. “Why would I break up with you, Marshall?”

He finally looked at you, brows creased like it was obvious. “Because of what just happened.” He growled, his jaw muscles flexing. “I could have hur-” His eyes searched you for any marks, an almost frantic look coming into them.

“You didn't hurt me, Walter.” You assured him. “You startled the hell out of me, with that wake up. You've caused me to be very concerned. But hurt me, you have not.”

“This time.” He mumbled, relaxing back into his broodiness.

“Tell me what happened, Donut.” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “I know you had a flashback. Why? Was it because of Simon?”

Marshall sighed, bouncing his leg. “It wasn't Simon.” He replied, licking his lips. “Before I was a homicide detective, I was in the British Army, I served three tours.” He paused and regarded you, deciding it was time to give you everything.

“I met Angela after I finished boot camp. She was in London for a holiday. We hit it off, and started a long distance relationship. I went on my first tour and everything was reasonably fine. I rose through the ranks quickly through my tours, I initially intended to be career Army. But between the second tour and my last one, Angie got pregnant with Fae. Which complicated things. Angie didn't want to raise her away from her parents in Manitoba, she also didn't want me being in the British Army, since it meant I'd be stationed overseas, away from them and being deployed constantly.”

“That is quite the situation.” You nodded, folding your legs on the cushion.

“It was.” Marshall nodded, his eyes distant. “My second tour had been rough, it was the first time I was given command of a squad of men. We got through it and all my men got home. But that's when some of my PTSD started. Loud noises would make me start or put me on edge. It was my last deployment, when I didn't renew my contract, so I could move to Canada with Angie and Fae, that it went through the roof. My men and I got pinned down by a group of rebels and I ended up losing two of them, despite the effort to keep them alive.” He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing on an imaginary spot on the rug.

“Marshall?” You whispered, reaching out to rest your hand on his knee, feeling the muscle there jump slightly.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, his gaze clearing. “That's when I started having reactive flashbacks, like tonight. At first, Angie took them in stride. I thought they'd be better if I was back in 'that environment', so I joined the Manitoba SWAT team, and it worked for a short time. But Angie worried that was just as dangerous as being in the Army and didn't want Fae losing me.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “She had a point. SWAT could be just as dangerous at times. Get a person in the corner, when they're desperate, it doesn't matter if you're in a war-zone. They'll do anything to get out of that spot. Including killing you.”

“So, what happened?” You asked, biting your lip.

“I transferred to homicide.” He chuckled, smirking like he couldn't believe it himself. “Anyway, over time, Angie couldn't take my flashbacks anymore and we slept in separate bedrooms for the last four years of our marriage. They were a catalyst for our divorce.” He admitted, pressing his lips together, pained. “She even used them to gain full custody of Fae. Like, I was some sort of danger to my own daughter.”

“I don't think you're dangerous, Marshall.” You confessed, moving closer to him.

Marshall huffed at you. “Yeah, that's because I won't allow myself to fall asleep around you.”

“This is why you ghost me after we've made love?” You asked, looking at him wide eyed.

“Yes.” He nodded, staring back at you. “I'm terrified of something like that happening and losing you because of it.” He barked, jerking a hand towards the bedroom. “That I'll have an episode and I'll hurt you or it's just too much baggage for you to take.”

“Oh, you sweet Donut.” You giggled at him, grinning. “When was the last time you even had a flashback, before tonight?”

“I don't know!” He barked, raking a hand through his damp hair. “Two or three years.”

“That's not bad!” You said, wrapping your arms around his. “And we made it through this one.”

“I don't want you to make it through them.” He whined at you, looking like a hurt puppy.

“Walter Donut Marshall, I helped you get through being shot.” You grinned at him, stubbornly. “I'm pretty darn sure, I can help you through more flashbacks. You're not going to scare me away. I'm not going to break up with you. I love you, you silly Detective.” You cupped his bearded face in your palms.

“Stop running away from me, let me love you, shadows and all.”

“I have some dark shadows.” He whispered, turning his head to kiss your hand.

“Don't we all, Donut? Don't we all!” You giggled, kissing him soundly on the mouth.

[sapphire-weapon]

Talking about her writing... the point to me is that the main theme of the series, bioterrorism, is such a heavy and complex issue, so a moraly grey character would require the same complexity as well and i never felt that the writing staff perceived this in the original timeline. is straight up "oh she is in fact a mercenary, but see, she never really gives the samples to the bad guys even thought we dont explain how the fuck she pays her bills like this and never faced the consequences of betraying this psychos", and that's so fucking boring, nonsense and frustating.

So i'm really glad with remake timeline at least trying to develop some nuances over this, and i kind of understand people like the anon of a few days ago because it's so annoying get her stans just ignoring the fact that why the hell there would be a redemption arc setting like this if she didn't made any mistake.

i mean let's be honest here tho, resident evil has literally never treated bioterrorism as a complex issue. it's very black and white in the RE universe. bioterrorism exists so that we can have the main protagonists do cool action guy shit against big monsters.

but ada does give the samples to the bad guys -- at least, on the occasions that she actually gets them. she would have still given the G-virus to wesker, if she'd had it. you'd also have to believe that she's also gotten other shit for him over the years, considering he actually goes back and contracts her again for the plaga even after she fucked up with G. somewhere in the six years in between, ada "redeemed" herself in wesker's eyes and got back into his good graces.

and she did give not one, but two plaga samples to simmons (the one from RE4 and the one from damnation).

the issue is that we don't know why.

we don't know why she worked for wesker for years and years. we don't know why she gave plagas to simmons. it seems a little counterintuitive, since she gives the samples to these fucking guys and then helps leon clean up the mess that's caused after she hands the shit over.

either she's actually legitimately unintelligent and thinks that simmons isn't going to do anything bad with the plagas (which i do not believe is the case), or she thinks that because simmons is the US's NSA that leon will somehow sniff it out and it'll be fine (which he then doesn't actually do, so that begs the question why she continues to rely on him), or she's been in some way acting under duress this entire time (LOL), or she's literally just in it for the money and has a fucked up "i'll deal with it later" mindset.

the correct answer is:

none of the above, because she's literally just a dragon lady stereotype who's there to look sexy and drag leon around by the libido.

it seems like remake is gearing up to turn her into a character that's like... she's been doing this for so long that she just filters it all out as noise and literally has never had any reason to think about what she's doing any deeper than "do job, get paid" until leon inspires a change of heart in her and she snaps back into reality, but by then it's too late.

which is cool. i hope they follow through with that. because her character makes absolutely no sense on its own in OG in a context divorced from leon.

[theliterateape]

The Archeology of a Life

by Don Hall

"It is only with greatest care that memory can be kept from becoming a prison or a gallows." — The Orville

The giant area rug isn’t mine. This rug is her grandfather’s rug. It’ll be the last thing rolled up.

I’ve moved a lot in my lifetime. The process of culling through the barnacles that follow us from place to place can be bittersweet but necessary. This is familiar.

I’ve already purged every single photo of her. I don’t know if this is healthy, this cleansing of reminders of the past, but it’s the way I’ve done it with every other failed relationship so there’s no reason to doubt the act. I don't even know if the label failed is even appropriate. Certainly, if the promise was for life, they are failures. Maybe a more realistic way of seeing these adventures is to call them failed attempts with the emphasis on the attempt part. We tried, hard, but it didn't make it past it's sell-by date.

I don’t have a single photo of my first marriage or wife, only a few theater photos of my second, none from the four year non-marriage, and now nothing from my third marriage. To quote John Irving, it’s better to imagine something than it is to remember something. Pictures force the kind of remembrance that is diminishing, a forced revisitation of good times had that reopen the wounds of betrayal.

I look around and can only find a few tokens of these four big relationship attempts and I think that’s just fine. A leather jacket. A Las Vegas mug. A copy of a Tucker Carlson book signed by the author to infamous Weather Underground leader Bill Ayers signed to me as his snarky birthday joke. A quilt. A few pipes.

Existing reminders I can't get rid of are the tattoos. The first of eleven my mom got me just after the second divorce. It's a theater quote in German as representation that she and I were active in DADA theater for years. The Hunter S. Thompson quote refers directly to the non-marriage. One line of poetry written by the third. On my back right shoulder is the botched sixth anniversary tattoo she conceived of and had executed by a guy who was tremendously sexy but couldn't speak a word of English and has what looks like a young Donald Trump in a half shell rather than the intended baby. I can't see it so I don't think too much about but it is a great story in the vein of a Breaking Bad episode.

The IKEA shelves come down. We bought them when we moved into our Vegas apartment. She fought me, pouted in the store because I was going to get them anyway. I'm keeping them because they're cool and will fit nicely in a studio apartment somewhere else.

The artwork comes down. Like the rug, I'll drop some of this over into her patio before I leave town. When she initially moved out, she asked if I wanted a few pieces she purchased or was gifted while we lived in Chicago. At the time I did. Now, as I purge as many reminders we had ever met, I've reconsidered. The idea of eventually cracking open the moving pod to set up camp somewhere and being punched in the face with art she brought to the relationship isn't appealing.

My Bennigan’s wall of keepsakes and nonsense including mementos of trips taken and experiences had all go into a tub for the next time I have my own place. The devil mask given to me by Chuck Palahniuk. The Eiffel Tower I bought in Paris on our first anniversary. The London Bridge I bought in London on our fifth anniversary. The bobblehead of myself my mom had made. The ink drawing of Snake Plissken Joe gave me. Wild Wild West playing cards.

I'm like an archeologist of my own dig. I find in a tub that hasn't been looked at since maybe before I left Chicago two of my high school year books. I peruse them, remembering that I'll be, at least temporarily, moving back to Kansas and perhaps seeing some of those folks from forty years ago. A pair of bowls I purchased when I moved to Edgewater nearly ten years past. A mug given to me by Bill Kurtis. Brass knuckles I found years ago in Chicago.

Coming home from a show one night, I look down as I was walking to my door and saw, glistening in the rain, a true blue pair of authentic brass knuckles. Illegal in the city, someone must have been running from the cops or just ditched them in a hurry but there they were.

I picked them up, wiped them dry and stared in the palm of my hand at this archaic but still potent piece of metal designed for 1930's toughs to pummel the shit out of other thugs.

Maybe it was happenstance, a random encounter with an object in a world filled with such things. Perhaps it was destiny. And possibly it was the strange, comical Loki of the Mind giving me a clue to the jigsaw puzzle. I keep it on my Bennigan's wall next to the switchblade someone gave me as a gift. Not because I'll ever likely use it—those days are long past me now and thankfully so.

Not as a weapon but as a reminder. As I grow older and over halfway into my fifth decade on this tortured rock, as I spend my days writing and wondering, these knuckles marked A-R-M-Y across the surface are a reminder that I may yet still have some fights to fight. I may just yet have some life I have neglected to live.

"The book says, "We might be through with the past, but the past ain't through with us." — Jimmy Gator

I suppose I do my level best to erase certain aspects of my past. As I head to Kansas, I'll embrace the beginning again. Back home. The launching pad from which I shot out to Chicago in 1989 and, in many ways, that was a magnificent decision.

I'm at a crossroads. I have some choices to make. Which direction will I follow? What will the costs be and will the trade-off for my time be enough to keep me from wasting it in the pursuit of things unworthy of the marvels of life?

The overwhelming sense of leaving the pain in the dust, the refusal to suffer, and the new stuff I'll add to my tubs of stuff is nothing if not hopeful.

[solemnly-mischievous]

Could pls you write something where the marauders and you are taking about your safe word and boundaries?!

Thanks! <33

hell yeah! remember kids, if you're gonna engage in Practices of Dominant and Submissive Dynamics, these talks are always very important and essential and good. consent is sexy. stay safe. all that.

also, i'd never claim to be an expert on the topics they talk about - if i get anything off or word anything poorly, do tell me and i'll amend that.

anyway also the things they put on their hard limit list are not off the table for future fics, so keep that in mind :)

Contains: Fluff, discussion of bodily fluids & cnc, mentions of degradation and praise

Word count: 1.5K

------

It's about one AM in the Gryffindor common room, and all your housemates are asleep—the only sound you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the sound of pages turning as Remus flips through his book.

You're laying in Remus' lap, his fingers combing absentmindedly through your hair and massaging your scalp. It feels so good.

"Oi—watch the cakes—"

"You watch your stupid feet, Prongs, you're stepping on my cloak—"

"—I swear to god if you drop the pumpkin juice, I'll throw you and your bloody cloak into the fire—"

"Merlin, James, shut up, you're so loud—"

You hear Remus huff a soft laugh and you smile along: Your boyfriends are many things, but stealthy and discreet are not one of them. One would think the infamous pranksters of Hogwarts would be better at sneaking around in the dead of night—but then again, who needs to be light on their feet when there are charms and Invisibility Cloaks?

James and Sirius enter the common room as quietly as they can manage—which is to say, not that quiet at all—each bearing a large plate full of midnight snacks and drinks they've retrieved from the kitchen. (The house elves are always more than happy to see them.)

"Aw, look at them," Sirius murmurs to James, and he nods, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you and Remus. It's certainly a heartwarming scene, and you'd be content to stay there forever, but something's missing.

"C'mere," you whisper to the boys, holding your arms out and making grabby hands. "Cuddle."

They're more than happy to oblige, setting the plates on the table in front of the couches and piling on, Sirius leaning against Remus' shoulder and James sitting on the floor in front of you and Remus. You reach out and tug at his curls affectionately—he leans into the touch.

