#but man with family. friends. even like coworkers i thought i was closer to

[youandthemountains]

drives me sooo irrationally insane when i feel like a Task for people

[gt-daboss]

Slight Horror, Fantasy Mixed With Modern Elements

Behind the Books (Part 1)

Hell no, the human probably thought. And Shevana couldn’t exactly blame him.

Every human knew of the dangers of meeting a witch. From bedtime stories told by parents to get children to go to sleep to unexplained disappearances of friends, family, or coworkers. Witches were a constant, unavoidable threat to any human. The boogieman that stays hidden in plain sight, any man or woman you meet on the street could be a witch in disguise trying to prey on the unsuspecting. 

And now I’ve not only summoned a random human but shrunk him as well. 

“Reveal yourself, human, I am the only one who can revert you to your true form, so unless you want to scamper around my floors for the rest of your pathetic life, you will come out now.” 

Even Shevana was a little bit surprised at the harshness of her voice, her gruff and annoyed tone she knew would sound even worse to the 3-inch tall man hiding in her room, never mind the unavoidable fact of her being a witch. Still no response, Obviously, ‘Vana, you can’t even hold a conversation when they don't know you’re a witch.

“Listen, Alex, this is all a big misunderstanding, It is not you who I’m after. If you continue to waste my time, however, I will make you part of their punishment.”

“How- how do you know my name?”

The bookshelves. Wasting no time to answer his question, she immediately turned toward the sound of his voice and began walking. In the back of her mind, she realized how scary this probably looked for the tiny human, but it was quickly brushed aside by her annoyance at the whole situation.

Slamming her hand onto the shelf she heard Alex’s voice, she tapped her fingers in annoyance. “Come out, now, I know you are there, do not make me reach for you, human.”

No response, of course, Thats it.

Shoving away her grimoires, Shevana quickly spotted the now-revealed human. Shaking like a scared animal, when he saw her hand reach toward him he bolted. A fruitless effort, but once again she felt her heart nag at her, which she once again ignorantly ignored in the heat of the moment. Snatching Alex up in a tight grip, she brought him closer.

“Wait! Please, don’t!” the human screamed as he squirmed violently in my hand. Many witches had told her their experiences of the first time having full control over a human, –usually through soul manipulation rather than her own size-related one– it was always described as an elating feeling of power. To hold so easily a person's life in one's hand, holding their destiny in your fingertips as they were powerless to stop your whim, their will submitting to your own…

The reality was nothing like that.

Not at all. It was sickening. 

The human’s, cold, shifting body pushed ineffectively against her large digits, digits, whose delicate senses detected the rapid pounding of the human’s heartbeat like a hand to drums. Only instead of the melody of drums it was unfiltered, heartstopping fear. 

Fear of her. 

Thats all for now, I wanted to keep it short since whenever i make long projects they somehow never get completed (looks at my 5 WIP's) but i did leave some mysteries in the story that would be resolved if there was a part 2 to try and motivate myself to complete it lol.

PART 2

[beardedjoel]

closer | part thirteen

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au  

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3  

chapter summary: it’s the fourth of july, and joel’s cookout is proving to lead to an interesting evening for the two of you. 12k words.

chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, rough sex, spanking, oral (m + f receiving), joel creams his jeans....., dirty talk, praise kink

a/n: i loooooove these fucking idiots!!!!!!!

The Fourth of July rolls around a few days later, and you wake up with a pit in your stomach that immediately follows you into the entirety of your morning. Your parents have been excited about it since Joel invited them to his cookout the other day. They have plans later on with some of your family here in Austin, but they decided to spend time at Joel’s for a while before going there. They’re just glad that they feel like they’re fitting in here in this new neighborhood, but meanwhile you want to throw up at the thought of interacting around him with this little secret of yours. You can’t deny that it also makes you feel a little bundle of desire tear through you when you think about sneaking around - stolen glances, grabbing at each other the second you get alone, the built up anticipation of the day spent around each other holding this in. It’s been working wonders on you just to think about, and despite Joel keeping you very satisfied lately, you find yourself craving more, sometimes needing to touch yourself when you two aren’t together just at the thought of him. Some things never change, you realize with a laugh, despite the fact that you’re getting what you wanted from him now. 

It doesn’t help that you haven’t been able to spend any time together the last few days, with Joel busy at work and getting things prepared for his party. Him and his crew even took a brief hiatus from everything at your parents house with the holiday, leaving the bathroom operational but needing its final touches. 

Joel has been texting you a bit for the last few days, but it’s weird to feel this distant from him, especially since the last night you spent together had been completely mind altering. The man had made you come six times, something you would have said was probably not possible before then. Having no direct contact with him since then, however, has set you a bit on edge, making you feel even more self conscious and anxious about seeing him later today in front of so many people. You just hope that there wasn’t anything that had happened that night that put him off of you.

You decide to try and ease some of your nerves and go for a swim, changing into a white bikini and grabbing a towel before heading out to the backyard. You made sure to grab a glass of iced coffee to sip on while you continue to wake up for the day. You dangle your feet for a while, trying to take steadying breaths as the still early sun beats down on you and sip on your coffee. You finally plunge yourself in, swimming a few laps around the pool to get some nervous energy out of you before pulling yourself onto an innertube and floating around aimlessly. You try to let the soft lapping of the water and gentle way you’re floating give you some peace of mind, but you’re worried about all of the people you might run into at Joel’s cookout. Are his friends going to be there? Family? Coworkers? All of these people in his life who know him well, but have no idea about you and the things you do together. The thought makes your stomach twist in equal anticipation and desire and the familiar ache of desire comes between your legs. You’re fighting it, feeling too lazy to get out of the pool just to rub one out, but it’s becoming hard to ignore. 

As if right on cue, Joel slides open his back door and comes outside, clearly ready to make preparations for the party today as he lugs out some extra folding chairs, and then tables with multiple trips. You smile to yourself that he hasn’t noticed you yet, and you can just watch him work, his muscles popping as he carries things out of the house and sets them up. You have the urge to run up to him, make him promise that he still wants you, but you quickly veto the idea from your worry-ridden brain. You’ll just play it cool, he’s allowed to be busy, after all. A pleasant hum escapes your lips at the sight of him continuing to work and you feel the ache between your legs you have been trying to ignore growing. 

Joel’s head does a double take in your direction, a shocked looking expression on his face at the way you’re casually floating through the pool, body on full display as you toy with the straw to your iced coffee with your tongue. Joel stands, staring at you for several moments before deciding to pull out his phone. You float over to the edge of the pool where you left yours, and sure enough, a message from him comes through a moment later. 

Joel: How long have you been watching me?

You: Long enough to get worked up

You see Joel practically groaning with a tight expression from across your two yards, a smug smile suddenly on your lips at his reaction. 

Joel: You know what happens when you tease me like this, sweet girl

You: Oh, I know. I’m counting on it happening

Joel looks up from his phone, his eyes lingering on you for a few long moments before he looks back down and begins typing furiously.

Joel: Extra punishment will be making you wait even longer for what you want from me. You’ve got to earn back being my good girl if you’re going to act like this

Now it’s your turn to groan, the wetness between your legs becoming more apparent with each message he sends and you squirm a little on the inner tube, your thighs rubbing and clamping together. The last time he made you earn that status, it ended up being the most fucking insane night you’ve ever spent with another man, and you’d be eager to repeat it again. Joel is watching your every move intently as he glances up from his phone. A moment later, your phone pings again. 

Joel: If you’re so worked up why don’t you go touch that little pussy and think of my cock inside of you while you come

You inhale a sharp breath as you read the message and your thighs squeeze even tighter. You almost don’t want to give him the satisfaction of rushing off to touch yourself, but the needy aching of your pussy is absolutely taking over right now. 

You: Why don’t you come and do it for me?

Joel: That’s for good girls, and as we both know, right now you aren’t one of them you little fucking tease

You see Joel warring with himself, but deciding not to come pleasure you seems to be his final decision. You sit and pout for a few moments before deciding if you’re going to be a bad girl for him today, you might as well keep it going. You plunge into the pool off of your floatie, dunking your head under. You surface and swim yourself to the edge of the pool, climbing out by the ladder. You tilt your head back slightly, exposing the length of your neck and dripping hair behind it, your bikini shifting on your body with the weight of the water. Your nipples are stiff from the chill of the pool and temperature change, and you know Joel can probably see them clear from over there. You wring your hair out and throw it causally back behind your shoulder, letting the glistening drops of water cascade all down your body. You shoot a biting glance to Joel, who is gripping the back of one of the folding chairs tightly, watching you. You smile sweetly, gathering your towel and phone before heading back into your apartment. 

Your phone buzzes as soon as you’re inside, of course, with another message from Joel. 

Joel: Can’t resist touching that perfect wet pussy because I told you to huh?

You: Would rather it be you… my door’s unlocked. 

You can feel the hesitation in his response, the bubbles popping up and disappearing several times before he answers. Your hand has already snaked into the wet fabric of your bikini bottoms, your fingers brushing against your clit as you let out a little moan. 

Joel: You’ve got to wait for what you really want and think about what a little tease you are. 

If he wants a tease, you’ll fucking show him a tease. You pull down your bottoms, standing half naked and stalking over to the window that overlooks Joel’s yard. You shoot him a quick message before bringing your hand back down in between your legs. 

You: You’re gonna wish you’d never called me a tease

Joel seems to take the hint, and you love that he knows you well enough to know that text meant to look up at the window. His jaw slackens a little at the sight of you in the distance, hand in between your legs, cupping yourself and then beginning to rub your finger on your clit again. You hear your phone going off as you get more into it, your fingers exploring lower as you sink one inside of yourself. You hope from this distance Joel can see the waves of pleasure crossing your face as you moan into the touch. Your phone pings again, and again, so you stop suddenly to look down at it.

Joel: Naughty girl… you’re going to regret that 

Joel: I know you only wish that was me right now, desperate little thing. You know it won’t be the same without my cock inside of you

The last message makes you laugh out loud, simply him typing “Fuck” and sending it to you. You open his contact info and dial his number, setting the phone back down and putting it on speaker. He answers silently, opting not to say anything right away as you step fully back into view of the window, watching him hold the phone up to his ear as he sits on a patio chair facing your window.

You pick up where you left off, rubbing circles on your clit as Joel watches on, and now you moan a little more loudly, making sure your phone picks it up. You swear you can hear Joel breathing heavily on the other end in between your own noises.

“Play with your tits, baby, let me see,” he spits out, seeming to break his vow of silence that was being used to punish you. You love that you’re unraveling him by the moment, and it turns you on even more, urging you along. You brush your hands along the curves of your breasts, playing with one of your nipples, through the thin material of your bikini top, causing your hips to buck forward a little bit as you groan.

“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” Joel murmurs. You see him discreetly cup himself on the front of his jeans, trying to soothe some of his own ache, and you smile deviously.

“Need something over there?” you breathe out as you slide your fingers down and start pushing one in and out of yourself.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he commands, ignoring your sass, and you know it’s killing him he can’t see you as clearly as he would like.

“I’m fucking myself with my finger,” you state plainly as you moan quietly when your thumb brushes your clit again.

“Just the one? I know you can take more than that, my filthy little girl,” Joel says with the hint of a smirk in his voice.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” you say defiantly, feeling bold with this much distance between you.

“But I do, baby. You told me that first night, you want me to take control, and I can see how much you fuckin’ love it when I order you around, tell you where to put your hands and when. How to move your body for me, when to come. Want to be an obedient little thing for me, don’t ya? Even when you act up like a little brat.”

Now you break out in a small sweat, knowing he’s right, having told him all of that yourself. You unleash a louder moan as his words echo through your mind and your finger moves quicker on your clit, your other hand still playing with your nipples.

“I do,” you breathe out, giving in to him embarrassingly easily.

“Good. Now put two more fingers in and fucking take it,” he says quietly, a lethal, low tone to his voice, and you shudder at the sound. You do as he says, whimpering a little at the sudden stretch, but he’s right, it feels amazing. “Well?” he says impatiently.

“F-feels so nice,” you mumble, lost in the pleasure, finding it hard to stay standing in front of the window as your knees want to buckle underneath you.

“Good girl,” he says, and you light up a little at the words, wondering if you’ve earned them back. “Just for now,” he coos, “I have a few more things in mind to teach you a lesson.” 

Just the thought of what those ideas could be is enough to send you over the edge, and you start coming onto your hand, plunging the three fingers deep into yourself and hitting your g-spot. You moan loudly, and through hooded eyes and can see Joel’s tense form sitting down below, watching you squirm and writhe as you ride the waves of pleasure from your climax.

“Mmm,” you hear him breathe out through the phone, not taking his eyes off of you.

“You missed out,” you say with a little laugh, your breathing still coming down from the pure bliss of the previous moment.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Joel confirms.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Good. Can’t wait to get my mouth on ya,” he says. You shudder a little, the aftershocks of your climax still present and you feel a dull ache rising back up at his words.

“Don’t you have something you need to take care of?” you say suddenly, seeing his hand still resting on his likely throbbing crotch.

Joel grunts disapprovingly, but doesn’t deny it. “Smart ass,” he teases, and you laugh.

“See you later, Joel,” you say, before hanging up, hoping to leave him wanting. It doesn’t take him long to get out of the chair and head inside, where you know he’s going to jerk himself off to the thought of what he just watched you do. It spreads a warm little feeling throughout your chest as you smile to yourself, moving from the window to get ready for the day.

Your confidence from this morning has all but faded as you check yourself in the mirror one more time before having to leave for Joel’s cookout. You suddenly hate every piece of clothing you own, feeling less confident than ever around him. Maybe it’s because you know that he can’t pay attention to you in the way you’re used to, and you’re worried about how others there are going to view you. You swear you never used to be this socially anxious, right? Or maybe nobody had brought it out of you like this before.

You decided on a plain white mini dress, thinking it’s simple and classic, and it shows off enough of your legs and curves that you think Joel will enjoy getting an eyeful of you and have to deal with resisting you for hours. You spent a little more time on your hair to get it into pretty, loose waves that you’ve clipped half back. Your makeup was an effort, but you managed to get something you’re proud of, a fresh, clean look with a little dark eyeliner and mascara, a slight bit of shimmer on your eyelids, and a touch of blush and pink lip gloss. You do feel pretty, you think as you tilt your head at yourself in the mirror, it’s just important to you that Joel thinks so too.

You breathe out a final breath before meeting your parents in their house to head over together. Your mom fawns over your outfit and hair for a few moments while you feel flushed with heat uncomfortably thinking if she only knew the half of it she wouldn’t be so excited about it. Your mom and you keep a close eye on your dad as he makes his way over to Joel’s on his crutches, but luckily it’s a short distance and he’s been getting quite good at using them lately. You swallow hard as you see the party is in full swing, and Joel looks like he’s having a great time, chatting amicably with a group of people somewhere within his age group. When he sees you and your parents approaching, he smiles, breaking away from the conversation to greet you three. He goes to greet your parents first, thanking them for coming, but you can see his eyes linger on you several times throughout their conversation, taking in your dress as flickers of heat flash in his eyes a few times. You know it was quick enough that only you’d notice, but it doesn’t mean you don’t little feel a little rush at the sight. He finally greets you casually with a wave and words of gratitude for coming by, and it’s a struggle to keep your tone neutral as you reply to him.

He invites you inside to grab something to drink, and you agree, telling your parents you’ll grab them something as well. You breathe out a small sigh of relief when you see his kitchen is mostly empty, aside from a few folks grabbing plates of food from the counter and bringing them outside.

“Nice dress,” he says, maybe the most quiet you’ve ever heard him. You inhale sharply, just the change in his tone from the way it was outside enough to set you off. You let a smile peek out the side of your mouth.

“Wore this with you in mind,” you say, trying to be just as quiet as you two open the fridge and look inside. 

“There’s more options outside in the coolers, if ya want,” he tells you, and you turn towards him, locking eyes fully for the first time since you arrived. And… you’re melting. You force yourself to get it together quickly, snagging three beers from the fridge and holding them against your body. It honestly feels good to have the cool sweat of the cans pressing against you, grounding you to the present instead of wherever your mind was trying to take you with Joel.

“This is good,” you say, smiling up at him. The look he gives you is absolutely devastating, a sly little smile like he knows you, he wants you, he’d rather stay alone in this room with you all night. You try to return the look as best you can before you two have to head back outside. His hand brushes along your lower back down to your ass as he walks behind you, his fingers trailing there for just a moment before he splits away from you when the door to the patio opens. You force yourself to breathe out a long, calming exhale and locate your parents.

You hand the drinks to them and have a seat at their table. They’ve already gotten into a conversation with another neighbor, and you’re glad they’re getting to know other folks in the neighborhood. You’re not actively participating in the conversation, or even fully listening, but you’re trying your best not to be rude and speak up here and there when it calls for it. You’re too busy keeping tabs on Joel, feeling like a complete psycho as you do it, but your mind isn’t able to focus on much else.

He’s over at the grill, cooking up steaks, burgers and brats for everyone. Everything, all the meats, sides, and snacks smell and look amazing, but once again, you find yourself distracted as you watch Joel’s broad shoulders and muscled back working over at the grill. You can help but notice a beautiful woman at his side, holding onto a plastic cup and laughing as she chats animatedly with Joel. Something twists deep in your gut, and you immediately hate yourself for it. It’s a primal, sickening feeling borne completely out of jealousy, you know, and you take a large swig of your beer to try and drown it out into the background of your thoughts. 

