#can u believe i drew these on the shower wall

[sunflowercider]

Tossing these fic sketches onto tumblr to keep them for myself but allowing me to toss the paper finally lol

[novamirmirsblog]

No more bed

Word count: 2113

Genre: Not actually sure :3

Request: No

Warnings: Swearing, kissing?

A/N that's the end of the only one bed trope. Technically requests are now closed but if you think of another overused trope you want me to write then feel free to send it in!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You didn't eat that night and went straight to bed when you got too tired to focus on the words. You had made sure the pillow wall was twice the size it was to begin with. You turned off your light when you heard Natasha's footsteps come to the door, turning your back to her and pretending to be asleep. Your breaths were deep and completely even, there was no way Natasha could have guessed you were still awake. You felt her hesitate over you and the smell of reheated food invaded your nose and then heard her walk away.

The words she said back in that forest shouldn't have hurt you as much but they did. You shouldn't care what she thinks. It doesn't matter that she doesn't believe in your skills as an agent, that she doesn't think you're pretty enough to grab someone's attention.

If Natasha thought the bickering and coolness was bad at the start of the week, she was in for a shock. When she finally came back to that tiny, godforsaken bed and did her usual trick of sliding her foot over the pillow wall, you got up, took a pillow and the spare blanket and went to sleep on the rug in the living room.

When morning rolled around, you couldn't even be bothered to talk to her, focusing much more on the task ahead, just wanting this week to be over. It wasn't even the hurt you were feeling, it was the frustration that you felt hurt that drove you to stop talking to her. You hated her. She was annoying. She had no respect for anything anyone does.

You spent most the day preparing for the party that evening. Sure, it shouldn't take you over half a day to get ready but you had finished your paperwork early and you wanted to try on every single dress and suit SHIELD had supplied you with. You ended up choosing a navy blue, off the shoulder ball gown. Thinking logistically, it was quite possibly one of the worst things you could have worn. A pantsuit would have been a much more suitable choice and yet you looked and - more importantly - felt hot in the dress.

~~~~~

"You're not seriously wearing that are you?" Natasha asked as we both began to change into our formal wear. She had let you splurge out on a taxi but only after you had to walk what felt like 500 miles so no one would know where you were staying.

"Why not?" You asked with a fakeness in your voice "It's a no contact mission, plus, no one would look at me anyway, right?"

"Y/n, that's not what I-"

"Oh look. We're here." You get out the cab before Natasha can finish what she's saying.

Ivan might be an evil person, but he sure does know how to throw a party. It was elegant and high class and he made his way over to you as soon as he saw you. You had both agreed that you would keep him distracted while Natasha grabbed the relevant information.

"Dorogaya, u tebya poluchilos!" (Darling, you made it!) Ivan opened his arms wide, grabbed you by the shoulders and placed a kiss on both of your cheeks.

"Konechno, kak ya mog ignorirovat' takuyu ​​zagadku?" (Of course, how could I ignore something so mysterious?) You laughed and he moved his arm to around your waist.

"Prikhodite, prikhodite, yest' lyudi, kotorykh vy dolzhny vstretit'" (Come, come, there are people you should meet)

~~~~~

Ivan spent most the night introducing you to different 'modelling' agencies. You knew what he was doing, he was showing you off to potential buyers. Ivan ran a human trafficking ring along with some other not so nice business. You weren't worried - not in the slightest. Although, as the night drew on and Natasha still hadn't said anything, you were getting a little more... concerned.

You managed to excuse yourself to the bathroom. Once inside, you tapped the earpiece repeatedly, praying Natasha would answer you.

"Romanoff where are you? Have you got the data?"

Silence

"Seriously, I'm sorry I've been ignoring you but this is childish now."

More silence

"I'll let you have the bed?"

Static rang out in your ear.

Of course SHIELD gave you a crappy ear piece. It was ridiculous. They provided you with three million dresses but couldn't give you a working piece of tech.

Just as you pulled out the burner phone, you felt a needle slide into your neck and the world went black.

~~~~~

"Y/n I have the data."

Nothing. Maybe you were still mad at her.

"Y/n do you copy?"

Still nothing.

"Y/n?"

Natasha's heart beat a little faster.

"Come on Y/n. I'm sorry. I'll let you have the bed?" Her burner phone pinged. It was your location. Shit.

~~~~~

You woke up and looked around, seeing that you were in the rundown hideout, you put your head back on the pillow. Everything felt heavy.

"You were drugged." Natasha states, standing in the corner of the room, her arms crossed and eyes never leaving you.

"Oh." It was all you could muster up the energy to say.

"We leave tomorrow morning."

You push yourself up into a sitting position. "How long was I out?"

"3 hours."

You looked at Natasha, really looked at her. "Then why are you still covered in blood?"

Everything of Natasha's had some kind of bloodstain. She hadn't even washed her hands. It may have been dark in the corner she was standing in, having only the side lamp to illuminate the room, but her skin seemingly glowed, making the blood stand out.

She turned around and left, heading towards the bathroom. You wanted to get up to follow her but while your mouth worked again, your legs did not. Apparently whatever they used on you was a lot stronger than you thought because you fell out of the bed. Again. Natasha rushed out, getting to you in an instant, except this time there were no sly remarks.

"Careful princess, people might think you care." You grin, only for it to drop immediately when you saw a slight wetness to the corners of her eyes. "Hey, it's okay." You said softly. If she wasn't as close to you, Natasha would have missed it.

"I didn't know where you were. I-I thought you had gone off to try and prove something and then I saw you lying there, in some basement Ivan had. You-you looked so... dead."

"But I'm not." you reached up and gingerly stroked her hair, not wanting to spook her. "And look!" You gestured to your toes that were wiggling "I can feel my legs again!"

Natasha let out a slightly wet laugh. "I'm really sorry."

"For what? These things happen all the time. Although I will say, you seem to be unlucky because my missions always go wrong with you." You nudged her shoulder, crossing your legs so you faced her, both of you still on the floor.

"For making you think you weren't attractive. For basically drugging you myself."

"Don't be ridiculous Natasha. You didn't drug me."

"I might as well have done! If I had just agreed with you instead of fighting you, then you wouldn't have felt like you had to prove anything."

"You think I'm attractive?"

"Seriously? That's what we're choosing to focus on now."

"Umm yes? I know it wasn't your fault at all but now I want to hear about how attractive I am." You smirked and Natasha stood up abruptly.

"I'm having a shower."

"Is that a nice cold shower for you to try to get over me?" You shouted as she slammed the door shut.

~~~~~

Natasha came out of the shower half an hour later, towel drying her hair.

"I think you're attractive too." You whispered out, half hoping Natasha wouldn't hear it.

She stilled. Looking at you, trying to see if you were lying.

"Then why do you hate me?"

"I don't think I do. Not anymore."

Natasha stayed silent, encouraging you to continue.

"I didn't like the avengers in general. You guys all act like you're so much better than us. You get all the perks of looking good and none of the paperwork. You don't know the amount of times I've seen top level agents filling out avenger paperwork when they should be out in the field. I thought you were all lazy but spending this week with you... well it made me realise that maybe you're not all that bad."

Natasha had moved herself to the bed, just watching you speak. You looked over to her, signalling that you had finished all that you wanted to say.

"I'm sorry I ever made you doubt yourself. I'll talk to the team about actually doing their paperwork. Who's the worst?" She asked, curiosity laced in her tone

"Steve."

Natasha let out a full blown laugh at that. "Wait seriously?"

"Yup. I see him all the time, constantly trying to offload his paperwork to someone else. I always thought it would be Tony but it's definitely Steve, then Bruce. Then it's probably Tony."

"I promise I'll try to make them stop."

"I wouldn't make promises you can't keep." You laughed.

"Why...why did you doubt me?" You asked, a little more serious than before.

"It's not that I doubted you... I guess I just didn't like the way you spoke to Ivan..."

"You mean the flirting?"

"Maybe..."

You sat in silence for a bit, you couldn't figure out why. It's not like it was against any rules and it all worked in your favour. Then, it clicked.

"Natasha Romanoff were you jealous!" You let out a slight gasp and grinned at her.

"No. No of course not." Natasha got defensive. There was no way she was jealous of that old, wrinkly, nasty smelling man.

"Aww princess!" You adjusted yourself so you were completely facing her. "I can flirt with you too if you want." Your voice got slightly lower and your eyelids dropped a fraction, making your pupils seem bigger. While you raised your voice a few octaves for Ivan, you knew that to seduce a woman you had to lower it a little.

"Stop it." Natasha hit you.

"But why baby?" You grabbed her chin and tilted her face towards you. "Now you don't have to be jealous." You sent her a wink and let her chin go, watching as her eyes got a little darker.

"Go away. I want nothing to do with you or your terrible flirting."

"You say my flirting is terrible" Your voice now back to normal, "But your body is saying something different."

"Wrong. My body is saying nothing."

"No?"

No."

"Okay then! Night night princess." You leant over to switch off the light when Natasha grabbed your arm, causing you to look back over to her.

"Calling me princess... it - ugh... well it -" Natasha looked conflicted before glancing up to you, looking at your lips and kissing you.

You were shocked. You knew you shouldn't have been. All the signs were there and you were a very good flirt but actually feeling her lips on yours made your brain short-circuit. You kissed her back and climbed into her lap.

"We're not doing it here." You said when you both broke the kiss

"Why not?" Natasha looked at you, her hands running all over you.

"Because I'm 90% sure there are rats and I really don't want to catch something"

Natasha laughed and kissed you a little more. "Fair enough. We should stop this now then."

You kissed her neck. "Yes. We should definitely stop now."

~~~~~

Just before you were due to leave, you called Natasha into the bedroom.

"Y/n, we have to go."

"I know I know but watch." You bounced excitedly as you threw a match at the bed.

"Y/n what the hell!?"

"Well, if you remember correctly, I said that if you crossed the pillow divide, I would burn the bed with you in it. As you can see, I'm generously leaving you out of the bed. You're welcome."

Natasha just looked at you. "I can't believe I like you."

"Aww you like me? That's kind of embarrassing for you." You laughed as you linked arms with her, walking to the jet, but not before Natasha convinced you to put out the fire on the bed.

You watched as the fire fizzled out and silently thanked that damn bed for bringing you and Natasha closer. Literally. It didn't mean you weren't going to have a long chat with Fury about proper size beds though.

[yandere-sins]

Idk If you have rules cuz I can't seem to find it but Osamu(Haikyuu) as mafia(if ur not comfy then you can ignore this part) who Kidnapped u and is obsessed(the "I'd rip out my heart for you" type of obsessed) who would literally do anything for you😋and puts you always first before anyone else🗿a soft yandere but will k!ll anyone who gets near you type so Osamu being possesive of you🤩

Nope! No rules, there aren’t enough people who care for them and I don’t want to stress about it anymore. If I don’t like a request, I just delete it. I prefer Yakuza over Mafia, hope you don’t mind! Thanks for requesting, enjoy ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

Even the careful Osamu couldn’t keep you from stirring in your sleep as he opened the door to the apartment. This was probably the first night ever you had been able to fall asleep in peace, and yet, you sat up while he tiptoed through the hallway towards the only room you two shared. Rubbing your eyes, you heard a soft gasp, making you look up.

“Didn’t mean to wake ya...” Osamu grumbled before stepping into the room fully, walking over to the mini-fridge he kept stocked with basic food like rice balls and ice cream in the freezer compartment. The light briefly illuminated his body, showing you a sight you didn’t want to see while he restocked some food in the fridge, either unaware or indifferent about his looks.

You looked away, biting your lips. It had all started out innocently enough, your father paying a Yakuza to keep you safe while there were some even worse guys after him. Even if the arrangement had been strange, especially after he - Osamu - moved into a small, one-room apartment with you, basically just sticking around and rarely leaving, by now, it was more than just a nightmare.

How long had it been since you last left the apartment? Almost a month now? Osamu took you for a walk once or twice, returning after mere ten minutes and stating it was too dangerous. However, whenever he did leave, he returned bloody and dirty. Frankly, you were too afraid to ask what happened, but the secrecy between you two wasn’t helping in soothing your mind.

In the beginning, you still had been hopeful that the matter would resolve quickly and you could go back to your normal life. But apparently, it just kept dragging on, Osamu only ever stating that it wasn’t over yet. Even your dad stopped responding to your messages, asking if he was okay, by now, and you were nothing but worried about him. Now, you just wondered how many more days you’d have to spend with this guy that you still considered to be a total stranger.

Gripping your blanket tightly, it took you a lot of courage to speak up, but the situation was awkward as it is, there was nothing you could do to mess it up more. “Are you okay?” you asked carefully, hoping you weren’t overstepping your boundaries. His hand stopped, and he glanced back over his shoulder at you, simply staring for a moment before turning back to finish his task.

“Yeah, just a rough night.”

“Then... are you hurt?” you continued, feeling relieved after hearing his casual answer.

“Why? Ya worried about me?” Only being able to see his side profile over his shoulder, you noticed him smile - presumably for the first time ever that you knew him. “I-I mean!” you stuttered, twiddling your thumbs as you felt flustered. It wasn’t actually that bad talking to him; he actually had a hint of a joke in his voice as he spoke with you, even if you only ever perceived him as a mean-looking fellow with a bad career choice.

“It would be bad if something happened and you were injured...”

A soft chuckle fell off his lips, and you presumed he must have been tired if you actually managed to make him laugh. Either that, or you had to admit he wasn’t half as bad as you thought him to be. Closing the fridge - and with it, the only light in the room - you heard him groan as he stood up. However, even if he tried, his footsteps were audible because of his muscular build, especially as they drew closer.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” he assured you, plopping down on your bed. “I got it all under control, promise.”

“If you say so...” Pulling in your legs, you made some space, prompting him to lean back, and the smell of blood and dirt made its way to your nose. “So... not your blood?”

There was a certain risk in asking this, but you were awake now and, for the first time, had a conversation with him. “Nope,” he casually admitted, and it brought back some of the fears you first had when he was introduced to you. Mainly that he had already become numb towards violence. “Hey...” Osamu tore you out of your thoughts quickly as he spoke up first, noticing your silence.

“Has anyone been bothering you lately? Talked to some bad eggs on your phone?”

Blinking a few times, you delayed your response, nervously glancing at your phone. It was true that after you had to go undercover, you had quite a few arguments with your boyfriend and friends. They wouldn’t understand why you’d ghost them and avoid their questions about your whereabouts. “Not really?” you mumbled, unsure if he’d be interested in that kind of complaint from you. After all, they were more or less just relationship problems, and you two weren’t close in any way.

“I see,” he curtly replied, silence falling between you two until he sighed, sitting up straight again. “After you fell asleep, there was a guy outside to room. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the knocks, but I guess you were tired for a change.”

Immediately, you tensed up. Worried about the sudden revelation about a visitor, you didn’t even mind his last comment, revealing he had been aware and watching you as you had struggled to sleep the last few weeks in his presence. “W-Who was it?” you questioned, scared of hearing that you had been found out and you’d have to leave soon and hide somewhere else.

“Don’t know him. He got very agitated when he saw me and tried to get into the apartment, but I couldn’t let him, of course.”

Ears peeking up, you almost jumped out of bed as you leaned forward, intrigued by what Osamu was telling you. “And? What happened?” you pushed for a continuation.

“Nothing special. Told him he can’t get in and to leave. But he was one persistent bastard, yelling weird stuff like he was your boyfriend and he loved you and should be able to see you. These things.”

“W-Wait! What do you mean it was my boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me! I could have confirmed it! I’d really have liked... to see him...”

Shoulders slumping in disappointment, any fear of being found out was now turned into sadness, knowing you had been asleep while a vital piece of your life and of ‘normality’ had been so close. “Ridiculous, as if I could just let anyone come and claim he knew ya,” Osamu grumbled, and the heaviness of your situation returned back to you. Of course, he couldn’t allow the risk of someone hurting you after everything you two went through already.

“He did ask me to give you something, though,” Osamu seemed to suddenly remember, contemplatively. “What is it?” you inquired, hoping that maybe it really had been your boyfriend after all, and perhaps he brought you something to help you through these challenging times.

But instead, you were met with two fingers around your chin, pulling you in closely until you felt Osamu’s breath against your mouth. Much too late did you understand the intention, his lips kissing yours gently yet longingly. You felt an immediate gut-wrenching response, tearing away repulsed by the actions of your guard. Pushing him away, you rubbed off the feeling of his lips on yours with the back of your hand, spluttering, “What are you doing?!” while you tried not to feel sicker as the smell of iron reached your nose.

“Ya know,” Osamu continued, his tone indifferent, but you could hear the smile on his lips. “I’m just repaying my debt to him. There’s no ‘being too safe’, but I guess you really did matter a lot to him. He kept crying and telling me he loved ya.”

“Why didn’t you just wake me up to confirm it then?” By now, you felt the pain of your boyfriend, worried sick about you, and then faced with someone like Osamu as his only clue. “Are you kidding?” was all that the Yakuza responded. Getting up, he stretched audibly.

“I beat him to a pulp and took care of him and his phone with the tracking app.”

What?

“H-How could you...?!” was the only thing you could stutter.

“Yeah, he won’t bother you anymore. I know you two have been fighting lately.”

“Excuse me?”

Walking over to the entrance to the bath, Osamu flipped on the light before looking back at you. Dreadful splatters of blood were all over his face, even more than you had seen before. His knuckles seemed to be straight out of a horror movie, and the black clothes he wore had dark, firm spots on them.

And yet, he smiled at you affectionately.

“As if I’d let anyone put a frown on ya cute face, Babe. Doesn’t matter who, I’ll protect you from anyone trying to get close and hurt you. I told ya, didn’t I? I’ve got everything under control.”

With that, he entered the bath, and you heard the familiar sound of the shower. Confused but mostly worried, you threw back the blanket and hopped out of bed with unsteady feet, racing to the front door. Sliding off the door chain, you pushed the handle, expecting it to open, but it wouldn’t budge.

The faint sound of a chuckle echoed from the bathroom, the walls thin as paper, much to your dismay. You didn’t want to believe it; even more, you wanted to see it. See that what Osamu described didn’t happen to someone so dear to you. You wanted to know that everything was okay. Know that the man you shared this locked apartment with wasn’t some kind of maniac going around killing people on ‘your behalf’.

But when you looked at your phone, you saw a message from your boyfriend, saying he tracked you down and would be coming to get you now. It had been read before you, even replied to, but you didn’t remember ever seeing it or replying to it at all. Especially not when the last message eerily read:

<< Waiting for you (:

[rebel-without-cause-x]

Please Wake Up

Jax Teller x Reader

Requested By: @minnicelli​ // hi! how are you? i would like to do a request for Jax with the prompts 5 & 10. Jax and the reader have a solid relationship but Jax is so full of club shit that he’s been distant and cold with her, they fight and she says all that’s bothering her in the situation and he doesn’t care much, until days after that she got into an accident (or kidnapped, something bad happens, it’s your choice) and he realize the shit he was doing. 5 “Wake up! Please wake up.” 10 “Do you even still love me?” thank u!

SOA Tag List; @chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams @mrspeacem1nusone @khyharah @itmejado @woahitslucyylu @beth-winchester21 @minnicelli @everyhowlmarksthedead @trulysuccubus

Another night spent alone curled up in front of the TV. You wanted nothing more than to spend the night curled up in your boyfriends arms but that hadn’t happened for a couple of months.

You knew shit was going off at the club and you weren't going to push things, but you didn’t know how long you could take it. You just felt lonely.

Hearing the front door close and the thud of Jax’s trainers on the hardwood floor, glancing up at the clock you realised that Jax was home before 11pm. Pushing yourself up off the sofa you padded into the kitchen to see Jax stood over the kitchen sink.

“Hey” you said softly leaning against the fridge.

“I’m not in the mood babe” Jax huffed looking out the window.

“You never are any more” you sighed “I know shit is getting tough with the club, I understand that but please stop shutting me out”

“You don’t know half of what’s going on” Jax snapped.

“Because you have been acting so distant baby” you sighed as tears clouded your vision. “I love you with all my heart but I don’t know how much I can take Jax”

He did turn around, just ran his hands through his hairs.

“Do you even still love me?” You whimpered “because right now I feel like I’m second best to everything”

“I can’t believe you just asked me that” Jax laughed.

You couldn’t believe it, his response, you knew it was because he was tired and stressed but it stung.

“Baby I know you are stressed, but it’s affecting me now, I’m constantly worried about you. You aren’t thinking straight because of this shit with the Irish. I don’t know the ins and outs of what’s going on but sooner or later I’m going to lose you, whether it’s from breaking up or even worse you dying” you said as a tear rolled down your cheek.

“I don’t wanna talk about this right now” Jax sighed walking out of the kitchen. You heard his heavy footsteps disappear upstairs followed by the sound of the shower. As much as you hated leaving him alone it was what was best. You both had a temper and the last thing you wanted was to start world war 3.

Yet again you woke up to an empty bed, Jax's side was cold and looked untouched, you knew just by looking he slept on the sofa. Your thoughts were confirmed when you saw the spare duvet and pillow bunched in the corner of the sofa and the house once again empty.

No morning cuddles in bed making you late for work, no morning kisses that left you wanting more, no morning coffee brewing. Just silence.

Like every morning for the past month, you showered, got dressed and headed off to work. However this morning it didn’t quite go that way. You had just finished getting dressed when you heard the sound of a window breaking downstairs.

Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to burst out your chest as you scurried round the room trying to find the spare gun Jax kept, in case of emergencies. You could hear him now giving you the big I told you so speech. But he wasn’t here and you were shit scared as you heard the sounds of footsteps coming upstairs alongside the sound of two Irish men.

“Fuck” you mumbled as you finally found the gun and retreating into the wardrobe. Reaching down to your pocket you realised your phone was on the kitchen table.

This was it you were going to die.

“She’s got to be around here somewhere” one of the men said as you heard the tear your room apart. It was then the doors of the wardrobe opened. “Found her”

“Get off me” you screamed fighting with everything you had but it was no use, he was a lot stronger than you.

A fist connected with your face causing you to whimper.

“Oh shut up bitch” the man laughed punching you again.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked as he literally dragged you out the house.

