#DON'T REBLOG and yes I fucking KNOW i can turn off the feature thanks for telling me it doesn't work on desktop

[elytrafemme]

what do i have to do for it to matter. people get medication and people get treatments and people get sympathy and people get explanations and people get diagnoses and people get to check all the boxes. it feels like my brain is physically forcing itself not to be too close to an explanation because at the last moment all symptoms will suddenly go away (i’m going to fucking kill Dahlia actually, because I think she’s the reason this keeps happening to me and even if she isn’t I’m just going to keep going until i find the bastard who is responsible). i go to therapy for five fucking years and nothing ever changes. it took whoever i was before this to fucking die before i could be split into this system and that was the most change we ever went through positively was someone fucking disappearing. 

oh mare you could have bipolar ... if your hypomanic periods were more rhythmic :/ or if the manias were worse lol :/ you could have psychosis but its not that bad :/ schizophrenia but you’re too “functional” you talk too “articulately” you’re never getting “anywhere” :/ you could have BPD but your life would be sooooo much more miserable mare and aren’t you happy :/ you could have CPTSD but you can’t even remember what happened to you can you? :/ 

I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong. I’ve done EVERYTHING right I have been so much BETTER about recovery than anybody I have met in my entire fucking life and I get nothing for it. I go to every therapy session I do all the positive self talk I try not to be toxic to people I try EVERYTHING more than ANYBODY. and all I get? Nothing. I never get ANYTHING. 

[teddynivvy]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ starry eyes

pairing: neighbour!ted nivison x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption. she/her pronouns used, use of y/n. 2k words.

a/n: the neighbour!ted fic is here hehehe!! fully intend on doing a part 2 so don't be too mad at me for this one. this is angsty!!! very much mutual pining trope. thank u to the anon who sent me this idea. it means so much to me if you reblog/leave comments/interact if u enjoy <3

⟡⟡⟡

when i'm alone i hear and feel you wish that i could reach right out and touch you but knowing you're the one to greet me, and meet me two alone in the dark, may it be.

“Hey, I’m having a few people over later tonight. You should come by.”

It’s said with a bag of groceries in his hand, silver frames falling down the bridge of his nose. You can see the packaging of the drinks out of the top of the tote bag, against the blue of his jeans, as your eyes travel up to meet his. 

Your neighbour, Ted, inviting you over for a party. The neighbour you’ve been crushing on for the better part of the last few months - you’ve cooked dinner in his apartment, had more movie nights than you can count, and shared all of your best stories with each other. It didn’t help that you could hear him through the extremely thin walls, offering more material for you to imagine about him, your hands between your thighs and picturing how his would feel in their place.

It’s easy with him, comfortable conversations under amber lamps in your apartment, and it was easy to imagine him slotting into your life. But you knew it was stupid to mess with your living situation and pursue something - this was the best apartment you’ve lived in since you moved to LA, and the last thing you wanted to do was jeopardize it.

So when he invites you over to his place for a party, to meet his friends, to be inserted into his life in some small way - you don’t really know what to say. He can sense that something’s off, that maybe you have plans, so he detracts.

“No worries if not, it’ll just be a small thing.”

You pull the keys from your lock and relax, turning back to look at him. Soft eyes, again, which allows you to breathe.

“Yes, sorry. Yes. That sounds fun. I’ll be there.”

The smile that spreads across his features as he dips too quickly into his apartment makes you blush furiously, letting your back press up against the wood of your door. Your purse finds its way onto the counter as you look at the time on the stove - mid afternoon, more than enough time to get ready. Ready in the way you look effortless - “just came over like this” type, even though Ted’s seen you in every outfit at this point. Taking the garbage out in your robe and not much else, getting home from work in a tight pair of black slacks and a button up that stretches across your torso in a way that forces his eyes to your waist, or in your sweatpants and sweatshirt when you knock on his door with a bag of microwave popcorn and a bar of his favourite chocolate. 

He knows you, more deeply and intimately than you may want to admit.

⟡⟡⟡

When Ted knows you’re coming to his get-together, he goes into overdrive. His friends had been over many times - seen the worst of his apartment, clothes strewn across the floor and piles of dishes, and he knows they don’t care. But he’s trying to make a good impression, despite the fact he’d probably consider you one of his closest friends at this point.

Something about having you over like this is making his head spin. He’s meticulously picking out an outfit, taking what he’s heard you call an “everything shower”, making sure his hair looks fucking perfect. He wishes he wasn’t so hell-bent on impressing you, but he can’t help but feel this is a bit of a litmus test of your relationship. Assuming you show up, of course.

