#but im on my phone and dont want to go through the effort of making italicized words for that

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Warden stared, open mouthed, at the demon in front of them. He was alive. He was really alive. It didn't seem real, and they were half tempted to pinch their skin between their thumb and forefinger. A voice spoke up. A normal human one. Not the shifting cadence of the creature who identified himself as Hush. The murderer.

Nor the calming lull of Vega's voice in their head. Warden turned their gaze towards the human, recognizing their Freelancer core instantly. Their eyes narrowed slightly.

"He uh," Hush stepped between the human and Warden, a warning expression placed on his face. The human continued speaking from around Hush. "He said he doesn't remember anything since the Cacophany?"

...

What?

Warden's head snapped back to look at Vega, eyes widening once more. The closer they looked the easier it was to see the lack of recognition. None of the warmth that had slowly filled his eyes throughout his interactions with them. Their hands clenched into fists, nails digging into their palms.

"But you can help!" Hush chirped. Warden didn't look at Hush, keeping their eyes on the demon they had once thought of as untouchable. This was an absolute disaster.

[diejager]

random thought but… stepdad!König fucking reader after finding out they wanna be in a relationship with him and saying “I’m going to marry you” or “I’ll make you mine one day” or smth like that. 🤭 and dbf!Horangi just kinda agreeing with him while sandwiching reader from the back, already having an idea of being the husband’s best friend that fucks his wifey 💝💝💝

—🎀—

Gah- that pink bow has my heart😵‍💫 cw: smut, STEPCEST, DUB-CON, creampie, sex marathon?, phone sex? Double penetration, p in v, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cheating, marriage, tell me if I missed any.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe, his knees weak and fingers twitching, his cheeks flushed with the joy he felt. Your little confession riled him up, your sweet tears and pout gave him the hardest erection he’d ever lived. Sweet, innocent words that would’ve seemed blasphemous to any other, sounded erotic, making his blood boil and arousal simmer under his skin. It worked through his body with tight and rushing pleasure, pumping blood down to his engorged cock and heavy balls.

“I want you,” sealed the deal, commanding his body to pound you into your bed, make you forget you ever had a life without him - he promised it.

And promised he did, he fucked you all day, pressing you down on your bed, folding you in half as keened loudly. The bed creaked and the wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it with every rock of his hips, fingers gripping your soft bedsheets and toes curling over his shoulder. You were stuck beneath him until the time he knew your mother would be back, taking every moment he had to watch his cock push in you and back out with a ring of cum and slick around his thick cock.

At first, he took you alone, slamming into your while you mewled out, your sweet sounds reaching the hungry ears of your neighbour on the phone. König had called Horangi in a blur, his mirth infectious, making Horangi happy, chuckling out praises to you and giving his word that he’d come by after his exercise at the gym. Your stepdad kept his friend on the phone, the Korean wearing EarPods during his whole course, working out with his cock throbbing and pushing against his shorts.

An hour in, waking up after you passed out in pleasure, eyes rolled to the back of your head in white pleasure, Horangi made himself home, naked and kneeling between your thighs. You let out a surprised moan, back arching when he drove his tongue inside your twitching hole, his thumb rolling your sensitive clit. He took his take taking you apart, watching you flay and cream all over him, covering is face with slick.

Near delirious and body oversensitive, you felt them push into you, softly alternating between both cocks stuffing your stretched cunt. You were trapped between them, body pushed back and fourth, feeling them fill you up, bottoming out, balls slapping the other man, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in. You bucked your hips, chasing their cocks, nails digging into Horangi’s shoulder, gasping and moaning with your legs spread open by König’s hands.

“I’ll marry you, ja, Schatz?” König growled, pumping you full of cum, womb stuffed full with his and Horangi’s charged load. “Breed you and make you mine.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait to suck your tits,” Horangi couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, mind conjuring every image of your swollen stomach and wobbling walk. “Drink your sweet milk.”

“Do you want that, Schnucki?”

All you could do was nod, throat sore from screaming and body limp in your stepfather’s arms, your eyes were heavy chest puffing with loud, exhausted breaths. You liked their idea, marrying, breeding, becoming theirs, perhaps their delusions finally got to you.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly

[honeytonedhottie]

what i learned during my reflection period⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧖🏽‍♀️🎀

as you may or may not have noticed, i've been hiatus for most of the month now. and i disappeared because of personal reasons, and one of those reasons being that i felt i needed to reflect. here are some things that i've learned and realized during my reflection time.

this is quite personal to me, but i wanted to kind of have a heart to heart with you guys and im sure that someone is probably struggling with what i mention in this post so i hope this is comforting...💬🎀

WHY I FELT STUCK IN MY LOA JOURNEY ;

i was literally doing the most and it felt like such a chore at the time. i would force myself to affirm in ways that felt unnatural, i was letting myself get bullied by the 3D, even though i KNOW i dont have to do a thing. i was putting way too much effort in the wrong way.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i took a step back and RELAXED. i did what felt natural again and enjoyed manifesting again and because of that i've had success story after success story...💬🎀

DOING A SELF AUDIT ;

i wanted to take a second and expose toxic behaviors and patterns that i noticed i exhibit and that have started to affect not only my physical but my mental in a very very negative way.

i'd been struggling with regulating my emotions and managing them so i was a walking ball of stress 💀. a beautiful ball of stress but stress nonetheless. i just felt so stuck.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went through the motions and after having a total meltdown and doing a bit of journalling i released everything, giving myself a completely clean slate once more.

i did a bit of a refresh and did miscellaneous things to make myself feel like im starting again. things like self concept work, changing the theme of my phone, taking an everything shower + bubble bath, having a pinterest makeover and getting a trim on my hair.

i forced myself to drink more water, and go for long walks not only to get some sunlight but to get my heart pumping and push myself out of the depressive rot that i had been in for months internally, but had pushed itself out as soon as summer started.

THE DEATH OF A SITUATIONSHIP ;

i got really attached to this boy 😭 but he was such a piece of work. like he did that hot and cold shit, but i rly rly liked him so i ignored the obvious red flags. but i got to a point where i just felt used and embarrassed. upon further reflection i think i didn't wanna let him go because he was so fine 💀, like 6'5 muscular kind of fine.

no matter how handsome a guy is if he has an ugly personality or if he just treats u badly then hes not fine at all...💬🎀

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went no contact. thats like the easiest way to get over someone i think lol. i went no contact and i just manifested better things for myself. like being asked out by a bunch of guys and wingstop to comfort myself 🧋

also i focused on what i got out of the whole thing. i got the redirection that i wanted, PLUS i was filled with inspiration for my song writing.

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS ;

i want war (BUT I NEED PEACE) - kali uchis

eternal sunshine - jhene aiko

let you go - clara la san

needy - ariana grande

AT THE END OF THE DAY ;

i wanted to include this section as a reminder that everyone goes through shit. things happen. its okay to be affected by it and its okay to be sad. the most important thing is to not dwell on it too long. remember that you are not a victim and remember how amazing you are BECAUSE YOU ARE. you are amazing and no matter what happens, regardless of anything your gonna be okay and your gonna be in a much better place, it starts with putting one foot in front of the other...💬🎀 (love honey)

[freshlove-sturn]

house on the cape.

pt 1 pt2

based on last friday’s video bc im obsessed with it. (events that happened in the vlog may not be in order just so the story flows how i want, also might add or get rid of some things for that same reason ofc). definitely gonna be multiple parts if yall like it so please let me know!!

summary: when the triplets come back home from la, they reunite with their favorite summer tradition, staying in the house on the cape. amidst all of the familiar laughter, and reminiscing on old memories, y/n can’t ignore the feeling stirring in her heart. something that went deeper than friendship. as she grapples with the fact that her feelings for her lifelong best friend, matt, are more than what’s just at the surface, she must learn to navigate and balance the unspoken feelings, and the gut wrenching fear of risking it all.

a/n: sorry guys but i think im scrapping all my old fics. i just have lost interest in them and i dont want to give yall something that i just half assed yk. i just need something new 😖🙏 don’t hate me pls. also i didn’t proof read and i never do so hopefully this all makes sense LMAO

……………………..

“BOYS TRIP!” chris shouts through the house.

the triplets are back in boston from being in la. i’d be lying if i said that i didn’t wish that these visits would last forever. being across the country from my best friends sucked.

“oh yeah , and you’ll be there too. you’re one of the boys.” chris points at me, smiling before loading the car with our bags.

“chris please never say that again.” i cringe, but fail to keep in my laughter.

“i agree. that was disgusting.” nick chimes in.

“just wanted to make sure you know you’re included.” chris throws his hands up in defense.

“thanks.” i smile and shake my head before getting in the car.

we were staying at their house in cape cod, something all of us looked forward to each summer growing up.

we arrive at nate’s house to pick him up. after the group effort of showering him in compliments for his new hair cut, we get back in the car.

sandwiched between nick and nathan, i check the time on my phone. nick grabs my wrist and moves it out of the way to give himself a better view of my lock screen.

“that is such a cute picture.” he says admiringly. it was a picture of matt and i. the picture was taken from behind while matt gave a piggy back ride back to the car because my feet hurt from wearing heels to madison’s concert.

“you took it.” i laugh.

“i know. i really out did myself huh.” he hypes himself up. i smile and roll my eyes.

once we get to the cape house, we unload the car. all of our bags scattered haphazardly throughout our respective rooms. the same rooms each of us have stayed in for years. nate with chris, nick with matt, and me, having been the only girl, with my own room.

“let’s go to the beach!” nate walks out into the kitchen, clapping his hands together.

…

the beach was just within walking distance. matt and i fell behind the rest of the group.

“i’m so glad you’re back.” i tell him.

“me too. i missed you.” he replies.

“i missed you too.” i admit. “a lot.” i look up and meet his eyes. we just stare at each other for a second. we didn’t really need to say anything. it was almost just a mutual understanding that each other were our favorite person.

if only he knew the extent.

the only person i’ve confided in about my feelings for matt was nate. which was precisely why he kept shooting me knowing glances anytime matt and interacted. nate swore that he knew i was in love with matt for years, before i even knew myself.

i can’t exactly pinpoint when i fell in love with my best friend, but i do remember when i realized.

flashback

matt and i sit together in the hammock string between two large oak trees in the backyard of the cape house. the gentle breeze swaying us back and forth softly. the sun was going down just to the right of us. beautiful pink and orange hues paint the sky.

“i could stay right here forever.” matt breaks the silence that had fallen between us.

“me too.” i reply softly.

“oh hey i have something for you” he digs his hand around in his pocket and pulls out a baby pink seashell. he hands it it me.

“i’ve never seen a pink one like that before.” he tells me as i admire the gift.

“me either. i love it. thanks matt.” i smile sweetly at him.

“of course.” he returns the smile.

i feel the heartbeat in my chest racing and my cheeks heating up. the feeling i had been carrying around with me for quite some time became abundantly clear.

i was in love with my best friend.

when i got home that night, i tied a string around the shell, and wore it as a necklace. and i haven’t taken it off since.

end of flashback

that was back when we were 16. 4 whole years i’ve gone hiding my biggest secret from the one person i told everything to.

our gaze was interrupted by chris. “jesus, yall are some slow pokes” he hollers back at us.

we both laugh and pick up out pace.

soon we arrive at the beach. i’ve always loved the beach. it truly is my happy place.

especially when i’m with matt.

nick snaps pictures here and there.

“oh my gosh matt look! this is just like your tattoo!” i hold out a shell to him.

“oh shit you’re right.” he holds out his arm, revealing his tattoo.

“that’s sick.” chris admires the similarity while nick takes a picture.

…

later that night, we all sit in the living room debating on what movie to watch.

“chris im not watching planet of the apes again. we’ve watched it like 9 times already.” nick argues, shutting down chris’s pleads.

“how about grown ups?” matt suggests.

“yes i love that movie.” nate agrees.

“that’s fine with me.” nick shrugs and starts typing it in.

“is that good with you?” matt leans down to where i was sitting in front of him, his voice soft and genuine.

“yeah that’s good with me.” i tell him.

he smiles and pats the spot on the couch next to him, gesturing me to come sit up there with him. i stand up from my spot on the floor and sit down next to him. he drapes a blanket over the both of us.

about an hour or so into the movie, my eyes get heavy. i lean my head on matt’s shoulder, to which he responds with wrapping his arm around me. this was nothing out of the ordinary. there’s pictures going back to when we were in preschool of the two of us practically fused together passed out on the living room floor.

suddenly, a gentle shake of my shoulders woke me up from a sleep i hadn’t even known i fell into. my eyes flutter, slowly regaining focus. when they do, i’m met with matt’s gentle blue eyes.

“hey, you wanna go lay down in your bed? i don’t want your neck to be sore.” he asks, genuinely concerned for my comfort.

i look around, everyone else appeared to have gone into their rooms.

“yeah i probably should.” i say through a yawn.

matt grabs my hand and helps me stand up from the couch. we walk down the hallway. my room came before his and nicks.

“goodnight matt.” i say, slowly turning the doorknob.

“goodnight y/n. see ya in the morning.”

i toss and turn in bed, unable to fall asleep. i stand up from bed, and leave my room. slowly making my way to the kitchen to get a drink, careful to not wake anyone up.

i open the fridge and grab a water. before i can take a sip, i hear a familiar voice behind me.

“can’t sleep?” the sudden breach of silence made me jump a little. i turn around and see matt. he was leaned up against the door frame. his sweatpants falling dangerously low on his figure, his arm under his shirt itching his shoulder, exposing his midriff.

“nope. you?” i set my water down on the counter.

“hm mm” he replies.

we stand in silence for a few moments before matt breaks the silence again.

“wanna go to the beach?”

….

a/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF YALL LIKE THIS. SUGGESTIONS ALWAYS WELCOME AND MY INBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN 🙏 i’m using my old taglist, so lmk if you want taken off or added to it!

taglist: @honestlybabymiracle @pepsiimaxx @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattestrella @luvmxtt @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[greenunoreversecard]

Don't hide your pain

-> Angel dust x reader

A/N: I made this of my own violation. I needed to therapize myself

Reader POV, ftm male, who's ✨️traumatized✨️

It always starts like this.