Of course Joel is going to have beautiful women talking to him. You can’t expect that you’re the only one he’d want to fuck around with when he looks like that and could easily pull another woman anytime he wanted. He’s sweet, charming, and attractive, so it makes sense that he would be getting this kind of attention. It doesn’t mean you have to like it, though, you think, drinking your beer more quickly now. You want to slow down, but you suddenly think that maybe alcohol will help calm the intense surge of jealousy and anxiety that’s tearing through you right now. You know he said just last week that he had only been thinking about messing around with you lately, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t and won’t change his mind, and you hate the thought of that. 

You know that your eyes are glued to him, and to the observant person you must look slightly obsessive with the way you’re stare at him. Joel and the mystery woman are still chatting, and he seems happy, which you want for him, but it still causes a sinking feeling to pass through you. Suddenly, Joel’s head turns in your direction when the woman is distracted by another party goer joining their conversation. His eyes catch yours but you quickly look away, gripping onto the cold can of beer in your hand. But you know he saw you staring daggers into his back. You flick your eyes back up to his face, where he’s giving you a wry expression, as if he’s been reading your thoughts for the last few minutes. You try to give him a smile but it comes out weak, not reaching your eyes. He dares a quick wink at you and suddenly your chest is rising with warmth again, this little bit of attention enough to begin busting you out of the dark jealousy that was overwhelming you.

You take a deep breath, your eyes catching on a familiar face across the patio. You excuse yourself from your parents and walk over, smiling shyly. 

“Hey, Tommy,” you say.

“Hey there,” he replies, returning your smile. “How you been?” You forgot just how warm and kind his presence is, a lifeline to you at this party full of strangers. 

“Oh, not too bad,” you say, but you know the reason you came over isn’t to exchange pleasantries. “Listen, um, I just wanted to apologize for the last time we met, that was super… well, awkward,” you admit, casting your eyes on and off the ground as you try to get out what you need to say. 

“Aw, hey, no worries. I know you weren’t trying to make things uncomfortable. My brother can make an ass of himself sometimes,” Tommy says with a smile.

“I think I egged him on, so don’t go too hard on him,” you admit, twisting your lips to the side. Tommy eyes you with a slight look of questioning but doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

“Probably shouldn’t say this, but I’ve never seen my brother so in his head about someone before,” Tommy says suddenly with a thoughtful expression, and you feel your stomach bottom out as a nervous churning overtakes you. 

“What?” you manage to stutter out, unable to think of anything else to say. Your mind is reeling with too many sudden thoughts, and it’s hard to keep yourself present. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anythin’,” he concludes. 

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t know what you meant. I think you’ve got to be misreading things.”

Now it’s Tommy’s turn to look taken aback. “Misreading things? Sweetheart, no offense, but I nearly caught you and my brother about to jump each other's bones.”

You laugh lightheartedly at his response, and he smiles. “I just mean about him being in his head. I think I’m just… stress relief, or something,” you say with a slight cringe. You don’t know how you’ve ended up admitting even more to Joel’s brother about the nature of your relationship, yet here you are. 

“I see, so you two haven’t stopped things, then,” Tommy replies a little more seriously. 

“Maybe it’s my turn to not have said anything,” you grimace, feeling like you’ve overstepped. 

“S‘alright. I had a feeling, anyway.” He shrugs, taking a sip from the cup in his hands. 

“We aren’t really telling anyone about it, if you could… y’know. Sorry to put you in a weird spot.” You look at Tommy with a hopeful and apologetic expression, feeling completely uncomfortable with your request to him.

“I got you. It’s alright. I just want you to be careful, is all. I’ll handle things with my brother, you shouldn’t have to be in the middle of all this.” Tommy replies. You wonder what he means about being careful, but you don’t know if you can handle inserting Tommy into this situation any longer. 

You nod slightly. “Thanks,” you say, and then decide to change the subject. “Are you enjoying the party? This is really nice.”

Tommy looks appreciative for the more normal conversation and nods. “Yeah, every year it’s always a good time. I like seein’ everyone gathered together like this.”

“It’s nice, although I know literally nobody here,” you chuckle. 

Tommy looks out at the crowd of people enjoying themselves with you. “Want any introductions?”

“Oh, god, no. I think I might be too shy for that.”

Tommy lifts an eyebrow at you. “Lemme know if you change your mind.”

“Actually,” you spit out quickly, “Not an introduction, but, uh, who’s that? With the blonde hair over there?” you ask, nodding your head in the direction of the woman who’d been talking with Joel. 

Tommy’s expression becomes even more suspicious, and he looks you in the eyes, a gleaming hint of amusement behind them. 

“Old friend, why?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“Just wondering. She’s very… uh…” you trail off, feeling like shrinking up into yourself and never coming out again. Tommy laughs good naturedly at your pained expression. 

“Do yourself a favor and just enjoy the party. No use worrying about what my brother’s up to, eh?” Tommy says, his tone lightening with encouragement towards you.

“That’s probably good advice,” you respond, pondering for a few beats. “Thanks, for being so kind to me when you don’t have to be.”

“You’ve done nothin’ to warrant anything other than that, alright? I ain’t mad at ya,” Tommy tells you with a quick squeeze on your shoulder. You smile, and then Tommy gets called out by another guest at the party, so he kindly excuses himself to speak to them.

You stand alone now, crinkling the sides of your now empty beer can. You glance over at your parents, having what looks like the time of their lives with all their neighbors, engaged in a fun conversation that you don’t have the energy to be a part of right now. You see Joel, finishing up everything on the grill, encouraging the people around him to make plates. You feel completely lost suddenly, like you don’t know where to go, who to sit next to, if you would choke on your words if you tried to talk to one of the many strangers surrounding you. 

Fuck, you think, as you slip the few steps behind you to the sliding door, opening it and stepping inside. You go to the fridge, pulling out another beer and cracking it open, taking long, drawn out swigs until it’s half empty. You catch eyes with someone coming back from using the restroom and give them a shy smile, which they return. You breathe out a shaky exhale and stand with your back leaning against the counter, grateful for a few quiet moments to yourself. 

This is ridiculous, you think to yourself. You have always been alright in groups, able to at least introduce yourself despite having been rather shy your whole life. Seeing Joel with that beautiful woman really got in your head more than you would have expected, and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t approach him at all, like the last few weeks together have been completely erased. You finish your second beer, immediately going for a third and deciding you have enough liquid courage to head outside. You see Joel’s eyes catch your entrance, a quick flash of disappointment he didn’t get a chance to see you when you were alone inside. 

You continue into the party, grabbing an empty paper plate and filling it with food. You feel that last beer you quickly drank settling and a slight tipsy haze coming over you, making you feel a bit more brave than you were before. You sit at a table with your now full plate, complete strangers at every seat, but they look kindly at you as you sit. 

“Is this alright?” you ask them. Most of them nod enthusiastically, saying muddled greetings to you that are overlapping as they all talk at once. One of them, a woman with dark brown hair and kind green eyes smiles at you. 

“Haven’t seen you at one of these before,” she comments, taking a bite from her own plate of food. 

“My parents live next door. They just moved in this summer,” you announce. “How do you know Joel?” you casually ask, looking around the table to invite anyone there into the conversation. 

Several of them reply that they work with, or rather for, Joel, but it seems like a casual relationship, that they’re all very friendly outside of work. The woman who greeted you also works for Joel, and you can see it now, her rough hands and strong body are definitely someone who does physical labor for a living. 

“Is he a mean boss?” you ask with a hint of teasing in your voice, and they laugh. You spot Joel out of the corner of your eye when the laughter sounding from the table catches his attention, and it makes you want to smile smugly that you’re now a distraction for him too. 

“No way, not at all,” one of the guys answers with a shake of his head. “Tough, but fair,” he concludes. You could see that in him, that he doesn't take bullshit, and as long as you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing on the job, he’d be happy. You feel a strong hand grip your shoulder, the way the fingers curl around it is familiar and you fight the urge to shudder down your entire spine. You know before turning your head who you’re about to see, but the stunning form of Joel above you as you sit still threatens to pull the air from your lungs. He’s slightly red cheeked from laughter and the heat of the grill, his hair causally messy, and his navy blue shirt clinging to him. 

“Don’t tell me they’re all talkin’ about me,” Joel says to you, removing his hand before it’s there too long for anyone to grow suspicious. You all smile and chuckle, several of his employees denying it but smirking light heartedly. “Whatever it is, I probably deserve it.” 

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” a new voice says, and you peer away from Joel, turning your head to see the woman who’d been chatting with Joel earlier standing across from you. Her elegant, perfectly manicured fingers are holding her cup as she takes a drink, and she’s even more beautiful up close. Her hair is short, blonde and pin straight, shiny as the sun catches it. Her red t-shirt and jean shorts show off her curves and tall legs. You immediately shy away from the conversation, just taking her in for a moment while everyone starts jokingly poking fun at Joel. You try to laugh along, staying with the conversation. It’s not like the woman is looking at Joel in any particular way that bothers you, in fact, she just seems perfectly friendly towards him. The hints of flirtation are in the way she sometimes watches him for a few extra seconds, always seeming to be laughing around him. And if they were together in some form, is that really something you can be upset about? Joel has never expressed having feelings deeper for you than physical ones, so you have no right, no claim to him as yours, really.

“I’m Lexi,” she says, looking at you. Her voice is sweet but smoky, and you suddenly wish your own voice didn’t have to follow it up. “I don’t think I’ve met you before, right?”

You shake your head and introduce yourself, trying to project your voice despite feeling like shrinking up. You explain to her about your parents moving in next door, and she replies enthusiastically. You genuinely don’t know how you’re getting words out, how you’re carrying a conversation with her. You’re getting that overwhelmed feeling again, like you don’t know what to do with all of the emotion you carry for Joel. It’s painful to think about, picturing him and that woman together, him doing the toe-curling, life changing things that he does to you to her instead. You’re already halfway through this next beer too, and it’s not helping with your unsettled stomach now as jealousy and confusion curdle it. 

“Did everyone get enough to eat?” Joel asks, acting as ever the good host, and his voice cuts into your introspection. Most people murmur affirmative responses, claims of how good everything is, and expressions of gratitude.

“I was actually going to get some of that fruit salad, I totally forgot,” you announce, trying hard not to slur your words as you find the perfect out of the situation. Joel steps back slightly from where he was standing behind your chair and lets you out. You refuse to make eye contact with him, afraid he could read you in a second, but you quickly grin at everyone at the table before stepping off, trying to rush away as casually as possible. 

You make it back inside, the cool air a balm to your skin and current emotional state. A few people mill around and you breeze past them, finding your way down the hall. Instead of holing up in the bathroom and blocking people from using it, you explore further down, cracking open a closed door at the end of the small hallway. Sure, it’s not completely moral to snoop, but you just need somewhere you can be alone right now. You peer inside, slipping in and shutting the door quietly behind you before breathing out, long and slow - this is much better. 

It looks like you’re in Joel’s office, a rather small room but it seems to get the job done. There’s a dark wooden desk with his computer on it, piles of paper, folders and typical office supplies adorn the top of it. He has a filing cabinet underneath the desk to one side, and a small seating area on the other wall with two comfortable looking leather chairs. You head over to one of those, sinking yourself down into it and pulling out your phone to distract yourself. You managed to remember your beer, you notice as your other hand still grips the can, so you finish it, willing your brain to just give in to the tipsiness and forget all the stupid, shitty thoughts you’re having right now. 

The door opens a few minutes later and you jump at the sound of the doorknob turning. Your mouth is already open, ready to spill out some excuse to whoever is walking in, but instead, you say nothing as Joel comes into the room, closing the door behind him. He approaches you slowly, purposefully, with a tense look in his eye. 

“Now what’s my girl doing hidin’ out in here, hm?” he asks. 

“I… needed a minute,” you say, unable to think clearly at the sight of him after being three beers deep in a relatively short time span. 

“Hmm,” Joel says, approaching the chair and standing there directly in front of your legs, looking down on you. You suddenly salivate, feeling your insides burning with the desire to taste him, to pleasure him, to make sure he knows how good you’ll be for him so he doesn’t forget you in lieu of some other beautiful woman. “You still need a minute, or should I stay?” he asks, and you know he knows there’s only one answer to that question. 

Instead of saying anything, you reach forward to his waist, undoing his belt while you peer your eyes up at him, blinking slowly and pouting your lips. He stands silently, letting you work on his belt and you reach for the button and zipper of his jeans. His eyebrow cocks a little when the zipper goes down and you inhale sharply at the throbbing bulge against the fabric of his briefs. 

“Baby, if you’re upset or jealous, you can tell me. I saw you watchin’ me all day,” he suddenly says, and you stop, your hand resting on the waistband of his briefs. You feel vulnerable and transparent all of a sudden, realizing that he’s noticed it that much. 

“I’m… not,” you say, completely unconvincingly. 

“My only question, baby, is why?” Joel says sternly, gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to keep looking up at him. “Why be jealous when your sweet little cunt is all I want wrapped around my cock, and I keep comin’ back for more no matter how hard I try not to. What’s there to be jealous about when all of that’s so obvious?” He shakes his head slowly, looking at you with a mixture of softness and frustration on his face.

You stun at his words. “I - I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m… there are a lot of pretty women. I just want to show you -“ you stop, gulping heavily and trying to avoid his eyes. “Show you…” you trail off, reaching into his briefs and pulling his hard cock out. The length of it slips free, reminding you just how deliciously big he is. You lick your lips at the sight, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say when your words are failing you. 

Joel’s head tilts and he slides the hand on your chin around to the back of your head, gripping tightly. “If you won’t listen to me, then I’ll just have to fuck those jealous words right out of your pretty little mouth, won’t I?”

Your lips part slightly in shock but you nod, dipping your eyes to his cock and biting your lip. 

“On your knees, sweetheart,” Joel says, and you quickly slide off the chair, landing softly on your knees with your head perfectly positioned in front of his hips. He pulls out your hair clip, letting the half of your hair free that was pinned up. He splays his hand onto the back of your head now, holding it still while his hips thrust forward, the head of his cock brushing your lips. You open them and he slides in, just moving the head slightly in and out. “Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he groans quietly as the wetness of your mouth envelops him. 

His hips move more aggressively now, holding true on his promise to practically fuck the words out of your mouth as he suddenly pushes in to the back of your throat, threatening to gag you. It feels good, almost like he is able to fuck those thoughts out of your head if you can just take his cock as deep as he wants you to. You’re desperate to be his number one, the only one he wants to spend time with like this, and you suck hard on him as he pulls out, eliciting a loud groan until he pushes back in as far as he can again. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, angel, look at you…” Joel breathes out, watching his hips push his length into your mouth over and over as his hand holds your head steady. “Takin’ my cock so good when you’re jealous, huh?”

You let out a tiny moan of affirmation, the vibration of your mouth on him making him shudder slightly. He’s now pushing your head in towards him with his thrusts, his own head tilting back as his eyes flutter slightly as he goes deep. You gag, spit drooling out all around his cock, and it urges Joel on further as he doesn’t let up. 

“That’s right, you’ll never say another jealous word again, will you? Gonna believe what I say? Gonna be a good girl and let me praise you and worship that perfect pussy without any questions?” he drawls out, his voice full of heady desire and grit. Your pussy pulses and throbs at his words and the feel of his thick cock in your mouth.

You can only make a noise you hope Joel will take as a yes from you. You feel like you should hate what he’s saying - the possessive, condescending tone behind it all, but you fucking love it, and you know Joel does too. Maybe you two are made for each other in this way - someone only seeking to be praised and dominated, and the other more than willing to give that to them. It’s no secret just how much he loves turning you into a sloppy, begging mess for him, and you’ve learned that you’re happy to let him whenever he wants it. 

“Fuck, baby,” he blurts out, “Look at you, fuckin’ love suckin’ cock, don’t you? Bet you thought about it all day, I know I missed your lips wrapped around me. All I could think about watching you in that little dress,” he hums, steadily continuing his thrusts into you. They’re turning more ragged, his body trembling slightly from the pleasure. He whimpers as you flex your tongue to flick down the length of him as he is pulling back before plunging it in and rapidly repeating the movements. 

He moans, a breathy noise coming out of him and he pulls out quickly, fisting his cock with his free hand and aiming it for your chest. You lurch forward, frowning as your mouth misses the fullness of him immediately. 

“Only comin’ in you once you’ve earned it back. You’ve been a bad girl today, remember?” He smirks as he pumps on his cock several more times before groaning, the ropes of cum releasing onto your neck and chest. It drips immediately between your breasts, sliding down into your dress. He watches it intently, the sight of his cum slowly working its way down your tits while you gaze up at him with desperate eyes threatening to turn him on all over again. “If you want a taste, it’s right there,” he says with a smug grin that you want to kiss off of his face.

“So unfair,” you whine, slumping down further onto the floor, giving your knees a rest. 

“Deal’s a deal, baby,” Joel says, tucking himself back into his jeans and refastening everything. “Maybe you won’t be such a little tease next time.” He winks at you before lifting an eyebrow. 

