#i mean this is the first thursday i’m over a month where we didn’t see each other

[yellowsubiesdance]

TWO SNAPS

[wandaslittlebird]

You Look So Good (On Your Knees)

Voyeur!Mommy!Wanda x Daddy!Natasha x Reader

What was supposed to be just a weekly movie night quickly turns into something else when you catch a glimpse of something you weren’t supposed to see.

CW: Voyeurism, threesome, strap-on, flogging, orgasm denial (? A tiny bit?), caught in the act (once again a tiny bit), punishment, dacryphilia, degradation, hair pulling, choking (not really), reader calls WandaNat mommy/daddy

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is for @wandamaximoffsbadgirl. Thank you for all your help! I hope this was worth clawing your way under the door. Writing this (particularly the very end) has put me in a total WandaNat x Reader tailspin so expect some fluffy domestic stuff in the coming weeks.

A/N: I kinda sorta definitely double dipped for this fic, and it’s a spin of a different fic I did for a different fandom. But new fandom new crowd, and I figure almost none of you have read my non-marvel work. So the self-plagiarism is strong, but will probably go unnoticed anyway.

“Wanda? Natasha?” You called into the seemingly empty house.

It was Thursday night, your designated movie night with the couple: your long term friends and fuck buddies. They’d given you a key months ago. So, when you knocked and no one answered you just let yourself in.

You set down your bag in the living room, looking for them around the house. Their cars were both in the driveway. They had to be home. After investigating the first floor, you went upstairs. Maybe they were already in the bedroom waiting for you. That is where you always had your movie nights, after all.

You cracked the door open to find them both on the bed, Natasha underneath Wanda in an intense kiss. Natasha was grinding up against Wanda’s thigh, whining and breathless. You could tell by the way her hips were starting to falter, she was close. They must’ve been at this for a while. You didn’t want to interrupt.

You took a step back, trying to quietly shut the door. Maybe you could just wait downstairs until they finished. But before you could click the door fully shut, you heard Wanda’s commanding voice. “Not so fast, little girl.”

You sighed. You’d been caught. You opened the door back up, revealing Wanda pulling herself away from her wife. She looked at you with a cold glare, curling her fingers, instructing you to come to her.

She had you stand between her legs at the foot of the bed. “Did you not think to knock when coming into mommy and daddy’s room?”

“I-I knocked outside! I couldn’t find you! I was just looking for-“ you desperately tried to explain.

Wanda cut you off with a smirk. “Well, you found us.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh but honey, you did interrupt,” Wanda explained condescendingly. “You interrupted and now daddy doesn’t get to cum.”

“W-what? No but she was so close! Please let her cum mommy,” you pleaded on Natasha’s behalf. You genuinely felt terrible. You knew what that kind of denial felt like and you would never wish it on anyone, especially not your daddy.

Natasha smiled when you jumped to her defense, joining you and Wanda at the end of the bed. She beckoned you over to her, quickly pulling you to sit on her lap. She wrapped her arms around your waist, whispering into your ear. “It’s okay, baby. You're gonna make daddy cum so good later, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, shivering against her. God, you had hoped movie night would start like this.

“But for right now,” Wanda started. “We’ve got to teach somebody a lesson about knocking, don’t we? It’s your fault daddy didn’t get to cum, so daddy should be allowed to punish you, shouldn’t she?”

You looked to Natasha, who just raised her eyebrows expectantly, and then you nodded. “Yes mommy.”

“That’s our good girl,” Wanda purred, running her hand down the side of your face and lightly pinching your cheek. “Now, daddy’s gonna get you all set up on the bench while mommy goes to get some toys, okay?”

They both stood almost synchronously. Wanda briefly disappeared into the next room while Natasha hoisted you up in her arms, laying you face down on the leather bench next to the bed. She propped the back part up so it turned into more of a seat.

Wanda came from the closet with a long black leather flogger, her implement of choice for this particular scene. She handed it to Natasha, who smiled and gave her a kiss. Wanda sat down next to you, propped up over a seat you were now straddling.

She wiped the hair from your face. “Ready?”

You nodded into the soft, plush leather of the seat. You could already feel yourself easily slipping into that fuzzy space, where all the thoughts, worries, and responsibilities became irrelevant.

Wanda smiled, noticing the way your eyes glazed over. “I need to hear you say it, angel.”

“Yes, mommy,” you said as clearly as you could muster.

Wanda ran the back of her hand down your cheek. You shivered. She was the only lesbian you’d ever meet who always wore acrylics. The sharp point of her stiletto nails on your face sent tingles down your spine. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the sensation.

You felt the leather tassels of the flogger brush lightly against your back. You whimpered, squirming in your seat.

“You don’t have to count, honey,” Wanda soothed. “Just let go. Mommy and daddy are gonna take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything at all.”

With that you felt the first sharp sting of leather snap against your back. You let out a noise between a whimper and moan. Natasha started slow, each hit a distinct sensation on your back, but as she started to pick up the pace, the strikes became less distinct.

In less than five minutes, she’d made a mess of you. You whined and squirmed against the leather seat.

“Aww sweetheart,” Wanda cooed. “Do you need mommy to hold you still while daddy whips you?” Before you could answer, the blows stopped.

“Nooo…” you whined. “Daddy keep going. Please I promise I’ll sit still. Please don’t stop.”

Despite your protest, you felt two strong hands pick you from your seat. “I’m not done, princess,” you heard Natasha’s soft voice say. “But you’ve gotta stop squirming or I’m accidentally going to hit you in the kidneys.”

You were lowered into Wanda’s lap, where your legs were forced wider apart in order to straddle her. It made it significantly harder to move. She locked her hand around your thigh to keep you in place. Her other hand gently massaged your hair. “That’s it honey. Mommy will make sure you stay nice and still.”

Her long nails against your scalp were almost enough to make the thoughts fly from your head. “But… But you’ll get hit.”

Wanda chuckled and kissed your temple. “Daddy has excellent aim, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about anything at all.”

The leather cracked against your back again. It hurt more now that your back was already raw. If not for Wanda’s hand pinning you in place, you might’ve jumped off her lap entirely. You whined wrapping your arms around Wanda.

She cradled your head over her shoulder, gently shushing your cries as she watched Natasha bring the leather down against your back over and over again.

“Mommy…” you whined into her ear. You were trying to ride her thighs like you had ridden the leather seat, but the awkward position prevented you from getting any friction whatsoever. It wasn’t even until Wanda felt drops of warmth on her thighs that she realized why you were whining.

“Aww,” she hummed, “you’re making a bit of a mess on mommy’s lap, baby.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” you mumbled into her shoulder. “I just… it feels so good.”

“All this just from a flogging, sweetheart?” She teased. She would’ve loved to tease you further, but she was genuinely afraid you’d accidentally hurt yourself if she stopped holding you in place, much less if she had her hand between your legs.

You blushed, burying your face into her neck. “Mommy…” you whined when the leather stung your back once again. “Mommy please…”

Wanda’s heart melted at your words. The combination of your pathetic voice begging her for relief and your frail body in her arms made her want to ruin you in a different way. You were just so vulnerable. It would be such a waste to not take advantage of you in this state. “Alright,” She cooed. “I think she’s learned her lesson, hasn’t she Tasha?”

Natasha chuckled, but she stopped her flogging. “Do you think she’s learned her lesson, or have you just gone soft for a ‘mommy please’?”

Wanda wrapped her arm around your back, long nails still masterfully massaging your scalp. She rocked you back and forth in her lap. “Oh come on Tasha, look at her: getting all pathetic and leaky in her mommy’s lap. Doesn’t it just make you wanna…”

“Throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress until the only things in her little head are mommy and daddy?” Natasha finished.

“Exactly,” Wanda smiled mischievously. It was such a marvelous thing that she married someone who was always on the same wavelength as she was.

You were promptly picked up out of Wanda’s lap from behind. You whined, reaching out for Wanda.

“Now now,” Natasha chided. “None of that. Mommy’s not going anywhere. She’s gonna be here with you the whole time.”

She guided you to kneel on the bed, nudging your legs apart. Almost instinctively, your hands were crossed at the wrist behind your back.

Wanda hadn’t exactly planned on binding your wrist, but when you sat so perfectly, so expectantly, she could hardly resist.

“Natasha, would you like to bind this little darling's hands for us?” She instructed.

Natasha smiled, eagerly grabbing a length of pink ribbon and getting to work on tying your wrists together. She so loved tying you up. While a simple figure 8 around the wrists would’ve done the trick, she decided instead on a more complex design that would bind you up to the elbow. She knew she had time. Wanda would require a thorough inspection before she’d let Nat fuck you.

Wanda ran a singular finger through your slit. Her cold rings and sharp nail bumped over your clit as she dragged her hand upward. The sensation caused you to jump and whimper. Wanda just chuckled, bringing her finger lightly up your body until it was at your lips. You took her finger obediently between your lips.

“Do you think your ready for daddy to fuck you, baby?” she asked. “Does this needy pussy want daddy’s cock?”

You nodded, trying not to wince as her rings made their way onto your tongue, filling your mouth with a metallic taste.

“Which of daddy’s toys do you want, huh?” She asked, intentionally pushing down on your tongue so you couldn’t talk. “I’ll think I’ll have daddy use the purple strap. The one with the- what did you call them- the ‘mean ridges’? The ones that scrap against your special spot?”

You whined around her finger, giving her the most endearing puppy dog eyes you could possibly muster.

“Oh sweetheart,” she cooed, “do you not like that one? Maybe you’d prefer it if daddy tied you to the chair and you watched her fuck mommy instead, hmm? Maybe you’d just prefer not to have any orgasms at all?”

You shook your head frantically. You wanted to protest, to promise you’d be good and take that dreaded purple strap, but you couldn’t speak.

She chuckled. “That’s what I thought, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for mommy and daddy, aren’t you?”

You nodded. She pulled her finger from your mouth and tilted your head up to kiss you gently.

“That’s our sweet girl,” she praised. “Aw it looks like daddy’s finished tying you up all pretty. Can you say thank you to daddy?”

You craned your neck to the side, trying to see her behind you. “Thank you, daddy, for tying me up all pretty.”

Natasha laughed, pulling you back towards her by the ribbon. She kissed you and smiled. “You’re welcome, baby. Can you show mommy your pretty ribbon?”

You attempted to turn around to show Wanda the way your hands and arms were intricately bound behind your back, but Natasha pushed you forward into the mattress. You yelped, surprised by the sudden move.

“A present, wrapped special for you, my love,” Natasha said to Wanda, leaning over you to kiss her wife.

“You always know just what to get me,” Wanda breathed against her lips. “Now go get ready, love. I wanna watch you make our sweet little girl cry.”

Natasha climbed off the bed behind you, disappearing into the next room.

Wanda’s nails were against your sore back, rubbing soothing as you lay in wait. You attempted to sit up, but Wanda clicked her tongue. “No, baby,” she chided. “Stay just like this.”

You felt the bed dip as Natasha climbed back on behind you. Her calloused hands lifted your hips so you were kneeling tall. The angle forced your face even further into the mattress. You couldn’t put your hands out to hold yourself up with them tied up behind your back.

Natasha ran the tip of the strap up and down your slit, pulling a muffled moan from your lips. She lined the toy up with your entrance, gently easing it inside. She threw her head back and moaned as she felt each of the ‘mean ridges’ push into you, then she pushed your hips forward and pulled them back, silently commanding you to fuck yourself as you adjusted to her girth.

The toy was, admittedly, slightly too big for you to manage without any discomfort. The ridges cruelly raked against your inner walls, causing you to wince with each movement. But with time, you were able to adjust to feel only a slight, delicious stretch.

After you’d grown to a moderate pace, Natasha took over, grabbing your thighs and pulling them back to meet her own. You let your body go limp, allowing Natasha to control your movements completely. You were putty in her hands.

“Fuck, Wands you should see her from here,” Natasha groaned, looking down and watching the large toy disappear inside of you over and over again. “Fuck it’s like she swallowing me whole. Needy little cunt. Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock can you?”

You tried to bury your face into the sheets to muffle the noises she tore from you, but you were unsuccessful. Without your hands or your arms, your range of motion was severely limited.

Wanda’s eyes went wide and her face cracked into a smile when she heard the first hiccup of a cry. She leaned forward. “Tasha, hold her up. I want to see her face.”

Natasha reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling your head up so you were face to face with Wanda. She could see the build up of tears in the corners of your eyes and the way your bottom lip quivered, threatening to give way to a sob.

“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Are you going to cry for mommy? It’s okay angel, you can cry. Daddy’s not gonna stop fucking you even if you are going to be a sobbing little mess.”

Natasha fucked you harder, nearly pulling all the way out before she slammed back into you again. She kept your head up, forcing you to look at Wanda even as your eyes rolled back and your vision went blurry with tears. Natasha wrapped her hand around your throat, grabbing you just under your chin. She braced her forearm against your chest, pinning you upright against her.

The position only accentuated the effect of the ridges, causing them to bump more aggressively against the spongy spot inside of you. “Aww look at how pathetic you look, crying your little eyes out while daddy fills you with her cock.” Wanda teased.

You felt Natasha’s breath hot against your ear. “Tell mommy how pathetic you are.”

You offered little more than a whine in response. Your bottom lip continued to tremble as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Aww, sweet girl, there’s no need to be embarrassed,” Wanda assured. “It’s just me and daddy.”

You weren’t truly embarrassed, if you were being honest. You honestly felt like a masterpiece: a carefully constructed vision that Wanda and Natasha had crafted you into. But you played coy nonetheless. You had more fun when Wanda told you how pathetic you looked anyway.

“Poor thing,” Wanda taunted, “never learned how to take a proper fucking without crying.” Her eyes never left yours. Everything about watching her wife handle your helpless body drove her wild.

“I’m sorry mommy… I can’t help it… daddy’s cock feels so good inside of me,” you panted.

Natasha felt a burst of heat in her own core. Between yours and Wanda’s words she could feel herself creeping towards the edge. She just needed a bit of a different angle. She released her hold on you, causing you to fall helplessly back into the mattress. Wanda gently turned your head, preventing you from muffling yourself in the sheets.

You cursed. The combination of Wanda’s gentle hands and the new angle that hit all your most sensitive spots had you so close to an orgasm. All it would take was just a little more pressure on your clit. Unfortunately, with your hands bound behind your back, you were completely at their mercy.

“Please…” you begged mindlessly. “Please don’t stop. Fuck daddy. Please never stop.” You felt so certain that if Natasha pulled out of you right now, you’d simply die on the spot.

“You want to cum on daddy’s cock so badly don’t you?” Wanda teased. “But you can’t touch yourself. Poor baby.”

Natasha changed her pace. She could feel her own orgasm building as she felt the pull of the toy’s ridges pumping in and out of you. “Beg for mommy to let you cum, baby. I wanna hear you begging like the little slut you are.”