Things go well for a while. Things go great, even.

And then it gets bad. And it stays bad, and i ruin every close relationship and im alone.

And then it repeats.

I just wish I could be better. I guess that's why I'm at the hotel.

Things have been good for a while, so good, infact I though the cycle could be over.

Angel brought so much light to my life. He made me feel so happy, and wanted and needed.

And I was so much better. But it seems like the happier I was the worse i fall.

I sigh, rolling over in my bed, grabbing my phone. Fuck it's late in the day. Charlie will be upset, but i cant seem to care. I just- I don't wanna leave my bed.

I look away from my lockscreen, a blurry picture of angel in my Hoodie chasing after nuggets, who has his phone in his mouth, trying to run away with it. It caught angel off guard, and i was laughing so hard i couldnt get a steady photo.

Its one of my favorite memories. I feel a small smile tug at my lips, but my body and my face feel like led that I can barely move.

Theres a knock at my door.

"Hey, baby. Are you ok? Haven't seen you in a day, and I wanted to make sure ya alright.." I hear his quiet voice as the door squeaking lightly as Angle peeks in, silhouette gently illuminated from the light in the hallway.

I grumble in reply and roll over. He sighs, and for a moment I think he leaves but i feel him sit on my bed, next to me. I can feel his warmth. Despite having the features of a cold-blooded spider, he's always run rather hot.

He rests his hand on my back.

"Baby, I can't help you if you dont talk ta me"

Irritation rises in me.

"Don't. I dont need you. I dont need your fucking pity. Just fuck off, please." I say, voice rough and shoulders tense.

His determination doesn't deter, though.

"I don't pity you, love. I just wanna help."

I know my irritation is irrational, logically. But I can't help being angry. Angry I am this way, angry I'm so helpless. And I'm ahry he has to see me like this, considering he has it so much worse. He deserves better than this. Better than me. But I can't seem to stop the slow of my defensive anger, vomiting out words I'm uncertain seraid him I know they do me coming out my mouth.

"Don't pretend, angie."

"I'm serious, though. I want to help."

"Don't play with me. I don't need you, and I don't need your pity."

"Why are you doing this?"

This freezes me. I tense. I don't know why I do this. I don't know why I'm hurting him. I don't know why I'm hurting myself by hurting the only person thats treated me like a fucking sentient being..

I realise, at this point, he's as rigid as a brick, and I look over at him. He tears in the corners of his eyes, eyes slighrly red from the effort it takes to stop his tears. His hair is a mess, and he's shaking, God's he's shaking.

"I- please, sugar. I just wanna help you but- but I can't if you push us away. I you push me away. I- I don't wanna lose you. I can't fucking lose you. And I can feel you sliping and its- it's scary. Please, if not for you then for me."

At this, a sob wracks its way through my body, every viceral emotion I've held back hitting me like a dam destroyed. Apologies spewing through my lips like it's a lifeline. And in a way, it is. Because, I know hes right. And I know if I continue on the way I do, I'll be destroyed at my own hands. And I'll lose him, I'll lose my lifeline.

...

..

.

I don't know how long I cry for. It's all kind of blurry, really. I know i tell him everything ive hid from him about my life through choked sobs, and at some point he's holding me to his chest, gently stroking my hair, touch gentle but deep, afraid to let me go as if I'll disappear, or break like glass.

The good never used to last for long, but maybe this time I can make it last forever.

So long as I have him.

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

End note: vv rushed lmfao. Anywhore, hopes this gives a small gauge as to my writing style. I can also try my hand at different possibilities.

Hope ye likey likey

[rookiesbookies]

please please please write a piece where sex doll soap is dominant please please please

also how does this work? is he sentient? does he have emotions? is he ai?

if you dont want to write a pt II id also take a sex doll price

You got Sex Doll Price! Bingo!

So I saw your question and I outlined how it works more in this post (if you havent seen it) and Im getting ready to write the Konig piece, however I want to make it really special so im going to hype it up a bit more and here’s a Price one because I felt like writing him!

I totally forgot this was in my drafts btw

Price’s story of getting bought goes much like all the other’s. His lady is lonely one night, flips through some infomercials because there’s nothing good on and she figured they’d be entertaining she guessed? It was a better idea than Steinfeld reruns for the fifteenth time, and nothing streaming was updated or good. It was a rare mood.

It came on for the dolls and she fell in love with the way he moved, smiled, his eyes. It was like the tv knew how much she loved the soft eyes of an older man.

She slid off her couch and onto the floor before she punched in the number on the phone to call, saying she wanted Price.

It took time before he was there. She felt different, he has been marketed as a companion robot on the tv. One that could walk, talk, cook, clean. It would be nice having someone to take care of the house while she was at work.

When the mystery box was on her doorstep with the gibberish, she assumed what it was based on the size.

It took a long time of struggling to get it through the door. She tore into it almost immediately. She didnt even get him out of the box before she planted a soft kiss to his lips, just as the commercial said. His eyes fluttered open and she was met with the same soft eyes she first saw.

He was swift. Reconnecting his lips to her and moving out of his box without much effort. She slid back to make room for his large form, when she hit the wall he crawled over her.

“I was told you were a companion,” she said softly eyes, trained on his lips then flicking up to his eyes.

“Companions do lots of different things. There are plenty of different types of companions, love.” His rough hands came up to her face, thumb grazing over her lower lip. “It just so happens to be my directive to be a certain kind of companion.”

Her body felt like it was on air the whole time, like her nerves were cushioned by personal clouds as he worked.

He was swift, putting her on her hands and knees before working off her pants and underwear. His mouth connected with her lower lips and began work. He was delicate but hungry.

Once he got her what he deemed wet enough he used his knee to move her thighs apart, pulling his pants down.

“Breath, love.” He whispered sweetly into her ear after spitting into his hand, rubbing it over his cock, “remember to breath.”

He let it rest in her for a long time. She fell onto her forearms, debating letting her mouth hang open so drool could fall.

He was rhythmic and juicy. Everything she imagined. She was so high up she almost didn’t register she was about to cum until it happened. He didn’t seem to orgasm, surprisingly, but he didn’t seem to care, maybe he did - well she had no clue. He picked her up and wondered her home until he found the bathroom, drawing her bath before washing her gently and putting her to better not long after drying her.

Worth every penny.

[disneyprincemuke]

where the fun begins, 2 * ls2 (ms47)

it’s friday: logan throws the party he’s claims he’s having just for you to come around, not even knowing if you’ll be attending

pairings: frat!logan x reader, college!mick x reader

notes: um im on my phone in school i dont have a word count and neither did i plan on making this this long… sry guys uwu hope u like it (i’m desperately running out of logan gifs pls help me)

biggest thanks to @angsthology for helping me out with the white man fight and smug logan because i couldnt, for the life of me, figure that scene out so thank yew baby :*

(f1 masterlist)

| one | two | three | four |

friday rolls around, two days since logan had seen you in the bowling alley with another guy. he also spent the last two days organising a party, completely last minute, sending the entire house into a frenzy to set it in stone.

typically, parties are structured and planned at least two weeks ahead of time. but this time is different.

he can't ignore the frustration that clouds his thoughts when he thinks of that night. or you, in general. all he sees is you wrapped around someone else's arms.

he's been watching the door for the past hour, curious if you had taken him up on his invitation. it's been two hours since the start of the party, and logan knows damn well that word has gotten around about their open house party.

it should have been invitational only, as they usually host their parties. but it's way too last minute to make it an exclusive party. so, they made sure word got around.

he knows that you know what time the party starts. because mick's friends have already made their way into the frat house, drowning in alcohol and pressed up against girls on the dance floor. he only wonders if you would ever come by.

logan folds his arms over his chest, smiling smugly as he watches the crowd pour into the dimly lit home. he turns to oscar. "see? i told you i could pull it off."

oscar stops next to him, hands in his pockets. "i got to say – this is the most effort i've seen you put in a girl," oscar teases, glancing at his friend from the corners of his eyes. "you must really like her."

"i just don't like losing," logan scoffs with an eye roll. "especially not to some loser like the guy she's with."

losing? no, he is jealous. but he would rather abolish this entire party as a whole than admit that to anybody.

"schumacher?" oscar laughs, throwing his head back. "he's not even a loser, mate. have you even talked to him?"

"whose side are you on, dude?" logan frowns, throwing his arms in the air. "there is a wrong answer to this question."

oscar rolls his eyes and punches logan. objectively speaking, he is on mick's side; for your sake. but in a friend perspective, he’ll always be on logan’s side. but even he can admit logan’s a bit of a dick sometimes.

"whatever, dude." he smiles to himself, watching liam open the door to let another crowd in. "it's a very well-put-together party. i'm surprised. where did you get the keg on such short notice?"

logan has this shit-eating grin on his face, one that oscar desperately wants to wipe off. but he can only step back and watch the downfall of all his antics. it's funnier that way.

"frederik knows a guy."

oscar raises an eyebrow. "alright, mate." he pats logan on the back. "liam’s hosting the beer pong. let’s go?”

logan shakes his head, staring at the door with his arms folded over his chest. “later.”

“staring at the door won’t increase the chances of her coming,” oscar hums proudly, patting him on the back. he pushes him through the crowd of college students and massages his shoulder as he tries to find where liam had set up the table. "and anyway, they're coming after pre-drinks."

logan stops in his tracks. "how do you know that?"

oscar steps back with a smirk. "lily told me. did i not update you on that?" he sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "must have slipped my mind."

he knew, since the night logan plotted this party, that you and your friends would be pre-drinking before coming here. another reason you're apparently dragging your feet here is for lily – not wanting her to be alone in a frat house.

as honest of a guy oscar tries to keep himself, it doesn't remove suspicion from him trying to take advantage of her. understandable and respectable. so he told you to take your time.

"dude!" logan scowls, shoving oscar back. "that's vital information you should have told me ages ago! i've watched the door like a fucking hawk all night waiting to see if she's coming."

"it's funnier this way," oscar giggles. "also, it's because i'm dating lily."

"you're what? since when? why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"way before you started seeing her. but you're focused on the wrong thing, mate."

"i doubt that, actually."

"oi, beer pong bitches!" liam screams, his hands cupped over his mouth as he beckons for the pair to approach him. he's knelt on a bar stool to catch their attention in the crowd. "logan is up first for the public versus the house."

logan chuckles, slowly making his way towards the beer pong table once more. "are you sure? i'm undefeated, mate," he turns to his friends, "you'll never get your turn if i'm up first."

frederik grins, gesturing towards the rows of red cups filled with sizzling cheap beer. "we wanna see how long you last."

oscar giggles, patting his back. "revenge for making us scramble to put together this party at such short notice."

"and anyway," liam laughs breathily, stumbling into logan's body. he takes a sip from the red cup in his hand. "we have another table for the casual games by the pool."

"and i don't get to play at that table? how rude," logan scoffs, stepping towards the table. he spreads his arms out as he looks around the crowd. "any takers?"

there are a couple who try taking logan down in his own game of beer pong. but as someone who's always in attendance at every party on campus, he's simply mastered the game – how to distract his opponents when he's losing, how to throw them off the game, and how to hit the ball into the cups.

he's figured it all out.

the games pass by very quick, and logan only drinks a couple of cups out of the 6 opponents that are brave enough to step up to the challenge.

"seriously?" logan giggles, slightly intoxicated from the beer. he watches the previous guy walking away, greeted by his group of friends and consolations for a 'nice try'. but logan knows it wasn't a good try. he didn't have a fighting chance at beating him. "where's the real challenge?"

"i could probably beat you."

he hears a chorus of 'oh's from his own friends crowded behind him, lifting his head to meet a pair of blue ones. he sees you first, hands on someone else's body and an arm wrapped around your shoulders. his eyes land on mick, smugly grinning at him with a hand inside the pocket of his jacket nonchalantly.

"yo, isn't that-"

"liam, read the room."

logan doesn't notice lily threading the edge of the makeshift circle over to his side, greeting oscar with a smile. he tilts his head at mick. "you think you can beat me? i'm undefeated, bro."

he sees you whispering something at mick, swatting at him with a small smile. logan knows that look: the flushed cheeks, swollen lips and slightly smudged mascara under your eyes. you'd drunk a little too much during your pre-drinks.

and so do you with logan: the heaving, permanent sly lazy grin and slumped shoulders. you even notice the way he's already slurring at his words.

"mick, should you really be entertaining this?"

mick smiles down at you, squeezing you with a soft shake. "just a bit of fun. we're at a party after all. i'll keep it friendly."

"i know you will. but will he?"

"trust me?"

you tilt your head and lift an eyebrow. you sigh with a small smile, "fine."

"asking for permission?" logan scoffs. "what are you, scared?"

mick scrunches his nose, lifting his hands from you. "no, mate. reassuring her," he smiles. he slowly tears his jacket off of his arms.

logan clenches his jaw at the sheer audacity when mick turns around and hands you his jacket. he feels a wave of anger, something he's never felt before, rising in his chest when mick leans down and presses a quick kiss to your red cheeks.

this might just be jealousy. but it's an emotion so foreign to logan that he doesn't even notice it. in his head, he's just mad that he's lost you to this guy.

someone rumoured to have gotten into the school through his dad’s connections.

"you sure you wanna embarrass yourself in front of her?" logan asks sweetly, biting down on his bottom lip. "one more chance to back out, schumacher."

mick shrugs and steps towards logan. "all in, mate."

"just making sure you don't embarrass your little girlfriend," logan grins, craning his neck slightly and squints his eyes down at you. "you don't want everyone to see him lose to me, do you? you should advise him otherwise."

you don't even get a chance to react before mick steps into logan's line of vision to you. "don't bring her into this."

logan scoffs, eyeing mick up and down. he furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. "huh?"