“Your old man took something of ours without paying for it so we are taking something of his” the other guy smirked as you were chucked in the back of a van.

You weren't a religious person but right now you found yourself praying to any and all of the gods.

“Somethings wrong” Jax sighed as he checked his phone.

It didn’t matter if you got in a fight or he was in a mood you would always text him just before you started work at 9, a text that showed you still cared for him even after he was acting cold. But he didn’t get that text this morning.

“Maybe she forgot her phone” juice shrugged and Jax nodded in agreement.

Pushing the thoughts aside they gathered round the table trying to decide what the best way to deal with the Irish was.

It was around 7pm when Jax pulled into the driveway, the hairs on the back of his neck standing. Everything in his body was telling him something was wrong and this was confirmed as he saw the glass on the front door shattered, your phone on the kitchen table and a couple of spots of blood on the cream carpet.

Running as fast as he could upstairs he took in the carnage that had happened just hours before. If only he had listened to his gut feeling first thing this morning.

Dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed, he held his head in his hands. It was in that moment he realised how he had been treating you, acting cold and distant yet you still stayed with him. His mind went back to the previous night when you voiced your concerns and he just shrugged them off, and slept on the sofa.

His heart dropped at the fact you probably thought he didn’t love you, as he didn’t exactly answer the question when you asked last night.

One thing was for sure, when he found you he had made a promise to himself never to treat you like he had over the last month or so.

- - -

The room was dark, cold and damp. You had no idea what time it was or how long you had been here or whether Jax was bothered that you were gone.

Leaning back against the wall your body ached from lying on the concrete floor. All you wanted to do was snuggle in the arms of your boyfriend, but you knew what wasn’t going to happen any soon.

You could hear voices but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying but you definitely heard Jax’s name mentioned a couple of times.

- - -

“This really isn’t helping Jax” Tig said, crouching in front of him as he sat with his back against the bed surrounded by the trashed room.

It had been 6 days since you got taken and every lead they had went cold. Which was why he was leaning against the bed getting high, he hadn’t slept or showered in days.

He didn’t say anything just carried on smoking the blunt, trying to forget, this was all his fault. If he hadn’t rushed out the house that morning he would have been there to protect you. He knew it was the Irish that had taken you but you could be anywhere now.

“Jax you need to see this” Juice came running into with a laptop.

Looking up at the screen he saw you laying on the floor. His heart broke just looking at it and it broke even more when Juice hit play.

“Jackson, as you can see she doesn’t have much left in her” Jimmy's voice laughed. “We warned you after you ambushed us and stole our guns we would get our payback”

“I always wondered how long the human body could go without food or drink and I guess I know the answer now”

Anger surged through Jax’s blood as he kept his eyes trained on you whimpering in the background, weakly calling his name.

“You have 3 days to return what you stole or I’m putting a bullet through her pretty little skull”

The video went black.

“Fucking Irish bastard” Jax roared pushing himself to his feet. Just seeing you still alive gave him a bit of hope.

- - -

“Trust me he won’t be returning the guns” Jimmy laughed crouching in front of you as he dragged his knife over your cheek.

You just felt so weak and numb, you just laid there as he cut you.

“If.. if you’re gonna kill me….just do it” you said weakly between coughs.

“There’s no fun in that now,” he smirked, removing the knife. “Jackson will regret trying to steal from us”

You had just gotten to the point of giving up, your body was so weak, you were so hungry and so thirsty it actually hurt. All you wanted was to tell Jax you love him, close your eyes and give up completely.

Time passed but you had no idea how long you had been stuck in this dingy basement, or if Jax was even trying to find you. The sounds of fun fire drew your attention to the ceiling, someone was here, you just needed to hold on a little bit longer, but you could feel your body slipping into the darkness.

All you could hear was Jax shouting his head off, followed by the sound of footsteps on the metal stairs.

He came to find you. You tried so hard to hold on but your body was too weak as you slipped into the darkness.

Without a second though Jax shot at the hinges of the door before kicking it down.

He didn’t think his heart could break anymore but it did, as soon as he saw you laying on the ground. Running over to you he couldn’t hold the tears back as he brushed some hair out of your face. He took in your appearance and sighed as he saw the cuts littering your soft skin, and the dried blood on your cheek.

One silver lining was he could feel your pulse, granted it was weak but it was still there. He knew he needed to get you medical attention and fast.

“Wake up!” He sobbed as he scooped you into his arms “Princess please wake up.”

[irwintry]

11 Reasons Not to Fall in Love

Warnings: swearing, mention of alcohol

Summary: Ashton is in love, and Y/N might be, too. There are a million reasons not to fall in love–– here are eleven.

Word Count: 6.7k

ONE: YOU MIGHT NOT EVEN KNOW IT

Ashton sprinted down the terminal.

His suitcase rattled behind him, the wheels sputtering as they hit the cracks in dirty tiles. And his shoulders ached from the weight of his bag carving into already-sore muscles. A pair of headphones had fallen from his pocket down near gate A3, but he hadn’t bothered to retrieve them. Not when his connecting flight had less than ten minutes until departure. Ashton couldn’t waste another minute apologizing to strangers for slamming into them during a moment of distraction.

Sweat accumulated under his arms and along his hairline. Long corridors awaited him, meanwhile, his lungs strained within his ribcage as he rounded corner after corner. He hadn’t remembered the airport being this large. Perhaps he had slipped into a Twilight Zone nightmare where every doorway led him to where he had once been. Time ticked away, and Ashton was too frantic to check the clock on his phone.

“Final boarding call for American Eagle flight 1683 for Los Angeles. Please make your way to gate D26. That is D for Delta. Again, this is a final boarding call for American Eagle flight 1683 for Los Angeles, located at gate D26. Thank you.”

“Shit,” Ashton spat, his knuckles curling in a firm grip around his duffle. The same duffle his mum gifted him nearly six years ago, yet it still worked like a charm. The duct tape held up well.

His feet skidded against the rug leading into gate D26. He opted out of the dramatics, slowing down his pace and walking calmly around the rows of seating before addressing the gate agents with a smile. They saw plenty of passengers like him–– late, damp, and a bit smelly as well. But that didn’t erase the scowls from their features. He sped down the jet bridge, dropped off his carry-on at the end, and boarded the plane with two minutes to spare.

“Hey, hi, sorry,” he mumbled to the flight attendants, but his breathy words hardly translated through his large gasps for air. It didn’t take him long to find his seat in first class. The large cushions enveloped him like an old friend. He sat back after placing his bag underneath the seat before him, and his eyes fell shut as a sigh left his lips.

Ashton’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

snail butt:

text me when u land!!!!!!

His cheeks burned. A smile stretched slowly on his cheeks, the kind of smile that wrote novels and lit up silver screens. It was a smile that could not be hidden no matter how hard he tried. Ashton’s stomach had been stuck with thousands of pins. And all it had taken was a single text from you.

“Only a fool who’s in love smiles like that.”

Ashton turned to face the person behind the voice, his eyes wide and watery as he shut off his phone. “Excuse me?”

The older man beside him chuckled. “I know a smile like that anywhere.”

“In love?” Ashton repeated, soon falling into laughter himself. “No, no, I’m not––”

The man winked and glanced away, but Ashton chose not to harp on a nonsensical conversation. Instead, he stared at the seat before him, mouth slightly ajar as he registered the older man’s words. Ashton had never been in love, at least he believed it to be so. He had no knowledge of the feeling. So, he rejected what he heard.

He spent the next few hours with his gaze locked on the clouds, wondering if what he felt for you was, perhaps, something a little like love.

TWO: IT’S ONE-SIDE

The lights had flushed out his skin. Every inch of it was warm and wet to the touch, a sensation he knew well but hadn’t quite gotten used to. Even after thousands of shows–– thousands of performances that kicked his adrenaline to new heights only to have it plummet by the time he made it to the showers. Ashton stood against the tiled walls and let the water pelt against his skin. The pressure was never how he liked it. And the water was never hot enough.

He liked to call you after shows. He liked to hear about your day. You told him about the customers that pissed you off and the ones that sweetly tipped you a little too much. You told him that Oatmeal had taken a poo in your bathtub again, and he’d laugh at the thought. He’d think about the faces you’d make, because while you’d be upset one moment, your anger never lasted long. You could never stay mad at your cat.

Ashton had yet to call you tonight. He sat on the bathroom floor instead, fingernails picking at scabs on his palms while the sounds of J. Tillman’s Cancer and Delirium echoed around the room. He didn’t have the option to sit much longer; they had to pack up and drive off to a new town overnight. He always thought about the what-ifs. What if he walked out right then and there? What if he left without saying goodbye? What if he hopped aboard a plane and moved to the other side of the world? What if he cut off all contact with everyone he knew? And, what if that included you?

The thing that scared him the most was the possibility of it all. He could do whatever he wanted. It was his life, his body, his mind–– he had the ability to walk away whenever he so pleased.

He had the ability to forget about you.

Ashton stared at your contact on his phone. A picture from your New Year’s Eve party faced him, your goofy, smiling face staring up at him, happiness permanently immortalized within a small circle. And he wasn’t sure what your contact name meant anymore–– it had been an inside joke from years before, but time stole the memory.

He could delete your number if he wanted. He could rid himself of the pain of loving you by losing you. He could end everything now.

Ashton called you instead.

“You’re eating away at my cellular data,” you said right away, and somehow, the sound of your voice always made him feel better. All of his previous thoughts melted away. “How was the show? How are your bloody hands?”

“Beaten t’hell,” he spoke, but his words felt lifeless. Ashton could no longer identify his exhaustion. He felt like a stale being, like the grimy tiles beneath his bum as he counted scratches on the bathroom mirror. “Tell me about your day.”

“Didn’t do much,” you replied. “Oh, but––“

You talked for a half-hour. About the dentist, about your cat, about the food you ate... and he listened with pleasure. He listened because it was the only thing keeping him from walking away. It kept him from wiping the slate clean.

And he wanted to. He didn’t want to love like this. It was one-sided, trivial in every aspect, and you had no idea how much it pained him to even think about you. His urge to leave it all behind grew larger every day.

You didn’t love him. You didn’t see him the way he saw you.

“Hey, bug,” he mumbled. You had been talking about a Tinder date, one that went oh so right, and Ashton gripped his thigh until he drew blood. His eyes screwed shut at the idea of you piled under bedsheets, arms tied around the neck of someone else. “’m gonna have t’let you go.”

“Aw,” you said.

He pictured your pout.

“Well, okay,” you continued. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Ashton forced a smile. He wished you could see the ache behind it. “Of course, doll. Love you.”

“Love you, too!”

J. Tillman’s voice filled the tile room once again. And Ashton sat wishing your words held meaning. He wished he could erase the casual and fill in sentimentality. Because he now knew what love was, and he knew you would never feel the same.

THREE: THEY LOVE SOMEONE ELSE

His kitchen faucet had been dripping for eleven days. The noise faded into the background, its constant drip, drip, drip like an unspoken rhythm to Ashton’s ears. He found himself tapping along and making up songs to the beat of these drips. They weren’t irksome–– not for the first eleven days.

He was lonely on the twelfth day. Beaten hands pushed back dirty and newly dyed dark strands of hair. Ashton hated looking at his appearance in his bathroom mirror. The dark circles were unfriendly, and he hadn’t seen his skin that sickly color before. He was malnourished at his own expense. And he was exhausted.

Tired of spending all of his nights staying up until four because being home felt like a prison. Tired of looking at pictures of you and your boyfriend while Ashton was stuck wallowing with a sore heart. A sore heart that failed to tell you how he felt sooner. Because now he saw your face when you were with him–– with your boyfriend, and you looked so happy. Ashton couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself.

It seemed as though everything was falling apart at once. The faucet, his relationship with you––or lack thereof, and suddenly his dishwasher was overflowing, and every meal he made he was burnt to a crisp. The twelfth day of his faucet leaking was the last straw.

But Ashton didn’t want to call a plumber. He took the matter into his own hands.

An hour later, he had flooded part of the kitchen and dented a pip with his wrench. The activity hadn’t gotten rid of stress or anger, and it certainly hadn’t distracted him from thoughts about you.

He sat back against his fridge, a few stray tears spilling down his cheeks while he avoided the ache in his spine. The leaking had only gotten worse, but Ashton decided he would worry about it on the fourteenth day. He wanted to curl up on his couch and stay there forever. He wanted to rot in his home (was it even his home?) and have everyone forget about him. To have you forget about him. He wanted to forget about you.

snail butt:

hey.

pls answer me

are u ok

Ashton kept the messages open on his phone, but he didn’t respond to them. He wasn’t touched by your concern right now. He felt numb, and he wanted to sink into the tiles and melt in with the puddled water. It wasn’t normal anymore–– to feel this way. He lost himself in the shape of his hands; they no longer looked like his hands. Did he even exist?

snail butt:

ash

can i call

His eyes narrowed. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to talk to you. You were the last person on the earth he wanted to talk to. All because he did want to tell you everything, but he knew he couldn’t. You had always been a constant in his life, and the reason you no longer were had fallen upon his shoulders. Because he had fallen in love when he never meant to in the first place.

Suddenly, you were calling him, and his fingers stayed still. His thumb didn’t move to answer the call.

This wasn’t who Ashton was. He always answered your call no matter where he was, no matter what time of day. His eyes brimmed with tears, yet they refused to spill. No one said love could be this painful. No one said it would be like this.

You called again, a contact picture of you in minion goggles popping up only to disappear a half minute later. Ashton knew he was worrying you. He felt the fear creeping up into your chest while you tapped “voice call” over and over, meanwhile mumbling a few frustrated words involving insults you never meant. You had sensed his change in behavior long ago. He didn’t blame you for forcing communication like this.

That was why he wanted to pack his things and leave sometimes. It was easier than convincing everyone that he was okay.

Ashton:

Hey sorry I missed your call

Can’t talk right now

Love you

FOUR: EVERYONE KNOWS BUT THEM

A familiar feeling filled Ashton’s stomach. It knotted and twisted, but it never loosened. His grip on his phone tightened with every word he read. Knuckles ached while his fingers dug into the metal siding, and tension soon collected in the hinge of his jaw.

This had been his night so far. Stuck in between tables and chairs in the middle of a bar while you texted him about your boyfriend. But Ashton wasn’t mad because of that. His anger boiled because your boyfriend had mistreated you, and Ashton was hearing every little bit about the story.

He believed that he was seconds away from breaking his phone altogether.

“Ashton.”

His head shot up, small curls falling over his eyes as his jaw clenched. A bunch of worried eyes faced him.

“You okay, mate?” asked Michael. His voice was hushed and full of a certain comfort that his friend needed to hear.

Ashton swallowed, and he could feel all of the individual muscles in his cheeks strain. The gray dots on his phone appeared again–– you had more to say. “’m fine,” he spoke. His eyes said otherwise. They were watery and wide, filled with an easily read emotion, yet he hoped his friends would avoid the conversation.

Luke hummed. “Sure.”

“Is she okay?” Michael set his drink down on the table before them.

The words sunk in Ashton’s chest. He appreciated their concern. He appreciated that they cared about you. But he didn’t want to talk about it–– he never did.

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Convincing.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” asked Ashton, voice raising in frustration while the sea of eyes blinked back in response. A cold silence met him, but the music in the bar carried on. He sighed. “Sorry. Fuck. Sorry.”

He gripped his forehead and wiped the sweat from his drink onto the table. His fingers trembled as he did so.

“Does she know how you feel?” Michael mumbled.

Ashton raised a brow. “Know how I–– what?” He began to laugh. He felt strange–– like anger was fighting with anxiety, and he knew he could no longer repress his feelings by this point.

“Ash.”

He turned to face Luke.

“It’s obvious,” said the blond. “We’re not stupid. We know you love her. We’ve known for the past like, six months.”

The frustration softened, and soon, Ashton deflated. His shoulders slumped as his frown deepened. “It’s obvious?” he whispered.

“Not that obvious,” Calum intervened. “You jus’–– you get really sad when you get feelings for someone.”

“I’m not––” Ashton straightened his spine. “I’m not sad. We’re fine. She’s fine. We’re both really fine.”

“I’ve never seen you guys this distant before,” Michael said.

“Friends grow apart.”

“Not like this.”

Ashton dug his fingernail into the wooden tabletop.

“Dude,” continued Michael. “You gotta tell her soon. It’s just gonna keep hurting if you don’t. And it’ll keep gettin’ worse and worse.”

“Or maybe it’ll hurt worse if I do tell her,” muttered Ashton.

“So, you do love her?” Luke asked.

Ashton waited a moment to answer. “Yeah.”

Silence washed over the group, and a beat later, Michael asked, “does she love you?”

Ashton stared at a neon sign in the distance. He could hear its buzzing from his seat. It gnawed at his eardrums and wedged itself under his skin. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “She doesn’t.”

FIVE: THEY ARE OBLIVIOUS TO YOUR PAIN

Ashton had been late to his own birthday party. He strolled in after forty minutes, heart heavy while he pushed through sweaty bodies that he hardly recognized. The stairs were his destination, and he could only fake so many smiles. He could only force empty hellos for so long before someone was bound to pull him aside. Their skin burned his.

Because it had been you, and every touch was a pain unlike any other.

“Hey, hey, birthday boy,” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “Miss me?”

Ashton stared at you in awe. Not because you looked stunning, which you did. You always did. But because he hadn’t seen you in four months. He had hardly spoken to you— he felt like he hardly knew you.

“Holy shit,” he muttered as he wracked his brain in search of something to say. Or rather, the right thing to say. Heat trickled up his neck and into his cheeks.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” you asked. The drink in your hand had hardly been touched. Meanwhile, your fingers toyed with the small plastic straw.

Ashton felt his smile grow. His stomach was on fire. “Yes— yeah. Give me a fucking hug.”

Your arms wrapped themselves around his torso, your head burying into his shoulder while he tried to memorize the feeling of you against him. He missed being held by you. It came with a sense of belonging–– like he was always meant to be here.

“Did Michael fly you in?” asked Ashton, and meanwhile, he kept his hands on your upper arms. His gaze on you was intense–– that he knew, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Had you always looked that beautiful?

You shook your head. “Wanted to surprise you myself.” A smile grew on your lips.

Ashton smiled as well, but it ached to falter. He just wanted to be happy around you.

The drinks poured on, night crawling with sweat and glitter and everything Ashton had wanted to avoid. As the hours passed, you stuck to him like glue. And the more alcohol in your system, the more you kept your hands on him. Unsteady fingers scraped down his arms whenever a good song came on through the speaker. You were in constant movement, and all Ashton saw was a gaussian blur of colors and smiles.

He locked himself in the upstairs bathroom.

He sat there for at least an hour, knuckles drumming against polished tile while the bass reverberated through the floor. It had been months since his last interaction with you–– he never knew when he would see you next. And then you were dancing with his friends, mind elsewhere while you tried to forget about the dried tears over your ex-boyfriend. You were swaying and laughing, looking like an angel kissed you just that morning, and he hadn’t been ready for any of it.

In all honesty, Ashton would have preferred not seeing you at all. Your presence taunted him. It reminded him of all of the mistakes he made, and it reminded him that you would never love him the way he loved you.

Before leaving the bathroom, he washed his face. He washed away the past couple of hours in order to prepare for the next few. In order to see you again, he had to forget all of his feelings for the night.

But he couldn’t. He barely took a step downstairs before retreating to his bedroom. It was his own birthday–– he could be miserable if he wanted to be. Did he even want to be?

Ashton changed into a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. He could still hear the music through the floorboards, but it no longer bothered him. His phone remained silent with no phone calls or texts asking where he was. And then the door opened, and you walked in.

“Uh oh,” you said. “Birthday boy went missing.”

“You found him.”

You smiled softly. “You okay?”

Ashton shrugged. “Tired, s’all.”

You kept your arms crossed as you looked at him. He felt like you were analyzing everything about him. Perhaps you could read minds. Perhaps you already knew how he felt about you.

“Ya wanna sit?” he asked you, motioning to the empty spot next to him on his bed.

Your smile grew. “Duh.” You rushed over, flopped down against the comforter, and nestled into him. He hadn’t expected that last part. “Missed you,” you mumbled against his shirt, and your arm twisted around his. You were warm–– it was a good warmth.

“Missed you, too, bug,” he whispered. He leaned back against the pillows and took your body with him.

You hummed. A comfortable silence settled in, albeit the soft music from down below, and all Ashton could feel was you. He felt your skin, your heartbeat, your smile... He felt the happiness he had been looking for since the night began. This was why he needed you.

You turned to look at him. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

Ashton raised an eyebrow at you.

“We’ve been friends for like ten years,” you said. “I’ve even kissed Luke. Why haven’t I kissed you?”

“You kissed Luke?”

You pressed your palm against Ashton’s chest. “Should we kiss?”

“I don’t think––“

“We haven’t even tried it.”

Ashton shrugged. His heart rate had doubled, and the temperature in the room spiked. “Yeah, well...”

“Do you wanna?” you asked.

His limbs felt numb as he sat up. “Maybe now’s not the best time, bug.”

“Oh.”

Ashton wiped his hands against his thighs, and when he looked over at you, a pout had found its way onto your face. The soft light from his bedside lamp reflected in your watery eyes and in the moisture on your lips. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Shit.

“Why do you wanna kiss me so bad?” he mumbled.

You glanced down. “I’ve always wanted t’kiss you,” you said. You looked back up at him, and he saw something in your eyes that he had never seen before.

It gave him hope.

He nodded, swallowing thickly while he fought back conflicting thoughts. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”

Ashton nodded once again. “Yeah. We can–– we can try it.” He squeezed his eyes shut, meanwhile wishing he had let the whole thing slide. He wished he could turn back time and never let himself feel like this.

But then you smiled, and he thought that, maybe, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He didn’t get the chance to think about anything else before you pressed your lips to his. It was quick, almost as if it had never happened. You moved away slowly, and he nearly pulled you back.

“Well,” you whispered, chuckling once more. The heat of your breath met his skin. With your arms still around his shoulders, you looked at him like he was the most beautiful thing you had laid eyes upon.

He wanted to believe it.

