#if i find you in my notifs again it's a block. good day.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 20

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 19 | Series Masterlist | Part 21

Chapter Word Count: Over 4k

Chapter Summary: Things come to a head when Clark confronts you.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, break-in, physical assault, threat and fear of sexual assault, choking, fighting, reference to stalking and violence, inner turmoil, angst, comfort, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and this chapter is a little heavy. Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The chilling smile on Clark’s face made you grip your phone tighter. How did he get in, and how long had he been waiting for you? Looking around, you were painfully aware that you were alone in the building lobby with him. Maybe you could head back outside and call Bucky.

Or the police.

“What are you doing here?” you asked again.

“I just wanted to see you.” He removed his glasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket. He stood taller, too. “Is that a problem?”

“If you want to see me, you can stop by the shop. You don't need to come here,” you pointed out. You had one stalker already and didn’t need to deal with another.

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, taking one step closer. “You didn't come home last night, and I thought you’d be back a little earlier today.”

A roll of uneasiness moved through you. What the hell was he on about? “Who said I didn't come home last night?” you asked. And why did he expect you back at your building earlier? Unless…

He laughed, a cruel and bitter sound. “Don’t bullshit me. I know you were with him. And I know you went out with your friends today.” His smile was going to haunt you for days. “I'm sure you had a nice time, but you do look a little more alert than I expected.”

The unease quickly turned to dread. Bucky said he caught someone following you, but what if that guy wasn't the only one? Ray would've spotted Clark though if he followed you, right? “And how exactly do you know I was with my friends?” you asked, slowly backing away toward the door since he was blocking the elevator.

“I’m a journalist. It’s my job to get the inside scoop,” he joked. You weren't laughing.

“My life isn’t inside scoop and it isn't any of your business,” you said, making his smile fade away. “I think you should leave.”

His eye twitched. “But we just started talking.”

You took a deep breath. It was getting tiring being surrounded by men who didn’t listen. “Look, I’ve had a long day on top of a long week. If Bucky finds out-”

“Bucky,” he spat, like the name tasted horrible on his tongue. “You think he’s the only powerful man in this city? I have a powerful friend, too.”

You froze. “Does your friend happen to be Helmut Zemo?” you asked, trying not to show how afraid you were. Did he know him? Work for him?

“Why don't we grab that coffee and I can tell you more about it?” he asked, reaching for your arm.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you said, glancing behind you. You wished Bucky or Ray was there. One of them would be there soon, right?

“Looking for your little bodyguard friend?” he smirked like he knew something you didn't. “I don't think he’ll make it with a flat tire and all.”

Your heart leapt to your throat. “How did you-”

“Couldn't risk anyone interfering. You can thank the limo driver for that,” he said, darting around and blocking the main door when you tried to walk out. “Why do you look so scared? There's nothing to be scared of. We’re just going to talk.”

You had every reason to be frightened. You didn’t know what Clark’s intentions were, but you sensed enough that they weren’t good and he didn’t want to just have a conversation. Bucky for all of his sins wouldn’t raise a hand to you, but Clark? Zemo? You could really get hurt.

“I’m sorry, but I think you should go.”

“Do you even want to be with Bucky or are you just afraid of him?” You jumped when he grabbed your arm. “Or is it because he’s rich? You think he’ll spoil you if you spread your legs for him?”

The sudden onslaught of vitriol made you shake. “Let me go. Please.”

He ignored your wince when his fingers dug in. “He doesn't deserve you. He isn't good for you, but I am. Just let me help you,” he argued, trying to grab your phone with his other hand. “I have a car waiting out back. Just come with me and we’ll figure this out.”

“There's nothing to figure out and I don’t need your ‘help’,” you said, yanking your arm back. “Just go and leave me alone!”

“Leave you alone? You sound just like Lois,” he bitterly whispered. His ex. You remembered the name. “Either come with me or I’ll-”

You dashed to the building staircase, not waiting for him to finish his threat. It felt reminiscent of a scary movie, running up the stairs and spelling out your doom instead of running out the front door. But you’d be okay. You could call for help once you got to your apartment.

“Get back here!”

Your legs ached as you ran faster, but the adrenaline and the heavy sound of his footsteps helped you push through it. It wasn't long until you got to your floor and you didn't look back as you got your keys out. “Come on,” you whimpered, your hand shaking as you unlocked your door. You sensed Clark right behind you, but you slammed and locked the door before he could get in.

“Open the door!” he shouted, the door shaking as he slammed his fist against it.

“Go away!” you begged, swiping at your phone screen. “Please…”

The sound of your door being kicked in nearly made your heart burst from your chest. You spun around to find Clark just outside, his breathing heavy as he narrowed his eyes at you. Scrambling back as he stormed inside, you opened your mouth and did something you never thought you'd do since Bucky entered your life.

“Bucky, help!” you cried, hoping that whatever cameras Bucky had in your place had sound. “Help me, please!”

You tried to rush to your room, but Clark was faster. Stronger. He pulled you back so fast and so hard by your wrist that you fell backwards to the floor. Pain shot through your body and you felt like you couldn't draw your next breath when Clark’s shadow fell over you. Tears stung your eyes, your body temporarily paralyzed as he kicked your phone away.

“Look what you made me do,” he sighed, crouching over you. “Lois ran from me, too.”

“What…”

“She was stubborn. Headstrong. We had a big fight and, well…” He shook his head. “But you were always so kind to me, and I thought you’d make it all better.”

The night you came home and found Bucky waiting for you frightened you, but it paled in comparison to the pure terror you felt when Clark crouched over you. There was something dark and twisted in his eyes as he looked you over. Any trace of the nice guy you were used to seeing in the shop was nowhere to be found.

“Bucky,” you breathed, some of the pain subsiding as you tried to roll away. “P-Please, help me.”

Clark’s face twisted into a murderous scowl when he rolled you onto your back again and clamped a hand over your mouth. “Stop saying his name. Stop fighting me. I don't want to hurt you.”

Your eyes widened, barely able to breathe through your nose. Cark already hurt you. Pain bloomed everywhere he touched. There were sure to be marks or something with how hard he pressed against your mouth.

“You just need to understand,” he whispered.

You tensed up when his hand touched your thigh. You didn't know if it was to pry your legs open or to try to carry you out, but you wouldn't let him have you. And if he was going to have you, you wouldn't give it to him easily. So you struggled as much as you could and managed to move his hand away just enough for you to bite down.

He cried out and pulled his hand back, looking as shocked as you felt. “Why are you behaving like a petulant child? I’m trying to help you. Why don't you see that?!”

“Clark, you're hurting me. Please, stop.” Tears streamed down your cheeks when he wrapped a hand around your throat. “Bucky, HELP ME!” you tried to scream, the fingers around your neck cutting off your words along with your air supply.

Images flashed in your mind when you clawed at his hand. Putting together your first arrangement at your childhood home. Grabbing your favorite treat from the cafe. Finding a good book at Marc’s shop. The day Mrs. Crandle hired you. Laughing with your girlfriends. And waking up beside Bucky that morning, a soft smile on his face. Something you didn't expect to think about.

Were you going to die?

“Shut. Up.” he snarled, loosening his grip just a little. “Just let me-”

Neither of you saw the figure behind him until he was pulled off you and shoved across the room. It happened so fast you couldn't tell if it was Bucky or not. You held your throat as you coughed and greedily gulped the air, the sound of scuffling and objects breaking urging you to move away. Sitting up, you were vaguely aware of more footsteps entering your apartment, but couldn't see who they were. You just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

You didn't want anyone else to hurt you.

Before you could get out of the room, a large, imposing body suddenly cradled you against it and gently held you when you tried to fight back. Blinking your tears away, you realized the man had blue eyes, but it wasn't Bucky or Ray. You didn't recognize him at all. Was he a new tenant?

“W-Who…”

“It’s okay,” the man assured you, quickly assessing you as the shouting and fighting continued. He brushed a finger along a rip in your cardigan. When did Clark do that? “Are you hurt?”

“I don't know,” you whimpered. Your wrist throbbed from where Clark gripped it, and so did your throat.

The fighting only lasted a few more seconds, the sound of heavy breathing filling your apartment before you heard, “Kotyonok?”

“She’s right here.” The man holding you let you go, but stayed close. “She’s safe.”

Safe. You weren't safe. You would never be safe again in this lifetime, would you?

“B... Bucky?” your voice cracked. You trembled and you thought you were crying, too, but you couldn't be sure. It wasn't until you blinked and felt a pair of almost familiar arms around you that your vision began to become more clear again. “You're here?”

“It’s me. I'm here,” he tried to soothe you, tenderly wiping your tears away. His hair was a mess and his clothes were disheveled, a far cry from the put together man you were used to seeing. “I’ve got you.”

Glancing across the room, you spotted Clark laying on the ground with Ray and Steve standing over him. You let out a broken sob when you took in the rest of the scene. Your potted plants and vases were broken, your little trinkets and frames shattered, and everything felt terrifying. It was supposed to be your home and it was once again invaded and forever tainted.

“Steve, bring him to the club. Shut it down. No one touches him until I get there.” Bucky’s metal arm curled around you and lifted you before you could protest that you were too heavy, the heat radiating from him soothing you. “Ray, deal with any neighbors who saw or heard anything. No cops.”

“You sure you don't need me to drive you?” Ray asked, concern etched all over his face when he looked at you. He looked both hurt and furious.

“I’m sure. Just get to the club after you deal with the neighbors.”

Something covered your body. Was it a blanket? A jacket? “What do you need from me?” the stranger asked.

“Get the car. Take us home,” Bucky ordered, carrying you away.

You didn't lift your head as Bucky carried you to the elevator. Did your neighbors hear the commotion? “He was waiting for me. H… He kicked my door in.” You sniffled, your body shaking uncontrollably. “He grabbed me and…”

“He won't touch you again. Ever,” he whispered. He was holding his anger at bay. You could feel it.

“I told him to go,” you explained, seeing the clench in his jaw. “I didn't… I’m sorry…”

Bucky gently shushed you. “You don't need to apologize. This isn't your fault. And I’m taking you home and no one is going to lay a finger on you ever again.”

You nodded, but some voice in the back of your head said you caused this somehow. It may have been the shock you felt since you rationally knew you hadn't done anything. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Bucky paused to look at you. “You don't need to thank me.”

“But you saved me,” you said. Him and the man you didn't recognize. “If you hadn't…” Your stomach rolled as you trailed off, not wanting to imagine the worst.

He held you closer. “If you call for me, I’ll be there.”

How did he get there so quickly? And Ray? “How did you know something was… I mean…” You sniffled again. “Did you hear me?”

Bucky tensed up. “Steve and I weren't too far from your place, and I got an alert as soon as your door opened. I knew something was wrong because Ray wasn’t here yet and you were still supposed to be in the limo,” he said, stepping out of the elevator and heading right to the car. “I dispatched Curtis immediately and we were close behind. Ray ran to get here.”

Your brows pinched. “Curtis?” you asked. Was that the man you didn't recognize?

“He works for me. I’ve had him keep an eye on you. You weren't supposed to meet him…” He swallowed and looked down at you. “Like this.”

Another man watching you. When exactly were you supposed to meet him? “So you heard me call for you?” you asked.

He swallowed again and nodded. “Yes.”

Never in a million years did you think you’d call out to him for help. You didn't consider that the cameras would ever be anything more than an obsessive way for him to have control over you, but it may have saved you today. And you couldn't imagine what you looked like as he looked over you. Your makeup ruined, shaking like a leaf.

“Try not to move too much,” he urged when you shifted in his arms. “I’m going to have my doctor look you over to make sure nothing’s broken and… to make sure you're okay.”

“Okay.” Your face scrunched up before you began to cry again. You were hurt and so confused. Nothing made sense and you couldn't even go home. “Why did Clark-”

Bucky let out a low growl and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Never say his name again.”

You hid your face in his neck, wetting his skin with your tears. “I was so scared.”

He slowly breathed out. “I was, too,” he admitted in a whisper. “But I’ve got you now.”

Bucky had you, but your tears didn't stop flowing and it didn't change what happened.

“I’m so sorry, Kotyonok,” Bucky whispered brokenly. He wasn't a helpless man by any means, but you were certain your sobs made him feel hopeless at the moment. “I can't fix what he did, but I’ll make him pay. He’ll fucking pay. I promise.”

You slumped against Bucky, exhausted from everything that transpired. You had no doubt he'd destroy Clark for hurting you. You just wished he never put his hands on you to begin with.

The partition lowered, but you kept your face hidden in Bucky's neck. “Nick got the driver,” Curtis announced.

“Make sure he’s brought to the club,” Bucky said, rubbing your back. “I need him to tell me exactly why he let you out of the limo before I beat him within an inch of his life.”

“He did it… The driver.” You sounded like you hadn't used your voice in days. “He did something to Ray's car.”

You hadn't been able to process what Clark said earlier, but you could now and it all made sense. The driver was at the winery the entire time you were and he would've had plenty of opportunities to mess with one of Ray's tires. Knowing that Ray wouldn't get to your building like normal, he let you get out of the limo and go into your building where Clark was waiting.

Clark also said you were more alert than he expected. Maybe you weren't paranoid by thinking something happened to the drinks. If you drank as much as your friends, you may have been more out of it and wouldn't have been able to put up any sort of fight against Clark.

Bucky tilted your head up and wiped a stray tear away. “He’ll pay, too,” he promised, not even questioning if what you said was true. He took you at your word. “There’s something else, isn't there?” he asked, grabbing a water from beside him and bringing it to your lips.

“He didn't confirm it, but…” You took a drink, the cool liquid making your throat feel a little better. “I think Zemo had something to do with this.”

Bucky’s mouth was set in a grim line and fury burned behind his eyes, but he softened his gaze for you. “Zemo knows you're my future wife. If he knowingly allowed someone to put their hands on you…” His metal fingers curled, but he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead. “Did Jensen get that file like I asked?”

“He did,” Curtis confirmed, looking in the rearview mirror.

“Make sure he’s there, too,” he said, keeping his eyes on you. “Let's get you inside.”

A few minutes later, you found yourself lying in a guest bedroom with a blanket draped over you. Bucky didn't leave your side as he made a couple of calls, but you didn't pay attention to who he was talking to as you stared at the ceiling. You weren't sure if shock was wearing off or sinking in.

“Kotyonok? Dr. Cho’s almost here,” Bucky said, worried when you didn't look at him. “I can run you a bath after she looks you over and give you something for any pain you’re feeling. Or you can just rest.”

You made some sort of humming noise. Today was a day in your life that should've been fun, a day to remember a nice outing with your friends. The memories were tainted now, just like your home. It hurt so much. And you couldn't even message your friends because how would you start to explain what happened?

“What can I do?” he asked. He sounded desperate. This was something out of his control.

“I have to work tomorrow,” you said, testing your wrist and ignoring his question. Work was normal. You needed normalcy. “I have to…”

“What? No, you’re not working tomorrow. Mrs. Crandle will understand,” he said, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your wrist. You went rigid for a moment before you relaxed. He wouldn't hurt you. “You need to rest and stay here.”

You sniffled. What were you going to say if you called in? That a customer attacked you? “My stuff…” you said. There were things at your apartment you wanted, needed.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll make sure it's brought here. It isn't safe for you to go back there.”

“How long do I have to stay here?” you asked. Would you be a prisoner now as a means to keep you safe? He had every excuse in the world now to do so since his home was safer than yours ever was.

“We need to discuss some fail-safes, like getting you a panic button.”

“Kind of surprised you didn't make me carry one from the start,” you commented.

“You've been a bit skittish because of how I went about everything. If I gave you a panic button, it may have scared you into never leaving your place and I couldn't do that to you.”

He had a point, but you wouldn't say so. “But you could install cameras and have men like Ray and Curtis watch me?”

“Because I know I put you in danger, which is a reason why I did those things and why I wanted you here for good. I also wanted you here for selfish reasons, but your safety is the top priority,” he smiled sadly.

You almost laughed. He preached over and over about your safety and it turned out he was right in some way. “Looks like you got your wish,” you said, trying not to tear up again. “You’re moving me in before the month’s out.”

He looked stricken. “It wasn't supposed to be like this,” he whispered.

You studied him with a careful eye. Part of you thought in the beginning that he was twisted enough to arrange a setup so he could step in and play the hero, but he would never do something like that to you. He’d never let anyone else touch you if he could help it. And he couldn't fake the pain in his eyes. It hurt him that you were hurt.

“I really am thankful that you showed up tonight,” you said.

“I go where you go,” he swore, curling up beside you. “Always.”

He’d follow you into hell if you asked him to do so. “Will you please do me a favor?” you asked.

“Anything,” he replied.

“Cl… He mentioned his ex-girlfriend. Lois,” you said. “Can you make sure she’s okay?”

You weren't certain if Clark attacked you on Zemo’s orders or if it had nothing to do with Zemo at all, but you were afraid for Lois. As obsessive as Bucky was, it was a saving grace tonight that you had someone looking out for you. Not an excuse, but a silver lining.

“You're hurt and you're thinking of someone else?” he asked in awe.

You bristled for no good reason at all. “You don't have to worry about me. I’m fine.” You inhaled and exhaled, trying to compartmentalize again. If you could just go to sleep and pretend everything was normal, that you were just a florist with an average life… “I’m fine.”

Bucky shook his head. “You're not fine.”

“Of course I’m not fine! Nothing is fine!” you snapped. He didn't flinch. Didn't move. “I was followed! I was attacked! I…”

You were living in a nightmare.

Your chest heaved before Bucky put your face in his chest. The dam built up inside you, all the turmoil and stress you tried desperately to keep from surfacing, finally broke and overflowed. Your fingers curled in his shirt and it all came out in heart wrenching sobs, as if a piece of you died. You cried until your head hurt and your throat felt raw. Until you didn't think you had any tears left to cry.

He held you through it all, being the calm in your emotional storm, your source of comfort instead of your tormentor. “It isn't fair,” you cried. It wasn't fair what you were going through, but life was never fair.

“It isn't,” he agreed, not letting you go when you stopped crying. “But I’ll make them pay and we’ll get through this together.”

“Together?”

“Together,” he whispered.

You had to believe he was telling the truth, that things would look up and you’d heal from the pain. You'd either hold your head high or Bucky would hold your head up for you. Like everything else in your life recently, you had no other choice but to grin and bear it. And no matter what, Bucky would be by your side through it all.

Because everything led back to him, the threads of fate weaved together by his very hands.

