#she is a person and i need to acknowledge the person checking my groceries

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

A fluffy/ mild angsty valentines fic with Bucky where reader gets HIM flowers ( because of the whole guys don’t get flowers thing :((( ) maybe there’s some mutual pining and sweet confession? Like she gets the flowers for him because he makes some joke about not having had a valentine for nearly a century and she’s just like “absolutely not will not allow that >:(“ but he thinks it’s just a joke at first :(

Anyway thanks! Love you!

Bloom.

bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none

valentines masterlist. inbox. masterlist.

“Are we almost done?”

Bucky looks so miserable, you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, we are. We just need flowers, and then we have everything on the list.”

He grabs the shopping cart and pushes it across the grocery store, determinedly marching in the right direction. You’re practically running to keep up with him.

“Which ones?”

You look at all the flowers, touching some of the petals gently as you decide.

“I’m not sure. What’s your favourite kind of flower, Buck?”

He looks at you with a blank expression.

“I don’t have one.”

“What?”

Now it’s your turn to look blankly at him.

“I’ve never been bought flowers. Why would I have a favourite type?”

You frown at him. The idea of Bucky never receiving flowers makes you much sadder than it should, but you’re trying to play it cool.

“Oh. Well… which of these do you like the look of the most? They’re going to go in the middle of the table in the kitchen, so they need to be bright. Give the room some colour.”

He circles the flower display a few times, looking around carefully. Eventually, he picks up a bouquet of tulips, all pinks and oranges and yellows.

“I like these.”

You smile softly, nodding your head.

“Good choice.”

You’re somewhat distracted as the two of you check out. You put the tulips in the bag carefully, glancing at Bucky every so often. He catches you looking, and can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’ve been standing outside Bucky’s door for the better part of fifteen minutes.

He knows.

He heard your footsteps, can hear your chest heaving, lungs working overtime. He’s just waiting for you to make your own decision.

Eventually, you do. After thirty minutes, you decide to just do it. You’ve got nothing to lose.

You knock.

Bucky swings open the door as if he’s been waiting for you, standing patiently on the other side.

“Breathe, honey.”

You didn’t even realise you’d been holding your breath. You exhale, never breaking eye contact with the man in front of you.

“Hi, Buck.”

“Hi, you.”

“I got you something.”

“You did?”

You grab the bouquet from where you’ve leant it against the wall, holding it out to him.

He stops in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“They’re… for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You inhale deeply, willing yourself to find some temporary courage.

“Because tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. And no one has ever bought you flowers.”

He’s smiling now, soft and knowing.

“You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

He says it so sincerely, so genuinely, that it makes you want to cry. You hand the flowers to him, grinning as he admires them up close.

“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

That takes you by surprise.

You and Bucky have always had a careful, consistent friendship. Ever since he first barrelled into your life, you’ve thrown tender smiles his way, nodding your head in acknowledgement every time he passed you in the hallways. He warmed to you, slowly but surely. Your kindness, your generosity, your genuineness - you’ve charmed him delicately, somewhat accidentally.

You’ve also been in love with him since day one.

You never thought to mention it - he’s healing, learning, growing as he goes, and you don’t want to halt his progress. So, you’ve pined from a distance, gently and quietly.

“Buck… will you be my valentine?”

He beams at you, the most luminescent smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been working up the courage to ask you that every year since I met you. Knew you’d beat me to it.”

You laugh, stepping in closer to him. He puts the flowers down carefully, reaching out to cup your face in his hands.

“Can I kiss you, my valentine?”

You nod, already leaning in. He presses his lips to yours, and he swears he feels flowers bloom in his ribcage, bright and alive.

[urcoolgf]

APARTMENT 7B

this is just something i wrote for my creative writing class, && i wanted to share because the plot lowkey ate (&& yes, i named the main character drew—it’s obviously fiction) but, since i wrote it for a class it’s in third person, && i gave ‘the girl’ a name... also this is literally 9 pages in google docs, so the fact it’s not even that long when it’s in this format is so funny to me

he had never seen her. the only evidence of her existence was the soft voice he could hear coming from the other side of his studio apartment’s paper-thin walls. he had never seen anyone enter, or leave, apartment 7B, and there was never a second voice. she talked the most at night, murmuring one-sided conversations, or singing soft melodies to herself. he listened… every single night. he never heard her door close, never heard her old floorboards creak in the eerie way his would, the sink never ran, the refrigerator never hummed.

he had been living in 7C for the past six months, and had never acknowledged what came from the other side of the wall. he figured she didn’t know he could hear her yet, she continued talking—some of it random lists of groceries, or chores, other times it was more poetic, almost like lyrics. it was weird hearing her talk about groceries when he was pretty certain she never left her apartment. he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about knocking—on the wall, on the door. today at 10:47pm, his impulse screamed at him until he couldn't hear her voice anymore—drowned out by the urge to know, so he knocked against the pale wall. it was light, gentle, like he didn’t want to startle her into going quiet. her voice cut off abruptly, but there was no return knock.

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he said softly. he knew she could hear him… because he could hear her uneven breaths. he waited for her to speak, but she gave him no response. she waited a few minutes before eventually continuing to talk, ignoring his advance completely. He leaned against the wall, defeated until she began talking about him in short, broken up sentences. 

“drew comes home every monday through thursday at 4:00pm, and every friday at 2:00pm—must have a corporate job. never goes grocery shopping on a specific day, but i like that. last night he had a few friends over, two other distinct male voices—enzo and matthew. they’re funny. they make him laugh,” her voice faded as she moved to the other side of the apartment. he should have been freaked out, should have stormed over there, pounded on the door, and demanded answers. was she watching him? why was this not more concerning to him? shamefully enough, he was intrigued. he knocked against the cold wall once more, a little louder this time. 

“hey, who are you? you watchin’ me?,” his brows furrowed in confusion, but he couldn’t stifle the short, breathless laugh and curious smirk that accompanied his words. instead of an answer, he was met with a new melody; she began humming a familiar tune. it didn’t take long for him to realize it was one of the songs he had been playing quietly through his speakers last night. humming turned into quiet singing, and—while he was confused, and curious—he moved to lay in bed, listening intently to her rhythmic tone. sleep overtook him unwillingly as his eyes lulled shut to the sound of her voice. 

somehow, he startled himself awake, turning to check his phone—3:29am. the other side of the wall was silent, so she must have been asleep. without thinking, he made his way over to the small kitchen counter. he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the drawer.

You know everything about me. I think I at least deserve a name. 

he didn’t sign it. there was no need. she knew his name, knew his friends’ names, knew his schedule. unless she was keeping tabs on everyone on the floor, she would know it was him. slipping outside of his apartment as quietly as possible, he found himself staring at the ‘7B’ plate that was plastered on her wooden door. he quickly slipped the note through the crack at the bottom of the door, and shuffled back into his apartment, closing the door softly.

it was hard to go back to sleep that night. his thoughts were running wild, and—even though he would never admit it—he missed her voice. it was soft, but certain, like the filth of the world had never touched it—never heard it, or had the chance to taint it, or make her doubt it. so, he waited. he waited until exhaustion eventually got the best of him and lured him into sleep…

and he waited for her.

days passed with no response. no note back, no recognition that he had even slid something under her door at all. she still talked like nothing had changed—like he hadn’t acknowledged her presence, or tried talking to her—like he hadn’t tried getting answers. he found himself rushing home just to see if she had written back, or maybe he just rushed home to hear her voice. he began staking out the peephole like it was his full-time job. she never had any mail, or packages delivered. he had knocked on her door a couple times when he walked by just to see if she would look through her peephole. he poked his head around the corner of his door every time he heard a noise in the hallway like he was trying to catch her in the act. nothing. 

he tried to forget, tried to move on with his life. he invited his friends over more often just to drown out her voice, drown out the thought of her. he turned his music up louder, and stayed out later. anything to keep him out of that building was good enough for him, but even when he was nowhere near her, the familiar voice rang through his ears, and infiltrated his head. he was going insane, in the way that incapacitated him from his everyday life. no matter how much he tried to distract himself—she was always there, even when she wasn’t. 

he was hopeless. he had to turn to the last idea he had—the landlord. he made his way to the landlord’s office, knocking on the door before being told to ‘come in’. 

“can i help you?,” the monotone voice echoed in the basically empty room. the man didn’t take his eyes off the computer sat on his desk, expressionless face anything but inviting. 

“yes. i– well, i don’t have a complaint per say…,” drew trailed off, trying to find a way to say this without sounding like a creep (it was impossible). “can you tell me who lives in apartment 7B? i’m in 7C, and–”

“let me stop you right there,” the man said abruptly. “i can’t disclose any information about any tenants without their permission,” he explained it like he was reading off of a script, finally pulling his eyes from the computer to look at drew in a condescending way. 

“okay. i understand that, but what if… what if i said i was worried about their well-being? like—what if i was seriously concerned that she was in danger?,” he didn’t think she was in danger—if he didn’t find out who this girl was, his mental state was the only thing in actual danger. he was grasping at straws at this point; his tone was desperate, and pleading. 

“it doesn’t matte– wait… did you say apartment 7B?,” he almost laughed as the words left his mouth. 

“yeah,” drew answered bluntly, getting frustrated with the man’s attitude. 

“buddy, that apartment’s been vacant for years. whatever you’re hearing—it’s all in your head,” he answered him like he didn’t have a care in the world. 

“what—what do you mean it’s vacant? there is definitely someone in there–,”

“listen, i have work to do. go tell your stories to someone else, kid,” he shrugged drew off like an annoying gnat, turning back to his computer. 

drew walked out of the office, aggravated, and totally defeated. he didn’t know what else to do. she wouldn’t answer back, wouldn’t open the door, and she never left. it was impossible to get to her unless he broke the door down, which honestly seemed like a tempting option right now. he muddled his way back up to his apartment, racking his brain—maybe he should just move? that idea was looking pretty tempting, too, but he knew no matter how far away he was, he would never get the sound of her voice out of his head. he had never known how it felt to be addicted to anything until her, and—no matter how much he wanted to—he couldn’t just move on. 

he sat in bed, facing toward the wall, staring at it like it had betrayed him—no one living there? it was impossible. he watched the wall like it would reveal the answers. the afternoon quickly turned to night, and he was hit with the reality that he hadn’t heard the girl. he checked the time—11:18pm. the silence was suffocating. he could hear himself breathe, hear himself think, and the hum of his refrigerator was agitating. in his semi-delirious state, he made a decision tomorrow-him would not be happy following through with. he blamed his lack of sanity (and sleep) on the crazy idea, but even the slightly-rested version of himself was contemplating it earlier that day. 

drew called off sick from work the following day. he knew how insane this was, but he was desperate. he waited until the building was quietest—around noon—before grabbing a lock pick kit he had bought when he first moved in just in case he got locked out of his apartment. ‘7B’ stared him in the face once more. he took a deep breath before pushing the lock pick into the keyhole. after a few seconds he heard a click from the other side of the door. he pressed the door open slightly, testing the waters before jumping in. screw it—he was jumping. he slipped into the room, gently closing the door behind him. it was dark—too dark—he pulled his phone out, flicking on his flashlight.

he took in his surroundings. everything was covered in a fine layer of dust, but it wasn’t untouched. this apartment didn’t have a window like his did; it looked sealed off from the world in a way, but it had the same setup as his studio. it was eerily quiet. he had grown to hate the quiet—it drove him even crazier than the voice that usually came from this side of the wall. he moved about the place until he came to the bed. a tousled blanket, a small cassette player, and a notebook sat atop the unweathered mattress. there was a single tape in the player, begging to be heard. his breath was caught in his throat as his shaky hand reached out to press play. 

it was her. soft, certain, poetic, distinctive.

“the boy in 7C plays music when he can’t sleep. sometimes i pretend it’s for me. sometimes, i believe it.”

the grocery list rang through his ears, a list of chores, several minutes of monologue with realistic pauses that made it seem like she was reacting to the world around her—like she was getting distracted while talking—but he could hear her breaths, waiting. 

“drew comes home every monday through thursday at 4:00pm, and every friday at 2:00pm—must have a corporate job. never goes grocery shopping on a specific day, but i like that. last night he had a few friends over, two other distinct male voices—enzo and matthew. they’re funny. they make him laugh.”

his jaw was slack, unable to think, unable to speak, unable to comprehend what was going on. while the tape continues to play—looping back through once it ended—he gently opens the worn notebook. the faded brown leather cover was soft beneath his rough fingers. 

His name is Drew. I heard his friends say it last night. 

Drew fell asleep at 12:52am.

He knocked on the wall today. It caught me by surprise.

Drew slipped a note under my door. I didn’t know how to answer it.

Hhe started knocking on my door. He does it everyday coming home from work.

I wanted to answer today, but I wasn’t ready.

pages upon pages of him; what he did, when he left, when he slept, who he had over, random things she must have seen by watching him through her peephole. there were drawings of him scattered across some of the pages, and random groups of lyrics or poems scratched throughout. he shuffled through the sheets like they were calling to him, like he wouldn’t be able to put down the book even if he wanted. the last page had only one entry on it, right in the middle of the page. 

I was supposed to be watching him, but he’s watching me too.

drew’s breath hitched. his head snapped up, and looked around as if she would appear. where was she? who was she? his mind was moving at a million miles an hour trying to understand what he was seeing—what all of it meant. he looked around the apartment like it would have the answers. it was the only thing that could have the answers. he rummaged through the drawer of the dusty nightstand, finding another single cassette tape amongst pages that seemed to be ripped from the notebook he just read. 

he pulled it out, quickly replacing the previous tape in the cassette player with it. there was a long moment of silence, he thought it might have been empty, but he let it play—hopeful for something… anything. he brought his nail to his mouth, biting down as a sort of anxious reaction. he didn’t know why he was anxious, he just knew his breath felt 2,000 pounds heavier right now, and every inhale-exhale was draining him. the soft sound of her clearing her throat played through the machine, drew physically moved closer to it—he couldn’t risk missing anything. her voice was so soft, so graceful. he closed his eyes to listen.

“hi drew. i knew you would find this. you were always an inquisitive person. you deserved answers i didn’t have—answers i still don’t have. i wish there was a way to explain this, but there isn’t. i liked to think you thought about me the same way i thought about you. but, when i found out you did—i realized there would be no way to explain myself. you might be really confused right now. you should be. you might be wondering: is she even real? there’s no easy answer. there never is. it felt real to me, but you got too close. we were doomed from the beginning. you’re inquisitive, and everyone knows curiosity kills. i was just supposed to be watching you, but you were watching me too. i do have one answer for you though—you’ve earned it, drew—my name is maeve.”

the tape clicks off, and drew’s left alone. the silent darkness surrounding him, the air thick with desire. desire of what? he isn’t quite sure.

an: if you read all the way thru this—first of all, thank you :) && second, please please please comment your thoughts about this. this was a legit assignment i turned in for a grade && i really wanna know how it’s perceived.ᐟ

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[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

Chapter two: low expectations.

taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne

A/N: sorry for the late update, but imma catch you guys up 🫡

previous chapter | next chapter

Over the next few days you manage to get your pre-reading all done and dusted.

You can’t help but already feel exhausted by the amount of things that you have to juggle at university.

Just as soon as you were completed with one task, you groaned at the thought of your long list of remaining errands. Bills, assignments, grocery shopping and your shifts at the cafe were all piled on top of you constantly, not to mention your attempt to attend your lectures and classes, double checking that they were the right ones.

But the most stressful by far was trying to avoid your mother’s calls, which occurs at least twice a day. As of recently, you had thought that you were safe, coming up with excuses left, right and center.

At least that was before you had seen a missed call from your dad this morning.

That’s how you know that you’re really in the shits.

You’re gonna have to come up with something. And in quick timing.

But for now, you’re going to have to sideline your personal dilemmas.

With your new job at the cafe, you have no choice but to remain consistent with your routine, that is of course, if you want your new job to last.

After weeks of rejection or rather, the lack of replies, you had managed to secure a job at your roommate’s favorite cafe spot.

And by secure you mean that you had sort of lied about having experience in a cafe previously.

You didn’t entirely lie…just exaggerated the truth a little bit.

This was one of the only jobs that had replied to you out of a whole stockpile and you weren’t going to let it go to waste. Not under any circumstances.

You did have the experience of watching and observing what your classmate did at her family owned cafe whilst you were on the till for a few minutes.

But nonetheless, what’s so hard about making coffee? Anyone can do this shit. It’s okay if you’re learning on the job, doesn’t everyone? Currently, you succeed in trying to rotate between keeping track of orders and making drinks as well as trying not to get in MJ’s way too much.

But you were handling it to the best of your abilities. Even if that did mean messing up a few of your customers' orders every once in a while. MJ had said nothing about it so far which means that you're in the green light.

For now.

“You really should be getting some sleep, don’t let your first year knock you out before midterms.” She acknowledges, elbowing you slightly.

“I kno–” you barely finish your sentence, another yawn coming out of nowhere.

“See?” She hums, finishing off an order for the previous customer. “You need some beauty sleep.”

She’s referring to your bruised under eye bags that have started to appear. Ultimately, the results of you staying up till midnight yesterday to finish off an assignment. You had only managed to get a few hours of sleep before waking up in time for your 6am shift.

“I also need money, but we can’t have it all can we MJ?” you note, keeping your tone light before you move on to serve another customer.

You’ve only been on shift for a couple of hours but you think you’re coping well so far. MJ forewarned you about the morning lecture rush hour. You guessed that it was soon by glancing at the old clock hung up on the wall, indicating that it was just after 8:30 am. Students continued to spill in and out of the cafe, the bell above the front door continuously ringing in your ears.

A small line had begun to queue up and you swiftly moved through them with ease. As your next customer came up to the counter, your face lit up at the sight of a familiar face.

“Oh hey stranger–” you begin, recognising the same grueling face that you had seen last week bore into you. But you barely get a chance to finish your sentences before he cuts you off sharply.

“Coffee. Black.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you tap his order into the machine, immediately sensing his disgruntled aura. By the expression on his face, you can tell that he doesn’t seem up for teasing.

He seems…frustrated? Or maybe even upset?

“Name?”

“Miguel.”

You can’t tell whether he’s cranky because it’s 8am in the morning or rather that you failed to notice this the last time you saw him. Either way, it makes you a little dazed. Perhaps he wasn’t a morning person. You understood that because you were the complete same. Taking his name, you brush him off instead hoping that your coffee will cheer him up.

You inform him of the price and he swipes his card without a second glance. He leaves to take a seat in one of the corners of the cafe which just so happens to be the only part of the cafe that wasn’t so overwhelmed with customers.

It’s not long before you head over there yourself with his order.

