#if you donate to me i'll get myself put down

[sex-with-orwell]

HE SAID IT!!! HE SAID THE THING!!!

He

He said the line! Say the line, bart! Say it!!!! He said it!!!!!!

[prael]

Integrity

Newjeans Hanni x male reader smut

Happy Hanni Day!

Masterlist word count: 6,048 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It's a really long way to travel, and doubly so when you get fuck all from it. It's not like you were after anything ground-breaking—it's just a fashion show, after all.

It's about as close as you get to 'phoning it in' as a journalist. A few copy-and-paste interviews to accompany some snapshots of the season's latest designs. A couple hundred words, cut and run. Who wore what dress and who wore it the tightest. You could probably type most of it out on the plane without ever leaving your seat, and the public will still eat it up.

Somewhere over Austria, you mulled over that very fact.

Four days later, somewhere over Hungary, you're scrambling to do exactly that.

The whole thing is going fine. Fine, right up until it isn't. Maybe it's the sound of your fingers on the keys or the pocket of air that rocked the plane in that familiar gut-wrenching way, but her eyes are opening slowly. She's mouthing something, her fingers reaching around behind her, under the thin layer of blankets she is enveloped in.

"Are we there yet?" she murmurs, fishing her phone out of her blanket, sleepiness and all.

"Not even close," you say as flatly as you can, returning to a few words you'd been rolling over in your head for the better part of thirty minutes.

"What are you writing about?" She asks from down on her fully reclined seat that's moonlighting as a bed.

"You," you say with a small laugh, not looking away from your laptop.

"What about me?" Hanni's phone lights up, cutting through the darkness and finally making her face visible. The cabin is in full black-out since it's the middle of the night, and the dividers in first-class keep the two of you isolated.

"Your clothes, mostly. Generic fashion show stuff. Doesn't really matter. I put the names Gucci and Hanni Pham in an article and it sells itself. Instant clicks. S'like... two baits for one fish."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Probably is," you reply, knowing full well that there's little to be proud of in here. It's all surface level after all, since adding the things you know now might raise a few eyebrows. All the investigative journalism you've done over the past few days isn't exactly something you can write about. Though you can't deny it, an article about the beauty mark right below her waistline would probably send the masses into a frenzy.

You can hear her tapping on her screen a few more times, and with the silence in the first-class cabin at night, you find yourself focusing on those sounds more than your writing. Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause. Sigh. Tap. Tap.

"What is it?"

"Can't sleep," comes her whispered reply as she pushes herself up with that strange grunt you often hear her make, propping her pillow against the bulkhead and stretching out.

"Drugs not working?"

She shakes her head. "Not doing much."

"If my typing is too loud I can stop—"

"No, you focus. I'll find something to keep myself distracted." She locks her phone again and disappears into the darkness again, her soft breathing almost inaudible. Minutes go by. You manage a full two paragraphs before hearing her moving in the darkness again.

"Hanni?"

"Shh."

The slow shifting goes on for another few seconds, and in the darkness, you can make out the movement of her blanket as she slides off the chair down to your feet. What hits you next is her fingers reaching into your waistband.

"Hann—"

"Quiet," she whispers back. You quickly pick up the laptop from resting on your lap before her attempts to undress you can send it crashing to the floor. You're quick to place it on her seat and close its cover, out of her reach just in time before she slides your pants down.

She doesn't say anything, just lets you lay there in silence as her fingers guide you into her mouth. It is almost unnerving how used to it you have become in such a short time—how easy it has become for you, a supposed professional, to mix business and pleasure to this degree.

Hanni goes on unperturbed, wetting you between plump lips that trail up and down your length.

There is nothing you can do at this point but give in and just throw your head back. You grow harder under her touch and her tongue and judging by the way she grows more aggressive with her movements, Hanni is starting to enjoy herself as well. You can't quite make out her face, but you already know the look she's wearing. Can practically see it in your mind's eye; the look of wide-eyed desire as she takes you further in, lips rounding out over teeth as she welcomes every inch you give her until her cheeks cave in from sucking.

It's fucking burned into your brain. You've seen it so much, among so many other filthy expressions, you aren't sure if you could ever forget it.

Your hand reaches down blindly in the darkness until it finds the back of her head. The mere fact that the both of you are sitting on this plane hundreds of miles above the ground is instantly forgotten, fading out from consciousness and sense as she holds on, massaging your balls with one hand.

You let yourself lay there like this, fingers tangled in her hair, cock buried in her mouth. The thought of pulling her up and reciprocating is never far from your mind, but her grip on your hips is certain. This is all her right now. She's in charge.

She does not lack the pace to prove it.

Her head bobs up and down in the dark, tongue guiding you further in with every motion, lips slipping further down along your shaft, saliva pooling at your base. Her humming is growing—you can't hear it, but you can feel it. It resonates all the way through you, down the aching hardness she keeps stroking with her tongue, and even further to fuel that tension building in your lower stomach.

"Holy fuck," you curse under your breath, voice catching in your throat, lost in the motion of the plane's droning vibrations and her eager motions.

She pops you from her mouth, stroking your cock with a twist of a wrist and something she is doing with her tongue at the tip. As your eyes begin to adjust, you can see that spit has mixed with precum, dribbling down and over the back of her knuckles. It's lewd and over the top and everything that Hanni Pham, an innocent idol, pretends not to be.

"What? You want me to stop?"

"Fuck no," you whisper back, heart pumping in your ears. The feeling of her strokes, suddenly more controlled and tense without the benefit of her mouth is as jarring as it is fleeting.

"Didn't think so." With that, she brings her head back down to take you in her mouth again, hot breaths hitting the spit-slick surface of your dick. It's dirty and clumsy, messy and wet, and each time she swallows you, your entire body shudders with pleasure, coiling every muscle and feeling it climb upward until your stomach goes tight and you find yourself pushing her down, further, faster, until she is sucking what little air she has.

You are wound tight. Agonising, torturous tension pulling ever outward from your centre with each motion she makes. Every twitch of her tongue—fuck, does she work her tongue—spurs some sort of response down to the very tips of your toes.

It's a complete relapse. Back to four days ago, in the back of the car, with nothing but a divider between you and the driver. Cumming inside Hanni's pretty mouth and feeling her swallow every bit, then going on like nothing happened.

-

There's usually not a lot of enthusiasm for an interview. You have spent the whole morning being shrugged off by star after star after star. To them, they're there to look pretty. To show face and represent their brands. Answers are pre-written garbage to be regurgitated over and over like everyone is sharing the same stupid fucking tongue.

Then there's little miss backless-top. Denim jeans and a shirt with frills that barely keeps her modesty. Big, brown eyes and a smile that fills her whole face. Add her vibrance and energy and she really gets your journalistic gears turning. There's something fresh about her. How when you approach her, she engages you in a conversation like you're an actual person and not just some cardboard cut-out of a journalist.

Hanni Pham knows her shit. It's part of the training. She handles media with all the grace of someone born to do it and the energy of someone who loves it. So not only does she give you answers there and then, but when you make the request to sit down with her later and get all you need to do a whole feature on her, she's quickly turning to the powers that be to make it happen.

She should have been a ten-minute addendum. An hourglass figure strutting and posing and laughing her pretty little ass off for cameras for the adoring public. Instead, Hanni fucking Pham, you've got her. For hours.

So you sit down in a quiet little room you managed to reserve with the company card, and she's right across from you, with two glasses of water and a notepad on a table in an otherwise empty room.

"Is this going to be recorded?" She asks first, though looks sceptical and unprepared.

"Normally, yes. But I would prefer us to be a little more comfortable. I'm going to take notes, that's all."

"I like that." She claps, like there's an imaginary audience watching, even if you're the only one there. "So, what are we covering?"

"Everything. To start," you shift a little closer to the table. "Think of this being more about you rather than what you're wearing."

She gives you a little bit of a quizzical look.

"I know. Fashion show. Just, work with me here. The Gucci brand gets the clicks, I want to introduce those clickers to the girl wearing the clothes."

Hanni nods, her eyes light up a little and you can't help but notice how she is really fucking adorable. Up close, she's even prettier. It throws you off for a second as you bring up the notepad. The blank pages stare up at you—mock you. Where do you even begin?

"We met briefly earlier, and you're standing alongside stars from many industries and the lead designer at Gucci."

"Yes," she smiles politely. "That was exciting. Kind of surreal, really."

"So what does it take to be who you are? A girl of Vietnamese blood, born in Melbourne, working in South Korea and travelling to Europe for fashion shows?"

"Uhm, like, honestly?" She shifts in her seat. "Really a lot of hard work. Endless and stressful and never-ending hard work. You know? From singing and dancing, to the language lessons and the dieting and working out. It needs hard work and, well, a lot of luck too."

"You make your own luck." You nod, before jotting down into your notepad.

She tilts her head in response. "I suppose so. That's very quotable if you want. I made my own luck by working hard."

"And yet you're still young, what, turning twenty?"

"Just." Hanni nods.

"Barely twenty and making waves. Do you still feel like you have so much more to give?"

"Oh fuck yeah," she quickly confirms. "Wait, don't write that down."

"Oh... fuck... yeah." You sound out the words as you pretend to write them in the notepad.

"Hey!" Hanni laughs, and it's beautiful. It fills the room and just makes her glow with warmth. "Cut me some slack."

"Alright. Alright. So is this what you envisioned? Being twenty and being here?"

"You mean in this room with you?"

You laugh too. The jokes come so naturally to her.

"I'm happy where I am, it really was always my dream."

"To be in this room with me?"

"Fuck you," she laughs. "But, in a way, yes. I wouldn't be here if I didn't achieve my dream, would I?"

"That's very true. Then what is next for you?"

"There's no end goal." Hanni tilts her head. You follow her hand as it passes through her hair. She's studying you just like you are studying her. "I don't think I'll ever sit back and say 'that's enough.' That's not who I am."

"Ambitious. The question now is what are you chasing?"

"Is that you asking or the article?"

"Both," you say with a wry smile.

"For the article: I want to tour the world, keep improving and working hard. Release more music."

You scribble down a few notes and then click the top of the pen. "And off the record?"

"To spend a little more time focusing on myself. Time is fleeting. I should try and enjoy it while it lasts."

"You're young, pretty and successful. You have plenty of opportunity to do just that."

"Is that flirting?" she jokes, cocking her brow with a seductive smile.

"I'm just stating facts. I'm married to the truth." You gesture to your notepad. "So let's get back on the record, shall we?"

-

One delayed layover later and you're back in the air, and after your brief break to let Hanni drain you into her throat, you managed to get back to finishing up the article, so for the final stretch, the two of you are lying together in one of the first-class beds, and the conversation kept going.

"How are you single?" she's asking, while you're spooning her.

"Mostly because of my job. Definitely the baggage and constant travelling. Takes a special woman to not hate this."

"Sounds like idol life. I know so many idols who try to date but you just never have the time to see each other. We tour constantly and are always on the road. A long day of practising and comeback planning and comeback filming and comeback rehearsing, and more hours of sleep and eating to prep for the next comeback, you're always too exhausted."

"Such a shame." You lower the blanket that's covering her bare chest. Her breasts fill your palm as you caress them, gently. "A pretty thing like you deserves so much better than empty hotel rooms."

"Flirt," she playfully chastises, pressing her ass to your crotch before sliding forward to give you some friction, grinning at you over her shoulder. "These past few days, all the sex, I'd be lying if I said I couldn't get used to this."

It's a sentiment so heavily shared, that even now you're thinking about how easy it would be to pin her onto her back and mount her. It isn't easy to shake the thought when her body is practically inviting you inside her.

You're asking instead, still exploring her naked form, "How do you overcome the needs?"

"Other ways..." Hanni replies through closed eyes, her cheeks blushing. "Toys. Helps and hurts. They're no real substitute."

You run your hand over her toned stomach, heading between her thighs and gently prying them open. And there she is. Right fucking there, wet and waiting for you. Your finger glides over her lips and runs the full length of her, and she strains to contain a gentle moan. The problem is, Hanni is really fucking loud, and the walls of this pod are paper thin.

"I want you again," she whispers, and it's a real fucking dilemma.

She guides your cock through the folds of her pussy and leans back her head as she takes it. Fuck, it feels so good being back inside her. Wet and tight and made to grip. A small whimper escapes her when you are in deep, which she tries to swallow.

"You gotta be quiet," you tell her, while all but refusing to move inside her.

"I can be quiet," she grinds against you, but you're not convinced, and with a firm grasp of her jaw, you pull her closer.

"Can you?" you speak under her ear. "Can the oh-so-talented Hanni Pham control herself?"

She lets out another trembling little sound of pleasure while pushing herself onto your shaft. "I think so. All I know is you need to—yeah, right there. Yes." She closes her eyes and tries to stifle that deep groan of enjoyment.

You hush her before it gets too loud with a hand over her mouth. Tentatively, you begin moving, an aching slow journey backward and forward. As tight as her cunt is around your dick, the movement becomes easy. Dragging more pleasure from both of you and as she rolls her hips again, grinding against the motion, the whimpering returns.

"Hanni," you scold gently, pushing further into her with each stroke. "Shhh."

She mouths an 'I can't' into your hand which elicits a laugh from you and turns a smirk into a smile. You're rutting against her ass, savouring the feeling of your hips hitting her soft flesh. Ample curves along with a narrow waist begging you to embrace her. A pretty little thing taking all your cock and urging you on. It's hard not to go harder. "Need you."

"Careful what you wish for," you whisper as she tries to lean back her head in bliss.

Her tongue brushes your knuckles, and the soft sweep feels like a warm, wet invitation to probe further. A few seconds of uncertainty follows, and then her mouth closes around the tips of your fingers and starts to suck. Sharing the same excitement that has gotten the better of you the past few days of endless debauchery.

You sink your fingers deeper. She sucks harder, her moans stifled behind her pursed lips. Anywhere but here and you would throw her face down on the mattress, fuck her into a state of bliss. Make her beg for you and claw the bedsheets. Such an innocent girl, a girl who should have stayed wrapped in silk and lace, but who demands you take her, just a moment longer, just a bit rougher, and how can you refuse a beauty like that?

Just as Hanni settles and relaxes, her body is dragged into tense peaks of delight. Tiny gasps leak from around your fingers as you thrust deeper. She chokes as she orgasms, digging her nails into the arm that is holding her close, her face going bright pink. Sweat on her temples, on her chest. An earthly aroma of wet skin and hot breaths. She swears and curses the pleasure as you pump your orgasm between her thighs.

You fill her. For a while, you are one, grinding together in mutual fulfilment, breathing heavily and lost in your actions. The mess you're making runs from her sweet cunt, down her thigh, onto the bed.