“Fuck!” you sobbed. The words poured out of your mouth nearly as fast as the tears poured from your eyes. “Please I’m all yours. I’m mommy and daddy’s little slut. Please, you can use me whenever you want. I’m just a little toy for mommy and daddy. Please I just need daddy’s cock inside me forever. Mommy please let me cum.”

“That’s a good girl,” Wanda praised, “begging mommy and daddy to use you like a little toy. That’s all you are right? A toy for mommy and daddy’s pleasure?”

“Yes!” you chanted. “Yes! I’m mommy and daddy’s toy. Please let me cum. Please mommy.”

“I wanna see you cum on daddy’s cock. Can you be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock for mommy?” She asked.

Natasha curled her arm around your waist, pinching your clit and milking it between her fingers. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart.

Natasha continued to fuck you as you came, clenching around the strap. The pulsing put the perfect amount of pressure on her own clit, sending her into an orgasm not long after you.

She steadied herself on your hips, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure. She pulled the ribbon, and Wanda watched in fascination as the entire thing unraveled itself. They both chuckled as your arms bonelessly flopped down beside you.

Natasha hooked her arm around your waist to prevent you from simply collapsing when she pulled out. She laid you gently on your side before climbing off the bed. She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you with Wanda.

You whined as the toy left, suddenly feeling terribly empty. Wanda sat down on the bed next to you, chuckling again as she bent over to kiss your temple. “I know, love. It’s just devastating that daddy can’t stay inside you forever, isn’t it?”

You nodded, whining again as you felt her wipe away the remnants of your orgasm.

“You did so well for us, love,” she praised, adjusting your position on the bed so you rested against the pillows. She pulled up some blankets, smiling as you wiggled in blissful content. “Comfy, honey?”

You nodded, reaching your arms out for her.

She crawled into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you. She kissed your forehead, earning herself a dopey, blissed out smile from you. She kissed your cheek, licking up what was left of a few salty tears. She moaned at the taste.

Natasha came out of the bathroom, freshened up in nothing but a pair or boxers. She joined you and Wanda in bed, crawling in next to you. She kissed the top of your head. “Are you girls ready for movie night?”

You nodded. “I already promised mommy she gets my movie night cuddles this time, though.”

“What the hell?” Natasha said jokingly, pulling you forcibly into her lap and berating you with kisses. “Daddy fucks you so hard you can’t think straight and mommy still get the movie night cuddles?”

You giggled, squirming out of her kiss attack. “You always fall asleep anyway!”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Because I just fucked you so hard you couldn’t think straight. You wear me out, little girl.”

“Fine, daddy cuddles until you fall asleep, and then mommy cuddles,” you compromise.

“That sounds perfect, princess,” Natasha smiled, kissing you briefly.

You looked to Wanda for her approval. She smiled. “Fine. You can cuddle with daddy for the 20 minutes she’s awake, and then you’re all mine for the rest of the night.”

You wrapped your arms around both of them, pulling them into a tight hug. “Deal.”

[jjkilll]

-—✫UNTIL THE END OF TIME | JJK✫—-

warning: this is completely fictional. this story details personal injuries infilicted upon a main charater. reader discretion is advised. please read all warnings before proceeding. 18+

— pairing | ex-fiancé/idol jungkook x y/n

— summary | six months after you two broke up, you realized life's too short to not hold each other until the end of time.

—  warning | personal injury (car accident), mentions of blood and surgery, a coma brought on by personal injury, mentions and the planning of marriage, pwp (big time), smut, reader giving jk a handjob, cum eating(?), spit(?), ass slapping (jk can't control himself)

— word count | 3.9K

— song | until the end of time - justin timberlake (this is gonna ruin the tour)

— a/n: flashback in bold, enjoy!!

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

your phone rings waking you quickly. you at up answering your phone. “i’m sorry to wake you, is this y/n l/n?” a man asks through the phone. “yes, is there something wrong?” you ask eyes barely open.

“unfortunately, yes. i’m dr. hill, your fiancée has been in an accident. will you come down and provide some extra information for me?” he asks sincerely.

“what?! is he okay? is he awake?” you sit up. “um, i think it’s best if i share this news in person.” your heart drops.

you stand quickly throwing on some clothes. “i’m coming. i’m on the way.”

you and jungkook had been broken up for six months. you broke off your engagement. he really didn’t want you to go.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you asked him to go with you to ask your friend to be in your wedding. you planned a lunch and jungkook never showed. you watched the clock tick and the time pass and nothing but radio silence. you tuck the handwritten letters back into your bag.

you got home and jungkook was passed out on the couch. you woke him, “hey go get in bed.” he stands barely awake, and walks into the bedroom flopping down onto your bed.

you walk past him into the bathroom. “where were you?” he mumbles. “lunch with my friends.” you say simply, taking the pins out of your hair.

“until 7 pm on a thursday? what for?” he asks. you sigh continuing to take your hair down from its high ponytail style. you don’t say anything until he groans lifting himself on the bed walking over to the bathroom door and standing in the frame. “what's wrong?” he asks you cluelessly which angers you. “nothing.” you say very monotone.

“you’re mad. why are you mad?” you don’t say anything and continue looking at yourself in the mirror. “i’m not.” you say simply. “ you aren’t even looking at me.” he grabs at your waist and you pull away. “stop.” you say moving away. “can you just tell me what’s wrong? i’m too tired for this shit.” he spits and that’s your final straw. you we so upset with him, that you didn't say anything at first trying to make sure you didn't say anything you didn't mean.

“today was the day we were supposed to ask my friends to be in the wedding and you didn’t even show. i sat there like a dumbass checking the clock hoping you’d show up. you didn’t. you didn’t even call. so yea, it’s very fucking clear that you’re too tired for this shit.” you motion back and forth between the two of you.

“you know damn well that’s not what i meant. i’m sorry babe, things just got so hectic today,” he explains.

“then a text would have eased my mind,” you spoke.

“i was busy, baby. what do you want me to say? you know what i do prepping for a comeback isn't easy.”

“whatever jungkook.” you dismiss him not trying to get more upset.

“did they all say yes?” he asked sitting on the edge of the tub. “i didn’t give them the letters.” you say simply. “why not?” he asks. “because i need more time.” he raises his brow. “for?” he presses.

“to think. see if this is something i even need to do.” you spit.

“what does that mean?” he asks standing up beside you. “jungkook, you haven’t put your input in. you haven’t seen the venue. you don’t care about the colors and you can’t even show up to a fucking lunch. yes, i know how hard it is to prep for a comeback, but planning a wedding by yourself is bullshit. we haven’t had sex in four weeks. you don’t want this relationship as bad as i do.” you explained.

“i want you more than anything.” he says. “then you’d make time! you'd act like it! i don’t ask for weekly dinners, and i don’t complain when you get home at 3 am and leave at 6 am. but, this is different. this is our marriage. i can’t help but think this is what our marriage will be. i’ll just keep waiting on you to find a balance for this shit, the whole world gets everything you got and i just get your last name. i sit at home and watch you create a life without me. that’s why i need to think jungkook.” you finally turn and look at him.

your eyes brimming with tears. “baby, i’ll figure it out i promise. it won’t be like this forever.” you shake your head as your tears fall. “you don’t know that. you know know your job is ever changing. i love you, i do, and i know how much your job means to you. i would never ask you to choose me over your job, but i make time for you even in my schedule. i’m a personal assistant for an idol. I’m gone just as much as you are.” you explain tears choking you up. he pulls you close and you sob in his arms. “what's wrong with me? why can't you make time for me?”

you take a deep breath, “i can’t do this anymore.” you realize he’s crying too. “don’t say that. please don’t say that.” he begs. “i’m sorry jungkook.” you back away from him. you hate how quick he is to let you go. you twist the beautiful ring jungkook gave you months ago, off your finger. you place the ring in his palm. “please,” he looks down at you. “i’m sorry.” you say walking back into your bedroom. you walk into your closet grab clothes and shove them into a duffle. “you don’t have to go tonight. just stay.” he pleads.

“i’m sorry, baby, please. please don't leave.” he cries. you move faster sobbing, you hated hearing him cry. your chest is heavy, as you cry so hard it’s hard to breathe. he walks into the closet and hugs you tight. “please don’t leave me. i don’t want to be alone tonight. please if you want to leave i have to be okay with letting you go, but i want you, i need you to know that I'm not giving up on us. just one more night. stay with me one more night, let me know you're not giving up on me.” you cry. you want to fall apart. “okay.” you say. he hugs you and doesn’t let go. he holds you so tight and so sure. his hands are shaking as he pulls you in. you get this feeling in your gut, you need space and so does he. one night only.

he finally lets go and holds your hand. you strip yourselves of your clothes and lay in bed holding each other, both of you praying this wasn’t the last time you'd hold each other so close.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you arrive at the hospital. “jeon jungkook.” you speak to the front desk clerk. “relationship?” she asks. “umm, he’s my-my fiance.” she types quickly as you flash your id. “room 613,” she says.

you speed to the elevator taking it up to the sixth four. you look around the floor and run up to the door. you look through the small cut-out of glass. he’s just lying there, an oxygen mask on his face. tears start to pour from your eyes.

“oh my god” you back up starting to panic. “ma’am?” a doctor calls. you turn. “i’m doctor hill. are you his fiancee?” you nod. “yes, please tell me what happened.” you beg. “unfortunately, he was on the expressway southbound, and it seems that he lost control of his motorcycle, he ran into the back of a semi. he’s helmet saved him from any brain damage, but he is having a hard time breathing on his own as he’s punctured his left lung. he hasn’t woken up since we put him under anesthesia, the surgery was a success.” he explains looking at the file in his hands.

“he’s in a coma?” you ask. he nods sincerely. “he is alive and stable, but we aren’t sure when he will come out the the coma, it could be days, maybe months.” you began to sob. “i’m so sorry.” your soul is fading, it was hard to believe. you walk back up to the glass. you stare at him and curse yourself for ever leaving his side. you open the door and walk up to him. you just look at him, and tears fall. he has a black eye and some stitches about his eyebrow.

“i’m so sorry, baby.” you sob quietly. you hold his hand and sob harder when he doesn’t do the double squeeze he’d usually do. you kiss his cheek. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ll be right here i promise.” walk to the other side lay down your purse in the chair and push it to his bedside. you sit laying your head beside him. you gripped his hand and held it tightly.

you didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep until a nurse awakes you. “i’m sorry, here’s his belongings.” she hands you a clear bag with jungkook’s stuff inside. grab the back sitting up and opening it. his jacket was covered in blood, which made your eyes brim. his wallet you noticed something poking out of it. you pulled out a small polaroid of you and him on your first date. you wore disguises and went to six flags. you’d ask another couple to take the photo after you got off the batman ride. you smile reminiscing about how much fun you both had that day.

at the bottom of the bag is a chain with a ring on it, your ring. it was covered in blood as well. you sob, the nurse turns after checking on jungkook. “i’m so sorry ma’am. is there anything i can do for you. are you hungry? coffee?” you shake your head thanking her anyway before she leaves.

you undo the chain sliding your ring off. you hold it up walking over to the sink, washing and drying it, your tears still falling. you slide the ring onto your finger, holding it close to your chest. you walk over to your chair sitting and laying next to him again. “please wake up. please.” you beg.

you wish you never left his side. this was your fault, you thought to yourself. somehow, some way you had a feeling you could've stopped this.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

it had been three weeks since the accident. you were at the hospital every day since. you called your mom to pack a bag for you with everything you needed. your boss a friend of jungkook’s understood, telling you to take how long it took for jungkook to get better.

“good morning aundra.” you speak to the nurse you have grown closer with since being there. “morning darling!” she says cutely. “i’m happy to see you in a better mood today.” she speaks. “yea dr. hill says jungkook can breathe on his own. he’s getting stronger.” you explain. “i know. you’ve got a trooper on your hands for sure.” she smiles.

a few hours later you’re on facetime with the boys telling them how much jungkook has been progressing since they saw him the first time. they sigh a sigh of relief. “he’s so strong guy. we know he’ll be back and kicking as soon as he wakes up. you nod, telling them you were going to try to sleep before the next nurse came to check on him telling them you’d talk to them later.

you lay your head on his lap looking at him. “my pretty boy. you’re so strong. you know i never understood this part of you. you take on so much and come back so strong. you are otherworldly, baby.” you kiss his hand and stand going to nap on the bench across the room. you lay down slowly drifting to sleep.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you wake to some talking. “how long has she been here?” you hear a low familiar voice. “3 weeks. every day since the accident. this is the longest she’s slept.” you hear a female voice. you turn your eyes fluttering open. you see jungkook sitting up stuffing his mouth with food.

“jungkook!” you scream running over to him hugging him tightly and he groans. “oh im sorry! you’re just you’re awake. my god youre awake. i’m so fucking happy youre okay. jesus please you scared me half to death.” you hug him sobbing. he hold you tight. he swallows his mouthful of food. “hi baby, im sorry im just so hungry.” you giggle looking at him and pecking his lips.

“you were here this whole time?” he asks. you nod. “everyday, 24/7.” you smile. “thank you. i love you.” he looks at you pecking your lips again. he hold both your hands feeling your ring on your finger his eyes shoot down. “you put your ring back on?” you hum. “yeah… i did. i should’ve never taken it off.” he smiles.

“where were you even going?” you ask him, now you must know. he bites his sandwich and swallows before speaking, “your house. i had taken two weeks off of work, i wanted to show you i was serious. i talked to my manager, and he told me, that if i start doubling down every other day it’d speed things up for us, meaning more free time. more time for us.” you smile at him your eyes spilling with tears. he was on his way to you. you were happy he was thinking of you just as much as you were thinking of him. unfortunately, though you can't help but feel like this was your fault. you shake the thought as he grabs your hand, you interlock fingers.

“i love you so fucking much. so so fucking much jungkook.” he kisses your cheek. “i love you more baby.” he says biting his sandwich. “i heard hospital food sucks, and this could just be because i haven’t eaten in three weeks, but this sandwich is fucking amazing.” you giggle.

“oh i have to call the boys.” you speak wiping away your tears. “i talked to them earlier.” jungkook says. “how long have you been up?” you ask raising your brow. “45 minutes or so, i just didn't want to wake you. the nurse said you had barely been sleeping,” he said.

“duh! my fiancé was unconscious in a hospital bed. if someone sleeps peacefully during that, lock them up and throw away the key.” you state. he chuckles lightly.

“i like when you call me that. it feels good to hear that again.”

“what fiancé?” you ask. he nodded cutely.

“so what are the colors?” he asks all of a sudden. “colors of what?” you ask. “for the wedding. what were you thinking?” you smile and sit beside him. you quickly pull up your pinterest board showing him all your ideas. he didn’t show it but knowing you kept them, comforted him.