And breathe, lovelies. This was a heavy chapter for me to write, and I just want to give Kotyonok all the love and comfort and wine and money and everything. What is Bucky going to do to Clark? Do we think Zemo will be pleased when he finds out what Clark did? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bahablastplz]

Skz fic recs (mxm) MDNI

hello! we had mixed opinions if we wanted mxm fic recs but I decided to make one anyway so those of you who want it, have at it! those of you who don't, that's okay you don't have to interact <3

These fics are all on ao3! I tried to find tumblr blogs for those authors who have them but if i'm missing anyone feel free to let me know. These are all mature unless otherwise stated! They are majority minsung but in general they are sorted by pairing with the older member first!

here's the color code: completed, ongoing, over 50k words, under 50k words, no smut

Haebang by BulletTears Chan/Everyone, 193k completed: Chan’s friend sets him up for a ‘spa retreat’ but he later finds out it’s a sexual liberation program. Slow burn, virginity loss, kink discovery, angst, hurt/comfort

you know I can’t leave you alone by @jisungjuice Chan/Minho, 13k completed: “When Chan asks Minho to help him with his dancing for the Red Lights MV, he didn't expect to like a certain part of the choreography so (very) much.” red lights, choking, kink discovery

reply hazy, try again by mrehk Chan/Changbin, 15k completed: “Changbin’s calculus tutor is Bang Chan. (OR: solving for the derivative of l+o+v+e)” frat boy chan, fwb, pining, loss of virginity, idiots in love

Case 35 by theproblematique Chan/Felix, 15k completed, part of series: “The running joke is that he is the 'group-dad', and Chan plays the part for his friends without protest. Then Felix has to go and complicate things.” Daddy kink, idiots to lovers

deviation by theproblematique Chan/Jeongin 8k completed: “They all used Chan for their first ruts, until it’s Jeongin's turn.” bang chan wants to feel needed, a/b/o, omega chan, heats/ruts

I’ll never be that type of beautiful by @changbinholic Minho/Changbin, 50k completed: “the unconventional omega Changbin and feral alpha Minho we all needed.” one dubcon scene, a/b/o, angst

Case 54 by theproblematique Minho/Jisung, 35k completed, part of series: “Jisung is so supportive of Minho’s sexuality that it goes wrong.” Jealous Han, coming to terms with sexuality, great buildup

Your love (my breath) by Lox_y Minho/Jisung, 34k ongoing: “In which Jisung is the luna of his pack, and is tormented by his mate until he's killed in a fight with a neighboring pack, by an alpha named Minho.” heed warnings, a/b/o, abuse, hurt/comfort

Rule number one by evesmysoul Minho/Jisung, 144k completed: “Or Jisung’s broken heart leads him to make an arrangement with his mysterious classmate Minho. He believes everything will work out, as long as neither of them breaks the rules.” fwb, bad with feelings, slow burn, angst, happy ending

Ruin me (for everyone else) by preetydark Minho/Jisung, 20k completed: “Minho’s rut is blocked, it’s been for years now.This was never really a problem for him; except when the symptoms show up again when his younger brother's best friend, Jisung, is around.” pining, a/b/o, tension

no attachments by ockleibi, Minho/Jisung, 68k ongoing: “The guy who refuses to have sex with Jisung because he's a virgin turns out to be inextricably connected to his friend group. Awesome.” fwb, virginity loss, angst, great smut

chasing friction by cloudrages Minho/Jisung, 5k completed: “Jisung rides Minho’s thigh” virginity loss, gay panic, thigh riding (duh)

use me for a feeling (or a good time) by honeyeaters Minho/Jisung, 58k completed: “Minho and Jisung have slept with everyone except each other. Until that changes. No feelings attached, of course.” fwb, pining, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

mouth to mouth by keros Minho/Jisung, 54k completed; “It’s Jisung’s first time off schedule in months, and he’s naturally anticipating the most boring day ever. When Minho gets back to the dorms early, it turns into anything but.” pining, tension, teasing, confessions

you have one (1) new notification by hnjsngluvr69 Minho/Jisung, 8k completed: “Jisung asks Minho to help him with his porn-watching addiction. Against his better judgment, Minho agrees.” friends to lovers, tension, humor lots of thoughts, head full (and bursting with horniness) by hnjsngluvr69 Minho/Jisung 13k completed: “Minho develops the power to read minds. Turns out, Jisung's thoughts are very, very horny.” mutual pining, friends to lovers, humor, I have a plan to write an xreader fic inspired by this soon

ex proprio vigore by mrehk Minho/Jisung, 23k completed, professor minho/law school student han, slowburn, tension, teasing, great smut, power dynamics

a fish tank (with rainbow socks) by mrehk, Minho/Jisung, 10k completed: “Minho never sleeps with the same guy twice; Jisung becomes a master of disguise” strangers to lovers, idiots in love, humor, mrehk has the best writing 

an octopus (playing tennis) by mhrek Minho/Jisung, 10k completed: “Minho sighs. “Put yourself in my shoes, Bin. You see incriminating photos of your best friend. You realize you’ve been in love with your best friend for ages. You can’t stop touching your dick while thinking about your best friend— and now you’re just supposed to hang out with your best friend like everything is fine?!” friends to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, comedy, mutual pining  chrysalis by mhrek Minho/Jisung 12k completed: “Jisung didn’t prepare for this. He was meant to just— tell Minho he’s gay— not ask him to have sex with him. The glass must have been a literal breaking point for his feeble self control.” friends to lovers, mutual pining, loss of virginity, gay awakening

cat’s cradle by mrehk, Hyunjin/Jeongin 13k completed: “Hyunjin starts fucking his drug dealer because he asked so nicely” stoners, fwb, gay awakening, idiots in love 

I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do by @/jisungjuice Jisung/Everyone 117k completed: “How omega Jisung turns all of Stray Kids into a proper pack.” fluff, a/b/o, light angst, loss of virginity, poly

between pavement and sky by tellmesomethinggood Jisung/2min 5k completed: “You want Minho to... cheat on you?" Jisung asks. "I want Minho to sleep with someone, while I watch." Seungmin says.” threesome, cuckholding, poly

Unsweetened Lemonade by Intricate 6 Jisung/Felix, Jisung/Everyone 44k ongoing: “Jisung runs away from his old pack only to be captured by another. This pack claims to be different, but Jisung isn't so sure…” Heed warnings, a/b/o, abuse, angst, hurt/comfort, smut

I’ll be good by skittlesmenu Jisung/Seungmin, 5k completed: “Cocky fuck boy Jisung gets flustered when top student Seungmin flirts back.” enemies to friends, fwb, tension

Open your hands (open your life) by rainyleafs Felix/Everyone, 158k ongoing: “Felix has been living off the grid ever since he fled his abusive former alpha. When he finds a distressed omega in an alley, he has no idea that bringing Jeongin back to his pack will get him everything he would never have dared to dream of.” No smut, slow-burn, hurt/comfort

effortless like loving you by littleinfinitewisdoms Jeongin/everyone, 202k ongoing; “Yang Jeongin, 24, "beta," has been disowned by his religious family after coming out. A month or so later, he finds himself with nowhere else to go, and almost no more money. He finally calls a crisis center and gets placed in an employment assistance program and a host pack.” fluff, angst, past trauma/abuse, religious trauma, haven’t finished yet but it’s good enough so far to recommend

[tvgals]

‘ CHILL OUT ‘

— e42! miles morales x black! fem! reader

synopsis — you see miles walking around campus with a girl you’ve never seen before and it sparks a new issue .

cw ; cheating, fluff to angst, hurt/no comfort, black! reader, reader literally doesn’t deserve this shes so sweet, watched good girls during this so i think that’s where this came from, made up characters

— ENJOY !!

you watch as your boyfriend walked into the cafeteria with a girl you’d never seen before. a mid-length honey blonde wig on her head and her nails done with french tips. you synch your eyebrows together in confusion and you turn to your friends. “who’s that with miles?” you ask, subtly pointing to her. “oh, girl! that’s the new girl, her name is jess or something, i dunno.” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “aight.” you say, shrugging your own shoulders and scrolling through instagram. miles and jess get closer to your table and that’s when you can hear their conversation.

“i love your braids! who did them?” jess asks, running the tip of her fingers over them. “awe, my girl did ‘em for me. there she go right there.” miles says, taking a seat next to you. “y/n.” miles calls your name. you look up at him and smile. “hey miles. who’s this?” you ask, looking at her features. “jess. she’s new so i just showed her around a lil.” miles explains, pulling you into his frame. “ohhh…” you say, widening your eyes and nodding your head. “well, y’know, i really need help with the spanish homework, could you help me?” you ask coyly, batting you eyelashes up at him. “‘course, chica guap.” miles replies, bending down to kiss you.

“get a room!” you hear from one of your friends, taking a video to post on her story later. you giggle and miles opens up his phone. jess looks over and seems to perk up. “you got snap?” she asks, pulling her own phone out. “oh, yeah,” miles replies, “i don’t use it like that though. i don’t talk to people like that.” the bell rings and you and miles say your goodbyes and walk to spanish. “so,” you started. “so?” miles repeats, curiosity in his voice. “where’d you meet her at?” you ask, interlocking you and miles’ pinkie fingers while you two walk down the hallway. “she came up to me while i was walking into the school, asked me to give her a tour.” miles dismissed your question, now taking the lead in you twos walk to class. “oh.” you say, searching through the sides of your backpack with one hand trying to find your lipgloss. “what’re you looking for?” miles asks, opening the door so you can walk into your spanish class. “my lipgloss..i can’t find it..” you mumble, sitting yourself down and sitting your backpack on your desk.

“chill, mami. i can buy you some more.” miles soothes you, taking the desk next to you. you sigh and pull out your notebook and pencil. you watch the front of the room, bored while the teacher talks. within the first thirty minutes of class, miles had thrown six folded up notes to you and texted you over five times. you pull your phone out as discreetly as you could and scroll through the texts.

‘she found my snap bro’

‘swear ts annoying’

‘i ain’t even talk to her like that’

‘bro she’s texting my phone foe’

‘i’m finna block her ass’

‘respond 😒’

you look over at miles and roll your eyes playfully, texting back.

‘js block her?’

miles turns to you and gives you a straight face, looking down at his phone and ignoring the ping of the snapchat notifications. this is bothering you and you don’t know why. you and miles have been dating for over eight months now and you’ve never felt like this before. is it jealousy? maybe. you doubt it though. you leave it in the back of your head just for the bell to ring again, signaling the last class of the day. you pack your stuff up and wait on miles in the doorway. “she keep on texting my phone.” mines groans, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“maybe she got a lil crush.” you snicker, feeling miles playfully bump your shoulders together. “nah. don’t need no crushes, already got my girl.” miles grins, pulling you in for a hug then having to pull away almost immediately. “see you at my dorm?” you ask, walking slower than before. “yep.” and with that, you two parted your ways until 2:30. you and some of your friends meet in the hall and make your way to your classes. you were taking your time walking to class, until your friend brought up a topic. a sensitive one.

“y’know, it’s be funny if miles were cheating on you with that jess girl.” she laughed while everyone else went quiet. “what?” you ask, looking around confused. “it was a joke, damn. if you were in a loyal relationship you wouldn’t get so mad.” she clapped back almost immediately, as if she was waiting to say it for a while now. “what are you talking about? i am in a loyal relationship.” you argue, pulling your phone out to text miles. “little do you know.” she replies in a sarcastic tone. your purse your lips together and turn around, making your way to the bathrooms.

“you didn’t have to do allat.” another one of your friends said, sympathy laced in her voice like she was just confronted with her own boyfriend cheating. you made it to the bathroom and opened a stall, sitting on the toilet seat. you open your phone and text miles.

‘so that’s wtf we doing now?’

you sit and wait for a response, getting one almost immediately.

‘wym??’

‘i mean you cheating on me’

‘who told you ts?’

you sigh and start to feel tears well into your eyes. you loved him so so so much, you met his parents, you ate dinner at his house, you’ve spent the night, you’ve watched him cry, bleed — everything under the sun and this is how he repaid you.

‘you don’t need to know all that. we’re done bro. don’t come by my house, don’t call my phone, don’t call my momma phone, give me back my house keys, and delete my number.’

miles fucked up, and he knew it.

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

taglist — @venusluvslove @traqstarlo @mangolog @ohmaiscool15 @ohsanghoe @iiilovemilfs @garnetj @guapaneeseb @nekoweb @samdwitch @cloudniteee @azadabts @elitesanjisimp @theyfwkayla14 @lennielane @kelesisworld @aaliyahlia-babyy @dorkmuffin27 @markleedreams @violxtbxbyy @pinkluvrr @yourrfavzxri @noraloralei @blackgirlontheblock

[mrs-hatake]

JJK Men Texting You After a Break-up

warning: mentions of violence and stalking. relationships: male x afab!reader a/n: i added yuuta to the list :D also, all images below belong to me‼️

Toji:

The monotonous voice filling the room does not succeed in stealing Y/N’s attention from her phone as it lights up with yet another incoming call.

Toji

Stares back at her, his infamous smirk can almost be seen on the screen as the notification shows his fifth missed call in less than two minutes.

Being stuck in an important meeting on a product the company right after a break-up is the absolute worst. 

Y/N and Toji spent the previous night arguing about something that she cannot remember at the current time. But Toji’s thundering voice rattling her heart in her ribcage rings clear in her ears.

A jab to her side and Y/N is met with a side glare from her colleague who points at her phone with her eyes. Flushing in embarrassment, Y/N hurries to switch off her phone when a text message from her now ex-boyfriend catches her. Scoffing, she sends a quick reply before switching it off.

Satoru:

Binge watching all the feel good chick flicks is the best remedy for Y/N’s broken heart. 

She has shed some tears as the women on the screen cried over a relationship gone sour, has laughed when the female characters enjoyed themselves and has felt empowered when the women got over their heartache and moved on with their lives, becoming the better versions of themselves. 

Which is why when Satoru’s name pops up on her phone, she doesn’t feel the butterflies fluttering about in her tummy like they usually do. Instead, there are tiny spiders crawling in her veins, eating those vermin. 

Pausing the movie, Y/N picks up her phone with disinterest. 

A breathless chuckle, one lacking mirth, rushes past her lips. 

What a ridiculous message her ex has sent her.

Kento:

Going to a bookstore, browsing the shelves for hours and filling the basket to the brim with new books and reading one of them at the coffee shop across the street was Y/N and Kento’s go to date idea.

They will sit at the coffee shop from early afternoon until the sun is just about to set. Having read quite a handful of chapters, they’d review the books they’ve read. Though they don’t read the same genres, they have the maturity to respect the other’s interest and provide honest inputs when asked for. 

But after their break-up just a few days ago, Y/N can’t stand the sight of hers and Kento’s bookshelves in their living room. The only way to shield her from such a sight, the one that taunts her of a lost love, is by retreating to her and Kento’s room. The only solace is that Kento is staying over at a friend’s house until he finds a new apartment to rent. 

Even though she misses Kento, even though she wants him back, Y/N refuses to be the bigger person and takes the first step. 

Which is why when Kento texts her, she doesn’t respond in her usual chipper attitude.

Suguru:

“…So I says to the guy, that’s my ma!”

Y/N shoulders shake as laughter erupts from her. Though the joke itself wasn’t funny, the way her date delivered it with so much enthusiasm is hilarious enough. 

Y/S has been nervous for the past week over the prospect of dating again. She just got out of a break up a little less than a month ago and she isn’t completely ready to be back on the dating scene but her friends have convinced her that the only way to get over a guy is by meeting someone new.

So, she downloads a dating app her friends recommended, matched with someone interesting enough and, here she is, on her first date after being in a relationship with Geto Suguru for two years.

Warmth floods her veins at the look her date is directing her way, gentle and curious, it’s a sight Y/N hasn’t been on the receiving end in a very long time.

She’s glad she is on this date. It’s time she thinks of herself for once.

But her resolve shatters when her phone lights up, showing Suguru’s name.

She picks up her phone to block his number but his message has her rolling her eyes. Typing a quick response, Y/N blocks her ex.

Sukuna:

Finally, after years of emotional abuse, of nights crying herself to sleep, Y/N has finally broken-up with her boyfriend of five years. 

Ryomen Sukuna’s luck runs out when he finally pushes Y/N over her limit. Their last fight has Y/N throwing whatever object she can find at the tattooed man. When he successfully dodges them, she chases him out of her apartment with a kitchen knife.

That was a month ago.

Now, Y/N is in the living room of her new apartment, playing some violent game where whenever she rips off the arms, legs and head of a male character, she pictures them as Sukuna.

Horrifying, true, but this is what happens when you date someone as deranged as Sukuna.

Which is why when Y/N gets a text from an unknown number, her blood boils. 

How the fuck did Sukuna manage to get her new number?

Yuuta:

Dating Okkotsu Yuuta is like dating prince Charming. 

He spoils you with gifts, sings songs of praise, touches you with care and wakes and sleeps to your name on his tongue. 

Which is why, when Yuuta calls Y/N the wrong name in bed — the name of a deceased lover, no less — it is as if she has been doused in cold water, waking her up from her dreams.

What surprises Y/N even more is how incessant Yuuta is; calling her phone nonstop, loitering around her work place, following her room, banging on the door and begging for forgiveness. 

When Y/N grows fearful for her life, she quits her job, packs up her shit and leaves. 

Little by little, pretty colors paint Y/N’s world and she finds herself alive again. 

But the vibrant colors are painted over by dark and dull shades when a spam of messages from an unknown number reminds her of the past she’s been trying to escape.

Y/N isn’t going to give up. She will fight for the life she deserves. And if breaking his heart is the price for it, then so be it.

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 5

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.

Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.

ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.

You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.

"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."

"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."

You stare at him indifferently.

"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."

You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"

He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."

"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.

"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."

You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.

Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"

You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."

His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.

"What?" you call after him.

"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."

You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.

You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.

You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.

"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.

There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.

"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.

"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"

"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."

"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."

"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.

"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.

"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."

Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."

You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."

You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.

Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.

Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.

Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.

You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.

The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.

Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.

When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.

"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.

You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.

When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.

Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.

A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.

Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"

You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.

"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.

You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.

"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.

"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."

You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.

After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."

She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.

In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.

He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.

When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?

When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.

You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.

You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron

[tossawary]

General info: as far as I'm concerned, all of my fic ideas posted here are up for grabs.

Most of them, I'm never going to get around to writing, unfortunately, because I don't have the time, and even if I do write some out, I'm not going to object to someone else giving their own take. I very much subscribe to the "HOLY SHIT, TWO CAKES!" philosophy for fandom: more treats in more flavors is good.

Guidelines (as far as I can set conditions when I can't actually stop anyone): 1) If you get around to posting anything for this fic idea, I would appreciate being informed when you do. I may lose the notification because my brain is soup when I'm tired, so you can always message me again asking for a signal boost or something. I won't promise to read any fanfiction, because I may still be working on my own thing, but I still like being told.

2) I would also appreciate a shout-out, like an acknowledgement in the author's notes, for the inspiration, especially for very specific ideas with many details that get used. If you're going as far as to use dialogue that I wrote, then I would prefer a link to the original post / fic as well as a shout-out.

3) If I do decide to write out the fic idea someday, you have to be cool with there being two takes on it. We're not competing. No two people are going to have the same interpretation of a premise, which is great, when different fans are looking for different things. I'll probably be happy to link our works together. And if I am inspired by your work directly, if I do read it, then I will credit you for it, of course.

I am also fine with it if people write fanfiction of my fanfiction. If you write fanfiction of my fanfiction and say, "This fic sucked, I made it better," then it will hurt my feelings and I will probably block you, but I'm still not going to, like, ever try to set my followers on anyone. If you write out my fic ideas and you make any characterization or plot choices that are not to my taste, then I am going to go, "Oh, well, I hope they're having fun," and then get on with my day. If I somehow find out that you wrote my fic idea or fanfic for my fanfic and never told me about it, then I'm probably going to go, "Fair enough, I also generally prefer that authors do not acknowledge my existence," and it will not be a big deal.

So, go for it! Someone might as well try writing it and have fun with it, if I'm not going to, and also even if I do. ❤️

[martygraciesversion381]

BLOWING SMOKE

charles leclerc x reader

Part2 of this

Warnings!: angst like always, alexandra being the mean one (NO HATE I LOVE ALEX WITH ALL OF MY HEART SHES A GODDESS), smau, crying and that's all!!

a/n: idk what happened with me with these two fics they’re extremely sad while normally I just put happy endings well enjoy this and I’ll hope that my stories will get happier like❤️‍🩹this is extremely short! (from Gracie’s song blowing smoke) 

1 year ago. That was the last time you talked to Charles after you broke up. He put you through so much pain and you cut all the contact with him not to get hurt again. You stopped following him on social media, blocked his number and stopped watching his races. You keep telling everyone that you’re fine even if it’s not the truth.

 f1gossip: Charles leclerc the famous formula 1 driver gets a new girlfriend Alexandra Saint-Mleux

This was the first notification you saw this  morning on your phone. You looked at the pictures and saw Charles and her holding each other and leo and you couldn’t help but feel hurt at the reminder that you once were this girl. You were tempted to text Charles and that’s what you did. 

 Was all you sent to him. You got ready and headed to your work. While walking you bumped into someone much taller than you. "Sorry it’s my fault I wasn’t looking" you apologise before looking at the stranger’s face and meeting those eyes the ones that made you fall in love and broke your heart. Charles. The picture of him holding her played nonstop in your mind and you wanted to throw up. 

You immediately walked away before Charles could say anything and noticed a girl walking past you and his way. Alexandra. She glanced at you before going to her boyfriend. Your work day was extremely exhausting and when you came back home you showered before ordering a pizza and watching a random tv show. 

Your phone buzzed with a message and you looked at it realising that it was a text from charles.

The text said then, a dm on instagram from Alexandra popped up on your screen and you read it.

You were nearly shocked by it but then remember how girls tended to be overprotective when they were with Charles. You didn’t want to answer her directly, instead you posted a picture of you on your couch.

It was clearly directed to Alexandra. Charles liked your post clearly not understanding the real meaning. 

A few days after, you were at a bar waiting for Charles. He asked you to talk to try and become friends again. You saw him from afar and smiled at him. When he smiled back with his dimples full on display, you could swear that you saw your heart jumping out of your chest. 

"Hi" he said sitting in front of you. "Hi" you said back smiling at him. "How are you? How’s it going with Alexandra?" He hesitated before answering. "I’m not that good but Alexandra's helping me keeping my head up so yeah things are good between us." You smile softly. "You deserve happiness Charles…I hope on day I’ll find it to." He smiled at you sadly. "She’ll be happy to meet you y’know" he said attempting to lighten the mood. "I’ll be happy to see you more too." He leaned a bit closer. "We…we can’t Charles you have a girlfriend" you say before storming away. 

