#my arms have two different weights and its driving me NUTS

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 5

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child. 

a/n: surprise!!! it’s part 5!! i wont be home sunday so i wanted to post this today. i’m really iffy on this part because i wrote and rewrote a lot of the scenes because i wasn’t happy with it and i’m still not 100% happy with it but if i keep picking it over i’ll end up deleting the entire thing and rewriting it from scratch

but yeah i hope u guys like it & thanks again sooooo much for the love on this story <3 you guys rock.

word count: 2.6K

warnings: swearing, angst w/ a lil fluff again and bad editing lol

ALSO the first part in italics is a flashback to before Matt missed the appointment! 

Part 5

“You’ve gotta stop moping, man.” Noah said, bumping his shoulder against Matt’s during morning practice.

Matt knew he was moping but he couldn’t get you out of his head and it was driving him nuts. He was attracted to you the moment you met even though you hated him, but lately something was different. He wasn’t sure if it’s from seeing you carry his child but the past couple months, you were all he could think about.

And it drove him insane.

“I’m not.” He mumbled, attempting to deny his teammates statement. Noah didn’t buy it though, because he grinned.

“You, me, and drinks?” He pointed at Matt. “Tonight at 9. We’re getting you laid.”

Matt forced a smile and nodded, knowing that Noah wouldn’t leave him alone until he agreed.

“The ultrasound is in the morning though so I can’t stay out late.” Matt reminded him.

“We’ll have you back in time for the appointment.” Noah promised and Matt believed him which was why the hurt on your face the next morning broke him.

. . .

21 weeks

“Noah Hanifin is at your front door.” Becca says, looking through the peephole before turning to look at you. Piled under a mountain of blankets with tissues surrounding you and an empty tub of ice cream sitting on the coffee table, you‘re the perfect picture of a broken heart.

You have been dodging calls and texts from Matthew for the past two weeks but in the last couple days, he’s been radio silent and you’re not sure if it hurts more, or less.

“Tell Noah Hanifin to fuck off.” You mutter, trying to dig yourself deeper in the pile of blankets. You know why Noah is here and it pisses you off.

Becca opens the door a little and you can see Noah standing there, holding a bag and looking uncomfortable.

“Can I help you with something?” Becca asks shortly and Noah sighs.

“Good to see you too, Becs.”

Becca’s shoulders tighten and you know without seeing her face that she is glaring at him. “What do you want, Hanifin?”

He hands her the bag he was holding. “This is for Y/N. It’s from Matt. He says he’s sorry.” Then he looks at you. “He’s in bad shape.”

You know he’s in bad shape because even though you’re hurt and angry, you’ve been watching his games. He’s being careless, taking stupid penalties, picking fights more than normal and you know he hasn’t been getting much sleep because there are bags under his eyes.

So you don’t need Noah Fucking Hanifin to tell you that Matthew’s in bad shape.

“That’s not my problem.”

“Oh come on, Y/N.” Noah says a little too harshly for your liking. “He fucked up, he knows that. Cut him some slack, he’s twenty two and he’s about to be a fucking father. He’s scared!”

“And I’m about to be a mother!” You snap. “He doesn’t think I’m scared?”

Noah groans in frustration. “Look. It was my fault, okay? I talked Matt in to going out that night because I wanted him to stop moping over you.”

You try to ignore his comment about Matt moping over you but your voice is unsteady when you answer him.

“Matt is a big boy, Noah. He can make his own decisions and he made the wrong one.” You watch Noah’s face fall. “Stop trying to stick up for him.”

Noah shakes his head and sighs. “You should cut him some slack. It was my fault.”

You watch as he leaves without saying another word. When he’s gone and Becca shuts the door behind him, she turns to face you.

“He doesn’t deserve forgiveness just because Hanifin ‘talked’ him in to going out and getting drunk. He made that choice.”

You slowly nod, watching as she walks to your kitchen preparing to throw the bag Noah dropped off in the garbage. You’re not sure what prompts you to stop her but you call out before she throws it out.

“Wait.”

She looks at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“Let me see what he brought.”

You know she’s pissed, but she brings it over and hands it to you.

“I’m going to go get ready for bed, okay?” She says and you nod, watching as she walks down the hallway. When she’s out of sight, you peak in the bag.

The first thing you see is a chocolate bar. It’s your favourite, and you’re surprised he remembered. There’s some candy and a box of popcorn and your lips turn up in a tiny smile when you pull out a movie.

It’s What to Expect When You’re Expecting, the movie you were very against watching because of how unrealistic it would be compared to actual childbirth. There’s a little sticky note that says, you should watch this even though it’s totally not accurate.

Then, at the very bottom of the bag, there’s a bigger note and you want to ignore it like you’ve done with every text he’s sent you but you read it out of curiosity.

Y/N,

 I know that I can’t make up for missing the appointment and I know there’s nothing I can say to make it better so all I’m going to do is say sorry. I am so, so sorry and I know I keep saying that and they are only words but it’s all I can think of to say.

So I’m sorry and I hope that you can forgive me soon because I miss you and I want to be there for you without having to ask my mom for updates on how you are. Please call me, or even text me. I just want to know how you’re doing.

 Matt

 You’re sniffling by the time you’ve read the note but when you hear Becca approaching, you wipe away the tears and shove the paper back in the bag.

“What did he give you?” She questions, sitting on the couch next to you.

You don’t want to tell her about the note so you just shrug. “A movie.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah.” You lie. “Will you watch it with me?”

“Sure.” She says, taking the movie from you and putting it in to the DVD player before returning to the couch and curling up on the opposite side of the couch.

You try to focus on the movie but you can’t get Matt’s note and Noah’s words out of your head. You’re confused from what Noah said about Matthew ‘moping’ over you. The two of you were friends and you used that term loosely. If it wasn’t for the baby, you know you never wouldn’t have gotten so close to him. You never would have gotten to know the side of him that the rest of the world has never seen. You wouldn’t have learned how terrible he is at cooking but how gentle he can be.

But you also wouldn’t be in this situation right now. By yourself and pregnant with a broken heart.

So you’re not sure what hurts more. The thought of never having known him the way you do or having your heart broken.

. . .

22 weeks

Johnny: I’m really sorry to bother you but can you please come pick Matt up? He’s in bad shape and he won’t go home unless its to you.

It’s this text that has you standing outside a bar that Matt and the guys are. For Johnny to text you, you know that it must be bad and you’re proven right when the doors open and Noah and Johnny carry an extremely wasted Matthew Tkachuk out. You’re not sure he’s even awake until he lifts his head when Noah shakes him.

“Y/N’s here, bud.”

His eyes are closed but they open when he hears your name and his face lights up and he shrugs the boys off, stumbling towards you. He’s unsteady so you reach out to steady him, grateful when he doesn’t put much weight on you.

“You’re here.” He breathes and you nod slowly.

“And you’re drunk.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, I’m sober as a judge!”

You hear Noah chuckle but you don’t react to him, pulling Matt’s arm around your shoulder.

“C’mon. Lets go home.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Noah calls out and you’re still pissed at him so you don’t bother looking back.

“Yeah.”

You get Matt in your car without a problem and when you start the drive back to your apartment, you try to ignore how he’s staring at you but it feels like he’s burning holes in the side of your head.

“What?” You mutter eventually and you see him shrug out of the corner of your eye.

“’m surprised you came to pick me up. I know you hate me.” He mumbles and you sigh.

“I don’t hate you.” You tell him, “I was angry with you. And I had every right to be.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers quietly and when you glance at him, he’s no longer looking at you. He is staring at his hands and you notice the cuts from the fight he got in to at today’s game. It was a heavy loss and had a lot to do with how many penalties Matt took. They were dumb penalties, all of which he never would have taken if his head was in the game. You know it’s not entirely your fault but you still can’t help but feel a little guilty because you know he’s playing like this because you haven’t been talking to him.

“I know.” You say, pulling in to the parking lot of your apartment building. You could have very well dropped Matt off at his house but you know he’s too drunk and leaving him by himself could be dangerous.

He’s sobered up a little by the time you’re in your apartment. You make him drink a couple glasses of water before guiding him to your bathroom so he can brush his teeth with his toothbrush he keeps at your apartment and when you give him clothes that he keeps here too, you realize how much time he really spent here.

“I can sleep on the couch.” He says and everything in you is screaming to agree but he just looks so tired and you know he won’t get a wink of sleep on that couch so you shake your head.

“It’s fine.” you say, ignoring the small look of hope on his face, instead sending him out of the bathroom so you can get ready. You take your time, hoping that he will be asleep when you go to your bedroom but you find him laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t look at your face when you settle on the bed next to him but you do notice his eyes flicker to your stomach before you pull the blanket over you.

“It’s bigger.” He says.

“What?”

“Your stomach.” He clarifies. “It’s getting bigger.”

“Well that’s what happens when you’re growing a human being inside you.” You remind him and his lips turn up in a small smile.

“Y/N-” He starts to say but you cut him off.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

He looks disappointed but he’s still drunk enough that you’re not comfortable having the conversation the two of you need to have. There are things that need to be worked out and said and you don’t want him to only remember half of it.

So you watch him nod and drift off before letting yourself fall asleep.

. . .

You wake the next morning before Matt. He snoring quietly and his back is to you which makes getting out of bed easier. He’ll be hungover for sure, so you decide to make breakfast while you wait for him to wake up. You’re also trying to think of what exactly you’re going to say to him.

You don’t know if you have it in you to still be so angry at him. He messed up and it’s not something you’ll ever forget but Noah made a good point when he said that Matt is only 23. You’re both still so young and about to be parents and despite wanting him to be perfect and never mess up, you can’t expect him to be.

“Hey.”

You turn to see Matt walking in to the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Hey.” You reply, turning back to the stove. You can hear him sit down on a bar stool and he’s quiet for a moment before speaking up.

“Thank you.” He says softly and it surprises you because you were expecting him to say sorry again.

“You didn’t have to come pick me up last night but you did.”

You shrug, turning around to look at him. “I know you would’ve done the same.”

“I would.” He says. “And I know you’re tired of me saying it but I am really sorry I missed the appointment. I promised I would be there and I let you down.”

You nod, walking over and sitting next to him. “You did, but I’m starting to think that I was too hard on you. You made a mistake, we all do.”

“I swear I’ll never miss one again.” He promises.

“Good, because I’ll shun you if you do.” You chirp and he grins.

After breakfast, the two of you are watching hockey replays and Matt is quietly talking to the baby. You can’t hear exactly what he’s saying but suddenly he looks up and grins.

“Can we tell everyone now? I thought we could make up an Instagram post or something.”

“I may already have one prepared.” You admit sheepishly and his smile lights up the room.

[yeojaa]

IDK IF UR STILL TAKING REQUESTS🥺🥺🥺 sorry if IM botherinh😭😭 BUT MYBE A FINDERS KEEP HERS drabble where jk n oc get in to an argument after chap 3 n jk apologizes or something like that😭😭🥺😭🥺🥺

[ read part one / main story ]

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  this is soft angst. JK being his usual idiot self, reader being... well, sad, and yeah. just pain (but w a resolution. ish).  wc. 1.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif beta’d a bit of this but i wrote most of it after so any dumb mistakes are my fault and my fault alone. 🤡  author note.  this isn’t 100% what you requested but... the first part kind of is, and then this is the resolution (because people requested it). if you’d like another drabble, please feel free to request!

In true fashion, Jungkook tries to fix the problem in the only way he knows how:  with money.

He puts the two of you up at the Four Seasons for the entire week, orders room service at all hours of the day and has treats from all of your favourite spots in the city delivered.  (Macarons, candied nuts, that one bakery that does those salted honey pies you inhale like a wild animal.)  He runs baths for you, fills the tub with your favourite scents (always Diptyque) and massages his tattooed hands all over your scalp.  He makes sure you wake up to the smell of French toast and fall asleep on a bed of roses, curled up in his arms and little else.  

He spoils you until you can hardly see the floor, designer shopping bags strewn throughout the suite.  (His sisters help him decide what to buy, mouths sealed shut otherwise.  They know better than to get too involved in his relationship with you.)  Dinner is somewhere new every night but always at a Michelin-starred restaurant, space booked out to the extent it’s just the two of you and a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

Of course, he thinks things are better.  Assumes they must be, because there’s never been a time where money hasn’t solved his problems.  No matter how much, throw enough of it at something and the problem will go away.

But you don’t go away.  Neither does your sadness.

“Baby.”  It’s your last night together before you’re back to some semblance of normalcy (not that Jungkook’s life was very normal to begin with).  He thinks he’ll miss it more than you will, if your lacklustre reactions have been any indication.

You’re fresh out of the shower - you’d turned down his offer of a bath, locked the door on your way into the washroom - and wrapped in a fuzzy white robe.  “What?”  You’re focused on running a comb through your hair, unbothered by your boyfriend who sits at the edge of the bed, legs wide and hands extended toward you.

It bothers him a bit (read: a lot).  You’re better than you were, offering tiny smiles when he begs for them, accepting his kisses without complaint. It isn’t you though.  Not the snark and the sass and the decades of friendship that normally thread your relationship.  A book with its spine about to snap, held together by cobweb.

Despite the time you’ve spent together the last few days - almost every hour, sans when you were at work - you’ve been distant still.  Not mean, of course (no, never mean, because you’ve always been soft on him) but different.  Softer and harder all at once.

“Come here,”  he coaxes, fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you between his knees effortlessly.

Normally, you’d curl around his shoulders, rake your nails through his hair.  This time, you only allow yourself to be with him, palms flat upon the ridges of muscle plating his back.  You don’t pass affection into his hair, don’t form a cradle for him to rest his head.  (It doesn’t feel like home - not like it should.)

Jungkook hates it.  Absolutely fucking abhors it.  He wants his girlfriend - his best friend, his love - back.  Not this spectre that’s taken up your space. 

(He almost forgets that he’s the reason you’re the way you are.)

“What’s wrong?”  The shape of his mouth curls, bottom lip pouting into that trademark expression that usually has you relenting, melting into a puddle of goo in his arms. 

This time, you shrug, movement dislodging the soft soft terry cloth from your shoulders.  “Nothing.”  Dumb as he might be - oblivious in the way only someone like he can be - he can tell you’re lying.  Offering the untruth right between your teeth, expecting him to accept it.

That bothers him even more.  It’s one thing to put up an act, entertain him as if you were a court jester.  It’s entirely another to treat him as if he’s a child, feeding him lies without a care.

(Notwithstanding the fact that Jeon Jungkook is, for all intents and purposes, a manchild.)

“You’re a shit liar,”  he retorts, grumpy, coloured green and blue until his insides feel like mud.  It’s strange, the discomfort that sinks beneath his skin and sticks his bones together.  Like wading through quicksand or a bog, stuck to a place he doesn’t want to be.  “Talk to me.”

“About what?”  You’re deflecting, refusing to meet his stare, holding yourself within the confines of your robe as if you can’t bear to open up to him.

That hurts more than he expects.  Slips sadness in alongside the frustration.

“About what’s bothering you.”  The fact he has to do this is driving him mad.  It’s akin to pulling teeth and he hates the dentist.

You scoff then - which he doesn’t expect.  The sound kicks him right in the stomach, a sucker punch he doesn’t see coming.  “You want me to talk about you?”  It’s an uncharacteristically mean answer, brought on by whatever’s been bothering you, turning blood to battery acid.

“Excuse me?”  

“You heard me.”  

For the briefest moment, he considers lashing out in response - giving back exactly what he’s getting.  But then he spies it, just there, past the usual warmth of your stare.  It’s hiding behind crystallised amber, peeking past the edges.  So much sadness it steals his breath right from his lungs, stripping him bare of red hot fury and leaving him lily white and lovesick.   

When Jungkook speaks again, it’s feather soft, terribly light, begging and pleading in a single utterance.  “Please.”

There’s silence for a beat, then another.  It stings for each second it continues, treading misery all over the thing that beats in his chest.  He’s not used to this.  (You’re his first and only love.  A part of him is grateful for that;  another hates even this.)

He almost asks again - readies it on the tip of his tongue.

Then you’re unloading, giving him everything he’d asked for and more.   

“I love you,”  you tell him in a reedy voice, uneven like the foundation you’ve built together.  Haphazardly thrown into place and hoped for the best on.  “But you’re an idiot.”   

(He deserves that, he supposes.)

Your voice is static, stretched thin and gossamer thin.  Cheek pressed to his curls, you find comfort in your hiding place, as if shielded by the dark.  “I’ve loved you for years and that’ll never stop.  But when you do stupid shit, it’s so hard.”  Your words are honeyed, thick and heavy as they lay into each strand, seep quietly into his ears.  Where they’d normally fill him with ecstasy, delight, send him on a sugar high - these ache, sink right to the pit of his stomach.  “I would give you anything.  Anything.”

“I know.”  Really, he does.  He’s known that since you were kids.  It’s why he’d fallen in love with you, even before he’d realised he had.

“Then why do you test me?”  

It’s not rhetorical.  You want an answer - something real you can hold between your hands.  Something to act as the salve for all the hurt, to bandage the wounds left behind by your uncertainty.  (He’s the same as you - needs to know he means as much to you as you do him.  But you show it in different ways and that’s what’s brought the two of you to this point.)

“I’m sorry,”  he answers, sliding his arms more securely around your waist, face buried into the soft fabric of the robe, into the warmth that lies beneath, into the heart that beats a rhythm identical to his.

“I don’t want sorry.”  After all, you’d already gotten one.  Weeks ago, when he’d pulled the stupid sophomoric stunt, he’d apologised.  Had been apologising every day since then, but in all the wrong ways.  “I want better.” 

It’s as if all of his bones have been cracked open, the weight of your words settling like sand, discomfort and grit snapping his head to attention.  “You want better?”  There’s nothing but alarm in Jungkook’s expression, eyes wide, throat knotted in worry.  “I—”

As always, you read him like an open book.  Hands smooth down the sides of his cheeks, palms searing over his reddened cheeks.  “Not like that.”  You’re reassuring him even as it should be the other way around.  (How ironic.)

He exhales a deep breath.  Doesn’t tear his stare from yours.  

“I just need you to be better.”  You’d never ask this of him if it weren’t important, if you didn’t feel his ignorance and immaturity splintering your insides into glass shards.  You’ve always accepted him exactly as he was, all the good and bad and ridiculous.  

This is different though.  You love him.  You’re taking a chance with him just as he is with you.  Laying your heart in his hands and trusting him to keep it safe, handing out the key in the hopes of building a home.  

So you ask - for both your sakes. 

He promises he will be and you believe him.  Have to.

For both of your sakes.

[babyybitchhhwrites]

Aizawa x Reader 18+

Title: Easy Come

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 4914 

Warnings: established relationship, 69 position, oral sex, cunnilingus, anal fingering, competitive sex 

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26674393

♥♥♥♥

Peaceful evenings at home with Shouta were the best. It was easily the highlight of your week and had been for the last year since you’d started dating. He was such a busy man that just finding the time to be together was often difficult but, somehow or another, the both of you made it work. There wasn’t a single thing in the world you’d trade this time for and you suspected he was in full agreement with that sentiment. He hadn’t come right out and said as much but he may as well have.

The tranquility in his demeanor when it was just you two was impossible to miss and such a stark difference from how he was in public that you couldn’t help wondering how many other people knew this side of him. You had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t many. Although a good man through and through, Shouta didn’t exactly have a reputation for being easy to get on friendly terms with. A tough nut to crack would likely be a good metaphor but you cherished that part of him more than you could put into words. It just made the soft spoken endearments and late night cuddles all the more meaningful. Of all the potential partners he could have chosen, he’d picked you and that had to count for something.

“What are you in the mood for tonight?” 

You thought about that for a moment. “Surprise me.”

Issuing a good natured scoff, Shouta picks up the remote from the nightstand and turns on the TV. 

You could hear him clicking through multiple screens to pull up an almost endless list of movies that were available at just the touch of a finger while you finished getting ready for bed in the attached bathroom. His apartment was starting to feel more like home than yours did and a smile touches your face when you looked down at where your toothbrushes were nestled together in the same holder. That something so small and insignificant could hold so much weight still took you by surprise even now but you were slowly getting used to it. He’d been very open about wanting you to make a space for yourself once the relationship reached the point of being serious whereas you’d had plenty of lingering reservations. Past hangups and all that.

But you were both slowly moving forward together as a couple and you felt good about the future. Everything seemed to be falling into place one piece at a time, against all odds and, perhaps, your better judgement. Only time would truly tell if what you had was meant to last though and you were determined to enjoy every possible moment with him that you could.

Finishing up at the sink, you pull a fluffy headband over your forehead to keep the hair off your face before switching off the light. Shouta glances up from the TV when you step into the bedroom. You catch the corner of his mouth hitching with what could only be amusement and it lights a mischievous spark in your chest as you cross over to climb up on the bed. 

“What’s that look for?” You tease, scooting close to give him a peck on his stubbly cheek. 

“Don’t make me say it. You know what that headband does to me.” 

“Maybe that was my intention.” 

A snort of mirth rumbles out of him as he reaches over to first tweak one of the plush cat ears sticking up off the top of your head and then further back so he can pinch at a loose strand of hair. Absently curling it around his finger, Shouta turns his attention back to the glowing screen against the wall. You sigh in contentment and lean into the firm weight of his body, listening to the click-click-click coming from the TV as he scrolls through the list. You’re positive that this has to be pretty close to what heaven feels like. 

“Are you sure you don’t have any preference?” He asks at length. “Action, horror, romcom. Anything stand out?” 

Thoughtfully humming, you regard the screen in quiet contemplation for a moment. “Maybe something light?” 

“Romcom it is then.”

Your lips curl at the put upon tone in his voice, knowing full well he enjoys those kinds of movies more than he’d ever admit. He’d taken you to the theater on one of your first dates and you’d been surprised at his choice of film, initially writing it off as one made in deference to what you liked rather than what he liked. But then it kept happening, over and over again. You’d seen every romantic comedy blockbuster in the last year and then some, his inclination for that particular genre delighting you to no end. It was such an unexpected surprise but one that made perfect sense in retrospect. Shouta was a true romantic at heart even if he didn’t outwardly look it, after all. 

“How about this one?” He says, nudging his shoulder to get your attention.

“Oooh, a classic. Good choice.” You sit up and wiggle over to your pillow as he selects the title and starts it up. 

Setting aside the remote, Shouta reaches over onto the nightstand to turn off the light. The both of you settle in and get comfortable, snuggling close to each other with his arm curled over your shoulders and your cheek resting on his chest. It’s the perfect way to spend a Friday night with the promise of the weekend looming just on the horizon and, try as you might, you can’t shake the feeling of being genuinely happy. It was hard sometimes but so, so worth it at the end of the day.

You don’t make it very far into the movie before the close proximity with him overrides your wish to simply relax though. It’s near impossible to keep your mind out of the gutter when the clean, soapy smell of him is surrounding you like this, invading your nostrils and leaving a vaguely reminiscent taste of him on your tongue. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breast just under your cheek serves as a silent reminder of the densely packed muscle his lithe frame carries. With it comes the memory of how it feels to have those same muscles heaving against you, driving into your body and working you over right to the breaking point. 

The desire you harbor for Shouta had not waned at all in the last year. If anything it had only gotten stronger. Just lying next to him in bed was enough to make you want him and you squirm, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to stave off the growing heat there. But it’s no use. Your urges are simply too strong where he’s concerned and you can feel yourself starting to get wet, particularly when the steamy sex scene with the leading actress’s soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend starts up on screen. Shouta had taken you in similar fashion down in the apartment complex's laundry room late one night when you’d first started staying over for extended periods at a time and the thought alone is enough to make you ache. 

He shifts beside you the third time you start to squirm, a wave of pleasant tingles erupting across your skin when he tightens his hold around your shoulders and pins you against his side. He’s strong enough to crush you in his arms if he felt so inclined and it makes your breath come a little faster. A little harder. The notion of letting this scratch go unitched doesn’t even cross your mind as you grasp at the plain black t-shirt he’d put on for bed, tilting your pelvis forward to discreetly grind into his thigh. You had to have him.

“Don’t tell me this is getting you riled up, kitten.” Shouta murmurs, the reverberation from his deep voice making your head feel like it’s vibrating. “If you’d wanted something a bit more explicit, all you had to do was say so.”

“No … this is fine.” You quietly assure him. The somewhat breathless quality of your words makes a shudder race up your spine and you arch, stretching your legs out to wind them around his. If you could get any closer you’d be on top of him by now and you can’t quite convince yourself that it would be such a bad thing. 