“white arch? it’ll clash with your dress.” he points out. “oh. oh my god, you're right! we could do green, maybe like ivy leaves?” you suggest. “i think that’ll be immaculate with my grey suit, too. yea, it’ll look amazing.” he adds.

“you already did so good without me baby.” he says. “but it’s clear that i need you. i would’ve been crying for days about that fucking arch.” he chuckles. “i’m still so stuck on flowers.” you pout. “well dr. hill says i have six weeks to recover before i can’t start schedules again. we have time.” he says. you kiss his cheek fluffing his hair.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

for the first time in six months, you walk into your shared apartment. your pictures still hanging on the wall, everything exactly where you left it.

you lay in bed next to him. he wraps his arm around you pulling you in. he kisses the top of your head. “the bed was so cold without you.” he whispers. “i’m never going anywhere ever again.” you peck his lips.

“i need you. i haven’t gotten a good rest in ages, my sleep paralysis started to act up again. just laying in the hospital room with you i slept more than i have in the last six months.” you say. “you just make me breathe better.” you express.

he pouts it hurts him to hear how badly you were struggling. “i was suffocating without you. i love my job but coming home to you made me feel like i won the lottery. i didn’t realize how much i had won until i lost it. i will not fuck it up this time. winning the lottery once is just luck, but twice is a sign.” you giggle rubbing your nose along his.

“i missed you so much, baby.” he says. “trust me i missed you more.” you reply. “impossible.” he whispers before kissing you deeply. you hum into the kiss, the way he kissed you makes your body tingle. you nervously bury your face into his chest. “you are so cute, why so shy? it’s just me.” he smiles. “you just got that effect on me. you make me feel like a teenager, kicking my feet and daydreaming and shit.” you mumble into his chest, he giggles brightly.

“kiss me again,” you say looking up at him. he obeys quickly kissing your lips. jungkook never found the idea of sucking someone’s tongue until he met you. the way you kiss him had a tent quickly growing in his pants.

he hums. “i’m so hard for you right now.” he states pecking your lips. you lightly push him away tutting. “no physical activity for you sir. dr. hill told me it’s imperative that don’t do anything that requires too much physical activity, for your lungs. so no sex right now.” you explain. “what?! come on. i haven’t felt you in months. now i have to wait even longer?” you nod and he groans throwing his head back in frustration. suddenly an idea pops into your head.

“what if…” he hums letting you know he's listening, “ i give you a handjob?” you whisper. “be serious, babe. don’t tease me.” he whines in his last sentence.

you giggle sliding your hands down his sweats. you stroke him slowly. you quickly look up at his licking your fingers before swirling them on his tip. “oh shit. that feels good.” you continue stroking him at a steady pace. “fuck” he mutters. “i wasn’t trying to cum this soon.” he chuckles nervously. “it’s okay baby. give me your cum. i want it so bad” you say teasingly.

he moans biting his lip. you stroke him faster, “just like like that, ohh shit.” you groan. you stroke him just how he likes. he kisses you deeply as you stroke him. “you are so fucking hot.” he whispers. you kiss him again lightly tugging on his bottom lip. “i’m cumming.” he mumbles moaning as he shoots his thick load onto your hand and in his pants. you slide your hand out covered in him. you look at him licking his cum off your knuckles. he looks at you in awe. “mm” you hum lightly flashing him a smile.

“i just want pick you up and fuck you.” you giggle at his bluntness. “jungkook.” you laugh. “what? the way you were just looking at me when you licked your fingers, you know if i was in full health right now i would be fucking you so good.” you smile pecking his slips. “one week.” you said simply. “that’s how long dr. hill said.” you explain. he looks at you, “you think it’s possible to sleep for a week?” you pinch his nose with your fingers. “yea you were sleep for three. no more sleeping for you sir.” he giggles.

“let’s shower.” you say patting his cheek. “oh definitely, you just made me cum in my pants.” he starts to move but you stop him.

“i’m sorry.” you say for the millionth time. “for what?” he questions. “for not believing in you when you said you'd figure it you. i should’ve,” you say simply. you hold back the tears that are making your throat close up.

“look, i know things were difficult, but i knew that night when you stayed, you weren’t giving up on me. on us,” he corrects. “ you stayed by my side for three weeks. you brushed my hair, you talked to me, you gave me a sponge bath. you always believed in me. this accident was not your fault, i need to understand that.” you pout your eyes threatening to spill.

“nuh-uh, no more tears. it’s only up from here, my love.” you hold his close. his thumb wipes away your tears that fall. “now let’s get in the shower.” he pats your butt before moving and standing up quickly. he groans leaning back onto the bed. “woah, take it easy, baby.” he huffs. “i’m not used to be this slow.” he chuckles.

“in all due time. trust me next week you’ll feel much better,” you explain. he nods as you help him stand. “i got you, babe.” he groans standing. you walk into the bathroom and he leans against the sink. you help him take off his shirt as his shoulder is in pain. “you’d look so hot in scrubs.” he says admiring you as you help him.

“oh hush.” you giggle. you help him take of his pants, his semi hard cock spring out. you look up at him. ��what?” he whines. “you’re still hard?” you tease. “yes! i just thought about how you look naked.” he spoke. you laugh. you lift your shirt off and undo your bra and your tits bounce out.

“see? and you expect me not to be hard right now?” you giggle turning around and turning the shower on. “okay you first.” he steps in letting the hot water hit his skin. “hurry up.” he rushes you. “have some patience,” you say raising your brown jokingly. you slip off your shorts and step in. your back faces jungkook as you reach for your shampoo, and suddenly a slap hits your ass. you stand quickly. “jungkook.” you warn.

“what? come on. your ass was on full display, it was the urges inside me.” you chuckle. “that wasn’t me, i didn’t want to slap your ass, but the parasites in me wanted to slap your ass.” you laugh loudly. “shut up!” you chide jokingly.

you apply soap onto a washcloth, and start washing his chest. “i wanna get married tomorrow.” he says suddenly. “what?!” you almost yell. you look at him in disbelief. “i don’t even have a dress.” you explain. “then let’s go thrift one. i realized that life is too short, and in this lifetime i need you to be my wife.” you smile, but you don’t say anything. “what if… we get married tomorrow, and we still have a wedding. we can still do it big, when we actually get married it’s just us. me and you like i will be forever.” you suggest. you smile at him. “okay.” you say. “okay like you're just doing it for me or you love the idea?” you chuckle as you realize his small panic. “i love the idea. just me and you.” you say.

“forever,” he adds.

“and ever, until the end of time.” you grin, finally everything feels good. you stand in front of your soon-to-be husband, excited for what the future holds.

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

[spinchip]

He keeps ending up in these situations- these soft, quiet moments with Zane where everything Lloyd wants to say is crowding behind his teeth before he swallows it all back down. He never felt bold enough to disturb the piece, or maybe he never felt sure-footed enough to navigate the conversation. The land around the topic of the Never Realm was still littered with landmines and sinkholes. Zane didn't talk to them about it.

They're stargazing. Lloyd was out here first basking in the rare alone time. He'd turned Kai away two hours ago when he'd come to check on him, but when Zane stood over him and blotted out the stars with a weak smile- Lloyd invited him to stay, and promised himself he wouldn't shelve this conversation for another day.

He's look at Ursa Major when he says it, "I'm Afraid you'll never be okay again."

There's a soft pause.

"I am okay, Lloyd." Zane reassures him in a voice that is so much more monotone than before the Never Realm, "Therapy has been extremely rewarding. I feel like myself again."

He sits up, propping himself up on arms that don’t tremble, “You’re not yourself, though.” He feels like he has to force the words out from behind the lump in his throat, “You don’t cook, or meditate, or bird watch anymore-” He stops to center himself, “...I’m scared you’ll never go back to normal.”

Zane is the quiet one this time.

Lloyd lies back down, feeling worse than before. They watch the stars trek across the sky.

“I believe this is the new normal, Lloyd.” He says very, very quietly.

Immediately Lloyd sits up again, twisting to face Zane, “How can you say that? Two months ago you were acting totally fine! Yeah, when you came back from the Never Realm you spent a whole month alone in your room... but then you were Zane again, and now- now you’re…”

“Different.” Zane finishes, “I have changed.”

“Yeah.” Lloyd turn forward, staring down in his lap.

No one says anything. Lloyd feels like he's royally blowing this conversation and making everything worse.

“...When I first returned from the Never Realm, I was... in a dark place. It was easier to hide and sort through things on my own, But I… had not dealt with it as well as I could have. After I spent that time alone and I returned to the team, once more joining with the group socially, I was still a mess. I did not know who I was, and I did not feel like anyone- not Zane, and not the emperor. So I looked in my memory banks and pretended.”

Lloyd looks back at Zane, who’s eyes are fixed resolutely on the moon and not Lloyd's reaction. “You… what?”

“I did not want to worry you. My theory was that If i acted like I was okay, I would be. I hoped I could figure it all out before anyone realized I was wearing a mask, that I could fix myself to the point where I could stop pretending.” He links his hands together on top of his stomach, “Then Cyrus Borg put me in touch with his therapist." Two times a week, every Monday and Thursday. Lloyd knew that. "She helped me realize that this act I was putting on was not a positive move for me and my recovery. It is not that I have regressed, Lloyd- i have simply stopped pretending to be who I used to be.”

“You were trying to protect us?”

There’s another pause, “It was partly selfish, too. I was… afraid. I was scared that if you and the others realized just how much I had changed, you would not see me the same. That the love you had for me would not be able to adapt to who I have become.”

“I- of course we would love you! Always!” Lloyd insisted immediately, “It’s not- I didn’t mean- I was just worried. I’m sorry.” He feels shame curdle in his gut at his earlier words, unintentionally picking at Zane's insecurity.

“I understand your feelings, Lloyd. You do not need to apologize,” He smiles softly at him and its not the same smile Lloyd is so used to, but it has its own warmth, “Change is not… a bad thing. The circumstances leading to this were, but this is what healing looks like for me at this point. I am figuring out who I am again- I do not bird watch or cook or meditate, no, but I think you’ll be surprised at how good my knitting has gotten.” He offers Lloyd another tiny smile, “I am finding my happiness again.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Zane's soft blue eyes flicker back up to the stars and his smile turns gentle, “You are always helping, even if you do not realize it. All of you are.”

[kinardsevan]

wip Thursday

tagged by the effervescent @perfectlysunny02, and in the same vein as them, don't I have a million WIPs? Yes, yes I do. But also, I mentioned this idea last week. And... well... oops? (And it's entirely their fault because of the violence they chose with THEIR teaser today.)

Alas, I give you unnecessary, momentary, legendary (working title)

-

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be here. That’s all he could think about; he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

He’d had a full day of plans while Evan was on shift. He was supposed to stop by Harbor and pick up a package he’d had shipped there and forgot to bring home the night before. He was supposed to have lunch with Howie and Jee-Yun. He was supposed to swing by the 118 and swap keys with Evan because something was going on with the Rubicon’s engine. He was supposed to spend the afternoon figuring out if it was going to be an easy fix or not. Evan would be home before sunset. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

Except, Evan was back at work after being down with a nasty virus for the past few days, and the only thing that had really been helping him feel better was the honey citrus tea from their favorite café. It wasn’t even a drink that his boyfriend cared for that much, but Tommy had introduced it to him the first time he’d gotten sick a few months into their relationship, and it had been a game changer for him. It wasn’t a cure by any means, but it definitely helped. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

“Natalie?” He croaks out her name, leaning half up off of the tile floor, hand pressed into his abdomen next to his hip. He can’t see her behind the glass casing that contains the pastries, and she hasn’t said anything in a few minutes. The higher he tries to sit himself up, the more pain shoots down his side. “Nat!?” 

It takes more than a few seconds, but eventually—too long—he hears the sound of what he assumes is broken glass shifting on the floor. A small whimper. 

“T-Tommy?” 

“Nat?” He calls back, turning his head towards the back of the counter again. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

She doesn’t respond, but then he sees the familiar flurry of jello-red hair appear from behind the pastry case, and then she’s climbing over the counter, her combat boots crunching glass on the floor as she moves towards him. Tommy looks up at her, his paramedic skills immediately kicking in as he takes her in. 

She’s got a cut on her forehead and her hands are bleeding—he assumes from all the broken glass. There’s a slash across her forearm where the knife got her, bleeding pretty decently. His eyes trail down to the side of her apron, the stain spreading across it and her jeans. She’s bleeding from somewhere on her leg. His gaze drifts to the counter and the streak of blood coming across it where she crawled over. 

“N-Nat, we gotta call the cops,” he tells her warily. 

“What if he comes back,” she asks anxiously, her voice shaking as tears come down her face. She sinks to the ground next to him, ignorant of the glass on the ground around him. 

Tommy shakes his head at her, digging into his pocket with blood-coated fingers, fumbling his phone when his fingers come into contact with it. He pulls it out as he looks back up at her. 

“You gave him everything, right,” he asks her. “Didn’t fight?” 

“No,” she sobs, leaning over him. “God, Tommy, I’m so sorry.” 

He shakes his head at her, reaching for one of the napkin holders knocked onto the floor nearby. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he tells her. He keeps flashing hot and cold, and he can feel himself getting clammy. He tries to focus his attention on his phone, dialing the number into it. 

“Tommy, you’re bleeding,” she cries. 

“I’m fi-…fine,” he stammers, slumping back against the floor. “We’re fine.” 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” 

“5943 Ventura Boulevard,” he rattles off. “This is off-duty Rescue 1701 out of Harbor Station, I need to be transferred to Maddie Buckley.” 

“Just a moment sir.” The line clicks off for all of ten seconds, and then clicks back on. 

“9-1-1, this is Maddie Buckley speaking,” her voice comes back. There’s just the slightest hitch of anxiety in her voice, like she knows being routed to personally isn’t normal. 

“Maddie,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to get the tears out of them. 

“Tommy,” she replies, her voice suddenly flooded with panic. “What’s going on? Is Evan- a-are you- is Howie-…” 

“They’re fine,” he chokes out. “B-but, I need RA and police. S-Stabbing at the café.” 

His head drops back against the floor, and he can feel his vision getting fuzzy. He looks over at Natalie. She looks even more panicked than she did before. His gaze drifts down to where his other hand is. Blood is completely coated over his fingers. 

“N-Nat, I need you to use your apron to apply pressure,” he rasps. 

“Stabbing?! Tommy where are you,” Maddie cries from the other end of the line. Tommy rattles the address off to her again. 

“D-dont send Evan,” he rasps at her. “God, he can’t find me. You hear me, Maddie? Don’t send him. Do not let him see me like this.” 

She hiccups a cry on the other end of the line, and there are hushed voices clearly trying to get her off the line, but she speaks clearly enough that Tommy hears when she growls ‘no’ back at whoever is trying to get her to hand the call off. 

“You know I love him, right,” he continues. Natalie presses her apron into his side then and he can’t help the cry that falls out of his mouth. “F-fuck. M-Maddie?” 

