#yeah I already feel vindictive and sleepy at the same time

[praseodykemium]

2:48 am 6 April 2024

tonight I ate a huge block of chocolate and I felt like killing myself. I'm not suicidal. My right thigh really aches where I sometimes cut it months ago. And now while writing, I feel like shitting myself because my stomach does this surrendering thing when I feel any strong emotions. I'm not even sure what emotion it is this time.

Sometimes I cry out of nowhere. The tears just come I am not in control of them. They are usually preceded by some screeching from me. I don't know why I do that either. I hurt my close ones doing that and I don't like it.

I don't have any friends I can talk to. Well I was talking to a friend in the evening (11pm) and the discussion kinda upset me (made me feel like a worthless creature who should cease from existence), and so I watched 6 episodes of Fleabag and related and laughed and felt a lot of things but mainly- "what am I doing with my life? Have I no ambition? I should be studying for an exam next year and not enjoying something" <— that (the last two sentences) was actually from the discussion with the friend.

She said we are all born equally smart. Some just work harder than others. And she compared me and meghna (who is ofcourse better than me despite me besting her in most of our school exams in 12th. She was a topper in 11th and I was not. I'm glad in a way that everyone remembers that. I really hated expectations. But yeah that kinda stung. It wasn't the main hit, far from it). She said that her parents and loads of other doctors work REAAALLY HARD and ARE PERRRRFECTLY HEALTHY (when I told her that over pressuring yourself with work is gonna bring a cerebral stroke and you'll die early and not get to enjoy any of your money and respect and freedom.)

SO THEN IN MY HEAD, MY STUPID MIND TWISTED THST SENTENCE AND MADE IT INTO "OH I CALLED YOUR BLUFF. YOURE JUST OVERREACTING. CEREBRAL STROKES ARE A MYTH BECAUSE OHHHHHH LOOK ST ME BOASTING MY SUPER FIT AND HEALTHY AND ALIVE PARENTS WHO WORK ALL DAY!!!!!" (I hope that everyone she thought of in that list of perfectly healthy and alive workaholics STAY HEALTHY AND WELL AND ALIVE. MAY SHE NEVER FIND OUT THAT BITTER BITTER BLOW THAT CHANGES YOUR PERCEPTION OF THE WORLD. MAY SHE NEVER LOSE HER PARENTS YOUNG. GOD BLESS EVERYONE SHE THOUGHT OF AND MORE 🛐)

BUT FUCK YOU VERSHA FOR SAYING THAT because unknowingly you touched a nerve I didn't even know I still had alive. FUCK ME. God I hate everything. I really relate to fleabag rn even though I have no qualifications other than my dad dying to feel relatable to her saying "I feel like crying. All the time."

Its been 3 years and I still haven't gotten over my drunk brother (cousin) molesting me at 15. Because we were really close at a point in time (YEARS OF FRIENDSHIP). AND I TRUSTED HIM MORE THAN ANYONE. I AM STILL NOT OVER IT.

i feel I was hypersexual from as long as I can remember. I had this repeating dream-vision-imagination thing that I am in a hospital lying with my lower body uncovered naked and the doctor calling in my super older than me ( when I was 15 he was 23 or something and the younger one was probably 21) cousin brothers— to come and stare at my genitals. I have had this dream thingy since as long as I can remember. It was often repeating in my head. I do not know why. I was assaulted YEARS later by the both of them on multiple separate occasions but that foreshadowing was thoroughly confusing and unasked for and really fucked up my childhood.

I have been masturbating since as long as I can remember as well. I don't know what's wrong with me. But I'm terrified of men. And I am terrified of being penetrated. I would rather die a virgin honestly. But I'm also really fucking horny all the time. But I really really really do not want anybody to touch my naked body ever.

whenever somebody invades (accidentally or otherwise) my personal space, I have this passive surrendering feeling wash over me like a drug. Like I know that I hate it, I'm aware of me hating someone doing that but it's just that twisted horny part of me or something else maybe i don't know that forces me to remain stationary like a soldier called to attention. I let the intrusive hand finger thigh do whatever the fuck it wants to do and I stay completely still. It's not supposed to be this way. I'm a strong (not really), adult (19 in June this year), aware (vividly aware of articles and awareness videos, Wikipedia and RAIIN articles about every sexual assault terminology, their after effects, mental disorders, percentages, everything) woman with a brown belt in karate. I should do better than this. But my STUPID FUCKING TWISTED MINDED BODY REFUSES TO SEE REASON AND FOLLOW THROUGH WITH MOVING AWAY. SO YEAH FUCK ME I GUESS IM NOT GONNA GIVD CONSENT BUT I CAN JUST STAND HERE AND BE A REALLY GOOD WANKING MATERIAL FOR YOU.

I have to sleep it's 3:27 am now. And I really hate Martin (Claire's i.e. fleabag's sister's husband) from Fleabag.

I think fleabag's therapist scene brought this rant on. And my right thigh really fucking hurts.

[todtart]

sleeby (anti x reader)

Description: Sometimes he crawls into your bed.

notes: this is like eating candy its so sweet WC: 604

+

Anti didn't need to sleep. You knew this. But sometimes, he would come crawling back to your house in the early morning hours, slinking silently into your room where you lay curled up amongst your pillows.

Your eyes remained blissfully shut as he hovered over you, scanning your sleeping form. Like every time, you were clutching onto your blankets and pillows, casting yourself over them like you were cuddling them. You probably were––the thought soured Anti's expression, and he decided that that just wouldn't do.

Moving quick and silently, he slipped the long pillows out of your encircled grip, and tossed it aside. You shifted, and a soft hum came from you. He paused and watched you intently, waiting for you to wake.

You did, just very slowly.

He quickly got tired of waiting, so as you began to peel your eyes open, he was already wriggling into your arms, hiding himself in the space previously reserved for the pillows. Craning his neck up to meet your eye, he found you smiling in a sleepy daze.