The rush leaves the both of you exhausted. Hanni does nothing to resist you pulling out and emptying the last few drops over her ass. It is all over as quick as it began. It comes with a strange realisation of how natural it all feels to cum inside Hanni Pham.

-

It's not often that someone you interview not only takes your card, but doesn't immediately throw it away, and actually uses the number on there. You're in the back of a cab when it rings. Today's show has just about finished and while you didn't quite manage to snag another interview like the one you did with Hanni, it has been a good day.

"Did you get enough to write about?" is the first question she asks when you answer.

"I got a few bits here and there. Some surface-level stuff from others, but you gave me the marquee piece. I'll fluff up what I have with the spec sheets released and I'm sure it'll be a nice little exclusive."

"That makes me sound important," she giggles.

"You're a fucking celebrity, of course you are important."

"No need to swear."

"Apologies." There's a momentary pause. You let it linger on the call and soon enough, Hanni's laugh fills the silence.

"I'm kidding. Keep up that energy,"

"So, why are you calling? Usually, when I get a call it's to recant some statement or explain a misquote. Did I make a mess of something?"

"Well, not yet. But I have some ideas."

"Ideas?" You repeat, brows raising.

"Where are you now?" she asks, and for a moment you wonder if you shouldn't be answering.

"Taxi. Headed back to the place I'm staying."

"Where are you staying?" It's a strange question for her to ask, you think. Or maybe, it's not strange at all, but timing and circumstance have you considering the way it sounds.

"A hotel."

"Look to your right," she says, making a confusing request, but you look. Of course, you do. Outside the window, in the next lane over, stuck in the very same traffic as you are, is a familiar face. She gives you the widest grin, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Are you following me?" you joke.

"Do you want me to?" There's something playful in her voice, an attempt at seduction that's not exactly subtle.

"Hanni, what are—"

"Just answer the question," she interrupts.

And that's it. There's no reason to evade the truth. Lying to yourself gets no one anywhere. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Good," she murmurs, "you know, I'm still wearing the same outfit as I was at the event. These jeans are getting really uncomfortable." She pulls the phone away from her ear for a second and you hear her call out, "Driver? See that taxi on our left? Follow it, please. And can I get some privacy back here?"

There are some distant sounds from the other side of the phone. An affirmation of orders. Then her voice is right back with you.

"As I was saying, these jeans are really uncomfortable."

"Fashion can hurt," you say flatly.

"You're supposed to tell me to take them off or something. You're not very good at this are you?"

"I didn't realise 'this' is what we were doing." You've developed a stupid fucking smile, even if it's going unseen.

"Hmm, it can be." There is a moment of quiet as if she's thinking. "Hold on a second," Hanni says. There are some vague sounds you can't make out before she comes back to the phone. "Got bored of waiting. Now, keep talking will you? I like the sound of your voice."

"Hanni, what—"

"Just keep talking. Tell me what you think of me." She can't see it, but the look of confusion must be shining bright on your face. At a loss, and under duress, you speak your mind.

"Well, you seem nice." It's a weak first effort. "Very funny, a little confident. You must know you're pretty. Young, but driven." The words you mumble are stilted, but telling the truth.

"Really. You think I'm pretty?"

"Yeah."

"Not sexy?"

"Hanni, you're fucking sexy."

"Thanks," her laugh is like bells, ringing through the car. "That's better. What did you think of my outfit?"

"Daring. Not often do I see an idol go completely backless. Risky."

"Sometimes a risk is worth taking."

"Seems so."

"Tell me more. Tell me what was the part you liked the most?" Her voice drops from that relaxed confidence to a pitch that has your head buzzing with possibility.

"Nice waist. Really looked good with the way those jeans hugged your hips."

There's a long, heavy breath from the other end of the line. Something rustling and then a deep gasp from Hanni.

"What's happening?"

"Nothing. Keep talking. Describe me to me." Her voice is fraught with need, a small tremble in each word.

"Okay." That was permission, or demand, whichever is. You swallow before continuing. "Backless was a good choice. Your bare skin looks great. I'm sure those pictures are going viral already. Betting they are all over the web, all over people's phones."

"Are we close to your hotel?" Hanni strains out the question as if it were hard to say, every syllable wrought in pain.

"Close."

"Good, are you excited?"

"To?"

"See more of my bare skin."

Fuck. The image floods your mind like a dam breaking. Suddenly, she's right there, unclothed and naked and spread open. Suddenly, she's right there, moaning in pleasure, your cock lodged deep inside her.

"Yes," you groan into the phone. It's a painful admission. "Really, Hanni. Really fucking excited."

"So tell me, what are you excited to see?"

"Your ass. Love the way you wore the jeans just a little too tight. Really framed it."

She whispers, "That's all? Anything else, anything special you wanted to see?"

"Your breasts. Like what the top does. Would like to pull it down and play with those breasts." This whole thing is obscene. You're shamelessly spilling your desire to a girl you just met and she's loving every second of it.

Another soft gasp is heard on the call. It's more than that, it's her panting, short snatches of breath as her little gasps become regular, heated and urgent. "And then what?"

"That's a surprise. We're here." The cab pulls up and her car pulls in behind you.

"Room number?"

"Oh-one-two-two," you say, handing over cash to pay the driver and stepping out. "See you there."

-

It's deep into the night now, and her back is pressed against the wall as you're kissing down her neck. For a young woman who looks ever so innocent, you're quickly learning the taste of her body could have the alcohol industry aflame. She's intoxicating and you're addicted. Lips sucking, teeth pressing lightly against tender flesh.

She told you to not wear a condom, not this time. She described your first load as a waste, a sinful injustice after all the things she had done to wring it from you. So now you're back inside her, thinking only of how you're going to decorate her this time, about the moment you can't hold back any longer and cum, uninhibited, spewing mess over her delicate, flawless little body.

So you're just fucking nailing Hanni against the wall, her leg pulled up and knee hooking around your elbow. Holding her there, pounding her cunt the best you possibly can. Her hands scratch deep lines into your back, and her fingernails leave dull aches along your spine. There's something primal in the way she's urging you to fuck her harder, stronger, faster. She wants all of you, just like you want all of her.

You lift her other leg and hold her there, folded against the drywall. The steady pounding begins to churn her insides, to break her fragile body to the rhythm. She's mewling a mixture of sounds in your ear. Begging. Incoherent sounds of need. Then you feel her cunt clenching and tightening, a sudden strength to the grip she has on your shaft.

Hanni screams your name, howling it at the ceiling and the walls while you drive her ever deeper through an orgasm that's torn apart her expression. Utter beauty, sheer excellence. Her quivering pleasure comes with warmth between the two of you. She cums so hard that she goes limp in your arms. Your legs really begin to strain as you pump her full of cock, and her lips find yours again.

Your kisses are savage, the gnashing of teeth and the crush of lips. She's asking for more. Demanding more.

So you throw her to the bed, turning her over and she instinctively drags herself to her knees. Her palms run to the edge of the bed, clawing the blankets as you climb behind her.

"Do you like my ass?" She breathes. Your grip finds the firm flesh with purpose.

"Love your ass," you mutter, taking a hold and angling her towards you.

"Then fuck me." Hanni arches deep, pushing her soft ass in the air and pressing her tits against the mattress. She backs right up to you, begging to be fucked, once more.

The penetration is perfect. Balls deep inside this horny little girl, grabbing a fistful of her hair and using it as leverage. It's hard, it's fast, it's a brutal rut. A sweaty, wet fuck driven by nothing but raw need. She's too wet, too accommodating, clapping herself against your pelvis, meeting your every thrust.

It's not the time to think. Simply let instinct take over. Leaning into it and fucking her.

More words spill from her mouth. More dirty, lewd praises that have your balls aching. It won't be long now. Every muscle, straining with effort, pulls taut. It's such a fucking trip. This once innocent-looking person sucking the life right from the core of your being, bending over for you to force a hand along her spine and bend her further.

"Cum on me," she whimpers again and again. Over and over. She's pleading with you. "Please, cum on me. On my back. Cover me."

There's no further thought, no plan, no point of focus. Everything narrows down to the slick friction around your shaft, and your stomach starting to become strained from the endless effort. To how her ass shakes as your fuck yourself to the edge and how she cranes her neck to watch you.

At the very last moment, you draw out of her and jerk yourself, quick and urgent motions of your wrist. Hanni's knees give way and she lies flat, looking back and watching you as you start to cover her.

The first spurts land high, just beneath her hair. They collect and pool before forming and dripping forward along her shoulder blades. The next spreads across her shoulders. A thin coating that has you shiver as it lands. It goes on and on until you're slathering her in thick lines and ropes.

Something about the sight is so fitting, so delectable, as she lays there and writhes with need, adoring the feeling of being bathed in your lust.

Her expression is an aphrodisiac as she cries out in ecstasy. Her tongue runs across her lips, and then she lets out a soft lass before crashing her face into the soft bedsheets with a moan. Your fist is still pumping rope after rope of cum across her until every muscle feels drained, and you manage to collapse beside her on the bed. You trace a finger across her smooth, plump ass as you catch your breath.

"This is the life," Hanni gasps. "If I could just have endless sex, the world would be a far happier place."

-

You could have been forgiven for thinking it would be a one-off. Just one night of wild sex together before going your separate ways and never speaking again. A nice memory of a beautiful girl to always sit fondly at the back of your mind.

But the very next night, you're in her hotel bathroom. Sharing a bath together, her back pressed flush to your front. You can't fucking resist running a hand between her thighs, working gently over her cunt to hear the wonderful noises she makes.

"Please," she whispers over and over, grinding against your touch.

Ordinarily, you might tease her, and have her beg a little more, but there's nothing more enthralling than the sounds and sights of Hanni's face when she cums. So instead, you're knuckle deep with two fingers and curling them into her cunt, hitting that magic spot just a little more, faster and faster.

On the brink of her second orgasm in ten minutes, Hanni draws a noisy, shuddering breath, the exhalation quickly becoming a sharp, high-pitched wail that fills the bathroom, her eyes glaze as she climaxes. "Fuck. I—that's—more." Her head falls backwards and rests on your shoulder, "yeah, more."

Hanni's petite frame writhes in orgasm. Back arched, panting breaths quickly turning to gasps for air. Eyes flutter and roll backwards before shutting entirely. Every muscle in her tight cunt grips your fingers as waves of pleasure pour from deep inside. She grinds on you, riding the sensation of your touch through the spasms until they finally slow.

"You're so fucking cute when you cum," you kiss her cheek.

It's the compliment that has her rising from the water, she stands in front of you, her wet ass and thighs dripping as she turns toward you. "Me? Cute?" She smirks, lowering herself onto your thighs, resting your cock against her pussy. "Am I really?"

"Cutest fucking thing."

She guides your cock to her wet pussy, sinking down and slowly filling herself, the both of you making a whimper at the sensation. She's in no rush, though. She prefers slow, she favours long, lingering motions where you're all the way inside her and stay there for just a few moments before climbing once more.

Her rhythm has you melting back against the bath. Long, even strokes have her ass lifting and sinking, and she rolls her hips so elegantly that it's natural to reach for her waist and run your hands along her curves.

"I hope you don't think I'm easy," Hanni whispers, her fingers grabbing the hair on the back of your head, locking her hot body against yours, keeping you close, wrapping around you. "But I'm twenty and sex-deprived, so deal with it."

"You're allowed to enjoy sex. Nothing wrong with that," you answer through closed eyes, focusing only on the heat, the skin, the feeling of your cock rubbing through her.

With a mischievous chuckle, she rests her weight on you. Chest to chest, nose against nose.

"Careful," she whispers, her voice fluttering in between soft sighs of excitement. "I could get used to having a man around. Someone willing to get me off, over and over again. You might be stuck with me. Wouldn't that be scandalous? A reporter who's secretly fucking a star like me?"

That alluring, seductive voice makes your body tense. Her kiss threatens to undo you right then and there. She's riding you harder now, bouncing her ass in your lap. Driving the pleasure, the friction, harder and deeper.

"I have a confession to make," you speak with heavy breaths, trying to restrain yourself. "I think I could get used to this. Every day. If I could."

"It's a deal then. How about we celebrate by letting you blow a load inside me? Would you like that?" She nibbles at your earlobe, giggling as she sucks it between her lips. "How good would it feel to feel your hot, thick cum slide all the way up inside me?"

"So fucking good."

"And maybe tomorrow I'll keep you inside me and let you fill me all over again, and maybe I'll do the same the day after." There's a devilish smile across her face as she continues, "I'll ride you again and again and again..."

She keeps repeating it, the word stamped into your head over and over and each time she says it, she drives her hips down into you. Hard. The water ripples. Her ass slaps the tops of your thighs. It's a relentless rhythm, an insistent grind, a desperate desire for more.

"You're filthy," you tell her as you take a firm grip on her ass, her flesh filling your grasp and the muscles rippling through her skin as she moves.

"Maybe. Maybe I am, and maybe you like it." She laughs. A sound as sweet as honey.

"You know I do."

"Then show me how much. Fill me. Let it go."

That's all you need, just her words and the way she fucks you. She's the one doing all the work, and it's all the reason you need to relax and let the bliss consume you.

Hanni is kissing you when it hits. She swallows your groans of release, sucking them into her lungs. Her hands press down into your shoulders, nails sinking deep into your skin.

She doesn't stop moving, not once. Keeps grinding. She maintains the pace until you can't take any more. Until there's nothing left. Only then does she ease her motion, settling onto your lap, keeping you deep in her.

"That was amazing," she sighs.

"Fucking was."

[inthelittlewood]

So, just out of curiosity, are you thinking of making episodes for rats 2 like you did for all the other pow creations smps? If not, that's okay (:

I'm really not sure currently. For full transparency, the previous episodes of both series made on average about £40 individually. The occasional one flicked up to NEARLY £100, but they're real anomalies. Thumbnail costs take up a good portion of that 40, then what's left, divided by the hours it takes to condense masses of content down to episode form would be a wage grossly below minimum wage. It's not smart financially or motivationally to proceed that way.

I've always been proud of the end products of each episode / series but I had revenue coming from other sources that have since dried up. I can't make purely artistic decisions when I have mouths to feed and a home to maintain.

I've been quiet on video content this year because I've not had an SMP play in, so streaming became a primary earner. Even that was propped up significantly by our Logitech/Streamlabs sponsorship - which concluded unexpectedly early at the end of September due to budget adjustments on their end (zero bad feelings regarding that btw, it was all done fairly and by the contract, it was quarterly renewals and I was communicated respectfully with)

I'm lucky that Wild Life has come along when it has, as it gives me a little breathing room to try and secure a new sponsor or at least compile a content plan for late 2024 / early 2025.