“Well,” he said in return. A small smile grew on his lips. He hardly remembered the kiss, but he knew he needed more. So, he placed his arms around your waist.

You leaned in again, this time capturing his lips gently between yours, but he held you close.

And then he pulled away. He pulled away because it meant too much to him. He pulled away because it didn’t mean anything to you.

SIX: NO ONE WILL EVER BE THEM

Ashton’s hands were numb.

The sun had only begun to rise. Its golden hue cast long rays through his blinds, the light taking shape and giving the dust a chance to shine. The colors washed against her back, but he wasn’t looking at that. He didn’t want to look at her.

He arose slowly, careful not to wake her before making his way to the bathroom. He kept his shower brief, and soon, the memories of the night prior infiltrated his brain. They had been together for a few weeks now. A few weeks of late-night hook-ups and early morning goodbyes. And last night, he called her by your name. She didn’t even notice.

Ashton wasn’t sure how he felt anymore. It was all numb. He could hardly feel the loofa as it scrubbed against his skin.

The morning was quiet around him. He thought about her while he spread jam on his toast. She was beautiful. She had kind eyes. But Ashton had to quit lying to himself. He never wanted to get used to the scent of her perfume on his sheets. He didn’t want to lose himself in the color of her eyes. He didn’t want to memorize her.

He grabbed his keys and drove off, skimming the coast with his tires as he dreamed of easier days. And then he called you.

“G’mornin’, Mister West Coast,” you said, and the stress of his mind eased with the tone of your voice. “You’re up early.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. The sky was lilac above the ocean. He wished you were here to see it. “Mind’s racin’, and such. Miss you.”

“Aw, miss you, too,” you replied. He could hear your smile. “How’s Sophia?”

Ashton nearly slammed on the brakes. He readjusted his grip on the steering wheel to keep his knuckles from turning white. He wanted to say, “she’s not you”, but instead, he said, “she’s okay. A little sick.”

“Wasn’t she just sick?” you asked.

He bit his lip. “Dunno.” And he truly didn’t. He didn’t know much anymore. He felt like he was a floating entity. He felt like he was living someone else’s life. “I really do miss you, stinky.”

“Stinky?” You scoffed. “I’m not stinky. You’re stinky.”

“You can’t smell me through the phone, idiot,” he said, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.

“Maybe I should just come visit and find out for myself.”

Ashton’s smile grew. “Maybe you should.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he said.

You huffed. “Fine.”

Ashton was grinning now, cheeks burning while he stared at the road ahead. He still loved you. He didn’t know if he would ever stop.

SEVEN: IT WOULD NEVER WORK

“Don’t fucking skip my favorite song, you asshole!”

Ashton’s stomach burned from laughter. He held his phone high, yet the roof of the car kept it within arm’s reach. Meanwhile, you were fighting for dominance as he kept one hand on the steering wheel. You huffed once you gave up, and you fell back into your seat.

“C’mon,” he said, poking your thigh to earn a response. You didn’t budge. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Look, I’m changing it. Here. You control the music now.”

That pleased you. You grinned, taking the phone from his hands while he let out a laugh. This was how the week had played out. Back and forth playful bickering until you pulled out your infamous pout, and he had to keep himself from falling harder and harder in love with you.

It was a dynamic he had missed over the past year. His friends noticed as well. His feelings hadn’t changed, yet he was happy. He could finally allow himself to be happy.

You set his phone down in a cupholder and took his hand in yours. Ashton couldn’t deny the shift in energy between the two of you, yet he refused to let it overwhelm him. He refused to let his hopes get the best of his behavior. Instead, he just smiled at you and returned his gaze to the road ahead.

“Have your hands always been this big?” you asked him, holding his hand up in front of your face to examine it.

He laughed. “Are you–– are you flirting with me?”

You set your hands back onto your lap. “Maybe,” you mumbled as you traced his knuckles.

Ashton continued to smile, and a fluttering stirred in his stomach.

“Is that okay?”

His laughter quickly faded, and he cleared his throat. “Y-yeah,” he said, gripping your hand a little tighter. He traced his thumb along your thigh. A comfortable silence settled in, one full of smiles and unspoken words that kept his mind racing.

The next morning, he helped you pack your things. The security line at the airport was short, and you were already running slightly behind schedule. Your plane would begin boarding within the next half hour. So, he kept his goodbye brief.

And then you kissed his cheek, and he wanted to pull you back in and hold you forever.

“I love you, Ashton,” you said with a smile. A warm smile that held meaning. You spoke words that he had heard before, but they felt different as they settled in his chest. You turned away before he could say anything else, and he spent the drive home with tears in his eyes.

Because he loved you, and you possibly loved him, too. But he could never have you the way he wanted. There were too many miles in between.

EIGHT: YOU’RE NOT READY FOR COMMITMENT–– RIGHT?

His feet ached. His knees did, too. Sweat coated his forehead, and he carried on up the steep trail.

Ashton had been thinking about you for weeks. He was caught up in your smile and the soft words you spoke. He climbed mountains to get you out of his head. His muscles burned while his brain ached with the idea of you.

You left him with a thousand questions. Did you feel the same way? Did he still feel the same way? Is this what he wants? Does he want commitment?

Ashton was caught up in scenarios left and right. He was stuck on a house in the hills, or maybe a small town on the eastern seaboard with a mile to the ocean. He felt the waves on his shins, and he felt your hand in his with a silver ring imprinting on his skin. He saw children, and he heard their giggles. He saw his life with you.

But, even after all of these thoughts, he wasn’t sure if it was what he wanted. He still didn’t know. The mountain had yet to clear his head.

He set his keys in the bowl beside his front door. The cold shower felt like an old friend, and a familiar song echoed in the tiled room. Your favorite song. Ashton smiled.

He still loved you, even if you didn’t love him. He still wanted you. He wanted you for the rest of his life.

NINE: IT MIGHT WORK

snail butt:

hey what’s the address for mikey’s party

oh also!! surprise!

i'm coming to mikey’s party

Ashton’s leg bounced as he awaited your arrival. He felt trapped in some small room at the back of a club while his friends chatted around him. Michael wore golden party decorations around his neck, and he couldn’t stop smiling. Meanwhile, Ashton couldn’t hold back his fucking nerves. He hadn’t told a soul that you were coming.

When you stepped in, the room was yours. Your name was sung in a booming chorus, bodies making their way toward yours for one big group hug, and you were smiling, too. Ashton stayed behind. He felt like he couldn’t move.

Your eyes met his only seconds later, your smile growing while you shot him a wink. Michael talked about something that reminded him of you, and you laughed along. Ashton’s heart swelled at the sight of you. He wished he could have it every single day.

The night carried on slowly, and the conversations between the two of you were cut short. But the shared glances flooded the atmosphere. There was something heavy behind them, like a beckoning almost, but he couldn’t force himself to move in your direction. He wanted to look at you from afar.

“Stranger danger,” you said after approaching him later on in the night. You folded your arms and smirked, and Ashton was suddenly aware of how tight your dress was on your figure.

“Me?” he asked, mirroring your grin. “What d’ya mean? I’m the least terrifying person you’ll ever meet.”

“Say that to the fifteen-year-old kid who dressed up as Freddie Krueger to scare the shit out of his innocent neighbor,” you replied. You took a few steps toward him.

“To be fair,” he began and placed his hands against the small of your back, “you’re just an easy scary.” His smile grew. “Hi, bug. Missed you.”

You fell into him, arms wrapping around his shoulders while your breaths quickly fell into a rhythm. “I missed you,” you mumbled against his jacket. You pulled away suddenly. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

You nodded. “Come along,” you said.

The two of you said a quick goodbye to Michael, wished him a happy birthday, and made your way out into the chilly night. You had yet to let go of Ashton’s hand, even as he drove down streets that he hardly recognized. The address you gave him was one he had never seen before.

Ten minutes later, he was pulling up to an apartment complex fifteen or so miles away from his place.

“You gonna murder me?” he asked you.

You shook your head and smiled. “Nope,” you said.

A billion questions ran through his head as you led him up a staircase. But he stayed quiet. Even when you pulled out a set of keys and unlocked a numbered door, he still kept his mouth shut.

A lamp in the corner of the room lit up the small space. Boxes were stacked upon other boxes, and it hardly looked lived in. Yet, that didn’t matter. Ashton had realized what was happening. He felt sick to his stomach.

“I was offered a job,” you said.

He stared at the mess of boxes and mismatched furniture. Even through the clutter, it was thoroughly you through-and-through.

“And I was tired of having to constantly come visit you,” you continued with a laugh. “I didn’t wanna tell you until it was set in stone. But, yeah, welcome to my new home.”

Ashton turned to face you. You appeared nervous as you awaited his response. You were waiting for him to tell you it was a stupid idea, that you should have thought about this before packing up your life and moving to Los Angeles. But he wasn’t going to do that.

Instead, he cupped your cheeks and kissed you.

And you kissed him back.

TEN: THE FEAR OF FALLING OUT OF LOVE

He could hear the screams from backstage. A venue full of thousands of fans, all waiting to hear him and his band. He wished he hadn’t become numb to the feeling. It was his job–– it was normal. And the music he created no longer held the same meaning.

But he heard the songs differently now. He played with more passion, adrenaline rushing through his veins as his drumkit became a solace. Venues were his sanctuaries. Every night was filled with a new sensation he desired–– no, he craved.

His friends took notice. They fed off of his energy, and he wasn’t sure they had ever played this well before. It was something he wished he could share with you.

Ashton didn’t like remembering the thin line the two of you had drawn out. It was unexplainable, something unnamed that he was desperate to make sense of. Conversations were full of old jokes and stupid pictures he always saved into his camera roll. However, he never bothered to ask you how you felt. He never pressed about the one thing that stuck itself to his mind for well over a year.

He wanted to tell someone about how scared he was. Past relationships failed on his part–– he would flee instead of looking for reasons to stay. He chose to leave because he never saw things escalating further. Ashton had gotten used to the escape.

He felt different. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what he needed. Yet, the lack of reluctance created an unwanted fear. Ashton was afraid that, if you ever opened up to loving him back, then maybe he would stop loving you in return.

This fear showed itself in his performance. It fueled an anger that terrified him. But the shows were fucking phenomenal, he told himself. His hands bled after every night. And he still called you every night.

He was afraid of losing feelings. He was afraid of losing you. The idea of loving you was more beautiful than he could imagine–– the idea of you filled his heart with so much joy. That was where Ashton’s love for you differed from past relationships. He was used to falling in love with ideas, but this time, he fell in love with the honest you. He loved every little thing about you.

“Hi, bug.”

“Hey, how was the show?”

Ashton pushed sweaty strands of hair out of his face. His heart was pounding through his skin, fingers sore and shaky from an incredible set. His lips were numb. “Hi, um, it was–– yeah, it was good.”

“You sound out of breath.”

He inhaled as best as he could. “Sorry, yeah. I am.” Anxiety crawled up his forearms and into his chest.

“You okay?” you asked him.

He swallowed. He wasn’t okay, but it didn’t matter. “Yeah. I’m good. How was your day?”

“Oh, it was fine,” you said. “Didn’t do much. Watered your plants, ate your food, had a good nap on your couch, and then I––”

“I’m in love with you.”

You were silent.

Ashton’s throat burned. Everything was numb. His entire body had fallen numb. He wanted to end the call and never come home.

“You are?” you whispered a moment later.

His heart ached. “Yeah,” he said.

“Please come home soon.”

Ashton tried to laugh through the nerves building. “Can’t do that, bug. I got like forty shows left.”

“Poopy.”

This time, he could laugh. Maybe he had been nervous for nothing. Nevertheless, he now believed that he had nothing to fear.

ELEVEN: THEY MIGHT LOVE YOU BACK

The door to his home creaked as he stepped inside. A thick black night greeted him, not a single light to be seen as the white noise settled. He held his breath while he set his belongings beside the couch. It always felt like this when he came home. He was always welcomed by an overwhelming sense of loneliness. He would shower and crawl into bed, and he would spend the entire night in a restless state.

Ashton hadn’t expected to see you curled up in his sheets. That was where the night different from the many others. He hadn’t expected his heart to fill with such warmth at the mere sight of you. Two in the morning had never felt so good.

You held his pillow tight, and he wondered if it smelled like him. He wondered if you had spent the past few months here, and he wondered if it felt like home to you. Because you looked like home to him. It was like you were meant to be there, all curled up in his bedsheets with his shirt on your back.

Ashton knelt beside you, a smile etched on his features as he ran his fingers through your hair. He had never felt this much love before.

“Hey, bug,” he whispered, grazing his thumb against your cheek while your eyes fluttered.

You stirred beneath him and hummed.

“’m gonna shower, then I’m gonna hug you after,” he said. “Okay?”

You nodded, but a moment later, your eyes snapped open. “Ash!” you yelped. You tossed your arms around his shoulders and pressed yourself against him. “You’re fucking home.”

He chuckled, yet he didn’t reply. He held you tighter and took in your warmth. He took in your scent and the weight of your breaths. He wanted to hold you forever.

You were the first to pull away, a smile never fading as you rested your forehead against his. Your legs had wrapped around his waist, and your fingers twisted in his hair; it was a feeling he’d never let himself forget.

“You forgot to text me when you landed, asshole,” you mumbled.

He laughed again, raising his hand to cup your cheek before kissing you softly. And, like always, you kissed him back. Ashton had loved you for over a year, and perhaps, you loved him in return.

[luvuwite]

all, go

i hate you

1. What was the last present you gave?

uMMMM probably a commission i gave to pancake (archie/vivi)

 2. What was the last present you received? 

i dunno? if its a doodle then i got that a week back!

3. What animal best represents your personality? 

from the oOoOO spirit animal tests i took im a snek

4. What are you most afraid of? 

sometimes my own mind EYES EMOJI

5. Who is your favourite villain? 

HMMMMMMM probably like,, megamind i love him

6. Who is your favourite family member? (we all have one, admit it)

MY SISTERRRR

7. If you could name your own planet what would it be called? 

myanus

8. Stars or Moon? 

stars!!

9. Do you have/want kinds? 

if my other partner wants them, sure

10. What is your greatest life goal? 

making it this far

11. What is something you can’t live without? 

soup

12. What is a place you associate with your childhood? 

one of the parks near the store-area

13. How was your first kiss/how would you like your first kiss to go? 

i never kissed, so i wouldn’t know, but pls,,,ask for consent,,, and warn me if we gonna kiss or not,,,,,

14. What is some life advice you have acquired? 

ive learned a lil’ bit, but one of em probably has to be to just be like,, dont cry over something you know is fake, at least thats what i remember atm HAHA

15. Who in history has influenced you? 

bruh i dont like history idk

16. What is something strange that you think about often? 

h,,,hopless romantic noISIJEIORQ AHHAHA i like to think about weird scenarios in my head basically

17. Baths or Showers? 

showrr i get shy with myself in baths

18. Tea of Coffee? 

coffee

19. Alcohol or soft drink? 

alchohol bad brisk brisk brisk

20. Writing or typing? 

typing since its easier

21. What is you most favourite thing in your bedroom? 

my bed its sexy and comfy

22. Spontaneous holiday! Where are you going and with who? 

wait what UH I DONT KNOW probably just close close friends and family

23. Introverted or Extraverted? 

i have my moments with both

24. Describe yourself in two words. 

small and aggressive

31. What do you think of when you hear ‘portrait’? 

a picture or image of someone/something

32. Tell me about your partner/ideal partner? 

i mean no one is perfect yeah? i just want them to be honest with me and accept my AHEM struGGLES with relationships since im not the best partner

33. Tell me about your siblings, if you have any? 

my sister is what you call a “girly girl”, she likes disney movies, outdoors, being loud and running around, yknow just like any other child ever

35. What are you a big advocate for? 

my friends!!

36. If you’re comfortable to answer, what is the sickest you have ever been?

migraine + stomach bug + mental in trash +  stomach pains + lil appendix pain

37. When were you the most scared in your life? 

when i broke my arm

38. Ever had a paranormal experience? 

ACTUALLY YEAH i thought i heard someone yelling help outside my window and i peaked out and realized it was nothing and i figured i was just tired but i was still kinda freaked

39. Biggest celebrity crush at the moment? 

im not like other girls,,,,....

40. What is something happening in your life right now? 

uhhh just general anxiousness/paranoia(?) tbh

41. What is your favourite mythological creature? 

DRAAAAGOOOOOON

42. Marvel or DC?

dont know what those are

43. What object would be on your family’s banner? 

soup

44. Favourite flower? 

pink rose

45. One characteristic you like in a partner? 

s,,,support/reassurance pls

46. What planet/star would you travel to if it were possible? 

i wanna,,,, actually i dont know i think i would just enjoy floating around in general 

47. What is your favourite meal… ever? 

soup

48. First time…. doing anything. Describe your first time doing something? 

first time i drew was twiggit sperkl and that was the most proudest i ever felt

49. Who is your favourite superhero? 

bRUHHH I DUNNO I DONT WATCH THAT STUF

50. What is your favourite poem? Recite it?

i dont read

51. What is an exercise you despise doing. 

burpees

52. Secret talent? 

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

fite

53. Current song on replay replay replay? 

[x]

55. If you weren’t in your current occupation what would you be doing? 

sleeping probably

56. What is the first thing you notice about the person you fancy?

,,y,yo they kinda,,,, scrumptious,,, AHUIWRWQI 

57. If you had one wish that would definitely come true, what would it be? 

yes

58. If you could time travel, when and where would you visit? 

i would go to future bc i wanna see what i look like

59. What is your lucky number? 

5

60. If you adopt a pet what would it be and what would you name it? 

a cat!! and i actually am planning a name and calling them clementine!! 

61. Do you believe in fate/everything happens for a reason?

i believe your fate is decided by ur own actions/words

 62. What is your favourite thing about your personality? 

im not too hard to get along with,, i hope

63. What is your favourite thing about your appearance? 

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

64. What is your favourite clothing store? 

primark bc everything is like 2 bucks

65. What is your favourite online store? 

i dont do online shopping too much

66. Use one word to describe your most favourite person? 

observant 

67. How do you usually have your hair?

down with a clip, then ponytail next day

 68. What was your favourite subject in high school? 

math

69. What makes you feel empowered? 

power over something/someone(as a joke/in games, not in a bad way)

70. What motivates you to do something? 

a prize at the end

71. What advice would you give someone who is going through a rough time? 

it gets worse before it gets better, and in the worse ill be there for you so you dont have to go through this alone

72. Ideal date? 

wendys!!! sweater weather!!! cuddle!!! left 4 dead!!! comfy clothes!!!

73. What is the best date night movie? 

i am not that attractive to be taken out on a date

74. What is something you are currently looking forward to? 

nothing atm tbh im just here bc i have to beIEOJRWIOE

75. Tell me a funny joke? 

oo wa oh wa ooh

76. Do you like musicals? If so, what’s your favourite? 

never listened to one actually

77. What is your favourite song currently? 

sweater weather. always.

78. What song never fails to make you dance? 

POP EYED JOEEEEE IVE BEEN LIVING???? LONG TIME YOOO

79. What is your favourite “classic?”

gnomeo and juliet

 80. What is the best advice you have ever been given? 

obese paragraph and comfort doodles? lets go

81. Where did you ancestors come from? 

puerto rico

82. What have you learned from your parents/guardians? 

be tough nugget and dont take shit seriously till you have to

83. What is a phrase you heard a lot growing up? 

dont step on the crack or youll break ur mothers back

84. Do you believe in magic? 

nnno

85. What reminds you of your best friend? 

overwatch

86. What are you passionate about? 

dance dance dance

87. Tell me a story from middle school? 

one time

the end

88. Who was your favourite teacher and why?

i love my bio teacher rn bro shes such a sweetheart

 89. Can you roll your tongue? 

yes

90. What made you pursue what you are studying? (including school subjects) 

my little pony

91. Where would you like to travel to? 

japan for those toys gimme gimme

92. What is something on your bucket-list? 

i wanna see coral reef

93. What is home to you? 

place that brings feeling of comfort/security

94. What do you do in your free time? 

draw

95. If you could buy anything right now, what would it be? 

food

96. If you could see anyone, living or dead, right now, who would it be? 

probs one of my online friends

97. If you could choose, what would your last meal be? 

soup dumplings brisk and rice

98. How would you like to die? 

happy

99. List five of your favourite pieces of art (paintings, books, songs etc) 

ruby eyes / sweater weather / ponyo / wall-e / idk

100. What would you change about this world?

global warming SHOOO U FAT

[stoprightthereyoumeanie]

Life of Kaede - Hope's Peak

Chapter 2: Hope's Peak Academy

Kaede woke up to her alarm, as her hair covered her eyes, which didn't really let her see that well.

'Ugh... Why should I wake up?...' Asked Kaede to herself before she remembered what day it was.

'Because I'm going to Hope's Peak!' Remembered Kaede to herself as she excitedly stood up and went to her closet.

She grabbed her uniform, a few music hairpins, and ran towards the shower. After she took one of the fastest showers to be seen by man, she ran downstairs as she saw that her mom had made her Pancakes.

"Hey, mom!" Said Kaede as she sat down and started eating. "Good morning, sweetie. How are you?" Asked her mom as she sat down with Kaede.

"I'm fine, thanks!" Said Kaede as she happily ate her Pancakes.

Everyone noticed however since Kaede got accepted in Hope's Peak, she started acting differently. She was way more optimistic and sociable. It was hard to believe that the Kaede they knew a few months ago was the same one that was excitedly humming a piano song as she finished her Orange juice.

"Tell Kagami I love her" said Kaede to her mom as she put on her white backpack. "I will" replied her mom as she gave Kaede a small smile.

Kaede smiled back, hugged her, and left running towards Hope's Peak.

As Kaede ran in front of a bunch of houses, she noticed how the more she ran, the more people with Hope's Peak uniform appeared.

That only made Kaede way more excited; which of those were going to be her friends? Who was she going to be the closest with?

Kaede couldn't wait for her bright new start, so when she was at the entrance of Hope's Peak she immediately took her school map out of her backpack.