"let's keep this friendly?" mick smiles. he extends his hand towards logan.

logan's gaze trails to the hand held out in front of him. he chuckles dryly before turning away, earning another chorus of gasps and shocked whispers around him, walking over to his side of the table. "you know how to play beer pong, don't you?"

mick purses his lips together, retracting his arm before padding over to his spot. "yeah."

liam looks between them, drunkenly filling up the new set of cups with beer. the kiwi can only hope that they keep talking so that he doesn't have to rush with the cups.

"i can teach you if you'd like."

"no, i think i can handle myself."

"alrighty," liam stands, clasping his hands together. "enough yapping. play the stupid game, you guys. it's just beer pong."

logan remembers a time when you used to be in this crowd. cheering for him instead of some random guy you met in one of your classes. you should be on the other side of the crowd next to oscar and arthur.

logan doesn’t do great with losing. if that hasn’t been implied, he doesn’t know any other way to show it.

mick crosses his arms over his torso. “make a shot, reigning champ.”

“i can be generous,” logan scrunches his nose, pressing his lips together. “guests first.”

the boy across the table shrugs. the game doesn’t go by as fast as the previous ones that logan plays. mick was actually true to his word, knowing how to play the game.

logan’s drank more cups than he’s ever in the entirety of the evening. he has to take a couple of deep breaths, staring down at the table when mick hits the ball into the last cup on his side.

he lost. he… lost? how is that possible?

“good game,” mick smiles with a polite nod across the table.

logan scans the table, taking his last cup into his hand. he hadn’t even stood a chance against mick. he still had more than half his set on the table.

mick swiftly turns around, ready to approach you when logan speaks. “one more?”

“mate-“

oscar taps liam on the shoulder, his one arm around lily’s shoulders, and grins. “no, let him do what he wants,” he glances at lily, who is smiling back at him, “i wanna see how this goes.”

“he’s gonna get himself into a fight, oscar,” liam mutters, pointing at logan. “you know him.”

“let him,” oscar shrugs. “he’s an adult — he knows what he’s getting into.”

“one more?” mick asks, halfway towards you. “are you sure?”

“yeah. best of three?”

“logan,” frederik calls out, pressing his lips into a thin line and shaking his head. “mate. he beat you fair and square.”

“no, it’s alright,” mick smiles. “no hard feelings.”

“very hard feelings,” logan mutters to himself, reaching to the side to open a beer can to replenish everything himself. “you stole my girlfriend.”

liam quickly takes over logan, swatting his hands away as he fills one cup sloppily with half of the liquid trickling down the side.

the next game goes by even quicker than before, the entire duration flashing right in front of logan’s eyes. he’s lost again. at least, it was closer this time. it was tied down to one last cup. mick simply played his shot better.

in normal circumstances, maybe logan would have just taken the loss as one would. but this is mick we’re talking about. logan will be anything but diplomatic about it.

“you had me nervous for a moment there!” you giggle. you move your arm out to avoid spilling the cocktail that frederik very graciously mixed for you during the game. “i thought you were going to have to play the third round.”

mick laughs breathily, blinking rapidly with a hand on his chest. “me too. i’m filled with alcohol,” he laughs, sweeping you into his arms. he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, lifting you slightly from the ground. “let’s go whenever you want to?”

“aw, mate,” frederik sighs, heading over to mick. “house rules: the winner stays until defeated.”

“no way,” you whine, jokingly tearing frederik’s hands from mick. “i wanna head to the bar and get another drink with him!”

“fuck this,” logan mutters, throwing the racket down on the table. he snatches the last cup on the table and glances over at you excitedly bouncing as mick swept you up into his arms.

he rolls his eyes, whirling around and heading towards the backyard of the house.

mick hums as you engage in a conversation with frederik, his hand still on your waist. “um, hold on,” he whispers, tapping you gently. “i’ll go check on him. he looks mad.”

you tug on his shirt. “no, he’ll be okay. he’s just a sore loser, mick.”

he laughs, shaking his head as he detaches himself from your grasp. “i just wanna ask him if he’s okay. i’ll meet you guys at the bar.”

you hum hesitantly, letting go of his hands finger by finger. frederik nudges you in the direction of the bar where oscar and lily are already walking towards.

mick steps out into the backyard, hopeful to find the blonde that turned his back on them. while he didn’t frequent petty fights, logan’s reactions are just very entertaining to him. all because he had failed to appreciate your presence when he was blessed with it and mick stepped up to take you out on a date.

and when he was hearing whispers about logan remaining undefeated at the beer pong table, he took up on the chances. perhaps the alcohol made him feel slightly competitive.

he’s ashamed to admit that he let his ego get the best of him and that’s why he stepped up to logan’s challenge.

“mate,” mick announces his presence, slowly approaching logan sitting on one of the sun beds by the pool. “i hope you didn’t take the game to heart.”

“fuck off,” logan mutters, dropping his head low. he picks at the grass under the bed and clenches his jaw. “what are you doing here anyway? shouldn’t you be celebrating with your girlfriend?”

“she’s not my girlfriend.” logan looks up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “yet.”

“seriously, what’s your deal? have you just come here to parade in my face that you got the girl or something?” logan pushes himself up to his feet. “i get it, man.”

mick sighs. “no. i was checking on you. you look like you had too much to drink there.”

“i don’t need you babysitting me,” logan shakes his head and folds his arms over his chest. “i’m a grown adult.”

“do you need some water? i don’t imagine you feel so good after chugging that much beer,” mick mutters under his breath. “you should really sit down.”

“don’t act like you care.”

“logan,” mick sighs, closing his eyes momentarily to let his frustration pass. “iced or room temp water?”

logan rolls his eyes. “stop acting all saint-like, man. i know you wanna hit me.”

“mate, i do not want to hit you.”

“for sure, you do. you just don’t know it yet.” logan shoves his hands into his pockets. he takes a step forward. “we all know you want to hit me. just do it.”

mick takes note of the step he takes, but stays planted into the ground. “i don’t want to fight you.”

“i know you do. the urge just hasn’t clawed at you yet,” logan grins sloppily. another step forward. “or are you holding back? because she doesn’t like messy guys and you’re scared you’ll lose her it you throw a punch?”

“i’m not holding back. fighting is a waste of time — i don’t like it.”

“she’s very conservative, dude, but she’s very forgiving,” logan nods, looking into the glass doors that lead into the house. he tries to spot you in the crowd but when he doesn’t, he returns his attention to mick. “you’re allowed a couple mistakes.”

“i’m not taking advantage of her like that.”

“i’m not asking you to take advantage of her kindness. i’m telling you that if you need to throw a punch or two, she will definitely forgive you. no need to be scared.”

mick laughs slightly, throwing his hands into the air to surrender. “i’m really not looking to fight with you. that’s beyond me, mate.”

“she appreciates when you let loose a little bit,” logan nods to himself. “why do you think we were going out all those months together? it’s not just cause i won her over with my charm, ya know. she’s got a bit of a wild side, mate.”

mick tilts his head, squinting slightly. he appreciates the extent logan is going to just to rile him up.

“if you don’t know that, then maybe she’s just not comfortable with you.” one more step forward. “i know so well a side of her even you’ve never seen before.”

“do you?”

“yeah,” logan answers in a low tone. he drops his head, one corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. “she’s got that perfect picture smile from a magazine, but you should have seen her when we went to this one party on campus.”

“ah. so?”

“do you know that she gets touchy when she consumes tequila?” logan perks up innocently. “very brave — she’s taken body shots before, you know. off of me?”

“okay? that was a frat party; of course you guys would host that kind of activity. i was there when that happened.”

logan ignores the jabs at the fraternity.

“kissed her yet? in case you haven’t, she tastes like those strawberry mints she always keep a tin of inside her pocket. they’re very minty, but it’s lovely.”

mick grins, pursing his together. “yeah, i know.”

“have you seen her in that one baby doll dress that she likes wearing a lot? what about her yellow sundress that barely covers her thighs?” logan pouts his bottom lip out. “it’s a scene when the wind comes by.”

“mate, you’re kind of crossing a line now,” the german chuckles. “don’t talk about her like that. i know you like her too.”

logan takes another step forward, eager to find that one trigger in mick. “do you know the mole she’s got on her hip? on the left side of her lower back. it’s really really visible when you’re fuc–“

“aw, fuck’s sake!”

logan almost bursts into laughter when he realises what had happened. his back meets the land of grass in the backyard, a pain shooting through his face. when he looks up, a crowd has formed around them during their conversation and liam is already knelt by his side.

lifting his head, he sees mick covering his face with both hands. he runs his hands through his hair as he looks down at logan with wide eyes, hands cupping his warm cheeks. “oh, my god. oh my god.”

oscar and lily pour out of the glass doors with a crowd following them out, the australian raising his eyebrows at his best friend lying back on the ground with a bloody nose.

“logan?” oscar asks, already knowing that he’s probably done or said something to trigger the normally calm headed man in front of him. “what did you do?”

logan scoffs, letting liam help him to sit on the sun bed. “i have the bloody nose and you’re asking me what i did? why don’t you ask him? he hit me.” logan points at mick as he takes the tissues that liam is putting into his hands.

oscar stares at logan. “really? you’re going with that?”

“yeah,” logan grins, glancing at mick. he presses the tissues to his nose, hissing when pain shoots through his face again at the contact. “god, dude. you don’t look like it but you can throw a punch.”

mick nurses his knuckle, taking a couple of steps back. “i know, mate. i’m not stupid.”

you stumble out of the glass doors, heaving as frederik keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. you were in one of the bathrooms upstairs — where it’s exceptionally cleaner — when mick threw the punch (frederik was holding your purse waiting for you outside the door).

when you made your way back down, the crowd inside the house halved. frederik would tap ollie, taking body shots off of someone, asking where everyone had gone.

and ollie, lying back on the table as he put salt on his stomach, pointed to the backyard and muttered something about a possible fight. “logan, maybe,” he muttered before promptly shooing you away.

you look at mick first, who has his shoulders slumped with oscar and lily by his side and is staring at you with guilt all over his face. then you look at logan, being nursed by liam and someone else, with a tissue and an ice pack against his face.

“yeah?” logan perks up with a scoff at you. “can’t pick who to nurse?”

@cashtons-wife @localwhoore @vroomvroomcircuit @foreveralbon @what-is-happening-helpp

[gamblersdoll]

cw: power play, boss on employee, blowjob, p in v. please dont say “this is not..” yes its fiction.

this had to be the busiest season of it, of all the year.

the business always boomed around june or july, production sales and having more accidents in the summer. see, when it got hot in the south, no one knew how to drive. the heat must be frying their brains.

but thats where your job came in, you making commissions exactly how you always did.

and you were the most important and wanted agent in your industry, town, and on the market. your skills were unmatched, making more commission because you were a smooth talker.

do you think that passed by your boss, Nanami? you were crazy to think that. he always saw how well you did.

“come to my office, asap.” the message said on your work phone. your bosses’ voice never sounds completely comforting or warm, sometimes stoic. and dare it be past five o’clock, because now he’s just a grump.

you knocked on his door, received a ‘come in.’ you open the door, peaking in through the small crack.

“i did say come in, close the door behind you, please.” he said, nodding in response when you do exactly that.

such a good listener.

“what did you need, sir?” you ask, fixing yourself ad you sat down with minimal effort. he turns back to you, handing a stack of papers. “whats this?”

“im offering a promotion.” he says, a small smile on his face at your excited reaction. “for what could be a small price to pay, just maybe.”

“anything, this is great!” you cheer, earning a small chuckle from him.

and you would do anything for this promotion. you were on your knees, hands on his clothed thick thighs. your scalp burned, nanami pulling your hair. he didn’t pull too hard, knowing you had an attachment to your hair.

your throat expanded when his cock plunged into the warm tunnel, eyes tearing up as you look up to him. your eyeliner became ruined, runny at that.

his groans vibrated around the room, feeling more comfortable since all the employees had basically clocked out and left around their usual end of day meetings. his hips instinctively thrusted into your throat, curling your toes so you didnt gag too much on him.

“get up.” he hushed, pulling you up and bending you over the desk. he roughly pulled your tight mini skirt. he should reprimand you, you were out of dress code. your skirt was too tight and your ass could fall out any minute.

oh well, he had his cock sunk deepen into you to even give a flying fuck about some dress code that was put in place in the fucking early two thousands.

“do you like this, lovely?” he said in your ear, hovering above you. he nodded, “yeah? you do, dont you?” when you mumbled your positive answer. he undid his tie, replacing his neck for your wrists. he tied it enough to not cut off circulation, yet to tug you back whenever he so pleased.

“how bad do you need this promotion, lovely?” he asked in your ear, forcing you to stand against him while he thrusted his cock inside your slippery walls.

“need it so bad..” you choke out, feeling nanami’s hand squeeze only a tad bit more.

“say ‘thank you, sir.’ for the promotion.” he egged on, hands going to your hips as he groaned louder, feeling himself get closer to that brink. he felt his balls tighten, rolling his eyes as his veins popped out of his neck.

“thank you sir!” you cry out, he was hitting that spot that made your legs shake and your thick thighs quiver. “take me, use me please! anything!” you moan, feeling him slam your body back down onto his desk as your cheek pressed up against it.

he breathes heavily, moaning louder as he pumps his cock into you for the last few times. he made a mental note that he had remembered to put the magnum on before he even decided to take your body for his own.

“dont move, i have some wipes that i can clean you with.” he assures, rummaging through his desks and finally wiping the sweat, spit, drool, and your own milky essence coming out of your folds.

“thank you, sir..” you mumble, looking over your shoulder and he hushes you softly.

“you deserve this, youre a hard worker. your efforts never go unnoticed.” he praises in his own way.