You got to your house and decided to make an instagram post to clarify to everyone that it wasn’t really over between you and Charles for you that the pain was still here. 

Charles phone buzzed with a notification. He looked down at it and opened it to see a picture of you crying with mascara staining your cheeks.

Once he read it he realised that your story wasn’t going to end like that. That another chapter could change everything.

a/n: guess what’s coming? Another chapter! 

tagglist:

@swiftlyconehead @g00d--vibes @carloswinner @paulinegba @f1addict3 @gorgeusreputation16 @motorsportbarbie13

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Love Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your fiance suggests incorporating roleplay in the bedroom to keep the spark alive, but playing pretend turns out to be all too real.

Characters: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I did this because I could.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'You ready?' 

A tingle accompanies the text. Your stomach tosses and turns at the thought. You think you're ready. As ready as you can be. It's all so new to you. 

You hover your finger over the automated reply suggested by the OS. You tap on 'yes', too shaky to type it yourself. You're not scared, just nervous. 

When Andy first brought up the idea, you laughed. It was so absurd. Silly really. 

You remember how the look he gave you was like hands on your throat. The hurt with an edge of agitation strangled away your laughter. You apologised and asked him if you heard him right. Then he explained and it made sense. Kind of. 

'If we're going to get married, we need to keep the flame alive,' your fiance said as you stirred the contents of a pan with a spatula. 'Trust me, I know. A dead bedroom can kill everything else.' 

You frown at the memory. You hate when he mentions his first wife. He's engaged to you now. You're not her. Besides, things are pretty good. That's why you laughed. There was nothing bland to spice up. At least, you hadn't thought so. 

'You know the plan?' He texts. Always thorough, if not persistent. 

'I think' you type as you squeeze your phone tighter then think better of the reply. You backspace. Remember the plan. 'Yes, sir.' 

You blow out between your lip and put the phone on the counter. You look in the mirror and pick up the bottle of moisturizer, smearing it over your face. Half the day you've spent prepping yourself. Everything has to be perfect. Andy is always certain of that. 

You snap the cap shut and peruse the rest of the basket. He thought of everything. New soaps, wax, perfume, and all sorts of goodies. You didn't need it all but he insisted. 

Everything about Andy Barber is pristine and tidy. His house not least of his carefully curated existence. So it is that you often feel as if you don't quite fit it, even when he tells you the opposite. 

Your phone vibes and you look down at the screen as the notification flashes, 'good girl.' 

Your lashes bat and you giggle thinly. You've never done anything like this. You struggle to get a precise grip on the tweezers and have to still your hand with the other. This is wild! 

You rub your thighs together and strike hotter the flame of your anticipation. As much as the whole thing has you uncertain, it has you alight. You steady yourself and lean into the mirror, just a few stray hairs. It shouldn't matter, it'll be dark, right? 

Your phone goes again. You pull back and glance down. You trade the tweezers for the cell and press your lips together. 

'Did you find your surprise?' 

You look up and search your expression. Surprise? You lower your brow and peer around the bathroom. There's more? 

'Bedroom' his next message comes bluntly. 

You chew your lip and leave the mirror behind. You go down to the main bedroom and ease through the door. The room still smells of his cologne. The whole place is drenched in him, meanwhile most people wouldn't guess at a glance that you lived there too. 

You see it on the bed. White silk and lace. The lingerie is sheer enough that you may as well forego it. You near and touch the scalloped hem. You know it must be expensive, funny how so little fabric can be worth so much. 

You step back and take a picture. You send it to Andy and wait, your thumb between your teeth. He replies. 

'Put it on.' 

His blunt orders add to the thrum coursing through you already. It seems he's already in character. You need to get yourself together and do your part. 

'Yes, sir.' 

You set the phone on the corner of the mattress and trade your bathroom for the lingerie. The thong, while high-waisted has you on full display. Not ass, no crotch, just lace straps that trim your thighs and bottom. The top is an open teddy with cups that do nothing to censor your pert nipples. Just wearing it sends a thrill through you. 

You take the phone and return to the bathroom. You use the full-length mirror to frame your reflection with the lens. You snap a few pics and sift through for the best one. You hesitate before you tap the little arrow. You're a mess of paranoia and lust; you shouldn't send photos like this and yet you can't help yourself. 

You wait for his reply. Wait and wait and wait. You have to stop yourself from staring at the phone, knowing that your hyperfocus will only slow time. You cross to the counter and place the phone near the edge. 

Your attention is drawn to the sheer fabric acrosd your chest. You can't suppress the moan that leaks from you. You can feel how excited you already are but your eagerness might just get in the way of the whole thing. 

You sigh and the buzz draws you back from your anxiety. You read the message, almost disappointed. 

'Midnight.' 

That's it. That's all he has to say. Was the pic not good enough? Is this part of the roleplay? You don't know. 

As ever, Andy has you guessing at what he really wants. Hopefully this time, you get it right. 

💕

10:47pm. You’re wired. You’re trying to settle down. You have freshly laundered bedding and a glass of wine; all the perfect ingredients to lull you to sleep. That’s all you need to do. Fall asleep. 

Yet knowing what’s coming won’t let your mind stop. Ugh, your heart is racing again. You need to finish the wine. You push yourself up and have another gulp. You lay in the glow of your phone, a Get Ready With Me playing on low volume. Usually this all works. 

Not tonight. You’re too buzzy. Too frazzled. Too eager! 

You empty the glass and lay back down. You were generous, filling the wide body of the glass to the halfway point. At least two regular glasses worth.  

Your head meets the pillow and you start to feel it. The acidic burn spreads through your veins and you sink into the soft sheets. You turn your head to watch the small screen of your phone, vision slowly hazing as the contoured woman applies her lip liner expertly. 

Your eyelids cling and start to itch. Your heady is swishy, your tummy too, and your limbs weaken. It’s working. You try not to think too much about it, not wanting to counteract the alcohol with your self-awareness. 

You roll onto your side and drift into a half-conscious daze. Your brain swirls and your blood burns hot. Your breathing slows and piques only when your rouse, glancing at your phone as a new video plays. The time stamps into your vision; 11:25. 

You curl your shoulders inward, more tired than anxious now, and slip back into your tipsy stupour. The screen is just a glow on the other side of your eyelids and the audio a scratch in your ears. It fades beneath the even ebb and flow of your quiet snores. 

As the light fades out and the sound dwindles to nothing but the still of night, you wake again. Your eyes open to the darkness. You’re alone. Confused. 

You feel around on the bed for your phone. It must have timed out or the battery died. You don’t find it. Instead, your wrist is trapped in a strong grip and dragged away from the duvet. You gasp and remember what’s going on. It’s starting. He’s there. 

“Ah, ah,” comes the grizzled tut as your other arm is seized and your hands are brought together above your head. 

Andy’s shadowy figure straddles you, pinning you to the mattress as you squirm. You let out a squeak and he hushes you. You still and arch your back, trying to push your chest up. 

“Please, who are you?” You whine, doing your best to play into the scenario. “Please, my husband will be home soon--” 

He shushes you again, holding your wrists together as he leans back to reach behind him. You can hardly see through the dark and your foggy tipsiness. The curtains have been drawn, obscuring the room to fuzzy lines and pulsing shadows. 

He hooks something around your arm; a leather cuff, then secures your other wrist. He keeps your arms up and reaches behind the mattress. He attaches the wring between the cuffs to some unseen hook. Where did that come from? 

You writhe as he stares down at you. You squint back at him, trying to see through the dim. Something feels off. He’s so quiet and forceful. It must be part of the roleplay but it just doesn’t feel like him. He feels like a stranger. 

He backs off of you, peeling back the duvet to drop it on the floor. He prowls along the foot of the bed and you kick your feet, whimpering as you strain against the cuffs. You keep forgetting it’s a game. You have to play your part too. 

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you beg. 

There’s no answer. Andy continues to pace, back and forth, back and forth. He's really transformed. Where he would usually have his hands on his hips, he has them folded behind him, shoulders squared, his steps lighter. 

He stops and lets out a willowy rasp. He unzips his jacket, slipping off the sleeves slowly, deliberately. You lift your head as you try to see him clearer. Did he change? He must have dressed up too. 

Then he pulls his shirt over his head and huffs out again, a growl catching in his throat. He drops the shirt with his jacket and the duvet. Andy never leaves a garment outside the closet or hamper but this isn’t Andy, remember? This is an intruder! And you’re the helpless housewife. 

You nearly moan at the thought. Something about it is so hot even if it makes you a bit squidgy too. You tug again on your wrists as you hear his zipper slice through the din. 

“Please--” you beg. 

He kicks the footboard and the loud bang silences you. You can’t help the pathetic noise that trickles from your tongue and you swallow. He’s doing good. It feels so real. 

He continues to undress. Your heartbeat picks up as you wait for him to really start. He bends to pick something up then climbs over the footboard onto the bed. For a moment, you wince. His silhouette is slimmer. Or seems so. The difference is so minuscule it might be your wine-laced brain playing tricks. 

He catches your kicking feet and pushes your legs wide. He trails his hands up them, a piece of fabric tickling beneath his left palm, and firmly hooks them around him as he moves between them. He stops at your pelvis, his rigid length hovering over you. He stretches the black cloth across your eyes, blotting out what little sight you have. He knots the band behind your head and you gasp. 

He traces along your cheeks and your jawline, as if he can see you through the dark, as if he’s learning you by touch. His fingertips dance down your throat and across your shoulders. You feel fragile as he toys with the strap of the lingerie and feels along the flimsy cups, circling his thumbs around your nipples as they pebble beneath the sheer silk. 

He gropes you and growls. The noise is guttural and raw. It flutters into your core and has you twitching. He pushes his knees against your cunt, moving so the friction flurries in your clit. You babble and raise your chest, hungry for his touch. 

He flicks your nipples and his hands crawl onward, down your torso, doting on the soft flesh of your stomach, and framing your hips as he draws back on his knees. He snarls and bends over you, bowing as he grips you tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you whine as you feel his hot breath against your folds. 

He nuzzles along the edges of the panties, growling as he does, squeezing your harder, then at once, buries his nose in your cunt. He wiggles his head and drags the tip of his nose up over your clit and swipes his tongue up to further set you aflame. You moan and curve your back, planting your heels as you urge him on. 

He delves into you, lapping and licking, suckling and swirling. His arm reaches up and he kneads your chest, blindly pulling the lingerie under one tis. He pinches as you cry out and he rolls your clit between his teeth. You puff out shallow breaths, swept up in the sensations. 

This is so different. Unlike he’s ever been before. He’s almost feral in how he touches you, how he feels you, how it seems he wants to consume you. There’s something else different, something strange you can’t place.  

Did he shave? You can’t tell, It must be the wine. His cheeks feel bare against your thighs and yet you swear you feel that scratchy tickle against your cunt. You don’t think about it; it’s all too much to focus. 

You squeal as you cum, spasming into his face as he drinks up your orgasm. You’re heaving and hollow as he doesn’t let up. He laps at you until you’re begging him to stop. Until you’re quaking, nearly sobbing in overwrought pleasure. Until you have a second, a third, and a fourth. 

Your slickness smears over his face and across your thighs. As he parts, his breath is humid, and you can smell the sweet scent of your release. You shiver as he raises himself up and the bed jostles. He snarls and slaps your thighs, squeezing until you whimper. 

He shifts and slides a hand under your leg. He flips you onto your stomach so your arms twist and your face is buried in the pillow. You pant into the linen as he smacks your ass with both hands and growls as he fondles you. You murmur as his touch sends tendrils down your legs and up your back. 

He grips your hips once more and raises your ass. Oh my god. It’s only a few times you’ve done it like this, often Andy prefers you on your back. He says he likes to see you.  

He pulls you back against him, his length resting between your cheeks as he bends over you. He inhales the scent of your hair and snarls against your crown. He reaches down to feel between your legs, spreading your swollen cunt as he angles his hips. 

His tip slips down and he uses his fingertips to guide it to your entrance. You’re so wet he slips right in. He sounds just as surprised as he gasps. He sinks into your limit and you whine. He retracts his arm, hooking it around your neck, and thrusts. 

You squeal as he buries himself even deeper. He does it again; harder. It hurts. You croak and press your chin down into his arm. You feel a ripple of fear. His chest feels... bare. Andy has that trim of fur that you like to play with. Maybe he got rid of it? For the roleplay? 

He snaps his hips again, staying deep before slowly rearing back. He pauses, then bucks again. The impact of his pelvis on your ass is painful and he’s hitting your cervix. 

“Ow, Andy--” 

“Quiet,” he grits in a deep sneer and brings his other hand up to smother your mouth. 

He leans his weight on you, your neck and shoulders aching from the angle of your spine. He dips into you again, again, again. Each pause between grows shorter as he tilts into a full rut. The entire bed shakes with his motion. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and curl your fingers into your palms, the cuffs slowing your circulation. You huff into his hand as he continues his rampant fucking, skin slapping, bones aching. Harder, deeper, faster, until you’re delirious. 

“What’s your husband going to think when he comes home to his wife being fucked like a slut?” He rasps and nibbles your ear, “huh? How’s he gonna compare to this, baby? Your husband can’t fuck like me can he?”  

He taunts and you cringe. You don’t like it anymore. It’s not fun. You don’t want him to be this man. To be this rough and rude. You want him to be Andy. You try to say his name again but only taste the salt of his palm. 

“Keep your mouth shut, slut,” he sinks into his limit and stays there, his voice echoing in your head. His tone is just... off. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

[honey-words]

spider boy — spider-man!midoriya izuku x reader

synopsis:   you’ve talked to your neighbor a few times before and have waved at him on campus. But you’ve noticed he keeps really weird hours, sometimes hearing him go into his apartment at ungodly hours of the night. So when spider-man enters your apartment one night, it’s easy for you to connect the dots from there. 

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, hints of angst, hurt/comfort

wc: 3.1k

author’s note: I believe in spider-man!deku supremacy :)

part 1 of the spider boy series

“Spider-man does it again! Only three blocks from the UA university campus, the masked hero—”

“You’re a spider-man fan?”

You jumped, almost dropping your phone and falling off of the bench in the process. 

“Midoriya! You scared me.”

He laughed and you paused the video you were watching, a news clip from this morning. He settled down beside you on the bench, taking a sip of his iced coffee as he did. 

“Yeah, I guess I am a fan,” you said. “Campus PD sucks and I think it’s funny a spider guy is more reliant than all of them put together.”

You both shared a laugh. 

“I have to get to class,” Midoriya sighed, not making any movements to get up from the bench. “How’s Moony?”

“She’s great, thanks for asking,” you said, smiling back at him. Because Midoriya was the definition of a perfect neighbor. He had introduced himself when you first moved in and he saw the small cat carrier with a little black kitten, Moony, inside of it. From there it had been a pleasant acquaintanceship between the two of you. 

“I’ll see you later, then,” he said, really standing up this time. “Bye!”

You waved goodbye as he left, then turned back to the video. 

A thief had been running loose on campus for the last week, snatching cell phones and wallets from unsuspecting students on their way to class. Campus PD had found the thief this morning, literally on their doorstep with a sticky note that had a spider sketch stuck on his face. 

A smaller feat of Spider-Man’s, but a good one nonetheless. 

During your first lecture of the day you could see other people were watching the same video and reading the accompanying article. It was the first time Spider-Man had acted so close to campus, practically on the grounds of it considering where he had turned in the thief. 

The person in front of you had a Reddit post pulled up, and you had to bite your cheek to refrain from laughing as you read the title. Spider boy or whatever is totally a UA student. Here’s my proof!!!!

Finding the professor’s lecture increasingly dry and dull, you decided to pull up the Reddit tab on your own laptop so you could read it, too. 

By the time the lecture was over you had read the entire post (it was surprisingly long) and all of the comments underneath it, half-convinced of the theory yourself. It made some reasonable arguments—Spider-Man stuck to the surrounding city, usually went around at night, rarely seen throughout the day—keeping with the schedule of a college student. Sticking to the surrounding city pointed to the fact that he lived near campus. And the latest crime he’d solved was the cherry on top, because the alerts about it had gone out to all campus members since the incidents were contained to the campus. 

The dull lecture came with dull readings, which you idly flipped through later that night. It was nearing 1 am, but sleep had not yet found you, and even the reading was not putting you to sleep. 

You must’ve dozed off on your tiny kitchen table, Moony curled up on the chair next to you, because her surprised meow and the sound of a door closing close by woke you up a few hours later. Your phone lit up with an email notification (professors were truly unhinged with their work hours) and you were able to see the time without lifting your head up from the table. 4 am. 

The door that had closed and woken you and Moony up had been Midoriya’s, you realized even in your half-asleep state. Occasionally the sound would wake you up, but you never minded it much and usually rolled over and fell back asleep. 

This time you had to drag yourself over to your bed, and you could vaguely hear Midoriya moving around next door. What business he had this early in the morning you never knew. He seemed pretty normal, and you always assumed he was fond of late library study sessions. Even if it was not exactly exam season. But then again, he was a biochem major, you mused. 

You fell asleep wondering about this and woke up five hours later to the sound of your blaring alarm. It snapped you awake, enough to hear a thud from next door. Did Midoriya fall out of bed?

The day passed as usual. You went to class, took half-hearted notes (it was hard to focus at this point in the semester—everyone was already burnt out) came home and ate dinner with Moony, and cuddled up on the couch together to do your readings. 

This time you were ready to pass out outside of the warm embrace of your bed, so you’d done your nightly routine and brought over blankets to the couch, ready for sleep to come whenever it was ready. 

The sound that woke you up this time was much louder. And Moony hissed. 

She never hissed. 

You froze from your curled-up position on the couch, eyes still heavy with sleep and senses scrambling to catch up with your brain and racing heart. The coffee table was right across from you, and by some miracle, you’d been sipping on a lemonade earlier—one in a glass bottle. 

As swiftly as you could, you untangled yourself from the blankets and grabbed the lemonade bottle, wielding it in front of you like a sword.

It slipped from your grasp when you saw who was standing in front of you, next to your open window you always kept closed, scared Moony would climb out. 

As if on reflex, as if he expected you to drop your weapon, Spider-Man shot a web just as it slipped from your fingers, catching it in his hands before you could even register you had dropped it.

Moony, who had been very annoyed at being woken up just a minute ago, was now rubbing her head on his shins affectionately. 

“Moony,” you whispered. “Get away from him.”

“It’s okay!” Spider-Man said, mirroring your whisper. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then why did you break into my apartment?” You looked around for your phone, or another potential weapon. Instead, your gaze found the small digital clock you kept on a shelf near the door, the bright green numbers clearing away the fogginess of sleep. 

It was 4am. 

You could not help the gasp that escaped you. 

“Midoriya?”

The effect was instantaneous. Spider-Man’s entire body language changed, that much you could tell, even in the dark. He took a step away from you, back toward the window, shoulders tense. 

“What?” he said. Trying hard to keep his voice steady, even deepening it a little. But you knew it was him. 

“Did you think this was your apartment?” You were connecting the dots now. “This is why you always come back so late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, inching towards the window. “I just got a little lost. Thought this place was empty.”

“You’re bleeding,” you said, pointing at the gash in his arm as though he had not noticed it himself. “Why’re you bleeding?”

Moony meowed, as though echoing your question. She was still close to him, and leaned forward to rub her head against his shin again. 

This seemed to break him—his shoulders drooped and he let out a long exhale. He reached up and pulled the mask off, and you gasped again. 

The left side of his face was covered in bruises, his eye starting to swell a bit. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, glancing down at Moony. 

“Smart cat. She recognized me.” You winced and instinctively moved toward him when he tried to smile and grimaced at the action. 

“Sit down, please,” you said, remembering to speak quietly. “You can’t die in my apartment. You can’t.”

“I won’t,” he said, letting you manhandle him into sitting on the couch. “Promise.”

“If you thought this was your apartment you’re definitely concussed,” you said, reaching up to move his curls aside, careful not to touch his face. The bruises covered his entire left side, also the side his arm was bleeding. “What happened to you?”

You snatched your hand away when he realized he was frozen, eyes to the side where your hand was. 

“I got thrown into a wall,” he said, smiling again. A smaller grimace this time. “I’m really sorry.” 