“Here’s your black coffee.” you say, setting it down in front of him. Hastily, you’re about to run off to prepare your next order before his words stop you.

“I ordered a black coffee. Not a latte.”

You turn around abruptly, realizing your full mistake. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”

“Are you new here or just incapable of making a simple cup of black coffee?” Miguel interrupts, his tone laced with vexation.

“Who do you think you’re–”

Your outrage comes to a halt by the sound of your name being called by MJ. You glance over your shoulder and notice her point towards an ever growing queue of customers. Shit, you don’t have time to cuss him out.

Taking a deep breath, you make the decision to be the bigger person, after all it’s like what your manager Steve said…

‘ The customer is always right.’

“I’ll bring it over for you, m’sorry.” you apologize again, rubbing at your forehead, suddenly overwhelmed with the pressure. With sweat beading at your brows, you look over to see a small queue beginning in front of the till again.

MJ throws you a hurried glance, a look which you know means ‘hurry the fuck up and make these orders.’

You end up taking longer than five minutes to return back to him, run ragged with the new orders of coffees, teas, lattes, macchiatos and hot chocolates that continue to pile up.

“Here you go, sorry about that.” You place his new and correct drink in front of him.

“No worries.”

You’re almost taken aback by his response. First he snaps at you and now he’s telling you not to worry about it? God, he was so confusing.

“Enjoy.”

You think that you hear a mutter of ‘thanks’ leave his mouth but you don’t turn back to hear his words clearly. Yet… you can’t exactly keep away.

For some reason your brain keeps lingering towards a burning question which has rattled your mind all through the past week. Giving in to your temptations, you end up turning around and prompt Miguel with another question.

“How did you know ‘Pride and Prejudice’ was set in the 19th century?”

“Huh?” He glances up from his phone, his thumb paused in his mindless scrolling.

“Last time, when I saw you in the library. You knew it was set in the 19th century.”

“I didn’t.'' Miguel huffs, and your eyes can help but notice the size of his biceps. You estimate that they’re bigger than your fucking hands. “It was an estimated guess.”

“Really? You don’t seem too-”

“Listen.” Miguel quips, his sharp tone suddenly returning, causing your voice to trail off midway through your sentence. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he speaks. “I’m going to try and say this in the nicest way possible, but I’m really not in the mood for some crap about your literature degree, okay? I really couldn’t care less.”

Ouch.

Your expression drops and you’re immediately aware of the distance between the two of you.

He’s right. You barely know him. He’s just a guy who just so happened to be there at one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. “Right, sorry.”

You’re about to leave his table before he stops you…again.

“Y’know I ought to tell your manager that you messed up my order.” Miguel begins, continuing to scroll on his phone, not bothering to even look up at you. “This is a very reputable cafe and if you start slacking on the job then…”

“Then what?” You question. “Are you trying to threaten me with a bad review?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say threaten is the right word but…now that you say that perhaps I should write one.”

Your stomach drops at his words. “Oh, you fucking wouldn’t.”

He smirks, still peering down at his phone. “Maybe I would.”

“Bet.”

“Don’t start betting on things that you’ll end up regretting, nena.”

Your brow raises at his phrase which you don’t entirely understand but you really don’t have time to question it. Your patience is running out as well as your time to get back on track with the orders.

As you walk away from his table, his words seem to settle into your skin.

He wouldn’t? Would he? No… he hasn’t got the balls to. What kind of person has that amount of free time on their hands to write a bad review? At least he had gotten his coffee in the end, you were in your right mind not to spill it all over him on purpose.

“He’s a dick, he’s a dick, he’s a total dick.” You mutter under your breath, making your way back to your station. But you should’ve guessed that from your conversation with him in the library, recalling his mocking tone of your embarrassment.

You should’ve kept your expectations low if you ever thought that you were going to be friends with him.

“What did you say?” MJ queries, hearing your mumbles as you join her.

You nod towards Miguel, still sitting in the far corner scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

“He’s an evil, brooding…” You fail to think of an appropriate ending.

“Dick?” MJ ends.

“Correct.” you say. You promise to yourself that from this moment onwards you are refraining from looking over at that corner.

You find that time passes quickly during your shift and once the rush hour of students finally dies down, you and MJ get the chance to finally take a break.

“Fucking hell, I never want to do that again.” She murmurs wiping down the surfaces near the coffee machines for any spilt substances.

“Ditto that.” you murmur, grabbing a cloth to wipe down some empty tables.

Learning that MJ was a performing arts student made you more than happy to get along well with her. She was in her second year, yet in a sea of sickening STEM students here you had real proof that you weren’t the only humanities student.

Take that Miguel.

/

Currently eating dinner alone in your apartment, you reminisce on your day in silence, your roommate out at her weekly computer coding club. You think that it was safe to say that it was a good day today, despite all the stresses at work.

Speaking of work, you recall the conversation from this morning.

You don’t want to give this Miguel guy too much credit but you’d be lying if you said that his threat earlier didn’t scare the shit out of you for the remainder of your day.

Even MJ had to ask if you were alright when it got to the end of your shift and you had brushed it off, blaming it on your exhaustion.

He was totally bluffing….right? I mean, he doesn’t even know you.

You bite down on your metallic fork, anxiety rapidly filling you within.

No, you can’t help it. You have to check.

Chewing on your fingernails, you type in the name of the cafe that you work out and head over to the reviews section on Google.

Scrolling down to find the latest reviews, your stomach practically drops at one comment, under the simple username of: @miguelohara20.

‘New barista lacked the ability to do her job. Couldn’t pay attention to even get my order right. Talks way too much unprovoked, to the point where you might as well save some money and make the damn coffee yourself.’

The fucking nerve of this guy causes so much anger within you that your fork practically falls from your other hand as you immediately go to text MJ. You send her a screenshot before typing with fury.

- ‘Did you see this? This was that guy that I was complaining about earlier: the rude, evil, brooding STEM one.’

Sent: 7:34pm

It’s not long before you receive a reply from MJ and it’s one that makes your stomach drop.

- ‘Yeah I did :/ Steve texted me about it actually.

Received: 7:36pm

MJ sends through another text, a few seconds later.

- ‘He wants a meeting with you on ‘customer etiquette’ !!

Received 7:36pm

Dropping your phone on the table, you let out a groan, holding your head in your hands. Now, this day went from ‘good’ to being the second worst day of your life, now with your job on the line.

Yeah…you think you fucking hate Miguel now.

reblogs are much appreciated!

lmk if you would like to join the taglist!

[serenasoutherlyns]

let go when you give it - chapter one

Serena and Abbie fail to have a one-night stand. (A (smuttier) re-telling of from the dark with you above me )

I've wanted to revisit this fic for a little while and have finally had inspiration for it. I'm looking forward to writing this. This story will be more explicit than the original.

ao3. 1.5k words.

Abbie was surprised at how mild her hangover was, at least for now. Maybe it would catch up to her in a few hours. She would do her absolute best to fend it off, she had things she wanted to do today. Go to the farmers market, and then the grocery store for what she couldn’t find. She wanted to go running at the reservoir. The weather was gorgeous, even this early, she had seen the sunrise lying in bed next to Serena, working up the energy to rise. She wasn’t going to stay for breakfast. That wasn’t her style, yes, but Serena was likely to be an absolute mess based on the vodka sodas she was downing the night before. So, she was drinking a glass of water in the kitchen and taking an Advil from her purse quickly before leaving. She heard a door click open and footsteps. Damn. So much for slipping out quietly. The footsteps went into the bathroom and she heard a faint rummaging. She readied herself for what she would make a quick conversation.

The person who emerged from the hallway was not, in fact, Serena. Abbie was surprised to see Alex Cabot, dressed in a perfectly buttoned satin pajama set, with a wrinkled forehead, rubbing her temples. Though they had seen each other briefly last night, she and Serena had left Penelope’s before Alex did, and she had not heard someone else come in. Plenty of ADA’s lived with roommates, but Abbie knew neither of them needed to. Alex jumped.

“Why are you in my kitchen?” Alex asked after they acknowledged one another. Couldn’t she guess? Though, Abbie realized, she should give the obviously-ill woman some slack. She cleared her throat.

“Serena, uh, let me stay over. I didn’t know she had roommates.” Alex was clearly too tired to moderate her reactions, because the shock registered on her face, like the thought that Abbie had sex with Serena was unthinkable. Oh please. It wasn’t like she made a great effort to conceal her sexuality, she just didn’t explicitly say it. Alex was subtle, but out: she kept small enamel rainbow flag on her desk, and Abbie had heard her discussing attending an LGBT event with the Bar association. Serena was similar. At any rate, Abbie thought, surely Alex would’ve remembered seeing her at Penelope’s-- which should leave no ambiguity. Manhattan’s premier lesbian bar really didn’t attract straight clientele. Even if it did, was Alex’s gaydar that bad?

Alex laughed in her face. Abbie almost couldn’t believe how impolite she was being. Surely her upper-class upbringing would’ve included etiquette training. Alex tried to hide her smile, which only made it worse.

“Sorry,” she said. “I just wouldn’t think Penelope’s would be your scene.” Abbie wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“Yeah, well,” she said, and gestured with her free hand, “I’m here, so.” Abbie resisted elaborating. She couldn’t get out of that apartment fast enough. Alex said something about kissing Serena goodbye, and the thought made her shudder.

“Not really my style,” she said, placing her glass in the sink and raising her keys in the air. “See you, Alex.” ---

Sunday dinner found her at Elle and Lisa’s more often than it didn’t. She’d checked off everything on the list: running, followed by the farmer’s market, then the grocery store, and after that she had gotten a pain au chocolat and a latte and prepared a few things for the work week. She called her mother and got an earful of Where is my son-in-law Abbie? Come on, both your younger sisters are married, what are you waiting for? Are there no eligible bachelors in New York City? Why are you still living there anyway, Dallas is cheaper and warmer and your whole family is there. And you could help Dad campaign. I mean, your father and I aren’t getting any younger, Abigail! And what about my grandchildren?.

She hung up as fast as she could after the Are you still going to church? question, and, by then, the sun was going down. September always brought Abbie a touch of sadness, the crisp that the air was beginning to hold made her melancholy. Maybe it was nostalgia, or the way people began preparing to hibernate for the cold that she still hadn’t quite completely adapted to. The leaves were starting to change, though, she noticed on her walk to her friends’ place, and that was nice.

“So, you hooked up with a coworker?” said Elle, mildly scandalized. “That’s not very much like you!” Lisa poured herself a second glass of white wine and topped off Abbie’s. Elle was right.

“I know,” said Abbie, pondering her reasons. “I like her,” she said, “we don’t work in the same bureau, so I don’t actually see her all that much at work.”

“I see,” said Lisa. “That’s nice then! Do you think there’ll be a repeat?” She said.

“Probably not,” said Abbie. “Never say never, I guess. But, I’m not looking for attachment.” Elle rolled her eyes. Abbie gave her an annoyed look. “Besides, you know how much I work, I don’t have time and neither does she.” Lisa nodded, acknowledging the truth. Elle pulled the roasted asparagus and crispy tofu out of the oven.

---

Abbie saw Alex and Serena across the street from the office, ducking their heads under the awning of a food truck, escaping the not-light rain for a moment. None of them were in the same bureau, so Abbie guessed she shouldn’t be surprised that she didn’t know they lived together. Working with Alex had made her notice just how close they were. Look, Alex, I hope I can count on your discretion. It hadn’t been Abbie at her most eloquent. She shouldn’t have had to clarify, and honestly, she knew Alex probably wouldn’t spread rumors about her. It really was more a way to get the conversation about anything other than work to stop.

Serena tilted her head up, laughing. Alex covered her mouth with her hand. Abbie wondered what they were talking about. She didn’t have a long time to think, though, because Jack joined her on the steps, a newspaper atop his head.

“How was your weekend, Abbie?” Said Jack, slightly out of breath. He opened the door for her and held it. Abbie shook off the droplets that had made it on to her suit and Jack rolled up the newspaper.

“It was good,” said Abbie. “Yours?”

“You seem to be in high spirits,” said Jack. “Get up to anything fun?”

“I guess so,” said Abbie, “yeah, I had a good weekend.” Jack didn’t pry anymore.

---

Abbie got home late, but not too late, not uncharacteristically late. She was very glad not to live with roommates. She left that life behind after law school, even though it was hard on her first salary. She valued solitude over cable, for example. She listened to a Liz Phair CD while she cooked, letting the sounds of the two mix. After she ate, she read for a while, then finished up some work she brought home. Her sister called, apparently her twin niece and nephew were starting second grade the next day. She folded some laundry with the news playing, did the dishes, and went to sleep.

Her mind wandered. She had been thinking of Serena off and on. She hadn’t had sex in a while before that Friday. As a rule, the longer she went without, the less she wanted it, and Abbie knew that the opposite was true. She was mildly regretting having not left her phone number. Not that Serena couldn’t contact her-- she knew where her office was, after all-- but leaving her phone number (or even saying goodbye) may have gotten her a repeat. Yes, she had told Lisa and Elle she wouldn’t, but the more she mulled it over, the less sure she was about that.

She let her hands follow her mind, breathing in the cool breeze coming in through the cracked window. She was starting to feel the autumn in it. When she touched her cunt, gently, her two fingers were cold amid the soft wetness. She shifted, sleepy, as she circled her clit. Her eyes closed, and she pictured Serena. First, her at Penelope’s. Serena was a slightly awkward but enthusiastic dancer, she had the gangliness of a significantly taller woman. Abbie found it endearing. Her lack of rhythm hadn’t stopped her body from arousing Abbie, and she had been glad to follow her into the cab back to her apartment.

Then, an image of Serena on her back underneath her. Abbie could almost hear her moan. She felt herself getting close as she pictured Serena coming, the particular way her pink mouth wrapped around her gasps.

Finally, she found herself imagining Serena in the cocktail dress she had worn to the office Christmas party last year, Serena’s first. It was dark green, velvet, and long; and she remembered the way it moved on her. She was just remembering it now. It was pleasant. She could stand to see something like it again. Abbie sighed as she came, then yawned.

[dizzyaddy]

drowning - naruto x oc part 2

(i do not own any naruto characters, only my original character)

“kyō, are you home?” i heard sen’s soft voice ring out from the back bedroom. after leaving the shop i had ungracefully rushed home, my feet often tripping over each other as i pushed through the dirt streets. people had just started to litter the street and bustle the village by the time i finally reached my home.

our clans compound was a ghost town, its only true ability being haunting my elder sister to her core. she didn’t speak much of what life was like before the attack, but when she did, i found myself dropping everything to cling onto what she had to say. life sounded so colorful, so joyful, so full of life. now it was just her and i, treading through a colorless world.

after the attack, she had pleaded with the elders into letting us move into our own townhouse. they heeded her request and granted us a townhouse right by the river than ran through the village. luckily, it had everything we needed to make life more accessible for her. though, it didn’t help that her condition continued to deteriorate, an inevitable facet i refuse to acknowledge.

at first i would go to school, go grocery shopping, and clean the house of any mess. she would help me with my baths and do my hair in the mornings, taking on a motherly role herself. any errand or task that needed work, i was always taking it on without any complaints. sen would cook, take care of her own personal needs, and tend to the garden in the backyard which held our supply of select vegetables and fruits.

now i find myself taking over the garden, cooking all of our meals, and helping her with her baths. she taught me long ago how to braid and style her hair just how she likes, something that i’ve pridefully mastered. it’s painful watching her slowly slip away, slowly losing herself, losing that gleam that used to shine so bright in her eyes.

the worst is when i have to prepare to leave on a mission. the one day i have to prepare is always dedicated to cooking many meals and storing them so she could easily access them, and making sure the garden would be okay while i was gone. long ago i moved all entertainment and recreational items we owned such as games and puzzles so she could access them by her bedside, in case she were ever bored while i was gone.

it’s not that i mind tending to her needs, for which i would do it all in half a heartbeat. the worst part is being separated from her, not knowing if she is okay or not. i’ve never known turmoil how she has, but i assume this is what it’s like.

“yes onee, sorry it took so long,” i said before walking through the threshold of her room. i greeted her with a kiss on the cheek once i was within range and checked if she was comfortable.

“how long have you been up, sen?” i asked while moving a stray piece of hair from her frail face. she grabbed my hand before i could retract it and examined the callouses and small cuts that littered its entirety.

“not too long, you came just in time,” she hummed, still distracted by my hands. hers felt cold in comparison, her dainty fingers holding onto mine as if she let go, she would fade away. “my, your hands are huge, kyō! i remember when your whole hand could fit around my finger,” she said wistfully, a longing look evident in her amber eyes.

“keep working like this and yours will be rougher than your husbands, that is if you find one,” she joked before i jolted my hand away.

“hai, sen! keep talking like that and i’ll let you starve,” i said in retort. she clicked her tongue and grinned in response, moving her eyebrows in a suggestive manner the best she could.

“i have your medicine, do you need more water?” i asked while sliding the tablets into her open palm. i noticed how her grin fell, leaving a dissatisfied expression on her face. she looked at them for a few moments before regaining eye contact with me and shaking her head.

“well i have to shower, i’m sure i smell from all my training. do you need me to get you anything? i can make us breakfast when i’m done!” i offered, desperately wanting to see her smile return. she stared at me longingly before a grin crept up, engulfing her features in the best possible way.

“i’d like that, thank you,” she breathed before taking my hand in hers again. “you know, kyō, you’re becoming a fine young woman. you remind me so much of mom, in spirit and soul. i love you, never forget that,” she said before leaning her head back and swallowing the dry tablets. i ushered her some water with my free hand before responding.

“your words mean the world to me, onee. i love you too, and i’ll do any and everything in my power to keep you safe and healthy and happy as can be,” i said with a bittersweet smile, wanting moments like this to last forever. she squeezed my hand before dropping her gaze and picking up a book of word puzzles that preoccupied her bedside table.