[kumezyzo]

angst Sapnap fic where singer!reader publishes an album after their breakup and Sapnap is listening to it knowing the songs are about him?

its sad, really. you two didn't break up because of a horrible fight that went too far or an unfair infidelity. you broke up because of your schedules. you would go months without seeing each other, each one of you respectively getting sucked up into your work. texts and calls slowly growing smaller and shorter with too much time passing between each one. so you two decided it would be easier to break up.

there was no bargaining or begging the other stay. no promises to make more of an effort to stay in contact. and dont take it the wrong way. You two didn't do this because that spark was gone, but because that spark, that love, was burning too strong for either of you to hold each other back.

maybe it's true that neither of you dated for a while after. maybe you each cried for hours and mourned the loss of what could have been. but it's known that when someone has experienced heartbreak in a way that could never be described, they turn to what they're best at. their escape.

your ex-boyfriend worked on himself, physically that is, and threw himself into longee recording sessions. people argued it was the best era of his career in those months after you two split.

and you poured your soul into writing your music. creating melodies where people could feel your sorrow. when you tried to write about something else, it kept coming back to him. the image of his green eyes and the sound of his beautiful laugh oozing through music. and in the deepest part of your files, you ignored the song you were writing for him before you split.

the album you put out six months after the breakup was your best selling. people's theories of it being about him turned out to be true, and it gave everyone the insight that it was simply the case of the right person at the wrong time. a peak into your love.

but it wasn't that simple. in fact, it was too complex for anyone to truly understand and feel your feelings through the speakers of their phones or earbuds. but he understood it.

he listened to it on stream to "show his support" but grew morbidly silent after hearing the first two tracks. he was tempted to turn off the stream, crawl into bed, and listen to your voice as if you were singing directly to him and only him.

and in a way, you were. the laughing on the last track on the album was meant for him. who else would know it was from the one night you two went on a late night ice cream run and thought to 'vlog it'. who else would know that the title of the song was one that he had come up with when you asked him the simple question, "what would you want me title a song if i made one about you?"

"nickles," he responded, "because my name is Nick."

who else would know that the title of the album was Spare Change, not because what you felt for him was like the unwanted almost valueless money at the bottom of your bag, but because you had so much leftover love for him. you had so much love for him that you would find it in random places, and you couldn't get rid of it.

sorry if this isn't what you asked for, im just in a weirdly poetic mood 😭😭 i hope you guys enjoyed, tho! this was really fun to write. and i guess im kinda back? idk dont get your hopes up 😅 -Nony

[poraphia]

Halloooo ^^ ..

I read a lot of ur stories and now Im in love with fictions :3 (might need therapy cuz of it but nvm that)

U an amazing writer <3

(Im pretty new to Tumblr so extremely sorry if this ends up where it shouldnt be or smth like that lol)

But anywaaay , Can I pls request a Wilbur Soot angst fic :D ?

Im going thru THAT phase rn so anything would be awsome really ..

Maybe a fight (unintentionally) breaks out between Wilby and reader and Wilby accidentally raises his voice and reader gets scared ? I know its a cheesy story and people might'a written before but I barely find Wilbur angst fics anymore :(((

Anyway , Thank u so much .. U dont have to write any of this if ur uncomfortable .. Hope ur doing okay :> .. Take care n' bye :D

"You’re Being Too Loud."

➵ PAIRING! cc!stressed!wilbur x stressed!reader

➵ CREATING! 10.12.23 | 1444 words

➵ CONTAINING! angst to comfort, wilbur is ignoring reader, reader lowkey has attachment issues, reader sensitive to loud noises, wilbs is overworked

➵ SAYING! hiii @toastyliltoasts41 welcome to tumblr! sorry for the late late response but i hope you enjoy :) personally going thru this myself especially w so much work ive been doing recently and also im noise sensitive (literally walk around with noise canceling headphones all the time). thank u for all the nice words!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I slipped off my shoes and placed them near the doorstep. My socks glided against the furnished planks as I slid to our shared office. I dragged my backpack behind me, feeling the weight of my laptop, notebooks, and textbooks. Once I made it to the room, I placed my bag on the chair and unpacked all my belongings onto my desk.

Today was too exhausting, and the one thing I dreaded doing right now was to open my laptop and be faced with more work. Instead of taking my laptop with me, I grabbed my phone and dragged myself out of the office and into the bedroom.

After changing into my loungewear, I snuggled myself into silk sheets, shivering a little from the cold fabric wrapping around my body. Ignoring the chill, I held up my phone with both of my hands and swiped open the messaging app to text my boyfriend. I glanced at the past messages, realizing that Wil hasn’t responded to any of my messages from this afternoon. The last time he texted was this morning when was telling me what time he would come home. Sighing, I typed in another message in hopes that this time he would respond.

“Hey, I’m home now. Too tired to cook food today. Let’s order something when you get home? <3”

I clicked send before clicking off my phone and placing it on the nightstand. My eyes fluttered close, and slowly, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the sound of footsteps clicking against the ground. With my hands I pushed my body up to examine the noise. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a familiar tall figure headed toward the office. A small smile formed on my face as I carefully got out of bed.

My bare freet pressed against the cream colored carpet. I wandered around the hallway before finding the office door slightly ajar. Through the crack I saw Wil hunched over his computer. His sweater’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his fingers hastily clicked against his keyboard. Quietly, I approached him from behind, throwing my arms around his shoulders and hugging him close.

Wil quietly hummed in response. I titled my head, pecking his cheek, but he didn’t react and instead his eyes stayed glue to his screen. My eyebrows slightly furrowed, but nonetheless, I continued hugging him.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I mumbled in a croaky voice.

“Hey,” he replied blankly.

“Did you see my texts earlier today?”

“Uh huh,” He said absently. “I saw the message after I ate though. Sorry.”

I felt my chest tighten a little, hurting at his absence. All I wanted in the moment was a hug and a conversation about each other’s day, but instead, he was absorbed in his work and couldn’t even make the effort to look at me.

“Wil, can we talk?” I asked.

He slightly shook his head. “No, not right now, honey. This video has to be out by tomorrow and one of our editors hasn’t been feeling well so I took up the work.” He explained briefly.

“But you’re already busy working at the studio…” I mumbled.

“I know, but I can finish this up by tonight. Just give me some time, please.” He requested. My heart skipped a little, feeling like a dog that had been put aside for a brand new puppy.

“Wil, you haven’t talked to me all day. Could we at least just have dinner together?” I nearly pleaded.

“I already said I just ate, (y/n).” Wil said rather sternly. “Please can I just finish my work?”

“But I want to spend time with you.” I said, speaking up a little bit. I unwrapped my hands away from him and stepped back a little. He turned his chair a little to face me with one of his hands still on the keyboard. He looked up at me, a stressed but furrowed expression on his face. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging my own chest.

“I want to spend time with you but you’re basically prioritizing this work over me.” I said again. “I understand that sometimes you have too much work. I understand that. But we haven’t been spending time with each other for the past few days and it’s driving me crazy. I just want to relax with you, Wil.” I bit the insides of my cheek. Wil, in turn, sighed and rubbed his nosebridge.

“I’m not prioritizing work over you, (y/n), I’ve just been busy lately and this argument is just stressing me out even more.” His words were spat out like venom.

“Which is why I’m asking that we just spend time together! This isn’t just for me, but it’s for you too.” I threw my hands up, frustrated. “Wilbur, we can relax together! You’re acting like this isn’t stressing me out either!”

Wil got up from his seat now. His tall figure nearly towered over me, making me slightly cower. “I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING RELAX RIGHT NOW, (Y/N)! I HAVE SHIT TO DO!”

I stepped back, nearly stumbling. Without realizing, tears were running down my burning hot cheeks. The air went cold and I felt this hallowing emptiness surrounding me. A ringing was bouncing in my eardrums and goosebumps ran through my arms and legs. He looked down at me, eyes wide as if he just realized what words escaped his lips. Before he could say a word, I walked out of the office and back into bed, slamming the door behind me.

I jumped into the mattress and buried my face deep under the sheets. I quietly sobbed into the fabric, not caring for the tears darkening the silk. It didn’t take but a couple minutes later to hear the creaking of the door and soft footsteps approaching the bed. I lied still under the covers as I felt the mattress dip from a newfound weight.

Wil sat there for a while. His knee shook a little, making a tiny thumping noise against the floor. I was turned away from him with his lower back lightly pressing against the heel of my foot.

“(y/n)..?” He softly called out for me. “Are you awake..?”

I shifted a little, moving my foot away from him to let him know I was listening. He sighed with his leg coming to a stop.

“(y/n), I’m sorry. I—I’ve just been really stressed, but that gives me no right to start yelling at you. And me being really busy has been taking away the time with you.” He paused a little bit, presumably licking his lips. I still didn’t have the courage to move. Instead I laid still, not daring to move. “I’m really sorry, (y/n).” He apologized again.

A deep sigh huffed from my nostrils before I sat up, letting the sheets cascade off my body. He turned his head to look at me, his feet still planted on the ground. I looked into his eyes, seeing the pained looked deep in those irises.

“Y-You know I don’t like loud noises.” I croaked out, my voice cracking with my words. He slowly nodded, bringing his legs up on the bed to fully face me. “And I really don’t like it when you yell. Please, I really just wanted to spend time together.”

“And we will spend time together.” He grabbed my hands and cradled them in his. “I’ll message Elodie right now if she could finish the work. But right now, it’s going to be me and you together, okay? We can maybe catch up on our show and I’ll order some food for you, okay?” He reassured, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. “Maybe I’ll steal some fries from you every once in a while.”

I giggled a little. “Noooo! Get your own food!” I whined, lightly pushing his shoulder. He chuckled in response before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his torso in response, breathing in his scent.

“I just missed you, Wil, you know that…” I softly whispered. He nodded, running his fingers through my hair.

“I missed you too. I promise I do.” He whispered back. His voice was low and deep but he made sure to maintain his volume. It was soothing, something I could fall asleep to,

and most importantly,

it wasn’t loud.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ hope you enjoyeddd notes of all kind are super duper appreciated! if you wanna be in a taglist or an anon my inbox is always freee :D ALSO SURPRISE!! TWO ONESHOTS IN ONE DAY I AM ON A ROLLLL

[philtstone]

24. Showing up injured at their friend/mentor’s house: for shawn? :)

[emerges from writing this fic bloody and beaten and on the verge of collapse] ill explore karen vicks character in an overly complicated post-episode missing scene fic or die trying! set immediately post "right turn or left for dead". i genuinely dont know if im happy with this but i also cant figure out how to fix it. actually, it would have probably been easier to write if i was willing to rewatch the episodes its based on. which i am not, because i am a sensitive little soul. so i winged it. i think there are like 10 different ideas that crop up and theyre all equally fascinating as character threads but i have no idea if i tied them together in an even remotely coherent way. also, WOULD she say that??? i had to call my brother twice to ask. this is what yall get for sending me actually interesting prompts, huh

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Henry’s voice said on the phone. “I’ll send Shawn over with them on his way out. He's going in your direction, anyway.”

In her short tenure as the junior detective to Henry Spencer’s lieutenant, Karen Vick observed two things:

First, that he was a far more clever strategist than most people gave him credit for. Despite the ongoing wreckage of his impending divorce and a kid who was slipping through his fingers as everyone looked on, Karen didn’t agree with the other junior detectives’ impression of him as a smash-the-door-down old school hard ass with thinning hair and a worst attitude. The man played four dimensional chess right out of a bonafide Star Trek episode. When he really wanted something done, Henry Spencer could bullshit and bluff and battle plan with the pros, and half the time you’d get too caught up in the blustering misdirect to realize his game was intricately thought out three steps in advance.

It was how they caught the Shorttown Killer, and also how they got that idiot Trembley at the mayor’s office to finally replace their coffee maker. Karen went home to her then-boyfriend, now-husband, and, right before bed, pulled out an old school workbook and took notes.

The second thing was that Henry Spencer loved his son. 

Not a lot has changed since then, Karen thinks, staring down the weirdness that she now faces through her open front door.

“… Oh — Mr. Spencer,” Karen says, because it’s rude not to greet your employees when they show up at your home outside of work hours, and are also your old friend-slash-colleague’s kid. “Hello. Thanks for — bringing these over.”

“Dad said it was urgent,” Shawn says.

Urgent isn’t quite how Karen would describe it, but hearing through the grapevine that your department might be facing an audit sometime in the next quarter does light a fire under the proverbial ass. Karen would rather bend a few rules and make sure the last year’s i’s and t’s are dotted and crossed right than leave her detectives vulnerable to the whims of a mayoral stooge. 

In general, Karen prides herself on caring about the people under her command just enough that it inspires genuine friendship and loyalty. The just is important. Care needs tempering – it’s important to pull back, press pause, keep certain lines uncrossed. It’s especially important if you want to be successful as a woman in an authority position where lives are often on the line. 

What she’s saying is that she tries to make it none of her business what her employees get up to in their spare time. She really genuinely does. She’s shut O’Hara down gently midway through the twelfth sweetly-frazzled attempt to overshare about her dating life (or her efforts to befriend her next-door neighbor, or the endearing personality quirks of her last cat – rest in peace, Triscuit, you will be missed –) enough times to be well-versed in the art of I Won’t Ask, You Won’t Tell, But You’ll Probably Know I Care Anyway.

An invaluable rapport to maintain. In any situation, Karen thinks, but especially when you’re a person who regularly hires and works alongside Shawn Spencer.

She’s not sure whether what she’s looking at right now makes her want to second guess or double down on her usual policy. 

“Special delivery,” Shawn adds, like everything is super normal.

Karen narrows her eyes. She glances behind them into the quiet residential street.

“Shawn,” she says.

“Yes, Chief?”

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“Ha,” he says, half rolling his eyes to accompany a weird aborted grin. “No. Even I don’t think riding a motorcycle with a concussion is a good idea. What if someone who wasn’t me got hurt? That’s — that would be no good, then you’d have to arrest me. Wouldn’t that be a huge bummer for the whole team, Chief? Gus would cry. And my dad wouldn’t let me take his truck.”

Karen stares at him. Shawn stares at the ground.

“I got a cab,” he says.

“And you are … taking another cab – home?”

Shawn looks quite suddenly like he’s going to be sick.