Noising a muted sound of agreement, Shouta obligingly angles his body away from the TV and towards you. The rough pads of his calloused fingers give you a brief squeeze before tracing lazy circles into the meat of your upper arm. You tilt your head back to peer into his face, a mere hair's breadth from yours, and for a small eternity it's as if you’re simply passing the same oxygen back and forth. Every exhale feeds into the next inhale, his breath mingling with yours until you can’t be sure who's is whose anymore. Then, finally, he closes the distance. 

His lips are slightly dry against yours, they always are, but it’s nothing a quick swipe of his tongue won’t fix. The second kiss is more demanding than the last and you all but melt against him, opening your mouth to grant him the access he seeks. A needy moan tries to claw its way up your throat when he slips into the hot, wet cavern of your mouth for a taste only to pull out a regretfully short moment later. You try to follow him, eager to give yourself over, but Shouta’s attention drops to the spot between you two instead.

“What’s got you so worked up tonight?” He brings the arm that’s not wrapped around you forward, giving your breast an idle squeeze through the thin cotton of your shirt, and you keen.

“You. It’s always you.”

“Is that so?” He says with a mirthful snort. Adjusting his hand, Shouta brushes his thumb over the pebbling peak of your nipple in taunting slow motion until you whine. “Am I really that good or am I just lucky? What do you think, kitten?”

“Both.” You croak, jutting your chest towards him for better access. “I love what you do to me and that makes you lucky.” 

“Can’t argue that.”

A genuine smile graces his face, highlighted by the glow from the TV. You’ve completely forgotten about the movie by now, its low chatter mere background noise as you focus in on Shouta and how he makes you feel. His hooded gaze is still locked on your chest and you watch with bated breath when he delicately takes your nipple between his fingers, rolling the bud to stiff attention. The resulting friction makes your pussy clench and tingling warmth spreads throughout your body to set every nerve ending on fire. You draw a slow breath to try and ground yourself. It doesn’t work but, to be fair, you hadn’t really expected it to. 

Shouta looks up at the sound though and you exchange a long look with one another. Keeping his eyes on your face, he pulls at your top until it's bunched under your chin and your nipples immediately start to pucker in the open air. Moaning softly, you watch as he dips his head to catch one of the meaty nubs in his mouth and suckle. He starts off slow and gentle but gradually increases the suction he’s applying until you finally gasp and writhe against him. 

He comes up off your tit with a dull pop. The quiet breath he lets out fans across spit lathered skin, making your nipple pucker all over again and even stiffer than before. You seeth and blindly reach behind him to worm your hand into his dark plaid boxers. Pausing long enough to give his ass an encouraging squeeze, digging your nails in for good measure, you work your way towards the front of his body so you can grasp the half hard length between his legs. Wiry pubic hair tickles your knuckles as you subduedly pump at him, teasing him to full arousal while he idly flicks at your nipple with his index finger. Despite the thrumming arousal pumping through your system, it seems neither of you is in a hurry to rush this and you can’t say you have any complaints about that.

“Was it the sex scene in the laundry room?” He husks after a long moment. 

“It certainly didn’t help.”

“Hmm. Maybe we should revisit that later. You might have an unrealized kink for having your pussy ate on top of a washing machine, sweetheart.” 

You outright laugh at that. “ I think I just like having you go down on me period. The setting doesn’t really matter.”

Issuing a low, rumbling growl, Shouta drops his arm to worm his fingers between your pliant thighs and possessively cup your pussy in his hand. “Is that what you want? Want me to eat you out until you’re screaming and begging me to stop?” 

Your breath hitches with a little gasp. “God, yes …”

He takes a moment to grind the heel of his palm into the apex of your slit, applying just the right amount of pressure to leave you desperate for more. Then, too quick for you to react, he rolls over onto his back and drags you on top of him so that you’re half sprawled out across his chest. Your pulse jumps at suddenly finding yourself nose to nose and you brace your palms on his firm pecs, intending to give him some breathing room. Shouta is fast though, much faster than you, and he brings his hands up to catch your cheeks before you can retreat. He pulls you into another deep kiss, the stubble on his chin abrasively scratching your skin in the process. You shudder at the dominant gesture, feeling your cunt gush more sticky slick to coat your labia as you moan wantonly into his mouth. His ability to drive you wild was as profound as it was unfair. You’d have to make sure to pay him back for this later.

“Turn around.” He grunts upon pulling back just enough to speak. “And pants off.” 

A sharp swat to your ass has you practically vibrating with eager excitement as you carefully stand up on the bed and start shimmying your sleep shorts down your hips. Shouta watches you with nothing short of barefaced interest, his hands coming up to caress the soft skin of your legs where they’re bracketing his ribs. One foot at a time, you cautiously step out of your bottoms and toss them over the edge of the bed before turning to face the TV. You glance back over your shoulder with a sly grin, giving your behind a taunting little shake. 

“Like this?”

He snorts. “Come here before I decide to punish you, kitten. You already know exactly how unpleasant I can make this for you.” 

Your pussy tightens at the playful threat which ultimately only succeeds in exciting you all the more. You’d rather not endure another one of Shouta’s infamous edging sessions though and you lower yourself down onto your knees, fighting back the anxious flutter in the pit of your gut that always accompanies this particular position. No matter how many times you do it, shoving your ass in your boyfriend's face will probably never not be an awkward experience. 

It’s clear as day that Shouta doesn’t mind it one bit though and he loops his arms under your thighs so he can take your waist in hand and guide you into place. The fact he actually pulls you closer doesn’t come as a surprise and you wait with bated breath for him to deem your positioning satisfactory. You start slightly just a moment later at the tickle of his coarse hair on your inner thigh, unable to shake the feeling that he’s nose deep in your pussy like this. It’s a bit embarrassing but somehow thrilling at the same time. A real conundrum.

“There.” He says at last, stilling behind you, and you shudder at the sensation of his breath on your skin. “Remember what you asked for, kitten. I won’t stop until you’re screaming.”

“You would’ve done that anyway, whether I’d asked for it or not …”

He chuckles faintly in response. “That’s true.” 

You start to smile, that undeniable spark of genuine happiness making itself known again. But then you feel him lean close and your mouth warbles, dropping open with a silent groan instead as you brace for the first expert stroke of Shouta’s tongue. It doesn’t come right away though and he takes his time merely nuzzling into you, placing wayward kisses along your puffy slit and taking deep breaths of your scent. A slow moving tremor works its way up your spine, causing you to shake and clench your pussy in anticipation. The suspense alone was enough to make you start begging.

But Shouta knows exactly how to tease you to vibrating fever pitch and giving him any more ammunition to work with would just be inviting one of his drawn out games so you stay silent, biting down on your lip when you can feel the word ‘please’ bubbling to life inside your throat. He’s as aware of the underlying tension as you are and he grunts against your cunt. Dragging his palms up the backs of your thighs, he reaches up to squeeze the doughy soft flesh of your ass and spread your cheeks apart, baring you fully to the room. You whimper, unable to hold back such an instinctive sound when you’re totally exposed like this, and Shouta’s lips curl against your labia. 

Apparently pleased with that, he presses his lips to the center of your slit and kisses you. The ministrations of his mouth are hungry and demanding, the friction of his facial hair against your petal soft folds leaving a burning trail in its wake while he works you open. You sway slightly on your knees, eyes slipping shut as you bask the sensation. 

His tongue emerges a brief moment later and you give your hips an encouraging wiggle when it slips and slides through your wet cunt lips in search of your entrance. He takes his time just circling the rim, lapping up the accumulated slick and swallowing the taste of you before delving in deeper. Your muscles contract at the slimy intrusion, fluttering in delight, and you teeter forward to brace your hands on his sharp hip bones so that you can better present yourself to him. A rumbling groan rises up behind you, the vibrations traveling through your pussy, and you twitch in pleasure. 

“Mmm … that feels good, Shouta. Do you like how I taste that much?” 

You receive an incoherent grumble in response and it makes you smile. 

Cracking your eyes open, you glance down at the straining tent in his boxers. Knowing you could never leave him hanging like that, you lift your hand to tug at the cotton. Inch by excruciating inch, you push it lower until his hard cock pops up into the air with an enthusiastic bounce. He tenses underneath you, just enough for you to notice, and you tuck the elastic waistband under his balls before taking him in hand. A slow pump is all you reward him with at first but then, as if sensing your intentions, he withdraws his tongue from your body in favor of licking his way down to your clit. Your grip on him eagerly tightens and you rear back, grinding your pussy on his face. 

The resulting grunt of pleasure goes straight to your head and you do it again. Dragging your cunt across his mouth and no doubt smearing your arousal on his skin, you give Shouta’s cock another tug that makes the foreskin bunch at the tip. He issues a rumbled warning and pulls back just enough to speak.

“Watch yourself, kitten. We can still do this the hard way.”

With that ominous reminder, he dives back in. Shoving his face so deep into your cunt that it's a wonder he doesn’t suffocate, Shouta works the meat of your labia open again and his tongue darts out to lash at your clit. You go ramrod stiff on top of him, twitching and shaking like a leaf at the sharp starbursts of pleasure that shoot through your nerves. It’s enough to make you freeze up, so overwhelmed by the sensation that you almost overlook the very obvious challenge he’s presented you with. 

You’ve played this particular game with him more times than you could count though and, through sheer force of will alone, you start to pump him in earnest now. It takes a staggering amount of concerted effort to do it but if it's another round of who-can-successfully-distract-who he was looking for then that’s what he’d get. 

Lowering yourself so that you can lie down on top of him, you angle Shouta’s cock towards your mouth and seal your lips around the head. Your free hand travels further south, curling around and cupping his balls so that you can massage them. He was particularly sensitive in this area and, just as expected, the muscles in his legs jump at the first gentle squeeze. You feel real proud of yourself for all of five seconds before he retaliates by closing his mouth on your clit and sucking. Hard.

You come up off his dick with a half strangled squeal, futilely trying to squeeze your thighs together and shut him out. It’s a losing battle though and Shouta merely tightens his elbows around your hips so that he can hold you in place no matter how much you squirm. A shock of static electricity zaps up your spine and you arch so hard that something in your lower back pops. The damp presence of reflexive tears wetting your lash line manages to ground you somewhat and, with a haggard gulp of air, you take his stiff cock into your mouth again. 

Swallowing him as far as you can in this position, you start bobbing your head and laving the underside of him with your tongue while your hand pumps at the base where you can’t quite reach. He lets up on your clit long enough to groan appreciatively and flex his hips off the bed to meet you halfway. Bending his knobby knees towards the ceiling to accommodate the awkward angle, Shouta begins thrusting into your mouth enthusiastically enough to make his balls bounce and a tinge of victory lights up inside your chest.  

It’s regretfully short lived though and you stiffen when his fingers abruptly find your slit. He wastes no time pushing one inside, giving the searching digit a taunting wiggle for good measure, and you moan around his cock. The sudden pressure on your upper wall has you clenching around him as the tension in your gut doubles and then triples. You know it's only a matter of moments until you reach the breaking point if he keeps that up but, much to your surprise, he pulls out after a prolonged beat. 

Confusion curls at the back of your mind but he’s still fucking your mouth and you can’t think straight. The drool spilling out around his cock and running down your chin is particularly distracting. All you can seem to do is wordlessly noise your bewilderment and dig your nails into his flexing hip, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say.

You get your answer soon enough in the form of that same finger, sticky with arousal, finding the pucker of your asshole. Squawking wetly in surprise, you jerk against him but Shouta hold’s fast. With one hand pulling your cheek to the side, the other applies just the right amount of pressure at the center of your entrance to sink inside your body. You freeze, feeling the muscles clench and flutter around the intrusion, but this is not the first time you’ve had your ass penetrated and it offers only a cursory amount of resistance. Your eyes start to water again, rolling towards the back of your head, and Shouta stills underneath you with his dick rammed as deep into your mouth as he can reach. 

A small eternity seems to pass and then you feel the ring of muscle give way. Once the first joint makes it through, the rest follow suit easily enough and Shouta wiggles his finger into you straight down to the knuckle. You groan in perverse pleasure, rocking forward on your knees, but the only place you can go is further down on his cock. You’re thoroughly trapped between two equally unrelenting forces like this and you can’t quite shake the impression of being a spit roasted pig. Damn him. What a devious bastard.

“That seems to have gotten your attention.” He groans, very softly, and the sensation of his lips brushing against your cunt makes you jolt. Allowing himself a strained chuckle at your expense, Shouta nuzzles into you again and your body responds with a warning tremor that he doesn’t miss. “Maybe I should start using your ass more often. You seem to like it.”

You gurgle noisily in response, struggling to swallow around the girth shoved in your mouth. 

He seems to take that as an agreement and tilts his head, slowly dragging the flat of his tongue across your throbbing clit. You shake so hard that your eyes rattle about inside their sockets but there’s nothing you can do to turn the tables now. He’s got you completely at his mercy and he was just as aware of that as you were. 

With his finger plugging your ass, Shouta takes a leisurely pace to eating you out and it very nearly drives you insane. It quickly becomes apparent that he intends to drag this out for as long as possible, which he was adept at even under the best of circumstances but it was particularly torturous in this case. Your clenching muscles gave you away and any time he felt you starting to tighten around him, he’d merely shift his attention to kissing the outer portion of your pussy until the tension began to fade. You were toeing the line of release for such an extended period of time that it actually started to hurt and you whine around him, trying to pull yourself up off his cock. He wouldn’t permit that either though and merely tightened his arms around you or jutted his pelvis up higher as needed. It was maddening in the best possible way. 

It seemed as if hours had gone by in this fashion before he finally spoke up again. “Are you ready to cum, kitten?” 

“Rrmmhrm.” 

“Are you going to scream for me?” 

“Rrmh!” You jerkily nod your head, fingers fisting in the sheets. 

“You’ll have to try hard if you want me to hear it while you have my cock in your mouth.” 

Groaning, you weakly jut your pelvis back against his face, urging him to finish you already. Shouta quietly chuckles, sounding more like a moan than a genuine laugh. 

He tilts his head then, slotting his mouth over your clit, and you let out a muffled wail when his tongue drags across the swollen nub with real intent this time. Every inch of your body shakes in rapidly mounting tension, the sheer force of it almost too much to bear. He holds you tight as you quake on top of him though, your chest heaving frantically against his stomach, but he won’t let up this time. Now he wants you to cum and you’re entirely helpless to stop it even if you’d wanted to. It takes everything you have to keep breathing through your nose as starbursts erupt across your vision and, before you even realize it’s happening, you tip over the edge. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you wail around his cock. A fresh wave of drool dribbles out of your mouth as you struggle to keep your jaw open while you ride out the cresting waves of ecstasy, realizing in some far off, dreamy way that the ball gag training was really paying off now. It’s a hysterical thought to have when your mind and body were being overwhelmed with a flood of dopamine but you don’t even have the wherewithal to find it funny. You were soaring on cloud nine, somewhere far above the physical constraints of your body, and you’re only vaguely aware of your asshole sporadically squeezing his finger when you start to come back some moments later. It was the sort of transcendental orgasm you’d only ever experienced with Shouta. 

You were positive that no one else could ever hope to take you to such dizzying heights as this and you go limp on top of him with a frazzled sigh.

After a long beat, when he’s sure you’ve milked your release for all its worth, he slowly eases his hips back down to the bed. You gratefully spit his cock out, watching it bob and glisten wetly in the dim light from the TV while you try to steady your breathing. He gives you another moment or two before idly tapping his fingers against the meat of your ass. 

“That didn’t exactly sound like screaming to me, kitten.” He says quietly, the sly note in his voice not escaping your notice. “I think we might have to give that another go.”

[bacchicly]

Can I just say as I lay in my husband's arms last night - just held - a husband who has been having some really hard times with his health for the last handful of years - I knew love and safety?

We fight sometimes - fiercely - drive each other completely nuts - don't always agree on parenting - work hard to make it work - have been trying to understand how to fight less and better - with a variety of success.

He's different than me - a very very very intelligent and educated man - older - sporty and tenacious in opposite ways from me.

I'm more sensual and in touch with my body and sexuality. I am very very attracted to my husband and for him that has been a mixed blessing - since sexy stuff has never been a priority for him - whereas for me it is so tied to my daily raison d'être... Oh he is very attracted to me - for which I thank the stars - but it is not something that drives him the way it does me.

Anyways - he knows and is supportive of this crazy little project and I think he even sort of understands. Which has been liberating.

Its odd to be writing about a made up couple - who have been portrayed by real performers - and unlike theatrical characters - unlikely to be played by someone else.

It is odd to be writing about a man who is portrayed by a man who so many clearly find outrageously attractive - who has been in a movie (I haven't seen in full) which was about overt sexuality - that I am personally not particularly attracted to. Which puzzles me. Honnestly? The physical male body I am personally probably most attracted to on CM is Kate's husband.

I am honnestly and unashamedly personally attracted more to the woman I am writing about than the man.

But more than anything, I am more attracted to how these two characters - these two intelligent sensitive valiant brave honorable scarred characters - have the potential to interact. I love this idea of agency. Of choice. Of emotion being compelling and worthy of consideration - just as valid as thought and logic - but also not a force that demands that we abandon choice.

For me it is a feminist point. Women are so often discounted because we are taught to value and respect emotion. Men are taught to suppress it and when they aren't successful are often seen as less than. But the truth is all of us must figure out how we balance emotions and thought and logic and choice. That - that is sexy and invigorating and empowering.

Ok I have no idea what I am trying to say - but I have been musing about these ideas for weeks.

I struggle so much with how to write these stories without objectifying the man or the woman - at least not in a harmful way. Without fetishizing her weight or his race or his fitness or her clear neuro divergence.

I guess what I am trying to express is that sexuality is ok. Not being sexual is ok. Bodies are bodies.

Maybe I am just trying to convince myself.

The work done by the writers who came before me is inspiring and so important. I thank them. I know I am a bit of a strange fish in this pool... Imposing myself perhaps with too much thought - too much hyperfocus - too much intensity....

Not engaging in the ways I have seen codified across this site ...but not because I don't respect and understand or because condemn how others engage...but just because that is not me.

In fact part of me is jealous and wish I could be more fun ...more relaxed... But I am not. And since this is a damn hobby that is getting me through one of the hardest times of my life... I think I need to make up my own rules as I go along.

In real life, I spend a lot of my time modifying my intensity so that I do not overwhelm a space, a conversation, a relationship. Here I won't. I may never post anything that gets more than 20 notes and that is ok. This is for me and the few who find bits and pieces of my offerings interesting or diverting or useful or comforting.

Hope you are well and thank you for reading this weirdo ramble.

I apparently had to vent.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IV (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part III Here

A/N: Happy Early Valentine’s Day, Y’all! I wrote a lot for the next part of this series, so I decided to split them up in two chapters. I’m posting this one tonight, and the other will be up at some point tomorrow afternoon.

This chapter is in 3rd Person Omniscient for Rogie like the previous one, and the reader will not be in this chapter but the next one, so I apologize if it’s not that good.

Don’t forget to show your support and enjoyment for the fic by leaving likes, comments, and reblogging!

Summary: Roger has a chat with the band, and does some more thinking.

(Roger can be Ben Hardy!Rog or Real!Rog. Whatever stirs your soup.)

WARNINGS: Swearing, s l o w  b u r n, Mentions of sex (BuT nO sMuT [yet(?)]), no revision and editing bc I’m lazy, I think that’s it.

This one is leaning more towards an M rating than a T, so read at your own risk.

“Eh… no no no. Take it from the top. Roger?”

 The blond looked through the window to Freddie, who just made it to the practice. 

 He was wearing some ridiculous flashy outfit as usual, a pair of massive white sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose while an equally distracting burgundy coat made its presence known on the singer’s shoulders. Whether he wore a shirt underneath is still a mystery.

 In his right hand, Freddie held a steaming hot cup of tea, gripped tight by his long fingers, each nail painted black. From the waist down, although he couldn’t see, Roger wouldn’t be surprised if Freddie was wearing booty shorts.

 "You okay, Love?“ 

 He only responded with a simple thumbs up, and an unenthusiastic look on his face; and although Fred didn’t seem too convinced, the music started playing, and Roger tried his part again.

 "Been out of the flow all morning,” Brian informed the frontman, biting his thumbnail and crossing his legs from the wall he leaned against. “He got here, and didn’t count us in the first few times we played. Figured he needed some time to play for himself.”

 "Hm,“ Freddie acknowledged, taking a peek at some loose papers scattered around the control desk and taking a sip of his tea.

 "And how long ago did you two decide this?“ 

 "Forty five minutes ago,” John grumbled at his spot at the control desk, legs crossed, and head propped up with his hand in bore. 

 "We tried confronting him and he’s not speaking,“ Brian explained. “Gave you a call and no one answered the phone. We assumed you were on your way.”

 Freddie looked around the room, and he pointed at the second, empty seat at the control desk. “Where’s–”

 After another timing mistake, Roger flung his drumstick towards the window, shouting profanities when the stick just riccoched and hit him right back, and startling the other three men in the process. 

 "… Y/n,“ Freddie finished carefully, eyes wide and focused on Roger’s movements. 

 "We both assume she’s got somethin’ to do with it. He won’t say anything.” John mumbled with a shrug. 

 Freddie pursed his lips, and sighed, scanning the control desk for the PA system’s button. 

 "Rog, my Love. Just… put the drumsticks down.“

 Roger, who was about to send his second drumstick against the wall to meet the fate his first one did, lowered his arm slowly to his side, eyeing his band’s frontman in the window, who was twiddling his fingers at him. 

 "Good. Now, come on in here. We’re all gonna sit down. Have a chat.“ 

 Roger’s shoulders slumped, and he left the recording room so he could regroup with his three other bandmates. Roger just frowned. Just as he suspected, Freddie was sporting a pair of body shorts. 

 Freddie moved his eyes from Roger to the empty seat next to John. 

 The drummer dropped into the chair, letting it roll him a little bit away from the staring eyes of the others. 

 "The others here tell me you’ve been a little… upset, since you’ve been here this morning." 

 Roger scoffed, and tried to stand from his chair, but Freddie dropped a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

 "I know there’s something wrong,” Freddie quietly mumbled. “We just wanna help you. Tell us what’s wrong, and you’re helping us, too.”

 Roger chewed the inside of his cheek, looking guiltily towards John and Brian. “… Hope you know I didn’t mean to shout earlier, yeah?" 

 "Kind of assumed so, yeah,” John offered a kind smile, to which Roger tried to return, but he just looked uncomfortable. 

 "It’s uh… it’s just, um…“

 "Is… y'know… is y/n okay?”

 Roger’s smile fell. “Wait, why? Why would she not be okay? Did you get a phone call from her?!” Roger stood up, “oh my God, is she okay?!”

 "Hey, hey, hey, calm down, calm down!“ Brian intervened, hands up. "She’s fine. We’ve heard nothing from her. We were just asking you.”

 Roger sat back down, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and sighing deeply. “Look, I’m sorry. Yes. Yeah, it is her. She’s… Driving me nuts right now.”

 "Why now? You two were perfectly fine last week.“

 "It’s been the interactions with the neighbours,” Roger complained. “do you know how hard it is not to start sweating every time we hold hands in public now?”

 John frowned. “But… You hold other girls’ hands all the time. Why would y/n be different?”

 "I don’t know! I don’t know and that’s why I’m like this!“

 Freddie smirked, and Roger could sense the glint in his eyes despite them still being covered by his sunglasses.

 "Seems to me,” Freddie popped his lips. “Roger’s in love with y/n.”

 John smirked at the thought, and Brian had this wide grin on his face Roger really wanted to slap off.

 "Fred, I really don’t think that’s the problem here–“ 

 ”‘Ts weird. I’ve always had a thing for y/n, maybe I’m in love with her.“ 

 "Seeing a girl naked by accident doesn’t mean you’re in love with her, John.” Roger snapped back nearly immediately, to which Brian chimed in: 

 "Funny how you’re the one telling John that when I had to say the same thing to you in high school.“

 Roger was mad, but he was even more embarrassed. His face was a deep scarlet, and Freddie wasn’t sure if the colour of Roger’s cheeks were because of his fury, or because he knew Brian was right. 

 "Come talk to me, Roger. Talk to the King of Love,” Freddie coaxed Roger with his index finger as he fell back dramatically on the sofa against the wall opposite the control table. 

 Roger simply rolled his eyes and relocated to the empty seat on the sofa by Freddie’s feet. The frontman kicked his bare legs out and crossed them over Roger’s lap while stretching this thin arms and placing them behind his head.

 "When’d this all start happening, Rog? I mean the weird feelings.“ 

 To this, the drummer simply shrugged. "Last week we had dinner at the neighbours’. The husband was talking about children, and marriage, and it was like…" 

 Brian and John raised their eyebrows expectantly. 