“You’re sorry for being thrown into a wall?” You shuffled to the kitchen to grab the tiny first aid kit you kept there. It was dusty and unused and consisted mainly of bandaids, something you started laughing at a little hysterically as you opened it on the couch, in between you and Midoriya. He’d leaned back onto the couch, breathing evened out. He was lying so still you thought he was sleeping, until he turned his head to see what you were laughing at. 

“I only have bandaids,” you said, still laughing a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I didn’t mean…” he started laughing. Quietly, then a little louder until you were both giggling and suppressing loud laughs. 

“It’s okay,” he said, catching his breath again. “Can you help me get to my place? I’m used to patching myself up.” 

It took five minutes, but eventually, you both managed to get out your front door, coaxing Moony to stay inside. Midoriya had one of his arms draped around your shoulder, keeping him upright. He had reassured you plenty of times as you both shuffled out the door that he was fine, he had been through worse. Which only made you feel worse. 

His apartment was the exact same layout as yours, though a little messier, which he apologized for. There were notes all over his kitchen table, his couch was covered in blankets. You had a feeling he was prone to falling asleep all over his apartment like you did.  

“Thank you,” he said once he had settled down on his couch. “I’m really sorry, again.”

“I know,” you said, sitting down beside him. You stared at the clock directly across from you, above his small TV. “I’m sorry for figuring out who you are.”

Another small laugh from him. “S’okay.” he shifted to look at you, and you mirrored him. It would have felt awkward being this close to someone you knew more in passing a day ago, but you felt as though this entire experience had automatically made the two of you friends. A trauma bond, of sorts. “You won’t tell anyone?”

You smiled back at him. “Promise.”

You didn’t remember getting back to your apartment, only that it took a lot of convincing on Midoriya’s part. The second you woke up (on your couch) you rushed to get out the door and knock on Midoriya’s until he opened, if anything to confirm you had not dreamed anything that had happened. But before you could get your slippers on, you saw a small note on the floor in front of the door. 

Two spiders drawn holding hands, with “friends?” written underneath.

You slid it back under his door with your own addition — a drawing of a cat and “friends” written underneath his question. 

——— * * * ———

“Trauma bond?”

“Yeah,” you said, shoving at his shoulder and ignoring his fake wince. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he agreed, petting a meowing Moony in his lap. He was frowning down at her, and you had been around him long enough to know something was wrong. 

It had been over a month since the break-in incident (which Midoriya was still apologizing for) and you had grown used to each other’s company. It had started off small—seeing him in the library during the day, studying quietly next to him. Stifling your laughter when he slid a spider doodle across the table to you. 

After that, you noticed him around campus more often. You had always greeted him when he crossed your path, stopping to make small talk. But now you actually talked about things of substance. Setting up study sessions, inviting him over to play with Moony, exchanging recipes and even starting to cook at each other’s apartments. 

“Is my pasta not good?” you said. Moony meowed, echoing your question from his lap. 

“It could use some pepper,” he said, smiling teasingly at you. “No, it’s good. Just a rough night.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you said. 

“S’okay,” he said. “We’re trauma bonded enough.” You felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in his tone. 

“Midoriya—” 

“Thank you for the pasta,” he said. “I can help with the dishes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You know we’re friends friends, right?”

He nodded. “I’m messing with you.”

“You little shit!” he laughed as you set your dishes down in the sink, shoving him slightly. He smiled slyly at you. He seemed like the perfect boy next door, but he was really a little shit. And he was the perfect boy next door. 

“I haven’t heard you come back late in a while,” you said. He turned to look at you from his place at the sink, eyebrows raised. 

“You wait up for me?”

“No!” you said indiginantly. “It just used to wake us up.” 

“Really? I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you said. “But you have to wake me up if you’re hurt really bad, okay? Even if it’s just to sit with you.”

A small noise of acknowledgement from Midoriya. 

“What was that?”

“Promise.” 

Satisfied, you got up from your place at the table, letting him finish up the dishes. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry in advance about the early morning wake up call.”

He still would not tell you where he went. But the news reports the next day served as the answers to your questions. A crime solved here, a criminal turned in there. The Spider-Man news page, ran by dedicated fans, was bookmarked on your computer and one of your most visited tabs. On nights when you couldn’t sleep and didn’t know where he was, you would refresh it every few minutes, waiting for an update. 

Sometimes he would go during the day, and when you would get back from class he would be there on your couch with Moony, napping. You would sit on the opposite end and wait for him to wake up, then decide on what to make for lunch together. Not talking about the new bruise on his arm or the new cut on his leg. If he brought it up you knew it was okay to talk about it, but usually you both talked about normal topics. Avoiding the giant spider in the room. 

“All done!” he said, falling down on the couch beside you. Reaching to pet Moony, who was cuddled up on your lap. Arm muscles flexing, hands softly running through Moony’s fur. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how jacked he was. Especially when he was literally always stripping in your apartment, changing from his suit into his regular clothes. Letting you sneak glances at his back, his chest. 

“Take a nap,” you blurted. “If you’re going to be out tonight. You need to rest.”

“I will,” he said, smiling up at you. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not!” you said, huffing. “You better not visit me tonight. I expect you to kick ass and come back with no injuries.”

“‘Kay,” he said. “See you tomorrow?” You nodded and watched him dramatically sigh, throwing his head back on the couch before getting up and shuffling to the door. 

The rest of your evening was spent anxiously trying to distract yourself. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head, in the pit of your stomach. After finishing your homework and realizing it was hours before your usual bedtime, you cleaned your apartment. Reorganized, moved things around. 

You decided to settle on the couch for the night. Better place to hear Midoriya come back. 

The sound that jolted you awake a couple hours later was louder than usual, and it woke you up quicker. A quick glance at your clock let you know it was only 1am.

“Midoriya?” you said quietly, sitting up. “You okay?”

He was standing near your window, at almost the exact same spot as a month before, when he had first broken in. 

“No,” he said. Voice hoarse and almost too quiet for you to hear. 

You were up and leading him over to the couch in an instant. His mask was already off, clutched in between his fingers

“Are you hurt?” you said, patting down his arms and running your fingers over his face softly, scared to touch a bruise or aggravate a cut. A shake of his head. 

You gently took the mask from him, setting it down on the coffee table with one hand, the other gripping his hands tightly. “Want to talk about it?”

He nodded, squeezing your hands back. “Later.”

“Okay,” you said, scooting closer to him on the couch so your shoulders pressed together. “I’m here, okay? It’s okay.”

You were ready when his shoulders started shaking and he slid into your hug, staining your shirt with his tears. You ran your hands through his hair, rubbing your fingers along the nape of his neck. Repeating the phrase over and over until it felt like you were trying to convince yourself of the same thing. 

The bruises were on his side this time—no cuts deep enough to warrant him going back to his apartment to patch himself up. You helped him get his suit off slowly. The tears hadn’t stopped, and yours had started fifteen minutes after his. It hurt to see him like this and not know how to help. Knowing all you could do was help him get back to his apartment and keep his secret.

“Can I stay?” he said. He was holding the top half of his suit to his chest, hugging it. 

“Yeah, course you can,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

Moony walked out of your room with an annoyed meow. She had been sleeping, but once she spotted Midoriya she happily sauntered over, already purring. 

Once he had changed into the clothes his eyes started to droop, and you started convincing him to sleep in your room. He kept shaking his head, until he finally told you, “Don’t want to be alone.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” you said. Slipped out so easily you had no time to realize you had said it until he nodded and you were walking into your room and settling under the covers, Midoriya turning to face you, lashes wet with tears.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He blinked slowly at you, sleep making his eyes heavy. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

masterlist

[selfloverrrrrr]

Angel Became Nightmare

Warning: smut, heavy smut, noncon, unprotected sex, yandere, stalking, obsessive, kidnapping.....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read those warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report....

I woke up early today. My friend, my old friend, my very close friend Shoko was coming today in my town. She was out for her works for years. After a long time we were going to see each other. I took a quick shower and wore a floral dress. Then I get my simple makeup and hair done and went out of my apartment and got into my car.

After reaching the station I sit on a bench waiting for her. I was looking here and there for time pass. Then I saw a guy sitting on the next bench. He looked at me. Snow white hair and blue eyes.... He was just like an angel. He smiled at me and waved his hand at me. I smiled back and waved my hand back. He was making faces to make me smile and then he laughed again.

Suddenly the train arrived. I looked at the train. The door opened and I saw Shoko coming out of the train. I run to her and hugged her tightly. " I missed you so much" I said. " Ummm.... Me tooooo" she replied. Then we started walking out of the station. I looked at the stranger again and waved my hand. He did the same.

After that I went to Shoko's appartment. She told me to stay the night there but I had work next day so I told her that I would stay the dinner. What we didn't know that someone outside of her appartment was watching me from a car.

I went back to my apartment and changed in the night clothes. I went to the bed when I got a notification in my phone. I opened that. It was an unknown email. It was saying " hope your day went well.... Wish tomorrow's gonna be as well :)". I looked at that for a minute and then went to sleep.

Then it continued everyday. Every morning there was a bouquet of flowers infront of my door. A letter in it saying " hope your day goes as beautiful as you are ;)". And then every night the same email. I thought someone was doing prank on me so didn't give it too much attention. Truth to be told... It was making my day good.

But one night it goes far. After eating dinner and passing some time with chatting with my friends I went to bed to sleep when my phone dinged. I looked at it it was a email from that same email id. But something was different tonight. I opened the email but it was a different message tonight.

It says " you're looking pretty in that sky-blue night dress, you should wear that more... ;)" panic grabbed me. Another ding in my phone . " Oh you wore same sky-blue lace pantie, naughty~ you really know my favourite colour ". I even didn't know that I was wearing a sky-blue pantie. I looked everywhere in my room if the windows were open. But no...all were closed. Suddenly another message dingged. " Trying to find me?~.... You just have to tell me that you want to see me and I'll be infront of you;)". I thought whoever it is he must be inside my house. I run out of my room grabbed my car keys and run towards my car in the parking lot.

I went inside the car breathing heavily. I can't think what should I do and what shouldn't. I took my phone to call Shoko. Suddenly a cloth was on my face. A male voice for my backsit spoke " oh I wasn't in your house.... I do have a duplicate key of your car....". I fainted.

When I got my sense back I found myself on a bed of a room. There was one dim light. Then I heard that voice again " oh... You're up~" then the male figure started walking towards me and when he came in the light I saw him. It that guy... That white haired guy I met on the station.

"what you didn't expect me?" He said with a smirk. A devilish smirk. Then he started climbing on the bed. I tried to got up from the bed when I realised that my arms were tied behind me. I panicked. He came near me. He was too close to me. " You don't know how much I'm obsessed with you.... from months....now finally.....I got you....all mine~" he said stroking my hair with that sceary smirk on his lips.

Suddenly I felt his hand on my thigh. I looked at him." You feeling good?" He said smirking. His hand started going upwards." W-what are you doing, s-stop." I spoke.he didn't replied. " you're so sexy, I can't stop myself from thinking that I just fucking want you and your pussy wrapped around my dick .... and want to make mine" he replied in a devilish tone.

with that he pressed his lips on mine. His kiss was so rough. He started undressing me. I tried to protest but that didn't work .

He grabbed my boob and started squeezing it and I moaned in the kiss. Hearing my moan Gojo stopped the kiss and crashed his mouth on my breast. I moaned out loudly."Satoru " he spoke " my name is Satoru ...... Gojo Satoru, darling". He started sucking on my breast roughly. The more I moan the more roughly he sucks and  squeeze on my breasts." please stop... I'm beginning you please stop..." I begged. But he didn't stop.

After a while he let go off my breast. I was breathing heavily. He started undressing himself. He took off his shirt and pant. He was now only wearing his boxers. I can see the outline of his bulge through his boxers and there was a wet spot where the tip of his dick touched his boxer. Fear grabbed me by my neck.

His hand reached for my pantie and he ripped it off. He looked at my pussy with lustful eyes. He parted my pussy lips with his fingers and crashed his mouth on it, sucking on it roughly. I moaned so loudly. I tried to push him away by pulling his hair but nothing nothing nothing. He just continued his work. He pulled back and lined himself with me."please please please no no no" I cried. "Shhh.... don't be sceared...... You're mine after all " he whispered and slammed his whole length in one slide without any warning."ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" I scremed."oh my fucking god god god god god god......ahhhhhhhhhhh" he moaned out feeling my warm wet walls around him.

His thurst became harder and harder. I was an moaning and crying mess."you are so fucking...ahhh .... tight" he moaned out. I was screaming, begging for help, begging him to stop...but nah.... nothing changed. The more I scream the more his thursting became harder.With a few more thurst I came. I grabbed the bedsheet behind me tightly . Feeling my warm wall clenching around him he came within a minute. I was already fainted.

" I claimed you as mine. Finally you're mine. No one can take you from me. you're always gonna be mine " he whispered.

Masterlist

Give me your requests please....

I love when you give me your requests<3

[junimosity]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆Stirring Skyscrapers⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

part 1 - part 2

pairing: HarveyxAFAB!Reader

summary: after a rockslide blocks the road back to stardew valley, you find yourself stuck in zuzu city for the weekend. luckily for you, you weren't the only one at the bus stop.

w.c: 5.8k

warnings: 18+ (MDNI), suggestive content, harvey smokes a cigarette, farmer smokes a cigarette, everybody smokes a cigarette!, the most self indulgent thing ever because i need a night at the club with a cutie like harvey fr, harvey gets a little bullied by his medical colleagues, mentions of alcohol, mostly fluff w a bit of angst and once again, a hint of something more.

divider by @saradika-graphics

The clacking of your suitcase against the cracks of the city pavement rang in your ears as you dashed to the empty bus stop ahead. You didn’t have a chance to curse yourself as you ran, bags threatening to slide off your shoulders amidst the race to catch the last bus back to Stardew Valley. All you could spare was a quick glance at your watch, one minute before the scheduled departure at 6:30. 

You could’ve technically avoided this if you’d left your hotel a little earlier; there was a bus in the morning that you’d slept in long past, waking up just in time to check out of your room. You’d spent the rest of the day waiting around in a café and bookstore, losing track of the time the moment you’d opened a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. It was a great unwinding after an eventful weekend away from the farm, filled with visiting distant family and their friends at your dad’s cousin’s wedding. The exhaustion from it was evident as you huffed down the street.

The bus was nowhere in sight, letting you slow your pace as you finished the last stretch of the sidewalk. The LED sign flickered above the little pavilion, its rolling text becoming clearer as you walked up to the edge of it. 

“CANCELLED - ROAD CONDITIONS - ROCKSLIDE AT HWY 783 TO STARDEW VALLEY”

“What!?” you let out a gasp, trying to catch your breath as the text rolled back around. Somehow, within your journey from the hotel, subway, and bus stop, something went wrong. Curse you for shoving your phone in the depths of your purse, unable to read any notifications. You sighed again, head hanging with a dramatic drop as you heaved in a few calming breaths. 

Stranded in the city, all on your own. Your mind racked as you weighed the options of finding a place to stay for the night, sliding over tiredly to the seats beneath the bus stop. You were about to plop down when you noticed a figure, slumped back against the plexiglass with their arms crossed, a worn leather briefcase at their feet. 

“Doctor Harvey?” you spoke. He startled- accidentally kicking his briefcase into your suitcase, sending it rolling a few feet. You watched it roll with mild surprise, looking back to find Harvey collecting himself, checking his pockets frantically before sighing, looking up to see your expression. He fixed his glasses a little, blinking a few times before cocking his head to the side. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked quietly, a smile breaking over his formerly worried look. “What are you doing here?” His expression turned shocked again as he remembered where exactly here was, standing quickly as he looked at the LED sign. 

“I was in town for a wedding,” you answered, looking at the sign again as you heard him huff out a grunt of disappointment before correcting yourself. “Am in town, I guess. What about you?”

“I was at a healthcare conference. A med-school buddy of mine was a guest speaker and he got me a room for the weekend. Oh,” he snapped himself out of his stupor, grabbing his phone from his back pocket and shooting out a frantic text. “He may be able to get my room back, I checked out a day early.” 

“That’s good,” you responded, contorting your mouth a little before digging through your purse, finding your phone and sending out a text to your dad. 

hey, there's a rockslide blocking the highway, bus was cancelled. is there any way I can stay at the hotel another night??

You shoved your phone into your pocket this time before looking to find Harvey do the same, the both of you locking eyes for a moment before he found his briefcase against your astray luggage. 

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry,” He almost leapt over, grabbing both bags before turning back to you. “Are you going back to the city?”

“Uh, yeah, guess I’ll have to.”

“Alright, shall we?” Harvey began to roll your suitcase, leading you both back on the path to the subway station. You obliged without question, grateful to have a hand to hold your purse and backpack up. “A wedding, huh?”

“Yeah, my dad’s cousin. Distant family and all that. Nice excuse to get away from the field though.”

“I can imagine it gets a little overwhelming this time of year. Did you have a nice time?”

“I, uh, I find it a bit hard to get along with some of the folks on my dad’s side. What about you, though? Was the conference fun?”

“Ehh,” Harvey honestly said over the sound of your suitcase. “I also find it a bit hard to get along with some of the city doctors. My friend is a neurosurgeon at Zuzu General, so I found myself a little over my head when it came down to it.”

“Wow, a neurosurgeon, huh? You’ve got friends in high places.” 

“It would seem that way. Ah, just a moment,” he stopped, balancing your overloaded suitcase with his leg as he whipped out his phone, pinging with a series of texts. Unlocking it with his index finger like an old man, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, he filtered through the messages. “Ah, fantastic. Hotel hadn’t even realized I’d left.”

“Thank goodness,” you breathed, checking your own phone to see a lack of response from your dad. “Hey, this may be a weird question to ask, and you totally don’t have to say yes, but could I put my bags in your hotel room for a bit? I haven’t heard back from my family if I can get my room back yet and I don’t want to lose my stuff…”

“Of course! Harvey responded, already moving back to the subway. “I’m staying just a few stops north of here on the blue line. You good to take the train?” 

“Perfectly fine!” You relaxed, following after him with a bit of pep in your step. “Thank you so, so much.”

“Don’t worry about it, us out of towners have to stick together.”

“You know I'm from Zuzu City, right?” You laughed as you entered the station, a mild bustle as the weekend evening began to come alive. 

“That’s right!” Harvey responded, fumbling with his wallet for his temporary metrocard as you whipped out your hard plastic one. Scanning at the same time, you pushed through, Harvey sliding your suitcase a little awkwardly as he tried to fit through with it. “You probably know the city better than I do. I haven’t spent much time here since med school.”

“It’s changed a fair bit since I’ve left. Though I do wonder if some of my favorite places are still around.” The two of you crammed into an elevator with your bag and a few other folks, the conversation quieting until you arrived at the platform level, the both of you scurrying to hop on the train car before its doors closed, and headed off back into the heart of the city. 

--

“High places indeed,” you breathed, looking up at the towering hotel Harvey was residing in. It was in the smack damn center of the city, towering over the old buildings and many other skyscrapers like it. 

Harvey laughed a little nervously, walking into the hotel and wheeling up to the front desk, you trailing behind him closely. He began to speak with the desk clerk, explaining the situation and needing a new card, as you turned around and took in the grand lobby. The ceiling, at least ten floors up, had a gigantic warm chandelier hanging, illuminating the elevators that disappeared far past where the lobby’s center ended. Finely dressed people moved around you, some shaking hands or drinking at the large, dimly lit bar, others conversing with affiliates and investors. You brought your hand across your torso, suddenly aware of how you were presented alongside Harvey. 

“Of course, doctor,” the clerk said, quickly typing away before scanning two cards, handing them to him in a little sleeve. “Do you need help with your bags?”

“No, we’re alright, thank you.” Harvey confirmed before turning back to you with a smile. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way,” you beckoned him, Harvey nodding before setting off to the glass elevators with your bag in hand. Walking into the first available one, you looked out, taking in a little breath as the elevator began to zip up hastily. Light flashed over your face as you broke into the next section of the hotel. “What floor are you on?”

“Fiftieth, “ Harvey sputtered, urging you to turn to see him almost pressed up against the doors, facing the wall instead of the overlook. 

“Oh, right,” you moved to him, patting a comforting hand on his shoulder as you felt the elevator slow, standing next to him up against the door. He looked over at you slightly, unsure and ungrounded, letting loose a little breath to see you right beside him with a smile. 

“Here we are,” he loosened a little, stepping out onto the floor the moment the door gave enough way for the width of his leg. You followed him again, curving around the side of the building until you reached a room at the end of a hall. He scanned the key quickly, opening the door for you to walk in ahead of him. 

