#chapter two baybeeeee

[dudebro231]

kwyhbuh wednesday number twooooooo baybeeeeeeee!!!! we're still in a bit of a slow period, but we're getting to the exciting stuff soon

[yukkiji]

footnote: uncle kotaro

your brother was never subtle, and neither was his love. so when it came time to tell him your news, there was no way to keep it quiet—or simple. especially not with twins.

chapters of us. haikyuu masterlist. leave a little stardust on my ko-fi

starring. akaashi keiji x fem!reader ft bokuto kotaro

genre: fluff, romance, domestic fluff, timeskip!akaashi, pregnant!reader

wc: 1.1k

author's note: uncle kotaro finally made an apperance

the house is unusually quiet for a thursday afternoon. the kind of stillness that blankets the air before something momentous.

akaashi sits in the study, red pen tucked behind one ear, brow furrowed in focus as he marks up another page of his manuscript draft. the gentle scratch of pen against paper is the only real sound, punctuated by the occasional soft whistle of the kettle from the kitchen.

you’re perched at the edge of the couch, mug in hand, watching the second hand on the clock inch toward the top of the hour.

he’s coming.

you’ve held onto the news for over a week now—long enough that it’s settled into your bones, no longer a shocking new discovery but something you carry, quietly, with growing warmth. you’ve told a few close friends, your doctor, of course. akaashi was the first.

but one person, you needed to tell in person.

kotaro.

he’s been bouncing between prefectures with the jackals, volleyball tournaments, charity events, pr appearances. his texts have been short and scattered, half-lucid with exhaustion, peppered with blurry selfies and late-night voice notes. still, you’d waited. you wanted to wait. because when it came to bokuto, some things needed to be said face to face.

yesterday, finally:

[kotaro.bokuto] "back in tokyo baybeeeee!!! coming to you guys as soon as i drop my bag. get the snacks ready!! 😎🔥"

the knock on the door comes exactly as expected—three quick taps, then two more. his signature rhythm. like a fanfare announcing himself.

you’re already on your feet. the moment you open the door, there he is—kotaro bokuto, in all his chaotic glory. slightly windblown, hoodie oversized, duffel hanging off one shoulder, and hair a little less defiant than usual, probably flattened from the train ride. but his grin? blinding.

“heyyyyyy!!” he says, arms already open wide. “oh my god, i missed your face.”

“careful,” you laugh, stepping into his hug. “i’m not as sturdy these days.”

he pauses mid-hug, leaning back. squints at you. “huh? what does that mean?”

you just wink. “you’ll see.”

inside, the apartment is warm with the familiar smell of coffee and that soft domestic quiet that’s always settled around akaashi like a second skin. he looks up from his desk as bokuto steps in, smile faint but present.

“welcome back, bokuto-san.”

“akaashi!” bokuto beams, instantly charging toward the study, then stopping short halfway. “i brought snacks and—wait, no. i left them on the train. crap. i meant to bring snacks.”

“you brought yourself,” you say, guiding him to the couch. “that’s more than enough.”

he flops onto the cushions like he’s been away for years instead of weeks. then his eyes narrow, bouncing between you and akaashi. “okay. something’s up. you’re both acting weird. secretive. like… like you joined a cult and now you’re trying to convert me gently.”

“close,” you tease.

akaashi disappears briefly into the bedroom and returns holding something. a plain white envelope, slightly wrinkled from where it’s lived in the kitchen drawer all week. a secret between just the two of you. until now.

bokuto tilts his head, catching the shift in atmosphere instantly. “what’s that?”

“something we’ve been waiting to tell you,” akaashi says, offering him the envelope.

he opens it slowly. the moment stretches.

then his eyes freeze. they scan the photo again, slower this time, his brows drawing together. his breath catches.

“wait,” he murmurs, voice suddenly small. “is this…?”

“twins,” you say, barely louder than a whisper.

there’s silence.

then—

“twins?!” bokuto shoots up like he’s just scored match point, holding the ultrasound up like it’s a championship trophy. “you guys made two?! i’m gonna be an uncle?! oh my god—wait, do i get to name them? can i teach them to spike???”

you double over laughing, clutching your stomach. “no to the names. maybe to the spiking. once they can stand, at least.”

“indoor voice, bokuto-san,” akaashi says, calmly sipping from his coffee mug. but the corners of his mouth twitch.

bokuto ignores him, pacing now, hands flailing like he’s strategizing mid-game. “oh man. this is so cool. i have to tell kuroo—wait, no, he’ll tell everyone—nevermind. this is sacred. i’m keeping it locked down. totally classified.”

“you don’t have to—”

“nope! locked in the vault,” he says, miming a key and throwing it. then he turns to you, all that fire in his expression dimming into something quieter, gentler. “hey. you’re okay? both of you? the babies?”

you nod, resting your hand instinctively over your stomach. “yeah. we’re good. tired. nauseous. but good.”

bokuto smiles, and it’s that rare kind of smile—the one that strips away all his noise and leaves just the heart underneath. “i’m proud of you guys,” he says. “like… really proud. and stupidly happy. you’re gonna be the best parents.”

you swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. “thanks, ko.”

he stays for hours.

you all order delivery and eat on the floor. you talk about every ridiculous baby name suggestion he can think of (including, horrifyingly, "spikelyn"), and you tell him about your first ultrasound, how you cried even though you swore you wouldn’t. akaashi adds quiet observations here and there, balancing the chaos with a kind of grounding calm that bokuto clearly missed.

at one point, bokuto insists he’ll babysit “literally whenever,” and you make him promise to take an infant cpr class first.

“i do have gentle hands,” he protests, pouting.

“babies aren’t volleyballs, bokuto-san,” akaashi says dryly.

“yeah, yeah,” bokuto grumbles, “but you are gonna let me buy them tiny uniforms, right? matching ones?”

eventually, night creeps in.

bokuto hugs you again before he leaves—this time tighter, but with surprising tenderness. “tell the owlets i already love them,” he says into your shoulder.

akaashi walks him to the elevator. when the apartment settles into quiet again, it’s not the same kind of stillness as before.

you head to the bedroom and stop short.

there, on the pillow, are two plush toys: a soft, wide-eyed owl and a chubby little lion. you recognize them instantly—bokuto had won them at a festival game booth last year, declaring they were “for you and keiji to hold when i’m away on long trips!”

now they’re sitting side by side.

between them is a note, written in bokuto’s familiar, chaotic handwriting:

to the little owlets, i was gonna keep these for your mom and dad, but i think you two need them more. don’t tell them i cried (i totally didn’t cry). you’re already so loved. can’t wait to yell “i’m your favorite uncle!!” in your faces. love, uncle ko 🦉🦁

you sit on the bed, clutching the note in one hand and the owl plush in the other. akaashi appears in the doorway a moment later, quiet as always, and reads the note over your shoulder.

he doesn’t say anything.

but his hand finds yours. and he holds it.

in the hush of the room, with laughter still lingering in the walls, and two small plushies nestled between the pillows, it’s suddenly clear:

the twins already have a village.

and they are so, so loved.

[cicaedahums]

"Wait, who's Reiko Kashima?" "Oh, you know. Reiko Kashima. Anyway--"

I continue to appreciate that, in spite of her generally-irreverent demeanor and way of carrying herself, it ALSO is a HUGELY prominent trait of like. Reverence for the spiritual Seiko carries with her, in a way that kind of highlights and compliments her other character traits and vice versa. Idk she's not the most involved or deep character but i will not deny her cool factor.

hehe

So Dandadan is staaarting to hint at some powercreep that I specifically complimented it for NOT doing before, but considering that, even before this instance of hopping to Seiko and Turbo Granny, Okarun had technically hopped to the alien spacecraft as early as chapter 1 (even if turbo granny was 100% calling the shots there), it's not really getting too egregious yet.

Turbo Granny's in your 5G

It's nice to see a scene like this that DOESN'T focus on the rivalry over Okarun. There's genuine concern and it has nothing to do with jealousy or love triangles.

Aww

So kind of backing up to the topic of powercreep, I'm NOT entirely sure how I feel about the elements of spirals and words being put into the mix. I liked before that there WAS kind of a hard power element EXCEPT wrt Momo's powers, which she hasn't been able to use to the full effect since I think episode/chapter 1. I'll meter expectations either way but I'm not altogether EXCITED about these new/ish elements.

These panels are curious. I've pointed out before that Aira DEFINITELY has a clever/cunning edge that predates even her getting washbin'd, and looking closely, especially with the insert of those two books/magazines, like, this scene plays out very much like she has the human body book tucked into the hair magazine (there certainly SEEMS to be two there), but in such a way Momo CAN'T tell beyond the cover.

ONE FEAR

Ok I'm glad Okarun is in the cellar bc I was genuinely like "HOLY SHIT" when the house exploded lol.

Not related but I wish I had curry now. Mmm...

Oh FUCK yes. It's about time we started utilizing the power of overwhelming malice and evil in the pantheon of friendship powers. I'm always saying this.

Still not overfond of Jiji getting to have super awesome powers outside of just the evil eye shift, but with presentation like this I'll allow it tentatively.

Why doesn't HE have limiters on his abilities like Momo tho

HELL YEAH AIRA. HELLLLLLL YEAAAAAH AIRAAAAAAAAAAAA

Oh hai kinta

OKAY an aside on Kinta rq bc i keep forgetting but while I deffo get the dirty talk thing can be annoying, I was ABSOLUTELY That Guy in high school and was similarly frustrated in why I Couldn't Get It in a way my peers and even friends did, esp since I felt like, in part, I picked it up FROM them to begin with. Which made being chewed out for it even more annoying bc like!!! "You're doing it too! You JUST made a joke like that!!!" Being An Autism is so hard sometimes. 🙄

Anyway, it's about time he got some focus! It really feels like a lot of characters have been getting thrown in atm to the point where I missed that the Slit-mouthed woman was NAMED

...He's just like me fr

VAMOLA'S BACK BAYBEEEEE

FUCK

I FUCKING KNEW IT.

WE HAVE TO KILL JIJI.

"...You showed me the meaning... of yuri..."

Anyway no fucking way Vamola is dead. No fucking way. That is BRUTAL tho but if Aira can walk off like an entire building getting hurled at her and fricken laser beams So Help Me, Vamola is surviving this if we haven't even KIND of gotten to know her yet.