'Class 79, hmm... it's on the second floor!' Thought Kaede as she found where her class was on the map. She then folded her map and ran towards the stairs. While she was jogging up the stairs, she felt how someone grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"No running in the halls, young miss!" Spoke a tall, black-haired guy with big eyebrows as he looked at Kaede as she turned around and gulped.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just... a little excited about coming in here." Said Kaede as she scratched the back of her neck as the guy left her hand go.

"It's fine, but don't make that mistake again!" Said the guy as he crossed her arms and looked at Kaede firmly.

"I won't! Also... what's your name?" Asked Kaede as the guy got surprised.

"I... I'm Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the ultimate Moral Compass! Or, uh, ultimate Hall Monitor. B-But you can call me Taka!" Said Kiyotaka as in the end, he stood in pride.

"Wow, that's so cool! I'm Kaede Akamatsu, the ultimate Pianist. Nice to meet you!" Said Kaede as she smiled and offered him her hand. The hall Monitor took her hand and both of them shook them.

"In what class are you?" Asked Kaede.

"I'm at class 78, and you?" Answered Tanaka as he stood still.

"Oh, I'm in class 79!" Answered Kaede as she scratched the back of her neck.

"Do you need help to get to your classroom? I took a digital tour of the school, and I've learned where everything is!" Asked Ishumaru as Kaede gave him a smile.

"Thanks, Taka! I would really appreciate that..." Answered Kaede as Ishimaru smiled.

"This way, Miss Akamatsu!"

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

"Thank you, Taka." Said Kaede as she stood in front of the door of her class. "No problem! That's my job as the ultimate Hall Monitor!" Spoke Taka in pride as Kaede giggled.

"Good luck on your first day!" Said Kaede before she waved at him and entered the classroom.

"You also have good luck!" Yelled the black-haired boy before walking towards his classroom.

When Kaede entered the classroom, she noticed how everyone was doing something. A tall girl with long, blonde hair was talking- or fighting? With a short, purple-haired boy. They were dangerously close to the window, which made Kaede didn't want to sit over there since it appeared that both of them sat on that side.

Kaede tried to ignore the fight since she didn't want to get in trouble. So, she simply chose a seat that was close to a wall, and she started organizing her stuff.

When she finished, she searched for someone to talk to. She actually wanted to be friends with everyone, so it wouldn't really matter who she talked to first. Then, she saw how a boy with a cap entered the classroom. That boy really caught Kaede's attention...

"Hey! What's your name?" Asked Kaede to the boy as he sat down on the front row.

"Oh, uh, hey. I-I'm Shuichi Saihara. And you?" Asked Saihara as Kaede smiled.

"I'm Kaede Akamatsu! Nice to meet you!" Answered Kaede as she noticed how Saihara's face looked surprised.

"Oh, are you okay?" Asked Kaede as the dark-haired boy came back to reality.

"Y-Yeah, sorry. It's because my aunt and uncle really like listening to y-your piano performances, and I didn't expect to see you i-in here." Said Shuichi as a small blushed drew over Kaede's cheeks.

"Wait- really? That's awesome! One of the reasons why I play the piano is to make people happy, so that really made my day!" Said Kaede as she smiled and started bouncing.

"Also, what's your ultimate?" Asked Kaede as Saihara hid his face with his hat.

"U-Ultimate detective... even though I think that title may be a lot for me..." Answered the shy boy as Kaede stood confused.

"Why would you say that? If they gave you that title, it must be for something" Said Kaede trying to cheer him up.

"I've only solved a few small cases, while there is another ultimate detective that has solved cases since she was 13. She is way more experienced than me, and I only got my title because of pure luck." Said Saihara as he looked down in shame.

"Come on, Saihara! You're still an ultimate! And if you could solve some cases, that's a sign that you're good at it! The other ultimate detective may be good, and that doesn't make you less! And if you just started, you're doing great, Saihara!" Declared Kaede as Saihara looked up at her in surprise.

Kaede didn't want anyone to feel how she felt before a few weeks ago. She didn't want people to feel that they were useless or not good enough, because she doubted that anyone liked that feeling.

"Thanks... Akamatsu. That meant a lot to me." Spoke the boy as a small blush painted his cheeks.

Then, the bell rang. Kaede waved to Shuichi and sat on her seat.

"Good morning, kids. My name is Kenji Saito, the ultimate Philosopher, and I'll be your homeroom teacher for this school year." Greeted the teacher as he gave us all a smile.

In the first hour of class, we introduced ourselves and said why our ultimate talents were unique.

"Hello! I'm Kaede Akamatsu, the ultimate pianist! My talent is unique because the piano music is special because it makes people feel different. It may make them feel like they are in heaven, or that they are in infinite despair. It really depends on what the pianist wants its audience to feel." Stated Kaede as she excitedly explained herself.

She noticed that a few students were surprised because of her energy, which made her smile. Kaede liked that people were seeing her as someone social, energetic, and happy.

"Nice meeting you, Miss Akamatsu." Spoke the teacher as the blonde smiled and walked back to her place.

When the class ended, Kaede waited for Saihara next to the door.

"Why are you waiting for me?" Asked the detective as Kaede giggled.

"Because I want to eat with you, duh." Answered Kaede as she smiled at him.

Shuichi sighed and simply left Kaede to hang out with him.

"So, what do you like to do in your free time, Saihara?" Asked Kaede as they walked to the Cafeteria. "Well, I guess that I like reading novels." Said Shuichi as his head was down.

"That's nice. Which genre do you like the most?" Asked Kaede as she organized her hair clips.

"I mostly like horror novels, but a romance one wouldn't be that bad..." Said Shuichi softly as he lifted up his hat a little. "What do you like to do, Akamatsu?" Asked Shuichi as Kaede turned her head to him. "I mean- I really like piano, I also like reading and joking with my sister" Spoke Kaede as a small smile showed on her face.

"You have a sister?" Asked the detective as Kaede nodded.

"Yeah, we are twins, actually. I'm the youngest one for a few seconds. We're really good friends and we both take care of each other..." said Kaede as she smiled and looked up to Shuichi.

Saihara just had a small smile on his face, and both of them continued walking to the cafeteria while talking about everything.

.

.

.

.

.

[horrorgay]

could i get some consultation on this opening part to my story.

warning: child death

Sometimes, on the East Coast, rain could be felt prematurely. Like it was just a thought on a meteorologist's mind, a heavy moment hanging in the air, dragging a stagnant lull into the afternoon. Once it finally came down, it was in sheets, soaking anyone caught outside to the bone. His parents had warned him that a summer thunderstorm was blowing in from the East, warm air from the West mixing with cool air rising from the ocean, but he had shrugged it off, plucking a raincoat from the mudroom closet and stowing it into his backpack for show. 

His mother sighed flippantly, waving her hand to dismiss him "If you're going to go, then go." She said, just barely over the sound of her phone call, on speaker phone  as usual, so she could multitask easier. She was cutting vegetables with a chef's precision, and couldn't care less if her son caught a cold from playing in the rain, if it meant he was out of the house. "Just be back by six, okay?" A few hours out in the rain. He could handle a cold, she told herself.

“Fine.” He grumbled, shoving his foot into his boots, which had been waterproofed in the spring in preparation for the humidity of snowmelt and summer afternoons, but hadn’t gotten any use. They were still a little big on him (hand me downs) and if he didn’t tie them tight enough, his ankles wiggled in them when he walked. Summer felt like it had just started, and yet it was already August. The kid had barely had any adventures, which  he’d been waiting so impatiently for all of fifth grade: the fabled summer transition from elementary to middle school.

Illness had struck him viciously at the end of the school year --  what they’d thought was just a prolonged migraine proved to be much more. He’d spent most of June in the local hospital, as adults in lab coats and drab clothing took test after test, attempting to puzzle out what was wrong with him. 

In the end, they couldn’t figure it out, but he had started to feel better, and so they released him from their clutches, giving his mother strict instructions to keep an eye on him in case he worsened again. The weeks of being kept in had made him unruly, and so she thought, just for today, he should go out and play in the rain, so she could finally have some respite from the crashing and hollering of his make believe fanatics, which carried  too easily down the hallway to her “office”. 

He didn’t know what to do with himself.

“A whole day!” He told the water that rushed in the drainage down the street, carrying debris from the earlier wind down into the sewers. “All to myself.”

 At first he thought maybe he’d go to the new arcade. One had sprung up on main street while he’d been in the hospital. His friends had spent most of their summer there, nostalgia drawing them in, even though the days of arcade hangouts were from a generation or two before them. But his friends were away on a camping trip now, and he’d have no one to play the games with, it would be pathetic. Lightning caught his attention, somewhere in the distance, in the trees up ahead. Right near the construction site for the new mall. Construction had been delayed, as the original founders had run into financial troubles in the wake of the 2008 repression. The mayor had promised them that it would be finished by mid-decade but several years had passed without so much as a construction worker stepping on site. 

It had become a hangout for all the teenagers, he knew. Chain link fences often drew them in like a moth to flame. Maybe he’d see his sister there. She was usually off on her own adventures. He’d begged her so many times to take her with him, but she’d always said no. He was sure it was because Mom had told her she’d be grounded for several weeks if she even thought about smuggling her brother out. Little body under enough stress as it was, he didn’t need scraped knees or twisted ankles. It still hurt though, sitting at home, bored out of his mind, while she got to do anything she wanted. 

If she were there, maybe he’d find her in the maze of skeleton buildings and maybe she’d let him join her. It seemed like a decent plan, and if he didn’t find her there, he would find something else to do. The air was brisk, but the drops felt warm against his face, huge, plop plopping as they splashed against his cheeks and shoulders.

It was deserted, he realized, as he maneuvered through a roughly cut hole in the chainlink. Before he had gotten sick, his sister had brought him to this part of the fence. 

“Cut this part myself.” She’d grinned. “Peeled it back like a can lid. Easy. You can’t go in though, too dangerous. Mom would kill me.”

 The site was tossed earth, and when it rained it might as well have been a slip and slide. A few feet, and his heel lost traction, making a grotesque sucking noise as the tread of his shoe lost surface tension. He threw one hand out in the opposite direction to stabilize himself and barely managed to keep his balance. Freezing, he took a deep breath, beginning to think it wasn’t the best idea to explore during a downpour. 

Blinking rain away from his long lashes, he called out. “Sawyer?” 

Maybe if she was there, he’d venture in. 

If someone responded, it was drowned out by the rain. He stood there weighing his options: continue to explore the site, inevitably slathering himself in mud and making his mother unbelievably angry, find something else to do outside (nothing, except for exploring the woods, which scared him), go inside a store and do nothing, because he had brought no spending money, or go back home and admit defeat. 

Maybe mom wouldn’t be so angry if he showed up at the front porch drenched to the bone and slick-shiny from mud. “I’ll do my own laundry, if she’s mad about that.” He muttered, lifting his right foot up and shaking it, watching glops of mud spray back onto the ground, immediately losing shape and melting into the rest. 

All he wanted was to have a proper adventure. Mom would forgive him eventually. 

Somewhere, between the bones of the building, he heard his sister shout. It was faint, but clear enough through the pitter-patter that he knew, unmistakably, that it was her. She is here, he thought, having fun without me. He grunted, and then jogged towards the construction equipment calling out her name, his boots heavy with mud, his stringbean legs hard to move. 

She responded, from somewhere in the forest of beams. “I’m over here!” Each time she shouted it grew more and more distant, jumping from right to left. He slid to a halt, frown pressing the corners of his mouth down in worry. He pulled out his iphone 4, another hand me down from his sister and sent her a text, the pads of his fingers almost numb from the cold of the rain. 

stop. i can’t run that fast. where r u.

He waited for a response, huffing out puffs of grey frustration. After a moment, he heard her laugh. “Come and find me, dork.” Clicking the phone off, he shoved it back into his coat pocket and took off again, his feet might as well have been on a paper smooth sheet of ice, as they skittered back and forth, ankles wobbling precariously in the boots. Here the rain was deterred by the criss-crossing beams above leaving the ground more solid, but it still came down onto his face, blurring his vision. 

“Come on.” She sounded only a few feet away, like she was standing behind a beam dead ahead, even though seconds ago she was from the very end of the half built enclosure. “You haven’t found me yet! This is fun!”

All at once, and like something had opened his door slowly in the middle of the night, his heart froze. There was someone standing on the other side, but he couldn’t make them out. They were blurry, confusing. Clasping his palms over his ears, he clenched his eyes shut and screamed the only thing he could think of. “Stop!” Slowly, the summer shower thinned for a moment or two, collecting the rust from the pipes above and rinsing it back into the earth. His chest heaved. “S-stop.”

He cracked one eye open, then the next, expecting some foreign copy of his sister, one that lured him into the site, to stand opposite him, but instead there was nothing but brown puddles with droplet rings patterning their surface. 

He stood for a moment longer, still waiting for something to jump out and scare him, and then sighed. Like a radio crackling on, a voice pierced his mind. 

<you.> 

“What?”

<adventure.> 

The boy’s feet could not carry him fast enough, not quickly enough home, as he fumbled through the mudpit. He tore blindly between the beams, hands splooging down into the mud when he lost his balance. His raincoat hood had fallen backwards, and he tugged it back up, smearing the mud along his cheek. Only a hundred more feet and he’d be out, back on the weed cracked road. He could not slow himself down as he barreled towards a half-built wall, wood stakes bracing up clumsy mortar and cinder blocks. His careening weight slammed against it, the force causing it’s foundation to sway and collapse into the other walls.The rest of the small unfinished building crashed down onto his small body, burying him under bricks. The rain continued into the night, still raging at eleven, when his mother finally called the police.

[rogerina-yee-haw]

okay based on the new video of joe and ben no one has recovered from, please write a blurb about Ben knowing the reader because she works on set and they end up sharing a hotel room because they’re changing location for filming but there’s only one bed (aka my fave trope ever) so they end up sharing and flirting and ben gives her those eyes which can only lead to one thing ;)

I changed the request a little, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it 🖤 

“and there was one bed!”

“oh my god, there was one bed!?” y’all know what vine I’m talking about

this is very cliché but i love such shit so much, none of you can stop me. thank u for the request, love ! it’s not really steamy I’m sorry

Playing Dominique in “Bohemian Rhapsody” was all good and fun until you fell in love with the guy who was playing Roger Taylor. It was impossible not to love him - Ben was smart, funny, witty, cute and understanding. You were in your mid-twenties, as well as he was - just two years older than you - and you never expected to get on well so much with someone your age.

The thing is, all three best friends you had were younger than you - 21, 23 and 20.  You all met in high school, as you didn’t really have a lot of friends among people in your class. You love life was on the other side of it - you had four boyfriends and all of them were much older than you. Your first was twenty-two; you lost your virginity to him just a couple of weeks after you turned eighteen. The oldest guy was thirty-three and things with him ended in a kind of fucked way - he told you he had fallen out of love with you on your birthday and left you all alone so that you could drown yourself in your sorrows and wine. It happened right before you started filming in BoRhap; so this job really helped you to recover from it. New friends did too. Ben especially.

You two spent too much time together; and as you had no actual lines in the movie, you compensated it with non-stop talking off-set. Ben liked listening to you; he liked your voice, the way you gesticulated whenever you were too involved in the topic of the conversation, and how you were constantly putting your hair behind your ears if you were nervous. You never noticed the way Ben looked at you, and he never noticed how you were practically drooling over him. “Oblivious idiots”, Lucy told Joe the other day. She wasn’t wrong.

Changing the location wasn’t a surprise, but it certainly was uncomfortable; the real problem came to the light when you were set to live in the hotel where the majority of rooms were taken. So you had to share. And as the shooting was almost nearing its end, you had developed a really close relationship with everyone. So you didn’t mind sharing the room with any of the boys - only if there were two beds, of course.

Rami always used to say that fortune is a bitch sometimes, and this was certainly the situation you were in. The last room with separate beds was snatched right from your hands by Gwil and Joe, and there was only one room left. With one bed. For you and Ben.

“Have fun”, Lucy winked at you, and you rolled your eyes. What fun you could possibly have? You and Ben shared the bed once before this, and nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. You vividly remembered falling asleep under the blanket and with you face turned to the wall - but you woke up with your head on Ben’s chest, your legs entangled together and his hand around you and blanket long forgotten. You had never ever spoken about it. But you wished to.

“Wouldn’t you like sharing the bed with Joe for the next two weeks?” you joked, as you sat down on the mattress on your side of the bed.

Ben smiled. “He’s always twisting and turning in bed, y'know”, you laid down next to Ben, your forearms touching. The sensation of it made him shiver; you were so close to him but yet so far. He wanted to be with you in every way possible but was too scared to tell you. Besides, he knew you were recovering from the terrible heartbreak and didn’t’ want to impose his feelings on you. He desperately wanted you to feel the same way, but he could never make you. So Ben just hoped. And you were in the same position.

“Last time we had to share a bed he pushed me from it and said I was invading his personal space”, you chuckled. “So, at any chance given, you’re the best one to share the bed with”. You felt yourself becoming extremely flustered at his words, and Ben didn’t fail to notice the way your eyes lit up. This tiny hope inside his heart suddenly started growing, and he actually considered you sharing his feelings. That made his cheeks pink and he coughed, trying to hide it - only his attempt at it failed.

“Goodnight, Ben”, you said softly, turning to the other side, your back facing him.

“Goodnight, Y/N”, he whispered, looking at you. He wanted to touch you so badly. You smelled so good - the mix of shampoo and shower gel you were constantly using was doing inexplicable things to him. So Ben fell asleep, thinking about you - as he did for the past several months.

You woke up in the middle of the nights, feeling the tight grip on your waist. You frowned, still half-asleep; you couldn’t understand what was going on. Suddenly, you felt a hot breath on your neck, which sent goosebumps all over your body. “Fuck, Y/N”.

You woke up immediately. What was Ben doing there?

You turned your head slightly, only to see him still asleep. His lips were parted, he was breathing heavily - and only this made you wet. Was he having a wet dream about you? God, how you wished he wasn’t asleep. But you couldn’t let him do that in his sleep. You had to wake him up just to make this consensual and real.

Just when you touched his cheek and was about to open your mouth, he started grinding on your ass. You let out a whimper - you could feel his hardness through the fabric. “Fuck, you feel so good”, he mumbled; you had to close your eyes and bite your lip just to prevent yourself from moaning. This felt good indeed, but he had to be actually awake to make love to you.

“Ben”, you said, touching his face. He stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes; his eyes were half-opened as he looked at you with a soft smile on his lips. But, as soon as Ben realized in what position he was, his eyes widened and he felt his face burning.

“Shit”, he muttered. “Y/N, ’m so sorry, I promise, I’m-” he looked at you with fear in his eyes. “I didn’t mean anything - like - I’m not trying to - um - I’m not-”

“Ben”, you turned so that you were lying chest to chest now; you cupped his cheeks in your hands, and he started blinking rapidly as he felt your touch. “T’s alright. You don’t have to be sorry, there’s nothing to apologize for”.

“Really?” he breathed out.

“Yeah”, you nodded. “I’m actually really flattered you were having a wet dream about me”.

Ben blushed and sighed deeply.

“I was thinking…” you gulped. “If we could - only if you want to - make it more than just a dream”.

Ben’s eyes sparkled. “You mean…you want this too?”

You drew your lower lip between your teeth. “More than anything”.

Ben let out a harsh breath and his eyes were now looking at your lips. “You have no idea how crazy you drive me. No idea”, he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer to him; and now you both were actually breathing together. “I like you so much, Y/N”, he stared deeply into your eyes.

“I like you too, Ben”.

That was enough for both of you. His lips were on yours immediately, kissing you hungrily; and you didn’t let each other breathe, as you couldn’t pull away from one another. At one point Ben rolled you over so that he was on top - and he did all of it without breaking the kiss. Your fingers were tugging at his hair, and his hands were wandering all over your body.

“’ve been dreaming about you every day”, he whispered against your neck, “dreaming about kissing you like this, hugging you”, he looked into your eyes and then kissed you sensually. “Touching you like this”, his hand squeezed your boob under your tee-shirt, making you arch your back. “Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening. You’re so perfect”.

You just smiled into the kiss. You hadn’t felt this good forever. And you knew that you were safe in Ben’s arms.

[thiefcat-niao]

Ending the Session (Chapter 3)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!   Characters/Ships: Gemshipping (Thief King Bakura/Ryou Bakura); Ryou Bakura, Thief King Bakura, Atem, Yugi Mutuo, Zorc Necrophades Rating: T Length: Chapter 3 / 3; 4100 words

Summary:

Into Ryou’s lonely apartment comes a spirit, an ancient power that speaks and manifests through the Ouija board kept beneath the bed. It calls itself Tou, and claims to be human. Ryou believes.

Read on AO3 Previous Chapter – Next Chapter (Fin!)

Ryou Bakura, with shaking hands, unfolded the Ouija board. He fumbled to light a single candle, then tucked the lighter into his pocket. Though he'd set his phone to silent, he saw Yugi's name flashing again and again on the lit screen.

"Tou? Tou, are you here? Please, answer me!"

The room grew suddenly less empty, and Ryou felt a sweeping sense of relief as the pointer began to move. "im here... as you command...”

Ryou laughed breathlessly, almost hearing the sardonic tone. "I did something I shouldn't have, Tou. I—I wanted to know who you were."

"you could have just asked..."

"I figured you wouldn't answer."

"youre probably right haha..."

Ryou laughed weakly. "I have a friend—he comes from Egypt."

"figured out that much eh..."

"Yeah. But I couldn't find any records of someone called Thief King, on the internet, and so I asked my friend. He comes from Egypt, and travels there at least once a year, and he's an Egyptologist, actually, so I figured—"

"the point..."

"Well... my friend, he says he knew you. In a previous life."

There was a beat of silence, and then the pointer moved slowly in the shape of a question mark.

Ryou swallowed. "His name's Atem. He says he was the pharaoh, when you were alive."

The spirit didn't react as violently as Ryou would have expected; indeed, when the pointer finally moved, it all but crawled across the board. "so pharaoh atem lives again in this time..."

"He thought you might hurt me. I told him that you wouldn't, that that was ridiculous, that you would never, but he didn't believe me. He says he's on his way here, now, and I don't know what to do."