You gape your mouth open, unable to find a good enough retort for him. Joel hands you a tissue off the box on his desk and you wipe yourself up, and you’re feeling thankful that you wore white today. Joel reaches out a hand and pulls you up, tucking you in under his arms for several moments. He breathes in deeply, taking in your scent before sighing. 

“Can’t stay in here forever,” he says to you, pulling back a little bit. The look of disappointment on his face matches exactly how you’re feeling right now. 

“I know,” you reply, frowning. “You go first, and I’ll come out in a few minutes.” He nods and lets go of your waist, his presence immediately missed by your body.

“Oh,” Joel says, stopping halfway to the door, “After everyone goes home, you wanna come out with me to watch some fireworks?” Joel asks, and the stark contrast to the man he was a few minutes ago is jarring. A smile tugs at your lips and you let it show completely, not caring about playing it cool right now. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Your parents went to spend the second half of the day with your mom’s brother and his family, having gotten an invite to watch fireworks as a group. You made up the lousiest excuse that you just weren’t feeling up for it after Joel’s party, but it worked well enough.

You meet Joel outside close to dark and climb into his truck. He risks a small kiss on your lips once you two are settled in the car, and you glance around afterwards to see if anyone could’ve seen it. You’re not sure what you’d even do if someone did see, but you’ve been feeling the compulsion to check anyway since you two agreed to sneak around.

Joel drives off, glancing over at you every so often with a soft look in his eyes. 

“You took the dress off,” he comments into the silence. 

“There was, well, cum on it, so…” you say plainly, and Joel lets out a loose chuckle that takes several moments to subside. 

“Fair enough, baby. S’okay, I almost like this better anyways,” he says, sneaking another look at you before focusing back on the road. You changed into tight spandex shorts and a little crop top, throwing on an oversized, comfortable zip up jacket over it in case it got cool once the sun went down. 

“You say that about everything I wear,” you counteract. 

“Cause I like everything you wear,” Joel shrugs. “You look good in anythin’ darlin’.”

You bite the inside of your lip as a half smile pulls at the corner of your mouth at his sweet words.

“Did you have fun today?” Joel asks. 

“I… did. I think you threw a great party, really. It was just a lot for me with all the new people and not being able just - to kiss you when I wanted,” you admit. 

“I hear ya, that was tough. Maybe no parties for a while,” he says, and you chuckle a little. 

“Didn’t know you were so popular, though,” you tease, waggling your eyebrows when Joel shoots you a skeptical glance. 

“Not true,” he retorts. 

“Is so. Everyone there loves you, Joel, accept it,” you say defiantly. Your arms cross over your chest, willing him to understand just how great he is and how admired he seemed by everyone you talked to that day. You’d gone back and socialized a bit more after Joel’s visit with you in his office, and you’d learned a little bit more about what Joel is like as a friend, a coworker, a boss. Most of their stories conclude for you that sure, Joel can be very grumpy in the wrong situation, but at the core of all of it, he cares deeply. 

“Here we are,” he says, pulling the car up to the side of the road and veering off onto a less defined patch of road. Joel drives for just a little longer until he pulls up to a grassy hillside, parking the car. You two are the only ones here, and the stars are starting to twinkle overhead as you gaze out the top of the windshield. 

“Wh- what is this?” you ask. 

“Used to come ‘round here all the time when we were younger. It’s the perfect spot for fireworks, trust me,” he tells you. You’re glad it’s just the two of you here after the long day you spent wanting to be in his arms. Joel seems to share the same sentiment, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning over the console to you and wrapping his hand around the side of your face, crashing his lips into yours. 

He opens the bed of his truck for you two to sit in and wait for fireworks to start. He props a few pillows along the back of the truck and lays a blanket out to sit on before you climb in behind him and settle in. 

“So you’d come here as a kid? You really have lived around here your whole life, huh?” you ask him. 

“Yeah, Tommy and I’d go crazy on the sparklers right over there,” he says, his eyes staring off distantly as he recalls memories. “One of the only times my parents didn’t fight, weirdly,” he adds, and your eyes widen before you control your expression, your interest piqued at his talk of the past. 

“Your parents didn’t get along?”

“Nope, not a lick of good blood between them by the end of it all,” Joel replies with a shake of his head. “She’s remarried now, though, for a long time and it's goin’ real well for her now.”

“Your dad… instigated the fights?” you ask hesitantly.

Joel nods. “Mhm. Mean guy, real tough, didn’t know what to do with himself so he’d take it out on all of us. Yellin’, fightin��… Only hit my mom once, and that when she had enough. Thankfully…”

“Wow… that must have been terrible. I’m so sorry, Joel,” you say quietly, snuggling up next to him to show your support. He lifts an arm and puts it around you, and you tuck yourself into your favorite spot under his shoulder, rubbing circles on his chest with the palm of your hand. 

“Thanks, sweetheart. Wasn’t always easy, but Tommy and I, we tried to take care of things for our mom. He and I get our fightin’ with each other from our dad, and we fuckin’ hate it,” he chuckles, and you feel one side of your lips turn up in a smile. 

“Seems like you guys have a good relationship, though, most of the time, right?”

“Yeah, we do. Couldn’t run a business with just anyone,” he replies. You nod in agreement, and dare to ask the question on your mind. 

“Your dad? What… er, do you still see him?”

“Used to for a while. He died about 4 years ago, though. Drank too much, didn’t take care of himself, the works,” Joel replies solemnly, still staring off into the darkness. 

“Jeez, that’s just… awful. I’m sorry, again, Joel. I know I keep saying it, but there’s not much else to encompass something like that, y’know?” you say, blinking hard and shaking your head. 

“Oh I know, darlin’, thanks for just listenin’ to me. You’re a good listener,” he replies, now pulling his eyes off their unfocused stare to look down at you and smile. 

“You’re welcome. I love hearing more about you, so it’s easy.”

“Alright, your turn,” Joel says playfully, nudging you. 

“My turn what?” you ask, laughing a little. 

“What’s the deal with your life story?” Joel says openly, looking at you with expectation.

“My life story? Jesus Joel, can’t we get a focused topic?” you reply with sass. 

“Alright, fair point. Your parents seem like good people, doesn’t seem to be much of a story there, but correct me if I’m wrong?”

“No, not really, actually,” you ponder with a chuckle. “They’re very cute and in love most of the time so it kind of gave me this expectation that I’d meet someone and have that same thing super young like they did. But it just hasn’t happened like that.”

“Hasn’t happened, but you wanted it to? Marry someone young?” Joel questions you with a quirked brow.

“Nah, I’m glad I wasn't married in my early twenties like them, after all. I just assumed as a kid that’s how it would be because of them, but honestly I’m glad to have just been able to go to school and everything, get my life sorted out a bit.”

“Makes sense. And personally I’m very glad you weren’t already snatched up and married to some guy,” Joel says lightheartedly, poking you in the side and prompting you to laugh. 

“Promise I won’t get jealous, but tell me about the other guys you’ve seen,” Joel says a moment later, and you shoot him a skeptical look. “Alright, I’ll try not to get jealous,” he adds on, a more realistic proposition.

“I don’t think there’s really much to tell…” You think for a moment, piecing together your memories into a cohesive story. “I saw someone for a few months in college, he cheated on me, so I swore off dating for a while before meeting Will, and he was nice but it didn’t last. A few random hookups followed that, and that’s really it. Nothing… excited me enough to stick it out,” you conclude, then look up at Joel, seeing his eyes intently looking into yours. “Until you,” you add timidly, but not shying your gaze away. 

“Until me, huh?” Joel says cockily, tilting his head. “These other guys… what was wrong with ‘em that wasn’t exciting?”

“I don’t know, it was a decent connection, but I never knew the depths of what I really wanted until you showed me. That sounds fucking corny, but whatever. You taught me a lot of stuff,” you admit, your cheeks burning a little bit. 

“I like teachin’ you what you like, baby,” Joel says, leaning dangerously close to you now, his lips looking so inviting. “My good girl, learned so fast, didn’t you?” he teases. You arch your hips up a little, responding to his words and nod. 

“Nobody else called me that before,” you breathe out as your lips brush each other’s. “Or fucked me like you do. Didn’t make me come until I want to cry, or make me a begging slut for them. Only you, Joel, only you could do that to me,” you rasp, your hips completely turned towards him now, pressing yourself into his thigh. His smirk is downright devious as he soaks in the words you’re saying and feels you grinding against him slightly. 

“Think you’ve earned something from me for sayin’ all that, sweet girl,” he says, his tone dropping slightly with suggestion. You raise your eyebrows at him with a grin.

“You think so?” you ask brightly, eyes already glazing over with desire.

“Boostin’ my ego like that, least I could do,” he says, teasing you before shifting himself to straddle your hips. Your body immediately responds to the closeness of him, your hips adjusting and grinding up into his weight. Joel’s lips find yours and it only takes moments before he turns more feral, your tongues sliding against each other, lips clashing and sucking on one another’s in a hungry heat. Joel takes your neck against his lips and kisses it, his tongue flicking along the skin and sending you moaning. He threatens to suck the skin and leave another mark, but he stops suddenly.

“I’ll show a little mercy tonight,” he says, glancing at you with a wink. 

“No, only in that one spot, that’s it,” you breathe out desperately, chest already heaving from the passion of the moment.

“Don’t want any mercy, huh?” He starts grinning in the greedy way he does when he likes what he’s hearing from you. You shake your head, ready for whatever he’s going to throw your way in the bed of his truck. This will definitely be a first for you. “Naughty girl…” he murmurs before continuing to give the skin on your neck attention, ghosting his lips down to your collarbone and upper chest, but finding your clothing in the way, he slides your zip up off your shoulders and you help him shrug you out of it before he tugs at the bottom of your shirt and pulls that over your head as well. You settle down further onto the makeshift bed Joel made for you two, laying more flat on your back now against the pillow.

Joel takes in your half naked body for a few extra moments with a glint in his eye before diving back in, biting your skin and leaving you practically breathless as the small sucks and bites pepper over your skin, getting closer to your breasts. When he finally reaches your nipple, you’re already feeling so much anticipation that the moan you let slip out is louder than you’d have expected. Joel’s groan against your skin in response only urges you on, loving the way he loves hearing what he does to you.

He then bites onto your nipple hard, a completely new sensation for you, and you yelp a little bit but it trails off into another moan as the pain quickly turns into pleasure.

“Said you wanted no mercy, so what’ll it be, hm?” Joel counters, seeing how you’d tensed and yelled out at his biting.

“No, no, it’s good - more, Joel,” you hastily breathe, toes curled and body tense.

He pauses with his mouth above your breast, looking at you expectantly.

“Please,” you add on as a whisper, recalling what seems like one of his favorite rules. The smirk returns to his face and he slides a hand along your thigh, edging close to the apex as he bites again on your nipple. You cry out, your hips desperately pushing towards his hand, willing it to go where you need it to be. The heat swelling up in your core and between your legs is starting to reach the needy category when he continues working on both of your nipples, flicking and biting them for what feels like ages, getting you to a fever pitch of need before his fingers finally clutch onto the edges of your shorts, tugging them down. He has to lift his head off of you, and you breathe a small sigh of contented relief, your body needing the cooldown for a moment as he works your shorts off of you.

“You always wear all this stuff just for me, sweet girl?” Joel asks, bemused, as he gazes at your underwear - a pretty dark purple sheer thong.

“Of course,” you reply, breath hitching as his fingers play under the side straps of it, tempting you. “I know you like it, seeing me dress up for you,” you say with a small smile.

“That I do baby, knowin’ our little secret - you always wearin’ your little outfits just for me,” he says with a quiet tut, sliding the thong down your legs now and revealing your sex to him. It’s dark, but Joel can still see well enough to notice just how wet and swollen you already are for him, as usual. He groans as he slides two fingers inside of you, testing just how ready you are for him and feeling the warm, tightness of your cunt around his digits. 

“Fuckin’ never could get old, darlin’, this pretty little pussy of yours,” he pushes out, his voice wavering slightly with need. You simply moan quietly in response and he slides his fingers in and out a few times before holding them up and seeing your slickness coating his fingers. A fully cunning little smile pulls at his lips before touching his fingers to your lips, pressing you to taste yourself on his digits.

“Don’t make me ask,” he warns you, and you’re half tempted to ignore him to get one of his special punishments that you love, but you decide to drive him crazy by pulling the fingers deep into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around it. Your eyes are locked on each other’s, and his grin only deepens into something primal as he feels your warm mouth surround his fingers, lapping up every bit of your own wetness from them. He pulls them out with a slight pop and looks at you intently.

“Your turn,” he says suddenly, a look of expectation crossing his face.

“W-what do you mean?” you ask timidly, your body trembling slightly with the anticipation of Joel’s next touch.

“I wanna taste you,” he states plainly, and you wrinkle your brow, slightly confused.

“You could do that, easily. Put your mouth down there,” you suggest with raised eyebrows, and he gives a suggestive chuckle in response, then shakes his head slowly.

“No, sweetheart. Not until you do as I ask, and I know you want my mouth on that gorgeous little pussy, so I suggest you do it. Feed me with your fingers.”

Your mouth gapes slightly open for a moment before you bite your lip. You slowly trail your hand down your stomach, Joel’s eyes watching every torturous inch it moves, and you hesitantly dip your hand between your legs, finding your opening. Christ, you’re insanely wet. Not that it’s anything new, every second you spend around this man seems to put you in the craziest state of arousal, but it still surprises you sometimes just how little he has to do to get you to be a weeping, sloppy mess for him.

“Go on,” he says sternly, watching your fingers pause. You continue, sliding a finger inside of yourself, your hips moving slightly into the sensation. Joel lets out a small grunt of appreciation as he watches you slowly finger yourself. You lift your now slick finger out from between your legs, offering it up to him, and he grabs your wrist zealously, guiding your finger to his lips. He slowly sucks in on your finger, savoring every second as his eyes shadow with desire while they look deep into yours. You inhale softly, the feeling of his mouth on your finger so intense right now with how turned on you are. Joel doesn’t seem to be getting enough, because he swipes two of his fingers through your folds before pumping them hard into your cunt and bringing them to his own mouth, adding them in along with your finger. He pulls his head back, eyes rolling slightly, dragging his tongue along your and his finger before pulling them all out.

“Fuck, can’t get enough,” he sighs, lightly lapping at the pad of your finger as he still holds your wrist. You’re squirming, your hips moving uncomfortably with the desire steadily building in between your thighs. “You want me to stick my tongue inside of you, sweet girl, hm? Play with your little clit until you’re moanin’?” he says teasingly. You nod, a small whimper coming out of your mouth at his proposition, desperate for him to do what he’s saying now.

“You’ve been good,” he says, hand now stroking your thigh. “Now keep it up, put your hands on the side of the truck over there for me,” he commands, and you blink for a moment before scrambling up, moving over enough to get to the side of the truck. You grip the frame with your hands, standing on the truck bed with your ass protruding while awaiting Joel’s next move. He scoots over to you, nudging your legs further apart with his hands as he grabs at your ass, smirking to himself. He lowers his body, getting on his knees so that his face is behind you, immediately putting it between your legs and licking a strip down your pussy, landing a soft flick over your clit. 

“F-fuck,” you stammer out immediately with a stifled moan, your hips spasming down into his mouth.

“Oh, pretty girl, can’t have you get too excited yet, need to taste you till I’m satisfied,” Joel says, moving his mouth off of you briefly. You try to quiet down so he’ll keep going, and he dives back in between your legs, feasting on you from behind. You groan out in pleasure as his tongue pushes inside of you and coats itself with your arousal, Joel making a satisfied noise at the taste of you. 

You’re in absolute ecstasy, Joel’s teasing having taken way longer than you’d bargained for before finally getting some relief as he flicks your clit a few times with his tongue. He surprises you a moment later by sucking on it, and you inhale sharply at the sensation, breathing out an affirmation for him that it feels good.

His mouth hooks on tighter, the sucking harder than you’d ever experienced him doing, and it’s too much, it’s so intense that your knees wobble a little bit. You let out a faltering moan, your body’s response somewhere bordering on pain and pleasure before falling to the latter and you push your clit a little further into his mouth. After many long seconds, he releases it, breathing heavily onto your skin.

“No showin’ you any mercy, remember?” he says, and you sigh, eyes already feeling glassy from the way he’s treating your body. You nod lazily, hips pushing back down to urge him to continue, and he snickers lightly before licking your clit and sucking again, a little harder this time. You yelp and squirm under the immense amount of pressure and pleasure building right in that spot, the warmth of his mouth unending on the bundle of nerves. 

You hear a distant noise, the sound of a car approaching your private spot, and as it gets closer, Joel’s mouth moves off of you to turn towards it but you cry out. 

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, Joel,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping harder onto the metal of the car’s frame. Joel lets out a disbelieving chuckle and laps his tongue down your slit a few times. 

“Oh yeah? Don’t care if they watch us?” he coos, speaking in between strokes of his tongue. “Watch me make you scream my name?” A long drag up your slit followed by circling your clit with his tongue. “Dirty little thing…” He sucks hard on your clit again and you moan loudly before hearing the car drive away, likely spotting whatever they hell they thought you two were doing in this private spot and driving off quickly. You breathe out a laugh amid your ecstasy, quickly focusing back on Joel’s movements. 

