#thank you everyone for your patience truly

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 34

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Postpartum depression; allusions to child abuse; perceived child abuse - read with care

A/N: I am so sorry it has taken me this long! The move has really done a number on my mental health and I've been struggling to write anything substantial. I've taken some serious liberties with Georgia weather. If you noticed, no you didn't. Lol I don't hate Rick. His mindset isn't the greatest at this point. We know that. Just making sure everyone is aware that I love our deputy. Post partum depression is a real thing and it sucks. This chapter has some really angsty, dark tones, and should be read with care, especially toward the end (beginning at “Oh,hey.” She greeted, patting the ground next to her). I did lots of research and sadly, what transpires is a real thing that people do for reasons that aren't necessary. Please try to give Carol and reader some grace given the circumstances. But if you're sensitive to anything dealing with making a child uncomfortable, you might want to skip this. It gets a little heavy. I would be happy to give you a summary of what is happening if you would rather skip the last few paragraphs (see above where to stop reading). Just message me.

I love you all! Thank you for your patience with me.

gif is not mine - from google

You weren’t sure when it happened, when the switch flipped or the dial turned. All you knew is that every single time your daughter cried, you wanted to break down and sob with her. When you held her to your breast, you couldn’t look at her. You left her with Lori or Carol more and more, the looks they gave you annoyingly understanding. When you would hand her off to Daryl and walk away, you couldn’t bear to see that expression of befuddled dismalness. 

“Postpartum depression.” Carol finally said one bitterly cold morning. She was changing Birdie with swift movements, eager to shield her from the drafty atmosphere of the warehouse. 

You had your back to her—your face in your hands—while you silently cried, two small bottles of breast milk sitting at your feet, still attached to the manual pumps. Sniffling, you glanced over your shoulder just as she placed the shifting blanketed bundle against her shoulder. “I hate my baby, Carol.” You whimpered. “That’s more than depression.”

The silver-haired lady shook her head. “Honey, I promise you don’t hate her.” 

“I don’t want anything to do with her.” You bit back with more vexation than you had intended. “I can’t stand it when she cries. I just want Daryl to keep her away from me.” When she tilted her lips with that gentle smile, it took all you had not to chuck one of the bottles at her. What was wrong with you? Could she be right? Were you depressed?

“I went through this, sweetheart. It will pass.” When she offered you little Birdie, you reeled. “You can’t keep avoiding her.” She was right and you hated it. With a huffing breath, you accepted your daughter, distributing her small weight across your arm for her head to rest in the crook of your elbow. “I have an idea.”

You heaved a sigh, not really interested in whatever it was that Carol was going to suggest. You had to stop taking your frustrations out on the woman. And Lori. And Daryl. And especially little Birdie. She was perfect and you knew in your heart of hearts that you could never truly harbor anything other than unrelenting love for her. Yes. Carol was right. You were definitely depressed. 

“What?” You finally queried. 

“What’re you two doin’ in here?” You heard Daryl’s boots crossing the concrete floor until they stopped just behind you. His lips pressed gently against the crown of your head. “Hey.” You said nothing. So much for not taking things out on your fiancé. 

“Daryl, right on time.” Carol beamed. 

“For what?” The confusion was evident in his tone.

“Y/N pumped some milk for the baby. It won’t keep unless we get more snow and can store it in the drifts.” She informed. “Why don’t you feed the baby?”

“Feed ‘er? Like with a bottle?”

“Unless you’re miraculously lactating, yes. With a bottle.” There was a hint of jocularity in her tone. You could almost feel his glare without turning. 

“I mean—yeah, okay.” Annoyance momentarily forgotten, you focused on the uncertainty in your partner’s voice. You didn’t miss the tremble. Neither did Carol. 

“You’re gonna be fine, Daryl.” She said encouragingly. 

“Ain’t me m’worried ‘bout.” The archer mumbled as he circled around you. He was hesitant in reaching for Birdie, but took her into his arms immediately when you sat up straighter and shifted her. The movement must have upset your daughter, her little limbs flailing as Daryl positioned her in the bend of his arm. “Ain’t no need for all that fussin’, lil Bird. You’re gonna get fed.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “By somebody. May not be me after I screw this up.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re better with her than you give yourself credit for.” It came out flat and harsh, your default setting as of late. Still, one look at the expression that decorated Daryl’s features, you found yourself ashamed. “You’re a great father.” You added, softer and with sincerity. 

Daryl held your gaze and, for a moment,—for the first time in a long time—it was uncomfortable. When he nodded and turned to Carol, you were able to exhale, though your stomach remained in knots. 

“Gimme the thing, I guess.” He held out a hand and looked down at his daughter, her little face reddening. Her mouth opened with the slightest squeak. She was two seconds from shrieking. “Keep your diaper on, lil’ girl. It’s comin’.” Daryl gingerly bounced his arm, Birdie’s features smoothing out for a moment, just long enough for Carol to hand over the bottle. 

You found yourself leaning forward, biting your lip as if ready to spring into applause when he accomplished the “impossible” task. When you caught his gaze, both of you looking up at the same time, you sat back and cleared your throat. When had things become so awkward between the two of you? It was almost unbearable. 

“Tilt her up just a little.” Carol instructed. “Touch the nipple to her lip, she’ll—there you go.”

You heard the soft snort of Daryl’s laugh and let your eyes travel from Birdie—now happily suckling away at the bottle—to your fiance. His eyes were soft but excited, sparkling in a way you’d never before seen. His lips were tilted upward, only the slightest fraction. Smiling suited him. You wished he’d do it more often. 

“Told ya that ya wasn’t gonna starve. Slow down. Ain’t no one gonna take it away.” He babbled, scrunching his nose with that smile still adorned. Was he even aware that he was lowering himself to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of you? You didn’t think so. At that moment, no one else existed to him; just a father and his little bird. 

You only felt the smile on your own face when you looked over to find Carol watching not Daryl and Birdie but you. With a soft, knowing expression, she mouthed see? And see, you did. You nodded, tears stinging behind your eyes. The room was silent aside from Birdie’s gulps and breaths and squeaks, and for moment, you thought:

Everything’s gonna be just fine.

If only you knew just how wrong you were.

“We can’t have her crying like this!” Rick was swiping a hand roughly over his tired face, looking haggard. Things between him and Lori were not improving. They seemed to only be worsening. Even Daryl had called out the deputy’s behavior once or twice in the last two weeks. The archer was currently glaring daggers while he rubbed a fingerless-gloved hand over Birdie’s back through the sling that held her to your chest. 

The loss of the warehouse had been tough on everyone, but you and your baby were affected the most. Your mood swings were only growing worse, though less and less toward the little one in your arms and more toward the adults that were only trying to help you. In turn, Birdie remained in a constant state of inconsolable. Hershel had thrown around words like colic and had Daryl dosing out gas drops to the little one but nothing seemed to soothe her.

The cars had run out of gas, as well as Daryl’s bike. The archer had pushed the motorcycle along for a time before he declared that he couldn’t protect Birdie if he was too busy hauling a damn bike. He had hidden it under some brush, easy to be tracked back to later. It was Merle’s bike and you knew what it meant to him. However, Birdie meant more. Much, much more and he would crawl into hell and back for the little girl strapped to your front.

“She’s a baby, man. How else she s’posed to let us know she’s needin’ something?” Daryl snapped, his voice intentionally higher to be heard over your daughter’s cries. 

“Daryl, you know this isn’t safe! She’s gonna bring every walker for miles down on us!” Rick threw out an arm, gesturing broadly. “Or—or the living! You saw what they would do!”

“Ain’t much we can do! She ain’t hungry! She ain’t needin’ changed! She’s just pissed off an’ I ain’t far away from bein’ right there with ‘er!”

“Boys.” Lori admonished, squeezing your shoulder. When had you started to tremble? “All this negative energy isn’t helping.”

“She’s right.” Hershel agreed, adjusting his gloves. “Babies are incredibly intuitive.”

“We just need to find fuel—cars.” Rick sniffed, hands on his hips. “We’re sitting ducks like this.” His eyes met Daryl’s in a heated challenge.

After an intense staredown, it was surprisingly Daryl who backed down first but not without a menacing growl. Turning to place his body between you and Rick, he brushed his bare fingertips over Birdie’s hooded head and then across your jaw. “Y’want me to take ‘er for a bit?”

You shook your head even as the temptation beckoned you to acquiesce. “I don’t think jostling her would help right now.” A single tear trailed down your cheek. As much as it pained you to admit, Rick was right, but how could you coax your baby to stop her noises of discomfort when you had no idea what was ailing her? Daryl used his thumb to swipe away the moisture, his expression equal parts distress and sadness. He clearly felt as helpless as you did.

“S’take a break.” He said suddenly, ushering you to a nearby log. Lori was immediately lowering herself beside you with a great deal of difficulty given her round belly. You could sympathize with her struggle, having been there not so long ago yourself. Her hand came to rest on the back of your head with loving strokes meant to soothe your nerves.

“I think that’s a great idea.” She agreed, offering you a gentle smile when you searched out her gaze. After a moment, you nodded and began to remove Birdie from her sling. Carol appeared with an extra blanket to cover you and shield the baby from the cold as you tried to nurse her. Daryl was hovering, shifting from foot to foot with his fingers digging into the strap of his crossbow. As much as you loved the man, his nervous energy wasn’t helping things in the slightest. 

“Why don’t you go hunting?” You suggested, reveling in the relief when Birdie quickly latched and her wailing ceased. Her little hiccups around enthusiastic gulps remained heartbreaking. The past few days had seen you begin to settle though the fraying of your nerves lingered. At least you were now aware of how much you loved your daughter and that you wouldn’t change a single moment that brought her barreling into your life. 

Daryl quickly shook his head in refusal, his already white-knuckled grip on that strap growing impossibly tighter. “Can’t leave ya here like this.”

You bit back the urge to yell at him, make the demand that he go. He meant well. “Please?” He wrestled with indecision, his expression damn near crumbling before he skillfully schooled it with a sigh.

“Fine.” He huffed at the same time that he took a single step toward you. He seemed to think better of it and turned on a heel while stripping his weapon from his back. “Be back in a hour an’ we can move on.” You knew as well as he did that there was little to no game to satisfy the group’s hunger. He was only trying to placate you. The two of you needed time alone, needed to talk and work through the tension between you. 

With an inward sigh, you watched him disappear into the trees and shushed Birdie when she released your nipple and began to squirm and fuss. 

“So,” Lori began, “am I looking at the future Mrs. Dixon?” Her question caught you off guard, your eyes shooting wide even as you stared straight ahead. Only when she tapped the back of her hand against your arm did you acknowledge her and her request to take Birdie. Passing the baby off, you adjust your clothing and draped the extra blanket over your daughter.

“How did you—”

“He asked my advice.” Lori carefully arranged Birdie against the front of her shoulder, alternating between patting and rubbing the little one’s back. Tiny grunts and squeaks sounded from beneath the blanket, an audible passing of gas following close behind. The experienced mother turned toward where Hershel had sat to rest as well. “Maybe a touch of colic?” There was that word again. 

The older man hummed. “Could be. I’ll fetch the drops.” You felt bad watching him struggle to his feet from the forest floor, but couldn’t be persuaded to do so yourself. You were just too damn tired.

“What is colic?” You asked, your brow drawing inward. It was obviously not a danger to your baby, given Hershel’s lack of serious concern, but if something was hurting her, it was hurting you. The very thought of her pain had tears springing to your eyes.

“It just means that she’s uncomfortable. It might be the lack of protein in your diet. It could be gas. There’s no real explanation. She’s just—not feeling well. It’s nothing to worry about except she won’t be easily soothed for a while.” Her lips thinned into a sad smile. “It’s nothing and a lot all at once.”

“I’ll take her.” Carol offered whilst petting your hair as Lori had just a few moments prior. Extricating Birdie from Lori’s arms, she bounced the infant tenderly against her chest. “Y/N, will you come find me once you’ve finished up here?” Sporting a questioning look, you still nodded and watched her walk away after returning the gesture.

“He asked your advice?” You stared toward the empty space of Carol’s retreat for a moment longer before turning your attention to Lori. This time, her smile was genuine if not cheeky. 

“He did.”

“Hey—Hey, uh, can I ask ya somethin’?” 

She hadn’t really noticed Daryl approaching but that wasn’t surprising. He was a hunter and stealth was something in which he excelled. Lori paused in her stirring and tapped the spoon on the side of the kettle. The beans had yet to even begin to heat over the small fire inside the house, so she had a few minutes to spare.

“Of course.”

Daryl had changed so much over the course of the months he had been with the group, and she had you to thank for such a large part of that. And now, she had little Birdie to thank as well. The man was going to make an excellent father, despite his lack of confidence.Though she knew so little, she was aware he wrestled with unnamed demons, but you were there to help see him through it. He would be just fine. All three of you would.

“I, uh—well—” The archer rubbed at the back of his neck, something she noticed he did when he was uncomfortable. “Ain’t good at any’a this shit, so m’just gonna say it.” Lori raised her eyebrows when he paused to chew intently on the side of his thumb. “Wanna ask Y/N to, y’know—to marry me.” Her first instinct was to cheer, to celebrate his commitment, but thoughts of Rick—of Shane—trampled any immediate joy and ushered in skepticism. “You’re sure?”

Daryl scoffed. “Course m’sure! Lookit what she went through—what she just did for me. Why wouldn’t I wanna make ‘er my wife?” The confusion—the utter exasperation—on his face gave her pause but she continued.

“But do you love her?” She asked. Daryl wiped a hand down his face, ending with running the length of his index finger across his bottom lip. “It’s not a hard question, Daryl. Do you love her?” She didn’t realize—or maybe she did—how difficult it was for the man to admit something that deep to anyone but you. She wasn’t aware that he had said it before, had said it in the van, in the presence of the Greene’s and Carol, but whether or not they had heard was not something he had bothered to care about during that pivotal moment. 

Finally, Daryl sighed, his voice quiet. “I love ‘er. Yeah.”

Lori felt something in her chest release, a strong sense of relief and—if she were being honest—jealousy overwhelming her senses, making it impossible to speak for a moment. Gathering her bearings, she nodded and turned back to the pot, picking up the spoon to begin stirring. “Then you just ask her.” She sniffed, tilting her head just so in order to hide her tears from him. She was happy for you, compellingly so, but there was no denying the sadness that weighed on her own heart. Still, this wasn’t about her. This was about you—her friend. “Don’t rehearse lines or try to make it perfect. You just ask her. On the spot and from the heart.”

She heard the quiet hum from the side. It was the most straightforward form of acceptance toward her answer that she was bound to get from him. As his bootfalls receded into whispers on far away hardwood, she smiled.

Try or not, he was going to make it something that would mean the world to you.

You wiped away a tear and sniffled, consumed with a fresh wave of guilt for how you had been treating him as of late. He was handling your mood swings with grace, never lashing out, even if you did see him bite his tongue on more than one occasion. He had every right. Hormones or not, he deserved better than what you had been giving him.

“Thanks.” You whispered.

“So?”

You sniffled a second time, wiping at both of your eyes. “So what?”

Lori chuckled, her hands on either side of her belly. “Did you say yes?” 

You smiled and shook your head, recalling the moment to the forefront of your mind—hearing his tone, summoning the myriad of emotions you had experienced. It really was a Daryl Dixon proposal and it couldn’t have been more perfect. “I said yes.” You gave an indignant oomf as you were pulled against Lori, her arms squeezing as tightly as they could manage. “Wait, wait, wait.” You laughed, patting her back in an effort to coerce her into releasing her hold. When she let go, you sat back, expression light. “We’re keeping it quiet for now, making it official later.”