"We brought you your favorite chocolate cakes," James murmurs to you. "The elves made more just for you—even they know you love them. Oh, and Remus—there's pumpkin juice for you."

"Thank you," Remus says warmly, ruffling James' hair as he reaches by to grab a goblet. "Did you say hi to the elves for me?"

"Yeah," Sirius says, "they miss you and they're going to file for divorce if you don't visit them soon."

"Divorce? From all of them?" Remus' tone is laughing. "I don't think I could handle the legal fees."

"Who'd get custody?" you wonder.

"Besides, Moony knows he's married to us, if not legally but in spirit. When you think about it, Moony's a homewrecker," James jokes, and Sirius cackles in delight.

Your eyelids droop as Remus scratches along your scalp lightly, and Sirius catches you. "Hey, hey, wait, we're not sleeping yet. We have things to talk about."

"Talk about them faster," you mumble, and James laughs.

"Alright, alright," Remus says amiably. "We'll make it fast so you can get to sleep soon, alright? But you're gonna need to be coherent and awake right now, okay?"

"Fine," you whine, and you ease into a sitting position so you aren't tempted to fall asleep right there.

"Good girl," Sirius murmurs, and you shiver involuntarily.

"Okay, none of that right now—clear heads, all of us," Remus says. He looks at you and gives you a small smile. "There'll be plenty of time for that later."

"So how do we start?" Sirius asks. "Do we just... talk about what works, what doesn't?"

"I think we should start with the safeword." Remus hums thoughtfully. "You guys know the stoplight system?"

You and James shake your heads; Sirius nods.

"Green for go on, yellow for slow down, red for stop," Remus explains. "It's important to check in consistently, so we can be sure everything's alright."

"Wait, so yellow is..." You trail off.

"Yellow is, er, we don't need to stop, but I'm not one hundred percent comfortable or confident in what we're doing right now, so can we slow down and talk about it or change what we're doing?" Sirius explains, and you nod.

"Ah." You think about it. "Right, yeah, I think the stoplight system sounds fine."

"Same," James says, and Sirius voices his agreement.

In all your time at Hogwarts, the early years especially, never in a million years would you have thought you'd be here right now—in a polyamorous relationship with the troublemakers of the grade, discussing safewords and kink negotiations.

But what's life without a few surprises?

"We can all use the colors," Remus adds, "even if we're not the one subbing. Anyone can check in at anytime. Okay?"

Once that's been established, he pushes forward with, "Okay, so nitty-gritty: What are our boundaries? What do we not want to touch with a ten-foot pole?"

"No bodily fluids," James puts forth, "except for, well, you know. Just spit and come, I think. No blood or piss or anything like that."

You nod. "I don't wanna draw blood. Pain is okay, like bruises and bitemarks or the like, but I don't know about actual... wounds and stuff. For now, at least."

Remus nods. "Absolutely."

"Oh," Sirius says, looking vaguely bashful—which is a sight, because the Sirius Black, looking shy? "Um. I like to dom, right? Like usually, I do. But when I switch and sub, er, I don't like to be degraded. I love doing the degrading, but I don't know about being the degraded one."

Knowing Sirius' past, you understand completely. The rest of the Marauders nod as well, and James shifts towards Sirius, leaning against his leg in a comforting gesture. Sirius smiles at him, soft and affectionate.

"How about you, Moony?" you ask Remus.

"Hm." He thinks about it for a second. "I don't think I would want to do consensual non-consent."

"What's that?" James pokes at Remus' leg.

"Like, when you agree beforehand that a scene is going to be... Non-consensual. Usually, it's so the sub can pretend to struggle and protest and fight back and such. It's a fantasy, kinda like a coping mechanism, and I get it, and I respect people who do like it, but I don't think it's for me."

"So, all in all," Sirius summarizes, "No bodily fluids, no blood, no forced fantasies."

"Sums it up about right," James agrees. "And no degradation for when you're subbing."

"Yep."

"If at any time we think of something that we want to add to the hard-limit list," Remus says, "just say it. Even if it's the middle of a scene or anything, consider this a priority."

Sounds of agreement and understand come from the three of you.

"Also, just for a semi-reference," Sirius says, "I'm a switch, with a lean for being dominant. Remus is... I think, just dominant?"

Remus inclines his head. "I've never had the urge to sub, yet. Again, things might change."

Personally, you thought the idea of Remus on his knees, begging for the three of you, was very appealing, but that's up to Remus to decide.

"I'm also a switch, but I don't know if I have a lean," James pipes up. "I enjoy both equally, it just kind of depends on the moment."

Sirius nods, then looks at you. You're in the middle of leaning over James' head to nab a chocolate cake from the platter—the epitome of grace and dignity.

"I'm a switch," you say, chocolate cake in hand, "with a submissive lean. Like, I think... I think one day, I'd like to try to dom. Maybe. But usually I'm more than happy to sub."

"What a well-balanced group we are," James comments, and Remus snickers.

You yawn right on cue, and Sirius laughs. "Getting too tired, are we?"

"Yeah, but! I was absolutely clearheaded through all that. Fully concentrated. No distractions."

James eyes your chocolate cake.

"One distraction."

"I suppose we can talk about other things another night," Remus says, as your eyelids flutter again with tiredness.

"Other things?" James asks.

"Yeah. Specific kinks, stuff we'd like to try. Rules, corresponding punishments..." The werewolf winks at you. "Rewards."

"I like rewards," you murmur sleepily.

"For another night," Sirius agrees, yawning as well. He looks sadly at the two plates of goodies stacked on the table. "We got all that food for nothing."

"Nah, we can bring it back up to our dorm and charm it so it doesn't go bad," James says. "No worries."

"Right, right. Alright, you grab one plate, Remus grabs the other, I'll take her back up."

"Hey, why do you get to take her?"

"Because I said it first," Sirius maintains, like the dignified adult he is, and scoops you up before any of the other Marauders can protest.

You fall asleep that night on James' bed, in his warm embrace and surrounding by the calming sounds of your boyfriends' steady breathing. All in all, it hasn't been a bad night at all.

[spookysmujer]

‘03 Bonnie & Clyde, O.Diaz

Summary: After hearing many stories of the infamous Santo, Oscar Diaz, you have your first encounter with him at a block party.

warnings: cute s h e t 🥺

word count: 1.2K

a/n: All we need in this life of sin is Oscar’s fine ass 🥵 thank you for requesting babes!  Please consider: following my blog, heart/comment/reblog my content as well as turning on the notifs for when I post new content, much appreciated :)

requested by: @justatiredfool​

(gif belongs to @goldscoyne​ ✨)

You weren’t one to go to parties. In fact you can count on one hand how many parties you had been to since the end of high school. It’s sad but it’s who you are. You prefer the comfort of your own home along with a good book and some red wine. But after the many mentions of the party from a friend, you felt you had no choice but to say yes. 

“I am so happy you are here! Go mingle!” 

Another cup beer is placed in your hand. Your friend is gone just as soon as she appeared. You shake your head with a small smile on your lips while taking a sip of the bitter liquid. There are a bunch of familiar faces here along with some you don’t know. No harm in making new friends?

The first summer party since graduating high school a few weeks ago. It’ll be fun, you’ll drink and enjoy some good company. It’s a time to celebrate! You’re in the corner, watching guys play beer pong and girls ogling over them. Soon enough the house piles with more bodies and it feels overly clustered.

Out in the backyard, it’s nearly as packed but there is more free flowing air. You scan the crowd and see a bunch of classmates, lower classmen and the town’s up-to-no good gang, the Santos. The older group of guys have girls surrounding them. It’s pathetic to see how they are flinging themselves at them for attention that will probably only last one night. 

For a moment you watch the one they call ‘Spooky’. How is it they get their names when joining a gang? Is it given to them? Do they do something that determines it? You are so lost in trying to figure it out, you find he is staring back at you. Some of the other Santos taking notice as well. The smug looks on their faces make you step away, bumping into someone and spilling your drink all over your top. You groan and make your way to the bathroom.

The fabric of your halter top is soaked and there is no way you plan on spending the night like this. You send a quick text to your friend that you have to leave. But she doesn’t respond at all and you remember quickly that she was your ride to the party. You are standing near the street, cursing to yourself, “You’re Y/S/N’s little sister, right?” 

The voice makes you jump as you swivel on your heel to see Spooky standing behind you. You clutch your chest and look around if there is anyone else he could be talking to. Though it’s dumb to think so considering he just asked about your older sister. “Um, yeah I am. How do you know her?” He cracks a small smile.

“Went to school with her. Though she stayed behind a grade due to getting knocked up, she was a cool ass chick.” He explains and you nod, intrigued that he was never mentioned in any conversations you had with Y/S/N. “What’s your name?”

You take a second before answering, “Y/N.”

He nods, stepping away from you to light a blunt. You watch as he fires it up and takes a big hit, holding out to you as an offer. You politely decline, trying to not make things awkward but you’ve never talked with a gang member before. Or an older guy at that. Your sister is nearly 7 years older than you.

“Cool. Y/N.” You smile and look away. Something about how he is painted as this badass guy but the more you keep looking at him, his features seem so soft. And he speaks respectfully towards you. “Trying to get home. Soaked my top.” 

“I can give you a ride, party is lame and half these hynas can’t take a hint.” That makes you laugh and you ponder the offer of a ride home. And though you were always told to never jump in with strangers, you don’t feel entirely uncomfortable around him.

You look around and notice your low battery on your phone. It would die soon and you’d really be stranded not being able to call an uber or lyft. With your sister no longer living in Freeridge, parents divorced with your dad out of the picture and mom an ER nurse currently working a graveyard shift, the Santo leader is your next best option.

He waits for a response, “You sure? I mean… it won’t be bad for your reputation to be seen driving around a fresh outta high school hyna?” It’s his turn to laugh. “On the contrary.”

After sometime you nod your head and he leads his way to his ride. It's a beautiful 1963 Chevy Impala in a gleaming red color. You admire it as you approach it. He notices you looking at it with big interest, most girls exaggerated how much of a sexy car it is just to get in it and make out with him. But you are different with it and he admires that about you.

You run your hand along the hood of it. It’s nothing new to see these old school rides in California but for a place like Freeridge with all the goes down, his car is in mint condition, “You into cars?” He asks as you straighten up after leaning down to take a look at his trims. “Not really, but my dad used to always check out those car shows a couple of towns over, I remember him talking about Impalas a lot.”

“What kind of ride does he have?” You chuckle, “I wouldn’t know, he left when I was 7.” He watches as you get in through the passenger side. Turns out there are more similarities between the two of you than meets the eye.

“Are you sure you are okay with driving me home,Spooky? Aren’t your friends gonna think something?” Oscar always preferred that the ladies call him by his street name. He internally cringed hearing you call him that as he turned on the engine. “ Call me Oscar, they ain’t gonna think of nothing. I’m just giving you a ride home.” 

You look over at him and watch him for a brief moment. Truly how the saying goes that there is more beneath the surface. Your first thoughts of him were of a gangster that could never be up to no good. But turns out, he isn’t half as bad.

After giving him directions to your place, he’s pulling onto the street no longer than 15 minutes later. And within that time, you two chatted up about all kinds of things. Cars, school, even some hopes and dreams. You hadn’t noticed the time that passed by til you checked the time on his dash.

“Geez, it’s nearly 4AM. My bad.” You apologize knowing you can be quite chatty, he brushes it off, thanking you for the company you gave him. “I should get in. My mom will be home in half an hour and well, she has a mean throwing arm with range.”

Oscar laughs wholeheartedly at your comment, making you laugh as well. “Gracias por todo, Oscar. Um, there’s a car show outside of LA next week. I don’t know much about rides but I’m sure you’d like it.”

Are these butterflies? Oscar thinks as you wait for an answer, “Sounds dope. I’ll pick you. Um, should I call?” He asks you as the feeling of butterflies begins to fill your stomach. You nod and pull out your eyeliner from your purse to scribble on his arm, he looks at it then to you as you exit his car. A smile stuck on his face.

How eventful tonight has been.

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss@princesstiffxoxo@firebenderwolf @spookysnena @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98@multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc @roury66 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3@starrynite7114 @onmyspookysblock @aneitii​ @b3mybunnybaby​  @angelxfics​  @spookysbabymama​ @kkim120​ @ladylj​ @vayagrxce​ @irenne-stans​ @boujee-bitches​ (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

[inkmemes]

futurama  (  1999  -  2013  )  sentence  starters  ↪  taken  from  the  animated  science  fiction  show.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“let's get the hell out of here already! screw history!”

“when you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all.”

“you have to use a light touch, like a safecracker or a pickpocket.”

 "stop! the spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised."

"she's stuck in an infinite loop and he's an idiot. that's love for you."

"all i know is my gut says maybe."

“i've never seen a super nova blow up. but if it's anything like my old chevy nova, it'll light up the night sky!”

"every christmas my mom would get a fresh goose, for goose-burgers, and my dad would whip up special eggnog out of bourbon and ice cubes."

"what do i look like, a guy who's not lazy?"

“is heaven missing an angel, cuz you've got nice cans!”

“help! a guinea pig tricked me!"

"[name], if i said you said you had a beautiful body, would you take your pants off and dance around a little."

"drugs are for weirdos and hypnosis is for weirdos with big eyebrows." 

"[name], it would never work between us. you're a man, and i'm a woman. we're just too different."

“screw you, ill have my own contest. with black jack ... and hookers. forget the contest.”

“ah, she's built like a steakhouse but she handles like a bistro.”