Little does Ted know, you’re across the hall thinking the same exact thing.

Putting on a dress - taking it off. A cardigan and jeans - taking it off. Should you just wear fucking pyjamas at this point?

By the time you had picked something out, it was almost time to go over. You could hear the people funnelling into his apartment from behind your closed door, soft chuckles and the slaps of hands in high fives and handshakes as he invites people in. You can pick his laughter out of the group, deep and throaty, which you know comes from the small buzz he already has going. You also know that after a couple beers he gets touchy - a hand on your leg or a head on your shoulder on more than one occasion, usually when he’s falling asleep during a movie night. You don’t say anything.

You grab the unopened bottle of wine from your counter and check your hair and outfit once more, forcing yourself to leave before you started to overthink it. It's just Ted.

⟡⟡⟡

When you push open the door to Ted’s apartment, there’s more people than you thought there would be. Friends fill his kitchen and living room, some out on his patio sipping from brightly coloured drinks or taking drags from cigarettes. You spot Ted immediately, t-shirt hanging off of his body in the perfect way. It clings to his chest and arms, a soft tuft of chest hair peeking out from the neckline under his chain. His usual silver rings adorn his fingers, a beer pressed up against his lips as he makes eye contact with you. He earns a soft smile, tipping the drink from his lips and waving you over to where he was standing with a small group.

You put the bottle of wine on his counter and walk through the swarms of bodies, making your way over to him. The setting sun is bleeding pink and orange light into his apartment, illuminating him from behind as he towers over you. Flushed cheeks from the alcohol and a soft hand on your shoulder as he bends down, lips against the shell of your ear as he tells you how happy he is you came. “You look good.”

It’s enough for your cheeks to warm, embarrassingly so.

There’s two men across from him - who introduce themselves quickly as Charlie and Schlatt, with a small wave. You make small talk with them - learning that Schlatt had travelled from Texas to visit, hence why Ted was hosting this party. You told them that you were Ted’s neighbour, which earned raised eyebrows from both of them, a knowing look being shot at Ted. When you looked over and up at him, he was blushing furiously, awkwardly pressing the bottle to his lips once more.

Ted’s friends were easy to talk to, most of them having appeared in some of his videos (which you would never admit, you did do a quick Google search to watch - for research purposes, obviously). They all seemed to work in the same Youtube niche as him, with nothing but great things to say. It was making you fall harder and harder.

By your second glass of wine and an enthralling conversation with another friend of Ted’s - Eddy, and his girlfriend Chrissy, you were starting to wonder why you hadn’t seen Ted in a while. The fairy lights had come on on the patio, and they were bright against the smoggy night sky of LA. Your vision was slightly blurred, soft on the edges and hazy, as the music playing over the speakers blended into the background against the conversations around you. You stood up and excused yourself to the bathroom, hoping you might run into Ted on the way there.

And you did. Well, kind of.

Sliding past a group on your way up the stairs, Ted stood at the end of the hallway. He was talking to someone near the door of his bedroom, his eyes pointed down at a petite girl, with long brown hair and her eyes looking up at him like he hung the moon. You couldn’t help but stare for a second at the scene before you, a familiar pang in your chest as your breath hitched. 

The sinking feeling - embarrassment, awkwardness, disappointment all rolled into one. A girlfriend, maybe? A hookup? Whatever it was, you weren’t super interested in hanging around to find out.

You dipped into the bathroom just as Ted’s head turned to look at you, his gaze falling to the door. He swore he could see the pant leg of your jeans and the slight swish of your hair as he heard the door click. 

The girl in front of him had her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, glazed-over eyes from the alcohol as Ted’s blood ran cold, imagining what it must’ve looked like from your perspective. 

She put a hand on his chest and he gently backed away, muttering an apology and bounding down the stairs away from the situation. He felt stupid - sobering up damn near immediately at the thought of what he just did.

Ted had basically told all of his closest friends about his cute neighbour. Schlatt and Charlie hadn’t heard the end of it - goading him to just make a fucking move already. Schlatt had threatened to out him on the podcast, affectionately telling him to “stop being a pussy or he’d tell you himself.” He had invited you with the intention of making a move.

When Schlatt sees the panicked look on his face, his face softens as well. He meets Ted in the kitchen, putting his glass of whiskey on the counter with a gentle clunk.

“What’s up with you? You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

“(Y/N).”