"Hello," you mumbled, still too tired to manage much else. "What are you doing?"

"Warming up."

You hummed a response that acknowledged him but didn't really believe him. He was always cold, and it never mattered to him, so why would it matter now?

Both of you fell silent for a little while, revelling in the slow, heated touches and the breathing of one another. In that time he noticed you fidgeting––this weird thing you did with your fingers, like you were feeling the material between them over and over again. It didn't bother him that you fidgeted; it only bothered him that you weren't fidgeting with him.

Unwilling to speak, he simply grabbed your hand and forced it into his hair, where your fingers automatically dug into the messy green locks. You giggled softly, and moved to tangle yourself further in his hair.

"Aww, are you upset that I'm not paying attention to you?" You asked, now lavishing him in your attention.

"No."

He paused when you stopped moving your hands.

"Well don't stop," he grumbled out.

He looked up, watching as you threw your head back and laughed, digging your fingers back in. There were a great many things he was willing to kill for; you were one. So was his knife. But there were few, if any, things he was willing to die for. The thought unsettled him in the same way it sent a fierce sense of protectiveness through him.

"You're adorable, sometimes," you said, your laughter fading into softer smiles.

"And other times?"

"Hot as fuck."

"Good," he said with a sharp-toothed grin. "Scary too, right?"

"Yeah," you nodded, "sometimes."

You brushed his hair off his face, holding his eye like it was something precious. How you managed to excite him with something soft was beyond his understanding––before you, it was only power and adrenaline.

"Do I scare you sometimes?"

"A little," you admitted. "But almost everyone does."

"What?" His brow furrowed deeply, his expression falling into a sudden sternness. "Who is it? Someone I know?"

"No, don't worry about it," you chuckled, shaking your head. "It's just my anxiety. It's nothing bad."

His frown didn't fade, but his grip on you lessened.

"Fine," he said reluctantly. "But if you need anyone –"

"I'll come get you," you said, pushing down his vindictive finger. "Don't worry. I know."

"... good."

He dug into you, hiding his face in your chest.

"I have to get up soon and shower," you reminded him. Your fingers continued to card through his hair.

"Not now."

"... alright," you chuckled softly.

[unlucky-rubber-ducky]

Nightmares

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

1300 words

Summary/warnings: Really rather sad, nightmares, mentions of earth but no actual death. Super cheesy. It’s late. Sappy ending. Super rushed.

A/N: Hello! I was just kind of messing around with this one. It’s not perfect but it’s always fun to write nightmares. School has also been wild, so I hope you can forgive the long periods of time between posting. A final ‘also’, please always feel free to request something! Thank you so much for reading!

You had never heard the temple so… silent. It was so silent. No masters quietly chiding their padawans, no younglings giggling as they made their way to their next class, no knights celebrating a successful mission. Nothing. Silence. 

Jedi lined the halls, creating a path and watching you as you walked by. You soon recognized the twists and turns were leading you to the council chambers, and the dread that had been creeping up on you fell like a rock in your stomach. 

You could see the door to the council at the end of the hallway, and you were screaming at your legs to stop, to turn around, to slow down- anything to delay whatever was going to happen once you entered that room. As you neared, you recognized the two figures standing guard at the door.

In Anakin’s eyes there was a fury you had only seen on the battlefield, directed at droids and enemy soldiers. But now the blazing fire was focused on you, and you were sure that if he could get away with it, you would be lying dead on the floor. His padawan stood next to him, deep disappointment and almost loathing in her eyes- ice, to contrast her master’s fire.

“What have you done?”

For a moment you didn’t recognize the voice that echoed through the silent halls of the temple. It sounded more vindictive than anything you had ever encountered, and you wondered how that much hatred could be stored in a person. 

“You will suffer.” Oh. You knew that voice. You spoke with it every day. “Greatly.”

The door whooshed open, and you were stepping into the council chambers.

You refused to meet any eyes, instead focusing on the singular empty chair. The chair usually filled by the one man you wished was present.

“Knight (Y/n). You have been charged with treason against the Galactic Republic, and the murder of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. How do you plead?”

If you hadn’t fallen in love with him he would still be alive. If you had never started this tryst he would still be alive. If you had loved him enough to leave he would still be alive. His death is your fault. You knew this could only end in tragedy.

You took a breath.

“Guilty.”

You gasped as you sat up. You tried to control your breathing, but tears quickly began rolling down your face. Soon you were sobbing, the terrible, guilty feeling in your chest refusing to accept that it was just a dream. Before your brain could catch up you were already out the door, darting the short distance from your quarters to Obi-Wan’s. You had to make sure he was alright. That he didn’t hate you. You didn’t even consider the fact that knocking on someone’s door at one in the morning wasn’t exactly couth.

Of course, that all came rushing back when he opened the door with a confused, sleepy expression and no shirt.

“I-I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have-”

“Were you crying?”

“I…” You tried to calm yourself as another wave of tears made their way down your face. Maker, why had you done this to yourself? It wasn’t like this was the first dream you had ever had, since the Clone Wars started it was only one of many- why was it this one that sent you crying and knocking on Obi-wan’s door? “I’m fine. I apologize for waking you, Obi-Wan.”

Before you could turn away, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his quarters. You protested as he sat you on the end of his bed, moving towards the kitchenette to get you a glass of water. You accepted with a watery smile.

“Now, darling, would you like to talk about why you were crying or watch a cheesy holodrama?” He smiled when you laughed just a little. “Ahsoka tells me the best ones play after midnight.”

His heart broke when you looked up at him from the cup in your hands. You looked so… lost. So sad and lost and desperate for comfort that you refused to ask for.

“Um, could we watch something? Or you can go back to bed, and I can leave, I just don’t want to be alone but I could probably go bother-”

“I promise that you are welcome here. Let’s see what’s on.”