"Chapter 101: Vamola"

Aw shit.

Anyway I didn't know Momo's powers could actually HEAL, and I feel like there was no real suggestion they COULD. Yes, yes, I remember they brought Aira back to life, but there were extenuating circumstances and the suggestion seemed to be that there wasn't a physical cause or injury there and restoring her was as easy as moving aura around.

Oh, nice snap cut to Aira lying completely out cold on the ground.

When tf did Okarun get a transceiver?

"Hey Dandadan, what's your HUGE political statement, the people are clamoring to know." "Make Government big."

In all seriousness, I deffo appreciate Banga so far. This also does seem to make explicit the themes of children being let down by the forbearers's mistakes, which I appreciate.

I also didn't really expect Dandadan to tackle the subject of the brutality of war and colonization so directly. Again, I don't really think it's doing it The Best, but it's also not entirely shying away from being brutal here. Also, I wonder if the means by which the suits are produced are an influence

After all of that, of course it's Ms. Banga who gets ahold of the suit first

All considered, it's a wonder Vamola was at all adjusting as well as she was.

Also: I was wrong she was fleeing from someone she was betrothed to, but I was kind of right that there was a huge mix-up in what was going on with the marriage, even if it was still a lot more straightforward than I'd initially assumed.

Ok backing BACK around to Kinta: seriously is he just Like That? Explain how you have spiritual powers sir!!!

GSDHASDFAFDS

POV YOU ARE GOING TO GET DROP KICKED

Oh ok so Momo doesn't actually have the ability to restore injuries.

BUT THE SERPO DOOOOES...

I guess that makes sense since they've already shown the ability to do uh. Bizarre things with that appendage.

They're holding hands... <:3

"Rokuro is dead"

This isn't about him.

Ok so Momo seemed to have tapped into her latent potential again during all of that. Guess when shit REALLY hits the fan she can always start warping reality as a fallback /jk

I love the contrast between Acrobatic Silky!Aira's use of words like "respectfully" and "nobly" and the formal tone that implies and also the way she peppers her speech with "shit for brains", sometimes in the same breath.

Okay, seriously, does Jiji not have limits? You'd think with his chi training being used in part to limit Evil Eye, he'd be operating on WAY fewer cylinders to begin with. Even as sb who loves Jiji to bits, I do not care for him being able to throw spirit guns every other panel. I can't see it being BECAUSE of evil Eye--the arrangement therein kind of implies a water and oil situation

Ok.

gpoy

I mean she was managing before, but I'd never complain about some primo Airaisms, esp with the Acrobatic Silky flavoring hehe

Anyway really lucky that anyone even thought to give Okarun a transceiver considering as far as they knew, he'd be OUT out and still on the brink of death. Nice of them.

[lookforanewangle]

I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT THE DAEMON AU

HI HELLO I WILL TELL YOU ABOUT THE DAEMON AU

You've unearthed pandora's box; under a read more because this got long lmao

First off, there are theoretically going to be multiple fics, but right now I'm working on the main one which starts with the tsunami! I've finished five chapters/23k words and they are off with some betas for review 👀 I'm not sure how long it's going to be but I'm building towards buddie and will be focusing on Buck coming to terms with himself and his self-worth a la tsunami through Buck Begins! The shooting may or may not be its own thing later lol. That's all I'll share though because I don't want to spoil my plot twists, but I have shared some snippets here

I love exploring the relationships between characters and their daemons and their relations to other characters/daemons when I do daemon aus and this one will be no different! love pushing the boundaries of their connections and also Touch as well, though I lean more towards it being an intimate show of trust, not necessarily in a sexual way. It's aaaaall about the found family connections here baybeeeee 👏

The rules I follow (which I believe are directly from the books; I've only seen the show rip, but I've been reading daemon aus for over a decade):

Do not ask questions about another’s daemon.

Always keep your daemon close; to separate is to suffer.

Touch is only to be allowed by another daemon, not their person.

and Touch rules:

Do not ever Touch without permission

Do not ever allow Touch from someone you do not trust implicitly (2a: Family and significant others are most often allowed to Touch & 2b: Best friends allowing Touch is rare, but not unheard of)

Touch is typically skin to skin/fur/scales. If there are clothing items in between, the touch is not necessarily considered Touch, depending on the situation

And now on to everyone's daemons!! When deciding most of these, I used the daemon quiz results spreadsheet that you can find here!! It was so useful and helped when I couldn't decide between two different animals. I've added the descriptions for each below. Not all of them fit perfectly; some of them I leaned more towards looks or ability to assist during rescues while also trying to tie somewhat to personality, and sometimes only half of the description fits, but I tried to stick as close as I could.

Buck & Bailey - Irish Wolfhound

This one was not on the spreadsheet, but I really wanted a beeeeg dog for Buck and found the reddit thread in the screenshot below; it just fit and I love her to death now 🥺 Top pic is her coloring!

Chris & Minara (Mina) - Unsettled

Mina may be unsettled but she most often chooses a ferret or a perching bird of some kind, typically a cardinal!

ferret: You are a spontaneous and affectionate individual who loves to have fun. More so than others with weasel daemons, those with ferrets are high energy extroverts, gregarious with others but never sacrificing their outspoke assertiveness. They're curious and impulsive people who hate to wait and love to find silver linings in life.

cardinal: You are a brave and faithful individual who is fiercely protective of what they love. More so than others with perching bird daemons, those with cardinals are romantic and proud, and carry their bold energy into all they do. They are determined and confident people.

Eddie & Gabriela (Gabi) - Caracal

The caracal description doesn't quite fit Eddie to a T, but it's close. I was going more for looks for him, and for a cat that's large enough to assist with rescues without being a big cat.

You are an observant and thoughtful individual who is deeply private. More so than others with wild cat daemons, those with caracals are independent and self-preserving, excelling in the specific area of life they've carved out for themselves. They have strong boundaries and prefer to only depend on themselves.

Bobby & Zura - Timber Wolf

You are a loyal and spiritual individual who deeply values their own gut feelings. More so than others with wild dog daemons, those with wolves are committed to their loved ones and develop deep emotional bonds. They have great capacity for inspiration and are protective over what they love and value.

Athena & Achilles - Snowy Owl

yes I had to make a Greek mythology reference. don't laugh at me. I did almost go with Ares, but I decided on Achilles because essentially daemons are a human's achilles heel...if a daemon dies, so does their human 99.9999% of the time, so. It seemed fitting lmao

You are a powerful and assertive individual who values deep thought and clarity. More so than others with owl daemons, those with snowy owls are independent and confident, able to appear competent even when they don't feel it. Rarely does their resilient and strong-willed exterior waver.

Hen & Jorrah - Chicken/Rooster

Still deciding between which of these two breeds; if anyone has suggestions I'm all ears!! And of course I had to give Hen a hen rooster. I may switch her to an actual hen; there are some instances where queer characters have daemons of the same gender and I haven't written any specific lines for either of them into the fic yet, so that could change 🤔

You are a driven yet nurturing individual who expects perfection from themselves and others. More so than others with flightless bird daemons, those with chickens love mentoring others and tend towards being a gossip. They don't always put their money where their mouth is, but they're incredibly social and know how to talk a big game. (Hen, of course, does put her money where her mouth is)

Going to have to make a part two etc to get everyone else's daemons in; I've capped out on photos. 😅

Thanks for asking!! Hopefully I can finish the fic soon so I can start posting 👀

[amandacanwrite]

Violet Thread of Fate || Part Seven: A Bite

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Join Taglist

POV || 3rd Person Elinna Inklynn (Tav)

Scenario|| Elinna Inklynn is an orphan with an uncanny ability to mess up even the simplest of spells. It’s not her fault; she hasn’t ever had access to a proper teacher. But she has had access to books, and she’s read about a certain gentleman wizard in Waterdeep that may just be willing to help her.

She books passage on a ship from the Moonshae Islands and sails to Waterdeep, only to be rejected by Gale Dekarios. He doesn’t take on apprentices.

But their paths become inextricably intertwined when an enormous Nautiloid targets the City of Splendors.

Word Count || Just under 1,400 words

Warnings || Graphic descriptions of blood and small, open wounds. Kidnapping. Coercion. Threats of violence. Ingesting of blood. Sensual/pseudo-sexual experiences, may not be appropriate/comfortable for all readers. Proceed with caution. As always, please let me know if I've missed something.

A/N || Admitedly, this installment is very self-serving. I love Astarion and I LOVE writing vampire bites from the perspective of the person being bitten. Hope you enjoy, and I can't wait for what comes next after this chapter. (Get ready for some hurt comfort baybeeeee.)

Taglist || @verba-writing @softvampirewhump @horizonstride @thoughts-of-bear 

@mymybirdie 

@tiedyedghoulette @drabblesandimagines @madwomansapologist @hijirikaww @tryingtowritestuff24

@laserlope @auroraesmeraldarose @puckprimrose @dont-try-pesticide @cherifrog 

@circusofthelastdays  @nourangul @crucibelle @fan-aaa-tic

She didn’t know how she’d gotten here. 

She tried to parse it out as the sharp blade of the stranger’s dagger pressed into the sensitive skin of her neck. 

She’d been walking as fast as she could, avoiding Gale as she had been overcome with embarrassing emotion from her little spat with him. She didn’t know why she had been so upset by what he’d said. After all, she’d heard similar things from dozens of people in her life. But for some reason, after the night she’d had talking with him and sharing some of the darker corners of her history, it felt especially painful to deal with his sour mood. 

She didn’t want him to see her cry; not over what he’d said. Not because she felt above expressing emotion, but because she didn’t want him to think she was fragile and silly. She’d been trying to prove herself and having a fit over a simple moment of abrasive communication wasn’t becoming of a young woman who wanted to try to meet him on his intellectual level. 

But she’d been going too fast; she hadn’t even realized Gale was having trouble keeping up. As soon as he’d told her as much, though, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned to walk back toward him. 

But before she could get a single step further, an unseen hand had grabbed her by her arm and pulled her back into a tiny crevice between two stones she hadn’t even seen. A man–an elf–pressed his lithely muscular arm against her chest and jammed her against the stone wall. She inhaled to scream, but before she could, a gloved hand pressed against her mouth. 