"spare me your space age techno babble, [name].”

"it's sort of a two person pyramid scheme."

"i don't want to live on this planet anymore."

"you were doing well, until everyone died."

“if we hit that bullseye, the rest of the dominoes will fall like a house of cards. checkmate.”

“i am the man with no name. [muse name], at your service.”

“in the game of chess, you can never let your adversary see your pieces.”

"this is the worst kind of discrimination, the kind against me."

"you watched it... you can't unwatch it."

“valentine’s day is coming? aw crap! i forgot to get a girlfriend again!”

 "hold on to your dookie, it’s about to get spooky!"

"i'm tired of this room and everyone in it."

"i'm so embarrassed. i wish everyone else was dead."

"you can't just have your characters announce how they feel! that makes me feel angry!"

"i don't have emotions, and sometimes that makes me very sad."

"if, for any reason you're not satisfied, i hate you."

"that young man fills me with hope. plus some other emotions which are weird and deeply confusing." 

"i've dreamed about you a lot since you disappeared. what did you want to tell me?" 

"what do you think the meaning of life was anyway?"

“you're a pimple on society's ass and you'll never amount to anything!”

“life and death are a seamless continuum.”

“if anyone wants me, i'll be in the angry dome.”

“and the worst part is, i had to have the breakup sex by myself!”

“they said i was dumb, but i proved them.”

“what's the point of living if i can't say ass?”

“i'll be stuffing coal so far down your stocking you'll be coughing up diamonds!”

“we're all pawns in his diabolical game of checkers.”

"wait, i'm having one of those things, a headache, with pictures!"

“sorry, i didn't realize i was already here.”

"guess what you're an accessory to!"

"why does ross, the largest friend, not simply eat the other friends?"

“there's no scientific consensus that life is important.”

"we cooked our shoes in the dryer and ate them! now we're bored!"

“i'm just as important as him. it's just that, the kind of importance i have ... it doesn't matter if i don't do it.”

“oh what a foolish squid i’ve been.”

“my instinct is to hide in this barrel, like the wily fish.”

"that was bad, and you should feel bad!"

"technically correct - the best kind of correct!"

"and here is where i keep my assorted lengths of wire!"

"oh wait, you are serious! let me laugh even harder!"

"i gotta practice my stabbing!"

"that's the saltiest thing i've ever tasted! and i once ate a big, heaping bowl of salt!"

“i apologize for nothing!”

 "die young and leave a beautiful corpse! that's what i always say."

"here's to another lousy millennium."

“but i am already in my pajamas.”

“windmills do not work that way. goodnight.”

"you win again gravity."

"when push comes to shove, you got to do what you love, even if it's not a good idea.”

“but existing's basically all i do!”

“when will the killing end?"

"i'll be whatever i want to do."

"the use of words expressing something other than their literal intention. now that. is. irony."

"could you ask a little more sexfully?"

"hooray! i'm useful!"

"awesome. awesome to the max."

"some breaking occurred, the dolly was involved, that's about all we know."

“you want me to do two things?”

i love stealin', i love takin' things!

“i believe that qualifies as ill. at least from a technical standpoint.”

"that was the old me. he's dead now."

"jail ain't so bad; you can make sangria in the toilet. ‘course, it's shank or be shanked."

"one word. thundercougarfalconbird."

"of all my friends, you're the first."

“girls like swarms of lizards, right?”

“i lost it. in a volcano.”

"i'm gonna get you so many lizards!"

"who needs courage when you have a gun?"

“let's go! i've got jelly in my underpants!”

"interesting if true."

“i did do the nasty in the pasty!”

"something tells me i could easily beat those trained professionals."

"the two of you are good friends? but i thought we would be good friends!"

"it's like a party in my mouth, except everyone's throwing up."

“i'm shocked. shocked! well, not that shocked.”

“it's me! no one else look in this mirror!"

“you ever think you only like girls cause you're supposed to?”

"we don't gotta put up with this! we got poli sci degrees."

“sorry, i suffer from a very sexy learning disorder.”

“did somebody say something about a free hot meal?”

“you gotta do what you gotta do.”

"too many bones? not enough cash?"

“hey sexy mama, wanna kill all humans?”

"i don't know how you did that."

"the butter in my pocket is melting!"

"well ... first i got up and had a piece of toast ..."

“i can't wait til i'm old enough to feel ways about stuff.”

“interesting! no ... wait ... the other thing. tedious.”

"i knew you come crawling back, like a bird on its belly!"

“we both know you won't make it halfway before the craving sets in! then you'll come crawling back for another taste of sweet sweet candy. bam!"

“indeed so, most indeededly.”

"and by metaphorically, i mean get your coat."

“[vehicle]'s ready except for this cup holder, and i should have that done in 12 hours."

"stop. stop! i will destroy you." [ bonus if the receiver is doing something mundane to sender ]

“just make a simple cake. and this time, if someone's going to jump out of it, make sure to put them in after you cook it.”

“lies, lies and slander!”

“you raised my hopes and dashed them quite expertly, sir!”

“but going through a divorce together, you can't pretend that didn't bring us closer together.”

“when you say the human body is the most efficient thing to use as a battery, wouldn't anything make a better battery? like a potato? or a battery?”

“i'll have you know that i bejazzle my own underpants!”

“i'm sorry you had to see that, [name], usually i let my sadness fester quietly inside as a mental illness.”

“i'm not drunk, i'm mentally ill! but i agree with what, what you said.”

“this is a cool way to die!”

[happys-crazy-queen22]

The Lady Of The Night

Gif credit by @runabout-river.

Requested on wattpad

Hope you all enjoy.

Happy reading dollies.

Taglist @nocturnalherb16 @jesseswartzwelder.

Requested by AmberBatterton. I hope you like it. Sorry for the long wait. Thanks for the request.

Warning: polygamy relationship. Smut!  

"Come on out, Y/N. I bet you look great". Antonio called from his desk. The whole team waiting for you to come out from Voights office. You were changing into something rather sultry and seductive. You might have volunteered to help with the John patrol, playing a woman of the night on the streets.

"I'm nervous". You yelled, covering yourself up with your coat.

"You'll be fine. We'll be right there with you. You could be saving a lot of girls by doing this". Voight calmly spoke reassuring you.

"Alright. Here I come". You took one deep breath and opened the door. Slinging off your coat and strutting into the room. Your hands on your hips. Feeling quite fierce.

"Holy shit". Antonio's mouth dropped as he seen you in the tight little dress that didnt cover much and leave nothing to imagination. Your heels clinked as you twirled around.

"So"? You asked shrugging your shoulders. Before you could get a answer Antonio hit the floor with a thud. Everyone rushed over to check on him.

As you bent over to see if he was okay. Everyone heard another thud behind them. Voight had taken Antonio's queue and fainted as well.

"Maybe this dress was a little to much"? You bit your lip as Adam called for a ambulance.

"You think? You just had two men faint over you. All their blood rushing to their cocks. So I think you'll do great tonight". Alvin assured, shaking Hank to wake up.

After the ambulance got there you decided to stay out of Antonio and Voights sight so you rode with Gabby and Shay. They were laughing and joking around the whole way. You felt bad that that happened with Antonio and Voight. Not meaning to look this sexy.

"Hey, Y/N". Kelly, Herrmann and Otis came in just as y'all pulled into the bay.

"Hey". You said with a frown.

"Why so glum, chum? Herrmann asked.

"Voight and Antonio fainted. It was my fault".

"Why? What did you do"? Kelly asked confused.

You were about to open your coat when Gabby jumped in front of you screaming.

"NO"!

"This isn't happening again. She's wearing a dress thats extremely sexy. No you may not see it". Gabby told them. They stood there with a what has gotten into Gabby today face.

"Okay. Geez. Calm down. Don't want you to have a heart attack". Kelly chuckled and walked away with the others.

Gabby turned to you. "I think you shouldn't show anyone else until you go to work and that's all. I hate to have to travel around Chicago bringing people to life because of your dress and sexiness". She giggled.

"Yeah. I should be getting to work anyways. Got a bet going that I can't get tons of John's with this dress. I'll show them". You giggled.

"You show them girl". Gabby and Shay cheerfully cheered. "She's going to give them all heart attacks". Shay whispered to Gabby.

"Oh yeah. We have our work cut out for us tonight". Gabby huffed with a laugh as they went back into the building.

The captain of the undercover unit put you on the corner of 5th and main. It was a hot spot for walkers and John's. You knew most of the girls were undercover just as you were.

Soon as it got dark the street lit up with cars more than usual. Of course you got picked first and when you got into the car he fainted so it was a easy arrest.

Luckily the whole night was easy. The John's were coming out of the wood work. Maybe someone spread the word that a hot new young thang was working and they had to get a taste but you were glad to get some of these guys off the streets. They were pure creepy.

It was around three in the morning when the van came around to pick you up. You were exhausted. Antonio said he would give you a ride home when you got to the station. You didnt know why he would have waited that long for you but you thought it was a nice jester.

"How many did you get"? Antonio clapped as you walked up the stairs.

"Seventy five guys and surprisingly four women. One had her husband with her. They were trying to spice up their marriage. I was tempted". You laughed as you plumped into your chair.

"I heard. Sorry I wasn't there".

"No I'm sorry. I shouldnt have picked out the dress that would send men into cardiac arrest".

"You're all good, Y/N. You should take it as a compliment".

"How are you and Voight"?

"We're good. Voights in his office now".

You nodded and headed to his office to see what he thought about tonight's events.

Knocking on the door he told you to come in.

"Great job. We heard it all. Excellent work". Hank proudly said.

"Thank you sir. I appreciate it". You spoke with a huge smile on your face. He was proud of you and you couldnt be more happier.

"Let's celebrate". Voight pulled out three glasses and a bottle of whiskey sitting them on the desk. Three, who else was joining us?

"Don't start the party with out me". Antonio came jogging up to the office, and closing the door behind him.

Hank poured the glasses and handed them out. "Cheers to great police work and great company". Hank winked at you. Sending your cheeks to cherry red.

"You must be tired? Why dont you take your jacket off and sit awhile"? Antonio suggested, sitting on the edge of Hanks desk. Looking you up and down as he sipped his whiskey.

"I'll leave the coat on. After what happened today I dont want that again". You shook your head.

"We're fine now. We just got a little excited that's all".

"Are you sure"? You were hesitant at first but they seemed fine now and you slowly took off your coat laying it across the back of the chair.

"You look incredible". Hank mumbled into his glass.

"Fucking hell". Antonio did the same. All eyes were on you and you felt your center become moist. You pushed your thighs together. Shooting the rest of your drink down your throat.

"Another"? Hank offered.

"Sure". You held your cup out and Hank poured you a double.

"Are you trying to get me drunk"? You snickered at the thought of Antonio and Hank getting you drunk and having their way with you. Oh God the thought made you moan deep inside. It was your biggest fantasy. No one knew but you had the biggest crush on them both. You couldnt act on it because for one Hank was your boss and Antonio was married. And I say was because now he's divorced.

"No. Just celebrating. Unless". Hank looked at Antonio.

"Unless"? You hiccuped as you finished your second drink, wipping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"We've seen the way you look at us. Undressing us with your eyes". Antonio came closer to you, bending down beside the chair that you were sitting in.

"I'm...I'm...I'm". You started to stutter. Trying to think of something. Antonio smirked and pressed his index finger over your lips.

"Shhhh. You're not the only one that has been looking and undressing". Antonio looked at Hank.

"So what shall we do about this, Y/N"?

"What do you mean"? You asked nervously.

"What I mean is, how would you like to have us. We both want you and we've came to an agreement that we'll share you if that is what you like. Is that what you want, for us to share you"? Hank got in your face licking his lips.

Yes! Yes! Yes!  Your mind and body screamed. But you really had to think this through. Would it effect your job? Your friendship? What will the others think if they found out?

"Well, I uh. Yes. I want you to share me". The words shot out of your mouth without thinking for long.

"Who would you want first? We've got all night long". Hank kissed your lips, his hand tangled in your hair as he kissed your roughly. His tongue dominating yours. Antonio's hand wondered up your leg, to your thigh.  Squeezing it, making you gasped into Hanks mouth.

Antonio took that as a sign to travel further up, until he could feel the heat from your mound on his fingers. He could smell your juices.

"She's not wearing panties". Hank chuckled. "That's why I fainted. I was fine until she bent over and I saw that pretty little pussy. Those puffy little lips, hiding that suckable little clit. God, you make me so hard". Hank growled as he devoured your lips once more.

Antonio gulped licking his lips as he brushed over your pussy lips. Sliding his middle finger between your slit. Your juices covering his finger. He so badly wanted to taste you but your wiggling and moaning made him keep going.

He guided his long finger into your tight little hole, wiggling it around.  Until he found the spot that made your legs tremble. His thumb pressed again your clit. Rubbing it slow and gentle. Teasing you because you liked it rough.

Hank released your lips and went to your neck, sucking and licking along to your collarbone. Your breast were bulging out of your dress.

"Do you like this dress"?

"Yes". You gasped out as Anontio added another finger to your wet hole.

Hank chuckled, taking his hands and running them down your chest. Taking your dress along the way. Your nipples were hard as rocks.  Hank clamped on them and squeezed and tugged on them. Making you purr. By now you were a panting withering mess under their touch. Antonio played with your pussy while Hank tongues you down and playedwith your nipples.  You were so close, they could feel it.

"Aww, is baby girl going to cum for us"? Hank cooed.