You ended up settling on a reality show titled ‘The Real Smugglers of the Outer Rim’, it was dumb and required quite literally no critical thinking skills, which was exactly what you were looking for. His bed was small enough that your legs were pressed together, and you were painfully aware that Obi-Wan had yet to put a shirt on.

“I had a nightmare.”

“I understand. What took place?”

“I…” What could you say? I dreamt that my very real love for you somehow got you killed? That would be a lot to deal with. “I dreamt that you had died.”

You heard him take in a breath.

“I didn’t realize my death would distress you so.”

You turned to look at him, startled just a little when you met his eye.

“Obi-Wan. You’re not dumb.” His face went through multiple emotions in the span of seconds, and you turned your whole body to face him, suddenly itching to run away. Obi-Wan wasn’t dumb. He knew what you were telling him. In your own emotionally-repressed-Jedi-way, you were admitting feelings that you truly shouldn’t be admitting.

Your heart dropped for the second time that night. This was your dream. This was his downfall. Your downfall. How could you have walked into the exact situation your dream had just warned you about?

You jumped off of the bed, ripping yourself away from Obi-Wan, who looked even more startled than you. You couldn’t exactly blame him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just… I really shouldn’t have come. This was terrible. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you sleep. I can’t… I’m sorry for putting that on you.”

“Do you have… feelings for me, darling?”

“I- I don’t think-”

“Please.”

Oh, Maker. Your eyes filled with tears yet again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Please sit back down.” You tentatively sat on the edge of the bed, staying as far away from Obi-Wan as you could. “You likely know I… return your feelings, yes?”

You weren’t sure your heart could take any more.

“I honestly had no clue.”

“Oh.” Obi-wan blushed. “Anakin said it was obvious.”

“Obi-Wan.” His expression was serious again. “In my dream you died because I let myself care for you.”

“My dear, I…” He slowly raised his hands to cup your face, giving you every chance to back away. “I would much sooner die because you cared, than die knowing I could have loved you.” You placed your hands over his, pressing your face closer to his calloused hands. “Plus, not every dream is a vision from the future.”

You shared a soft smile. Obi-Wan was the first to break eye contact, glancing down at your lips in a silent question. You answered by leaning in and pressing your lips to his. You felt him smile into the kiss, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“Can I stay here for the night?”

“Of course you can, precious one.”

You moved to lay next to him in your previous position, but he easily pulled you up and on top of him. You giggled and rested your head on his chest, calm for the first time since you first woke up. You traced the light freckles that were dotted on his skin, almost in disbelief that the night had turned out this way.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

He began running his fingers through your hair.

“I promise, my love.”

[collecting-stories]

Girlfriend at the Time - t. 02 - Sarah Cameron

Summary: You and Sarah spend some time together in Philly and both of you struggle with your feelings. 

7 Scenes from the Same Summer Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

♡it’s like I can’t get enough, got me interested, so invested.♡

“Come here,” Sarah waved her hand for you to come toward her. She was standing on the other side of the small seating area in the back of the bodega you’d stopped in for soda. She stood by a shelf of snacks, shaking her hips jokingly as you walked over toward her. It was nearing midnight and despite the alcohol that you had taken in at Woody’s you had managed to drive to South street and walk to the bodega.  

“What?” You manuvered around one of the tables, holding yourself steady when one of your heels threatened to give out. “I’m gonna kill myself, I should’ve brought different shoes.”

“Yeah but at least you’ll look hot when you die.”

“Good point,” you laughed, finally reaching her, grabbing the shelf next to her for support. “Okay...what?”

Sarah looked back toward the register to make sure the cashier wasn’t watching the two of you before she turned back, placing a hand on the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. Your eyes went wide for a second before you closed them, kissing her back. You held onto her waist with your free hand, your fingers slipping beneath the mesh crop-top to brush along her skin.  

“I think you’re still drunk,” you teased when she pulled away.  

“Maybe a little,” she shrugged, “you look really pretty tonight.”

“Thank you, but let's get some food in you okay?” You took her hand in yours and walked to the counter to pay. You knew it was dangerous to play this game with her and you couldn’t deny that things had been different since North Carolina and Annie’s party.  

Despite Sarah’s claims that the two of you could go back to being just friends, and your agreement, it seemed almost impossible. You were sure that it was just because she was missing John B but Sarah had been increasingly affectionate with you. When you got to your house the previous night she’d even shrugged off sleeping in the same bed and you’d woken up to her cuddled up beside you.  

It was enough to have your head spinning and you tried to distract yourself from your feelings and her confusing behavior by allowing yourself to be roped into all her tourist ideas.  

✰

She had started first thing in the morning, leaning over you with her head on your arm and her arm around your waist, reading off a list she’d made on her phone of all the places she wanted to go in Philly.  

“...and the Rocky steps-” Sarah said, her lips brushing your arm. 

“Technically that’s the art museum.” You said, rolling over so that she was hovering over you. 

“Did Rocky run up the steps?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then it’s the Rocky steps.” She replied. 

“Sure.”

“Look, I do a great impression,” she said, running over to your bedroom window and leaning out, “yo Adrian!”

“Shut up, you lunatic!” You laughed, grabbing her t-shirt to pull her back into the room, “and Adrian is supposed to be in the window...Rocky was on the street.”

“Whatever.”

“What else?” You asked, busying yourself with finding clothes to wear while Sarah stripped out of her sleep shirt to change. Whether she was actively thinking about it or not you didn’t want to be that friend that leered at her friends.  

“The Italian market, the love sign, we can get our picture taken, uh, shopping...duh. A good like bar or something, South street...and Geno’s.”

“No Geno’s.” You shook your head.  

“What?”  

“No Geno’s...that shits for tourists. I mean, if you’re gonna go Geno’s or Pat’s then it’s Pat’s but if you’re legit it’s Jim’s.” You replied, glancing over at her as she shimmed into a pair of short shorts.