“I know,” she cries. “Stay with me, Tommy. Don’t hang up on me.” 

He nods letting his head rest back against the floor. 

“No, come on, Tommy,” Natalie cries, pressing harder into his wounds. “Come on. Stay awake.” 

“Trying,” he murmurs, looking around the floor. “I-I, I want to marry him, you know,” he tells Maddie. “He just walked into my life like- like he was always supposed to be here. And I thought I’d lost out on my chance by taking too long to figure my shit out. Fuck, Nat. Yeah, that’s good, keep pushing down.” 

“He talks about you being it for him all the time,” Maddie replies. He can tell she’s crying. “Keeps telling me that he thinks you’ll be a great dad.” 

Tommy lets out a small laugh and then groans at the wave of pain that shoots across his abdomen and stomach. 

“I wasn’t sure, before him,” he replies, letting his eyes slip shut. The phone starts to sag in his hand, but the cry of Natalie’s voice and sudden, sharp pressure on his side has his eyes shooting open again. “Fuck, okay. Okay.” He swallows hard, taking a breath. “B-but if anyone could convince me that we could do it together, it’s him.” 

Maddie hiccups another sob. “I’ve watched him lose one relationship after another, think what he’s holding onto is the right one while knowing it isn’t. But I never said anything because I was just his sister, you know? And I know you said he walked into your life, but you spun into his with a literal hurricane and I’ve never seen him… I don’t even know, Tommy. This settled? Happy? Secure?” 

“H-he deserves it,” Tommy rasps, his head lolling back and eyes getting heavier. 

“Damn it, Tommy, come on,” Natalie cries. “Stay awake, please.” 

“s’getting harder,” Tommy slurs. “Maddie, I love him. So much more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. Want him more, dream about him more, choose him more. My life begins and ends at Evan Buckley.” The tears swimming in his eyes finally slip down the side of his face, his vision tight now, and extremely hazy. 

“Tommy, stay with me,” Maddie cries. Her voice seems farther away now. “The ambulance is so close. Please?” 

“Tell him I love him more than anything else,” he replies, coughing out another groan. “That I choose him. Every day, all the time. I pick him.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes too heavy to open back up. “I love you, Evan.” 

[diaphamin]

#epicfortnitelobby! — random duos tonight

THURSDAY 9:09PM — HAECHAN STREAM

“hey chat, is everyone here?” haechan smiled into the camera, greeting and thanking every donation. “let’s get started huh, random duos night, hope it’s fun— been kind of boring the past couple weeks right?” he laughed.

haechan played with random people every thursday, the people he got paired with ranged from shitty newcomers, to insane super fans. to haechan, it didn’t matter who he got paired with. it was the thrill of finding out what the person would be like he liked the most.

he loaded into the lobby waiting for his duo to arrive next, that’s when your name popped up. “you got a mic, username?” he spoke up getting ready to leave the match if you didn’t talk back, “yeah what’s up!” your voice rang through his ears, “oh shit you scared me!”

“i’m so sorry, it will never happen again.” you giggled out at his reaction, “is your name haechan? or is that just your username.”

“yeah my name is haechan, and yours?” he replied muting his mic to quickly speak to his chat, “i don’t think she knows me, guys.”

“my name is y/n, but you can call me n/n doesn’t matter, hey by the way you aren’t one of those super annoying guys who talk about how amazing at this game they are, right?”

he laughed at your question, “i’m hurt you think of me that way— where are we landing, n/n?” you quickly realized the game had already started, getting distracted by your short introduction, “let’s land here.” you marked a random unnamed spot on the map, “sounds good.”

the two of you landed, quickly gathering a couple guns and stacking up on ammo, and any meds that you needed. “you good on ammo, n/n?” he asked you, “yeah i think i’m set to get out of here.” he hummed in response, muting his mic again, “n/n, is kind of chill guys, what do you think?” he asked his chat.

the comments began to quickly flood with things like

haenings: can you focus on the game or

hcfullsun: perchance

PARKJI: it’s been like 2 seconds how should we know???

bootyliciousjisung77: JISUNG???😍

PARKJI: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“why are you guys so mean to me i was asking a simple question.” he rolled his eyes at the camera, refocusing his attention to his screen, “hey you still there?” he asked you, unmuting himself once more.

“yes, and some help would be greatly appreciated.”

he smiled at your response heading to the random location you ended up in, killing off the remaining people from the squads you were taking on, “oh my knight in shining armor decided to finally show up.” you teased him, picking up the loot from the people he eliminated, “you loot goblin, those were my kills!”

“think of it as compensation, for feeding me to the wolves.”

“nobody told you to run off on your own, dumbass.”

PARKJI: call me a dumbass next, sugar daddy😍

00hae00: JISUNG????

bootyliciousjisung77: ji can you be my sugar daddy?

PARKJI: PLEASE GO AWAY😭

after a while there was only four people remaining, meaning it was you and haechan, versus some other random duo. “i see them!” you spoke up marking the spot on the map you saw the two others at, “cool cool, let’s push it.”

haechan headed over to the area you marked, you following closely behind. quickly spotting the two others camped behind a rock the four of you spammed your guns back and forth until the words, ‘victory royale’ appeared on your screen.

“shit, w’s in the chat.” haechan leaned back in his chair, looking at the words that just appeared on his screen,

PARKJI: WWWWWWWWWW

“that was fun, uh— see you!” you spoke into your mic getting ready to hop off for the night, “wait! can i send you a friend request?” he asked before you had the chance to leave, “oh, sure.”

“cool cool, accept me.”

“i did, see you later haechan.” you said for the last time before turning off your game,

“yeah see you later.”

PARKJI: please don’t give her all your money i need it

0haes: oh but i had to sub for 6 months to get a request

jisuning: 0haes HAHAHAHA

“can you guys relax, this isn’t the first time i’ve done this, why do you always react like that?” he sighed, “let’s load up again.”

ningning222: NING RAID

NING2NING: HI DIVAS 💜

i2ninghae: NING NING RAIDDDD

PARKJI: NING NING

NING2NING: parties over.

“w ningning, you guys are crazy.” he laughed, “hey lebronbuttcheek, you got a mic?”

[previous] — [masterlist] — [next]

yapamin: OMGGGGG THE FIRST CHAPTER IS DONEEEE, sorry if this is shitty i’ve barely written before so my hair was turning grey while writing this. i’m really excited for this guyssssss. i hope you’ll like it as much as i do. love you sm ♡

taglist: open ♡ @sunflowerhae @n0hyuck @catpjimin @222low @robinsluva @selleular @222brainrot @kodasity @dudekiss3r @multifandomania @injunnie-lemon

[reigningqueenofwords]

One Second, Sweetheart

Pairing: Dean x plus size!Reader Word count: 1,682 Warnings: Fatphobia Request: Can you do a request with Dean and the plus size reader where they go to a festival and she takes his snap back and he is just in awe but he gets mad when guys start saying mean things about her. She is in shorts and a tank top and he finally has enough and freaks out in the guy.

Read on AO3

Part 1 of Festival

You’d been looking forward to this weekend for months . Dean had gotten the pair of you tickets to a festival you’d been wanting to go to, but always came up with reasons not to. Finally, he bought them so there would be no more excuses. You’d bought a couple new outfits (you’d even splurged at Torrid!) just for the occasion, as well. 

He would be picking you up on Thursday night, driving most of the day Friday, and then checking into your hotel Friday night. You’d been the one to book that. There was no way you’d let him pay for everything! The festival would be on Saturday and Sunday, and then you’d be driving home Monday morning. Four days with your best friend. That you may or may not be in love with. Maybe. Not that you’d ever tell him that. 

Standing in your room, you looked over your bed. You were packing for your trip, and trying to make sure that you didn’t miss anything. “Outfit for Saturday, check.” You muttered to yourself. “Two outfit options for Sunday.” You went on. “Chub rub stick, deodorant, dry shampoo, makeup bag, a pair of cute shoes, a pair of comfy shoes…” You went on. “Why does it feel like I’m forgetting something?” You furrowed your brows. “Phone charger! Oh my God. How did I forget that?!” You went to grab your spare. The last thing you wanted was your phone dying. 

You grinned when you opened your door Thursday night. “Hi!” You let him in. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled. “Looking forward to this weekend?” He sure as hell was!

“I am. Four days with my best friend? Of course I’d be looking forward to it.” You teased. “Let me get my shoes on, and then we can go.” 

He motioned to the two bags by the door. “Just these two?” He asked, glancing at you. You simply nodded. “I’ll get these out to the car.” He lifted them without giving you a chance to protest. A moment later he was headed back out. 

You quickly got on your shoes, grabbed your phone and purse, and followed him out. Once your door was locked, you jogged out to the car. “Did you want me to drive first?” You offered. 

“Nah. I napped all day.” He shrugged. “You hungry?” He leaned on the top of the Impala, that knee buckling smile on his face. 

“I could eat.” You smiled, slipping into the passenger’s seat.

“That’s my girl.” He said proudly. 

Saturday morning, you were up early. Before Dean was up, you quickly got ready, and then went out to get the pair of you breakfast. Sure, you could have gotten something at the hotel, but you didn’t always like the options. So, you went down the road to a little cafe you’d seen. 

Twenty minutes later, you were walking back into the hotel room with breakfast and coffee. “Wondered where you went, sweetheart.” Dean spoke from the side of his bed. His voice still held the remnants of sleep.

“Was hoping to get back before you woke up.” You chuckled, setting everything down on the table. “I got you an egg, bacon, and cheese bagel, with a hashbrown.” You smiled. “And then a coffee.” 

“Smells amazing.” He got up to go sit with you at the table. “I’ll shower after I eat and then we can head out. Sound good?” 

You nodded, getting comfortable in your chair. “Sounds perfect.” 

“This has been amazing, Dean!” You gushed after you’d been at the festival a few hours. “I will never be able to thank you enough for this.” You looked around, not seeing the way he looked at you. “You will get the best Christmas and birthday presents ever for the rest of your life.” 

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “Nah, this was for both of us.” He told you honestly. Seeing you light up like this was a gift enough for him. 

You grinned up at him. “Selfie together?” You asked, hopeful. You really hadn’t taken many pictures that day, but you knew you wanted at least one of the pair of you. 

“Of course.” He agreed, taking your phone. “I am taller.” He teased, holding up the phone to get a couple pictures. “Wanna go grab lunch at the hotel, cool off, then come back when it’s socially acceptable to drink?” He asked as he handed you back your phone to put in your little bag. 

“Sounds good. Give our feet a break.” And give you a chance to refresh your anti-chub rub stick. 

After a few drinks, you were a bit giggly. Not drunk, but feeling really good. Smiling up at Dean, you bit your lip and snatched his snapback off his head when he wasn’t looking. He whipped his head around just to see you putting it on. “What do you think?” You asked, striking a playful pose. 

He had been fully ready to tell someone off for taking his hat until he realized that it had been you. Licking his lips, he playfully let out a sigh. “I think I just lost my hat because it looks good on you. Matches your tank top.” He noted. 

You blushed, nudging his side lightly, and you were taken aback when he put his arm around you to keep you close. You shyly put your arm around his waist, not complaining one bit. While you could hear laughter, you assumed it was just other festival goers having a good time. Drinks had been flowing for a few hours now, afterall. However, when you heard a ‘moo’ a little to close to you, you tense. 

Dean noticed, glancing at you. “You okay?” He asked, worried. 

“I’m fine.” You brushed it off. “How about we go to the taco truck for dinner?” You suggested. 

“Yeah, because she needs tacos.” A voice from not far snorted. 

That one Dean had heard, but he didn’t want to ruin your night, so he ignored it. “Sounds good.” He smiled, moving to lead you away from whatever asshole made that comment. He didn’t realize the same group was following. “Burgers tomorrow for dinner?” He suggested. 

“Have I ever turned burgers with you down, Dean?” You teased. 

“She should, isn’t that cannibalism?” Another voice laughed, making you swallow. You weren’t unused to cruel comments, you’d been bigger your whole life. However, it had died down quite a bit since you’d graduated high school years ago. “Maybe get a damn salad.” 

Your hand gripped the side of Dean’s shirt, willing them to just go away. “How’s Sammy doing?” You asked, trying to veer things away from the rude guys behind you. 

Dean chuckled. “He’s good.” He smiled. “Starts every call asking me if we’re dating yet.” He admitted, making your eyebrows shoot up. “Then gets annoyed when I tell him no.” 

Before you could say anything, another rude comment met your ears. “Who the hell would want to date her?” The first voice asked. “She should go to the gym and put some damn clothes on. No one wants to see that.” 

Dean’s jaw clenched as he moved his arm from around you. “One second, sweetheart.” He saw the worry on your face. “I’m just going to talk to them.” 

You watched him get closer to them and gasped when his fist met some guy’s nose. “Dean!” You rushed over, pulling on the back of his shirt. 

“What? You can say a bunch of shit but you can’t deal with the consequences?” He spat at the group who looked like they were about to bolt. “Learn not to be such assholes and you won’t wind up with a broken nose.” 

“What the hell, man?!” One finally spoke up. “Why are you defending that?!” 

That made Dean even madder. “That? That ?! That is my best friend, the woman I love, and a better person than you could ever hope to be.” 

“Come on, Dean.” You tugged him, as more people were looking. “Let’s go back to the motel.” You said softly. He loved you?! Since when? 

Dean heard the softness of your voice and let himself be pulled away. “Yeah, let’s go.” He pulled you back to his side, kissing the top of your head as he led you towards the exit. He was clearly still upset over what was said, but now he was also a bit worried. You’d heard him say that he loves you. Would he lose his best friend? He couldn’t lose you! 

Neither of you said anything the entire way back to the hotel. Neither of you knew what to say. You were wrapping your head around him feeling the same way about you, and he was panicking that this would push you away. 

Finally, you sat on the end of your bed and pulled off your sneakers. You left his hat on your head, not wanting to give it back just yet. “Hey, Dean?” You asked, nervous. 

“Yeah?” He braced himself. 

“Did you mean what you said? That you love me?” You asked, crossing your fingers it wasn’t just something to shut those guys up. He blushed and looked down, speaking volumes. “Because I love you, too.” 

His head shot up, and his eyes were wide. “What?” He breathed. 

You giggled at the look on his face. “I’ve loved you for ages. Who wouldn’t?” You asked, getting up to walk to where he was sitting. “Thank you for sticking up for me.” You ran your hand through his hair. As he leaned into your touch you giggled. 

“I’ll always defend you, sweetheart.” He sighed, sounding content. He surprised you by wrapping his arms around your hips. As he rested his head against your stomach, perfectly comfortable holding you. 

“How about we order dinner, and then cuddle while we wait for it to get here?” You asked, feeling brave. 