Even my Life series barely pass the threshold to where an editor wouldn't gobble up the majority of the revenue. That one is a real 50/50 between coming out net neutral, or coming out with a minimal profit. It's rough. Speaking honestly, I'm a tad nervous about the immediate future, but I promise this isn't a post trying to rouse pity or spur on donations/subs etc, it's just transparency as I've always operated. It feels better laying it out so analytically because it gives people context and answers the FAQ of "why don't you just hire someone", the overhead isn't there.

I'm going to start putting the feelers out to try and secure a new partnership, I have one conversation pending and if we can I'll nab some sponsored streams more often to raise the tides.

That said, we are headed in to the best time of year for ad revenue on YouTube especially, but it's not quite the 5x multiplier I would need to sensibly navigate my situation ha

The only viable solution currently would be to crowd source funds to cover the costs of the work for making the episodes, whether that be paid to me and I edit them myself or more ideally, an editor, so I can focus my efforts in to producing another piece of content. I've no idea what the Patreon/Kofi/Crowdfunding landscape is like currently both mechanically and socially. Are they a thing people subscribe to anymore? They inherently come with more pressures too which I'm nervous to take on.

I'm likely to get inbox messages offering to edit for free or at a reduced fee, but PLEASE DON'T DO THAT. Even if you're framing it as good practice, or a portfolio/client list piece, I wouldn't feel comfortable with that. It's a very sweet gesture and I totally understand showing that initiative / sincerity, I've been there, but those scenarios can too often be miscommunicated or misconstrued and it gets messy. People's time and talents deserve compensation.

So tl;dr answer is I'm not sure, I might try an episode 1 to see how it performs, but it's not looking great. Sorry.

[beanarie]

inspired by this post by @monstream theorizing that tommy will pop back up in a couple months and reveal he dipped out like his ass was on fire because he got a cancer diagnosis. (be advised: this is not about real cancer. this is tv cancer.) 1300 words.

a chance encounter

Bobby still has a blood donation appointment at First Presbyterian every two months, which he attends religiously, barring exemptions like the six months he had to skip after the heart attack. Years ago, when it started, Chimney arranged a rotation for rides, and as their team went through staffing changes, it settled to a more informal thing, whichever of them would be available verbally stepping up each time. Athena would have been the logical choice with one of the 118 as backup, but this is theirs. Buck likes it because usually he and Bobby stop for a meal and catch up, just the two of them.

On their way to the elevators, they hear applause in the next wing over, and Bobby gives Buck a little smile before they join the gathering at the back of the small crowd. He loves a bell ceremony.

A teen girl in a green hoodie that reaches her knees is blushing and stumbling over her words, flustered by the attention. "Anyway," she says, "I'm not gonna be sick at prom and I'm so effing excited." She rings the bell and pumps a fist in the air before hugging one of the nurses.

"All right," says a blonde woman holding a clipboard. "We have three more patients who completed treatment! I know, right? It's been a good week."

Buck looks down at the coffee he grabbed from the on-site cafe while Bobby was getting drained, which tastes different somehow but he can't put his finger on it. Soy milk, maybe? A sharp nudge forces him to look up into Bobby's suddenly tense expression.

"Well. So... yeah. These last few months have sucked."

Buck swings his head around and Bobby grabs the coffee out of his hand. There, acknowledging a round of polite laughter, is Tommy, dressed in a henley and flannel shirt, all in shades of blue. Buck always liked him in blue. He looks slimmer, more like the version of himself from Chim and Hen's old team photos. He's wearing a Raiders hat.

"I knew, as a firefighter who flew helicopters, that I probably didn't have the highest life expectancy. But this diagnosis still threw me for a loop."

Buck should not be here. He should not be here. But he can't convince his feet to move.

"I did some dumb things, isolated myself, assumed the worst. It was the staff here who kept--gently--smacking me upside the head, reminding me that there was still hope." Tommy ducks his head and when he looks up eyes are bright. "Thank God for them."

Buck feels like he is stuck in a column of rapidly curing cement. It started down at his feet and now his lungs won't inflate.

"Buck," Bobby hisses, tugging at his sleeve.

"Bug your city council rep to increase compensation for healthcare workers because there's no way they get paid enough to deal with my bullshit." A cluster of small children at the front of the group starts howling at the swear, and he grins, unrepentant. Buck might be drowning. "Thank you, everyone. Fuck cancer." He rings the bell and steps back quickly for the next patient, accepting good-natured pummeling from several members of the staff as everyone applauds.

The smile that settled on Tommy's face vanishes as their eyes meet. The column of cement also vanishes. Breathing hard, his pulse hammering in his ears, Buck follows Bobby down the hall to the elevators.

"Buck?"

It still sounds so wrong coming from him. Buck flinches and looks at the slowly progressing display of which floor the elevator is on. Stairs it is. "I'll meet you down there," he says to Bobby, and doesn't wait for a response.

Buck plows through the door to the stairwell, moving as quickly as possible.

"Wait! Please? I can follow for a little bit, but fourteen flights of stairs is beyond me at the moment."

Buck slows his progress down, stopping at the next landing.

"What-" Tommy takes the stairs slowly, one by one. "What are you doing here? How did you find out?"

Buck glances up. "I didn't. We just happened to be in the neighborhood. This place is our home away from home, you know?"

"Oh," Tommy says, then has the nerve to look concerned. "Is everyone okay?"

"I'm not fucking okay. Did you know you were sick?"

"When?" he temporizes. "I mean, they did tell me at one point."

"You know when," Buck says, seething, his vision growing redder when Tommy doesn't answer. "I asked you to move in with me." I was all in. You didn't have to do this alone.

Tommy finishes the last few steps and joins him on the landing. "You asked your gym rat firefighter boyfriend to move in with you. Not an unemployed puke machine with a thirty-nine percent chance of kicking it in the next five years."

"Oh my God." Buck laughs, wanting to scream at the wall. "So I'm not a newborn bisexual who couldn't possibly know what I want, I'm just a piece of shit who would drop a partner for getting sick. Or maybe I'm both."

"No, I-"

"If you say 'it wasn't you, it was me' I'm gonna start taking these steps three at a time."

"It was-" Up close, Tommy looks tired. There are lines in his face that weren't there before. "Significantly more about me and my trust issues than it was about you. Is that different enough for you to stick around?"

"You gave me trust issues, Tommy. Not just in you, or other people I might date, but in myself."

Tommy's expression is gutted. "I'm sorry. I was trying to avoid more pain in the future, for both of us."

Sparing a thought for Bobby, who hopefully settled in the lobby to wait, Buck sits on the landing, wedging himself against the wall to take up less space. "I loved you."

"I believe you." Tommy sat down next to him, almost touching because of the width of the staircase. "I shouldn't have dismissed your feelings. You're a grown man and all I can say in my defense is that I become the fucking unabomber when I get scared. Ask Howie and Hen about my years as a closet case working under a captain who got a medal for outstanding work in homophobia."

It would be so easy to pull Tommy into his arms. Just reach out.

"Buck?"

Buck swipes at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Please don't call me that."

"I'm sorry. I honestly felt I gave up the right to set myself apart in that way." Tommy swallows. "Evan."

Buck blinks away a fresh round of tears. "Are you okay, really?"

Tommy gestures at himself. "As you can see, I'm not going out tomorrow and running a marathon, but next week I get to start training to go back to work." He shrugs a little, smiling. "So I'm pretty damn peachy."

"What about the thirty-nine percent?"

Tommy whistles while pointing down. "It's pretty much back to whatever my prognosis was for running into fires and flying around in a tin can."

"That's- That's great." Buck's phone rings.

"Hey, I don't mean to interrupt anything," Bobby says. "I just didn't want to leave without saying something. I'll get an Uber, okay?"

"No. No, we're good. I'll see you in five." Buck meets Tommy's steady gaze. "Next week, huh? Do you wanna go for a run at that park near my place? I promise to take it easy on you. Or, not easy, whichever you need."

Tommy visibly stops himself from declining. "Okay. Text me." He rises from the steps and starts for the exit door as Buck begins his way down. "Evan?"

Buck turns. "Yeah?"

"I loved you, too."

Breathing out, Buck rolls his shoulders back. "I figured. See you next week."

[mysticheathenn]

Messages From Your Spirit Team

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about what messages your spirit team has for you today. Randomly spirit called me to do a pick-a-card for today on here, so whoever this is needed for I send you peace, support, and nothing but love.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

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Etsy (Private Readings)

Pile l:

Messages From Your Spirit Team: 6 of Cups, 9 of Wands, 9 of Cups, Justice, 3 of Swords, Death

Song: All Good Things by Nelly Furtado

This pile is separated into two parts where some of you are going through a breakup (Platonic or Romantic) and others of you are feeling heavy nostalgia for the past. I'll start with my nostalgia group first. You are so tired of the burdens that you feel on a daily basis and miss the days when either you had little to no responsibilities or when things didn't feel so heavy and you just want things to go back to where they used to be but deep down like the song All Good Things by Nelly Furtado, all good things must come to an end and you need to embrace this new beginning. Your guides want you to know that better days are coming, sometimes you have to go through the storm to get to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. My nostalgia people your message is pretty short as you just need to pick your head up and know that while it's good to think/daydream bout the past don't get too caught up there to the point you began falling backward into old patterns. Some of you I am hearing was the past filled with good times, or just a time you overlooked many things to make it work? This is beginning to turn into the ones who are dealing with some sort of grieving. This grieving could be platonic or romantic, either way, you had to cut ties with someone you thought would be your soul tribe, forever person, or family and you can't help but go through the steps of grief (Denial, anger, depression, bargaining (for some of you) to now trying to come to acceptance of everything but the thing is you don't want to come to an acceptance of everything because what you had with this person/people was everything, but what you are failing to look at when you look back on the relationship are the bad times for quite a few of you, you've had many bad times with this person. Your time with this person must come to an end love. There will be many more people etc waiting for you to experience better times with, without the baggage of what this person has put you through. Some of you want revenge, don't do what I know you are about or want to do (slash tires, put glitter all through the person's crib, etc). Be the Bigger person and let Spirit handle this person. I will repeat myself let spirit deal with this and you be the bigger person and walk away. Don't say no one didn't warn you if your actions backfire. Let's not go to jail please for someone who a) isn't worth it and b) you deep down either knew this person was no good but thought you could fix them/they wouldn't do you wrong or knew this relationship should have ended many years or months ago. Either way, whichever group in this pile you landed on it's okay to look back and smile/laugh, just don't stay there. Good Times are coming and it doesn't have any room for past baggage.

Pile ll:

Messages From Your Spirit Team: 5 of Cups, 7 of Wands, 3 of Cups, Knight of Cups, 5 of Pentacles, 2 of Swords

TW: Depression, Anxiety, Unhappiness, Toxic Relationships (Platonic or Romantic)

This pile I feel heavy depression and anxiety vibes. This pile I sense you're in a relationship and you feel you have lost yourself to the person you are with and I don't mean that in a good way. I mean this as in this pile gives me domestic violence, controlling, and I am not happy here vibes because you have given this person your all and you want to make things work because like pile l you are remembering the good times but you aren't sure if the good times you think about are enough. I want you to stop and ask yourself why are you having to go back to the past to think about good times and not right now. When was the last time this relationship (platonic or romantic) was even good or had good times. If you can't think of something within five seconds of me asking it's time to make that decision on cutting the cord. There is a saying in my head "Love don't live here anymore" and you know it's been a while since it has. This goes for loving yourself as well. Some of you may not be keeping up with your appearances, your rituals, or things that make you feel good overall because this person completely sucks you dry, insults you, gives backhanded compliments, basically this person has overall hater energy and you stopped seeing the point in getting dolled up, having hobbies, or anything that makes you happy. You are constantly shrinking yourself in order to keep the peace...but what about yours? Taraji's character Cookie from Empire meme "I gotta put me first, I gotta put me first Luscious" is playing in my head. You need to start putting yourself first. Some of you I can already hear what if this person...stop...you see what you are doing there. You are thinking of this other person before yourself and why??? They definitely aren't doing the same for you. Put yourself first, love yourself, and cut ties with this platonic or romantic person in your life that is causing you to feel so much grief and hatred for yourself. Some of you I am also hearing what if no one will love me (platonic/romantic)? Where you are at love, there is no love only hate. What difference would it be if you left? You already feel alone, so why not be alone while building yourself back up to feel good. Remember there is always someone better out there in the world, even for you. I hope you know this, I need you to know this. There is an abundance of love out there for you to find, but first, it needs to start from within.

Pile lll:

Messages From Your Spirit Team: 4 of Pentacles, 8 of Swords, 9 of Cups, 6 of Swords, Ace of Cups

Shadow Work

I'm hearing it's time for you to allow joy in. Stop holding yourself hostage to the good things in life and allow them to come in. Stop looking at everything as a test, people out to hurt you, or everything always ends up being shit. Start looking at everything from the glass half full and not empty pile lll. I am not sure what happened but I sense you have been through a lot to the point you are afraid of letting yourself be happy, explore, being vulnerable, etc and I want to tell you it's time. You are not your past nor your circumstances, yes bad things happened to you. Yes, people can suck but that doesn't mean you lock yourself up in a tower because of other people's shitty actions. trust I know what this is like because I personally have gone through this but after I made the decision to stop feeding myself through social media about how men suck, people not having a heart, etc and begin feeding my feed or just my mind in general with people don't suck just the one's I have dealt with have you begin to start healing and bringing in better people. Some of you, I know you don't want to hear this but it's time to release the victim mentality. The he, she, they hurt me, and I did nothing wrong mentality. This isn't to say they did nothing wrong, but if I asked you right now were the signs there all along and you ignored them because you didn't want to lose this person 9/10 you would say the signs were there and you ignored them (This part may not apply to everyone). Now that we have accepted this part it's time to move on to shadow work to help you heal. This whole time you are just swallowing poison hoping the other person dies when it's you that the poison is harming. Release the blame game and take back control and power over your life. It's time to stop punishing yourself and start rewarding yourself because you made it out of the wilderness to the other side. It's time to start living it.