Schlatt cocks an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“She saw me and Shae upstairs.”

“Why is Shae here?”

Ted sighs, letting his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even know. I didn’t invite her.”

“Tell her to get the fuck out then!”

As Schlatt says it, she comes down the stairs. The aforementioned petite girl, with a roll of her eyes, as she slides her glass across Ted’s countertop and dramatically slams the door behind her. It earns the attention from a few surrounding people, who quickly go back to their conversations.

“What happened?”

“She saw us.”

“Ted,” Schlatt grabs him by the shoulders. “Saw you do what?”

“Nothing happened. She cornered me upstairs and started touching my chest and fuckin’… telling me she missed me and shit. I don’t know.”

“Dude… you gotta go tell (Y/N). I thought you were finally gonna fuckin’ tell her how you felt, you idiot.”

Ted rolls his eyes. “What do I say? Hey, sorry, you saw me with my batshit crazy ex but it’s literally nothing, also I’m in love with you and have been for months?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence before Schlatt shakes his head, backing away from Ted to rejoin the party. “Don’t be a fucking idiot bro. You’re gonna ruin this before it starts.”

He heard foot steps behind him and turned around, seeing you descend the stairs. A small sniffle from your nose that you try to hide, meeting his eyes with a watery smile.

“We didn’t get to talk much tonight,” is what Ted says, which doesn’t seem like the right thing to say, and he realizes it the moment it leaves his lips.

“I’m gonna get going,” you choke out, attempting to hide the fact you’d just been unsuccessfully holding back tears a few minutes ago. “Great party.”

He opens his mouth to explain, but he doesn’t know what to say. “That wasn’t…” he starts. “That wasn’t anything.”

It’s left unsaid, what that means. Your hurt gaze was enough for him to soften, watching you step away from him. He can tell you don’t believe him.

He feels like a stranger suddenly, as you pull the door open and feel the tears brim your eyes once again. “Thanks for inviting me.”

The soft click of the door is enough for him to finally let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He wanted to punch a fucking wall, he felt sick.

The party thinned out quickly after that, people bidding Ted goodbye and thanking him for hosting. Schlatt was the last to leave - a somber smile and a clap on his shoulder. “Sorry it didn’t work out like you wanted.”

Understatement of the fucking century. 

⟡⟡⟡

[i8ickygrl]

（⭒ ˘˘）ᵎ🖋️➞﹕ready player one 🪷

featuring: streamer!gojo satoru x fem reader warnings: dubcon, mention of spit, a bit of exhibitionism, blowjob proofread(?): i think so authors note: thank you guys soooo much for the support on my last two fics! this one is a little rushed so i'm not sure if i'll keep it up but my brain was itching to write this concept. don't forget to like, reblog or leave a comment if you can! hope you enjoy! thank you for reading, lovey <3

streamer!gojo who spends so much time around that desk. you know how much he enjoys being a streamer, interacting with his followers and basically getting paid to hang out with his friends all day. but you can’t help but whine when his attention isn’t on you.

“yes, love?” he’d pull one side of his headphones off of his ear and raise an eyebrow. 

“what time do you think you’ll be off?” your plump lips formed into a pout.

“soon, baby. i promise.” he’d take one of your hands and rub his thumb over your knuckles loving before turning back to his screen.

it was the same every time. you really didn’t mean to be annoying, you just missed him so much… so how could he blame you for crawling under his desk and seating yourself in between his legs?

streamer!gojo who’s still so caught up in his little game, yelling at someone to revive him. not to worry though. his attention would be all on you soon enough. you smooth your hair behind your shoulders and lick your lips before sliding your hands over his knees. 

streamer!gojo jumps slightly at the feeling, stopping his sentence mid way and looking down at you. you smile sweetly and bring your finger up to your lips, silently shushing him. 

streamer!gojo who plays off his sudden change in demeanor, making up some dumb excuse. his eyes are wide as he tries to refocus his attention, feeling you palm him through his shorts.

you feel his cock twitch under your grip, looking up at him through your lashes and smiling wickedly. feeling him close to being fully hard, you tug at the waistband of his shorts signaling him to lift his hips. 

streamer!gojo glances anxiously at the chat, noticing a few “you good?”s but nothing too alarming yet. he didn’t know how far you’d take it but he was sure he could play it off. 

he was in his boxers now and you smiled further before sliding your hand into the slip and pulling his cock out. you hummed happily at the sight and began slow strokes around the tip, watching his length grow in your hands.

you hear his breath hitch above you and it only encourages you to go further. you place your other hand around the base and stroke faster, giving him kitten licks every now and then as his pink tint began to swell from the stimulation. 

streamer!gojo who’s face is starting to contort is pleasure. he attempts to clench his jaw to hide it but its a bit too far gone now. he looks down at you, seeing you begin blissfully sucking his cock. your head bobbed in rhythm with the hand you twisted at the base as you happily and hummed around him.