“Why?”

You shrugged. “A lot can happen in a short amount of time. He could change his mind.” Especially with these fucking mood changes. 

“You’re right.” She agreed. You shot her a look, almost as if you had been expecting her to disagree with you. “ A lot can change. We don’t know what’s going to happen even in the next few minutes.” She paused. “Who we might lose.” Leaning forward, she cupped your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Think about it.” You studied her for a moment, the sadness and apprehension radiating from your friend and forming a veil over you that was almost smothering. You nodded. “Good. Now go see what Carol wants. I think I need a nap.” She gave you an encouraging smile and didn’t move as you stood, looking over your shoulder at her before you disappeared to find the other woman and your daughter.

It wasn’t hard to do. Not at all. You just followed the loud exclamations of a disgruntled infant. As you approached, you could tell your daughter had just been given a fresh diaper and was in the process of being swaddled. The cold, flat ground beneath her couldn’t have been helping things. The weather was warming but at a slow rate Regardless, you had no idea what was coming next: what Carol would share with you and the disaster that would follow.

“Oh, hey.” She greeted, patting the ground next to her. The lack of her usual gentle tone and welcoming smile were your first clues that something was amiss. She sighed heavily, not meeting your eyes once you were cross-legged at her side. Her hand was splayed over the top of the blanket, gently rubbing circles over Birdie’s belly. “There’s something I want to tell you—advice, if I can even call it that.” She said solemnly. You weren’t sure where her thoughts were at that moment but it was somewhere dark, somewhere in a place she had deserted since the deaths of Ed and Sophia.

“What is it?” You needlessly adjusted the knit hat on Birdie’s head; pulled the hood of the tiny jumpsuit more snug around her little round face.

“Babies cry, Y/N. It’s how they tell us when they need something. It’s the only way they can tell us.” Why was she schooling you on something you had already learned? And in such a monotonous fashion? “I don’t want Rick to be right but there are dangers and few options if a herd follows the noise.” She sighed heavily, her shoulders held slumped under an invisible weight. “I don’t like it but it’s fact.”

“I know that, Carol.” 

“It’s just—” When you looked away from the baby, your gaze was immediately drawn to the lone tear straying from her closed eyes. “When Sophia was born, she was—she was such a quiet baby.” Her words came so softly, so full of melancholic nostalgia that you felt your own heart clench. Then, when her eyes opened, they were hard, her expression stern and twisted. “He gave me a break. Ed.” She didn’t even need to say his name. You knew. “A couple of weeks before the—old habits came back. The bruises, the screaming.” She was trembling, her hand leaving Birdie to curl into a fist on top of her knee.

“Carol, we don’t have to—”

“Sophia felt it.” She nodded, staring off to nowhere in particular. “That energy—she began to cry, she was so unsettled. Ed didn’t like it. Shut her up or I will, he would say.” She bent forward, her face crumbling as her hand slid up to twist into the front of her jacket. “I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t know how else to keep her safe.”

You waited her out, terrified of what she was about to tell you. When you said nothing, she inhaled deeply and released her hold on the coat, stroking the back of a knuckle over Birdie’s cheek.

“Y/N, I am going to show you something. I only ask that you please try not to think less of me.” Your mouth was moving but no sound emerging, your wide eyes watching her lean over your daughter, shushing the discontented cries. “I would never hurt your daughter, just as I would have never hurt my own.” Before you could speak, she was pinching Birdie’s little nose with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. The crying ceased but the flailing did not, her little limbs jerking.

“Carol!” You threw yourself forward and snatched her wrists, pulling them away from your daughter, throwing the other woman off balance and onto her hip. Carol caught herself, her palm shoving toward you in a desperate gesture for you to calm down. “What the fu—”

“Look!” She pleaded, her head jerking toward the now silent baby.

Birdie was still, her tiny blue eyes open and searching, stunned. She wasn’t crying, not at that moment. Your jaw was agape, your mind warring between anger and bewilderment; between betrayal and understanding.

“You only do it for a moment, not long enough to cause any harm.” Carol sat up, tears flowing down her cheeks, unchecked. “I couldn’t let Sophia cry. I did what I had to do.” She shook her head adamantly, her eyes closed tightly as if she were trying to jar the unpleasant memories loose and out of her mind. “I don’t regret it. I don’t. She was safe from him.”

“I don’t—Carol, I can’t do that.” You were crying openly now, picturing yourself denying your daughter precious breath. Even just one attempt would break you, split you open from the inside out.

“I’m not telling you that you have to, but Y/N,” she paused, gathering herself back up onto her knees at your side. She intentionally kept space between the two of you. “Rick—he’s trying to keep us safe. You saw what those monsters were going to do to her. You’ve seen what walkers can and will do. Just until we find a car. Until—”

Your face was in your hands now, Birdie’s crying having picked back up. “What if I—”

“Only a moment, Y/N. She will catch her breath. Eventually, it—it trains her.” Carol hesitantly touched your shoulder, and you broke, bowing over your little one with open sobs. Your body trembled from the force of your crying, any sound muffled by the blanket pressing into your face. “I’m so sorry. I just want her to be safe. I want her to have a chance.”

The two of you stayed that way for an uncertain amount of time, long enough for your sobs to drain away into hiccups and whimpers. Sitting up, you roughly wiped at your face, red and puffy eyes frozen on your screaming baby. How could you do what she was suggesting? How? What would Daryl think? “I need to talk to Daryl.”

Carol nodded, but her expression screamed uncertainty. “Maybe you should show him.” She suggested. “He can see that it’s not hurting her.”

“The man wouldn’t even wipe her ass because he was afraid of hurting her, Carol.”

“You’re right. Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have—I’m so sorry.”

She felt ashamed. You could see it all over her; her face, the way she began to curl in on herself. She was ashamed of something she was forced to do to keep her baby girl safe. And then she had lost Sophia. It was clear that Carol wasn’t proud of the way she had to ensure her child’s safety. It wasn’t a hack you go around bragging about at neighborhood get-togethers. It was survival.

“Show me what to do.”

Expression grim, Carol moved closer and instructed. The actions were so simple. It was the very idea itself that was so impossibly difficult. Pinching Birdie’s little nose, the baby gasped wetly through her mouth just as your hand was coming down to cover it. Your heart was seizing, vibrating painfully in your chest. Just as your fingertips touched her cheek—

“What the fuck are you doin’?!”

Daryl.

[strwberrytae]

Beyond Desire | 05

→ pairing: taehyung x reader → rating: 18+ only - m for mature - sexual and graphic content → genre: drama / romance → words: 9.9k → disclaimer/trigger warning: this is a piece of fiction based off of the fifty shades of grey series. this is not a parody. there are mentions of strong dominant and submissive lifestyles based on research and personal experience. there are also various psychological issues that are addressed throughout the series; including anxiety, self-destruction, blood, bruises, panic attacks, childhood abuse, non-consensual sexual acts and self-harm. this is a work of fiction and not to be taken as a promotion of the series, fifty shades of grey. this is an original piece of work. edit is created by me. enjoy! feedback is greatly appreciated.

→ a/n: thank you everyone for their patience! so much! I started this series years ago with the intent to continue it. life and lack of motivation got in the way, but it's made it's way back into fruition! this was frantically edited multiple times, though there still may be some errors. I hope you enjoy!

→ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 [series in progress - must read previous chapters]

→ summary: it’s never easy falling for your best friend when you have so much history. it’s especially difficult when you both share the same sexual desires and lifestyle. taehyung is a dominant CEO of a well known company in Seoul and you are an up and coming editor. while both of you come from a troubled and dark past, you lean on each other for support and comfort. what happens as your feelings blossom and grow over the years? what happens when you fear Taehyung may be falling in love with someone else? will you confess your feelings or remain in the shadows?

The next morning, Joon Jae awoke at 6am as you realized he did every morning for work. You laid in his bed, so tired but awake. Your restless mind forbade you to sleep peacefully throughout the night. It was unclear how you felt, truly. Such an interesting feeling. 

All you knew is that you were stuck with the familiar dread of emptiness that you had experienced many times before. It felt as if you became a vessel overnight yet again whenever you've done this; letting men completely take over and dominate you in ways against your wishes as if it's perfectly normal. Not to say that’s what the BDSM lifestyle entails. In the past, you’ve had a bad run of Doms who didn’t truly grasp the concept of consent. Men who think they're dominant, on the contrary, they're just abusers. Looks like Joon Jae is just another one. The only thing to do now is play along until you figure out how to escape this - safely.

Joon Jae emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his damp, onyx hair with a towel and a satisfied smile on his face. 

“Morning gorgeous,” he greeted with his award winning smile. The term of endearment felt everything but. The word curdling in your ears. Turning over to face him, you put on a face as well as you always could; as if you hadn’t been utterly violated by this man the night before. 

“Good morning, sir,” you purred sleepily. The bitterness coated your tongue as the words came out. Whether or  not he caught on was not clear - most of them didn’t. As Joon Jae walked over to his black wooden dresser, you continued to lay on your side. Something caught your interest in the corner of your eye. Your gaze fell to your wrists. The handcuffs.

Upon your wrists were bruises from last night; a deep red color fresh in hue. It would certainly darken to purple throughout the day. You began to nibble on your bottom lip as you nervously checked under the blankets for more markings. Peppered on your hips remained fingerprints. They were not markings you were proud of - not like this. Bruises from the right person made you feel empowered, cherished. This was abuse of power - hatred. Your loathing for them grew rapidly; even though they've only just became a part of you.

“Why are you so quiet? Did I wear you out that much?” Nonchalantly, you place the cover back down as if you were only fixing it. Turning your head to face Joon Jae, he pulled on his boxers with an idiotic smirk on his face. His form was still beautiful, yet you were so disgusted by him now. Your eyes couldn’t help but to wander over his body; inspecting him. There was nothing - not a bruise or scratch. Here you lay in his bed completely marked and emotionally wounded by him and he gets to go to work without having to hide a single thing. Typical.

Letting out a big sigh, you sat up in the bed; making sure to cover your body with his gray silk sheets. Ever so slowly do you run your fingers through your hair and gracefully lick your lips to look as innocently seductive as possible. It was time to put on a show, and you were used to this performance. A sly smirk stretched on your face as your eyes became softer. After all, you still have some dignity left. That is something he can’t rob from you.

“And here I thought a little mystery to a woman was appealing. Does my silence bother you, sir?” Your voice slithered with seduction; hoping your little innuendo granted you his kindness with your performance. Joon Jae was a man after all, and you knew how to handle his type - call him Sir, Master. Obey, say please, submit. No matter what, or else. This was a man that got off feeling like he was the greatest thing on this Earth. A man who loved knowing that his submissive was actually afraid of him, displeasing him. To you? He’s the most disgusting person you have ever met. 

The dark haired man sauntered over to you, grabbing hold of your chin with his index finger and thumb. A soft yet firm gesture to make you look up at him without protest, yet it felt so putrid.

“Was that sarcasm in your voice that you heard,” he questioned in a quiet tone. And there it is. His lips were barely moving as he spoke; an indication telling you that he didn’t find your comment too cute after all. You subdued your flirtatious attitude and retreated back to what you knew best - submission.

“No sir,” you whispered in a soft voice. He hesitated before letting you go. After a moment of cringing silence, a smile appeared on his face as if he was just messing with you. Using fear to make you submit, and then flipping a switch - how sadistic.

“Good girl. Get up and get dressed. I’ll drop you off at work.” Fighting back every morsel inside of you, you swallowed your pride to obey. You need to come up with a plan when you’re in a safer place. As such, you responded as you always do, following his instructions with a charming smile on your face. 

Just as you suspected, the extra dress you brought with you came in handy as you anticipated staying the night. Your naked reflection in the mirror sent chills down your spine. Bruises peppered your skin with revulsion brewing inside of you . There were bags under your eyes as lack of sleep dragged them down. To put it mildly, you looked like hell. No matter how many times you've seen this sight from past failed relationships, the pain you felt in your heart still aches at the same intensity. You’re yearning for love grows more desperate. For real love.

A week’s time flew by as an absolute blur. To say you had quarantined yourself was an understatement - scared to face the world in your vulnerable state. You had completely submerged yourself into full submissive mode. It was all you could do to survive. The fear of what Joon Jae would do to you had clouded your mind as your dark thoughts took over. No matter how hard you tried to think of ways to part ways with him without retaliation, it was useless. There was a desperation coursing through you to reach out to Taehyung. No, you couldn’t. He would drop everything to aid you - fix the problem. It would be a burden. Instead, you carried on with your week as usual. 

Dealing with Taehyung was easy. Whenever he asked to see you for lunch, you were busy in meetings. Important meetings with clients were underway thanks to Jisoo making you as booked as possible per your request. Taehyung knows how dedicated you are to your work, and he has all eyes on any projects you’re working on. Nothing out of the ordinary for the new Commissioning Editor, right?

In all honesty, you were legitimately busy besides the tedious work you’ve added to your pile. Your contract with GQ Korea Magazine, Joon Jae’s magazine, was reaching its end which means long hours, lots of editing, and lots of problem solving. You promised them that by the end of the month, you would increase their profits via online and social media by forty percent. Your coworkers told you that it was too risky to promise such a big turnaround, yet that didn’t sway you. 

Typically, Kim Publishing worked with writers of novels, short stories, and more of the like. Occasionally, they worked with other companies that seeked better publication and production of their materials - online revenue. Working on this project ensured that while you were trying to remain distant from the world, you could see Joon Jae throughout the days without being entirely alone. Safe.

When he demanded your presence at night, you showed up at his apartment and gave him anything he wanted. Joon Jae did not hold back his passion for pain in forms of pleasure when you were together, but you had finally voiced for him to be cautious with marking you too much. Taehyung’s father’s charity ball was approaching, so requesting to avoid bruising wasn’t exactly unheard of. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from putting bruises in places he knew no one could see. 

As time progressed, you found yourself reaching a breaking point. Typically, you loved seeing marks tattooed on your body as a reminder of your nights of lust and dominance over you - but not with him. Every time you saw your Dom, you felt like you were going to be sick. Faking orgasms was getting harder each day. Although, as Joon Jae was a purely self-absorbed man, he didn’t really notice. 

At last, it was the day before the ball. Arrangements were made to leave work early so you could go home, and practice your song one last time before you had to perform it at the charity ball. You just wish you had the energy to be remotely excited about it. This was supposed to be your night to release your true feelings through the sound of music towards Taehyung. Although, here you were, in a relationship you couldn’t get out of. You're almost positive that Taehyung’s relationship with Yuri has only blossomed wildly this past week. Naturally.

When you arrived at your apartment, it was shortly after noon. Any other day, you would have grabbed lunch by now, but you've completely lost your appetite. It’s been like this all week. You've been surviving on ramyeon and espresso coffees all the while. Luckily, Joon Jae was going to be out of town today for an event, and wouldn’t be back until the ball tomorrow. You were relieved to finally have a whole day to yourself without twitching at the thought of him arriving at your doorstep any minute or ringing your phone. 

Once inside your apartment, it felt warm from the sun beaming inside of it. Perks of having a home with large windows in place of exterior walls. For once, you felt like you could breathe as you closed the door, greeted with silence. Your feet dragged you to the bedroom as you dropped your contents one-by-one on any surface you passed by on your way. Walking in a zombie-like state as your body starts to feel like putty, your body relaxes with each step. A hot bath would be absolute heaven right now; perhaps a glass of wine too. 