“So particular.”  

“We don’t have to do all this in one day you know?”  

“Yeah I know.” Sarah replied, “I need coffee before anything.”

✰

You spun on your stool, angling away from the counter and the tray that was holding your cheesesteak, to watching Sarah as she pulled her hair up away from her face.  

You’d left the bodega with her hand still in yours, walking down passed a few tattoo parlors and small businesses to the corner where Jim’s sat. Unimposing. There was already a line out the door and you had stepped into line with Sarah as she let go of your hand to wrap her arm around your waist. She kissed your cheek and leaned her head on your shoulder.  

“Getting sleepy?” You whispered.

“A little, I think it’s those shots I did.”

“Probably,” you laughed. She’d taken a round of shots with a guy who had a few years on her and a lot more alcohol tolerance. He’d told her that her and her girlfriend were so cute and she only said thanks as she blew you a kiss over her shoulder.  

When you finally got around the line you ordered for both of you, half supporting Sarah through the line while she told you that she didn’t understand a word of what you’d just said. You held the tray and pulled her to a spot upstairs, sitting along the window. Not too many other people were eating in at this hour and you relished the opportunity to be somewhere less crowded.  

“What?” Sarah asked, looking over at you. The glitter highlight she was wearing caught the fluorescent light, giving off a glow that was completely unfair after the two of you had spent the previous few hours dancing and drinking at Woody’s. You were sure you looked close to horrendous but she still looked gorgeous.  

“I don’t know how you’re not exhausted.” You laughed, “I’m literally gonna fall off this stool and die on the floor.”

“I’m getting my second wind.”  

“That’s like your twelfth wind.” You replied, choosing not to mention the kiss in the bodega.  

✰

After the Italian market and coffee Sarah had convinced you to drive to parkway so she could jog up the museum steps. She was determined to live her Rocky dream apparently, one she’d only started having that morning, and you were being roped into it.  

“Okay, ready.” Sarah asked, looking over at you, biting her bottom lip as she smiled.

“Ready.” You nodded.  

Sarah clicked the play button on her spotify, the familiar sound of the Rocky theme song playing through the speakers as the two of you ran up the stairs of the art museum. You could hear her breathing as she took the stairs beside you, trying to keep the pace as you made it to the top. The moment she was on the top platform she heaved a breath, leaning her hands on her knees. You stood beside her, catching your breath and taking a sip from your water bottle.

“I told you it was gonna be intense.”  

“Oh my god...no wonder Rocky was so good. That was brutal.” Sarah replied, clicking off her phone and taking the water from you. “Alright, take my picture.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, take my picture, I have to immortalize this moment.” She posed like Rocky at the top of the stairs and you took her picture.  

“You know I totally would’ve loved Rocky even more if he looked less like Sylvester Stallone.” You mentioned, looking through your phone at her. Short shorts and crop top, she looked like the perfect summer fantasy and you couldn’t help wishing that she’d come up to Philly under different circumstances.  

“And more like me?” She asked, smiling at you.  

“Yeah,” you laughed.

“Let me see,” she leaned into your space to look at the picture, “here take a selfie.”

“I took like twelve earlier and that was just us buying cannoli.”  

“I need to commemorate this trip!” Sarah laughed, grabbing your phone to set up the selfie. She wanted a picture of everything the two of you did together. She had thought about posting some of the pictures that morning but decided against it.  

For once she really didn’t care if John B was thinking about her. If he was wondering what she was doing or upset that she hadn’t returned to the Outer Banks for summer like they had planned. This was better already and she’d only been here half a day with you. But she didn’t want to post and gloat, she just wanted to keep all the pictures to herself, to enjoy herself and the way she was feeling with you.

✰

“After this we should get cookies and then go home,” Sarah mentioned, taking a sip of her soda. She was only a quarter of the way into her cheesesteak and she was pretty sure it was single greatest thing she’d ever eaten.  

“I thought you were on your second wind?” You teased, turning in your stool again to knock your knee against hers. She smiled at the touch.  

“I think second wind me wants chocolate chip cookies and a good cuddle while we watch a movie.” She replied.  

When she’d looked across the bodega at you all she wanted to do was kiss you. So she had. And she let you play it off like she was just tipsy but she knew that wasn’t even the half of it. If you were confused about her signals she was confused about her feelings. She knew she still felt something for John B but she couldn’t deny that being just friends with you, after she had been given a taste of what being more than that could feel like, had her wishing she could just throw caution to the wind and tell you she wanted to be with you.  

-

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[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Two--Part 2

Part Seventy-Two--Part 1

"Good girl." Nikki praises me when I move up and down on his cock, my back arched while he stands on his knees, fucking me from behind--well, technically I'm fucking him, he's at a standstill watching in awe. 

I look back at him, tugging my lip into my mouth to keep from screaming when he grabs at my hips and goes back to pounding into me, evidence of me already coming twice, running down my thighs. 

He continues to hit that spot in me that makes my eyes roll back and my hands ball up in the sheets. 

"Nikki, I--" I can't finish, a tear rolling down my cheek because of how good I feel right now.

His hand reaches down and his fingers brush against my clit, making me tighten around him even more, my face burying in the sheets as I cry out in ecstacy.

"Are you gonna come?" He asks me and I nod, spreading my legs as wide as I can, my soaked pussy hungry for every inch. 

He chuckles to himself before he pulls out of me, making me whine.

Before I can ask what's wrong, he's pushing me over to face me, holding my thighs apart as he goes back to fucking me, picking up where he left off, making sure he's hitting that same spot. 

I dig my nails into his wrists, looking at him as he smirks down at me, sweat rolling down his chest, hotly. 

"I had to watch you when you did it." He tells me in reference to watching me come.

I don't say anything, instead, grabbing one of his hands and guiding it to my clit.

He catches on and his other hand suddenly grabs my throat making me grin as more liquid coats him in my pussy. 