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He agreed, looking forward to holding you. “Sleep in my bed tonight? We can keep it totally PG.” He promised, looking up at you. 

Smiling, you nodded. “I think I can do that.” 

[writing-bakugo]

When You Know, You Know ~ Katsuki Bakugo

You experience a ton of firsts with Bakugo...including the moment you realized you wanted to marry him.

Warnings: self-conscious reader, Mitsuki does't like the reader

You? Yeah, you didn’t do change well. Back in high school, the first week of the semester you were often found in the bathroom puking up lunch. Something about change in the routine made your hairs stick up on your arms and your stomach eject its contents. 

You were dating for a week when Bakugo asked you to spend the weekend at his family’s home. Of course, you’d known Bakugo since freshman year in high school, but the sudden jump from giddy good morning text messages now that you were dating to “my shitty dad’s throwing a work party for my mom. On Saturday” was jarring. 

You didn’t know what to do. The thought made your mouth and throat hot and your head pale and sweaty. So, all week you interrogated your friends. Kirishima was first, obviously. 

“But like we haven’t been dating for long, Ei. Going to his parents? That's a big step...that's like you date for a year and then...you know?”

“He probably didn’t even think about it like that. It’s fine.”

Kaminari said, “yeah he’s an idiot. Don’t go. It’s only been a week.”

Then there was “OH MY GOSH! You HAVE to go” Mina. 

Thursday night arrived before you knew it. You gulped and decided to confess your anxiety to Bakugo. 

“That’s something extras care about,” Bakugo said. 

“I guess…” When it came to comfort, your boyfriend wasn’t exactly…tuned in. “I just—“

“Relax,” he huffed, “it’s only weird if you make it weird. My family isn't the kind of family to sweat that shit.”

Somehow the way his eyes were soft and pleading made you agree. Which is how you found yourself standing outside of Bakugo’s childhood home the next night with a backpack slung over your shoulder. 

“Katsuki brought a girl?!” Mitsuki couldn’t believe her eyes. Her son had a girlfriend?! And didn’t mention anything?! “Where’s Kirishima?”

“Who cares,” Bakugo huffed. He dragged you upstairs to his childhood room and you couldn’t help but giggle at the three All Might figurines sitting on his desk. 

“Who didn’t love All Might?” You asked aloud before the door slammed open. 

Mitsuki stood in a fit of steam and yelled, “I’m taking her, Katsuki!”

“Like hell you are, hag!” Bakugo yelled right back. 

But you found yourself standing in a spare room. It was large. Fabric strewn everywhere and clothes hung on racks. You didn't know what to say to Mitsuki, so you responded robotically with one-word answers.

Mitsuki wasn't impressed.

“It’s a work party,” Mitsuki said, “we work in the fashion industry so…let’s get you something to strut around in.”

You weren’t Mitsuki’s definition of worthy for her son. You weren’t drop-dead gorgeous like the models she worked with and you definitely didn’t have the personality she saw fit for Bakugo. 

In her eyes, Bakugo needed someone just as spit-fire as him. Of course, if she thought about it for too long, she might've seen the resemblance between her and Masaru and you and Bakugo. But to her? Bakugo needed a woman who wouldn't take his shit.

Your one-word agreements were entirely way too bland.

And when she made you try on a designer dress, one that she said she’s been working on for four months, you couldn’t help the knots that formed in your stomach. You’d never worn anything this…expensive before. Honestly, it draped on the ground and you thought it fitting for a modeling show.

Mitsuki frowned. “It’s too small for you.”

That struck a chord. You awkwardly laughed and tried to play it off. "Oh you're right!"

"You know, if you dieted I'm sure we could get this in you within aa month."

You knew she probably didn’t mean much by it. She was so used to being surrounded by starving models it probably was just a new experience for her too. You had a body carved of muscles and scars—not one that would ever see itself on the runway.

Plus, there’s no way she would’ve known an off-handed comment about your weight would’ve made you nauseous. 

She made you put on multiple dresses before you landed on one that you could squeeze into. By the time you were done, you’d felt completely out of steam and just wanted to curl up with Bakugo. 

Sure, you weren’t what Mitsuki had in mind for her son. But you were a pro and you had the body that came with the job. Same as Bakugo. 

The party was a similar train wreck. You were in an event center that you’d only seen on TV. Models galore draped themselves on a feral Bakugo. Steam erupted from his ears once, and you thought one of them was going to flop over dead. They didn’t stop coming onto him until he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. 

The contact made your stomach flutter. He’s never held you like this before. His hot breath tickled against that scar on your neck (the one you received in a battle oversees in Manhattan) and he rubbed circles on your hip. 

You ate food you’d never heard of and drank cocktails you didn’t know existed. The entire time, Bakugo clung to you like a koala on a tree and glared at anyone who came too close. 

Then it was over. People streamed out of the event center and Bakugo dragged you to his car. 

“That shit gets harder every damn time," he grumbles under his breath before you were driving back to his childhood home. 

You were ecstatic when Mitsuki and Masaru left you both alone when they arrived home. It was 1 am in all fairness, and you wanted out of the tight dress. But you couldn't lift your arms past your collar bone, let alone try to twist around to unzip the clingy fabric.

"Katsuki," you whispered and stared at the ground, "can you uh...can you help me out?"

His fingers on your back sent shivers down your spine and the butterflies in your stomach took to the air and scorching saliva drenched your mouth when you pushed him away and ran to the bathroom. 

“The fuck?” He chased after you and stopped when you keeled over the toilet. Bakugo rolled his eyes and crossed him arms, watching as you unloaded all the expensive and unholy hors d’oeuvres into the toilet. 

It made you squirm even more with his crimson eyes beating against you like a falcon when you retched. The pressure built up in your eyes and nose and your throat seared when tears and bile dribbled into the toilet. 

“I think my mom has some nausea pills. Want one?”

“No,” you gasped and sat back in your feet. “Sorry, I just…I need to brush my teeth and lay down.”

After a few seconds, you pulled yourself up and rinsed your mouth before reaching for your toiletry bag and tugging out your toothbrush and toothpaste. 

Bakugo grunted and grabbed his toothbrush, pulled out his phone and set a timer for two minutes. 

“DIE! DIE!” Bakugo yelled in the mirror and you watched with wide eyes, your toothbrush falling limp in your mouth. “DIE! Fucking germs!”

Your laughter graced his ears and he piqued an eyebrow at you. 

Before you realized it, you were saying, “I want to brush my teeth with you everyday, Katsuki.”

The declaration made both your faces beet red. It was so simple and comforting, standing next to Bakugo while he yelled at his teeth. It was so…him. Watching him brush his teeth was the most Bakugo thing you witnessed since you started dating that even though it was so new, it was something you wanted to do with him always. 

Something your friends always told you popped in your head when you stared at him while he gnawed on his toothbrush:

"When you know, you know. You'll understand later."

You could marry him right here with spit on your chin and a fury in his eyes. You would wear this designer dress hanging off your shoulders and he'd wear his sweats and that was the moment you knew.

This was a type of intimacy you'd never experienced.

And that was a change that made you truly happy.

[builtaworldwithyourlove]

I Forget Where We Were

1.6k/ joel miller x f!reader / MINORS DNI

summary: life with Joel from the start. Be kind please- this is my first piece and has taken 6 months of courage🤍

Chapter Two: Rivers In Your Mouth

And you showed me hope amidst the harlequins in spring

what to expect: a chance encounter. He knows where you live. Things are heating up in the kitchen (the metaphorical kitchen)

warnings: bad language i guess idk?😂fluff, dad!joel,female reader (please let me know if there is anything I’m missing, I will elaborate as the series goes on) no outbreak, age gap (reader is mid 20s and Joel is mid 40s), kinda cheesy joel, previous hurt and potential trauma for reader,dark!joel, teasing, mild , pining. So much pining. It’s a forest. Unrealistic but a bitch can dream. Please suggest any more you can think of that I need to add.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The week passed slowly, and it was now Thursday evening. There were no more encounters with Joel, which made the hours drag. The work day was done, and you cleared your to do list, feeling surprisingly productive, despite the flashes of Joel through your mind. Not even a phone number, or a hint at when, or if, you’ll see him again. With a sigh, it was time to get the grocery shop and continue your week of self care.

The sun was setting and the sticky summer heat embraced you as you braved the outdoors from the shield of your cosy air conditioned apartment.

Feeling irritable, lonely and wishing you were taking on the task with Joel, you opened the gates to your complex and waited for a clear gap to drive out. Amazing, isn’t it? Your first interaction was a couple of days ago and your heart is distracted at the thought of your lives intertwined.

Tapping your red manicured nails on your steering wheel whilst in a daze waiting for the traffic flow to clear, a familiar face driving a black truck flashes and stops to let you out. The world stops spinning and you have tunnel vision on the rugged man who winks at you as you gasp. Exhilarated at the thought he now knows where to find you.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

With the mundane errands polluting your earlier excitement, you get home, open your balcony doors and unwind for the evening. Dinner is cooked and cleared away, and you’ve showered and pampered. Of course, showers would be much better with Joel towering over you.

You watch over the streets from your balcony, glass of ice water in hand and pale blue pyjamas sitting over your hips and edging onto your thighs. Scanning the road meticulously for any sign of life at 9:30pm, you notice dimmed headlights facing you from across the road. Your imagination runs wild as you remember: Joel Miller knows where you live.

The headlights brighten as the engine turns over and the truck pulls out of the road and turns right. Miller Contracting… written across the side, practically fluorescent and blinking like a Las Vegas strip sign.

Your throat dries and you look for any relief from the way he has you flustered.

Shaking it off, you go to head to bed before realising you forgot your phone cable in the car. You rush down to the car, and gasp when you see Joel Miller walking to your gates.

‘Hey little lady. Didn’t mean to startle you’ he coos, smiling as he chews his gum between words.

You laugh and straighten out your pyjamas. ‘It’s okay, I noticed your truck. Kinda hoped we’d cross paths. Is that weird?’

He clenches his jaw and slouches against the gate pillar. The feeling of butterflies grows.

‘Darling I saw you earlier and remember and the thought of you being alone possessed me. I couldn’t shake the feeling of just checking in, I didn’t intend for you to notice but thought I’d try my luck when you disappeared and I couldn’t see your shadows.’

‘I know it’s late, but I’m off work tomorrow, do you want to come in?’ You shocked yourself with the devil on your shoulder holding the reins on this interaction.

His brown eyes twinkled, with a hint of curiosity. All that played in Joel’s mind was ‘Lord, help me look after this girl’

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joel held the small of your back as you lead the way to your apartment,gazing in admiration as you flutter your lashes over your shoulder whilst giggling like a teenager.

He cautiously lowered his hand down your thighs across to hold your hand. Again, embracing them like you were made of glass. Little did he know, you wanted to shatter under his weight.

You lead him through your hallway, and his heart burst at the sheer femininity of your home. It felt like an unveiling of the most intimate parts of you, further reinforcing his desire to protect you. The smell of incense and vanilla bean candles filled the room, and your freshly washed hair and cocoa butter lotion threw Joel upon a high.

Your fingers lingered across his palm, and you guided him to the sofa and offered him a drink.

‘I know it’s a school night, but I have a bottle of white screaming my name’ you whispered, as you bent one knee and knelt onto his lap.

‘Little lady, I don’t have to work tomorrow either, Tommy’s got Sarah and I’m just meant to deliver some materials. Just tell me you don’t mind me here, and I’ll stay.’ His puppy dog eyes met yours and you blushed.

‘Sit back, make yourself at home. I want you here. You intrigue me. And you’re the most handsome man ever’ your voice lowers at the last bit as you turn your back and reach up on tiptoes and reach the wine glasses, your shorts riding up ever so slightly. You turn your head subtly, and see Joel close his eyes tightly before looking up to the skies as if to say ‘heaven help me.’

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Time passes, and you find yourselves gradually encroaching on eachother’s boundary. From sitting opposite eachother, your legs tucked underneath your self and leaning on the back of the sofa with your fist supporting your head, and Joel’s muscular legs open on the sofa, leaning back twiddling the wine glass in front of his belt buckle; to then straightening your legs and Joel rubbing your french-tip toes, as you tell him the tragic turns of events which brought you here.

‘Tell me all about you’ you say, half serious, half pushing your chances.

He then goes into detail about Sarah, his daughter, and the breakdown of the relationship with her mother. You cried. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the vulnerability of someone with such a rough exterior making your house feel like a home, and giving you every reassurance that your heart would be treasured.

He layed his head down on your thighs as you stroked his hair. Curls tangling on your fingers as you inhaled the scent of musk, oud and cedarwood. He folded his arms behind his head, holding you within where his arms met. The veins on his biceps,and the patch of dark hair between his lifted t-shirt and low riding jeans were enough to make you drool.

There was a comfortable silence after he finished up with the latest Sarah anecdote.

‘Joel, this isn’t too much is it?’ you had to go and self sabotage.

He rolled to his stomach and looked at you with promise in his eyes. ‘When I find what I want, I go for it. Time is nothing. One spark may light a match, one spark can cause wildfires. The flame I feel with you is like nothing I’ve felt before. When you know, you know’ Joel tilted his head at your unreadable expression. ‘The last thing I’d do is burn you.’

He stroked your the side of your cheek, in awe of your beauty, and let his thumb outline your lips, as he then pushed for you to open your mouth. You kissed the tip of his thumb, and let your tongue slide on the underside of it. He wrapped his hands round your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your thighs now over his shoulder and his chin rested on your pelvis.

���I’ve never been so infatuated with someone. I thought I’d hate you. I saw your truck at the gym that day, I just thought, douchebag,’you winked playfully’ then the way Tommy stole you away, I thought I’d never see you again. Then the car park, did Tommy know?’

‘I told him the second I saw you. That’s going to be my girl. He was too engrossed with his latest toned pilates ass obsession to notice it was you the other morning’ he placed a kiss to your hipbone, and rubbed his thumb under your waistband.

The ocean in your stomach bubbled, and the butterflies were replaced by a river, threatening to pour out.

‘You know, this may be a weird one to explain to people, considering most people wouldn’t take to being woo’ed via stakeout method’you teased as you pushed back his curls. The creases round his eyes tightened and he laughed, the smile like a small child who had seen fireworks for the first time.

‘I said to Tommy I’d do whatever it takes to make you mine, and the universe blessed me. Or whatever it is you girls and your crystals say.’

‘Stay with me tonight’ you asked. ‘I don’t want anything more to happen, just hold me.’

‘Baby, I’ll stay as long as you want. Are you sure?’ he stroked up your thigh, and applied pressure as he forced himself up off the sofa.

It was 11:48pm, and Joel knew it was Sarah’s sleepover day with her uncle Tommy, as every Friday currently, he works on a project by her school, so he offers to take her to dinner on Thursdays and then do the school run every Friday morning before work. Joel’s only evening with no responsibilities.