 "It was like I wasn’t acting anymore.”

 Freddie gave a knowing smile, and hummed gently. “Did you feel comfortable? Being domestic and romantic with her?" 

 "Fred, I’ve lived with those two for three years, and they have zero personal space.” Brian’s eyes moved from his reflection in Freddie’s sunglasses to the stressful gaze in Roger’s. “… is it different?”

 "Bri, I had women over all the time when we lived with you. I had no reason to have a girlfriend. I slept around, got the physical affection I needed, and she was just a friend…“

 John pursed his lips. ”Was,“

 Roger nodded a little, his eyes casting downward and burning holes into his already torn jeans. "Yeah. Was." 

 The blond suddenly looked up at his other bandmates. "We’re pretending to be a couple in a conservative, strict neighbourhood. It’s not like y/n would allow me to invite groupies home with us while catty neighbours spy on us from across the way. I’m not getting the physical attention I used to have, especially since sleeping around is impossible now." 

 The room then fell silent, and no one exactly made an immediate effort to say anything. 

 And then John gave a half-shrug. 

 "Why don’t you ask y/n?" 

 "Ask her what?”

 "Ask her to give you that attention,“ Freddie finished John’s point in a matter-of-fact tone. 

 ”No,“ Roger gasped. "No. No no no!" 

 "What? It’s a great idea,” Brian tried to reason. 

 "It’s bloody suicide! What would she think of me?! A sex-addict? A creep? A waste of time?“

 ”Roger,“ Brian stopped Roger’s listing. "She’s a single, gorgeous woman who loves you with all her heart, romantically-speaking, or not. You two already have this sort of secret commitment thing happening anyways but with housing rather than physical affection.”

 "And your point is…?“ 

 Freddie took over for Brian then with a sigh. "She has nothing to lose. You have nothing to lose. Why would adding onto your deal be a bad thing?" 

 To this, Roger didn’t respond. He didn’t have an answer. Freddie continued. "You sleep with women with no strings attached all the time. Living with your best friend while also bedding her doesn’t seem like a bad idea. What are you gonna do, catch feelings for her? You’re just horny.”

 "… Do you really think that’s all that’s wrong?“ 

 "That you’re stressed and just need a good lay?” John clarified.

 "Absolutely.“

 It was almost as if a weight had been lifted off Roger’s shoulders. All of his past issues were gone, out of his mind. 

He had nothing to worry about. 

 "There’s that smile we all needed,” Freddie gushed at Roger, who lowered his head in mild embarrassment. 

 "C'mon Rog. Let’s get to work.“ Freddie jumped up to stand before the control table, and Brian took a seat next to John. Roger returned to his drum kit inside the recording room, and after a count-in, Roger started drumming. 

 Needless to say, practice was flawless for the rest of the day.

_______________________________

A/A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed! Remember, new chapter up tomorrow!

@culturefiendtrashqueen @luvborhap @amy-brooklyn99 @scarsout @kimmietea @ohtheseboysilove @demo-wise @suavishowell @bohemianahoy @pippin248

[eerythingisshaka]

bUst...

[Gabe ? x Reader]

[Us (2019) Fanfic]

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Smut

A/N:  I said I was writing an Us fic, so here is my shot at it!  It’s inspired by an iconic kill from the film Halloween, so hopefully this is entertaining!

You sit up in bed looking through your phone for some quick celebrity updates on Instagram, but the reception is crap.  The old cabin Gabe insists on staying in every year for vacation smells of mildew, has more cobwebs than granny coochie, and is so far out in the boonies that your phone provider is forced to strip your phone down to its bare components to save data.  This is gonna be a long weekend.

Your bedroom door opens and your husband walks in.  Business up top and a party at the bottom, your husband loves his Howard paraphernalia and shows no shame in keeping those thighs on display with his booty short boxers, smirking like a kid playing hide and seek.

You set your phone down, rubbing your face and yawning.  “Are the kids down for the night?”

Gabe rubs his hands together walking towards you with a slight hop in his step.  “Oh yeah.  Quiet and safely tucked away.”

You sigh laying on your side and turning off your bedside lamp.  “Good and at a decent hour at that, I can finally get some shut eye.”

You close your eyes and begin to relax, pulling the blanket over you as Gabe’s weight moves the rickety bed further down toward the floor to join you.

“Can you move over a little more?”  Gabe asks, poking your back between your shoulder blades.

You groan as you move closer to the edge of your side.

“That’s not enough.”  Gabe complains.

You kiss your teeth, looking over your shoulder.  “Well I can’t scoot over anymore Gabe.  I told you to update this bedding situation before our trip, but noooo.  You’d rather share a twin size like usual.”

Gabe chuckles, shaking the bed.  “You have a lot of energy with that mouth tonight, huh?”

You mutter under your breath.  “I can give you more if you keep playing with my sleep…Did you lock the doors?”

Gabe sighs.  “Yes, even though no one, not even Snow White’s helpful friends, would be coming to bother us in the woods.”

“Good.  That’s all I ask when I agreed to this trip.  Safety, plumbing and electricity, and some peace and quiet.”

Silence falls over the both of you for a couple minutes, but you were still riled up.  Gabe plays so much, you can’t tell when he is being a crazy person or pulling a fast one on you.  Gabe keeps wiggling his legs back and forth restlessly, yawning out loud and smacking his lips demonstratively.  

“Gabe?”

“Yes, my dearest wife?”  Gabe says, rolling over behind you, pulling you close to him with one arm around your waist.  

“I want to sleep in peace.”  You say through your teeth.

“You don’t sound very peaceful.”  Gabe’s voice drops deeply, pulling the blanket down and rubbing his hand across your belly while kissing your earlobe.

“That’s because of you!”  You hiss.

“That’s cuz you are driving me crazy too.”  Gabe’s fingers find the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up slightly to trace the top of your panties.

You’re still riled up, ignoring his advances.  “How!  How am I the one driving you crazy?  I didn’t even want to be here, I’m not having fun at all!”

“Oh?”  Gabe’s says in a condescending manner, easing his fingers into your underwear.

You grip his arm, looking back at him.  “I’m being serious!”

“I am too.  You’re not having fun, so what’s more fun than sex in a different place?”  Gabe insists, kissing your shoulder while running his middle and ring finger along your folds, spreading your wetness along your clit with small circular motions.  

You feel a dip in the bottom of your stomach, widening your thighs slightly.  “You don’t take me seriously at all.”  You say softly, closing your eyes as your defenses being to slowly fall away.

Gabe nuzzles your neck, continuing his deed.  “See, you’re already more relaxed.  It’s been a minute since we got together, trying to plan this trip and all.  You’re tense, I get it.”

Your hips work in rhythm with his hand as your grip on his arm turns from protest to persistence.  “You don’t, but that’s ok for now.”  

You turn your head back to face him, kissing him deeply.  Gabe’s fingers dive into you easily, pumping in and out, making you moan into his mouth.  You reach between the two of you, sliding your hand over the opening of his boxers until you reach his hardened pleasure.  Gabe parts from your mouth to groan in precious agony as you wrap your hands around his dick, running your thumb around his head while your read his veins with your fingers like erotic braille.  His fingers pleasure your more vigorously as you wet yourself around his hand almost approaching your climax before he pulls away from you.

“Wait, why…”  You ask, missing it already.  Gabe answers you when he licks your sweetness off his fingers, long and slow, locking your attention in place.  

You knew what you had to do; when Gabe starts getting nasty like this, you don’t miss an opportunity to give into him.  You push him back, almost losing him over the side of the bed.  After a slight adjustment, you’re straddling him, rubbing your pussy along his dick in need of stimulation.

Gabe grabs your hips, eyes already starting to roll back.  “Ugh, work your magic for me, baby.”

You intended to.  You reach for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down to his knees and he pulls his shirt above his stomach.  Just as you begin to pull down your draws, you freeze.

Gabe grabs at his member, pulling on it but looking at you with slight concern.  “Is something wrong?”

You put your hands on your hips, thinking.  “No, nothing is wrong, but...Gabe, I wanna try something different.”

Gabe tugs himself slower, sitting up a little.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, just piggybacking off of what you said.  We are somewhere different.  And I want to make memories in this place that are lasting, right?”

“Sure…”  

“So!  Why not make this really last.  Start things off with a bang!  Why don’t we...roleplay?”

Gabe squints at you suspiciously, taking his time to pull his boxers back up.  “Who do you wanna be?”

You crawl up beside him.  “Well, it doesn’t really matter WHO we are, just kind of...how you treat me…”

Gabe scoffs.  “I treat you just fine.  How many pillows have you torn open trying to bite back on your moans and everything, I’m doing great as the receipts show.”

“I know-”

“Like ‘Thank you, Cum Again’ good.  I can go more innings than a baseball game, ask about me.”  Gabe says clapping his chest.

“Babe!  I know!  I’m just saying, remember around New Years when the kids stayed at your parent’s place?  We got a little drunk and things got a little crazy.”

Gabe crosses his arms, looking off into space.  “Oh yeah.  The kitchen and living room was such a mess, we didn’t have time to clean up all the way because we slept so late.  Had to say a bird got in the house and we were trying to trap it.”

“Yeah!  But what really happened was you were all rough and tough, pulling my hair and telling me what to do and how you want it.  Baby, that was really sexy.”

Gabe licks his lips smiling at you with heavy lidded eyes.  “So you want that guy again?”

You nod excitedly.  “Definitely.  The kids are on the other side of the cabin, it shouldn’t be too crazy for us to try that tonight.”

Gabe leans over closer to you.  “So I could some woodsy guy who lives along until some wayward woman runs up looking for shelter.”

“Ooooh, yeah, go on.”

Gabe runs the back of his hand along your cheek.  “And you’re from the city, so you have a lot of opinions because you Google stuff on how to live rural but you really don’t know, so I show you…No!  Make you...”

You fake snarl and bite at his hand.  “That’s nice, let’s go with something like that.”

You kiss his face, rubbing his chest but he holds your hands away.

“Before we start, I have something I can get to set the mood.”  Gabe gets off the bed going to the door.

You look back at him confused.  “What?  We don’t need props.”

Gabe shrugs.  “No, but I think it will set things off.  It’s a surprise, so just hold tight.  Keep yourself warm for me until I get back.”  He winks before leaving the bedroom.

You sigh, plopping back on the bed in frustration.  Gabe likes to go above and beyond the call of duty.  You feel like shouldn’t have said anything at all, otherwise you’d be busting all kinds of nuts on him.  

A minute passes before you pick your knees up, lifting your ass to take down your draws.  Gabe will be taking them off soon anyway, so you just make the access easier for him.  You’re wearing one of his shirts, and it fits like parachute around you.  Anxiously playing with your fingers you let your legs part, feeling some tension in your core.  Once you got started, you had to finish things off, with or without him.  He should be back soon though, so like he said, gotta keep things warm for him until he gets back.  

You let your knees fall apart and pull you shirt above your navel.  You slowly reach your hand underneath you, breathing deeply when you feel how wet you are from before.  First touch on your clit makes you shiver; homegirl is definitely hungry for a meal.  

You work yourself slowly, closing your eyes in the darkness of the room, illuminated by the bright moon shining outside the window.  You imagine your hands are Gabe’s touching your lips, massaging your g-spot firmly.  

Biting your lips you open your eyes and catch something in your peripheral.

“Oh shit!”  You exclaim, taking your hand away and covering your face.  You laugh to yourself when you peek between your fingers and see your man’s silhouette standing at the door.  

“Gatdamn, you scared me!  Ugh, thank God it’s just you.”

He continues to stand there, covered in the shadows of the doorway.

You sit up, sitting on the edge of the bed.  “Did you see me?  You’re usually more vocal when I’m doing some sexy shit, so maybe not.”

He stands there, silent.

“You know what I was doing before you got here?”  You ask seductively, getting up and walking over to him slowly.  “I was...touching myself...thinking of you...touching me…”

You stand right in front of him, reaching to rub his chest.  “Oh, what’s this you’re wearing?  Is this the surprise you have for me?  You actually put on a costume.”  

You feel along the tough synthetic fabric.  It appears to be a all one piece, coveralls in the color red.

You giggle softly.  “So you’re playing the strong silent type, huh?  I guess a man of the woods all alone wouldn’t be social.  That’s fine, I can play along.  You just tell me where you want me...and I’ll be there.”

Gabe doesn’t say a word, staying in character.

You sigh, already growing weary of the scenario.  “Well, I wish you would’ve chosen something more easy to remove.  That’s why I said no props.  Let me help you take this off, Mr. Woodsman.”  

You reach his collar feeling for a zipper, tugging it downward along the length of his torso.  The sound of the metal parting fills the room as you pull it along his chest, belly, until you reach his groin.

Suddenly, Gabe’s hands grab your wrists tightly.  

“Whoa, wha-”  You exclaim.  You’re speechless as Gabe picks you up by the biceps, your toes dangling above the floor.  He grunts as he takes you toward the bed, tossing you across it.

You bounce, steadying yourself on the springs.  “Gabe, wow!  You haven’t picked me up in forever.  I forgot how strong you are.”

Gabe’s expression is hard, looking at you like a menace in his life more than a lover.  And you weren’t too sure, but his beard even looked fuller and more wild.  

Your heart begins to race, thinking of what he was going to do next.  You look down at his groin area and see he is excited too.

You get your bearings and sit up, reaching for his dick, looking up at him with a smile on your face.  “I think I know what you need.  I can make that nice and wet for you.”

You stroke him a couple of times, seeing his belly rise and fell more deeply from your touch.  

“Wow, just look at you.  I don’t know how you were able to keep that all in under your clothes.  Even your dick seems in character, all serious business down here.”  With both hands around the base of his dick you lick your lips, salivating at the thought of running your tongue along his shaft.  But just before you were about to, he grabs you by the jaw and pushes you back.  

You’re taken back from the roughness, feeling your face as you crawl backward.  Gabe’s expression is still gruff as he leans over you, grabbing your foot to pull it up and back towards your head.

Your jaw drops from his action, spreading you across the spread eagle style, your pussy his show.  You pull his shirt up to expose your breasts to him, rubbing them.

“Yes, this is all yours.  I’m ready for you Gabe.”  You moan, feeling yourself throbbing in anticipation.  

Gabe finally breaks his focus from your eyes to your core.  Gabe’s expression doesn’t falter however, and you feel confused, touching the very spot he is concentrated on.

“It’s begging for you, can’t you see?  Don’t make me beg, I need your help with this.  Make me feel better, baby.”  You whine, running your fingers over yourself, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Gabe looks back you, letting out a low grunt before hovering over your body, legs still in his grasp as he lines himself up against you.  You reach for him once more, helping to him inside of you.

You gasp as his head breaks through you, spreading your walls out as he slides in deep within you gradually.  You can’t put your finger on it, but something about it seems different.  You’re having trouble taking it more than usual.  Gabe was right, it had been a while.

You grab his hands on your legs, breathing deeply.  “Be easy, you’re stretching it daddy.”

Gabe snarls, curling his lip up as he pulls back, popping his hips into you with a sharp thrust.  You squeal at his static strokes, slowly pulling out and popping right back into you.  You weren’t used to this rhythm, but you loved it.  The surprise of all that dick filling you quickly made you laugh, with the sensual release of his length threatening an orgasm hovering nearby.

But soon his stroke quickens, no longer giving you the ease of a slow pump, but back to back penetrations juicing your pussy just right.

“Ohhh, Gabe...:”  You moan, gripping his shoulders as he works his ass off on top of you.  This red jumpsuit staying on as he fucks a nearly naked you turns on the pleasure sensors of your brain.  Gabe takes your legs, digging his fingers into your thighs as he angles himself above you to dig you out properly.   His grunts are unrecognizable, making animalistic noises every other stroke like a wild beast, almost barking.

“Fuck...me...ugh!”  You cry out, just before Gabe pulls out of you.  He drags you by your legs halfway off the bed before grabbing your arm to turn you around on your face.  His palms feel rougher than normal as they rub your ass and hips, giving you a firm smack.

Your head pops up in surprise.  “Oh!  Hahaha!  Yes, do it again, daddy, please!”

He does just that; you feel the heat on your cheek as it tingles from the sharpness of his hit.  You feel him poking around your entrance again until he makes his way in, roaring loudly.

His pelvis slams into you as he keeps a firm grasp on your hips, holding you firmly in place for himself as he gets every ounce of what he needs from you.

You sit up slightly in your arch.  “Please, pull my hair.”  You gasp desperately.  Without hesitation his fingers find your roots and tug just right.  Your neck cranes as he hits you from the back, reigning you in like a bucking bronco at the rodeo.  You imagine your ass bouncing against his clothed lower half, how wrong it was but how right it feels.  Your edge is coming closer.

“Oh shit, oh shit, you feel that Gabe?  Baby, that dick is wrecking me, fuuuuck.”  You whine when he takes his hand off your hair, grabbing your arms to put them behind you.  

You have no support, no control when he takes you there.  You squeeze around him tightly as you strain wanting so bad to fight it but it was too late.  You feel your wetness run down your legs as you curse his name into the mattress.  Gabe does something you never heard him do, letting out a guttural howl of his own, so loud that if it wasn’t for you losing your breath in climax, you would’ve told him to be more quiet.  You barely wanted to complain though if he was having as good of a time as you were.

At his third howl, you hear a loud bang that sounded very wrong.  Your arms drop as his hands leave your body, followed by a thud to the floor.  You turn around as quickly as you can, covering yourself as you see Gabe standing with a baseball bat looking at the floor.

“Gabe!  What is going on??”  You shout as your body’s arousal and adrenaline hormones fight each other.

He bounds toward you, bringing you into a hug.  “Are you alright?  Did he hurt you?”

You push away, not knowing what he means.  “What are you talking about, you were with me!”

He shakes his head, taking off his glasses to rub the sweat out of his eyes.  “I was looking for my axe and some old cowboy boots I found in the basement when I heard howling.  It got louder as I got here, and then I saw…”  His voice trailed off as he looked behind him.

Your heart races as you look in the direction behind him.  A body in red knocked out cold.

“Gabe….I thought he was you….”

Gabe looks at you flabbergasted.  “What!?  How could you confuse me with another man!”

You begin to tremble.  “He looks...just like you.  He never said a word, but I….thought it was you playing….”

Gabe shakes his head, coming to standing.  “I was downstairs.  I wasn’t here.”  He goes over to the body, turning him on his back.  And lo and behold, it looked like Gabe was lying on the floor too.

“You....really couldn’t tell it was me?”  Gabe questions further.

You shrug.  “I mean, he did a good job of-”

Gabe scoffs.  “Of fucking you??”

You roll your eyes.  “Is that the hill you wanna die on right now!  A fucking CLONE just came into our home!”

Gabe’s hands go around the back of his head as his anxiety picks up.  “How can this be?”

Just then, the window glass shatters.

Masterlist

[tsundere-mitsuhide]

With All Your Light

I found this song earlier in the week, and it inspired me to write. I would suggest listening to it while you read because I tried to keep the cadence and mood of the song in the story. I translated the second verse with Google translate. AO3 link here. Soulmates AU, bittersweet songfic to follow under the cut. 

Mitsuhide sits in the grass, alone, staring up at the endless stars in the Sengoku sky. He looks longingly at the distant balls of light, wondering hopelessly when his time would come. 

That idiotic fortune teller he passed in town a few days ago still stuck in his mind. They said everyone has a person, somewhere in the world, who is their perfect mate. He’d heard of the “red string of fate” that tied two souls together, but surely it couldn't be true for him, could it?

“I thought sooner or later /

The lights up above /

Will come down in circles and guide me to love /

But I don't know what's right for me /

I cannot see straight /

I've been here too long and I don't want to wait for it…”

Maybe the heavens would bless him with his heart’s desire if he just sat there long enough. But it had been four nights of nothing but becoming more and more aware of how utterly alone he is. In a sense, he is afraid of living any other way. He is afraid of dragging someone into his messy, twisted world. He accepts that it was his role to protect those he could from the shadows, never letting them know what he was really up to, never taking any credit, and always disappearing like a ghost at the first signs of light. His hands were bloodied and he could never wash them clean enough for someone to accept him. 

But deep in his heart, he still wants someone to stand by his side, support him, dare he say care for him? There has to be one person out there who would be upset if he mysteriously vanished, right? 

“Fly like a cannonball, straight to my soul /

Tear me to pieces /

And make me feel whole /

I'm willing to fight for it and carry this weight /

But with every step /

I keep questioning what it's true.”

Mitsuhide wasn't a praying man; faith in anything other than himself had always abandoned him. But he finds himself wishing that someone special would just fall out of the sky…

“Fall on me /

With open arms /

Fall on me /

From where you are /

Fall on me /

With all your light.”

Dare he allow the hope that whoever his “person” may be—if he even has one—that they would be able to light up the eternal darkness of his life? 

“Fall on me /

With all your light /

With all your light /

With all your light.”

-----

Tazuki stands on the bridge of an overpass, trying to make out the stars in the sky through the light pollution of modern Kyoto as the cars zoom away beneath her. She often stops here to catch a glimpse of the sky as she walks home from work. But today, she had passed a fortune teller on an empty side street who had said something that she couldn't shake from her mind. 

“Soon a light will illuminate you /

Always follow it, guide you will know /

You don't give up, careful not to lose yourself /

And your past will make sense to you.”

She feels like this was somehow tied to the destiny she knows she carries; that sense that she is meant for greater things than working in the university archives. She felt drawn to--and connected to--the past in ways that others couldn't quite understand. She’s always felt like she was born in the wrong era. Maybe that's why she ended up studying history and how she found herself a solitary archivist, always hunting through dusty shelves of ancient military tomes that no one else really cares about. Maybe there was someone out there, somewhere in the vast world, who understood. 

“I wish you believed in yourself, but yes /

In every step you move here /

It is an endless journey…”

A stiff breeze blows through her, and Tazuki sighs. At least the stars understand, right?

“I'll smile if /

In the fleeting time, you take me with you.”

-----

Mitsuhide holds still as a strong wind rustles his clothes and mats his hair. If he strains his ears, he thinks he hears the faint sound of the wind answering what he has kept hidden inside. 

“Fall on me /

(Listen to me) /

Fall on me /

(Hug me) /

Fall on me /

(As long as you want)...”

He must have finally lost it; that's the only explanation he can think of. With a sigh, he stands and walks back to Sakamoto castle. 

That night, he has a dream. Mitsuhide never dreams. He dreams of a woman, but she felt far away. There are bright lights flashing by her, which adds to the surreal feeling she brings him. She is staring at the sky with the same sense of longing he feels. 

Who is this mysterious woman?

-----

Tazuki tries to go about her business the next morning as if everything was normal. But the truth is, that it is not a normal morning. She couldn’t stop thinking about the strange dream she’d had the night before. 

There was a man, bathed in moonlight, sitting in a field of tall grass and staring at the stars. He felt familiar somehow… like he was someone important. But she couldn’t place him and it was driving her nuts. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees his lithe figure, all in white, and surrounded by the dark dark night. No lights, nothing but vast, empty blackness, the stars, and this mysterious man. 

“I close my eyes /

And I'm seeing you everywhere /

I step outside…”

The more she thinks about him, the more lonesome she becomes. She is consumed by his phantom image as she wrecks her brain for the connection she must be missing. 

------

Mitsuhide could not shake the image of the woman from his dream. He saw her everywhere; as if she was a shadow or a trick of the light… It felt like she could be standing beside him and he just hadn’t seen her yet. It was infuriating, but also strangely comforting. He didn't understand it. 

“I step outside /

It's like I'm breathing you in the air /

I can feel you're there…”

------

That night, Mitsuhide wanders back out to the field he has been occupying at night for stargazing. This night though, wouldn't be like the others. 

As he sits looking at the stars, there is a flash of light in the distance. Odd… It's too big to be a shooting star or lightning… 

Suddenly he feels a sharp pain in his chest and the inexplicable feeling that he needs to go toward the strange light. Almost as if his very soul is compelling him to move, he gets up and strides toward the stables. 

-----

Tazuki finds herself surrounded by a dark fog. She can’t see anything around her. One minute she was standing on the overpass as usual, and the next, she is enveloped in darkness. The more she tries to move through it, the denser it seems to become. So she chooses not to fight it, and just wait for it to dissipate. 

She hadn't realized she had closed her eyes until she opens them again to see the dark blue sky, unadulterated by modern electricity. There are no buildings that she can see, only trees a good length away from where she stands. She takes a deep breath of warm summer air and a thrill runs through her. Wherever she is, she can feel that she is finally where she belongs. Her feet are heavy as if rooted to the ground like a tree. So she stays in the clearing, eyes turning towards the stars to read the constellations and determine her general location. 