“Shh, shh, shh, darling. Not a peep out of that pretty mouth of yours, you know what they say. Three is a crowd,” A stranger’s voice cooed in Elinna’s pointed ear. “Stay very, very quiet so I don’t have to hurt your little friend…or slice open that delicate little throat of yours.”

Just a few feet away, Gale called out for her. He was so close…if she could just make some indication of where she was to him…if she could just get his attention. 

But the stranger’s crimson eyes pinned her in place, promising violence as he whispered even more quietly. “Not. A. Word.”

She closed her eyes, a single tear streaking down her cheek as she heard Gale’s steps recede and his voice get quieter and farther away. 

“That’s a very good girl,” he cooed. “Now, I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth and you’re going to continue being quiet, or I’m going to paint the ground with your innards. Is that clear?” 

Elinna didn’t move. 

“Nod,” he commanded. 

She did. 

He took his hand away from her mouth. 

And then…just…well. 

Then didn’t do anything at all. 

In fact, he looked a little uncertain as to what he should do with her now that he had her. He looked exhausted, his pale skin taking on an almost violet hue in the delicate skin beneath his crimson eyes. His tongue flicked out over dry lips in a futile effort to moisten them. 

When she could no longer hear Gale anymore she cleared her throat. 

“Wh-what did you…what do you want?” she asked. 

The stranger’s pale brows knit in the middle faintly as the knife blade bit into her skin. “I told you to be quiet,” he snapped.

She winced as the blade barely sliced into the skin of her neck. She felt a bead of warm blood bloom over it before dripping down her neck and into her leather armor. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered quietly. 

But he didn’t respond. 

His eyes were transfixed on her neck where the blood ran down her decolletage and between her breasts. 

Nine hells, was he some sort of pervert? 

She watched him wet his lips again, then saw the bob of his throat as he swallowed. His lips curled back as the knife slid out of his hand and he adjusted to grip the back of her neck.

“What are you–” she said before she let out a surprised gasp. 

He pulled her tight against him, curling his fingers into her hair and forcing her to reveal her throat to him. She felt the gash on her neck strain against the angle he forced upon her, and then just seconds later, the strangeness of a cool, wet tongue lapping at the line of blood on her collarbone. 

“W-wait,” she said. 

“Quiet,” he snarled.

And she obeyed. 

He closed his lips over the wound he’d given her, tongue tracing the cut. Her hands came up and balled uselessly in the fabric of his shirt as she pushed against him weakly. He let out a quiet moan–not the moan of someone in the throes of passion, but of someone who had tasted the finest meal they’d ever had. 

Her heart hammered so hard she could feel the pulse throbbing in her throat. She felt exposed and enticed all at once. Frightened and fascinated. Violated and validated. 

What was this? 

She heard a faint shaky inhale, like the stranger might say something to her. But instead of words there was only a sharp jolt of pain as he sunk his teeth into her neck with an unnerving sound.

She let out a shocked cry and pushed against him more insistently. His other arm only wrapped around the small of her back as he crushed her against his body and drank from the artery in her neck. Every point of contact between their bodies was equal parts tantalizing and abhorrent. She had never felt someone’s lips on the delicate flesh of her neck…and the stranger’s lips; the small traces of saliva left as he lapped at her skin…they were so cold.

She tried to hold onto her will; tried to continue fighting him off. But the initial pain and shock of the bite gave way to a pleasant numbness that flooded through her body starting at her neck and sluicing through her blood stream. 

She felt flush and warm in the same way she had when she’d located a particularly detailed tome called The Art of the Night. Her thighs squeezed together as memories of passages from the pages flooded her mind; the heated first nights of a newlywed king and queen and the ways they partook in eachother’s bodies. 

Her attacker’s hand in her hair loosened until he cradled her head as it fell back, accommodating him and granting more access. 

He broke away from her throat and huffed in private amusement. 

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed, lips still brushing the damp skin of her neck. She felt her hot blood leave the wound and drip once against down her decolletage and between her breasts. “It isn’t so bad, is it? To be my little morsel if just for a stolen, precious moment?”

Elinna sighed out a soft sound as her legs squeezed together. The strangers manicured fingers combed into the hair at her nape again, his other arm cradling her against his body as a lover might, rather than crushing her into him as he was doing moments before.

“So pliant, so willing, aren’t you?” he cooed.

But as he once again placed his lips around the open wound at her throat her mind drifted to other thoughts…other wants.

She thought sluggishly that she would prefer warmth and softness rather than this stranger’s cold, hard body. She thought of the rough texture of Gale’s tidy beard and the full swell of his lower lip. She recalled a distant, cloudy memory of her thighs braced in his hands as he carried her up the stairs to The Perch. 

She drifted into a daydream she’d never let herself venture into; a dream of what it would feel like to be wanted by him the way this stranger wanted her right now. To be devoured by him. To feel his rough hands stroke up the outer curve of her thigh–to feel that same hand grip needily into her thigh.

And then the darkness deepened. 

And there were no thoughts at all.

[rychick]

AT LONG LAST AND HALF A YEAR I HAVE FINALLY PICKED “MAYBE THE REAL TREASURE WAS THE FRIENDS WE MADE ALONG THE WAY” BACK UP

AAAUAUAYAYGH

SCHOOL HIT ME LIKE A SEMITRUCK BUT NOW THAT FINALS ARE NEARLY OVER I AM THRIVING !!1 TWO PAGES ON GOOGLE DOCS TYPED AND MORE TO COME

CHAPTER THREE IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE BAYBEEEEE

[ayyponine]

might fuck around and do yotp25 btw. local woman simply can not stop writing her stupid lil stories of blorbos having hard conversations and falling in looove

in a shocking turn of events though after a few years doin 3 bang events, 3 holiday exchanges, 2 other types of collaboration and of course a whole lot of self indulgent shit just fr meee all totalling *checks notes* over 275k dedicated to one ship. at last i am moving on to smth new. or rather. an old comfort ship. and possibly also a ship i vaguely am aware of but have never written about but now figured hey. yknow what i might have some things to say. that is right i might do the challenge simultaneously fr two different fandoms. twotp event if you will.

soo anyway ship 1 i literally wrote ONE >2k gen fic fr way back in 2014 but it’s a pairing i think of fondly and still carry within me low key a little. also au’s/reincarnation was/is a trend in that fandom which allows perfectly fr me to play around w the diff prompts while making a single cohesive story in monthly bite sized bits which had me like oooo. mayhaps i Would like to dive back in fr a while and play around w them thank you very much..

ship 2 again is not smth i actively ship but! i have Thoughts on the characters and their dynamic i might wish to Share with the rest of the class. again rather than separate drabbles i wanna make it all chapters of one story hoyyeverr since i need to obey the order of the monthly prompts these are not chronological (though still evenly distributed across past present future aka pre during and post canon events as instalments of again, one single narrative thread). tryin to figure out how i can fuck around w both the actual written text and its general structure to make clear the chronological order while making it a good solid read fr the monthly updates aka the order in which every new piece of the puzzle will be published. all im gonna say abt this ship is i loved that theres prompts fr 12 months w possibility of a bonus 13 to give a multifaceted view canon can not touch on. otherwise do not even fucking look at me and my intentions

absolutely devastated i might need to drop hanahaki fr both bc problematic or no i am a sucker fr that shit. i LICHERALLYYY just did a regency hanahaki au fr a ship mere months ago and yet here i am again. can NOT be sated yet unfortunately both stories i have in mind fr this are indeed, entirely set in this world which would not allow fr that type of setup even a lil bit rip

absolutely delighted january starts w a first kiss, feb has bed sharing/this made me think of u type tenderness and november enables a touch starved/are you sure combo of absolutely devastating consent after ages of pining from both the characters and readers. in march i am absolutely canonically murdering some guys though do not get me wrong. the hurt and comfort is what i live for baybeeeee

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

I have DE fics on A03 under the same name as my URL:

The first one is complete and covers the time between the end of the game and Kim joining precinct 41;

EXTREMELY slow burn. They don't even get together, they're literally just buds, it's 62K of Harry making questionable decisions and fighting to stay sober until the furies shatter his repression and he figures out he might actually be in love with his new Boy Best Friend. Written in the style of the game, because it's fun! Last chapter even has some Kim POV for extra flavour~ If that sounds cool then you can read Imprinting here: (x)

Fic two runs on immediately after Imprinting ^ and is more plot heavy. Currently at 22/28 chapters (218K) but I'm expecting this one to get LONG.

This is written from both Harry's POV (in the style of the game), and Kim's POV (my own spin), and alternates between them every chapter. Harry's chapters explore his feelings towards Kim and adjusting to life post-Martinaise, whereas Kim's chapters are set in the past (starting 46', when he's still a Juvenile Crimes Detective) and explore him meeting Eyes/ joining homicide through a case fic. *chefs kiss* It's about the parallels... If you like the sound of that, then you can read DUCKLINGS THAT DROWN here: (x)

I've also done a little bit of art for both and might do more in the future! I tag these posts with the fic names, so they should be easy enough to find :)

I'm definitely a writer over an artist though, so if you read my stuff and like it and want to talk to me about (or draw for it! Which people have done and won my undying devotion for!!!) it then please do!

One shots!

WHISKEY BAR 33k: (x)

case fic set in a night club exploring Harry's struggles with addiction; Kim's jealousy, workaholism, and his over-protective nature; as well as both of their experiences being queer. They've had a bad argument before the beginning of the fic which introduces an interesting dynamic. Harry POV besides chapter 2 which explains the reason for their conflict.

Of Games And Winning 17k: (x)

The challenge for this one was "DON'T put Kim Kitsuragi through the ringer" and I still failed. He's fine though, much lighter than what I usually write. Can be read as ship or as best friends who are really *really* weird about each other. Harry POV, featuring a high-composure Harry who never figured out his sexuality. A bit of work, a lot of board games, jokes, then Harry manages to *somehow* convince Kim to accept a massage that definitely doesn't get really homoerotic. <- heavy sarcasm

Rubber, Meet Ultraviolet (Finished, with a chapter left for a epilogue that I'll write at a later date) 46k: (x)

This is porn... *coughs* ...Role reversal (Harry is usually the sub, they try something new and have to - quite literally - work out the kinks) I mused about Kim being a bit of a brat and Harry making a god-awful brat tamer, then it turned into an exploration of Kim's PTSD and martyr complex. Because I also have PTSD and apparently can't stop writing about it. There's porn, there's plot, there's just a smattering of metaphors and some guy gets shot in the head. Disco Elysium baybeeeee~ Kim POV.