You gasped immediately, letting out a laugh of disbelief. 

In all your years in the city, you’d never seen such a thorough view of your hometown. His room was on the corner of the building, two walls entirely made of floor to ceiling windows, a modern king sized bed taking up the entire center of the room. You dropped your bags as you approached the window, hands falling behind your back so as not to touch the glass. You could see the street below, cars and people moving like the minnows in the river back in the valley. From up here, the two places seemed almost equally peaceful. 

Harvey didn’t dare approach nearly as close to the window as you, instead lifting his briefcase onto the side of the bed and taking a seat. 

“Neurosurgeons sure have an interesting way of helping out a friend,” you spoke, nearly pressing your cheek up against the window to try and see the neighborhood you lived in before. 

“It’s definitely a change of pace,” He laughed as you flashed your head the other way, looking to try and find the mountain peak from the valley that overlooked the city. You couldn’t see past the immense light pollution, but it brought you a sense of peace knowing it was there. You didn’t look back as you heard his phone start ringing, only flashing him a nod when he excused himself to the other side of the room to take the call. 

“Hey, Dave,” he said giddily, “Yeah, I made it back. Funniest thing, I ran into one of my close friends from the Valley at the bus stop-” you could hear his friend cut him off before he continued. “Yeah, yeah, she’s a patient, I mean, everyone there is,” his voice trailed off, a hint of defeat sounding. You turned around to find him running a hand over his mustache anxiously. 

“Sure, of course, thank you! I’ll see you in a bit.” He hung up, sucking his lips in for a moment before coming back to your side of the room. “Dave’s- my friend from college- Dave’s invited us for dinner at a place down the street from here, on him.”

“Oh! That’s certainly generous,” you guffawed. 

“He’s, uh, he’s kinda just like that. Would you like to join?”

“Of course, I don’t really have anything else to wear except the dress I brought for the wedding…” you trailed off, looking down at your rather casual clothes, jeans and a light jacket with some pretty basic boots. 

“I’ve pretty much just got the clothes on my back,” Harvey coincided and gestured to himself, wearing the same green coat and red tie you correlated directly to his image. “Besides, you look quite nice.”

You laughed at him, even his regular clothes looking a significant step nicer than yours. Waving him off, you grabbed for your purse and headed to the door, holding it open for him as he grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone, giving you a goofy bow as he passed you. 

You stood right next to him again on the elevator ride down, letting him step out first as he quickly found his long time friend, clad in a fine tailored sports jacket, loitering beneath the behemoth chandelier. 

“Harv!” He called out, grabbing Harvey’s hand and landed a pat on his back. “I’m glad you didn’t get to run off without me getting to see you outside of the conference. And this must be?” Dave gestured to you, your hand firmly gripping his in a precise handshake. 

“(Y/N), I’m a good friend of Harvey’s.”

“Whoa there,” Dave flexed his hand, looking at Harvey with a laugh as he shook it. “Mighty handshake for such a sweet young thing.”

Your stomach recoiled as you forced out a polite laugh, teeth baring in a creepy smile. 

Harvey mimicked your laugh, Dave’s behavior clearly unexpected. 

“(Y/N) here is our local farmer. She provides the entire valley with a majority of our food.”

“Oh, so it was you that- oh, I’ve heard about you before!” Dave cut himself off, shaking a finger at you. “C’mon, I’ve got a reservation just down the block.”

Dave quite literally yapped at the two of you as you made the short trek down the street and around a corner, ducking into a dark spot beneath some very clean burgundy awnings. 

“You’re gonna love this place, it’s super neat, excellent wine menu and the staff and I are super familiar-”

“(Y/N)?!” A voice called out as soon as you broke the threshold inside. Dave stepped back, revealing the hostess at the front, beaming right at you. “My Yoba! It’s you!”

“Stephanie?” You tilted your head, lunging forward to give your old colleague a hug. “It’s been years, how are you? How are the kids? Eli?” 

“Oh, they’re all good, so much better since Eli made a deposit on this place. We were able to get the kids into better schools, and I was able to leave Joja,”

“This place is yours?” You beamed, placing your hands on her shoulders. “You guys really did it! Bordeaux and Burgundy pouring from the bannisters, right?” 

“Just about! It’s been a whirlwind-”

“Ahem, Yeah, reservation for a Doctor MacMahan?” Dave tapped at the host stand, looking back at Harvey with a bewildered look that he didn’t replicate. 

“Oh, yeah, sure…” Stephanie broke away, “uh, I don’t see you on here, Doctor McAllen,”

“MacMahan,” Dave corrected. 

“Not to worry, for you (Y/N), the best seat in the house. Right this way,” Stephanie led your entourage to the back, Dave cutting you off to be first to the curved booth. You fell a little as he pushed forward, feeling Harvey’s hand against your back to keep you propped up. You smiled at him sheepishly before shuffling into the booth, finding yourself in the middle of the two old friends. 

“We’ve got a couple of reservations coming in later, so I might not be able to sit and chat with you. Do you still have the same number?”

“I sure do!” You responded, grabbing the menus from her hands and placing them in front of your party. 

“I’d love to come and visit your farm sometime. You’ve impressed us back here in the city, and we’d love to expand our wine list to include some local growers.”

“It would be an honor, Steph. Don’t worry about us here, enjoy your shift!”

Stephanie shot you a wink before heading back to the front, just in time to greet a new customer. 

“So, you used to work for Joja?” Dave began, tucking his napkin into his well-ironed shirt. “How’d you end up slumming it in the boonies?”

“My grandfather left me his farm after he passed,” you responded politely, electing to ignore the choice of words as Harvey began to pour water into your cups from the crystal carafe on the table.

“She’s got a pretty insane production out there. Acres and acres of diversified vegetables, the happiest animals, not to mention the vineyard and flowers,” Harvey began, making you blush a little at the sudden praise. 

“Yeah, yeah, about that,” Dave cut him off. “Aren’t you the one who ended up damaging Joja’s reputation on the coast? I’ve heard they’ve closed, like, three or four major supermarkets.”

“I wouldn’t say I instigated the boycott, but a boycott did take place. I supply most of the food to the community these days, working with some small scale suppliers. Our town, Pelican Town, has a pretty neat general store. It’s actually right next to Harvey’s clinic.”

“Ah, the clinic. Couldn’t catch me dead in one of those,” Dave joked, filtering through the wine list. “What would you guys say about a red? I’m feeling Tempranillo or”

“Harvey’s clinic is state of the art, you know,” you spoke up with a little bite, eyeing the menu yourself just as a server came by. “Harvey, red?”

“Yes, please,” he responded sheepishly. 

“We’ll take a bottle of the Cabernet,” Dave pointed at the menu, almost shoving it in the server’s face. The server nodded and quickly darted off, rolling his eyes as Dave returned his focus to you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it's pretty nice for being in the middle of the mountains. Nothing like our intern days at Zuzu Gen, eh, Harv?” Dave laughed. Harvey laughed as well, and you got a pretty damn clear vision of what their near double decade dynamic looked like. 

“Can’t argue with that,” Harvey laughed, taking a sip of his water. 

“Ever been to Zuzu General, sweetheart?” Dave asked, making Harvey choke on his water. You turned to him quickly, patting him on the back as he wiped his mouth, using the opportunity to grit your teeth together without Dave seeing. 

“Yes, on multiple occasions. I grew up here.” 

“Oh!” Dave called out, leaning his elbows on the table as the server returned with the bottle and stemware. “I had no idea, where’d you live?”

“The East side of the city, here and there.”

“Man, East?” Dave laughed again, taking a sip of his glass before the server had a chance to finish pouring. “I don’t think I’ve ever been further east than the high street.”

“I can tell,” you muttered, eyeing a thank you to the server before grabbing your glass.

“Yeah, it’s hard to not kinda exude class out here. Speaking of, Harv, did you hear? Emma Thomas, from our third year? She got knocked up by some construction worker and had to leave the practice. She’s gonna be poor for life.”

“You mean her husband Leonard? They were dating when we were in school, man.” Harvey reached for his own cup, looking into the swirling liquid with an uncomfortable glare you weren’t sure you’d seen on him before. 

“Really? How’d you remember that?” Dave sat back, his legs spreading to push yours over to Harveys. Your eyes flashed another glance at Harvey, his uncomfortability turning into something a little more somber. “Anyway, she totally lost the pediatric surgery gig she had lined up for her.”

“Didn’t she want to be just a pediatric physician anyway?” Harvey countered again. 

“Who the hell would choose being a physician over a surgeon?!” Dave bolstered, Harvey shrinking in his seat. 

“I don’t even know the difference between the two,” you lied, hoping to take the pressure off of Harvey. “Can you explain it to me?”

“Aw, poor thing, a regular physician can’t perform surgeries, just diagnose and treat illnesses and injuries.”

“Okay, but can surgeons become physicians and still hold their license?”

“Well, technically a surgeon is a type of physician…”

“Oh, so why did you say that?”

“Say what?”

“Ask why anyone would become a physician instead. You’re a physician.”

Dave blinked at you, looking over to Harvey to find him reading the food menu very intently. 

“Get the ‘nduja fettuccine, Harvey. I’ve had Eli’s cooking before. It’s gonna blow you away,” you told Harvey, pointing to it on the menu. “It’ll pair great with the Cabernet.”

“You sure know your wine,” Dave spoke, a little softer than before. 

“I have a vineyard, so it comes with the job.”

“Oh, right. Where do you sell your grapes to?”

“I don’t,” you responded, sipping at your wine without looking at him. 

“What, you mean you operate a winery alongside all that other stuff?”

“I told you the production was insane,” Harvey sighed, placing his menu down. “She does it all herself, too.” 

“Yeah, and I’m the chief of surgery,” Dave laughed into his cup before snapping his fingers in the air, the poor server making his way back to your table. “We’ll take the arancini for the table, I’ll have the new york strip, he’ll take the endooy- indie…”

“‘Nduja pasta,” you corrected. 

“Right, and she’ll take the… uh, what did you want sweetheart?”

“I’ll have the Lamb Ragu, please,” you spoke directly to the waiter, grabbing the menu from Harvey and stacking it with yours, handing it to the server. 

“Man, you have some good taste. Didn’t think they had folks like you outside of the city.”

“I’m not from outside of the city, am I?” You smiled fictitiously. “Besides, some of the most interesting figures I’ve met have been in the valley.” 

“Oh, I’m sure they’re interesting for sure, but actually cool?” He laughed again. “I mean, Harv is pretty interesting.”

Your jaw dropped at the evident jab, Harvey adjusting his seat uncomfortably. 

“Harvey’s the coolest person in the valley,” you seethed mildly, truly only holding it together for his sake. 

“Yikes,” Dave gave a wry face as he finished his glass dry. Your hand almost slammed to the top of the table, instead opting to grip itself into a fist below the tablecloth. A gentle brush of his fingers has you looking over to Harvey, offering you a sorry smile. Bless him; he was trying so hard to avoid conflict, an apparently fifteen year long battle in the making. Your expression softened as you smiled back at him. 

“Say, where do you live now, Dave? Northside?”

“How’d you know?” He questioned light heartedly as he poured another glass. 

“Gut feeling. Super nice area, up there. Been there long?”

“Just about my whole life. It’s a lovely community.”

“My dad considered retiring up there. He’s working out of the city these days but wants to move back soon.”

“I’d tell him to do it sooner than later, housing markets are gonna be crazy come springtime. I always say-” you zoned out immediately, Dave talking into the ether. Harvey let out a silent sigh, looking at you with a pleading thankfulness. You winked at him, letting Dave go crazy over the housing market until the food came and went.

Wiping your mouth, you placed your napkin onto the table, Harvey following suit as Dave still worked on his steak. 

“And that’s why I always say go crazy when the property taxes reflect it. Say, have you considered selling the farm out to developers?”

You blinked, snapped back into the Dave portal. 

“Oh, Yoba knows I’d be long dead before I’d do something that stupid.” 

“You be stupid not to! That much acreage could get you a nice home on the northside.”

“I already have a nice home, with the acreage.”

“Yeah, but it’s in that shithole of a coastal town.”

“Have you even been to Pelican Town, Dave?” Harvey piped up, unable to keep himself quiet after having a good third of the generous bottle. 

“Hah, you’d have to drag me by my ears. Besides, you really should sell. Since Joja went out of business out there, competitors have been trying to get a grasp on some land to expand and capitalize off of their absence.” 

“I think that’s the exact opposite of (Y/N)’s intentions,” Harvey continued.

“I mean, you’d have such an easy life. Don’t you feel you’re wasting it away? Such a pretty thing like you, outside all day, when you could be in a nice house taking care of a-”

“Shut the fuck up, Dave,” Harvey stood, hands slamming on the table. “Don’t you say another fucking thing about her.”

“Harvey?” you started, whiplashed by the sudden display. 

“Stardew Valley is fucking beautiful. (Y/N)’s farm is beautiful, and her hard work created an unprecedented lack of reliance on corporations for small town Ferngill. She’s supported our and countless other communities in a way you and your egregious self-righteousness couldn’t even fathom.”

“What the hell, Harv?” Dave slurred, “She got you by the balls or something?”

With a deep breath, Harvey walked over to the other side of the booth, recoiled his fist, and punched his longest friend square in the jaw. Straightening out his jacket’s sleeves, he headed out the door. You slid out of the booth quickly, following behind and yelling over your shoulder.

“Thanks for the meal, Dave!” 

You found Harvey on the sidewalk, fists clenched at his sides, waiting for you to join him. 

“Harvey!” You called out as you pushed through the door, stopping just behind his tense figure. “Are you okay?”

He turned to you, his eyes slightly watery. Your heart clenched as his expression of simmering rage turned unbelievably sad. 

“Is that why you checked out a day early?”

“I-” Harvey couldn’t speak, lip trembling as he tried to hold back. 

“Hey, c’mere,” you grabbed his hands, inspecting the fist he dealt the blow with. Untouched, but probably sore. He landed the hit with great form. “Let’s get out of here.”

You lead him down the street, across a few crosswalks and making turns here and there, until the financial district faded into a bustling club scene.

“Wait here and take a few breaths,” you instructed as you ducked into an off-license convenience store, coming back out to find him cooling down. Ripping at a piece of plastic in your hands, Harvey looked over to you, slapping a pack of something against the heel of your palm-

“Shit, can I have one?” He moved towards you, making you chuckle as you took two out.  

“Ah, I forgot to buy a light- oh” Harvey whipped out a lighter from his coat before you could finish your thought, bringing it up to your mouth. He lit his own with the same flame, a stern look on his very close face. 

Breaking away to take a drag, you watched him closely. Not a cough. 

“How many times have I seen you tell off Sebastian for smoking outside the saloon?”

“What can I say, doctors rarely follow their own advice,” he took another drag, the smoke piling around his mouth before letting out a long exhale. 

“I’m so sorry, Harvey.”

He shook his head, flicking some ash from the cigarette. 

“Do you wanna go back to your hotel? I can try and call my dad to sort-”

“No, no, not yet.”

You smiled with an essence of a grimace, unsure of what to do with your friend in his state. Looking around at the bars and clubs lining the street, you found your eye catching on one far in the corner, music thumping out into the road. You hadn’t seen it in years, the last time you’d gone in long wiped from memory.

“Do you wanna dance?” You gave it a shot, turning back to Harvey. He calculated for a moment, taking another long drag before nodding sharply. 

“What the hell, sure.”

Shocked, and a little excited, you grabbed his hand and led him to the club. 

ID’s and coats checked, you led Harvey down the stairs into the basement, the city lights becoming overwhelmed by the flashes of blues, oranges, and pinks, smoke machine dusting out from a DJ booth in the back. It was already semi-busy, a few spots open at the bar. 

“Do you wanna-”

“Yes, I do,” he finished for you, loosening his tie as you both approached the bartop. 

One shot down, you two chatted, having to almost yell at each other over the music. Second shot, he was finally ready to really talk.

“He’s always been a dick,” he said after wincing and wiping a spare drip of tequila from his chin. 

“I want to say I’m surprised, but I don’t fancy myself a liar,” you responded honestly, leaning one arm atop the bar. “Has he always been awful to you in particular?”

“I mean,” Harvey began, trying to rack through his memories for a single good time. He brushed a hand through his well kept hair, fluffing it out as he shook his head. “Yeah, I guess he has. You don’t need me to tell you that I’m not the most confident guy. I think he liked that and clung to me.”

“Doesn’t take a psychologist to tell. I can’t imagine how long he’s been treating you like shit… It’s probably too late for me to say but please don’t take it to heart.”

“He’s kind of right, though. What kind of person gives up a life of luxury to barely hold together a clinic in a small town? What kind of guy am I for that?” He asked no one in particular.

“Harvey!” You pushed his shoulder. “You’re the kind of guy who cares deeply about your patients. You do everything for them, without a penthouse in mind. You are the kind of doctor everyone on this planet deserves.”

“Hmmph,” he responded, disbelief and insecurity plaguing his disheveled self. 

“I mean it, Harvey,” you held the shoulder you pushed, making him look at you. “We are so, so lucky to have you in Pelican Town. How many times have you helped me out alone? Harvey, you’ve gone into the mines to find me. I guarantee you there’s not a single doctor in this city who would put themselves on the line the way you do. Please,” you almost begged him. “I need you to know that.”

Harvey’s gaze softened and he let out a sigh. When was the last time he’d been spoken of in such a way? Has anyone ever said something that kind to his face, or about him at all?

“Look, let’s not just stand here and drink. C’mon,” you pulled him by his tie and dragged him onto the dancefloor, Harvey stumbling to catch up with you. 

Yoba, when was the last time he’d danced? 

Going to the club in med school was almost impossible- he was always devout in his studies, and the few times he went, it just ended with him getting stranded when Dave would inevitably end up going home with someone. 

You grabbed his hands, forcing them into the air as music played out a good few decibels more than he would recommend his patients to handle. It was a little comforting, though- the way the bass reverberated through his chest, the cool feeling of the smoke machine billowing against his infrequently exposed collar bone. 

“C’mon!” you cheered, swaying and stepping to the beat. Oh, he could tell you’d been here before. It took you a moment, but you quickly conformed to the rhythm of the song he’d never heard, feet moving freely and arms finding their way above your head. He let out a little laugh, looking down as he haphazardly submitted to letting his arms up. He moved to the side a little, clearly out of his element, but a ginormous smile broke on his face as you cheered him on. 

He let loose quickly, rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt, earning a few ‘go white boy go’s before you pulled his tie from his neck up to the top of his head, the both of you laughing with childish glee as you tightened it around his temples. The two of you danced for a whole set before the DJ took a break, music easing a little for you guys to return to the bar. 

“Didn’t know you had the moves, doc,” you panted as Harvey ordered another round of shots.

“Didn’t know you had the stamina!” He puffed roughly, clinking his shot glass with yours and slamming it on the bartop before taking it back, just as smoothly as you this time. 

“I had my days, for sure!” you laughed, fingertips grazing his shoulder. “I really meant what I said before, Harvey.”

He rolled his neck, bringing a hand up to rub at the muscle peeking from his sweat-dampened collar. 

“I believe you, " he responded loosely and loudly, licking the shot glass’s salt from his lips. “I just don’t hear it much.”

“Then I’ll tell you every day until you can say otherwise,” you soothed, breaking your gaze away from his and tapping your fingers atop the bar. He sighed sharply, alleviating an unknown pressure from his chest at your openness to care for him. 

“Have you heard back from your dad?” He spoke abruptly, your eyes widening with a flash of sudden fear as you scrambled for your phone. You shrunk a little at the empty screen, the time flashing on your face as you shook your head no. You bit your lip, unwilling to ask what you knew you had to.

“The answer’s yes, of course,” Harvey slid a hand up your arm, rubbing a small circle in your skin. “You think I’d let you stay anywhere else after seeing how excited the view made you?” 

You met his eyes quickly, mouth agape at the offer. 

“Are you sure? There’s only the one bed, I couldn’t possibly imp-”

“You could never,” he finished for you quietly, an earnest look on his face. 

You opened your mouth to respond until you heard the music pick back up, the DJ selecting one of your favorite songs, pulling you out of the moment as you mouthed a “oh!”

“Go ahead, I’m gonna have another drink.” Harvey beckoned you back to the dancefloor, you shooting him a thanking gaze as he stayed back. Another shot of tequila found its way by his hand, the bartender sliding it to him free of charge with a grin. 