‘Let’s go, angel’ he held out his hand to help you up, before slinging you over his shoulder and dropping you down on the bed. He ran back to his truck to get his ‘emergency’ overnight bag. With the travel he does for work, he never knows when he’ll have to set up shop at some motel for a couple of hours for a break. Just like it was meant to be.

He showered, turned of the lights and checked the door was locked, before getting you both some water, and sliding in the sheets next to you, forearm over your chest, and body pressed against yours.

‘This is the start of my forever’ you both thought.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[steddio]

steddie vegas au part 2

part 1

--

Eddie throws open the delightfully ridiculous double doors separating his hotel suite’s foyer from the main living area. “Honey, I’m home!” he hollers, cackling when he hears Chrissy scream. 

She storms out of her bedroom, scowling at him. “Jesus, Eddie you scared me! I thought you were napping, where did you go?” He can’t help but feel a little guilty at that, hearing the worry underneath her anger. As his manager, and his best friend, worrying is kind of her job. And Eddie doesn’t exactly make it easy. He grabs her by the waist, spins her about the room, ignoring her protests until they turn into laughter.

“I was just down in the lobby,” he tells her a little sheepishly. “I wanted to stretch my legs, look around our new digs.” He can see her eyebrows raise, and adds, “And no, before you say anything, I did not go near the bar.” 

Before Chrissy can feel guilty about her unspoken assumption, he barrels on, “the concierge gave me this list of AA meetings.” He brandishes the paper at her proudly.

“Is this one tonight,” she asks, smiling softly at him. “The highlighted one?”

He grins. “Yep. Steve highlighted it for me.”

“Steve?” Chrissy looks confused. “Oh! Is that the hot concierge you were staring at when we checked in? Is that why you went down to the lobby alone? Jesus, Eddie, you can’t hit on the hotel staff while they’re working.”  

He grabs the paper back from her. “I didn’t!” At her raised eyebrows he concedes, “Okay, I did flirt a little. But only a little! He was really sweet though, he offered to walk me to the meeting.” 

Chrissy just rolls her eyes and hands him the paper. He takes his time folding it, putting it in the back pocket of his jeans, feeling her eyes on him. Eddie knows what her weighted gaze means. She looks at him like she’s constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s why they’re in Vegas. Because that shoe did drop, two months ago. But he’s turning over a new leaf. This is going to be his year! 

He must have gotten lost in thought because he startles when Chrissy touches his arm. “I’m glad you’re going to meetings again, Didi,” she tells him. The old nickname tugs at his heart, and he’s so overwhelmingly grateful for her. He pulls her into a hug, burying his face in her hair. 

“Me, too,” he tells her. They stand like that for a long moment before she pulls away, wiping at her eyes. “Enough of that mushy stuff,” she says brusquely. “We’re scheduled for a venue tour at 5:30 and then I want to try that noodle place.”

–

The venue is… a venue. Eddie can’t complain, because it’s a good gig, even if a residency at Caesars Palace isn’t exactly metal. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s looking forward to the stability. To having a routine. Performing on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Meeting with his therapist Sharon on the days in between. Attending daily AA meetings. Hanging out with Chrissy and playing D&D with the guys. Catching up on all the movies and TV he missed over years of non-stop touring. Being on the road lost its appeal after their last tour and the fallout, his wanderlust having transformed into a sort of homesickness, sunk deep into his ribs.

He steals one of Chrissy’s dumplings, and shovels it whole in his mouth, shrugging when she glares at him. The food is delicious, a major point in Vegas’s favor. But he can barely enjoy it. His heart is thrumming in anticipation for tonight. Not for the meeting; once you’ve been to one you’ve been to them all, and Eddie has been a regular fixture at AA for the last decade. But to see Steve again. 

Eddie knows it’s reckless of him to succumb to that part of himself that just won’t leave things alone. That has to push and push and push to see who or what will break first. But he wants to get inside Steve’s skin, to further crack that professional facade and see what’s underneath. The glimpses he’d gotten–when Steve was on the phone, and when he’d blushed oh so prettily at just the slightest bit of flirting–left him intrigued, edging what he started as harmless flirting into the possibility for something… more. Something real. Something different from nameless groupies and wannabe-influencers. 

Steve hadn’t even recognized him! Eddie can’t remember the last time someone had asked him his name. And sure, he knows it’s bad form to flirt with people at work, but he technically works at the hotel too. Hell, he needs something to occupy his time for the next six months or he’s going to go stir crazy. And he’s a sucker for All-American-looking men who he could absolutely ruin. Or let ruin him, he’s flexible.

He and Chrissy wrap up their meal in the comfortable silence of old friends. Eddie is beyond grateful for this modicum of domesticity within his very non-traditional lifestyle. He flags the waiter down for the bill, signing it to his room with a flourish. Gets up and takes Chrissy’s hand, kissing the back of it with a bow and a wink, and saunters back to the lobby. 

–

Steve is hiding behind the concierge desk, crouched down near the floor so nobody can see him almost losing it over pictures of his baby girl all grown up and going to homecoming. Nancy had sent him the photos, most of which depict a disgruntled Max and an overjoyed Lucas, but there’s one that’s blurry and candid that catches Max looking over her shoulder as she follows Lucas out the front door, hand raised in a wave, grinning on the cusp of laughter. It sends a pang through Steve’s heart, equal parts fondness and regret that he’s so far away. He knows it’s better this way, that he needed to leave Indiana and its small-mindedness, the ugly rumors that just wouldn’t stop circulating. But he misses her. Misses them both.

He’s startled back into reality by the godforsaken bell on his desk, which someone is pummeling like an Xbox controller. He smooths his hair back and does his best to stand gracefully and not at all like someone who was hiding on the floor. 

“Hello, how can I - oh. It’s you.” Mr. Munson, no, Eddie, is leaning on the counter twirling a strand of hair in his fingers looking absolutely delighted to have caught Steve off guard. 

Steve recovers quickly. “Hello, sir, are you ready to go?” His stomach swoops at that, and he tries to ignore it. Calling men sir is perfectly innocuous, it’s his job. 

Eddie’s grin turns almost predatory. “Sure thing, Steve-o. Lead the way.”

Steve grabs his keys and pulls his jacket on, puts the “Be right back” sign on the concierge desk, and steps out next to Eddie. They walk together to the front entrance, Steve pausing to fist bump Argyle the doorman, who not-so-subtly waggles his eyebrows at Steve and Eddie together. Steve pointedly glances at the retreating figure of the bellhop Jonathan and Steve knows he’s won this silent battle of wills as Argyle blushes and nods. He gives him a thumbs up and then steps out into the brisk evening air. 

Leaving the air-conditioned and perfumed artificiality of the casino lobby is Steve’s favorite part of the day. The Las Vegas Strip may be smoggy and congested and honestly kind of gross, but outside is always better than inside in Steve’s opinion. He takes a deep breath before walking down the sidewalk. It takes a moment before he realizes that Eddie is not, in fact, walking beside him, but has stopped several paces back and is staring, brow furrowed, at a huge billboard outside the casino.

Steve walks back toward him until he can see what has Eddie looking so disgruntled. There, filling up almost the entire billboard, is an enormous photo of Eddie. Wearing eyeliner and leather and gripping a microphone with ringed fingers, eyes half-lidded and mouth parted. He looks larger than life, dripping sex appeal. Above him in bold letters reads, “Corroded Coffin, with Eddie Munson, October 1 - April 30, Caesars Palace.” 

Steve feels his jaw drop. “Holy shit. Is that you?”

Eddie looks almost sad for a moment, before he runs a hand through his hair and puts on his signature smirk. “Sure is, sugar. Your resident musical guest for the next six months, at your service.” He accompanies this last part with a mocking bow. 

Steve does what he always does when he’s out of his element: falls back into professionalism. “My deepest apologies, Mr. Munson, I should have recognized you earlier.” He feels doubly awkward now for his over-familiarity in offering to walk Eddie to the AA meeting. Surely a rockstar doesn’t need some dorky dad hovering over him all evening.

Eddie frowns at the formality. “Please, it’s just Eddie.” Strangely serious, he adds, “shall we continue? I don’t want to be late.” He strides away, and Steve has no choice but to hurry after him.

Once he catches up, Steve feels somewhat chastised for his moment of panic. After all, if Eddie is in residency through April, they might end up seeing a lot of each other, and it’s in both of their best interests to be on good terms. 

“So, welcome to Vegas, then,” Steve offers with a small smile, which Eddie returns, mood immediately lifting. 

“Thanks, man. I mean, I’ve been here before, what self-respecting musician hasn’t, but this is the first time I’ll be playing in one place for so long. It was Chrissy’s idea, Chrissy’s my manager, but I think she was onto something because this hotel is super cool and I’ve heard Vegas has a good vibe, and honestly I’m kind of excited to not be on tour for a while, and oh fuck. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Steve is torn between genuine interest and amusement. He feels like he could listen to Eddie talk for hours, watching him gesture wildly, face expressive. 

“Vegas does have a good vibe,” Steve admits. “If you can get past the whole Vegas-ness of it.” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Vegas-ness?”

Steve tries to explain. “Well, when most people think of Vegas they think of the strip. But there’s a lot more here. There’s great food, an arts scene, and really great hiking and mountain biking.”

Eddie’s nose scrunches at hiking. “I knew you’d be the outdoorsy type, Steve-o, with shoulders like that.” 

Steve tries and fails not to blush, instead motioning that they should turn at the end of the block. They walk a few more blocks in silence before Eddie reaches out and grabs his arm. Steve turns to him, and waits patiently while Eddie seems to struggle for words.

“Thank you,” he says softly. “For walking with me. But, I’d appreciate it if, well…” He trails off.

Steve does his best to reassure him. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me, sir. Concierge, remember? We value our guests’ privacy.” This seems to land wrong, and Steve can’t quite figure out what he said, but Eddie nods quickly, and keeps walking. 

They make it to the church and pause on the sidewalk for a moment. Steve breaks the silence first. “Will you be able to find your way back?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “I think I’ll manage.” Steve wants so badly to reach out and touch Eddie’s arm, to tell him that he would keep Eddie’s secret even if it wasn’t his job, that he feels honored by the trust, but he holds back, unsure of whether that would make the new awkwardness between them better or worse. 

Eddie salutes him with a wink and disappears into the church. Steve walks back to Caesars slowly, pondering everything he’s learned. He feels like he’s been put through the tumble dryer, thrown right and left and up and down by Eddie’s mercurial moods. He tries to shake it off, to finish his shift, but as he drives home after work he finds himself replaying their conversations, and as he lays in bed trying to fall asleep, he can’t stop thinking about Eddie calling him sugar. 

–

The AA meeting runs like any other. Eddie is distracted, but he participates when it’s his turn, drinks the shitty coffee, shakes the hand of a few guys who recognize him. He makes his way back to the hotel where Chrissy is waiting up for him, curled in an armchair reading. 

“How did it go?” she asks. And he knows she’s not just asking him about the meeting, but about all of it. Being in a new place, his flirting with Steve.

“I saw the billboard,” he tells her. “So did Steve.”

“Eddie, we talked about this, the casino is in charge of marketing. What did you expect?” 

He can tell she’s exasperated, but he’s spiraling slightly. “I just–. He didn’t recognize me, Chrissy! Do you know how rare that is? He asked me what my name was.” Chrissy already has that patented sympathetic look on her face, but he keeps going. “For a grand total of four hours, I was just another hotel guest. I was Eddie, even. But now I’m back to Mr. Munson, to sir,” he sneers, “and not even in the fun way!” 

Chrissy is biting back a smile, but she gets up and wraps him in a hug. “You’re still Eddie,” she hushes. “Give it time to settle, people are always a little starstruck at first. Plus this is what happens when you flirt with people at work. They’re, you know, working.”

Eddie pulls away and snaps his fingers. “That’s it!” He’s already formulating a plan. A campaign, if you will. “I just have to change his mindset. Get him to think of me as a coworker and not a guest.” 

Chrissy opens her mouth as if to respond, but Eddie puts his index finger over her lips to shush her. “It will work,” he grins. “This will be fun. Chrissy, you saw how cute he is! Let me have this.” 

And suddenly it’s serious between them. “I think I need this.” 

She grabs his wrist gently, pulls his hand away from her mouth and pats the back of it, an unspoken agreement. God, he really needs this.

--

continue to part 3.

read on ao3.

--

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[oakandgumtrees]

The Lady in the Library, Part 1

It was a dreary November Thursday that the call came in. I was the only one in the office at the time, since the others were out sick or doing inspections, so I was the one who answered the phone.

“Berkshire Library Effect Professionals, how can I help you?”

At first, I assumed it was another fucking bookshop owner trying to organise their annual certification - it seemed like that was all I’d been doing for a month and a half. (When the phone rang, I’d been writing up the assessment of a shop with twelve shelf metres per square metre. Twelve.) So maybe I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have been.

I was opening up a booking form for an estate assessment when the words “twenty thousand” lodged in my brain. 

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

The fancy lawyer on the other end did not seem impressed. “The late Mr Stockton’s collection contains an estimated twenty thousand volumes,” he repeated primly. “It has been built up by several generations of Stocktons, in the library at their family home.”

Oh. 

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

-----

John and I went out that same afternoon to do a preliminary assessment. It was already four when we left, but the solicitor hadn’t cared about paying for overtime, and had cared about getting things started quickly, so we loaded up our kits and set out for Alderford Manor.

John had been doing this job for nearly forty years, and had gone through cynicism and out the other side. It didn’t surprise him that we were going to a country house where the library was probably going to have spatial, temporal, and eccentric distortions. He’d seen it all before.

I, on the other hand, had been a library effect professional for about eight years, and was at the peak of my cynicism. “Twenty thousand, he said, and it’s never been assessed!”

“Mind the tractor.”

I slowed down so the aforesaid tractor could squeeze between us and the hedge. “Bloody self-important, over-confident bastards,” I muttered. “It’s probably all crammed in there, too. Private owners never give a shit about book density.” Not that density would make much of a difference with that many books. Mild library effects started kicking in around a thousand books per room, usually. Twenty thousand almost guaranteed trouble, especially with pre-Edwardian architecture.

“Does that mean you want to be site manager while I do the walkthrough?” John teased. “Next left now.”

If I hadn’t been driving, I’d have glared at him. (Which he definitely knew.) “Of course I want to do the walkthrough!” I snapped. Pacing out large libraries was the riskiest part of our job, but it was also the most exciting, and the chance didn’t come around every day. Who knew what we’d find? “...I just want to be able to bitch about stupid clients when we’re out of earshot.”

He smirked at me. 

I checked the mirrors and pretended I couldn’t see him.

-----

Alderford Manor was the sort of eighteenth century country house that was scattered all over England, and like many of them, it was starting to look a little shabby. Nothing drastic, but the curtains were a little worn, the upholstery faded, and I could tell whatever staff worked here, they were falling behind with the dusting and polishing. In short, exactly what you’d expect from a house that was going to be sold because it was too much trouble to whatever distant relative had inherited it. 