“now go shower, baka, you stink,” she muttered before i stuck my tongue out at her, causing her to stick hers back. i jokingly rolled my eyes and gave her a wave of my hand before promptly walking away. and with that, i exited her room and headed straight for the shower that adorned mine. i took off my pouches and the numerous bandages that were clad to various parts of my body. after i was sure i had stripped of everything on me, i started up the shower and jumped right in.

the steam instantly clouded my senses as i felt the hot water hit my skin in all the right places. if i could, i would live in this shower forever. it felt as if the water melted away the world outside, leaving me with nothing but this heightened experience of washing away my days worry.

my mind wandered to the boy i met earlier, and i marveled over how such a simple experience could bring such joy to my day. i pondered over his mannerisms before i was reminded of what the man at the herb shop had recited to me earlier.

deep down i knew it was inevitable, that her time was readily approaching and there wasn’t much i could do about it. i made a mental note to discuss it with her over breakfast, as much as i dreaded it. i quickly washed my hair and body before sitting down and letting the hot water rush over me, covering me in a blanket of solace.

i didn’t know i was crying until a sob erupted from my throat, leaving me to cover my mouth while these raging emotions continued to pour out of me. i curled up even tighter, wishing i could hold onto sen while i came to terms with these feelings. as much as i wanted to, i knew it would break her to see me like this. i had to be strong for her, just as she has been through all these years. my body trembled as my sobs wavered through me, coming and going in waves.

after awhile it seemed like if i didn’t make myself stop, then i simply wouldn’t stop on my own. i straightened out my posture and groomed my hair, trying to calm myself down. i closed my eyes and focused on my ragged breathing, trying my best to slow it down. once i regained control, i turned the shower ice cold and let it flow over me. my breathing was still sharp, but i knew i had calmed down. i thoroughly rinsed my face before promptly getting out the shower.

i didn’t allow myself to dwell on my reflection, instead i wallowed on my bed for a good few minutes, staring at a blank section of my wall. it’s as if i was thinking of everything yet nothing all at once. my thoughts came and went, but i couldn’t allow myself to truly focus on anything. i forced myself to get up and get dressed in my casual attire, which consisted of a long pleated skirt and a low cut long sleeved shirt. my towel still occupied my hair as i had wrapped it securely so it could dry. i took a few deep breaths to compose myself before making my way out of my room.

“hai, i should have known,” i heard sen’s agitated voice as i turned the corner, her eyebrows furrowed as she bit the end of her pencil trying to figure a puzzle out.

“i’m starving sen, what should we eat?” i asked excitedly, my mind instantly fixating on all the possibilities our kitchen held. she placidly held her hand under her chin, contemplating over the choices we held.

“i’ve been craving udon, if you’re up to it,” she said smiling at me, knowing that’s my favorite dish.

“you know me so well,” i said, touching her nose gently with the tip of my finger. “udon it is! i’m going to grab some vegetables from the back, i’ll be right back!” i said before rushing out her room and weaving my way toward our garden.

[lillalis]

Rhythmic Waves update!

I've just posted chapter 5 of my longfic! It would make my day if you could check it out and leave kudos, comments etc on it, so I can improve my writing. <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61687591/chapters/168278164

Chapter under the cut (divider by enchanthings)!

A few days have passed since Leonore’s arrival at Paeonia farm, which was already looking much more refurbished than before. The seeds she bought from the previous day lying underneath the ground, growing and yearning to reach the light of the sun. Much to her dismay, she had to deal with the nasty crows very early on, thankfully she didn’t have to buy too many new ones - money wasn’t something she had a mountain of.

Within the few days, she got to know the basics of farming, but one thing was missing: The paths.

It was getting really annoying to walk onto the arid ground, the small pebbles getting into every small orifice of the shoes.

The consequences of living on the land -  wonderful.

Leonore had saved some money for possible upgrades around the house, her instinct of scheduling every little task and having an exact plan never leaving her. It did take a while until she finally took her steps in the direction of the carpenter’s shop.

This time, Leonore is on her way to give her Grandpa’s farm another small glow-up and needed some help for it.

Why did the shop had to be so up high?!

It didn’t take too long to arrive there, the familiar smell of wood hitting her nose within a second.

“Ah, hello Leonore! Good to see you!”, Robin gleamed from across the counter. “How can I help you?”

“Hello Robin, I wanted to purchase blueprints for upcoming projects. Do you happen to have something for pathways?”

“Of course, I’m the right person for this after all! Let me take a look what I got.”

The ginger woman looked around her commode and counter, searching for possible blueprints the farmer could use for her upcoming challenge. “How have the first few days as a farmer been? Definitely something more different than your previous job?”, Robin questioned her, the rustling of the papers causing her to speak slightly louder. 

Leonore sighed. “Different describes it very well. Another fitting word to describe it would be … exhausting.”

Grandpa must’ve been pretty strong after all those years of hard work … would be amusing to become more fit after some time too from sheer farmwork alone.

Robin responded to her answer with a laugh. 

“You can say that out loud! It’s absolutely not an easy job, that’s why I pay a lot of respects to you for taking it on. I’d imagine most people in your age wouldn’t really tackle that challenge.”

She has a good point - the majority of the current generation prefers to live in the urban area, where the most necessary things are all around the corner: grocery stores, shopping centers, pharmacies … people in rural areas would have to drive long distances to get to one small grocery store. Many young people seem to avoid this; why moving when everything’s so close, after all.

Ah, they might be spoiled a bit. I sound like a grandma, I’m about to turn 33 for Yoba’s sake!

“No, they wouldn’t. I can count a few cases where some have tried it and gave up within a day”, Leonore replied.

Robin acknowledged her answer with a simple “hm” while getting all the blueprints she had in mind. It didn’t take long until she put a huge pile of blueprints on the counter, some wood dust flying around and surrounding the two of them.

“So, here are some blueprints for pathways and floors! There should be something for you here.”

The farmer took the blueprints and took a closer look at them - each blueprint being unique and pretty in its own very way.  After some inspection, she chose three blueprints.

“Those are perfect. How much are those three in total?”

“300 gold in total.”

An acceptable price; she saved some money for other plans, and 300 gold was just enough to pay for all three.

“Good, I’ll take them.”

Robin prepared the blue-prints for her, suddenly she went further back from the counter and came back with a small gift.

“Your help from last time was life-saving. My axe has been a trusty partner for my work for ages. I could’ve gotten a new one, sure, but there are many beautiful memories on this one”, Robin admitted with a gentle smile. “ So I’ve prepared you a little thank-you gift! I hope you’ll like it.” Leonore rarely got gifts for such small gestures; usually only for special occasions and other important events.

“Oh, that wasn’t necessary. I simply gave you something you’ve missed, a simple task really. Especially because I have nothing to give back …”

Robin seemed surprised by her answer, irritated even - which Leonore noticed immediately. Did I say something wrong? Dammit, should’ve kept my mouth shut and-

“But you do, silly! Your presence is always an enjoyable gift. You’re always welcome here!”

Hours have passed since she started with her project, the sound of stone slabs hitting the ground being loud and clear. Her arms started to feel like jelly, the constant heavy weight of the stones being a toll on her body.

It’s exhausting and felt  like an eternity; and yet it felt good, almost liberating.

She completely forgot what time it was again; was it noon or almost evening?

It didn’t matter too much now, she wouldn’t go anywhere anyway.

The last stone slab laid on the ground steady, finally completing the pathway and giving the farm at least a little bit of structure.

And with that, she decided to return to the cottage. The idea of a nice warm shower and comfortable clothes was way too enticing to not do.

Self-care is something she let slide back during her Joja phase; she started to eat more junk food and salty foods, which didn’t do her any good. In such village like Pelican Town, she doesn’t have any access to the junk foods she often ate.

Probably for the best.

Although she saw some junk foods at Pierre’s shop, she decided to cook more meals with the fresh crops of hers - it would be disrespectful not to eat your own homegrown crops.

If they grew like they’re supposed to, of course.

The tall woman decided to let the day pass, laying on the bed with one of her scientific journals in her hand - one of her few journals she took with her. Catching up to one of her fascinations was an important task. After all, it’s also part of her self-care she wanted to focus more about.

But there were other books waiting to be picked up again, sitting patiently under the bed - romance novels.

Leonore came to Pelican Town with a skeptical view towards love, thanks to her previous relationship; the one that caused her to not believe in love again and preferably staying single for the rest of her life. While this decision was not an easy one and everyone told her about the consequences of her decision, she didn’t care. 

A promise to hold until she was no more.

Never fall in love again.

Everything to not be hurt again - can’t get disappointed or get your heart ripped out, if there’s no one, right?

New chapter of life means a new beginning; avoiding the mistakes done in the past.

It’s all just for the best.

But deep down, she knew she couldn’t keep her distance forever; she had a great weakness for anything romantic, no matter how cheesy.

A simple picnic, walkings in the evening, candlelight dinners … all those scenarios made her heart swoon; it made her feel acquainted and whole, it felt just right.

She didn’t have the pleasure to indulge in such scenarios much in her previous relationship, however. Her ex-partner never valued such gestures as necessary, staying to the most typical things like kissing and holding hands. Intimate moments were a rarity.

And yet the desire to lose herself in the stories full of affairs, ballads and bodice rippers was faint but still there, never fully extinguished.

Time will tell whether the burning desire to pick up such books again will one day flare up again.

But for now, she will stick with science and nature; much more intriguing than love, right? Right?

In the silence of the night, a rumble broke the soft quietness of the dark. Everyone was deep asleep, but the result of the earthquake was clear the next day. The huge boulder that used to block the way to the mines was gone, an entrance now visible to the public. Leonore planned to do some fishing to get more gold into her account and caught the change just randomly. A cave? So this was hidden behind the boulder?

This time, she didn’t mind her sudden change of plans, she was way too intrigued by the whole development, so she listened to her curiosity for the very first time in Pelican Town - she went in, not knowing what might be hidden underneath the cold walls of the mountains.

The cave was as expected from a usual cave: dim, cold, and a rather unpleasant moisture lingered in the air - until her eyes landed on unusual items.

A mine cart and a lift? Wasn’t this an ordinary cave?

She noticed an older man standing in front of a smaller hole, just big enough for a person to go down. He stood there, seemingly concerned about something, while his gaze lingered at the opening on the ground.

“Hm …”

Leonore took some steps to join the man, clearly curious about his intentions. “May I ask why you’re at this place? You seem to be lost in thoughts.”

The older man turned his gaze to her, seemingly interested in Leonore’s curiosity.

“ … I was just peering down this old mine shaft. It’s been abandoned for decades.” So this place used to be a mine after all.

Leonore stood there, her eyes never leaving the big gape in front of her; a shiver running down her spine. She couldn’t pinpoint why she was feeling this way.

Only that she didn’t like the thought of what might be underneath them.

The man continued his loud thinking, Leonore listening very closely to his words.

“Still, there’s probably good minerals down there. But a dark place, undisturbed for so long … I’m afraid, ore isn’t the only thing you’ll find …”

Ah.

This explains the feeling of dread while staring at the entrance.

Is this man implying, that monsters exist down there? No, they don’t exist at all, why should they do now ?

“Here, take this. You might need it.”

Her sporadic thinking was cut short by the man’s voice, his hand reaching to his hip, revealing a rusty sword. He gave the sword to her, a puzzled expression on her face, which she tried to hide behind a neutral facade.

“Oh, thank … you”.

“Name’s Marlon, by the way. I run the adventurer’s guild right outside”, the person finally introduces himself to the copper blond woman.

“Pleasure’s mine, the name’s Leonore”, hiding her confusion as good as she could. Marlon took a close look at her, his eye piercing right through her.

“I’ll keep my eye on you. Prove yourself and I might think about making you a member.”

After he left, Leonore could only respond with her “mhm”, getting his message clearly, but the confusion not being less than before.

At first, she seemed to contemplate about going down; after all, she never saw a monster in her life ever. “Should I really risk it? … I value my energy and sanity a bit more than that. Maybe another time with better preparation.”

His talk about the guild did catch her interest, but she’d check it another time. First she had to visit the ranch girl of Pelican Town, Marnie.

During the passing hours, the farmer met a few new people, all of them rather young. The first was Alex, the sporty guy of the village; his self-confident demeanor was reflected not only in his personality but also in his sporting talent. It made her think of the jockeys from her high school days who were very confident and wanted to show off. It didn't help that he was trying to impress her; his phrasing didn't help, and yet there was something about him that she couldn't really grasp. 

The next person she met was Haley; the beauty queen of the small village. It didn’t take long for her to insult Leonore’s appearance - or so it came off as one. After all, she just arrived and her clothes have to be freshened up yet. Leonore seemed irritated by Haley’s rather arrogant remarks. She could tell Haley was one of the younger adults in the village, however her act reminded her way too much of the gossipy, rude girls from high school - something she’d like to forget again.

Without thinking of the possible consequence of her action, Leonore countered with a line, that caused Haley to be enraged: “You should buy a new mirror, a brand-new invention. Maybe it gives you the reflection you need.”

She’d have to apologize for her comment later on, cringing now at the memory of what she’d said.

Maru was the next person she met and introduced herself to. A friendly woman, who was definitely a STEM girl - she came to that conclusion, when she spotted her notes next to her. After Leonore took a glimpse at them, she thoroughly asked Maru about her hobby and profession, much to Maru’s joy. She didn’t expect Leonore to be well versed in that topic at all and was very curious about her knowledge, so she invited her to visit her sometime.

Her first impression of Penny was of a woman, who was distanced but sweet. She seemed to prefer to be by herself. After all, the village life could tend to be more adventurous and turbulent. And yet there was a sadness lingering within her presence, yearning for something that could give her some peace and quiet. Leonore noticed the book she read, a romance novel with a good amount of drama in it.

“I’m familiar with the book you’re reading. It’s wonderful and gets very intriguing later on”, Leonore remarked, an astonished expression being noticeable on Penny’s face. She didn’t expect the new farmer to enjoy reading as much as she did, a pleasant surprise nonetheless. Both indulge in a long conversation, from book genres to Penny’s life; Leonore couldn't help but wonder what Penny must've gone through in her life.

The farmer almost forgot her initial plan after all the new impressions she got over the day, quickly walking towards the barn of the older rancher woman.

Leonore reflected a bit over the new people she met and thought about visiting the Stardrop Saloon the next day. If Abigail wasn't exaggerating, there might be more faces to be seen - it would make things much easier for her. She's never been to the Stardrop Saloon, but from the sounds of it, it's the center of coming together in this small town.

Leonore is unsure about going to this place, anxiety washing over her - the nasty feeling of it coating her soul.

It couldn't be that bad now, right? I'd have to go there sooner or later.

She wanted to drown out those ugly thoughts, her mind needed to be somewhere else; so she thought about all the people she talked to.

Looking back at the previous conversations, Leonore noticed the diverse people of the village:

Harvey the doctor, who seems socially awkward.

Evelyn, the grandma with poor eyesight but with an incredible flower knowledge and a heart of gold.

Elliott, the self-proclaimed writer, who looks like a straight-up love interest from a cliché romance novel and has a peculiar way of talking.

Willy, the fisherman who already gives off a familiar atmosphere and an expert in fishing.

Robin, the carpenter who always had an open ear for Leonore's questions and gave her a warm welcome, every time she came through the door.

Sure, there were many more, however she couldn't really get a better glimpse of the other people yet. She, much to her dismay, had to talk to those people to get to know them better.

This means to talk to those, who gave her a weird feeling - that feeling to just run away and not turning back.

Wonderful.

The thought of socializing again wasn't a thrilling sentiment to her; she had a few friends and that's it. 

No drama, no grave misunderstandings. It could stay this way.

Or even better, it should stay like this.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her overthinking, followed by a soft voice.

“Leonore, are you there?”

She went to the door, slightly perplexed.

Wasn't I at her place just an hour ago?

Her confusion even grew more after she saw what was going on.

A small gray tabby sat next to her, seemingly tired and full of curiosity. 

“Ah, hello Leonore! You see this cat here?”

Leonore’s gaze fell onto the fluffy being, a meow left the small animal's mouth.

“Indeed, I see it very clearly … was this cat here the whole time?”

“I found it sitting outside the entrance of your farm!”, Marnie stated.  She followed with a possible explanation, her eyes looking down on the cat with a melancholic gaze: “I think it's a stray … poor little thing.”

Concern and sadness washed over Leonore. Unfortunately, it's not uncommon for people to put animals in the middle of nowhere - sometimes they realize it's much more work than expected, or the person can't take care of the animal anymore and instead of a new home gets put outside. 

All by themselves, scared, confused. 

A young soul put into turmoil, forced to fight with nothing to support them - doomed to fail and to be taken away without the blooming beauty of life.

Horrible .

Marnie looked at the stray, noticing the cat coming closer to Leonore.

“I think it likes this place! Hey, um … “

She looked at Marnie with anticipation.

“Yes? What are you thinking about, Marnie?”

“Well, don't you think this farm could use a good cat?”

A cat …  on a farm. Sounds plausible, after all they could hunt the mice and keep things in check.

But there was a problem: she never owned a cat. But she liked them, she wasn't too unfamiliar with the fuzzy things.

Jasper wouldn't mind another friend with more fur.

“I never had a cat … but I could try. It looks like it wants to stay here too. I'll take it in, don't worry.”

“Wonderful! So, what name should this little guy get?”

Right, a name.

Leonore had the habit to overthink many things, it took her quite some time to think about a fitting name for Jasper, her bearded dragon.

But then, she found a good one.

“Oh, ah … I think I have one: Marble.”

She named her bearded dragon after a gem, the red scales reminded her of the same gem. There's nothing wrong with being a bit mysterious about the names, so she decided to name the cat Marble after the stone - gray with beautiful markings.

“Well, little Marble … you be a good kitty now … okay?”

Marble meowed at Marnie, almost as it understood what she told it.

The tabby cat walked into the cottage, seemingly tired from the constant waiting. 

After both women shared their farewells, Leonore returned to the familiar space and laid on the bed, returning to the thoughts that didn't left her.

She looked at Marble, the little cat already making itself comfortable. Better find out whether it was male or female, just in case.

“Let's go to our new path together, Marble. We will help each other out, lil’ guy.”

It wasn’t worth painting the future in dark, dim colors. Every person is their artist of their own life, they need a diverse pallet of paints and inspiration to bring the pieces to life - to make the project the way they've envisioned and hoped for.

[jimmycartersufo]

this is me having the Tuesday foh museum employee version of Sunday scaries. I love using tumblr as a sort of diary right now especially when writing my hand causes pain!

the last two weeks of work have been especially rough and this week I have some tough stuff to get through that I'm nervous about but it'll be OK. I just struggled with the unknown. time always moves too quickly this time of year and I'm desperate to hold on to my days off because I am so burnt out. the problem is when you're in between those biweekly checks and you're broke as hell but also it's been pouring down rain. I can't help but feel bad and guilty when I do nothing. I didn't do just nothing, I took care of my mom today and I've rested a lot but it still feels weird and bad.