“uhhmmm… is he okay?”

“bro does your stomach hurt or something?”

“gojo??”

he glances at the chat and curses under his breath before hearing a loud voice blare through his headphones.

“LOCK THE FUCK IN SATORU!” 

“i’m sorry, ma- fuuck.”

streamer!gojo who looks down at you, your shirt off now and his cock wet with your spit. your mouth was opened slightly as you looked up at him, panting and silently encouraging him to cum for you. god, he wished he could take a picture. you looked so damn perfect. 

streamer!gojo is close to his limit now, barely trying to hide the way he lovingly looks down into your eyes and sighs in pleasure. 

suddenly you push your breasts up against his cock and he swears he could cum right there. you pump his length, still keeping eye contact, and your lips moves to say something barely above a whisper. 

“come play with me gojo.” a moan slipping past your lips as you speak.

streamer!gojo is immediately ripping off his headphones, spewing apologies to his chat while whoever he was playing with screams through his headphones. he frantically closes various screens and waves bye to his chat before hurriedly guiding you towards him by your chin, surprising you with a deep, heated kiss.

“let’s go finished what you started.”

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

I posted 1,514 times in 2022

That's 235 more posts than 2021!

958 posts created (63%)

556 posts reblogged (37%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@onlydylanobrien

@dylan-rhodesobrien

@dobshands

@dobrienwrites

@7thleveldown

I tagged 1,513 of my posts in 2022

#ask - 731 posts

#dylan o'brien - 682 posts

#anon - 469 posts

#anon ask - 464 posts

#not dylan - 175 posts

#dylan o'brien imagine - 174 posts

#personal - 167 posts

#;) - 136 posts

#thirsty anons are thirsty - 121 posts

#dylan in the wild - 118 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i don't think i could have coped with the last month if he wasn't there to help me forget about it for a while often enough to keep me sane

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Dylan O'Brien as Richie Boyle in 'The Outfit'

373 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

#4

Omg so excited, I love your writing!! What about “shh. there’s people in the other room.” with Stiles?? He’s such a little shit, you know he’d be down for some semi-public shenanigans lol

I've never written Stiles beforeeee!

I'm kind of excited to give it a go! I know his vibes and he's always been one of my favorite characters. This kind of behaviour is totally in-keeping with his nonsense ;)

Prompt list HERE

Thank My Caffeine Addiction

You hated that this stupid stranger had managed to turn you into a simpering idiot. This never happened. How many thousand people had you served coffee to over the years? How many cute guys had tried to get your number? More than you could fucking count, and yet here this dark-haired boy in his white button-up and black slacks was standing on the other side of the counter making you feel like English was your 15th language.

He dug his wallet out of his pocket while you gathered yourself enough to even ask him for his order.

"What can I get you?" you asked, clearing your throat.

"Anything with enough caffeine to put down a horse," he said, his eyes bugging a bit as he pulled a few bills.

You laughed and when he looked up at you, he smiled. "Little early for a red eye, but..."

"What's in that?" he asked, tapping the bills in his hand on the counter.

"It's uh..." Your gaze flicked down to his hand and you swallowed. He had to have nice hands. Just had to. "Coffee with an espresso shot in it." It had been nearly two weeks he'd been coming in here for coffee every morning and it seemed like every time you found something new and annoyingly attractive about him.

"That's a start," he said with a sweet smile.

"Venti?" you ask, typing his order into the computer

"If that's the biggest one, then yes," he let out a little laugh.

You shook your head and complete his order, pausing when the prompt enter his name popped up. You knew it. Of course you did. It was one of those annoying attractive things. Unusual and intruiging. But you didn't want him to think you were some kind of a creep for remembering it.

"Name?" you asked, not able to look up at him.

"Stiles."

You finalized the order and he handed you the money before you have a chance to read out the total. He's smiled at you, holding onto the bills when you tried to take them.

"What's yours?"

The lights from the glass pastry display lit his features, making his brown eyes look like sweet honey.

"Huh?"

"Your name?" he said, his tongue quickly darting out to wet his lips.