"It's mine, isn't it?" He asks me, calloused fingers beginning to rub at my sensitive nerves, making me moan out, my lids half shut as I nod.

"All yours, daddy." I purr out, and he goes even harder into me, keeping his fingers on my clit before I tighten around him so hard he groans, my cum running out of me, and he leans over me, continuing the beating between my legs, his tongue meeting mine hotly as he starts to near his end, too. 

"Face, tits, or mouth?" He asks me.

"Surprise me." I reply, my chest heaving.

"I know what my dirty little slut wants." He tells me and I read his mind, nodding. 

Within a couple minutes, he's burying himself in me and finishing, making my eyes close as a satisfied moan leaves my throat. 

He collapses beside me, taking deep breaths until he calms down, while I immediately feel sleepy.

"Will you quit it?" I grumble in a few minutes, half asleep, unable to feel my legs as Nikki let's out yet another loud breath, obviously not tired...and obviously not wanting me to leave him awake by himself. 

"Don't go to sleep yet." He tells me and I groan, turning to face him. 

"You just screwed me into next week, Nikki, I'm going to bed." I reply and he looks at me, unamused. 

"Vivian, I'm not tired." 

"Because you were snorting lines off of me earlier tonight after I told you not to."

"I think a blowjob will put me to sleep." He informs me when I close my eyes again and I scoff. 

"Better learn to suck your own dick, then, because I'm not giving you a blowjob right now. I just gave you one during foreplay." 

"Okay, then let me eat you--"

"--I'm about to go get in the guest bedroom." I state. 

"Fine, fine." He sighs out...before he starts moving his legs constantly, which in turn makes me squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. 

"Nikki." I grit out. 

"I'm trying to get comfortable, Viv!" He says innocently and I groan out in frustration. "Alright, sorry." He mumbles getting still again. 

Right before I'm dozing off, he says:

"Why do you always get to be the little spoon?" 

I huff out a breath and sit up, shoving him so hard he rolls over onto his other side. 

"Hey, hey, don't be so rough or I'm gonna get turned on again and you'll be in a coma by the time I'm done with you." He tells me.

"At least I'd be asleep!" I reply before laying back down, wrapping my arm around his bare waist, my forehead to his back.

We lay still for a moment, the noise of nothing but people talking in the street, filling the room as the street lights cast a relaxing glow through the window. 

"Vivian." He says quietly.

"What?" 

"I haven't hooked up with any other chicks in a while...ya know." He informs me.

"I'm having to keep up with your unspent libido. Trust me, I know you haven't." I hum, welcoming the incoming sleep. 

"It's not that it's unspent, it's just that I'm always in the mood when you're around." He tells me.

"You are so full of it, Nikki." 

"You play all innocent and then BAM! You're in a split on m--"

"--I'm not having this conversation." I pinch at his back to get him to hush. 

"Okay, then we can talk about the period sex because that was--"

"--Completely your idea because 'it's just blood, it's no big deal'." I quote him. 

"You seemed way too into it, though. Makes me wonder, really." He smartly replies. 

"Because it felt good, now go to sleep." I mumble.

"Is that not weird, though?" 

"Nikki, you wanted to do it--"

"--No, I mean, we're polar opposites but then when it comes to sex we like the same stuff." 

"Need I remind you I was a virgin who never even got friendly with herself before so I had no idea what I liked until I met you, so technically we aren't into the same stuff, I just go along with whatever you're into because you're the only thing I know."

"Okay well what don't you like that we've done and we won't do it again." He suggests. 

I think for a moment, deciding I really like the odd stuff he gets off on. 

"Nothing, yet." I tell him. 

"You just said--"

"--Go to sleep, I have to get up early for church tomorrow." I tell him.

"You're really gonna pray with the same tongue you were just drinking my cum down with earlier?"

"Christianity is a spectrum. Goodnight." I let out with a yawn. 

He turns back over to face me and I blink my eyes open a little when his knuckles brush against my cheek, a little smirk on his lips. 

"Go to sleep." I whine, nudging at him before he's pressing his lips to mine for a second. 

He pulls away and I bite my lip between my teeth before leaning in and kissing him again.

He chuckles when I trace his bottom lip with my tongue, my leg hooking over his hip as I move to straddle him, feeling his cum start to leak out of me, but I don't care, and he doesn't seem to either. 

"What happened to getting up early for church?" He teases, amused when my nails bite into the skin of his shoulders, his arms wrapping around my waist when he sits up, pulling my naked chest against his.

"I can drink a lot of coffee before I go." I suggest, kissing him again. 

"Whatever you say." He replies when he pulls away, not arguing, before kissing my cheek, then my jaw, then my neck.

"Yeah, it is whatever I say, and whatever I want." I add.

"And what exactly do you want?" He asks me suggestively, his hands resting at my hips, his lips brushing against mine. 

"Just you." I assure him in a whisper. 

"Oh, bullshit." He scoffs a little. "I'm sure the thought of me making it big and racking in money makes me all the more worth the trouble, right?" 

"You're an idiot if you think I'm with you for the possible-maybe money and fame." I pinch at his shoulder, scoldingly, and he winces. "I'm with you because I like you, jackass. I like being with you...I could give a damn about money--obviously." I motion around the shitty apartment bedroom and he blinks at me, slowly, smiling contently before bringing my lips down to his once more. 

"I like being with you…"

"Go fuck yourself, Nikki, you're fucked up!" I scream at him, throwing Slash's Jack bottle at him as everyone in the room--Tommy, Slash, Steven, and Sparkie--all duck as it collides with Nikki, spraying him with whiskey, but not hurting him as bad as I hoped...then he throws it back, shouting:

"You fucking psycho cunt!" 

The bottle misses me by an inch and breaks on the wall behind me, glass cutting at the back of my leg. 

Nikki--well, Sikki--had "accidentally" spilt his drink on me when entering the room, and didn't appreciate it when I told him he was being messy.