I'm almost back to being in the green for my sick time. I used up all my sick time and my boss had payroll give me negative sick time which was a life saver. I miss my boss so much. everything has gone to shit without her. but she deserves so much better. clearly. anyway, in a couple weeks I'll start to see actual sick time build up again. and on July 1 I'll get more pto 🤡 but thankfully at least Juneteenth falls on a Wednesday so we will have a three day weekend. The museum won't pay it's workers more or respect their security dept (which is historically and systematically Black) but they will do land acknowledgements if they happen to put up a work by a Native person (aka no permanent land acknowledgement lol) and they'll give us Juneteenth off with pay. oh and back of house gets more pto than foh but I'm not here to list alllllll of my complaints rn. but we as a team are counting down the days so we can have a three day weekend. like yeah holiday pay on a day we already have off (every gov holiday that falls on a Monday) but would rather have a floating holiday for more pto. abyway I should hopefully have some sick time built up in a couple months to take a day off for rest.

falling behind on chores again. desp need to spring clean dust because ofc I have to be a maximalist autistic. still need to wash my beach combing finds from a few weeks ago. still need to hang stuff up. the most I can do is pick up a little. do a load of laundry but share the labor with my husband because we don't have the capacity for either or alone. do dishes maybe. make breakfast, lunch, and John makes dinner. take care of mom which is hard sometimes but more than anythjng it has to be done and I can trick my brain into not being an asshole about it. make the bed but in a more "lazy" way. take care of myself and stick to my barely there routine. medicine with alarms, brush teeth, set out the clothes I want to wear at least a day ahead but two days if possible. shower when it's been too long. lotion on my face and my arms and my legs if I can tolerate it. drink water. try and keep my salt levels up. stretches even if it's in bed. my daily puzzles. learn something new (read an article and or a wiki page).

at least tomorrow we get paid. I have to save money for when we go to an Orioles game soon. need to figure out when and how and where we are viewing the eclipse. grocery shopping. taking care of mom if dad is working late/in traffic. look over what bills are do this check. thankfully we get paid I think three times this month? JK it's may we get three paychecks but thankfully I get paid the week of my mom's birthday!!!!!!

I work on late shift this month. bad because no extra money but good because I am so fucking exhausted. I'm basically a sorta manager without all the manager roles and Def not the pay. but that's basically what I am now. thinking about it makes me sick. I goofed up somewhere to end up here with this responsibility. but also it was happenstance. I understand that. and that I have been masking so well for so long.

it's autism awareness day. I am autistic. I am finally feeling right with that. it's been over a year now, and I've spent that time reflecting on my life and the way I am. I was lucky that my sister has been in programs and I basically knew a guy that knew a guy that knew a guy. but I don't have like, a therapist or anthring to guide me through the realities of hey you're autistic and this is why you think and do xyz. I wish I listened to autistic friends years ago that said hey you're autistic and I was like no not me, I don't do this thing but the thing is a lot of those things I didn't think I did I literally did not understand the questioning which is funny. I can't really think of a good example but like you read a question like do you struggle to make eye contact and irs like yes but only in certain circumstances like when I don't know someone but you don't have the way to answer with nuances so you just say no. not the best example but it's like that. what's so interesting about being diagnosed late is you start to kind a breakdown the safety nets of masking and then it seems like you're faking because you're doing all this stuff not in private anymore, like you're regressing or something and it's like no I was just playing a role.

today for dinner I had chicken nuggets and heinz pickle ketchup and we watched a video about being in wdw on 9/11 and I was like oh

rigut now I'm trying to follow my night routine but I'm so anxious to sleep. I did sleep in really late today after sleeping poorly and then getting up to take care of mom in the morning. I woke up just before noon after going back to bed about nine???? so I'm not very tired. I'm going to go figure out my lunch for tomorrow so I don't worry about it in the am and then I'm going to check the laundry and if it's dry enough get my favorite pair of undies (tomboyx boy shorts) and my favorite pants (green!!) and find a top and then make the bed comfy and then I'm gonna use my new neck massager even though I've probably used it too much today and I hope to find a nice wiki article to read :)))))))

[allisnotgoodrn]

Sunday, June 25, 2023

Incident #1 - Grocery Run Detour

We needed to go on a grocery run to stock up for the week, and my sister offered to drive. Our first stop was to get water. Along the way, we ended up taking a detour because my sister accidentally switched lanes and didn't feel comfortable changing back due to heavy traffic. This annoyed me, which only made her more uneasy. She started getting agitated and went on a small rant about how I'm a terrible co-pilot, claiming that I undermine her confidence in driving.

In my typical fashion, I chose to remain silent. Speaking up would only escalate things, and I didn't want to engage in an argument that I knew I couldn't win. She always sees herself as "right" while I'm perpetually "wrong." We decided to take another detour to check out the nearby park, prolonging our journey back to the main road. My sister grew increasingly frustrated with me for not being a good co-pilot and began belittling me, suggesting that she should rely on herself instead of my guidance. Feeling the need to resolve the situation, I pulled out my phone and used the Google Maps app to navigate us back onto the correct path.

After a few moments of silence, my sister shifted the topic to her experience in grad school, particularly the challenges she faced with certain individuals. This wasn't the first time she had shared these stories with me. I had heard them countless times before, but I never quite knew how to console her. Even when I tried, it was never sufficient. It invariably led to an argument where she claimed that I didn't understand and wished I were more adept at saying the right things. In any case, I interrupted her mid-sentence to point out a Doggy Daycare building, reminding her that it served as a landmark for locating the nearby grocery store. This greatly upset her, as she accused me of not letting her express herself and preventing her from finding healing. Once again, I fell silent. When we finally arrived at Grocery store, she was too angry with me to go inside, choosing instead to remain in the car and plug in her AirPods

—

Advice I got from an AI:

It seems like there are a few key issues that contributed to the tension between you and your sister during the grocery run. To handle similar situations more effectively in the future, consider the following recommendations:

1. Open communication: Foster an environment of open communication where both you and your sister can express your feelings and concerns without fear of judgment or arguments. Create a safe space for dialogue, allowing each other to share thoughts and emotions without interruption.

2. Active listening: When your sister shares her experiences or vents her frustrations, try to actively listen and empathize with her. Instead of offering solutions or advice right away, validate her feelings and let her know that you understand her perspective. Sometimes, people simply need to be heard and acknowledged.

3. Choose the right time: Timing is crucial when discussing sensitive topics or sharing personal experiences. If your sister begins talking about her grad school struggles, be mindful of the situation and find an appropriate moment to engage in the conversation. If you're unable to provide the support she needs at that moment, let her know that you want to hear her out but suggest revisiting the discussion later when you can give it your full attention.

4. Show support: While you may not always have the perfect words to comfort your sister, showing support and empathy can make a difference. Let her know that you're there for her and willing to listen whenever she needs to talk. Encourage her to express herself and offer reassurance that you'll do your best to understand her perspective.

5. Avoid escalating conflicts: If a disagreement or argument arises, try to de-escalate the situation by remaining calm and composed. Recognize that it's okay to have differing opinions and that winning an argument is not the goal. Instead, focus on maintaining a respectful and understanding attitude, even if you choose to disengage temporarily to avoid further conflict.

6. Find alternative solutions: In situations where navigation becomes a point of contention, consider using a GPS app or device to avoid disagreements. This way, you can rely on objective directions rather than personal interpretations, reducing the potential for conflict.

Remember, improving communication and resolving conflicts takes time and effort from both parties. It's important to approach these situations with empathy, patience, and a willingness to understand each other's perspectives.

[mayaflowerxs]

BABY MAKING

Synopsis: What was meant to be a quick shopping trip to Target ends in you and your husband trying for a second baby.

Warning: Fluff / Humorish / Smut. Swear word usage, Est. Couple, Father!Jaehyun, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, and more!

A/N: Here’s a little something while I finish the requests sorry it’s taking a while, anyways enjoy! :)

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem reader

Your parents had insisted on looking over your daughter which you didn’t hesitate to agree. You had to admit, you love your daughter a blessing really but it’s gotten a point in your life where you just need that fresh breath of air. Even if it means your time be spent running errands. Much like you, your husband was on the same page. Endless nights from both work and parenting takes a toll on a person. The eye bags on both yours and his face have gotten visibly deeper along with the noticeable fatigue. And as you drop off your daughter with one last kiss to her adorable little head, the two of you were off.

Target. The store where there’s practically everything one could possibly need. You enter wearing baggy sweats and lose t-shirt. Hair in a messy bun as you start looking over your grocery list, for the lack of time the list has gotten rather long. Jaehyun by your side as he took the responsibility in maneuvering the cart. “Eggs, Milk, Diapers, Paper Towels…” as the two of you go aisle by aisle you felt yourself at ease for the time being. For a while it seemed like it was only you two. Just how it was only a year ago. It still feels odd to think you’re a mother now. Staring down at your hand and seeing the pearly white Diamond glimmering on your ring finger, shifting your eyes and seeing Jaehyun’s as well. Feeling his elbow nudge you, you look up at him. A soft smile on his face as he tilts his head at you. “You okay? You kinda spaced out on me.” Chuckling lightly you nod, “I’m good. You got the formula?” “Right here. Oh look they have my socks I wear.” Letting him walk off to inspect the aisle of socks, you check off the formula on your list. Waiting for your husband to choose a pair of socks took quite a while, too long you might say. And just before you’re about ready to hurry him up you hear the cry of a baby behind you.

Turning and seeing a mother had been strolling by, picking up her son as she consoles him. You can’t help but smile at the scene, until you stopped. With wide eyes, you turn to face your husband. “Jae gimme your hoodie.” Not turning to face you he responds, “Baby didn’t I say to bring a sweater? I told you it was gonna be cold.” He snorts wincing when you leave a rather hard smack on his bicep. Looking back, his eyes widen when he sees you clenching your chest. “Are you…?” “Yes Jae, I’m lactating!” The sound of a baby’s cry has left a wet patch on your through your shirt.

Yay on motherhood.

Quick to take his hoodie off, he covers you from any passerby’s. “Can’t believe this is happening.” Hearing Jaehyun chuckle, you send him a glare as you are left uncomfortably soaked. “Lets just get the rest of the groceries and get out of here.” You tell him annoyedly, and without another word he grabs his socks and quickly puts it in the cart.

With every passing second spent in Target was just another second your poor breasts were being filled with milk. And as the thought came in, the realization settled. “God I forgot the breast pump is broken.” You say, “It’s alright we can go grab another it’ll be the last thing before checking out.” Nodding the two of you make your way out. About to enter the aisle you’re forcibly knocked into another person walking out in a hurry. Clutching your chest in pain by the sudden pressure. “Excuse you!” Jaehyun shouts when he sees the woman simply walk by without even acknowledging your presence. Rolling his eyes at her, his irritated expression changes immediately of one of worry. “You okay baby?” Out of words to say from the pain you simply nod and wave him off. Instead you merely point at the breast pump. “Right.” Grabbing it and putting it in the cart, he wraps an arm around your waist and helps you move. By the time the two of you made it outside, you didn’t wait for Jaehyun and instead grabbed the box with the pump and ran straight to the passengers seat.

A grin on his face as he watched you, wearing slides and holding your chest as you struggled to open the door, looking up at him and seeing he had the keys held up for you to see. “Open it!” He hears you yell in which he snorts and does so. By the time he’s done filling the trunk with the grocery bags, he gets in and sees you almost filling a bottle full of breast milk. “Did not think it’d get swollen so quickly.” You moan in pain as you try to massage the tender breast. Sending you a sympathetic smile he leans in and kisses you. “Love you.” He mumbles on your lips. “Yeah yeah-“ You say trying to not put much attention to the obvious heat your face was getting from his words. Years later and still he had you a blushing mess. Hearing him laugh, he leans further and presses a kiss on your boob. Buckling in, he turns on the ignition and looks over at you. “Want Starbucks? Heard it’s okay to have a bit of caffeine while breast feeding…I can even get you a cake pop.” Looking at him, you contemplate it for a bit before nodding. Smiling, he rests a hand on your thigh and gives it a soft squeeze before backing out of the parking lot.

By the time you’re in the drive thru and waiting in the long line of cars, Jaehyun can’t help but revert his eyes over at you. The pumping is rather loud and after a while it’s gotten annoying with his hoodie constantly in the way so you pushed it up and now have your entire chest out in the open. Thank god for the tinted windows you managed to convince him to get. Swallowing as he bounces his leg quicker than ever. “Geez what’s gotten you so fidgety?” You joke at him, completely oblivious to the effect you have on him. Missing the hard gulp he takes, he doesn’t have time to respond to you before he’s having to drive forward and roll his window down. The man about to read him his bill, gets his words caught in his throat when he noticed you. Jaehyun whips his head around and grabs his hoodie and tugs it down. A whine escapes you as it caused the bottle to tip and have some of the milk spill.

“Jae-“ Face palming when you see the poor boy’s face red and hot you look down. Resting a hand on the arm rest covering your view of him. “Sorry about that.” Jaehyun can merely say before handing him his card. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the cashier mutters out a low, ‘it’s okay’ before swiping the card.

“You could have at least warned me.” You tell him the second the window is up and getting out of the drive thru. “I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking how could I?” “What, are you saying my breasts are too distracting?” You ask him as you take a bite out of your cake pop. He goes to respond but is cut off when you groan in pain again. “God I don’t understand how my girls can work so fast. I’m already full again!” Hearing the sound of the pump again, Jaehyun takes a quick glance over and seeing your breasts were out in the open again. Feeling the familiar tightness in his pants he shifts in his seat uncomfortably before clearing his throat. “Babe I know it’s something out of your control but-“ he barely manages to get out as his hand grips on the steering wheel, his other on your thigh riding higher up your leg.

“Oh my god are you seriously turned on right now?” You say surprisingly. “Can you blame me? You know I’m a titties man.” Slapping his chest, he smirks and glances over at you briefly. “Gosh when aren’t you horny?” “Hey I didn’t see you complaining the night our daughter was conceived.” Mouth slightly parted you squint your eyes at him. “My period was close to kicking in, my hormones were running high.” “Yeah,” he scoffs. “Hormones alright let’s blame it on that.” He finishes while trailing higher until they rest on top of your clothed cunt. Gasping, you grip his wrist. “Still sensitive as always, shall I blame that on the hormones as well?”

Smirking when he sees you spread your legs he begins to rub circles. A small moan falls off your lips, “Of course I’m sensitive, I did just shit out a baby a few months ago.” “Birthed babe, you birthed our daughter.”

“Yeah well when you’re in a state of pure agony you no longer give a shit if you were constipated or giving birth either way, you’re being ripped apart regardless.”

Lifting your hand, he takes it up to his lips and presses a kiss. “And I’m so proud of you for that. I don’t say it enough but you really are so strong and admirable, I could never and it’s why I love you so much.” Sending him a soft smile, you pick up your drink and take a sip of it. For a while it was silent the car ride home, and it isn’t until you’re only a block away does he speak up.

“I’m still horny by the way.”

The groceries go ignored the second Jaehyun parks in the drive way. Carrying you inside the empty house his focus is on you. Sliding his tongue in your mouth as you run your hands through his hair. Setting you on to the closest furniture, the couch. He begins to take off his shirt. Tossing it aside as he leans back in to attach his lips with yours. Large hands roaming up your stomach, lifting your shirt to trace the beautiful stretch marks he’s fallen in love with. A memory of when you were pregnant with his daughter. Finding his way to your breasts where you let out a loud moan the second he punches your nipples. Trailing gentle kisses on them and feeling himself get harder when he notices a small streak of your milk fall down your chest. The tightness in his jeans is painful, and his grunts are heard throughout the house the second your hand is placed on top of his bulge.

“Please baby.” “What is it my love?” He curls a finger underneath your chin and tilts his head. “Mhm?” “Let me make you feel good.” Pupils dark and dilated, he finds no reason to object. Standing up and unbuckling his belt, he hissed when the cool air hits his hard cock. Soft hands fisting him as you kitten lick him. Too slow for his taste, and so he grabs your chin and gets you to open. Grabbing his dick and propping it in your mouth. “Good girl.” He groans when he feels your tongue salivate him. Taking him deeper and quickening your pace. Bobbing your head as you gag every now and then. Music to his hears, enamored with your beautiful eyes that look up at him for approval. “Taking me so well, keep sucking pretty girl.” Fisting your hair in his hold his breathing becomes uneven the sloppier you suck him. Pulling away and a long stripe of your saliva connecting you to him. He’s red and veiny and it only makes you want to keep sucking him more. Until he’s completely empty. Jaehyun was right, hormones wasn’t the reason why you yearned for him so much. You being on your period wasn’t why you got pregnant. You got pregnant because you want him, everyday. A man so appealing like him is impossible to not be attracted.

The man standing before you yearns for you just as much. Seeing you on your knees taking his big cock is enough to fuck you with his babies any time of the day. With how sex craved the two of you are, he’s surprised it took you guys this long to finally get pregnant. The slurps and gargles are heard bouncing off the walls, grunts and groans coming from your husband add on to it. His abs are clenched when he feels the familiar feeling beginning to form. Throwing his head back, he starts fucking your throat. With need and desperation he’s trying to find his climax. “Shit!” He can’t help but swear when you suck in your cheeks. The tightness around his dick, your warm mouth and talented tongue is enough to throw him over the edge. He feels himself explode in your mouth, shooting it all down your throat. Shivers coursing throughout his skin when he feels you hum on his dick. Watching you swallow every single drop. A small twinkle in your eyes as a bit of his cum falls from the crevice of your mouth. Leaning in to kiss you, he tastes the saltiness of himself. “Not done with you yet.” He murmurs on top of your lips.

He was right. For the time your parents had your daughter, Jaehyun took it as an opportunity to get back some husband and wife bonding time. He missed your touch, and even though the cuddling and make outs are just as good he still craved you. Seeing you pumping milk did things to him and even though it pained him to see you in labor tired and in pain it only made him want to love you a thousand times more. Your round belly and the after glow of postpartum birth, he feels like a dog thinking this way but he can’t help but want to fuck another baby in you. So soon but he wants to, needs to.

The two of you always spoke of how many kids you’d want and even though Jaehyun was the one who wanted a big family in comparison to you, the two of you agreed you at least wanted the kids to be close in age. Which is why he has no problem getting you nice and spread on the kitchen counter. Not caring you were in the middle of putting away the milk you had just pumped, and instead focuses on making you come over and over again with his tongue. Get you nice and soak so you’re ready to take him for countless rounds it takes to get you nice and stuffed. “Jae!” You hiccup, he doesn’t remove his mouth. He doesn’t even flinch, instead he buries his face further into your pussy. Eating you like a starved man and grunting each time your nails tugged a little too hard on his hair. “Baby it’s too much!” You throw your head back on the table. Completely naked for him just the way he likes it, hickies left all over your skin trailing them down to your sensitive pussy where your legs are trying their hardest not to close. Your husband’s large hands keeping them spread as he spits on your clit before diving right back in.