Again the spirit was silent for a long moment, then asked, "did almighty atem tell you anything specific about me...”

"No," Ryou lied, without hesitation. "He seemed... really freaked out, though."

"understandable..." was the pensive response. "we didnt see eye to eye the pharaoh and i...”

"With a title like Thief King, I can image not."

"haha... thats true... it was a bit worse than all that though...”

He said you were a demon... Ryou almost admitted it, but the sheer absurdity of the thought kept him from verbalizing it. "I know you're a good spirit, Touzokuo. No matter what happened, in the past."

There was a long pause, the air heavy with the spirit's presence. Ryou waited patiently, and felt a faint warmth hover over his hand when the pointer finally began to move.

"im not worth that type of faith nedjem...”

"But you are. I'm sure of if. I can feel the goodness in you," Ryou insisted.

The pointer moved restlessly, for a moment, and then spelled out, "thank you... ryou bakura...”

A pounding sounded at the door, then, and Ryou looked up sharply; didn't take his hand from the pointer.

"Bakura!" That was Atem's voice from just outside the front door. The pounding came again, harder. "Open up! Open the door, Bakura!"

"Are you okay, Ryou-kun?" came Yugi's voice. "Please let us in!"

"I wish..." Ryou whispered, feeling his hands begin to tremble; he placed both of them over the pointer. "I wish we could share a meal, Touzokuo..."

"so sweet nedjem..." was the reply, spelled out slowly. "but this is for the best... we have to say goodbye for now..."

"They'll take the board!" Ryou objected, tears in his eyes as he shook his head. "I won't! I won't say goodbye! I'll leave the board now, I'll leave the door open, and—"

"dont—" The pointer moved forcefully. "do not ryou... dont do that... do you understand..."

"Ryou, please!" came Yugi's voice, again.

There was a tremendous thud, and Atem shouted, "I'll break the door if I have to, Bakura!" Again, a crash that shook the house and undoubtedly woke a few neighbors. "Answer me, Bakura!"

"ryou dont—" the spirit said, jerking the pointer forcefully towards the "goodbye" in the corner of the board. "r-y-o-u-r-y-o-u-r-y-o-u-r-y-"

"You aren't a demon!" Ryou wailed, looking around the room as if he could see the spirit. Atem slammed into his front door again, and the wood creaked. "I won't believe it!"

A force seemed to hold Ryou's hands to the pointer, but it was weak—insistent, desperate, but feeble in the physical world. Ryou wrenched his hands away from the board and the pointer soared for "goodbye." It skittered to a halt just short of the word, and Ryou thudded back with the force of his own momentum. Atem threw his shoulder against the door again, and the cheep wood gave with a crash and shower of splinters.

"Bakura!"

"Ryou-kun!"

Ryou Bakura, however, was fixated on the board. It had begun to vibrate, and a strange little vortex of sand started to form above it even as Atem and Yugi careened, colliding with the door-frame and with each other, into the room.

"Great Ra, you didn't—!" Atem shouted, above the increasing, unnatural sound of wind. Yugi hurried to Ryou's side and helped his friend up, but Ryou pushed away when Yugi tried to pull him toward the door.

The sand began, slowly, to take form—to take the form of a man. A red robe cracked into being, scattering sand, and the man shook his head to scatter the grains from his mop of gray hair. He looked down at his powerful hands, at his chest, exposed beneath an open robe, and at his board shoulders. Then he looked up, a huge grin twisting the gruesome scar that marred the right side of his face.

"Great Anubis, I'm back! Look at this!" He held out his hands again, examining their backs and spreading his fingers. "I have missed this body so damn much!" Then his gaze fell on Ryou, eyes and smile softening to something that could only be called tender. He spread his arms. "Ryou... great gods, you are so stupid... so kind and so beautiful and so brave and so incredibly stupid... I told you not to..."

"Stay back, demon!" Atem snarled, as the Thief King moved towards Ryou. The Thief King stalled; blinked, and then began to laugh raucously. Atem indulged in looking insulted.

"Bwahahaha! You're just as tiny in this lifetime, Pharaoh! No luck in that genetic draw, ay? I think you've lost an inch or two, since we last met!"

"Fuck you," Atem spat, making a visible effort to stand straighter. "I'll kill you again, where you stand."

The Thief King's eyes widened, suddenly, and locked on the third person present, visible over Atem's shoulder; his face lost it's mocking grin, along with most of its color, and he breathed, "Prince?"

"Prince?" Yugi echoed, in confusion, and Atem moved between Yugi and the Thief King.

"Leave him out of this, monster!"

"My prince..." the Thief King breathed, and then dropped down to one knee despite Atem's furious objections. "You two are together, then... thank the gods..."

"You filthy, bastard thief!" Atem's fist drew back. "Murderer!"

"Stop!" Ryou grabbed Atem's arm as he threw all of his weight into the punch. They both lurched sideways; Atem had to fight to stay on his feet, but managed it, and flung Ryou off. Ryou yelped; fell, but never hit the ground.

Instead, he landed against the chest of the Thief King; he felt powerful arms close around him and turned to look up at that scarred face.

"Oh god, you're handsome..." Ryou breathed, before he could check himself. The Thief King blinked, dark red rising into cheeks.

"Release him, demon!" Atem shouted, and the Thief King granted him a baleful glare.

"I'm no demon, Pharaoh," he sneered, his lip curling as he set Ryou back on his own feet. He kept his hands on Ryou's shoulders, though, and Ryou didn't pull away. "I made a deal with a demon. My soul is fused with a demon. But I'm not a demon. There's a big difference, there."

"Your soul...?" Ryou breathed, and the Thief King looked down at him.

"I told you not to let me out, Ryou. I told you. If I get out, then he gets out, too."

"You make it sound like you had no say in the matter, Thief King," came a new, rumbling voice that shook the apartment walls. The Ouija board began to vibrate again—to bounce about madly on the ground. The Thief King drew Ryou closer to him, protectively, and Atem crouched slightly, head swinging around. "I never forced your hand. You made that deal with me, three millennia ago, of your own free will."

"And then you consumed me!" the Thief King snarled. "That was never part of our agreement!"

"You were a fool, to think you could hold my will at bay," the voice said, with an otherworldly chuckling. "Your bad judgement isn't my fault. I never said I'd let you keep any of your own identity."

"You never overwhelmed me, not completely," the Thief King growled, tightening his grip on Ryou's shoulders. "And you won't now, after three millennia." Ryou, without thinking, reached up and folded one hand over Touzokuo's.

"Couldn't even get rid of me in death..." the demon said, laughing again. "And then..."

"Shut up, monster!" the Touzokuo roared.

"... You swear up and down that you regret it, that you hate me, and then you go and make another deal with me, after all these hundreds of years!" The demon bellowed with laughter.

The Thief King closed his eyes; looked down, and whispered, "Three thousand years is a long time..."

"You'd make contact with a mortal, and charm them, and get them to let us both out! And then we'd both have our freedom, and you'd have your body back, and I'd have the body of whatever fool you got to open up the portal!"

Touzokuo tightened his grip on Ryou, who'd begun again to tremble. "I told him not to..." he breathed, then raised his head. "Three thousand years is a long time, but I'll take three thousand more! Not this one, Zorc!!"

The demon's laughter swelled; gained a manic pitch, and he shrieked, "Too late for that, Thief King!" The whole apartment rocked, and Touzokuo scooped Ryou bodily up. Though aware that it was probably not the time to be concerned with such things, Ryou couldn't repress a flustered wave of embarrassment as he was pressed against the Thief King's chest. A second later, the apartment floor buckled; shattered up, and Touzokuo shifted his weight expertly to keep his footing on the shards of carpeted concrete. Yugi screamed, but it was drowned in moments by the sounds of the collapse and the demon's cackling.

Ryou shut his eyes; clung to the broad-chested man who held him, and breathed in the musky desert scent of a distant Egyptian past.

The impact of landing jarred Ryou's eyes back open, and he heard the shrill shriek of the woman who lived in the apartment below him. He gasped; choked on the dust and debris, and coughed. Touzokuo's grip on him tightened almost uncomfortably. The neighbor woman paused for breath; continued to scream.

"This... is lovely..." came a chortling rumble of a voice, and Ryou looked up. A huge, draconian shape towered up through what was left of his bedroom floor; a thick, armored tail smashed into the wall, breaking through into the neighbor woman's living room.

"See, Pharaoh?" Touzokuo called over, as Atem heaved himself out of a small pile of rubble; Yugi staggered up beside him. "Not me! Clearly not me! Zorc and I are definitely not the same thing!"

"Separate, perhaps, but certainly connected." Zorc lowered his upper body to leer down at the Thief King, malevolent violet eyes glowing amid his deformed face. Touzokuo glared back, unflinching. "Selling your soul isn't without it's consequences, you know."

Ryou felt the Thief King's chest heave suddenly; clutched questioningly at Touzokuo's red robes. Touzokuo staggered; placed Ryou down, gently and deliberately, as he retched again, then sunk slowly to his knees. Zorc reached down; extended a clawed digit.

"Kneel."

Touzokuo's body lurched forward and he vomited sand and blood, one hand hitting the ground for balance. Ryou cried out and crouched beside him as the Thief King crumpled, a moment later, to his elbows.

"Damn..." Touzokuo breathed; grit his teeth and snapped, "Damn it, Ryou, why'd you have to let me out?!"

Zorc laughed as Ryou flinched back, then swung to face Atem. "I remember you—the Pharaoh! Strange how fate brings us all back together, millennia later... And even Egypt's young prince..."

Yugi straightened, even as Atem placed himself firmly in front of him. "Atem, tell me what's happening!" Yugi implored. "I had a past life with you, didn't I? Why haven't you told me?"

"Because he can't bear to recount the tragic tale of Prince Yugi of Egypt!" Zorc chortled. "But now that Prince Yugi's murderer is back among the living..."

"That's you, monster, not me!" Touzokuo snarled, pointing at Zorc. "I was only after gold! A thief! You were the killer, the demon!"

Zorc, with an almost disinterested look, flicked one claw downward, and the Thief King slammed into the ground with a curse.

"Leave him alone!" Ryou shouted, and Zorc swung to face him.

"Wait your turn, little sweet. I'll deal with you in just a moment."

"Stay back, Ryou..." Touzokuo murmured, struggling to pull himself forward, even slightly. The sight made Ryou's heart twist.

""i cant take much more of this ryou..." the spirit had said. "of being dead... i want to live again... id give anything..."

"being alive is the greatest thing... even if youre in pain... even if youre suffering... even if you have to struggle for every breath... its worth it... take it from a ghost ryou... its worth it"

"Leave him alone!" Ryou said again, striding forward towards the demon. Atem gave a shout of objection, rushing forward and grabbing his shoulders. Ryou struggled against him. "Let go of me!"

"You can't fight something like that!" Atem snapped. "We have to run!"

"Run?!" Yugi demanded, making Atem jump. "And exactly where would we go?!"

"Egypt," Atem answered, his eyes wild. "There are artifacts, there, that can—"

"Atem, we can't make it all the way to Egypt with something like that chasing us!" Yugi said, exasperated, with a gesture toward Zorc.

"He'll make a useful distraction," Atem declared, motioning to where the Thief King still struggled to lift himself from the ground. Touzokuo grinned sardonically.

"However I can be of service, Pharaoh..." he wheezed out, and Ryou wrenched again at Atem's grip.

"Then I'll stay behind, too!" Ryou snapped, and Atem rounded on him.

"Don't even—!" he began, but was cut off by a scream—Yugi's scream. "Yugi!"

Zorc's hand swept in; plucked Yugi up, like a doll, and held him aloft. Atem instantly released Ryou and started forward.

"Did you expect me to just wait until you finished your little quarrel?" the demon asked, with a chuckle that rattled what was left of the walls. Sirens shrieked in the distance. "Pity... look at the dear prince struggle..."

"A-Atem...!" Yugi cried out, and then gasped in pain as Zorc's grip around him tightened.

"Damn...!" Atem's hands formed fists, but it was a largely useless gesture. He closed his eyes. “Great Ra not again!”

Ryou’s hearing faded, as he watched Zorc give Yugi a sadistic little shake; he heard Atem’s defiant shouting, but only faintly. Turning, he looked at the King of Thieves—at the resurrected spirit, Touzokuo, driven cruelly to the ground beneath the weight of the deal he had made; struggling to rise despite the hopelessness of it.

With a strange lightness, Ryou started forward; walked, calmly and deliberately, toward the demon-god Zorc.

“Bakura! Get back!” That was Atem—Ryou ignored him. “Bakura!”

“Ryou...!” Touzokuo’s cry was far more tremulous; it didn't suit him, and it pierced Ryou's heart. But he didn't look back at the King of Thieves.

"Zorc?" Ryou called up, and the demon rumbled; Yugi choked as Zorc's grip tightened around him.

"Yes, little one?"

"Would you accept me as tribute? Will you release Touzokuo's soul, if I give you myself?"

"Ryou!" Touzokuo shouted again, and then cried out roughly.

Ryou didn't turn to see what had happened; kept his gaze on Zorc Necrophades. "I'll give you my body. So please, release him."

Zorc chuckled—a deep rumble that made bits of rubble bounce against the ground. "What gives you the impression that I wouldn't take that for myself, regardless?"

"Wouldn't my willingness make it simpler?" Ryou asked. He couldn't feel his feet touching the ground. He slid one hand into his pocket; held the other out in a gesture of surrender. "I offer myself as tribute. Isn't that what every god desires the most?"

Zorc laughed again. "Perhaps... perhaps." He let Yugi fall—a violent thing, Yugi's body striking the ground before he had the time to gasp out more than half a cry. Atem screeched his name, but Ryou didn't look back; didn't allow himself to look at Yugi, either. He just began walking, again, toward Zorc. "Come, then. I'll use your body to finish the job and kill your precious friends."

Ryou heard Touzokuo choke out his name once again; didn't let himself dwell on it. He concentrated on the slight scratch of wood against his chest, and ran his thumb over the smooth plastic of the object in his pocket. He couldn't afford an unsteady hand. He couldn't afford to flinch.

Zorc's flesh was like decaying crocodile hide; it reeked of rotten meat, and Ryou held his breath as Zorc allowed him to step into his palm. Ryou staggered down onto one knee as he was lifted close to the demon-god's face, but he stared into the blazing hellfire eyes without flinching; didn't allow himself to look away. His pulse quickened.

"So, little sweet..." Zorc rumbled, and licked his lips. He brought Ryou closer—close enough to be bathed in the demon's rank breath. "You'll—"

Ryou moved—his left hand yanking the pendant from around his neck, his right jerking the lighter from his pocket and flicking the wheel. The amulet—the one he always wore during sessions, the one made of anise seeds and holly and rosemary and St. John's Wort all wrapped up in a dried, woven amaranth plant—caught fire like the kindling it was. Ryou flung it, with all the strength he had, into Zorc’s open mouth.

For a second, as the flaming object flew, there was perfect stillness. Ryou watched it sail into the dark cavern, dimming in the dank shadow, and then it struck the back of Zorc’s mouth in an explosion of color and sparks.

Zorc roared; threw his head back and dropped Ryou, both hands flying up. As Ryou fell, he saw Zorc’s throat erupt in blazing rainbow, as though fireworks had been set off inside it. His body felt weightless, and it occurred to him that the fiery explosion was beautiful; his white hair whipped up, obscuring his vision, and he braced for the coming impact.

Ryou thudded into something soft; heard a pained, “Oof!” and felt something crumple beneath him. Bits of putrid demon-flesh came pattering down, followed by larger chunks, and Ryou was vaguely aware of being bundled backwards. Zorc’s body was beginning to steam, noxious miasma making it difficult to breathe, and Ryou clapped his hands over his mouth and nose.

“Pharaoh!” came Touzokuo’s rough shout near Ryou’s ear. “Have you got the prince?”

Atem shouted an affirmation, and Ryou felt Touzokuo pick up speed. There was a cacophony of wet crunching, then a tremendous crash behind them, and Touzokuo staggered. Atem reached the front door first—which the neighbor woman, presumably as she fled, had left wide open—and darted out into the hallway. Touzokuo was right behind him, though he stumbled again.

“I can walk...!” Ryou said, and the King of Thieves let him reluctantly down. Hand-in-hand, they raced after Atem toward the stairwell. The sirens were ear-splitting, by then, overpowering the sound of people shouting and screaming. Atem struggled with the door to the stairs, his arms occupied with Yugi; Touzokuo shouldered him aside to open it, but let Atem go through first. Once Ryou was through, next, Touzokuo slammed and locked the door behind them.

For a moment, there was only the harsh sounds of breathing—everything else muffled slightly by the stairwell. Yugi had regained consciousness, though he still appeared dazed. Atem set him gently down, then jerked his head towards the downwards steps.

“Back to our place. Now.”

Atem didn’t wait for acknowledgement, simply started downward.

Touzokuo glanced at Ryou, who nodded; squeezed Touzokuo’s calloused hand. “We can’t stay here,” he murmured. Together they followed Atem, slipping out of the building. Most of the emergency vehicles were crowed on the main road, in front of the building, so it was easy to slip through the back allies. The apartment that Atem and Yugi shared was only a couple of blocks away, and together the four of them ran. Touzokuo's hand never left Ryou's.

Atem motioned them all toward a side entrance of the building, pushing Yugi and then Ryou though the door. Touzokuo released Ryou's hand at last, pausing to stare at the once-King of Egypt. Ryou stumbled to a halt, turning back, but stayed instinctively silent as the two stared at one another.

"Get in," Atem said, jerking his head.

"You trust me enough to let me into your house?" Touzokuo asked.

Atem gave a harsh laugh. "Only if you trust me enough to enter. I've killed you once already."

Touzokuo's lip curled. "Fair."

Atem scowled; said, "Get in!" again, and this time gave Touzokuo's shoulder a rough shove in that direction. Ryou hurried forward to intervene, but Touzokuo only chuckled as he complied. Atem closed the door behind them, then let Yugi lead them up the stairs.

"You aren't hurt, Ryou?" Yugi asked, as he ushered Ryou and Touzokuo into the apartment.

Ryou shook his head; watched as Touzokuo wandered into the living room, but then turned to Yugi. "No. A bit shaken, that's all. You? That was a nasty fall you took..."

"I'm fine, I'm fine! You were incredible!" Yugi grasped Ryou's hands. "You took him down! We all would've...!"

Ryou shrugged, growing slightly uncomfortable with the praise. "I mean... I summon spirits. I've thought about worse-case scenario before. I was prepared, that's all."

"Prepared to fight a demon-god?" Touzokuo asked, from where he'd plunked down onto the couch. "Y'never would've needed to if you hadn't let me out, though."

"That wasn't an option!" Ryou said, surprised by his own insistence. Touzokuo, too, seemed mildly startled, and didn't argue.

"You," Atem said, pointing to the King of Thieves. "You don't leave this room. I don't want you snooping around my house."

Touzokuo held up his hands. "As the Pharaoh commands."

Atem scowled, but then turned and stalked into the kitchen. Yugi followed, leaving Ryou to shuffle over and sit—lightly—beside Touzokuo. He glanced over; met the Thief King's limpid gray gaze.

"Are you alright?" Ryou asked softly.

"I can hear myself think clearly for the first time in three thousand years," Touzokuo said, his voice warm. He smiled, and it wasn't an entirely nice expression—it was close, though, and Ryou felt himself soften.

"I'm so glad."

... ... ...

Two weeks after the incident, Ryou moved into a new apartment—the old one, for reasons that remained unknown to authorities, had been destroyed by a demonic entity. In those two weeks of investigations and paperwork and insurance claims, Yugi and Atem had been good enough to loan out their couch to him.

Ryou didn't miss his old apartment. It had always felt a bit empty, a bit dark, sadness hanging stagnant in the air. The new apartment felt alive.

"It'll be weird not sleep smushed together on that tiny lil' couch," the King of Thieves crooned, coming up behind Ryou. He wrapped his arms around Ryou's midsection and gave it a little squeeze. "I like having our own kitchen, though."

Ryou hummed in agreement, skewering a piece of beef and offering it over his shoulder. Touzokuo snapped his teeth down on the chopstick, then murmured with delight at the taste. He swallowed, then kissed Ryou on the cheek.

They shared supper at their dining room table, then retired to the bedroom. Though it wasn't as small as the couch in Atem and Yugi's apartment, the full-size bed was still cozy and intimate, and they cuddled together beneath the blankets.

"I love you, Ryou..." Touzokuo breathed, nuzzling into the crook of Ryou's neck.

Ryou laughed softly; kissed Touzokuo's forehead. "I love you, too. I'm so glad you found me."

Touzokuo scoffed. "Idiot... just... no Ouija boards in this house. Ever."

"Never," Ryou swore, and he meant it. There would be no need.

[anakinskywallcrawler-blog]

Stutterin’ Pete {4} -Peter Parker x Reader-

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 

Part 4!

Fandom: Marvel / Marvel MCU / Spider-Man

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: The deed is done, you and Peter have slept together. The real challenge begins, the thoughts of relationships and publicly being a couple spring up. More importantly, can you still be best friends now that you’ve slept together? It’s something you would like to happen more than the one time. Peter seems to agree. Both of you hate hiding it from Ned and Michelle. Neither of you knows exactly what to say to each other or to your friends.

Warnings?: A little smutty. ;)

When you woke up the next morning, you were alone. You felt a sharp pang in your chest. Why had Peter left? You looked over at your alarm clock. It was still early enough for you to have a shower and make yourself some breakfast before you had to catch the train.

You fidgeted anxiously at the train stop. Why were you nervous to see Peter? You had never been this nervous to see him. He had always been a source of comfort. But at the moment, you were consumed with the question of why Peter had left. Surely it wasn’t a big deal. Perhaps he had just left to get ready for school?

Or he freaked out and ran, maybe he’ll never speak to you ever again? You shuddered at the thought of your friendship with Peter ending. You didn’t even know what you would do with yourself. No. You and Peter’s relationship was fine. If kissing didn’t do anything to you, sleeping together shouldn’t be that different.