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Two)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: He’s finally back baybeeeee!

Simon’s out here making moves in this one. It's pretty long and a complete rollercoaster of emotions. I could have split this one into two chapters but I’m lazy so… lmao

Also, Mard means being a whiny little baby, just for reference. 

Placebo - English Summer Rain

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

Hold your breath and count to ten

Then fall apart and start again

Hold your breath and count to ten

Start again, start again

Hold your breath and count to ten

Then fall apart and start again

Simon's body felt like it weighed a tonne. He leaned against the elevator wall, eyes closed as he fought an exhaustion so deep, it clawed at his insides. The last ten months had been more gruelling than anything he'd ever done, but it was done now. He'd done it. The pride he felt tugging in his chest was almost overwhelming and he couldn't wait to see Lottie. She obviously knew he made it, but he wanted to tell her how well he did, wanted her to be proud of him. 

God, he'd missed her. Being away from her with zero contact had been worse than the RTI training and he couldn't wait to get inside and grab her. He wondered how she'd been these past months, if she was alright. He'd been planning on ringing his mum to let her know he was back and asking how Charlotte had been, yet he'd been far too tired. It was only 9.43 pm but he hadn't slept in what felt like forever. The training had ended and he'd been shoved right back on a plane back for his leave before it started for real.

His muscles were firmer, bigger, than before he left. He hadn't been out of shape in the least but all this training had toned him up even more. He wondered if Lottie would like it or not, wondered a lot about what went on in her head. As the lift doors opened, he breathed a sigh of relief before stepping out and trudging his way to their apartment. The second he'd got on the plane, he'd been itching to just get home, get in bed with Lottie all to himself so he could fall asleep with her in his arms again finally. He'd had to make one stop before getting home but now he was here. 

His lips quirked up as he saw the Halloween decorations on the door. A little spooky wreath with pumpkins and ghosts, a real carved pumpkin with a lit candle just outside the door to the right. There was still a couple of days until Halloween but clearly, his girl had been busy. He eased the door open slowly, instantly being greeted by music. Placebo. He tried to place the song and it didn't hit him until he heard some lyrics. English Summer Rain. 

He looked around, seeing Charlotte in the kitchen area in one of his t-shirts and either tiny shorts or just her knickers, he couldn't tell. She was messing about with something in the oven, her body dancing about a bit to the music. He watched her with an amused smirk as she took a tray out of the oven and heavily set it on the counter. The smell drifted over to him and he almost groaned at the delicious cinnamon smell. She was singing along, swaying her hips and having a good time. It was such a lovely sight to come home to and he wanted to burn it into his brain for the rest of his days.

She turned around, yelping loudly with a hand flying to her chest as he watched her with a fond grin. It took her a moment for her brain to register what she was seeing but then her eyes widened, a face splitting grin on her lips before she squealed and ran around the counter. He dropped his duffle bag just in time to catch her, lifting her up as her legs wrapped around his waist. 

He felt the same feeling he had after getting home with his last deployment, like his thirst was being quenched after being denied water for far too long. He held her close, greedily inhaling her scent as he nuzzled the side of her face. She pulled her head away to look down at him and his heart felt like it expanded in size at the look she gave him. She gripped either side of his face with her small hands, looking at him like she wasn't sure he was real. 

“Hello, love,” he murmured and her eyes turned glassy, her smile watery. 

“I missed you,” she didn't give him time to respond because her lips were then on his. He sighed softly, body relaxing as he kissed her back and enjoyed the comfort it brought him. When she pulled away, he couldn't tear his eyes off her.

“I missed you too,” he breathed, glad to be finally back with her. “Somethin’ smells good,” he commented, his stomach growling at the sweet scent filling the apartment. 

“Cinnamon rolls, your mum taught me how to make them,” a deep and steadying warmth wrapped around him at her words, something tugging in his chest at the idea of his mum being here and taking care of her, of teaching her things. She looked so proud of herself too. She wriggled until he let her go and he instantly felt the loss of her against him, watching as she rushed over to the kitchen. 

“Sit down, I’ll be over in a minute,” she smiled over her shoulder at him and he complied simply because he felt ready to pass out. He groaned as the couch swallowed him whole, sinking deeper into the cushions as his body started to relax thoroughly. She came over not too long later with a cinnamon roll in her hand and a can of Guinness. He raised a brow at her with an amused smile and she snorted, handing them over to him.

“Didn’t know when you’d be back, figured I'd get some in for you,” she explained sheepishly. 

“Appreciate it, love,” he murmured, popping the can open and taking a long swig of it with a content sigh. He took a large bite of the cinnamon roll, eyes practically rolling back into his head with how amazing it tasted. 

“Good then?” she asked hopefully and he nodded eagerly, munching the rest of it easily.

“Perfect,” he hummed, licking the icing off his fingers that was still wet. He presumed she’d just put it on when she was in the kitchen. She beamed a smile at him, so pretty it fucking hurt him. That smile was the only thing in his mind when the SAS was putting him through the ringer, making sure he wouldn't spill his secrets to the enemy. He knew he was strong willed, growing up with an abusive father would do that to you, but she’d strengthened his resolve even more. She’d helped him get through the whole ordeal, the prospect of getting back to her and making her proud driving him on.

“How did it go then? Was it hard? Did they hurt you?” she asked, hovering so close she might as well be on top of him, not that he’d complain at all. 

“Was alright, bit rough but I got through it. Made it through top five,” he couldn't help the pride in his voice knowing not only did he get through, but he ranked high up enough to get noticed. Her face lit up with a wide smile and his pride flared even more. 

“I knew you could do it!” she grinned and his heart stuttered in his chest. She leaned over, pressing her lips to his sweetly, making him melt all over again. When she pulled away, her eyes scanned his tired face as he blinked slowly at her and she smiled sweetly at him, taking the can from his hand and putting it on the coffee table.

“You wanna go to bed? You look shattered,” she murmured, her hand running through his short hair and making him shiver slightly. Part of him wanted to protest because he’d only just got home, felt like he’d spent no time with her. He was tired though and laying in bed with her wrapped around him sounded divine right about now. He had plans for the next day anyway and he knew he needed the rest.

“Sounds good, love,” he smiled and she nodded as she got up. She was already ready for bed and he stripped off to just his boxers before heavily flopping into bed. She wasted no time crawling in beside him, giggling when he snaked his arms around her and pulled her to lay her head on his chest. She wrapped a leg around him and he felt an overwhelming comfort at feeling her pressed against him like this. The last ten months had been hell trying to sleep without her.

“I love you so much,” he muttered sleepily, feeling her smile against his chest.

“I love you too,” she replied softly, snuggling closer to him. Having her so close, being able to feel her, smell her, it soothed all of his fried nerves and his body finally felt safe, finally felt okay to relax and let go. He drifted off to sleep easily, better than he had in months. 

“Riley, CO wants you.”

Simon looked over at the man who he couldn't seem to place, someone a little higher up than he was here. He nodded, wondering what he’d done to call the attention of his superior, hoping he hadn’t fucked up somehow since he was new here. He’d felt secure in his place in the army, knowing his squad and his CO there well. This was different and it was strange to be back at the start all over again, even if he was still ranked as a Sergeant. He made his way to his CO’s office, back straight, head held high. He was pretty sure he hadn’t messed up so he wondered what he wanted, hoped it wasn't about a deployment so soon. Lottie would kill him. 

He knocked on the wooden door and heard the man tell him to come in. He walked inside, standing at the other side of the desk, looking at the older man with greying hair.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked, feeling a pinch of nerves when the man frowned in a weird way. A pitying way.

“Sit down, son,” he ordered and something in his tone set Simon on edge, so much so that he ignored his CO’s order. 

“What is it?” he asked warily and the man heaved a sigh, running a hand over his weary face.

“You need to go to the hospital. They called and need you to identify a body,” he informed him and suddenly, Simon's world stopped turning. A body. Someone was dead.

“Who is it? My mum? Is it Charlotte?” he asked rapidly, swaying on his feet as his blood pressure skyrocketed. His CO stood up, rushing over to him and steadying him where he stood.

“They wouldn't tell me, Simon, I’m sorry. You just need to get over there,” he frowned sadly and Simon was sure he’d throw up. 

Everything was a blur. One minute he was in his CO’s office, the next he was standing in the hallway of the hospital. He wasn't sure how he even got here, his brain completely shutting down on him. The sign on the door in front of him said morgue and his chest caved in, ragged with his rough breathing. He pushed the door open, his lower lip wobbling at the table lay out there, someone under a sheet. He couldn't breathe, pitiful noises leaving his lips as he took slow steps towards the sheet. 

“Are you ready, Mr Riley?” he looked up, seeing a woman in a hospital uniform giving him a sad look, standing at the head of the body. He wanted to say no, wanted to tell her he couldn’t face knowing whoever was under there was dead, because no matter who it was, it would ruin him. He nodded his head though, needing to know. She pulled the sheet down, revealing his precious angel and the noise he made was that of a wounded animal. 

“No… no, no, no,” he wept, stumbling over to her as he shook his head frantically. She looked so peaceful as she lay there, serene, as if she was in a deep sleep. She couldn't be dead, she couldn't be, it wasn't fair. Deep gut wrenching sobs ripped out of his throat as he cradled her face. Her skin was ice cold and he internally begged her to wake up, for it all to be a dream. 

“Come on, Simon, what you being mard for?” a rough voice asked him and he tearfully whipped around to see none other than his weathered father standing there. Something was very wrong though because Simon had to look up to see him, not down at him like the last time he’d seen him. He frowned in confusion, turning back to the table with Lottie on it, only to be a few foot shorter. He yelped, a hard hand gripping the back of his neck harshly and jostling his body.

“Stop your whinin’, you stupid boy! Laugh!” his father bellowed, shoving him closer to the body of his beloved. 