Your breath hitches as you shake in his hold. Another orgasm is ripped out of you, tears falling down your face. Jaehyun can feel you throbbing on his tongue, your sweet juices hitting his tastebuds. Finally, he pulls away. A shimmer around his mouth as he pulls you closer to the edge of the table. Leaning in to press a firm kiss on your lips, muffling the loud moan of yours when he forced himself inside you. No matter how much scissoring and tongue fucking he’s done you simply refuse to get used to his size. Your husband’s too big and it’s what drives you into subspace. He knows that, which is why he fucks you for hours if he really wanted to. Until he sees your pretty tears and face lost in pure bliss does he let up. Your husband has insane stamina, he can go for so long without ever climaxing. That’s unless you blow him, then he turns putty for you.

“So big!” You gasp out, eyes shut but Jaehyun doesn’t like that. No, you can’t lose yourself right now. He needs your eyes on him, to see how beautifully connected you two are. How well you take him, tapping your cheek he presses a soft kiss on your cheekbone. “Open those pretty eyes for me mama.” Mewling, he doesn’t give you time to disobey him. Lightly slapping the side of your face to get you to look at him and when you do he can’t help but grin. You looked ethereal in your current position, seeing you shining in sweat, chest covered in his love marks and lips swollen he can practically go feral for you. So he does. Gripping your legs and hovering them over your hips he begins to ram into you. The claps much louder along with your moans. Breath hitching each time he hits your gspot, your hands quick to grab onto his forearm digging your nails into his skin. Giving him space to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. His favorite place to stuff his face in second to stuffing it in your sopping pussy.

You feel his hot tongue running up your neck, shivering at the sensation especially when your husband doesn’t show signs in slowing down. Your walls gripping him tightly the harder he pounds into you. It felt good, so good your eyes began to tear up. Squelches were heard as your stomach kept clenching. When he pulls away, his hair is in the way. His eyes slightly covered, looking down he lets out a loud grunt upon seeing the prominent bump near your lower abdomen. “Where you feel me?” He huskily asks. “So deep!” Grabbing your hand, he leads it down to your stomach and has it lying on top of the print of his tip. “Feel me here baby?” “Yes!” Throwing your head back when he stops his movement to focus on thrusting further. “How about now?”

You couldn’t answer, you felt full and pure bliss. And as much as you’d like to indulge in the pleasure, your husband has a need for you to remind him how good he makes you feel. “Answer me.” “God I feel you in my stomach Jae!” It’s all he wanted to hear to get back to fucking you. Plunging in and out, quick motions before he pulls out and turns you around. Despite the insane amount lust he has, he takes the time to grab a pillow and rest it under your hip. Gentle to pull your hair away from your face and use it as leverage when he goes back to ramming inside you.

“I’m so close!” He’s gone silent, and you know once he is it means he too is close. And as the two of you are hitting your climax, you’ll soon come to find out this won’t be the last of it today.

Your parents are meant to drop your daughter off soon, in an hour precisely when the clock strikes 9 but Jaehyun wasn’t worried. He’s taken the initiative to have sex with you on all the surface inside the house. He can’t quite explain where this sudden horniness came from, maybe the breast pumping truly was a turn on for him and he just now acted upon it. It only took about half up to an hour before Jaehyun attached himself back on you. Wrapping his arms, pressing heated kisses to the nape of your neck, rubbing his groin up against your ass before he bends you over whatever surface nearest to you. By the time night came, your and his hair looked completely disheveled along with bruised lips. Necks covered in dark colors and both reeking of sex.

Couch, bed, kitchen counter, wall, door it was endless and he was sure he had gotten you pregnant by now. You guys went at it like a bunch of bunnies no way he didn’t knock you up. And as he lied on the bed watching you get ready to shower, the thought of you wet and naked had him getting hard again. Not even uttering a single word before he follows you in. “Excuse me?” Not responding, he closes the door and begins to take off his shirt. Revealing his toned chest to be covered in scratch marks, fainted lipstick and hickies. “One more won’t hurt right?” He raises a brow and smiles mischievously. “Are you trying to impregnate me with twins or something?” Shrugging, he picks you up and settles you on the counter. Pressing his lips on top of yours, he helps take off your oversized tee. “Would it be so bad?”

Giggling, you open your legs to let him fit right between them. Seeing his eyes darken as he leans in to start fondling with your breasts. Gasping when you feel yourself starting to lactate. “Jae!” Holding you still he continues to suck. Your tits were sensitive, you couldn’t hold still but this never faltered the man in front of you. Instead he grew determined and as he tastes your sweet milk he knew, there was absolutely no way he could wait who knows how many days before he can have you to himself again. Play with you as much as his heart desires. So, with reluctance he pulls away. Watching a few drops fall on your stomach. Leaning in to lick it up, you feel yourself begin to get excessively wet again. Playing with his soft hair, your intrusive thoughts wanting you to simply push his head a bit further to where you most need him.

“Be right back, need to make a call. Get in while I do that.” He says hurriedly. Curling a finger around your chin, he pulls you in for another wet sloppy kiss before walking out the bathroom. With a huff, you do as told and get into the shower. And while the bathroom steamed up, waiting impatiently for your husband to return and fuck you. Jaehyun quickly picked up his phone and dialed the familiar phone number. One ring, two rings and on the third they picked up.

“Afternoon Mrs. Y/l/n, so sorry to bother but something came up and I don’t think we’ll be home tonight. You wouldn’t mind if she stayed with you for the night right?”

[bubuslutty]

Day 2: I 💜 DILFS

All Parts

pairing: angel/demon fem!reader x 141

word count: 2.2k

tags: semi-canon compliant, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as 'Angel', 3rd person pov, minimal description of appearance, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warning: none

summary: This is day 2 of meeting 141 and Angel starts her assignment, officially.

a/n: can u tell im British when reading? sometimes I accidentally spell words in the American way cuz English is my third language but I swear I live in the UK 😀

It was Saturday, and Angel didn't have to be anywhere. After getting settled in her new home, she woke up excited to start her assignment officially. She stared at her huge wardrobe and at the ridiculous amount of accessories. Hands on her naked hips and hair sticking to her face and neck, she was humming while her cat, Kuromi, was making biscuits on the unmade bed.

“What should I wear today?” She mused out loud, the sunlight coming from her bedroom window warming her semi-wet skin pleasantly. She grabbed a very short jean skirt and held it in front of Kuromi, “What about this?” She asked, laughing.

“You’re right, this is not very grocery shopping friendly.” She nodded, putting the skirt away and grabbed a pair of baggy jeans, underwear and stopped herself before reaching for a bra. Her eyes landed on a cropped t-shirt that fit her like a glove. She grinned while holding the garment in front of her, “Oh, yeah, I’m wearing you today, and no bra.”

Angel giggled, while Kuromi was busy playing with a loose thread she found on the floor.

.

.

.

“Alright, lads, who wants to go to Tesco with me?” Price asked while wearing his wristwatch, already dressed to go out.

“Me!” Gaz exclaimed, looking up from his phone on the couch and running upstairs to get his hoodie and a jacket.

“Ghost, are you going?” Soap asked the man, who was watching a random show on the TV.

“No, are you?” Ghost said, looking over at the man.

“Yeah, I want some snacks. They provided us with old people food before sending us here, no offence, Captain, I want some chocolate and biscuits.” Soap complained, slipping on his jacket, making Ghost chuckle.

“Fuck off, Johnny.” Price said, without looking up from checking his wallet.

“D’you need anything, Simon?” Gaz asked when he walked back down, fixing his hood over his head and checking he had his phone on him.

“No, thanks, Gaz.” Ghost shook his head and shifted his attention back to the TV.

“Alright, if you need anything, call us. Let’s go.” Price said to Ghost who hummed in acknowledgement and the three walked out of the house, closing the door behind them.

“I call dibs on the passenger seat!” Soap quickly said, making Gaz laugh, the two walked towards the car in their driveway before Price’s voice made them look back.

“You’re alright, there?”

Price was standing with the car keys in his hands, looking at his very attractive neighbour, who was frowning down at her phone, standing in front of her door dressed so much more casually than the first time they met.

When Angel heard him, she lifted her head and immediately smiled, “Oh, hi! I’m just trying to get myself an Uber but the app’s acting up.”

“Where are you going? Maybe we can drop you off if it’s on our way...” Price suggested, and completely missed how both Gaz and Soap glanced at each other, smirking.

“Aw, that’s so sweet. But I’m just going to Tesco’s, I need to buy a few things so don’t bother yourself with that, I can try again on the app.” Angel said, sheepishly laughing.

“Oh, we’re going there too!” Soap loudly said, making Gaz grin when Price took a deep breath.

“Yeah, we also need to buy a few things, come with us!” Gaz said, grinning and looking at his Captain then his hot neighbour.

“That would be amazing! if you don’t mind of course.” Angel said, looking at Price and his eyes widened, "Why would I mind? Come on, get in."

When Price unlocked the car, Soap opened the passenger's seat door wide and spread one of his arms, "Please, allow me." He said in an overly posh accent which made Angel laugh.

"Thank you, Johnny." She smiled and got in, buckling herself in.

When everyone buckled in, Price started the car and drove out of the driveway. "Which Tesco's are we going to, by the way?"

"We're going to take the M25 and go to the one outside the area. Is that alright?" Price said, stealing a quick glance at the woman seated next to him.

"Wait, isn't that far? Aren't we in inner London?" Angel frowned, confused.

"No, love. We live in the outer circles, it's only going to take us 20 minutes to get there if there's no traffic." Price said.

"Sorry, first time living here." Angel apologised, feeling sheepish.

"It's alright, you don't have to apologise." Price said, making her smile.

"Sorry to interrupt, but am I dreaming or does your t-shirt say 'I heart DILFS'?" Soap asked, leaning forward from his seat at the back.

Both Gaz and Price seemed to be taken back by the question and also very surprised. Angel glanced down at her t-shirt and smirked, "Yeah, it does."

Right as the words left her mouth, Gaz started laughing and Soap had a stupid grin on his face. "That's an interesting choice of clothing, don't ya think?"

"I bought it as a joke.." Angel said, glancing at Price.

"But do you actually love dilfs? That's the most important question, don't ya think so, Captain?" Soap asked, radiating mirth and mischief.

Price glanced at the rear-view mirror and glared at Soap, who didn't seem to be intimated one bit.

"I don't know, maybe?" Angel shrugged while wearing a grin.

Then Angel felt a little evil all of a sudden, and cleared her throat, "Do you know what a dilf is, John?"

In reality, she wore that t-shirt because it reminded her of John. She knows he doesn't have children, he's not even married, never was for that matter. But in the mortal realm, young humans are fascinating on the Internet. Angel when she's bored, she opens up her laptop and accesses the servers on the planet, and sees what they're up to.

Imagine her surprise when she witnessed young mortals calling older celebrities, both men and women, dilfs and milfs just because they were older and attractive. They often claim the label doesn't necessarily mean the said person is a father or mother. Most of the time, it's just pure vibes, and it's honestly just for shits and giggles.

She bought the t-shirt a while back, before even getting her task force 141 wish assignment, and was surprised to find that John Price, could be in fact, considered a dilf.

John isn't even old, he's 37 and would look so much younger than he actually was if he didn't go through so much stress and difficult work for so many years. Either way, Angel isn't even bothered by his age because at the end of the day, she was older than all of the men, ages combined. But obviously didn't look like it, due to her immortal nature. Her files say she's 25 this time, so there's that.

"How can I not? You learn all sorts of new things when you're around someone like Johnny." He said and heard Soap gasp at the back, offended and demanding what did that mean.

Angel grinned at that and remembered to ask them something. "I have a question; Why did Johnny call you captain?"

"We work together." Price answered while Gaz and Soap were watching them in silence.

"Can I guess what work you do?" Angel grinned. She already knew their occupation, but she had to ask, had to play her cards right, use everything to get closer to them and build a mutual trust between them.

"Alright, guess." Price shrugged.

"Okay, uhm, are you….. Rugby players?!"

All three men seemed surprised at her guess, "Rugby players? Haven't heard that one before." Gaz said.

"I mean Rugby teams have a captain, right?" Angel mused.

"Aye, they do." Soap confirmed.

"And you're all very big and strong, so it's very likely you're part of a rugby team." Angel said proudly, with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Ah, makes sense." Gaz nodded, grinning. He imagined his team and himself in the field, wearing tight jerseys and shorts, knees muddy and sweating. It would be fun, playing all together in the base against the rookies to encourage teamwork and healthy competitiveness.

"We'd make a killer team, no?" Soap looked at Gaz who nodded.

"We're not a Rugby team." Price chuckled, making Angel's smile drop.

"You're not? What a shame. Well, I only had two guesses, so that only leaves me with one." Angel pouted.

"What is it?" Gaz asked, looking at her cute frown and shiny pink lips.

"Pirates.." She mumbled, glancing at Price who started laughing.

"Pirates? Why?" Soap laughed.

"First of all, you call him captain, and your said captain has a beautiful beard, not to be stereotypical or anything.." Angel explained making Gaz grin.

"My beard?" Price said, running a hand through it.

"You laughed, so I'm going to assume I was wrong." She said, acting slightly frustrated at guessing wrong.

"You do have a beautiful beard, Captain." Soap smirked, reaching at the front to squeeze the man's shoulder.

"If you said, marines, you would still be wrong but still close." Gaz said, making her eyes widen.

"Really?"

"We're in the army, special forces." Price finally said, glancing at the civilian woman next to him.

"Okay, yeah, my guesses were very wrong." Angel blushed, embarrassed.

Now that they revealed their occupation by themselves, she can get to reveal her occupation and make them share their nicknames. She knows that they're only living next to her for work, for random short breaks, away from their families. And she knows they would prefer for her to use their field names, to protect their privacy but also her, as a civilian, to some extent. The only reason they haven't given them to her yet is to not weird her out. But they'll get to it, Angel will make sure of it.

"Are all of you special forces? Even Simon? Speaking of which, is he alright?" Angel asked and watched them tense up a bit and internally smirked, they're protective.

"What do you mean is he alright?" Soap asked, raising a brow. He thinks she's talking about his mask, maybe thinks she sees Simon as weird. Even though that's ridiculous, he was wearing a surgical mask when she first saw him, and normal people would probably assume he had a cold and didn't want to pass it on. But she knows Ghost's team is used to him wearing his skull mask more often than not, and probably forgot he wasn't wearing one that day.

How adorable are they?

"All of you are out except him." Angel said, voice brimming with innocence and genuine concern.

She noticed how the tension left their bodies and looked at Price for explanation.

"He's alright, just wanted to rest at home. And to answer your question, yes we're all in special forces, we're just here for work." Price said, making her nod.

"What do you do for a living?" Gaz asked, changing the subject.

"I'm a sex therapist and PhD student." She said.

"That's amazing! What's your field of research?" Price asked, glancing at her and back at the road.

"Psychology." Angel revealed, smiling proudly.

The funny thing about realising wishes, is that lying becomes so easy. You get given a scenario to follow, a character to study and become. And then manage to slowly become that character to the point where your reactions are genuine while your mind is fully aware that you're not who you say you are. It's an act, and a really good one at that.

You're even incapable of feeling guilty over lying to humans. Because Wish angels are gifted with powers that allow them to achieve almost anything and everything. I lied about knowing the Royal family? The Wish Office will temporarily tamper with history, memory and fate and manage to make you exist in the mind of the royals, as if they always knew you. It's an incredible power, completely able to create and destroy anything and everything.

But luckily, Wish angels have no interest to mess up with the humans beyond realising their wishes. They can tamper with time and memory, but after their assignment is completed, everything will return to normal, with the exception of the realised wish.

And so far, Angel hasn't felt the need to use any of her powers on the men. And she doesn't think she will any time soon.

"That's very impressive, the dedication you have is admirable." Gaz said and Johnny agreed, nodding.

Angel flushed at the compliment, "I'm just trying my best, but thank you either way."

The car was enveloped in comfortable silence, the big superstore now in view when Soap spoke.

"Why do you prefer Angel instead of Angela?"

Angel smiled, "There was a girl who had the same name as me back in primary school, and since then, I was always called Angel to differentiate us. It feels natural to be called Angel, instead of Angela. That's what I prefer at least."

"Well, in that case call me Soap." Johnny said, grinning.

"Soap.. It's nice, you have to tell me the story behind it one day." She smiled.

"Maybe." Soap winked.

"Call me Gaz instead of Kyle, please." Gaz added.

"Of course, Gaz is a pretty name." Angel turned to look at the man who flushed.

"What about you, Captain?" Angel turned to Price as he parked the car in the huge parking lot in front of Tesco.

"You can just call me John." He said, smiling at her.

"And Simon?"

"Simon will tell you his own nickname."

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @loveyhoneydovey @cutiecusp @pinkwigonmytv @mandythemint @itsberrydreemurstuff @tapioca-marzipan @fruitymoonbeams-blog @poohkie90 @chaoticevilbakugo @anubis-reed @thefairybird @skytacvia @marytvirgin @cynicalmnm @maechanexe @t0jis-worm @1800imgay

[thatbadadvice]

Help! My Employee Thinks She Deserves Pay In Exchange For Labor!

Ask A Manager, 19 October 2021:

I’m not comfortable with one of my new staff members and how overconfident she is. Her work is great and she needed very little training but she’s got very big britches.

“Jane” has only been with us for two months. Just today she asked for a meeting with me and our payroll manager. It turns out payroll made an error entering her direct deposit information that resulted in Jane not getting paid, not once but two times.

Our company requires potential candidates to complete sample assignments during the interview process and we pay them an hourly contractor rate. It turns out she didn’t get paid for her assignment period, or for the next full pay cycle. The payroll employee apologized directly to Jane in an email, because it was their error in entering her information and not following up/fixing it that resulted in Jane not getting paid. Jane was able to show emails back and forth where she checked in with the payroll employee and asked if it was fixed, which they confirmed it was. Today was payday and Jane didn’t get paid. She checked with the employee again and they acknowledged that they “thought” it was fixed. It’s upsetting for Jane, I understand, but I think she was out of line about the whole thing. People make mistakes.

Neither payroll nor I knew anything about it until today. We both apologized and assured her the issue would be handled. After that, she looked at me and the payroll manager and said, “I appreciate your apology, but I need you both to understand that this can’t happen again. This has put me under financial strain and I can’t continue to work for COMPANY if this isn’t corrected today.” The payroll manager was heavily in agreement, but I was speechless that she’d speak to management like that.