"She's clenching the hell out of my fingers". Antonio grunted, he squeezed his cock through his pants.

"That's it princess. Cum for daddy". Hank attached his mouth to your breast. Suckling at your nipple while his hand pinched your free nipple.

From Antonio fingering you and rubbing your clit to Hank sucking your nipple, you couldnt take it anymore. Your knees buckled, your heart face and your body trembled as you came. Your head fell back along with your eyes. They made you come so hard at that moment. You felt your soul leave your body during your orgasm.

"Such a good girl". Hank released your nipple from his mouth with a pop and kissed your lips.

"She soaked the chair". Anontio licked his fingers as he stood up. His cock just begging to be released.

"We'll clean after she comes down. How does she taste"? Hank asked Antonio as he greedily sucked on his fingers.

"Like heaven and peaches". They both chuckled.

"Fuck. Mmmmm". You moaned, your head spinning.

"I dont think she can move. We should take her home and make sure shes okay". Antinio suggested with a smirk.

"I think that as well. You take her to the car and I'll clean up".

"Up you go little one". Antonio picked you up bridal style and walked you out the back way. A smile on your face and your body wanting more.

Hank gathered your things and cleaned up your little mess. He wanted to sneak a taste but stopped himself. He wanted to enjoy the real thing. Very soon.

Turning off the lights and heading out the door. He hopped in the car with Antonio and you. You were coming off your high.

"Let's head to my place. You're not finished with me yet. Theres so many things I want to try with you two. So many". You fell back onto the back seat with a satisfied sigh.

"We have all the time in the word". Anontio and Hank high fived each other. They didnt know you were just as freaky as they were. This was going to be the best three way relationship ever.

[arduadastra]

Lost Faith - Part One

A/N ITS FINALLY HERE!! Thank you for the support and I can't believe I wrote this, if you want a part two let me know!

FINALLY updated to this gorgeous header by @sirtadcooper (who you definitely need to follow)

This is set right after the season two finale and is kind of what I imagine Din would be feeling right after he’s handed Grogu off and what it would be like to find him.

Also, the crest didn’t explode ok, I refuse to believe that.

- 2.1K - (what happened?!)

/// Din is alone. He’s been alone most of his adult life. Once he left the convent he’s captured quarries solo for years. He’s used to the quiet solace hyperspace provides, the occasional hums and beeps from the crest console and the sounds of starlight rushing past is nothing more than white noise at this point. So why does it feel different this time? He leans over and flips a switch. He likes quiet, he knows quiet. Talking has never been his strong suit - in fact, he actively avoids it if he can but there’s a tightness in his chest he’s trying to ignore and he needs a fucking distraction before he punches something. After he had handed... to the Jedi he doesn’t really remember much else. Bo Katan had said something about needing to discuss his future and the dark sabre but he hadn’t paid her much thought to be honest. He had felt numb and it just didn’t seem important at the time. He remembers looking at them all and how they looked back at him. He didn’t even really realise why they seemed to stare so much until he accidentally kicked the helmet at his feet. He hadn’t bothered to put it back on. What’s the point? He had barely managed to justify putting it back on after revealing himself for that imperial scanner. Every soul that saw his face after that had died, other than Mayfeld that is. Technically no living being had seen his face so his creed remained unbroken. But this time? Din caught himself staring and at a lever with a certain missing sphere on top. He looked away. His creed. The one thing he held above all else. The thing that he had engrained into him since he was a foundling and what made him who he is: a Mandalorian. Yet, he has met Mandalorian's and they did not cover their face. They had called him different. ’A child of the watch’ Bo-Katan had said - was he even Mandalorian then? The thought cast his eye to his helmet lying discarded next to him. He thought he’d feel bare without it and he did back with the IG unit but now he just feels angry. The creed he abided by is broken now, but that doesn’t piss him off nearly as much as the realisation that it might not have even fucking mattered in the first place. He huffs. No, that’s not it. It is but it isn’t. The pressure in his chest returns and he gasps. “Dank Farrik.” Din clenches his eyes shut against the pain, it’s not like any other pain he’s felt before and he has been hurt a lot. He feels a burning sensation behind his eyelids and he shakes his head, opening his eyes and setting his next coordinates before he can think too hard about why his vision is slightly blurred. ///

It was nearing the end of your shift and you took in the sparse patrons left around you. Bar work wasn’t really what you wanted to do with your life but it’s all you had. No siblings and dead parents made for one lonely existence so you needed the company your customers provided. Drunken patrons tend to have the best stories too. You’ve heard it all over the years: divorced from the wife, hiding from the boss, hiding from the police - those were the best kind. Usually, you could guess why each one was there and why but you were stumped by someone. You had noticed the lone Mandalorian in your bar a while ago. You wouldn’t take a second glance usually but what strikes you is the fact he hasn’t moved in twenty minutes and he’s just been sat staring blankly at his own helmet the whole time. The bar is quiet and you’re the only one working so who gives a shit if you’re polishing the same glass over and over, he’s interesting. You haven’t seen a Mandalorian before let alone one as stoic as him. You’d heard the stories, of course, battle-hardened warriors capable of bringing grown men to their knees in a matter of seconds… Now that's an image. You love people-watching, or thing watching this far out in the rim, and it isn’t often you see humans. Especially ones like him. He seems sad, but not in the obvious moping, crying, shoulder shaking sad - more like he’s grieving. He’s been sat staring at the helmet on the table for a while. His hands are balled into a fist in front of it and it’s like he’s looking through it to the wall behind. His dark eyes have barely blinked and his hair is tousled on his head. He’s tanned too and has the most striking lips you’ve ever seen on a guy. You cock your head as you look at him - he’s hot. You feel bad thinking that when the guy is clearly miserable but he’s gorgeous. You have a thing for stubble and you can’t help but think how it would feel against your skin. And strangely you hate to see him so sad. You have an idea so you turn around and start making your favourite drink while you check on him over your shoulder. After a while, pleased with what you’ve concocted you walk to his table and drop the drink in his line of sight. You smile at him. “On the house.” He doesn’t look up, doesn’t seem to even acknowledge you’ve spoken to him let alone standing two feet to his left. You clear your throat. “That means it's free." He looks up at that, seemingly broken out of whatever trance he was in yet his eyes still seem so far away. “I’m not thirsty.” You nod your head to the table. “Well if you want to keep sitting here, you need something in front of you.” The man looks back at the drink, bumping it with his right fist then stares back ahead. “Ok.” He’s a chatty one. You look back at your bar and around at the other tables, no one seems to need assistance and you’re sure as hell not about to go back to standing behind an empty bar so you take in the Mandalorian and decide to sit across from him. You sigh, “Well the least you can do is have a sip, I made it after all.” The Mandalorian meets your eyes silently then glances down at the drink by his hands. He seems to take a few seconds studying the contents before bringing it to his lips for a drink. You watch him, watch as he drinks from the glass and how it travels down his throat. You see the tendons stretch and his adam apple move as he does. God, how can this guy make drinking sexy? You chide yourself on the thought. This guy is clearly going through something and he doesn’t need some random woman objectifying him. He’s finished now and is actively avoiding your eye line as he looks around himself. He seems lost like he doesn’t know how to have company with him. You decide at that moment that you aren’t leaving this guy alone. “My name is y/n by the way. What’s yours?” Nothing. He’s still not looking at you. You try again. “How was the drink?” The guy must have some form of manners because he responds at that with a slight nod. “Good.” Not much but you’ll take it. You’ve gathered from this short conversation that

this guy isn’t much for small talk so you decide to cut straight to the point. “Who did you lose?” He seems surprised by that. He looks at you fully then and you’re startled by his eyes. The rest of him seems so closed off, so shuttered but his eyes are a dead give away. They swim with grief and pain and it takes your breath away. He doesn’t respond but he keeps looking at you so you take it as permission to keep going. “I know sadness when I see it. See it every day here,” you gesture around you, “but yours seems deeper than that.” He turns away from you and you notice his jaw tense slightly, subtle but you caught it. You’re on the right track at least. “Was it your wife...or husband?” “No.”

Very quick you notice, so not a partner then. “Your friend?” He’s still looking away. Not that then. You look at his face again, he seems older than you. “Your kid?” That gets a reaction. His jaw ticks and his hand's clench. You see his bicep flex at the action and your mind wanders again and just what he looks like under that armour. “Leave me alone." You continue, “What were they like?” He frowns, and looks back at you, “You’re very insistent.” You scoff, “And you barely talk but I don’t judge.” You take a pause then lean forward into his space, “I just know it's useless when people say ’sorry’ or ’that's terrible.’ You know that already. I always found talking about them is more helpful, means there’s someone else out there to remember them.” The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything for a long time. He studies your face, eyes scanning over yours before dropping to your hands that have instinctively reached out towards him. Your fingers are grazing ever so slightly and you think he likes the contact. He leans back slightly in his chair and casts his eyes over your shoulder. “He’s not dead.” You hum, “Ok…” You think, “ ...so he’s missing?” The Mandalorian seems frustrated and shakes his head "Not missing, I mean I don’t know where he is but I - “ He casts his gaze back to you, almost as if he didn’t realise he had been talking, “Why are you asking me this?” You shrug, “Dunno, you just seemed like you needed someone to talk to.” He keeps looking at you. You lean forward more and so does he. Your fingers bump more insistently and you struggle to not rest your hands over his. The energy between the two of you changes ever so slightly, and you feel your hair stand up on end as he stares you down. He’s very intimidating. You like that. Neither of you moves away and the silence between you stretches on. You refuse to speak first because you sort of want to see what his next move is. You get the impression no one stands up to this guy and you want to be the first. He narrows his eyes, his jaw tenses when he speaks coldly, “I don’t need to talk. Go away.” Undeterred you smile at him, flashing him your teeth when you say “Oh I disagree.” He scoffs at that and gets up, leaving the drink you made him and walks out the door. You stand to follow him, grabbing his helmet as you go - how did he forget that? "Hey, we were talking!” you call after him, pushing yourself through the few stragglers still around on the street. He keeps walking, ignoring your yells so you shout louder, “you didn't even finish my drink!" Still nothing, "and you forgot your bucket!" That makes him turn and he sees the helmet under your arm. You walk towards him as he crosses his arms and sighs. He reaches out his hand for it but you hold it out of reach, “ah ah ah, I said we weren’t finished.” He scoffs “I say we have. Give it back.” “Nope.” You say popping the ‘p’ and you smile at him, “Not till you tell me what’s wrong.” He stalks forward and attempts to take the helmet but you’re quicker and sidestep him and cross it over into your other hand, leaning it out of reach again. He growls at that, “I’ll just take it from you.” You dance backwards slightly, “Oh I don’t think you will.” He remains where he is and scowls, “Don’t you have work to finish?” You shake your head, “Nah it's quiet and they’ll all leave now I’m gone. Besides, this is much more fun.” He’s getting annoyed now and gestures towards you, “What? Standing there holding my helmet hostage knowing full well I can just come over there and take it?” He walks forward again, anger now very present on his face - you love that you’ve rattled him. You know it must take a lot to get this guy mad but it seems you’ve done it rather easily. You grin at him, “You’ll have to catch me first.” And with that, you turn and run. ///

If you want to be tagged for part 2 let me know!

Tagged: @darlingotaku @theoriquewitherseld @v-mack @soul-of-daisies @bbwithaknife @luciamajer @altarsw @redredchangesintheskys @thatoneidiot16 @24-blackbirds @dindjarin-mandalorian @engineeredfiction

[knjoodles]

learn to love; jungkook | 01

pairing: teacher!jungkook x singleparent!reader

genre: fluff, angst 

word count: 3K

summary: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.

lowercase intended

02 | 03 | 04

   “seyoung, please,”  

   being a single mother at this time in your daughter’s life? it wasn’t the best, so to speak.

  to your beautiful seven-year-old seyoung, the local supermarket was a treasure trove of goodies and tasty treats she could barely keep her hands away from. you darted your head in either direction of the breakfast aisle, following the sound of the patter of steps running away from you, just to spot seyoung slipping behind a tower of canned corn and into an ambiguous section of the store. “seyoung!” you gasped, dashing in the direction she went. catching your breath, you found her sitting in the middle of the candy aisle, toying with a bag of skittles and trying to use her small, short nails to tear open the wrapping.  

   “can you stay near me, baby? please?” you walked towards her slowly, placing your shopping basket on the floor and kneeling to meet her gaze. your mouth twitched into a smile as she shook her head in a pout, shoving the bag of candy against the floor in another attempt to open it. you reach your hand to take it from her hands when she pulls the bag towards her again, clutching it to her chest stubbornly.

   “mommy, i want this one!” she whined quietly, kicking her legs and fiddling with the corner of the bag. as you opened your mouth to say no, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d bought something for her. it’s not that raising her alone was extremely difficult — your music producing career had taken off when she’d turned four and you finally had enough money to sustain the two of you — it’s that you were unable to give her the attention and benefits she needed as a child. money that was supposed to be spent on things like an abundance of toys, bags filled with vegetables and spices to make a delicious dinner, adorable slip-ons to match her favorite dress, were all spent on paying for bills, an occasional nanny, and her private school. you weren’t begging for help, but it would be nice.