“Dad, no! Stop!” he pleaded, his voice nothing like that he was used to, not anymore. His dad pressed his face against Charlotte’s, only now she didn't look serene, she didn't look peaceful. Her dead eyes were wide open in terror, mouth contorted in an unnatural way. He started yelling, pushing back the hold his dad had on him as his dad started to laugh like a man deranged. 

“Stop it! Please, stop!” he begged, tears streaming down his face as he couldn't fight against his fathers hold on him, couldn't get away.

He flew up with a heaving gasp, his lungs burning and his body on fire. There was a loud pitch ringing in his ears and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Suddenly, he felt hands grabbing at him, making him panic and lurch away. It caused him to fall off his side of the bed with a thud. He blinked slowly at the dark ceiling and then squinted when the bedroom light came to life with no warning. The ringing in his ears started to subside, his breathing regulating a little, but then Charlotte came into view, peering down at him in concern and he felt shame and embarrassment worm its way so deep inside of him that it was rotting his bones. 

A nightmare, of course it was. Or more like a nightmare mixed with a memory. How fucked was that then? He'd not had a single nightmare since he'd started his relationship with Charlotte, since the very first night they fucking met. It had been a pure relief for him, reprieve from the torment that always seemed to plague him. She'd made it all better, taken away his past pain, but now they decided to start back up. 

He knew why, he wasn't fucking stupid. The stress of his SAS training had cracked his fucking dome in, ripped down the walls that Charlotte had so lovingly put up for him to keep his nightmares at bay. The nightmare might not have been about the torture he endured in training but he knew that's what triggered it. 

It wasn't that he did badly, in fact he passed with flying colours unlike some of the other hopefuls that wound up too traumatised to carry on. But it was brutal and there wasn't a single SAS soldier alive who could say they came out of that training without some mental fucking scars. It had ripped barely healed wounds right open for him and he felt so disgusted with himself. He felt weak and it was only made worse by the barely concealed pity in his girl's eyes. He never wanted her to look at him like that. Like she felt fucking sorry for him. He was better than this, stronger. 

“Are you okay?” She asked sweetly, her voice low and calm like she was talking to a spooked animal. It poked at the raw wound pulsating in his chest and he felt an uncomfortable heat building inside of him. She held her hand out for him and he ignored it as he hopped to his feet. He could feel his face burning in shame as he refused to look at her.

“I'm fine,” he bit out, needing desperately to get away from her and those sad blue eyes. He started stomping off and out of the room, hearing her rushed footsteps behind him. 

“Simon…“ she murmured, pity and worry coating her words like she didn't know what to say and he couldn't take it. 

“I said I'm fuckin' fine! Just leave it!” He snapped, rushing into the bathroom and slamming the door so hard, the mirror above the sink wobbled. 

Regret hit him like a freight train instantly at talking to her like that and he gripped the edge of the sink, lowering his head as he heaved ragged breaths. She didn't deserve that, she just wanted to help him. Had a heart of fucking gold and he just ripped it to shreds. He hated himself. Hated himself more when he heard a pitiful sniffle from outside the door where he'd left her and his chest felt like it was caving in on himself. What a bastard he was, just like his dad. The rage flowed through him to such a degree it worried him, the urge to punch the mirror and shatter the useless piece of shit staring back at him. He pushed it down though, taking long and deep breaths as he tried to allow the feelings to pass. His poor sweet girl. Fuck. 

He scrubbed at his eyes, feeling sick when he found them damp and he shook his head. It wasn't her fault his father had been a mean bastard. Wasn't her fault that even though he wasn't a weak boy anymore that his past still haunted him. He didn't want to be that monster, didn't want to be his fucking father. He was better than that, he knew he was. He still felt that lingering grief at losing her that his nightmare had evoked. It felt so real, that loss of her, so harrowing he knew he’d fucking off himself if that ever happened. His life wouldn't be worth living. 

With a shaky breath and heavy chest, he pushed open the bathroom door. As he walked out, he saw Charlotte in the kitchen in only his shirt that swamped her. Her back was to him as she fussed over a cup and he noticed it was his cup, she didn't have one. He'd bit her head off and here she was, making him a fucking brew. And he knew before he even said anything she was blaming herself, somehow justifying his bullshit as her fault, that she deserved it and it made him feel nasty inside. Made him feel like a vile cunt for contributing to her already ruined self esteem. She hadn't noticed him as she stirred the tea and his heart clenched when her spare hand wiped quickly at her eyes. 

“Love…” he murmured contritely, shame weighing on him heavily only this time it was less to do with embarrassing himself. She whipped around to look at him and he wanted to strangle himself at her red rimmed and glassy eyes. 

“Are you-” she started as if on instinct but then her mouth clamped shut like she didn't want another earful off him. It made his shoulders slump as he carefully approached her. “I-I made you tea,” she muttered with a wobbly voice, forcing a smile for him as she grabbed the cup. He winced, eyes burning as he blinked quickly. 

“I'm sorry,” he breathed tearfully, his voice cracking as he looked at her and how unsure she seemed to be around him. She looked at him and then the cup still in her hands, shifting on her feet. 

“It's okay, you were going through stuff,” she shrugged with a shake of her head and he frowned. He grabbed the cup from her hand and put it on the counter, causing her to look at him warily. He grasped at one of her hands, pressing it against his chest where his ruthless heart lay beating steadily. 

“Don't do that. Don't ever make excuses for me when I act like a bastard, Charlotte. You never deserve me to snap at you like that,” he insisted firmly. He wouldn't do this to her, wouldn't become his father, wouldn't be a mean twat. He wouldn't tear her to pieces like a piece of paper. She looked uncomfortable and he knew her brain was having a hard time with accepting his words, always thinking she was at fault. He was grateful she didn't argue with him though, he didn't have it in him right now. She nodded, her thumb rubbing against his chest soothingly. 

“I forgive you,” she whispered and while he felt relieved, he still felt like a bastard about it because he knew she'd forgive him no matter what he did. Knew she'd never hold him responsible for fucking anything. 

“I love you,” his voice sounded pleading almost, but for what he didn't know. He hurt her and he needed her to know that he loved her more than anything. A pretty smile graced her face and she took his limply hanging hand. She mimicked him, pressing it against her heart that he could feel fluttering against his hand. 

“I love you too. And I'm always here, whether you need someone to talk to or you need space. Just let me know,” she said quietly and he knew she was right. He'd always kept his work away from her and he still intended to but she deserved to know what upset him like this. While nightmares were something he was used to, Charlotte wasn't aware of that. This was new for her to see him this way because she usually kept them away. 

He grabbed his cup with one hand, her hand with the other before he led her to the couch. He set his tea on the coffee table before sitting down and tugging her to sit with him. As she went to sit next to him, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to straddle him. She came willingly, settling against his chest like she belonged there, her head lay on his shoulder and her nose against his neck. His arms encircled her instantly, seeking out closeness and comfort. 

Maybe it wasn't a bad thing to go to her after something like this, instead of pushing her away. He felt his muscles relax instantly under her touch. She waited patiently as she lay there with him, her fingers drawing patterns on his bare chest and he allowed one of his hands to slide up her back under his shirt she was wearing, wanting to feel her skin. 

“It was a nightmare,” he started with a low voice and it felt like she pressed herself closer at his admission.

“Was it the training?” She asked in a whisper, her voice caring and gentle. He pressed his nose against her head, breathing in her scent deeply and allowing it to soothe him.

“Was and it wasn't. Wasn't about what happened there but… but it dragged a lot of shit up for me. Stuff with my dad,” he admitted. He could feel his cheeks heat up at talking about it so openly despite the fact she already knew about his father. She moved to sit up then as if sensing the gravity of the conversation. 

She gave him a soft look as her hands smoothed up his chest. His hands wandered her body before settling on her thighs, rubbing and squeezing them like they were a squishy stress toy. He could have left it at that admission and be done with it, she wasn't prying for more information, but he found himself wanting to tell her, needing to get the poison out of his system once and for all. 

“You know what he was like, the shit he did, but… one of the worst was… He took me to this metal concert, a band he liked. Drug use was just part and parcel of bein' there. At one point I couldn't find him so I went lookin’... Found him in the bathroom with a prostitute. They were shootin’ up in one of the stalls, only… only she was fuckin' dead. OD’d on the bullshit. And my dad, he… he found it fuckin' hilarious, forced me to stare at her, force me to laugh at her dead body,” he grit out, eyes unseeing for a moment as he felt the same feelings he felt all those years ago. Fear, disgust, shame, sadness. His dad hadn't saw any worth in the woman just because she was a sex worker but she was someone's daughter. Maybe someone sister or mother or aunt. She was a person and he'd been forced to look at her lifeless body and laugh like she was nothing but the butt of a bad joke. He couldn't bring himself to tell her his nightmare was a twist of that memory, that she’d been dead instead of the prostitute. 

He was dragged out of his miserable thoughts when Charlotte's warm hands cupped his cheeks, making his dark eyes snap to hers. Her brows were pinched together as her thumbs swiped over his cheeks. 

“You didn't deserve to go through that,” she muttered and his fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs at the concern in her eyes. It wasn't so much pity as just not liking the fact he'd been through something like that. The same feelings he had when thinking of her past. 

“I really hope I get to meet him one day so I can kick him in the nuts,” she huffed, a scowl on her pretty face. Despite everything, his lips quirked up at the image she’d provided him with. He knew she couldn't hurt a fly, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. 

“You gonna beat him up for me?” he asked in amusement and she gave him a wry grin.

“Damn right I will,” she said firmly and his smile widened. Fuck, he loved her. How she managed to bring him back from the brink of his own dark mind was beyond him. He wasn't sure how he’d cope if he didn't have her in his life. One of his hands left her thigh, moving to cup her cheek. He enjoyed how she always leaned into his touch.

“You mean the world to me, love,” he murmured, eyes shining at her affectionately. He was sure he looked moon eyed as he gazed at her, nothing but a lovesick fool. The prettiest smile painted her lips and he was breathless, struck by how absolutely stunning she was. And she was all his. She leaned in, pecking his lips with a sweet kiss as she smiled at him.

“You mean the world to me too.” He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve her love but he was damn sure gonna keep it. He’d do whatever it took to keep her by his side. His nightmare had been harrowingly realistic and he’d felt every emotion as if it had played out in real life. He knew what it felt like to lose her and he didn't think he’d ever shake that feeling for as long as he lived. He took comfort in her weight on him, in feeling her warm breath fanning his neck as she tucked herself neatly there, at feeling her chest expand with each breath, pressing against his. He’d make sure he never felt that feeling again.