As you take off your cardigan, you hear something shift behind you. You turn around, gasping from shock before easing into instant relief and butterflies. It was your best friend standing there so casually.

“Jesus, Taehyung. You have to stop doing that. You almost gave me a heart attack. Honestly.” You clutch your chest with your hand over your rapidly beating heart. Although who knows if it’s because he scared you, or if this is just how your heart always beats around him. Likely the latter. 

Taehyung stood there, examining you. He didn’t say a word, but instead walked up to you blatantly looking you over you with a fiery gaze. And yet, in the same gaze seemed to be softness with concern. You had to subdue the inappropriate thoughts that instantly came to your mind. With a sense of security, and belonging that was not earned, your submissive side called out to his dominant side as he towered over you. He reached to cup your face, but you flinched ever so slightly by accident. This caused him to worry; melting to a sheepish stance. 

Taehyung’s touch had never bothered you before. He knew it was always platonically welcomed by you. At this moment, a look of hurt appeared on his face. With caution, Taehyung slowly proceeded to cup your face again, gently turning your head side to side as he looked you over. It was no secret that he was truly concerned about you. 

Out of shame, you couldn’t dare look him in the eyes as fear began to fill you; fear that he would see right through you. Taehyung released you, standing before you with a softer demeanor yet he still held a dominant presence. His aura made you want to run into his arms, but you refrained.

“Y/N, how long has this been going on,” he inquired in a low, calm tone. You pulled your oversized cardigan back over your shoulders to bring you extra comfort; suddenly feeling cold and uncomfortable. Just as your anxiety crept in, you noticed that Taehyung seemed fidgety in the slightest. He tried his best to hide it, but you can see his hands twitching inside his pockets.

“What do you mean,” you asked quietly as an attempt to hide your little secret. Swiftly, you move away from him to head towards the kitchen for the glass of wine that you desperately need right now. You could easily sense that Taehyung wanted nothing more but to stop you in your tracks. He suppressed the urge to interject as it wasn’t his place. His arm stopped abruptly as he removed his hand from his pocket, re-routing to “adjust” the hem of his shirt. He followed you to the kitchen casually. 

As you grabbed a bottle of merlot, pouring a reasonable amount for yourself, you took a deep breath. Following suit, you poured another for Taehyung as you know he would desire to join you. The first sip didn’t calm your nerves as much as you would have liked but the second one helped a little more. Taehyung took a respectful sip from the glass and maintained eye contact with you. His stare burns into your skin as you become flush with heat.

“Y/N. Answer the question,” he said in a firm voice. This time you looked up at him immediately without hesitation. Your submissive instincts take over as easily as they always do around him. Taehyung wasn’t dressed for work. Casual attire in loose jeans and black t-shirt; something that always looked good on him. You sighed softly as you realized just how much you missed him this past week. 

You’ve barely spoken, and you skipped out on your weekly therapy appointment with Yoongi. That’s probably why he was here. Therapists are supposed to keep client confidentiality unless you’re Kim Taehyung who seems to always get what he wants. It was ridiculously infuriating sometimes. It’s not like Yoongi flat out tells Taehyung information but he’s really good at pointing him in the right direction. Why does he even bother? Knowing that the inevitable conversation was about to take place, you took your glass and went back to your room. Taehyung flattened his pillow-like lips, and made way to follow you yet again. For someone that had so little patience, he always seemed to be wildly patient with you. 

“I told you I was busy this week,” you retorted with a shrug as you took another sip of wine, “I didn’t even have time to meet with Yoongi. Once this contract with GQ is done, I’ll meet with him, okay? If that’s your worry. You don’t have to interrogate me. Now, if you don’t mind, I was planning on taking a bath. Why don’t we catch up tomorrow at the party?” Your defensiveness took over like a prey-worthy animal in a corner - oversharing when caught. 

There was desperation in your voice that you could not hide so easily. Taehyung couldn’t hold back,  and reached out to grab your arm. He pulled up one of your cardigan sleeves in a quick motion, revealing the bruised lining around your wrist. You panicked to pull the sleeve back down and dropped your glass of wine. The red liquid spilled on the wooden floor as glass shattered around your feet. In the face of a small scare, you had never been so grateful as to not have carpeting. Red wine stains are the worst.

“Shit,” you whispered. You rolled your eyes as you took a step to get towels - frustrated with yourself. Taehyung stopped you in mid-step. His touch and rapid motion do not trigger you. The air stills. In the face of his dominance, you feel safe. Safer than anything and anywhere else in the world. His warm touch makes your legs weak.

“I’ll take care of it,” he lets out a sigh with worry. You bite your bottom lip, and look down at the ground to avoid his beautiful eyes - gentle almonds filled with care.

“It’s happening again, isn’t it,” Taehyung asked with calmness in his voice, evident with disappointment but primarily worry. He let out a frustrated sigh. Knowing exactly where you keep your cleaning essentials, Taehyung grabs the items effortlessly. His focus truly never leaving you.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N? You promised that you would tell me if someone was taking advantage of you again so I could help you. How can I help you if you shut me out? Don’t you care about yourself? This is...” And then it happened, you shut down. Taehyung stopped himself from proceeding forward as he realized his overreaction wasn’t making you feel any better. What you really needed right now was comfort, not a lecture. 

The atmosphere stilled with silence as you fell into submission. Speechless with no words clouding your mind, and too timid to look him in the eyes. Everything went blank. He was right. Leaving him out of this was doing more harm than good, and yet here you were shutting down instead of running to him. Honestly, you didn’t know how to pull yourself out of your head. It was suffocating. Taehyung knelt before you as you spiraled. A soft breath escaped his lips.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung,” was all you could manage to say. A bashful response as you felt that you had  disappointed him. Internally, the inner demons you harbored convinced you that he was angry with you and would leave your side. Your best friend tilted his head to try to look at you. A soft, tender gaze looking at you with the sweetest smile on his lips. He reached to brush the hair falling near your eyes. Tears prickled your eyes as you melted into his touch.

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. That’s not what you needed. I put my worry and needs before yours when you’re clearly not in the right state,” he let out a soft sigh with worry evident on his face. 

“What can I do to help you trust me?” He took your silence as an answer, and looked over your covered body. He took notice that you managed to cover every possible inch of you, even on a warm day. Words remained silent on your lips.

“How bad is it,” he continued kindly, “Please. Share your pain with me. Let me in.” Just like that, he unraveled you. Every wall came crashing down as the desperation in his voice made you yearn for him. Suddenly, the words flowed from you so easily; from your first date to the first time he punished you, to the hard limits he abused. 

“I was going to text you the first night it happened but...I was too scared. I submitted to him in more ways than I wanted to. I felt so pathetic,” you looked at him with tears in your eyes, “Please don’t be upset with me.” Taehyung’s nostrils were flaring. He was trying so hard to contain his anger towards the man that abused his power over you. After a couple of deep breaths, he stood up and held his hand out to you.

“Come on. I’ll draw you a bath. We’ll talk about this once you get some sleep. You look like you haven’t slept all week,” he said in a low, soothing voice. As much as you wanted to protest, the mention of sleep made your eyes heavier. Delicately, you took his hand and nodded. With his arm around your shoulder, he led you to your bathroom. He knew where everything was and drew you a lavender scented bath - your favorite. After grabbing a towel, he turned to leave but stopped.

“N/N...can I see them? The marks,” you froze in place as his question made your cheeks burn. The marks on your body ranged from your wrists to the back of your hips, and the round mounds behind you. The crimson hue to your skin reached your ears. Taehyung has seen you naked before but that was by accident. One shower incident, not knowing he was inside your home as you danced to the kitchen to grab a snack. One very embarrassing incident - and he laughed. 

You know it’s nothing sexual, yet it’s still inadvertently intimate. Even stripping down to your underwear, you’d be so exposed to him. Surprisingly, you considered showing him, to be seen by someone else and feel validated that these marks are just as putrid as you see them. This boundary… Is it appropriate to cross it? He is your best friend after all - the person you trust most.

“The marks? They’re in private places, Tae. I don’t think Yuri would like that very much.” Taehyung stiffened and for once, he seemed slightly embarrassed. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to having a girlfriend and didn’t think about that. He took a step closer and handed you the towel.

“Yuri doesn’t control me,” he said in a stern voice but then softened, “You’re my friend and I- I need to see them. I need to know.” There was sincerity in his eyes. It almost seemed as if he was scared. Is he punishing himself for what happened to you? You've only seen this side of him once before. 

You were in the hospital after a bad session with one of your past Doms. Taehyung was away on a business trip for a week and when he came back, you were asleep in the gurney with several bruises and a cut lip. He thought you were asleep, but you could hear his tears and his apology for leaving you; promising he would never let this happen again. On the outside, you looked like you would be fine but he knew you wouldn’t be - not mentally. Perhaps this would be proof to him that this was real yet again. With a soft nod, you slowly began to undress.

Out of respect, Taehyung kept his distance; taking a step back as you did so. First your cardigan, then your knee length dress that hugged your curves - leaving you in your bra and underwear. Surely that would be enough for him to see the bruises that peppered your body - now shades of yellow, green, and brown. His eyes started making their way across your skin. You bit your bottom lip, and watched his gaze. It gave you chills in a way of vulnerability but also, arousal. Thankfully your bra was padded, otherwise he would be able to see how much his eyes affected you. Your nipples were erect, and your underwear damp with need. 

Desperately you wanted him to touch you - hold you. You wanted to feel his hands caressing your body in ways it’s never felt before. Somehow you knew that his touch would heal you. It would make you feel no pain, only happiness. Something fierce turned in you, and it took every ounce of your being not to speak up. Taehyung did something that surprised you. His coffee-brown eyes seemed darker or maybe it was in your imagination. 

He took a cautious step closer to you. His eyes remained on your hips where the worst bruises rested. On each side, beneath the black fabric that hugged your hips, bruises in shapes of fingerprints - marks of Joon Jae’s nails that had pierced your skin. Your breath became shaky as he stood before you. It was like he was hypnotized by your marks, yet you couldn’t read what was churning in his mind. He extended his hands and slowly reached for your hips. His fingertips brushed over your skin. His eyes moved to yours to look for a sign, expecting you to wince from pain or hesitation of his touch. Little did he know that his touch relaxed you beyond compare. 

“S-see...it’s not that bad,” you whispered as you met his gentle gaze. Something shifted in his eyes as your eyes locked, something you've never seen before. You weren’t sure what it was. Yet, he just stood there - unwavering his eyes.

“Taehyung-”

“I should go. I have to take care of something before the ball. Thank you…for showing me,” he said softly. You nodded as he released his gentle hold on you, leaving you cold and in need of his touch again. 

“Min-hyuk will pick you up at 7 tomorrow night. I’ll be wearing a black mask. Come find me when you arrive, okay?” A lighthearted chuckle escaped you as he handed you the towel to cover yourself.

“A black mask in a sea of other masks? I don’t think that’ll be too hard.” He smiled back at your little joke, and left you alone in your bathroom. As soon as you heard the door closing faintly in the distance, you felt like you could breathe again. Your body was on fire as you could still feel his touch. It felt like electric waves coursed through your veins just in a few seconds. 

Turning to the warm bath that awaited you, the bath he drew for you, you sighed. When you discarded your bra, your nipples perked just as you knew they would. It was no surprise that when you eased your underwear down your legs, a string of arousal clung to them as your core remained swollen. As usual, the bliss of your own fingers, imagination, and a soothing bath will have to ease your ache for yet another night.

Not a single word out of Joon Jae today. It wasn’t unusual but since he was returning today from his trip, you figured you would have had a message from him with instructions for tonight. Although it’s not like you’re complaining. His silence is your saving grace.

As you sat in the back of Min-hyuk’s car, you watched the traffic as it rushed by. He looked in the rearview mirror to glance at you. Your mask wasn’t in place yet as there was no reason to hide your identity just yet. There was never a need for a divider between you as he was your friend as well.

“Miss Y/N,” he said from the front. Your gaze met his in the mirror and smiled in turn.

“Yes Min-hyuk?” Min-hyuk’s eyes flickered between you and the road to drive safely. He watched the road as he spoke.

“You look very beautiful tonight. I hope you smile a lot tonight. You deserve it, N/N.” His words made your heart skip a beat. Min-hyuk was like family to you. Almost like an uncle but more of a dear, old friend. He told you once that he hopes his daughter grows up to be like you, and that was the greatest compliment he could have given. Although, for both of their sake, you hope she becomes much better; stronger and wiser, just like her father. Min-hyuk stopped the car as he pulled into the Kim’s driveway. Grabbing your mask to put in place, you leaned forward to get closer to Min-hyuk. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder to kiss his cheek.

“I don’t know what I would do without you, Min-hyuk. Thank you.” He smiled back at you whilst trying to remain professional, he averted his gaze straight ahead. Various people in all colors and shapes cascading into the radiant home. So many elegant gowns with elaborate details to match the masquerade theme. A gentle thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t resist.

“Why don’t you go home? I can easily find a ride home. Besides, I’m sure your daughter would love to see you at a decent hour.” There was a sparkle of hope and admiration in his eyes that you couldn’t help but to adore. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll let Taehyung know I relieved you. I’ll take the scolding.” It was obvious that Min-hyuk tried masking his excitement but you could see right through it. With the slightest of smiles but the fullest heart, Min-hyuk got out of the car to open your door. You got out and stood by his tall, broad form.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he responded. Smiling at him, you squeezed his forearm gently.

“Have a good night, Min-hyuk.” With that, you sauntered off into the night to join the rest of the mysterious guests of Min-ho’s masquerade ball.

The Kim’s home, that had always been your safe haven, had transformed into a modern renaissance extravaganza. It was simply stunning. Hues of red and gold filled the room with chandeliers to add to the expensive tone. Jesters and performers of all kinds were scattered around the room to entertain guests as they walked by. From jugglers to a man swallowing a ball of fire as if it was water quenching his thirst. 

A smile appeared on your face in appreciation of how well the Kim’s always throw a party. It was over the top and yet they always spent more money than they pocketed in profit. It’s never about the money for such events, especially a charity event. This night is for underprivileged children in broken homes and drug addictions. A cause they have always been passionate about. It was admirable - and why you’re a part of their family today. 

Feeling confident as you glided into the mansion, you felt proud of your dress. You felt sexy. It was conservative yet not. The dress caught your eye ages ago, deciding to keep it for a special occasion. A golden dress with glimmering accents that made you feel radiant. Your bare skin peeking through the nude toned mesh material, from afar looking see-through in a teasing way. Sequins reflecting every light you pass under as if you were a walking piece of jewelry - not too tacky or gaudy. A delicate turtleneck with exposed shoulders to reveal your soft skin in contrast to the floor length gown. Caressing your hips and between your breasts was a sheer fabric that lightly exposed your skin, just enough to show you were not wearing a bra or underwear - not enough to give everyone a show. Fortunately, the material cupping your breasts was thick enough to hide the perk to your nipples as the dress was mildly stimulating. The ensemble you chose didn’t go unnoticed by the others at the party. People casually glanced your way, yet your head remained high as confidence coursed through you

A gold mask laid on your face well enough to hide your insecurities. It matched your dress in its sparkle and shine. There is just enough makeup for a natural, bronze look to pair evenly with your attire. With grace, you scanned the room as you walked through. The Kim’s decorated their home to look like a casino to allow people to gamble for a cause. People of all sorts spread throughout the home at blackjack tables, poker, craps, roulette, but also the dance floor. Smooth jazz played in the background as the live band and black tied man sang at the microphone. 