Pile lV:

Messages From Your Spirit Team: The Devil, Page of Swords, 3 of Wands, 2 of Cups

This pile can be for Friends or Romantic Relationships but it came out more toward Romance than friendship

This might be my less traumatic pile, haha. While not the best, still less traumatic than the other three. The TikTok meme "Do you love her, would you do whatever it takes to stay with her? Naaaah (TikTok Clip) comes to mind with this pile. Pile lV you may have been called to other piles or maybe even all three for very few of you. There is a connection here that you know is not good for you but it seems as if you are coming up with every and anything to stay in this connection even though you know you should let it go. Your relationship is literally the meme of the dude wearing a Gucci backpack that has a strap that is ready to break (meme). There is no point in clinging onto dead weight, constantly thinking of everything under the sun to stay, it is time to leave. It is time, you know it's time, they know it's time, and your guides are now telling you it's time. This pile may be short because your cards are straight to the point of releasing deadweight. Stop seeing this person for the potential that they can give you but choose not to and see a spade for a spade and move on. What is holding you to this relationship that has you in a chokehold? Why are you fearing that you will miss out on this person if you decide to let them go? The saying If they wanted to, they would is coming to mind. If this person wanted to show you the best side of them they would. If they wanted to treat you better, they would. If they feared losing you they would show you and act accordingly or not place themselves in situations where they could potentially lose you. This person doesn't value you, your time, the things you do, etc. It's time to stop making excuses for the things they do and cut the cord. What I mean by making excuses for the things they do: Ex. They rarely check up on you to see if you are alive and they like to blame it on being a poor texter but they always have their phone in their hands and making plans with their friends...and not you. But you brush off this behavior as they're busy, this is just them, or you even go as far as to gaslight yourself into believing you are 'secure' enough that you don't need to have constant communication even though you desperately want it. You deserve better love, and there is better out there for you.

Wow, it's been a while. Miss you guys...even though I'm still technically here just not doing as much on here unless I feel called to.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

[noxi3xe]

Unfortunate turn of events

AFAB reader x Pantalone - NSFW (Minors DNI) Synopsys: You're in a tough spot and have terrible luck with finding jobs. Whatever might happen once you apply for a job at the Northland bank?

Warnings: Smut, Porn /w plot, public sex, hair pulling, overall just a quick smut scene w some plot

Words: 3.5K

Author's note:

This is also posted on AO3 HERE!!

this is a quick fic I wrote while bored, the *smut* scene is short and awkward so I apologize, but still enjoy!!

Minors dni!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

»I— I'll fix it.. I swear!«

I beg and plead as the shop owner shoves me out the door. I was a good employee, I really was, I always tried my best and always put my everything into every shift. I slump down against the door and begin to sob. This job was barely enough to cover for monthly food rations.. and aside from food I needed to fix up my house and save up for new clothes. I was going to even look for a second job to cover all of my expenses but now I don't have anything! I do not even know what triggered that immediate reaction, I mean, firing me on the spot? After breaking a simple vase that the shop manager bought just a week ago? From what I overheard it wasn't even expensive!

I stand up slowly and make my way back home, head hung low in defeat. I wasn't sure what to do now, I mean.. I've got to find a job, sure, but that was harder done than said nowadays, especially at this time of the year. Snezhnaya was a cold country all year round but winters were especially harsh. I wonder how I'd survive this year, I mean my roof is busted, my water supply is running low due to my pipes freezing up thanks to my broken heating system and not to mention that one of my windows cracked. With no heating, cracked windows and a part missing roof my house was as cold as the outside and I was barely surviving. I wasn't sure what to do till I saw freshly hung posters in the town square as I passed.

'Looking for hire.'

They said, and I stepped closer, considering the idea without even checking for the publisher. I'm glad I did because my eyes almost jumped out of my skull. It would've been a death sentence to join the Fatui and there's no way I'd even consider taking up this job offer, even if my life depends on it. The Northland bank is looking for hire? Yeah no thanks..

I stumble along and head home, hugging myself tightly, already missing my warm.. well.. as warm as it can get, blanket.

________

I stare at the dry piece of bread and the already lukewarm coffee set before me on the table. Everyday is getting harder and I don't know if I'll have enough money to buy food for next week. I lean forward and rest my head into my palms, sighing loudly. I don't know what else to do, I cannot find a job and donations from doing community service aren't enough. It's getting colder each day and I have a feeling I'll freeze if I don't get my house fixed up. That's when I decide that enough is enough and stand up, grabbing my coat.

I step out into the cold and begin to venture downtown, ready to start my search. I couldn't continue on like this knowing I'll eventually starve without a stable income. I knew I'd have to get up and start looking this morning when I found another window cracked.

—

I shuffle through the thick snow, snow slowly falling from the sky. It's a beautiful sight, the sun rising behind the parting clouds coloring the sky a bright gray-orange-blue-ish color. It was barely 6:30 in the morning and I was already threading through the city, heading towards the commission's guild, knowing I could make a quick buck or two there. Then I'd head towards the community board in the city center at around 9 to check for any new posters. The idea was great and It worked out perfectly.. to a degree.

I stopped by The adventurers guild like I said I would, greeting Katheryne and wishing her a wonderful morning. I accepted two out of three commissions offered to me, seeing as the third involved fighting some Hilichurls and I wasn't very skilled with weapons. I barely used my Pryo vision and even that was when I needed a source of heat, having no other use for the darn thing. The other two commissions were the delivery type. Ivanka, a widow living on the outskirts of the city required a fresh batch of groceries delivered and Jasmine, a local florist required some fresh soil that needed to be picked up from the dock and delivered to her straight. The commissions didn't take long and I was done very quickly, before the clock even struck 9.

I made my way back towards the Adventurer's guild, waving towards Katheryne from a far.

»I'm back!«

I exclaim excitedly. Katheryne offers me a bright smile, opening her mouth to speak.

»Thank you for completing Today's commissions. Here is your reward.«

I grab the pouch she holds out to me and flinch due to it's weight.

»A-Ah! Thank you!«

I grin and straighten a little then look around. People were beginning to wake up, go about their day and open up shops. I turn back to Katheryne and stare at her for a second then ask.

»Do you know if anybody's offering jobs of any kind for a little income?«

She thinks for a second then nods, giving me a reassuring smile.

»Well I believe the Northland bank is still searching! Best of luck if you do choose to give it a try!«

I freeze and look around. The Northland bank? Still? It's been a week and the spot hasn't been filled yet? There's no way I'd even get the job if no other has been able to in the past week! Still I believe there's no other choice I have.. Katheryne would've mentioned it if there were any other job offers available but I doubt there is since she hasn't mentioned anything. I slowly make my way towards the plaza hoping and praying to the Tsaritsa and any Celestial force that might hear my prayers to bless me with a job that is NOT working at the Northland bank.

I round the corner, passing by the local bakery and spot a younger girl standing by the notice board, either taking something off or nailing a poster to the board, I wasn't sure. I approach her slowly before making my presence known as to not startle her.

»Hey! Morning..«

I say and she turns around to look at me then offers me a friendly smile.

»Mornin'«

I now stand next to her and look over at the board confirming my suspicions. She indeed was taking a poster off, the one for the local flower shop. I tried applying for a simple cashier job there but I was too late and the place was taken before I could even ask about the offer. I sigh, spotting the last job poster on the board and my heartbeat speeds up a bit. I groan and the lady looks over at me, worriedly.

»You alright, ma'am?«

She asks and I nod, apologizing.

»Indeed, I apologize, I'm just having terrible luck looking for a job.«

She hums, nodding.

»Good luck, hey the Northland bank seems to still have an open spot? Considered checking it out?«

»I have but I doubt it's smart to get involved with the Fatui..«

»That is true.. well best of luck!«

She wishes me a good day and I return the kind words, watching her disappear around the block. I stare at the board. Town info, news reports, missing person posters, the board was filled with crap like that yet no job offers. I snatch the Northland bank poster, ripping it off and turn towards home, deciding that perhaps this was my last chance. I'll put on my best clothes and warmest smile and hope for the best.

_____

I stand before the large doors, shuddering at the thought that if luck's on my side today there might just be a chance I'd have to pass them every day. I take a moment to collect myself then slowly push the pine doors open, taking my first step inside. The warmth hits me in the face immediately and I stop for a moment, taking in the warm air and sweet smell. The Bank smells like a bakery would and it isn't as loud as one would think. People are speaking in hushed tones and keeping to themselves, not one dares to speak up. The place is clean, and I mean clean. Even the plants look perfect!

I step up to the front desk and the secretary looks up from the papers, giving me a warm smile.

»Good afternoon! How may I help you?«

She asks in a tone so cheery I didn't think was possible.  I look around for a brief moment then back to her, forcing myself to return the gesture.

»I heard you were offering a job?«

Her cheery facade drops and she stares at me, dumbfounded. I wasn't sure whether she was about to laugh seeing as somebody like me was definitely not fit to work in a bank, or because I was ballsy enough to actually show up to the bank without hesitation and ask about the job? I mean the poster was up for a long while therefore I'm guessing nobody realllllyyy wanted to even think about taking up the offer.

»M-Ma'am?«

I stutter and freeze up when she suddenly snaps out of whatever trance she was in and her warm smile returns.

»A-Apologies..! Come with me!«

She doesn't ask for my information, for even my name nor what the job would be other than working behind a desk! She just asks me to follow after her and seeing as I hold no authority over her I do not really have the right to stop her and ask her pointless questions that have a chance of getting answered even after I follow her.

We make our way up a looped staircase onto the first floor which is connected to a balcony that overlooks the bank. Every millimeter of the bank walls is covered in golden and wooden details, gems and crystals of different kinds. Even the floor looks expensive and neatly polished. I heard that the maids get paid quite a lot and they don't have to deal with customers or any of the Fatui officials therefore I wonder how much I will get paid for doing both! I could salivate at the thought of how well I'll fix up my little house with the hard earned money but I decided to push those thoughts away seeing as there's a chance I'll jinx myself and not get the job if I think about it too hard. I focus my attention back onto the bank worker and offer her a soft smile as she opens the glass double doors for me, the ones we stopped in front of after leading me down a maze of hallways.

»One of our employers should be in right now, they'll take it over from here. Best of luck, Comrade!«

She says and turns on her heel, leaving me alone. I take a deep breath before creaking the door open slowly, dipping one foot inside the room then following with my whole body and finally the other foot. I now stand inside the room my attention immediately falling onto the circular desk in the middle of the room. Behind it sit three ladies, all facing away from each other, a slim pillar extending outward towards the ceiling stands in the very middle. Their desk looks awfully messy and they seem to be in a rush. I step over and greet the black haired one, offering her a smile although I do not get one in return.

»Make it quick please, I'm busy.«

She chews on a piece of gum rather loudly, clicking the pen impatiently. I stutter but step closer, placing my ID onto the table.

»[Last name][Name], [Age], I saw you guys were looking for a secretary and was wondering whether there was any chance it was still open. I'll be honest I have no work experience in this field and don't really know what the job of a secretary involves... b-but I learn very quickly...!«

She stares at me and sighs, shaking her head. Her demeanor went from annoyed to tired in an instant and she didn't seem so hostile anymore.

»No experience you say? Ughh... erm.. well this job requires a lot of running around and a good memory s—«

I cut her off immediately, scrambling to catch my words. She shoots me a glance but doesn't stop me.

»That's no problem, really.. ! O-Oh and I remember things quickly!«

She nods, signalling that she indeed was listening as she writes something down.

»Well you'll have to wait because we were ju—«

Just as she was about to finish speaking she gets interrupted for the second time, this time not daring to look a bit annoyed. Through one of the hallways enters..

The Regator

The doors opened by Fatui Skrimishers as they escort him into the room and he sets eyes on one of the desk workers, unfortunately exactly the one I was speaking to.

»You!«

One of the Skrimishers calls out and she yelps.

»M-Me..?«

The Skrimisher walks over, slapping a pile of reports onto her table.

»Go make a copy for each and every one of these separately, now!«

The Regator stares at us intently and she looks up at him, then at me and finally at the Skrimisher.

»But.. M-My Lord.. I was tending to this young lady, she's here for an interview..!«

His smile twists into a large grin upon hearing those words and he finally speaks, his voice silky smooth.

»Wonderful, I'll take over from here.«

He purrs and I freeze. Take over? I'll get interviewed by The Regator himself? This is a joke..

I step back towards the desk and stare at the man who takes a step closer, eyes narrowing.

»Chop, chop! I don't have all day.«

He says, his tone changing immediately. He moves past us towards the back of the room where stands an impressive set of double doors which leads to another hallway. The Regator looks over his shoulder and I jump, realizing I have to follow and not just stare! We enter another expensively decorated room which seemed to serve as a waiting room. At the very far right wall stood yet another set of doors. I wonder how many this place even has. The Skrimishers open the door for the 9th and he steps inside. I hesitate for a second but just for a second as the next moment I am standing inside of the office, doors closed behind me. I was shoved inside and didn't really have a choice.

»Well then? I sure don't have all day. Come on, sit.«

His demeanor changed immediately, his smile gone and his eyes cold, staring daggers through my form. I approach slowly and pull the cushioned chair out, cringing at the sound it makes as it scrapes against the floor. I cautiously sit down and The Regator leans back, pulling out a blank form from one of his drawers.

»Let's make this quick. I'll need a full name and age, address, previous work experience..«

He continues on but I don't really listen to him, more than what not staring at the blank form. Would my picture go there? Why do they need so much information? What would happen if I just refused and got out of here. He snaps me out of my thoughts as he clears his throat.

»Are you still with me?«

He's becoming irritated.

»My apologies, My Lord.«

»Ah so you can speak after all.«

He grins, sliding me the sheet.

»Make sure to be quick, we'll have to interview you properly.«

I nod and swallow nervously as I rake my eyes over the sheet of paper. He holds out a pen, his long slender fingers adorned with all kinds of rings and jewels. He smiles, although his smile unlike the other employees' wasn't warm and welcoming, more like threatening. I return the smile awkwardly as I take the pen, focusing back on the paper. There wasn't much to fill out except for personal information. Why would my work place need my address? My previous one sure as hell did not, so why now? Well perhaps it was to mail me the check, but still I can collect it at work!

»[Name]..«

He mumbles as he watches me write my name down. I look up immediately and he grins, waving me off.

»Is there a problem, M-My Lord..?«

»Oh don't you worry your pretty head off, nothing's wrong, continue on.«

I hum and skip through the attention notice, then finish the task I was given. I lay the pen down and look back up. He's focused on the sheet rather intently. He reaches forward, sliding it over the desk and I freeze. Oh right, he actually has to read this. His eyes scan the page and he frowns. Oh no..

»Antique shop manager? That's unfortunate.«

»I— Is there a problem...?«

»I don't think your past work experience matches what we are looking for. Quite unfortunate I must say.«

He sighs and stands up and my heart drops. Wait.. so I didn't get it? But..!

»W—Wa— My Lord! I seriously need this job I..«

I cannot believe I'm begging for a job I was at first hesitant to even apply for but at this point it is my last chance, the only means of survival.

»Oh really? Do tell me why this position should be granted to exactly you over every other person twice as experienced as you.«

As experienced as me? For fucks sake it's just some numbers! I grit my teeth and look at him, knowing I'd regret my words immediately.