"You wanna jump down my goddamn throat for being 'messy' and then you start raising fucking hell when someone looks at you the wrong fucking way!" He accuses me.

"Guys, c'mon." Tommy tries to get us to calm down.

"You want some more of what I gave you earlier?!" I snap at Tommy, referring to his bloodied nosy I gave him a few days ago. 

"Vivian, you're being fucking ridiculous, all Nikki did was--"

"--Lie to me, cheat on me, choose drugs over me, make a mockery of my beliefs, humiliate me, shoot me, the list goes on, Tommy, if I haven't given you enough reasons as to why how I'm fucking acting right now is fucking justified!" 

"I'm about to fucking kick your ass, too!" Nikki threatens.

"Like you did to Vanity?! Might as well, seems like the only thing going for you in our relationship is the fact you haven't outright punched me!" I point my finger in his face and he takes a step to me, and Tommy tries to get between us to separate us. 

"I can fucking hit you, if you really want me to, Vivian, God knows I've tried my fucking hardest not to beat the ever loving life out of you, at least once, the past six fucking years living with your fucking witchy, vindictive, manipulative, victim narrative of an attitude!" 

"Then go ahead and see what the fuck happens!" I bark back. 

He pushes Tommy out of the way and raises his fist, and I'm ready for him to knock the piss out of me before Steven's suddenly grabbing at his wrist, getting me behind him. 

"Hey, hey, stop it!" Steven snaps, shoving Nikki back a few feet. "Both of you are being fucking stupid!" 

"Get the fuck outta my way so I can finally set this bitch fucking straight!" Nikki struggles against him.

"So you can go down as a fucking 'woman beater' if it gets out?!" He makes his point. "I know you're pissed, I know you're tired, but you're fucked up right now and you'd feel like shit if you woke up tomorrow and realized you'd hit her, Nikki, and you know it." 

Nikki looks at me, shooting daggers my way, before letting out a huff of breath, backing off of Steven. 

"Fine. Just get the rest of your band in here to collect you guys' bitch and get the fuck out." He sneers, more so at me…

My cheek stings when Nikki hits me as a result of me snatching Slash's lit cigarette from his mouth, lunging past Stevie and pressing the lit end to Nikki's jaw. 

Then, of course, I have to get the last hit in, grabbing a handful of Nikki's hair, my balled fist hurtling into his eye. 

The breath leaves my body when Tommy slams me down onto the floor to keep me from getting the shit beat out of me when Nikki comes for me, Steven and Tommy blocking him, screaming for Fred.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Fred's hollering when he comes in.

"Send her the fuck home! I want a fucking divorce and I'm fucking pressing charges!" Nikki seethes still fighting against Tommy and Steven. 

"Aww, how sad for you, Nikki, I feel so bad!" I sarcastically hiss back when I stand up, feeling Fred's arm wrapping around my waist to pull me out of the room. 

"Go fucking kill yourself you fucking bitch!" Nikki yells at me. 

"You'll be fine, Nikki...once you use this as an excuse to shoot up again, you'll forget all about it!" I argue. 

"Duff!" Fred yells down the hall as he tugs me out of the room. 

Duff's drinking from a solo cup on the other end of the hall, talking to Izzy, concern on his face when he looks over. 

I don't quit struggling against Fred until Duff gets to us.

"What the hell is going on?" He asks me, concern all over his face. "What happened?" He asks next as Fred hands me off to him. 

"Nothing, I'm fine." I tell him and he furrows his brows, his fingers going over the welt left on my cheek from Nikki slapping me.

"Who did that?" He asks me next and I shake my head. 

"Nobody, alright, let's just get the hell outta here." I nudge at him and he looks at Fred. 

"Who the fuck hit her?" He asks him. 

"Duff, c'mon, it's fine. Let's go." I urge, but he's not moving. "Duff--"

"--Who hit you, Vivian?" 

"I'll explain it later, alright?" I tug at his arm. 

"I'm not leaving until someone tells me what the fuck happened and who the fuck hit you." He states and I look at him, my eyes starting to water. 

The last thing I need is for him and Nikki to get into a fight.

"Baby, please?" I mouth, giving my best helpless puppy look, hoping to persuade him to drop it for now and just leave with me. 

He relents, letting out a sigh. 

"We get back to the hotel, you're telling me." He tells me and I nod in agreeance. 

I wasn't mad at Nikki for hitting me, I would've hit me, too. It was like I was losing control over every aspect of my life, but what little control I had over people around me to make them lose their shit for a moment--even if I got hit in the process--gave me a sick sense of security.

Duff, however, did care if my mouth got me hurt…

"You start shit, Viv." Duff scolds me as he paces, while I sit on the bed, brushing my wet hair out in nothing but his tshirt. We haven't really talked since before rehearsal yesterday, he stayed out all night with Steven and Slash. "I don't understand how you go from being the sweetest girl ever to being so mean to people."

"Because they deserve it." I say to him. 

"They aren't worth the energy it takes trying to stir the pot, Viv. They're not." He adds, frustrated. 

"Duff," I start, softly. 

"I'm not--I can't--I-I'm not happy with you, Viv, alright? I just need a few minutes to chill out because I don't want to argue with you, at all." 

"Baby," I say next, "please c'mere." I stand on my knees on the foot of the bed and he looks at me and let's out a heavy breath before trudging to me, my hands running up his chest. "I'm sorry, okay? What I did was stupid and childish and I shouldn't have done it and I'm sorry." 

"First it was the band rehearsal, now it's this...Viv, you can't keep…" he trails off, rubbing his eyes and I wrap my arms around him. 

"I know, and I'm sorry." I apologize again and he exhales. "What can I do to make it all better?" I ask, next, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

"Not scream people's heads off anytime they make you upset." He replies. 

"Okay, what else?" I ask again, pressing a kiss to his neck. 