Payroll handled the whole thing and cut her a check with the okay from HR. Jane had referenced that not being paid put her in financial hardship and unable to pay bills, so HR allowed the use of the employee hardship fund and gave her $500 in gift cards so she can get groceries and gas and catch up on bills. I’m just kind of floored that she’s getting gift cards after speaking to her superiors like that. I’m also uncomfortable because why is our company responsible for her fiscal irresponsibility? Her personal finances or debts are not the company’s responsibility. I just don’t think it’s the company’s responsibility to give her more than what she’s earned (the extra $500 from the employee emergency relief fund) to fix things for her if she overspent or didn’t prioritize her bills or save smartly. We also don’t know if she is actually experiencing a financial hardship or just claiming she was.

HR allowed her paid time to go to the bank today and deposit her check. I told our HR person that while it’s not okay Jane didn’t get paid, the way she approached it was uncalled for. HR told me, “She’s right, it can’t happen again and it shouldn’t have happened at all.” I’m getting tired of the respect gap I’m seeing with younger staff. I think Jane would be better suited in a different department. I’m not comfortable having her on my team since it’s obvious she doesn’t understand she’s entry-level and not in charge. Should I wait a while before suggesting she transfer to a different department?

Dear Employer,

You raise a number of important issues, not least among them: why do we work? Do we work because the vast majority of us are helpless to escape a fundamentally exploitative global capitalist system that requires us to exchange our time and skills and labor for money or else simply fuck off and die? Or do we work because we must get taken down a peg or two before we get too uppity to be useful to our social and economic betters?

I'm being rhetorical, of course! The correct answer is the latter, obviously. Work is not something people should or even usually do for a paycheck, which is what makes this situation so bizarre! Work is something people do because it's the right thing to do, because it is intrinsically good for its own sake, which is to say: because it literally enriches and empowers only the most worthy in order to further distance otherwise useless, entitled grunts like your employee from getting anywhere close to laying even the barest finger, even a pinky finger, on the means of production. There's nothing more purely and altruistically satisfying than working, especially when we know that our labor serves to strengthen the boot upon our own necks! A strong boot means a happy worker! Huzzah!

And what you have here, letter writer, is not a happy worker — what you have here is a worker who believes work and pay are related, and that they are entitled to reimbursement for their work merely because that is the immutable and binding nature of the laws where you live. I can't think of a better example of one being too big for one's britches than this little grabby-gabby wiseass with the gall to demand payment for services rendered per an expressly agreed-upon prior contract between all parties.

It's a real shame that the law requires people to be paid for their labor regardless of whether they bring a sufficiently sunny attitude to the workplace, and there's certainly nothing sunny about being clear and direct that you cannot continue to work for free indefinitely with a spring in your step and a song in your heart! What kind of sourpuss can't show a bit of cheer in the office, even if the lights are off at home and they can't afford groceries or other basic essentials because of the repeated incompetence of an employer who holds their very survival in their hands? That's not the kind of can-do attitude that gets people ahead in this world!

Of course, by "people" we mean young people, who will never succeed as long as they remain universally and frightfully presumptuous. Everyone your age and older has unimpeachable comportment in every situation, whereas people who are younger than you are disrespectful smart-alecks — and it's frankly disturbing that your HR department conceded so quickly to your employee's unreasonable fixation on receiving money that she was legally entitled to! What's next, avocado toast and $5 lattes on demand???? A living wage???? Health insurance???? For an entry-level employee who's so poor with money management that she complains about going months without pay????

Only people who suffer in silence at length out of sheer and absolute terror at offending those who hold control over their financial wellbeing deserve to be paid money for food and shelter, and they can take their paychecks whenever your company damn well gets around to it, and thank you for the pleasure! Why wait to transfer this employee out of your department — surely you're not afraid of offending this selfish peon? Cut her loose, along with anyone else she might have influenced with her money-grubbing ways, and ensure that you are surrounded only with the worshipful lackeys you deserve!

[missmonsters2]

today I feel awful... idk my insecurities are taking over me and I just want to curl into a ball and cry. maybe it's my hormones maybe the fact that I weighted myself and found out I gained weight (I can't fit into my jeans 😭) and the fact that I saw my sister in a tight skin dress looking perfect while I'm in my pj's just destroyed my confidence. I need something angsty to read to make me forget about my sad, miserable lffe right now. would you be down in writing sth angsty with nat maybe? you don't have to though. it's fine either way. I really appreciate all of your work and I keep reading on repeat whenever I'm feeling down. makes me cheer up. thank you, van ❤️

It's like we're the same person because I also went to visit my sister recently and my sister has gotten her life together and is living her best hot girl bod while I...let's not go there.

I just want you to know that you're hot as fuck and a body is just a body that we can change with time and effort. We're lit rally in this together. This time next year, we will be rocking the body that makes up happy and we'll be healthy!!! 💘💘

But I will still give you nat angst...but with a happy ending bc I said you deserve a HEA!!

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The Withers of Springtime Bloom

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spring is a time of blooming and when things come back to life. You can't help but notice things that may be causing your relationship with Natasha to wither.

Warnings: self-esteem issues, insecurities about body, relationship with working out and food, seasonal depression. angst with HEA.

Count: 2.1k~

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You're not sure when things changed.

Things change so slowly after all.

Without you noticing, things change and change and change until one day, you do notice.

You notice that Natasha has become quieter, somber.

You notice the lack of date nights and affectionate touches.

You notice that you've let yourself go a little.

You're standing in front of the mirror, staring at your body with a frown. You've gained weight since dating Natasha, but relationship weight gain was normal, wasn't it?

But you remember how Natasha was just as fit as she was before she met you. Sure, she was a superhero, and you were a regular civilian; there was no reason for you to train long hours as Natasha did.

Still...

You turn to the side and peer at yourself in the mirror again.

You can't help but wonder...were you becoming less attractive to her?

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It had been the beginning of fall when you met Natasha. You loved the season of change and when things turned into warm colors before withering away for winter to come.

Natasha had come like a blessing, and in the winter, she was just warm as the colors of fall. Instead of withering away, she bloomed and invested that warmth in your relationship with her.

Despite always being an early riser to work out, weekends were the days she stayed in bed with you just a little longer. There had been so many breakfasts, lunch, and dinner dates. You found yourself moving things around or neglecting to work around her busy schedule.

Perhaps that was when things began to change. Eating out so often and forgoing working out to spend time with Natasha was what led to this.

Spring has arrived, and things are coming back to life. Yet somehow, your relationship with Natasha was withering away.

"Hey," you greet her as you come home, shopping bags in hand. You bought some more clothes when things felt like they didn't fit comfortably anymore. The experience had been upsetting for you, and you didn't end up buying too much, telling yourself you didn't want to spend too much when you were going to lose the weight.

Natasha was working in her office, peering down over reports, and barely acknowledged you other than with a hum.

"Long day?" You ask her as you put your things away and walk over to her.

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "Trying to get these reports done since Maria needs them tomorrow."

That had been Natasha's excuse for spending long hours in her office every night for the last two weeks.

You place your hand on Natasha's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, but she leans to the side as if to readjust herself, but still away from your touch.

The sting immediately comes, but you try to push it down, so it doesn't hurt as bad.

"Right," you say hoarsely, but Natasha stares on at the reports. "I'm just going to get ready for bed. It's been a long day and all. Let me know if you need anything."

Natasha gives you a nod as you leave the room. You feel awkward as you lie in the bed you share with her. You wonder if you're taking up too much space.

There's a pang of something as you try to curl yourself to be smaller and only distantly realizing you've skipped dinner before you fall asleep.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You fall back onto the mat, chest heaving and your lungs burning.

It's been a while since you've worked out, and now you're definitely paying for it with how unfit you are.

The gym is moderately empty with the hour it is. You hate going to a public gym because it always feels like someone is staring, but it's better for strangers to stare than working out at the Compound for people you know to stare at you.

The rational part of you knows that you should just talk to Natasha, but the emotional side of you whispers that you won't like what Natasha has to say, that she might even end it before you've had a chance to change yourself.

When weeks pass, and you weigh yourself again, you almost start crying because you've only lost a couple of pounds.

It's normal, you know it is. You're losing weight at a normal rate, but it's not enough. You know fast weight loss wouldn't make sense for your body but you also feel you don't have half a year to go back to your normal weight.

You sit on the bathroom floor for hours, debating what to do when you hear a quiet knock.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" Natasha's muffled voice comes through.

You wipe at your eyes furiously as you stand up.

"Y-Yeah," you answer back. "I'm just in the tub soaking."

There's a moment of silence through the door before Natasha answers back, "Alright. Enjoy yourself. Did you want me to order anything specific for dinner?"

"No, it's okay," you tell her. "You order anything you want. I already ate on my way home." You think about the chicken salad you've been eating for the past two weeks and almost sigh.

Natasha answered that she just came back to see if you've eaten, but she actually had to head back to the Compound. You were Natasha shuffling around before leaving through the front door, and you let out the breath you were holding.

You actually take a long, hot shower before putting on sweats and a big hoodie.

The truth was, you were hungry. The chicken salad was okay on the way home, but it had been a couple of hours since.

You knew starving yourself wasn't the answer, so you went into the kitchen to see if you could find something healthy to hold you over until you could go to bed.

But you can't find anything in the fridge except for Natasha's leftovers from whatever she ordered the day before. You can't find anything except frozen pizzas and microwavable foods.

You check the calories on the back and let out a frustrated sigh. Checking your watch, you realize it's too late in the evening to go grocery shopping because, by the time you get there, stores will have closed.

You slump down on the floor, leaning against the cabinets as you let out a pathetic whimper while your eyes became hot with tears.

You miss Natasha. You want Natasha holding you and telling you it would be okay. But you couldn't have that until you were back to what you were when you met her.

The front door suddenly opens.

"Have you seen my—sweetheart?" Natasha started to call before she noticed you sitting on the floor. "What's wrong?"

You use your sleeve to wipe at your eyes as you sit up straight.

"Nothing," you sniffle before you start to stand. "I just stubbed my toe against the edge of the kitchen island. What were you looking for? USB? You left it next to the bedside."

Natasha stares at your back, hair still wet as she takes in your attire.

"It's a little hot to be wearing a hoodie and sweats, isn't it?" Natasha asks softly. "Doesn't seem like you turned on the aircon in here."

You keep walking, but Natasha starts to follow you.

"'m cold," you say quietly so she can't hear the tremble in your voice.

"Are you feeling sick?" Natasha asks with concern as you sit down on the couch, turning on the TV. You pull the blanket over you as if to make your point.

"No," you tell her because you don't want her to worry. "Just cold after a bath."

Natasha sets her things down before she takes a seat next to you. Even in the low lighting, she can see your eyes rimmed red and dampness of them.

You're refusing to look at her as you have your knees drawn up to your chest and stare stubbornly at the TV screen.

Then she hears it.

Your stomach grumbles.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" Natasha asks softly again. "We can just order food and stay in tonight."

Your cheeks grow hot. "Don't you have to be at the Compound?"

You don't mean to snap at her, but you can't help but feel embarrassed.

Natasha remains quiet for a moment, quickly thinking over the last few weeks before she feels guilt trickle in.

She doesn't remember the last time she ate with you—doesn't remember the last time she saw you eat.

"Sweetheart," she calls you gently again, and you bristle at the tone. "Is there something wrong?"

The fragile dam you've built to keep the weeks of compiling emotions at bay breaks, and you're hurtling down the stream over the waterfall.

"Are you not in love with me anymore?" You choke out as you begin to cry.

You can't even register to feel horrified at your breakdown because you just need to know.

"I know...I know my body has changed since we first met and I've gained weight but I really am trying to lose it. I just—I feel like you're avoiding me. At first, I thought things at work have been really stressful for you, and I wanted to give you space but you're gone all the time. You're gone even when you're here."

Natasha can barely understand anything you've said after hearing you say the first part. Her breath hitches painfully in the back of her throat, and she legitimately feels appalled at herself.

She starts to say something, but you keep going.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to make this about me because if you're going through something then I want to support and be there for you. But I can't help but feel like you're grossed out by me. I mean—I feel grossed out when I look at myself. I feel like I'm taking up so much space—"

Natasha cuts you off abruptly, pulling off the blanket as she pulls at you until you're in her lap.

"Nat—"

"You're not gross and this is not about the weight you have or have not gained. You hear me?" Natasha says forcefully as she holds you close to her, hand over your thigh to keep you against her.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry if I've been making you feel like you're not attractive me," Natasha's eyes well up as your tears wet her shoulder. "You're literally still the most gorgeous person I've ever met and you're always going to be that to me."

Natasha's hand at your waist dips underneath your hoodie, her fingers trailing up your back as she sighs at your warmth. "I should've told you, but the springtime is just really hard for me. It's odd because it's a time for things to come back to life but some of the worst things have happened to me during the spring and things blooming makes me think about things that aren't coming back. I think it's also just a little bit of seasonal depression too. I'm just the rare percentage that gets it in the spring."

The explanation makes your body sag with relief because while you feel so horrible that there is a reason Natasha doesn't like spring, she's not falling out of love with you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I was hurting you," Natasha apologizes again. "I didn't mean to be so distant but I didn't want to bring your mood down as well, which is why I've been working so much to keep busy."

"It's okay," you muttered as your turn your head, forehead pressed against her neck. "I'm sorry spring is depressing for you."

Natasha merely hushes you as she kisses the side of your head.

You begin to feel awkward, thinking about how you must be heavy on her and try to move, but Natasha doesn't let you.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how to convince you that you're perfect to me," Natasha says so seriously as she forces you to look at her. "If you want to lose weight because that is what you want, then I support you. But I need you to understand that I love you no matter what. I don't care either way because you're so fucking lovely to me always. Do you understand?"

Timidly, you reply, "Okay. Thank you."

Natasha presses her lips against yours in a long kiss before she pulls back.

"Now, I'm going to ask again. Are you hungry? We can order in and watch that new show on Netflix I heard was pretty good from Wanda."

You feel lighter. You think you might still want to work out because that would make you happy, but you don't feel the rush like you did just a couple of hours ago.

"Yeah," you say shyly. "But maybe something not so heavy?"

Natasha nods as she presses another kiss into your cheek as she helps you settle onto the couch right beside her to grab her phone.

"Anything to make you bloom."

[4joonkookie]

27 Candles

💜 Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

💜 Words: 3.5K

💜 Summary:

A 12 hour diary of Namjoon’s 27th birthday.

💜 Tags/Warnings:

Smut, angst, breakup, DaddyJoon, Dom/sub, Daddykink, collars, Daddy/Babygirl, birthday sex, breakup sex, makeup sex, blindfolded sex, butt play, rough sex, spanking, riding, grinding, dirty talk, back scratching, fluff, Happy Birthday to the only man I’d call Daddy, not beta read, wish I had more time.

2:30 PM

After spending hours agonizing over your approach, you call Namjoon to wish him a happy birthday. It’s been a while since you’ve heard his voice. The low rumble sends vibrations through your body.

“We should celebrate,” you insist, exposing your ulterior motive.

“What do you want to do?” he muses.

You're quiet for a while, then take a deep breath.

“It's your birthday. I want you to tell me.”

The request is bold, but subtle enough. He lets out a low laugh, a knowing one, and clears his throat.

“Yeah?” his voice lowers, probably in an area with others. “You wanna be my good girl? Be good to me?”

“Yes,” you reply, just as low though, no one is around you. “I want you to have what you want for your birthday.”

Arousal pools in your belly while you fidget with your nervous hands.

“I like that idea,” he hums. “So I'll come by the apartment when I'm done?”

“No,” you assert, disrupting your compliance. “Can I see your new place?”.

He’s had his own place for over a month now but the place you shared is still “the apartment”.

“Sure, there’s not much there. It’s basically empty,” he replies.

You assure him that's just fine. Adjusting to living in “the” apartment without him has been hard enough. A new, less familiar place might make it easier. A place not-so-lived-in.

A place he can’t leave you again.

He’s quiet for a long time again before speaking.

“Is this a good idea?” he asks, in the exhale of a heavy sigh. His tone has changed, reality settling in.

“No,” you confirm, shaking your head although you’re alone.

The line is hushed, again. The silence is heavy with all of the unspoken “I miss you”, “I need you”, “something is missing without you”.

You both know where this goes, neither having the strength to step away.

3:37 PM

When the elevators open to his apartment corridor, there is a young woman kneeling at the door. Heart pounding, you walk slowly, keeping your head down and avoid eye contact altogether when she stands and begins to walk toward you. You quickly turn your head and breathe a sigh of relief to see her disappear behind the elevator doors.

A decorative basket sits at the front doorstep. You snatch it up, enter the lock code quickly and shut the door behind you.

The basket holds a bottle of champagne on dry ice. Also, a pair of lace panties. Two fixture items, surrounded by decorative flowers, candies and a notecard.

The note is a handwritten message about missing Namjoon on his birthday and a promise of wearing the panties “next time”; a drawn heart and scribbled name.

You open the champagne, chug from the bottle and toss the rest to the trash, attempting to discard the jealousy panging in your gut.

The breakup was two months ago. You hadn’t exactly agreed to “be friends”, it just happened. Though, you haven’t seen each other in person since he moved his things out.

You take in the view of the place. It’s enormously empty. The refrigerator and cabinets are empty, a layer of dust covering the bottom of the inside. A laptop and recording equipment are the only things set up in the living room alongside a couch. The Bedroom has no walls and sits on a raised platform in the living room, a total bachelor pad. Condom wrappers lay on the bedside table near the unmade bed. The bathroom counter, cluttered with his products and potions. You pick up the bottles one by one, searching for what’s new about him. Finally, the closet. You choose a shirt and to put on and discard everything else.

Your phone buzzes, Namjoon saying he’ll be there in about an hour. It’s sooner than you thought but you order groceries anyway. It always takes longer for him to get home than he says.

“Home.” You think. This isn’t home.

4:58 PM

Surprisingly on time, he arrives carrying handfuls of delivered bags.

“You bought groceries?” He uses his foot to close the door behind him.

“Yes,” you reply, removing bags from his hands. “Why don’t you have groceries? Just hire someone to do it.”

“Why hire someone when you’re willing to do it for me?”

“I didn’t,” you banter. “I hired someone to do it.” You shrug.

You close the refrigerator behind you. His phone starts to ring, he silences it.

“Where did you get champagne?” He questions.

When you casually mention the name of the woman who signed the card, he stiffens. Checks his phone, frantic.

“You talked to her?” He remains calm, but you can tell he’s uneasy.

“Yeah, I ran into her dropping this off on my way in. She’s sweet,” you string him along, feeling a little bratty “She said she wishes she could’ve seen you on your birthday.”

He gives you a long look and you hold his gaze.

“Liar!” he laughs, approaching you. His demeanor is calming, his smile relieves something in that “something is missing” category.

“How do you know her name?” He asks curiously.

You stall, not wanting to admit your resentful gesture.