»What every other person? As far as I've noticed I'm the only one applying for this job, no other was in line behind me!«

His smile falls and I freeze yet again.

»Oh?«

»I— W—«

He slams his hands onto the table and stands up, I gulp.

»You've got guts to bark out against a harbinger, I'll give you that.«

I melt into my chair as I watch him round the table, staring down at my form.

»Not only you decide to go against my word and my beliefs you as well try to demand things from me?«

»I—«

»So tell me, Gem. Why should a job as highly paying as this go to somebody lowly like you?«

»M-My Lord..«

He scoffs and stops before me, leaning against the desk just two or so feet away from me. I look up and he grins widely for what feels like the 100th time, knowing I'm afraid and won't even think about acting out again.

»W-Well.. a tree fell and some windows cracked.. I— I have been barely s-surviving...I—«

I stare at my feet, fumbling with my hands. I know there's no chance of redemption now but all I can do is pray. He hums, grabbing my face and I flinch, staring up at him in disbelief. The cold metal of his rings digs into my face and I grimace at the feeling.

»I have an idea how we could fix this mishap..«

I try to pull away but he grabs at his belt and I think I've got just the Idea.

___

He pulls at my hair, bringing my head back as I gasp for air. Tears run freely down my cheeks as I choke on his precum and my own saliva, barely catching a breath before he brings my head back down, stuffing my mouth.

»Yo-You know— haah..«

He bites at his lips before pulling my head off again.

»I usually don't do this but.. celestia.. I couldn't help myself..«

I sob as he brings me up by my collar, chasing my mouth with his own. He groans as our lips connect, moving together furiously, melting into each other. A string of saliva connects us as he pulls away, the scene is absolutely filthy.

»The way you looked up at me.. dear Tsaritsa.. haa—«

He groans as I trace my hand up his length and attempt sink back to my knees to finish what I've started but he stops me, gripping my arm before I could. I look up at him again and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Suddenly I'm flipped around and over his desk as he grips my hair, forcing me forward. I gasp as he grips my hips, leaning over my body.

»You know... I'm tempted to sign you up as my personal assistant right about now. You'd like that, wouldn't you?«

He says as he slowly slides pulls my pants down, slapping my ass.

»I asked you a question.«

He grips my throat and shoves me further into the table and I cry out. His cold rings making me shiver.

»Y-Yes! I would love to—«

He slaps me again, this time harder before pulling my undergarments off with such force I swear to everything I own I could have heard a rip. I can hear the grin on his face as he speaks again, fingers tracing my opening.

»I'm sure of it..«

He slides his fingers inside my heat, curling them upwards and I jolt, sobbing into my hand.

»We'll have to train you then, you said you were a fast learner? Did I hear that right?«

I simply nod but he frowns, not that I could see it, of course. He removes his fingers with a whine from my side and smacks my ass again, hard enough to leave a mark.

»I expect a proper answer whenever I ask you a question.«

»Y-Yes! Ye—ees My Lord!«

He grins again, rubbing the spot he just struck.

»Wonderful, don't you worry I'll call off my next meeting then we'll have plenty of time!« ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Written by DottoreEnjoyer69 on AO3

[primamchorus]

So I've gotten moved down with my parents as I said I'd be. Thankfully, my partner and I can lend hands where hands are needed. Right now, my hands are going toward drawing whatever I can for those that are interested. Due to the nature of what's been found, I thought it would be meaningful if I were to offer flower portraits of your characters should you be interested and donate to help my parents achieve what they require to get their respective surgeries.

My dad has a mass on his kidney, and the ultrasounds show this tumor as looking kind of like a flower. So in that vein, that's why I'm choosing to do flower busts as the primary thing I'm offering. That said, I am also still willing to do Discord emotes and stickers, and as a more left field thing, do clean, neutral lighting GPose reference sheets for those that may want them. More information can be found below the read more / show all.

There is a lot of information regarding everything affecting my dad and my stepmother available on my family's GoFundMe page found here. My family supported me and fought for me when I was fighting Leukemia, the least I can do is fight as much for their sake, too.

I also understand any apprehension of donating through GoFundMe because they take a percentage of the funds raised. If you feel so inclined, you can donate directly to my dad through his PayPal, or directly to me through my Ko-Fi page.

Before commissioning me, please understand: I have no slots this time around for my work because I'd like to raise as much as I can for my parents; I don't know how bogged down with commissions I'll be. That said, please refer to this post where I will be updating it periodically to keep track of my progress.

I tend to do FCFS, but if I'm waiting on you for information or input, I will move on to the next person while you figure out what you'd like to do, or are busy because other obligations.

I will not be doing large scale commissions like last time (i.e. full bodies + background work). I want something quicker and more manageable for myself, so I'm focusing bust shots, emotes, and stickers. Please do not ask for anything other than what is listed here.

Flower Busts :: Single Character :: $50 base w/ 1 flower type + $8 per extra flower type

Discord / Twitch Emotes :: $10 per

Discord Stickers :: $20 per

Gondola Discord Sticker YCH :: $25 per

Simple GPose Reference Sheets :: $5 per turn around

If you are interested in having a character reference sheet, please know that I will need either a .chara or a .mcdf file. A .chara is just a vanilla file with no mods and should be able to be saved through Anamnesis, and a .mcdf is if you mod your characters and can export your Mare Synchronos file. When you have any of these files, please put them in a Google Drive folder and send them to me!

I will not be meeting with people in-game as an option, unfortunately, because I do have my own reference studios set up in the houses that I use for them when necessary. My schedule is also all over the place to comfortably set anything up.

[directdogman]

Hey there's someone trying to say you said you were pro Israel on discord? They're anonymous and say you blocked them before they could get screenshots so I don't really believe them, but still :[

Mhm. Nice bit of news to wake up to, this.

Yeah, so this person's a troll and they're more than likely lying on purpose in order to try to me look bad because I blocked them on Twitter for being unpleasant, something I rarely even do and they're still seething about it. The block had nothing to do with Gaza, the person was just being annoying and I thought it'd be healthier to block and move on. I'd really prefer not to have to give this person energy, but if there's a rumor going around, I'd like to nip it in the bud, since it's very easy to disprove in this case.

To explain what this person's blathering about: Earlier this week, on a Phonegingi plush advert, this random user that doesn't follow me (and actually instructs fans of mine not to interact with them in their bio) made a dramatic QRT decrying me for posting a DT advert during a strike week, which I honestly had no clue it was, especially since my own timeline was (and still is) full of accounts posting normally.

Given that the person seemingly encountered one of my posts in the wild and ended up seething because of it + likely didn't want anything to do with me on their timeline (as their bio indicated), after thinking it over briefly, I did the healthy thing and just blocked the person + moved on. Makes sense, right? I'll admit: Even if the way the person approached me was regrettable, if I'd known it was a strike week, I'd have participated (as I'd participated in the last one), so I stopped posting teasers for the week anyway, only resuming again yesterday.

I'll also say: I checked my own timeline btw and looked at the accounts posting, and nobody else had anyone acting like this in their replies, even the much larger accounts. Nor did anyone else contact/reply to me in any way stating any disapproval.

Given that I've only blocked one account recently that isn't a replybot (and ofc, given the subject matter of that tweet), I'd have to assume that this is the anonymous person spreading stuff.

I'd understand where this person was coming from if maybe I'd stayed completely silent about Gaza, (which a lot of accounts I follow have) but I haven't. I had a Palestinian aid post pinned on my Twitter for weeks, I've talked about Gaza's child population and my support for South Africa's Hague suit in my discord server, I've engaged in the boycotts, wound down posting during strikes, donated a pretty substantial amount of Dialtown revenue towards sending money/esims... I have 4 bucks in my bank account right now and when my next DT check comes in, you'd better believe I'll be giving more. That's my right as a private citizen and one I'll continue to exercise.

I feel pretty uncomfortable having to put this stuff in front of me to 'prove' myself, even if some of it is public anyway. Charity should be something you do because you CARE and if it wasn't for this person, I'd have been far happier keeping a lower profile and not explicitly calling attention to my own aid, but given this ask, I feel it'd be stupid not to nip this in the bud. The majority of this information could be easily found with the tiniest amount of digging, btw, so it's not like the user couldn't have known any of this. This is the part of having a fandom that creators seldom talk about. You block one person for being a lil annoying, next thing you know, there's rumors that you support genocides! Fun.

So yeah, I'd like you to tell this person to just move on like a normal person (send them this post if you have to) and to stop spreading incorrect rumors about me out of spite. If they insist, I'm happy to pull up receipts to prove everything I've said. If they actually thought I was pro-Israel, they wouldn't be spreading it anonymously, they'd be writing another public post about the subject matter. Also if you see anyone repeating the rumor, please correct them. Thanks.

[ifearimaybeanamericanidiot]

Playing with his Hair

Chris x reader, 1st person, reader POV

TW: shitty manager

Summary: you've had a long day. Everything was way more difficult than it needed to be. Chris asks you to come over when you get off of work for a gaming stream.

I hate my job. Honestly, I wish I could quit. Most of my coworkers don't even do their jobs, preferring to dump it onto me and my couple close work friends. I know Chris wouldn't mind if I quit and depended on him until I found a different job for a little while, but I would just feel so guilty about it. He's never say it, but I can tell he's under a decent amount of stress trying to keep up a specific appearance for the triplets' fans. I wish all three of them would take a break and just focus on destressing for a little bit.

Nevertheless, I have about twenty minutes left in my shift before the next person gets here to take my place and I can clock out. The diner I work at is incredibly slow at the moment, so I pull my phone out behind the counter and check the time. Well, "check the time." Really, it's just to see Chris on my lock screen. His name pops up in my notifications. I unlock my phone and click on the little box.

Chris 💖: hey doll, I know you're at work, but do you want to come over after you get off? We're doing gaming stream. You can spend the night?

I grin at his message. He's so sweet. I shoot him back a thumbs up since my manager is approaching and slip my phone back into my pocket.

"Bad news, Kaitlyn is running late, so you'll have to stay late." I hate this man. I hold the string of curses in and respond calmly instead.

"How late are we talking?" I lean on the counter in front of me.

"I don't know exactly. Probably at least an extra thirty minutes past your clock out time." His leans across the counter, putting his face near mine. "That isn't an issue is it?" It sounds like a question, but I know better. I know John better than that. No, if I complain I risk my job.

"That's fine." It's not fine. The time moves slowly. At one point I swear the clock starts moving backwards. Eventually, Kaitlyn runs in, her hair messy and her face tired.

"I'm so sorry, babes." She says to me quickly. "I had no idea you were the one stuck here with John. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"You better." I say lightly, mostly joking. "I'm out of here. I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers though." I say as I walk towards the back to clock out. I bump into John. "Kaitlyn just got here, so I'm going to clock out now." He rolls his eyes at me, but says no protest.

I get into my car after clocking out and pull my phone out. I shoot Chris a text.

Me: sorry I'm running so late, Kaykat was late 😭😭 I'm heading over now.

Chris 💖: okay ma, I'll have fresh clothes waiting for you <3

He really is sweet. How did I get so lucky? I start my car and pull out of the parking lot. The drive goes by quickly and before I know it, I'm pulling into the familiar drive way. I park my car, and let myself into the house.

"Honey, I'm back from hell!" I call out. I make my way down to Chris's room when I get no answer. He's not there, but some of his clothes are laid out on the bed. He's laid out one of his hoodies and some sweats. It just seems a little hot for all of that. I grab a shirt from his closet, one that's been worn soft and open the drawer he had kindly donated to hold my growing collection of clothes at his house. I grab a pair of shorts, then change my mind. I grab a pair of his boxers and a pair of black thigh high compression socks. My legs are already aching from that shift, so I'll need the support. I set it on his bed and go to his bathroom. I take my make up off and let my hair down before going back into his room to change.

Once I'm changed and I've deemed myself suitable for public sight, I head upstairs to the room they always stream in. I can hear them yelling from down the hall. I softly open the door and slip in. Nick and Matt are busy yelling at Chris for dying.

"You're done! No more playing until you can stay alive for longer than five fucking minutes!" Nick yells. Matt takes over on playing the game. Chris turns around and spots me.

"Baby!" He rushes me and pulls me to his body. "I missed you!" He brings me to the couch they kept in the room against the wall.

"I missed you too. What are you guys playing?" I ask, sitting down. Chris takes my legs and puts them over his lap, sitting close to the rest of my body.

"Skyrim." He answers, taking one of my aching legs into his hands and begins rubbing. I let out a hiss. "You okay, doll?"

"Yeah, just a long ass shift. So fucking tired of John." I express to him.

"Tell him to fuck off." He makes his way up my leg, working his magic hands to ease the aches throughout my leg.

"I'd like to keep my job." I roll my eyes at him.

"Really? I heard there's a position open for my stay at home cutie. Pays seventeen kisses, twenty hugs, and unlimited cuddles and hour." He switches to the other leg.

"Really now? What about health benefits? Huh?" I try to keep my voice steady through his beginning ministrations on my other leg. From the look on his face, I didn't do a great job.

"You got me there, doll." He finishes with both legs after a few minutes and leans his upper body to lay on mine. This just so happens to put his head perfectly within range of my hands.

I reach one hand up and burrow it into his hair. I place my pointer and thumb on the outer sides of his nap and begin rubbing small circles into his skin. He groans softly.

"Baby, let me take care of you." He protests.

"No, this is what I want to do. I want you to lay here against me and let me play with your hair. Please?" I throw out a pout. He huffs.

"I'm making you something to eat in a little bit." He squints at me.

"Okay, monkey." I say, driving both my hands into his hair. I rub circles across his head, then I switch to lightly tracing his scalp with my nails. He lets out the smallest whine.

I start gently moving his hair around, running my hands through it and pulling them up before slowly releasing his hair so it drops back down to his head. He practically whimpers at the sensation. "Fuck ma, feels good. You're real good at this." He moves against my hand. I giggle. In my opinion, there's nothing more relaxing than playing with my favorite boy's hair.

"Good." I say. My stomach growls loudly.

"I think it's time I go make you something to eat." Chris perks up. My shoulders drop. "Don't worry, doll. I'll carry you, and you can continue playing with my hair once you've eaten." He places a wet kiss on my cheek.

"Okay, okay." I sigh. "Come on." He smiles brightly at me. God, how did I get so lucky to have such a sweet boy?

[sex-with-orwell]

LOTF Mr. Beast AU

[rookfeatherrambles]

Hey Tumblr, its been a hell of a few days for me. For those that don't know, on Sunday (June 2nd), I was in a car accident that really traumatized me, and I don't know if its going to affect me for another week or another 10 years. Details under the cut, as well as pictures of my injuries (no blood but bruises and scrapes, will be tagged appropriately).