"Viv, I'm really not in the mood…" he tells me and look at him, trying not to pout. 

He must be really pissed to blow off sex. 

"Duff, I said I was sorry." I tell him.

"And I said I'm not really in the mood." 

I give up, moving off the bed to brush my teeth and when I get back to the bed, he's laying down. 

"Who hit you earlier?" He asks, and I thought he would forget to ask, but he didn't. 

"Doc meant to hit Nikki, but he got me instead." I lie, turning my back to him, accepting the fact he's upset with me and probably will be until tomorrow. 

"Oh." He says lowly, and I can feel him looking at me for a moment before he turns the lamp off, turning his back to me, too. 

Sparkie's departing words come back to my mind:

"You have until the end of this leg of the tour to give me a turn, or I'm telling Nikki about you and Duff."

[keelywolfe]

Drabble: Home (baon)

Summary: All small towns aren't created equal.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Andy(Jeff)

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read in on AO3!

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Read it here!

 ~~*~~

Jeff hadn’t been living in New New Home very long, only a couple months and he'd learned a few things since then. For one, the Monster community wasn’t very large and New New Home couldn’t be properly called a city. It was more of a town and a small one at that.

He’d grown up in a small town, where everybody knew everyone, including all their personal business, and when he’d moved to Ebott for college, Jeff had been pretty sure that was exactly the kind of life he didn’t want to have again. Funny how it turned out that the town wasn’t the actual problem, only the people living in it.

In New New Home, he could take a walk down the street and know that everyone he saw would smile and wave. People still knew him by name but absolutely none of them would be on the phone in moments, vindictively eager to blab to his parents about what they’d seen him doing or where he went or who he was with, and they could couch the words with all the false concern in the world. The truth of it was they were hurrying to share malicious gossip before anyone else could and waiting for the inevitable fallout.

Not that there weren’t plenty of wagging tongues in the Monster community, heck, Blue was a champion at it, but somehow, it was different. His tidbits were always wrapped in fondness and if he mentioned that so-and-so started dating whose-their-face, it was always with the greatest hope that the date went well and that a second would follow, and if his worries for Stretch might be over the top, well, he kept it mostly to himself.

Jeff never knew before coming here that gossip could be kind.

The Bun Bakery was within walking distance of their house and it was an uncommonly warm day for spring, sunny and bright. Perfect for a leisurely stroll. Edge’s baking would always be Jeff’s favorite, but he guiltily admitted that the Bun Bakery was pretty damn close second. Plus, Edge didn’t make the little cinnamon bunny bites they did, always fresh and warm right from the oven, the sugar and cake almost melting away on his tongue.

The older Bun lady behind that counter didn’t even ask Jeff for his order anymore, already scooping the treats into a paper bag the second the doorbell jangled as he stepped inside.

Today, though, he decided to change it up. “Can I get two bags this time?”

“Hungry, are we?” Gemma laughed, shaking out another small bag. Her long ears were folded down underneath a mesh hairnet. The Bun family was huge, and Jeff was still getting the hang of it, but he was pretty sure this was Edge’s assistant Janice’s cousin. Pretty sure.

“I could probably eat ten bags before I got sick of them, but I’m trying to keep my girlish figure,” Jeff said wryly. “This one is for a friend.”

A minute to swipe his card and Jeff was back outside in the fresh air, heading back the way he came as he started in on his own bag of goodies.

Edge and Stretch lived on the same road as Blue did, all Jeff needed to do was hang a right instead of a left at the intersection. The garage door was open and he could see the vague outline of Edge inside. He was sitting on the concrete floor next to his motorcycle, his bad leg stretched out in front of him, all velcro-ded into that knee-high boot that acted as a sort of splint.

“Good morning, Jeff.” To Jeff’s not at all surprise, Edge didn’t even look up from what he was working on. Dark fluid was running from the engine into a shallow pan on the ground.

"Hiya. Just stopping by, thought I'd bring Stretch a treat." He held up a bag of cinnamon bunny bites, his own empty one crumpled guiltily into his fist.

It really was fascinating to watch Edge whenever someone mentioned Stretch. Edge always looked sort of fierce, his skull was sharply angular where the others were more rounded. His visible teeth were jagged and sharp, the crack through his socket adding an aura of danger, and his bearing tended towards aloof on a good day. He made Jeff sort of think of a lion, standing alone on the savanna, fierce and proud.

But one mention of Stretch and his entire expression sort of…softened. Not literally, but Jeff couldn’t think of a better way to describe it. His intense crimson eye lights went fuzzy at the edges, the corners of his mouth turned up in an almost smile. Maybe people who didn’t know him couldn’t tell, but to Jeff’s eye it was practically a physical statement of adoration. It never lasted long, vanished back under the stoic pretty quickly, but Jeff knew it was there, lurking under the surface.

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that, he never turns down sugar,” Edge said dryly. “He was napping, last I saw, you can knock on the door and see if he’s awake.”

“I’ll text him in a minute,” Jeff decided. He hunkered down, instead, peering at the motorcycle curiously, “What are you doing?”

“Maintenance.” Edge wiped away a trickle of sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand where it wasn’t smeared with grease. “I won’t be able to ride it anytime soon, but the engine still needs maintained. Hand me the socket wrench?”

Jeff hesitated, not wanting to admit he didn’t have half a clue what a socket wrench was. Edge only pointed patiently, and Jeff handed it over. He watched as Edge used it expertly, and his mouth, like it so often did, decided to run off without him. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“You can ask.” The implication being that Edge might not answer. “Now the new filter.”

Jeff handed over the rounded, ribbed thing Edge pointed out. “When did you know you were in love with Stretch?"

At first, he didn't think Edge was going to answer. His hands kept moving, screwing in the new filter, then picking up a funnel to add fresh oil to the tank.