   “alright,” you sighed, the excitement of getting candy shining through her doll-like eyes. “i’ll buy you the candy, but can you promise mommy you won’t run away like that anymore?” she happily placed the bag in your hand with the guarantee of sweets, letting you drop it into your basket. looking back at her to make sure she understands, you raised your eyebrow, prompting her to nod slowly and rise from the market floor. as the two of you made your way to the cashier, she grasped your pinky, doing what she could to hold your hand. after loading all of your groceries in the back of your car, you drove her to her friend, ailee, so they could spend the rest of the warm, welcoming sunday afternoon together. before you left, she gripped your hands as tight as she could and promised you that she’d be back soon. because she knew how much mommy will miss her.

   you savored her kind words as you slipped into your car once more, running your hands over the comforting leather stitch of the wheel before pressing the gas and driving home. on your way home, you noticed your phone sitting in the cupholder vibrating as someone called you. waiting until you reached a red light, you answered the phone quickly, paying no attention to the caller id — you get random phone calls from other producers about artists you’d be working with in the future, it was something you’d gotten used to by now.

   “hey.” a deep, masculine voice mumbled on the other side of the line. you recognized it instantly.

it was your ex-husband.

   “hi, hoseok. is there something you need?” you asked, a hint of annoyance in your voice. hearing him again after three months was surreal; it reminded you of everything that’d happened with him.  

   “yeah, i was wondering if we could, uh, visit seyoung.” he muttered, obviously tense from your tone.

we. he said we.  

the word we, without you, was the reason why you’d left him.

you found them. that’s all you’d allow yourself to think about regarding him. if you let yourself go further, you may break down in the middle of the freeway.

   “ah, you mean you and yebin? of course. seyoung’s not home right now, but you guys can come and visit her at any other time.” you replied, savoring the fact you’d planned a playdate for her. hoseok and yebin were the last people you wanted to see at the moment.

  you weren't angry that he’d continued with his mistress after the two of you divorced;  you weren’t the jealous type, and frankly, you didn’t want to be with someone who threw away years of love and support for a woman who he’d known for less than six months. you missed your other half, you missed that comforting back hug after a long day at work and the affectionate ear nibbles while cuddling together. you missed the intimate moments, you missed having someone else in the house. you missed having emotional support, as well as a financial one. while hoseok seemingly frolicked with his younger, sexy girlfriend, you were in the studio all day to make sure your daughter has what she needs to have a healthy childhood without a father. and you weren’t even sure if you were doing it right.

   the idea of divorce will never be something a child can digest completely without having questions. hell, it’s not even something an adult can handle without asking questions. seyoung would often wonder out loud about why daddy was hanging out with a second mommy and why the two of you didn’t live with daddy anymore; why the two of you had to downsize and move away. embarrassingly enough, your daughter told her friends about how her parents live in separate houses, thinking it was impressive that she had two houses.  

   “great. yebin’s really been eager to see seyoung again. i think the two of them are really getting along nicely.” hoseok explained, making things worse in an attempt to break the ice.  

   “that’s great. i'm glad seyoung’s taking a liking to yebin.” oh, how you wanted to hiss that you hoped she wouldn’t replace you with yebin the way he did.  

   “you know, you’re reacting to this better than i thought you would,” he replied. bad move.

   “i don’t know how you want me to react, hoseok. maybe, it’s because i haven’t heard from you in three months.” you spat, angry that he even dared to say something like that. what did he mean? did he think you’d welcome yebin, his mistress, the woman he cheated on you with, with open arms? did he think you’d take a liking to yebin the way seyoung did? unfortunately, that’s not how infidels get treated. you two were a team, he randomly got up and joined the opposition, leaving you alone to play the game of life by yourself.

   “you’re right,” he admitted. “i should’ve called or text, but you know how my job is and—“

   “i'm sure if you had enough time to go clubbing with yebin you have enough time to spend two hours with your daughter. hoseok, i will support you in almost everything, but you need to be a part of seyoung's life — and seeing her once in a blue moon won’t leave a lasting memory of you in her childhood.”

he sighed. you could imagine him habitually rubbing his eyes with one hand before running it over his hair; he shakes his head when he doesn’t have anything left to say.  the muffled sound of a woman voice sounded from the other line, making you roll your eyes.  

   “i get what you’re saying. i... i need to go right now, but i promise we’ll come and see you guys soon. bye.” he completely shook off your conversation and it made you angry. how could he disregard something so important?

   “of course you do.” you muttered bitterly before the line went dead. fortunately for you, you’d just returned home, allowing you to frantically throw your groceries on the kitchen island and drown yourself in what sorrow he caused you.

   it had started off like a dream. the two of you had met in your third year of college, him a business and economics major and you a music production major with a minor in audio and sound engineering. you’d bumped into each other at a banal frat party — one neither of you really wanted to be at. he began boasting about his dog back at home, making you erupt in giggles and inch closer and closer towards him as the night grew older. the two of you eventually left the crowded house together, not going to someone’s place, but rather to a local noodle bar, the midnight empty tables and sentient music a great transition from the pounding music and lack of personal space of the party. he joked about how he was never amazing at talking to people, especially women, so he was surprised that you managed to stick around with him for this long — a new record, to quote him directly. his warm aura kept you snug from the cold night, and he eventually took you home, dropping you safely to your apartment. after that night was over, you began to notice him more and more on campus, like a bright color in a mellow painting.

   one day, out of the blue, he drunkenly confessed his feelings for you. ironically enough, the same people had hosted a party in the same frat house a year later. with his intoxicated body pressed up the wall next to you and the thought that you were someone else, he moaned about how much he likes you but you never seem to pick up on his advances. the days following sprouted conversation after conversation regarding relationships, and eventually, the two of you decided to date. you felt as if you were on the top of the world, as if there was nothing stopping you anymore. after you graduated, the two of you rented an apartment together and entered the job market, taking steps together. and, three years later, you asked him to marry you. right in the middle of pasta night, while you were watching the little mermaid together.

   he named seyoung. you can remember exactly when the two of you decided on her name; when you first held seyoung in your arms and the two of you gently admired her perfection. he kissed behind your ear and whispered, “seyoung. eternal.”

   the three of you were like the three musketeers, and life was a never-ending spiral of fun. you were happy, so happy that you were afraid it would go away. it was perfect: you’d wake up to your loving husband snoring softly beside you with your baby girl giggling happily in her crib, watching the spinning sheep on her crib mobile with glee. every single day, the same cycle, but somehow, your family taught you a new feeling of happiness each day.

   you hate this part. of course, all good things come to an end. they have to, because the bad is what reminds you how lucky you are to have the good. you’d thought life was great. seyoung was a very likable toddler according to her preschool teachers, hoseok had recently gotten a promotion, and your career finally felt like it was going somewhere. you’d recently been hired at bighit, working for their new group, txt.  

   it was around twelve in the morning. you’d gotten home late because your team had finished mapped txt’s first mini-album, the dream chapter: star. pulling your coat closer to your frame as you stepped towards your door, you prayed hoseok had put seyoung to sleep. you’d told him that you’d be coming home as late as three in the morning, not knowing exactly how long it would take to decide how many songs would make it onto the album, as some potential songs were songs meant for other groups that were eventually scrapped.  

   you entered quietly, the door creaking at your attempt to open it silently. you weren’t very observant of your surroundings; truthfully, you just wanted to kiss your baby’s forehead and collapse into your bed. kicking off your shoes, you placed your bag on the coffee table, sighing before trudging towards your shared bedroom. it hit you like bricks — you weren’t paying attention to any noises, you weren’t living a cliché romance movie scene, it was completely unexpected. when you pushed open your bedroom door, a nude woman, lean and visibly younger, was rolling her hips on top of your husband’s bare form. it had taken a second to even register: what’s going on? who is she? am i dreaming? yet your silent thoughts were proven wrong as her head turned in fear to see you standing there, silhouette in the doorframe. she swung her leg over hoseok, pulling on the covers as her body fell next to him on the bed. 

  that was your spot.

  hoseok sat up, eyes wide with fear. “(y/n)… i… this-” he scrambled, thousands of excuses flying through his mind as to why he was just caught hooking up with his assistant. someone you, for one, trusted.

   you, like him, were at a loss for words. your soul felt as though someone had ripped it from your chest and slammed it to the ground, trampling on it bitterly. you turned your head, seeing your baby girl sleeping soundly in her crib. one thing remained stable while your entire world came crashing down onto you, and it was her breathing, chest rising and falling rhythmically, eyes fluttering.

  you nearly slammed the door in fury, turning and sliding down against it, trying to catch your breath. you’d never faced this type of pain before, you didn’t know what to do. there was so much to lose and so little to gain.

   your mother had always taught you to not take any shit from anyone, especially not a man. you tuned out the begs and pleads and cries for you to stay with him and stood your ground on a divorce. ‘it won’t happen again’ has proven itself to be a white lie time and time again. you’d gained custody of your child, and hoseok gained all of the freedom the world could allow. it was as if he was young again.

   it’s not that life was all bad for you after the divorce; crown, the song you’d mainly produced with the help of others became a huge hit in korea, festering hundreds of millions of views and charting #1s worldwide. your company credited you along with a couple other coworkers as the reason for txt’s success in the west. and, as txt continued to grow in popularity, so did your paycheck. you were a wildly successful single mom, fearless on the outside, getting there on the inside.

   fast forward to now: you, single mother, barely getting by mentally, struggling with things your daughter is too young to understand. your husband, living a carefree life with his young mistress, the only connection between him and his ex-wife being his child support fund. you didn’t envy him, but you envied his happiness.

trying to kill time, a piece of toast hanging from your mouth, you opened your laptop, an email from seyoung’s teacher popping into your inbox. it read,  

“ hello parents of wonderful third graders! welcome to (or welcome back to) yooseong elementary!

               my name is mr. jeon jungkook, and i have the great honor of having your kids this year. i know that the school year has only recently started, but i’d love to get to know all of you soon! attached to this email are my parent hours along with the introduction handout i gave my students on friday, just in case any of your little stars misplaced it or haven’t shown it to you yet. i’d like for you to sign it and have your child turn it in on monday to ensure that we’re all on the same page! i hope all of you are just as excited for your child’s school year as i am.

               again, if any of you need to contact me for any reason, please shoot me an email at this address! i’ll respond as soon as i can.

thank you,

mr. jeon ”

   his enthusiasm made you smile. nothing comes before seyoung’s happiness, and if seyoung has a teacher which loves his job as much as you love her, that’s all the satisfaction you need. you’re glad, and somewhat relieved, that when you’re not around, seyoung is in great hands.

   quickly writing him back and thanking him for sending the handout seyoung has yet to show you, you closed the tab, scrolling through a news article about txt’s unfinished success story, refreshing your mind on what you already knew about the boys, and chuckling at what facts they got wrong. as you continued to read through the article, an advertisement on the sidebar caught your eye. now, normally, you’re not one to pay attention to them. you’re more of the type to frown at them and spam-click the ‘x’ in the corner until it eventually vanishes. this one was different.

   an advertisement for a singles support group, offering a place for your voice to be heard, and, well, support.

   you hesitated, wondering if you’d be paired with a group of adults with more emotional issues than time per session. reminding yourself of how hoseok’s actions combined with the consistent stress of your job and raising seyoung threatens your sanity on a day to day basis, you put that voice on mute, and promptly clicked away, this time clicking on the ad instead of the ‘x’.

   after all, anything for seyoung.

[jlalafics]

Ok so you just wrote me a gorgeous drabble and here I am wanting more, bc you’re just too good. On my way to the gym this morning I almost crashed my car bc I saw sexy construction workers and was wondering if sometime in the future you would maybe consider ConstructionWorker!Peeta? Maybe Katniss almost crashed her car staring at that ass? Lol sorry for being so needy... 😘

I hope you enjoy @mrspeetamellark, trying to think up a story title and story cover concept right now because I’m liking this Everlark so much.

Thanks for the prompt, doll! <3

_____

“Yes, move that meeting to the afternoon,” Katniss told her sister. “Snow wants to meet about the Gilmore divorce proceedings.”

“Got it,” Prim replied from the speakers of the car. “Where are you?”

“Just turning onto our block,” she informed her. “It looks like they’re finally renovating the building next to the office…”

Katniss’ eyes were suddenly drawn to a figure standing out against the rest of the men gathered at the site. He was leaning against one of the wood slats that surrounded the property, blond and broad wearing a fitted white t-shirt.

Suddenly, his eyes drew up to meet hers.

Azure blue greeted her own steel ones, the man’s mouth widening into a smile, his expression warm and sweet.

Before morphing into panic—

“Holy fuck!”

Katniss swerved just in time to avoid a squirrel crossing the street and just barely maneuvering her car from crashing into a tree. She managed to save face, making the turn into her office’s parking garage and then into her assigned space.

“Are you alright?” Prim called out. “For a moment there, I thought I lost you.”

Katniss turned off the engine, taking in a calming breath.

“I’m fine. I’ll be up in a minute,” she responded before hanging up.

This is what she got for even looking at a man. It was a sign from the gods telling her to focus on work and not on her lack of a social life.

Too bad, though. The man was awfully cute.

++++++

“Peeta!” Turning, Peeta found Finnick—one of the other construction workers and his childhood friend—heading towards him. “Your dad said that we could take our lunches now.”

“Fine with me,” Peeta agreed, pulling off his construction helmet and tucking it under his arm.

The two headed down the street, grabbing some sandwiches from a nearby deli before heading back.

“So,” Finnick began, as they sat down at the tables set-up in front on the construction site. “I saw that your lady almost damn near crashed into a tree this morning.”

“She isn’t my lady,” Peeta muttered, unwrapping his sandwich to avoid his friend’s teasing eyes. “She’s just a beautiful woman who I happen to admire—who would never look at someone like me.”