My friend came up from Washington state to see me and wanted me to meet her at the hotel she was staying at. No problem. I'd just take an uber, from where I was located it would be an under 10$ trip. The uber gets there, I introduce myself, I place my purse into the car, and as I'm getting in, my earbud falls out and bounces off into who knows where. So I pause, one foot in the vehicle, one foot out, as I'm sort of stooping to look for this missing earbud. (It was important to me, more on that later). The back seat door is still wide open, but then, the driver decides to start driving. My foot is dragged back and twisted, and the rest of my body follows, and I'm screaming as I hit the ground and feel the wheel going over my leg. I think my first thought was that it had been ripped from my body. I was dragged a few feet down the street while passengers screamed to the driver to stop the car, and I don't think I've ever felt that kind of pain before. My throat is raw from screaming and crying. The car stops, people come and the driver tries to control the situation. All I ask through my sobs is 'is my leg still there?' and yes, miraculously, it is still there. I'm offered hands, but I lift myself up under my own power, extremely in shock. I'm not bleeding. Just scraped to hell with a tire track on my skin like a brand and terrified. Other parts of me also were scraped up, but I didn't notice until later. People are talking to me, all I want to do is be with my friend, so I look the driver in the face and tell him to take me to my destination, where I meet up with my friend. I am in shock all night. The driver asked me if I was okay, and upon me saying yeah, fine (I was not fine) he tells me he's not going to report this to Uber because its just a few scrapes. Anyway, I visit with my friend, and under guidence of my great roommate, I go to a walk in clinic and wait for nigh on 4 hours to get my injuries documented and get checked out. The verdict? Whiplash, no broken bones. I ache like I'm 90 but that's to be expected. I'm off work for a week, I'm given a 200$ physiotherapy prescription, but unless I want to pay out of pocket, I need to contact uber and start an insurance claim. I do that. They tell me they're going to put me in touch with an insurer. I don't believe them. I get a consultation with a personal injury lawyer set up for this friday, and now we come to here and now. I need headphones to cope with sensory hell outside of my apartment, and they were not on me when I left, so they're long gone. 180$ earbuds. Truthfully, I have this gut feeling that Uber is going to do their best to discredit me and what happened, just like that driver. I can't get into a car now without remembering that agony of my leg being crushed under the wheel, and when I'm in any vehicle now, I'm plagued by panic and horrid images of gruesome demise. I genuinely think I might have PTSD, though I'll be looking into a formal diagnosis when i can get to it. When I can AFFORD it. I hate to do this so soon after asking about my back, but I'm out of work for I don't know how long now, I don't know how many physio appointments or THERAPY appointments i will need to get over this. I need to recoup my headphones, I need to get groceries delivered now (which is really pricy), I need to keep myself afloat until Uber decides to (or decides not to) make amends. I don't even know if they fired the driver. I just want to feel safe and I just want something done. Anyway, if you can donate, please do. I know I'm just the silly AU person (one of many) but I have to ask. I have no other choice. I'm just sorry I don't have anything to give in return. Paypal.me/xcannibal Proof of injuries below.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Nightlife 13

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, touching, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Part of The Club AU

You have to make the call. You have no choice. One way or another, your father will find out and it will be worse if it’s not from you.

Another D and you're below water. You have no chance now. You’ll be lucky to finish with a C average for the semester and with that, you’ll lose your entry scholarship. You don’t understand where you went wrong. You try so hard. It doesn’t matter, it seems the more you try, the more wrong you are.

You hit the green button and wait for the line to pick up. You wait.

Waiting.

Still waiting.

The voicemail answers. You’re not surprised. You often have to leave several before you hear back. Yet when your father calls you, you answer. You don’t hesitate. 

“Hey dad, it’s me. I called because… because I need to talk to you. Please call me back. Love you.”

You hang up after leaving the message and blow a raspberry. He hasn’t even told you when he’s picking you up from campus after exams. Another week and you’re going to be done. You already have half your dorm packed.

In those short spurts where you’re not at Lee’s, you're sorting everything into the donate and take piles. Most of it you’ll leave behind, things you won’t need at your dad’s place. Things you can replace.

As soon as you put your phone down, it vibrates. You huff and pick it up. You need to study, even if it doesn’t matter.

Lee. Again. You’re not surprised. You almost admire his persistence given your own inconsistency.

‘Still coming over, sweet thing?’

Shoot. You don’t remember him asking. That’s the thing about Lee. He seems to frame demands as questions. Or maybe you really or that hopeless. You answer him. Sure. Why not? Not like anything will change if you do.

You get your bag ready to go and head down. Your dorm mates are bogged down studying, a few already gone as their exams finished early. Life seems easier as them. You suppose that most people see the world like that; they want to be someone else, though no one would ever want to be you.

You sit on the curb and wait. You tune out the world with your headphones. It’s been a while since you listened to music. Really listened without any distraction. 

Your head pops up as you see the familiar car approach. You stand and cross the street. You get in the car. The routine is just that. You’re used to it. You haven’t told Lee yet either. He doesn’t know that you’re going home for summer. You don’t expect him to be happy to hear it but it can’t be a big surprise. All the college students are leaving.

“Hey, darlin’,” he leans over to kiss your cheek as you pull your earbuds out, “whatcha listening to?”

“Oh, just…nothing–”

“Nah, go on, put it on,” he insists as he hands you auxiliary cord, “I could use something new.”

“Really, it’s–”

“Come on, I wanna listen.”

You don’t argue. Why? It’s a small thing. It’s nothing. You unplug your headphones and shove the cord into the port. Your music plays automatically.

So come on, Virginia, show me a sign Send up a signal, I'll throw you the line The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind Never let's in the sun

Billy Joel croons from the speakers as you place your phone in the cupholder. You sit back and buckle in as he hums and gives a thoughtful nod. He taps his fingers on the wheel before he pulls out.

“You got a taste for the classics,” he muses, “I ain’t heard this in a while.”

“Uh, yeah, I like it,” you shrug.

“Good song,” he remarks, “I’m a fan of You May Be Right, myself. But I’m not too picky. You listen to Seger? How about Elton? You seem that sorta girl.”

“Some, yeah,” you cling to your bag and watch through the window.

“Hickory missin’ ya,” he says, “ain’t ya excited to see him?”

“Yeah,” you answer glumly.

“Whatsa matter, then? Don’t know why you’d be so down when you got that rascal waiting on ya… and me.”

“Just school,” reply evasively.

“Ah, yeah, you were saying you’re having some troubles. Wish I could help.”

“Ugh, well… no one can help me now,” you plant your elbow on your door and put your chin on your fist.

“Now, don’t be moping ‘less you gonna tell me what’s going on,” he says grumpily.

You sigh. You can barely admit it to yourself. You don’t even know if you can say it out loud.

Your vision turns bleary and you sniffle. It’s too late. You should’ve asked for help months ago. You made promises you didn’t keep and now you have to accept the failure. You wipe away your tears and sit back.

“My GPA is garbage. I’m gonna lose my scholarship and my dad– my dad’s gonna kill me.”

“Oh, honey, kill you? Don’t talk like that. I’m sure he wouldn’t, not a sweet thing like you. Besides, if he’s an ass about it, you still got me, don’t ya?”

You nod but refuse to look at him. He’s sweet but he can’t understand. Your dad isn’t the type to just say oh well or to give second chances. This semester was a second chance and you blew it.

“Maybe it just isn’t for you. Schoolin’ and all. I know lots of people who never did it,” he speaks as he drives. “Or maybe you’re in the wrong kinda school.”

“Maybe,” you grumble and pick at the zipper on your bag.

“You can change, can’t ya? Pick something else. Something you’re better at,” he suggests. “Like I said, I went into the military. They offered me some school but I told ‘em not to waste the time.”

“I don’t know what I’m good at,” you sigh.

“Well, you’re good to me,” he says brightly, “you know I’ll help ya. I’ll take care of ya no matter what.”

“But you don’t have to.”

“I wanna. Why are you sayin’ that?”

“Cause… cause it’s a lot. Don’t you think?”

“No, wouldn't say it if I thought it was too much,” he rebuffs, “don’t get no attitude with me, now.”

“I– I’m not but… but… I don’t want to…” you shake your head and stare at the dash, “I’m going home for the summer, Lee. I have to go home. And I feel bad with you doing all this–”

“Going home?” He says so quietly, his voice almost cracks, “but, darlin’, I’m taking you home right now. Ain’t I?”

“That’s your home. I mean, my dad. I gotta… I gotta figure this all out. When he finds out–”

“You’re a goddamn adult,” he growls and grips the wheel tight, “you shouldn’t be so worried about him and damn it, he should be treatin’ ya a lot better.”

“I know, but he’s my dad. He– he paid my tuition. He’s gonna want me to work that off at the restaurant–”

“Work? He– What the heck is wrong with ya? You shouldn’t be workin’? Silly little thing. He’s your dad, he should be supportin’ ya, not takin’ from ya,” he seems angrier with each word, “what kinda man– and you’re gonna leave me for him?” He snarls, “just like that. You’re gonna hurt me?”

“Hurt you? No, but… but I have to.”

“You don’t gotta do nothing. Sounds to me like he don’t want anything to do with ya anyhow, so maybe you should stay in town.”

“My lease is over at the end of the month.”

“Mine ain’t,” he insists.

He’s quiet. You squirm and bite your lip, “Lee?”

“You said you was gonna marry me. How’re you gonna do that if you’re all the way somewhere else?”

“I know I said but… I’m nineteen. I thought you meant later.”

“I’m a lot older than nineteen,” he scoffs, “I’m not waiting til later.” He sneers through the windshield, “you said. You promised!”

“I did, but–”

“But? But you were just lyin’, I get it.”

You nearly choke. You weren’t lying. You just were caught off guard and didn’t know what to say. Like now. You're not just stunned by the sudden shift, you're scared.

“I didn’t lie,” you croak, “please…”

You cover your face and take several deep breaths, trying to hold back. He huffs and you feel his firm touch on your leg. He squeezes as he slows the car.

“Don’t cry, darlin’, alright? Don’t do none of that. I know you meant it. Let’s just figure this all out first, schoolin’ and all that. Alright?” He coaxes, “you know I’ll be there for ya, don’t ya? No matter what your dad says.”

“Yeah,” you drag your hands from your face.

“And I know you’re not gon’ leave Hick. He needs ya around.”

[yuurivoice]

Not answering is A-okay with me fyi, but I just wanted to say as someone who struggles, THANK YOU for the sh "content" take. Do some people have good intentions? Sure, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Do good intentions even begin to scratch the surface of qualifying someone to handle it in a respectful and proper way regardless of personal experience? Nah. Thanks for keeping your space cool and safe, you're a real one.

- appreciative long time follower

I appreciate the message because sometimes I second guess myself like omg is my stance on this too firm? So hearing that I'm making sense to someone is comforting.

If that sort of stuff has helped people, etc, and it never got weird, I'm glad it helped. I wouldn't want to diminish that experience.

At the same time, my exposure to this that radicalized me was when I stopped in on someone's stream to get some insight into a situation (untold years ago) and got some key info that I think set my opinion in stone.

People boasting that they were making content like that for vulnerable people, and that those people "need us", framing the dynamic in the most codependent, unhealthy way you could fathom.

People who had been making this content since they were MINORS, and into young adulthood, who were also at risk themselves at the time.

Financially incentivizing their help with donations and wishlists, leveraging their own struggles and lack to create what I feel is a radically unhealthy relationship between comfort/aid and risky spending.

So yeah. I don't take too kindly to idiots with microphones specifically targeting vulnerable individuals who need a hotline far more than a parasocial hyperfixation.

I don't speak on a whole lot on shit in the ASMR Roleplay slash hobbyist VA space, but that in particular is a rancid corner I stumbled across that I think invites some of the most at risk, vulnerable members of the community to put their wellness in the hands of people who I frankly wouldn't trust to put my fries in the goddamn bag let alone talk to me about the value of my life and why I should stick around.

If I seem harsh, it's because somebody damn well should be. Shit isn't a game.

Anywho......yep. The topic came up recently in private when I was dealing with an unrelated situation, and I remembered this exact thing and how much it bothered me.

I can respect anyone who would like to hear very specific comfort from one of my boys. I don't fault you for that. You know they'd want the best for you. I just don't think I can personally deliver it to you, and they wouldn't want me to, because I can't do nearly enough for you. You deserve better than care being pantomimed and imagined, and no matter how alone you feel, there are people who will fight for you, you gotta go grab them and tell them you need that. And if they fail, you try again, and again.

Me and my content can be a lot of things, and helping soothe aches is a big part of the job, but there are limits. I think there has to be for the safety and peace for everyone involved.

I can't risk putting myself in a spot where someone has to rely on me like that, and I wouldn't want to put them at risk either. Because I can fail. Maybe the words wouldn't be right. Or the tone didn't match their needs. Or it was just too little too late.

For everyone, that's a path we shouldn't go down. But we can still support one another. I think my characters and their stories are filled with messages and purpose for people who are in need, because I've been there. Quite literally, I'm familiar with the territory. So what I've created reflects that journey. It may not be specifically comfort for the thing. But the underlying meaning and purpose is one that speaks to some of those dark places.

Or not. Because it's art. You'll take what you want from it. But you'd probably find it there if you need to.

Anywho. Thanks for the message, Anon. Take care of yourselves, everyone. 💖

[gemini-sensei]

Hear me out... (unedited)

Reader just broke up with her boyfriend. She's sad about it, yeah, mostly because she's been looking for "the one." All she's ever wanted was to marry the love of her life and have a family with them, but it's slowly starting to feel like that is impossible as everyone she's gone out with has either said she isn't their type or things don't end well. Case and point, her most recent ex who found someone else...

Reader feels a little hopeless. As her friends start to make families of their own, she feels even worse. She's there for them as they go through pregnancy and have their babies, being an aunt to their kids and a babysitter when her friends want to have a night out. She loves the little ones, but at the same time, she feels cheated out of the life she wanted for herself.

Hawk, her best friend, watches from the sidelines and doesn't know what to do. He takes her out in an attempt to forget about it, distracts her mind from it all. The one time they got drunk, she swore up and down about how her ex made so many empty promises to her and how upset she was when he left because she thought he was the one. Why couldn't he have been the one?

She cried in Hawk's arms before throwing up on the bar floor. After that, he decided that drinking wasn't the best distraction. So they did other things... like play video games and go sight seeing and practice karate.

Reader appreciates everything he does for her. He's the best and she always tells him as much.

It's when Yasmine is pregnant that she comes to a realization. Well, Moon helps her get there.