When Simon woke up the next morning, his neck was stiff as a board. It took him a moment to get his bearings, realising he was asleep lay on the couch. The night before came back to him, the nightmare, Charlotte comforting him. They’d stayed on the couch all night and she’d wound up getting her Grimm’s book, reading to him. He must have fallen asleep. But now he was wondering where the hell she was and he sat up, looking over the couch and seeing her flitting about in the kitchen. He groaned softly, stretching his sore muscles from the way he’d slept and he felt bad for falling asleep on her like that, for waking her up with his nightmare to begin with. He stood up, rubbing his tired eyes as he padded into the kitchen. 

She looked over at him, radiant smile on her lips that always punched him in the chest every time he saw it. She was wearing just one of his shirts and he knew it was his favourite outfit on her. 

“Good mornin’, love,” he murmured, his voice slightly raspy from sleep. 

“Good afternoon,” she replied wryly, a smirk tugging at her lips as his brows shot up. He looked at the clock quickly, seeing it was indeed 12.46 pm. He hadn’t realised he’d slept for so long but fuck knows, he needed it. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he frowned, feeling bad about waking up so late. 

“Don’t be. You were proper knackered, especially after… waking up like you did. You needed the rest,” she smiled sweetly at him. He noticed the pan then and the smell of eggs and he felt a tugging in his chest.

“Eggy bread?” he asked hoarsely, so many memories hitting him all at once it made his head spin. The little smile on her face made him think she was aware of what was going on in his head.

“Your mum taught me how to make it. She said she’d try and make it for you and Tommy on special occasions, so…” she trailed off, looking somewhat uncertain. The tugging in his chest got worse and worse, the gesture touching him. He had so many lovely memories tied to this simple dish, memories of his mother trying her best for him and his brother, despite their awful father. 

“What we celebratin’, then?” he asked curiously, trying to rid the emotion clogging up his throat. She gave him a funny look, tilting her head at him.

“You,” she said simply and he just blinked at her. “You being back here, you getting through the SAS stuff with flying colours,” she added softly and he felt his ears burning at the tips. The idea of being celebrated was foreign to him, especially if it wasn't his birthday, but it touched him and he smiled down at her. 

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, making her beam a smile at him. He was excited for the food, he hadn't had it in a while and he always enjoyed it. 

“You're welcome. You can get something on if you want, it's almost done,” she grinned, gesturing to his state of undress in just his boxers. He did have plans for the day she was unaware of so it would do him good to get dressed. He leaned down, kissing her lips with a smile before he sauntered off to the bedroom. 

The bed was neatly made now, unlike the disarray he left it in after his nightmare. Everything was back where it should be. He got himself into some dark jeans and the sage green jumper she’d bought him at some point. She really loved him in jumpers apparently. He came out as she was plating up and his stomach growled loudly as he moved to sit at the dining table. A plate full of eggy bread and beans was placed in front of him and he didn't even wait for her, digging in and making her laugh at him. She joined him, her own plate with the same but a little less food as they ate together. It was so nostalgic for him, remembering every birthday he and Tommy had where his mother managed to make it for them. It had become a routine and one he’d cherished as a child. 

He couldn't help but steal glances at her as they ate, wondering if she was even real. He had half a mind to think he was in some insane asylum somewhere and this whole thing was a figment of his imagination. How was it possible for someone to be so kind and caring, to be so loving and giving? 

“What?” she asked after catching him, wiping her face as if she thought she had food there. 

“Nothin’, you're just…” he trailed off, nerves and excitement blooming in his stomach at the plans he had for the day, his feelings for her only getting stronger with each passing second he spent with her. 

“I’m just what?” she asked, eyeing him warily and he smiled warmly at her.

“Perfect,” he supplied simply. She flushed delightfully, looking down with a bashful smile on her face.

“We’ve been over this,” she rolled her eyes playfully but her blush didn't ease. He wanted to launch himself over the table and fuck her into next week when she looked all coy and shy like this. Wanted to make her sing.

“Yeah, yeah. No one’s perfect and all that. Except that's a load of bollocks, ‘cause you are,” he argued with a smirk and he didn't think it was possible, but she blushed even harder. 

She wouldn’t look at him for a moment, a shy smile she was trying to suppress still on her face. When she lifted those beautiful blue eyes to his, he wanted to drop to his knees in reverence to her. 

“If I’m perfect, then so are you,” she muttered, almost pouting and he chuckled at her. He wasn't going to argue with her because he knew she wouldn't hear any of it. If he had to go along with her bullshit so she’d accept a bloody compliment off him then he’d do it. They finished their food off with shared smiles and blushes on her part. before he got up, taking both their plates over to the sink and ignoring Lottie’s protests as he did.

“Get your arse dressed, got some shit planned,” he ordered from the sink, not even looking at her as his nerves expanded from his stomach to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Oooh, where are we going?” she asked excitedly and he was surprised when she suddenly wrapped her arms around him from behind. She’d really turned the tables on him since this was what he usually liked to do to her and he knew it must of looked bonkers from the other side with her being so small. He smiled to himself as her hands slid up his jumper, smoothing up his muscles and drawing a happy little hum from her. 

“Not tellin’ you, so get dressed,” he smirked and she heaved a large sigh, resting her forehead on his back.

“Fine,” she almost whined but he could hear the smile in her voice even if he couldn’t see it. A kiss was placed on his back before her arms disappeared and he found himself longing for her again already. Was mad how he fucking missed her even though she was right there, how the fuck did that work?

As she dressed, he got the kitchen nice and clean, putting everything away when he was done. He noticed something on the fridge then that he hadn't noticed the night before, being as tired as he was. It was a picture tacked to the fridge with a little heart magnet and the picture made his heart stutter against his ribs. It was a picture of Lottie holding little Joseph. He hadn't seen the boy since he got back yet but he’d grown already so much. By Simon’s calculations, he’d be 11 months now. He wondered what milestones he’d missed, was he walking yet? Joseph was sitting on Lottie’s knee with a precious smile on his chubby little face and Lottie was looking at him like he was the second coming of Christ. It was the same look she’d worn at the hospital when she looked at him, now encapsulated in a photograph. It stirred so many feelings in him as he looked at it.

“Me, Beth and Jo went to town, had dinner at Cafe Metro. Beth took the picture, I didn't even realise she’d taken it until after she had it printed.” He jumped, not even hearing her come back in and he whipped around to see her now dressed. 

She was wearing an outfit he hadn’t been privy to yet and he wondered if she'd gotten it when he was away. The skirt was black, high waisted and long, reaching her calves and fitted to her silhouette exquisitely, a slit going up the side no doubt to help her walk with ease. She’d put on some black tights and her top was a cropped jumper, the colour almost matching his with the pretty green colour she loved so much. The amused smirk on her face had him wondering if she’d picked it to match him on purpose. 

“Is this okay?” she asked as she looked down at herself, still having no idea what he had planned. A hum reverberated low in his throat and he grasped her hips, pulling her closer to him greedily and making her giggle as her hands spread over his chest.

“Perfect. Love the skirt,” he hadn’t meant it to but his voice came out a mere growl as his hands slid around to her arse. The skirt hugged her perfectly and he was enjoying how it clung to her curves. 

“Remind me to wear it again, then,” she grinned cheekily, perching up on her tiptoes to give him a slow and languid kiss that set his blood on fire. He hadn’t taken her since he got back yet and as much as he wanted to put her over the table and rut into her until she was sobbing with pleasure, they had shit to do. 

“Stop distractin’ me, you little minx. Shoes and coat on,” he ordered, giving her arse a smack for good measure before ushering her off. She laughed as she moved away, eyes twinkling with mischief as she went off to do as she was told, pulling her Docs on with her leather jacket. He moved to put his hoodie on before slipping off into the bedroom. 

He shut the door before quickly hurrying over to his duffel bag by the bed that he still hadn’t emptied. He crouched, tilting his head to keep his ear out for a moment and when he couldn't hear Lottie at all, he unzipped the bag and rummaged around at the bottom of it. Once he found what he was looking for, he grabbed it, slipping it into his pocket. When he left the room, his girl was fully ready and patiently waiting for him. She shot him a beautiful smile as he approached and he smiled back, unable not to when she made his chest so warm.

“Ready?” he asked her, getting a nod in return.

“Ready.”

He was stalling and he knew he was but he really couldn't help it, not when nerves kept seizing his limbs in a vice. It wasn't that he was having second thoughts, his mind was firmly set and nothing would change that, but how the fuck was he to know how she’d react? That was the terrifying part, to put himself out there so openly and be rejected. He knew she loved him, he didn’t doubt that for a second but it didn’t mean she would go along with his crazy fucking plan now, did it? They were in the city centre and he’d taken her shopping. She’d outright refused at first, telling him they were supposed to be celebrating him and not her, but he promptly told her that since they were celebrating him, he should be able to do whatever he wanted, including spoiling his girlfriend. That had shut her up for a bit. He loved spoiling her though and eventually, she’d given in, knowing there was no use in fighting him and allowed him to just buy her shit. 

They’d gotten some Lush, easing her mind a little when he told her he fully expected to get in those baths with her and enjoy the bath bombs and bubble bars she’d gotten. He got her some clothes but she didn't want much, said the clothes weren’t worth the money and he had to admit he agreed, even if she did force him to treat himself to some bits and pieces. They’d sat in Waterstones too for a bit, gathering a small collection of books for the pair of them and enjoying the quiet atmosphere in there as they perused the shelves. 

It was a nice day, calming, to just walk about with her like this. But as the day had worn on, that biting anxiety had started to get more and more intense until he couldn't ignore it. Couldn’t ignore it when he took her to the same Italian place they’d gone to all that time ago. She’d been so happy about it and he’d spent the entire time feeling like he might pass out with how light headed he was feeling. She’d picked up on it embarrassingly enough. Apparently he looked pale and worse for wear and he’d lied right to her face, told her he was just feeling under the weather. Felt like a right bastard when she’d taken his hand across the table and suggested they go home so she could look after him. He only agreed because he needed to get this over with. The longer he waited, the worse these feelings would be and he really didn’t want to fuck the whole thing up because he was panicking. Knowing the potential to ruin absolutely everything, he was losing his damn mind. 