“She did notice!” his friend exclaimed. “That close call happened because she was looking at you. Maybe you should go over to her office building and introduce yourself, ask if she’s okay—”

“No, no, no…” Peeta shook his head. “She’s high class and I am…me.”

“Peeta—” Finnick looked to him in concern. “You are a good guy. Stop being so hard on yourself. Just because one woman couldn’t look past your circumstances, doesn’t mean they all will.” His friend’s sea-green eyes darted behind him. “In fact, I’m going to help you out—”

Sticking his middle and index fingers into his mouth, Finnick let out a loud whistle.

“What are you doing?” Peeta asked in confusion.

His friend ignored him, looking behind Peeta and pointing at him.

Then, he was being yanked by the forearm from his seat and being slammed against one of the wood slats of their construction site.

Up close, her eyes were smoky and full of fire—because she was pissed.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she demanded. “I am not the kind of woman who needs to get whistled at to feel like she’s hot. In fact, it’s downright demeaning! If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was introduce yourself like a normal person—”

“Wait!” She stepped back, but her grip on the front of Peeta’s shirt didn’t let up. “I never whistled at you. It was my friend; the idiot with the red hair who is currently trying to skulk back into our construction site, so you won’t manhandle him like you’re doing to me.”

The woman turned just in time to see Finnick guiltily rush into the construction site.

She immediately released her grasp, her olive complexion flushing scarlet.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” The woman let out a nervous laugh. “It’s just been a hell of a day so far. I almost crashed my car this morning—” Her grey eyes widened. “It’s you!”

He held out his hand to her. “Peeta Mellark.”

She took it and Peeta let his thumb brush against her rich skin. “Katniss Everdeen.”

“Now that we’ve officially met,” he started. “Are you okay? It was a close call this morning.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “It’s just been so busy with meetings and I have to go grab lunch—”

“Split my sandwich with me,” he offered. Peeta nodded at the still wrapped sandwich on the now empty table. “Or I’m pretty sure there are few birds that would be happy to take your half.”

Katniss flushed. “You sure?”

“I insist.” He led her towards the table, pulling out a chair for her. After sitting, he pulled one of the wrapped pieces out and handed it to her. “Turkey and provolone, no tomatoes.”

“That is my exact order at Sae’s Deli!” Katniss said as she unwrapped her half.

Peeta grinned. “It’s where I got it.”

“So—” She placed her sandwich down and turned to him. Peeta examined her, perfect posture, a heart-shaped face, and smooth shoulder-length waves greeted his appreciative eyes. “—why did your friend whistle at me?”

Peeta let out a breath.

“The first time I came by to examine this construction site, you came to your office,” he explained. “You were wearing a red romper and your hair was in a braid. You were about the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Ever since, I guess I just looked out for you. Finnick just happened to notice and thought he could help things along…”

Peeta waited for her to recoil or grimace. It sounded pathetic, the way he always made sure to look out for her black BMW in the mornings. However, to him, it was just not a good day if he didn’t see her lovely face, even if it was just through her car window.

“Did you want to have dinner?”

He turned to her, his jaw dropping. “What?”

Katniss blushed, her eyes going to her lap.

“I think you’re cute and I almost crashed my car looking at you,” she revealed slowly. “And it seems like a sign that we should look into whatever this is. Also—” Her eyes met his, glowing brightly. “No one has ever called me beautiful.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he said softly. “I would love to have dinner with you. You have to let me pay, though.”

“Is that some sort of manly-man bullshit?” she retorted with a grin.

“No, my mother would kill me if she found out that I didn’t pay on the first date,” Peeta explained. “She’d think that it would be a horrible start to our epic love story.”

“I like your mom already,” Katniss told him. “How’s six sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Katniss!”

They turned to find a pretty blonde and a dark-haired woman with a squared gaze approaching.

“My sister and one of my associates,” Katniss told him. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small case and taking out a business card. “My cell number is on it—text me when you can, and we can go over details for tonight.”

“Sure,” he replied in a daze.

Taking her sandwich—they both had foregone eating—Katniss stood, but not before pressing a kiss to his cheek and giving him a breathtaking smile.

“I’m looking forward to tonight.”

+++++++

Over texts, Katniss and Peeta decided to meet at an Italian restaurant close to her apartment.

“I can’t believe you asked that guy out!” Johanna, her roommate and one of the other lawyers in the firm, said from her seat on Katniss’ bed. “You, who won’t even agree to coffee when any other man offers, asked a construction worker out to dinner.”

“He’s not just a construction worker,” Katniss protested. “He’s Peeta Mellark, a guy who I think is really nice and easy to talk to—”

“And let’s not forget the ass,” came a shout from Prim, who was searching in Katniss’ walk-in closet. “Don’t act like you weren’t looking at it when he got up to go back to work, Katniss.” Prim stepped into her bedroom, holding a deep-purple dress with a v-neckline and three-quarter sleeves. “I knew you tried to hide my birthday present! Put this on so he can rip it off you.”

Katniss scowled at her. “Who taught you to talk like that?”

“You did,” Prim retorted with a cheeky grin. “Now, go and get ready. I’ll lay out some underthings for you.”

Katniss headed towards her bathroom.

“Prim, I’m not sure how long it’s been since anyone’s been down there,” Johanna quipped. “You might want to pick something that covers that jungle.”

“I’m on it,” her sister replied as Katniss was about to close the door. “Tonight, we’re just emphasizing her boobs.”

“Good luck with that,” her friend retorted.

++++++

Their dinner was going surprisingly well.

Katniss hadn’t been on a date for almost a year and she had worried over the thought as she walked over to the restaurant

That was until she saw him.

Peeta cleaned up nicely, meeting her in a dark green sweater, fitted jeans, and brown oxfords. In his hand was a single pink peony, which he held out to her after kissing her cheek in greeting.

They both settled at their table, ordering quickly (eggplant parmigiana for her and lasagna for him) before falling right into easy conversation.

Peeta’s family owned the construction company that he worked for though, he was the only family member who worked onsite besides his father. Peeta’s mother worked at the home office as the company’s administrator. He had two brothers, one of which owned his own bakery business and ran it with his wife who had been his high school sweetheart.

“I think you’d like Delly,” he told her. “She’s very down-to-earth which works out perfectly because Rye is all sorts of insane. He’s the kind of guy who will wake up in the middle of the night to make the perfect chocolate cake. Luckily enough, Delly is the kind of girl who will stay up and write out everything he’s done because he’s forgotten by morning.”

“And, your other brother?”

“Runs a small hotel upstate. It’s the perfect place for Christmas,” Peeta said. “Andy and his partner Gale turned the place into one of the top hotels to experience wintertime. It does help that they both have a great sense of style.”

“So, your brother is—”

“Gay as the day is long as he would put it.” Peeta grinned. “He and Gale have been together forever. They’re one of the most stable couples I know.” He met her eyes. “How about you?”

“I grew up about an hour out of the city. My parents were high school sweethearts, married right out of high school. Had me about a year after their wedding and four years after me, Prim was born.”

Katniss stopped for a moment, taking a long sip. This part was always the hardest to explain.

“My father passed away when I was six and Prim was two,” she continued. “My mom brought us here to the city to stay with my Uncle Haymitch while she got back on her feet and find a job. We woke up the next day after arriving at his place and she was gone.”

“Oh God, Katniss—” Peeta reached over, covering her hand with his. “—I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t feel sorry for us. It was probably the best thing she could have done for us,” Katniss told him, her voice still a little thick. She gave him a wet smile. “Feel bad for my Uncle—single guy in his prime having to take on two young girls. Did you know when I got my period, he bought five different types of pads? I know, too much information—”

“I like learning about you, Katniss,” he told her. “Every little bit I’ve learned, I like.”

“I feel the same way.”

It was true. Everything she learned about man before her had only compounded the growing feelings inside her. Peeta was breath of fresh air in her staid routine and every bit of time with him made her feel like she was slowly coming back to life.

Peeta squeezed her hand, she didn’t realize their hands were still pressed together—but she didn’t mind it.

“Go on,” he urged with an eager smile. “Tell me more.”

“When I was in sixth grade, my uncle came for a parent-teacher conference and met my teacher, Effie Trinket. A year later, he married her. She’s great, got me through those tough girl years. She and my Uncle are disgustingly in love.” She snorted, taking a long sip of water. “That’s my odd little family.”

“Have you heard from your mom?” Peeta asked curiously.

Katniss shook her head.

“I don’t have a real desire to. I’m not mad at her anymore, but I can’t say I’d be thrilled to see her again. Prim doesn’t even remember her. She calls Uncle Haymitch and Aunt Effie Mom and Dad.” She sat back, giving him an embarrassed smile. “That was more unloading than I intended for a first date.”

“Honestly, I’ve been watching you for a while,” Peeta revealed. “Finnick is sick to death of hearing me talk about the gorgeous brunette next door. That’s why he whistled at you; it was to save his ears from my own insecurities when it came to you.” His face had gone red. “I know you’re some big-time lawyer and I’m just some guy—”

Katniss shook her head. “You’re not just some guy.”

Peeta grinned. “I hope not.”

After he paid for dinner, they decided to walk to her apartment since it was a warm night.

As they strolled down the block, his hand brushed against hers before carefully grasping her fingers. Katniss took the initiative, entwining their fingers together, and Peeta turned to her, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.

She felt the heat rise up her body, her center twisting at the feel of his rough lips to her skin. She had to wonder how those lips would feel against the rest of her body, specifically between her thighs.

It had been a long time since she had sex.

“Nice place,” Peeta said as they approached the luxury apartment complex. “I know the company that worked on them, Beetee Latier is a smart guy and I’m willing to bet that this place is very up-to-date when it comes to virtual assistance.”

“I’ve never tried it, but Johanna has said that she can tell the apartment when it’s too cold,” Katniss told him offhandedly. “And it raises the temperature according to what is comfortable.” They stop outside the entrance and she turned to him. “Thanks for dinner and the conversation.”

“Thank you for giving me a chance,” Peeta replied.

His hand reached, cupping her cheek and his thumb brush against the edge of her bottom lip before dropping to his side. Katniss felt every nerve pulsate at his touch and she had desperately fought the urge to take his thumb into her mouth to taste him.

She wanted to ask him to come up, but her need to not seem so desperate dampened her longing.

Reaching into her purse, Katniss took out her keys, giving him a shy smile. She quickly kissed him on the cheek.

“Good night, Peeta.”

His hand reached to a tendril of her hair, caressing it with his fingers as if he were trying to memorize the feel of it between them.

When Peeta met her eyes, her breath caught at the desire in his darkened blues. “Good night, Katniss.”

“Fuck it—”

Katniss snapped, her keys dropping to the ground in a loud clink, as her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled his mouth against hers. Peeta gasped in surprise before catching himself and circling his arms around her waist to pull her close.

He tasted delicious, her tongue surrounding his as she feasted on him. Her hand reached to grasp at his hair and the moan that tumbled from his mouth cause the fire inside her to flare. She had never wanted anything or anyone as much as she wanted the feel of him against her.

His lips slid off hers, pressing to her neck, his tongue sampling her.

“What are you doing to me, Katniss Everdeen?” he asked breathlessly, the intensity of his question sending shivers through her skin.

Katniss met his eyes, her chest heaving as she felt the rapid beat of her heart.

“I’m taking you upstairs.”

 So, there’s going to be a 2nd part to this. I’m having too much fun.

Yeah, I’ve been shipping Gale with the eldest brother since TWC.

[mcavoy-mayhem]

Prompts✨

Give me a number (or a few) and McAvoy character or Mr. McAvoy himself of course :) And anything else you might wanna add. (I write for most if not all of James' characters and plus size and/or LGBTQ+ readers).

“Last time I checked that wasn’t the line for this scene... Or any scene actually”

“I do not look adorable!”

“You’re about as charming as a dead slug”

“Who says kilts aren't manly?!”

“You’d better hope I’m dreaming or I’m telling everyone”

“No you’ve agreed with me now, you can’t take it back”

“You are as dumb as a rock, so it’s a good job I love you”

“In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?” “You”

“If your partner calls you ‘selfish’, ‘weird’ and a bit ‘sick’, it’s over, yeah?”

“What do you mean you want a divorce?! We aren't even married!”

“You do know shoes are for your feet right?”

“Now I see why you don’t wear pink... You look like you got bled on by pixies”

“I’d say you're scary but... I’ve seen goldfish more intimidating”

“How ’bout I lick your lips instead?”

“Next time I see your face I’m gonna kiss it so hard-”

“Trust me darling, my bite is much worse than my bark”

“As a kid, I had this reoccurring dream that I got pushed of a tall building but that talking cat Garfield, so as long as you’re sure I don’t have to scale a building today, I’d be happy to eat waffles for breakfast”

“You need to calm down, I thought there was an elephant stampede making it’s way up the stairs”

“When did we get a fist-sized hole in the kitchen wall?”

“Now, when I said kinky boots, I sorta meant the musical...”

“Not that you don’t look absolutely stunning, but could I please have my shirt back?”

“Ok, do whatever you need, just don’t get blood on your outfit, we have dinner at 6”

“We are NOT calling it ‘Jellybean’ ”

“I’m not insecure, yellow just isn't my colour”

“I promise I am listening, it’s just a lot of stupidity to take in all at once”

“You should wear handcuffs more often, makes you look cute”

“You can’t just call shotgun on a person???”

“How have you gone through your entire life and never watched TOY STORY???”