“Sure,” he says. 

Shawn looks terrible. Bruised face, bags under his eyes, and a weird frenetic energy twitching in his limbs that doesn’t pair well with his general air of exhaustion. He’s holding his shoulders stiffly and can barely meet her eye. His t-shirt and sweatpants are rumpled, like he slept in them, even though it’s too early in the evening for Henry to have woken him up to send him here, and when he thrusts the promised files out into the air toward her, abrupt and, admittedly, Shawn-like, he only just hides the awkward wince that immediately overtakes his left side.

The last couple days have been a bit of a whirlwind, so Karen can’t say she necessarily blames herself for not looking more closely. 

Even so.

Slowly, Karen reaches forward and divests him of the case files. They slip a little bit, because Karen can’t seem to stop peering shrewdly at Shawn’s face while she does it, and on instinct he reaches forward to stop the stack from toppling. 

It does help, but the autopilot he moves on makes it harder to mask what is to Karen’s eyes a very obvious flinch. 

“Alright,” is all he says. “Well, good to see you. Time to head back to the old hay stack.”

Like a needle in a haystack and time to hit the hay, Karen supplies needlessly in her own head. Aloud, she says, in many ways against her better judgment, 

“Mr. Spencer, are you okay?”

Shawn sways on the spot for a second, one fist clenched, mouth half open. For a strange moment, Karen gets the impression that he’s trying really hard not to say the wrong thing.

“... As rain,” he finally manages, then nods to himself like he achieved some great feat. “Okay. Well –”

“Did something happen to your shoulder?” 

“What? No!” Shawn’s eyes flutter closed and he shakes his head, “I’m – fine, Chief. It’s not – I mean, I’m – normal, fine. Fine in a normal way.”

“That’s not something an individual who’s fine in a normal way would say,” Karen says. 

“Uh, is it not! It is. I would know, because I am that individual. It’s – I was – there’s just mild – pfft … stab wound – or something, who would even …”

Is Shawn broken? is the unhelpful thought that pops into Karen’s head. She’s never heard an attempt to bullshit collapse so quickly into pathetic nothingness before – certainly not from Shawn.

Perhaps even more than his father, the kid’s a pro.

And then the rest of the sentence catches up with her.

“A mild stab wound?”

Oh boy. She watches Shawn’s eyes widen with the panic that proceeds an unquestionable blunder.

“Chief –” 

“In.”

“Chief, I really, really don’t think –”

“Inside my house. Now.”

He’s certainly uncoordinated enough that he doesn’t put up much of a fight. Karen herds him  through the door as firmly as possible and leads them in a beeline past Richard’s office toward the bathroom, ignoring the reedy stream of consciousness that spills out of Shawn’s mouth as they go.

“Oh, hey, woah, it’s been like forever since I was in here. Did you redecorate? I swear that lamp wasn’t there the last time we visited. It could be the tacos I had earlier, but I’m sensing a distinct neo-modern Chinese aesthetic going on here, Chief, which calls to mind the merits of cultural appreciation in suburban home decor – hey, is that your husband’s office? Can I meet him? Is he home? That man is a true enigma to us, Chief, and it’s leading me to believe that he must possess all the facial and personality qualities of the pop superstar Mr. Pitbull Worldwide –”

Richard is home, actually, and Karen needs to alert him to the fact that they have an unexpected house guest, so, ignoring Shawn completely, she calls out,

“Honey? Shawn Spencer’s here for a couple minutes about a work thing! I’ll go up to put Iris to bed in a second!” in the finely-honed There Are Many Layers Of Complicated To This secret married tone that Richard should probably be able to catch through the closed office door. 

“Alright,” floats out her husband’s pleasant voice. “Tell him hi from me.”

Perfect. There’s about a ninety-three percent chance he understood.

They make it to the bathroom, only stumbling slightly. Shawn says,

“-- or The Rock. Does your husband look like Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson? I really think that would make so many things about the Chief Vick family make sense –”

Karen closes the bathroom door with a snap and crosses her arms.

“Sit,” she says, in a voice that even he knows brooks no argument.

Shawn does. He looks – well, beyond uncomfortable, and more than a little bit miserable, and probably closer to completely dissociating than either of them are prepared for. Karen wonders belatedly if he's gotten any sleep at all in the last forty-eight hours.

“I’m assuming you have not been to the hospital.”

He gives her a baleful look, like he really expected better of her. She only just stops herself from rolling her eyes in response. And there’s that huge goose egg on his forehead, too. What, exactly, he got up to in between Carlton’s wedding reception and oh-eight-hundred hours this morning Karen has no idea, but he looks like someone’s run him through the world’s most aggressive industrial tumble dry cycle and spat him mercilessly back out. 

Or maybe over with a truck.

Sending a silent prayer to the universe that Iris never hit puberty and remains a sweet-tempered six-year-old forever, Karen gets to business.

“Well, I had to at least ask. Shawn. Does it need stitches?” He mumbles the answer the first time, and then looks beyond startled when she grabs him under the chin so he’ll look her in the eye. “Listen. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you’re going to tell me the truth. Got it?”

Shawn grimaces so hard at her words it’s almost a flinch. 

“No,” he says finally, clearly enough that she hears him. Karen raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think it needs stitches,” he articulates, but doesn’t meet her eye.

“Hm. Alright. I have gauze and tape in the medicine cabinet. Can I … is it alright if I pull up the sleeve of your t-shirt?”

Released from her hold, he groans and presses his face into one palm. “Chief –”

“I don’t really know what you expected, coming here! It’s not like I’m any less of a hardass than your father.”

“Yeah, but I can bitch back at my dad,” Shawn says, sounding like he’s finally realizing the magnitude of his mistake. Karen smiles grimly.

“Tough. Now pull your shirt up while I get the first aid kit.”

While Shawn proceeds to wrestle awkwardly with his t-shirt in a muted shuffle against the toilet seat, Karen rummages efficiently through the cabinet and eyes him through the bathroom mirror. He seems oddly reluctant to expose himself. In fact, in a stark contrast to his usual insistence on making his presence and contributions as obtrusively obvious as possible, Shawn seems intent on shrinking into the aforementioned Asian-flavored floral wallpaper (which does need an update, unfortunately) with all the equanimity of an anxious chameleon. Karen feels her eyebrows crease. Taking the first aid kit in hand, she brings it over and deposits it into his arms, ignoring his small startle.

“How about you hold that,” Karen says. Shawn does, against his chest, like a pillow. She walks around him and surveys the damage, antiseptic gauze in hand.

He wasn’t lying about the severity, at least. It’s a shallow thing, already mostly congealed, and has only stained his shirt in a small smattering spot of crusty brown blood.

Karen swabs at it with the alcohol using light careful fingers.

“Ow, ow ow ah –”

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s hardly a life-threatening injury.”

“Super insightful, Chief,” Shawn snaps, as genuinely sarcastic as he’s probably ever been with her, “never thought of that myself. Totally the reason why I just had to go to the hospital.”

He doesn’t pull away, but she can feel the tension radiating through his back. She blinks, one eyebrow crawling up her forehead. 

Alright then. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

“I’m assuming your father doesn’t know about this,” she says.

Shawn grunts, noncommittal. Huh. Maybe he does know, then, and has just been disallowed from doing anything about it right now.

She tosses the first used antiseptic wipe into the trash.

Goddamn four dimensional chess.

She supposes she’s never been bad at the game. She may as well work her way backwards through the moves: Guster, the most obvious node in Shawn’s turn-to-in-a-crisis-system, would never voluntarily abandon his friend in a time of need, so Karen assumes that whatever this is has either already included his support or not been made known to Gus at all yet. Henry’s likely exhausted his own usefulness in the situation, and Detective O’Hara is …

Karen has to work very hard for her hands not to pause in a way that gives away her hard-earned mental sleuthing. A bad feeling wholly unrelated to her ill-advised hangover of the day before begins to bloom at the back of her gut.

“You have really small hands, Chief.”

Shawn’s voice is notably more subdued than before.

“Do I?” 

“They’re like … little kangaroo hands. Like the mom kangaroo from Whinnie the Pooh.”

“Didn’t you know?” Karen says, not unkindly. “They’re given out at the hospital when all first-time moms leave with their baby.”

He lets out a tired little laugh, more boyish than he probably means it to be, and in spite of herself Karen feels her heart clench. She isn’t blind. In all her last seven years as the leader of their chaotic little precinct, she has never seen Juliet O’Hara look as ill as she did yesterday morning. The usually sweet-faced young woman had all the pallor of a Victorian ghost, and stood so far away from Shawn in any given room that to an unassuming observer he might have had the plague.

There are only a handful of things, Karen thinks, that could have invited that particular evolution in their dynamic. She rips the surgical tape from its canister a little bit more harshly than is strictly necessary and fights the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

“So,” she says conversationally, laying the tape down in neat, gentle little strips, trying not to pinch the wound too tightly. “Any fun plans for the evening?”

Shawn sniffs. She can see him gripping his hands together over his knee from where she stands above him.

“Um, yeah, uh –” he clears his throat, “you know me, Chief. We’re working our way through a Robert Guillame marathon, which means some good old fashioned Benson, running commentary on the quality of that child acting, naturally.”

“Naturally.” 

“Then Gus and I were gonna hit up the new, the new chili cheese joint up by Hermosa, you know – they’re doing sliders –”

“Chili cheese sliders?” Karen hums, contemplative.

“Buy ‘em by the pound,” Shawn agrees. “Then I was thinking of getting a tattoo, maybe a belly button piercing, I’ve been really – really needing a change – would you let Iris get one, if she asked?”

“A tattoo?” Karen clarifies, cutting off the next piece of tape. The skin around the cut is warm to her touch but Shawn’s arms have goosepimpled. The hair at the back of his head sticks up unstyled, like he slept weirdly and couldn’t be bothered to fix it come morning.

“Of a marmoset. That’s what I’m thinking. With distinctly effeminate vibes.”

“Well, Dick hates marmosets. So I’d probably encourage her toward something else. Perhaps a sea lion.”

“Like Shabby.” The nervous note has bled into his legs again, and his earlier subdued tone has gone back to sounding strained. “Yeah, that’ll – that could be it.”

“All in one night, huh?” Karen says.

“I –” Shawn doesn’t even hiss when she presses down with a cotton gauze to cover the last of the thickened blood. His legs are properly jittering again. “I was – yeah, y-you know me, Chief, total night owl.”

“Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“What about going home?”

Silence. Shawn doesn’t answer for a moment long and pregnant enough that Karen wonders if her question will be ignored entirely. 

Then,

“Chief,” he says finally, in an awful, tiny little voice, “I really, really fucked up.”

Finally, her hands do falter in their ministrations; as emotionally exuberant as Shawn often is, she doesn’t think she’s ever actually heard him close to tears. For a horrible moment she wonders if Shawn Spencer will suddenly start crying atop her toilet seat for reasons neither of them are capable of discussing honestly. Then she wonders if her horror makes her a terrible boss.

Boss – mother – person.

Oh, dear.

She sets down the surgical tape and lays a ginger palm over the newly-bandaged gouge in his shoulder. It’ll probably scar, but not at all badly. She doesn’t like to think about the far more obvious one just below, puckering in a violent yet unassuming divot. Another narrow miss for Henry’s boy. 

At this point there are so many of them to count, Karen has to question the statistical likelihood of the whole thing. Becoming a mathematical anomaly is, Karen can attest with confidence, not exactly the future the Lieutenant Spencer she knew dreamed of for his increasingly unmanageable teenager. 

Doing what he loved, on the other hand – absolutely. Being with a person he loved, even more so. Karen grits her teeth at the irritating web she’s spent the last six years constructing around herself and wonders if this evening right here is some kind of cosmic karma for leaving Iris in the care of nannies for the first three years of her life.

That sounds like the kind of thing those horrible parenting magazines and Karen’s mother-in-law would claim, anyway.

“Shawn,” she says slowly, because she has to at least knock this possibility off the list before risking her career in an attempt to mediate her detectives’ love lives, “did you … you weren’t – unfaithful, were you?”

“What?!” 

Shawn yanks his shoulder away and whirls around to face her with such a look of horrified betrayal on his face that it’s almost comical. 

“No!” 

Thank fucking God, Karen thinks. Aloud, she says,

“Well, I’m sorry, I had to at least ask!”

“No! No! What the hell, Chief!”

“Oh would you be quiet! I’m gathering my evidence here!”

“How could I – I would never – you’d even think that I could –”

“I know! Shawn, for God’s sake –” He’s scrambled to his feet in the cramped bathroom space, glaring, and has probably messed up all that surgical tape in the process. The half open first aid kit and his crumpled shirt press lopsided against his front and her garbage can is now full of oxidizing bits of cotton. Karen officially gives in to the urge to press her palms against her forehead. “I had to ask!” she repeats finally. “You and I both know you’re not gonna give me much else to work with, and you sounded so – so sad!” 

Shawn barks out a hysterical little laugh. Karen almost growls in frustration. 

“I am not going to risk all the very hard-earned rules I have in place without knowing for sure that my instincts aren’t wrong. Is that so hard to appreciate?”

Does it count as sound police work when the framework for your investigation is an unacknowledged lie? Karen doesn’t really know. Probably there’s another math metaphor to be made in there (you screwed your proof from the very beginning, maybe, Richard the professor would definitely have thoughts), or just a straight up joke. How to solve a case that’s cold before it ever has the chance to go live; a cover-up if she ever saw one. Unlikely that O’Hara will peep a word, and things will be a true mess for a few weeks, if she can’t make an educated guess about it. And no one will be explaining anything to Carlton, either …

Right before their goddamn audit, Karen thinks, aggrieved. She wonders if Henry considered this in his calculus. Send Shawn over, have her deal with him. Offer a huge unspoken you’re gonna be walking into a shitstorm tomorrow canary for her perennially chaotic mess of a coal mine. 

She can’t help but feel begrudgingly grateful, but that doesn’t mean she and he won’t be having words about this later.   