"That's a difficult question," he said at last. “You know I love him. I can say that now. When we first started dating, it wasn't so easy.” His eye lights flicked briefly to Jeff. “Being with Stretch is like not knowing I was colorblind my entire life and then looking into the sky after a storm to suddenly see a rainbow.” That softness went over his face again and his voice dropped until Jeff had to strain to hear. “Colors I never knew existed until I knew him.”

Not really an answer to the question, but Jeff let it go. That was a better answer to an unasked question, anyway.

“Done,” Edge said decisively. He stripped off his dirty gloves and set them with the pile of oily rags. “All right, then, let’s go in and wake up my husband, shall we?”

Jeff stood and automatically held out a hand to help Edge up. He faltered at the last second and almost drew it back; metaphors aside, he didn’t know much about proud lions on the savanna, but he knew that Edge bristled over showing even minor weaknesses and he wasn’t big on touching either if it wasn’t Stretch doing the feeling.

Edge never hesitated, setting his bare hand firmly into Jeff’s. The bones of his hands were cooler than Stretch’s, rough with scars, the sharpened tips didn’t so much as graze Jeff’s skin. He let go without undue haste when he was back on his feet and if Edge realized the import of that one small action to Jeff, it didn’t show. He only grabbed his cane and headed towards the door. “Are you staying for lunch?”

“Um…yeah,” Jeff said weakly, then stronger, “Yeah, sure. What are we having?”

He followed Edge into the house, into the living room where Stretch was starting to stir on the sofa and as predicted, his sleepy smile turned to pure delight when Jeff handed over the bag of treats even as Edge scolded him affectionately not to ruin his appetite for lunch.

A different small town, a different family, and for the first moment in an achingly long time, Jeff felt like he was home.

-finis-

[ladyofthursday]

20 with djc 😘

So I wrote this in about 20 minutes? This is the very first piece of djc I’ve ever written! I hope you like it and I apologise for any errors.Exhausted Parents Kiss: It’s 3am and Jack is crying. Again.

“For the love of god please make him stop!” whines Jimmy, burrowinghis head under the pillow. “Deeaaaan go comfort your son.”

“No, it’s Cas’s turn,” mutters Dean, swatting at hisboyfriend, smirking with satisfaction when he hears Jimmy’s high-pitched yelp.

“Caaaas your son is crying again.”

“Fine. Fine. Fine!” grumbles Castiel and Dean can feel themattress shift as the older of the twins pulls himself out of bed. “But youboth owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” adds Jimmy, “whatever, I’ll give you a blowjobin the morning.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of diaper duty for thenext week,” says Cas, a vindictive note in his voice as he pads out of theroom.

“Whaaaa? That’s not fair!” Jimmy moans. Dean chuckles darklyto himself. Trust Cas to turn this into an actual punishment rather than a funone. Although, he’d probably do the same if he was being honest.  

It’s been six weeks since they bought Jack home from thehospital.

Which has meant six weeks of minimal sleep, dirty diapersand a screaming child. Yes, he loves Jack very much. More than he thought hecould ever love anything. But oh god he misses sleep. He misses it so much.

You’d have thought with three of them, it should have beeneasy. They’d joked about it – how hard can a new baby be they’d said? Even whenEileen and Sam had rolled their eyes at them, the three of them had buriedtheir heads in the sand. (Well, maybe not Cas, but he’s always been the most sensibleof them).

But now the universe is punishing them.

Jimmy’s out again like a light and Dean wishes he had hisability to switch off that easily. He shuffles around a little, trying to makehimself comfortable but to no avail.  

“Hello trouble,” comes Cas’s soft voice over the babymonitor. “What’s the problem? Why can’t you sleep now? Do you want something toeat or do you just think that your daddies don’t deserve sleep?” Jack coossoftly and Dean’s heart melts a little. “That’s what I thought. You’re so likeyour dad.”

He can hear Cas’s footsteps descending the stairs and Deanknows he should go and help him, but all his strength seems to have seeped fromhis muscles. How easy would it just be to lie here and let Cas do everything…

No. He needs to get up. And Jimmy can too.

“C’mon Papa, time to get up.” He smacks Jimmy’s ass. “We can’tlet Cas do everything. We all agreed to be parents.”

“Alright, alright. Just five more minutes!”

Dean rolls his eyes. Well he tried. Taking a deep breath, hepulls himself out of bed, reaching for his robe and shuffling out of thebedroom. There’s a light on downstairs and he follows it. Cas is sat on the couch,Jack tucked under one arm and a bottle in the other hand.

Dean’s heart melts even further. Dammit he loves his husbandso much.

“Hey handsome, you doing ok?”

“Yes but you didn’t need to get up. You should go back tobed,” Cas replies, voice thick with sleep.

“True, but I can’t let you do everything,” Dean adds,settling himself on the couch next to them. “You do so much for us already.”

“So do you,” Cas says, smiling sleepily. “I can’t believe wethought this was going to be easy.”

“No shit. Sam’s probably laughing at us right now.”

“Most likely. But, he’s worth it.” Dean looks down at thetiny bundle in Cas’s arms. Jack’s half asleep again already, wriggling in hisdinosaur sleep suit. He’s so perfect, Dean secretly hopes he’ll never change.Well, unless that change is sleeping more. That he could deal with. Everythingelse? Probably not.

“He really is.” He smiles at Cas, leaning over to press asoft, sleepy kiss to his husband’s lips. “I love you all so much.”

“We love you too.”

x

When Jimmy comes down a few hours later, he finds all threeof them crashed out on the couch. He chuckles to himself and returns to theirroom to grab their giant duvet. Carefully, he removes the sleeping Jack fromCas’s grasp and covers his boyfriends up, tucking them in gently and pressinglittle kisses to each of their temples.

“C’mon little man,” he says, “back to bed, let’s let dad anddaddy sleep. I think they’ve earned it.”

Jack wiggles in his sleep again but doesn’t stir and formoment, all is at peace in the world.