“How do I say this... This, right here, the thing you’re running? It’s pretty much just a cult-”

“I had a puppy who was more mature than you are acting currently”

“If hear another one of your ‘Oprah Winfrey eats children to stay young’ theories, I am going to scream!”

“First of all, that was just unnecessary and slightly hurtful... Second of all, I would smash you at Guitar Hero World Tour and anyone who says otherwise is a liar”

“Can’t you just stay home and play Wii Bowling with me?”

“Sometimes it's hard to remember if you grew out of your ‘angsty teen’ phase”

“I get you're in pain and everything but please don't bleed all over the new bed sheet”

“What’s with all the dad jokes?”

“You see most girls would go for a guy like Channing Tatum”

“Should I even ask why there's a giant carrot plush in the bed or??”

“What’s Minecraft and why would we put our beds together?”

“Excuse me?! I can dance!”

“We’re supposed to be working. We need to focus..... Do it again”

“I’m supposed to say that first!”

“Strawberry Jam?? What sort of nickname is that?”

“Well if you really love this person just go kiss them you fool!”

“Elevators scare me”

“Next time, rather than trying to trick me, just tell me you're giving me a love potion, I'd happily drink it”

“That was the worst excuse for asking me on a date I've ever heard”

“No... Nothing about you being dressed as a hedgehog is 'sexy'...”

“You used to play recorder? You could have fooled me, I think my ears are bleeding”

“I know I'm no Sherlock Holmes, however I don't think I need to be to figure this one out”

“I know you said you hate cheesy pick up lines but I've been waiting to use this one, please let me???”

“You really have stop hiding how you feel about me, it doesn't make a difference, I already know”

“Would you be so kind as to fall in love with me?”

“Oh, baby I'm yours till the stars fall from the sky, I swear and no, the shooting star that just shot past my head doesn't count”

“They say do what you love, so why don't we go back to my place?”

“Talk nerdy to me”

“Why don't we go do something romantic?” “like eating tacos in the rain?”

“You have the stamina of a horse and are as profilic as a rabbit”

“I love you but sometimes I sure do wish someone would gag you”

“Could this be love at first sight or should I walk by again?”

“Well if it isn't Rudolph the red nose reindeer in my bed”

“You release other people have to eat on that right?”

“It's like being given toast which you expect to have blackberry jam on but it turns out to marmite. You're disappointed but are you really surprised?”

“You ever feel really insignificant in this big city?”

“Have you noticed how everyone gives their pets normal names like 'Charlie' or 'Fred' but you? No you call your pets 'Salmon' and 'Jaffa cake'”

“Why are you dancing around the kitchen like a goose?”

“I'll have you know that all my systems are nervous thank you very much”

“You look as red as a cherry tomato, are you ok?”

“I'm not as think as you drunk I am”

“And how exactly did you end up in the tree?”

“If you can get me to go to bed with you in the next... 7 minutes I'll let you by the cat”

“I'm rather good with my hands if I say so myself”

“Why do I have to buy YOU the drink what if I wanna be treated like a princess?”

“How are you THAT bad at putting a shirt on?” “Maybe you should help me”

“Yeah in you're dreams” “That's exactly the problem”

“Oh my gosh the sleeves are rolled, the fore arms are out! This must be some serious business”

“Actually I was thinking I could be you're Christmas present”

“No, no I do not have a fountain pen kink”

“Stop talking before I change my mind”

“You squeal like a mouse on crack”

“You were trying to make me jealous with them??”

“I completely understand how much you wanna fuck me however this is a very public area”

[mermaidenisaacs]

isaac is a soft warm husband

it’s the night of lydia and malia’s bachelorette party and isaac is concerned by his wife’s drunken texts and questionable appearances on other people’s snapchat stories.  

romance/humor, married au, isaac is very fond of his wife 

warnings: graphic sexual language

To clarify, going to Dildopolis was Lydia’s idea, not mine. 

Lydia’s bachelorette party turned out to be a pretty wild night. After dinner and drinks, Kira surprised us with a party bus. She also invited the men from the strip club to join us, so we all piled in, and danced and drank as we were driven around the city. 

We figured Malia wouldn’t mind that her bride-to-be would be grinding with oily, shirtless men with perfectly sculpted six packs the night before she got married; after all, she was the one who pulled the youngest dancer, Lito, between her and Lydia and made a human gyrating sandwich.

Isaac texted me around 1 am, right after I’d downed another shot of fireball whiskey. 

Isaac (1:10 am): Looks like you’re having a good time

I was confused by his text and showed it to Erica, who explained that it was probably because she had posted a video of me on her Snapchat story licking salt off of one of the stripper’s abs. If she kept this up, I’d be divorced by the time Lydia got married. With blurry vision and sloppy fingers, I texted him back, determined to make actual words happen. 

me (1:13 am): hhe was hot butt uknoww I like your soft tummmy mre

Dildopolis was a sex store at the corner of Baker Street and Cedar Drive. Lydia noticed its bright flashy neon sign and pointed out that it wouldn’t be a bachelorette party without stopping at the local sex shop. She had a fair point. 

I tried to my best not to let on that I’d never been to a sex store, but all the alcohol was breaking down my cool exterior. Stumbling into one of the aisles, I came across a jar of multicolored circular rubbery things, which turned out to be flavored condoms. It was Kira who found me, doubled over in laughter with tears in my eyes.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, rubbing my back. 

I held up a blue condom that purported to be mint flavored. Wheezing through breaths of laughter, I slurred, “It’s a blue condom, Kira. Why would anyone want to turn their dick blue? Who is trying to have sex with smurf dick? Also, does this mean people are putting on condoms to give head?” Kira and I held on to each other while we sobbed from giggling so hard. 

“You should get one of these for Isaac,” she drunkenly suggested. I finally managed to calm down, but after hearing her recommendation, another round of giggles ensued. 

“Oh my god, can you imagine me going up to Isaac being like, ‘Honey, I think my breath smells bad. Mind if I have a taste of that minty dick before work?” Kira doubled over in laughter. Another condom caught my eye, an orange one that looked surprisingly appealing. “Hey look, this is citrus! I like this flavor. You know what, screw it, I’m getting it. I think Lahey might be a little mad at me, so I’m gonna get him a present. The gift of blowjob!” I declared with bright hopes. 

“You totally should! No guy’s gonna turn down an enthusiastic, flavored blowjob. Trust me,” Kira said like she was relaying classified government information. 

I paused. “Wait, have you and Scott…?” 

“...chocolate is our favorite flavor.” 

“Oh my god, they have chocolate?!”

~*~*~*~

My first visit to Dildopolis was not a frugal excursion. I ended up buying two twelve packs of flavored condoms, and nearly skipped out of the store with my tiny gift bag, eager to show Isaac my latest investment.

An hour later, the party bus dropped me off at my house. Malia and Lydia walked me to my front door and I hugged them for a little too long, probably. 

“You guys are the best, the best! I loooove you, and I love love, and I love the lesbians, I love your hair, Lydia--” Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me and saved Lydia from my rambling. I was hugged from behind into someone’s warm chest. I looked up to see a tuft of curly hair blowing in the wind. It was Isaac, smiling down at me. 

“Hi baby,” he said warmly. “Did you have something to drink?” 

“My husband!” I exclaimed in drunken thrill. “My husband, I love you so dearly, you’re so tall and good, babyyy you smell so good, how do you always smell like cinnamon buns…” Turning around, I stood on my tip toes and sponged open-mouthed kisses along Isaac’s throat. He lovingly stroked my hair and awkwardly bid Lydia and Malia goodnight. 

“Thanks so much for dropping her off,” he said. “Congratulations on everything. I’m so happy for you two,” Isaac sweetly intoned, then walked us inside our home. 

I stumbled into our living room, set down the gift bag, and began what my inebriated brain firmly believed was a perfect seduction process. While I wasn’t as wasted as I had been earlier, I was still slightly tipsy, and very excited to give Isaac his present. 

If only I could remember how to take off my clothes. I fiddled uselessly with the buttons of my coat. Isaac watched me struggle with an amused twinkle in his eyes. After many failed attempts, I pouted at him. “Isaaaac,” I whined. “Can you help me take my clothes off?” 

He chuckled and relented. He took off my coat and helped me out of my heels, all the while steadying me as I teetered every which way. 

“What’s that?” he asked curiously. He was looking at the small silver bag I’d brought home that was on the coffee table. He reached over to retrieve it. 

I slapped his hand. “No! It’s a surprise,” I said with a grin. 

“A surprise? I’m surprised you had time to stop somewhere and buy something. Didn’t it get in the way of all the stripper licking fun?” he said grumpily.

“Aw, babyyy,” I cooed and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Were you jealous? I’m sorry, I was really drunk, but you know it didn’t mean anything. And you know I’m not lying, wolfie,” I said, tapping his ear. 

Isaac sighed. “I know. I just didn’t know there would be strippers.” 

I nodded and apologized again. “I know you’re upset, but not to worry! That’s what the present is for. Come on, husband, let’s go to the bedroom!” 

He should have been used to this behavior by now; I was always a happy and horny drunk. I grabbed the gift bag and tugged on Isaac’s hand, pulling him behind me. When we reached our bed, I lightly shoved him so he fell back on the mattress. 

“Feeling a little aggressive, Mrs. Lahey?” Isaac teased. He leaned up on his elbows and grinned at me. I shivered. He knew I liked it when he called me that. 

“Just… excited to show you the present,” I said bashfully, throwing a smile over my shoulder. “Now take off your pants, Mr. Lahey.” 

Isaac’s pupils dilated and his smile disappeared, replaced with a look of longing and lust. He obeyed wordlessly. I unzipped my dress, pulling it over my head. When I finished undressing, I was left in a set of matching black lacy lingerie. (Lydia had hand picked the party favors, and she decided I looked best in black.) Isaac was laying on our bed, completely naked, smirking with sinful intentions. 

His eyes raked hungrily over my body, and all of a sudden, I remembered what I intended to do, and I felt really, really silly. And very embarrassed. 

“I bought flavored condoms,” I suddenly blurted out. The sexy mood I’d successfully cultivated came to a screeching halt. 

Isaac blinked. “What?” 

I sighed and pulled out the contraceptives. “They’re flavored condoms. That’s the surprise. It seemed like such a good idea at the sex store--”

“You went to a sex store?” Isaac interrupted. He was biting back a grin. “Was this your first time at a sex store?”

“Yes,” I said sadly. “And I got a whole bunch of these condoms, but I was also really wasted. And now that I’m not as wasted, I just feel really dumb,” I finished lamely. I plopped down on the bed beside Isaac and looked down. “I’m sorry. I ruined the sexiness.”

Isaac chuckled affectionately. “Baby, it’s okay. You didn’t ruin anything. Here, let me see those.” He took the condoms from me and inspected each one. “Holy shit, I had no idea this was a thing.” 

“Neither did I! That orange one looks the least gross.” 

“Yeah?” Isaac looked up, eyes wide with surprise. He grinned wickedly. “Wanna try it?” 

I gaped. “Really? You want to?” I asked shyly. 

“Yeah, why not. Not about to turn down a blowjob from my gorgeous wife,” he said smirking. He kissed the corner of my mouth. 

I laughed and kissed him back. Fisting his curls, I laid on top of Isaac while we made out. He squeezed my ass and pulled me closer, and his tongue lightly swiped across my bottom lip. I felt him, hard and ready, and pressed against my thigh. I licked my palm and rubbed him, and he hissed at the initial contact. 

“Mr. Lahey?” 

“Hm?”

“I’m like weirdly excited for this.”

Isaac chuckled fondly. “Cute.”

Sitting up, I tore open the condom wrapper and licked the rubber. The taste settled on my tongue. It was vaguely citrusy. 

“Hm, not terrible,” I described. I rolled the rubber onto Isaac’s erect shaft. Once more, the sexiness came to an abrupt stop. 

One look at Isaac’s bright orange dick, and I fell backwards laughing. 

“Oh my god,” I gasped between fits of laughter. “Honey, that looks so ridiculous! It’s just so, oh god, it’s just so dumb.” I was crying now, wiping away tears before they ruined my makeup. 

Isaac stared at it, transfixed with disbelief. There was so much confusion and horror in his expression. 

“It’s… orange,” he said, bewildered at the surprisingly bright apricot hue. “Babe, my dick is orange. They should’ve called this condom The Donald Trump.” 

Laughter bubbled in my throat again and I fell into his side, laughing into his shoulder. This time, he joined me. 

“I still maintain this is better than the blue ones,” I said. “At least you don’t have smurf dick.” 

Isaac looked at me confused, then erupted into giggles. “Yikes. Well, what should we do?” he asked, frowning at his erection. He looked so annoyed at his own body. My original intent was to ease his annoyance, and I was going to see this through, dammit. 

“We’re gonna do what we came here to do,” I replied, biting back another laugh. 

“You don’t have to--” I shushed Isaac’s protests with a kiss, and straddled his legs. I wrapped my fist around his cock, which had shriveled slightly during our laughing fit. Leaning down, I tried to ignore the bright tangerine color and gave it some experimental licks. 

The unpleasant color was easy to ignore once I heard Isaac’s groan of pleasure. I closed my mouth around the head and swirled my tongue around him, trying to extract more of the slightly sweet orange taste. I didn’t actually expect the flavor to be enticing, but it did actually motivate me to keep going. Slowly, I moved my mouth lower down his shaft, taking him inch by inch. 