As the two women are leaving Yasmine and Demetri's home, Reader says something about how she can't wait to have all of this; the lush house, the loving partner, a baby on the way. It's not the first time they've talked about this.

"Why wait at all?" Moon asks.

Reader sighs. "I don't know. I'm still trying to find that special someone, you know?"

"They're not worth waiting on if you're ready for a baby," Moon tells her. It's quiet for a moment, Reader a little warm in the cheeks. "Reader, we all know how long you've wanted a family. Sometimes it's all you talk about. Just skip the search for someone and go for the baby. No one said you had to actually have a partner to have a baby."

Reader looks at her, a little stunned. She knew single women had babies all the time, through whatever means led them to that path in life, but she never considered it for herself. She blinks and licks her lips, smiling. "I'll have to think about it."

Moon giggles. "Definitely think it over."

And she does. Reader thinks about it for months before she comes to a decision.

The first person she tells is Hawk.

"I've decided I'm gonna have a baby," she tells him.

He laughs. "We all knew this about you."

"No, I mean soon. I'm gonna get pregnant soon and have a baby, Hawk." He looks at her questionably because he's known her plan all their lives: meet the person of her dreams first, then start a family. Sitting with her in his lonely apartment, he knows she's single as fuck. She knows he knows this and goes on to elaborate. "I'm tired of waiting for someone to love me enough to have a baby with me. I'm just gonna do it myself."

"Okay, but that's a lot more responsibility put on you," he says, concerned and only looking out for her best interest.

She nods. "I know. I've thought through all of it. I know what I'm doing."

He stares at her and sees how determined she is in this decision. Whether he thinks her doing this on her own isn't the best idea or not, he knows he won't be able to change her mind. "Okay. So are you gonna go to a sperm bank and tell them you want a donation?"

"No," she says and he almost chokes on air.

"What?"

"That's too expensive," she tells him. "I can spend that money on something a lot better. I mean, who knows how much I'd waste if it doesn't take the first or second or even third time, you know? I'm just gonna find a tinder hookup and go from there."

Now he puts his foot down in protest. "No. No way, Reader. For someone who's put a lot of thought into this, that is the worst way to go. I mean, you could meet someone dangerous or someone that you don't want to get you pregnant. Just save up for the clinic."

"I don't want to wait for that," she tells him, looking at him rather cross. But it's more out of desperation than being angry. "What other choice do I have?"

He says it before he thinks it through. "You have me."

She stares at him stunned. "What?"

He swallows hard but committs to it. "Reader, I don't want you getting hurt. I mean, all I want is for you to be happy. I'd do anything for you. I'd kill for you and you know that. So why not this?"

She sits silently and listens, then asks, "You'd really do this for me?"

"I'd do this with you," he tells her. He takes her hand and squeezes it. "Then you wouldn't have to do this alone and the kid can have both parents around."

She smiles.

"This is what best friends are for, right?"

She laughs and hugs him, nearly knocking him over. "You're the most amazing best friend ever!"

They hold each other for a moment longer than maybe what was necessary, then pull away from each other. He smiles at her a little cheeky.

"So, should I go get a turkey baster?"

He hits him on the arm. "Shut up! And no!" She sits shyly for a moment, cheeks growing hot. "That's another reason I didn't wanna use a clinic... I still want the have the whole... involved experience."

His eyes darken and he licks his lips. "Oh, I see."

He puts a hand on her thick thigh and squeezes it. She giggles nervously and puts her hand on his.

"Now isn't the time," she tells him, quickly explaining, "I'm not ovulating."

"We could still practice," he offers, wearing a cheeky smile.

She bites her lip and nods. "Yeah, a little practice wouldn't hurt."

They move to his bedroom, where their friendship takes on a whole new meaning. As he holds her pudgy waist and pounds her from behind, he silently hopes it takes some time for her to get pregnant because it's the best sex he's ever had. She moans and curls her fingers into the sheets, also wishing the same thing.

And even when they're cuddling in his sheets after their practice run, they're blind to the fact that this changes everything. But it does at least open up their hearts to the truth that's been there all along: they've been each other's meant to be for a long time. They just don't realize it yet, just like they haven't all these years they've been friends.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap- Chapter 16

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a little heavier (as is the story going forward, but I'll include potential triggers for each chapter as relevant), so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so. Also, this chapter's a little longer since I likely won't be able to upload this Friday due to work commitments.

Potential Trigger Warnings: none

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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Stella’s house is a bustle of energy by 10am. The hair stylist and make up artist are setting up while the photographer is milling around getting photos of the dress and accessories as they get laid out. Me, Stella and the bridesmaids are all sipping fresh coffees as we try to wake up. The excitement is definitely in the air, but so is the tiredness from the early wake up call. I lay out some freshly baked breakfast snacks, kindly donated by Stewie for the big day; while he declined to do the cake weeks ago, once he got back in the kitchen he promised to provide some light snacks for the morning. We are all thankful for his contribution, as none of us feel like cooking. 

Felicity and Gabriella are the first in the chairs; while they of course want to spend the most time on the bride, it’s also important that she’s the freshest. I enjoy sitting back, relaxing and snacking while I wait for my turn. While I wait, I scroll through my photos for the hair and makeup inspiration pics I took offline and then connect up to Stella’s bluetooth speaker and put on some music to boost the mood. The stylists start some small talk about the bride and groom, how they met, the bachelorette party, the plans for tonight, anything they can think of to build the excitement. We all join in, sharing happy and funny stories. 

After a while, Stella and I are finally sitting side-by-side as the stylist brushes and curls her hair and the beautician applies foundation to my face. It’s everything I could have dreamed it would be, and I can’t help but hope that one day the roles are reversed and she’s by my side while they’re styling my hair for my wedding. I push the thought away before I can imagine any other parts of that fictional day, like who the groom could be. Instead, I root myself in the present, wanting to enjoy this day for what it is: one of the best days of my best friend’s life and so by default, mine.

A few hours later, me and the bridesmaids are helping eachother into our dresses carefully, trying our best not to disturb our hair and makeup. The stylists are still standing around on standby to complete any final touchups, but we all know there isn’t time for a redo if we mess anything up too much. Once we’re all dressed, we finally help Stella into her snow-white ballgown-style wedding dress. I help straighten out the off-shoulder straps over her biceps, ensuring the sequins don’t scratch her, while Felicity carefully kneels down to fluff out the skirt. I then pull her hair out from where it caught in the back of her dress and smooth it out along her back, careful not to catch or pull on her perfectly styled curls and bun. 

When I come back around in front of her I take both of her hands in mine. “So beautiful, Nick isn’t gonna know what hit him.” The bridesmaids agree with me, gushing over the fully-dressed bride. We all put on the final touches like our shoes and jewellery while the stylists check and touch up our hair and makeup as necessary, just before we’re interrupted by a car horn outside. I look over at Stella with a big smile, “Time to go marry yourself a husband!”

Stella squeals with excitement. We collect our bouquets and purses and head outside. There are two classic cars in the driveway all decorated up; one for me and Stella and one for the other two bridesmaids. I help Stella in, being sure not to crumple her dress or veil or get it caught in the door when I shut it behind her, I then round the car and get in the other side. The bridesmaid’s car pulls out first and then ours follows a close distance behind. Stella’s knee bounces all the way to the chapel. I let her squeeze my hand as she tries to steady her nervous excitement. 

When the cars pull up out the back, the carpark is already full and her parents are waiting by the door. I get out and then help Stella out before straightening out her dress and making sure she looks perfect. I then hand her over to her parents. They pull her in for a big hug as I step to the side with Felicity and Gabriella. The three of us walk inside and stand just behind the doors in a line as one of the organisers explains the process to us, despite having gone through a full rehearsal last night. I smile back at Stella, standing between her parents as I hear the bridal march begin to play through the chapel. As the organisers push open the large wooden doors everyone stands and turns around. Felicity and Gabriella start to walk down the aisle first, followed by me and then finally Stella and her parents. As I look up at Nick I can see the tears in his eyes as he focuses on his beautiful bride. I smile brighter. Once I reach the front I step to the side and face the crowd as I watch Stella step up to her husband-to-be. He kisses her cheek and takes her hands as her parents pass her to him. I step forward to take her bouquet before standing back to the side. She gives me a grateful smile before focusing fully on her groom and I just know that everyone else has fallen away in their minds and it’s just the two of them there together.

The ceremony is beautiful, it goes perfectly according to plan, just as everything in their life does. The celebrant welcomes everyone and starts the ceremony before prompting them to share their personalised vows. They both share their promises and words of love through teary eyes before exchanging their rings. Then, after sharing a passionate kiss, they run hand-in-hand back down the aisle, out the wooden doors and into a waiting car. Everyone follows behind to see them off. We wave excitedly as they zoom off for a private photoshoot before the reception. As everyone mills around outside and chats, I try to emerse myself in idle conversation to pass time. The doors to the restaurant won’t open for a little while so we need to pass time. Eventually, once the sun is beginning to set everyone starts to file into their cars and make their way over to the venue; I want to be in there and set up before the bride and groom make their big entrance. Gabriella, Felicity and I catch a ride with Travis in the hire car they came in, Travis rode with the groom so is happy to drive the rental with us. 

The restaurant is beautifully decorated, just as we left it. With party favours on each table and stunning centrepieces, made up of flower arrangements. Each seat is labelled to match the seating plan that I’d painstakingly helped Stella and Nick create to ensure the smoothest night possible. Most people get along, but every family has those few people that are best kept apart for whatever reason. Everything is exactly as I remember except a small stage set up in the corner with a sound system and instruments. Despite no one being near them, quiet music is playing behind the chatter of everyone’s conversations about how great the service was and how beautiful everything is and just catching up in general. It’s amazing how weddings can bring everyone together, I see people you haven’t spoken to in years. Of course, I don’t no many people there, but that’s okay, today’s not about me. I’m just thrilled for Stella. 

I visit the bar and order a wine to get my night started before I move around the room doing my best to mingle and chat with her family and a few of our shared friends from college that I haven’t spoken to in a while. Most of them have partners accompanying them, but a few are single. After a while, everyone finally takes their allocated seats. A few gasps and whispered chatter ring out around the room seconds before live music starts to play from behind me. Just as I’m about to turn around everyone starts to cheer as the bride and groom make their big entrance. I join them clapping and cheering as yI give them the biggest smile as they make their way – the long way around – to their seats in the middle of the bridal table. It’s only when I turn to look over at Stella and Nick that I catch the band in my peripheral vision and my jaw drops. 

I force myself to keep my focus on the lovely new couple and not make eye contact with the man expertly strumming his guitar from the small stage. The raging ball of guilt in my stomach does a sommersault and I feel sick but push it back down. Thankfully, Travis takes the attention of the room by standing up to toast the newly weds and give a short speech. I keep my eyes firmly on him as he speaks. Once he finishes he nods over to me as he introduces me for the maid-of-honor speech. It takes me a moment to acknowledge him. But once I get ahold of myself, I stand up and focus on my notes as I attempt to deliver the speech smoothly. I push everything else out of my mind for those painfully slow few minutes as I focus on the bride and groom and tell stories about mine and Stella’s friendship and how happy I am that she found Nick and how happy I hope and know they’ll be together as they move into this next stage in their life. I finally raise my glass and everyone cheers. I wink at Stella as I sit down.

Before the meals are set to come out, Stella informs me that she needs to use the bathroom. I follow her in and help her lift up the massive skirt and keep it from getting dirty while she uses the toilet.

“Was that your doing?” I ask as she pees.

“I told you, I got an offer that I couldn’t refuse. Plus, Dean Winchester was my crush first. How could I turn that down. I don’t know what happened or didn’t between the two of you, but he was very persuasive.”

“How? I didn’t…”

“I don’t know how he figured it out but maybe three days ago the venue called me and said someone had offered to play for the wedding, they gave him my number. And as I said, he was very persuasive.” I help Stella fix her dress while she washes her hands. “It’s my wedding, I got a band that I happen to love. If that also results in my best friend getting her plus one and a dance then that’s just a bonus. I hope you know that I expect a full, detailed explanation of everything that has already gone down and everything that goes down while I’m on my honeymoon, once I get back.”

“We’ll see. For now, tonight’s about you! So let’s get you back out there to your husband!” Ilead her back to the table just in time for the alternative drop meals to be delivered. After dinner, each of their parents and a few other guests give speeches before handing back over to the bride and groom to give their speeches to each other. I engross yourself in the speeches to keep my eyes from wandering to the back of the room. Although amongst all the kind words and talk of eternal love I notice that the background music isn’t being played by a live guitar anymore but instead is a quiet pre-recorded romance track. With that revelation, I let my eyes wander and I notice the stage is free of people. Knowing he’s no longer so close behind me, at least for a few minutes I relax slightly. 

By the time all the speeches are over, the band’s back in place playing quietly as Stella and Nick stand in the centre of the room to cut their cake. As the knife scrapes the plate, they kiss and everyone cheers. The staff then come in to take the cake to the kitchen to slice it up and prepare the desserts. My attention is instantly drawn to the band when I hear Jensen’s deep voice sing the first notes to the song Stella picked for their first dance. I’mamazed that he either already knew it or learned it in just a few days. Stella and Nick take eachother’s hands and move slowly in time with the music. I watch as they gracefully move across the floor. Her head rests on his shoulder as he leads. 

As the song ends and the next one starts Felicity and Gabby nudge me and I quickly stand up and take hands with Travis as he leads me to the floor, followed by the two bridesmaids and groomsmen. I do my best to throw myself into the dance and focus on Travis as he leads me, dancing surprising well for what I know of him. Once the song ends I try to pull back but he holds me close. “I know the kind of man you know me to be, but I promised I wouldn’t let you dance alone or sit out tonight.”

“You didn’t have to do that…I’m okay.”

“I did…Stella’s surprisingly scary.” 

I smile and nod, prepared to let him lead me into the next song. But as the next song starts I notice the voice filling the room is different. Someone comes up behind us and places a hand on my shoulder. “Mind if I have this dance?”

I flick my head around to look at the owner of the deep, Texan drawl. 

Travis looks at me to check and I nod. “Alright,” he says as he steps back, “She’s all yours.”

I smile at Travis as he walks off to find someone else to dance with before spinning around and taking Jensen’s hands and letting him sway me with the slow beat. In a hushed voice I say, “I can’t believe you’re here…”

“You stopped answering my messages or calls…What choice did I have?”

“To forget me…Move on?”

He shakes his head. “I know this isn’t the time or place to have the conversation we need to have, so will you meet me tomorrow?” I meet his eyes briefly and nod. “Good, then let’s just enjoy this dance.” I rest my head on his shoulder for the remainder of the song. Just before the song ends he spins me out and back into his chest. “I promised the bride a dance, so I should go. But thank you. I plan to steal another from you later.”