For the first time in a while, you felt unafraid and sure of yourself. At least until you saw something that made your confidence drop into the pit of your stomach. Taehyung entered the room with a silver dressed goddess on his arm - Yuri. She wore a silky dress that clung to her petite body. It was apparent that Taehyung bought it for her. It had his taste written all over it. Even you could tell that Yuri was a simple girl that didn’t like extravagant things. The dress suited her and you can’t deny that you don’t envy her for it. Although you love the dress you're in, a part of you wants to be in that dress instead - or perhaps, on Taehyung’s arm. Thankfully, Taehyung’s elegant mother approaches you, and gives you the distraction you desperately needed.

“Y/N! Oh my… You-,” she let out a sigh and smiled sweetly with tears in her eyes, “You look absolutely stunning, dear.” Sooyoung reaches you, immediately giving you a kiss on each cheek after a warm hug as she always does when she sees you. She looked stunning in her black dress. She always looked beautiful in such a warm way that made you feel nothing but comfort.

“Thank you, Sooyoung. You look beautiful beyond words as always. The party seems like a success as I knew it would.” Sooyoung smile, humbly brushing off your compliment. Letting out a pleased sigh, she looked around and nodded.

“You’re too kind, dear. It turned out very well. I can’t say I’m not proud.” At that moment, Taehyung and Yuri turned towards you to meet Min-ho, his father, to exchange a few words. You tried your best not to acknowledge the situation. Fortunately, a waiter walked by with a tray of champagne. Quickly taking a stemmed glass, you downed it without a problem. Sooyoung smirked and took a sip from her own that she gathered as well.

“I’m sorry to hear about Joon Jae, although I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” she said as she lowered her glass. This caught your attention. You cocked your head slightly as you lowered your glass to hold elegantly in your hand.

“Joon Jae? What do you mean?”Sooyoung almost looked amused at your question.

“Why do you sound so surprised? It’s been all over the news all day - the arrest. Surely, you heard about it,” she waited a moment before continuing, “Embezzling thousands of dollars for years is bound to catch up with a person. I must say, I had a bad feeling about him. At least now you don’t have to part ways in an uncomfortable way. Assuming you would be parting ways, that is.” Embezzling money? What on earth is she talking about? You tried your best not to seem too surprised. Instead, you nodded to agree with her. Thankfully, a couple approached her to grasp her attention; giving you an opportunity to get away. 

Out of your small clutch purse, you pulled out your phone. Your instinct told you to just search on Naver for Joon Jae’s name to see what came up. To your surprise, his name appeared instantly in a headline - “Ahn Joon Jae Hordes Thousands from GQ Korea Magazine”. Within the first paragraph, it described his crime; stating he stole money from the company through false stocks and bonds. An anonymous tip warned the authorities yesterday afternoon and he was arrested the moment he landed back in Seoul from a business trip. Something about this raised an alarm inside of you. You looked up from your phone to find Taehyung. He was deep in conversation with another couple with Yuri clinging to his side. 

A part of you felt upset by this, yet another part felt touched. The ultimate fear inside of you of the consequences from this couldn’t help but to surface. There was no doubt it was Taehyung. The situation was too perfectly timed. He had to take care of something alright, you thought. Joon Jae was a powerful man. Could Taehyung’s power overshadow his or would this come back to haunt you? Your thoughts were interrupted by a man in a tuxedo in a black and silver mask. This man was Ki-young, Taehyung’s older brother.

“Can our girl dress to impress or what? N/N, you look freaking amazing,” the golden retriever said cheerfully. It was obvious from his ecstatic mannerisms that it was your unrelated brother. Right away, you could recognize his date from your previous dinner together. She wore an elegant blue dress that complimented her dyed blonde hair accompanied by a silver mask. Ki-young leaned forward to give you a kiss on the cheek and you reciprocated.

“You always know how to make a girl feel special. Hello Yoona. You look beautiful. I can see why Ki-young is so cheerful tonight.” The young woman blushed, and squeezed Ki-young’s arm as she held onto him.

“Thank you. I have to say this isn’t your everyday crowd, but it’s a lot of fun being here dressed like this. So many elites and chaebols are here,” she whispers excitedly, “But seriously, N/N. That dress is to die for. Your boyfriend must be a mess seeing you like this. Where is uh...Joon Jae, right?” Ki-young looked a little guilty towards you, or at least knowing of the situation. You simply smiled kindly.

“Joon Jae isn’t here tonight. I came alone. I couldn’t let this dress go to waste,” you teased lightly, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Min-ho for a moment. Have a good evening you two.” As much as you wanted your exit to seem nonchalant, Yoona looked at Ki-young with apologetic eyes. She could sense she unintentionally made you uncomfortable. He assured her that she did nothing wrong with a simple kiss to her temple.

Indeed, you did go to find Min-ho for further instructions on your performance tonight. You couldn’t face Taehyung; not yet at least. Besides, he was busy entertaining Yuri, so you didn’t want to interrupt them. In fact, the more you thought about it, knowing you were truly alone tonight, all you wanted to do was sing your song and make your exit. Going home, putting on some pajamas, and watching a chick flick with a big glass of wine sounded delightful - maybe a whole bottle. 

Min-ho was found standing with Sooyoung as they spoke to another lavish couple. As you approached them, you tried sneaking glances at Taehyung. Luckily, he never noticed. Your fictive kin  parents took notice of you as you approached them, and said their goodbyes to the couple they were speaking with.

“N/N, dear, you look stunning. I’m so glad you made it,” Min-ho said with delight. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. He had such young features for a man his age; so comforting and bright. The Kim’s were truly a good looking family, even including Taehyung being adopted into the family. Their wealth and status never faltered their kindhearted nature. They always remained true and pure. You couldn’t have asked for a better family to stand by your side throughout your years.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you took another quick glance at Taehyung, whom you found on the dance floor with Yuri. Sooyoung took notice as she always does - as most mothers do.

“So, your performance. Are you well prepared?” Min-ho smirked as the instruments in the background came to an end. The guests clapped respectfully for the band. Butterflies tingled to your very core.

“It looks like it will be about right about now,” he remarked with a wink as he walked towards the stage. The intoxication of the champagne seemed to hit you like an IV tap - giving you enough courage to carry on. Sooyoung stepped closer to you and put her hand on your arm for comfort.

“Don’t be nervous, dear. It’s going to be beautiful,” Sooyoung reassured in her sweetest, motherly tone. With a sigh, you put your hand over hers before she let go.

“I’m...going to sing something different. Something with more meaning. I don’t think the world is ready for the mess I’ve been writing these days,” you joked with a nervous laugh. It was a decision you were perfectly happy with. Most of the songs you sang had a dark and somber meaning between the lines. This selection was specifically driven towards a more light yet still romantic setting. As you sat down each night to practice this song, something felt right. This song made your heart hurt in the most healing way - the old, jazz classic, Everytime We Say Goodbye.

“It is my pleasure to introduce a beautiful, young woman who has been nothing less than a daughter to me and my wife over the years. It turns out that she has wonderful talent, and now she’s going to share it with all of you. We’re delighted to witness such a gift. Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N L/N.” When you heard your name, your heart pounded in your chest. Your eyes on the microphone as you approached the small stage area.

It’s been so long since you've performed in front of people. Well, you had piano recitals in school, but you didn’t have to open your mouth to sing. Ever. This was new territory and surprisingly, you didn’t feel like you were going to throw up. Although, it did feel like your heart was beating in your throat. A part of you felt relief that Soo-young convinced you to stand outside of your comfort zone. It was especially invigorating as no one really knew you could sing. And now, the people closest to you and a room of elite strangers were about to see your vulnerability on display. 

The crowd lightly applauded as you took your graceful strides forward. When you got up to the stage, you were greeted with a sea of elegant men and women in extraordinary dresses and masks - a beautiful sight yet excruciatingly intimidating. Even though this was an upscale lifestyle you were used to seeing, you still didn’t feel as if you fit in. But now, with this song, you could escape to a world that was always your safe place. It should be a terrifying thought but the only set of eyes that make you weak in the knees are his.

The piano keys begin playing in the background in a harmonious fashion. Nervous fingers twitch at your side to the melody to follow along the rhythm. Instantly, as you close your eyes to take it all in, it takes you back to your childhood. When you and Taehyung were having your darkest of days. Playing jazz albums on the vinyl player he kept in his room, this song in particular - Every Time We Say Goodbye. Tonight, the beautiful melody was sung by you.

We love each other so deeply That I ask you this, sweetheart Why should we quarrel ever? Why can't we be enough clever,  never to part -

It wasn’t until you drew out the last note that you finally opened your eyes. Closing your eyes allowed you to feel the music and travel back to the time you held so near and dear to your heart. When you opened them, your focus was on the pair of brown eyes that always made your heart flutter. It took no time to find them as if your auras were calling out to each other. The melody remained slow as your voice led the flow of the chords. So tender and raw with a hint of deep love with each note that escaped your lips. A fabrato purred in your throat with each ending word naturally.

Every time we say goodbye, I die a little Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little Why the gods above me, who must be in the know - Think so little of me They allow you to go -

The song flowed in perfect harmony with your voice as people began slow dancing along. Eyes respectfully tried to remain on you as your presence was captivating in every way. In particular, Taehyung was watching. There was a soft smile on his lips. You couldn’t tell if he was surprised or in awe or just content to be near his beloved. Yuri said something to him that you couldn’t make out. He then turned his attention back to her. It was only for a moment and his gaze was back on you as they continued dancing with one another. 

When you're near, There's such an air of spring about it I can hear a lark somewhere begin to sing about it - There's no love song finer But how strange the change from major to minor Every time we say goodbye Every time we say goodbye -

The song came to an end with a big weight lifted off of your chest. The room cheered. In Particular, you took notice of Ki-young and Min-ji clapping and cheering louder than anyone else in the room - such supportive siblings. You couldn’t help but to smile with a tinted rose in your cheeks. Graciously, you curtsied to the crowd. Walking off the stage, the band began playing the next song to keep the mood for the party. You decided to go towards the dance floor to find everyone; well, Taehyung. Interrupting your search with eagerness, Ki-young, Yoona, and Min-ji walked up to you. Min-ji was the first to give you the biggest hug her petite body could handle.

“Y/N L/N! Oh my god! I didn’t know you could sing like that! Babe, you sounded like an angel!" As you hugged her back, you couldn’t help but to giggle. Her enthusiasm made you feel warm. Min-ji was always such a bright spirit and you loved her for it. 

“Thanks Min-ji. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you before going on. You look ravishing as always.” Min-ji gave you a look and then the same to Ki-young.

“Can you ever take a compliment without giving one back,” she asked with a laugh, “but thank you. You know how much I love a good party.”

“You love anything that involves you dressing up, Min,” Ki-young interrupted with a kind smile. Min-ji turned to him with a cheeky smile showing that he was right on the nose.

“You know me all too well, big brother.” At that moment, Taehyung arrived by your side and gently placed his hand on your lower back. An instant chill ran up your spine as you caught a glimpse of the coy smile he gave his siblings; his scent filling your nose. Smoked cherries - spicy and sweet. Ba-dum, ba-dum. Be still my heart.

“Ki-young, Yoona, Min-ji, do you mind if I steal N/N for a moment?” The trio smiled and willingly let him whisk you away. He didn’t waste any time to take you further onto the floor, readying himself in position to start dancing with you. He held you close and your instinct was to find Yuri to ensure this didn’t bother her. She couldn’t be seen anywhere.

“Where’s your date,” you asked casually. Taehyung looked at you without an emotion you could read and held your hand a little tighter in an endearing way - a comforting way.

“She’ll be back soon. So, when were you planning on telling me that you could sing like that? I've  known you practically your whole life and I've never heard you. Curious.” The word slithered out like a snake who just caught his victim. The way he asked seemed as if he was slightly insulted that he didn’t know. A playful scoff came out. The man acts as if there can be no secrets between you two. Little does he know. He discovered something about you that he couldn’t read in a file. Poor thing. You looked into his eyes and remained coy.

“You don’t have to know everything about me, you know?” He laughed lightly in amusement. Lowering himself to meet your ear so only you could hear, his breath tickled your skin.

“You and I both know that’s far from the truth. I must know everything about you,” his voice  hummed deliciously in a way that made you shiver, “For what it’s worth, you have a beautiful voice, along with how you look tonight. You sang our song. Should I be flattered or was that just a coincidence?” His gaze returned to yours as he parted from the side of your face. Prayers couldn’t prevent your cheeks from changing colors. His irises seemed darker somehow. It made your heart race.

“It depends. Are you flattered, Taehyung?” Wait. Are we flirting? It’s been a while since we’ve been playful towards each other; at least since before Yuri came into the picture. A smirk formed on his perfectly shaped lips - hypnotizing.

“Flattered enough that I want to hear you again. Would you sing for me,” he asked in an enticing voice. It was then that you realized how close you were dancing together. His touch felt like fire against your lower back as the material of your dress was dangerously thin. You could feel how firm his chest was as your torsos were sandwiched together. The smell of his body wash and light scented cologne makes your head spin. Surely he could feel how fast your heart was beating. Or perhaps he could smell how aroused you are. Your cheeks flushed deeper as you looked up at him.

“You know I’ll do anything you ever ask of me. I’ll do anything for you, Taehyung,” you said in a submissive tone. Saying his name when you spoke to him was your own way of being submissive to him, but you're not sure if he ever noticed. Something changed in his expression. It seemed as if time stood still. Suddenly, Taehyung’s attention averted towards the entrance. Yuri was headed out in a rushed fashion - almost as if she was running away. His attention was no longer in your presence as he watched her descend towards the doors.

“Perhaps a raincheck. Excuse me.” And in an instant, Taehyung left. Initially, the feeling of disappointment coursed through you yet your empathy took over. Whatever it was, it would be awful of her boyfriend to just stand there and watch her leave. And yet, how quickly he ran to her without hesitation made your heart drop ever so slightly. You got your dance and sang your song. May as well make your exit. Regardless, it was all you wanted from this evening. 

Sooyoung and Min-ho are sitting at a table engaging in conversation with other elites. With a deep breath to regain your composure, you make your way over there to say goodbye. They both look up at you with delight.

“Sorry to leave so early but I think I’m going to go,” you interrupt politely. Min-ho went to speak but was pulled into another conversation by a peer. Sooyoung looked disappointed by this.

“But the evening has just begun, darling. Won’t you stay for the auction? It’s coming up soon.” Ah, the auction. Bidding on items and events isn’t exactly your cup of tea. Your contribution was your voice and you couldn’t bear to be there any longer. Walking over behind them, you kissed each of them on the cheek.

“Enjoy your evening, okay? I’ll come over soon to share a meal.” Sooyoung opened her mouth to protest, however, you left before you could hear another reason to stay. For once, you wanted to be selfish. You needed to be selfish. Besides, nothing sounded more appealing to you than spending the remainder of the night with yourself. Perhaps tonight, you’ll start learning how to move on; starting with the biggest bottle of wine that you can find.

It was nearly midnight and you were sure the party had come to an end by now. A content sigh escaped you as you walked out of your bedroom in your most comfortable loungewear. Face washed and your routine night care had been complete - leaving you feeling fresh. Eagerness coursed through your veins as your bare feet led you towards the kitchen. A steaming cup of tea awaited you. 