“Fuck, baby,” Isaac groaned. “That feels so good, just like that…” His hand came down and sweetly brushed away strands of loose hair from my face. He collected all my hair into a makeshift ponytail and tugged. The pressure felt so good on my scalp that it urged me to take him deeper. 

It would be expected that being married to him would let me get used to Isaac’s size. He wasn’t the biggest I’d ever seen, but he was still considerable, and I had to take him just as slowly each time (unless it was one of those nights where we wanted it rough and hard and fast and the sex was on the good side of painful). 

I had taken nearly all of Isaac when he reached the back of my throat. My eyes involuntarily stung with tears, but no part of me wanted to stop. Isaac helped me. He held me down with one hand, and combed his fingers through my scalp with the other. 

“That’s good baby, that feels so fucking perfect. You take me so good,” Isaac grunted. 

He finally let go, finally let me move away to breathe. I didn’t wait long to take him back in, suctioning my lips around his shaft as I bobbed my head up and down. I knew he was about to come because I could hear him panting, could see him white-knuckling the bedspread and clenching his stomach. 

I released him with a tiny pop. “Come on baby, are you gonna come for me?” I purred encouragingly and vigorously pumped his shaft with my fist. “That’s it, you’re so close, you’re so fucking close…” 

“I can’t, I can’t hold on, I’m coming,” Isaac harshly whispered. He grunted my name and I made fast work rolling off the condom. Isaac firmly cupped my chin and entered my mouth again. He quivered on my tongue, then released down my throat, coating my mouth. 

Isaac stared at me, dazed and fucked out, and fondly stroked my cheek. He tugged on my arms and pulled me next to him, cradling me against his chest. 

“How was that for you?” he asked a little nervously. 

“Good, actually. You?”

“I liked it,” he said quietly.

I smiled victoriously. “Then it’s a good thing we have twenty three more condoms.” Isaac snorted. “We can always borrow some from Scott and Kira if we run out.” 

Isaac gaped. “I’m sorry, what? They’ve used these too?” 

I nodded. “Where do you think I got the idea?” 

Isaac smiled into another kiss. “You’re incredible, Mrs. Lahey.” 

*

another’s note: i found another isaac fic from my old blog. thank god for google docs. pls let me know what you think or interact with me bc i love talking about isaac and the world is on fire ahaa <3

[et-lesailes]

hot young neighbor

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2233

summary: you’re not expecting such a sexy next door neighbor upon moving into your new home. you already know you want to make a move, but he seems to do it first when he invites you over for dinner.

themes: smut, age gap, oral sex

taglist: @evanstush, @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @whysparker, @sebastian-i-stan, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @heyiamthatbitch, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @bangtan-serendipity, @troublermalik, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @bookish-shristi, @kind-sober-fullydressed,  @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly,  @denisemarieangelina,  @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @ifuseekamyevans, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie, @rororo06, @savemesteeb, @raveviolet, @inactivewhore, @hurricanerin, @captainamerica-is-bae, @shaddixlife, @tessa-bl, @marvelouspottering, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc, @thegetawaywriter, @dwights-new-plague, @rynabarnesrogers, @fckdeusername, @doloreschanal, @ssworldofsw

notes: sorry, this was supposed to be posted earlier but my laptop was getting fixed! hope you guys enjoy!

You’re going for a run in your new neighborhood when you see him.

You had just moved in a few days ago, and while you had already gotten to introduce yourselves to a lot of your neighbors, he’s the one you’re most interested in, and haven’t gotten a chance to talk to yet, either. He lives in the house right next door, and you sometimes see him from your window when he’s pulling up in his driveway or on the lawn throwing a football with whom you assume to be his son. You have yet to see a woman around, though, which pleases you.

He’s hot. Sexy, really, you’ve never seen someone as attractive as him. While casually digging for dirt when talking to the other neighbors, you only know his name and his occupation, but nothing about his love life. 

You glance down at yourself, happy that you’ve chosen your cuter workout apparel consisting of a sports bra and matching leggings. Coming to a stop in front of his house, you call out just as he’s about to open his front door, his arm carrying what appears to be takeout. 

“Hey! Sorry to bother ya, I just wanted to introduce myself- I just moved in next door.”

He turns around and although it’s quick, you notice his blue eyes take in your appearance. Your entire appearance. Just what you wanted. A charming but genuine smile crosses his lips, nearly making you swoon. “Oh, hey there! Sorry, I’ve been meaning to come by to say hi. Work’s been crazy this week, though, hence-” he pauses to nod towards the bag, “- Chinese for dinner tonight, no time to cook.” He sets the bag down by the door, though, coming over to you and extending his hand. “I’m Andy.”

Now it’s your turn to eye the perfectly form fitting outfit he’s wearing, that coat, the button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the tie, the dress pants. “You must work somewhere fancy, huh?” you tease (even though you already know). Shaking his hand, you reply, “Y/N. Nice to finally meet you!” 

He laughs, and the mere noise in itself is arousing. It’s so warm and deep, you want to hear more of it. “I’m an assistant district attorney. And it’s very nice to meet you, too.” You swear you catch a bit of an emphasis on that “very”, and you smile up at him biting your lip. “I’ll let you get back to dinner, I’m sure your family must be waiting.”

“Actually,” he sighs, looking back towards the door before looking at you, “it’s just me tonight. My son, Jacob- he’s at his mom’s place for the weekend.” He suddenly tilts his head. “Would you wanna join me, actually? I got way too much food, to be honest. Got a little overexcited when I was looking at that menu.”

You can’t believe how lucky you are- sure, you wanted to get to know your incredibly cute neighbor, but you never thought it would happen so fast and so smoothly. “Really? You’re sure? Because that sounds great.” You smile, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I still have, like, no food at home. I’ll just go take a quick shower first, I’m kinda gross and sweaty right now.” You laugh, and he chuckles too. “Gross? No way. But yeah, sure, come on over whenever you’re ready- I’ll leave the door unlocked.” He gives you a smile and you return it, trying not to look as eager as you are as you turn back to your house to get ready. 

Dinner with Andy is amazing. The two of you sit at his dining table and talk the night away, chatting about everything under the sun. He’s a perfect gentleman, always offering a drink the second yours is finished, urging you to eat more, and not even taking any phone calls while he’s in the middle of conversation with you. After eating, the two of you decide to watch a movie together- it’s Friday night, after all, neither of you have anywhere to be the next morning.

You’re walking to the living room when you notice a family photo on the credenza. “Is this Jacob? And your… ex wife?” you question, picking it up and observing it with interest. “It’s a really cute photo.” He looks over and nods, barely smiling though shrugging slightly. “Yeah. It was taken kinda recently, actually. Laurie and I divorced not too long after…”

“How are you doing with all of that?” you ask softly, coming over to the living room and sitting down on the couch. He aims the remote at the television, currently working on finding the movie you guys had decided on. “Honestly? Fine. Our marriage was a little messy for a while. I think in a way, I was always bracing myself for this to happen.” You listen to him somewhat curious, wondering how on Earth a woman could just let herself lose a man like him. He’s practically sex on legs. 

“So are ya dating again?” you ask playfully, and he glances at you amused. “Hmm. Wouldn’t you like to know,” he replies in jest, and you laugh, nibbling on your lower lip. “I guess you’re not. I doubt a girlfriend would be very happy you invited the new neighbor half your age into your home for dinner alone, hm?” you muse with a smirk, and he scoffs in amusement. “Excuse me? Half my age?” He suddenly pauses and shakes his head playfully. “You know what? Don’t elaborate on that, you’re probably right. But yeah, I’m not seeing anyone right now.” 

“That’s kind of surprising.” You blurt out, unable to help yourself. You’ve always had the tendency to speak your mind. “You’re, like, the most attractive guy I’ve met here.” He blinks in surprise but chuckles lowly, pressing play before coming to sit next to you. “Well. Thank you. And to think my son told me I had to step up my game.” You laugh softly, biting on your lip somewhat mischievously. “Yeah, I think you’re definitely doing just fine…”

He looks down at you, his expression suddenly becoming a little more serious. You’re practically lost in his deep blue eyes, staring back up at him as your heart begins to pound a little. It’s definitely happening. You can feel it. Whether this was always his intention or not, you’re unsure, but you know he wants you just as badly as you want him. 

It all happens so fast. His hands are grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap, his lips against yours in a furiously heated kiss, his arms wrapping entirely around you to keep you close to his body. You kiss him back now straddling his lap comfortably, your hands already lunging for the buttons of his shirt to push it off. His grunts of arousal are turning you on more and more, showcasing his absolute need and hunger; it’s clear he's been deprived ever since his divorce, and you’re more than happy to give him what he’s been ravenous for. You let him pull your top off, adjusting yourself so you can remove your shorts. He pulls back and stares at your half naked body, already panting. 

“Fuck. I forgot how sexy girls your age are,” he mumbles as his eyes rake over your figure, hands running up your waist to squeeze your breasts through your bra before traveling down to dig his fingers into your ass. “So damn tight and perky in all the right places…” You giggle breathlessly, unbuckling his belt as you lick your lips. “I think you’ll find I have a lot more… enthusiasm, too.” 

You slowly slide off him, getting down onto your knees in between his legs. He looks shocked but pleasantly surprised when you push down his pants and briefs, his teeth digging into his lower lip in anticipation when you curl your fingers around his thick length. You can’t help but stare a little, somewhat intimidated by his shaft though excited at the same time. Looking up at his expression, you barely smirk. “What’s wrong, Andy? Your ex-wife didn’t like to get down on her knees for you?” You use your other hand to rub his thigh slowly as if to comfort him, leaning down to give his tip little kitten licks. “Mm… because I’d do it for ya anytime…”

He lets out a groan, bucking his hips already in greed. “Fuck, don’t tease, Y/N. You did enough of that today standing outside my house in that tiny little bra and those tight pants.” He mutters through clenched teeth, and you blink before giggling lightly, pumping his base. “Oh? You were checking me out even then, huh?” 

“Of course I was… who wouldn’t be?” he growls, suddenly reaching out and grabbing a fistful of your hair, jerking your head forward. “Suck my damn dick already, honey, I want to fuck the back of your goddamn throat…” 

You gasp slightly but feel the wetness pool between your legs upon the pet name and dirty talk, immediately leaning forward to wrap your lips around him. You’ve never wanted to please someone so bad. He’s older, much older, and all you want to do is impress him. You bob your head up and down as your tongue swirls around his length, enjoying the sounds of his pleasured grunts and groans, looking up to see his eyes practically half shut. “Shit. You’re doing so good, honey, so… fucking good.” He hisses, clenching your hair tighter as he bucks his hips upwards. “Keep going, just like that…”

You feel his cock hitting the back of your throat, your coughs muffled from how full your mouth is. You don’t want to stop, though. You want to do everything you can to please him, to show him just what a good neighbor you are. You keep sucking, peering up at him through hooded eyes, moving your tongue skillfully to draw him closer to his edge. “Oh… oh, fuck…!” he growls, his grip on your hair tightening. “Oh, baby, I’m gonna cum…”

He releases down your throat, his shoulders finally dropping as he releases his hold on your hair. You hum happily as you swallow his load, gasping for air immediately after, your chest heaving up and down. He scoffs in awe as he stares down at you, nibbling on his lip hungrily. “You look so good taking my cock like that, honey. But I want to taste you now.” 

You squeak in surprise when he hoists you up, carrying you upstairs and to his bedroom with ease. You don’t even have time to look around before he tosses you down onto the bed on your back, crawling over and leaning down to leave a trail of kisses all the way from your collarbone, over the tops of your breasts, down your stomach and to the hem of your panties. He playfully bites on the lace to lower them down, making you giggle breathlessly. He stares at your soaked pussy, his blue eyes practically a shade darker from lust. “Look at you. All pretty and wet just for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fervor. “Taste me,” you whine, shivering slightly from the cool air now upon your entrance, arching your back desperately. “Please, Andy, I want you to tongue fuck me so bad.” 

He groans just from hearing you. “What a naughty girl. I can’t believe how lucky I am you moved in right next door.” He smirks and leans in, swiping his tongue across your dripping folds. You whine slowly as your eyes flutter shut, fingers grasping the bedsheets. “Mm… something tells me I’ll be here just as much as… at my house…”

“I think so too.” His voice is low and husky, his sharp features displaying nothing but carnal hunger. He nibbles teasingly around the edges of your entrance before pushing his tongue inside, hands gripping your thighs to keep your legs spread apart. Plunging in and out, spitting once to create more wetness and saliva, his tongue travels all over and laps up everything it can get. He’s grunting to himself in enjoyment, his lips even finding your clit as he sucks on it carefully but excitedly, his fingers wrapping behind to squeeze your ass. You can’t help but moan loudly, your breaths airy and uneven, the occasional gasp coming out accompanied by pitchy and pleasured hums. “Andy…!”

“Mm… mmm…. so good…” he mumbles to himself in between, his tongue working your clit and wet core expertly and sending you closer and closer over the edge. “Oh! Ooh… I’m… I’m close…!” 

You finally release and he happily cleans you all up, exhaling deeply as a satisfied smirk crosses his lips. He pulls back only to come lay next to you, his bare chest moving up and down with his irregular breaths and his fluffy brown hair now slightly tousled from his head in between your thighs. You look up at him with an amused and breathless smile, raising an eyebrow playfully innocent as you whisper, “Did I taste good…?”

“Incredibly.” He answers with a low scoff, suddenly rolling over to face you and throwing his arm around you. “You make the perfect dessert. And I think I’m going to want you every night.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m right next door…”