“Jesus, Karen,” Shawn mutters, pressing his face back into his free hand. Karen shakes her head and squares her shoulders.

“Well then! Back to the issue. You fucked up.”

“You know what? I can’t talk about this with you.”

“Oh, Mr. Spencer, I assure you I am more than well aware.”

Shawn blinks at her between his fingers, looking genuinely confused for the first time since he showed up at her door. 

Karen does not bother to clear up his confusion; it’s better this way, anyhow.

“Will you be sleeping at Gus’s place or your father’s?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“I’m – I don’t –” Shawn doesn’t meet her eye. The earlier thread of anxiety is back. “I wasn’t …”

So, neither. 

“Put your shirt back on,” she says. “We’re relocating to the living room.”

“Chief –”

“That was an order, Mr. Spencer.”

The living room is as quiet and mundane as it was an hour ago. It’s past Iris’s bedtime – she’ll have to go up, and soon at that. Karen seats her guest, retrieves a mug and a bag of chamomile from the kitchen, and removes the fluffy throw blanket from the basket behind the couch on her way back in. He’s deflated completely by the time the tea and blanket are set in front of him. Small and exhausted. Caught. It’s a horrible way to think about it. But she can’t avoid the hundred yard stare – Karen has seen it one too many times in people only just realizing they’re about to go away for life.

“Shawn,” she says, firm as she can make it. “Drink the tea. You’re dehydrated.”

“I’m … what?”

“Your lips are dry. You shouldn’t be dehydrated with a concussion.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Karen suddenly wonders if he’s going to get up and leave. She has experience with these things – she knows a runner when she sees one.

“I might as well have,” Shawn finally whispers.

She doesn’t catch it the first time. “What?”

“I – I might as well ha – Chief, I …” Deep shuddering breaths. He’s finally shutting down, she realizes. She can’t send him back out like this; Henry would give her the stink eye for a month.

Goddamn Spencers and their goddamn irritating overcomplicated lives.

Karen pushes the tea directly into his hands and tilts her chin so she can meet Shawn’s eye. He’s still lucid enough that she doesn’t think he’ll start hyperventilating, but now that the outrage and adrenaline has worn off, the symptoms of shock are pretty hard to miss. “Shawn,” she says again, and wills for him to understand.

“What if she – what if I never –” He can’t get the full sentence out. He looks at her, eyes wide and terrified.

Life sentence, Karen thinks again. The messy stack of files Shawn brought over sits almost unimportantly on the coffee table between them and a memory comes to her, unbidden, of words penned carefully in the corner of a modified police report that she pulled the minute the door closed on the McCallum case seven years ago. 

Date: May 4th, 1995. Reporting Officer, Spencer, Lt. H. Perpetrator a caucasian male, brown hair, five foot nine, insists on wearing those stupid earrings just to spite me. What the hell do you want me to write here, Chief? Spent two hours in the fucking principal’s office convincing them not to expel him one month off from graduation. All that effort, and I still booked the kid. It’s gonna follow him for life, and it’s gonna be me that did it to him. For life. You think he’ll ever forgive me? He’s the greatest thing in my pathetic little world and he keeps breaking my heart, and I can’t even properly accept that it’s my fault. 

How’s that for a fucking crime.

She needs to go put her daughter to bed. It’s the thought that keeps running through her head, oddly enough, like a strange antidote to the impotent anger and heartbreak and frustration she’s feeling for the people under her care.

With all the notes she took in that little workbook, she still let herself become complicit in the painstaking, convoluted resolution of Henry’s mistakes without accounting for all the variables.  

Richard’s footsteps sound muffled in the next room; he’s made his way upstairs in Karen’s absence. She needs to go. She wants to hear the soft and sleepy love you Mama that with her unpredictable hours and regular long nights isn’t nearly routine enough.

“Shawn,” she says evenly. “Do you love her?”

It’s hard to reconcile the smarmy kid who tried to barter with her for twelve hundred a day with the devastated young man sitting on the couch in front of her.

“Chief …” he starts, barely above a whisper.

“Good. Then she’ll see that. Detective O’Hara is a smart and observant woman. What she chooses to do next is her decision, but … you might be – well, comforted by the fact that she’ll know that – truth.”

Shawn stares at her. The tea steams in front of him, cooling in increments. She takes a deep breath and gets to her feet, patting his uninjured shoulder brusquely. 

“I have to go check on Iris. When I come back down, I can drive you to the Psych office.”

Iris is fast asleep when she gets there. A library book lays open face down over her stomach, and her soft brown hair fans out against the pillow, silhouetted by the soft glow of the unicorn nightlight in the wall above her. Karen turns off the bedside lamp, tucks her daughter in, and kisses her forehead. Just before she leaves, she hears it: murmured, half-awake.

“Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Karen goes back to her living room, car keys in hand. She’s planned her next move in the driver’s seat enough times throughout her career that it shouldn’t be too hard. 

[therhythmafterthesummer]

I'm the anon who sent the ask about Pack Mum and her frustrations; your version is fucking top notch (I'm just a switchy bitch lol) and let's be real, don't we all need a bit of that in our lives? 😩😩😩 would love to see Chris' version of that too, whatever you write is going to be amazing either way 😍

previous ask for reference

fun fact, i have a handful of drabbles written for these two that have never left my google docs (some of them probably won't, ever), since i use them as practice. for this particular scenario i already had something written, so might as well share it with y'all. please bear with me, this is barely proof read sjkdfhsdkjf

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you don’t really need to read any other instalments to understand/enjoy this one). | Word Count: ~2k. | Warnings: smut | established relationship · pet names · oral [F.&M.Rec] · edging · face sitting/fucking, all that good stuff · spanking

minors do not interact.

> Chris💕🐺: pretty baby  > howre u feeling today > ???

< You: hey darling < i’m very meh < but still standing so it’s fine < you? 

> Chris💕🐺: im having a really bad day > dont wanna get into details but god i just wanna be home

< You: oh no ): < can i help you in any way?

You saw the ‘Typing…’ text under Chris’ contact name pop up and disappear a few times before he finally replied.

> Chris💕🐺: actually… > maybe > u can say no btw > but > would u sit on my face and let me edge you for a long while when im back home?

< You: how long is a long while?

> Chris💕🐺: a really long while > as much as u can stand it > just wanna dive between ur legs > want to suffocate on your cunt and your thighs baby > so bad > fuck > had to come to hide in the restroom for a bit cuz im so hard rn just thinking about it

You couldn’t help but chuckle. But being honest with yourself, the proposition certainly gave you a similar reaction to Chris’. All you could think about now was having your boyfriend’s tongue between your legs, aided by his lips and his nose to bring you to that sweet, sweet edge over and over again…

Wetness was starting to pool at your centre, your thighs pressed together to ease some of that familiar ache, and you honestly had to make the conscious effort to remember you were still at the office, in a very public space.

Your phone vibrating again in your hand brought you back from your little day dream.

> Chris💕🐺: again > u can totally say no

< You: mmm🤔 < i’d love to sit on my alpha’s handsome face < would you let me grind on it baby?

> Chris💕🐺: fuck… yes > anything as long as u just dont come > not until i tell you to > or until u cant take it anymore > yeah? 

< You: yea 😇

> Chris💕🐺: fuck > ure so good to me pretty > seriously > im gonna make u feel so good love > hydrate yourself as much as u can > its gonna be so worth it > love u prettiest

< You: love you babiest

The rest of your workday was honestly a blur. All you could think about was the evening that awaited you. So, when you finally reached home–with your boyfriend nowhere in sight–you simply took a quick shower to get squeaky clean and got yourself into one of his t-shirts to ensure his scent was all over you when he came home.

As soon as Chris made it through the front door he gave you a quick kiss, dropped his belongings wherever, and made a beeline to the bathroom to take a shower–all as he discarded pieces of clothing on the way. A very delightful sight, you’d admit.

Now here you were, laying on the sofa and scrolling on your phone, waiting for him to come out.

The second he’d gotten out of the shower, barely even patting himself dry, with his hair still wet, Chris made his way to you.

Before you could even stand up, he was already hovering over you, kissing you deeply for a moment, only to finally trace a path of kisses to your neck so he could nibble at your pulsepoint.

“Been thinking about you all day, pretty baby”, he mumbled against your skin, licking the area and kissing it after. 

“Me too, darling…” A sigh of relief passed your lips, while you all but melted under the attention your boyfriend was providing to your neck. “You got me so wet”, taking a hold of his hand, you guided it to your core, where his fingers traced your folds, spreading your essence with a deep inhale. “So fucking wet just thinking about you, Chris”. 

“Fuck…You smell so fucking good…” Burying his face further in the crook of your neck, he sucked on your pulse point, just as he eased two fingers into you, making you moan in surprise as he diligently massaged your walls. 

You bared your neck, giving your boyfriend plenty of room for him to paint purple roses on your skin. Holding tightly onto his arms, you couldn’t help but squirm a little when he started to thrust his fingers in and out of you, once he started curling them to hit that sweet spot within your warmth.

“So tight, baby…” Chris mumbled as he eased a third finger into you, making you whine at the delicious stretch. “We don’t fuck for a couple of days and it’s almost like your cunt has forgotten me…” 

You shook your head, swallowing the saliva that had pooled in your mouth. “Impossible. She–she knows who she belongs to”.

“Fuck…” Pulling his fingers out of you, he straightened himself. “Come here, beautiful”.

Chris laid down, motioning for you to place each knee next to his head. You did as asked, staring at him between your legs as you lowered yourself, hovering just a bit while he caressed your thighs. 

“C’mon, baby”, Chris borderline whined, bringing his hands to your hips and holding you tightly. “Sit”. 

“I’m…baby, I don’t wanna crush you”.

This was a common debate when you found yourselves in this situation. Sometimes you didn’t even need to think twice about complying, but, as a heavier person, other times you were a bit unsure. Today was one of those days, clearly. And as usual, your boyfriend was quick to reassure you.

“Babe, we’ve been through this. I’m a fucking animal, remember? All that werewolf thing? You’re not gonna crush me”, he chuckled. “Sit on me, get comfy, and brace yourself, yeah?” 

With a deep inhale, you nodded, finally lowering yourself all the way. You couldn’t hold back the gasp that left your mouth as soon as you felt Chris’ tongue make contact with your heat. “Oh–”

His tongue running through your folds, teasing your entrance, licking your clit, sucking on it…Every single one of his motions had tingles of pleasure travelling up and down your spine, had your chest heaving, and quiet whines coming out of your mouth.

Bringing his hands to your thighs, he held you tightly in place, so tight you wondered if you’d see a mark left in the shape of his fingers later–something you were admittedly eager to see. He was groaning a lot, you were moaning a lot, and, in no time, he had reduced you to a whimpering mess.

Maybe it was all that daydreaming you’d been doing after he sent you those texts, maybe it was just how good your boyfriend was at working you up, but you were very quickly getting close to the edge, almost ready to tip over it.

“Baby…Chris, fuck, I’m…close”, your voice quivered a bit, and Chris simply hummed in response, finally slowing his movements. 

His hands roamed your body as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub, the pressure was light enough that the signs of your approaching orgasm seemed to be fading away. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were going to stand this at all. You’d try, of course, but you realised very quickly how badly you wanted your relief.

Kneading your breasts, Chris simply continued his motions, slowly licking your clit, or dipping his tongue inside of you for a taste. You couldn’t help but roll your hips, trying to get some extra stimulation. And whenever he licked at your entrance, his nose would bump your clit, and it had you pathetically whining as you ground your core on his face. 

When Chris finally opened his eyes to look at you, you stared right back. 

That stare-off had the fine hairs on the back of your neck standing on end, and you were immediately trapped in that undeniably predator look of his.

It was kind of amusing, how that look seemed to have the complete opposite effect it should have on you. It should’ve made you feel intimidated, scared, but after spending this much time with Chris, after giving yourself to him so many times already, the trust you had in him made it so that stare of his just made you want to be closer to him. It enticed you, it made you shiver, made you wetter, and, right now, just by looking at him, at that utterly primal desire in his eyes, you could feel yourself grow closer to your climax again.

You genuinely couldn’t tell how long you spent right there. You had already lost count of how many times he’d brought you to the edge by the fifth time. Your legs were starting to burn, your lower back hurt, and you suddenly felt like you needed something in your mouth. 

“C–Chris”, you tugged on his hair, gasping when he quickened the pace of his tongue. “Baby… Want–”

He squeezed your bum, one butcheek in each hand, surely bruising you with the strength of his grip. It made you dizzy, and you were sure you were dripping all over him by now. He released his hold on one of your buttocks, only to land a harsh smack on it after, urging you to speak, making you shamelessly moan with the action. 

Chris hardly ever spanked you–aside from a playful, mild smack here and there. He’d told you before that he felt like he already put your body through so much with everything else, adding that, too, was just unnecessary, and that it could possibly hurt you too much. But, fuck, if the sting felt good whenever he did.

“Need your cock, baby”, you finally sighed, trembling with your upcoming release. Chris gave you a curious look, not stopping his tongue for a second, so you decided to clarify. “In my mouth, Chris. Please…”

Taking a hold of your hips, he lifted you up a bit, enough to talk. “Turn around, pretty”.

Your legs were incredibly unsteady, but you managed to do it, finally laying on Chris with his tongue once again in its rightful place within your warmth. 

Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sight of your boyfriend’s cock. Incredibly hard, twitching, and with an impressive pool of pre-cum under his tip where it laid on his lower abdomen. He was clearly enjoying this a lot, and just the sight had you clenching with need..

When you took him in your hand, his thighs jerked a bit, and a moan muffled against your skin as he continued to feast on your cunt. You simply pumped him in your hand, once, twice, relishing just how hard he was. 

Wasting no more time, you licked a long stripe from his base to the tip, swirling your tongue around it for good measure. Until, finally, you took him in your mouth, eliciting a shared moan from the both of you. 

Chris’ hands dragged up and down your back, kneading your flesh as he went, moaning against your heat whenever you got him deeper into your mouth, whenever your nails dug on his thighs. 