With your cup in hand, you walked over to your couch whilst taking tiny sips to soothe your soul. A fuzzy blanket laid lazily just calling out your name. Now that the ball was over, a weekend ahead of catching up on rest seemed like a dream. Just as you were about to turn on an episode of one of your favorite dramas, there was a knock on the door. Panic made you freeze; alert yet confused. Who would be at your door this late at night?

Fear rose in your chest as you slowly got off the couch. Please don’t let it be Joon Jae… Your phone in hand ready in case you need to make an emergency call to someone, anyone. Thoughts mumbling internally as you approach the tiny security screen near your door, you take a peak to see your visit. To your surprise, it was the last person you were expecting to see. Instantly, you opened the door.

“Taehyung? What are you doing here?” His hair looked slightly teased. His suit jacket was gone leaving him just in a button down shirt, the top two buttons undone and his tie unraveled around his collar. He looked up at you in a way that caused your heart to skip a beat. Had he been crying?

“She’s gone. I guess I’m more of a monster than I thought…” His voice sounded so defeated. It broke your heart into two. Nothing stopped you from reaching out for his hand to lead him inside.

“Ah... Come inside,” your soothing voice whispered. When you closed the door, he stood in place. Looking around your apartment as if it was the first time he had ever been here. Lost and dazed. What the hell happened to make him so disheveled? As much as you wanted to wrap your arms around him, you decided to keep your distance. Instead, you went to the kitchen to grab a cup of tea for him as well. He looked like he desperately needed one - something comforting. When you returned to him, he hadn’t moved an inch. He slowly reached for the cup, wrapping his hands around it without taking a sip.

“What happened? I haven’t seen you like this...in a really long time. Are you okay?” Somehow, you felt as if you could feel his pain. Your attachment to him truly took a hold. The empathetic connection you shared was all consuming, as if you had the power to fix everything.

“She wanted to see. She wanted to know how far I could go. It wasn’t even my furthest. I proceeded with caution, started slowly. But she looked at me as if I abused her. I trusted her to tell me to stop and she never did. Why didn’t she use her safe word? I...I don’t know what I did wrong.” Blood boiled inside of you. Although he spoke without much context, you knew exactly what he meant. Yuri must have challenged Taehyung to show her his true dominance. Why like this? Yuri was new to the world of BDSM. Trust is the utmost important aspect of the realm. To defy this trust is the worst you can do - whether as the dominant or the submissive.

Remember when you interviewed Yuri a while back, she asked you questions about this lifestyle. It wasn’t a life for her. She didn’t understand. You don’t just become submissive. You either are or you’re not. Maybe you should have warned Taehyung but he needed to see for himself. In the moment, all you could do was keep to yourself. Now wasn’t the time for “I told you so”. He needed a friend, a confidant.

“You’re not a monster. Don’t ever think that way. You have strong feelings for Yuri and I get that. I really do. You gained feelings for someone who doesn’t understand this life, which isn’t easy. Being a dominant or a submissive isn’t a sin. It’s not weird or unusual. It’s an intense relationship that involves trust in so many forms. You need someone who can give you the best of both worlds - a submissive and a deep connection outside of the bedroom. I’m...sorry that person wasn’t Yuri. Give it some time. Maybe she just needs to think about it and she’ll come around. If you’ll accept her trust again, that is.” Taehyung’s gaze never left yours as you spoke. Something softened in his eyes.

“I don’t think I could trust her again. Who is to say she won’t do it again? Maybe…I need someone that can give me that trust. Someone...like you.” Your jaw dropped and lips dried as you lost your breath. Eyes widened at his words, your head frantically started replaying his words to make sure you heard them correctly.

“I-I...I don’t know w-what you mean. You’re not thinking clearly. Why don’t we sit on the couch?” Fighting every fiber of your being to think too much into the situation, you turned to go towards the couch. His hand reached for your wrist to still you. His eyes were dark, lingering enough to make your skin heat with anticipation.

“I’m thinking more clearly than I have in my entire life. Y/N, why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” Time stood still. What did he mean? It couldn’t be. The song perhaps? How did he know? Thinking back, you recalled getting an unusual text from his mother after you left the ball.

It will all be better soon. I promise, dear.

Sooyoung. What the hell did she say to him? The breath in your lungs became dense as the room became smaller. The deepest secret between the two of you had been revealed without your permission. A string of emotions rushed over you as you tried to find a way to escape this.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re...just friends. That’s it,” you stuttered timidly as you tried to play it off with nervous laughter. Taehyung didn’t look phased.

“If you wanted to be more, all you had to do was ask. I thought I was clear about that.” Then that’s when you started putting the pieces together. Did he think you just wanted to be his submissive? You couldn’t help but to laugh lightly - insulted.

“Taehyung, I’ve told you a thousand times. I don’t want to be your sub. I value our friendship far too much for that. I don’t know what your mother told you but I think you got the wrong idea. Don’t read too much into things.” Feeling the perfect opportunity as he loosened his grip, you removed your wrist from his hand. The fear of him feeling your heightened pulse made you retreat from his warm touch. Surely she said something subtle and he took it the wrong way. He’s suggested such a dom-sub relationship for years; no strings attached. It was a line you could never cross as you knew you would get attached and want more. A real relationship. Love.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung, but that’s not a line I can cross with you.” Your gaze into his eyes were soft - sincere. Rejecting his offer yet again to avoid a potential broken heart, it was the best solution. It had to be.

“So you’re not in love with me then,” Taehyung replied in a low, sultry tone. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widened in alarm. Shock got the best of you, making you drop your teacup causing it to shatter against the floor - the only sound that remained in the room besides your thoughts.

Fuck...

[arcadekitten]

Arcade! As someone who also has OCD (and autism, but thats besides the point), I just want you to know that it DOES get better! I dont know if thats the only issue youve been dealing with lately (other than the computer one), but I just want you to know that you *can* definitely take a break and that it WILL get better <3 And dont worry about your patrons at all, we're much more worried with your mental state than with our rewards! <3

This message is so sweet of you it genuinely brings a tear to my eye, thank you ♡

I've definitely got a lot of stuff to sort through on my plate right now, while the OCD is definitely a big contributer to all of this I (and people i trust) also think I had a lot of stuff piling up for a while and it kinda became a whole "straw that broke the camel's back" ordeal. Just one of those unfortunate situations where I always tried to look for help but couldn't receive it until it actually became an emergency. (Don't recommend that btw--if you need help then keep pushing for it until you get it)

It really does mean a lot to hear you say though. I feel bad for feeling bad because I care about you guys and especially the ones going out of their way to pay me! I have always been met with so much kindness and generosity and I feel terrible when I can't provide for those who have showed so much love for the things I make! It can be hard not to be impatient with myself because I love making my art and games and I love when I get to share them with you all and seeing the joy you get from them, and I'm sad when I can't do that and I feel bad for you guys when I can't do that!

Luckily though I'm finally receiving much-needed mental health services. I'm still just only beginning but I'm at least seeing the tiniest slivers of progress and it makes me hopeful, at least for today.

I do intend to take the rest and recovery I need, but I will still be excited for whenever I get back to the usual fun we have around here. Thank you for your patience, understanding, and incredibly supportive words. They mean so so much more to me than you could ever know ♡♡♡

[bakathief]

It’s been 209 days. Since the last time you updated Shadow Chase when are we getting a new update :(

Hi how are you I‘m good thanks :)

If you are worried that I‘m slacking off rest assured that I have been working on my art in my 2-3 hours of free time every day. If you don‘t believe me you can check out the +140 art pieces in my latest collab or the 22 pages comic I uploaded 2 weeks ago. Thank you for leaving words of motivations in my comments and inbox as noone loves more „when is the next update“ comments than me, especially after a 12 hour shift on the weekend. :)

That being said, there are new pages, when I have the capacity to upload is another question.

[queenofbaws]

heyyy queenie hope ur doin well!! bit of a curveball but im Curious since ive been brain rotted with it lately, so could i ask for whump prompt 13 for the scream franchise?? any characters/movie u want, but id love u to take a stab (tee hee hee) at it :]

not-quite-six sentence weekend :P

There were a lot of emotions playing across Mindy's face as Amber pulled the knife out: doubt, intrigue, disbelief, something that could only be described as pre-schadenfreude...but worry wasn't among them. Neither were its closest cousins, concern and fear, so Tara had to figure the sudden uptick in her pulse was, in fact, solely her issue. If Mindy wasn't worried, then there probably wasn't anything to worry about. Period.

Probably.

Probably.

"Sick, right?" Amber flicked her wrist, a flourish that immediately came across as practiced even to her untrained eyes, and the butterfly knife click-click-clicked around her fingers before snapping back into place. "Copped it at a gun show this weekend with my dad. Guy running the stall said I was a natural."

"Why am I not surprised?" Tara snickered, then feigned a frightened little noise and pulled away when Amber turned, holding it out towards her. "You know if anyone catches you messing with that thing, like, right outside of school, they're gonna take it, right? You do get that? It makes sense to you? In your brain?"

She pulled a face, scrunching her nose up. "Uh, no they won't."

"Uhhh, why not?"

With another click-click-clack, she spun the knife around. "How're they gonna take it from me? I've got a kniiife."

Before she could pull away, Amber took one of Tara's hands in hers, laying it flat on the table they were sitting at. She laid her own hand perfectly on top of it, lining their fingers up until Tara's hand disappeared entirely.

"Want to see the coolest trick?"

"Uh." That was it. That was all she had time to say before Amber flexed her hand - both their hands, really - and their fingers spread wide, and...and she understood what she was about to do. Her eyes widened. "Hey, wait, nononononono!"

"Chillax, I've been doing it all week and I've still got all my fingers. You're in good hands."

"Famous last words." Though she'd been going on quite the face journey across the table, Mindy had been awfully quiet until then. Now, as Amber switched her grip on the knife, holding it more like a caveman getting ready to strike, she leaned forward with her elbows on the table, pointing her phone down at their hands.

Pre-schaudenfreude. Yeah. Tara had been right on the money with that one.

"Seriously?" Amber scoffed, "What? You think I'm gonna get performance anxiety or something?"

She sniffed once, Mindy, then shrugged one of her shoulders. Her phone didn't budge. "Nah, I just want to make sure I get this clusterfuck on video so there's evidence in the inevitable personal injury suit Tara's gonna file against you when you slice her open like an Amazon box."

Amber raised her eyes to Mindy's, her expression inscrutable. "I'd stab myself first, duh. That's the whole point of putting my hand over hers."

"Oh yeah, totally," she nodded. "The whole point, mhm. Well this is for you too, because when you stab yourself, then, I can send it to America's Funniest Home Videos. They give out cash rewards for the really funny ones, don't they?"

"Hilarious."

Tara braced herself as Amber readjusted, rolling her shoulders and assuming her focus-face. Ooh, she didn't want to be a part of the finger-stabby-knife-game-thing, she didn't want to be a part of that at all, but what choice did she have? If she pulled away, it'd knock Amber's concentration off! If she just sat there and took it, the risk of getting stabbed was literally exactly the same! There was no winning here, no getting out it, no -

"Hey guys!"

The choice was made for her.

Wes slammed his hands on the table as he joined them, sliding up from behind to sit on her other side. It startled her so badly that she could only pull away, jolting like a cat with its tail stepped on. Across the table, Mindy groaned, and beside her, Amber similarly jumped, and while her poor, asthmatic little lungs really didn't appreciate the sudden scare, her poor, unstabbed little fingers sure did.

"What's going on? Why're we all hunched over and whispery?" he asked, but the only answer she had for him with a quick smack on the wrist. "Ow?"

"Why would you do that?" she breathed a second later, the tension leaving her in one huge whooping rush. "That wasn't cool! You could've - " But as luck would have it, that was where her lecturing came to a close. Her eyes had flicked to the side for just a second, a natural human reaction, and what she'd seen...well, she wasn't sure what to make of it. "...what?" Tara asked, glancing between Amber and Mindy.

"So America's Funniest Home Videos then, huh?" Mindy's eyebrows went up as her phone went down. "If I was a pettier person, just so you know? This is where I'd be saying I told you so. But I'm not! Lucky you."

It took her a moment longer than she would've liked to figure out what that could've possibly meant. When she did, she startled all over again, almost jumping out of her seat as she spun to look at Amber. "Ohmygod - did you - ?!"

"I'm. Fine," she said through gritted teeth, looking anything but.

She did get up then, standing from the table's bench to circle around and - the noise that came out of her was a little too embarrassing to describe. "Fine? You're fine?! You have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg!"

Wes paled immediately, turning to Mindy with wide eyes, no doubt hoping she'd shed some light on the situation. She didn't, surprising no one, and instead glanced towards the front doors of the school, waving Chad over to join them when she spotted him across the way. "Well here's the good news, Am," she said, not even trying to hide her amusement, "I think you can definitely still salvage that psychosexual homoerotic tension you were going for with that brilliant stunt. Just yank that puppy out, let Tara stick a finger in there and wiggle it around a little. No harm, no foul. Everybody wins!" Then, under her breath but still more than loud enough for them all to hear over Amber's harsh breathing, "Especially me, once your idiot-ass goes viral."

[coollyinterferes]

"Back by unpopular demand:"

"Us!"

[coffee-cait]

We apologize to announce this right when 5h0p was reopened but wnnu and I have made the decision to temp close in light of more Pyp@l error issues. We will begin shipping confirmed orders starting Monday and have opened communications with PP to resolve current error issues.

We are now faced with the dilemma of: do we continue our 5h0p on BgC@rt3l but only with Str1p3 as our p@yment option? Or do we have to start over an entirely new platform from scratch?

After multiple instances of this error along with learning of accounts from customers and friends that this has affected them in the past both as 5h0p owners and customers of other BC 5h0ps we feel continuing to allow PP as an option on our BC page is not feasible.

To everyone who has ordered from us we thank you sincerely for all the support you've shown us and for those who've encountered the error and reached out we thank you so much for your patience and understanding as we continuously try to resolve the issue.

When we make our decision on how to move forward we will inform you across socials as soon as we can. Again, we sincerely apologize for the inconvenience this has caused. Thank you all and have a good day, good night and a happy lunar new year!

[365daysofmchart]

pls do a headcanon where kurt and diane has a dughter or son... or both

Welll... it's only taken me three days shy of 4 years and 2 months since I asked for 5+ headcanon prompts and probably at least 4 years since you made this request, Anon (if you, by any chance, happen to still be out there, lol), but I am finally getting around to fulfilling that prompt! (And thank God, it is the last of its kind! ...And yes, I realize that I made this way harder on myself than it was supposed to be, but I'm still allowed to feel the great relief! Ha!).

So here you are, Anon, the beginning to the fulfillment of your prompt, as the final segment of Sundays, a project which was inspired and created by weaving together your prompt with two others I received in a similar vein. I hope you enjoy or, well, if you are no longer around, I hope that others enjoy on your behalf!

PART III, CHAPTER IX: WELCOME... PART I

[oepionie]

— "HE'S THE OTHER MAN!" . the corpse groom

SYNOPSIS: A ghost groom has claimed MC as his unwilling bride. Unfortunately for him, she's already got a lover

⊹ [ c.w ] — violence, possessive behavior, malleus blows a fucking green laser down ramshackle, mentions of blood, yuu is poor but we alrdy knew that, papa crewel crumbs

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.6k opening post with malleus! if this gets enough attention, I might do more :P

"You what?" Crewel seethed, eyes wide as an unsettling smile stretched across the red of his cheeks.