You hear one of his hands working his belt before he unzips his pants and you glance over your shoulder, seeing his hand go down into his jeans and grab firmly onto his cock. 

“See what you do to me?” he breathes, licking and lavishing himself in all of your wetness, now coating his beard as he quickly begins pumping his cock with his hands. He growls and spanks your ass hard, eliciting a yelp from you before his mouth is back between your legs and to your utter surprise, he nips at your clit lightly and you almost jump, your hips twitching with such a different sensation. 

“Makes me almost angry, baby, how fucking hard you get me,” he says into your cunt before biting you again, his hand steadily working on his own cock and building his own pleasure. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you cry out, your whole body shaking from what he’s doing to you. He breathes heavily, grunting as his hand moves rapidly, trying to keep his mouth on rhythm through his own hand distracting him.

He suddenly pulls his mouth off,  buries three of his fingers from the hand that was jerking himself off deep inside of you, pumping several times until you leak all over his hands and he hums in satisfaction as he brings it back down to his cock, coating himself in you inside of his jeans. Mere moments later you hear a small whimper and a few expletives pass through his lips, still on your pussy, and he breathes out loudly. 

“Look at you, makin’ me come like a schoolboy in my jeans, baby,” he mutters. 

You hear a burst of sound and see a flash of light through your closed eyelids - the fireworks are starting, but they can wait. You can feel your climax so close, it feels like you’re practically reaching for it, your fingertips grazing the unbridled pleasure coming your way. 

“Fuckin’ come for me now, sweet girl, I wanna feel you soak my fuckin’ face, baby,” he groans out, the movements of his tongue becoming more frantic on you. You moan loudly, bouncing your hips back into him as he steadily works on your clit, placing sweet, toe curling bites on it every so often. You can’t believe it’s even possible for that to feel good, but it fucking does. The sound of the fireworks starts to drown out your moans, encouraging you to be even louder, crying Joel’s name. 

One last perfect circle of Joel’s tongue sends you shattering, your pulsing, aching clit shoved further into his mouth as he starts sucking hard while you spasm your hips. The pleasure is causing your knees to buckle, and Joel grabs your ass with both hands, squeezing each ass cheek tightly as he holds you up and steady as you continue to be hit by wave after wave of warm, tingling pleasure. You’re loud, maybe louder than you’ve ever been with Joel, not worrying about parents or neighbors or anyone hearing you two as you scream his name above the crackle and pop of fireworks. 

You breathe out a long exhale, your hips relaxing along with your hands on the side of the truck and steady your shaking knees. You settle down onto your legs when Joel pulls his face away from your thighs and you collapse your front against the truck, glancing at the sky to see gorgeous lights dancing above you two in several spots. This little viewpoint Joel chose offers a look at fireworks shows from several different nearby towns, all going at the same time. It’s beautiful, and you’ve never seen more than one fireworks show at once, so it’s fun to see the sparkling patterns in the distance as well, lighting up the whole sky. Joel tucks his body against yours, wrapping his arms around the front of your chest and dragging you down onto the blanket with him, holding you so you two can watch the sky together. You let out a small shiver, still completely naked, and Joel holds you tighter, tucking one of the blankets up around you now. He kisses the side of your face up and down as you keep your eyes on the fireworks, a small smile dancing across your face while his lips tickle and leave a tingling sensation over your skin. 

“Joel…” you say quietly, and turn to look in his eyes, your lips parted with your next words right on your tongue. 

“I know…” Joel says, not allowing you to say what he thinks might come out of your mouth. You stop short, unsure of why you were even going to say those words in the first place. You don’t love Joel, do you? It’s just that post orgasm feeling, that little bliss that lives inside you for a while afterwards that makes the person who gave it to you glow a little brighter for the moment. That’s not love, that’s… something else. You’re almost glad he didn’t let you embarrass yourself by letting it slip from your mouth.

“Me too,” he adds after a few silent moments, uncharacteristically timid, and your eyes widen, unsure if he’s saying what you think he is. You close your lips, pressing them together and give him a slight dip of your head, understanding he can’t go there right now. Instead, you turn your face a bit more and lean forward to kiss him softly. He reciprocates it immediately, a hand grazing your cheek as he holds your face to his tenderly. A radiant spark ignites in your chest when he touches you like this, so sweetly, like you’re only his to hold and also his to break. It makes you worship him  and fear him all at once, knowing he’s always going to be your undoing one way or the other.

Maybe this is love, you silently wonder to yourself. If it isn’t love, then how could anything else ever be?

taglist: @paleidiot​ @mumma-moonchild​ @soph55​

[fishfooddude]

I'll Raise You One Better

Richard "Richie" Jerimovich x Reader

Part of the Double Trouble universe, it was a brainworm that didn't stop diggin'

The Bear MasterList

Directory

Part 1

“Yeah, my sister sucks sometimes.” Sierra frowned as Richie paced Carmy’s living room. She looked over to see a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, “You really thought Sierra would cheat on me with you?” Carmy managed to ask without laughing too much. Richie’s arms flew up in the air, “Cousin- I’ve been beating myself up for fuckin’ days about this! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me Sierra had a fuckin’ twin?!” he grunted in a mix of annoyance and anger. He felt like a fool. Since he’d staged at Ever, he felt like he’d found his place in the culinary space. All of that could have been thrown away if he’d actually had sex with Sierra at that party. Carmy would’ve finally cut him off, Natalie would have followed suit due to family ties, and he’d lose his job, his friends, and everything else he’d worked for.

“Richie? Sit down, okay- you’re gonna worry yourself into having a fucking aneurysm.” Sierra sternly cooed as she guided the man to sit on the couch. Carmy leaned back in his chair, absolutely loving this; Sierra rolled her eyes before shooting him a dirty look. “Do you want me to beat her up?” Sierra offered as she sat down next to him. Richie flinched and shifted further away from her. “I just feel like shit Sierra. I thought she was you. I thought I fucked Carmy’s girl- what the fuck does that say about me? I’m a fuckin’ loser scumbag. I fucked my cousin’s fuckin’ girl.” 

Sierra frowned. “I can deal with this if you want, Richie,” she offered, hoping to appease some of the man’s guilt. Richie shook his head. “I just—I don’t know.” He was defeated. A silence fell over the room. Sierra looked at Carmy to see a quizzical look on his face; he had an idea, and she felt like it would be bad. 

“She fucked with you- you fuck with her,” Carmy suggested breaking the silence. Richie looked at him, “What do you mean?” he queried, raising an eyebrow in Carmy’s direction.

~

Sierra invited you out for dinner only to stand you up. You ended up ordering dinner to go and then went outside to wait. As you scrolled through your phone, you heard someone call out, ‘Sierra?’ You looked up and felt like a deer in the headlights—it was none other than Richie. 

“Thought you were workin’ tonight.” Richie laughed as he walked up to you. You shrugged, still playing into the idea of being Sierra, “Nah, I got a coworker to cover for me.” you bluffed. “Surprised you’re not hangin’ out with Carmy. We closed early- he said somethin’ ‘bout havin’ plans with you.” Richie said as he shoved his hands in his ill-fitting track pants pockets. You glanced toward his crotch and could swear you saw the outline of his cock; even soft, it was impressive. The thought of it filling you up again made your core quiver in anticipation. “Nah- I wanted some alone time, ya know…” you played off quickly, looking back up in his stormy blue eyes. “I told Carmy about what happened at Marcus’s party…. I didn’t think you two were that kind of couple.” Richie sneered, hoping you didn’t see through his own bluff. 

You shrugged in response. You tried not to think about your sister’s sex life, but now you were a little curious: what were Sierra and Carmy doing behind closed doors? Growing up, Sierra told you everything and the idea of her being some kinky sex freak would be an interesting lure reveal. “Things were gettin’ dry, ya know? Turns out Carmy’s into some… interesting stuff.” you subtly flirted back at him. Richie chuckled before quickly swiping his tongue over his top lip, “You know my place is just up the street. Wanna have some fun before the big night?” he asked as he stepped closer to you. 

“Big night?” you wonder, fidgeting with your phone case as you blankly stare at Richie. A wicked smile spread across Richie’s face, “Didn’t he tell you ‘bout it? He said he did… wanted to watch you get fucked… by a real man.”

You felt your breath hitch at Richie’s words. What the fuck did you get yourself wrapped up in? Richie sensed your hesitation and moved his hands on your hips and slowly pulled you toward him, “You scared princess? What happened to my good girl? Carmy said-”

You cut Richie off, “I’mnotSierraIdon’twannadothis!” 

Richie chuckled and shuffled his hands from your hips to your lower back, dangerously close to the top of your ass. “I know you’re not Sierra, Y/N. Why did you let me think you were?” 

“Uh- I uh- I never um said-” you mumbled softly as you looked away from him, “You let me believe it. You let me believe I fucked my best friend’s girlfriend. You know he’s gonna propose to Sierra, right? You let me think that I ruined the one thing that makes Carmy happy.” Richie hissed.

You swallowed, “I-I-I-” 

“I-I-I,” Richie taunted, “What! What you tryin’ to fuckin’ apologize for being a fuckin’ bitch? You’re just such some dumb little slut, aren’t you? Get off on fuckin’ up people’s lives? Makin’ think the worst of themselves?” he laughed letting his hands fall. “Fuck you, Y/N. You’re nothin’ but a fuckin’ whore.”

Part 3

[nerdieforpedro]

Doing Nothing vs. Nothing You Can Do

Chapter Two of Therapy for Well-Adjusted People

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Word Count: 1975

Summary: Imani makes an emergency appointment for an incident at work with Dr. Julep. Marcus receives some concerning news and talks to Dr. Mint about it.

Warnings: Mention of death, Death in a workplace, PTSD, anxiety, depression

Notes: I recently had a death at work of one of my coworkers so I’m working it out in my writing. 👀 Given when I’m posting this, it was in April of this year. I still wonder at times if I’m sane but I also think that the definition of sanity can be subjective at times. Point is, Nerdie is self-indulgent as always. She’s all up in her own writing. 👏🏽

Main Masterlist/ Marcus Pike Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Imani Coleman arrived at her last minute appointment with Dr. Julep. It was urgent that it needed to be today. She honestly wanted one yesterday but the office was closed by the time she got off work. It was insane that she’d finished her shift. All of them finished their shifts like that didn’t just happen.

There was an emergency number she could call but she didn’t feel it was necessary but she still needed to see her therapist, just to get the feelings out. To have someone listen. Had she not been so frazzled by the event this week, she would have noticed that a tall, handsome man in plaid held the door open for her. She smiled, but it was polite, she didn’t pay any attention to the man other than the red flannel. That stuck out to her but as she sat down in the waiting area, the idea floated away.

At first she’d spread out, ‘claiming her space’ as her friends and even her therapist told her to do, but she checked her phone. All the people messaging one another about the incident today, how it affected them, remembering how many people came together afterward. Imani closed herself back off and held her belongings closer to herself. However silly, she felt safer that way, for a few moments, it felt like she was being watched. Looking up at the front desk, Vernon was focused on his computer screen. No one else had come in. Imani chased that thought away. Unless some patient or family member was watching her to try and critique what she was doing, no one was looking at her that intensely.

Thankfully, Dr. Julep emerged from her office, greeting Imani and having her follow her to her office. She nodded and walked silently, out of character for her as she usually had a joke or two on the way and even after getting settled on the couch. The doctor sat at her tall stuffed white chair which made her black button down shirt and pencil skirt with red heels stand out all the more. Dr. Julep had scarlet hair with purple rimmed glasses that she put on for reading and when she took notes during sessions. She was a few inches taller than Dr. Mint, making her 6’3” without heels, long, well-defined, muscular legs were crossed and on display. Their cinnamon tone is bright from the natural sunlight from the windows. Some might say she has transitioned, others would claim that she was a man diving head first into their feminine side. What could not be disputed, was track record as a therapist with people and communities who didn’t feel served by many mental health and therapists at large. It’s why Imani came here for this practice. It was the only one that took her seriously.

Dr. Julep is watching Imani carefully. She’s set her belongings down, but hasn’t sat. Instead, the nurse is pacing, pressing her hands together in alternating fists. She doesn’t think she’d become violent or anything, but something is eating at her. The voicemail wasn’t clear and just stated that it was imperative that she talk to her.

“Imani. Dear, if you don’t want to sit yet, that’s okay, but please talk to me.” Still fiddling with her fingers, she gazes in her direction and takes a shallow breath. “I can’t help unless you tell me why you needed to see me today. It’s very clear it is something.”

“I couldn’t scream. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shake things and just sit in a corner and cry, but that’s not professional. Doesn’t help the patients.” Imani finally stops, but just stands. She doesn’t sit yet. She’s looking down, rubbing her palms together in a circle. “I mean, it’s a hospital. The patients are our priority, but it’s also a job. So serious but also not so serious. I went with the others to pay my respects. I…I…had just spoken to him that morning. I said good morning. He was sitting and I was getting some ice or drink or something. He was sitting there in the refreshment room. I thought maybe he just needed a break like we all do, you know?”

Dr. Julep can tell that this isn’t like her at all but lets her continue. It’s a jumbled mess, but from what she can gather, it involves possibly a patient or this man she’s talking about. “Okay. We do all need a break. Was he on a short break?”

Imani nods, it���s then that the tears start flowing. “He never made it from his break. One of the staff members came to get me to check his blood sugar. She was able to and it was okay, so was his blood pressure. We told him, his manager told him and other people told him to go down to the emergency room (ED). He just kept saying that he needed to rest. I just kept working. They’ve been on us about having the vitals and stroke assessments timely and I can see that damn woman tapping her watch with her finger telling us our assessments are late. Plus my stroke patients both have NG (nasogastric) tubes and the one, a ninety-two year old man is in bilateral wrist restaurants which requires documentation every two hours. And that’s just two of my patients, I had three more. But it’s still no excuse…none at all.” Finally she plopped down on the couch, her vision bleary from her tears.

The good doctor stands and takes a box of tissue off her desk and sits next to Imani on the couch, she gives her the box and she blows her nose. “It’s no excuse for what Imani? What do you feel you didn’t do? It sounds like there was plenty to do just with those two patients.”

“There were people going back and forth, trying to get him to go. I saw a friend of mine bring a wheelchair to him, but then everyone said he fell and hit his head. They presume after trying to stand up. They worked together to lift him on the stretcher and get him down to the ED. They said he was scared and they were trying to comfort him by telling him he’d be okay. But I remember how sick he was when he was a patient at our hospital before. I took care of him for a few days. I thought he was better. Another friend went down to check on him but they called a code blue on him…when she said they were still working on him. I knew then…The longer a code goes, the less chance you have of getting the back. He died. He came to work that morning, was working and was dead. I paid my respects to him with the others…at least he looked peaceful I guess. But then we all…just continued working. They had a 30 minute grief thing but then we all finished our shifts. I cried just like I’m crying now, but it’s especially when things like this happen where I wonder if I've been fundamentally desensitized.”

“My dear, is it alright if I hug you? Feel free to say no.” Dr. Julep opened her arms and Imani hugged her. They sat in silence for a few minutes as she sobbed. The appointment ended with no words spoken other than Imani thanking her for taking her call and making an appointment for her today. The nurse left once she had another appointment set up for later in the week.

Marcus found himself at the offices of Dr. Mint and Dr. Julep a second time that week. He hadn’t planned on it, but he’d gotten a call from his supervisor, stating that those two hot dogs were trying to press charges against him. Marcus showed restraint in not calling Patrick Jane and Teresa ‘hot dogs’ over Zoom call, but he was assured by his supervisor that they didn’t have a leg to stand on because in addition to Pike telling Jane not to interfere in the pursuit, so did the squad leader and field leader as well. They had already written their statements along with the other agents who were there and those who’d been in the office. Marcus spoke with Dr. Mint about the fact that the Janes had the audacity to even try to bring charges against him. For an accident, one that would have been prevented if he had listened to any of the three people that told Patrick to stay put.

After his session with Dr. Mint Marcus had his leather jacket draped over his left arm as he was making a follow up appointment with Vernon who was chatting him up about a Wizards game he was going to see later. “They usually lose, but I’ve got floor seats with my husband. He loves them for reasons I don’t understand, but he’s cute when he’s excited like that.” It was then that Dr. Julep walked Imani out to the waiting area. The statuesque therapist was wearing a tan dress with black ankle boots. She patted the nurse on her shoulder and went back to her office.

Marcus recognized the woman who’d been wearing a blue dress when he first saw her. He smiled and stepped back to allow her to be at the front desk and make her follow up appointment too. Today she was wearing a pale yellow cold shoulder top with ¾ sleeves, black capri leggings that displayed her caramel calves. She had on simple black flip flops with white nails, likely from a mani-pedi. She had on pink lip gloss and was chatting with Vernon about the Wizards game too. Marcus waited and hoped it wasn’t weird, well too weird. The elderly gentleman grinned and nodded his head in Marcus’ direction, whispering to Imani, “You have an admirer dear.”

Imani didn’t turn around yet, Pike can hear them, they both suck at whispering. It’s endearing though. “Do I? If he’s here, it could be a huge red flag or a green flag.”