“Yeah, she’s a pretty big Dean fan…She couldn’t believe I didn’t know you.” 

He lets out a little chuckle, “Yeah, you’re rare and special. Save another dance for me later?” I nod and he pulls away and crosses the floor to where Stella and Nick are playfully dancing to the now upper-tempo song. When Jensen cuts into their dance Nick comes over to me. We both stand off to the side, leaning against the bridal table. 

“Hey, so, uh…I owe you an apology,” he says, breaking the awkward silence.

“Nah, it’s alright. You were just looking out for your bride, as you should. I’d be more mad if you didn’t.”

“Maybe, but I did go overboard. I just get protective when it comes to her…But I should’ve known pushing you away would make her mad too. I’m just glad she didn’t call today off.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t, she loves you. And she knows you were acting from a place of love when you did it. So do I. Plus…you weren’t all wrong, but this isn’t the time or place. We should get back out there before your bride physically drags us out there herself.”

“Yeah…thanks for helping make all this happen by the way. I don’t think I ever told you, but you’ve been a massive help. That’s another reason I’ve felt so bad for what I said, despite what I said you kept turning up and helping with everything. You already know she appreciates it, but I do too.”

I look around the room. “I’m just glad it all worked out. You guys deserve a fantastic night.” Not sure what else to say, I take his hand and lead him out onto the dancefloor.

Jensen moves back and forth between the stage and the dancefloor, doing his job performing but also giving the people what they want and dancing with any girl who recognises him. The night’s almost wrapping up by the time he gets back to me. I’m leaning against the wall finishing a glass of wine when he come up to me.

“So, I was just informed the next song’s the last…care to join me?” He holds his hand out to me expectantly. 

I finish the last mouthful of wine, put the empty glass on the nearest table and take his hand. After everything I’ve said and done and after he pushed so hard to be here, I feel you owe it to him, but also I really want to be in his arms again. He leads me into the middle of the room as his bandmate starts to play and sing a slower love song. He pulls me close, his hands resting on the middle of my back, not letting them fall too low. Mine rest around his neck as we sway in time with the music. As the song goes on, he starts to sing along quietly, just loud enough for me to hear. 

“I've been waitin' for so long

For somethin' to arrive

For love to come along

Now our dreams are comin' true

Through the good times and the bad

Yeah, I'll be standin' there by you

Baby you're all that I want

When you're lyin' here in my arms

I'm findin' it hard to believe

We're in heaven

And love is all that I need

And I found it there in your heart

It isn't too hard to see

We're in heaven”

Once the song ends he pulls back, but only far enough that he can make eye contact with me. “Give me a chance…let me come over, or come to my hotel, or meet me somewhere neutral, location doesn’t matter, just please…for whatever reason I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Jens…”

“I’m just asking to talk.”

I nod. “Alright, but somewhere private. We don’t need a repeat of last time, tonight’s gonna be bad enough.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” I hear Stella say from behind us. I pull away from Jensen to face her.

“Congratulatious on the big night. I hope you had a great time,” he says to Stella.

“Thank you. And thank you for coming and playing for us tonight, it was much better than a jukebox. Plus, you made a lot of people’s nights,” she looks at me with a smirk, “Most of all my amazing maid-of-honor here, and believe me, she totally deserved a great night after all the hard work she’s put into making it happen.”

He looks at me and smiles, “Yeah. Well anyway, I better help Steve pack up the gear.”

Once Jensen’s out of ear-shot, Stella says, “I’m so sorry for interrupting, that seemed important, but Nick and I are gonna head out, but I couldn’t disappear on my honeymoon without saying goodbye to you first, and thanking you for everything.”

“I’m just glad you had a great night,” I pull her in for a hug.

When she pulls away she reaches over for her bouquet on the bridal table. “Amid everything I forgot to do the toss, but…” She hands it to me. “Give him a chance. Give yourself a chance.”

“Stel…” I shake my head while smiling at her, “Just go and enjoy your honeymoon. We’ll talk when you get back.”

As Nick approaches, she quickly says, “I’m definitely gonna do that! Thank you, I love you and I’ll talk to you in 10 days!”

He wraps his arms around her waist as he comes up behind her. “You two have fun!”

The remaining guests wave the happy couple out as they run out hand-in-hand. Everyone else filters out pretty quickly after that but I hang around to gather some of the decorations and items that I know Stella will want to keep, such as photos, the wishing well, and the guestbook. Just as I finish getting everything important into a couple of boxes, Jensen comes back up beside me. “Need a hand?”

“I can manage, you should go.”

Felicity call out from the doorway, “Hey Y/N, need a ride? My Uber’s here!”

I look over at her and then back at Jensen apologetically. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Uh, yeah…” he nods, and I pick up one of the boxes but he puts his hand on it to stop me as I turn around. “ Unless, you wanna stay back for a night cap, I can call you a ride after. It doesn’t have to be with me, I can get you your own.”

I hesitate and Felicity calls out again, “Y/N! He’s getting impatient. We gotta go!”

I look between her and Jensen again and then sigh before waving at her and calling out. “You go. I gotta finish up here.”

She rolls her eyes at my hesitation before disappearing outside.

Obviously feeling guilty for putting me in a difficult position, Jensen takes his hand off the box in my hands and apologises.

“It’s fine. I would’ve had to do a few trips and they wouldn’t have liked that either. But I can get my own ride, it’s fine. And, uh, I think they’re gonna kick us out, so the night cap’s probably gonna be out too, sorry.” I look around and notice it’s just the two of us left inside. I put the box back on the table to rest my arms for a moment.

“Alright. How much are you against getting a ride together at least? I don’t wanna overstep or anything. I just want more time,” He gestures at the boxes, “Plus, I could give you a hand with all this.”

I bite my lip as I consider his offer. “Listen, I’m too tired and too tipsy and this is gonna come out all wrong, but I just need you to know that just because you came all this way doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with you.”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times as he tries to come up with a response. “No, I…I don’t expect you to…That’s not…I wasn’t insinuating.”

I nod. “Alright good. A ride and the boxes. That’s it then. I just need your arms.” I pick up a box and then realise what I said. “That’s not…I just mean…”

“I get it. It’s fine. Let me just call my driver and then I’ll give you a hand with those.” He pulls out his phone.

“Your…driver?” I shake my head. “It must be nice…”

“It’s not what you think. He’s a good friend.” Jensen shakes his head as he holds his phone up to his ear. “Hey Clif…Yeah, I’m ready if you just wanna pull up round back…Yeah…” he glances back over at me with a smile. “We need to make a stop on the way though…Yep, I’ll cover it…See you soon.” He hangs up and leans against the table looking at me before he grabbing the other box and walking out to the parking lot with me. 

While we wait for his friend to bring the car around, he says, “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been too forward or given the wrong signals. I don’t mean to. I didn’t come all this way to attempt to win you over for sex…I just wanted to give you a reason to talk to me. As I said, I can’t stop thinking about you, and I couldn’t leave things the way we did.”

A large black car pulls up in front of us and a tall, muscular man gets out of the driver’s seat and opens the trunk. Jensen puts his box in and I follow suit. Jensen then opens the back door for me to climb in. I slide over to the far side and he climbs in beside me. Once the driver takes his seat again he turns around, “Where to boss?”

“You can drop the act Clif, she knows you’re a friend.”

“Alright, Boss. Where to?”

Jensen rolls his eyes and then looks over at me. I tell them my address and Clif keys it into the GPS. Despite wanting to use the time to respond to Jensen’s confession outside the restaurant, I feel awkward with his friend in the front seat. Between the nervous energy and the adrenalin in my system, my leg starts to bounce. Jensen notices and after hesitating a few times, finally places his hand on my knee; he doesn’t slide it any higher, just sits it comfortingly on the top of my knee. We endure the rest of the ride in silence until Clif finally finds a park on the street in front of my apartment building.

“Am I waiting?” Clif asks.

Jensen looks at me, smiles and then nods. “I’m just gonna help her with those boxes, I’ll be right back.” I open my door and Jensen follows suit. He opens the trunk and we each take a box and then I lead him inside to the lift.

As I press the button, I look up at him. “You can just leave it, I can manage from here.”

“You don’t want me to see your place?”

“Honestly? Not really…But also, you’ve done more than enough.”

The lift dings as the doors open. He steps inside first, leaving me no choice but to follow. I put the box on the floor so I can press the button for my floor. Once the doors shut he says, “So, am I crazy? Am I chasing something that you’re never gonna be ready for?”

“No. I just have things I need to work through. Trust issues, personal issues, financial issues…Look I’m too tired for this conversation tonight. I know you came all this way, but…”

“Yeah, I came all this way and put you on the spot, which is exactly what I promised I wouldn’t do. I’m sorry.” The doors open and I lead him down to my apartment but stop in front of the door. I pull my keys out of my purse but don’t move to unlock the door. Sensing my uncertainty he places the box on the floor by my feet. “Take the night. I don’t want to push you. Just text me in the morning and let me know what you decide. I will step back completely if that’s what you want or need. But if you want to give us a chance, text me somewhere to meet and we can talk. Okay?”

I nod as I fiddle with the keys. He nods and turns and walks back down the hall to the elevator. I look down at the boxes and notice Stella’s bouquet sticking out the top; her words ring through my head. I look back over at Jensen just as the doors open. I call out, “Meet me at the cafe, 6pm!”

He smiles, nods and then steps inside. Once the doors close I let myself into my apartment, cart in the boxes and dump them in the corner. Not having the energy – physical or mental – to wash off my makeup, undo my hair or shower, I collapse on the couch.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

My Alpha Ch. 5

Donations | Send Thoughts Here | My Alpha Series| Chapter 4

You were up early the next morning, starting on breakfast as Declan instructed each group of alphas on what to do. Everyone seemed to be in agreement until Evan stepped forward, “I’m sorry but who put you in charge? I mean, you’re barely new to the pack and yet you’re going to order us around?” you stood up from the area in which you were tending to the food with a few other betas and wiped your hands off. “I did. My father is pack master, and Declan is a very well suited Alpha to guide us in unsure times.” You spoke confidently as you approached the group of alphas. A few chuckled and glanced around at each other. “yeah? and who put an omega bitch in charge?” Evan snapped back at you. 

Declan growled, gripping his throat in an instant. “Watch your mouth before I snap that jaw off.” The rest of the alphas instantly stepped back, realizing what was happening. 

An Alpha protecting his Omega. 

The pack stood in silence as Evan struggled in his grasp, “Get off me!” he choked out. “Declan.” you spoke stepping toward him, he dropped him, glancing back at you before looking at everyone else. “Anyone else have an issue with me stepping up to handle things while Pack Master is recovering?” They all mumbled and murmured no’s before they broke off to do as they were instructed. 

Declan turned to you and looked you over, “Are you okay?”  he asked softly as you smiled nodding, “I’m okay Declan,” you whispered as he hugged you. “I don't like him,” he grumbled as you laughed softly into his chest, “Me either, but he's part of the pack. I’m going to check on my father, once they gather enough supplies, why don’t we send the rest of the pack home? If dad isn’t waking up by tomorrow, we’ll have to carry him back down the mountain to town so the doctor can look at him.” you said as he nodded. “That sounds like a good plan,” he smiled softly, “I’m going to get to work on building a bit bigger of a fire, North winds are starting to get chilly.” he said as you smiled and nodded. “I should have enough supplies left to mix up a large batch of stew.” you said softly. 

“Won’t be necessary, We’re going home.” your fathers voice startled you. Turning around, you saw him walking slowly from his tent. “Dad!” you smiled and rushed over, “Take it easy, are you feeling okay?” you asked, grabbing his arm gently. Declan watched in slow motion as Arthur grabbed your arm and pushed you back toward the tent hard, causing you to fall to the ground. “Get your shit packed now. We’re leaving.” he growled, throwing out an alpha command. 

You stared up at him with tears in your eyes, “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” you asked as you attempted to stand up, but he grabbed your arm and yanked you up harshly. “I didn't tell you to speak! Go pack NOW!” he snapped. You let out a sob and rushed off, trembling as you made your way into your tent. 

Declan stormed over to him, “Hey! Leave her alone, she was only looking out for you and this pack while you were out.” he snapped, but Arthur turned and glared at him. “You.” he growled. “You keep your fucking hands off my daughter do you hear me? You even think of going near her again and I'll slit your throat myself.” he stood tall, squaring his shoulders. 

But Declan narrowed his eyes, “No.” he growled out, squaring up to the older alpha. “You’ll have to kill me, to keep me away from her. And I don’t think you want another dead pack member in your closet do you?” Declan growled quietly to the alpha, who in turn stared at him with wider eyes. 

“Thats right…I know. And I'm not afraid to tell Y/N…” Declan glared at him. Arthur stared at him with nostrils flared, as you came out of your tent with your bag slung over your shoulder, sniffling with tears still in your eyes. Arthur huffed, he couldn’t risk it. “Y/N…I’m sorry, my heads still a little messed up from my fall…Declan has agreed to walk back with you, the other alphas are going to pack up camp.” he hugged you close to him, but you barely hugged him back, “So go on, we’ll follow behind shortly. and Declan…no funny business. I’m trusting you to take care of my daughter.” he said as he shook his hand. Declan and Arthur shared a look, a silent communication before Declan looked at you and smiled softly, “Let’s get your things and get moving. I’ll get you some dinner before I drop you off at home.” he said walking past your father to help gather your bag. 

You glanced at your father, who just gave you a tight smile before turning back to the other pack members and giving orders. You turned and followed Declan as you both headed to the trail to make your way home. You were silent for a few minutes as you walked before he cleared his throat. “Y/N…I uh, I wanted to thank you for how helpful you’d been on this trip.” Declan said softly as you glanced up at him. “Thank you for helping take care of my father…I know he’s a bit much but he’s still my father.” you said looking down. Declan stared at you for a brief moment before he nodded softly. “Yeah, he sure is,” he said, raising his eyebrows. You sighed and turned continuing down the path. 

The walk was silent before you stopped and looked at Declan, “Declan would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?” he stopped and glanced at you but before he could respond you spoke again, “Like a date. I know usually the alpha asks out the omega but I like you and would like to go out with you, get to know you better.” you said jutting your chin up at him a little. 

Declan stared down at you with stone features before he smiled and chuckled “Well, I was planning on asking you out but yes, I would enjoy going on a date with you.” he grinned as you giggled, biting your lip and nodded. “I want to get cleaned up first though, so I can look nicer than I look now.” you said as Declan slid his hand into yours and smiled down at you. “You look beautiful just as you are,” 

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