"Repeat that."

"I…I accidentally released that ghost from the spellbook," Grim sobbed, his glossy eyes reflecting both fear and guilt as he looked up at the imposing figure of the professor. "And he's taken my henchhuman as his bride!"

Oh, Great Sevens. Not again.

Crewel groaned, his hands reaching up to frantically rub at his burning eyes. The flickering candlelight cast erratic shadows across his face.

"Please, do tell. How in Wonderland did someone with your lackluster skills manage to—" The professor was abruptly cut off by a loud, almost obnoxious cry that echoed from the doorway. Turning sharply, Crewel saw Crowley hunched against the entrance frame, hysterically sobbing into his palms. Fat tears dripped beneath his ornate mask, glistening in the low light. "They grow up so fast! My dear child is already getting married!"

Crewel's eye twitched as he took in the scene: Grim shaking like a leaf, and Crowley, dramatically weeping, pathetically looking to him for a solution.

"Fools," Crewel snarled, striding out of the room as he fished his phone from his coat pocket. "If you two won't be of use, then I'll have to enlist the help of those mutts instead."

The day had started like any other in Ramshackle, but you certainly didn't expect it to end with a wedding. Surrounded by the ghostly residents of the dorm, you stood dressed in all white, a bouquet clutched in your hand. Curling in yourself, you sighed and rested your head in your hands, avoiding everyone's gazes which felt like icy needles on your skin.

Ramshackle's old lounge, with its worn-out floorboards and faded wallpaper, was the chosen venue for your ceremony. Whispers rustled through the gathering, carried on a faint breeze that stirred the dust motes in the dim light. Somewhere in the background, the somber notes of an organ piano echoed. You didn't even know you had a piano…

"Dear?"

Jumping with a shriek, you whipped your head around. A ghostly visage, bathed in a deathly pale blue glow, hovered inches from your face, an unnaturally wide grin stretched across their blue lips. Bony fingers gently traced up your cheeks, sending tingles down your spine.

With sunken eyes and high, sharp cheekbones, Elizan—a "visiting" friend of one of Ramshackle's ghosts—was truly a sight to behold. His complexion had a pallor that matched the moonlight filtering through the decrepit windows of the form. Wisps of long, flowing indigo hair framed his face, swept back as if caught in a breeze that only he could feel.

"You look wonderful," he cooed, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead, leaving your cheeks burning.

"Ah. Thank you," you stammered, averting your gaze and gently pulling away. You could hardly focus on the words being spoken to you, your mind spinning with the surrealness of it all.

"You look... Good as well," you forced out with a cough, tugging at your hair nervously. "But... Listen... I—"

Before you could finish, the door to the entrance slammed open, nearly breaking off the hinges with a sound that could wake the dead, sending cracks spider-webbing through the already dilapidated walls.

On the inside, you screamed louder than the hinges.

You had painstakingly patched up the door after Grim's recent screw-up—a feat that had tested your patience and carpentry skills to their limit. Unless you wanted to survive on a diet of stale canned food and cafeteria leftovers for another year, you couldn't afford any more repairs.

While you were busy mourning the loss of having decent meals, heaving and leaning against the door for support, your friends called out your name in a panic, their bleary and furious gazes zeroing in on your figure. Clad in white, you stood there, the perfect picture of a pretty blushing bride.

The uninvited guests didn't go unnoticed by your "groom," and in seconds, you were pulled into a suffocating grip. Elizan's usually serene demeanor shattered like fragile glass. His deathly pale features contorted into a snarl, veins pulsing ominously beneath translucent skin. His typically gentle eyes blazed with an unsettling fire, icy whites now narrowed and piercing.

"Mutt!" Crewel seethed, his foot slamming into the floor and shattering the newly installed tiles. Your soul nearly left your body as you screamed inside again. There go a thousand thaumarks…

"What in the Sevens is this!?" Crewel shrieked, running a gloved hand through his tousled hair. With sharp movements, he pointed a finger at Elizan. "I'll have you know I can have you arrested for trespassing, unlawful detention, and violating the sanctity of this academy!"

"How... How dare you? Barging into this sacred ceremony—Who even are you?!" Elizan snapped back, his arms coiling tightly around your torso. The crowd erupted in a haze of shouts and muddled answers. Unable to understand anything, Elizan's intense gaze shifted and bore into yours, demanding answers. You gulped nervously, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable in his grasp.

"Who is he?! Who are they?!" he barked like a dog, flashing his sharp fangs at you.

"Uh… That's my professor—uh, Crewel," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "And those are… They're my… friends?" Your gaze flickered to the group of men who had entered, their expressions ranging from confusion to anger.

Elizan's wide eyes now filled with shock, white orbs glossed over with luminescent blue tears. He pushed you away as if you had burnt him, recoiling from your touch as though it pained him physically.

"You know other men?!" the ghost cried out, his hands clenching into fists, his midnight blue hair cascading wildly around his face like a tempestuous sea. The tortured cries of the groom echoed through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as you awkwardly shifted on your feet, feeling like a character caught in an soap drama.

"…Yes?" you replied, unsure.

"How could you do this to me?!" He sobbed, a dark shadow covering his face. "Running off on an affair the DAY of our marriage?!"

"Well, that's a rather dramatic accusation—" you started, but Elizan shook his head in anguish.

"Answer me! Do you have another man?!" His voice shook the room, and you took a few cautious steps back.

"Elizan, please," you uttered gently, your eyes darting nervously toward one of the men in the room.

Your lover didn't meet your gaze; instead, his eyes were locked onto the ghost, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his features. As you jumped down from the makeshift podium, you shot an apologetic frown at the ghost, hoping to diffuse the escalating situation. "Don't you understand? You're the other man."

"No! You're married to me!" Elizan shrieked, lunging forward in a frenzy, his nails clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something intangible. "Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

MALLEUS DRACONIA

"Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

Lilia raised an eyebrow with a chuckle, his form reclined against a fogged-up window of the room. The weather was gloomy and stormy, the skies tinted green outside, casting an eerie glow over the scene. The window pane, streaked with raindrops and mist, blurred the view of the turbulent skies beyond. Lilia hummed a tune under his breath, a calm figure amidst the brewing storm.

With a sidelong glance, his eyes locked onto Malleus, whose entire figure shook with a barely contained wrath that threatened to engulf the very air around him. The young prince's chest heaved in violent, choked breaths as smoke wisped from his mouth and nose—tendrils of flames flickering amidst the swirling dust and ash.

A deafening crack tore through the air as a vivid surge of green emerald lightning erupted from the heavens, descending upon the roof of the venue with explosive force. The blast of energy painted the sky with a blinding flash of green as it crashed into the building, sending broken glass and wood raining down upon the venue.

Cursing, Elizan moved you both aside, a large chunk of debris hurtling past, narrowly missing your startled form. As more debris crashed down, he shielded you with an outstretched arm, a shimmering barrier briefly forming to deflect a particularly large piece of wood.

"Spectral pest," Malleus seethed, his eyes aglow with an eerie green hue as his nails elongated into sharp claws. With a click of his tongue, he raised his hands, summoning thorns that spiraled towards Elizan, ensnaring the ghost in their sharp embrace. Simultaneously, from the floorboards below, vines emerged like serpents, their tendrils gently but firmly pulling you away from Elizan's protective embrace and guiding you into the safety of Malleus's arms.

"How—?! Ngh!" Elizan writhed against the thorny vines. The prickly tendrils twisted around him like serpents, their sharp points digging into his ghostly flesh.

Malleus paid no mind to the struggling spirit, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he checked for any signs of harm. His expression softened with relief upon finding you unscathed, albeit a bit dusty.

"Beloved," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm amidst the lingering chaos. His gloved hand moved delicately, sweeping away the clinging dust from your shoulders and arms. Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingered there briefly, conveying a warmth that contrasted starkly with the raw power he had displayed moments ago.

"Are you alright?"

Blinking up at him with wide eyes and frazzled hair shooting up in every direction, you nodded dumbly. Turning away from him, you nearly gasped aloud to see the room in shambles, debris scattered everywhere, and the eerie green glow of energy still lingering in the air. The ghostly residents were in a state of panic, their translucent forms flickering as they moved frantically.

"My dorm," you whimpered, your mind racing as you calculated the cost of the damage.

With a chuckle, Malleus adjusted his grip on you, his muscles flexing as he gently set you down. Your legs felt shaky as you tried to steady yourself.

"I will handle the cost of repair, my dearest," Malleus assured you, bending down to your height, his voice dropping to a whisper. Green eyes bore into yours, strands of his midnight hair falling over his face. "You will not need to worry about such things once we are formally betrothed."

You froze, your face suddenly warming and burning.

"What?!"

Malleus reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek, claws dragging across your supple cheeks. "Yes, my dear," he murmured, chest rumbling as his lips curved into a sharp smile. "You heard me correctly."

"I… I don't know what to say," you whispered, feeling dizzy with emotion.

"Will you consider it?" he asked softly, a faint hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Please?"

Caught in the depth of his gaze, you felt your resolve melting away. "I-I guess?" you breathed, your voice trembling. "I'll… consider it."

A smug smile spread across his face, and he tenderly pressed his lips against yours. "That's all I ask, my dearest."

After ensuring you were alright one last time, Malleus redirected his focus to Elizan. With a flick of his wrist, the thorns under his control tightened around the ghost. Elizan shrieked and thrashed about, his translucent form writhing in pain as the thorns dug deeper.

"Do try to exercise some restraint, my boy," Lilia drawled, tapping his sharp fingers idly against his crossed arms. "We do not want Ramshackle to be bathed in blood. It would be very unsanitary."

not too sure if i am continuing but feel free to suggest some peepl bookies

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader (2)

contents: tooth-rotting fluff. arranged marriage au. sylus as your sweet and doting husband who's simply in love with you and anything that you do. 1.5k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ thank you for everyone's patience who requested a part two!! I truly hope this meets your expectations <3

part one here. ꒱

⭒ You’re an early bird married to a night owl. After gradually moving your belongings into Sylus’ master bedroom, your different sleeping schedules were made acutely aware. His day is just beginning when you’re heading to bed and he’s more or less mentally retired after a long night of business dealings and meetings when your body decidedly rises with the first rays of light at dawn. Because of this, you both compromise to meet somewhere in the middle—Sylus sweetly tucks you in later than your usual bedtime and leaves only when you’d fallen asleep, and you snuggle with him in the mornings until the very last minute and you’re forced to get ready for the working day. However, his sleeping patterns are more on the irregular side and he’ll check in on you when he’s supposed to be resting.

⭒ When Luke and Kieran witness you and Sylus bid each other with a goodbye kiss—an affectionate and wholesome display between lovers as your husband sees you off to work at the front door, they are stunned and lose it from the sidelines at the budding romance. “Wait, what just happened?” “Was there a development while we were gone?” The crow twins would share glances and decipher the scene before them together. They both have been rooting for you and their boss since day one, and they marvel at the way you both are completely smitten with each other. As though you two are like newlyweds who can't get enough of your shared love, unwilling to separate just yet even as you slowly step away from Sylus.

⭒ His touch linger with purpose to hold onto every last part of you and his hands move from your waist and slide down your arms to hold your hands until his fingers curl slightly and mourn the loss of your warmth when he eventually has to let you go. When Sylus watches your figure disappear and return back inside his home he receives a thumbs up and pending double high fives respectively from his two henchmen. He walks past them and ignores their antics by giving them orders, but Luke doesn’t leave his brother hanging and celebrates that their boss is officially and undeniably in love.

⭒ Anniversaries were an unexpected thing to celebrate with Sylus—along with holidays and birthdays. You were caught by surprise when you received a gorgeous dress and pearls inside a pretty wrapped box adorned with ribbons after being married to Sylus for three months. You weren’t quite romantically involved with him at that point and went along with what he planned for the evening, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just a performance for the public at an upscale restaurant but he genuinely wanted to make this night special for you. Then something in the air shifted and became sweeter and you suppose you wanted to start making the smaller things in life count. Even if there wasn’t a particular milestone coming up, you decide to make one up yourself. After all, there’s a true saying that the secret to marriage is keeping it fresh and interesting.

⭒ With the help of the cute twins, they set up a cozy tent in the verdant space of the garden meanwhile you decorate fairy lights all around in swooping arcs and tight lines, arrange pillows and blankets inside, and place a deck of kitty cards in the center. After everything is where you need it to be, you show the boys your gratitude and send them away as you work on the finishing touches. You gather the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and two glasses for the red wine when suddenly your husband sneaks up from behind you and wrap himself around you, inquiring about how the twins wanted him to come find you… Oh those cheeky little things. Well, never mind them. “Don’t tell me that you forgot what today is. Happy 300 days since our first kiss, baby.” You admit that it may come off as a little silly and no one’s truly keeping count, but you simply wanted to do something nice for him.

⭒ Sylus never passes up an opportunity to take care of his darling wife. Even if that means going along with your unusual ideas like you suggesting to borrow his dress shoes after the auction show was over. He throws you a puzzled look followed by a bemuse chuckle, and he supposes he could oblige if that’s what you really wanted. You explain to him that being well dressed from head to toe to match his outfit came at the price of your painfully, aching feet. And he can’t resist giving into your demands when you ask with such adorable little pouts. There are more practical methods to go about the situation, but he certainly loves humoring you even if things don't work out the way you thought they would.

⭒ Sylus leads you to a nearby bench and gestures for you to have a seat while he removes his shoes and bends down on one knee before you, unworried about dirtying his expensive trousers. He works diligently to undo the straps around your ankles and place your heels aside to focus on slipping his shoes onto your feet. “Well, you look quite fetching in my shoes. Now shall we continue our walk or do you have any more requests to make?” He helps you straighten yourself as he returns to his normal height. You huff and make a discontent noise when you almost trip over your own two feet trying to take a step forward in your (his) much too large and too spacious shoes. “Actually, these won’t do. I changed my mind, I want my heels back.”

⭒ Sylus chuckles at your hopeless attempt, his hand going on your hip to keep you from toppling over and accidentally hurting yourself. “Ah, it appears my shoes are too big for you, kitten. You say you want your heels back, hm?” He kneels before you once more as he retrieves your pair of heels, his fingers brushing along the underside of your leg and he carefully tugs them back on your feet. He gives your ankle a gentle squeeze as he finishes securing the straps, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. "There, I hope you're satisfied now, my sweet wife." His arm then goes around your waist and he effortlessly lifts you off the ground without so much as a warning. He smirks at your precious reaction, your body flushed against his meanwhile your arms encircle his neck for balance. “Why don’t I just carry you the rest of the way instead?”

⭒ You’re snuggled up against Sylus’ chest as you bring a concern to his attention one night. “What happens when our arrangement comes to an end?” The main reason you agreed to marry him in the first place is because it was a contract marriage with a specific time frame of five years that you’d have to spend with him. And you realize that with everything he does, he’s always been considerate of you as a whole even with how he drafted this contract knowing that it could end at his own expense. He provided you with a means of freeing yourself from him if you for whatever reason wished to no longer continue your marriage with him after the term ends. The choice is left entirely up to you because he never wanted you to feel trapped but he won’t make it easy for you. “If I decided to leave, you’d really let me go?”

⭒ Sylus hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on you and he seems to be thinking about something as his expression grows serious. “You always know how to ask the tough questions, don’t you sweetie?” After a moment, he lets out a small sigh and nods. “…Yes. Technically, you’ll be free to go. I won’t stop you if you truly want to leave.” Another sigh escapes him, yet his voice remains soft and sincere and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his palm cradles your cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay. What do you want to happen when the contract ends, darling?”