-----

Mitsuhide gallops through the night, following nothing but the push-pull sensation that has arisen inside of him and guides him through the forest. In the stillness, he can hear the whisper of the wind from the night before, echoing louder and louder the closer he rides to whatever awaits him. 

“Fall on me /

(Listen to me) /

Fall on me /

(Hug me) /

Fall on me /

With all your light.”

Mitsuhide practically leaps off his horse, heart pounding and ears ringing. His feet feel heavy but that's because the rest of his body feels like it's floating. Dragging his unruly feet, he stumbles away from the horse, passed the last row of trees, and into the clearing. 

-----

Tazuki turns due west and points. “Ah, Saturn! And Pisces right above the horizon. Though its lower than before.” She turns in the opposite direction, facing due east. “And there’ s Virgo, perfectly on the horizon. Huh. Virgo wasn't out yet before.” She speaks in English, reverting to her native language as she practices the skills her father taught her as a child. The sky is much more precise here. It must be the lack of electric lights. I must still be in Japan if the sky is the same. There are slight differences though so it must also be around the same month and day. But why does everything look so different then? 

She hears a rustle from the south end of the field and turns. There, standing on the edge of the clearing is the man in her dream. He looks as if he is casually leaning against a tree, watching her. 

-----

He nearly falls to his knees when he sees her in the clearing, and if it isn't for the noticeable hitch in his breathing, he would think he is dreaming again. He watches her curiously from afar as she stargazes. 

Until she turns around and they lock eyes. 

“Fall on me /

With all your light.”

[emybain]

After Archenemies 3/?

In honor of not getting on Tumblr tomorrow, here is part 3 of whatever this is to anyone who liked the first two parts. In all honesty idk what this part is, and it might be a little soon for what follows, but I wasn't planning on making this fic long anyways so...yeah. Here is part 1 and here is part 2 if you care. feel free to check out my other works also! enjoy! warning: I dont really edit these that much, so please be kind if you see errors! this is also shorter than what I usually write, just fyi.

Edit: heck i forgot to post the links to the previous parts...ill do it later lmao

Nova’s communicator band had gone off three times in the past hour. She had taken it off and set it on her mattress after it first went off. She didn't need the distraction, especially if that distraction was Adrian Everhart.

“Why are you still staring at that thing?” Nova looked up to see Honey in the doorway of their shared room, leaning against the cracked door frame. She was examining her polished nails. “If you look at it any longer, the filthy Renegade will be able to turn back to normal.”

Nova pushed back the chair she was sitting on in front of Honey’s vanity where Danna’s butterfly was currently trapped. It remained immobile for the most part. When Nova would start to worry if it had died, it would crawl around its little prison. “Just thinking.” About her uncle. About how they would be able to free him from the Renegades. About Nightmare. About a certain Renegade boy.

She closed her eyes, feeling a headache forming at the base of her neck.

“Well, you can think and answer your little Renegade buddies.” Honey gestured towards the communicator band resting on top of a jewelry box. “That ringing is driving me nuts. I can hear it all the way downstairs.”

Nova rolled her eyes, but picked up the band nonetheless. “It’s only gone off three times, Honey. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Me? Not dramatic?” Honey laughed, the sound like bells. “In your dreams, sweet girl.” She strutted into the room, reached over Nova, grabbed a magazine that was open on her vanity, and sauntered back out. Her perfume lingered, stronger than ever. Nova waved her hand in front of her face. Vintage fumes were the last thing she needed for her aching head.

Her communicator band went off again, and she heard Honey yelling from the first floor to shut it off before she did. Nova looked down at the device, scrolling through her notifications. The first one, nearly an hour ago, was from Adrian.

This is last minute, but we’re meeting in the HQ library in about 30 minutes, Let me know when you get here. It’s about Nightmare.

Nova froze. That couldn’t be good. This was it, she thought. They figured her out, and this was Adrian trying to lure her into a trap to arrest her.

Taking a deep breath, she checked the next message, which was sent twenty minutes after the first.

Nova? Are you busy? If not, please respond.

The third one was five minutes after the first.

Of course you’re busy. You would’ve responded by now. Ignore my last message.

The most recent text was sent two minutes ago.

Nova? We’re all here. You’re not dead or something, are you? Please tell me you aren’t because I would be really upset.

Nova snorted, shoulders relaxing in relief. She believed she was safe, for the time being. She bit her lip, thinking of a response.

Hey. Sorry. Turns out I’m pretty sick, and my uncle took anything that could distract me so I could rest.

Nova thought back to a few days before, when she had pretended to feel under the weather in order to have an excuse to leave the visit to Max. She couldn’t stand to be there any longer without being weighed down by the guilt. It was a believable lie. Besides, she didn’t have time to do detective work with Adrian on her secret identity, nor did she have the patience for it. The quicker she and the rest of the Anarchists figured out a way to free Ace, the sooner she could drop the ridiculous Renegade charade.

Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want me to come by later to give you some company?

The smile that grew on Nova’s face was inevitable, along with the giddy spark in her stomach. She suppressed it though, and denied his offer, pushing away all thoughts of being able to curl up against Adrian while they did something as mundane as watching a movie.

No, thank you though. My uncle is pretty strict whenever I get sick and doesn’t like visitors. Maybe another time?

She received a response almost immediately.

Definitely! I hope you get to feeling better, Nova.

It was so sweet. Nova’s heart ached. Even though she wasn’t sick, she had a feeling she would feel better soon anyways.    

Thanks, Adrian.

Nova sent the text. She debated on whether or not to send something else. Something came to mind, and she immediately cringed. Then Ace’s words floated through her mind. Earn his affection.

Well.

With a defeated sigh, Nova reluctantly sent a text with a heart.

Sweet rot, her IQ just dropped by 20.

Downstairs, Honey started singing. Nova suspected she was cleaning; she tended to sing when fixing up the old house. Nova groaned. Honey wasn’t a terrible singer, but it did not mix well with Nova’s pounding head. Maybe she was actually getting sick.

Standing from the vanity, Nova brushed off her leggings. The butterfly was moving in its prison, crawling lazily along the side of the glass. Nova bent down to eye level with it. She could’ve sworn it made eye contact with her.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she murmured. “Maybe in a different reality we’d be friends.” She meant it, much as she hated to admit it to herself. Danna was a lot like her; it was a shame they were too alike, for that’s what got Danna trapped in the first place.

Nova sighed and rose back up. She took off her communicator band, then reached for her coat lying on the bed and headed downstairs. Honey’s trilling voice grew louder. She was singing some song about the beauty of the southern countryside.

Leroy was seated in the dimly lit kitchen, surrounded by lab equipment. Nova saw the samples of Agent N she had snatched in the past few weeks. He nodded in Nova’s direction as form of greeting, too engulfed in his work. As Nova suspected, Honey was cleaning. She was standing on a towel on top of the counter, wiping a wet rag across the higher cabinets.

Nova cleared her throat. “I’m going for a walk. You guys need anything while I’m out?”

They both chorused a “No.” Nova nodded.

“I’ll be back, then.”

“Hey, Adrian...um… come check this out,” Ruby whispered hesitantly from the computer across his. Adrien looked up from his communicator band, the faint trace of a smile on his lips from Nova’s last text. The heart was unexpected, and frankly, not like Nova at all, but it radiated Adrien’s body in warmth. The concentrated set in Ruby’s eyes made the smile fade, however.

They were in the Renegade library and archives, doing research on Nightmare. Adrian had about five open tabs about her most recent sightings and activity. One of the tabs was an article discussing the identity of the Anarchist, but the information was of no use to Adrian.

He got out of his chair and walked around the table to stand behind Ruby. Next to her, Oscar leaned over, craning his neck to see the screen. There was an unopened file in front of Ruby.

“So I was thinking about what you told us, about Nightmare being Ace Anarchy’s niece?” Adrian nodded, and Ruby continued. “Well, his last name is Artino, correct?” Adrian nodded again. “I looked up the name, and well, I guess you should see for yourself.” She clicked on the file. It was a report from about ten years ago filed by his own dad, Hugh Everhart.

Four people found dead. David Artino: age 31. Tala Artino: age 30. Evie Artino: age 11 months. One unnamed man: age unknown. Suspected Anarchist or Roach affiliation.

Forensics confirm all deaths were a result of direct trauma from bullet wounds, without prodigy interference. Prints found on the gun matched both those of the unnamed man and also those of Alec Artino (alias: Ace Anarchy).

There is reason to suspect the deaths of the three family members were done as a killing for hire. The motive for the homicide remain under investigation. See the full report as filed by Hugh Everhart (Captain Chromium) here.

Additional notes: The eldest child, a six year old girl, was not found at the scene. Neighbors have reported no knowledge of her whereabouts. A report has been made to the Renegades missing persons unit.

Oscar whistled lowly. Ruby had highlighted the last paragraph. She was watching the two boys, lips pursed. Adrian read the report, over and over again. Something about it wasn’t right.

“Was the girl ever found?” Oscar asked. Ruby answered his question by opening another file. This one was a missing persons form, dated ten years ago. 

Name: Nova Jean Artino

Age: Six (6) years old

Height: Unknown

Weight: Unknown

Description: Black hair, blue eyes, parents were Italian and Filipino.

Status: Not found

If any information is known, contact the Renegades Missing Persons Unit.

Below the information was a fuzzy picture of a girl, taken by an outdated camera probably. She grinned at the person behind the camera, a wide gap below her upper lip where two front teeth should have been. In her arms was a newborn baby, fast asleep in her sister’s arms. Adrian let out a small gasp. He took the mouse from Ruby and zoomed in on the girl’s face. Her features were chubby, but the hard set of her jaw was unmistakable.

“Great skies,” Oscar breathed. “That’s not...it can’t be..”

“It is,” Ruby confirmed, disbelief in her voice. “That’s our Nova.”

[galemalio]

Title: Rift

Summary: Mickey always blamed himself for the rift between him and Donald. For not being there for Donald during WW2. For not convincing Walt harder to get drafted too. So he tries his best to be a better friend after that. Like keeping him out of trouble by convincing him not to join protests in 2018. Because Disney Studios moves safely in involving itself with political matters. But there are some things Mickey couldn't understand in Donald's world that’s bigger than Disney Studios.  

Author’s Note: After running into so many news about the current events in the US, I’ve always wondered how Donald Duck would react to it. After all, he was “drafted” in 1942 to fight against the Nazis. He would have a far different experience and views from Mickey who Walt refused to get involved with war propaganda.

It was like reasoning with a wall. A feathered, stomping wall.

“Donald, you know how they feel about this,” Mickey still attempted. He ducked. An icebox flew. It crashed right into the living room. More scrapings ensued in the closet where it came from.

He straightened up again slowly, arms crossed over his head. In case more heavy objects decided to defy gravity. “They don’t like it when we get involved with controversies.”

Donald just soldiered past him, his bill pressed into a firm stubborn line. He grabbed the icebox and went to the kitchen. Mickey followed. He watched Donald upend ice cube trays into the ice box.

“You know what Walt would say if he was still alive?” Mickey asked. He didn’t miss how Donald paused. How Donald bashed the ice cubes out of the tray with renewed aggression. The duck flung open the refrigerator door.

“He’d say we’re here to bring magic,” he said louder over the water bottles now being dumped into the icebox. “Donald!” he grabbed Donald’s wrist to stop him from tuning him out. “Whatcha want to do is great and all. But there are other ways to help without complicating things for everybody.”

Donald snatched his wrist away, his eyes burning with weight that was ready to fly off the handle. Instead, he grabbed the filled icebox and turned his back on Mickey.

Mickey’s mouth hung open. Donald was obviously irate. When Donald is irate, he would be ranting. Which would make him more gibberish. Which would make him less understandable. Which would just add fuel to his fire.

But underneath his own confusion, there was a stinging twinge at Donald’s dismissal. He could feel it again. The rift between them. It was beyond the clash of their personalities that had labelled them as an odd couple. A curious disconnect that had stretched for more than 70 years.

Then talk to me, Donald! He wanted to shout. Walt had always said Donald is his problem child. Mickey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I want to join protests too. I want to do the good. But this is messy.” He went around to face Donald again. “We’ll find another way to help,” he said with a hopeful smile. Hope that he got through to Donald. Hope that Donald realizes the weight they carry as Walt’s children. Hope that for once, Donald would listen.

Donald only walked past him and disappeared in the closet again. Mickey wanted to tear his own ears off. Ever since Donald’s creation back in 1930s, Donald never recognizes Mickey’s responsibility in being in charge -in and out of the set.

“Amy will be harder on you after this,” he said. Amy was Donald’s newest handler. Donald was usually a tired, passive slacker. Until he goes off. After that, it’s a battle of wills with a duck that had mastered bullheadedness into perfection. Eighty years could do that.

Donald didn’t answer. He just placed the first aid kit beside the icebox. Mickey gaped at it. Donald, as a toon, hardly needs that. Toons were pretty much indestructible. “What does Daisy think about this?” Mickey asked.

“She. Un. Der. Stands,” he grounded out, each syllable a heel grinding pointfully on Mickey.

Mickey frowned, meeting his eyes. That was unfair. Here he was trying to communicate with someone who’s shutting him out and he was the one who couldn’t understand him?

I should’ve been there for him, he thought in frustration. Should’ve tried harder with Walt. I could’ve convinced him. I would’ve been there for him.

Should’ve. Could’ve. Would’ve.

Mickey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Once he had asked Walt why Donald couldn’t just be good. Everything you are, he isn’t, Walt had confided. Everything he is, you aren’t.

“Who are you going with?” Mickey asked.

Donald looked away and his shoulders fell with a huff. In his own Donaldy-way, it was his form of regret. For that, Mickey forgave him.

“I’m going with José and Panchito,” he offered in a gruff non-apology apology.

Mickey tried to ignore the surge of jealousy. Panchito and José have helped Donald from his darkest times after World War 2. Something he nor Goofy couldn’t get Donald out of.

He chastised himself. At least they made Donald smile back in those days when Mickey could only watch as Donald spiralled. Panchito and José could be controversial -smoking and gunning and sleeping around. But the two birds were good for Donald. He remembered how Donald would disappear to Brazil or Mexico at least once a year. Perhaps, even too good.

“They want to be there for the immigrants,” Donald said. Mickey quickly wiped away any emotion his face might betray. He wondered if Donald saw right through his shameful jealousy. He was supposed to be a good friend. Someone who’s purely happy for him.

Donald took his placard from its resting place. His fingers slid down the freshly dried paint, its message bold and clear.

“Mickey… remember when Goofy and I got drafted?”

Mickey startled. Donald never talked about the war. Never wanted to. Mickey placed his hands over his. Just as he predicted, Donald moved his hands away, still holding the sign.

“I wanted to be drafted too,” Mickey quietly said. His ears lowered. “But Walt wouldn’t let me.”

Another closeted flaw he kept to himself. While Goofy was only a posterboy in bombardment squads, Donald was more involved in the war. Aside from the propaganda films, Donald actually served.

But at what cost?

The stormier eyes. The heightened sensitivity to sudden noises. (Grenades, he told himself. It was those goshdarned grenades.) The defeated weariness after there was nothing left to destroy in his fits of anger. The directors thought it was funny. Mickey had trusted Walt.

In a way, Walt did help Donald. He brought him along to his diplomatic missions in Latin America where Donald first met José. Then Panchito. Mickey wished Donald had gotten psychiatric help sooner instead.

“I should’ve convinced him harder to let me get drafted too,” Mickey said, his voice dropping into a whisper. The room seemed to get colder as he pulled out his own confessional like pulling out his teeth with a rusty hook. “It should’ve been us together: Mickey, Donald and Goofy. Like we always do.”

And maybe then, you wouldn’t have to face the war alone, he thought, a bitter taste invading the back of his throat.

Donald dryly stared at him as though Mickey couldn’t see it.

See what?! Mickey wanted to scream. This wasn’t the first time Donald had looked at him laconically like he was a little kid. A little kid who couldn’t tell apart real life from cartoons. Whenever Mickey gave thought about Donald, the duck was stimulatingly, frustratingly a bag of contradictions. Selfish and selfless. Apathetic and passionate. But self-absorbed and aware at the same time?

But he was Mickey Mouse. He didn’t rage or scream. That was Donald’s thing. Instead, he only felt lost. He was usually the one who shows Donald how to be happy. But when did bliss became ignorance?

“You’re his golden boy,” Donald opened the first aid kit and counted the gauze. There was no resentment. No jealousy. Just weariness from living with the facts. “Walt would never be convinced to get you tainted by reality.”

Mickey held his arm as if covering a sting.

“Walt meant well,” Mickey said, he couldn’t help that his tone sounded protesting. “He just didn’t expect...” he shrugged, looking around. Trying to find the right word for the gray that came after. The gray that had colored Donald underneath pristine white feathers. “...Everything.”

There was something distant in Donald’s eyes as he looked at Mickey. Like he was watching a bird fly because that’s what birds do.

“No point regretting what wasn’t done,” Donald said, eyeing the amount of antiseptic in a bottle. Mickey got the feeling he wasn’t only talking about him not getting drafted.

“Donald,” Mickey grabbed his arm. This was it. “I wasn’t there to share what you’ve been through-”

Donald tried to shrug him off, looking confused. “I never wanted you to.”

But Mickey held on. “-and I’m trying to be a better friend-”

“What?!”

“-that’s why I don’t want you to get into trouble.” Mickey could already imagine the internet wars following the protests where Donald, Panchito and José would be seen. With Donald’s temper, probably lawsuits included. The PRs. The paparazzis going nuts. “The executives would let us hold charities. Give donations. Promote NGOs. Be a more positive influence without opposing anyone.”

He squeezed his arm. “Donald, things don’t always have to be messy.”

Donald leaned away. He stared at Mickey so hard, Mickey could almost see the gears grinding behind his eyes.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not your fault,” Donald finally said.

“But Donald-”

“Nope! Nu-uh! You’re not going to make me say it, Mickey!”

“Donald, what’re you-”

“You’re a great friend! There! I said it!” Donald’s face shone firetruck red. “Don’t you dare try any harder or you’ll drive me up the wall!”

Mickey stood there frozen, trying to understand what was happening. Donald only looked at him frustratingly, silently blaming him at the turn of their conversation.

“Does that mean you’ll take up my offer?” Mickey asked in a small, hopeful voice that wheedled through the awkwardness between them.

Donald slapped a hand over his face. Hard. He slowly dragged it over his eyes. Then down his bill. Mickey felt like a kid who had asked an idiotic question to a parent whose patience was running thin.

But instead of throwing up his hands with an “Ah, phooey!” Donald just sighed.

“Mickey… I’ve seen what that hate,” he gestured outside, “had lead to before.“

Mickey snapped to attention. Donald spoke each word slow and deliberate to be understandable over his speech impediment. Donald never had the patience for it before.

Donald picked up his icebox and first aid kit, his sign tucked under his arm. “This is another war and I’m going to fight it.” A shadow crossed his face that Mickey could only imagine what it was. “Before it gets bloody…. Bloodier than last time.”

Before he could walk away, Mickey grabbed his hand. Donald glanced at it before looking at Mickey.

“I can’t be there with you,” Mickey said quietly. Rough with anguish at what he must do. Or rather what he mustn’t do.

Donald only smiled as though once again, he was expecting this. “I know.”

Mickey could almost feel the “child-friendly” bounds keeping him at place. It was what Walt would’ve wanted for him. He tried to smile back.

Donald laughed at his attempt. His smile must’ve looked like he was grinding broken glass under his palm.

“Ah, phooey!” His webbed foot kicked imaginary dust. Donald slipped his hand away from his, looking anywhere but at Mickey’s unbearably conflicted face. “The kids still need you. Away from all of this,” Donald waved his hand.

Mickey just hung his head and Donald thought harder.

“This time, I won’t really be alone,” he finally said. “Don’t worry ‘bout me!”

They suddenly hear a car honk in the beat of the Cucaracha.

Donald’s face lit up with a smile that could challenge the sun. “Panchito! José!” He was gone in a puff of dust. Mickey didn’t need to see them to know that they’re in a happy tangle of hugs with a confusing showering of Portuguese-Spanglish.

Mickey watched them by the door. There was still a rift between them. An abyss that Mickey couldn’t cross. Walt meant so much to him that he would always follow Walt’s wish. Donald had understood that longer. However, above that abyss, there was now a connection firmly taut between them.

He watched them all shout, “The Three Caballeros!” He felt that surge of jealousy again. This time, it was fainter. There was an acceptance with the fact that at least Panchito and José wouldn’t just be there to pick up the pieces like last time. They would have his back.

Donald gave him one last glance and Mickey finally gave him a genuine smile, waving. Panchito and José waved back. They drove off, their picket signs sticking out of their car.

As long as Donald wouldn’t be alone in the other side of the rift, Mickey took comfort that he would be okay.

Author’s Notes: Alright, most of you may not like where Mickey had stood in here. But Mickey is the face of Disney who always do what’s right for his Disney kingdom. He would always choose the pacifist way first until it no longer works. Donald, who has a slight disregard for rules, would’ve set for a more confrontative path.

[btsjeonjazz]

Faster II pt. 1

Jungkook x reader

genre: smut. Period. 

word count: 9.8

I just wanted to get this out of my head.

You forgot him, but Jeon didn’t forget you.

His large, bony fingers hit the already stinging, red spot on your stomach, your loud moans the only sounds leaving the room in that strange house, surrounded by drunken people, sex, drugs and other kinds of things you couldn't count and dared to talk about. You were no exception as you lay on your back, your legs spread wide for the guy hovering hungry over your naked body, your mind a mess, drunk from the different alcohols mixing in your bloodstream. The beautiful, feral growling stranger you had hooked up with tilted his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes while he shot you a smug smirk, his hands tugging at the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head, revealing a toned stomach, abs lining his soft skin. He was the most attractive guy you had ever met and the pleasure to hook up with, one small problem that you didn't quite get what you were doing and who he was.

“Beg for me, my sweet baby”, his deep voice was suddenly close to your ear, his pretty mouth pressed against it. Shuddering you started to moan again, his warm fingers tapping on the aching place in the middle of your stomach where he hit you several times, because you were awfully slow to get undressed being tipsy as you were. He seemed not to be the patient type wherefore his digits dug deep into your lower stomach leaving you panting in pain and arousal. “I said beg.”

It took all your concentration to slur out the words he wanted to hear. “Fuck me already.”

Satisfied his fingers wandered down between your legs again, cupping your sex with his warm hand, his lips on your ear purring a praise which you didn't even hear, or understood as his bony index finger found its way over your wet slid. Hissing he held up his hand to show you the faintly glistering juices coating his skin.

“I barely touched you, kissed you and you're that turned on? Is it the hitting?”, he demonstrated what he meant as his other hand smacked your skin under your chest, the feeling of being dominated by..what was his name again..felt too good to stay still. “Just as I thought, acting like the innocent girl every guy's head turns around and wanna taste once, but you're not the sweet angel you claim to be, are you? Or why are you spreading your legs like the little slut I knew you were?”

His low voice sent shivers down your spine, your mouth dried up as he kissed a path over your jawline up to your ear again where his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your earlobe, his hand buried between your legs again. A long, heavy stroke made you squirm, his fingers gliding into you without a second warning, curling the moment he touched your slick walls. The worst of it all was that his lips parted to take in your earlobe, nibbling softly on it, a completely opposing action from his merciless hand moving over your clit. Mewling something like his name – or whatever it was - you threw your head on the sheets below you, gripping them whereas the handsome dark angel above you bit down your lobe violently..the pictures in the dimly lit room gradually blurring..

“Fuck-”, that one word was everything you were able to let out before a warm feeling spread out inside your lap, his digits rubbing over your twitching bundle of nerves and a white curtain falling over your eyes, letting you forget what you experienced that night..at least that was what you thought..

What a fucking boring party, Jungkook thought as his friend flirted heavily with the only two fuckable chicks the party had to offer, one in Hoseok's arm, the other on his lap, the drink in his hand tasting bad hence he let it roll in his glass without taking a second sip. His eyes darted through the room the hundredth time that night, watching some semi hot girls dance, some drinking and some making out with even lamer guys on the few free spots while he wasn't drawn by any of the female guests entering that shitty house party he was invited to by his friend, Hoseok, with the words don't worry, dude, there are premium chicks, the best asses in the city. The only nice girls already taken or busy sucking on other guys dicks in the furthest corner of the living room where he really wanted to be right now. Jimin, the guy who lived here too, was out this weekend, and his best friend. So, no wonder the party was that lame with his friend missing in it.