All of a sudden, you felt Chris’ hand land harshly on one of your buttocks. The sudden sting made you moan around his length and clench around thin air. He did it again on the other, holding the supple flesh of your bum tightly in his hands right after in an attempt to soothe your skin. 

His length popped out of your mouth with a sinful sucking sound. With a hazy mind and a needy cunt, you were speaking before you could think twice about it. “More…”

Chris immediately complied, smacking one of your buttcheeks again, groaning lowly as your moans spilled freely out in the room without his cock in your mouth.

He repeated the motions a handful of times, all while you jerked him to the best of your now compromised motor skills. Your moans got increasingly more desperate the more he spanked you, and your whole body trembled with arousal.

“Pretty…” Chris mumbled, keeping you off of him enough so you could hear him, although you barely could, you were too far gone. “Put my cock back in your mouth, baby. Suck me off, and when I spank you again, you can come. Okay?” 

“Okay…”

“Good, good girl”, Chris pulled you back on his mouth, eliciting a shaky moan from your lips. 

You did as asked, taking him once again into your mouth and sucking him, rather eagerly, if you might add. Your lips caught on the ridge of his head time and time again, his tongue and his lips focused on your clit, licking and sucking harder and faster by the second, just how he did whenever he wanted you to come, and when you finally felt the sting on your ass again, you could hardly make sense of your surroundings anymore.

Before you knew it, your entire body shook with your release, desperately moaning around Chris’ length as pleasure tears fell from your eyes. It was so much, so intense, and when Chris held the back of your head in place with one of his hands and started to thrust up into your mouth you were sure you had already died and gone to heaven.

It felt like you were coming for an eternity, the sheer intensity of your release had you shaking and squirming in your boyfriend’s hold. The most satisfying part of it all, though, was when you vaguely registered Chris’ warmth flooding your mouth, making you moan once again just at the feel of his cum going down your throat, making you dizzy just by the blissed-out sounds that were coming out of his mouth. 

You swallowed it all, sucking on his tip until the very last drop of his release had coated your tongue, and as soon as Chris detached himself from your core, your body slumped, your vision clouded, and a ringing broke free in your ears.

“Baby? Baby, please. Talk to me”, Chris sounded so close. But how could he if your heads were in completely opposite directions?

“Pretty?” You felt his hands on your cheeks, and once you opened your eyes and saw the worried look on his face, you realised you were laying on the sofa, while he was crouching on the floor next to you. When did he move? He was just below you a few seconds ago. 

“Did I…Did I pass out?” You blinked at him, reaching for his hand on your face to softly caress the back of it. 

“Fuck, you did. For a few seconds. I thought I had choked you to death. Are you okay? I’m so sorry”, he was going into his Protective Alpha mode, and it made you smile. 

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t apologise. Give me a kiss”, you did feel a bit lightheaded, but you also felt light all over, as if your crushing orgasm had taken all the tension off of your body completely.

Chris sighed, pecking your lips, your nose, your cheeks, all over your face. “Fuck, give me a second. I’ll bring you some water”. 

You simply hummed, stretching your achy limbs and turning on your other side to face the backrest.

When Chris came back, you gulped the glass of water in one go before you gave it back to him so he could place it on the coffee table. 

You made grabby hands at him, and he chuckled, laying behind you and pulling you to his chest so he could press kisses on your shoulder.

“That was insane”, you mumbled while you caressed the arm he had wrapped around your waist. 

“It was, fuck…I got too carried away, you’re all bruised, love”, his fingers gently traced the curve of your bum, and you leaned into his touch. 

“Felt so good, though”, you sighed, content, further pressing your back to his chest. “So good I passed out, baby. That’s a new record”. 

Chris giggled, and you couldn’t help but giggle as well. 

“Do you feel better?” You asked, snuggling closer, relishing his warmth on your back, his warmth all around you.

“I feel like I won a million euros, a billion dollars, a trillion won…You get the point”, Chris nuzzled your nape, pressing lingering kisses there, all as he brought a hand to your belly to lightly squish your soft flesh. “Honestly just what I needed. For my pretty girlfriend to feel insanely good, and to blow my load in her perfect, warm mouth”.

You chuckled, taking a hold of his hand and bringing it to your lips so you could press a kiss on his palm, right before you turned around in his hold and cupped his cheeks, smiling at him. “I love you”. 

“Love you”, he repeated immediately, diving in for a kiss. When he pulled back, he held you tightly, pressing kisses on your cheeks. “You’re so good to me”.

“And you to me, baby”, you mumbled back, kissing him on the cheek before you tucked your head under his chin.

You both laid there for a moment, a moment of just your soft caresses on each other’s exposed skin. Until Chris heaved a satisfied sigh, pulling away from your embrace to stand up from the sofa.

“C’mon, pretty. Time to be pampered and cuddle in the tub”, Chris took you in his arms. A soft chuckle left your lips, and you held onto him, pressing tender kisses on his neck all the way to the bathroom.

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know !

@222wonnie · @staaa96 · @oiminho · @straylightdream · @starshine-moon · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @dearalice · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @chanlovesme · @liminaldaydream · @sstarryreads · @svngiem · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @cessixja · @mimzibee · @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @phobia0325 · @leebitsimpracha · @viviixlyy · @casualenthusiastexpert · @kileidoscope · @kpop-bbdoll · @crispytigerearthquake · @meloncremesoda · @amaranth-writing · @fawnpeaks · @dalamjisung

[gtzel]

Help! My classmate is a size shifter!

3.Oh Crap! You're Awake

(first/previous/next)

I had been scrolling on his phone, trying to distract Myself from the overwhelming panic my brain had resorted to, when I heard my shrunken classmate begin to stir. I immediately froze to see what he was going to do.

the tiny figure of Elijah was laying on top of an old folded up t-shirt, which acted as a make shift blanket as well. he slowly started to wake up, rubbing his eyes. Elijah was so tiny and frail looking, not to mention the lack  of color on his skin, which couldn't have been normal. or maybe it was normal, after all, I had only recently met him and his overall complexion was quite pale. anyway, he was waking up, and i just sat there frozen in shock and awe.

he sat up and opened his eyes, the shirt sliding down his bare torso and crumpling in his lap. he seemed dazed at first then began to look around in a panic.

His eyes drifted around the room as he looked around with a confused demeanor. I watched him carefully until his eyes eventually landed on me. When we locked eyes a shock went through the room.

"h-hey....eli" i said softly, raising my hands as a sign of peace. unfortunately for me, it didnt work, as just the entire shock of the situation caused him to shrink back. he clamped his hand over his mouth as he looked at me. 

the way his eyes widened with horror as he looked at me broke my heart. i felt so guilty for scaring him. i saw itty bitty tears well up in his eyes, and i started to panic, not sure how to deal with a tiny hysterical person. 

"wait wait wait wait wait! hey bro its just me, its okay...im here" i leaned closer to his delicate form reaching out my hand gently.

"w-w-whats....whats going on....why are you- what happened to-" i saw him struggling to stay calm as his tiny form shook with anxiety.

"hey hey, its okay im here to help you" i cooed moving my hand to brush against his tiny arm. he flinched back violently which made me feel terrible. my heart squeezed with guilt as i saw my friend look at me like i was a monster.

i cringed "sorry, do you not want me to touch you?" i stayed still waiting for his response. he pressed his tiny mouth into a thin line and shook his head. i sighed, which ruffled his shaggy black bangs out of his face momentarily, and moved my hand away from him.

"i guess.....your probably pretty confused and scared right now" i looked down at my hand, sadly in awe of how scared he must be of me. for good reason too, i could-not that i would EVER do such a thing- crush him with barely any effort. 

"w-what....w-why am i-" he choaked unable to continue the sentence.

"listen, i dont know myself. all i know is we were hanging out one second, then you double down and...you like...started glowing..." i raised my eyes to meet his gaze, my heart twinged as i saw he still was on edge and frantically glancing around. "....and then you just disappeared, and i found you like this in a pile of your clothes. i got scared and brought you to my place, its the only thing i could think to  do" i said guiltily.

there was a tense silence that blanketed the room as i waited for eli to calm down enough to talk. i was about to speak when i heard a faint sniffling coming from my nightstand. i looked up to see elijah wiping away tears, his legs curled up in front of him. 

"o-oh, eli" i cooed silently "its..its gunna be okay" i said trying to calm him and using all my willpower to not touch him. 

"am-am i going to be s-stuck like this f-f-forever?" he looked up at me with terrified tear filled eyes in desperation. 

"im-im not sure, but ill do everything i can to help you" i leaned in closer, trying to make him feel better. he scooted back anxiously away from me and looked up at me with fear.

"w-what are....you going to do with me?" the way he phrased it broke my heart. i looked at him sadly, and he returned the gaze with fear. 

"eli-" i stopped, feeling my own tears well up at the realization that my friend thought i would do something to harm him, that i would take his free will just because of his predicament "elijah, i would never do anything to hurt you, well find a way for you to be normal again, i promise" i just wanted to scoop him up and cuddle him, assure him that everything was going to be alright. but i couldn't, he was small and scared of ME and i had to get him to trust me before i could help him with anything.

he bit his lip and nodded, hugging his knees tightly. i wanted so badly to hold him again, help him feel better. i wanted to comfort him and hug him and tell him everything would be okay. 

"c-can i....can i hold you, eli?" i said softly looking town at him with pleading eyes.

a bead of anxious sweat trickled down my forehead as i anticipated his answer. he looked at me hesitantly and gulped. his eyes wandering up my torso and meeting my eyes as he shuttered involuntarily.  

i sighed "i-if you dont want to its fine, i jus thought it might-" i started before he interrupted me.

"okay" one word. but that one word made my heart swell with affection and relief. 

"okay" i breathed in eco as i reached out my hand to grab him, then a thought crossed my mind. i changed my hand positioning to be palm upward laying it next to him. "get on when you feel comfortable" i smiled encouragingly.

[v3nusxsky]

Those dresses 18+

*Authors note~ I'm loving writing and interacting with you all. It brings me so much joy. And I must say some of my regular requesters are honestly making my day by coming back. I'm glad I can create something so special for you*

Trigger warnings~ mommy kink, dom Larissa sub r degrading praise strap oral

Prompt~ Hi im back with a request g i was thinking 16 (Quiet love, you don't want everyone to hear) and 82 (Please don't make me answer that) sound good! I dont know if they go together or better apart, thats up to you Imk what u think xX~ requested by my darling idkaname666666 on wattpad

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You had been crushing on the headmistress of Nevermore ever since you had gained your position here. Maybe it was her goddess like appearance, maybe it was her sexy British accent or maybe it was just everything all in one. Yet you had never found the words or confidence to tell her. The students loved your classes and anytime you were asked to go into her office she was always kind and supportive of your work. She noted your shy nature and the way you wouldn't hold eye contact with her for too long. She would make an effort to extend kind smiles your way in an hope to make you feel more comfortable around her. To Larissa your reactions were consistent with someone being uncomfortable in her presence. She didn't believe that you could possibly be interested in her in any other kind of capacity.

This behaviour had been going on for a while now and honestly every time you two were alone in a room together it was painfully obvious that it wasn't going to change. And that is why Larissa promised herself the next time an opportunity should arise she would try to sort out whatever was making you so uncomfortable around her, yet with other staff members you were perfectly okay. You would often have a laugh and little jokes with other staff members, in fact you seemed to be quite close with Marilyn. That's why it was no surprise when she had managed to over hear Marilyn teasing you. You had become distracted from the conversation when you caught sight of the headmistress in her new form fitting dress, the colour highlighting her beautiful features. A blush had covered your cheeks instantly, Marilyn taking the chance to tease you.

"When are you going to tell her y/n? You can't keep blushing like a school girl every time you catch a glimpse of the women, she's going to thing your shy or something" her tone was light and teasing but she held valid points. You wanted to tell Larissa your feelings but the fear of rejection was high. When your phone alerted you with a notification you were shocked to see an email from the one and only women who held your heart, requesting your presence in her office immediately. You groaned and Marilyn couldn't help but laugh, hugging you and whispering words of encouragement watching as you made your way to the office.

You knocked twice and her voice rang out giving you permission to enter. You did so and closed the door quietly jumping slightly when her voice rang out through the office telling you to lock the door. You did so and anxiously came to sit in front of her desk. Your hands clasped to gather showing your anxious state. You were avoiding her gaze knowing if you looked up you'd catch sight of that new dress and you wouldn't be able to keep your thoughts pure.

"Y/n? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable darling? I see how you are with others, and how different you are with me. The last thing I would want is for you to be uncomfortable darling" she murmured. Your brain was processing what the women had said, uncomfortable? You weren't uncomfortable, you just wished to be with her in more than a professional way. "It's uh, you don't, I'm not uncomfortable but um I" you stuttered and stumbled over your words. This was harder than you could've ever imagined. The smirk and glint in Larissa's eyes told you that she finally understood what was going on with you. "Darling what is it then?" She all but purred at you.

"Please don't make me answer that" you whimpered out glancing up at the women through your eyelashes. Really you weren't in much of a position to demand anything so you settled for pleading with her. Only to be met with a chuckle, "I thought you wanted to be my good little whore?" Which caused a Scarlett red blush to spread across your cheeks. "It's um the dresses. So attractive and you in general are just woah and it makes me nervous because you're a literal goddess" you mumbled keeping your gaze on the floor.

She chuckled at you silently questioning how she had missed out on what was clearly signs of interest. "Darling come here" she demanded and you were instantly on your feet complying with her demand. "Darling, can I make you feel good?" She murmured with a finger under your chin so you couldn't avoid her gaze. "Please" you whimpered out and that was all the confirmation she needed to bark another command at you, "Strip and knell then my darling"

You sunk to your knees instantly whimpering at the sight of her panty clad core underneath her dress. "Does my dirty girl want to make mommy feel good" she hummed out watching your eyes darken at the words. You couldn't help but whimper and plead with Larissa to let you please her. With a smirk she lifted her hips allowing you to remove her underwear and lift her dress up to sit above her hips. She smirked when your hands faulted at her dress. The dresses seemed to be your weakness and she made a mental note for that later.