⭒ You mull over your thoughts, teasing him with a pensive look as you purposely drag on the seconds. “Since you’re leaving it up to me, I think… I want to renew our vows at the five-year mark. How’s that sound?” A surprise and slight disbelief flit across his face at the same moment his countenance softens at your affirmation. “You want to renew our vows?” You offer him a demure nod with your sweet smile and he gently takes your hand in his, bringing it to his face and laying a kiss against your knuckles. “Then it’s settled. I would be honored to renew our vows when the time comes. There will be no more contracts or strings attached. We’ll be bound by our love and our love only.”

[zhukzucraft]

=====>

The outcome was never really in doubt. You emerge victorious.

Jimmy: Dude! You did it so clean!

Joe: Truly, valorous rescue worthy of a song.

Joe: Now if you'll excuse me - hup!

Joe: I need to gather the wheat. The food situation is dire.

Martyn: (Hear that?)

Jimmy: (What?)

Martyn: (He's up for a midnight snack and scared of a little Creeper damage? Now who does that remind you of?)

Jimmy: (You don't think... We could be...?)

Martyn: (I'd say there's a pretty good chance dude)

Jimmy: (!! I need to make a better impression!!)

Jimmy: Hey, hey, Joe! It's Joe, right?

Martyn: (wow doing great there Jimmy)

Martyn: Ahem! So I don't think we ever got properly introduced-

Jimmy: -I'm Jimmy! This is Martyn! Man it's so nice to have you here-

Martyn: -You're not mad about being called a noob, right? Of course you're not, you seem like a chill guy-

Jimmy: -Are you down to 4 hearts right now, by any chance?

Jimmy: If you are, let me just start by saying I'm very sorry, I swear this doesn't usually... happen. to me...

Jimmy: Hey, did I mention I really like your hat??

Joe: Whoa whoa whoa

Joe: I think there's been a mixup.

Joe: You're trying to ask if I'm your soulmate, right? Sorry, but I'm, uh, already spoken for.

Jimmy: I'll just. Go over there and cook the fish over the campfire now. Yeah.

Joe: Aw don't be like that! You guys did help out! Let me repay you somehow.

Joe: ...As long as it's not with food.

Martyn: Uhh, sure, why not. If you insist.

Martyn: Got any diamonds to spare?

Joe: Haha, going straight for the big one, eh?

Joe: Well, who knows, actually! The fellas might've unearthed some. Maybe they will even share them in the spirit of mutual aid!

Martyn: (If only)

Martyn: Jimmyyy, we're going underground, you coming?

Jimmy: Just a secooond! I'll come join when the fish is cooked!

Jimmy: (And when everyone has hopefully forgotten this interaction)

=====>

Start Over -- Go Back

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

btw brackets () indicate whispering

just

wanted to make sure it was made clear ;;;

k thanks for your patience!!

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

You know how in the movie, Miles mom gets angry when he says, ‘whatever’ can you do that with latina!wife for Miguel?

𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader

Summary: Miguel hasn't had a proper night's rest in days, and quite frankly you missed him. Too bad he's too swamped with work to notice.

Warnings: None! Just a silly lil fic.

⚝

You know those days where you’re just teetering on the edge? It could be for absolutely no reason at all, or maybe a collection of things, all you knew was that it just makes every action you take frustrating.

Well, that was you today.

Granted it wasn’t for no reason. Yesterday, Miguel had promised to come back home for dinner and sleep in his own bed, because for the last few days he had been swamped with work and mission reports. You understood the work he did was important, truly, but you missed him. That, and he was a chronic overworker who would only stop when he collapsed from exhaustion, and you were not going to let it get to that point.

It was getting tiring having to beg him to come back to rest, even for a moment. Spider powers or not, everyone needs a break.

“Uh oh…” you hear Lyla say as you march into the monitoring room, but you continue to press onward.

“Miguel!” you call up to him, but he doesn’t even bother turning around to face you, rummaging through papers and swiping through screens.

“Querida, is there something you need?” he asks nonchalantly like nothing was wrong.

“Yes! There is, actually. What happened to coming home yesterday, hm~?” you say, irritation rising in your voice.

“Oh…is it already the next day?” he asks, still not looking toward you. “I’m sorry, vida mía. I guess I got carried away, I’ll try to be back later alright?” he says, trying to placate you.

“You can’t keep going on like this Miguel, it’s not healthy. One evening of a break won’t hurt. Hell, I’ll even help you out with paperwork, and Lyla can too. So come home tonight, alright? For me, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says without thinking, only half listening to you.

“Excuse me?” you say, your voice stone cold and immediately Miguel stiffens, slowly turning toward you with a sheepish look on his face.

“Vida mía,” he says, his expression apologetic as his platform begins to lower to the floor. You don’t have the patience to wait for it though, choosing to swing up with your webs and meet him at his level.

“Miguel O'Hara, who do you think you’re talking to?" you say lowly. "I’m not one of your subordinates, I am your wife,” Your hands are planted on your hips as you look up at him annoyedly.

“I know, I know,” he says hurriedly, “I’m sorry. I said it without thinking.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. We’re going home, now,” you say, grabbing his hand and leaving no room for argument. “Lyla, have Jess take over for the rest of today, alright?”

“Aye, aye, captain!” she says, snickering at the interaction between the two of you.

“Querida, there’s still so much work I have to do,” he says, resisting your pull but you continue to drag you along.

“Should have thought of that before you said ‘whatever’ to me, Miguel,” you say, but sigh. “I’m only trying to look out for you, is that so bad?”

He pauses, studying your worried expression that was because of him. It caused a wave of guilt to wash over him after he disregarded your care for work instead.

“I know…alright, let’s go home sweetheart,” he says, finally relenting as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Immediately you light up, grasping his hand tighter.

“I’ll make your favourite today, and we can take a bath later if you’d like?” you suggest.

“I would love that, tesoro.”

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @phobia0325, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @raweggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana--belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @phobia0325, @honeii-puff, @ieatmunson

[theharddeck]

do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone. 

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit. 

But. 

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app. 

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do. 

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play. 

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones. 

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena. 

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you. 

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy. 

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer. 

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter. 

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering. 

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.  

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip. 

Why did guys in real life never moan? 

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure. 

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low. 

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only. 

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you. 

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste? 

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy,  acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin. 

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.” 

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his. 

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?” 

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper. 

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you. 

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper. 

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him. 

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?” 

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds. 

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you. 

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you. 

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly. 

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl. 

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy. 

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?” 

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against. 

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded. 

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.” 

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect. 

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there. 

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow. 

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.  

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to. 

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear. 

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set. 

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you. 

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door. 

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time. 

Some might even say, with a pep in your step. 

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed. 

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat. 

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly. 

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on. 

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing). 

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person. 

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets. 

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration. 

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze. 

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too. 

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise. 

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips. 

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago. 

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.” 

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock. 

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms. 

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it). 

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal. 

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before?? 

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot. 

A knock on your door startled you. 

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically. 

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door. 

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused. 

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it. 

He looked the same. 

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you. 

Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills. 

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them. 

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral. 

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away. 

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse. 

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room. 

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced. 

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t. 

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room. 

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again. 

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it. 

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep. 

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react. 

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation. 

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again. 

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you. 

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly. 

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him. 

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob. 

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway. 

Of course he did. 

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately. 

Objectively, Bob was the best. 

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you. 

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you. 

He pushed himself off the bed. 

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either. 

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay. 

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it. 

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question. 

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break. 

You kissed him. 

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer. 

He was so soft. 

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him. 

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention. 

“Can I show you?” you asked. 

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry. 

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely. 

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous. 

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him. 

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard. 

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.  

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on. 

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze. 

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently. 

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you. 

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually. 

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked. 

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob. 

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered. 

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them. 

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett. 

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard. 

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him. 

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need. 

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch. 

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission. 

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations. 

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing. 

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing. 

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it. 

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric. 

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob. 

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again. 

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob. 

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering. 

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob. 

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking. 

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did. 

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled. 

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him. 

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.” 

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him. 

It was better with him. 

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing. 

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good. 

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there. 

You felt like you were floating. 

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him. 

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he? 

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life. 

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right. 

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips. 

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you. 

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself. 

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner. 

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin. 

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin. 

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned. 

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.” 

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had. 

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless. 

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered. 

He wasn’t done, either. 

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…” 

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses. 

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man. 

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace. 

You loved the feeling of his skin. 

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you. 

Fuck. 

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders. 

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric. 

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. 

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him. 

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick. 

Holy. Shit. 

He looked like a work of art. 

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big. 

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl. 

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky. 

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat. 

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again. 

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it. 

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact. 

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you. 

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him. 

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them. 

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking. 

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster. 

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much. 

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly. 

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot. 

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you. 

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more. 

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn. 

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect. 

Fuck, he felt so good. 

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon. 

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked. 

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.  

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.  

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything. 

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop. 

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.  

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying. 

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core. 

He knew, somehow. 

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising. 

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…” 

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him. 

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back. 

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop. 

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant. 

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him. 

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips. 

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you. 

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you. 

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips. 

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher. 

And then. 

And then he got close. 

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you. 

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it. 

When you came back, you were on your side. 

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.  

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction. 

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. 

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

//

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen ����

[fae-of-fiction]

✧ — 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞! ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

✧ — 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬; isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

✧ — had this sitting in my drafts, and seeing as writer’s block has me in the absolute worst of chokeholds right now, i thought i may as well go ahead and post it while i try to get past this random blockage. i just want to give a huge thank you to everyone who has sent in a request for your unending patience — i promise i will get them done asap!

✧ — 617 words

✧ — this is a sort of companion piece to ‘cutie pie’ (though it’s absolutely not required to read that one!) i just know that these boyos have cute lil habits that they do! as always, thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy! <3

isagi stutters horribly when he’s nervous. he’ll trip over words, consonants, syllables — literally everything.

it’s as if his ability to speak has just completely abandoned him, and it’s the cutest thing to see — especially when his cheeks flare up and he can’t meet your eyes.

isagi still does this even after your relationship has deepened, particularly if you do something that he finds incredibly stimulating — he turns into a stutter-y, buttery, mumbling mess, and teasing him is just too easy when he’s in this state.

just tread lightly if you do so, because once isagi gathers himself, he’ll return your teasing ten fold.

rin becomes absolutely pouty when you don’t refer to him by a pet name — sometimes, he may even think you’re angry with him, and will start to “subtly” pester you to get to the root of the issue.

of course, rin denies this profusely; which is also incredibly cute, because all the while he’s refuting the claims his cheeks are quickly coloring. it’s certainly a shocker for him to become so upset about it, especially since he seemed so indifferent when you had first picked up the habit — rin wouldn’t so much as blink an eye when you called him “babe” or “baby.”

but now if you don’t, rin will do everything in his power to make you do so again; discreetly, of course.

sae has a quirky habit of playing with your fingers.

you aren’t entirely sure if it’s simply something subconscious or a way to deal with excess energy, but it’s cute nonetheless. sae will actively seek your hand just to fiddle with your fingers.

he does it when you’re holding hands, when you’re sitting or laying next to one another, when you’re walking; it truly doesn’t matter what you’re doing — as long as you’re around him, sae is playing with your fingers.

it’s actually incredibly relaxing when he does this, for both you and sae.

when talking about video game lore or random trivia, nagi lights up like a kid in a candy store.

it’s rare to see him so enthusiastic and fired up about something, and so you always indulge him. wether it’s through an inquiry as to what he’s currently playing or asking him for game recommendations, you always ensure to prod at his interest.

nagi also becomes exceptionally happy when you ask him for his help with a game you’re playing, and he likes to crowd as close as possible to you while he guides you. sometimes it’s pretty difficult to concentrate on the game with his cologne in your nose, his warmth against your skin and his voice in your ear — but you manage pretty well for the most part.

after all, you just want to see his cute enthusiasm. (mostly.)

kaiser absolutely cannot handle his liquor; the man gets drunk off of a singular glass of wine. and when kaiser is drunk, he’s extremely affectionate — more so than usual.

he’s never been one to shy away from being vulnerable when the two of you are secure in the presence of just one another, but when he’s drunk — kaiser really doesn’t care who sees the lovestruck, sickly sweet, doting and slightly overbearing boyfriend that he truly is.

“c’mon, baaaaabe. one more kiss, ‘kay? jus’ one. please?” kaiser will whine while he practically hangs off of you, completely blind to the dumbstruck audience his antics have attracted.

you’ll have to placate him — you really can’t help but to do so, he looks so cute when he’s vulnerable like that. not to mention, he looks at you absolutely awestruck when you do, and slurs away happily about how perfect you are, and how lucky he is to have you.

[darling-flora]

main thing 4

lewis hamilton x yn model - social media au

[part 1]

[part 2]

[part 3]

[part 4]

fc : bella hadid

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

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

yourinstagram

Liked by lewishamilton, devonleecarlson and 16,159,944 others

yourinstagram i've been some taking time off after a jaw infection caused my lyme disease flare up. But im thankful to my mama for sticking by me , protecting, supporting , but most of all, believing me through all of this.

Thank you for the patience of the incredible company’s that I work for , my supporters and the people who continued to check in. My lovely love of my life lewis for being there for me when he could, and getting me my little pup bowie to keep me company.

Thank you to my genius Dr, and her INCREDIBLE team of nurses. I love you SO much!!!

I’ll be back when I’m ready

I miss you all so much

I love you all so much

view all comments

lhamfan28 oh wow that's why she's been gone... glad you're getting better y/n !!

yoursister ❤

↳yourinstagram ❤❤

lhamfan81 hope you feel better angel !!

lewishamilton im so proud of you for being so strong! i love more than you'll ever know bby ❤

↳yourinstagram thank you for being there lew !! love you so much 🫶

ynlvrr44 sending so much love your way ❤

carmenmmundt So glad your doing better 🫶

↳yourinstagram ❤

devonleecarlson love you love you, im so blown away by your strength ❤🙌

liked by yourinstagram

ynfan81 glad you have such a strong support system to help you through this 🫶

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

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

yndaily

Liked by lhamfan28, ynfan81 and 578,981 others

yndaily Y/n is in the paddock for qualifying in silverstone along with her dog Bowie !! Y/n is watching from Lewis’ driver room !

view all comments

ynfan1 MOTHER IS BACK !!

ynfan3 oh she's serving

ynhamfan9 the custom denim jacket with 44 patches eats !!!!

ynfan5 she looks so good !!!!

lhamfan2 y/n is here ? we are soooo getting a lewis podium

f1fan8 with y/n back for the first time this season i expect a lewis win....