“Why are you that stiff tonight? Relax, dude, the right one will come eventually, just wait and enjoy”, Hoseok patted Jungkook's shoulder with his signature bright smile, winking at him as to why he rolled his eyes with a faint grin.

“As if I wait for the right one. I just wanna fuck, that's all”, he shouted over the loud music, one of the two girls in Hoseok's arms turning her head. She wasn't that bad, but something was missing as she threw her long, blonde hair over her bare shoulder, her eyes checking him out bluntly, licking her red painted lips. Boring, too easy to get, not even a challenge. As if girls were a challenge anymore. Cocking his brows up he let out a deep unamused chuckle. “Not interested.”

With those words he ran his hand through his black hair, averting his dark orbs to roam the room again. His legs were spread wide, taking most of the space on the couch as the blonde chick hopped off of Hoseok's lap to casually put her ass on one of his jeans covered thighs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“You can have her for a bit fun, but don't do her too hard, she needs to work a lot after she's done with you”, his friend wiggled his brows in his direction, nodding at the girl with flirty eyes, his words dirty even for him.

“I don't share and you know that”, Jungkook's lips formed a thin line as he untangled the girls hands behind his head, gesturing her to get back to her previous place on Hoseok's lap, not his.

“But I can't leave you all alone”, the blonde pouted whereas she shot him a sad glance, her eyes dangerously close down his upper body. “And you're hot, so why not?”

Jungkook sighed, starting to get annoyed by her words and presence, her hand laying on his thigh, massaging it. Smacking her fingers away he slid away from Hoseok and his two booty calls for the night, getting a disbelieving stare out of his friend's shocked eyes. He couldn't believe that the Jeon Jungkook rejected such an offer from one damn fine chick. But his friend didn't care, his eyes signalling him to shut up and leave him be, the week already shitty enough after he had to move in with Hoseok to live closer to the university he would visit from three weeks on. That was the reason he had agreed – despite the unfulfilled promise – to free his head from the stress caused by work, college, moving out and in.

“Well, Jungkook, I leave for a while”, Hoseok nudged his side with a cocky smile shooting in the waiting girls direction. “Don't wait for me.”

“As if I'd do that”, Jungkook chuckled waving his friend shortly before he stood up to leave the disaster of a 'party', enough of the loud music, the gross drinks and ugly women to call one of his back up chicks to spent the night with. Dialling a number of a girl who's name he already had forgotten and saved as '#2' he squeezed his tall body through a group of drunk girls, their laughter shrill in his ears. Almost out he pressed the button to call #2, bumping into two girls staggering past him, his phone falling to the ground with a silent 'thud' that couldn't be heard over the masses and music.

“Fuck, why don't you-”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you”, one of the girls crouched down, her hair falling over her face, her legs having difficulties to hold up her weight as her trembling hand fished for his phone in front of his black boots. He waited impatiently for her to stand up again, his phone in her hand. She wore nothing more than a black, shoulder free dress, her heart shaped neckline covering her upper curves perfectly, not too much, but the right amount to drive a guy nuts. Her pumps were way too high to stand in, not to talk about walking, in her state. There was only one thought as he looked into her face. Beautiful.

“I really am sorry. But no scratches or anything else. Here”, she held out his phone for him to take it, but instead of grabbing it and leaving he straightened himself, adjusting his leather jacket over his broad shoulders. A smug smirk played around his lips as he saw her shifting nervously under his stare. “Uhm..”

Jungkook licked his lips, a move that signalled everyone he had found what he was looking for that night. A beautiful girl, seeming drunk and maybe even willing to spend the night with him, playing to his conditions. “Jungkook. And you?” He didn't wait for another invitation as he closed his large hand over his preys in an attempt to take his phone back, but instead caressed her soft skin with his thumb.

He saw the girl blushing the moment his skin met hers, her eyes darting down his body before she nodded slightly. “Y/n.”

Y/n. What a pretty name to call while fucking her, the dark haired guy thought, his grin deepening. “You seem pretty drunk for a shitty party like that”, he started the conversation in the middle of the hallway, his back turned to the door while your friend impatiently shifted herself on her feet, gesturing down the hall where she disappeared without your notice.

Your hand was warm, slightly sweaty while shaking his off with a shy smile. “Not as drunk as I want to be”, you laughed nervously, your glassy pupils darting between his lips down his body and back up before your thumb pointed over your shoulder. “To change that I'll go and get a drink. See you, Jungkook.”

He never thought of the possibility to be shown the cold shoulder from the one girl that finally sparked his interest hence he hastily kept up with your unsteady steps, back inside the living room he escaped from. You were clearly smaller than him despite your high heels, your delicate frame shifting into his path, his hands shooting up to steady your walk.

“Slow down there”, he chuckled as you looked at him out of confused eyes to find him holding you with his large hands.

“Ah, sorry”, was all you responded, your hand brushing off his own from your bare shoulders in a clumsy way. “I thought you were rushing outside.”

“Something changed my mind”, his lips pursed into a smug grin. Jungkook shoved his fists in his jeans pockets, still alert if you needed help. “But where are you heading that fast? And with those shoes?” Laughing he nodded downwards your eyes following him ere you shrugged your shoulders.

“It seems as if my friend left me a minute ago and I can't stand being alone on a party I don't know anyone”, your voice was laced with annoyance as you searched over the drunken people hanging out around to find your friend. Sneaky as Jungkook was he didn't tell you that your friend was already sitting outside in the garden with two guys, a drink in her hand and seductive smile playing on her pink painted mouth. Well, she wouldn't come back anytime soon, just like Hoseok left him. There was only one solution to that case: You had to stay with him. And if you didn't want to, then he made you want to.

“You're not alone”, he wiggled his dark eyebrows with a lopsided smirk your way, your head held up to giggle, a sound almost inaudible for him, but he saw how your lips parted slightly.

You stopped after you hid your snicker behind a cough. “I am. So..if you excuse me..”

Jungkook's long legs came to a halt as well, his eyes once with shock now gradually seeing red, a fire lit behind them that threatened to burn him down as it reached his cock. You wanted to play the good girl who wouldn't consider him as a man who wanted to fuck? Wrong league, sweet baby, he thought, a low growl vibrating in his chest. You had turned away from him, your back exposed by the tight dress, skin looking utterly soft he nearly touched as he stepped forward to lean down. His hand brushed your hair over your shoulders to get better access to your ear.

“Am I not existing or why do you assume to be alone?”

Jungkook's brown orbs witnessed the light hair on your body to stand up, goosebumps forming on your cleavage, arms and neck while he intentionally breathed out a warm gust of air on your neck. Now you couldn't deny his presence or ignore his innocent tries to keep you company. Innocent? Did this word even exist in his vocabulary?

He expected you to melt in between his fingers thanks to his breathy voice and the sweet cologne on his skin, but what he never guessed was you turning around with flushed cheeks and a piercing glare that told him to keep his hands by himself, not hopping onto the flirt train.

“Okay, listen, Jungkook”, you emphasized his name, clicking your tongue with nervous eyes. “I'm here to forget about a fucking miserable week, getting drunk and having fun with my best friend. I don't have time for a fuckboy who wants to lure me in his bed and leave the next morning without hearing from him the days after. And you”, you pressed your index finger on his chest, a sign how much booze you had gulped down that evening, to tap on it with every new word leaving your red lips, “look like the biggest player around. Not to mention the many contacts saved as 'bunny', 'plus one', '#2' or 'booty call'.”

His jaw dropped.

“I don't want to be the next dumb bitch you can save under such a ridiculous nickname.”

Jungkook had to blink several times until he found himself alone, dumbfounded by a tiny human who was clearly too drunk to reject him like this. Every fucking female on this party had thrown eyes on him, but you had the courage to refuse his offer to keep you simple company – up to this point you didn't know his true intentions..at least they were unspoken. Out of the corner of his eyes he witnessed you staggering towards the self-made bar, getting a drink immediately from the cheesy guy checking you out a thousand times harder than he had himself. Crossing his strong arms in front of his chest he observed the situation, your reaction surprising him badly. You turned your head to the stranger, your hair brushed over your shoulder with a playful smile lingering on your face. The guy lay his hand on your upper arm, his grin making Jungkook sick to the stomach as to why he let his head roll once, walking your way with an idea. If he couldn't have you no one would, at least not tonight.

“You got a drink already, y/n? Thanks dude, but you can fuck off now, she's mine”, Jungkook leaned down to brush his lips over your burning cheek, his arm wrapped over your shoulder to demonstrate the guy you were taken. Which you weren't, not by him though.

Your eyes widened in shock realising what Jungkook had done. Opening your mouth the guy turned on his heel, his shoulders shrugging, but you were the one freezing under his touch, a smug grin plastered on Jungkook's pink lips.

“Are you crazy?”, you exploded right then, shoving off his arm with fire lighting your shining pupils. “Why are you doing that?”

“You deserve better than that”, a knowing smile turned his edges up. He knew pretty well who was the best catch for the night.

“I don't get why you're still here. I told you that I don't want to be put down with a shitty name and I really don't want to spend the night.” Turning around you tried to escape from him, but he wouldn't let you.

“Just a drink?”, he tilted his dark thatch your way, the expression on your face telling him you crumbled under his warm hand. Slowly. Maybe it was to satisfy him, but you did agree, be it the one reason or another although he saw the restraint in your eyes.

Sighing defeated you nodded, walking towards a free spot on the stairs with your drink. Jungkook didn't even care that he had none as he let his toned body fall next to yours, his thigh brushing your bare one. He waited a few seconds if you would talk, but you went silent the moment you sipped on your drink, not giving him a single glance.

Clearing his throat he shifted to the side, his elbow stroking your sensitive body and he could tell that you were clearly nervous. “Tell me about your shitty week, y/n. I can listen if you want..”

“Really? That's what you expected as you tried to hit on me? Listening to my problems?”, you scoffed and then snickered not believing one of his words one bit, your drink now halfway down your throat. The booze seemed to take its toll on you as your mood changed drastically back and forth. “Come on as if you just want to talk.”

Scrunching his nose he was forced to come closer as a couple of people staggered down the stairs, almost crushing his hand. Having an extremely sensitive nose had its perks at some points, just like now as his nostrils were met by a flowery, sweet scent mixed within the bitterness of the alcohol in your cup. Jungkook couldn't help himself, leaning into you, his nose touching your hair. It didn't go unnoticed as your head fell back, your eyes locking with his dark ones, your cheeks tinged a shade darker. His orbs wandered over your gentle face, your eyes milky sparkling from the booze in your body, your small nose covered in faint, light freckles to your red, parted mouth that urged him to think about your lips wrapped around his cock. Ere he knew what he was doing Jungkook pulled you by your shoulders, turning you around to get access to your pretty face, his lips crashing on yours out of the blue. Taking you by surprise he cupped your face with his big hands enjoying the time you didn't push him away, but you did eventually.

Your lips parted too fast for his liking, your lipstick smeared on his pink mouth tasting just as you smelled; like jasmine, painfully sweet within your bitter breath. The young man watched you turning utterly red, your drink drowning while standing up as if you burned yourself.

“I need another drink.”

With those words you disappeared between the rest of the guests, his view following your unsteady steps, seeing how you took a bottle of cheap liquor, gulping one half down ere you turned on your heel to stagger back to where Jungkook still sat, his head tilted.

“Want a sip?”, you offered the bottle, but he denied, waving his large hand a 'no'.

“You should take it slow”, the raven haired man shook his head with a chuckle. “Or are you nervous?”

Instead of responding to his question you nearly fell on his lap before you slid to your previous spot beside him. “I'm not. Never”, you sounded more drunk than before, your voice slurring the words leaving your lips. “But I really want to kiss you again..damn boy go away I don't have time for that..” You didn't even end your sentence before Jungkook took your words as a 'yes' and pressed his wet mouth on yours again, this time for longer, moving on your delicious lips. His fingers danced their way over your back to you neck to pull you completely into the kiss. He wouldn't waste another useless second with bickering, showing you what he wanted with his tongue grazing your lower lip, asking to let him in which you did. He was slightly surprised by the way how you played with his tongue magically turning him on so bad that his pants felt too tight around his member. That was the reason his free hand palmed himself, the other leaving your neck to feel the curves down your body until he found himself on your ass.

“You're too hasty”, you mumbled through the constant clashing of teeth and the irresistible touch of your lips pressed against his.

But Jungkook didn't care what you said as he stood up, pulling you with him. “Either you come with me or leave. Decide now, y/n, or I decide for you.”

The tall man knew your answer, but waited for five seconds until you gave him the one he expected. You stepped closer, your fingers dancing on his clothed dick, squeezing it once before you lasciviously swung your hips up the stairs – at least you tried, your legs wobbling like crazy. Jungkook held you by your waist, caressing your ass and opened the first fuckable room the floor had to offer to push you inside. Your legs met the bed, your body falling straight down the mattress as he hovered over you with his strong arms crossed in front of his chest. What a clumsy girl. Jungkook couldn't repress a deep chuckle as he watched you propping yourself on your elbows with a shy smirk.

“Wanna stare at me or fuck? I changed my mind you lucky boy, so better start now”, your voice let out the words kind of slurry, your eyes wavering down his body, your tongue licking a  wet path over your lips. “I'm already wet just by looking at you, boy.”

Jungkook had the nastiest grin on his face, a lopsided deep one with his dark eyes craving for your body as you casually spread your legs in that damn short dress, revealing – to his surprise – light blue underwear. He almost laughed out loud as the sight of your cute undies. A foul mouth with those panties?

“Strip”, was all he said, his head tilted, the black bangs of his nearly covering his eyes.

The tall guy witnessed you biting your bottom lip, the move turning him on thanks to your way too pretty face. And to his member's relieve you did as told, slowly getting off of the bed to peal yourself way too slow out of your tight dress throwing it to the ground revealing flawless, beautiful skin under those way too innocent underwear.

Jungkook's face was glowing as you even got rid off the panties and bra, sitting back down with an inviting gesture. He didn't need to be told twice, his strong arms holding him up as he hovered dangerously over your naked body, his lips attached to your warm skin underneath your breasts.

“Ngh.”

The faint, aroused sound falling from your lips made Jungkook smirk, his teeth grazing your skin ere he bit down violently, leaving a red mark. “You better learn to talk, kitten. What do you want?” His fingers traced over your stomach, grabbing your delicate flesh with a growl. The jeans started to hurt.

“Touch me”, your tipsy voice told him, slurring the words but your hands pushed his own down towards your heat where he circled his thumb over your pussy lips.

“Here?”

A frantic nod was your response while Jungkook's hand disappeared between your hot legs, his mouth coming down to meet yours. Your tongue in his mouth, your juices on his fingers and his cock rubbing hardly against his pants drove him nuts whereas he separated from your tasty lips to scan your body again. Nice, solid and female. Curves and soft skin. Perfection.

The guy's mouth watered at your sight, his jeans unbuttoned with one hand, the other pleasuring you with as much time as he wanted, your mewls getting louder by the second.

“And here I thought you're a difficult target”, his pink lips brushed over yours. “So easy..”

You weren't able to talk as his tongue pushed through your teeth, his fingers holding momentum to hit the spot he previously had marked. Again. And again until your warm skin was burning from his palm. Your moans were deafening in his ears, a mixture of hisses and high pitched cries whenever his digits left another beaming spot. And it was then that he had enough of teasing you, his growl loud enough for you to look up, his bangs falling over his eyes. In one swift go he reached for his shirt, throwing it next to your dress ere he smirked at you smugly, as if he owned the world. Or you.

Leaning down, Jungkook's face was close to your own, his dark pupils drawing the lines of your flushed face. “Beg for me, my sweet baby..”

The sex was mind blowing as Jungkook fell off of you beside your panting, sweating, small frame. His own breaths were laboured after he had pounded into you for eternity, making you squirm with tears in the corners of your eyes and a pleasure contoured face. His muscled arm held him up as he turned to the side to watch you stare at the ceiling with your hair a huge mess and your body twitching. Did he go too hard? Were you okay with all of the alcohol in your body and the exhausting action right now? It wasn't him in the first place, but he had to ask.

“Are you okay, y/n?”, he asked quite worried, his bony fingers reaching out to brush loose strands of hair out of your face to get a better view of you.

“I'm fucking exhausted..b-because it was the best f-fucking sex I ever had”, your light eyes lingered on him, wandering down his toned, athletic body and back up, a sparkle in them.

Jungkook's heart stopped, his lips being chewed on as he sat up to grab the blanket, throwing it on your shivering body. “I'll get your friend. Wait here.”

He felt your hand on his arm as he stood up, your voice faintly without actually hearing a thing, but he didn't really care after he got what he wanted. Sex. Nothing more. The aftermath of your and his highs drifting away with every passing second, his clothes already at their places. But he couldn't help himself as he opened the door of the stranger's bedroom, looking back to see you rolling into a small ball, your body not necessarily covered by the blanket, but what happened now after you two had your fun was none of his business. The handsome would get your friend and leave this shit of a party..

It was like the scene out of a horror movie after you woke up with a major hangover the day of your random hookup after you got dumbed by your crush that night. But that was three weeks ago and the sight you had woken up to still gave you chills.

You lay naked and clearly still drunk in a stranger's bed, your best friend next to you with a guy you had never seen – Nicole had reassured you that she and her lover didn't do you that night, a stranger did, so she said. He was damn freaking hella hot, so her words as you asked her, your mind like a black hole. You remembered like..nothing really. But that wasn't all that morning as you crawled out of the bed, your limbs feeling as if they'd fall off any second, your headache a ticking bomb ready to explode while you collected your dress and escaped out of the room. But it seemed as if you weren't the only three people in there. Of course, out of thousands of people visiting your university, the guy you had confessed to last night lay on the ground with two, yes two, girls in his arms. Naked.

It got worse as you got home, the electricity not working, so a hot shower or bath was cancelled that day. Fucking cheap apartment. To top the shit you did Nicole called you, asking if you wanted to get to Hoseok's, the boy you had confessed to, he invited her over that day. And it didn't even surprise you as she told you the next day that he fucked her.

No, don't get it wrong, you told her yesterday that it was over after he had rejected you, but you still felt a tinge in your heart at her words. And by god you swore to never drown your problems in drinks again, your head hurting even now as you thought about the shit you did and she did, and he did that night. Even the guy you had slept with you totally forgot as Nicole rushed up to her seat in the room you sat in, waiting to get another boring lecture of the lamest professors the university had to offer. Her caramel colored eyes sparkled as she fell into her seat, her grin showing you how excited she was, again.

“Girl.”

The professor made his appearance, his thick glasses falling from his nose. But they got caught by a stranger you had never seen walking the halls of your uni. He was followed by no one other than Park Jimin, crush of every female student and teacher, a charming sunshine and head boy of the university. His blonde hair was brushed out of his face as he waved towards you, one of his best friends.

“..are you even listening to me?”, Nicole slapped your arm. “I told you something very important, y/n. You...”

“Hey, y/n. Nicole”, Jimin walked up to your seats, his face glowing as he greeted you, his hands playing with your desk's edge. You almost laughed out loud at the way his voice changed from cheerful to gloomy while greeting you and your best friend, his eyes never daring to look at the girl beside you although she practically sat on your lap by now. “I wanted to introduce our new student and my best friend. He's-”

Jimin looked over his shoulder, but it seemed that the unfamiliar looking guy with the black thatch still talked to your professor, his back turned your way.

“Well, he seems to be distracted. I introduce you after class though”, the blonde sunshine winked at you which made you snicker whereas he slandered down the stairs to the teacher's desk where he wrapped his arm over the new guy's shoulders who was significantly broader than your friend. And taller. But you didn't care, your almost sister poking your upper arm with her pen.

“The hell, Nici! Stop that”, you bluffed at her with your eyebrows furrowed. “You piss me off.”

With that you buried your face in your textbook, your phone in your hands to scroll through your social media feed.

Nicole was persistent. “But girl, listen to-”

“Class is starting. Everyone to their seats”, the professor announced, his big tummy rubbing. “So, uhm..we have a new student in this private class. His name is..”

“Jeon Jungkook. Nice to meet you”, a low, polite voice filled the room and it was the first time you looked up. Jeon Jungkook was hot. You had to admit that he stole every girl's stares, but in comparison to his friendly, seemingly nice voice did he look like a total fucker. Ripped jeans, a light beige and brown striped buttoned shirt and a red jacket to black boots and raven hair. His skin was flawless and his dark eyes meeting yours for a split second. Well, that was your first expression of the new guy as he casually walked passed the first rows to get to an empty seat next to Jimin's. The shining boy already awaited his friend, a bright smile on his face as he looked to the side, his profile showing.

With a shrug of your shoulders you tried to follow the words of the prof down the rows, but you couldn't concentrate on the lame lecture, your attention on the small book you had brought with you for the free time you had this afternoon before the next class. It was an interesting story and after a short while the bell signalled the ending of the class and you packed your things to finally get out of the dusty hell. Nicole followed right behind you and behind her Jimin and the new boy.

“Y/n, for fuck's sake”, Nicole hissed in your ear, her hand enclosed on your arm. “Listen to me once, okay?”

Rolling your eyes – yes, you were kind of angry, but wouldn't show it to her directly though – you stopped, Jimin almost running into you, his hands holding your shoulders.

“Dangerous, little girl”, he mocked you with a smile, walking past you. “See you after the break.”

“Sure thing. Wanna learn together this weekend?”, you shouted back, but he was gone with his friend faster than you imagined. “Guess, that's a no”, you mumbled.

“Fuck”, Nici next to you made wide eyes as she looked at her watch. “I have no more than twenty minutes to get to my part time job!”, she threw you a glance and one back the corridor. “You better shut yourself in the library you book worm. I'll find you in two hours!”

Kissing your cheek she was gone as well. What an energetic bitch, you thought. Nicole was faster than the wind if she had to go to 'work'. Getting money for some naked cleaning, but at least she earned some more than you with your job as a waitress on the weekend and a small amount your parents sent to you regularly.

Sighing you walked to the library you got used to love through the two semester you already studied far away from home. It was like a shelter you spent most of your free time in hence you sneakily brought some snacks and greeted the librarian with a short wave. She already knew you too well. Your usual spot by the huge windows where the sunset was the prettiest and the view on the campus pretty nice was free, as always. Not too many students got lost in here if they had two hours free time as to why you threw your bag on one of the four padded chairs and your jacket over the rest. Time went by too fast as you day dreamed the pictures you sucked in while leaning back against your chair with wide eyes, the story getting to you as a shadow took away the autumn's sun that shone delicately through the glassy windows. Annoyed who dared to disturb you, you looked up. The new guy stood in front of you, his arms folded on the other's chair's rest, a faint smile painting his lips.

“I thought you'd never see me if I didn't take away your light”, his deep melodic voice let out a chuckle. His black bangs fell into his forehead as he shifted his head, studying your face as you only cocked up an eyebrow. “I'm Jungkook by the way.”

“I know who you are”, you simply said with a nod, your attention getting back to the lines of the booklet in your hands. You had enough of fuckboys after you had a crush on Hoseok who better hooked up then getting to know you. Yes, your pride was hurt and after the one night stand with that stranger you swore to distance yourself from those type of guys. And the way Jeon Jungkook moved and grinned you just knew what kind of guy he was. Fuckboy.

Ignoring him didn't work because the tall guy made the chair screech over the floor, turning it around so he could rest his arms on the rest while his legs were spread. You'd lie if you'd say you didn't take a quick glance down his crotch. But that was all.

“And you are?”, Jungkook whipped back and forth, the chair making annoying noises clack clack clack whenever it landed back on the ground. Sighing loudly you closed your book, having enough of it.

“Ignoring you. Can't you see I'm reading? Ever heard something like personal space?”, you asked, shifting your head the way he did. “Go back to Jimin and let me read in peace.”

“Not happening”, he answered with a superior smile at your expressions falling from your face. “As I'm the new guy, don't you think you should take responsibility and show me around a bit?”

Scrunching your brows you shook you head. “Boy, you're too persistent. If you want a guide over the campus go and ask your friend.”

In the corner of your eyes you saw that Jimin searched a book in a nearby alley.

“See, there he is-”

“Y/n, right? You better remember my face from now on”, the tall young man interrupted you and chuckled evilly before he stood up to turn the chair, sitting back down with his bag thrown on the table. “You mind me learning a bit? I have to catch up on the stuff you already went through while I wait for Jimin.”

“Do as you like”, you shrugged your shoulders while responding, not caring if he was across from you as long as he closed his mouth. You didn't understand his appearance right now anyway. But guys could be strange, that was for sure.

Jeon Jungkook was silent, but you still couldn't concentrate back on your book as he took off his red jeans jacket, showing off his perfectly fit shirt, rolling it up ere he took out round, big glasses, putting them on while fishing for his utensils. He gnawed on one of his pens with his white row of teeth over the smaller upper lip of his – that's what you witnessed over the small distance at least.