“Oh there was a note, I must’ve misplaced it,” you say, appearing (hopefully-to-be) absent-minded.

He reaches a hand to peek in the trash can. Before he can, his phone rings again. He silences it immediately.

“Is that her?” You ask, casual, distracting.

He shifts uncomfortably but is honest. “We were going to meet up today. I cancelled.”

You tilt your head. “You said you didn’t have plans.”

“I didn’t,” he says plainly.

You hide a shy smile, briefly ducking your head. “And if I hadn’t invited myself over?” you tease.

“I’d be wishing you had.” He gets closer and a familiar electricity buzzes through you. He rests his hands too comfortably on your back, pulling you in, hugging you too tight, smelling your hair.

“I missed you,” He nuzzles his cheek to yours, brushing against you. The moves are slow, requainting.

His lips press against yours and you feel yourself slipping back into him. You try to shake off the feeling, remembering what you discussed on the phone.

“So, what do you want?”

He follows along, seemingly eager to take the edge off of these heavy feelings for a while too. He guides you back to the wall.

You can feel the undertones changing. His gaze darkens, your body being enclosed in his arms.

A hand moves to your bare neck, strokes the soft skin. Your heartbeat quickens. After some back and forth, you ultimately decided not to wear the collar. Not his to claim anymore, anyway. He silently acknowledges the absence of it and moves to your waist.

“It was very rude of you to throw away my things just because you’re jealous.”

“Not jealous,” you pout, and his lips drag against your neck. He bites down at your words causing you to gasp. He pins your hands above your head, against the wall while continuing work on your neck.

“Say it,” he chides. “Tell me how jealous you are that someone else can be good for me.���

Your blood boils, thinking of the woman at the door, condoms on the nightstand.

“And how many good girls do you have?” You query, calmly.

He squeezes your wrists above you. “Say it. And I'll tell you.”

You sigh heavily and give in. “Ok, I’m jealous, you admit.

He giggles between kisses on your skin. “I know.”

“So? How many?” Not giving in to his touch yet, still wanting to know.

He shrinks the grip on your wrists to one hand and uses the other to brush a finger against your lip.

“There are many girls who are good to me but I have only one good girl.”

He releases your wrists and your lips crash together, tongues passing sloppily. You drink each other in after months apart.

“Don’t move,” he instructs, and pulls away. You stand still, watching him disappear into the bedroom. He quickly reemerges with hands behind his back.

“Turn around,” he says, before he can make it all the way back to you.

Without hesitation, you turn and place both hands on the wall, bracing yourself. You feel his presence behind you and it all goes black. A silky fabric drapes over your eyes, a knot being tied just behind your head.

You reach behind yourself to grab at him. “What are you doing?!” The sudden darkness is startling, shocking.

He wraps arms tight around your body to still you.

“Shhh….,” he soothes. This is what I want.” A hand slides beneath the hem of your panties, circling fingers at your wet center, free arm holding you tight to his chest.

He raises his fingers to your lips, offering a taste of yourself.

When you release his fingers, he loosens his grasp on your body and grips a hand at the back of your neck. You straighten up on two feet.

“Walk,” he demands.

After walking a ways, your back hits the mattress.

You can’t see him but his hands are hot on your skin, traveling in unseen paths. You can hear your breath, loud. The quiet in the room is loud.

It’s dark, but the fear begins to fade. All other senses are heightened.

There is a sense of right with his hands on your skin again, lips on yours again, his scent filling your nostrils again, feeling his weight above you again.

He drags his tongue slowly down the center of your body, between your breasts, over your navel and fastens his mouth to your center making you squirm as he sucks below, arms hooked around your thighs.

He licks lovingly, skillfully, and pulls away too soon. He pulls you up by your arms and guides you to sit up.

“Show me what a good girl you are?” he whispers above you. The whisper is crystal clear, echoing in your ears.

You nod into the darkness and hear him removing clothes. Cock free, he pushes the tip to your lips and pushes in slow, to the back of your throat, holding himself there.

“No hands,” he warns. He slides out just as slowly and you do your best to control your gags.

He pushes in again, too quickly and deep. You pull away, coughing and trapping his shaft with your hand.

“No.” he pushes your hand away. He grabs your chin, prying your jaw open and pushes in again. Drool spills and tears moisten the fabric over your eyes. He grabs the back of your head and pushes it flush against his pelvis, no room for grabby hands.

You choke and back off of it, using both hands this time to remove it. You cough when he pulls out, a string of saliva still connecting you.

It’s been a while since you've done this but somehow, it’s more difficult because you can’t see.

“Bend Over,” he growls.

You turn over and feel the familiar caress over your cheek before he moves, muscle memory. He lays a hard smack and you moan, spine lighting up. You smile gleefully to yourself. A familiar warmth overtakes you.

“You’re out of practice,” he taunts, “Need to remember how to behave.”

Another hit, and you cry out again. Spanks, all the more exciting and titillating behind a blindfold.

“You want to give Daddy what he wants, you said?” you hear his voice from behind you.

You nod, zoned in on your lack of vision.

You don’t sense the next hit coming, it’s so much more intense. You’ve been punished for not using words. Without hesitation, they come spilling out.

“Yes, Daddy.”

This.

This was definitely missing. Not so much that you need to be punished but that you want to be tamed.

And no one does it like him.

He slides two fingers into you from behind. You moan and buck back, bouncing on his fingers.

He leans down to lap you, licking up from your pussy and his fingers up to your ass, prodding his tongue inside the tight muscle.

He moves away and you hear the click of a bottle. Cold lube spills over your exposed skin.

Two fingers still in your pussy, He gruffly pushes a third to your bum, pouring more lube with a free hand. He pushes to the webbing of his hand and holds it, giving you time to adjust.

“Good girl loves being filled up, huh?”

You nod before catching yourself. “Yes, Daddy.”

He adds a second finger inside, two in each opening now, scissoring and stretching you open.

You sob, everything feeling that much more intense and full in the dark.

He pulls his fingers out of your body with a lewd pop.

“Are you ready to try again?.”

“Yes.” Something clicks in your mind and has your body assuming the previous position.

The shock of the sensory change and overwhelming emotion before had you too frantic, unable to focus.

Now, bridled in just the right way, he pushes into your throat with no objections from your body, only eager acceptance.

He begins thrusting at the back of your throat. You relax your jaw and control your gags. The darkness isn’t so startling anymore. It helps you focus on controlling your muscles, a meditation almost. You grip the sheets to keep your hands away.

He pulls out and you try to even your desperate breath, swallowing pooled saliva.

He tests your compliance, pushing to the back again, using two hands to hold your head down, letting your face slide off silently.

“There she is,” he strokes your hair as you wipe your mouth. “There’s my good girl.”

The praise fuels you, feeling pleased and settled.

He turns you over again and slides inside right away, slapping hips against you. You whimper and move your body with his.

You nearly ascend when he pushes his index finger into your stretched ass while still thrusting inside.

His cock thrusts against your g spot and presses against his finger behind your walls.The repeated pressure on both sides makes your knees shake. The sound you make is almost primal, body falling limp, spiraling through an orgasm.

He frees his hands and pushes your shoulders flat to the bed to slam inside. You lay, boneless as he grunts and growls through his own orgasm.

Falling beside you, he removes the blindfold and gestures for you to lay on his chest.

He pets and strokes the places he’s left marks. He slides his thumb along your worked jaw.

You didn’t realize how badly you’ve missed this feeling of safe, being claimed again.

8:09 PM

Limbs draped together laying on the bed, Namjoon carries on about his most recent lyric-writing.

Words, spilling out a mile a minute, eyes focused outward, trying to find a lyrical solution by talking aloud.

You study him, just as you always had. The same ,familiar motions and conversation but a different background.

It’s unmistakable.

It’s not any particular location that’s “lived-in”. This place echoes with empty and still smells of fresh paint.

It’s the relationship, the vibes. You and Namjoon are lived-in.

His voice, his touch. You know it’s everything you need but know it won’t last. You broke up for a reason, a dark cloud lingering over your temporary reconnection.

You try not to think of it, letting this temporary elation carry you both to the point where you must eventually take stock of what’s happening and acknowledge that you’re worse together, no matter how good it feels right now.

Despite your silent spiral, he continues talking, unbothered. You watch him, endeared, absorbing every morsel of himself he has to offer before you part again.

Eventually, he catches himself. “Sorry, should I stop?”

You climb on top of him and snag the nearby blindfold. You playfully spread it over his mouth and a giggle erupts from underneath. You slide it up to his eyes, mimicking your position from earlier. He inhales sharply and smiles.

You take his earlobe into your mouth and suck marks to his collarbone, not caring of the consequences. He doesn’t stop you, hissing and grabbing at your hair.

You relish In taking him like this, the breakup, giving you freedom to reciprocate this notion and him, the freedom to surrender to it.

You lean down and graze your teeth over his nipples, a secret sensitive spot.

He gasps and lets out a whimper. It was beautiful. You chase it again, sucking and blowing cold air over them.

Still naked, you grasp the shaft and wrap your pussy over him, eyes rolling back at the pleasing friction.

You slide up and down, chasing the high.

He’s moaning in a way you’ve never heard, the intensity of not having vision.

Still above him, you plant a foot on the ground and slide his length inside of yourself.

Your hips move above him, slowly at first. You watch him, every pant and bead of sweat dripping. You get to see him in a way you couldn’t if he could see you back.

Soon, it feels too good, dick rocking right on your spot, fast and deep. He moves his hips faster below you, a signal to speed up.

You rock back and forth, squirming and squelching on his cock, feeling a little freer that he can’t see you, but only feel you so intensely.

He sinks and drags fingernails down your back with a hiss and a moan. He keeps his nails buried in your skin and holds your hips down.

“Fuck,” he pants as you pull the blindfold loose to see him come.

His hands grab yours and you use your laced hands to brace yourself, squeezing fingers tight when you both come.

It feels like an official reuniting, coming together again. Having more even ground this time, just experiencing this together.

Now, all is right again. Doubt, drowned just a bit longer.

11:51 PM

You’re in a marathon of a conversation, catching up on the last few months.

You laugh and talk and joke, just like old times. He grabs you by the waist.

He kisses you. Long and full of expectation.

“Just remind me why.” He exhales and pushes his forehead to yours.

“No, Joonie, we can’t do this_” You feel thorns grow on your skin and try to push away.

He doesn’t remember yet. This is a beaten path. As much as you missed the four walls you shared, by the end of it all, it was suffocating. Walls, closing in.

“Please,” he pleads. “Because i’m looking at you and we’re here talking and kissing and fucking, perfect as it always was and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why we’re not together.”

You shake your head as tears burn at your eyelids.

“No, Namjoon, we cannot have this fight again…” you try to free yourself again. There’s so much more to it all than sex and conversation.

“Who’s fighting?”

“You know why we’re not together,” you argue. It was bad for a long time. We fought and fought_…”

“Maybe we didn’t try hard enough,” he interrupts.

You look at him, shake your head.

“I did.” Tears falling freely now. “We can’t see each other anymore. It’s not fair. Not to either one of us.

You laugh to yourself. “We both knew it was a bad idea. We knew we’d end up right back here.”

“And where is that?” he asks, soft tears spilling from his sharp eyes.

You don’t answer. Just offer a weak smile as you quickly dress.

“Happy Birthday.”

And just like that, it’s all over, 2 strokes to midnight.

12:13 AM

You turn on the lights to “the” empty apartment and intentionally don’t look around. Any progress you had made at making the place feel like just yours are back at square one.

Your body is heavy with regret, can’t believe you let yourself drown in him again.

You crawl under the covers and wait for it to be just not so hard, back turned away from the side of the bed that feels so devastatingly empty.

2:30 AM

You stir awake from a noise at the door. The knock sounds again, waking you completely.

You sleepily drag yourself to the door.

There he stands, eyes swollen, looking lost and vulnerable.

You stare at each other in the doorway, unable to tell if there are a million unsaid things being spoken or just emotions spilling sloppily around with no rhyme or reason.

The same electricity fires inside. Even though you can’t remember what you said when you left.

The only thing you can remember right now is how right it is that he’s here. And how wrong it was when he was gone, and how empty his side of the bed is.

You extend your hand out, inviting him in. He looks for a long time and finally accepts. You shut the door behind him, locking you both back into those four walls.

[fernweh-writes]

You could ask my question, if possible, of course. With the Slachers (Michael, Jason, Brahms, Vincent and Bo) with her beloved looking innocent and even angelic, but she is extremely jealous and possessive when a victim or survivor flirts with her slachers to the point of saying something in context: " he is mine !!" (while the reader embraces Slachers). What would be the reaction of the slachers, about the corpotamento of his beloved?

I don’t write for Jason, sorry but I can definitely do the rest. Since I don’t write for many slashers, with requests like this one I usually do a little snippet for all of the slashers I do write for. But I like this idea a lot so without further ado…

P.S. this took me so much longer than I expected, I definitely got a little invested in these lol. I left out Thomas and Jesse but I may go back and add them at a later time idk yet.

-Fern🌿

Slashers x Possessive S/O

Michael Meyers

Your innocent and kind nature would be one of the things that made Michael interested in you. You were the first person to take the time to actually figure him out rather than checking him off as Evil™️ and treating him as such. He also likes the fact that he can easily make you flustered, it feeds his need for control. Knowing that he can simply press himself against you and leave you blushing both pleases and amuses him.

We all know that Michael is very possessive. He often stalks you while you’re at work or out in town running errands. At this point, it’s no longer because he feels the need to be predatory, he’s just making sure that what’s his is safe from any harm.

One night you had decided to go out with a few friends, which Michael wasn’t very excited about, but eventually he allowed it. It was one of those busy clubs/bars that had opened recently, so of course the place was crowded. This left Michael with no choice but to ditch the mask while he followed you, another thing he wasn’t happy about.

He ended up sitting on the other side of the place by himself with his eyes glued to you. He didn’t like you being around so many people. Michael was so focused on watching you that he had barely even noticed the woman walk up and make herself cozy in the seat opposite of him. Now his attention was on her while she grinned at him like the Cheshire Cat, pushing her cleavage together to make it more apparent in her already low cut dress.

Michael could’ve sworn that you had teleported, after all he had only take his eyes off of you for a second. Now you had your arms wrapped around him with your head resting on his neck. “Can we help you,” you asked the girl in front of you. Michael had never heard your voice sound so cold.

The girl began to twirl her hair, not deterred by the fact that you were running your hands over Michael. “I was just wondering what such a handsome man was doing here all by himself,” she purred. She attempted to reach forward and grab his hand but you were quick to smack it away before Michael could even move.

“He’s not here by himself he’s with me. And if I were you I would keep your hands to yourself and away from what’s mine.” After you said that it didn’t take long for Michael to drag you back home. To him it was your way of saying that you were in fact a permanent part of Michaels life. Plus you threatening someone when you’re usually so polite was a change of pace that left Michael wanting. You can definitely expect the girl to turn up missing on the news soon after that night as well.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms adored your innocence and kindness. You never hesitated to follow the rules and care for him, which is why he kept you around. After all he needs a nanny that is actually going to take care of him. Brahms also had an easy time revealing himself to you since after the initial shock of it all you were delighted to find out you weren’t being haunted and that you weren’t in a huge countryside mansion all by yourself.

Seeing as Brahms is a major introvert and goes absolutely feral if there’s someone new in his house that he hasn’t allowed you usually have nothing to worry about. However, suppose something happens where Malcolm has to leave for a few weeks, meaning that a new girl is assigned to deliver the groceries until Malcolm returns.

You were in the kitchen chopping up ingredients for lunch when she arrived for the first time. You had to admit that she was pretty, she was tall and athletic looking with perfect curls. It was hard for you to not notice that she was blonde, Brahms had a thing for blondes…

“So Malcolm told me that Brahms isn’t dead or a ghost, is that right?” You didn’t like the fact Malcolm had told this random girl about Brahms but you muttered in agreement anyways. She helped you put up the rest of the groceries in silence, not speaking again until she had opened the door to leave. “So is he hot? Usually people with this much money that aren’t old are always hot. If he is I might just have to stick around for a little while longer.”

That struck a nerve. “He’s not available,” you said sharply and she faltered. “What do you mean?” It was easy to tell she hadn’t expected that kind of answer, much less the attitude you had suddenly adopted. “He isn’t single. So although he is hot, trust me, I would know, you can’t have him. He’s mine.” She quickly apologized and left, slamming the door shut behind her. You could also hear Brahms moving around in the walls nearby, letting you know he must have heard everything.

Shortly after you found Brahms wrapped around you while you finished making lunch. “So now I’m yours hmm?” You could hear the amusement in his voice. You turned and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a kiss, one hand finding it’s way into his hair. After pulling away you told him, “You’ve always been mine Brahmsy. My good boy.” He let out a small whine at your praise, pulling you back in for another kiss.

Vincent Sinclair

You were Vincent’s muse. He absolutely adored you from the way you acted to the way you looked. To him there was no aspect of you that wasn’t perfect. In other words he was absolutely obsessed with you. After all, you did take care of him and even helped Bo keep Ambrose up and running.

It’s no secret that Vincent was shy, but he was definitely intimidating as well. So you knew that the girl in front of him that was doing a terrible job of flirting was only doing so in a poor attempt to make it out alive. Still, watching her twirl her hair and smile at him made something inside of you snap.

“Come on handsome, you got to want some kind of company. I’m sure you’re so lonely here all by yourself… I could help with that.” She attempted to touch his chest but you grabbed her before she could. “Sorry,” you told her as you held both of her arms behind her back, “he already has someone keeping his bed warm. Didn’t your mother ever to tell you not to touch things that belong to other people?”

Vincent made quick work of knocking the girl out and carrying her down to the workshop. However, after dwelling on the thought he decided to just let Lester dispose of her body. He didn’t want to make you angry by turning her into a permanent wax figure for the town. Doesn’t mean that he won’t allow her to regain consciousness before killing her though, after all she needs to know her place.

Later on Vincent will make sure you never forget that he is yours the same way that you’re his. You can probably expect to have some trouble moving around the next day as well.

Bo Sinclair

Everyone knows that Bo is a major flirt. He enjoys watching the girls throw themselves at him, he just blames it on his “southern charm.” Although, he usually keeps you safely tucked up into the house whenever victims stumble into town. After all, “I can’t have my sweet angel in harms way now, can I?”

You never dwelled on how Bo dealt with victims, that was his business. Sure he had flirted with you a lot when you first showed up. Even now he was heavy on flirting and making inappropriate comments all the time. It was one of the things that made him Bo after all. So walking into his shop unaware of the newest batch of victims in town was a shock for you. Well not so much the victim part, it was finding Bo flirting with the girl leaning over the counter to display her cleavage that pissed you off.