Ugh, who were you kidding..? Losing your virginity was a big deal for pretty much everyone. Let alone losing it to your best friend only a day after your first kiss. You hadn’t even realized how fast you two had moved until you stood away and looked in. But no matter what, you didn’t feel any regret. If it had to be anyone, you wanted it to be Peter.

What if that meant your friendship was over? Would you want it to be someone else then??

Peter never showed up at the train station. You almost didn’t get on the train so consumed with worry for where he was. He didn’t show up for the first half of the school day either. You finally gave in while eating lunch with Ned and Michelle and asked them if they had heard anything.

“Oh yeah he’s-” Ned stopped “At Stark’s.” He said

“Hmm.” Michelle muttered obviously not believing Ned.

“So, the Internship interferes with school now?” You asked raising your brows.

“It’s important work, you know.”

“No, I don’t think we would.” Michelle interjected. “Since he never talks about it.”

“Trust me, okay? Plus, he said he would be here after lunch.” Suddenly you were nervous again.

“Did you do something different to your hair?” You realized Michelle was talking to you.

“Um.. no. Why?” You asked fiddling with the loose strands. Michelle looked you over once more before shrugging.

“I dunno, you just look different.” She said picking at her fries making little red  swirls with her ketchup.

“She’s right. There is something different about you.” Ned agreed.

I’m not a virgin anymore. Is that it? Is it true then? You can tell when someone had “gotten lucky” the night before or lost their virginity..?

“I didn’t do anything.” You said flinching at your defensive tone. You didn’t want to think that You and Peter sleeping together could change anything. Not even your appearance.

You almost didn’t notice him come in. Almost. Plus you had seen him walking across the field from the train stop only minutes before, your heart heavy.  

He plopped down on his stool between you and Ned a couple seconds before the final bell rang signalling the beginning of class. You were relieved when Ms. Warren started right away instead of waiting long enough so that you would have to face Peter. Usually, Peter wouldn’t talk during lessons.

Usually.

“Psst.” He poked your arm with the eraser end of his pencil. You jumped.

“Y-Yeah?” You said not able to look at him he leaned closer to you to make sure no one heard.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning. I heard your parents moving around in the morning. I didn’t want to get you in trouble so I slipped out.” He whispered. “I really wanted to be there when you woke up.” He said you smiled at how genuine his voice sounded. Turning to look at him finally.

“Good. I thought I had scared you off.” You whispered back.

“If kissing you didn’t scare me off,” He looked around nervously checking if anyone was eavesdropping but you were being quiet enough. “What makes you think sleeping with you would be any different?” He said

“I don’t know because its not kissing..” You said fiddling with your pencil. “It’s… sex.” You said

“Hey,” He reached over and placed a hand on your arm. “I wanted it just as much as you did. I mean, it’s not like you pulled me down that fire escape and into your bed by my ear.” He said you laughed covering your mouth quickly but it was too late. Warren had scoped you and Peter out.

“Peter… Y/N.. Anything you would like to share with the rest of us?”

“No, Ms. Warren. Sorry for interrupting. I just needed an eraser.” You said

“Oh, I didn’t know erasers were so humorous.” She said

“They aren’t ma’am.” You said lowering your head in embarrassment.

“Speaking of things that aren’t I realized that you and Mr. Parker hadn’t handed in yesterdays homework assignment.” She said the class cooed.

“Oh… um..” You gaped. You didn’t even know there was a homework assignment. She wasn’t calling out Ned either so obviously Ned had done it quickly after taking the Death Star home from Peter’s.

“Thirty minutes detention for the two of you after school.” She said you and Peter both nodded, embarrassed and ashamed.

Ned said goodbye to the two of you as you reached the detention room, Peter led the way as you approached the very bored looking teacher in charge of detention.

“Names?” He said Peter gave you a look glancing down at the list. There were only two names on it. Peter’s and your’s. You rolled your eyes. Peter shrugged.

“Peter Parker.” He said he looked at you, he literally looked at you asking for your name.

“Y/N.” You told him. He nodded marking the list before gesturing to the open room, you and Peter headed down a row looking for seats.

“Not together.” The teacher spoke up as you reached the corner. “You,” He pointed at Peter. “Over there.” Peter moved four desks to your left with a sigh dropping his backpack on the floor beside him. He immediately leaned forward folding his arms on the desktop resting his chin on them.

Thirty minutes. You kept telling yourself. Thirty minutes.

You decided to do the only sensible thing you could do at that moment.

Stare at Peter.  

His body was the perfect specimen. Long lean legs, a built torso defined with muscles that you honestly wouldn’t predict a kid like him to have under all of the sweaters and hoodies he liked to wear. Speaking of under his clothes.. You bit your lip thinking about how you had seen that perfect specimen, naked. You looked at his hand that was looped around his arm holding his elbow secure. He had amazing hands. They weren’t bony but they weren’t sausages either, not hairy… You couldn’t help but think about those hands all over you.

You must have let out an audible sound because Peter turned his head to look at you, you felt your face burn with a blush.

“After,” You mouthed to him “My place.” You gestured to yourself. A slow smirk pulled at his mouth.

“Twenty-five minutes.” He mouthed back with a wink.

“That was the longest thirty minutes of my life.” You muttered as you led the way out of the classroom. The supervisor barely muttering a farewell.

“Mmhm.” Peters muttered in agreement. The clatter of the door closing behind Peter’s back echoed down the hall. Everyone had cleared out.

“Can we-” cut off by a pull on your wrist as Peter pulled you around the corner and backed you into the wall.

“PDA isn’t usually one of my favourite things,” He panted cupping your face. “But staring at you for thirty minutes thinking about what we were going to do to each other once we got to your apartment… I just… I need this.” He said dragging his thumb across your lips.

“So then shut up and do it.” You said you leaned up towards him, he pulled away. He shook his head.

“Here?” He said panting slightly as you kissed his neck just below his jawline, nipping at his chin. “Of all places…” He said as you held his neck placing your head on the back on it and covering it in kisses. His breath shuddered as you hit his weak spot just below his ear. His hands squeezed your hips and pressed them against the wall before pinning them there with his hips. Holding your face in his, he brought your lips together anxiously. You immediately dropped your hands to his waist, dipping down to playfully grab his bum. He pressed his hips deeper into your, his leg parting your knees. You drew in a sharp breath. Feeling awfully exposed due to the fact that you were wearing a skirt. The tingling sensation of the rough fabric of his jeans causing friction with your panties. He continued to dominate your mouth. You slipped your hands up the back of his button up and soft blue sweater, feeling the warm smooth skin of his back. Smirking against his mouth feeling the slightly raised lines from where you had scratched him the night before.

You both froze when you heard the door slam again. It was the detention supervisor leaving for the day.

“Shit.” Peter panted peeking around the corner. “We’re technically trespassing.” He said taking your hand. “Come on.” He said and started to jog down the hall towing you behind him.

You were going to lose your mind any second now. The kiss from the hallway still fresh on your minds as you two boarded the crowded train. even worse as you were forced to stand in front of Peter so you both could hold the bar. Able to feet his body heat through his clothes and yours. You couldn’t really think of anything else. There was an old lady with her grandson in the elevator so you couldn’t do one of those classic elevator kisses on your way up, Peter did reach over and pinch your butt though. Smirking to himself as you nudged him. When the elevator doors opened you practically barrelled over the little old lady and tugged Peter down the hall. You fumbled with your keys as Peter kissed your neck.

Finally managing to get the apartment door open, you pulled him inside and slammed it, flicking the bolt across. You stood looking at each other breathless for a couple seconds.

“Bedroom?” Peter breathed

“Bedroom.” You nodded. He sprung forward lifting you up, you wrapped your arms around his hips you both laughed as he carried you down the hall, crossing the threshold of your room then kicking the door closed behind him.

He released you, you slowly moved your legs off of him. Throwing off your backpacks you started walking backwards as he walked forwards. Discarding bits off clothing like your shoes, socks and you reached over pulling Peter’s shirts off. Messing up his hair in the process. Using your skirt zipper as an excuse to switch directions with him, you pulled the zipper down and let the skirt fall to a pool at your feet as he eyed you. You stepped out of the fabric moving forward smirking as you shoved his shoulders. He gasped as the backs of his legs hit the side of your bed and he went tumbling down. Landing on his bed with a thud, you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. He arched his back up to meet your kiss, leaning away you slid your hands up his front as he tightened is grip on your hips as you began to move them in the slightest bit. It was enough for Peter to notice as his back ached again, his stomach rising and falling with a heavy intake of breath. You liked having this power over him, knowing how strong he was and solid, having him weakened by a simple movement and your tiny body weight, it filled you with some erotic sensation to have him at your mercy. You started to move your hips faster and Peter’s lips parted as he pressed his head back into the pillows. Leaning forward, running your hands across his washboard abdomen and onto his pecks you leaned down kissing him, maintaining the momentum of your hips, your mind telling you to move in circles. Peter actually groaned as you started to do this. Your heart almost burst out of your chest hearing his desperate sound. You slowed, distracted by his breathlessness.

“No,” he said “Don’t stop.” He sat up just enough to wrap an arm around your back and lift you up enough so he could spin you onto your back, your head hit the pillows and Peter’s hips pressed against your inner thighs, the denim of his jeans having a less desirable effect. Your hips unconsciously came up to meet his as they moved, just as uncontrollably as Peter leaned down to kiss you. Already, the hot swirl of an orgasm was pooling in the pit of your stomach.

The sound of a door slamming, keys hitting the counter and your name being called caused you and Peter to spring apart like you’d been electrocuted. So much so, Peter was thrown from the bed, thumping to the floor.

“Oh shit.” You gasped rushing off the bed and picking up your skirt. You tossed Peter his shirts and pulled your skirt on tugging the zipper back up.

“Yeah!” You called back

“We’re home early. What do you want for dinner?” You heard your mother’s voice it sounded like it was getting closer. Peter was already at your desk opening your laptop. You caught his drift and tanked a notebook out of the desk drawer to make it look like you were doing homework.

“We can order in.” Your mother’s voice was now dangerously close as you quickly typed your password in and smoothed down Peter’s tossled hair. “I was thinking maybe that Chinese place…” Her voice faltered as she pushed the door open and saw that you had company.

“Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N.” He said

“Hi, Peter.” Your mom greeted him with a smile. Although it carried the same look at usual behind her eyes. Sadness. Your parents had known Peter’s. The four of them worked at Oscorp. She always said that Peter was the spitting image of his father and it always made her heart heavy to see him.

“Sorry, I should have called to let you guys know I was having Peter over. It was just a last minute assignment.” You said mentally kissing Peter for already having research databases open on your computer when your mom looked at it.

“What’s it on?” She asked genuinely curious.

“So, does she want Chinese?” Your dad appeared over your mom’s shoulder. A kind smile stretching across his lips showing laugh lines he had developed over the years. “Hey, Pete.” He said

“Hey, Mr. Y/L/N.” He said

“Do you kids want Chinese?”  

You thought your parents were never going to leave as your dad pulled out his cell to place the order as your mom quickly took down you and Peter’s order. When the door shut again, yeah your parents were that cool… Peter spun in your desk chair looking up at you.

“Sorry, I know they’re a little over bearing.” You said blushing.

“That’s not why I’m looking at you.” He said “C’mere.” He tugged you down onto his lap. Your knees planted on either side of him. Getting comfortable, you slipped your legs around his waist and the back of the chair bringing you even closer. His large hands grazed over your thighs and dipped under your skirt reaching around to grab your butt and push your hips together. Your body tensed up, that friction you felt from his jeans through the thin fabric of your underwear returning. Filling you with erotic arousal, making your eyelids heavy. You could feel that Peter was having the same reaction from the stiffness in his lap.

“M-My parents are ri-right d-down the h-hall.” You found yourself stuttering. He leaned up, giving you a kiss, slowly leaning away.

“I can be quiet. You?” He said

“Silent.” You nodded you lifted yourself onto your knees as Peter slipped off his jeans and boxers, pulling them down passed his knees. You were just wondering how you were going to get your undies off when you heard a tearing sound. With a sudden friction of the fabric being dragged out from under you you gasped quietly as Peter’s hand came away with your underwear, now torn.

“I liked those.” You murmured.

“I’m impatient.” Peter muttered discarding the panties, He leaned up kiss you as he grabbed your hips easing you down. Before you could cry out, Peter’s mouth was gone and his hand was clasped over your mouth. Your hands were shaking from holding the fistfuls of Peter’s sweater so tightly. “Be quiet.” He whispered slowly removing his hand as you nodded. His hand returned to your hips and you bit your lip, body tensing as he began to guide their movement, meeting them with his, slowly and teasingly. You wanted to cry out, tell him to go faster, he was driving you crazy but you didn’t trust your voice. You started to follow his rhythm, meeting each of his small thrusts. His head fell back his mouth open, you leaned down planting a kiss on his Adam’s apple. “Be quiet, remember?” You whispered in his ear nipping at his earlobe with your teeth. You jerked your hips roughly cutting off his reply. “Shh.. Peter.” You breathed he wrapped his arms around your body fully, pulling you against him completely. You hooked your ankles together behind the chair. Shoving your face in the crook of Peter’s neck. Your mouth open as you panted quietly. Peter was still guiding your hips, but to your relief he was moving them at a quicker pace. You shoved your hands into his hair trying to control your breathing. You felt the warm swirl of a climax start to swell in the pit of your stomach again.

“P-Peter.” You breathed in his ear. “I want you to go faster.” He obliged.Your back arched forward as you through your head back briefly before sitting up again, meeting Peter’s deeper thrusts with your own.

“I-I’m gunna… I’m gunna..” You could barely breath out in a whisper.

“Me too.” He said he grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged clasping his mouth to yours, you reached behind his head and gripped the back of the chair to squeeze it as you reached your release. Peter held you against him as he reached and rode out his. Both of your breathing heavily, you leaned back. You didn’t say anything for a while, just sat there looking into each other’s tired eyes. Peter reached one hand up, cradled your cheek and kissed you gently.

Eating Chinese food with your parents a half an hour later was awkward as can be expected. At least you and Peter had each had time to go to the bathroom and clean up and allow the blush to leave your cheeks before having to sit with your parents. Peter kept up steady conversation with your father about Stark Industries, one of Oscorp’s competitors. You and your mother just looked on fondly watching as your nerds communicated.

After dinner, it was time for Peter to “go”. Which meant he was just going to go upstairs say goodnight to aunt May and climb out his window and come to your room so you could cuddle and talk for a while before you went to sleep. This time, Peter had changed into sweats and taken off the button up shirt underneath his blue sweater. You cozied up to him easily. The two of you talked for hours and after a while you were quiet, just laying in Peter’s arms, your face against the warm skin of his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head as he rubbed your back. That’s how you fell asleep that night. Wrapped in the warmth and security of your favourite person in the world. You hoped this would never end.

[madmaddy-life]

that bunch of questions answered.

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? Nah. I usually doubt my OWN existence... I know I imagined some people into reality, but what if someone imagined me?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? 0. It’s the dark that have to be afraid of me.

3. The person you would never want to meet? Most of my old school enemies. I’d just kill them, so it’s better to never see them again.

4. What is your favorite word? Fuck.

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? Oak. I like Oaks. (or maple... Cool tree too)

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? I don’t look in the mirror unless I just have to. And I don’t have to. Usually I think “Hello, Ugly piece of shit.”

7. What shirt are you wearing? I wear teal green nightshirt, wtih two crowns and stars.

8. What do you label yourself as? Hate labels. They’re stupid. 

9. Bright room or dark room? Depends. If it’s the room is bright because of the sun, and not lamps - then yes, bright room. If it’s dark because the lights is off, and I can turn it on - then okay too...

10. What were you doing at midnight last night? Sleeping. 

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? It all sucks, if I can remember. So - 5 years. I can’t remember what was then.

12. Who told you they loved you last? My mom. No one else does.

13. Your worst enemy? Me, myself. (also those assholes who make fun of me, my friends, and\or who’s unfair to everyone.)

14. What is your current desktop picture? Some autumn leafs and a fence.

15. Do you like someone? Yes, I do. But they’re taken. Yay me for being unlucky..

16. The last song you listened to? “I hate everyone” by Get Set Go. Heh.

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? If I could press that button - all humanity would be dead by now. Cuz, why play favourites, when everyone deserves a nice blow... Kekeke.

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? All those school morons. And all those college assholes. And all of the dipshits who annoy me...

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? Hahah. I’d either have one of my friends as a slave, and then just have them to be nice to me, and\or fuck... OR I’d have someone I don’t like as a slave, and just make them clean everything in my flat.

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) Hands. And maybe eyes... (that’s all I like about myself really.)

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? The same. I look pretty gender neutral. So, nothing would’ve changed.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? I don’t have any secret talents. All of my talents are out, and dangling about...

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? It’s not unique - I’m afraind of asphyxia.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. Peanut butter sandwich. I like peanut butter, and it’s too expensive here.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? MARKERS. I WILL BUY MARKERS. Or some other art supplies. (Or maybe snacks.)

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? England. I wanna see it all.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? Jack Daniels whiskey. Give it to me.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? “No one is allowed on my island, exept ME.” That’s gonna be the single rule. I don’t need no stinking society on MY ISLAND.

29. What is your favorite expletive? FUCK }: D

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? Probably my laptop (or hard drive). All of my work in there. And I value it too much.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? Myself. I am a horrible experience.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! Let’s see. If I really do have time-traveling powers (and super-powers) I won’t give a shit about someone trying to get me kicked out of the country. No one has the power to do so. So, no problem. If that’s all a lie - then I’ll just move anywhere...

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? My grand dad.

34. What was your last dream about? I and a group of people were searching for an underground buker, to get to safety. When we get there, and open all doors - turns out that the bunker is flooded, and we can’t stay there. And the only thing I can do to keep my group safe - is to climb on the roof of nearby abandoned building and cover their retreat with a shiper rifle...

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? ... at anything at all? Yes. Yes I am.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? HA. HAHAH. Let’s COUNT. Not less than five times.

37. Have you ever built a snowman? Sure. It was a year ago. Or maybe two. I can’t remember.

38. What is the color of your socks? Usually - gray. Or black. Or brown-ish.

39. What type of music do you like? It’s hard to explain. I like some specific tunes.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? Sunsets. I’m always alseep at sunrises.

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? I don’t drink milkshakes. Like, at all.

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer) Don’t watch sports. It’s boring for me...

43. Do you have any scars? A lot. I have a lot of tiny scars on my hands, from paper knife (and cats). One on my right elbow, from a nail - I fell on it. One on my left leg - I dropped a metal pipe from vacuum cleaner. And four scars on my belly from a surgery - got my gallbladder removed.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? I already did that. And I don’t have any wishes... I was thinking about vandalising the walls of my institute. Maybe later I’ll do that. It was a shitty place.

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? I’d remove lasyness.

46. Are you reliable? Not really. I do things if I want to. If I don’t - I won’t.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? what the fuck happened to you?

48. Do you hold grudges? YES. Yes I do. I freaking hate people for the shit they’ve done to me... And I’d make them pay, if I saw them again.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? An owldog. A flying dog-like birb, who’s very faithfull.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? Hmm, I’m not sure I’ve had one. Like, I’m okay with pretty much everything. I’ve been talking about a lot of stuff many concider unusual, weird of wicked.

51. Are you a good liar? Yes. I lie a lot...

52. How long could you go without talking? I barely talk. So I can be silent for many days.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style? Short bang on the front (ridiculously short. My hair would stand up), with long hair on the back.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake? Not yet. But I baked cupcakes.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own? I think so. I never really tried.

56. What do you like on your toast? MEAT. I like meat on anything.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? Two guys fucking. }X D That’s USUALLY what I draw.

58. What would be you dream car? Flying DeLorean that can go back in ti~iiime! }X )

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. I don’t sing. I just sit and listen to the water running down. The sound is soothing.

60. Do you believe in aliens? Sure. Why not. The universe is fucking big, who the heck knows what else is in there.

61. Do you often read your horoscope? Nah. I don’t believe in THAT. (But in aliens - I do. Lol)

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? Hmmm. M.

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? Dinosaurs. They EXISTED.

64. What do you think about babies? UGH. BLEUGH. WWWeeeeh! }X P

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of. DICKS. DICKS-DICKS-dicks. < u >

[rebelmeg]

65 Questions You Aren't Used To

(I know, it’s an ask meme, but... I just kinda want to do them all.  I LOVE this kinda stuff, it’s like writing a nifty journal entry for people that suck at journals, like me.)

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?  Um, no... they’re right there.

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?  1.  I’m very comfortable in the dark.

3. The person you would never want to meet?  Donald Trump was the first to spring to mind.

4. What is your favorite word?  Popcorn.  (Because it visually appeals to me, and it feels nice to say.  I know, that made literally zero sense.  I know.)

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?  I always fancied myself a weeping willow, but there is literally nothing willowy about me.  Ooh, ooh, can I be a fruitless pear tree?!  They turn every color from yellow to purple in autumn and they’re so pretty!

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?  Probably something like, “Ew,” or “I need to shower,”.

7. What shirt are you wearing?  It’s cute!  It’s a gray tunic with a deep V in the front with lacing, and the words, “I’d Rather Not.”

8. What do you label yourself as?  Writer.

9. Bright room or dark room?  Bright when I’m working, dim when things are winding down, dark as sin when sleeping.

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?  Same thing I’m doing now, screwing around on Tumblr when I should be finishing up and going to bed.

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? 17 was a good year for me, I found the other half of my heart.  Everything before and after was basically a crap shoot.

12. Who told you they loved you last?  My daughters.

13. Your worst enemy?  Probably myself.

14. What is your current desktop picture?  It’s doing a slideshow through my saved file of New Years pictures.

15. Do you like someone?  Romantically, just my hubby.  He’s awfully cute.

16. The last song you listened to?  Listening to “U and Ur Hand” by P!nk right now.

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?  No one wants me to have this responsibility.

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? I could prepare a list...

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?  Oh geez, I have no idea.  Who wants to be my slave and clean my house?

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)  My eyes!  I have pretty eyes.

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?  I’ve got no idea what I’d look like, I’ve got too much boob and hip going on.  I’ll be honest, I’d have to have at least one orgasm, because I’ve always wondered what the difference is.  