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

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

yndaily

Liked by lhamfan28, ynfan81 and 578,981 others

yndaily Y/n arriving for the race in silverstone !! Y/n is watching from the Mercedes garage !

view all comments

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

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

yourinstagram

Liked by lewishamilton, devonleecarlson and 16,159,944 others

yourinstagram LEWIS WON !!! truly speechless after a day filled with happy tears !! lewis im so proud of you, after almost two years you still find ways to amaze me with your ability to overcome the pressures you face everyday but your dedication and love for this sport pushes you to be better everyday !! i love you so so so much 🤍

view all comments

lhamfan1 HUH 2 YEARS ???? i thought it was just a year ??!?

lewishamilton Thank you y/n for being with me and being there for be, i love you more than words can explain 🤍

↳yourinstagram i love you bby !! 🤍

ynfan2 tears in my eye's these two are so cute

devonleecarlson happy girl !!!!!

yoursister what a day 😪❤

↳yourinstagram ❤❤

ynhamfan44 the first picture 😭

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

lewishamilton

Liked by yourinstagram, georgerussell63 and 20,559,944 others

lewishamilton YES 🍾🍾🍾 945 days since the last win and it’s finally come home. SILVERSTONE I LOVE YOU. There’s no crowd that deserves this more. This is love, this is family. Thank you all for the love and support. Massive shout to the team as well. Everyone in the garage and back at the factory have given long hard hours for this result. It’s not been easy but it’s brought us back to back wins for the team. Most importantly we didn’t lose hope. We didn’t give up. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU KEEP GOING. STILL WE RISE 🇬🇧🏆❤️ !!!

view all comments

lhamfan2 cried every lap he lead the race

yourinstagram im so proud of you mi amor i love you so much 🤍

↳lewishamilton love you my pretty girl 🤍

ynfan1 a ring on y/n's finger is missing from the second picture

fencer 104 wins !!! lets goooo

mercfan7 what a race !!!

georgerussell63 Well deserved !!! 👊🏻

ynfan62 you can always tell how much it means to lewis when he wins !!! MY GOAT 🐐

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

pagesix

Liked by lhamfan18, ynfan71 and 978,981 others

pagesix Engaged? Only day's after Lewis Hamilton inherited the win in Belgium, which was the 105th of his career, the racer and supermodel Y/n L/n she's seen around England (after a week in Italy) sporting a ring on her ring finger.

While there hasn't been any official confirmation from their representatives, we can't help but speculate about the importance of the ring.

view all comments

ynfan2 omg omg i've been waiting for this

lhamfan4 please been an engagement ring 🙏

ynhamfan1 they're sooooooooo in love, so i wouldn't be surprised but i'd love it !!

f1fan3 a week in italy then seen with a ring ....? they're def engaged

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

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

yourinstagram

Liked by lewishamilton, devonleecarlson and 19,159,944 others

yourinstagram The easiest yes, endlessly in love with you 🤍

view all comments

lewishamilton My fiancée 🤍

lewishamilton Love you beautiful 🤍

↳yourinstagram i love you fiancé !! 🤍

devonleecarlson tears in my eyes

liked by yourinstagram

yoursister baby khai misses you two !! she love's her uncle (officially) lewis 😇

↳yourinstagram awwe we'll visit soon, love you !! 💞

carmenmmundt Oh im so happy for you two !!! ❤

↳yourinstagram ty ty !!!! ❤

ynhamlvrr44 my heart can't handle this !! 😭

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

lewishamilton

Liked by yourinstagram, georgerussell63 and 24,559,944 others

lewishamilton Looking forward to forever with you, I look at you everyday and I know I'm home 🤍

view all comments

yourinstagram love you handsome !! 😘💞

↳lewishamilton Love you love you love you forever my pretty girl !!! ❤

mercedesamgf1 Congrats !! ❤💍

georgerussell63 Congratulations to the future bride and groom! 🎉

sebastianvettel Congratulations on your engagement! You and y/n are made for each other. ❤

ynfan6 so happy for these two they truly make each other so happy !!

valtteribottas Wishing you a very long and happy life together.

mickschumacher Cheers to many happy years ahead, congratulations to you both!

f1fan1 never thought i'd seen the day lewis got engaged but they seem perfect for each other

scuderiaferrari Congratulations on your engagement! We're so excited for you both.

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

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: idol!mingyu x idol!reader, 97 liner reader, best friends to lovers, jealousy, possessiveness, reader's got bitches, afab reader, smut, dry humping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, very ambiguous description of what position they're in so pls go crazy with ur imagination, etc.

part 2

wc: 2730

a/n: thank u to the person that requested this i live for idol ausshsks also this isnt connected to my other idol!mingyu fics just fyi <3

masterlist

mingyu couldnt stand the sight in front of him anymore. he knew jungkook was charming, but for him to blatantly flirt with you in front of him was just going too far for his liking.

admittedly, mingyu knew that most of the other 97 liners had a bit of a thing for you, but it was common knowledge that mingyu had been pining for you for the longest time. there was an unspoken agreement; you were his. you'd been best friends basically since debuting, it was only fair that he got to have you over all your other friends.

except you were blissfully unaware of his feelings. you'd known each other for so long that you now chalked up his flirting to just a silly inside joke between the two of you. no matter how many advancements he made, you'd act none the wiser and keep him on a tight hold in the friend zone. yes, mingyu knew the friend zone wasn't a real thing. he understood women! but there was no better way to describe his current predicament. now he had to watch one of his best friends flirt with the love of his life. the only silver lining in all this was that you never flirted back. whether it be jaehyun paying for your meal, or yugyeom bringing you a drink in the morning, you never took it as anything further than friendship.

except right now you seemed to be ... reciprocating? was that your hand on jungkook's chest? what was happening right now? you never showed interest in jungkook. why were you now dangling a flirtatious smile right in front of mingyu's face? and not directed at him?

he could only sit there and watch you for so long until he grew tired of it. he wasn't ready to drag you away and profess his feelings for you just yet, but his emotions got the best of him, marching towards you as he grabbed your arm and walked you to a more secluded area, leaving jungkook to lightheartedly chuckle at his friend's possessive nature over you.

yes, jungkook might've had a thing for you before, but truly all he had wanted was to just provoke mingyu. he knew you werent actually flirting back but just playing along with him - as a friend, of course. and it seemed to have worked, as mingyu was now dragging a very unsuspecting you away as you followed with no questions asked.

mingyu only let go of you when you were finally alone, with a closed door to separate you from any possible intruders. he didn't say anything at first, wanting to calm himself down from his exasperated state before speaking up. he also had to think of an excuse as to why he took you away from jungkook just now.

"mingyu? what the hell was that?", okay, seemed like you didn't have the patience to wait for him. understandable.

"i- just ... why-why were you flirting with him?"

"what? i wasnt flirting. thats just how we talk to each other, you know that. you're the same way!"

"oh yeah? with your hand on his chest?", he chuckled bitterly. okay, he was taking this a little too personal. but how couldnt he? he'd been waiting for you to look his way all this years and instead you turn to his friend? any time he flirted with you you scolded him or just brushed him off, but you reciprocated his friend? this was nothing short of unfair in mingyu's eyes.

"mingyu. don't be so dramatic. it doesnt mean anything."

"okay, but what if it means something to me?"

"what? what do you mean?"

you were confused. and with good reason. despite what everyone else believed, he had been quite good at hiding his feelings from you. yeah, sure, he flirted with you and acted overly affectionate, but that was his just his personality. as you had just said, he was the same way with everyone. but what you hadnt known was that he always meant it when it came to you. his flirtatious advances? his words of affection? the longing gazes? they were all purposeful and completely sincere. and now he was just too fed up. he had waited too long, had watched from the sidelines as you went through any and every relationship and situationship that headed your way. seeing you blatantly flirt with jungkook had been more than enough to make him finally snap into action.

"do you really not see it?"

"see what?"

he gave you a sad smile, "the way i look at you. the way i touch you. the way i can never stay away for too long ... how much i like you."

"gyu, what? i-" you stared dumbfounded at him, attempting to question him, but he interrupted you in order to continue the speech that his heart was demanding him to deliver.

"its been so many years since- ive liked you since the moment we met. i thought it was obvious. i mean, all the guys know about it," he chuckled sadly before continuing, "i guess its hard to tell with all the other boys chasing after you. you have your options open. i'm sorry. i don't mean to push this on you. just seeing you with jungkook made me so- god. i just couldnt watch it. not with him. ive seen you through all your boyfriends, but i just cant stand the sight of you with someone else anymore, i-"

thats as far as he got when you tackled him. or, well, tried to. he was pretty big after all.

you jumped him, pulling his face to yours to plant a kiss on him, refusing to separate even when he yelped in surprise. it only took a few seconds for him to catch up, holding you in his arms as he returned the kiss enthusiastically, moaning against your mouth at the feeling.

the two of you kissed for a bit, up until you pulled away from him, chuckling against him when he whined and followed your lips with his, only for you to pat him away as you giggled at him.

"gyu ... i had no idea. you shouldve told me. ive liked you too. since we met, i mean," you flashed him a shy smile at your revelation.

"y-you have?!"

"yes, gyu. how can i not? you're so ... you," you neared him once more as you said this, your eyes never leaving his. he felt butterflies in his stomach at the way you were looking at him. there was so much adoration in your eyes. it was reminiscent of the way he looked at you whenever you werent watching.

he closed the gap between you again, this time simply holding you in his arms, caressing you softly as he laughed at the situation. he wasnt sure how to proceed now that he had this new information, but he felt himself being drawn closer to you as you both smiled fondly at each other. it was a very tender moment, really. not many words needed to be exchanged to convey how you two were feeling.

~

the juxtaposition was funny, really. you had just been tenderly exchanging words of affirmation as you revealed your crushes to each other, and now you were, well, not being quite as tender anymore.

it was only to be expected, specially for mingyu. he insisted that even if you had liked him back, he had pined after you even more. even after a back and forth about it, he wouldnt let go, saying he lived day and night thinking about you, and he had to compete with all his friends who also liked you (but not as much as him, of course).

the only moment in which you conceded was when mingyu had trapped you under his arms, only letting go to get on his knees in front of you, lifting the skirt of your dress in order to caress your thighs and pepper kisses on them before getting to work.

"g-gyu ..." the desperate swipes of his tongue had you lightheaded, your body limp against the wall while he knelt in front of you.

"always wanted to taste you ... fuck. you have no idea how long i waited for this," he could tell his words were affecting you as he felt you shove his head even closer to your cunt.

"yes ... fuck. ride my face, baby. want you to gush on my tongue," he was feeding off your cries and whines above him. even if he couldnt see you due to his head being quite literally hidden under your skirt, he could feel and hear all the effects he had on your body. it made an animalistic side of his come out.

he was beginning to feel lightheaded, growing extremely aroused at the sound of your voice and the feel of your hands burying themselves in his hair as you pushed up the skirt to get it out of the way, wanting direct contact with him. when he finally looked up, he truly lost his mind. the beautiful girl he had pined over for years; the girl of his dreams, had her head thrown back against the wall, practically crying at the feeling of his tongue licking at your folds. his favorite, however, was the way you mewled his name once he decided to play with your swollen bud, lightly tugging it between his teeth while he sucked and sucked.

"oh ... gyu ... please. you feel so .. ah! you're gonna make me come ..."

"'n im gonna lick it all up, baby. gonna lick it up and then im gonna bend you over the table and fill you up. yeah? gotta be fair, ba-fuck, gotta give you something too," mingyu adored how his threats to pound into you had your walls pulse against his tongue, growing drunk on the thought that you wanted him just as bad as he did you.

nothing compared to the sound of your cries as you came, with your hands desperately shoving his face into your cunt as you ground against him, no shame in the depravity of your actions. he adored how badly you wanted him, having no control of your movements as you cried and cried at the feeling of his tongue continuing to probe at you even through your orgasm.

when he got up, he knew his face mustve been a complete mess; hair pulled at all angles and chin dripping with your juices. you didn't seem to care, though, as your doe eyes looked into his own before pulling him towards you for a deep kiss. he couldnt help but groan into your mouth at the thought of you tasting yourself in his tongue. your pretty mewls of pleasure at him did not help in the least. without knowing, he had begun to grind his hardened length against your clothed core, making you become even louder in the process.

"y-you're so big. fuck ..." god, the simple thought of impaling you with his cock had him thanking all the gods for whatever it was that got him to this point.

he had thought about you every lonely night. every time he found himself alone in his various hotel rooms, dick in hand as he touched himself to completion. he'd felt bad about it at first, when you had barely become friends, but over the years he'd found he just wasnt able to help himself. he'd conjure up a pretty image in his head. you in a pretty little number just for him, lace covering your skin as he caressed every curve of your body, making you sigh against him with that pretty voice of yours. other times, however, his mind would be plagued with darker thoughts; thoughts of throwing you on the bed as he hammered his length into your cunt, not stopping even as you cried over the stimulation. and now he was here, with your beautiful eyes staring up at him, waiting for him to finally be proactive and make you his.

"gunna fuck you now, baby. okay? shit. been wanting you so fucking bad, you have no idea," he knew he wasnt being too coherent, but he just needed to get the point across. he could worry about tender love-making later into the relationship (because yes, he was going to make you officially his after finally getting his load deeply settled in your cunt), but now all he wanted was your tight walls around him, allowing him no room to breathe as you strangled his cock.

and strangle him you did. there had been no greater pleasure in mingyu's life than the moment his cock finally made its way through the tightness of your pussy. he was pretty sure anyone in the near vicinity couldve heard his loud groan of pleasure at the feeling of his dick being asphyxiated by your cunt, not even allowing him to move. the sight before him was one to behold. your pretty face in the most pleasurable state imaginable. your soft lips open while your eyes remained closed, brows furrowed at the feeling of his dick breaking through your walls.

"baby ... you're so fucking tight, my fucking god ..." he was completely out of breath, barely able to think as he pounded into you.

"did you know? all these years? how badly i wanted you? how i thought of you every single night?" he needed you to know. needed you to understand how much he'd longed for you, "my beautiful girl ... all mine now. none of them can have you .. never letting y-shit .. never letting you go."

"please ... want you so bad gyu ..." you didnt need to say much to get him spiraling, grabbing more tightly onto your hips as he pushed himself even deeper, wanting to increase the volume of your cries for me.

"yeah? made me wait so long for you, baby. couldve had you in bed every night. couldve kept you warm n taken care of you. couldve filled you up with cock every day," but the wasted time didnt matter now that he had you to his full disposition, knowing no one else would ever have you in the way he did now.

he fucked you with so much passion that you were unable to produce any words other than cries of his name. this filled him with pride, knowing your mind was empty of any thoughts that were not of him. none of your mutual friends could ever have you now. not jaehyun, not yugyeom, not dongmin. and not jungkook. you were now mingyu's, and he'd let everyone know.

once he finally filled you up with his load, marking you as his, he picked you up, taking you to the nearest bathroom in order to help clean up between your thighs. you both chuckled shyly at the situation, with the intensity having now died down a bit. he was a bit embarrassed by his possessive display now, but was also thankful of his jealous tendencies since they'd finally led him into your arms.

"gyu-"

"i love you," he interrupted you, eyes glued to yours with adoration behind them, "sorry, i just ... ive been in love with you since we met. just need you to know that. this wasnt some fluke or stupid jealousy. well, maybe some jealousy, but i truly do love you. be mine? please?," he hoped you'd take some pity on him. i mean, you did say that you liked him back, but he wanted love. he wanted you to feel emotions as strong as his. he needed you to be in love with him, to never look at another man, specially not jungk-

"i love you too," you responded, interrupting his internal rambling as you held onto his hands, "i wish you told me earlier. i thought i was going insane."

"you?! i had to watch all the guys flirt with you on the daily!"

"then you shouldve done something about it!"

"oh?", was that a challenge?, "want me to do something about it, baby? i'll show you," and with that, he picked you back up, taking you with him as he explained in detail how you'd have to go on a short hiatus while he made you his over and over again, refusing to let you leave his side for even one second. he had too much time to make up for.