“What?”

Perplexed you looked up into his eyes which bored into yours under his long, black eyelashes, his head still tilted over his book and paper. They were almost black, his pupils, but in no time averted from yours to get back to learning.

“N-nothing”, you mumbled, furrowing your brows. Something wouldn't let you go. There was something odd about him, like you knew him. Maybe he was a regular at the bar you worked at on the weekends? Might be. “Do we know each other?”, you blurted out all of the sudden, your book shut again. “No offense, but I think I saw you some time. Are you a customer at 'Max's saloon'?”

The really attractive young man arched his brows up as he leaned back against the rest of the chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “Max's what? Never heard of that.”

“I'm sorry then”, you bit your inner cheek for asking him in the first place. “You can forget that I asked you”, you said while stroking your hair back.

Jungkook grinned lopsided, his dark eyes laced with amusement. “It's fine. You seem familiar too, to be honest. I just can't decide where from, huh.” A deep chuckle followed.

“I finally got what I was looking for!”, Jimin's soft voice reached your ears from behind you before you saw him. “Oh, hey, y/n. I'm sorry for not introducing you two earlier. That's Jungkook, but you might already know”, he smiled at you.

“Yeah”, you said with a grin his way. “So how about learning this weekend. As the class's genius you have to help me out.”

Jungkook as well as Jimin exchanged glances and you saw your friend's apologising emotion. “We planned to throw a welcoming party for Jungkook. You are invited as well, you know, right?”

Groaning your head fell back. “Are you for real, Jimin? You know I cancelled all parties the next months and I need your genius brain for some problems.”

“We could help you the day after the party though, right Kookie? He'll knock you off of your feet.”

The other guy who seemed to listen to your conversation nodded. “But why aren't you coming, y/n?” Okay, the last comment was ignored.

Ere you could answer your blonde sunshine did. “She was so drunk she fucked a random guy at the last party my mate threw and now she wants..ouch.”

You hit him. Hard. “Oh stop it, will you?”

Both guys snickered as your cheeks got pink.

“Acting reserved and cold while you're actually such a girl, huh?”, Jungkook teased you, his glasses now laying on the table in front of him. “What a moody kitten.”

Your stomach turned at the word kitten, a strange feeling evolving inside you. It sounded too strange falling from the young man's pink lips that you felt a shudder running down your spine.

“I'm in then, but shut up about that incident. I'm glad I can't remember a thing!”, you stood up. “Now excuse me, I have to go.”

Rushing out you felt how your cheeks burned at the words of your friend in front of the handsome guy who started to get on your nerves although you just met him.

Usually loud music had a calming impact on you, but as you sat there with your half emptied drink you sipped on for hours afraid to get drunk you felt tensed. Sitting there with Nici smashing some guy upstairs while being in the same house you made a mistake in the last time you visited. Another worry was meeting Hoseok in here. You really wanted to avoid him further although you knew he wouldn't treat you any different than usual. With alerting eyes you scanned the room again, locking with Jimin's ones, his bright smile magically turning your edges up, too. You gestured for him to join you, but right as you tapped on the free spot beside you, you saw someone else appearing behind him. Jungkook. Your hand stopped midway, hastily back in your lap.

His oculars darted your way and you just had to respond with a stare as well. Black jeans, black boots, a grey shirt with a simple phrase and more jewellery than you had thought he would wear on his wrist and ears. It seemed like a habit of his to tilt his head and shoot you a lopsided grin over the many people crowding the living room. A slight nod from yours and you got off of your seat to fill your cup. Yes, you didn't want to, but you felt like it right now.

Just as you guessed you got company the moment you dropped the liqiour back on the self made bar.

“Where's your friend, Nicole, right? She left you alone again?”, Jungkook's voice was as low as always as he leaned on the bar.

“Again?”, you cocked your brows up. “But yeah, she's with some guy. I'm all alone.”

“You aren't”, he chuckled. What was so funny? He always seemed to find amusement in your conversations. “I'm here, so wanna drink on my welcoming party?”

Even if you wanted you couldn't deny that you enjoyed his presence a tiny bit, your glass clinking with his. “On your welcoming party then.”

His smile got cheekier as you gulped down the burning fluids. With a sudden shiver you threw the red cup in the bin behind the counter. One was enough.

The handsome leaned in to you, his voice droning out the loud music around you. “We should talk about something, y/n.”

Confusion washed over you at his low words that held a lot more meaning than you imagined. “About what?”

The guy smugly smirked at you, leaning even closer with his pretty face, his brown eyes reflecting the changing lights behind your back. “How about you say my name once.”

A little grin spread out on your lips. What was with him? Did the guy drink too much? Why would you say his name? But you did anyway, playing his games. “Jungkook.”

“How does it feel?”

“Your name?” Either you were dumb or he, but you really didn't get the point in this.

A nod and his bangs bounced up.

“You're a weird one, Jeon”, you decided to go with his last name instead, teasing him as he started it with you.

The same smug smirk curved his pink lips as he leaned closer to you, a new thing catching your eye. “Oh, what a cute mole!”, your voice was higher than you wanted, but it slipped out anyway.

Taken aback the tall guy laughed quietly, his hand scratching his neck. “How about we talk somewhere more private? We have a lot to catch up to.”

“I don't really get what you mean, but sure. Ten minutes should be enough to get you off of me, Jeon”, you grinned cheekily ere you spun around to go through the people filled room towards the terrace where no one really stayed as it was kinda cold that night. “Shit, it's too cold”, you expected it to be chilly, but the air was more frosty than you thought, trying to push through Jungkook and the door, but his hand held you up.

His stare told you to better stay outside and his deep voice confirmed your assumptions. “Look at me, y/n. No idea where you've seen me?”

Swallowing down a bad feeling you shook your head without looking up, his fingers a solid grip around your upper arm, the atmosphere turning one-eighty. Even if you'd know him, you wouldn't tell him from where because the answer and realisation would hit you way too hard. That's why you closed the huge doors in your head to your lost memories.

“Try again”, he said while leaning down, his eyes forcing yours to look into his almost black ones. “I fucked you, y/n. A whole damn night and you tell you can't remember? Please.”

The black hole that was most certainly the night you couldn't remember spit out pictures, but before you could catch one they were gone.

“What?!”, you backed away, smacking his hand off of your skin. “As if, boy, you dream too much.”

Squeezing yourself into the living room again you where stopped a second time, Jeon turning you to face him.

“You can't deny it, y/n. I see it in your face. You remember me, don't you? How I got to see and touch every inch of your naked body”, he leaned closer, your breath hitching already. “Still don't believe me?”

It wasn't more than a simple nod from you, still denying. But what you didn't expect was his hand laying flat on your upper stomach, his fingertips scratching over something you had desperately tried to forget even more. Marks. Red, swollen, in the form of teeth from someone you didn't even know covered your skin underneath your tits. And Jeon Jungkook fucking knew that fact. Without looking back you shifted to the side to rush towards the house's front door hearing a chuckle right behind you. To have slept with him wouldn't get in your brain. Never. He lied.

“You can run, y/n, but I'm faster.”

Out of the house the cold air hit your burning cheeks. The more you tried to deny the fact that he was the hot stranger you hooked up with the more you blushed and felt as if your head spun. Jungkook was a flirty guy the whole week, always near the niche you sat in in the library, learning with Jimin while you caught him sneaking glances your way that spoke a thousand words. And now the cat was out of the bag. You could curse yourself for first not remembering a fucking thing and second to hook up with a stranger in the first place. At least he was no random fuck anymore as he visited the same university and was Jimin's friend, but you felt ashamed thinking about Jungkook right now. He knew it and didn't say a single word to you although he had to notice you didn't remember him or the sex in general. That offended you while you wrapped your light jeans jacket tighter against the cold air, your mind a mess. It was time to go home. Fast.

Right as you circled the house to get to the main road that lead to a cab service you heard Nicole.

Your blood froze at the shrill cry she let out behind Jimin's home and you ran faster than the devil to get to wherever she was.

“Let go of..me”, she cried out again as the guy you had seen her leave with pressed her against the fence, his two friends by his side to hold Nicole up.

“I told you not to play fucking games with me, bitch!”, the guy raged, his face cast in shadows. “At first you toyed with my brother's heart, fucked me afterwards and even sent him a fucking picture?”, the last words were shouted loudly and you asked yourself why no one else had heard them but you.

Looking frantically around you to call other people to help you you faced nothing but an empty street and the loud music that droned out of the house. Fuck it. Just as the guy dared to lift his hand you shouted at him to let her go.

“You better stop it or I beat your flat asses, you retards!” Storming towards them you threw your entire weight on the stranger's body, knocking him to the ground in one go ere he could hurt your friend. Adrenalin flooded you whereas you hastily stood up again to avoid being caught between the other two who let go of Nici as they saw their leader or whoever on the ground with mud covering his clothes.

Gesturing to your friend who also got on her knees from fighting against the two boys helping up the other guy you got frustrated at the whole night. “Move your ass, girl. Now!”, you claimed her hand and tried to pull her up to get help from whoever you saw first you were knocked off of your feet, your head hitting the pavement below. It almost felt like the time you woke up from the hangover three weeks ago, but without the thin trickle flowing down your forehead.

“You thought, bitch”, the guy you had pushed back hovered over you, his dirty shoe on your rib. “Wanna help your slutty friend? You know what she did to us?”, he spat and you saw how dangerous he actually was as you saw his face. “I guess we have to teach you some manners. Both of you.”

He turned around to grin at his friends who nodded and you took the opportunity to shove his foot off of you, standing up in a haste and punching the guy in the face as he looked at what you were doing. The surprise effect hit him hard, your knuckles plopping open and you nearly cried out, but it was worth, your legs wobbling as you grabbed Nicole's wrist again to leave, but you were stopped by a menacing grip in your hair. Right as he pulled you back you heard the faint voice of the guy you really didn't want to see calling out to you.

“Y/n?”

“Here-”

Thrown to the ground your voice stuck in your throat, but it was enough for Jungkook to hear your scream, his silhouette contrasting to the changing lights of the party in his back. Nici landed next to you, her arms bruised but face and everything else still okay as far as you could see. In the corner of your eyes you saw the two muscle pigs jumping over the fence leaving their friend alone with the three of you as they saw that they got caught.

“Hands off or I rip your head off”, Jungkook growled, his tall body crossing paths with the guy who tried to get out of the way as he saw him approaching, too.

“She and her slut friend dared to play with us”, the leader mocked with a glance your way. “Next time we won't be so nice anymore, got tha-”

“Fuck off”, Jeon's deep voice filled the air around you, pushing the slightly shorter man back. “Lay a finger on them again and you're dead meat. Now fuck off or I'll call the fucking police!”

The bully shrugged his shoulders, but his steps were fast as he left the scene not without shooting your friend a threatening glance she didn't fathom.

“I called you for minutes, y/n! You can't run around here alone in the fucking dark! See?”, Jungkook helped Nici up as tears coated her round eyes. “Be grateful that I felt the urge to get you a cab at least..”, he stopped himself as Nicole began to cling onto him, his low vocals shaking from anger.

Sighing a breath of relief as the air you had sucked in previously slowly got out of your lungs you trembled while getting on your feet. Your head darted towards Jungkook's and Nicole's way. “Thank you.”

Nici didn't get out a word whereas just clinging onto his arm, but Jeon's brown orbs landed on you, worry lacing them.

“I'll bring you home.”

Instead of scolding you and Nicole further he silently walked back to the main street he came from, your friend holding tightly. Of course you would have to face his questions, but right now you just wanted to wash up and go to bed to forget everything around you. Especially the shit Nicole did. Again.

He had called Jimin to reassure him that he could handle the both of you before a cab took you to Nicole's apartment. You didn't say a word and neither did he while you two listened to your friend telling the whole story behind the attack. She had toyed with too many guys at once and it escalated somehow. That was all you were able to understand, your body trembling, your head hurting as you leaned it against the cold window of the cab. Closing your eyes to forget the pain you were happy as you finally brought your friend up to her apartment and waited for her to lock her door so nothing further might happen while you were gone to patch up the wound on your forehead that started to pulsate the longer you stood. Silence filled the corridor as Jungkook followed you back to the elevator of the huge apartment complex. But as the metal doors closed he spoke up, unusual softness lacing his voice.

“You live to dangerous. At first you fall asleep the moment we have had sex in a stranger's bed in a boys' house and now you ran through the night playing the heroine for your friend”, he scoffed, his eyes boring a hole in your head, but you still narrowed your gaze. “Call yourself lucky, you bookworm, the punch hit him hard. I never thought you're able to throw a fist at a guy”, a quiet snicker left his lips. “But I guess I have to look after you from now on, huh?”

Daring to shake your head you regretted it immediately as the headache you developed struck you. Holding yourself up at the cold rail of the elevator you felt a hand on your arm. “I'm a big girl, Jeon. I can fight my own war and hold me up. It's just a little scratch anyway.”

As you glanced to the side right in the face of the young man beside you, you saw confusion flashing over his pretty face. “Scratch?”

Nodding you brushed your hair behind your ear to show him the wound you got as your face hit the ground. Jungkook's reaction wasn't as you expected it to be, because the expression on his face told you that it was everything but a little scratch. And as his fingers and foremost his chocolate eyes inspected your injury from up close you held your breath, your cheeks a hue darker from the embarrassment that flooded you. He had fucked you. This thought alone was enough to push him away although he just wanted to help you.

“I-I can handle it when I get home”, you mumbled, turning to the side and praying for the first floor to come faster. “But thanks for worrying. From now on I guess we go separate ways. I really can't stand seeing my one night stand that I regret from the bottom of my heart standing so close, trying to touch my face. Sorry 'bout that.”

The bell rang, signalling the ground floor as to why you pushed through the slightly opened doors to rush a few blocks further to your home. You expected nothing less but Jungkook to call after you, but you didn't look over your shoulder or stop. Even if you didn't turn around you knew that Jungkook still watched you to make sure you were home safely. Major heat formed in your cold cheeks, your back leaning against your closed door as you got home and pushed your shoes from your sore feet.

As his bony fingers touched your face an unimaginable dirty picture lighted up in your head. And with that you were done, knowing exactly what will follow in the future.

Jeon Jungkook would ruin you.

[theclaravoyant]

I love you.

I know.

AN ~ for @unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot, who prompted FitzHunter + “I'm not going to hurt you” and “it’s okay to cry.” I have been wanting to write a FitzHunter 5x05 UA since it aired and these prompts gave me an excuse to knit my pieces together and turn it into something. Thank you!

Est. romantic FitzHunter. Angst/Hurt Comfort. Rated T. Set during 5x05-ish. CW: non-graphic mentions of Framework trauma, and of a nightmare that resembles 5x14 by pure coincidence. Also, brief self head-hitting at one point. If you want to know more about the contents before reading, feel free to ask.

Read on AO3 (~2000wd)

Patron Saint of Lost Things

Fitz woke with a start, his whole body screaming DANGER. RESIST!

He flailed for a weapon, for an arm to twist, for something to shove away from himself and give him a few more milliseconds to get his bearings. He found a body close to his, an arm outstretched, unflinching at his frenzy. Not taking advantage of his confusion to attack.

“Woah, hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” Hunter promised. Fitz stilled, eyeing him, uncomfortably aware of his own fear as his heart pounded so strongly in his chest it shook his body.

“Are you real?”

“Cross my heart,” Hunter swore. As if to prove it, he slowly moved his outstretched hand to Fitz’s grounding shoulder, and squeezed.

The release of tension was palpable, weight slipping off Fitz’s shoulder with a sigh. But with the calming of his fears came a clarity of thought; of memory. It was still a dream, fragmented and all the more haunting for it, but he remembered one thing. Just one thing.

“You okay, mate?” Hunter checked. “Do you remember where we are?”

“Daisy,” Fitz muttered, trying to pinch the vision out from behind his eyelids. “In my dream, I was- or he was, I don’t really know…”

“Who was?”

“The other me. The him.” Fitz waved his hand, frustrated. “The me from the Framework. The Doctor. I had a dream that, that- I was him, or he was me, or something, and I couldn’t stop him. He wanted to hurt Daisy. I couldn’t…”

Danger. Resist. That’s where it had come from. But whose emotions had he been channeling? His own, or Daisy’s? It had been his hands, after all, that had held the scalpel. He himself who had been the danger.

Fitz swallowed a bitter taste as Hunter shuffled their sleeping bags around to sit beside him, and bumped his shoulder encouragingly.

“It’s okay,” he promised. “That wasn’t real.”

“I know, but…”

Fitz bobbed his head noncommittally: not quite a nod, not quite a shake. Hunter felt his blood chill a little. They had come close a few times before but they’d always diverted into something else, something specific. Aida. Jemma. Radcliffe. Now here they were right at the edge of Talking About It, and it was the middle of the night and there was nothing else to do but step over the line.

“Was it a memory, do you think?” Hunter asked, more solemnly this time. “Did you- the other version of you- actually hurt her in that Framework place?”

“No. Daisy told me I didn’t. I just hurt people like her. Like Lincoln.”

Hunter’s eyes widened a little, and Fitz nodded and confirmed:

“Oh, yeah. Killed him, apparently. I don’t remember. He didn’t care enough to remember.”

He tapped his temple, as if it concealed a pocket of his brain called The Doctor that, try though he might, he could not pull out and throw away. He tapped over and over, until he was almost outright hitting, gritting his teeth as tears welled in frustration at his inability to escape. But Hunter caught his hand and eased it down, squeezing and playing with his fingers until Fitz could catch his breath, and then some.

“I think your poor head’s been through enough, mate,” Hunter cajoled. “No need for that, alright? And why are you so obsessed with nutting out this dream?”

“Because of what it means!” Fitz insisted. “I think it means I could hurt her, I would hurt her, if the circumstances were different. It means…”

It means I’m a bad person. The words died on his tongue; he’d been told off enough already for saying them, for thinking them, but still the feeling wouldn’t go away.

Hunter though, rather than scolding him or slathering him with pity, simply laughed. It was only a little laugh, a gentle laugh, but it was refreshing.

“Mate, you and I could be sipping piña coladas on a beach in the Bahamas if the circumstances were different,” he remarked. “You could have retired after that brain injury and moved to that orangutan sanctuary in Sumatra if the circumstances were different. Hell, you could’ve ended up with Jemma ‘stead of me if the bloody circumstances were different enough! That’s the beauty of circumstances. Best we can do is make do with what we’ve got.”

Even though tears of frustration and shame stung them, Fitz snorted and rolled his eyes. If anything was the definition of making do it was them right now, huddled in the middle of a bunch of shelves of weapons and food and god knows what else, with two sleeping bags, a blanket, and a lantern that they had borrowed from the survivalist supplies on those very shelves. They’d escaped a prison, stolen a plane, and were trying to rescue their team with the help of a tiny psychic and… well, not much else. Unless you counted what was basically a drawing of a rock.

At this, despair began to sink into his bones like the cold air.

“’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I’m just… not sure who I am anymore. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Hunter pressed his lips together, and wrapped his arms around Fitz shoulders. The time for lighthearted comfort had passed, and now there was nothing else for it but to infuse Fitz with so much love and understanding and comfort that he cold not possibly deny it. He took a deep breath.

“Fitz. Hey. First of all, you have just come out of six months in solitary, which by itself is capable of driving plenty of good soldiers mad. Give yourself some credit. Second, you came to solitary confinement straight out of living a double life of epically messed up proportions. Your whole life was rewritten. Your dad was an ass. Your mom was dead. Aida was… whatever the hell she was… What I’m saying is, it’s a lot. Anyone in your situation would be doubting themselves. You just can’t let it stop you. We’re going to find Daisy, we’re going to find all of them, and everything’s going to be okay.”

“What if it’s not?”

“It will be,” Hunter promised. “It always is, in the end. If it’s not, it isn’t the end yet. Besides, we found each other again, didn’t we? That’s not nothing.”

Fitz nodded, but nodding was not enough. Tears choked any words that might have found their way to his throat, to speak to the overwhelming relief, the cosmic gratitude, the love he felt for having someone’s arms around him after all this time alone. For those arms to be Hunter’s – it was nothing short of a miracle, and he was wasting it fretting and beating himself up, when all he wanted to do was tell Hunter he loved him. The best approximation of this he could manage for the moment was to press his head into Hunter’s chest with such sudden overwhelming force it knocked the breath from him for a second. Then, gently, Hunter cradled his head and began to stroke his hair.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay to cry. I’ve got you. Whatever you need.”

For a long while, they sat in near-silence, each other’s only sanctuary in the darkness and the cold. Fitz sniffled, sobbed and wept in alternate rounds, as all the fear and doubt and shame and pain crashed down around him, finally safe in Hunter’s arms. Hunter stroked his hair and his back, murmuring condolences, acknowledgement and reassurances when they were called upon, but otherwise silent. Waiting for Fitz to traverse the emotional depths of something he could probably never understand, even if he knew a lot more than he did right now. Waiting, and turning over in his head, an idea.

He’d first had the idea a long time ago; back when he’d met this shaky, disoriented boy, struggling to find his way to becoming the man he still wanted to be, amidst this violent and confusing new world. When they’d been separated, he’d given it up, thinking he’d never see Fitz again and then the magazines came, and with them humour, and with them hope.

He’d had the idea again when they’d first escaped, adrenalin thrumming through his veins as they whipped a stolen car down the road as fast as it would go. But with Fitz holding onto the door for dear life and looking desperately close to losing the sludge that place likely called a lunch, the moment had fleeted and passed.

Now it had reared its head a third time, and that more than anything told Hunter he was serious. That, and a feeling in his bones that he could not quite describe: a feeling of certainty and uncertainty both at once, as if their time was like sand in an hourglass, quietly slipping away, and there was no way of knowing how much there was left. It was a strange, entrancing and powerful feeling, and Hunter was not sure how much he should trust it, but by the time Fitz had fallen silent again he had made up his mind.

“Hey,” he interrupted quietly, easing Fitz back to being an arm’s length away. “Hey, look here, I want to give you something.”

Fitz wiped his eyes and watched Hunter’s hands, as he lifted a long, thin, leather cord from around his neck. On the end was a silver pendant about the size of a dime, engraved with the figure of a man holding in his arms a young child, a book, and a lily. When Hunter held it out Fitz took it, and ran his finger over the symbols. They meant something familiar, but he could not recall what, and he frowned.

“Hartley gave this to me, ‘long time ago,” Hunter explained. “D’you remember Hartley?”

Fitz nodded, though he didn’t remember much of her. He had only ever really known her as one of Hunter’s friends, who had died.

“It’s St Anthony,” Hunter continued.

“Patron Saint of lost things,” Fitz recalled. “I remember. My mum loves this guy.”

A smile touched his lips, and he ran his finger over the pendant again. With his free hand, he wiped away a fresh round of tears. The thought of his mother, safe at home in the real world, made his heart feel warm and he leaned into Hunter again to share the feeling; his back to Hunter’s chest this time, so that they could both appreciate the pendant as Hunter continued to tell his story.

“I want you to have it,” he said.

“Oh, no,” Fitz protested. “I couldn’t take-“

Hunter folded Fitz’s hand closed around it.

“Please?” he said. “It’ll help. I hope. To find the team, to find yourself… To keep you safe. Okay? I want you to have it.”

“Okay,” Fitz agreed. Hunter looped the strap over his neck, but he held the pendant in a loose fist, close to his chest, anyway.

After a moment’s silence, Hunter kissed his cheek, and shuffled their sleeping bags around again. They eased back down to lying, but they didn’t bother to separate this time. Hunter kept his arms around Fitz; one with their fingers entwined, the other simply embracing him, while Fitz’s free hand still held the pendant. Hunter had his nose to the back of Fitz’s neck, so close he was all but kissing his shoulder, and their legs knotted round each other so they were just about as close as they could be. Hourglass or no hourglass, they were determined to cherish every second they had left.

[sarcasticshutter]

Man, a lot happens in a year: Number 2020

Started these yearly reviews back when I was in high school lol, and def haven’t done it every year (or if I did they’re not all on tumblr. Who knows, cause I feel like I’ve done more than I’ve found here) but I’d like to reflect on 2020 because wow. It obviously feels to everyone like a lost year where all you did was sit around at home and mourn all the normal things and the plans and the big life goals that have been fully stopped in their tracks thanks to a little (ongoing) global pandemic. 