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?  Secret?  Not really, I’m pretty open with all my talents.  

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?  Family members dying.  I’ve never had a close family member die, and I’m like... ridiculously afraid of that (especially my husband and kids), especially since I’m deeply religious.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.  The #11 at Jimmy Johns, plus bacon.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?  Probably on something stupid.  Discount Christmas shirts (I only have one), stuff on my wish.com list and Amazon list, that kind of thing.  Takeout from Arby’s.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?  Europe!

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?  Um... yeah, I don’t drink so... maybe the rarest, most expensive liquor known to man.  I’ll sell it and be rich.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?  No littering.

29. What is your favorite expletive?  I can’t say, I’m trying to quit.  (And it’s a bad one.)  If we’re doing PG rated expletives, I’ve taken to using “son of a nutcracker” and “oh my honk” pretty frequently...

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?  LAPTOP.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?  I know what it is.  But I’m not telling all y’all because it’s horrifically embarrassing.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!  SCOTLAND.  It only gets, like, into the 70′s there in the summer.  I can dig that.  I’m a freaking polar bear.  (Do I get to pick the celebrities I get to fictionally sleep with, because I’ve prepared a list...)

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?  Like, for a visit, or for permanent?  Because that’s different.  If it was for a visit, I’d bring back one of my two grandparents that have died.  I have QUESTIONS.  If it was for permanent... if an early term, miscarried baby counts, I’d bring back mine.

34. What was your last dream about?  I only get dreams when I’m in that weird “not 100% sleep” state, and man are they bizarre.... and I rarely remember them, but you can trust me that it was weird.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?  Yes.  Yes I am.  Exceptionally.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?  Several times, yeah.  Most of them for baby things.  (I had the baby, I was not the baby.)

37. Have you ever built a snowman?  Oh yes.  Not yet this year though, not a really awesome snowfall yet, just a few inches.

38. What is the color of your socks?  I’m wearing neon pink and navy blue Black Widow socks that I got from my hubby for Christmas!

39. What type of music do you like?  Most of it.  Seriously.  Country, rock, pop, oldies, alternative, instrumental, show tunes, classical, movie scores, Disney, Celtic and Irish.... seriously.  Most of it.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?  Sunsets, sunrises are full of tiredness.

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?  Depends on my mood, really.

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)  I... don’t.  I’m not a sports person unless the Olympics are involved.

43. Do you have any scars?  Lots, yeah.  Biggest is my c-section scar(s), my favorite is the one on my middle finger from when I sliced it open trying to set up a trampoline.  Pro tip, wear gloves, because those springs can slice your finger open when pulled back and loosed.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?  I’ve already graduated (high school, never went to college and I don’t regret it), I wanted to be married and happy.  I’ve mostly succeeded.  Still chasing happiness, but I get the golden moments enough that I can call it successful.

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?  Probably body size, mostly because they don’t have a lot of cute clothes in my size and I have no power to change that sad standard.

46. Are you reliable?  Almost 100%, yes.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?  How does Infinity War and Avengers 4 end?

48. Do you hold grudges?  Big ones, yes.  Little ones, not so much.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?  Panda peacock.  Because a cute, cuddly panda with peacock colors?  Best.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?  Someone trying to goad me into participating in one of their infantilization fantasies that made me feel extremely uncomfortable.

51. Are you a good liar?  I’m an excellent liar.  I shouldn’t be proud of that.  I am.

52. How long could you go without talking?  Does talking to myself count, because I do that a lot...

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?  The awkward between-phase after I did a shoulder-length bob and needed to grow it out again after my perm started to lose strength too.  Poof.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?  Tons of times.  I made my own birthday cake this year.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?  I do a pretty decent British (a few dialects), I can pull of Australian, Irish, Scottish, New Zealand, French, and occasionally Russian or German, as long as I get a good audio clip first to jump off of.

56. What do you like on your toast?  Butter, or butter with jam/jelly or cinnamon sugar.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?  A terrible sketch of Marty the zebra from Madagascar for my three year old.

58. What would be you dream car?  A big honking pick-up truck with the full backseat and excellent gas mileage and fuel efficiency.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.  Okay, the way that is worded is hilarious.  I do sing sometimes, when I’ve got music going, but I am pretty quiet since neighbors.  I don’t usually do anything unusual, except sticking my loose hairs to the wall so I can wad them up and throw it all away rather than it going down the drain and clogging it.

60. Do you believe in aliens?  Not in the traditional sense, but I know we’re not alone.  It’s based in religion.

61. Do you often read your horoscope?  Rarely.  When it pops up in magazines from last year or whatever.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?  M, probably, for my name.  And, fun trivia, M is the 13th letter of the alphabet, which puts it smack in the middle.

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?  DRAGONS.  I’d have a dragon as a pet if I could.  Hagrid and Charlie Weasley would be over all the time.

64. What do you think about babies?  They’re cuuuute.  Most of the time.  Mine were cutest.

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.  If anyone thinks of something, do ask me.  I seriously love this stuff!

[lubdubsworld]

The Unfaithful wife ( Jimin /OC)

Chapter 6

“Your sister won’t mind watching Jin Soo?” I asked nervously, lowering myself into the front seat and putting on the seatbelt with trembling fingers, i glanced at him. He was looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Are you alright? If you want , I can send someone else to take care of the bakery for the day. We can take the day off and get some rest…” He said huskily, reaching out and lightly rubbing the back of his fingers against my cheek, making me flush. I shook my head quickly, turning my face away. His fingers fluttered down , rested on my thigh lightly stroking my legs through the fabric of my soft blue dress. I quickly grabbed his wrist, stilling him.

“I’m okay. It’s getting late.” I said softly. He nodded and pulled away , but not before stroking the back of my head. After a few minutes of silence he sighed.

“I know its going to be hard. I just… I thought if we want it enough. Both of us , we can make it work. You know what i mean?” He said softly. I glanced at him. He looked handsome , the ebony hair falling in messy bangs across his forehead, the faded brown eyes looking a little too uncertain. He was dressed in a black button down shirt and nice jeans that shaped his muscular legs . He was beautiful, I thought with a pang. And no matter what anyone says, its invariably harder to reject a beautiful person.

“I.. I’ll try.” I said bleakly. “ That’s all I can promise.’

"That’s more than I hoped for.” He smiled.

I turned away, heart aching . It wasn’t that I resented him . I just knew , now that someone, had actually deliberately set out to wreck our marriage. Someone had meticulously built a trail, phonecalls, jewelry recipts, fake jewelry hidden without my knowledge, flower bouquets that apparently Jimin had noticed around the house. Stupid , everyday things, manipulated to give the impression of a cheating wife. I hadn’t know that five years ago. Hadn’t even noticed that Jimin had suspected me of cheating for weeks. too filled with righteous indignation to ask the question, why  did Jimin believe I was cheating so easily. Now I knew and I felt guilty. He was as much a victim as me.

But then, there was the other, heavier implication. The one that made it so hard for me to trust Jimin. 

Had we even been real?? If we had been real, some silly little things ought not to have brought us down, right? And if we weren’t real, if we really did crumble easily at the slightest pressure, who was to say we wouldn’t do that again?

 I thought of Jimin, of the way he’d stared at me while i texted the daycare to tell that Jin Soo won’t be in for the day. He had been fresh out of the shower, towel slung low on his lean waist , towel drying his hair when he’d spotted me, on the bed, typing out the message and his gaze had pinned me to the spot. 

It was vaguely, curious with just a hint of suspicion . The heavy gaze of someone who did not like what he was seeing. 

. I’d been compelled to tell him it was just the Day care, somehow feeling accused, just by the way he was glancing at me. i didn’t deserve to be accused yes, but i couldn’t help but wonder how hard it must have been for Jimin, wondering why i’d done what I had.

If it were the other way round…

I’d never thought of it that way.

What if Jimin had been the one to stray… Or rather, what if I’d found some clues to his infidelity? Would i have believed my husband unconditionally? I bit my lips in confusion. How badly I wanted to say yes. But i knew deep down, that I may have believed them as well. Jimin was handsome. Could have any woman on the planet…

Jimin’s fingers on my knee brought me back to myself. 

“Would you like to move some of the stuff out of your apartment today? We can get all the clothes and supplies you need for Jin Soo .” He said, following me into the bakery office. i nodded, reaching for my apron and giving him a questioning glance when he perched on the table, looking around.

“Don’t you have to get back?” I said, surprised. He shrugged.

“I took a few weeks off. Thought we could bond a bit. As a family.”

I stood still.

“You don’t have to look so horrified at the prospect.” He said dryly and I shook myself from my daze.

“Of course not I.. sorry. I’m just tired.” I said .

“I told you we should have stayed in bed. ” He scolded.

“And that would be the problem..not the solution.” I rolled my eyes. He looked unrepentant, grinning brightly.

“I missed you. I deserve to indulge myself a little , after five years of celibacy.”

Despite myself a smile tugged on the corner of my lips.

“You always were insatiable..” I shook my head, moving to take a look at the days orders, while I  called my assistants and told then I won’t be in for a few days. He looked surprised and i smiled at him, moving close to hug him gently, the soothing warmth of his chest making me tremble. 

“I can make an effort too. We’re both in this..” I said kissing the edge of his shoulder.  He stroked my back briefly before drop;ping a kiss on my head. 

After giving out a few instructions, I finished taking stock and then finished working on a couple of recipes for Mrs. Min. I hesitated, a bit torn because they’d originally been for Jimin’s wedding with Mi Rae.

“Don’t think about it.” He said , appearing suddenly in front of me, making me jump.

“About what?” I frowned. 

“Whatever’s putting that look on your face…”

I sighed,  giving up on trying to be classy.

“Why were you engaged to Mi Rae.” i said bluntly.

He shrugged.

“Business only. You know how those things work…”

I did. My own marriage to him had been a business deal. He must’ve sen the way my face fell because he immediately reached out and tilted my chin up.

“Ours was different. We loved each other…” He said firmly.

Did we? I thought desperately.

Love?

What kind of love had it been, to fall right when it ought to have stood firm? To bend and break when we needed it to be strong?

“Yes. Love.” I whispered. 

Jimin brough his palm down with so much force on the table that some of the files shook and spilled onto the floor, jostling me. 

“Don’t look like that, for fuck’s sake!! … stop it! Stop looking like that. I want to see you smile. I miss that. We … we need to get out of here.  To hell with this… Come on.. I’m taking you home..” He said roughly, reaching out and pulling me up by my arm.

 i blinked and nodded. He was right. I wasn’t up for work today. i needed the day off. I quickly finished it all up, cleared the table, bid good bye to the two helpers and left emergency numbers on the table. Jimin led me to the car with a arm around my waist , guiding me gently.

I followed mutely, in a daze. It was hard because my kind kept oscillating between the past and the present, between how I’d felt before , to how I was feeling now,  to how  I wished I could feel and how I wanted to feel. It didn’t help that all those questions had different answers.

“Wait..the apartment..” I said , suddenly remembering. He hesitated but nodded, pulling the car in reverse and taking a U-turn to drive into the opposite lane. I didn’t question him about how he knew where I lived, just let it slide. Once we reached the hallway leading to my apartment I stopped. My eyes fell on the bouquet of flowers, jammed into the grill and foreboding rose inside my throat like a living thing, choking my breath.

God damn you, Lee Tae Min.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin said softly, taking my fingers in his and I felt tears sting. It seemed like the universe was conspiring against me as I shook my head stiltedly. Jimin noticed the bouquet a second later and then he went still, fingers momentarily tightening on mine. I stopped in front of the grill and he grabbed the bunch out of the grill.

“Looks like you have a present.” He said casually. 

I didn’t reply, moving to stand a bit closer to the door. I was familiar with the ebb and flow of jimin’s temper like i was of my own breathing. And angry jimin was always scary and unreasonable. 

“Who is this, LT?” He said softly.  

I swallowed. No point lying.

“It’s Tae Min.” I said softly.

He gave me a nod and looked away. 

And then he turned around and threw the thing so hard against the wall that it went to pieces, the petals tearing and ripping out of the ribbons on impact. I stopped breathing because he looked like he was ready to kill. I wanted to tell him it was stupid. It was just something the guy did no matter how much i yelled at him not to. But i couldn’t trust my voice to speak. I was also so scared he wouldn’t believe me anyway.

“Do you love him?” He said harshly.

I bit my lips so hard, I drew blood.

“No.” I whispered , staring at him. He was trembling with rage, pupils blown wide and I stared as he took a step closer. He reached out, grabbed my chin , just a little shy of being painful but enough to bruise and make my jaw clench. 

“Do you love me?” He whispered.

The tears slipped out before I could stop.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered, not knowing what I was apologizing for.

His lips pressed against mine, teeth biting down and drawing blood. I whimpered as he licked into my mouth, grabbed both my shoulders and pushed me up against the grill, the hard edges digging into my skin as he leaned his weight on me, grinding his erection against my stomach.

“Open the door.” He whispered into my ears before biting down on my earlobe. He pulled away from me, just long enough for me to open the door to the apartment.

He didn’t even let us make it to the bedroom.

“Jimin… wait..” I whimpered when he pushed me up against the wall, right next to the front door but he wasn’t really listening. Instead he kissed me fiercely, bruisingly … like he wanted to prove something. I trembled when his fingers slipped down, lifted my skirt and found the edge of my panties before slipping. I was still wet from the morning and he pushed three fingers in without preamble, making my eyes shoot open and my breath hitch.

“Have you been with anyone…here? Has anyone touched you like this ?” He panted, one hand pushing into me, thumb rubbing against my clit while the other unbuckled his pant and slid down his briefs, just enough to draw himself out.

“No…” I choked out and he bit down on my neck. I gasped when he yanked my panties to the side, so hard the fabric ripped.

He was hard, big and he pulled his fingers out of me grabbed the back of my thighs and lifted me up against him, back against the wall before lining himself up to my entrance.

“Tell me i’m the only one….The only one who gets to see you like this. The only one who gets to toucvh you like this” He whispered. The look in his eyes let me know that he was actually in physical pain as he stared at me, the hurt shining through his features so strongly that i would have said anything, done anything to stop him looking like that. That’s the curse of loving someone really, when he’s dying and you’re dying too, you will still look to soothe his pain rather than your own.

I nodded frantically and he growled.

“Say it…” the snarl in his voice made my heart lurch painfully. 

“You’re the only one…” I whispered, staring down at him, his sooty black eyes wild.

He pushed into me in one smooth slide, my breath knocked out of me as he buried himself to the hilt, giving me no time to adjust. I trembled , choking a little as I grabbed his shoulders, eyes screwing shut at the intrusion, more pain than pleasure , my body still sore and hurting. I struggled to hold my tears at bay but it was impossible.

“And I’ll be the only one… always..” He ground out, grip tightening on my waist demanding  submission. 

My eyes shot open, hurt slicing me deep. But I bit my lips.

“You’ll be the only one. Always.” I said. He pulled out and pushed back in, setting a punishing rhythm that made my spine ache and my thighs tremble. I whimpered when he came inside me, the sticky release against my thighs making me feel some kind of way.

 I swallowed the tears as he gathered me close into my arms before sinking to the floor. We were fully clothed I thought vacantly. I’d never had sex with my clothes fully on before and I couldn’t stop trembling.

“I… i shouldn’t have done that.” He said after what felt like hours of just sitting blankly, wrapped around each other and staring straight ahead. He reached out and brushed my hair back.

“Probably not.” i agreed, voice slightly raspy from disuse.

He pulled me into his lap, stroking my hair back from my temple.

“It’ll never happen again. I… I don’t know what came over me…” He swore under his breath and then kissed my cheek, open mouthed, wet .

I nodded and tried to stand up but my legs were still trembling, and I fell back against him, embarrassed.

“It’s alright, come here.” He pulled me up into his arms and carried me into the bedroom. I wasn’t even surprised when he climbed in after me, but not before pulling all the curtains open.

“What are you doing ?” I whispered.

“I want to spend the day here. With you.” He said firmly. I blinked.

“Jimin….”

“This place… I can’t help thinking how many memories you and Jin Soo have here. Was he born here?” He whispered.

I shook my head.

“I moved here after he turned eight months….” I said softly. He nodded.

“Even then , that’s nearly five years worth of memories. I just… I’m sorry i couldn’t be a part of them.” He whispered, pulling me close and wrapping his arms around me. It was surreal having him in my bed. I’d never linked this room, the peeling paint on the walls or the small , worn out furniture with Jimin. but if he spent the day here, I knew I’d never be able to think of anything else but him, ever again. i hesitated, before slowly reaching out and pressing my palm against the sharp line of his jaw.

“Are you hurt..” He whispered, turning his face around to kiss the inside of my palm.

I hesitated, before shaking my head.

“I want to make memories with you. and Jin Soo. Tons of them. So many that he forgets that I wasn’t always there with him..” He said fiercely and i felt a smile tug on my face, despite the way my heart was aching.

“Okay. We can do that.” I nodded.

“Starting now.” He smiled, reaching out and unbuttoning my blouse. I sighed and grabbed his wrists quickly. Of course he wanted to start off with those kind of memories.

“I was only being polite when I said it didn’t hurt. it actually hurts. I can’t .. do it again.” i wrinkled my nose.

“You don’t have to do anything… I promise…It’s just that this lighting..” He pointed at the window. “ It seems like a crime not to get you naked here…”

And resisting park Jimin had never been my forte, so i didn’t even bother trying. 

[safty]

Tiny Rollins - Fic- All Ages (Cute, H/C)

What if Seth was made tiny with Wyatt magic? 

@wrassleslashlibrary ? (No fuckin’ just friends)

@sendendo drew these a long time ago and I finally wrote this. Will probably post on AO3 at some point- Need to figure out how to finish it.

Leaving the ring, it wasn't terribly uncommon to feel bleary and sort of dizzy. Seth had wrestled a very long, physical match and almost everyone was way more blown up than he was. The trainers were still attending to Shane when he was leaving, so he didn’t bother with wasting anyone’s time, just trying to put one foot ahead of the other.

"I watched the finish on the monitor. Very good." Cesaro noted in the car, taking the wheel.

"It felt okay." Seth rubbed his eyes. Even the prospect of showering at the hotel seemed like a horrible chore.

He hadn't remembered hearing Randy or Bray whispering to each other, couldn't have understood Bray's words when he pinned him to the mat. Seth didn't really remember knocking his head at any point, but it wouldn't have surprised him if he had.

"You ok?" Cesaro asked after they'd checked in. Seth was usually irritable and grumpy, but usually was griping.

"Just tired." Seth grunted, pulling his roller bag faster.

Nobody would have expected what had happened when the morning came. For convenience sake, they'd gotten a double room, past interested in trying to jerk off or fuck a stranger after a pay per view. Cesaro turned the next morning, looking to the adjacent bed as soon as he'd wondered why Seth wasn't snoring away.

The bed was empty, and he sat up, looking around.

There was no one in the bathroom, and the balcony door hadn't been cracked. Cesaro's heart began to pound when he realized all of Seth's things were still there- even his shoes. Something was up.

"Seth?" Cesaro tried, standing in the middle of the room, at a loss. He raised his voice, not really sure what it would do.

"SETH!"

He gulped, wondering if a text would be of any help. Unfortunately, Seth's phone was still plugged into the wall, buzzing dully on the desk by the bed.

Hell Cesaro thought, tearing back the shower curtains. Nothing. Where?

It wasn't until he pulled back the covers desperately that he let out a short yell, sure he'd seen a mouse. Something small clung hard to the under sheet, letting out a high squeal when Cesaro dropped it, recoiling away.

Seth?

Carefully, Cesaro pulled the covers back, trying to see the tiny thing. It hadn't been more than four inches long, but the way that it had been holding to the sheets was strange. So small, it had looked bug-like.

Holding to the sheets with tiny hands, was a person of some sort, but it had been shrunk down so small that it was not to be believed. Cesaro's eyes widened, terrified as he heard a horrible high pitched screaming. The little thing had a long mane of brown hair and was naked. Seth's clothes were laying flat against the bed, as though the man had evaporated.

"Seth?" Cesaro breathed, watching as the little figure ran, scrambling across the bed, desperately trying to climb the pillow. Instinctively, Cesaro leaned forward, trying to touch him so that he might stop running away. Seth had other ideas however, only pausing his screaming to pant, trying to regain his breath.

"It's fine!" Cesaro said, still disbelieving of what was happening. In all likelihood it was not fine, but he had no idea what to do, following Seth with his hand as though he was trying to get a butterfly to land on it. "No- don't, hey!"

Seth leapt, fingers grasping the back side of the bed frame, climbing onto it. In his haste, his little toes slipped and he began to fall off the bed, screaming harder than ever.

In an instant, Cesaro had caught him, heart almost stopping as he watched Seth tumble several inches, landing in Cesaro's palms in a heap. Bringing him up to his eyes, the resemblance was uncanny. In his hands, he was holding a micro-sized Seth Rollins, terrified and naked, Cesaro's heart was still pounding fast, watching him tremble and shake, his whole body flushed and red, his face pouring with tears.

"Can you hear me?" Cesaro hissed. Seth's whole frame shock and he curled up inside his palm, quivering in the fetal position. To Cesaro's ears, his voice was intelligible, reduced to squeaks. Therein lied the possibility that Seth was too small to hear Cesaro properly either.

"Okay, okay," Cesaro muttered, very carefully running his thumb across Seth's whole side, trying to be assuring. "You are okay."

Drawing his arm out, far from his body, he nodded his head wide so Seth could see as much of him as he could, his finger still just grazing his side, trying to perk him up. Seth sat, warm and vibrating in Cesaro's hand. It seemed to take him a moment, but soon, Seth grabbed onto Cesaro's finger, sure it was his friend.

It was a terribly unusual situation, shaving hours off of their schedule. Luckily, neither of them had engagements to see to that involved media, but Cesaro was just scared his friend could be hurt or irreversibly altered. Despite some well intentioned nuzzling with his pinky finger, Cesaro couldn't stop Seth from crying, letting out shrill, sad squeaks.