“You’re gonna need it,” he said before helping another clubgoer, Harvey smiling in return before finding you with his eyes. Hands in the air, head flipping to the side and your hair flying, illuminated by the brilliant colors of the lights, smoke clouding you in compliment instead of haze. The world slowed as he took the final shot, your image becoming clearer than ever before. 

Tonight, beneath the stirring skyscrapers and bustling bodies, Harvey could feel the shift between you two. He hoped you had as well, but as you looked to him from the dancefloor with heavy eyes, that hope shifted into intuition. Faith, even. Even if just in his dreams, the two of you had a night and a half ahead. Heeding the bartender's warning, he leapt away from the bar to join you. 

[gojoest]

Aiii how would satoru react if he sees a notification on your phone which is a text from your ex telling u that they saw u earlier and would like to catch up (u didn’t block the number because he was one of the nice exes u had.

i think he steals a quick peek anytime your phone buzzes with a new notification. it’s not like you hide anything from each other, there’s no reason for him to be suspicious either — he’s just curious like that when it’s you in question >:( when you’re done with a call, he looks at you, smiling innocently, and asks “so— who was it?” then waits, persistently smiling still, until you tell him AHAHAH if you change the subject, he’ll come back to it later and ask again :,) it’s just the need to know everything about you. rip your personal space, but also cut him some slack — he doesn’t want to miss out on anything, especially on signs indicating that something might be off about the way you’re feeling that day or in general but are also invisible to the naked eye unless he pays meticulous attention to every single detail and event that holds place in your day to day. he really just..leans in super close and looks you in the eyes deeply and trembles over you so so much, you’re so important to him — he can’t mess it up, not with you

as much as he tries to be cool about it, he unfortunately fails to be cool about it when he sees a text message from your ex — he recognizes the name immediately, because he is well informed about your past partners. truth be told, the source of his information was not just you. maybe he did a bit digging up here and there to find out what kind of guys you dated before him (he made ijichi help him and the poor guy had to nod along while satoru was being petty and bitter over your exes…)

if he’s the only one to see the notification — let’s say, because you were in the shower and you left your phone back in the bedroom, tossed on the bed — he will do something which he will not be very proud of, and he’ll never ever speak of it…like, deleting the message. but if he leaves it just at that, it won’t really give him any peace of mind — he needs to do something about that guy wanting to see you again. maybe he’ll stage an accidental butt-dial right after you come out of the shower and end the call before you get all lovey dovey with each other (he won’t let that man hear your sweet moans, hell no — he’ll just let him hear enough to know he has no place in your life and no privilege to see you again) of course, he will promptly delete the call from your recents lol the point is, you must never know bc you might end up getting mad at him

he won’t block or delete his number, because god forbid you figure out that something is a bit stinky about this situation >:( instead he’ll find a way to casually bring up a topic about exes and whether you still keep in touch with any. he’ll get a bit pouty and throw a cute jealousy fit after you admit that a certain ex of yours you still haven’t blocked since things ended on good terms between the two of you. by the end of this conversation tough you will be convinced that cutting all ties with your ex is the best way to make your manchild of a boyfriend stop whining and pouting :,) it’s really not that big of a deal to you, besides he’s being very cute getting all jealous… little do you know how manipulative and sly he is being with this AHAHAH

i think he will one day admit this, like years into your marriage, and it’ll make you laugh your ass off and tease him so much about it bc WHAT A CUTE SCHEMING LOVESICK IDIOT he wanted you so bad and all to himself :,)

you’re like “oh, so that’s why he looked so distressed and uncomfortable when we ran into him together that one time”

“yeah”, satoru chuckles. “why are you so concerned only about him now — do you know how nervous i got thinking he might say something that would get me in trouble with you?”

“oh my— is this why you looked so murderous back then?”

“not really”, he snorts. “i really wanted to kill the man”

[luffyvace]

Hello first of all- Omg my new fav author I LOVE UR WRITING SM LIKE ???? APBDISBRQKOZ

I found your blog form the author!Reader the anon who ask haz a creative mind I loved the 2 post sm I already got addicted to it I hope u Dont mind me requesting sm form it

Imagine Kusuo getting a notification (he seems like the one has his phone on dnd but has his notification open for his s/o in all media) of her post sm in one of there public social platform saying "I'm turning into my emo phase if this writer block doesn't move on form me " and when checking her private acc (the it's only access for him and her older friend) she is all memes about her writer block and her saying "if I stop writing I give all my books and series to you my friend" just her and overreacting to her block writer

Hiii!! THANK YOU CUTIE!! It always makes me so happy to hear I can share my hobbies with others <3 ahhh I see! Of course I don’t mind dear :)

ohh so if I’m getting this right it’s Saiki finding readers second blog (in which she mostly posts unserious stuff about her writers block) I believe I get what ya mean :}

*･..°•*:.｡:3･.｡.:*･..*°.･

Lol if feel like almost every writer has they’re side blogs or blog where they not a writer they just read other’s stuff

and to me this blog seems like a kinda funny vent blog where reader can just complain about her writers block whenever she has it

LOL imagine going inactive on that acc for weeks and saiki’s wondering if you forgot about it or forgot the password but you just simply have had a lot of motivation lately

then all the sudden you come back and your rebloging all types of relatable author memes and making posts about how ‘your going emo because you have writers block’

honestly it’s kinda ironic to him

he likes your posts on both accounts to support even when your do have writers block

cuz who’s likes a guy who ups and leaves when you don’t have motivation?

the first time you threatened to give your books away he knew you were joking but at the same time he was like ‘wait don’t give all your books away they can’t write it as well as you can 😀’

’kusuo I’m joking’

🧍

‘me too I knew that’

(“Thank goodness..her books were the only thing keeping me sane from those nuisances..”)

- In Saiki’s head

he doesn’t get all the writer memes bc he’s not an author, obviously he’s not stupid so he does find some funny

i feel he doesn’t post on social media but if a post of yours does particularly good he’ll repost it

i think I touched up on him being supportive before but yeah I’m gonna say it it again bc it truly is an honorable mention

‘(Name/pen name) has posted!’

- notification

👆💥📲

- Saiki

the emoji combo was terrible but basically that’s him about to break his screen from how hard he clicked

he’s always the first one on your posts and interacts every way possible

except comments..

which sucks cuz it boosts it a lot but he just doesn’t interact online 😭

if it’s a social media where you can see who liked, aiura and torisuka always tease Saiki for being the first like every time

“Dang your a real simp huh? Your the first like on her every post!”

- Aiura

”MAN! You don’t miss a beat do ya Saiki? I can never beat you to it 😭”

- Toritsuka

“wow..you beat me once again. The second the notification pops up you’ve already liked, reblogged and shared before I can even click on it. That’s impressive I must say, but it’s also quite annoying because I would like to be the first one to support (name) one day. In fact you do everything first! You get the books before they publish! You like all her posts first! Satire or not too!- yadda yadda yadda..”

- Akechi

“you don’t even respond to me that fast! Sometimes you leave me on read or delivered for 2 days before you answer me”

- Kaido

Saiki also sees that your friend likes your second acc too

which he would figure since you two are close

ehehe..a bit short dearest but I hope it brings you joy regardless~ 😅💞

I have much to get out..need to be more active..

[thebiggerbear]

i need your hand but i don't want to burn it - One - She's Gone

A/N: Not going to lie, this past month has been a tough one for me. I recently lost someone and it just sucked all of the energy out of me for writing or anything else. I started this back on Feb 16th, within hours of receiving the news, because I was trying to process it as well as my feelings on it all. Beau was in my mind from the very beginning because like I mentioned before, I literally had the thought "Man, I could go for a Beau hug right about now." So this took form and even though I was blocked on everything else, this became a sort of tool of processing for me. I was going to keep this just for myself because I found it to be deeply personal, but then I thought, well, what if someone out there is also currently grieving someone they lost and a little Beau comfort might make them feel better, too? Even in this scenario? So that's why I'm sharing it.

While it is personal what I go into, I changed up things to keep it fictional and sort of tell a story. So the characters and dynamics are fictional, just not the feelings of the reader and the emotional journey/grieving process she goes through if that makes sense.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I attempted the graphics.

Song that randomly came out of nowhere and strangely worked was "broken" by Jonah Kagen. The lyrics just really hit home for me.

Warnings: mention of death; death notification

Word Count: 8587

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Beau Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @illicithallways 

@muhahaha303

It was a bright, sunny day when you got the news. The sky was this unimaginable shade of blue, not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was a comfortable one. You were on the job and the slight breeze ruffled through your hair when you saw that your aunt was calling you. A knot immediately formed in your stomach; if she was calling you, that couldn’t be good. And sure enough, it wasn’t. 

“She’s gone,” she informed you matter-of-factly. 

It took a moment for your brain to catch up to what she was telling you. “What?”

“She’s gone, Y/N. Happened this morning.” Again, her tone was bland, as if she was simply telling you a package had been delivered to your home.

“How?” Your mind felt as if it was running in circles but also slowing down at the same time.

Poppernak’s head snapped in your direction but you immediately walked away from the scene. You didn’t notice the deputy watch after you and then head in Hoyt’s direction. 

“Stroke.” Your aunt was only willing to give you one word but that one word changed your entire world. It altered the landscape of your universe in a big way.

You nodded, forgetting that the woman couldn’t see you, and you felt a lump start to form in your throat. You forced your gaze onto some trees ahead and mentally told yourself that you would not cry. “Oh,” you choked out. So much for not allowing any emotion to bleed through.

“Yep.”

Once again, very bland, almost dry. You weren’t surprised, though. It had always been like this between you. “Um…did they say when the services will—”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet but the information will be on the obituary online. It’ll probably tell people who can’t make it where to send flowers.” And just like that, the digs began.

You ignored her attitude and quietly cleared your throat. “Okay,” you attempted to smooth over. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Ida. If there’s anything you need, please call m—”

“Oh, I’ll call you, don’t you worry. But right now, as it stands, we’re good. I have to get going. I still have to get to the funeral home and make all the arrangements. I’ll be talking to you soon.” Before you could say goodbye, she hung up.

You let out a heavy sigh before lowering your phone from your ear. You focused on the trees once more, pushing any thoughts away and stuffing your emotions back down. When you felt confident enough that you wouldn’t break, you turned to find Hoyt and Poppernak watching you worriedly from near the crime scene tape. You sighed once more and then began your walk over to answer the burning questions they appeared to have. 

You were driving back home on autopilot, lost in a sea of memories that forced a single tear out onto your cheek every now and then, prompting you to wipe each one away quickly. Your phone began to ring and as you expected, Beau’s name popped up. Well, that had to be some kind of record for Hoyt. Though, you supposed in these circumstances, you couldn’t blame her and you could appreciate her difficult position. She was only supposed to call Beau if there was an emergency but if she didn’t let him know that she sent you home for the rest of the day after receiving the news of a loved one’s passing, then she’d most likely be in hot water. In trouble with you or in trouble with Beau? It wasn’t hard to see why she made the choice she did. 

Beau was on vacation and you hated for that to be interrupted, especially due to this. He worked his ass off every single day and he deserved this time. He had offered to take Cassie and Kai fishing and camping, after the date passed that the two were supposed to have gone with her dad who had been killed. Kai was excited and Cassie was grateful when Beau made the offer. You and Hoyt were happy for them. Beau had even tried to entice Emily to fly up for a visit and go with them, but Carla put a quick stop to that with the mention of school and it being Emily’s senior year. To say Beau had been disappointed was a massive understatement.

And now, he was most likely spending his time worrying about you alongside teaching Kai how to catch trout and attempting to keep Cassie laughing and her spirits high. You almost didn’t answer, because you didn’t want to be one more thing he had to worry about and also because you didn’t feel like talking, but in the end you did. To reassure him if for nothing else.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he greeted back, sounding worried just like you had predicted. “You okay?”

You briefly closed your eyes in annoyance at Hoyt. Despite your initial understanding, this really wasn’t something she needed to call him about. Someone else, yes, but for you, no. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassured him. “Hoyt just thought it best that I take the rest of the day, clear my head, and come back fresh tomorrow. That’s all.”

A moment of quiet passed between you as he likely mulled over your answer. Accepting it, he then offered, “Do you need anything?”

You cleared your throat to keep the lump at bay. “Nope. Thanks, though.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who passed?”

You pressed your lips together, not really wanting to answer, but he’d find out eventually. “My grandmother.”

Sure enough, his tone softened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He knew how deeply this one would cut.

You swallowed past the lump again and forced out quietly, “Thanks, but it’s fine. It was expected at some point, you know?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t make it any easier though, does it?” Beau lost his parents back when you had worked together in Houston. His dad had passed unexpectedly due to a heart attack. Everyone had been shocked, of course, but it hit Beau’s mom the hardest. It wasn’t too long after that when she started developing her own health issues and began declining. Beau’s father had only been gone for a year and a half when he lost his mom as well. You and your unit were there for him, giving him your unending support, and half of the department had showed up to the funeral, just as they had the senior Mr. Arlen’s. Not only was Beau well liked and respected but his family were no strangers to law enforcement; his dad had served on the force for decades before he finally retired. 

What you were feeling now in no way rivaled the loss he had endured back then. He not only had lost a parent, but he lost both in a short time frame. You couldn’t imagine how you would be feeling had that been you. You doubted you would be able to stand up much less continue to function day to day like he had. You wished you could borrow some of his strength, something you could use right about now.

“True.”

Another moment of quiet filled the car tainted by uncertainty and an almost alien awkwardness. That wasn’t the norm for the two of you but this situation also wasn’t the norm. Being your best friend and having known you for a long time, Beau knew some of your history but not all of it. What little you had told him had been enough for him to know this wasn’t a topic you liked to revisit and he needed to leave well enough alone. So he’d happily compensate and regale you with funny stories of the hijinks he and his brother used to get up to when they were younger instead. He didn’t push for more than you were willing to give and that was something you deeply appreciated about him.

And right now, you appreciated him even more for not pressing you for details or trying to make small talk around the huge elephant that was currently sitting on top of you. An elephant in the form of your grandmother, an elderly woman who helped raise you who you had a…complicated relationship with to say the least. You tried to think back to one of the last times you had seen her but you really couldn’t remember. The memory was there somewhere, on the edge of your mind, just out of reach. Instead, a memory resurfaced of a younger you holding onto her hand as you crossed a busy crosswalk in the city, wearing one of your best dresses with tights, shoes, a very proper coat with gold buttons done up, and a ribbon in your long hair. You had been on your way to see a play that she managed to get tickets for and you remembered that moment of her immediately shielding you as a car nearly hit you both, ignoring the traffic light as well as all of the pedestrians crossing. You couldn’t remember the heated exchange between her and the driver of the yellow cab, but you did remember her hurrying you to safety and then kneeling down to check that you were okay. You could see the determination in her light eyes shadowed by a layer of fear as she did up the top two buttons of your fancy coat and smoothed a hand down your hair. She had protected you and basically saved your life. The memory shocked you with its reappearance; you hadn’t thought about that one in a long time. You had to have been around six years old when that happened.  

Beau cleared his throat quietly. “Listen, I’m on my way back.”

That jerked you out of your reverie. “What? No, Beau, don’t. I’m fine. You’re on vacation and so is Cassie. Kai was excited to go on this trip, don’t cut it short. I appreciate it but I’d rather your plans didn’t get interrupted.”

“I already talked to Cassie and she’s in agreement. We’re heading back. She talked to Kai and he understands. We’re going to try this again next month.”

The guilt was thick inside your chest. He had been trying for a while now to get Cassie to agree to a fishing trip with him, and he’d only just convinced her. “Beau…”

“Already done,” he assured you. “We’re packing up now actually. Besides, you’re going to need some time and Hoyt’s going to need backup.”

“I told you, I’m fine and I’ll be back to work tomorrow. You don’t have to—”

“You’re going to need the time for the services. Any idea on when they might be yet?”

You pressed your lips together and glanced in your rearview mirror. “Not yet.”

He heard what you weren’t saying. “Well, it just happened. Give ‘em some time and they’ll sort it out,” he offered gently.

“Yeah,” you muttered. 

“You set up a flight yet?”

You shook your head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see you. “No.”

“I should be back later tonight. I’ll come over and help you sort all of that out.”

It hit you in that moment that Beau was going to be seeing you in a few hours’ time. A part of you was relieved but another part of you wasn’t ready to let him in just yet. Not that you didn’t trust him (he was the person you trusted most actually) and not that he didn’t know how to be there for you, but something was stopping you from letting him.

“You’re going to be back late. How about you just stop by in the morning on your way to the office?”

You didn’t need to see Beau to know he was taken aback at your suggestion. “It’s not going to be that late,” he tried again. “I was thinking, if you didn’t mind, I could just stay at your place for the night. It’d be a shorter drive for me to the station tomorrow.” 

You knew it would be and you knew he was just looking out for you, being there for you should you need him, but weirdly, that was the last thing you wanted right now. “I appreciate it, but it’s going to be a long drive and you still need to drop Cassie off. I’ll look up flights when I get home. You just focus on driving and let me know when you made it back okay.”

“Y/N—”

“Someone is calling me from a New York number. It could be important. I have to go. Drive safe, alright?” 

“Darlin’, just—”

“Thank you for calling, Beau. It means a lot.” You meant that last part, you really did. You quickly disconnected the call before he could speak again. There was no call from New York, of course, and you know he knew that, but you just needed a second to think. You put your phone on silent and continued the drive to the small house you had put a down payment on when Beau had convinced you to move here to join him about a year or so before.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, feeling majorly conflicted. You wanted nothing more than one of Beau’s comforting hugs but at the same time, you didn’t want to be touched or comforted. You didn’t want anyone’s awkward condolences like Hoyt had offered you earlier after Poppernak told her you might have received some kind of bad news. You didn’t want to talk or cry or try to distract yourself from reality in any way, shape, or form. You wanted to just be. 

And considering where you would be flying to in the next twenty four hours, you needed as much time to process and compartmentalize as you could get.

There was no processing or compartmentalizing happening. Your brain was a chaotic mess at best. Your thoughts were all over the place, same with your emotions, and yet somehow you still felt numb and in shock. 

Not only did memories play on a loop inside your head but you could not form one single coherent thought. You had walked past your full sink of dishes at least four times before you remembered you were going to stack them in the dishwasher. You had to remind yourself that you hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, preferring your usual coffee, and you had to eat something now that it was late afternoon so you could satiate the loudly rumbling hungry beast known as your stomach. You barely tasted the food or the beer you chose to wash it down with. 

At some point, you had pulled out a shoebox you kept carefully hidden away in a closet and began to go through old photos you kept stashed alongside a few Christmas and birthday cards over the years. You studied your grandmother in each photo and whether it was a blessing or a curse, you weren’t sure which yet, you could hear her voice and even her laughter in your mind. You could hear her yelling, too, but your brain pushed those memories away, knowing you weren’t ready to deal with that just yet.

You came across one picture of the two of you. You were in high school and had just received an award. You two were standing outside of the school and neither of you were embracing or smiling too widely. One of your aunts had asked you both to take the picture, to mark the special occasion, but the truth was, you two had been arguing most of the day, practically up until the ceremony. Just one of the many arguments you both had over the years where you didn’t see eye to eye.

You dug deeper into the box until you pulled out a special group of photos in an envelope. You took a sip of beer, a deep breath, and then opened it. These were pictures of your parents, gone in a freak accident when you were barely kindergarten age. You smiled down at the photos of the two of them with a baby version of you. No matter where you were or who took the picture, all of you appeared to be happy. Sadly, you didn’t remember those times too much, the memories too hazy and existing on that fine line between reality and fantasy. You only remembered the sorrow, the pain, and the devastation their sudden absence left. 

You came across a photo of you and your mother, but this time, your grandmother was also included. You must have been two years old and you were grinning widely from your mother’s lap at the older woman who smiled brightly back at you. You had even reached out your hands to her, almost as if you had been asking her to pick you up. You stared hard at the picture, almost as if trying to remember that exact moment in time so you could then remember the feeling.

Your phone ringing loudly made you jump and jerked you out of your concentration. You placed the photo down and sighed. You had put your phone back on when you arrived home a few hours ago and though he hadn’t called, Beau had sent you a few texts. It was more of him offering to come over, to be there for you, and to help with anything you needed. You had immediately swiped the notifications off of your screen; you couldn’t deal with that or anything else right now. You appreciated it but you just needed some time…some space actually. Just until you could get your head on straight. 

You picked your phone up and glanced at the screen, surprised to see your cousin’s name flashing back at you.

Your brows furrowed and you immediately picked up the call. “Lucy? What’s wrong?”