Its library was anything but ordinary.

Long aisles of shelving stretched from the entrance into shadow, dividing a seemingly cavernous room into narrow passages. There were no windows to relieve the gloom, and the inbuilt lights illuminated little but shadows and the occasional gilded label. Every vertical surface was packed with books, some as old as the house, some purchased in the last few decades. 

I exchanged looks with John, and began to pack my vest and kit bag.

Phone. Spare phone battery. Notebook. Pencils. Chalk. Voice recorder. Film camera. Mechanical stopwatch. Digital stopwatch. Compass. Plumbline. Light meter. Altimeter. Water. Emergency food rations. First aid kit. Emergency blanket. Radio. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t need most of it. If I was unlucky, it might not be enough.

Anchor rope hooked to my belt, radio around my neck, and surveyor’s wheel in hand, I ventured into the library. “From the door, ninety degrees left, following the wall,” I reported quietly. My footsteps were nearly silent on the rug, and the space had the deadened atmosphere of noise cancellation. Who knew, if there had been bells like a monastic library, if I would have even heard them?

Deeper and deeper I followed the wall, calling out measurements to John as I went. His voice was steady on the other end, if a little crackly, anchoring me as much as the rope did.

And then I turned a corner, and saw a silhouette that definitely shouldn’t have been there.

“John?” I asked carefully. “Didn’t Mrs Jones say everyone was accounted for?”

The figure in the shadows stood, and moved towards the light. “Good afternoon,” she said warily - definitely a woman’s voice, low and refined. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.”

She stepped into the light, revealing an outfit straight out of an Austen novel. 

“N-No,” I stammered, dipping into an utterly mangled half-curtesy out of some bizarre instinct that the gesture would help. “I don’t imagine you have.”

Part 2

[farmerbebop]

It seems like an entire lifetime has passed since I last posted. I was back in my hometown. And here are some updates.

1. The only one who was still there, had time and was interested in hanging out with me is mostly just my dad. (You shouldn’t be so surprised to find out you are not so popular in real life if you have been blorbo posting to an audience of ten people on tumblr dot com). I spent most of the time at home listening to him talking about everything and eating with him. That’s something he can’t expect from my little sister and brother. They would rather go out to eat foreign food and don’t like to listen to him “moralising”.

I was born in a different time. When I was a baby, dad made chicken broth for me out of chicken feet because he couldn’t afford any meat. When he needed pork for my porridge he would buy bones but sweet talk the butcher lady so she left some more meat on the bones. Then he would take me out drinking with him after kindergarten (don’t worry it’s not what you think). I was the only kid among a bunch of drunken men so I was treated like a princess by the waitresses. They would bring me the best food they could find every time my dad brought me in. That’s how I got to eat chicken drumsticks for free.

Even if I had all the money in the world, no waitress would treat me better than when I was just a poor man’s daughter.

2. They have put an automatic door at the gate of the Temple of Literature. You have to scan the ticket to get through it. Buy some dried plums at the shop and you scan their QR code to pay with your phone. Ask a 15-year-old where they hang out with their friends in their free time and the first answer is “shopping mall”.

I asked my stepmom about a new piece of wall decor at home and she said it’s some Japanese secondhand stuff. “Importing thrown-away stuffs from Japan is a business now. We are like their dumpster”, she said. My cousin’s daughter speaks better English than me, she is four year old.

They recently built a big museum for military history. It’s not completed yet and the entry is still free. When I was there with my friend on a Thursday morning, it was packed with people. Everyone was taking selfie or having photo taken as if they didn’t just see thousands years of wars, after which their country is becoming more and more like its enemies.

3. My little sister used to say she would go to the fine arts museum with me when I’m home. But ever since she got into the most famous “elite” high school in Vietnam, she has been “working” day and night for the six clubs that she is in. Every time I asked what she was doing she was “working on her deadlines”. She has meetings, interviews, reviews, feedbacks. She knows 600 fellow club members. She has to write posts, design posters, organise events. Her ambition is to get promoted to a “higher position”. I only got to see her at dinner. And she just got into high school a few months ago.

She showed me the instagram page of the robotics club at her school. They have photoshoots for their members as if they were actors. And my blorbo looked in most studio photos like he just came back from a parent-teacher meeting.

4. My little brother is still not showing much interest in studying. But he still wants “an easy job with a high salary” and doesn’t show any interest in “hard work” either. My dad has tried a lot of things and still can’t get his son to turn over a new leaf. “The family method” wouldn’t work on my brother, he said. He means the way his uncle “fixed” him back in his youth.

Back then, dad didn’t learn anything at school. One day after he failed the university entrance exam, his uncle came to his house. He was drunk and he told my dad: “Look at your parents! They gave you everything and you are a good-for-nothing! How can people as talented as your parents have such a useless son as you?! You don’t deserve to bear our last name!” Then he vomited everything he has just eaten and made my dad eat that.

My dad, as proud as he was, had to eat the vomit and started studying after that.

The education system has ruined this new generation, he said. They learn to get good grades and they give out good grades when it fits them. All the politicians telling them to learn hard today will be arrested for corruption the next day. There are as many university graduates as puppies, just as clueless and just as helpless. If your parents are not rich, are not high-ranking officials or don’t have any “connections” then you are on your own.

“Whoever has land to sell nowadays is rich”, he said. And the famine drove my great grandparents out of their hometown in 1945 so we don’t have any land, he also said.

5. My aunt called me a rice ball because I have gained weight. Too much blorbo posting, I guess. Everyone tells me I need to exercise more. My exercise is now my new hiatus and I hope they don’t mean the same thing.

[popcornforone]

MARCH

From the Marcus Pike Fan Fic Diary

Masterlist

February

How are we already in March? Must be time for another diary entry from our writer about her exploits with Marcus.

Synopsis:- Marcus is working away on a case & you just want to chat to him on a Saturday night.

Word count:-1900

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Phone sex,masturbating, innuendo, talk of piv & oral, sexual video, swearing, drinking, pining. remember this is a diary so from the readers point of view.

Thanks as always for the read peoples. All feedback is always welcome. I hope you enjoy.

I hate it when Marcus is away. It not that I don’t like doing my own thing, but I miss the cuddles. I love that I can watch what I want, can eat what I like at a time that’s good for me & not have to worry if he’s going to randomly message going he needs dinner, or planning something & then him last minute saying actually. But I miss his little smile. I miss little suggestive winks. I miss the way he makes me cum. I miss the taste of him spilling down my throat. I just am missing him so bad.

I know it’s only 10 days & it’s important for his job & career but it’s just a huge hole in the bed next to me. I can starfish all I want, but I’d much prefer to be sinking into the mattress with my feet on his shoulders as he asks me if I can take more. Don’t tell Marcus this, I mean you’re a diary so you won’t, but I use his pillow to sleep on when he’s not here. I always make sure the bedding is fresh for when he is back but no I want to smell my man. I have needs & his scent helps me with some of them.

It’s not like we don’t see each other though. We face time & text & send photos to each other, but he’s often tired & a little grumpy. Works stressful when he’s home let alone working on something else where.

I knew he had Sunday off last week so I asked him to have a chill Saturday night & get ready for a phone call. I wanted his soothing voice to send me asleep. But I also wanted to see if he was up for something.

First call he doesn’t answer at 10pm. Maybe he had already fallen asleep. But the second call he answers.

“Hey sorry was in the middle of cleaning my teeth baby”

“I hope you didn’t swallow”

“No swallowing toothpaste isn’t that good for you” I am glad it’s not face time. I rolled my eyes. I wanted to see if things could get spicy. But clearly he was being practical. Yep that was my man there, not taking a hint unless it’s bleeding obvious to him.

“How was today?”

“Good, we think we might be on the red eye on Tuesday if we’re lucky. Latest is still Thursday night which is meant to happen” I can hear a tap turn off in the back ground & the bathroom light button click. I know he’s got ready for bed. I am already in bed. I need to clean my own teeth once the call is over but it won’t take me long. I’ve got a glass of wine on the bed side table which I’m sipping. I’m also in just my dressing gown, & I know I have something to pleasure myself with after hearing my man’s delicious voice.

“What about you beautiful, what did you do today?”

“Saw my mum took her shopping, she wanted a new handbag, she treated me to lunch & then I decided to start sorting out junk in the study”

“junk?”

“Yes junk” I giggle”you know all the stuff we said we’d sort out when we moved i together nearly 18 months ago that we didn’t need or were duplicates”

“Please tell…”

“Don’t worry don’t worry” I hear the panic in his voice “I didn’t touch the comics or anything that wasn’t mine, that’s still for you to sort”

“Oooh thank god…” I hear a sigh of relief down the phone & hear him sit on the bed “because”

We then say in unison “some of those comics are limited print”

“I know Marcus I know, you need to have them valued for insurance purposes” we talk about this every now & then. I have a couple of original art pieces that I got insured last year, after they had just sat in a corner & told Marcus he could do his comics & collectibles at the same time but he said he’d need to go to a specialist. He’s never been.

“So what are you going to do on your day off?” I ask as I sip more wine.

“I want to go to that new art exhibition that’s here…” Marcus has always loved weird art & he knows I appreciate it but not to his tastes it’s a bit to gloomy what he likes, not what you should put up in the house, not that we could even afford it. I let him talk about a few other things too.

“Well on Sunday im going to write in my journal & then I’m going to get on with building those Lego flowers you got me for Christmas, I can’t kill them can I” he giggles down the phone at me.

“Oooh no you can’t murder those. Thank god. I recon you could try tho”

“Would you have to investigate & come home if I did?”

“100%”

“Then I’ll go commit some crime” we both laugh & then sigh. The silence between us on the phone for a few seconds is just perfect. Hearing him breathe is a joy.

“Marcus…”

“Yes baby” I smirk as his voice seems deeper for some reason. I’m going to try something.

“What are you wearing?” I lick my lips as I say it.

“My jammies… you know the blue & black striped ones…I’ve also…” he then goes on to talk about if it’s okay to wear socks in bed or not as his feet feel cold. I’m a little bit gutted. I know he takes things literally but I wanted more or maybe something sexy. Also Marcus only wear his Jammies when he’s away incase he’s woken up at 3am to go look at something. He’s shy at times & doesn’t want any work colleagues to walk in on him hanging out, or with his naked arse in the air. What a peach they would see. I sigh a little which he picks up on.

“Was that the wrong answer?”

“No I just… I wanted something more adventurous.” I’m always honest with Marcus.

“Okay so then what are you wearing baby”

“Well…”I then untie my robe “say the words baby & I’ll start to moan for your listening pleasure”

“Why are you hurt?”

“Marcus!”

“What”

“Is your line tapped?”

“No”

“Well I’m just taking my robe off & am going to enjoy myself in bed” I slip the robe off. “Imagine if we were face timing baby” I whisper “you wouldn’t be seeing my face”

“Well erm…” I can tell he’s flustered & trying to work out how to say some spicy stuff. “Ermmmm… I”

“It really is a good thing we aren’t looking at each other” I smile trying to reassure him that it’s okay if he doesn’t want to.

“No I… I’m just having a moment” the phone line falls silent for a second before Marcus speaks. “Does the bed still smell of me”

“Yea baby”

“Then sleep on that side when you have fun later, I want my side to be a little damp” he’s getting into it even if shyly.

“Do you think of me?”

“Yes baby” he’s dropped his voice it’s getting sexier.

“In the shower?”

“Why do you think I’m always so clean when I come back from a job?”

“It’s not as good as me though…”

“Oooh fuck no!” Is his abrupt response “I might moan & fist harder but it’s not like your bending over in the shower is it”

“I always like to wash your chest, lather you up, caress those broad shoulders…”

“& then drop to your knees like the naughty little slut you are”

“I…” I was not expecting Marcus to get into this so quickly. All it had taken was a few back & forth & he was now calling me a slut down the phone. “Do you like me on my knees?”

“I like you in any position, begging for me”

“The way you face fuck me…”

“…oooh when I can’t tell if it’s spit or my cum or shower water…”

“Getting clean is always such a dirty task”

“Oooh baby” I hear him moan.

“Yes baby, my fingers in my cunt, my lips at your base, in your pubes, steam building up in a hot shower, you gripping my chin thrusting away”

“Down your throat, good thing you had your tonsils taken out, they’d be so swollen” as this conversation goes on, I’ve starting pleasuring my clit, I’ve not used my vibrator yet I think I will need that when the call ends.

“Marcus, tell me I’m a good girl”

“No…” he’s panting”you so naughty, good girls wouldn’t be masturbating on the phone”

“& what does that make you…?” I gasp, arousal is seeping.

“A very bad boy, a bad boy who wants to get on the next flight & wishing his penis was satisfying you instead.”

We moan down the phone at each other getting off to each others seduction.

“I need your mouth”

“So do I”

“69?”

“Oooh baby i’ll get on a plane to you”

“Naked?”

“If it meant quicker pleasure yes”

Eventually we both finish out sexual discussion. For a man who was shy to start with Marcus got into it. He screamed my name as he obviously climaxed & spilled into his hand.

“I think I need a shower” he says breathily “I’ve made a right mess”

“Hmmm” I reply back, I’m contemplating do I clean my teeth now or do I hang up & use the vibrator. “I’m so glad you got into that Marcus”

“I am too, we should try that again sometime”

“Maybe next time we do face time in”

“& me see your pussy gushing without me being able to taste it?” He scoffs “that’s not playing fair.”

“Well finish this case quickly & you can come home for all the shower sex in the world.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that sexy” I know the face he’s pulling even without seeing it it’s a soft but sexy smirk.

“I’m gonna go clean my teeth & actually go to bed now Marcus” I say “thank you for everything baby”

“For once I’m gonna ask you to spit not swallow, it’s not my cum that will be foaming at your lips” I gasp. Marcus finally got my line from earlier.

“I only swallow what’s good for me”

“Oooh you’re so good being bad”

“Night Marcus I love you”

“Not as much as I love you”

Yea that was a fabulous time on the phone to my Marcus. Someone so shy then got so into being so naughty. & I think I unlocked a sexual beast, because once my teeth were clean there was a text on my phone. An encrypted video. With a message underneath.

“Because your vibrator won’t be enough” & the video in question was Marcus handling his throbbing penis, angry & wanting to be buried somewhere soft & warm. It gets me off on both Saturday night & Sunday morning.

April

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Shackled (Chapter 5)

Dark! Rafe Cameron x Pogue! Reader

Warning: There are some intense, dubiously consenting and nonconsensual sexual themes in this series, MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. MINORS DNI.

Summary: You hate Outer Banks with a passion and are working hard to get out despite all the obstacles in your way. Rafe himself eventually becomes one of those obstacles after a night of low impulse control. Will you be able to overcome him or with you have no choice but to submit.