"It's okay, It's okay," Cesaro kept saying, mostly for his own benefit, as he had no idea what to do. He sat down at the desk, pulling out paper and a pen. If Seth couldn't make out what he was saying, he'd have to write it down. 

Seth continued to lean against Cesaro's left thumb, shaking, until he realized what was happening.

WHY ARE YOU SMALL Cesaro wrote in tiny letters across the stationary pad, sure Seth could make it out, unless his brain had been affected. On another sheet of paper, he began to write out the alphabet in larger letters, rather like a tiny hopscotch arrangement. Seth watched, intrigued.

With the pen, Cesaro tapped the paper, asking his question. Seth stared, and then, hopped off of his hand, standing on the table top, staring at the alphabet sheet carefully.

With a lot of hopping around, in which Seth was holding onto his barely visible, exposed dick, Cesaro transcribed his frantic scrambling-

D-O-N-T-K-N-O-W

Cesaro paused, wondering what to ask next, but Seth continued to pounce over the paper, his little feet smearing the ink

W-Y-A-T-T

He held his hands out, after tucking his cock between his legs for modesty's sake, he shrugged, wide. Cesaro's brow furrowed.

PAIN?

N-O

WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? HOW CAN I HELP

Seth tapped the paper angrily where Cesaro had written out DONT KNOW

TELL WORK?

Seth stood for a moment, looking to the letters written on the paper, considering. Cesaro leaned on his hand, watching his friend and heaving a sigh.

I-W-A-N-T-

Seth paused, shaking his head, he walked back, throwing his hands up.

S-H-O-U-L-D-

He stopped and sank down to his knees, facing away from Cesaro. He tucked his face to his knees and shook. Cesaro leaned in with his pinky finger, stroking his back.

Things were going to be difficult until they got a handle on things.

Cesaro insisted on being Seth’s advocate, and after explaining himself to the point of exhaustion regarding the circumstances he’d found Seth- Vince and the brass upstairs hurriedly began trying to figure out what to do. As soon as they’d dropped the name Wyatt, Cesaro and his tiny riding partner were ushered to the trainers.

“We’ll figure everything out, we’ll sort this,” Curano insisted. “We just need to take the utmost care of Seth in the meantime.”

This mostly meant that Seth didn’t get squashed. Word quickly got around to the rest of the roster and the trainers put together a makeshift basket from the cutlery containers in catering. Seth was rested in the base of the basket with some stuffing covered in cloth to keep him comfortable, and a ribbon was tied to the handle so everyone would know it was in fact Seth’s basket.

“We won’t be able to really take vitals unless we were at a lab.” The trainer frowned, setting her hands on the desk and looking at Seth under a magnifying glass. He’d been draped in a sheet of toilet paper in the meantime, holding the square around him like a rain poncho. “You’re sure he’s alright?”

Cesaro pulled out the crumpled sheet with the alphabet on it, scrawling YOU FEEL FINE?

Seth danced around the sheet, smoothing out the folds. Even with his bulky toilet paper garb trailing on the table, he seemed to spell Y-E-S.

Cesaro elected to cut an old sock apart in catering, so to give Seth a warmer means of covering himself. Bayley seemed to be the most sympathetic as well as amused regarding Seth’s condition, and decided to assist by shearing meat into tiny pieces for Seth to eat.

“This must be so hard! He doesn’t have any medications, does he?”

“No, nothing prescription.” Cesaro shook his head, watching Seth pull the sock over his head and tease the hole to stick his head through. He struggled for a moment, before nudging with his arms against the fabric for Cesaro to make dots with a felt marker, marking where he’d like sleeves.

“What if he has to go to the bathroom?” Bayley asked seriously, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t ever want to get turned small by dark magic!”

Adorned with a thick sock and well fed by tiny meat cuts and cracker crumbs, Seth pushed apart the stuffing in his basket to hide. Cesaro struggled with himself, wanting to tear off the covering to make sure his friend was ok, but after turning the basket slightly, he could see Seth’s head poking out, his hair wild and fanned around his face as he appeared to be sleeping.

“I need a moment, if you would please watch him,” Cesaro pleaded, “Nobody can move the basket.”

He had a match to plan with Sheamus and inevitably, there would be the problem of covering for Seth’s television character. Cesaro felt awful, sure that his friend was probably heartbroken about being unable to wrestle.

Raw went off feeling strangely forced. As soon as he was out of Gorilla, Cesaro was rushing back to Seth’s basket, breaking through a circle of people that were all sitting around the table, discussing Bray’s talent for mischief and the consequences of the act.

H-U-N-G-R-Y Seth spelled out, the moment he recognized Cesaro was close by. Roman, Kevin and Jericho watched with interest as Seth meandered around the paper.

S-L-E-E-P-E-A-T-M-O-R-E-S-M-A-L-L

They delighted in all cutting up protein bars and feeding Seth crumbs as Johnny Ace came in to find them, slightly disturbed by the scene.

“Bray’ll fly out next weekend and he’s gonna fix it,” He rasped, clapping Cesaro on the back. “We’re paying you extra, to watch him.”

“It’s no problem,” Cesaro said firmly. “We are flying to Charlotte? Going back through customs…”

“Keep a low profile,” Johnny said, “We’ll arrange private travel, but he shouldn’t be out.”

Caring for Seth wasn’t unlike watching a very high maintenance little mouse. After a rather depressing evening where Seth kept out of sight in the bottom of his basket. He began yelping, high pitched if he ever needed Cesaro’s attention.

GOING TO THE AIRPORT, YOU’RE GOING TO STAY IN MY POCKET THROUGH SECURITY AND THEN WHEN YOU’RE ON THE PLANE YOU CAN GET OUT. Cesaro wrote on a new piece of hotel stationary, setting it in front of Seth to read.

Seth sighed, toying with the roughly hewn edge of his sock-shirt.

Experimentally, Cesaro opened his hand to get Seth into it again, putting him up on his shoulder near his ear. He cocked his head, sure that he could probably get some better idea of Seth’s words if he spoke clearly.

“Your ear is dirty!” Seth squealed. Excitedly, Cesaro whipped his head around, grinning and almost sending Seth flying. Carefully, he turned his head again, ready to listen, it was difficult unless he was concentrating.

“This is very scary! My heart hasn’t stopped racing hard!”

IM SURE Cesaro wrote on the paper. GO ON

“I have to sleep and eat more, I don’t know why. I’m very tired. Nothing hurts, but I get dizzy if you move me too fast, so try not to do that.”

OK

“I’ve been peeing whenever you aren’t looking.”

Cesaro shook with laughter.

“If you draw a grid on the paper, I’ll show you the password to unlock my phone.”

Cesaro did, and then helped Seth go through his messages, explaining to his close friends and family that he wouldn’t be able to talk properly for a week, but would explain everything later. After just twenty minutes, Seth began to yawn and falter, leaning into Cesaro’s thumb. He took the hint, pulling Seth into his hand and slowly walking him over to the basket again, setting an opened granola bar inside as well.

Going through the airport was the most nerve wracking experience of his life and he couldn’t help nudging the front of his shirt pocket, terrified that, for some reason, Seth wouldn’t be there. However, tiny hands beat back on the fabric, poking his chest.

They’d gotten all the way back to the gate before Cesaro looked down and noticed Seth’s hands and head popping out the top of the pocket- rather unceremoniously, Cesaro popped him back down, hearing an angry squeal. Once they were on the plane- a private airline, he helped to pull him out, ready to scold him for peeking.

Seth was actually wet and flushed, leaving Cesaro’s hands damp, he frowned, raising his friend to his ear for some sort of explanation.

“I’m not- I can’t-” Seth panted, squeaking. “So hot-”

Guilty, Cesaro helped him lie down comfortably. Curled up in a light napkin, Seth accepted little droplets of water over his head to cool down. When he was finished, Cesaro bit off the end of the coffee stirrer, giving Seth a fairly large straw to drink down some water. 

“I want coffee.” Seth whined after he finished, holding onto Cesaro’s shirt collar like a saddle horn. “I hate this! I’m hot and then I’m freezing. I smell terrible!”

He set his tiny friend back down on the tray table and Seth just sagged, curling up into a ball and whimpering. For awhile, Cesaro just pet him with his pinky, unsure about what to do. There was nothing he could do to really help- just make Seth more comfortable. The airline workers had been notified about the situation they were in, and so didn’t do much more than offer sideways glances at the thumb-sized man.

Grabbing a stack of cups from the catering cart, Cesaro rose and grabbed some of his toiletries from his carryon. Even when Seth was normal sized, Cesaro’s role was usually keeping him happy on the road. This was a lot more involved, but it had the same spirit.

He nudged his hand out for Seth to climb into. Fussy and upset, Seth didn’t budge, head to his knees, determined. Cesaro chuckled, very carefully tipping his friend into his fingers and marching off to the bathroom.

Pouring warm water into a cup and adding a speck of soap, Cesaro made a functional little bath. Seth watched, unsure exactly what was happening until the water began to bubble up. Eagerly, he climbed in, dunking his head and wading around like a frog caught in a jar. Pulling a thread out of his shirt, Cesaro cut a tiny string so Seth could pull his hair back.

Freshly cleaned and dried, with a tiny pour of coffee into a condiment server and a handful of muffin crumbs, Seth seemed much less upset.

WE WILL FIGURE IT OUT DONT WORRY Cesaro wrote while Seth sat on his hand, watching I DONT MIND AND I WANT TO HELP

Much to his surprise, Seth began to cry again. But instead of curling up into a ball, he clutched Cesaro’s thumb, hugging it. Cesaro smiled, stroking his friend’s small head lovingly. Being so small surely took an emotional toll, but they only had a few more days to figure it out. 

[vintage-story-time]

Family Games by Ray Todd

Chapter 9

"Give me a shower first," Lorena said. "I want to be naked with you in a shower."

"Anything you say, girl." He put down the suitcase they'd bought first thing.

"The clerk didn't even blink when I registered as Mr. J. J. Oliver and

daughter."

"That's because you asked for twin beds," she giggled. "Well have to mess up the

other one, too."

Laughing with her, her father shucked out of his shirt and she followed suit by

peeling off her own. Her young, hard breasts sprang free and her fingers turned

anxious at her cutoff tops. She watched her daddy climb from his pants, gone a

little bit awkward in quick embarrassment that she also felt.

She told herself not to be icky, just because it was daytime and they were alone

in a motel room. The only time she had been in a motel before, she had to share

a room with Glynn, while their parents slept next door. And did other things,

she amended; like fucking.

Her jeans slid down her legs and she chucked her panties after them. Now she was

stripped, and posed proudly for her father's eyes as they roamed over her body.

She was glad her tits were high and that she had plenty of honeyblonde pubic

hair. It was almost the exact shade as his own, she saw, and was once again

amazed and enthralled by the size of his swelling cock.

She skipped into the bathroom, grabbing up and unwrapping a bar of motel soap.

When she had the water just right, warm and soothing, she stepped into the

enclosure and waited for him. He came slowly, still feeling peculiar about the

situation, she saw. He was so big, he filled the stall, but she adored the

contact her small body made with his, and especially liked the wet nudging of

his distended prick.

Handing him the soap, she waited breathlessly until he began to slide his hands

over her trembling body. It felt marvelous, all slippery and foaming, and she

wiggled when he washed her tits. Her nipples got so hard they ached, and she

took one wrist to move her daddy's hand on down to her belly.

He went between her thighs, manipulating her bubbly pussy, fondling the soft

mound with obvious delight. Taking the soap from him, she massaged it over his

hairy chest, down to his furry crotch, and played games with his stiff shaft,

with his downhanging balls.

"C-careful," he warned. "We'd better rinse off now, baby."

She stood quietly while he toweled her, his fingers moving lovingly over her

sensitized skin, then she did the same for him, her hands lingering between his

legs, staring directly up into his eyes.

"Damn!" he said. "You're a perfect little bitch. I can read F-U-C-K written

plainly in your eyes."

She laughed. "Now you're loosening up, daddy. And I want to be your bitch, be

perfect for you. Come on -- let's go try out that bed."

Playfully, they tumbled together on the bed, laughing and tickling each other,

grabbing and tenderly mauling. For a few seconds, they were both children, happy

and carefree. But when he rolled on top of her, they both stopped playing, and

after a bright moment of knowing silence, his mouth descended upon hers.

Holding him frantically close, Lorena drew her lips across his, forced her

tongue between them, then retreated before the rapid, hungry onslaught of his

tongue. Her father shoved his long, thick tongue down her throat, and his big

body moved upon hers, his hard cock raking across her heaving tummy.

When he broke the long kiss, she panted up at him: "Fuck me this way, on top. I

want to get every inch of that gorgeous prick inside me, all the way to the

balls."

Lifting her knees and spreading her legs, she hiked her pelvis up for him,

making it easy for the searching head of his mammoth cock to find her humid

slot. The spongy, but hard core, head probed into her vulva, and her cunt lips

stretched to allow it inside them. Carefully, her father pushed the thick, heavy

shaft into her writhing body, feeding the pulsing glans inside, forcing her lips

to go elastic and make room.

"It's going in!" she cried. "The end of your prick is spreading my pussy and

going in -- oh! Daddy, daddy -- "

It was alive, she thought; her father's massive cock was alive, a hot, strong

rod that was sliding in and in, until she thought it would never stop. She was

packed with the luscious meat, filled to capacity with matchless peter, and her

inflamed clit thrummed with joy.

Bracing his knees against the mattress, her daddy rolled her back upon her

shoulders. "You can take it better this way," he panted. "You're wide open to me

now. But what a tight little pussy you have, baby. What a hot, narrow little

snatch; it's grabbing my prick as if it had fingers, squeezing down on me."

"F-fuck me," she gasped. "Pour the prick to me, my sweet daddy! Screw your

daughter -- "

He stroked her, backing out his cock until her cunt lips fought to keep a grip

on the flanged head, then thrusting his pole so deep that she thought it was

going to tear up into her belly. But she could take it all, and moaned

deliriously when his balls swung into the uplifted crack of her ass.

Lorena couldn't get her legs around him, so she worked her heels down and dug

them into the hollows behind his knees, taking a strong hold there so she could

pound her crotch up at him and meet his every surging, churning stroke. Her

father seesawed his huge cock into her stretched pussy, hitting bottom with

every grinding lurch and making her jerk.

She came suddenly, without warning, because there was no way she could keep him

from massaging her clitoris. Great, rolling waves of her climax broke in her

vagina, and she shook her ass violently in response, gritting her teeth and

moaning through them.

"Hold on, baby," he said. "I'm not far behind you -- so tight and boiling in

your little pussy -- fucking my sweet daughter, fucking my beautiful kid -- here

it comes!"

His discharge thundered hissing into her vagina, sending a deluge of wonderful

semen splashing inside her. Her womb tightened, and her asshole snapped shut as

the beautiful, greasy stuff rinsed her cunt walls. Her daddy was pumping her

full of his come, releasing the physical proof of his love for her, flooding her

with his man juice. Lorena worshipped him for it, and sank into a blissful state

of drowsiness.

She was hardly conscious of his gently taking his weight from her supine body,

but she murmured a protest when her father backed his shaft out of her pussy.

"Please -- don't take it away. I love it so."

He kissed her tits, one at a time, and his hand was soft upon the seeping

tenderness of her mound. "I worry that I'm too much for you, baby."

"Never," she whispered. "Never too much of fucking you, dad."

He lay beside her and she turned to put her face against his hairy chest.

Through her numbed mind swam the plan, the need to keep this wild family

together. Glynn was swinging with mom now, catching up for lost time, and she

somehow had to bring her daddy to the idea that they should all share each

other's love, as well as each other's bodies.

Jean, she thought; Jean Marks, the torrid little redhead who practically lived

to screw. Would her father be interested in her? He should be; she was

attractive enough. It was strange that she didn't feel a twinge of jealousy

then, but her main idea was to carry through the plan -- and make her daddy

happy as she could. It was so much fun, in a triangle.

It was silly to be jealous of someone she loved, she decided; to love was to

give, and if she could give him more happiness and more excitement by sharing

his body with another girl, so be it. She would be happy for the chance, and

feel within herself the same stimulating thrills she had known when her brother

was fucking both her and Jean Marks.

Her father said softly, "It's really hard to believe, baby. I never thought I'd

be the kind of guy who'd actually lay his own daughter. But I've never been so

stirred up by any woman. It's like I'm a teenager again, always horny and ready

to screw."

"That's good," she said, and made up her mind to take the plunge. "Dad- -how

would you feel about screwing someone else? I mean, with me around and sharing."

He stroked her back, his big hand warm and comforting. "I never thought about

it. You mean, you and me and another woman? Like an orgy?"

Lorena kissed his throat and cuddled his softened prick with a worshipful hand.

"A mini-orgy, you might say. I can promise you that it will be farout kicks."

He was silent for awhile, then said, "I fantasize like everyone else, I suppose.

Like I did about you, dreaming that someday, somehow, I might be blessed with

the opportunity of getting into your pants. Now that I have, I guess anything

else can come true."

She came up on one elbow so that she could look down into his beloved face, seem

again how strong and handsome it was, how romantically Nordic. "It can, dad;

believe me, it can."

He looked up at her. "Did you have anything special in mind?"

"My best friend, Jean Marks."

"The saucy little redhead, the one who babysat your brother?"

She smiled. "I see you noticed her."

"What man could help noticing? She's a little doll, but too sexy for kids to

play with. You mean she'd get into an orgy with you and me, just like that?"

Lorena said, "She's a real swinger. I think she lives for nothing but sex, which

isn't a bad idea, at that. All I have to do is ask her and she'll freak out at

the idea."

"Well," he murmured, "that's something else. I guess I'm not ready for the

discard yet, anyhow. But we'll have to be very careful about it -- and about

just you and me, too. Your mother would flip out, if she even suspected, and in

the present circumstances, she wouldn't be beyond calling the cops. That way,

she could no doubt get the whole package in the settlement -- the house, cars,

the business, everything."

Lorena's smile faded and she frowned. "Oh, mom isn't that bad. I wish you guys

-- "

Her father closed his eyes. "Right now, your mother would not only knife me, but

she'd stand there and twist the blade. Let's not talk about her, kid. I'm too

damned happy to chance having that happiness destroyed."

"Okay, dad. If that's the way it has to be. We'll talk about something else."

"Like you," he said. "You weren't a virgin, and I'm glad of that, the way I'm

hung. Have you been laying some kid I know?"

She shook her head. "I lost my cherry to Don, and you never met him. It was kind

of messy at first, since he didn't really know what he was doing, either. But

later on, it got to be the fun I thought it should be. Then I laid Jerry, and

he'd been around some. We balled for several months, but he got too serious

about me. Then, well, there was somebody else, but I won't tell you his name. He

really turned me on, and I learned how to go down from him."

Her father squirmed a little. "This is fantastic, lying here with my beautiful,

naked and freshly fucked daughter in my arms, talking about how many guys she's

screwed, and about you giving a blow job. According to all the mores of this

country, I should be outraged, but I'm not. I'm turned on, and beginning to see

what you mean about orgies. With my eyes closed, smelling your freshness so

near, I think I might enjoy seeing you take a dick. I might get a kick out of

watching my passionate little girl twist and hump on another man's driving

prick."

"Seeing it is great, dad, but being a part of it all is even better. I want to

watch you shove this glorious meat into Jean's bright little pussy, and I just

know she'll go out of her head, loving it. She won't be able to help herself. I

don't see how mom can pass it up, after having you screw her so many times. Oh

-- I'm sorry; that just slipped out."

"You're curious about her, aren't you? Okay, I'll say that your mother is one

hell of a lay, but there were times I felt she wasn't letting herself go all the

way, that she was holding back."

Lorena thought about that, about hang-ups the older generation might have. But

her mom looked so sensual, and moved as if she was always on her way to a bed,

and not to sleep. Could she be withdrawing, going into kind of a sexual shell

because of the impending split-up? If so, then Glynn had run into trouble. But

there had been no sign of that this morning at home. In fact, both her brother

and her mom had seemed very anxious to have the house to themselves.

"Maybe she needs something different," Lorena suggested. "Did she ever eat you,

the way I did?" That picture made new life stir within her vagina, the image of

her mother with those soft, red lips spread over the massive head of her

father's cock.

He sighed. "She kissed it a few times, in the beginning, but I never felt quite

right about it, with her. There had been a whore or two who gave me a trip

around the world, as we called it then, but with your mother -- "

"Then you never ate her, either?"

"Only twice," he answered. "And both times, she turned away from me afterward,

as if she had merely put up with a deviation that was strictly mine, and not

hers."

Lorena persisted. "There are other things, you know, other ways. Of course, I

haven't tried them all yet, but I mean to. And Jean says they're really groovy.

I think if you and mom could get your sex lives straightened out, then

everything else would go back to where it used to be, and we would all be

happy."

He took his arm from around her and turned his head. She said quickly, "Okay; I

won't push it any more. Not that way, anyhow. But it does turn me on, thinking

and talking of you two together; I wish I had had the nerve to sneak into your

bedroom and hide in the closet, so I could have seen you slip your wonderful big

prick into mom's pussy. You said she was a hell of a lay, and I'll bet she wraps

those long legs around you, doesn't she?"

"She does," he said. "She likes it on top, on the side, dog fashion, any way

except maybe oral. Some lucky guy will get a fine piece of ass after the

divorce, when she starts looking around for another man. It's a wonder she isn't

out screwing around now, as hot as she is. But she's like me in that respect, I

imagine; since we've been at each other's throats, we haven't been interested in

fucking anyone else. For me, that's until now, that is. Now, my sweet and lusty

daughter, tell me if you've ever had a boy go down on that enticing little

cunt?"

Lorena said, "No; not yet."

"Do you want it? I'd like to be the first man to eat you, baby."

"Of course, I want it," she said, and thought that her father would be getting

himself a cherry of sorts from her. She also though she had made a lot of

progress, learning much about the problems between her parents. If Glynn was

doing his job as well, the plan was coming closer to completion. First she had

to bring in Jean Marks, and -- in a flash of inspiration -- she thought of

setting up a scene where her daddy would accidentally be exposed to the sight of

his son fucking his wife. "Here I am, daddy," she said. "Eat me."