“Are we not getting the bus?” she asked softly, her hand clasping his as they strolled down the dark street. The lamp posts were the only thing illuminating it, giving it a slightly yellow tinge. 

“Yeah, just not this one,” he murmured and she looked at him with realisation and a pretty smile, curling her other hand around his arm, practically hugging it. 

“Are we taking a trip down memory lane?” she asked cheekily, fluttering those long lashes at him. It always surprised him that all he had to do was look at her and he remembered he was a fucking goner for her. Absolutely done in, had no chance. 

“Maybe,” he replied, making her smile widen as she leaned her head on his arm for a moment. 

She was practically clinging to him and he was soaking every little bit of her affection up. When they got to the same bus stop he met her at, the feelings inside his chest were whirling around like a hurricane. He watched her, completely enraptured as she looked around, not having been here in a bit. Was nothing remarkable, just a fucking bus stop, but it changed everything. She made a move to sit at the bench but his hand tightened around hers, pulling her back over to him as she blinked up at him in question.

“I… think about this bus stop a lot,” he confessed, his heart thumping hard against his chest. “It’s mad really… I coulda gone to any one of ‘em, yet… I was here and then you came along.” he hadn't really prepared a speech. God knows he bloody tried but this kind of stuff didn't come easy to him and he’d given up trying to script it, decided to just wing it but now he wasn't sure his words were the right ones or that it was coming out the way he wanted it to. His free hand moved to stroke her cheek as she looked at him with those wide and loving eyes, a sweet smile toying on her lips.

“I’m really glad you chose this bus top,” she murmured as she gave his hand a squeeze. He smiled but it was shaky, much like his breathing as he stepped even closer to her, his thumb swiping over her slightly flushed cheek. He needed to just get it out of him, purge it from his system and so the flood gates opened and the words just tumbled right out of him.

“You know I’m not good with words. I wish I could tell you just how much you mean to me but I don’t think there's any words in the English language to do it justice. Tellin’ you that I love you just doesn't feel enough. You came into my life with all your light and chased all the shadows away, you gave me things I never thought I wanted or deserved. I didn't think… I never thought I could love like I do with you, never thought I could be loved. You’ve changed my life completely and I’m a better man for it, for you. I realised somethin’ back before I went off for selection, fuckin’ hit me like a freight train and then I couldn’t shake it. I knew I wanted this, us, you, forever. I knew that you're it for me, all I’ll ever need,” she was watching him intently, eyes shining slightly as she looked at him like she couldn't quite comprehend his words and he knew her insecure brain was probably trying to wrap her head around it. He took a deep and shaky inhale, letting go of her hand and her face, making her brows furrow slightly. 

“Charlotte… I… fuck… “ his heart was galloping a mile a minute and he could feel his pulse in his neck. He was sure he was about to keel over from a medical emergency with the way his body was carrying on. He wanted to continue his grand speech, wanted to keep declaring his undying love for her but the words got stuck in his throat as he felt his blood pressure skyrocket. He shoved his hand in his pocket, grabbing what was in there before he dropped down heavily to one knee, opening the box to reveal a silver ring with a diamond in the centre. 

“Will you marry me, love?” his voice was bordering on hysterical pleading as his wide eyes implored at her from where he kneeled. The rapid beating of his heart only increased when she stared at him unblinking and he started to worry he’d made a colossal mistake by doing this. Maybe it was too soon, maybe she didn't even want to get married, he’d never bothered to ask her thoughts on the subject because he didn't think he was the marrying type himself. 

“You… you wanna marry me?” he was broken out of his musings by her soft and incredulous voice and he was just glad she started blinking again.

“Would be mental not to,” he confessed quietly, meaning his words wholeheartedly. His heart was in his throat, completely at her mercy on the floor with his beating heart in her hands. Despite his concern of her crushing it right before his eyes, soft tears fell down her pretty cheeks, a radiant smile curling her lips.

“Yes,” she laughed tearfully and he blinked dumbly at her for a moment, sure he’d heard wrong.

“Yes?” he breathed, hope coating his tone painfully. She wiped her eyes with a laugh, her smile the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. 

“Yeah,” she grinned. The feeling that exploded inside of him felt like a mini heart attack. He couldn't even put it into words, happiness felt too menial of a word. He’d never felt anything quite like this feeling of pure elation and he had a smile of his own on his face, grabbing her hand once she gave it to him and putting the ring on her finger with a shaky hand. He practically bounced up to his feet before capturing her lips in a desperate kiss that she eagerly melted into. She said yes. She was going to be his wife, he was going to fucking marry her. Charlotte Riley, he really liked the sound of that.

[cicaklah]

Ohhh what's that? Ask game asks?? :D

15) What's your favourite plotless fic you have written?

16) Are one-shots really underrated?

22) What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again?

ask game ask game!!!!

favourite plotless fic: ooh this was hard. what even is a plot? I think I'm going to go with the pitfalls of control, but honourable mention is take it easy for a little while.

are one shots underrated: as someone writing a connected series of one shots at the moment, I think yeah they are. They often only have a small amount of time to make an impression, and so something that is released chapter by chapter makes more of an impression than anything else.

I answered the idiots falling in love but: Psychology baybeeeee

[halberdierminister]

AFTER TWO LONG YEARS

AN ILLEGITIMATE LEGACY IS BACK BAYBEEEEE

Two fresh new chapters tonight!

Fic Series: A Legitimate Businessman

Author: Halberdier

Fandom: Problem Sleuth/Homestuck/Intermission

Universe: Noncanon, everyone-is-human-and-mostly-realistic AU

Genres: Genfic, Noir, Mystery, Action Comedy

Rating: T-M for Violence, Language, Alcohol and Tobacco Use, Child Endangerment, Some Implied Sexuality

Word Count: 70,392

Started May 14, 2012

Completed April 13, 2020

Sequel in Progress

Full Series Summary: Three private detectives strike an uncomfortable deal with one of the major crime syndicates in town, combining forces against greater threats both seen and unseen. It’s better than I’m making it sound. Trust me, I would know – I’m the narrator.

Act I: The Opening Act of a Legitimate Businessman

Intrepid sleuth Patrick Sloan must convince his associates to lay down their morals and throw in with a group of mobsters. And then he has to convince those mobsters to lay down their standards and throw in with him. Originally published as Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5, now compiled and edited in the above link.

Chapters: 5/5

Word Count: 12,069

Act II: The Best Laid Plans of a Legitimate Businessman

Agreeing to team up and being okay with it are two different things. But a deal is struck and a plan is made, and everyone does their best to prepare for a difficult and ill-advised heist. Some bridges are burned, some bridges are built. Lots of alcohol is consumed.

Chapters: 11/11

Word Count: 13,609

Act III: The End of a Legitimate Businessman

Ready or not, the day of the heist is here. Put down your pencils, time is up. Finish making nice. But of course, you’ll be coming back alive, right? Everything will go according to plan.

Chapters: 68/68

Word Count: 40,970

Act IV (Epilogue): The Continuing Story of a Legitimate Businessman

Reflecting on what happened, tying up some loose ends, and setting the course for lives forever changed.

Chapters 3/3

Word Count: 3,744

Sequel: An Illegitimate Legacy

Five years later, a certain someone has gone missing. It seems that the past is not as easy to escape as we’d hope.

Chapters 9/?

Word Count: ~11.8k in progress

[hwaslayer]

My bad for being a lil late for replying back but ayeee no wonder your music taste is great!! Ya know Filipinos be with the shits & know the tea about our music. Like there would be some real soulful singers who are Filipinos too! Y’all be knowing the deal I love it! 😂

Neways I still haven’t read the vibrant thing story, due to me being busy with work and not even having two days off in a row & no set schedule it’s annoying so I don’t even have the energy to read if it’s just one day off lol. but I just knoow it’s gonna be good. If it’s long chapters, the word count over 10k.. oh it’s definitely gonna hit different! I can’t wait to read the story fren! -🧜🏽‍♀️

hahahah baybeeeee!! i love you 🤣💞 don’t worry about reading vivrant thing!! it’ll always be there when you’re ready. but take care of yourself mamas!!! put yourself first and give yourself some me-time / peace time. 🫂😘 i got you!!!!!

[aberfaeth]

we don’t have to figure out what hasn’t happened yet

[Trees Nuts reunite for dinner, post Battle for the Cosmos.]

The six of them meet at a restaurant south of the tournament stadium, “A couple blocks away from the apartment,” Sestia says, through half a mouthful of garlic naan. Ekon can’t blame her. It’s truly fantastic garlic naan.

part of the sesdinikhil love languages series on ao3 by sav @grasslandgirl and i!

you can read it on ao3 here!

[gayazrael]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: League of Legends Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Shieda Kayn/Jarvan Lightshield IV, Katarina Du Couteau/Yasuo, Shieda Kayn & Katarina Du Couteau, Katarina Du Couteau & Jarvan Lightshield IV Characters: Shieda Kayn, Jarvan Lightshield IV, Katarina Du Couteau, Yasuo (League of Legends), Rhaast (League of Legends), General Marcus du Couteau, Jericho Swain, Sona Buvelle, Jinx (League of Legends), Viktor (League of Legends), Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, cosmic horror, Trans Male Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Odyssey AU, Pining, Mutual Pining

Summary:

Concerning the rise and fall of Ordinal Shieda Kayn, the hardships of cultivating a secret love for the most powerful man in the universe... and the fatal lure of absolute power.

[dirtysvthoughts]

𝓟 𝓡 𝓘 𝓥 𝓐 𝓣 𝓔 𝓓 𝓐 𝓝 𝓒 𝓔 𝓡 - CHAPTER THREE

pairing: prospective club owner! joshua x stripper! reader

word count: 2.2k

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, worldbuilding before the dirty stuff (be patient 😉), female! reader, mildly cocky! shua, dom! shua, power play/brat! reader, full nudity for reader, use of pet names (love, baby, sweetheart), shua tries to get reader to fall for him but to no avail (or yes avail?)

playlist songs: special affair - the internet, give me head - sweet the kid, na na - trey songz

notes: chapter 3 baybeeeee! sorry this took so long, but it’s finally here! i’m gonna start working on chapter 4 and that should be done vv soon! hope you enjoy besties!

taglist: @im-gemmy @enhacolor @hooniewnderland @svtup @kawaiikels @weeevrse @diorsfxck @kyexvly @woozarts @ifuckcheol @marsstarxhwa @haoxiaoba

“and i’m telling you, i don’t need any help, take your service elsewhere,” your boss, mia, says over the phone, curtly hanging it up afterwards. “fucking nuisance,” she mumbles under her breath as you enter her office.