Hello to future me, hope things are well. Shit sure is strange and tenuous at the moment lol. But it’ll all get unstuck again and the world will start turning soon enough. You know that. Anyway from where I’m sitting right now, it’s kind of hard to remember anything that’s happened this year. It feels like I’ve blinked and a year has been omitted from my life, aside from the first three months of 2020 where I was still very much out and rolling on my life-momentum and doing exciting things. So I just want to convince myself that things *have* happened this year, and actually they haven’t been so bad, and to reflect on life going on despite the odd flavor permeating everything this year. I’m glad that’s all I have to complain about because I guess feeling stuck isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a person. I digress. Here’s the highlights I’ve meandered through this year with my eyes closed apparently lol. Please enjoy them with me as I remember them again:

Travelled to Belize, Mexico, Jamaica, Haiti, the Cayman Islands, St Thomas (and probably more) Caribbean islands on the final months of my ship contract

Got to live through the distinctly odd and certainly once in a lifetime experience of being stranded on a cruise ship as the world shut all of its borders in March to reduce transmission of a global pandemic. Feels surreal to think about all the stuff I was seeing as it happened and how that’s probably a very small percentage of people on this planet who were...forgive me...in that boat at that moment in our collective history. So eerie, but with the calm of knowing you don’t know how bad it actually is out there. The self awareness that this is bigger than you can comprehend yet. Eye of the storm type feeling

St Patricks day party on that cruise ship when the rest of the world had ground to a halt and we all were stranded out there isolating as one sealed off covid pod of crewmembers, because if one of us on the ship had it we were all gonna have it. So no use distancing among us at that point. We had no guests left on board and had a huge end of the world party on the pool deck with full use of the guest pools and bars lol

Came home and life slowed waaaay down in march/april. Hiked with mom and dad, saw a lot more of the cats, had a wholly uneventful zoom birthday in early April for my 26th. A weird birthday for what felt like a strange age for me. 26 just fit weird as a number, I’m much more switched on for 27 for some reason. This one coming up feels more right somehow

Spent time in the pool, and doing a lot of yoga which has carried me through this whole year as a constant mellower of things for me mentally. A repeated exercise in re-grounding

Visited Alex in Flagstaff! Got to see meteor crater and spent a cute weekend in a little air bnb with my family, and did some aspen-y hiking as well

Bought my first car with my own money outright, that I’d been saving for the whole time I was in NYC. Been learning to be comfortable driving since I’ve never felt that way in my life lol, but I do think I’m less stressed behind the wheel now than I’ve ever been. Has been so nice to finally be combing through that anxiety. Finally was ready for it I guess

Started a (very long distance) relationship with a friend from the ship. He’s been a huge relief as far as someone to lean on through this year and a great sounding board for frustrations/lifeline to some feeling of sanity a good number of times. Shit is weird but taking this step still feels right, so we’ll see where tf this relationship is going haha

Moved to Tucson with a bff from college. A gigantic help for my sanity as far as getting a feeling of self reliance back and feeling like I have my own space. Soso grateful to be able to be sharing her home with her

Got a part time job so I could not feel so helplessly tied to the clusterfuck that has been unemployment insurance this year. Still have a lot to sort out with that... Glad to be earning my own cash, and glad that the weird little ragtag group of coworkers I’ve found myself with are actually a group of good hearts 

Pumpkin carving and a night hike up in Phoenix with my family for Halloween. And made sure I dropped off my early voting ballot to see that fucker out of office lol

Sweet god, Biden’s horrendously way too close presidential win. Can you imagine the other outcome... This is maybe the biggest relief of 2020 that he didn’t scrape out a second term

Outdoor attempt at a covid safe thanksgiving with my parents and my grandparents on my moms side in Phoenix

Finally had the balls to schedule a scary doctors appointment I’d been using covid to avoid going to. Got back the clean health news I had been anxious I wouldn’t receive. A huge weight off my chest that had been sitting there in the back of my thoughts since last year

Outdoor attempt at a covid safe christmas at my dads’ parents’ house in Sun City, and some cinnamon rolls and peanut butter ball making with my parents. Drove through a huge neighborhood of christmas lights and did a small mom and dad christmas gift opening on christmas eve night

Virtual new years game nights with SASH and the Joneses. Didn’t see a single firework or leave the house (heard em though) and felt surrounded by my closest friends safely even without seeing them in person

None of this stuff is all that flashy and a lot of the normal holidays or events, or even everyday things, were so much more low key and quiet this year. But it was still nice to at least have found a way to celebrate in a stripped down, sort of back to basics way. Glad to have been able to see my family so much more this year. Glad to have had countless meaningful text conversations with my friends who have had the same issues as me as far as having our entire industry unable to function for the last 9 months with no end in sight. The candidness of speaking about the difficulties everyone has had this year, but specifically sharing that weight of the arts being particularly suffocated, and having all of our young career momentums snuffed out for no reason of our own, has been soothing to commiserate about. It’s been a mentally taxing year in the hardest to describe way. But I’m glad that as hard as it is to find kind words for this year, at least it’s just boring and stuck and frustrated that are the things I’m feeling. Because I’ve managed not to lose anyone close to me, or have anyone dealing with any serious illnesses at the moment. 

(I believe) I’ve worked through all of the absolute bullshit I had on my plate in 2019. This year has been easier for me than last, as nuts as that sounds with every thing going on in 2020. I’m out of a suffocating relationship that had become very wrong for me.  Left the city that was killing me to remain stuck in. Had the courage to take this cruise job that I’d been curious about since graduation. Got to travel the world and meet amazing people I otherwise would have never known.  Met a new guy I’ve felt so much more effortlessly in sync with than I ever did in the last relationship. And that’s in an LDR lol, I can’t believe how comfortable that’s been given the ludicrous circumstances of seeing a guy from a different continent, 8 time zones away, during a global pandemic where our borders are shut to foreign visitors and we still at this moment don’t know when they’ll reopen. 

This year I’m just coasting in a house with my friend. Going to work at an easy job that covers my bills. Having the health and freedom to drive *my* car two hours to see my family way more often than I’ve seen them in the past four years. I’m feeling a lot more appreciative of my relationship with my brother, my parents, my grandparents. I’m feeling better about maybe returning to live where I’m from instead of seeing it with a chip on my shoulder. So in a lot of ways 2020 has been less of an emotional mindfuck for me than 2019 was. Or it’s at least been the landing pad to detangle everything from 2019.  I’ve been learning that maybe gathering a bit closer to a support system isn’t a weakness, but a comfort instead.

So this isn’t the tour de force bucket list I’ve grown accustomed to watching myself tackle in each year since undergrad. It’s a retracting of arms, and a regrouping to center. Being forced into looking inward at small details I hadn’t been interested in seeing lately. May be nice just to collect my feet underneath me again and take in all this chaotic crash course learning I’ve been doing the last few years before stepping back out of the plane. Time will tell if 2021 is another time of building and reflection, or a time to start taking a few shaky steps back out into whatever comes next.

What a year.

[thislifeisyours-ifyouwantit]

Introduction; 5/3/20

Ah fuck, where do I start with all of this…

I guess this would be a good way to journal, as seeing as I’m a particularly lengthy writer, and an articulate one at that. Writing by hand used to be my preferred method, but with all the things going on and our (my) world changing so much, I don’t have the time to sit down and properly write by hand. So this is what I’m going to do instead.

I’m overwhelmed and got too much on my mind, so I found that maybe making a journaling blog might help.

I’m 23 and I’ve seen too much evil in this world, so it now exists inside of me. That’s what I’m calling it now- evil- all this pent-up rage that’s a part of my healing process with the CPTSD and PTSD.

It originally started to crop up when I worked out, and it has begun to grow out of hand the past couple of months. Psychiatrists past and present have told me it’s normal to feel vicious and enraged towards your abusers, even healthy and normal as it’s a sign of healing… But man, is this normal?

I even gave it a face. It’s name is Venny, short for Vengeance. It walks on two arms, like that Japanese urban legend thing, the Taka-Taka or some shit? Huge grin on its face, and slits for pupils. Jagged teeth. Maybe I’ll upload a picture of Venny. Venny even can transform into a feral three-headed rotting werewolf… Sometimes my rage takes different forms.

All it feels like is a bloodthirsty animal that wants to hurt people. Hurt those that hurt me, and hurt myself, as of lately…

That’s primarily why I started this. My suicidal ideation has gone through the roof since COVID-19 began. I feel nearly out of control. And historically knowing me, I’ve got serious problems with control and the need to be in control.

Things fucking suck right now. And if you really, really know me, things “sucking” for me is quite monumentally different than other people. My bullshit tolerance is so much higher than normal people. I’m so used to being walked all over like a doormat, lmfao. Probably because my PTSD allows me to tolerate such high levels of stress (or not even register I’m stressed in the first place).

It started with getting an ESA. I tried pairing myself up with a couple of dogs. It didn’t work out; I actually got stressed out & had anxiety attacks in response to the dogs. Damn did I want a dog. What kind of sick, twisted system of a body gets stressed to a thing that should be therapeutic? What the fuck.

So then I spiraled quickly after I pitied myself and resented this stupid PTSD brain of mine. I was angry that I was trying to find solutions after my PTSD had been getting out of control the last few months, and I was trying to find a solution, and this didn’t work. Then I considered a cat. But even though I wanted to deny it to myself, my allergies to cats are pretty high. And then… I wanted a ball python, which was pretty lit.

Now, my insecurities about finances have been haunting me since I quit my job due to my PTSD (do you see a running theme here) and I began to worry about what my parents would say if I wanted a snake (newsflash: they suck at supporting me, and they were not too positive in response to a snake when I said I wanted one). I waffled between pets a lot. I think I’ll go for a cockatiel or bird, as it might help a lot… I love birds, have for two years now, might as well jumpstart.

Then, the whole “breathing issues and can’t work out” issue got to me. Gaining weight has been really fucking getting to me. I want to spite kill myself over it. I’ve been setting up a routine to eat three times a day instead of eating uncontrollably, and I walked every day, but I still grew even more depressed.

I think the thing that’s driving me most nuts is NOT HAVING ANYTHING TO DO AT ALL. FUUUUUCK. I’m going nuts with nothing productive to do, save for my classes. I want to work, but then again- disabilities, I’m immunocompromised, harassed out of my jobs… good shit you know.

And my roommate has been driving me up a fucking wall. She’s an extrovert, I’m an introvert. She’s also obviously neurotypical as all Hell, and very needy for contact with people. Couple weeks back I asserted my boundaries with her, but she still invades my space sometimes and it drives me nuts. She touches me without consent (no not sexually, like hugs and pokes (the fuck?) and stuff like that). Mostly her neurotypicality (is that a word?) is what grates me like cheese. It wakes Venny up… Makes me want to stab the shit out of her or something. I know that’s concerning and evil and stuff, but she’s said shit that annoys the fuck out of me. We were watching a movie where a guy got possessed by an evil ghost and he cut himself pretty bad to spell a message in blood. She knows I’ve self-harmed. She says “dude, how deep do you have to cut yourself to bleed that much?”

I immediately had to tell her “dude, don’t say that stuff- it’s highly triggering.”

Oof, God I cannot stand it.

And to put the icing on the cake: Registrar denied my petition for my credits at my last institution to substitute general education credits at my college now. Had a breakdown in my car. So I’m at a setback for graduation by at least a quarter. Which doesn’t seem much, but when you’re a disabled, pissed off 5th year college student like me, so close to graduating, who was going to graduate in the summer but now CAN’T because you got set back by TWO FUCKING CREDITS… Makes you want to run your mid-sized vehicle into the closest godforsaken lake.

So basically: I’m stuck indoors, with a huge ESA problem, I can’t use my #1 coping mechanism which is working out, my graduation plans got fucked up, and I want to hurt myself and everyone around me. Greaaaaat.

I mean, on the plus side I’ve got my boyfriend Max, who is a GODSEND, who is so patient and sweet with me. I’m currently at this place as I type this and set up this blog. And I may have settled on a bird finally; finally got back to my professors after getting the fuck out of town. We shall see.

I don’t know what to do with myself, or what to do to cope better. Whenever I’m alone, I fixate on cutting again. I’ve been so, so many years clean, like 5 years clean. I want to kill myself so bad when I’m alone. I just wish I had the gym back.

~*~

[nefarioussdotcom-blog]

We're all about a healthy, happy lifestyle.  While you may be seeing a dietitian, nutritionist, asking SIRI or your mom's aunts' cousin, it all boils down to what works in your schedule, doesn't cost you an arm and a leg, slips right into your exercise regime (walking, jogging, yoga, pilates, gym, outdoor sports), makes you happy and ensures you live your best life!

Today, I will be speaking with you about FOOD and how it can become your friend and not your foe.

First, let me start by saying...

Speaking from experience, eating is a sensitive topic, because it's about a lot more than just putting something in our mouths and swallowing.

Deep down you know who you are.  You are not defined by what you wear, what you drive, where you live, where you kids goes to school, what board you have when surfing/skating - you are beautiful and we love you just the way you are!  If you remember that, we can help you on this incredible journey.  Not alone, but every step of the way with you!

So let's get to it:  Lesson 1:  The way we consume things has a great deal of impact on not only ourselves, but on the people around us.

What we choose to eat affects our bodies, but it also affects the way we socialize, the things we buy, the way the food market evolves, the way farmers and other food producers produce or obtain food to sell us, and ultimately, our entire World.

A lot of the food we think is healthy, isn’t actually healthy.

And we get so mired in the details of counting calories, obsessing over supplements, and trying to learn the meaning of big words like aspartame, hydrolyzed protein, and hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia (just kidding about that last one!) that we lose track of how our food choices are really impacting us, and those around us.

Obviously, what we eat is critical to our well-being, in more ways than one.

We all know that eating a box of anything-from-the-bakery in one sitting is not healthy, but what IS a truly healthy diet?

The problem is, no one seems to know.

Of course, we know some things, and there are plenty of experts hawking new discoveries everywhere you turn. In this Information Age, particularly, the sheer quantity of food-related information available to us is overwhelming.

In general, we have too much. Too much food choices, too much information, too much confusion.

Of course, for some people with certain sensitivities or physical conditions such as diabetes or celiac disease, understanding the intricacies of their diet is extremely important.  (To note, we are not Doctors.  Just women with a passion to help men and women out there, live their best lives.)

But for the rest of us, we’ve made eating way too complicated.

The problem is, it’s hard to navigate the complicated world of nutrition to figure out what really is best for us. Decades of preserved/processed foods, technology, and advertising has confused us so thoroughly that we often don’t realize how our food is affecting us.

With all that said...

How can we be better at EATING?

1.  LISTEN TO YOUR BODY

Your body is ingenuously designed (in other words: it’s pretty smart). If it doesn’t feel good, it will tell you — if you’re willing to listen.

The main to understand is this:  everyone is different and will respond different to what you give it or do to it.  The main constant is healthy goodness.  No matter who you are, you can't go wrong with straight from the Earth products, without claiming it will cure a medical condition, make you lose weight or miraculously make you Wonder Woman, Super Man or Sky High Gifted Kids.

Let me tell you a story.  7 years ago I represented my beautiful country as a National Beauty Queen on an International stage with nothing, but a Size 2 body.  Not a Size 0 as most people would make you believe!

I was incredibly happy, proud to be up there, seeing my mom in the audience, cheering me on after three months of intense training, a high protein diet and supplements I'd rather not talk about.  I was simply on a high and in the best shape I'd ever been.  That was me at 28.

Fast forward nearly two years and I literally hit a wall - well a truck to be precise, losing my left leg and shattering my right, one December holiday.  It collapsed my World into a dark pit of 'what the hell now'?  

Two months of hospital food, lots of prescribed drugs, IV's, prosthetic's (I lost my left leg and broke my right in a million places), crutches and a wheelchair later, I signed myself out to head home, only to face my mom's TLC cooking with butter and cream and all the hearty goodness you'd come to expect from a caring and loving mother.

This set me back a lot and made me gain just about 10 kilograms/22 pounds.  

Seven years later, I'm not back to my 28-year-old-model-bod, but I'm working on being my most healthy self.   I dish up an adult portion and usually end up eating only a kids portion of it, when I'm hungry - teaching myself that I can eat less - it's just my mind playing tricks on me.  When I crave something salty, I drink water and when I crave something sweet I eat a fruit.  If I hit a 'debby-downer' moment, I grab a handful of nuts.  The best part of my eating plan is that I never have to worry about those dreaded missed vitamins and minerals though and here's why.

How many of you take multi-vitamins a day?  Getting older it is one of the things we are told whenever we feel something's a miss.

I'd like to tell you that our Tribal Wellness Movement offers something similar to a multi-vitamin, without any chemical properties that will do the same job, made from only fruits and vegetables AND make you feel like you're on top of the absolute World - and, if you're like my niece Megan, that don't do pills at all - I can even offer them to in a chew-able form.  Now that's what I call, genius!

In short, putting healthy, grown from the Earth, straight off the farm,easy-in-your-lunchbox or zip-lock baggy goodness in your tummy, will make it smile right back at you!

Want to know more...leave a comment/your story/your eating problem below this blog for us.  We'd love to hear from you!

2.  PLAN AHEAD

When you already know what you need to eat, the best way to fall off the wagon and start consuming things you know are not good for you, is to not be prepared.

I’m not saying you have to spend ten hours every Sunday preparing your entire week’s meal plan ahead of time (unless you want to).

But don’t allow yourself to just “go with the flow” and pick up things here and there whenever you’re hungry. If you do that, you are more likely to eat unhealthily than healthily AND spending tons more money than your budget allows  —  it’s the way our current environment is designed.

Our whole food based nutrition, including juice powder concentrates from 25 different fruits, vegetables and grains helps bridge the gap between what you should eat and what you do eat every day. Not a multivitamin, medicine, treatment or cure for any disease, our capsules are made from quality ingredients carefully monitored from farm to capsule to provide natural nutrients your body needs to be at its best.

Best of all, if you're a mom or dad, when you ask us for yours, YOU'LL GET YOUR KIDS' ABSOLUTELY FREE! [Want to know more?  Drop us a line at the bottom]

3. TAKE YOUR TIME

Sometimes we simply eat too fast to take note of what we’re actually putting in our bodies.

If you've ever played a sport or a music instrument or studied for exams, you'd remember that you didn't simply wake up that morning with a spring in your step and just the right moves to ace it every game, symphony or test.  You'd have to spend weeks preparing, ensuring the right process was followed to get you to your best.

Our Tribal Wellness Movement recommends a 90 day steady injection of earthy goodness.  Let your body be testament to what fuels it best.

Why do we need it?

Everyone wants to eat right and maintain a healthier lifestyle—whether you're a busy mom hustling to feed on-the-go children, a business traveler trying to stay fit, or an active boomer keeping up with grand kids. Unfortunately, maintaining a balanced nutritional diet is often a challenge. In simplest terms, healthy eating is about getting back to basics − by following the latest USDA guidelines, like those from USDA’s My Plate. The current recommendation for a healthy diet is to fill half your plate at each meal with fruits and vegetables. But healthy eating takes time, planning, and can cost a lot of money. Most of us suffer from a daily fruit and vegetable consumption gap as a result. Rich in vitamins and antioxidants, our products can help you fill that hole in your diet.

The Benefits of Wholefood Based Nutrition or as we like to call it:  The Importance of a Healthy Diet

The best way to reduce your risk of disease is to eat healthy. The right fuel in your body makes it run better. Fruits and vegetables are two key food groups known to contribute to better health. Our wholefood products puts more of the valuable nutrition from fruits and vegetables back into your diet to improve health and wellness. Give yourself a better diet and a healthier lifestyle.

We'd like to highlight an absolutely incredible health transformation:  Anna Cameron.  Thanks so much for sharing your story!

As a mum of two... I know exhaustion (like most parents do). And just over a year ago I was in the thick of it. Breastfeeding my youngest... my baby and toddler tag teaming waking in the night... and my hubby having knee surgery... which meant he couldn’t help settle the girls. My brain fog was thick, stress was building, my hair was falling out in clumps and anxiety I felt in years past was creeping back into my world.

So I knew something had to change. The worst part was that I was ready to go get medicated for the anxiety (which was also playing havoc on my mind as I don’t usual even take Panadol). Amazingly, somehow at that moment, I found a program that really spoke to me... all natural, safe for me and my baby while breast feeding, and for the rest of my family. Knowing the alternative, I had to try.

After less than two weeks of starting on the program and using the capsules, and complete powder, I noticed an incredible change in my energy. I no longer needed afternoon naps and was getting better sleep at night (when we got it). Almost instantly I noticed my hair stopped falling out in huge clumps, and I felt like somehow the baby brain fog I had lived in for the past 2.5 years had actually lifted. Probably most surprisingly the anxiety that I was feeling, and was just about to medicate myself for was all but gone 💕🙌🏽.

I honestly couldn’t believe it... but also do realise how I had not been taking care of myself, because I was so concentrated on taking care of my family. So it actually makes total sense that the extra nutrients were helping to get my body functioning properly again.

One year on... I have not looked back. In addition to the benefits above, I found my sugar cravings disappear... i have been making small consistent changes in my eating and have lost a total of 14 kgs... I feel healthier than ever (something I would not have expected to say after my 2 babies).

Incredibly, I have not had more than a runny nose for over a year. And probably even more impressive is my daughters' immunity, they have the chews everyday (they LOVE them)... and while all of our friends seem to roll through sickness after sickness, temperature after temperature, the girls have missed it all and have had minor colds at worst over the winter ✨🙌... a parent's dream come true!!

I would admit that I was skeptical of the products when I read about them initially... and I truly though I was pretty healthy and that good food was the answer. The real problem was that I had no time to look after myself and I was definitely not getting the much needed nutrients from my usual meal of peanut butter on toast. We can all say we have good intentions, but this program allowed me to make my intentions a reality, quickly and conveniently.

Grateful is an understatement ❤️

#exhaustion #hairloss #brainfog #anxiety #weightloss #sugarcravings#strongimmunesystems #healthykids

We'd love to hear what your goals are (weight loss, weight gain, muscle gain, a healthy glow), the frustrations of day to day aches and pains, shopping wows and anything else you'd like to share with us. Get in touch with us today.  

[gay-but-rad-blog]

Okay so this is going to sound super attention seeking but I only have 7 followers and only one of them actually knows me in real life and she’s decent so I don’t care about this. I just spent the last hour crying because absolutely none of my friends WANT to be my friend, and no one wants to be around me. It’s not even the fact that I’m antisocial. It’s the fact that I’m a freak and I’m weird and I’m loud and obnoxious and I go over the top and I’m mean to everyone. and I’ve been trying so hard to stop being mean and to be nice to people but no. I’m nicer than I was 5 years ago, but I’m still an awful shitty person.

 Today we took a state test and a friend of mine messed up and didn’t do some of the questions so she sat there making fun of herself and she looked like she was about to cry and she was talking about how happy she was (sarcastically) and I asked how happy she was and she said she was so happy and to get on her level of happiness and like the asshole I’ve always been I said “I’m not dumb enough to be that happy”. I fucking said that to that poor girl and I don’t know why the hell I did it but I did. and she was obviously upset but she tried really hard not to overreact and I felt bad and she said that she didn’t want to be my friend anymore and I kept apologizing so eventually she said she forgave me, probably just so I would shut up and stop apologizing. Let me mention the fact that I had a huge crush on this girl, but now I like someone else.

 The girl who I like now shouldn’t even associate herself with me at all. she’s so precious and pure and nice and she probably only talks to me because she’s such a nice person and she sees that I’m upset and I feel the worst for her because I’ve been friends with her for like a month and this girl is literally one of my closest friends, mostly because of the fact that I have like 5 friends. ill touch up on that subject soon.

 Well, in a month, I have developed an insane crush on her, bothered her, annoyed the living hell out of her, probably made her feel bad about herself, and she probably thinks I hate her because I haven’t been talking to her for a lot of reasons. Well, I made a fan page for her and she watched me be a fucking creep and fucking go through her Instagram and take screenshots of all of her pictures so I could post on the fan page. I fucking saw the look in her eyes and I kept asking if she was okay with it and if she thought it was weird and she kept saying she didn’t care but I could see it in her eyes but I didn’t pay very much attention to it so I didn’t realize that I freaked her the fuck out.

 Well, I kept talking about it and eventually I asked her out a couple days later and she obviously said no. And that wasn’t really bad at all because I knew it was going to happen, I had just liked her for a really long time and I wanted to tell her that I liked her really bad because I tell her almost everything. Well, we spoke for like 6 hours and I had been really anxious and she made me feel so much better, which isn’t surprising because talking to her always makes me feel better.