“Green flag dear. He’s got a leather jacket and one of those…henley’s I think.” Marcus laughs and Imani looks back, turning to face this tall, broad and handsome copper toned man who was indeed wearing a red hanley, holding a black leather jacket, wearing dark wash jeans with black nikes.

“Hello…” Imani cleared her throat and swallowed some saliva that had gathered. She placed a hand over her chest and then placed back on the desk, leaning on it to appear more relaxed than she was. This was her admirer? Here’s to hoping Vernon’s right and he is in fact a green flag.

“Good afternoon. I’m Marcus. A walking green flag apparently.” Pike took two steps forward, but kept a foot away from her so as to not invade her space. “You two are very funny and yes I am an admirer.” Imani chuckled and extended her hand, he took it and shook it while they gazed at each other.

“How long have you been an admirer of mine, Marcus?”

“Long enough to where Vernon’s kept track of it but not so long that you should feel weird about it Ms. Imani.” They let go of each other’s hands and didn’t know what to do with them. Imani fiddled with her purse and Marcus went to his pockets.

“Hmm.” She used her index finger and thumb to grasp her chin. “Maybe we should get lunch, I’m a little hungry. Are you? And please call me Imani.”

Flashing a bright smile at her suggestion, he nodded. “I think I could go for some food. Where do you want to eat?” Imani waved goodbye to Vernon as Marcus opened the door for her and they left the office in search of lunch.

Peeps who have secret admirers (green flags) ✅: @megamindsecretlair @jessthebaker @avastrasposts @jeewrites @josephquinnswhore

@survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing @bishtrouille @morallyinept @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @rosecentaur1916 @westside-rot @rulexofxnines

@inept-the-magnificent

Chapter One. Chapter Three

[chellestrash]

Private Matters

Chapter I (18+)

Cam Boy! Frank Castle x Female Reader

Story summary: After stumbling upon a cam website one night you quickly discover your favorite streamer. Unable to get the thoughts and images of him out of your mind you decide to become a supporter and the two of you grow closer to each other over time. Things get complicated when your close friend, neighbor and crush decides to express his feelings for you.

Chapter summary: Deciding on a bit of self care you find yourself entertained by a solo play livestream of a man, who later refuses to leave your mind. Next day after work you decide to find him again.

Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, solo play,  teasing.

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: Okay first chapter is here! I’ll hopefully be able to update this story pretty frequently, at least i’ll do my best. I’m not the greatest at summaries so please don’t let that discourage you, i promise it’ll be a lot more interesting than that! I don’t know if anyone will read this but if you do, let me know your thoughts! thank you and enjoy! Thank you my sweet @chelseasdagger for all the help with everything, the proofreading and making me actually sit down and write this.

You stand behind the counter at the bar, your eyes following the last couple of people who slowly make their way towards the main door of the bar. You give a small wave and a smile to the few regulars who'd usually leave the bar around this hour, before finally nodding at one of your coworkers, gesturing for  them to close the door.

You finish up pretty quickly, with no customers to bother or interrupt you, you’re able to leave the place not long after the closing. Not wanting to waste any more of your time off, you make your way straight back to your building. Climbing up the stairs, you bump into one of your neighbors, one of the guys who often spent time down at the bar, one of the regulars.

“Long night?”

Frank’s voice bounces off the walls of the hall, and you give him a small, tired smile.

“Mhm.”

You confirm with a little nod.

“Even longer day.”

He nods, the soft expression on his face makes you feel understood.

“You’re gonna get some rest then?”

He asks, turning the key in the lock of his apartment door before glancing over in your direction.

“As much as I can before work tomorrow, yeah.”

You sight softly with a quiet chuckle.

“Good, that’s good.”

You nod.

“Hey, I didn’t see you down at the bar with the guys today.”

“Oh, yeah, was…busy, had a thing y’know. Maybe tomorrow?”

He asks, leaning on the door with his arms crossed in front of his chest, and you take notice of the way the sleeves tighten around his biceps.

“Well, I’ll save you a spot.”

You smile sweetly and turn around to walk up the stairs leading to your own apartment.

“Right by the bar?”

He asks, leaning out to look up the stairs, not warning to let you out of his sight just yet.

“Right by the bar.”

You agree, glancing down to the floor below you.

“Night!”

Frank gives you a small wave and a quiet

“Night.”

before walking back.

Shutting the door to your apartment behind you, you let out a loud sigh, slowly feeling the events of the late night shift catching up with you.

You enjoyed working at the small family bar in New York City. The money was enough to support yourself, and you liked the atmosphere and people you got to meet in the, now, months you worked at the place so far.

The late night shifts were definitely a thing you felt yourself still getting used to, walking back to your place alone after a closing shit still left you feeling uneasy on some occasions.

You toss your bag onto the floor and quickly make your way over to the bathroom, taking your clothes off in the process.

You let yourself relax under the hot water, taking your time to wash off the stress and all the thoughts you brought back home with you. The hot water works wonders for your tense muscles and anxious mind as you slowly slip into that “I get to relax and rest now” state of mind. Stepping out of the shower after a long while, you sigh gently and grab a towel before wrapping it around your body. Another one wrapped around your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and into your room.

Sitting down at your desk chair, you grab your phone to quickly check the couple messages from your work friends. Politely declining their offer to go out tonight, you toss your phone to the side before sitting back on the chair and letting your eyes close for a second. No plans for the night means more time for yourself, more time for yourself means…

You push your legs together slightly, feeling the cool breeze of the night air slowly filling up the room. Making your way over to the window, you feel the towel slipping down your body before managing to catch it at the last second, right in front of your bedroom window. The cold air feels so gentle and fresh on your nude body, you don't bother covering it up with the towel anymore. You lazily hold the fabric up to your chest, watching the city behind the glass. The street below you is not necessarily busy, not at this hour, not in this part of the town. But it’s New York. A couple of people and cars pass by, and you smirk softly, feeling your legs instinctively pushing together again as your mind wanders into all the places it shouldn't.

You quickly turn around, throwing the towel around yourself as you sit back down in the chair before garbing your phone again. You attempt to scroll away, the familiar feeling slowly letting itself known between your legs. You felt it over by the window, you felt it as you undressed to step into the shower, and you felt it as you sat down at the desk right now. With a loud sigh, you drag your hand down your face and think it through for a second.

“Alright.”

You mumble before quickly typing out the name of a familiar website into the search bar. Scrolling down through the many clips and videos, you stumble upon the livestreams. You’ve watched some before, it wasn’t really anything new, and it wasn’t usually your first choice, but you think it can't really hurt, right? You quickly pick out one of the videos at random, clicking on the little thumbnail. The guy in frame has the camera mounted in a way that doesn’t show his face. The shot starts below his jaw and ends right below his knees, the username in the top right corner reads “Big Bad Punisher”.

You roll your eyes at the three words but decide to give him a chance watching the way his hand moves up and down the length of his cock. He’s clearly taking his time with it, the movements being slow and steady. His groggy grunts emphasizing how pleasant the whole thing is for him. Your eyes glance around the screen, focusing on his big thighs for a moment, unable to decide if you're thinking more about the way they’re spread open in front of the camera or the way they take up literally 3/4 of the shot. The vein on his arm pops out slightly when he squeezes his cock harder right under the head. He grunts, and you instinctively glance over your shoulder before turning the volume up slightly.

“Jesus…”

You whisper when his cock twitches slightly on the screen. You glance away for a second, feeling your legs pressing together again, before locking your eyes on the screen again. It’s clearly working, you can tell by the way your body is reacting, you know if you wanted to go right now it honestly probably wouldn't take too long to get yourself off. But there's still that weird and annoying guilt at the back of your head. You can’t really help it, this whole thing feels a little bit off to you, as much as you wish it just didn't. But it's alright, it’s not really anything special. It’s not like it’s something you haven't seen before. You'll be alright on your own. You hover over the X for a moment, caught off guard by the way the guy slides down a bit lower on the couch, pushing his hips apart some more.

“God.”

You shake your head the moment you make your decision, but as you're about to click off the livestream, your attention shifts to the paid alert popping up at the top of the screen. And before your mind can process the words, the guy's voice rings out in your ears.

“God, I need that cock so fucking bad. I’m so close now.”

He reads the words out loud, following them up with a deep, loud chuckle, and you feel your hand flying up to your mouth and your legs crossing over. You freeze, waiting to hear his response, hoping you’d get to hear his voice again.

“Do you now, huh?”

He teases, his hand stopping for a moment before he rubs his thumb around the very tip of his cock.

“You’re gonna come with me, sweetheart?”

You feel your stomach crumple up into a little ball, your eyes open wide before you shut your laptop closed, probably the fastest you've ever done that before. The little “sweetheart.” bounces around your brain like a goddamn pop song for the rest of the night, and you swear to god you could hear it whispered in your dream throughout the night.

The next day, you somehow manage to make yourself leave for work. The day is slow, the earlier shifts usually are. It’s not like you have a lot to distract yourself with over the hours, and it doesn't help with your mind wandering back to the words you heard over your laptop speakers yesterday. You catch yourself zoning out here and there, just stopping in the middle of cleaning the glasses, chopping lemons or getting the ice. The voice is still stuck at the back of your head, the images flashing before your eyes from time to time. The way his big hand wrapped around his cock tightly, the way his legs spread open even more after a bit or the way his grip tightened right under his h-

“Hey.”

You shake your head and blink a couple of times. Frank’s voice brings you back into the boring reality, and you smile, a little confused still.

“You okay?”

He ask quietly, squinting as he tilts his head to the side slightly.

“What?”

You ask but continue before he can answer.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, just…tired, you know, and a little distracted.”

You breathe out a little laugh, finding it a little funny how hard it is for you to focus on your work today.

“Distracted?”

You nod, catching yourself laughing a little harder, and Frank smiles softly at the sound.

“Long story.”

You try to dismiss it, focusing your attention on the men in front of you now as best as you could.

“Alright.”

You rest your arms on your hips.

“The usual?”

Frank nods, glancing around the bar.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You spent the rest of the day attempting to focus on your chores some more. Running around behind the bar, you find it a bit more difficult to get distracted as the place fills up over time. You're quite thankful for the afternoon rush, as it successfully shoves the distracting thoughts to the back of your head, making it significantly easier to not focus and not get slightly turned on every five to ten minutes like earlier in the day. You finish up your shift eventually, and after grabbing your things from the staff room in the back, you push through the crowd of people gathering in the main space. You make your way over to the door, catching Frank following you with his gaze in the corner of your eye. You turn around quickly and wave, he waves back with a nod, a silent “see you later”, before you push the glass door open and leave the building.

It doesn’t take long from the time you close your apartment door behind you to the moment you sit down at your desk again. Staring down at the laptop in front of you, you let out a quiet sigh. Now that work is over, your brain and your body relax again, the morning thoughts and images from yesterday slowly make their way back to your head. The more you think about it, the more you can feel the familiar sensation between your legs. Biting into your lip, you think about it for another moment before giving up on trying to fight yourself on it.

“This is so dumb.”

You mumble to yourself, opening up the laptop, your mind already made up. Pulling up the site again, you quickly start scrolling down through the many thumbnails in hopes of noticing the familiar background. Minutes go by and, unable to find what you’re looking for, you feel yourself growing more and more frustrated with the whole thing.

“Fucking stupid.”

You catch yourself whispering under your nose. Hiding your face in your hands, you let out a frustrated groan. It takes you another moment, but after a while you decide it's probably not even worth it. Pushing the disappointed feeling aside, you move the mouse to the corner of the screen, ready to close the tab, when suddenly it hits you. The username.

“Oh shit.”

You focus, trying to remember the stupid name the guy was using. Clicking on the search bar, you type out the three words “Big Bad Punisher”. You feel yourself cringe slightly as you hit the button and wait for the next site to load in. A profile pops up, and you hurry to open it. There’s no livestream, only a couple of clips that stay posted and a little schedule with the days and hours of the planned streams written out. The shot in the clips matches up with the shot of the livestream you watched yesterday, it's him.

You check the date on your phone…twice…just to make sure and then check the schedule. There's a stream planned for tonight. You didn't miss it, it was still supposed to happen.

“Alright.”

When the time finally comes, you grab your laptop and sit on your bed. Wearing a big shirt and your panties only, you quickly open the tab with his profile and join the stream only a bit after it initially started. The angle of the video is basically the same. The shot starts below his jaw, exposing his neck, the veins on it, then his chest, in a nicely fitting black t-shirt. Then the sweatpants, the shot cutting off a bit below his knees. Your eyes fall to the bulge in his pants, and you feel that slight bit of embarrassment creeping up in the back of your mind again.

It doesn’t last long. Not when your thoughts get interrupted by the now familiar sound of his voice.

“I’m already horny.”

He reads the most recent alert out loud, and the words hit you like a semi truck. He breathes out a little laugh, and you watch how his hand makes its way up his thigh and between his legs. Rubbing his cock over the fabric, he pushes his thighs apart slowly, and you shake your head.

“God damn it.”

Your voice is so quiet, it feels like you're trying to hide from people despite living alone.

“Yeah?”

He answers after a moment.

“Already, sweetheart, really?”

You close your eyes at the pet name, quickly shoving your headphones in before turning up the volume just in time to catch the grunt he lets out while cupping his bulge.

“All that for me?”

He teases the viewers again, and you curse him, yourself and the subscriber that sent the message in your head. He works himself over the fabric for a bit longer, rubbing over his cock with the heel of his palm. His deep, low grunts make your legs press together a little tighter. Another alert pops up on the screen, and he reads the message while pulling the sweatpants down. Expecting to see a pair of boxers, you feel your stomach do what feels like a backflip inside you the second his cock springs out from under the waistband.

“You said you needed more, that enough for you, sweetheart?”

He refers to a person who sent a message earlier, but it doesn't really matter as you catch the little whine slipping past your lips.

“Oh, fuck.”

You whisper, cupping yourself over your underwear.

He works his hand over the length of his cock again, he’s faster this time. Not as slow and steady as he was yesterday, but you don’t mind, especially not since he makes sure to follow up every down stroke with a grunt and a hip thrust.

You feel the blood rushing between your legs, and the faint touch over the fabric of your underwear quickly becomes simply not enough for your current needs. You feel your hips buck up slightly as he reads through the alerts one by one, your body responding every single time he uses the sweet pet name. Your heart speeds up, your chest moving faster and faster as you watch his movements speed up as well. You catch the way his cock twitches at one point, and you let yourself whine a little loud as you finally shove your hand under the waistband of your panties. He won. You work your fingers over your clit, spreading your legs open before slipping the panties halfway down your legs. Your muscles tense up when you hear his voice in your headphones again. Another donation, another alert. Your hand freezes as you wait for his response.

“You’re doing good, sweetheart, keep going.”

You close your eyes, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you fight back another whine. When you open your eyes again, he's wrapping his fingers around himself tighter, stroking his cock now a little slower, squeezing right under the head just like he did yesterday. The small bead of precum forms at the slit on top of the now red head of his cock, and you catch a little

“Oh, fuck.”

That unintentionally slips past his lips.

You feel your hips pushing into your hand again and without thinking too much about it, you select a payment and hurry to type out a quick message.

“I’m so close.”

You hit send before you can think it through and watch as the alert pops up in the corner of the screen. He reads your message out loud, the sweet chuckle follows up your words, and he squeezes his cock harder one more time.

“Yeah? Me too, sweetheart, you wanna do it together? Hmm? Wanna try to come with me?”

He speeds up the tempo and so do you. The laptop resting on the bed, your eyes glued to the screen, your hands between your legs, and you do what you know will push you over the edge.

“Wait.”

Your eyes shoot open, and you stop your hand almost immediately.

“Did you stop? You waitin’ for me, sweetheart?”

You nod instinctively, your eyes glancing around the screen as you wait to hear him again.

“Good girl.”

He whispers the praise, and you swear you can feel your body shutting down at that moment. Clenching around nothing, you push your legs together with a frustrated grunt.

“Okay, c’mon let's make you feel good, huh?”

You know he’s addressing everyone, you know this isn't a one on one thing, and you know how stupid this might seem for some people, but at that moment you truly just don't care.

You wait for the guy to go back to working his cock, and you touch yourself when he does as well. Quickly building back up to the previous sensation, you speed up your moments, mimicking the man on the screen. Your breath gets more shallow, your mouth falls open, and your body tenses up as you feel yourself close to your orgasm with one more alert and his

“That's it, you can do it, baby.”

You push yourself over the edge almost at the exact time he does as well. The grunts ring out in your ears, and the cum spilling out of his cock makes sure to occupy your sense of sight as well. Your hips thrust up into your hand, a couple of moans roll off your tongue, and your center throbs for a good while after. You lay on your bed, eyes now closed, mouth slightly opened as you try to calm your breathing back down.

“Right, who wants to go ag-”

You shut your laptop closed, pulling the headphones out and quickly throwing everything on the floor. You push your fingers through your hair as the arousal and excitement drifts away slowly, and you're left alone with the thought of what just happened.

“What the fuck?”