“somethin’ happen?” you say as you shut the door behind you, away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“shouldn’t you be getting ready, sage?” mia says not even looking in your direction, fiddling with whatever paperwork is in front of her.

you roll your eyes, “it’s 5 PM, i only came here early to practice my new routine. plus, i needed to ask you something, but then i overheard you. you know i’m one of the few people you actually trust here. so seriously, what was that all about?”

she stops messing with the papers and finally directs her eyes towards you, breathing a heavy sigh. “okay, so you know the club has a few more debt payments before i can solely own this place right? well, this man i was on the phone with can more than likely wipe away the rest of the debt with a snap of a finger.”

“so if he can do that, why would you tell him to fuck off? i don’t get it.”

“because he wants to own majority of the business! all of the creative decisions, finances, even down to the dancers’ employment would be his decision. i’m not doing that! i’ve worked way too hard to get to where illusion is today. and do you know how many strip club owners are women? not a whole lot. this is my pride.”

you both sit in a minute of silence, her words repeating in your mind. she was right, so much went into this club and those who weren’t on the pole proved that a club could run without a man’s help or approval. and you knew your boss wasn’t desperate enough to give in just yet.

“well no one but you is gonna run club illusion. fuck another owner or a co-owner,” you firmly say as mia shakes her head and smiles, now directing her attention at her desktop, moving her mouse around.

“why do i like you so much, sage?”

“i dunno, i guess i have that effect on people,” you smile as you push your hair back, opening the door so you could start getting ready.

“by the way,” you say with one foot out the door, “what was the guy’s name?”

“somethin’ hong, i kept forgetting the name, why? does it ring a bell?”

“nah, just wanna have a name in mind just in case he shows up, you know they like doing that.”

“well let’s hope not,” she groans as she stretches her arms out. “i really don’t need the extra stress - i can already tell tonight’s gonna be extra for no reason.”

and crazy enough, your boss was right. security had to break up two fights, one of the dancers ended up getting sent home (she was overly drunk), and a bartender ended up quitting - all in the span of four hours.

you look at the clock on the wall, readjusting your bodysuit straps and making sure your makeup was still intact. it was finally midnight, which hopefully meant the rest of the night would be better until it was time for the club to close.

“crazy ass night huh?” your closest friend and fellow dancer, hana (also known as chardonnay) approaches you. she finds her makeup kit and grabs a brush, dolling up her face.

“who are you tellin? and it’s only thursday! if heads into the weekend,” you say but hana finishes your thoughts.

“oh hello no, do not manifest that energy. this weekend can be busy, but not crazy,” she puts her kit back in her corner and checks herself out.

min then walks into the dressing room, hastily scanning the area for one person. “hana!” she calls out, slightly panicking. “you have a whole party waiting for you and you’re talking in the dressing room?”

“i know min, i just had to make sure i was ready, sheesh,” hana rolls her eyes. “gimme five and i’ll be out. they can wait.”

“you better hurry up,” min says walking away, “mia already has had to deal with a lot of shit and i’m pretty sure the last thing she wants to deal with is y’all acting out.” she closes the door behind her and the music becomes muffled again.

“lemme head out there before even more hell gets raised,” hana sighs as she switches her clear heels for her champagne-colored ones. “i guess i’ll see you out there in a bit.” she and a few others leave the room, leaving the space nearly empty.

——

after checking yourself out, you finally head back on to the scene, deciding to walk around and look for clientele since you already performed on the main stage for tonight.

as you get deeper into the center, you notice a figure at one of the small, standing tables. intrigued, you walked closer and your body can’t deny it’s reaction when you see how handsome he is. his dress white shirt had a few buttons opened, his black hair styled to where not all of it was in his face, and his eyes? oh you felt like you could melt in them.

when you finally get close enough, you place your hand on his shoulder and he looks up at you, putting his glass of whiskey down. “hey there,” you smile flirty at him, and he responds by smiling back at you.

“hey beautiful,” he says in the most soft, yet incredibly sexy tone. “i haven’t seen you around before, are you new here?”

“oh, so you’ve been here before,” you say going to the opposite side of the table, your eyes not leaving is. “that’s interesting, considering i’ve never seen you, i practically have a sixth sense when it comes to this place.”

“mmm, different days, different times, maybe,” he picks up his glass and takes a sip and when he puts it down, you reach for his hand and take hold of it.

“well that can’t stop us from getting to know each other better,” you rub his hands softly. “what’s your name?”

“hong. joshua hong, to be more specific,” he says. “and yours?”

you try to keep a poker face, but you fail drastically as your expression changes. “hong?” you think to yourself. “hong.. why does it sound so familiar?”

you mind then recalls the conversation with mia, and you slowly remove your hand from his. “w-wait a minute, hong? are you a club owner or something?”

“actually i am, how did-” you interrupt him by scoffing and shaking your head, not believing what could’ve happened.

“no fucking way.. you’re the man that called my boss earlier today weren’t you? about wanting to own this place?”

“yeah, that was me,” he says with all the pride he can muster and it made you a little annoyed. “this place has so much potential, and it’s becoming one of the most popular clubs in the area. with my help, it can reach that and more! everyone would benefit.”

“look, hong - whoever you are, this club is doing fine. mia didn’t need a savior before and she doesn’t need one now, especially from some cocky motherfucker who he thinks he can change everything just by walking into the room.” you walk away ready to find another customer, but he comes in front of and stops you.

“you’re bold as hell.. i love that in a partner,” joshus says grinning as he begins to kiss the side of your neck teasingly, his lips feeling like a soft pillow. your body and your mind are now drastically confused. yes, he was trying to take over the club and you didn’t want that, but you couldn’t deny your physical attraction to him either.

after a few more seconds, joshua pulls away and smirks at you, clearly enjoying the fact that you were starting to break down your walls. he takes something out of his pocket and slides it into your hand, and when you feel it - it’s a thick wad of cash.

“let’s go upstairs baby,” joshua says as he pulls you towards him, having you lead the way. watching your surroundings, you firmly grab his hand and you lead him to the vip rooms, walking up the steps and then finding the closest, empty room.

unable to hold back anymore (and away from any other eyes), you sharply pull him closer to you and smash your mouth against his, hands roaming his hair as he walks backwards. when he reaches the edge of the couch, joshua gently sits down and pulls you onto his lap, his hands now palming your ass. you lowly moan at the feeling as you begin to roll your hips into him, his touches becoming more firmer as he squeezes your cheeks.

“you couldn’t resist me, could you?” joshua laughs to himself. “just a second ago you were telling me off, and now you’re like putty in my hands.”

“fuck you,” you moan out when he starts playing with the crotch of your bodysuit, dragging two fingers over the cloth. he continues the motion until he can start to feel a familiar dampness.

“awww cute, you wanna fuck me,” he gloats, dragging his fingers into your bodysuit, playing with your inside lips. he continues the motion for a few moments and then you muster every good bone left in your body, to pry his fingers away from your now dripping core.

“fuck, i shouldn’t be doing this.. i really shouldn’t be doing this,” you say hesitantly.

“well why not? we’re already here aren’t we? no one has to know, baby. this’ll be our little secret, m’kay?”

and that was all you needed to hear. this was definitely something you’d be carrying with you to the grave.

“fine. one round and then that’s it-” you can’t even finish your sentence before joshua slams his lips once again on yours, this time with more vigor and fever.

——

for the millionth time tonight, your body and your mind are in two conflicting states. how could something this bad be so incredibly good?

“m-mmm, sh-shua,” you moan into his ear as he thrusts into you, your bodysuit completely off and his pants pooling down at his ankles. “you feel amazing,” you continue to feel him up, pressing down on his shoulders. joshua hisses at the feeling, guiding your hands down to his waist so you can see and feel what he was doing to you.

“that’s all you,” he smiles as you move a bit to match his pace, almost moaning with you at the new intensity you both set. “with me here, you could have this every night, hmmm, maybe even more than that to be real with you.”

he was really trying to get you over, but for your sake - it couldn’t happen.

“and with you here, you’d probably take out 20% of my pay,” you chuckle but it’s immediately cut off when joshua thrusts sharply into you, causing you to hunch over and moan, almost loud enough to where someone could hear you.

“i thought you needed to be quiet? you’re fucking the new potential owner, can’t have everyone finding out, right?”

“fuck, fuck, f-fuck,” you whisper, joshua not sure if that was from the sex or if you were still frustrated that your morals have gone out the window.

you feel a tightening in your core, and you knew any minute that you were about to come. as he continues to thrust into you, the coils in your become smaller and more detailed.

“joshua, shua, i- mmmm, i-!” you call out for him and moments later, you juices leak on him. you relax into his chest, regulating your breathing to a slower pace.

——

“this doesn’t mean anything you know,” your back facing him as he helps you fix the strings on your bodysuit. “i’ve already crossed some lines that i can’t return from.”

“i keep telling you sweetheart, no one has to know. you’re making it seem like you have to tell the whole world.”

several thoughts run through your mind, including ones of him railing you from behind in one of the secluded vip rooms. you try and push them out of your head when you finally speak.

“and if i did want to see you again, how would i go about that?” joshua then hands you a business card and pats your back, signifying that he was done.

“just gimme a call love.”

you both walk out the room, and he turns to face you again, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “see you soon, baby.” he walks away, leaving you dazed and in suspended motion. you almost don’t hear your name being called out.

“sage!” hana calls out to you and you walk over to her.

“who was that? he’s so fucking hot! how’d you bag him?”

you sigh as you lie through your teeth, “he’s no one special. just another customer.”

[blueinkedcrowling]

Chapter Two: In which Mikey gets a hard dose of reality, and Casey gets tea pets

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Prime time baybeeeee!~ This time we’ve got trauma and tea pets! I hope you all enjoy it, and please let me know what you think!

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