You immediately kissed up her exposed thighs making your way to her dripping cunt, adding a nip to the inside of their thigh before soothing it with your tongue. You brought your mouth to where she wanted it causing her to moan out for you. The noises the she made spurring on your movements alongside the taste of her arousal. The finest taste you had ever experienced and you could quite easily see yourself becoming addicted. And when she came for you, we'll it was although the angels above where singing. Her moans music to your ears, you were most definitely addicted. You made sure to lick up every last drop of your reward.

Larissa pulled you upwards into a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. "Such a good slut for me aren't you darling?" She purred out before bringing her lips to your neck to kiss and suck over the soft skin. A simple moan was all it took to spur the older women into a desire of making you experience pleasure just as she had. She reached a hand into the desk and pulled out a sinfully delicious looking strap on. You let out an involuntary moan at the sight, thoughts rushing through your mind at all the ways she could use the strap with you. "Oh you're such a dirty girl for mommy aren't you? Would you like mommy to fill that needy pussy of yours" she taunted watching as you nodded eagerly.

It was almost instantly that Larissa has settled the strap on her body and had you bent over her desk. "Darling can I?" She mumbled into your ear before nipping at the lobe. Pleas tumbling from your lips were cut off by a loud moan as she entered your aching core. Larissa stilled allowing you to adjust to her size and taunted "quite love, you don't want everyone to hear just what a dirty slut you are for me now do you?" To which you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood before rocking your hips backwards in a silent plea for her to move.

Moans filled Larissa's office as she bottomed out with every snap of her hips, building your path to what would be the most earth shattering orgasm you would ever have. Being quiet had long since flown out of the window as you approached the edge. Your mind clouded by desire and need. With a particularly harsh thrust and her finger snaked it's way to rub circles on your aching bundle of nerves you felt yourself thrown violently over the edge. It was as if the world stopped spinning as you cried out for her. She slowed her thrusts to help you come back from your high, only when your whimpers became that of overstimulation did she slip from your core.

After ridding herself of the strap she sat back in her chair and pulled your exhausted body towards hers. Cradling you in her arms she could see you were on a different planet, your mind fuzzy and empty. "Darling? Are you in there pretty? Can you come back to me my love?" She coed a hand rubbing slow circles over your back. It took you a few try's buy you managed to blink the hazy feeling away with a sleepy smile you murmured "I love you Rissa" before giving into exhaustion.

Word count ~ 1564

[yoongiaahh]

First Day - Me or Him

title: first day

series: me or him

pairing: yoongi x reader(f), namjoon x reader(f)

genre: love triangle ; rating m (18+)

summary: as you and your best friend start the first day of senior year you realize you have no classes together. you don't like people and stray away until someone catches your eye in class, not only that but you're assigned to sit next to each other. this is not how you wanted to kick off the first day of school… will feelings bloom? does your bestfriend approve?

note: hiiii this is my first fanfic so im really nervous lol. i decided on a series because as i was writing my mind was RACINGGG lmao i had so many ideas and didnt want it to be forever long. so i hope youll stay along for the ride. please let me know how you like it! im trying to work on my writing skills so any tips are appreciated :) as for the fic its gonna be spicy but itll be a slow burn so dont get your hopes up lol i want to give you a good taste of the characters before jumping in. i wanted to keep this chapter pretty short to begin so we can leave off with a little cliff hanger SORRY itll be worth it i promise! im also new to the tumblr writing scene and still figuring out the controls AGAIN tips appreciated! thank you <3

warnings: none YET

estimated total wc: 1.6k

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Your alarm is much louder than you're used to. Not that it matters, you had woken up a whole two hours before it went off.

It’s the first day of your senior year, you can hardly keep your smoothie down due to the rumbling pit of nervousness in your stomach. As you are pacing the room waiting for your brother to come bursting through the door you get a phone call. It's Namjoon, your best friend since middle school and suddenly you feel a little better about how the rest of your day is going to go knowing he’ll be right by your side.

“You ready? I'll be there in five.”

“As ready as I'll ever be Joonie.” You say with a smirk and major sarcasm wondering how you landed a friend so opposite from you.

“Perk up, it's our senior year… what could go wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever see you soon.” Hanging up the phone quickly you grab your bag and run down stairs. You practically plowed through your brother as he was running up to make sure you were ready.

He’s pissed you can just tell by the way his eyes bolt directly to yours.

“Are you fucking kidding me, I had the courtesy of coming to get you and you repay me by messing up my hair.” His words come out like an avalanche as he immediately runs to fix what you supposedly messed up, yet it doesn't look like one strand fell out of place.

“Tae maybe instead of worrying about your appearance so much you can put more effort into school this year.” You scream through the house.

Your brother is a year below you and a complete douche. It comes across your mind more than ever how the two of you can be related. He's the king of his class, making new friends every day while you have had one friend for the entirety of the time you've been in this city. You’ve never really had the want or need to have anyone else than Joon, and you’re glad you havent had to share since he’s never kept another friend besides his gaming buddies.

Joon finally arrives at your driveway. As you're walking out the door you remind yourself there's only one more year of this hell you've been going through for the past three years. You atleast need to get through today, leave your worries for tomorrow and do your best.

The car ride to school lifts your spirits as you listen to Joon gawk about all the clubs he wants to enter and all the classes he signed himself up for. You’re happy for him but not at all what you are thinking about at the moment. Playing your favorite tunes through his amped speakers you reflect on the amazing summer you had and wish that it never had to end.

Gathering your things you and Joon walk up to the bulletin board to check what classes you got put into. Just as your morning got better all the nervousness you had earlier hits you like a truck. You don't have a single class together with him, which in the five years of knowing each other has never happened.

Immediately you both turn your heads in shock. You knew one day this would happen but why the first semester of your last year. You're sweating bullets not knowing how you'll get through today without him.

Trying to make you feel better, Joon offers to switch a class in hopes the teacher would approve.

“It’s alright Joonie, you already said how excited you were for the classes you picked and you got into all of them. I’ll manage somehow.” As soon as you say it you regret it. He would definitely switch if you had just agreed but you don't want to hold him back.

“Well we still have lunch together so just keep your cool till then.” His smile is the nausea pill you wish you had.

He wraps you up in a hug, letting you know everything will be alright. Once separated from the embrace you needed you make your way to your first class of the day.

The bell rings and students come piling in to take their seats before the teacher starts going over the plans for the semester. Writing everything in your notebook to keep your mind off this lonely day that has just started.

It’s not that you don't like school, you actually very much enjoy it and have always kept good grades. You’re just horrible at conversation and not much of a people person to begin with.

Joon and you had been paired together for a project way back when, which is how you and him ended up being friends. He is a very straightforward person so making conversation with him was never an issue, and you actually had quite a bit in common. He could clearly tell you were shy so to say the least he started most of the talk between you two. Once the project had been turned in everyone had returned back to their chosen seating to sit with their friends and you were surprised to see that he chose to continue sitting by you. Since that day you had been inseparable.

Lunch is finally here. Classes fled by quick since it was mostly introductions and receiving your sylbasses. Your backpack feeling like a brick from the textbooks you gathered you make your way to the cafeteria. You quickly find Joon and walk up to the line to get food.

“So how’d it go? Make any friends?” Joon snickers as he says the last part, knowing you all too well.

“Oh yeah I actually already have a new best friend so I guess i'll go sit with them.” Turning your head pretending to look for someone as Joon lets out a laugh. You spin around to smack his arm knowing he saw right through your mockery.

“As much as I would hate to be replaced, it wouldn't kill you to make a friend or atleast find someone else to talk to.” Nudging your shoulder as he says the words.

“I’m good with my small circle, thanks”

You both go back and forth with how the day has gone so far. He couldn't go on enough about how happy he is with his classes, which makes you forget the regret you had earlier about his offer.

The lunch bell goes off so you both clear your trays and head out to the hallways. Study hall is next for you so the nerves have suppressed as you know you can put your earbuds in and tune out the class. Joon gives you a wink and lets you know to meet back at his car when the day is over.

Heading to your locker to put the stack of textbooks you received away you get a text.

JoonieBug🪲🤍

Fighting❤️

Whatever loser❤️

You giggle as you put your phone back in your pocket and head to your class.

“Hello class, I hope your first day of senior year has been great! As you all know, study hall is your hour window to get caught up with your work or take a breather and relax before heading to the rest of your classes.” The teacher says much too loud for your liking. “I have put a seating chart together in hopes everyone can meet some fresh new faces. Please follow this chart as it is part of your participation grade.”

Great.

The last thing you wanted was to meet ‘fresh new faces’.

You grab your assigned seat and whip out your airpods in hopes that the person who's placed next to you takes the hint and stays to themself. Though to your surprise the bell had rung and the seat next to you was still vacant.

As you get out your syllabi to scan and send to your mother you hear commotion at the front of the class. You take out an airpod to see what is going on and you're taken aback when you see a boy with bleached blonde hair rolling his eyes as the teacher is complaining to him about being late. You don't know why but there are butterflies in your stomach as you look at him. Retracting your gaze he turns to meet your eyes. and the butterflies only get worse as you see him heading to the seat next to you.

He throws himself down in the seat and you can feel the heat in your cheeks rising. You don't know why your body is reacting this way.

In all of your other classes you had gotten a seat to yourself luckily but that wasn't the case here.

Hoping he doesn't notice your face looking like a cherry, you press play on your phone and get back to sending the photos to your mom.

“From the way you look you either really didn't want someone sitting here or you must be absolutely enthralled that I’m the person to sit here.”

You barely make out the words as you throw your head around to look at the all too cocky boy taking up the seat next to you.

“I-I don't know what youre talking about.” Turning away with a flushed face. Your mind racing wondering why he would even spout out those words.

“Yoongi”

“What?”

“My name silly, I’m Yoongi.”

“Oh okay”

The smirk on his face is absolutely annoying. You want to slap it right off his face.

“So do I get to know your name?” The smirk slowly turns into a grin as his eyebrow cocks up.

“Alright class, enjoy the rest of your day, I’ll see those bright faces tomorrow.” Your teacher says as the class ending bell goes off.

You have never gathered your things into your bag with such haste. Not realizing you left your notebook on the desk you throw the bag over your shoulder as you dart out the door to get anywhere but that classroom.

[thephloxbayou]

Im so fucking angry.

I wasnt going to talk about going per protocol but this was so fucking lame it doesn't matter. It was never a threat or a blink on existence.

I went to a local vigil for Aaron Bushnell.

Now, a few things. This is my first time getting to go to anything like this. I have a sleep disorder, and I work nights. Usually activist groupings tend to happen last minute/you find out last minute. I'm far from Boston, on Cape Cod (I've mentioned where i lived generally before hence why I dont mind saying it here), and it's an ordeal to go even for fun. Things rarely happen on days I have off, and if they do, i probably worked the night before or have to that night. I cant take work off, im poor and its hard to get last minute coverage without my job being at risk.

But I found out yesterday about the local vigil. I rested up well before my shift, did it and came home and got very little sleep. But I could manage and that was the point, I could so I should. I had clothes prepped, black bloc even though i didnt expect anything to happen, and dressed for the cold and rain (its closer to 50 today). My phone was at home, my ID and house key in the car, parked some ways away and walked, only had my car key, a water bottle, and a few fruit snacks on me. It started at 1pm but I got there at 2 (lack of sleep plus making sure to eat a good meal just in case rather than run out on a near empty stomach).

I didnt expect a ton, this area is wealthy and white, but I wanted to be ready if anyone of color got harrassed because I have my privilege as a white person. Good to practice anyways. I also felt like maybe the gathering would have more energy, given that it came out that Aaron was a Cape Cod native. Either way, I was prepared to stand outside all day even if the rain that was forecasted was pouring down.

Well I walk up at 2... and they're wrapping up. Everyone (like 45 people) is standing around with signs, but theyre chatting and holding the signs down at their sides. They took a group photo with their signs calling for an end to this horribleness while smiling. I finally managed to say hello to the organizer, and mentioned that I didn't realize everyone would only be here for an hour. "Well it started to rain really hard." People stood around and talked about their anger at our government, and the horrors of whats happening in Palestine, then left because they were cold and it was wet (was listening to conversations and goodbyes. I was wandering on my own, everyone else was with friends). I heard the organizer talking about how he just vacationed in Costa Rica and was going back, then going to some other vacation spot.

My husband was surprised when I came home basically right after I left. I am so deeply angry by how comfortable these people out here are. This is not the first time Ive complained about that, i grew up with a hard life, we came out here on an opportunity, so I wouldnt off myself in the bad situation we had been in, and with his mother's help where she could (he grew up here). Ive never felt comfortable here because these people are living in a different world than I do, and even people who are just normal people and not some rich asshole look at me weird when I say stuff that I consider perfectly normal given where i grew up/class level. You're so angry over this, over the pain the people of Palestine are going through, that you go through the effort of organizing an event, and you stand around and talk about your "anger," and then you LEAVE after an hour because it's a little cold (warmest day we've had in weeks) and it's raining, which was forecasted and you could prepare for???

I havent calmed down. I cant go back to sleep cuz I already took my adderall which i need to stay awake on any regular day with that sleep disorder. I went ready for a fight, I wasnt expecting one but I was prepared, and expected at least a little energy from the group. But nothing. You accomplished nothing but making yourselves feel better.

I wish I could do more. I wish I had money to donate. I wish I had the ability to go physically support activist movement. All just like I wish I could during the summer of 2020. Im constantly torn between recognizing my position and suffering as valid and not a reason to beat myself up for not being able to do more, and feeling like I'm not doing enough and it's just excuses. But I just... cant fucking believe everyone I saw today. I mean yeah, i believe it, i know, i knew, but im just still furious. This is why we're in this fucking position people.