Tags: @chelseasdagger

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[nicolovesutoo]

Satoru x Suguru - STARBOY

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Themes: Meeting at a nightclub, bartender Suguru and rich boy Satoru, love at first sight

FLUFF: 1,023 words ⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Suguru was a simple man with a simple routine: Shower, Eat breakfast, Attend college classes, Finish homework, and then Go to work. He has had this routine for over 2 years, it was ingrained in him. He was the type of person who needed a schedule, he couldn’t function without one. Working at Club STARLIGHT wasn’t on his bucket list, but it paid well. His friend got him the job after hearing him vent about his asshole manager at the last bar he worked at. At this job though, Suguru could wear what he wanted as long as it was all black and his hours were flexible.

Tonight at STARLIGHT, though, made him take multiple shots of espresso to the head. He had been up since 9 AM to finish a class project and went to work at noon… it was now 10 PM. He was covering a shift for Shoko because she had night classes and had covered his shift last week because he was sick. His least favorite thing to pour was beer, mostly because of the strong smell that it produced.

Dressed in black button-down and blue jeans, he poured a beer for a female patron before cleaning a wine glass. The music was blaring and the DJ was shit tonight, he looked like he was pretending to know what he was spinning. The remixes made no sense, like, “Who mixes ‘Blue’ and ‘Despacito’??” He thought, rolling his eyes and yawning before drying the wine glass. The theme for the night was ‘Christmas in São Paulo’, but he didn’t understand it either. The vote on the theme was held by his coworkers at 4 PM on Wednesday like clockwork. He tied his long black hair into a ponytail and listened to other people’s conversations.

A certain man caught his eye though, he stood out like a sore thumb but in a good way. His white hair was messy and he was dressed in a blue dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, black pants, and black dress shoes. He was laughing and chatting it up with the other male patrons that Suguru had seen around more than once. These men spent a lot of money in one night; their checks usually racked up to $600+. They were important businessmen who, when they were drunk enough, wanted to buy a little bit more than just a drink. But Suguru always declined and called a cab for the men, even when they weren’t bothering him.

The man with the white hair and pale skin approached the bar, sitting right in front of him. He had an expensive watch on his right arm and his tinted round glasses barely covered his bright blue eyes. The man had the smile of an angel but the appearance of a sly devil. He spoke gently to Suguru, the man was sober.

“Hi there, Mr..?” He asked, gesturing towards Suguru. They didn’t wear name tags here.

“My name is Suguru.” He answered, coming closer to the bar and leaning over to talk to the man. Surprisingly they were of equal height. “What can I do for you?”

The man looked him up and down before flashing a smile and lowering his glasses, “Well my name is Satoru, and can you make me a Hennessy on the rocks?”

Suguru nodded and turned away from him, going to make the drink. Usually, Suguru would be the one making the conversation with the patron but Satoru carried it. He talked all about his job working at this fashion company named, ‘KAIZEN.CO’, how he was the future CEO because of his father.

Suguru didn’t come from a rich family like Satoru did. Sure they were well off but not designer well off. When he handed him the drink the man’s hand lingered on his for a bit, longer than needed, before taking away the drink. Satoru took a sip from the drink and gave him a thumbs up, signaling that he did a good job. He handed him the check, the drink coming out to $20. He paid in cash, placing down a $100 bill and telling Suguru that it was his tip before winking. He wrote something down on the check before walking away to his buddies, a man with blonde hair and another with brown hair.

Suguru raised an eyebrow before picking up the check and reading what the man had written. He had written his number and told him to ‘Call him <;’. He scoffed before sticking the receipt in his back pocket and finishing his job.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

He went home at midnight, completing a 12-hour shift, and was ready to pass out. When he lay on his bed, however, he sighed and thought about the man who took an interest in him. Without consulting his friends, he took the receipt out of his back pocket and dialed the man’s number into his phone. He put it on speaker and waited anxiously for him to answer, his heart dropping a bit while it rang.

When he answered the phone, his voice sounded groggy, as if he had just woken up, “Hello..? Who’s this?” He asked with a yawn.

Suguru hesitated before speaking into the phone, “It’s Suguru, the man you asked to call you..”

He could hear the man scrambling around, knocking some things over while cursing under his breath. He heard something ‘click’ before Satoru spoke again, “I was hoping you would call! If you aren’t busy tomorrow, well today, I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Suguru asked, laughing a bit while the man on the other line scrambled for words.

“W-Well yeah! If that’s what you want to call it, I mean you don’t have to that’s totally chill, like we can keep talking–”

“There’s this nice cafe on 5th street named ‘ANGELS’. Meet me there at 10 AM?” He asked him, ending the rambling.

He felt him smiling on the other end before answering, “Yes, I’d love to.”

“See you then.” He said before hanging up the phone and telling him goodnight.

(I'm also on AO3: ily__nico)

[sofreddie]

The Parts You Hide 3

Summary: Dean continues to struggle after Sam's rejection, and his friends and family notice the change.

Characters: Bisexual!Sam x Closeted!Bisexual!Dean, Benny, Castiel, Mary, John, Others

Warnings: Wincest (Not Related), M/M, Angst, Drinking, Intervention

WC: 918

A/N: I had a couple of requests to continue this series, and inspiration finally struck. I expect about 8 parts in total. Feedback is appreciated! : )

The Parts You Hide Masterlist

My Masterlist

Part 2

After Sam's rejection, Dean spent several weeks wandering around, feeling lost and disoriented. His day-to-day activities seemed monotonous, everything tinged in grey, lacking in the liveliness it once held in Sam's presence. He was angry with himself for making Sam so mad and hurt and angry at Sam for pushing him away.

Unbeknownst to Dean, his friends, family, and coworkers all noticed the change in him, his personality changes, and his constant moodiness. He didn't smile, laugh, joke around, or join for dinners or drinks after work. It wasn't until one of his friends and coworkers, Benny—who, in his defense, had been on leave and wasn't aware there were changes in Dean's life—that he tried to talk with Dean and was met with unanticipated animosity.

"Hey, Dean-o," Benny said with a broad grin, ready to catch up with one of his best friends. "How've you been?"

Dean shrugged, barely casting Benny a glance before returning to his work. "Fine."

"You sure, Chief?"

Dean rolled his eyes and suppressed the growl. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone in a while.

"Hey," Benny leaned in closer and spoke in hushed tones. "Is it something with Sam?" Dean stood straight and stared directly into Benny's eyes at the comment, clenching his jaw. "It's just that I heard some of the guys saying something about you two not being on talking terms? Did you have a fight?"

When Dean didn't respond, Benny continued, "Hey, man, I'm sure it's nothing. Friends fight sometimes."

"Benny," Dean spoke low and careful. "I get you haven't been around, but you don't know what the fuck you're talking about. So just shut it, okay?"

While Benny wanted to pry further, the look and tone Dean gave told him it wasn't wise. With a curt nod, Benny backed off. Dean cursed himself for snapping at his friend, but this whole Sam mess was getting to him, and just mentioning his name had him ready to hit something. He decided to focus on his work. He could get drunk until he forgot when he got home and repeat the vicious cycle as many times as necessary until he didn't feel like this anymore.

-

Maybe it was Benny's return and the constant conversation about it, the workload, or even his overloaded mind, but the day had felt exceptionally long. When he pulled into his driveway and shut off his Impala, he was ready to down a few shots and head straight to bed. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go through this.

Why couldn't Sam just accept what they had? 

Why did he have to go and fuck it all up by wanting more?

Dean knew he was an ass because he wanted that, too. He just couldn't get over the stigma he had in his mind over it. It's not like he cared if other people were in same-sex relationships, so why did he care so much about what people thought about him being in one?

As he closed the front door behind himself, he let out a long breath before turning to see his living room full of people, all seated around the room, eyes on him as he entered. He had to stop and think - it wasn't his birthday or anything. Did someone die?

The most influential people in his life were all in this room, except for Sam. The thought made his heart sink, but he stiffened his posture as his mother rose from the couch and slowly approached him.

"Dean, honey," she said as she rung her hands. "We're all here because we care about you and are worried about you."

"I'm sorry," Dean chuckled, "Worried about me?"

"You haven't been yourself lately. You've been snapping at people and canceling on plans."

"Mom, I'm fine. I just haven't been in the mood."

"You're not fine. Is it drugs? You've been drinking more. We're just trying to help you."

Looking around the room, Dean could see the varied looks of concern and anger. He dropped his head and laughed humorlessly as he realized what was happening.

"An intervention? Really?"

"I don't think it's drugs," someone spoke, and Dean looked past Mary to see his closest friend -other than Sam- Castiel. "I think it has to do with Sam."

Castiel approached Dean, and Mary went back to her seat. "If not with Sam, then why isn't Sam here? You two are always together. So why isn't he here, Dean?"

"Cas, don't," Dean spoke through gritted teeth.

"Dean," Cas lowered his voice. "Were you in a relationship with Sam?"

Before he could respond, his father spoke up beside Mary on the couch. "How could you suggest such a thing?" he angrily asked. "It was that Lisa girl, wasn't it? That's why you've been drinking like a fish."

John's feelings about homosexuality are one of the biggest reasons why Dean always felt wrong and felt like he couldn't give Sam what he wanted. His reaction to Cas' suggestion made his stomach sink and only further confirmed to him that he had to get over this.

"I'm not doing this," Dean announced, turning for the door.

Castiel rushed around Dean, blocking the door and raising his hands to stop Dean from leaving, but he wasn't having it. With a swift right hook, Castiel was out of his way and on the ground, holding his face. Without looking back, Dean fled the so-called intervention. They could have the damn house. He'd sleep in his Baby just fine.

PART 4

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[fluffyzoey]

The Corpse in the Coffee Shop

Emma Matthews-Perkins doesn’t expect to walk into a crime scene upon making a late-night trip to Beanies to retrieve an item she left behind, and she definitely doesn’t expect her least favourite coworker and a woman she knows Zoey hates to be at the heart of said crime, but that’s exactly what happens. AKA: things get heated in Beanies and Gerald fucking dies.

“What the hell…!”

Emma dropped her bag on the floor, too stunned to even move. Behind the counter of pastries, her coworker hunched something large and wet and bloody, oozing scarlet onto the tile floor. 

“Emma!” Zoey’s face went bright red as she frantically scrambled to throw the body bag into the supply closet. “It’s not what it looks like, I swear!”

“Yeah, then what is it?” Emma’s hand tensed around her phone. She was debating whether to call 911, Nora, or maybe Paul to come pick her up. “Because it sure as hell looks like you killed someone.”

“It wasn’t entirely my fault!” Zoey hissed through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, you had an accomplice, fantastic. Listen, I don’t know who that is…was? I don’t know what you’re doing but you can’t…do it here.” 

“I know, I know.” Zoey slammed the closet door shut. “But I can’t hide him at home, Hailey would pass out if she found him somehow, and Lin- my friend thought it would be smart to drag him to Beanies, toss him in the bin outside for collection.” There was an awkward silence between them as Zoey glanced around the shop, which was usually shut tight at this hour.  “We’re closed, by the way! Why are you here?”

“I left my jacket here, damn.” Emma shifted awkwardly in place. “And why the hell would that be smart? What if Nora found out? You’d be fired and arrested! Actually, I don’t know why I’m not calling the cops on you right now!”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “No. Emma, don’t. Emma, please, I’m begging you, I need this job.”

“I don’t know if I want to work with a murderer! Who was that, by the way? Your boyfriend?”

“Sam? God, no, that was last week, this is, well…”

She pulled the door open again. The man’s body was uncovered now: he was pudgy, not obese, but not healthy either. He was wearing a white button down, now stained crimson down the front from a clear stab wound, and a pair of khakis caked in blood. He was balding, but what hair, both on his hair and his face, was left, was a sort of reddish brown. His wire-framed glasses were broken and crooked, his greenish-brown eyes glassy and pooled over.

“Zoey…”

“Yes, Emma, that’s exactly who you think it is, it wasn’t my idea but he…he needed to go.”

“Doesn’t he have a family? A wife and kids?”

“Yeah, well sure.” Zoey pushed the door closed again. “But-“

There was a pounding at the door, and Emma whipped around to see a blonde woman slip inside, tucking something small and metallic into the pocket of her thick fur coat. She recognized her; this was someone of status, someone she’d seen around town toting hundreds of dollars’ worth of clothing and food in designer bags. This was Honey Queen material.

“I’m sorry I distrusted you, Miss Chambers.” She spoke with a loud, posh voice, not unlike royalty Emma had seen in movies. The closer she got, the easier it was for Emma to take notice of her. She didn’t seem to notice Emma, perhaps too lost in guilt, or…pleasure, even?

“Yeah, yeah, can it.” Zoey grumbled. “We have a visitor.”

The blonde looked up at Emma and immediately brought a hand to her mouth in a gesture of shock and unease. That quickly faded, replaced by determination.

“If you so much as utter a word about this, I will make your life a living hell.” She wasn’t any taller than Emma, yet Emma could feel the sense of pride emanating from this woman. It made her want to shrink into the corner. Emma wasn’t one to back down from a fight, even in youth she would spend afternoons in detention after “incidents” in school, but this woman meant business. A matter of class, really. 

“Back off. Emma’s had her fair share of illegal activities. Does the smoke club ring any bells?” Zoey fumbled around behind the counter, pulling out all sorts of cleaning supplies. “Or ‘Perky’s Buds’?”

“Selling weed is a lot different than actual fucking murder.” Emma pointed out. “Even I wouldn’t-“

“Now that you’re here, you’ll either help us, or stay quiet.” The blonde snapped. “It’s an unlucky day, fate forcing both Chambers and her little friend upon me.”

“She is not my friend.” Emma and Zoey growled in unison. The blonde frowned disapprovingly. 

“It doesn’t matter. We’re all friends, for tonight. Miss…?”

“Matthews. Mrs. Matthews, actually.” 

“For now.” The blonde’s voice darkened. “I suppose you know who I am, then?” 

Emma’s thoughts failed her. Though she knew the woman was one of the so-called fat cats of Hatchetfield, she couldn’t but a name to the pale, unforgiving face. “I don’t.”

“Linda Monroe, president of the Hatchetfield Boating Society.” There was a great sense of pride. Emma felt that she enjoyed introducing herself. “Linda Murry, now, I think.”

“And who’s the man in the closet?”

Linda went even paler than usual. “That…would be my husband. Ex-husband, I suppose.”

Zoey went over to the door and threw it open, letting the cadaver topple onto the ground with a dull thud. “Supplies are in the back. Emma, now that you’re here, are you gonna help?”

Emma was too paralyzed by the fear of what “help” meant in this scenario to even lift a finger. Mentally, she was berating herself: Why didn’t you just call someone, anyone? Your life could be on the line, Emma, you fucking idiot! 

Zoey was already hard at work. Before Emma’s eyes, the body of Gerald Monroe was being taken apart bit by bit. Zoey hacked, Linda supervised, and a balding head rolled into the cabinet that held up the espresso machine. 

“Why did you…how did you…” Emma stuttered. “Is he really…”

“What do you think, Mrs. Matthews?” Linda turned to her, ignoring the carnage unfolding at her feet. “Yes, he’s dead. He cheated on me! Ten times, if you can believe. I don’t know how I’ve been so blind and stupid. Shame on you, Gerald.”

“You weren’t exactly loyal either.” Zoey quipped, tossing a dismembered hand over her head carelessly. 

“Holding hands with another woman isn’t cheating. What Gerald did is, and he’s paying the price now, isn’t he?”

Emma gulped. She was in over her head now, she knew she should have split when she had a chance. Now, body parts and blood covered the tile, Zoey was covered in a layer of guts and gore so thick she looked like a lioness after a hunt. 

“Throw them in the bin,” Linda instructed. “And then we can wipe up and never speak of this again.” 

Emma spoke up. “Are you two seriously not concerned about the police finding out? Zoey, you’re dating a cop!”

“And if you knew I was dating Sam, you’d know that he and his goons wouldn’t suspect me of a thing. In fact, Sam himself is dead and gone, I did that, and here I am, continuing the streak.” She panted, pulling out a Clorox wipe and scrubbing her palms. “No one is going to guess a thing, unless…you tell them.”

Suddenly, Emma felt a bloody hand shove her up against the wall. Zoey had flown to her feet, and there was a knife to her throat, and Zoey was staring at her, eyes wild, hair unkempt. “Do you know how easy it would be for me to slip some rat poison into your husband’s fucking black coffee? I’ve proven before that I can get away with murder. Don’t even think about ratting me out.”

Emma was painfully aware of every part of her body, every vein dragging every blood vessel to her heart, pounding like a hammer against a nail. From the corner of her eye she could see Linda looking at her with a satisfied grin. This was the weakest Emma had ever felt. 

Zoey withdrew the knife, but kept it brandished in one hand. “Got it?”

Emma nodded. “I’ll help clean up. I open tomorrow.”

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics w/ Classic Tropes (2) Masterlist

part one

A Match a Day Since 1965 - nebulous-frog

Summary: Phil works at a diner with a sign that says “Matching soulmates daily since 1965” and he never really understood it until one day, he did.

Everyone has a soulmate and you know you’ve met them when you injure yourself in front of them. Marks show where and how badly you will be injured.