“Hey,” she greeted you though her usual cheery voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. While you didn’t keep in touch with most of your family, Lucy had been the exception. You weren’t close by any means but her texts and calls didn’t always go ignored. “Aunt Ida said she called you today to tell you about Gran. How are you holding up?”

You shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I guess. How are you doing?” Lucy had been just as close with the grandmother you shared while growing up but she had also stayed within the family unit while you bolted. She and her husband, John, even purchased a home two blocks away from where your grandmother lived. 

“Um, I’m okay,” she sighed into the phone. “It’s sad and not the way we expected but we all kind of knew it was coming.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, taking another sip of beer. 

“I know it might sound horrible to say but it’s kind of a relief. For Gran, I mean. She’s no longer suffering. You know, after the past couple of years…”

You felt a familiar surge of guilt start up in your chest again, and a burning feeling began in the corners of your eyes. “Yeah,” you repeated. You both stayed quiet for a moment, each thinking back to Gran’s initial diagnosis of Alzheimer’s more than five years ago and how it had quickly progressed, especially during the pandemic years. 

Lucy finally broke the silence. “So, um, I was just wondering if you were going to be flying in tomorrow.”

Your brows mashed together again. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. For the visitation the next day.”

Your head began to whirl. Perhaps it was the beer and you had misheard her. Though, you had only had two, maybe in conjunction with what you were feeling, you weren’t thinking straight. “Wait, wait. The visitation is the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Luy sounded unsure why you were asking. “And the funeral will be the next morning. That’s why I was thinking you would probably be flying in tomorrow.”

“Aunt Ida told me that she had no idea when the services would be yet but she would let me know.”

“Oh.”

You could practically hear her nerves through the phone. “Lucy,” you warned. “When were the plans finalized?”

“Um…”

“Lucy.”

“Yesterday?” She nearly squeaked out.

That hit you like a gut punch. “Yesterday? I thought Gran just died this morning!”

Now you could really hear the nervousness in Lucy’s voice. “She, um, she passed on Monday morning.”

The fury working its way through your veins felt like molten fire. “Today is Wednesday!”

Lucy knew better than to answer that. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought Aunt Ida explained when she said she spoke to you this morning. She was dealing with a lot and—”

“--couldn’t be bothered to tell me, I get it. But why didn’t you call me?” The tears building were practically burning your pupils. Your grandmother had passed away two days ago and no one could be bothered to tell you.

“I-I wanted to, Y/N. I really did but, Aunt Ida said—”

Your jaw tensed and you nearly slammed your bottle down on the floor next to you as you got to your feet, all too certain what Aunt Ida had said. While Lucy was a kinder soul than most in your biological family, she also lacked a backbone when it came to your older female relatives.

“Forget it,” you hissed, roughly wiping away tears that had escaped down your cheeks. “I’ll be arriving tomorrow. Is the obituary up or was she bullshitting me on that one, too?”

“N-No, they just posted it today. It’s actually quite nice. I think you’ll—”

“Send me the link,” you ordered before you hung up and quickly began scanning available flights as you hurried into your bedroom to begin packing.   

It was late when you landed, your flight having been slightly delayed. Not that it mattered to you; if you could have delayed the flight altogether, you would have. But that wasn’t possible and neither was you staying in Helena. As angry as you were, you refused to let it keep you from doing the right thing. Plus, when you called the station earlier to tell Hoyt you wouldn’t be back until Monday, she had insisted you take the bereavement time available to you (more like ordered you) and see to your family, wishing you well. Normally, you would have put your foot down and flat out refused, content to hole up in a corner of the office and burrow yourself into work, but you knew she was right. You had to attend the services; you owed Gran that much at least.

You nodded a thanks to the cheery but tired flight attendant as she thanked you for flying with their airlines, and ambled down the bridge towards the airport. Thankfully, due to the late hour, there weren’t many people milling about and you were unencumbered from making your way down the escalator towards Baggage Claim. 

While waiting for the carousel to start up, your phone started vibrating. You glanced at the screen, sighing when you saw the name pop up that had been popping up on and off all day.

You immediately rejected the call and slipped your phone back into silent mode. But before you could hit the button, a text snuck its way through to display on your screen.

You felt bad reading the message previews and you certainly weren’t trying to ignore your best friend but you just needed some time to process all of this on your own. You had sent him one quick text earlier telling him not to come by since you wouldn’t be home. You also told him you would call him as soon as you were able. Apparently, he was ignoring that last text going by his several attempts to make contact. You weren’t trying to stonewall him, you really weren’t, but you had to go into this with a clear head. Or as clear a head as you could have in these circumstances. Wasn’t that something he always said before you two went into anything dangerous on the job?

Speaking of the job, it wasn’t that you hadn’t seen your fair share of death, mostly in ghoulish evil ways that people had come up with in order to hurt each other, and it’s not that your grandmother’s passing wasn’t expected to happen at some point like Lucy had said. But you hadn’t been prepared for how you would feel when it did and you certainly hadn’t been prepared for it to happen now.

Conflicting emotions roiled in your head and churned in your stomach. Your empty stomach from that all-too familiar discomfort you’d gotten frequently during your career. The lunch you’d eaten earlier had made a reappearance after Lucy’s phone call. You would have to get some food and soon, but where you would get that at this late hour except a greasy diner, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. Not that it mattered, either. The very thought of food made an altogether different unpleasant sensation roll in your stomach. Emptiness versus nausea…fun.

Eventually, your other suitcase made its way to you and you quickly scooped it up. You ordered a Lyft, scoffing when you noticed the wait time was a half hour, possibly more, for a pickup. How was that even possible? This was an airport! At this rate, you’d be better off taking a cab but that was bound to be pricier than the Lyft. You heaved a great sigh and plopped down on your larger suitcase, resting your chin in your hand as you waited. Eventually, you whipped out your phone and decided to mindlessly scroll through your Instagram. You weren’t a fan of the app or any social media really but Em had made an account for you one day when you had unwisely left your phone sitting on one of Beau’s deck chairs while helping him pack Pedro for a camping trip he was taking her on. You quickly got bored of any new content on your feed, since there weren't any updates from anyone you actually cared about, and swiped over to your profile.

A glimmer of a smile appeared on your face when you saw the picture Em had taken of herself and her dad, posting it for you after she saw your Houston photo and labeled it a semi-pathetic attempt at a first post. Your eyes scanned through your meager posting and the picture of Poppernak that you had taken one day near the end of your shift reminded you why you wouldn’t be working with your beloved partner the next few days. Your smile immediately disappeared and you clicked out of the app, powered down the screen, and slipped the phone into your jacket pocket.

Luckily, only a little while later, your Lyft finally arrived. After loading your suitcases into the back with the driver’s help, you were on your way to the only hotel in town. You stared out the window as the scenery passed by. Your driver, Antonio, had tried to make small talk but thankfully begged off when he noticed you weren’t too talkative, most likely chalking it up to the late flight and you being tired. Familiar landmarks came into view as he turned onto another street and memories started to flood your mind. You shut your eyes, as if to keep them out, and it miraculously held them at bay a little longer. You then settled your gaze on the back of the driver seat, refusing to look out the windows until you arrived at your destination. 

You’d have time enough to wallow in memories and regret the next few days. No reason to rush it. 

As soon as you checked into your hotel room, you immediately jumped in the shower. It always made you feel better after traveling and the flight had felt excruciatingly long this go around. That could have had something to do with you coming from Montana, though. The few flights you’d taken from Texas back in the day had definitely been shorter.

You wrapped yourself in a towel, your damp hair spilling down your back, and started going through one of your suitcases to find body lotion. Once you found the bottle, before you could begin lathering it up in your hands, your phone vibrated on your night stand.

You heaved a sigh and glanced over, seeing you had another missed call from Beau, and yet another text.

You nearly rolled your eyes, knowing he would make good on this threat if you didn’t check in with him at least once before you went to sleep. And that was the last thing you needed right now.

You slipped in your earbuds, hit his name, then the phone icon, and switched it over to bluetooth as you began to moisturize your skin. He answered it in two rings.

“Hey,” he gruffed out before clearing his throat. “About time you called me back.”

You ignored how hearing his voice immediately made your chest feel that little bit lighter and your shoulders release some of the tension you’d been carrying around the past day. “Yeah, well, when someone threatened to put a BOLO on my ass, I responded real quick. That’s all I need, this town’s cops pounding on my door, in addition to everything else.” You had meant it to come out teasingly but your voice had betrayed your aggravation. You regretted it the moment the words were out of your mouth. You knew Beau was just worried about you, that he cared about you, and wanted to make sure you were alright. In all fairness, you could have at least sent him a text to let him know you landed but you were tired and didn’t feel like talking. He would have understood. He wasn’t the asshole in this scenario; you were.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered gently and you could hear the genuine remorse in his tone. “I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time but damn, Y/N, not one single text to let me know you’re still alive?”

You flinched at the last word and started applying the lotion more aggressively. You were eager to be done with this call, with everything, so you could crash and finally get some much needed shut-eye. You hadn’t slept much in the past forty eight hours, probably stress from the job (it happened sometimes), and you were feeling it.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have said that.” More remorse.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, popping the cap on the bottle closed and placing it on the nightstand. “Well, now that you know that I’m fine, no BOLO’s are necessary.”

“Y/N, I didn’t—”

You knew you didn’t really have a right to be angry with him but you also didn’t have the bandwidth for dealing with anyone or anything right now. You appreciated his concern and him checking on you, but all you wanted to do was hit the sack and evade consciousness for a few hours. “Listen, it’s super late, I just got in because it was a late flight and delayed at that. I’m exhausted. So if we could…” You left it open-ended, hoping he’d just take the hint and say goodnight.

You heard some rustling on the other end and you realized he must have been in bed already when you called. You quickly glanced at the alarm clock and thought over the time difference. It wasn’t even 10:30 yet back in Helena and Beau was already going to sleep for the night? That was odd. Then again, he was now a deputy sheriff down and Hoyt would need the backup in case something came up. Plus, you knew he had cut his vacation short to rush back to Helena. He was probably just as exhausted as you were, possibly more so. “Y/N… You’re not shutting down on me, are you?”

You practically did a double take at the question. “What? No! I’m not. What, I’m tired and want to go to sleep after the long day I’ve had and that’s suddenly me shutting down on you? Seriously? All because I didn’t answer a few texts or pick up one of your many phone calls?” You had no idea why but that question majorly pissed you off. The logical part of you knew you were overreacting to a genuinely concerned question from your best friend but your temper seemed to be off to the races; you couldn’t stop it if you tried. “I get that you’re a grade A worry-er and everything but I’m not some goddamn child you need to check up on every ten minutes for Christ’s sake!” In your rush of anger, you hadn’t even realized just how much your voice had raised. Not until there was a deafening silence in the room and on the other end once you finished your little tirade.

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate that you were, darlin’,” he spoke calmly.

“Don’t you darlin’ me. Don’t you dare patronize me with that shit, Arlen. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare.” Your chest felt immediately tight again and tension filled your body once more. You huffed out an angry breath and decided the best thing for you to do in this situation was to end the call as soon as possible. “Look, you wanted to know I’m still alive, now you know. I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me and texting me all the time while I’m here and threatening me when you don’t hear back from me right away. That’s the last fucking thing I need on top of everything else,” you snapped.

Beau remained quiet but you could still hear his breathing on the other end so you knew he was listening to your ranting.

“Now, I’m going to bed. I appreciate the check in but it’s unnecessary. When the services are over and I’m going to head back, I’ll let you know.”

Still nothing.

“Good night, Beau.” You hung up and angrily tossed your phone onto the bed with your earbuds before heading back to the bathroom so you could blow dry your hair.

You thought over the entire conversation. You felt slightly bad that you had lost your temper with him when he was just making sure you were okay but God, you didn’t need that right now. What you needed was to get through the next few days so you could return to your life, your normal routine, as fast as possible. The best way you could do that was to keep going, not allowing yourself time to think, and get this done.

A twinge of guilt surged in your chest when you had that thought. You hadn’t meant anything disrespectful towards your grandmother or to insinuate that you didn’t care that she had died when you were thinking that. It was just…things were already going to be difficult, if your Aunt Ida’s attitude on the phone had been any indication as well as her behavior so far. If it hadn’t been for Lucy’s call earlier and the obituary link she texted you, you wouldn’t have even known when the services were going to be so you could grab the first flight out. Yes, things were bound to be difficult and tense until this was over.

You unplugged your hair dryer in a huff and finished getting ready to go to sleep. Beau just needed to give you space. Your life in Montana had nothing to do with anyone or anything here and you were determined to keep it that way. Texas never did despite your few trips back over the years; Big Sky Country wasn’t going to either.

You supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised at the text message notification on your screen when you lit up your phone.

You felt that twinge of guilt again but this time in your heart. Beau hadn’t deserved what you had unleashed on him before. He was a good man and he hadn’t done anything wrong. You were mentally kicking yourself as you hurriedly dressed for bed and snuggled under the sheets. You stared at your screen, your thumb hovering over his name, the desire strong within you to call him and apologize. You yearned to hear his voice one more time, even if it was just him talking and you listening, him giving you hell for the things you had said in anger earlier. Hell, you almost wished he was here with you so you could fold yourself into his arms and burrow into his chest, letting his Texan drawl wash over your ear as he assured you everything would be alright. And you could stay there as long as you wanted, safe and comforted, not having to face the world or how it had changed so drastically for you with one phone call.

After a minute of indecision, you decided to let things be, get some rest, and then call him tomorrow to apologize when you were a little more clear-headed. And God, you hoped you would be more clear-headed. You powered down your screen and turned the light off, getting into a more comfortable position. You closed your eyes and tried to let the silence settle over you to start lulling you into sleep. 

A few minutes passed by of you unsuccessfully getting your mind to stop racing, constantly replaying your phone call with Beau, the phone call from your aunt, what Lucy’s call revealed (though you shouldn’t have been surprised), what you would be facing come tomorrow, and everything that entailed. Almost as if it was a track on repeat. Finally, you let out a loud huff and reached for the TV remote, turning the television on. You channel surfed until you landed on a rerun of The Golden Girls. You tried to get into the episode; the series was an old favorite that you loved. But when you saw Sophia talking to her granddaughter, you winced and decided that the show wasn’t for you right now. You continued to click through channels until you found an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. The minute Marie walked through the youngest Barone’s household, giving her daughter-in-law a glare, you let out another wince. You finally settled on The Weather Channel and stared at the screen while the woman talked about the highs and lows expected for the next week in the area. You noticed that rain showers were being forecast for the day of the burial. How apt. And just like that, you knew your brain wasn't going to let you get any rest.

You sighed and tossed the remote away from you and rubbed your hands down your tired face. So much for sleeping.

The next day, you arrived at a familiar red-colored house with white trim, stepping up onto the old wooden porch. You could already hear a low buzz coming from inside as voices batted back and forth in conversation mixed with the sounds of young children running around and playing. One voice stuck out to you from all the rest and it made you tense up. A part of you wanted to turn around and retreat back to your hotel room.

You briefly closed your eyes and took a deep breath. No. You were not going to avoid this. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You could do this. You would do this. You were an adult now, you had your own life, and you were a deputy sheriff for Christ’s sake. You dealt with dead bodies, assaults, and much scarier criminals every single day. You refused to turn around and leave with your head hanging down.

As if to ensure you wouldn’t be able to leave, without your permission, your hand lifted and gave two confident raps on the front door. You could hear the chatter pause long enough that you knew they had heard the sounds. You straightened up and squared your shoulders, making sure you were holding your head high just like you did during work hours. It was a silly fleeting thought but you almost wished you were wearing your badge on your belt, having it near as some layer of invisible protection.

Before you could scoff internally at yourself, the door yanked open and there stood the older woman you hadn’t wanted to deal with. You hadn’t seen her in years and while her sandy hair was mixed with more gray and her face sported a few more lines resulting in an even harsher scowl than you remembered, the dark eyes full of contempt whenever they focused on you remained the same. 

You didn’t smile, tear up, or surge forward for a hug, and neither did she. “Aunt Ida,” you greeted. 

“Y/N,” she replied icily. “So you decided to show up for the services after all?”

You could feel your teeth set on edge but you schooled your features. You weren’t going to let her little digs get at you and you would be damned to let her see it if they somehow did. You weren’t fourteen anymore. “I did. Mind if I come in?”

Her beady eyes gave you a once over and she practically sneered before stepping back and opening the door a little wider. Not exactly a warm invitation but an invitation nonetheless. You gave her a nod and took it, ignoring the tiny snort of derision she let out as you did.

You sat uncomfortably on the old couch that you had hated as a kid. Aunt Ida had insisted this couch was for entertaining, not for young children to watch television on or jump on or do anything on really. The seat was practically as rigid as your aunt.

You silently wondered what Beau was up to now as a temporary means of mentally escaping this situation. You had tried to call him before you came over here but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little hurt and a little let down that you hadn’t been able to speak with him. He had told you to call him anytime, that he was there for you despite the harsh words you had launched at him the previous night, but the one time you actually tried to reach out, he hadn’t been available. You hadn’t been prepared for the beep of the voicemail, signaling you to talk, and you ended up leaving him the most awkward message you had ever left someone. “Hey. It’s me. …I’m sorry. Call me back when you get this, okay? Or if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I’ll understand, but…it would be really nice to hear your voice. Well…you know what I mean. Anyway, just call me back…if you want.” That had been four hours ago. And granted, he was three hours behind you now, but you knew he would already be up, getting ready for the day. So why was his phone off?

You had chastised yourself out loud after hanging up the phone, telling yourself that he was probably in the middle of something for a case that he got called in on overnight and couldn’t be disturbed. How many times did you have to do the same? You had scowled at yourself in the bathroom mirror while putting the finishing touches on your foundation. “What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N? You need to get a fucking grip.” In perhaps an immature move that you were glad no one else was around to witness, you stuck your tongue out at yourself and shook your head, muttering “Stop being such an asshole already”, and walked out the door.

And now you were here, in the house you didn’t really want to be in, surrounded by people that you didn’t really want to be around. Well, perhaps that last thought was harsh. There was really only one person you didn’t really want to see and she had been the one to let you in the door.

You quickly glanced around the room you were in, noting not much had changed since you had been here last, when you had left this town in your rearview mirror and didn’t look back. Even the scent you hated as a child was still the same: a mix of old lady perfume and stale cookies. You could feel nausea starting up in your stomach but thankfully you hadn’t eaten anything before you came here. 

Your Uncle Mason, who sat on your right, gave you a tight smile when he noticed you surveying the room. 

“Still looks the same, huh?” He offered.

“Exactly the same,” you agreed without looking at him.

Your cousin, Lucy, sat in the stiff armchair on your left and looked around as well, smiling. “I like that it hasn’t changed since we were kids. A lot of good memories happened here.” 

Your gaze dropped to the oak coffee table that still had the scratch in it from when you were a child and didn’t know any better. That was one of your countless infractions your aunt had held against you. “Yeah, good memories,” you muttered. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mason tense a little and Lucy fidgeting nervously.

You all heard Aunt Ida finish up her conversation and hang up the old handset before she made her way into the room. “That was the funeral home. There was an issue with the plot next to Dad but it’s been resolved.”

“What kind of issue?” Uncle Mason asked.

“Payment,” Aunt Ida spat out as she sat down before turning a fresh glare on you. “I hope you’re not here thinking there’s any money waiting for you and that’s why you decided to show up.”

You nearly ground your teeth together but forced yourself to remain calm. “Of course not. I’m here for Gran.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Only took her dying, right?”

Lucy struggled to her feet, her round belly acting as an obstacle, but she managed. “You know, I don’t hear the kids anymore. I’m going to go check on them and be right back.” She then hurried out of the room; if she could have run, you bet she would be sprinting towards the backyard her kids had been urged out into when you had arrived. You couldn’t blame her. You would be, too.

“Ida,” Mason attempted to admonish his sister. “Now is not the time.”

“Then when is it?” She snapped, making Mason shrink back, before she turned her scowl back onto you. “Why else would you show up? It’s not like you came when she needed help, when we all needed help with her. You didn’t visit her once while she was in the nursing home. Not once when she was in the hospital.”

Your jaw tensed and you felt the familiar twinge of guilt deep within. “You told me not to come, Aunt Ida,” you reminded her.

She barked out a laugh. “Is that how you heard it?”

“That’s how I heard it because that’s exactly how you said it.” You didn’t look away when she was slightly taken aback by your reply. You refused to back down from this one. You reminded yourself that you were no longer a child; you were a grown woman who didn’t have to take her shit anymore. You were no longer dependent on her or anyone else in this family for anything though when you were, she had only been too happy to make you feel like crap for it every single day of your existence.