 Well, eventually she texted me and asked me to take the page down and I did, and she told me how she felt about it and I fucking KNEW, but like an idiot I just ignored it because I wanted to be selfish like I always am. Let me just mention the fact that this girl almost always notices when I’m upset and she’ll let me talk and rant about what’s wrong, but whenever she tries to add something I cut her off like the asshole I am and I never notice until AFTER I do it because that’s the kind of obnoxious bitch I am. Well after she told me that, I asked if she was mad at me and she said she had to go. She never answered the question, and she usually texts with a completely different tone and I noticed her tone and I felt so fucking awful.

 I was worried the whole weekend that she didn’t want to be my friend anymore and that I was going to have yet another class that I stay completely silent in and isolate myself in because everyone thinks I’m weird and they don’t want to talk to me and she’s my only friend in that class along with two other girls. I was honestly so fucking scared that she didn’t want to be my friend anymore. It’s not even the fact that I really like her. That’s almost irrelevant.

 It’s the fact that she’s such an amazing person and she’s so sweet and amazing and to know that I made someone like her hate me would break me because she’s one of the sweetest, most caring people I know and she’s so nice and I just love her so much. There’s so few people in this world like her and she doesn’t give herself enough credit and that bothers me so much because she’s amazing. Not because I like her or because she’s pretty or whatever. She’s just such a sweet person and I love her so much and I want to be so much closer to her but I push her away and I’m 99.9% sure that tomorrow she’s going to ask me why I’ve been sad or why I’m sad or something like that and I feel really bad because most of this is about her and she doesn’t deserve any of this.

 Well Serra, the reason why I was super anxious over the weekend was because I thought that I fucked up so bad that I made someone like you not want to be my friend anymore. I didn’t approach you on Monday to give you a hug because I was convinced that you didn’t want me anywhere near you and when you said hi to me a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. The reason I didn’t want to tell you that and why I’m being such a coward and only letting you know like this is because I don’t have the courage to tell you directly and I know that if I do, it’s going to have to be in the locker room because I’ll start crying and I would rather you read this and know exactly how I feel because I’ve been really mean to you lately and you don’t deserve it. The reason I wasn’t talking to you last class was because I know that you probably don’t want me around just like everyone else and the only reason that you talk to me is because I always approach you and youre too nice to tell me to fuck off.

 That’s all there really is to her. Yeah she’s probably going to tell me that none of this is true or whatever but I see the look in her eyes whenever we talk that I’m making her uncomfortable or that I’m annoying her and this reaction is probably exactly why she wasn’t completely honest in the first place but I guess it’s too late now.

 But then there’s all of my other friends. the only ones that seem to be able to stand me are the ones that hardly talk to me, and quite frankly, I don’t consider them my friends.

One of them snapped on me the other day and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me anymore and I’m positive that she now talks about me and I’m honestly over it.

There’s one kid in my math class and he’s my only friend in that class and he probably doesn’t even want to be my friend because he’s so motivated and smart and I’m just the girl that sits next to him who broke his pen once and drives him nuts all throughout class.

Then there’s this one girl in my Spanish class who is that person I talked about earlier who has me on here but whatever.

I have some friends in freshman seminar but they don’t really seem to like me either and one of them is the girl who I called dumb and the other is the guy in my math class. Theyre not really that bad but they don’t seem to want me around either, unsurprisingly.

Then I have HOPE. That’s the only class I have with the girl I like and I already talked about that situation so I don’t know why I just brought it up.

In English, I have the girl who I called dumb. I used to have more friends in there but when I liked her I tried too hard to be friends with them and now they don’t seem to like me either so I try not to talk to them.

In bio, I have absolutely no friends and the only people who make an effort to talk to me only talk to me so I can give them answers and they probably think I’m weird too.

The only class that I feel like people want me around in is art. The teacher is really picky and a hard grader and it’s my lowest grade but all of my friends in there actually seem to like me. I’ve never had any doubts about it and I’m slowly starting to actually like the teacher. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to switch into that class in the beginning of next year. At first, I didn’t pick it because I didn’t want to have the teacher again but I’m starting to realize that she’s not that bad. Yeah she’s super hard on grading and she calls everyone losers, but she isn’t really MEAN and she cares about her students, even if she doesn’t show it. The kids who I’m friends with in art are all seniors except one who’s a junior and it’s only a group of like 5 kids but I love the class. I love going there and I love painting and I love just being in that environment. There’s no hard feelings with anyone and all of the kids welcomed me in with open arms and everyone is just so nice and I love everyone in there. It’s my safe space. I have fun and we laugh and its honestly the only class that I feel comfortable in. every class makes me feel unwanted and annoying and stupid but art makes me feel wanted and I feel like I actually fit in.

But back to the bad things in life that are the reason why I feel so shitty.

Well, other than the fact that I’m slowly losing all my friends, the only one that’s stuck through everything with me is my best friend. She’s the reason why I switched schools. I’ll talk about that later too. Well lately, I’ve been pushing everyone away and I’ve been keeping to myself and yeah, obviously Victoria doesn’t like that, but it seems like she’s replacing me. I don’t blame her though because I haven’t even been talking to her lately, but it still hurts. She has new friends that she’s left me for a couple times and she talks about how she’s so observant and how she always knows when I’m not feeling well but she hasn’t noticed how I’m always sad or how I’m always distant or how I never want to talk to anyone or the fact that I feel shitty and I haven’t been eating. She notices all the big things. Never the little ones. And the little ones are what give her all the information she wants but she’s so busy finding new friends that she hasn’t realized that I’m hurting and she isn’t there. Not that I’m letting her be there. Whenever I went to her she always has something to say and she tries to give me a solution instead of just sitting there and listening. I don’t want a solution. I don’t want her to tell me how I should handle the situation. I don’t want to hear how I’m overreacting or how I’m feeling the wrong way and how I’m just making this worse for myself. She doesn’t understand that I can’t just wave a magic wand and decide to be happy. She doesn’t get that I can’t MAKE myself happy. And she gets upset when I instill my happiness into other people because I always end up getting hurt, but what is there for me to be happy about for myself. I’ve been trying so hard to change who I am and it’s not working and I just want to be someone else. I don’t want to snap at her or hurt her feelings when she tells me how I should feel so I just don’t talk to her about my feelings at all and I’m ruining our friendship but I’ve stopped caring at this point. I don’t care about a lot of things. She just doesn’t listen to me when I say I feel a certain way and I don’t want solutions. I want her to shut up and listen.

Then there’s Sebastian. There’s nothing really WRONG with our relationship. He still means a lot to me but he got a girlfriend and she doesn’t like me because she thinks I like him but I don’t. he’s literally the closest thing I have to a brother. But I’m so hurt because ever since my phone broke we stopped being close and we hardly talk anymore. He was the one person who I used to go to whenever I wouldn’t feel good. He would always make me feel better. And now when I need him most he isn’t there. I miss how he used to make me feel better. He always had something to say to make me feel better. I miss having someone to talk to. I guess I’m mad at him because he doesn’t talk to me anymore. But the only way to talk to me is through a screen.

When I left lap, I thought I would be okay. I thought I would feel better and being around my old friends and familiar faces would make me happy. It didn’t. I’ve lost all of my old friends except Victoria and I’m pretty sure that I’m close to losing her too. At lap, I was the outcast. The kid who wasn’t a part of the “IB family”. Even the “weird” kids had their little group of friends who loved them and always wanted to be around each other. I was just that one tag a long who didn’t ever really become close with any one group so I just hung around with everyone. No one ever approached me. Everyone thought I was weird, edgy, and lazy. A lot of people made fun of me and no, it wasn’t bullying. Just an occasional friendly teasing. But it made me feel so much worse because I didn’t ever really have anyone to tease back. I had certain groups that I was intent on joining, but I never really fit in. I was like the kids who sit by themselves at lunch and who have no friends except maybe an occasional person who comes to say hi. Occasionally. No, I never sat by myself. No I was never completely alone. I always had people around me, talking and laughing, but I always felt alone. After a week, everyone at lap stopped talking to me. The only thing that kept me in touch was me Snapchat streaks, and since I lost all of them, I bet none of them will ever talk to me again unless there’s drama they want to hear about.

And then there’s my mother. My mom is the only thing keeping me alive. Most of what I do is to make her proud of me, but shell never be proud enough. She’s the only person other than the people in art that make me feel wanted. But this morning she told me that as soon as I turn 18 I’m out and that hurt so bad. That’s probably a big part of what triggered all of this. How awful do I have to be to make my own mother want to kick me out when I turn 18? How bad can I fuck up? Yeah, she probably didn’t mean it, but it still hurt. A lot. My own mom doesn’t want me to live with her. Everyone else must feel 10 times worse about me.

That’s why I’ve been depressed. That’s why I’ve been upset and that’s why I haven’t cried since I started typing this, but I took a small break and I had to get back to typing because I almost started crying and I couldn’t handle it. I don’t want to walk around in a school full of kids who don’t want me around. I don’t want to burden all of my friends. I don’t want anyone to feel bad. I know this is staying on Tumblr, but I wish I could say this all to the people that this centered around. Instead of typing for 2 hours for a website that no one knows me on. I wish I could have a conversation all day with Sebastian about all of this and he can make me feel better. I want to feel good about myself. I don’t want to doubt every single one of my friendships anymore. It’s too draining on me.

[sparkinsidewrites]

The Truth Can’t Save You Now - Chapter Six

Title: The Truth Can’t Save You Now

Chapter: 6/15

Character/Pairing: Davey Havok/Adam Carson

Genre: Angst/Thriller/Romance

Rating: Explicit

Summary:   Davey is the sole witness to a brutal murder. Adam Carson is the agent assigned to protect him. When the lines between duty and love blur, trouble is the only outcome. Written with Havoksangel.

Authors Notes/Warnings:  Nothing in this piece ever happened. I claim no ownership nor do I make any sort of profit from this, other than pride and a sense of amusement.

SIX

"Night, Carson," Harris called, pulling the door shut behind him. Adam nodded gruffly, allowing his eyes to wander around the apartment. Satisfied that everything was quiet for the time being, he made his way into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator door. Grabbing a beer from the shelf, Adam wandered back into the livingroom. He shouldn't be drinking, especially not while he was on duty but he was hard pressed care at the moment.

Davey sat with his arms crossed in a chair across the room from the man that was to protect him. His eyes following his every move. For two weeks they had done this. Harris during the day, Adam at night. For two weeks Adam and Davey shared dark glances and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why Adam hated him so much. He was doing him a favor by testifying and putting his life on the line. There were times where he would see a smile on the man's face, but it seemed the minute he realized he was smiling, he shook it away.

Adam could feel the dark eyes on him, boring into him. He always stared. It unnerved Adam. Everything about Davey unnerved him. Taking a swig of his beer, Adam raised his narrowing eyes "What?"

"You're drinking?"

Adam rolled his eyes, "Thank you Captain Obvious," he mumbled under his breath. Running his fingers through his hair, Adam sighed, "Yes, I'm having a beer. I don’t see the harm in that."

"You're supposed to be protecting me and you're drinking. What if someone comes in and you're passed out or something?"Davey questioned. "And why are you such a dick?"

"It's one fucking beer, Marchand," he spat back, not bothering to dignify Davey's second question with an answer.

Davey rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair. He crossed his legs and swung his foot, pissed at the man in front of him. Pissed because he was an ass and pissed because, despite himself, he had developed a crush on him.

Annoyance flooded through Adam. Why he let David Marchand get under his skin. he'd never understand. He was infuriating; always wanted to know what was going on, always watching him. The eye roll was the final straw. Shoving himself to his feet, Adam stomped from the livingroom towards the fire escape out back. He needed some air.

Davey's eyes followed him and when he walked outside, he got up and walked to the door. "Why do you hate me?"

Adam groaned, letting the bottle hang at his side, "Why do you care?"

Davey looked down. "You're making me miserable."

Adam chuckled, taking another swig of his beer, "That makes two of us."

The wind blew making Davey's hair dance around his face. He looked through it at Adam. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Well, that's life," Adam sighed. He knew he was being a right bastard. Knew he had no reason to be. But this whole situation Karn, the trial, everything it was driving him crazy. God, he needed to get away.

Davey took a deep breath. "Do you have a wife?" He asked trying to make small talk

Adam froze, the bottle in his hand shaking slightly. Of all the fucking things he could have asked. "No," he hissed icily, wanting now more than ever to just be anywhere other than where he was. "And it's none of your business."

Davey stared at him. "I was just trying to start a conversation."

"Well if I wanted to talk, I would be talking. Get it?" Even as the words flew from his mouth, Adam regretted them. Davey hadn't done a thing to him. He was stuck in the same damned boat Adam was.

That was it, Davey couldn’t take anymore of the hatefulness. He turned on his heel and ran from the balcony and up to the bedroom he was made to call his. It was cold room, nothing that meant anything to him was in it. He slammed the bedroom door shut and locked it, not wanting anything to do with Adam. Fuck him for being an asshole.

Adam jumped as the door slammed overhead. Great. Taking another swig of his beer, Adam settled himself on the metal grated stairs. His eyes cut up to the night sky, noting how the stars shimmered above him. Lily always loved watching the stars. Violently, Adam shook his head trying to case the thought away. It couldn't handle it, not now.

Davey looked around the room, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. He needed out. He needed away from all of this; from Adam. He grabbed his duffle bag from under the bed and started shoving clothes into it. He didn’t care where he went, he was just going. He was so frustrated that his own safety meant nothing. He just needed to breathe. After packing his belongs, he ran down the stairs and to the front door.

The commotion pulled Adam back into the present. Someone was wandering around the apartment. Flying to his feet, he yanked his gun from its holster at his side and scrambled back into the apartment. If something happened now, he'd never forgive himself. Not after he'd been nothing but cold and vindictive to a man who was very much a captive in this situation.

Gun cocked and raised, Adam crept towards the front door, hoping to head off whoever was snooping about. He'd call for backup later, there wasn't time now. Rounding the corner, He tackled the assailant, pressing his gun firmly against the man's temple.

Davey screamed, his duffle bag flying. His heart was pounding in his chest and the weight of the man on top of him was crushing. "A...Adam!"

"Fuck," he hissed recognizing the voice beneath him. Jumping off of Davey's body, Adam gathered himself, shoving his gun back into its holster. "Where the fucking hell you do think you're going Marchand?! I could have fucking killed you!"

"It would have been better than this!" He hissed. "You people are keeping me here, trapped, alone, and you won’t even fucking talk to me." Davey turned his body to look up at Adam, eyes on fire.

"I'm not here to be your fucking friend, Marchand! I'm here to make sure you stay alive!" Adam's eyes held a fire of their own. The panic and fear that had raged inside of him was now replaced with anger.

"I can’t sit in this fucking house and be silent. I need to be talked to. I need interaction with people. I can’t shut myself off from the fucking world, Carson!" He fired back.

"Well, I'm sorry but the fucking world doesn't revolve around your needs and your wants." Adam hissed, closer to slamming his fist through a wall than he wanted or needed to be. Davey had a point, Adam knew that. He understood it. But he was angry and he was on edge. Davey had pushed things too far this time.

"FUCKING TALK TO ME. I AM GOING NUTS!" Davey screamed

Adam stared at Davey, stunned for a moment. He watched as the shorter man's chest heaved and his eyes burned. "Fine, we'll talk," he grumbled, heading back into the livingroom and plopping himself onto the couch.

His beer, he lamented, had been dropped in the commotion and now lay splattered across the fire escape. He would have gone for another had his nerves not been so frazzled, knowing from experience that when stressed his tolerance lowered. And he couldn't afford to risk it.

Davey looked at him. "I just want there to be no silence. I want to know a bit about you. Why are you so distant?"

"I have my reasons," he answered, placing his arm over his eyes. That was the one thing he had no desire to speak on. It wasn't any of Davey's concern. It wasn't anyone's concern.

"Okay, you have kids?"

Adam shook his head, "No, that never quite worked out for me," he responded with a sigh, "You?"

Davey laughed, his smile reaching his eyes. "Um, no."

"Not a kid person?"

"Well... kinda hard for me to have kids with another man."

Adam straightened a bit, arm falling from his eyes, "Oh..um...Well, yeah...I can get that...But um.." Nervously, he scratched the back of his head. That wasn't quite the response he'd been expecting.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to shock you. I'm just kinda open about it."

A soft chuckle feel from Adam's lips, "Yeah, I kind of picked up on that. But hey,” he shrugged, “if it works for you."

Davey pushed up from the floor and took a seat next to Adam on the couch. "So you don’t have a wife, do you have a girlfriend? I mean, if you do, I'm sure she misses you since you can’t talk to her while you’re here protecting me."

Adam tensed, Lily's face flashing before him. He could feel the tears prickling in his eyes. No, he refused to cry. Not now. Not like this. "No," he whispered, turning away from Davey to gather himself. Why couldn't the man just take a hint?

"Adam?" Davey said reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Adam shrugged him away, shaking himself, "I'm fine. Nope, no girlfriend or wife." He turned to face Davey once more. "You?"

"No, no boyfriend," he said, studying his face. "So, are you always an ass?" He smiled softly.

"On the job, yes," He replied. "This is my life, I take it seriously."

"When are you off the job? I haven’t seen you smile at all."

"There really isn't an 'off the job'," Adam shrugged, "It's just how it is."

Davey looked at him and cocked his head to the side. Determined to get a different expression, he smirked. "You need to get laid."

Adam shook his head. He hadn't been with anyone since Lily. He couldn't make himself. Couldn't tarnish what they shared for a meaningless roll in the sheets. "Sex is better when it means something other than release to the people involved."

"I agree, but you were supposed to laugh," he said nudging him.

He shrugged. "I just didn't find it funny."

Davey bit his lip ring and ran his fingers through his hair. "Do you have a sense of humor?"

"Everyone has a sense of humor," he countered.

"That is not true."

A ghost of a smile spread across Adam's face. "True. But generally the people worth knowing do." Something had changed between them. The awkwardness and hostility had vanished. Granted, Adam knew it was his fault it existed in the first place, but he had to admit it was nice to enjoy the company of another person again.

"Oh, oh, oh what's that I see? Is that a smile, Mr. Carson," he said touching his cheek.

"Marchand," Adam warned, brushing his hand away.

"I think it is," he teased. "I think there is smile waiting to creep out." He used to fingers to push where dimples would be.

"Marchand," he warned again, sliding farther down the couch.

Davey was holding back laughing because he knew he was bothering Adam. He slid down with him and moved his hand to his side and started tickling. He must really be bored because he never tickled.

Adam jumped at the contact. "Marchand," he managed to hiss as he struggled against him, "I'm fucking serious. Stop."

"Give in," he said in a sing song voice. "You know you wanna. Crack that sour puss glare."

Adam pushed him back. He knew this was all in jest, but it was a closeness he wasn't ready for. For all the time he'd spent with the man, Davey was still a stranger to him. This, this was too familiar.

"You are impossible. Would it kill you to smile?" Davey asked folding his arms over his chest. "How am I supposed to deal with someone who is afraid to show happiness in any form. Do you at least sigh when you take a much needed piss?"

His head cocked to the side, taken back by Davey's directness. "That's for you to ponder," he quipped, pushing himself from the couch, heading back into the kitchen.

"You are infuriating."

"Part of my charm," he called, digging through the refrigerator. "Want a drink?" Civil. It wouldn't kill him to be civil, maybe even warm to Davey. He couldn't keep shutting him out. Especially now that the man was persistent in pushing his way in.

"Water. I don’t drink alcohol," Davey said turning back to look at the kitchen. "So how long are you holding me hostage here?"

"No alcohol...ever?" Adam shook his head, "You are a rarity among men, Marchand." Grabbing a bottle of water and another beer, he back towards the livingroom. "You're here until its safe for you to leave. That may be right after the trial...It may be never. Karn's a powerful man and you're in the position to destroy him. You may never be able to leave."

Davey took the water and looked at him. His face changed from promising to hopeless. His life as he knew it was gone. There was a chance he would never see his family again and that this, this apartment of nothingness, was his home.

Hesitantly, Adam put his hand Davey's shoulder. "There's always a price to pay for doing what's right." Inwardly, he sighed. That was a fact he knew all too well.

"I had a life," he said quietly. "All I wanted was to go home and go to bed."

"We can't always get what we want, Marchand. That's the way this world works."

Despite himself a tear fell from his eyes and he moved quickly to wipe it away. He didn’t want to cry in front of Adam again. It was bad enough he had at the police station.

Adam wasn't sure how to react to Davey's show of vulnerability. Cautiously, he squeezed Davey's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Davey looked at his shoulder and then up at Adam. His brown eyes, that had just shown so much spark while playing with Adam, were dull now. Tears welled in them and he felt that, at any moment, he was going to break.

Adam set his beer on the coffee table, running his fingers through his hair once again. He always did this when he was nervous or uncomfortable. His eyes never left the man sitting before him. He wasn't sure what to say, what to do. And that fact alone frightened him.

Davey turned his head to not look at him anymore and sniffled. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. This isn't an ease situation to be in."

"This sucks, Adam."

"I know."

He laid back on the couch, his hair fanning out. The look on his face was that of defeat. This was his life now.

Adam felt for Davey. His life, his friends, everything had been ripped from him. All because of a split second decision. Hesitantly, Adam lowered himself beside Davey on the couch, torn between waiting to comfort him and wanting to flee. This entire situation was over his head.

Davey didn’t look up at him. He couldn’t or he would break down completely. His body trembled in trying to hold back his tears and he wanted to just disappear.

"Is there anything I can do?" Adam offered.

Davey loved physical contact and when he was upset that was the only thing that would calm him. He refused to ask him for that.

He could sense Davey's hesitancy. "Alright then," he started, pushing himself up from the couch. He knew he wouldn't get much out of Davey now. "I'll be in the back if you need me."

"Hold me for a minute," he whispered. "I can’t gather myself without contact from someone."

Adam froze, his eyes locked on Davey's hunched form. The request echoed in his mind. It was simple. Harmless. Completely understandable. But understanding Davey's need for contact and providing it were two entirely different things. Swallowing audibly, Adam settled himself on the couch once more.

Davey looked up at him, eyes tear filled and full of fear. He was terrified that he wasn’t going to make it out of this alive. He leaned forward and pressed his head to Adam's chest, listening to his heartbeat and letting it soothe him as much as it could. Pretending that this didn’t make his heart flutter would be stupid, but it really was about the comfort.

Adam tensed for a brief moment, startled by the sudden contact. Davey's tears soaked through the thin cotton of his t shirt. Gently, he allowed his hand to rest on the small of Davey's back, stroking him softly.

"I'm so scared, Adam." His hand clutched Adam's shirt as he let the tears flow freely.

"I know you are," Adam whispered, doing all he could to comfort the man in his arms. Pushing the fact this was a man from his mind. Adam allowed his eyes to slip closed, remembering the last time he'd held someone. Tears stung in his eyes. Lily.

Davey turned his head and looked up, noticing the discomfort in the man's arms. His tear filled eyes locked with the hurt blue ones and he swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry," Adam breathed, pulling away slightly. "I just...I can't."

"I... I wasn’t."

"I know...I just...I'm sorry." Adam pushed himself to his feet. "I'm sorry."

Davey looked up at him. "Someone broke your heart, right?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But sometimes it helps if you..."

"I. Said. No," he hissed, plucking his beer off the table and retreating down the hall to the spare bedroom he'd claimed.

Davey stared at the hall and didn’t know what to think about the sudden outburst. He thought that he and Adam were making some kind of progress at being friends, but maybe he was wrong.

Adam slammed the bedroom door shut, tossing himself onto bed. Memories swam through his mind. Images, places, events. Things he'd tried so hard to repress came rushing back. Her bright eyes. Her warm smile. Her laugh. The tears streamed from his eyes. Why did he have to lose her? Why?

Davey got up from the couch, feeling the need to apologize and knocked on the door. "Adam?"

"Go away," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Just go away."

"Adam," he said opening the door. "I'm sorry."

"Get out." Adam whispered, not bothering to face the door.

"You're crying."

Roughly, Adam jerked around "What part of 'Get out' do you not understand?"

Davey jumped back. "If you’re upset, let me help."

"If you want to help, just go!" he hissed, blue eyes burning.

Davey swallowed hard and backed out. "Fine," he managed to choke out.

"This is none of your business, Marchand. None." Flipping back around once more, Adam stared blankly at the wall before him.

"I said I was fucking sorry."

"And I thought I asked you to leave," he snapped.

"FINE!" He slammed the door shut and walked to his bedroom.

"Fine," Adam echoed in a whisper. "Fine."

Davey went back to his room and flopped on the bed, refusing to say anything else to Adam Carson.

Adam rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes roughly as he stared at the ceiling. The slamming of the door still echoed through the silence of the apartment. He had to pull himself together, get himself under control. For his sake...For Davey's.