Balling in Love (ao3) - ticklishpickle

Summary: Dan and Phil are captains of rival soccer teams, and have hated each other for as long as Dan can remember. However, it starts to seem as if Phil is out to win more than just the game…

Before We Turn Into a Monster (With Two Heads) (ao3)- blueshirt

Summary: “Once this case is over, I’m getting a new job. Maybe one where I just sit in my bedroom and make videos about my life. That would be nice,” Dan muses dreamily to himself—or rather, mumbles indistinctly to himself, because it’s a little hard to articulate when you’ve been shoved into the trunk of a moving car, bound, and gagged.

Blue - melancholymango

Summary: au where everything is black and white until you kiss your soulmate.

Boyfriends Without Benefits (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: There’s only one real bed on the tatinof tour bus and Phil’s willing to share it with Dan. The problem? Dan’s in love with Phil and Phil has no idea.

Campfire (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: Dan goes camping with Phil and his family. there are two beds, but they’ll find a way to get around that.

Emergency Rooms and Bruises- auroraphilealis

Summary: Shared bruises AU. Phil wakes up with the realization that his soul mate is being abused, but doesn’t know how to help him. (TW: Abuse)

Friends won’t treat me like you do (ao3) - Mangomelions

Summary: Phil pretends to be Dan’s boyfriend to stop a creepy guy hitting on Dan. The lie escalates and they decide to keep it up for a while. How long can they keep pretending?

Ignorance is (definitely not) bliss (ao3) - RachelIsWriting

Summary: After Dan surprises Phil by agreeing to his stupid fake relationship plan to impress the bosses at his company we spend the week with them in New York. Where Phil tries desperately to think of everything but Dan, and Dan tries everything he can to make sure that doesn’t happen.

it's no good (unless it's real) (ao3) - blueshirt

Summary: The first time it happens is an accident.

(Or, the one where Dan accidentally starts reverse-dating Phil in the midst of executing a foreign tour, sharing the world's tiniest mattress, and generally failing at Amish table-making.)

It's Worth Deciding (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: The five times Dan and Phil nearly came out in a live show...

....and the one time they did.

Love That Passes (Is Enough) (ao3) - nihilist_toothpaste

Summary: Phil is a sad divorcee who lives in a mansion. Dan starts as a nervous and weirdly loud law student hired to work part-time as Phil's poolboy-slash-housekeeper and turns into so much more.

Just go with me on this.

Printer Error (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Dan’s a fanfic writer who’s desperate to meet the AmazingPhil, but one printing mishap could bring him closer to his idol than he ever anticipated.

Room For Two (ao3) - dip_and_pip_trash

Summary: Tour is great but sometimes it’s nice to actually share a bed with the person you love.

scratch bark bite (oh, love me, i lied) (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: Music & Drama teacher Dan Howell has a well-known rivalry with his coworker, English teacher Phil Lester.

An unforeseen event flips everything Dan thought he knew about Phil and himself on its head. Slowly but surely, the grudge withers, and the two of them cross the line between enemy and friend. But what will happen when their true intents and feelings get revealed? And was what they had ever really a rivalry? Was it even mutual?

Sea Glass (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Phil arrives on the Isle of Man to house-sit at his family's cabin while it's repaired and sold. Except the cabin's in far worse shape than expected, and Phil's got to find somewhere else to stay (Phil POV)

Stick Together For Survival - doomedhowell

Summary: Dan and Phil are not what you would call friends. The only reason they interact with each other at all is because they both work at Jurassic World. One day, a dinosaur breaks out of containment which forces Dan and Phil to work with each other.

super soul (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: Phil has spent his whole life believing that meeting his soulmate will give his life the meaning he’s been looking for.

Then he meets Dan.

(when you gonna realise) it was just that the time was wrong (ao3) - The_Blonde

Summary: Phil works in a coffee shop. Or at an animal sanctuary. Or at a university. Maybe he’s a Youtuber. Maybe he runs an editing firm. Sometimes he’s in the 1920s. In all of these places he has dreams. In all of these places he is in love with Dan. It’s just trying to work out which time is the right one.

Your Crowning Glory (ao3) - pasteldanhowells, rainbowchristy

Summary: Dan is 18 years old when the news is suddenly sprung upon him that he is next line to be the next king of Genovia, but things don’t go as smoothly as he thought, between having a suddenly busy schedule, a new lifestyle, an arranged marriage that Dan has no control over, and worst of all, Philip Lester trying to steal his crown.

[wack-ashimself]

My major problem with GOTG 3 is in the third act (of course)...

<MAJOR ULTIMATE FINALE SPOILERS FOR GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY 3>

Overall, solid movie. It was a nice closer. And even tho it was 2 1/2 hours, it still felt like it kinda force rushed character growth finality. 'THIS is who EACH person became and ended up. END OF STORY!' Then the post credits with 'Star Lord will return.' WHO THE FUCK CARES? They are an ensemble cast and Peter Quill, no powers, by himself, sounds boring as shit.

But the third act, for them being the HEROES, they did one of the most short sighted, stupid, even cruel possible choice.

Knowhere is now a giant mobile city for 10s of thousands. In the final act, they need to board the enemy ship. So they transport Knowhere, a city full of THOUSANDS OF INNOCENT PEOPLE, right into the heat of the battle to attack the enemy ship. Again, putting at risk everyone, and 100% getting some of them killed. Kids too. To save ONE person? I'm sorry, but that's the most unhero thing you can do: 'My friend is at risk, so I'm going to jeopardize thousands of lives.' WTF. <fairly, Starlord and Thanos shows he doesn't care about EVERYONE. I always hated that scene too. Thanos killed Gamora and you think your tempter tantrum will help anything? Saying this all out loud...Starlord is a POS.>

Also, you KNEW the lead baddie was creating a new world with new creatures. You kinda KNEW there were 100s of lives on that ship, but still attacked it without considering all the facts? Starlord is not a hero. I do not want to ever see him anything without the rest again.

My fav part? 3 fold.

3-Mantis FINALLY sticking up for herself. She needed a backbone.

2-The trilogy kinda hinting that the main focus, the whole time, was actually rocket racoon (and him finally admitting he's a racoon). Seriously, when they tease this, you reflect on EVERY movie he's been in (and remember him and Nebula were alone for 5 years after Thanos which I never really thought about. The impact of this movie being all about Rocket possibly dying & her reaction hit that much harder.)

1I love/hated Gamora's ending. I'm glad she kinda got her heart back, and did NOT end up with Quill (It wouldn't of been the same). But how buddy budddy/family she was with the ravengers seemed out of place. Forced with the tiny Stallon cameo. Either she IS doing it for the money or she DOES care about them. Quill didn't even love them all that much. Coworkers? Cool. But now they're family? Weird. Out of place.

Least fav thing?

Starlord going back to his grandpa. Sorry, but he basically never showed any interest ever, but now, because someone mentioned it, he changes the rest of his life? This movie solidified that Starlord is my least favorite guardian. He's a selfish short sighted baby man.

Overall, better than 2 (but 2 was needed), and a fair (but not the best) closer.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3: 7.2/10.

<What would I have done different? Starlord dies. It would have been better. It really genuinely would have been better if he died exactly when it looked like he was gonna. And it would have been perfect: dying for his music player? He came in a dumbass, he went out a dumbass. THEN it would give a comfortable opening for Gamora and Nebula to reconnect and fix everything they broke thru the years. Everything else could've stayed the same. Maybe Mantis going to find her own species would've been cool. As I said, it was a decent ending. But that 3rd act....a little wishy-washy.>

[jareaulover]

Hits Different

Summary: JJ finds out that Emily is moving to London at her wedding.

Pairing: Will/JJ/Emily (Emily and Will are friends)

A/N: Like I said on AO3, I'm not, nor have I ever been, in a polyamorous relationship. I did some research, but obviously if I did/said anything wrong please let me know so I can correct it! I appreciate feedback and I am hoping to make this a sort of series. I'm not sure if there will be a central plot. Most likely just a series of one shots.

AO3 Link or the full story is below the cut

Catastrophic blues

moving on was always easy for me to do

It hits different

It hits different ‘cause it's you

The entire night was wonderful. Surrounded by all the people she loved; her team, her boys, even her mom was there! JJ didn’t think anything could possibly ruin this night for her. She had just married the man she loves and she was currently dancing with Henry. That’s when she heard the hushed voices of her boss, Aaron and her coworker Dave. 

“Yeah, we’re going to talk about it on Monday, but Emily is most likely going to take the Unit Chief job in London.” Aaron said, he had a bit of a sad smile, “I’ll be sad to see her go, but I’m glad she’s moving up. It’ll be a great fit for her.” He said.

“I agree. I’m proud of her.” Dave said, sipping his scotch. JJ felt her heart sink. London? She scooped up Henry and carried him over to Will. The boy was already starting to doze off on her shoulder and she figured it was about time to get him home and in bed. She handed him off to his daddy and gave her new husband a kiss.

“I have to find Emily…” JJ said, her voice shaking a little.

“Is everything okay, hun?” Will asked, rubbing her arm as a comfort. She melted into the touch.

“Um, I’m not sure yet… I heard Aaron say that she is moving to London… Taking the unit chief position there. I have to talk to her.” JJ said. Will kissed her cheek.

“Okay, I’ve got him. You go ahead.” Will said. JJ smiled and made her way through the crowd of her friends and family, looking for Emily. She paused for a second, seeing Emily sitting on the couch inside of Dave’s mansion. She considered herself lucky. She and Emily had started a secret (and mostly sexual) relationship only a couple months into Emily’s start at the BAU. Once she met Will, she had discussed her feelings for both of them with each one before having a conversation between all three. Will and Emily had actually hit it off and became fast friends and JJ was happy to have both of her loves. That was when things got romantic with both of them and things had just gotten better from there. 

“Hey, Em.” JJ said as she sat down, smoothing out her wedding dress. She could tell Emily was deep in thought.

“Hey, JJ.” Emily murmured, bumping her shoulder into JJ’s. 

“I, uh, I heard Aaron say…” JJ started, Emily squeezed her eyes shut and sighed.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this.” Emily said. JJ wrapped an arm around her, “And especially not on the night that we’re supposed to be celebrating you and Will.” 

“Em, it's okay. I-I think it's an amazing opportunity for you.” JJ said, pulling Emily closer. Emily laid her head on JJ’s shoulder and closed her eyes again.

“It is… And you know how it's been for me… being back and,” She sighed, “I just need a change.” She said, JJ nodded.

“I get it, Em. Do, uh, do you want to talk about what this means… for us?” JJ asked her. She didn’t want to pressure Emily into making any decisions but surely Emily had thought of her relationship with JJ.

“I’m not sure, J…” Emily bit her lip, willing the tears to just stay put. 

“We can figure it out together.” JJ offered. Emily finally looked at JJ and that’s when the tears started falling.

“I’ll be in London, JJ. It’s over 3,000 miles away… And, really, we can’t even do visits. You’ll be on cases and when you’re not on cases you’re going to want to be home with your boys.” Emily said, trying to wipe the tears away faster than they could fall, “And I’ll be running a field office. I’ll have my own cases and there’s no way to ensure I’ll be available for visits.” She explained. JJ had tears falling from her own eyes now.

“We can make it work, Em, we can-”

“No… Eventually it’ll just fizzle out. We’ll both be tired of traveling and-” Emily sobbed as she fell into JJ’s arms. JJ was crying at this point. The two women held onto each other, neither really wanting to let go.

After a couple minutes of this, the two separated and wiped their own tears. Emily squeezed JJ’s hand and looked at her again.

“I love you, JJ,” Emily said, rubbing her thumb across the back of JJ’s hand.

“I love you, too.” JJ breathed out, pulling Emily into a tight hug.

“Ya know, we can still be friends.” Emily said with a smile. JJ pressed her forehead to Emily’s

“Of course we can, Em… And if you ever decide to come back one day there will always be room for you in my life.” JJ said, “Will and Henry love you so much, too.” She said,

“I love them too. They’re my boys.” Emily laughed through her quickly drying tears. JJ smiled. 

===

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat

Cursed the space that I needed

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense

Why the wound is still bleedin'

You were the one that I loved

JJ was sitting at her desk, rolling the small, double decker bus that Penelope had given her after getting back from London. It had been a few months without Emily there. Of course, the new coworker had fit right in and JJ was getting along great with her. That didn’t stop her from missing Emily every single day.

She had been a mess for the first couple of weeks without her. She was glad that she had Will to help her through it all. The first case without Emily had been rough for JJ though. It wasn’t even anything having to do with the case… JJ was so used to sharing her hotel room with Emily and it just felt so empty. 

“JJ, we’re gathering at the round table.” Spencer said, “Are you okay?” He asked, laying a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Of course.” She said, setting the bus back down on her desk. Spencer eyed it, then looked back at JJ.

“You know, you still have some vacation time to use… Maybe there’s a trip that you might want to take…” Spencer suggested. JJ smiled.

“Yeah… Maybe there is.” She said, following the younger agent to the round table room.

===

I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway

Is that your key in the door?

Is it okay? Is it you?

Or have they come to take me away?

To take me away

Emily was going over some files at her desk, when there was a knock on her office door, “Come in.” She said, not looking up.

“Ma’am, there’s an Agent Jareau here to see you.” Said the Interpol agent. Emily looked up, seeing the blond haired woman behind the Agent.

“JJ…” She said, standing up. She dismissed the agent and brought JJ into the office. She shut the door. As soon as they were alone, JJ surged forward and kissed her. Emily kissed back, hands on JJ’s hips. JJ deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around Emily’s neck. They rested their foreheads together.

“God, I’ve missed you so much.” JJ breathed. Emily kissed her again.

“I’ve missed you too, J.” Emily said. JJ smiled.

“Emily…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t make me say goodbye again.”

“Never again.”

===

[xlalitax]

[cisgender female, she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [ LALITA DANDEKAR]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [RITU ARYA] You must be the [THIRTY] year old [LOCAL RADIO (MUSIC) DJ ]. Word is you’re [INTOXICATING ] but can also be a bit [ABRASIVE] and your favorite song is [OH BONDAGE! UP YOURS! By X-RAY SPEX]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

Tw: fighting, alcoholism, emotional abuse

FAMILY

Mother: Indira Dandekar

Father: Anupam Dandekar

Sister: UTP

Cousin: UTP

Spouse: UTP

Wanted Connections

Spouse

Ex fiancé

Best friend

Roommate

Hook ups

Coworkers

Music connections

Drinking buddies

Biography

Some people follow the rules and some were born to break them. Lalita was born to be the later. Born in London to parents who had struggled to have children initially; Lalitas birth had proved to be a turning point for the couple in many ways. They were grateful to finally have a family but soon being the older sibling meant that Lalita was forced to be the perfect child. The Dandekars had high expectations for the sisters and in turn it made Lalita struggle to fit in with what they wanted for her. Growing up in one of the more fashionable and eclectic areas of the city opened doors for Lalita to expand her interests and rebel against what was considered popular. She also had a knack for getting into trouble much to the dismay of her family. After getting caught after committing several minor thefts the Dandekars thought that a change of scenery would help out the growing situation.

When she was fourteen; the family of four moved to the U.S.; eventually settling in Los Angeles, California. The move did little to change Lalitas growing disdain for her family situation however. The pressure as still on her and she only began to feel more restless. Living in a family that seemed to value achievement over creativity became more stifling. Due to her reckless behavior; Lalita stopped being seen as the perfect child and her younger sister took her place. While she felt relieved by some of the focus being pulled away from her, she also became more privy to the dysfunctional aspects of her parents marriage and the competitive streak her sister had when it came to her. Even worse the less focus on her meant Lalita had more time to get into trouble; and get into trouble she did. She still had a tendency to steal anything not nailed down, would get into fights, and break into abandoned buildings in the city to spend all night partying. Her biggest brush with trouble involved breaking a man’s hand during an argument. The act of aggression made her parents realize Lalita was growing more out of control and she had to start to settle down and take life seriously regardless if she was seen as the perfect child or not.

She was growing dissatisfied with the way things were being done. The more unhappy her parents were; she mirrored that opinion from her own perspective. In order to make some sort of compromise; Lalitas parents sent her to live with her aunt and uncle in Aurora Bay to finish out her high school years. Away from the watchful eye of her parents and without being compared to her sister; Lalita started to flourish. She felt like she could finally breathe and started to take life more seriously and began to mellow out more. She still had her wild edge, but Lalita was using it for more constructive things. She also had a much closer relationship to her cousin than with her sister; whose she always felt like she was being pitted against, which in the end wasn’t fair to either of them.

When Lalita became an adult, she felt slightly aimless. She had gone to school for music and had wanted to be a rock producer, but in many ways the industry was about who you knew to get in and Lalita was not someone who had connections. Instead she spent a lot of her nights going to punk shows and making friends with the bands that were also struggling to succeed in a fickle industry. Eventually she settled into becoming the local radio DJ in Aurora Bay, where she picks the music and will not take requests if the band sucks in her opinion.

Her personal life seemed just as up and down as her professional life with a string a various lovers walking in and out her door. She was the type of person who wanted one night stands over a real relationship because she wasn’t even sure if she had ever wanted to settle down. When she spent her nights with others who wanted to party and drink till the sun came up it wasn’t easy to make a solid connection. Her family still tried to keep in contact with her but it always ended in them trying to insert themselves into her life and change who she really was. Eventually she cut them off from contact with her for a couple years.