The woman shook her head, laughing at you. “Right. You’re some big shot cop now, right? Too good for us lowly citizens.” She smirked over at Mason in collusion, though her brother was shaking his head, refusing to meet her gaze. That angered her further and the glare she settled on you was worse than before. “It’s obvious why you’re really here. Like I said, there’s no money for you. Anything she had left went to the payments for the nursing home and her funeral. And what she had left was pretty much nothing. So if you came here expecting a payout from her will, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” 

You lifted your chin slightly higher in defiance of her accusations. “And like I said, Aunt Ida, I didn’t come here for anything other than to pay my respects to Gran, and to help where I can.” Your voice softened a little at the thought of your grandmother. “She would have wanted that.”

The other woman scoffed once more but didn’t say more due to the doorbell ringing. 

“I’ll get it,” Mason hurried to offer and then nearly rushed from the room, leaving you and Ida in one hell of a glaring contest.

“I’m only trying to do right by Gran,” you assured her.

“Too little, too late,” she hissed.

You unclenched your jaw and took a quiet breath. “Yeah,” you reluctantly agreed. “Suppose you’re right.” Right then and there you decided that once you were back in Montana, you would sever all ties, this time permanently. You owed nothing to this woman or to any of them, regardless of any blood you shared. The one person you might have owed something to once upon a time was no longer alive. If anything, you were being quickly reminded why you had left this house all those years ago and hadn’t come back.

Ida harrumphed and continued to shake her head.

You were about to stand and leave, having had more than enough in this one little exchange with your aunt, and tell her to call you if she or anyone needed anything before the wake, when Mason returned and a familiar figure filled the entryway to the room. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

There stood the very man you had been trying to get a hold of earlier, giving you one of his warm smiles. You could see slight rings of shadow underneath his eyes that were similar to yours that you had been sporting this morning before using concealer. Exhaustion lined his face but so did relief. His green eyes that were centered on you softened slightly and in that moment, you knew everything that had happened the night before had been forgiven. He was here, for you.

You didn’t remember making the decision to move when you hurried over to him, Mason barely able to get out of your way before you launched yourself at Beau who immediately wrapped his arms around you, practically picking you up off the floor. You squeezed your eyes shut to keep any tears from coming out and burrowed into his neck, happy to breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne. No one said anything and for that you were grateful. You didn’t want anything to shatter the one good moment you’d had in the past two days.

Eventually, when you felt like you wouldn’t break down in tears and you had yourself under pretty good control, you choked out in a whisper, “You’re here.”

“Damn right I am, darlin’,” he confirmed into your ear, making you smile as you heard that Texan drawl you loved so much. The tension in his body relaxed though his hold on you did not. You felt him press a kiss to your hair before hugging you even tighter. “I’m here.”

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[obsessedelusional]

read your mind

paring ↬ Bella Ramsey x Fem!Reader

summary ↬ you’re a famous singer. you meet Bella at a event. the two of you end up spending an intoxicating two weeks together. one day you wake up and Bella is no where to be found. this turns into a vicious cycle of Bella hitting you up whenever it’s convenient for them. when you finally have enough Bella does something extreme to prove their case to you. requested here & inspired by read your mind - sabrina carpenter

word count ↬ 2.4kish

authors note ↬ I love writing but It’s hard to find the motivation. Anyways slowly working through my Bella request. someone requested this so long ago and I started it and never finished it. thank you ily (also I physically can’t imagine Bella as anything but the sweetest ever so this was hard omf)

masterlist

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Bumping in to Bella Ramsey at an a event and becoming “a thing” was something you didn’t have planned for yourself. Yet here you are, have spent nearly everyday together in one way or another since the day you met. The two of you had been following each other on social media for a while so when you to were invited to the same award show you approached Bella. An innocent hello turned into an intoxicating two weeks.

Bella was in town for press, who knows how long they’d be in town? Two famous celebrities running a muck all over Los Angeles. Of course it becomes public knowledge, paparazzi photos of you guys walking out your home get taken. Neither of you aware until the next morning when they’re plastered all over the internet.

You wake up reaching over to find the bed empty. Unusual but you’re not worried yet reaching for your phone. You have several miss calls and texts. All asking about Bella. Your best friend the first to notify you of the photos and then asking if you seen Bella’s Instagram story. Closing your messages app to open it, notifications ten times more than normal.

Bella just posted on their story, twenty minutes ago. You click it open, you are presented with a selfie of you two Bella took a few days ago. Your sat basically on top of Bella with the biggest smile, they’re smiling too. Your feel your heart drop to your stomach when you read what they captioned it. “my best friend”

“Bella?” You call out loud, excepting them to respond. Only there is no response. You try to phone them, no answer either so you typed out a text and press send.

You: best friend? really?

Only a few moments pass before they respond. So they were purposely ignoring your phone call, noted.

Bella: its better than every one knowing

You: knowing what? that this morning you woke up in MY bed and now we’re just friends

Bella: it doesn’t matter anyways I’m leaving back home

Now your infuriated, you call again no answer.

You: so wtf was the last two weeks then?

Bella: we’re just friends

You: you are not my friend and you never were

Bella: I just need to be alone

—

You don’t warrant that with a response. It’s a rough couple of weeks but you eventually move on, accepting that it’s over. The internet finally moving on from the thought of you and Bella being more than friends. For a while you couldn’t open your phone with out more than half of your notifications being related to Bella. Whatever that was is done. For good.

Or so you thought because as soon as you feel like you’ve stopped thinking about it Bella is hitting you up. Your sitting at your birthday dinner when your phone vibrates. Surrounded by everyone you love so your unsure who it could possibly be.

Bella: happy birthday I miss you xx

Your best friend notices your change in mood.

“You okay?” She asks. You don’t even respond just pass the phone her way, watching as she reads it.

“I thought you blocked them.” She says, quiet enough the others around don’t hear. You can’t form a response because you know whatever comes out will not be what she wants to hear. Knowing damn well you’re about to do something stupid. You take your phone back, shooting her an unsure look at her before tucking it away in your purse. Deciding you’d deal with it later, when you are alone.

—

Later that night when you’re alone you respond with a simple thank you. What was suppose to be a good night was filled with stress thanks to the text waiting for a response from Bella. As soon as your message says delivered Bella is calling you. You let it ring for a few moments before answering.

“Hello?” Bella says over the phone.

“Hi.”

“I missed you.” They say and you physically can’t come up with a response. Sitting in silence forcing Bella to speak.

“I’m sorrry, I never should of ended things the way I did. I need you.”

“As a friend?” You question, referring to the comment that lead to the downfall of the blossoming relationship.

“No I miss you in my life. I thought I needed to be alone but I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” You later find out that Bella is in town wanting to see you. It crosses your mind that it seems they only want you when it’s convenient for them. Against your brain telling you this is a horrible idea you agree to hang out.

It’s akward for a short moment but when Bella is the first to initiate conversation you two fall into the same feelings as before. This time Bella’s time in town is longer. They’ll be around for two months filming. Between your two busy schedules you make time for each other. Bella fills your worried mind with empty promises of being something more than just friends. You let the delusions of a possible relationship influence your decisions. Night and day your at Bella’s beck and call.

Only for the painful cycle to begin again. A month into Bella being in town they decide to exit your life with no warning. Your attempts to contact them go unanswered. Until a week later, Bella shows up to your home with some lame ass excuse about needing to be alone. They continue with this nonsense only to keep calling you at late hours of the night. The two of you only communicate and see each other on Bella’s time.

—

Eventually Bella goes home and just as you had expected to happened, Bellas doesn’t make an effort to make things work long distance. A few weeks pass since the two of you last speak. You pretend you don’t care any more, growing used to this treatment. Swearing one day you’ll find the courage to break it off officially. Only this time you see on social media that Bella is back in town, probably for an award show coming up in a few days. In the past by now, Bella has already slid their way back into your bed. You don’t dare text them first.

Your going to start tour in a week and you know that once that starts there’s no way you’ll get a chance to see Bella. Your tour is a few months long and will have you all over the United States. Eventually the award show passes and it’s safe to assume Bella is home or headed home. Their inactivity on social media not giving you much to work off of. You’re checking for the millionth time when you finally get a sign of Bella being alive, a short test message.

Bella: miss you gonna be in la soon

You read the text over and over again, only fueling you with anger. Bella was in town and not once did they think to reach out and suddenly they’re back on the other side of the planet and they want to hit you up. Before you can think about it you send a text.

You: I’m going on tour won’t be here

No response.

You’ve been on tour for a few days now, driving to your second show. Started in Seattle and now your in the tour bus headed for Portland. The first night went smoothly, exactly as you had hoped. Now sat on the tour bus doom scrolling through TikTok, waiting for tiredness to find you. Rolling onto your side and closing the app, opening Instagram. Greeted by a new post from Bella. It’s a black and white photo mirror selfie. Bella’s smiles as they take the picture. A girl stood behind them arms wrapped around Bella’s waist perfectly hiding her face in Bella’s shoulder. The caption a date in the near future.

A mixture of sadness and anger take over, quickly becoming only anger. Bella messages you a week ago about how they miss you. You don’t reciprocate the same energy and suddenly they’re publicly telling the world about this girl. You start feeling sick looking at the photo, blocking Bella on instagram. It’s not enough, so you block their number too. Taking this level of disrespect as a sign to stop whatever the two of you were completely.

When you arrive to Portland, your sad demeanor is noted by the people around you. Even when you go to perform your usual happy self is no where to be seen. At one point you cry on stage, as you sing on of your sadder songs. It gets video taped and plastered all over social media. You singing as tears fall down your face. Fans speculate what it could be about but nobody knows what caused truly your sadness.

After that hiccup it was rough for a good few days. Being surrounded by your team, always being busy, and not wanting a repeat of that night things get better. You alow the hustle of tour sweep you up so you can pretend to forget. The tour goes by quickly, last show left has you back in California. One of your biggest shows yet in your hometown, Los Angeles. You’re filled with excitement as it’s completely sold out.

Only for it to all come crashing down when you’re about to go on stage in a few minutes. One of your team members is cheery about the fact that your friend Bella is in the crowd, not knowing about your past with them. You had done such a wonderful job at avoiding Bella. Limiting your exposure to social media because you figured what you didn’t know, couldn’t hurt you. Allowing a team member post for you, you couldn’t entirely disappear like you wanted.

“Please don’t let them back stage.” Is all you say, your team member nods face filled with confusion. Not questioning your request and leaving you alone. Your sat in front of a mirror, looking at your self. So excited just a few moments ago, now you look miserable. Bella somehow succeeding in ruining another important day in your life.

—

You’re thankful for the large venue because wherever Bella is you can’t see them. Your eyes stay towards the front and rarely venture past the first few rows, doing everything in your power to not see Bella. When the concert finally comes to an end, your exhausted more than normal. Sweating bullets as you head back stage. Your team surrounds you momentarily, congratulating you and sharing a brief moment of excitement over your coming to an end.

You feel bad because you can’t be as excited as they are, eventually getting away from everyone and finally finding solitude in your dressing room. As you walk in your greeted by Bella stood there, looking as uncomfortable as possible.

“What are you doing in here?” You snap, turning your back to Bella fully prepared to leave and get security.

“I know I’m crossing so many lines right now. I have no choice you blocked me. I just needed to talk to you.” Bella speaks, your stomach dropping at the sound of their voice.

“Yeah because you were wasting my time. You only wanted me when it was convenient for you. Then your proudly posting som girl on social media. Not even a week before that you were trying to see me.” You snap, finally letting all your anger out on the source.

“That was a promo photo for the show coming out this month. It was a ploy to get people interested enough to watch my story, if you watched it. There was several stories about it.” Bella explains, a slight grin on their face.

“Doesn’t change anything. Why are you here?” You retort, feeling stupid but not wanting to show it. Bella’s grin disappears before they respond.

“I want to make this work, I miss you.” Bella admits.

“What even is this? One day you say you want to be alone, the next you just want to be mine. I can’t read your mind.” You say, sighing exhaustion heavy.

“I’m serious this time. I promise.” Bella says, looking at you. Trying to gauge your feelings on this.

“I can’t believe a single word that comes out from your mouth.”

“What can I do to prove it?” Bella asks, you don’t have an answer. Bella pulls out their phone suddenly typing away.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” Bella grins, causing you to move closer.

“Check your phone.” Bella adds. You change your course and head for where you left your phone at the vanity. As soon as you unlock it you have a dozen texts from friends and family upset that you didn’t let them know about your relationship with Bella.

“What the fuck did you do?” You ask.

“You’re gonna have to unblock me on Instagram to see.” Bella smiles, laughing softly.

“No thank you.” You snap, switching to your private account. Typing Bella’s name into the search bar and seeing a recent Instagram story. When you open it a picture Bella took of you months ago, when you two first met. Your hand reaching for the camera, in the middle of telling Bella to stop. The smile in your eyes making it known that you don’t want them to stop.

the caption: my girlfriend

“Are you kidding me?” You groan, facing Bella.

“I thought that’s what you wanted..”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you right now. The whole world thinks we’re together now and we’re not.” You say, mostly thinking aloud. You look over to Bella who’s just sat there laughing at the situation.

“Don’t fucking laugh. This is a big deal.” You snap, stopping Bella.

“It’s not too late to post lol just kidding you all have been pranked.” Bella respond causing you to crack a smile.

“No.” You say.

“Oh so you wanna be my girlfriend now?” Bella teases.

“If I say yes you’re gonna have to make up for being such a dick head.” You respond.

“Anything.” Bella responds, desperately.

“I want to go on a real date. Out in public.” You demand.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Bella eagerly smiles.

“Not today. You’re coming home with me tonight.” You smoke, ready to pick up where the relationship ended. Hoping that you aren’t making a huge mistake.

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 11- Blindfold

Marc Spector x fem!reader

Word count- 1.4k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), established relationship, dom!Marc but hints at switching, no use of y/n

Notes- This was a another prompt I struggled with to find a good fit but I finally landed on this and I love how it turned out. It was something a little different so I enjoyed the challenge. And writing Marc is just so fun! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

“Do you trust me, baby?” Marc purred as he caressed your naked figure.

“With everything I have,” your reply came in a whisper without any hesitation. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as his fingers brushed over every inch, running up and down your sides before going out to each limb and back.

A smile lit up his face as he beamed down as he hovered over you, “That’s my girl.”

Marc reached over and pulled something out of a drawer, and you gasped when you realized what it was. In his hand, he held a silky black sash, and from the mischievous look on his face, you knew exactly what he wanted to use it for. Or at least you thought you did.

Instantly, you lifted your arms over your head and gripped onto the headboard, ready for your wrists to be bound to it. You noticed Marc’s cock twitched as you eagerly submitted yourself to him without question.

“Baby,” he cooed, “As much as that idea is so fucking hot,” he leaned to hover over you once more, his lips ghosting over yours, “I don’t want to use it there,” Marc held the sash right next to your face, hinting at where he wanted to put it.

A needy whimper escaped your lips, “Yes,” you breathed, “Fuck, Marc. Please.”

Marc hummed in approval as he positioned the sash over your eyes, “Say the word, baby, and this comes off. Ok?”

“Ok.”

“Fuck,” he breathed as he admired his handiwork. The sash was tied securely so that it wouldn’t budge, but not tight enough to hurt you. And blocking your eyes seemed to amplify your lips, as Marc couldn’t take his eyes off them. “Now, be my good girl and keep your hands where they are, alright?”

“Yes, Marc,” you moaned. With your sight blocked, his every touch felt amplified, and his voice went right to your pussy.

You let out a yelp when he touched you again. Not being able to anticipate his moves at all meant everything came as a surprise. And it was wonderfully tantalizing. A low rumble of laughter emitted from his throat as he cupped your breasts, running his fingers over your nipples. He adjusted himself so that he could run his cock along your folds, and both of you gasped at the motion.

“Shit baby, you feel so good,” Marc groaned as he rocked his hips slowly back and forth, feeling your wetness soak his cock.

“Marc…” you moaned as you tightened your grip on the headboard. Even with your wrists free, you still felt bound just by his words. You did trust him, that wasn’t a lie. And you had to admit, this was hotter than anything you could have thought of. Perhaps one day you could try it on him as well… You both would like that.

But any thoughts of the future were pushed out of your mind when Marc leaned in and took one of your nipples in his mouth. You cried out as he swirled his tongue around it, licking and sucking and grazing his teeth across. Arching you back, you tried to find him without your sight, wanting to push yourself against him as much as you could without moving.

His hands trailed down your sides to your hips as he kissed his way across your chest and sucked at your other nipple. Marc rocked his cock along your folds faster, as if he were about to cum just from doing that. He mumbled incoherent praises against your skin in between kisses.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as you bucked your hips against him, “Marc, please…” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for.

Suddenly without warning, Marc pulled away, and you let out a loud whimper of disappointment when you couldn’t feel him anymore. You heard him panting closeby, but without your sight or the ability to move, you had no idea where he was. A rush of wetness ran to your cunt at the anticipation.

“Marc…?” you called out his name softly when several moments went by.

Slap.

You screamed as Marc landed an open palm right on your pussy without warning. You writhed as he did it again, making you cry out even louder. A third slap almost made you roll off the bed, but you kept your hands firmly grasping the bed.

Anticipating more slaps, you tightened your jaw. But, Marc saw that now that you were expecting it, it wasn’t as fun, so instead he dove two fingers deep into your pussy.

“Fuck!” you screamed as he thrust his fingers in and out of you.

“You ok, baby?” Marc paused with his fingers deep inside you.

“Yes,” you breathed, “Please don’t stop.”

“Fuck, baby,” Marc groaned, “You’re so fucking hot like this.”

He started his thrusts again, watching as you moaned and squirmed in pleasure. His eyes ran all over you body, taking in every detail of that moment. You stayed obedient and kept your hand where you placed them, effectively binding you without restraints. And it turned Marc on so much. But he got even more turned on as his eyes trailed down to your pussy where his fingers pumped in and out of you.

Marc’s cock throbbed as he watched his fingers disappear inside you, and at that moment, he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to fuck you.

“You ready for me, baby?” Marc decided to give you a warning this time as he pulled his fingers out of you.

You hissed at the loss, and tears stained the sash, but Marc couldn’t see them.

“Baby?” he asked as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Please,” you whimpered softly.

That was enough for him, and Marc thrust himself inside you in one swift motion. Both of you cried out loudly, your moans harmonizing with each other as he buried his cock deep inside you. Marc covered your body with his own as he pounded into you at a fast and harsh pace. Skin slapped against skin as he rocked in and out of you over and over again.

“Shit baby, you feel so fucking good,” Marc grunted, “Let go, baby… Hold onto me.”

You moaned as you finally let go of the headboard, your hands almost numb from how hard you held on, and immediately wrapped your arms around him. Clumsily at first with your slack of sight, you found the right place to hold onto him. You wrapped your legs around Marc as best you could while he continued to pound into you.

“That’s it baby,” Marc groaned, “I’ve got you.”

“I know you do,” you whispered before you cried out louder, “Fuck! Marc! Right there!”

Marc growled as he thrust into you more purposefully, determined to hit your sweet spot over and over again and send you over the edge in pleasure. It didn’t take him long to get what he wanted, and with just a few more thrusts, you came hard with a loud scream.

Moaning his name, your inner muscles clenched around Marc’s cock as your entire body tingled. Tears soaked the sash as your mind swam in pleasure. You dug your nails into his back as Marc whispered praxis into your ear, talking you through your climax.

“Fuck… Baby…” he groaned as his own orgasm hit. He hissed and bit into your shoulder as he spilled himself inside you, filling you to the brim.

Once both your highs were ridden out, Marc collapsed down onto you, both of you sweaty panting messes. But, Marc didn’t stay like that for long, as much as he would have liked to. No, he had to take care of you, and with an exasperated grunt, he pushed himself up and pulled out of you. Both of you hissed as he did so and you whined at the loss.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc repeated his words to you as he untied the sash, revealing your eyes, “There you are.”

You exhaled deeply as you blinked your eyes open and smiled up at him, “There you are,” you echoed.

He cupped your face, wiping away the tears that stayed stuck to your skin, “You ok?”

“Never better,” you replied, “That was so fucking hot.”

Marc let out a soft laugh, “It fucking was.”

You bit your lip as you paused for a moment, “Maybe next time, I can do that to you?” you batted your eyes at him.

“That,” he started, “Would be so fucking hot, baby.”