She was smiling and blushing like she had a high school crush on the man in front of her. Not to mention Bo was unashamedly staring at everything she was flaunting. So yeah you were pissed, especially since he didn’t even seem to notice you were there. You quickly remembered the lunch you were holding in your hand, your reason for coming down here, and decided to use it to your advantage.

Instead of saying anything you just walked up behind him, setting his lunch on the counter right in front of the girl, effectively blocking his view of her boobs before wrapping your arms around him. Bo still didn’t shut up and acknowledge you so you decided to interrupt. “I brought you lunch baby.” The use of a pet name quickly made the girl Bo was flirting with falter.

“Oh, uhm, is this your girlfriend or something?” Before Bo could jump in you answered her. “Or something, I guess you could say. After all, he is my husband.” You looked up at Bo with the most lovesick expression you could put on your face as you pulled him in for a kiss. One kiss turned to two, to three, to a whole make out session in front of the poor girl. Bo’s hands began to roam around your body as well, making sure to squeeze all of his favorite parts of you.

When the two of you broke apart the girl was gone but Bo didn’t seem to notice. He was still to busy feeling you up. “Have I ever told you how fuckin’ sexy you are when you’re jealous? I’d never have guessed you had a possessive side to you angel.” You smiled knowing you now had his full attention, “Well surprise.”

He kissed you one more time, long and hard. “I promise we’ll continue this later up at the house. But right now I gotta go find that bitch n’ kill ‘er. You better be waitin’ on me when I get home darlin’.”

Billy Loomis

Billy was highly sought after by many girls due to his bad boy reputation. He always had girls throwing themselves at him wanting to be the one to fix him. You knew you didn’t have to worry, Billy wouldn’t leave you for someone else. He made it very clear that you were permanent. But still you couldn’t help but be irritated when they would flirt with him right in front of you.

You two were planning a movie night which meant a trip down to the video store. Apparently, Randy had the night off because some new girl was behind the counter. When the two of you first arrived she had been reading a magazine, not caring about the handful of people milling about. That was until she noticed Billy, not seeming to care that you were wrapped around his arm. She was watching him like a hawk.

You shifted uncomfortably, not liking the way she was staring down your boyfriend. Billy was observant and quickly noticed your discomfort. “Don’t worry about her babe, you know you’re the only person I’m into.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, “Now, do you want to watch Friday the 13th or Nightmare on Elm Street?” You groaned, “Billy we’ve seen both of those movies a million times.” He smiled and held up Nightmare on Elm Street, “Well now we can watch this one and make it one million and one times.”

You rolled your eyes as he drug you to the checkout counter. The employee quickly perked up when she noticed Billy. “Will this be all for you hun?” She asked completely ignoring you. She didn’t even look down at what movie Billy had set on the counter before saying, “You have good taste, this is like one of my favorite movies ever. It’s a shame your little girlfriend doesn’t seem to like it though.”

“Cool, so who’s the main character?” You knew exactly what Billy was trying to do, elbowing him lightly. “Oh, uhm,” she finally looked down at the case, eyes lighting up, “oh, yeah it’s that really scarred dude!” Billy rolled his eyes, “No shit, what’s his name though.” You decided to have pity on the girl, “Ignore him, he’s a horror movie fanatic.” The girl mumbled, “Yeah no kidding.”

You smiled at Billy, using this as your chance to brag on the fact he’s yours. You knew him like no one else did. “He’s such a dork when it comes to the cinematography of these things but he’s my dork.” Billy hugged you from behind, “Yeah, whatever, you know you love me.”

Stu Macher

Stu absolutely loved throwing huge parties at his house. He was well liked and well known so it wasn’t unusual for a lot of people to show up, many of which you didn’t even know. Because so many people knew Stu, it also meant that they knew his family was pretty wealthy. It was pretty common to find girls hitting on him and since Stu loved attention he was prone to playfully flirting back.

Usually you would hang out with your friends during these parties, not being big on socializing with new people. Most of the time you didn’t worry about Stu wandering off, he would always show up at your side again at some point. Half the time when he would reappear you would have to pry him back off of you. He could be quite handsy at times.

Now the party was winding down and mostly everyone left was on the couch getting ready to watch a movie. You excused yourself, and headed to the kitchen to get another drink. You froze when you saw a girl running her hands all over Stu, he wasn’t making any move to push her away. You decided to help him out with that.

“Do you need something,” you asked her as Stu wrapped himself around you. “Are you his girlfriend?” Stu laughed, hopping up onto the counter. He pulled you up onto his lap, “Yeah she is dude. Isn’t she hot?” The girl scoffed, “Don’t you think that she’s a little… beneath you, Stu?”

That set you off. “I think that slutty little bitches like you need to keep your dirty hands away from what’s mine.” The girl rolled her eyes before storming out of the kitchen. You hopped out of Stu’s lap and turned to face him. “If you let mother whore rub all up on you like that again so help me I will be the next one to commit a murder in this house. Understand?” Stu stopped smiling, his goofy personality faltering for a second. He then saluted, “Yes ma’am.” You nodded. “Good.”

Stu jumped down and threw you over his shoulder, causing you to yelp. “You look extra hot when you’re fighting over me babe.” He quickly climbed the stairs and you pounded against his back. “You’re going the wrong way, the movie is downstairs.” He made it quickly to the bedroom, throwing you down on the king size bed with a huge grin. “We can make our own movie babe. I don’t know about you but I’m thinking romance,” he rambled, crawling on top of you. “Rated R of course.”

[mimi-cee-hq]

Laundry Days - Aran x f!reader

Summary: Three times you picked up his underwear and one time you missed doing it.

Genres, other tags: fluff, slice of life, humour, meet cute, domestic fluff, not suggestive lol, married under 25, neighbours to married lovers ;)

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: manga spoiler

This is for @neoheros & @coophi's 2021 Summer Haikyuu!! Writing contest. (Okay I'm pretty shy at first so it feels a little scary to tag you two but here's my piece.) I was going for the married under 25 prompt but ended up doing neighbours to lovers too. :D

Don't mind me spreading the underrated characters agenda as well. lol.

*****

A few articles of clothing spilled out of the dryer and onto your feet. Oops. Your neighbour must have forgotten them. You should've checked first.

Your own damp clothes sat inside the washing machine next to it, waiting for their turn to enter the dryer. It wasn't possible now.

You sighed, retrieving the phone from your pocket and scrolling until you saw the name of the neighbour who lived a floor below you.

Ojiro Aran.

You were sure this was the right person after a second look at your texting history. Who'd bring the garbage to the curb, where the lawnmower was kept, and keeping the duplex's stairway clear were some of the conversations you had with him.

You had yet to meet the guy, but he seemed amicable enough.

After shooting him a text, you thought to give him a call instead. Perhaps he'd think a phone call was strange. However, your clothes were damp and you shouldn't leave them for long. Was he even home?

You sighed. Crouched down, you returned the clothes on the floor back into the machine. A scarf, several socks, and a knit hat made their way back inside. But what was this?

Underwear. Men's underwear.

You scrunched your nose as you lifted it from the cold, tile floor. Was that a hole in it?

Click.

"Sorry I just saw your text!" a tall, dark-skinned man blurted out as soon as the door was unlocked.

"Oh! It's alright! I only texted you a few minutes ago!" you quickly explained, waving your hands in front of you.

You shouldn't have done that. The underwear was hanging from your hand.

"Ummm…" Aran scratched his cheek, eyes retreating from you.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" you spat out, tossing the incriminating object to him. "It just fell out of the dryer when I opened it so I went to pick it up!"

Once in his hands, he recognized it as the one with the seam coming undone. "I… umm… should probably have thrown this one out."

"Umm… yeah… you probably should." Those words slipped off your tongue before you could catch them.

"I- I guess I'll go now," Aran said hastily.

He shut the door.

You let out a breath. That was awkward. Heat continued to linger in your body and you weren't sure who was more embarrassed by the encounter.

Wait. His clothes were still in the dryer. Did you dare ask him back?

The door slowly creaked open and Aran peeked his head into the room.

"I forgot something, didn't I?" Aran sheepishly asked.

"Yeah." The corners of your mouth lifted into a smile. "Yeah, you did."

"I'm Aran by the way."

"Y/n."

You never thought this would be how you'd meet your future husband.

*****

The office chair in your apartment was a comfortable spot for folding clothes. The webcam caught your face as you chatted with Aran whose image filled the monitor.

You smiled. Your husband was winding down after a long day with the team and decided to check up on you.

"I'm alright," you told Aran. "I miss you though."

"I literally just saw you yesterday!" he said. "I miss you too."

After that fateful yet awkward encounter with him in that laundry room two years ago, you had run into each other more frequently at the front doors of your duplex. Your classes ended at similar times four out of your five school days. You were surprised he even started a conversation with you. You wouldn't have been able to bear the embarrassment. Fast forward to a confession, a kiss and a rock-embedded ring, and you got a small, snowy wedding during winter break.

It was back to the books for you now, and you dreaded it. Chores seemed much better, easier. Plus doing them for your newly-wedded husband? You got giddy about that.

You quirked your brow, lifting a familiar piece of clothing from the basket.

"Hey, I thought you threw this one out," you mentioned to Aran, dangling his underwear in front of the camera.

"I did! That's, uh, probably a different one."

"Just how old are these?"

"Hey! Wait a moment! Are you folding clothes?"

You avoided the eyes on the screen. "Maybe."

"You have your paper due in a few days! I told you I was going to do it after flying back home."

"I know…"

Aran's eyes narrowed at you, a trademark expression of his. "You're procrastinating again, aren't you?" His tone implied disapproval.

"But I'm still being productive!"

"Y/n…"

"Okay, okay. I'll stop." Your foot pushed the basket away, sliding it across the floor. Maybe you could fold them after you hung up.

Aran must have read your mind. "Show me what the laundry bin looks like."

You groaned. He saw right through you. Complying, you removed the clipped webcam off the monitor and directed it at the pile of unfolded clothes.

"It better be like that when I get home."

"Alright," you said with a pout.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

Must he stop you from doing chores? They were a simple reminder you were married to him, as if the gold on your finger wasn't enough to show you.

You were his wife.

A smile snuck into your lips whenever that thought crossed your mind. The honeymoon phase was a peculiar, strange, lovely stage.

Yet it was fleeting.

*****

You groaned as you stood in the middle of the bathroom. Aran's white track pants hung off the counter, the red t-shirt he got for free from first year college laid on top, and of course his underwear, which likely went through hundreds of washes, remained on the floor.

Great.

You rubbed your temples, your headache getting worse by the minute. It was Saturday morning, and Aran, who was nowhere to be seen, had left his mess behind.

I'll clean it up later, he would tell you. You knew his mother had spoiled him, always picking up after him. You understood why he was like this, but why couldn't he just start doing it now?

"Do you have this problem?" you asked your friend through your wireless headset.

"What problem?" she asked.

"Does your husband always leave laundry around on the floor?" You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Aran never picks up after himself."

She laughed. You weren't sure if it was because you were a young, amateur wife or if she understood all too well.

Knowing her, probably a bit of both.

"Okay two things."

You listened.

"One, don't say always or never. That's lying."

"I'm not lying," you snapped back at her. You began to regret asking her.

"Are you sure he never picks it up and always leaves it on the floor?"

You left no comment.

"Exactly."

"Okay fine, but that still doesn't solve the problem. If only he just did it, it would solve everything–"

"Number two," she interrupted.

You groaned at her and she gave an amused snort in return.

"If you weren't picking up his underwear, it means he's dead."

You were aghast.

"You know I'm right."

Still aghast.

"What? No husband, no mess."

"I can't believe I asked you for advice."

"But it's true."

"Ugh," was all you could utter. She had several years more of marriage experience than you, yet you didn't want to acknowledge it.

You hung up the phone after you finished deciding today's outing with her, but you hadn't addressed the issue in front of you. Your head throbbed again.

Sighing, you picked up the underwear.

A few minutes later, the front door opened and you dipped your head into the hallway. Aran shuffled grocery bags through the door and into the kitchen. He yawned, placing the milk, eggs, and other items into the fridge.

A familiar coffee brand peeked out of a bag on the floor. Right. You didn't have your coffee yet because there wasn't any left.

You wrapped your arms around Aran and relaxed against his broad back.

"I can't put the food away like this," he said with a chuckle.

"You left your clothes in the bathroom again."

"Oh shoot!" He dropped a bag and started towards the bathroom but you tightened your grip on him.

"I put them away already," you told him. His body relaxed and he caressed your arm around his waist.

The honeymoon phase was a fleeting phase, novel tasks turned mundane, but your love for him grew deeper still.

*****

Aran was away again, this time at Tokyo in preparation for the Olympics. He eagerly called you during breaks, wishing to see his favourite person – although your hands were full as well.

"I miss you," he told you, his smile displayed on the screen.

"And I miss picking up your underwear," you told him with a smirk.

Like clockwork, he narrowed his eyes at you with a comeback. "Why don't you say you miss me like a normal person?"

"Because I'm your wife. I'm special," you told him as he rolled his eyes. "I wish I could be there though."

"You wouldn't be able to spend that much time with me anyway," he said. "Besides, one of us needs to stay home."

"I know." You smiled.

"I gotta go," he said as Atsumu yelled in the background. Aran blew a kiss at you.

You snorted. How cheesy. You returned the kiss anyway.

Hearing a mischievous squeal behind you, you told him, "I gotta go too."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

After you hung up, you turned around and sighed. A soggy wet diaper sagged on the floor and the little guy jumping in the crib giggled at you as if he did the funniest thing in the world.

You rolled your eyes and smiled before picking up the diaper.

"Alright kid. Let's put a diaper back on you and wash your sheets."

*****

I hope you liked it. This is a little different from what I usually write but I hope you still enjoyed it!

I blame Aran's current concern for giving me this idea along with the person who suggested I write Aran fluff. (As well as the seasoned wife I know who told her husband, "If I wasn't picking up your underwear, it means you're dead." lolll.)

I hope you stick around my blog to check out my other works! My current work in progress is a fake dating Suna series. I can't believe we're on chapter 10!

If anyone is interested, I have a Google form for my taglist.

[obsessivelyloved]

Day 8: Trick

This isn't from any specific prompt list I made it up lol. This is based on @/yanderemommabean ‘s yandere purge au! She doesn’t mind people writing for the au and If you are 18 and older I definitely recommend checking out her blog! She writes great things and I love the stuff she and her followers come up with. However if you’re below 18, don’t check out her blog as she feels uncomfortable with minors following her and will block you.

Sorry for posting so late! I will try my best to catch up. Might make a part two, let me know what you think <3

____________________________________________________

Dear Whoever it may concern,

You have been chosen to participate in this year's Game. As every year, the rules are as follow:

1. Once the sirens have gone off, all help is offline until the 24 hours are up.

2. If you do not leave the hold of your assigned person(s) by the time the 24 hours are up, you cannot leave them.

3. You may harm your assigned person(s) but cannot kill them.

Any violation to these rules will result in investigation from law enforcement. Any questions you may have or would like to read more, please either call (xxx) xxx-xxxx or go to the website.

May you have a wonderful Game this year.

Your hands shake as you hold the paper, reading it over and over again. It doesn’t feel real. The words blur in your mind and you don’t see the paper.

“Oh shit,” you whisper. Tears prickle the corner of your eyes and you take a deep breath.

Two days. All you have is two days to prepare. It’s not enough time. You don’t have enough money to get out of this town, not when the price of plane tickets are no doubt sky rocketing right now as people try to get away. A sob leaves your throat and the dam behind your eyes breaks.

What are you supposed to do? Whoever’s after you could be anyone. It could be the mailman, the cashier at the grocery store, the lady who lives across the street. Anyone. And you have nowhere to go. Your best bet is to pack a bag and book it deep into the forest nearby. God knows who many people will have the same idea as you but hopefully whoever is “assigned” to you won’t guess you’ll be there.

You’ve never been inside, after all. Never even stepped within distance of it. It’s completely out of character for you and with this idea in mind, you crumble the stupid paper and slam it down on your kitchen table.

* * * * * * * *

Your friends find you, the next day, frantically shoving clothes and supplies into a duffel bag. You never hear them come in, never hear their footsteps pause in the kitchen as they no doubt see and read the official paper you got in the mail.

However you do hear your bedroom door hesitantly open and you scream, wielding the kitchen knife you left on your dresser, “The alarms haven’t sounded yet, I will stab you don’t fucking test me!”

Your door slams open, revealing your disheveled state to your friends as they jump back. Your brain takes in the colors of their hoodies and you slump down in relief. Setting the knife back down on the dresser, you go back to yanking things out of your duffel bag and replacing.

“Sorry, you guys scared the shit out of me.”

For a long moment, it’s quiet.

“What’s going on?” Matt asks. He shuffles into your room and the others follow.

You almost don’t want to say the words out loud. It feels damning to finally acknowledge the reality of your situation.

“Got chosen for the game. I need to….” You take a deep breath. “I need to get far away from here.”

“And where will you go?” Tord asks.

You shrug. “Thinkin’ the forrest. Remember that little tree house we built as kids? I’m pretty sure it’s still there. It’s pretty high up so it’s a good place to hunker down until this is all over.”

You don’t want to look at their faces. Any reminder of what tomorrow is makes you want to scream and cry so you try your best not to think about why you’re packing this duffel bag.

A hand rests on your shoulder, thumb gently rubbing circles.

“You could stay with us,” Edd says solemnly. “We’d gladly hide you from whoever is… after you.”

“I couldn’t do that to you guys. I can’t. I don’t want to watch you guys get hurt.”

“We won’t!” Matt protests. “We’re like, super strong. Right guys?”

You can almost hear the way Tord pats Matt’s shoulder and he does tell Matt, “Sure, pretty boy. You tell yourself that.” and to you, “Thomas and I for sure can defend ourselves. You don’t need to worry about anyone hurting us. We promise we’ll protect you.”

Tears fall down your face again and Edd spins you around to crush you in his arms.

“Shhh, it’s okay to be scared. Just come with us. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

You sniffle and pull away, heart wrenching at the hopeful look on Edd’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, it couldn’t hurt. I um, I need to finish packing.”

Each of them gives you a grin, Tom finally speaking up to say, “Take your time, okay? We’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

They leave your bedroom. None of them turn as they hear you breakdown crying again, very obviously trying to stop yourself. It’s the polite thing to do after all.

And with them out of your sight, you never see them give each other triumphant grins. You’d never even think that they’d do that either. Or think about them taking in your home as they do now, taking note of things to move and come back for. Why would you? They’re your friends. You trust them.