Slow Burn

Series Masterlist

Two months

That’s how long you had been adhering to your new schedule, which now included Rafe. 

When you arrived from the mainland, you went to Barry to collect your inventory and rested for a bit when you got home. 

Days were spent cleaning the house and making much-needed repairs courtesy of your father. Restocking food and supplies, again due to your father's negligence and chaotic behavior. Washing any and all fabrics in the house before having them ironed and folded in their designated areas. 

It felt like these errands and chores shouldn’t take long, but your father's destructive tendencies and residing deep into the cut without a vehicle made it very difficult. 

Every Thursday evening, without fail, Rafe shows up to pick you up from your home, blows your back out like a man starved, and drops you off at the ferry the morning after.

With Rafe requiring your attention, you needed everything to be done in such a short window of time that you couldn’t sleep two days out of the week. 

However, when you felt the need to complain, you remembered that you wouldn’t need to do this for much longer.

You only had about 16k left to raise before you said goodbye to Outerbanks for good. 

That didn’t meet you couldn’t dread restarting the week. 

When you get off the ferry and grab your luggage, walking out to the main road, imagine your surprise when you spot a familiar truck with a familiar face.

Rafe. 

You pretended not to see him and continued your journey to the bus stop. You and he had not discussed the status of your interactions outside more intimate settings, so you assumed it was to be kept on the low.

You weren’t complaining, despite your fronted devil-may-care attitude about the situation, you didn’t want Mary and Ether to know that you and Rafe were fucking.

You would repeat to yourself that you can’t betray friends you don’t consider friends. But nowadays you aren’t so sure. 

You sit by the stop and pull out your phone, sending Barry a message that you were on your way and to give you about an hour and a half. You pull up a random game, but before starting it, you hear a loud beep, and your attention is taken away from your phone towards the offending noise.

Who else do you see? But Rafe is across the street, staring at you.

“Get in, loser,” he calls playfully, a smirk adorning his face.

You’re positive it wouldn’t be a good idea to follow his instructions, so you stay where you are, unsure what to do about the situation. 

You see Rafe sigh deeply before hopping out of the truck and walking in your direction.

As he stops in front of you, he bends over to grab the handle of your bag; and before he can turn away with it, you grab it, stopping him from going any further. 

“What?” he asks 

“What are you doing here?” you retort 

“I thought it would be gentlemanly of me to pick you up from the ferry.” he places his free hand on his hip as if the answer were obvious. 

You give him a look cueing your disbelief.

“Alright, you caught me. I hoped we could hang out this week since your weekends are always booked.” 

Your look of disbelief carries on. 

“I mean it. I want to get to know the person I’m perpetually sticking my dick inside and vice versa.”

“I can’t,  I have things to do and -” you start, but he cuts you off, raising his hand.

“Yea, yea, I get it, your errands and chores,” annoyance lacing his tone.

This wasn’t the first time you and Rafe had this conversation, so you weren’t sure why he didn’t expect you to reject him this time. 

“That’s why I’m going to help you with your little to-do list,” he reveals.

You’re taken aback by his confrssion.

“Why?” you ask

“Are you gonna make me say it?” a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

You tilt your head in confusion.

“I’m horny,” he says, voice deadpanned and a serious expression plastered on his face.

“Oh,” you say 

“Right,” he grabs your hand and pulls you toward his truck. 

“I have to visit Barry first and go home to clean the house.”

“Done and Done, now get in the truck” he places your bag on the floor of the passenger seat once he’s settled. 

You walk around to the other side, hop into your designated seat, and wonder if it was a good idea to let Rafe push the boundaries like this, but the thoughts vanish once you realize how much easier it would be to get your chores and errands done for the day. 

Maybe you’re just overthinking it. 

*****

When Rafe took you to collect your supply, the shock on Barry’s face from seeing you and Rafe together was exactly as you expected. 

Once he overcame his surprise, your banter continued, except you were short again. 

“Barry?”

“Look, sweetheart, this wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last, but I always come through for you, right?” 

You nod 

“You have to understand my reluctance, Barry. Put yourself in my shoes. Understand the position I’m being placed in right now,” you explain. 

“I get it, sweetheart, I do, but I’m tight right now,”

“I’ll cover you.” 

You turn your head to Rafe, who has no dog in this fight, a tense look on his face as his jaw clenches.

“What?” both you and Barry say simultaneously.

“I’ll cover for you, Barry, but whatever she sells now is what she gives you next week, and you will get her the full amount.”

“Look at that, country club steppin’ up, alright, you got my word,” Barry says 

You don’t say anything as shock strangles your vocal cords. You give Barry an affectionate hug, and walk back to the truck with Rafe.

Rafe pulls out his wallet and hands you the amount you missed with Barry being short, plus more. 

You don’t touch it. 

“Why did you do that?” you asked 

“Because I’m horny and we still have to stop by your dad’s.”

You grab the money and placed it in your bag. It didn’t matter to you, this only meant that Barry owed Rafe, and you had nothing to do with it.

[pretentiousliterata]

A Letter From Me to You

~Closer to the end, lessons yet to learn…~

I’m still amazed at the fact we’ve reached the end of September… is it only me or this year is passing by so fast? Naturally, the anxiety to get things done ASAP hits and it’s overwhelming. Learning to slow down it’s the actual challenge.

Hello there, your friendly neighbor Ali here. Welcome to my “newsletter” where I share my shenanigans as I try to get back on track to polish the third draft of my current work in progress: a little dark fantasy novel I have temporarily named “On the Night Transcending the Raging Light”. And well, some other stuff… we keep it real here, so, don’t get surprised if you don’t read super positive stuff (but we keep hopes up, so it’s not all negative…)

I would love to say badly I have been writing non-stop and making my way smoothly through the third draft, but then I would be lying. And no, it’s not like I’ve been slacking (just like I did with this month’s Unite and Fight, sorry fellow crew members!), but one of the things I’ve come to accept is life keeps throwing stones and while it’s not funny, it’s you and you alone who decides if that will stop you from going where you want to go. And while times can be slow, lessons keep coming and learning never ends, even if it’s not as sweet or fulfilling as we would like to.

While the writing has been going slowly, after a mind-opening conversation, I got the courage to start sharing my work out there and ask for feedback beyond the lovely friends who always read my stories before they go out there. In exchange, I have read stories of amazing upcoming writers and enjoying seeing how others are also creating their worlds and how we’re all in this journey, both amazed and scared of what’s ahead. Some of the feedback I got was lovely, I’m really thankful because it boosted my confidence in this project. Some of the feedback was harsh, and I don’t mean it in a bad way, it was actually eye opening. Again, so much to learn even when you think you know most everything.

This month I also received my fourth rejection of the year, the first one for my current work in progress. I submitted “On the Night…” to a literary contest and it didn’t make the cut. I won’t lie, it hits the ego. However, when I think about it, the submission was the second draft (it was a while ago) and the story has significantly changed since then. I’m coming closer to the story I wanted to narrate and show and while it destroyed a bit the confidence (especially because the announcement was on a thursday, the day I save for the writing session Taika Editorial hosts, no matter what happens, and since I started the book, it became a ritual), the fire is still alive and it makes me truly happy this project is not giving up at all —even the universe seems to favor this as it keeps sending a very specific sign (I won’t say what it is) whenever I think “it’s over”. I’m one to run away when things go south or if they don’t work, a heavy reason why I wasn’t able to finish a single novel despite me having the dream of doing so. To keep going forward with it makes me hopeful, not for the sake of fame or having a big name, but because it shows I’m changing too.

Change is one of the biggest fears I face constantly, and while I haven’t let go of some bad habits, as they return when the mood is low, I can see how I’m heading towards the true change, one which I hope will give me a reason to fight and cling to life to enjoy the journey and not only to move forward because existing is something I’m forced to do.

I can’t say September has been all good changes and good vibes. There have been situations which opened some wounds I believed were closed but they’re just temporarily healed for the sake of being forgotten and not addressing the issues. I won’t get into deep detail about this, but as one of my favorite songs of all time says, “I’m sick and tired of being afraid, if I cry any more then my tears will wash me away”. I don’t want to keep crying about what could have been or try to fix what’s undeniably broken, it’s not worth the try anymore.

One of the things I’m thankful about writing is how it becomes my voice when I’m unable to speak my heart. These past days I’ve shared some “poems” (I wouldn’t call them exactly that, yours truly is barely well versed in fiction, poetry is still far away from reach), the train of thoughts of rage and despair that come in those moments when I don’t want to cry and just simply let words express how I feel. Cathartic writing has always been helpful to me. Not that I want to brag about it, but funnily enough, last year I got an award for that… so, I guess writing my emotions as they come is not that bad hehe…

So, at the end of September, as we’re ready to enter the last three months of the year of the unexpected, all I can say is don’t let the stepping stones in the way stop you to go where you want to. The biggest one is us and us alone and while you can count on amazing friends or strangers on the internet to hear you, the only one who can decide to move forward is you. Keep writing, keep creating, keep taking care of you. I’m not the best at following my own advice, but hey, slowly but steadily, lessons are never ending…

Let’s see what’s in store for October. Luckily, if things go as the beginning of the month, I will be able to finish with the rewritings for this third draft and full speed ahead to edit and change the storylines that will be affected with the current changes that have come across. And, hopefully, I also have the courage to finally share something more than just the long temporary name of this project with all. The screenwriter/director Ali season is also coming, so I’m worried about how to balance these things, but let’s take one step at a time…

Until next time, folks! x

P.S: Given last month I showed the song that represented my August, here’s a little top three of songs for September in no particular order:

[woah-were-halfway-there]

Yes write that blurb!!!🥹😍😍

Hehehe can do. (Also i made this gif so don’t come at me for not crediting)

Word Count: 1.1k

“Oh, wait,” Carson pondered for a second as she stood in the middle of the living room, one hand on her hip, the other touching her face as she glanced around in thought. “Maybe the tree will look better over there.”

“Carse, I’ve moved this box three times. Please make up your mind, babe.” Auston groaned as he stood up straight and looked over at his wife.

It was December 1st, just a regular Thursday to everyone else and an off day for Auston, but to Carson, it was so much more important than that. Why? Because it was the day, the Matthews family was decorating for Christmas.

Since moving out of the condo and into their new house in Toronto, Carson was overwhelmed and excited by the space she had to decorate. To make it all more exciting, it was also Mia’s first holiday season which had Carson wanting to make it even more special.

However, she didn’t expect to be so stressed out.

The rest of the house was basically decorated. Carson made sure to buy festive decor around the house's main floor, including garland, glass jars filled with ornaments, lights and an unnecessary amount of Christmas-scented candles. She’d already offered to host at least two Christmas gatherings, not including when some of the family would stay with them later in the month.

There was a lot on Carson’s plate with all the planning she had to do, but even that wasn’t as bad as the dread she felt when it came to making everything look perfect.

“Ok, but what if we set it up in that corner, and it doesn’t look good?” Carson asked, a slight pout on her lips as she looked at her husband.

“I think it’ll look great in either corner,” Auston tried to reason.

“Well, Mia might want it in a different corner entirely.”

“I’m sure Mia doesn’t care where the tree gets set up, Carson,” he told her and nodded toward their 10-month-old, who was busy trying to climb into a box of ornaments. “She seems occupied.”

“Oh, Mia,” Carson reacted as she moved from her spot to go over and pick up their daughter. “You can’t go in there, little miss.”

Mia started giggling as Carson peppered her with kisses, and as soon as she was set back on the ground, didn’t waste any time crawling over to where Frank lay in front of the electric fireplace.

Carson watched Mia with a small smile, and Auston observed them both for a moment, his heart swelling with adoration. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he knew that he and Carson needed to figure out the tree situation before Mia got into something she wasn’t supposed to.

“What about this corner here,” Auston spoke up as he moved to said corner. “It won’t block the window seat, and you can still see it from outside. It’s away from the doorway into here, so Frank won’t be running into it all the time, and because it’ll be against the same wall as the TV and fireplace, we’ll still have a perfect view of it from the couch.”

“I guess that could work,” Carson responded, but clearly still thinking. “I just don’t want to get it all set up and regret putting it there.”

“You’re really putting a lot of thought into this.”

“I just want it to be perfect, Auston. Is you not stressing me out even more about it too much to ask?”

Auston blinked in surprise, not expecting that reaction from the woman standing across from him, and even Carson seemed surprised by her outburst.

“I-I’m sorry,” she apologized immediately and looked away from Auston, trying to blink back the tears she could feel forming as she fiddled with the sleeves of her hoodie. “I didn’t mean to snap.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Auston assured her and wasted no time moving from where he stood so he could go over to Carson. Once he was beside her, Auston pulled her into his embrace, and Carson immediately wrapped her arms around him and leaned against his chest. “You wanna tell me what’s going on? I know there’s no way the location of our Christmas tree has got you this upset.”

“You know me well,” Carson chuckled and shook her head before sighing. “I’ve just been thinking about my mom a lot lately. She loved Christmas and always made it so special for Mya, Nate and me. It was magical, and I want to do the same for Mia. Obviously, I know she will not remember her first Christmas, but I will.”

Auston couldn’t help the smile that grew as he listened before moving to place a kiss on top of Carson’s head.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her hair. “Mia’s first Christmas is going to be amazing. I won’t question what you want to do anymore. When we moved in here, I promised you could be the interior decorator, which applies to holidays.”

“Even though I go overboard?” Carson asked as she moved away from Auston’s chest to look up at him.

“Yes, I think it’s cute.”

At that, Carson smiled and then stood on her tiptoes so she could peck his lips. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Auston reminded her. “Now, about this damn tree.”

“I think you might be onto something by putting it in the corner by the window,” Carson chuckled as she stepped away from Auston and over to the corner he was standing in a few minutes prior. “It’ll cover some of the bookshelf, but I can live with that.”

“You say like these aren’t all books you’ve read and that you don’t have more all around the house.”

“And what about it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Auston responded, smiling and holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, so the tree goes in that corner. Final answer?”

“Yes, I think it’ll look great there,” Carson answered.

“Perfect,” Auston said before pushing the box toward the area. “Now that’s decided, we can finally start setting it up.”

“And fluffing, which I know you love so much.”

“Right… the best part.”

Carson laughed at Auston’s sarcasm before moving to lift the box of ornaments and lights over to where Auston started piecing the tree together, but before she could even look at the box, she was met by a thud a gasp and the sound of small items spilling out all over the floor.

Carson and Auston quickly looked to the source of the noise to find Mia sitting beside the now tipped-over box, surrounded by ornaments and looking at her parents in surprise. Soon, her shocked expression faded as she let out a happy squeal and grabbed an ornament by its string to swing around merrily.

Auston and Carson looked at each other again, trying not to laugh before Auston spoke.

“I don’t think Christmas decorating will ever be boring now that we have her to keep us entertained.”