When she wasn’t looking for it;love bit her and then it destroyed her when she let her guard down. Lalita had fallen for a guy who seemed completely not her type. He seemed more structured and button down, while she was messy and chaotic. And yet they seemed like a perfect match. They were both the kind of people who were forced to live up to expectations and it made a bond form between them that led to a proposal and soon planning for a wedding. All was not what it had seemed and Lalita had actually been manipulated by her parents through her supposed fiancé. He had been too good to be true because he was. Half of who he had been was faked to appeal to her; all so her parents could still try to manipulate their oldest into making the decisions they wanted. The reveal caused the the engagement to end and Lalita went on an all night bender.

The girl who existed before she had gotten engaged came back in full force and by the time she woke up, a huge change had occurred. That night, she had asked someone she barely knew through her cousin to marry her; just to lie to her parents and say she was happily married. It surprisingly worked but now Lalita is married to someone she barely knows and she isn’t actually sure if she wants to stay friends or be more than that. There’s also the complicated relationship with her sister and cousin where she feels more like a sister to her cousin and feels like a stranger to her sister. While she may be a “ married woman” now; that hasn’t stopped Lalita from still trying to have as much fun as possible. You may find her dancing the night away or hearing her voice on the radio. She’s not the kind of girl to get into trouble with the law anymore but it doesn’t mean that past doesn’t come back to haunt her either and Lalita has a colorful past that makes her memorable.

@aurorabayaesthetic

[petrifiedchild]

Last year was really confusing for me. Or, the year before leading into this last year.

kin; I was trying to sober up and move on with my life from a man who hurt me. I didn't know at the time, but I was Venia before. Vea left and I struggled after that, I would learn later Vea often left whenever I was hurt in that way.

I moved, and even started to look for a new job since I had gotten the experience I needed from that job. Finally, I was moving on with my life. Moving, getting married, looking for a better job. Everything was falling into place.

But, it was a little race against time. I had been forced back into the office the man hurt me in, and my anxiety was slowly raising. I had to raise my anxiety meds, and even had to get anxiety attack meds. I had to get sleep aide. I wasn't doing well. The man wasn't there anymore, long ago left and even moved a few states away. The fear, the attacks just walking out the doors every day, it was killing me.

When I tried to gain accessibility to full time working remote due to my PTSD I gained from the events that happened on their own property, they fired me. I didn't know then, but it would be a blessing in disguise. I would move on to work in my husband's foundry, and found it a very easy and enjoying task for me.

The schedule would give me 3 day weekends. The pay increase was noticeable. Both together, giving my husband and I more time together, brought us closer. Breakfast dates every Friday, often a dinner date on one of our work days. Bowling on Friday. Hiking on Saturdays with our best friend. Sundays are spent going to our family's. Our social life bloomed, in it's own small introverted ways.

During that time, though, some people in my life started to be so, judgemental. I know I was always, bad with expressing myself, but I always ignored it. If my friends were calm and questioned me, I was able to articulate what I really meant. I didn't mean poor things, I just said poor things. I am quite understanding and kind, all things considered.

Since I was meeting more people, they started to notice. It was easy for it not to be a problem amongst most men I met, like in real life, we hung out and worked and shot the shit. The women at work, though, hated how short I was with my words, how I needed just the important information, not their stories, because it would only confuse my simple brain. I'm unsure where the resentment started, but they eventually found plenty to complain about, plenty of me not being great with socializing for them to criticize.

The worst is my stutter. It gets worse in the face of people like that, my stutter, mutism, panic. The more I stuttered, the more they hated me. No idea why that one upset them. They hated that I was scared of them. An aggressive, "What's wrong? Why are you doing this? You act like I'm about to hit you, you know you have to work with other people, right?" And the more aggressive, longer they go on, the more I shake, tears start to form, I hyperventilate.

If I walked away, they would follow me, hounding me. Not just aggressive tone, they would be yelling at me by this point.

The assumptions were upsetting at best. Comments about sobriety, comments about how I was lucky my partner was still with me with how I acted, berating me on how slow or poor I was at my job. It reminded me of my mom. It hurt. My mom was always insisting I meant the most horrible things with every single action. It would make me wish I was.

Online was a refuge to this harassment, and then my friends... Started to do a similar thing. I would get sent assumptions. About my feelings, the things I posted, things I did. They upset me. They made me feel just as hurt and attacked as my supervisor made me feel.

The things my coworker, and supervisor did, were just projections. In retrospect, the things my friends said, were also projections. Not necessarily that they did these poor assumptions, or thought them from their perspective, just thinking I did. Likely learned behavior, like their own parent having mean assumptions, much like my parent did. The more like parents I have with others, the more they dislike me. It happens. It's like looking in a mirror, and people don't like doing that. It wasn't my friends fault, but somewhere they were hurt deeply.

It hurt so bad, I couldn't figure out how to articulate to them I didn't think the things they did. I would get defensive, angry, that my friends would think such horrible things. It made me bitter, resentful. I was so hurt, just like in the face of my supervisor, I had no idea how to actually defend myself.

I didn't know how to calmly let them know it wasn't true, but to offer understanding why they misunderstood, and offering compromises. I was hurt and scared, and because of this harassment I faced by my coworker and supervisor, I had fully relapsed. In the face of this hurt, I would just get high. I would get high, and I know I would split. I know I would be hateful, and hated myself after, and hated anything I ever said.

I had lashed out at these friends, who had done nothing other than be victim to their own intrusive thoughts/poor learned behaviors/clear abuse.

The time away from my old job, though, and spending that time with my husband, moving on despite the poor things happening with my supervisor and friends, started to bring something out. Something strange.

It was stronger due to the drugs, but I recognized it. It was me, and I couldn't think of a name at the time, but I knew it wasn't me. It needed a name. It was the parts of me I lost due to the man hurting me. Sometimes she was alone, other times I felt complete, I knew I was Venia. Venia was easier to name, I just had to find something realistic and familiar I could be called, as me, the whole me. It's just my name, simple enough. So, it's my name. Venia. I've always been Kin from some old username I made. Might as well go with my name for, me.

Vea named herself, apparently just spelling what she was always "called" anyway, "V". Our initial. It was cute. It was nice. It was like her.

I came out as Venia pretty quickly to my friends, slowly introducing them to the idea of the people in my head. It was just as new to me as them. They were understanding, and nice, and accepting. It was nice.

Vea was so nice, and Ven could identify so many problem aspects in our life, during our time together. I remember the hard decision to leave one of my friends, but Ven decided it was particularly easy when she stopped us from splitting on them, and blocking them instead. She knew we fell into a cycle, victims to the people in our head, victims to whoever was hurting us. For me, my supervisor. We were just fulfilling some cycle of abuse, while not even being abusers ourselves. Strange cycle of self victimization. It makes more sense how abusers come about. We've both been to therapy sense, and I couldn't be more proud that they're out there somewhere, breaking such cycles too.

Dealing with this cycle, I learned I didn't have to abide by the rules of these people in our heads. My mom, or my friend/their wrong assumptions. I could continue to be me, and say what I mean only. I didn't have to be victim anymore to what people said I did, I could apologize for what I did, and say what I meant, and not be held accountable for the bad. I didn't mean the bad. I mean, I guess if it was some big bad, I would be fine being held accountable, but a misunderstanding? Other people's wrong assumptions/the intrusive thoughts in their heads? No. It wasn't me.

They really helped me learn such a thing. They were so mature and managed to get such help themself, at a young age, without the intervention of being hurt the way I was to get it. I was so happy for them, I'm still so happy for them.

And the best part, was my coworkers getting verbal and then written warnings around the time I ended that friendship, they got written up for their horrid actions and words to me. I had learn how to control myself better, and they were stopped for now. This was when I hurt my hand, March? April? This year. All this text covered about a year from start to this point.

The rest of this time, was sad, knowing I was in some of a cycle with one more friend, the other similar to me and this other I had to cut off. They didn't do as well with my changes and efforts. They seemed to be angrier every time I felt I was making progress. They almost seemed to be aggressive in any interaction with me. I thought maybe they were just like that with everyone, and moved on. They once even told me I shouldn't think that, and so I just ignored it.

Ah, I had felt Ven and Vea take over a few times writing, and I feel myself fully back writing this part. It's difficult.

It was coming to a peak recently, and I kept trying to stay away from them, let them say what they want, and just keep extending kindness. I got the feeling they didn't realize they were victim to their intrusive thoughts or self victimization too, but at the end of that all, it's not like they had no reason to be that scared. I had fucked up so badly once, I was thankful they could try to get past it, but seemed it only fueled their intrusive thoughts. A fuck up that really made me want to change, that made me aware I suffered splitting and intrusive thoughts in the first place.

How could I ever comfort them or take poor thoughts away, when I was more than a poor thought? It wasn't my place. They tried their best. Which, is something I can say about my other friend too, and well, me.

In the end, when they were acting up again, and it fueled my own delusions, I just blocked them anyway. Seems to be a theme, I know not to fall to my delusions, or intrusive thoughts. Venia blocked this friend because she was intensely worried about the last post this friend made. She had every right to, it brought three days now of memories. It's too much, my mom, the animals, it's more than I can take at times, and I wish I hadn't even looked. I was curious, but trusted Venia's decision.

I should have trusted it more.

For some reason, it feels like I could breathe again though. Free of the last one who was holding me accountable for the horrible things I did, and now I can truly move on. I can recover more, I can be happy, I don't have to worry about hurting them more.

There's a tightness in my chest, but a hope. I could scream, I want to scream, something mournful to express how bad it felt to hurt them, and express how good it is I can't hurt them anymore. How could I truly express that? They were who I hurt that made me want to change. They were who made me see I needed to improve, even if I wasn't truly a monster. The things I did were insensitive, at best, and I couldn't understand why people would still "be hurt" after I said "no i didn't i did this", it was because in their eyes, it is denying it, rather "i didn't *mean* to, i am so sorry that's how it came out/i am so sorry i did that, i meant *this* with that action" and learning how to better express it next time, so i don't hurt them. then again, it's a two way street. The reason it was easier to self improve for the other, they communicated with me. This one never did.

It's understanding and communication on both sides. It's often understanding on both sides.

I met someone who taught me how to, rather. I could write a post this long, or longer, with detail of them, but probably best I don't.

I don't know anything anymore, I'm rambling, it's alright though.

I learned a lot this last year, and while I had to somehow figure out the people in my head, place it all together, I met some extraordinary people. I met two people who became friends, and who I fell into cycles with, and because they're just two victims too, it ended... So much better than others in my life.

Ended with the most maturity that both sides could manage each side each time, and I never felt so... Lovely when losing people before. We tried, we talked, we changed, we all worked together. Sure I might say there was a lack of x or x in some areas, but it's hardly the main problem. I hurt them somewhere, I did, it's not some side thing, I did hurt them. Unlike my supervisor, who literally made me a victim. There's a difference. I was happy that I could separate them from that role the whole time.

I'm happy I got better when losing the last one, I hope I continue the trend. I'm happy the first one got better, I hope the second one continues the trend. I'm so happy we all tried, even if we couldn't succeed together, I'm so happy we all get to recover, I'm happy I get to remember two good people who... Tried. Who were my friends, who have their own lives, their own battles and demons, their own successes and dreams. I won't get to be a part of their futures, but the lessons I've learned I'll carry with me forever. Important lessons. Lessons they helped me be aware of or even start that I needed.

I learned I could be me, not the people everyone tries to insist I am. Only I get to say who I am, I get to act out who I am, I get to practice my advice and be me. I get to relate to others, I get to tell them my thoughts and feelings, and they get to accept them, and if they don't I just move on. It's no skin off my back. Even in my worst moments I know to pull back more. Then again, a lot of my improvement is my sobriety. Lacking currently, day 3 of my amazing binge. That means my 72 hours is a end and I should probably listen to that... I'm feeling so good I might as well. I say in a high moment. ;P

[ineedtobeheardnotseen]

Well the propranolol works like a charm

Even though my depression has reached abysmal depths, I have very little anxiety

Which is great, because the anxiety is the part that makes me want to kill myself

The depression just makes me want to make decisions that will bomb my life

Like quitting my easy, steady job

It's hard not to view my job as the enemy even though I work for a government service that helps kids and families

After all, they still force us to work a full 40 hours per week on a regular 8-5 schedule, which scientists have repeatedly established is basically torture

I think I need to stop watching or reading the news for the sake of my own health because it doesn't help

My depression really just makes me tired and clouds my thoughts, it's all the awful news that makes me feel hopeless on top of it all

I read something about the fact that earth's water cycle is being disrupted, and the article was framed in such a way that it only really talked about the financial repercussions of such a thing, such as the impact on various countries' GDP and the agricultural industry

It said virtually nothing about how rising prices of both food and water due to this scarcity will impact communities and add to our suffering

Because the people who could fix this problem don't care about that

But honestly, presenting it the way the writers did just makes the situation look ideal to people who have stock and interest in water and agriculture because they will be able to raise prices and quote this article as an excuse

It's not going to drive them to make any sweeping and emergency policy changes

Rich people are playing a game of elimination, the point is to destroy as many of their peers as possible and steal their resources until there's only one man left holding all of the cards

The increasing disasters of earth only speed the game closer to its eventual conclusion

Those of us that aren't viewed as competitors in the game are instead viewed as managed resources, expended or conserved by our owners only as necessary to defeat other players in this game

They aren't kidding when they call capitalism a death cult

And we're powerless to stop them without risking both our lives and the lives of our loved ones

All we can do is live our day-to-day and hope for small joys to outweigh our suffering

You can imagine how thinking about all of that might impact my depression

It's Sunday

I have tomorrow morning off, and I'm supposed to go back into work for the afternoon

I hate going into work depressed, but I need to get used to it

My job is easy, my coworkers are kind, and I have plenty of opportunities to rest

I just have to do what I need to in order to get through each day

A friend is coming from out of state to visit me at the end of the month

A family member from out of the country is coming to see me at the beginning of next month

I have enough to look forward to, just gotta manage my mood in the meantime

[fleshconsuminggod]

In an hour, it'll be day 13 without succumbing to urges

Day 12 fucking sucked

I wanted to drink, so bad, since noon

Smoking went over my head completely, no urges

I even had urges to self-harm, and thoughts of more have popped up on me since the day withdrawals started

But my gods, the daydreams of him...

My head in his lap, on his shoulder

Looking into his eyes before I kiss him

Running my hands through his gorgeous hair

Laying down next to him

His hand engulfing mine when we walk next to each other

His laugh still playing in my head, his words and his actions showing me safety

Remembering that he's the only person who feels safe to me

We're in the same room, and I keep telling myself it's okay, but we're miles apart

There's no closing that distance, because it's going to hurt more to close it than it does to stay away

My pain is not greater than his, especially when I'm the one who caused it, and ESPECIALLY when the way to "fix" the pain is far from a fix at all. It's manipulative. It's using him.

Now, dear therapist, is it the pain of being away from him? Or the pain of being alone?

Because I'm always going to be alone. I've said it my whole life, hell I remember thinking this as young as the 7th grade, "I am in a giant group of people, but I am alone. I am surrounded by friends, family, fellow students, but I am alone." Some things do not change, and that is one of them. They keep telling me I'm part of a community at school, but I'm the outsider looking in. At work, people I met a few hours prior start calling me their friend. I have multiplr friends outside of work, I have neighbors, I have a close knit family and extended family dynamic: I see my family EVERY day, my extended family once a week. I am welcomed with open arms, and accepted for who I am among all of them, to appropriate degrees (aka having good boundaries w/ coworkers, letting family in closer...). But he's the only one that feels safe, like home, like he's the only one who truly loves me and accepts me.

He's RIGHT THERE. I think of him and my chest blooms: joy, safe, home, love. He lives in my chest with me, he knows me better than any other human could dream. When I say this man owns my heart, I mean it, he feels like a positive physical presence in my chest. Eloquent, truly.

It explains the jealousy..

When he's helping someone else, when he can talk them down and help them calm down, it's JEALOUSY that erupts, and I tell myself it's a good thing. I tell myself to see it for the beauty it is, what I've admired so much about him, his ability and willingness to do just that.

But I get jealous, cuz even that modicum of time, feels like enough time that he wouldn't come back to me. That he would get sick of me. That he wouldn't stand to be around me anymore, because that's all I do anyways, take. Take all I can. Break down on him, crying, like tonight and so many nights before, because he's safe, and he won't hurt me for being vulnerable. He's okay with me being vulnerable.

I get jealous because I see MY safe person, and I see the look that people give him when he's saying the right things (he's great at what he does)....and it's the look I gave him. It's how I feel around him, pathetic and small and like it's okay to be so. Like he loves me despite being pathetic and small. And other people find that comfort in him too, and it drives me crazy, because what if he chooses them instead of me? What if he leaves, and never comes back?

And then, what if, the sickest joke of all? You did it to yourself, dude. If he never comes back now, it's on you. You broke his fucking heart too many times in too many fucked up ways.

Then, what's the point? What's the point. You built a family, only to tear it down. You built a relationship, only to break it. You found a home, and built a life, and now you're waking up to smell the roses.

If he never comes back, if he never can, it's your fault.