Shit. Your name. That's easy. Just say it. Say your name. This was taking so long you were sure the second-hand awkwardness was wearing off on the person in line behind him.

Your co-worker stepped up behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder, and said it. Oh, God. This was making the whole thing feel like fodder for one of those stories you tell about how you made yourself look like a complete ass in front of a hot guy.

"Nice to meet you. Officially...anyway." His brows were knit the tiniest bit before he tipped his head and smiled.

You felt that heat rush to your cheeks and cursed it because you were sure he'd be able to tell you were blushing. This entire interaction was making you feel like you did when you were 12 years old and Camden Peters had invited you to his birthday party.

"Why don't you make his order while I take the next one?" Your coworker wasn't blind. He'd been picking at you for just about as long as Stiles had been coming in. This was an attack, but you couldn't very well do anything about it right now, so you agreed and sidestepped the til, grabbing a large cup and writing his name on it.

Stiles moved along the counter with you, waiting patiently as you poured his coffee, pressed some espresso beans into the portafilter and locked it in place.

You looked up to see him staring at you before he quickly looked away toward the windows. "Nice day," he said.

See the full post

394 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

#3

❛ you can be rough. i can take it. ❜ -For Stiles, but he can't really take it. . :p

Another doubled-up request! ;)

Looks like you two are on the same wavelength. I will do my best with this, but you know I'm probably just going to twist it around and not give you what you were really lookin' for ;)

Authors Note: Smutty little number between Stiles and a non-gender-specific reader. Writing smut that's both satisfying and generic enough to read as any reader was challenging and actually a lot of fun :)

Prompt list HERE

See the full post

429 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

#2

Collision Course Coachella

Pairing: Dylan O'Brien x Reader (Female) Synopsis: The last person you expect to see dancing his way around the Coachella venue right in front of you is Dylan O'Brien, but sometimes the universe just puts you in the right place at the right time. Tags: Coachella, Dancing, Semi-Public Sex, Slow-Burn, Protected and Unprotected sex (this is fantasy...be safe) Rating: Explicit (obviously) Author's Note: You wanted it, I stayed up all night to give it to ya ;) It's juicy, and I've decided to turn it into a limited series due to popular demand! A three-part saga of the weekend the reader and Dylan spend together at Coachella 2022. Index: Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3

Day 1: Colliding (Reader POV)

There’s no fucking shot that’s Dylan O’Brien? Not a chance. There’s no way? Holy shit. Holy shit, wait. It is . It fucking is! You couldn’t help the blush that immediately flooded your cheeks when the realization set in entirely. 

He was walking with friends through a concession area when he started dancing to Run the Jewels that was blasting from the Mojave stage nearby, as his friends laughed and recorded him. His shirt was entirely unbuttoned and somehow the fact that it was lazily hanging from his body was more sinful looking than if he’d actually been shirtless. 

You were honestly trying not to stare, but to be fair? He was making a bit of a spectacle of himself, so you felt you were well within your rights as a human to be ogling. You weren’t the only one watching him, but you might have been the only one to recognize him. 

He spun around a final time and laughed, clapping his friend on the back as they headed off toward the cantina and beer barn. 

You smiled to yourself. A celebrity sighting while you were on a bathroom run. What a fun story to tell your friends when you made it back to the Gobi stage. You were checking out TOKiMONSTA before heading to the main stage for the rest of the evening. You looked over your shoulder one last time at Dylan and his group of friends before you headed back to meet up with your own. 

“Where the hell have you been?” your friend yelled at you as she bobbed along to the music when you finally make it back to her. “I thought you just had to pee? Did you get lost?” 

“Relax!” you yelled back, unamused. “I got…distracted,” you said, waving your arms dismissively before you tucked yourself in next to your friend. 

“What?” 

“I’ll text you!” you said, gesturing to your phone. You looked down at the screen and opened your message history with her and typed out a brief synopsis of the events of the last fifteen minutes. You watched her eyes bug out of her head before she looked up at you. 

You pressed your lips together and raised your brows before you nodded. 

“No way! No! Where!?” 

You pointed to your phone and sent another message. It was easier than burning through your voice and yelling over the music.

You: He was just vibing with friends? Over by beer barn. 

Her: We’re going. Now. 

“No!” you yelled at her and then looked back down at your phone.

You: Absolutely fucking not. I’m not gonna be one of those weirdos. He did look fucking hot though. 

Her: I bet. I’m fucking mad. I’ve never been more disappointed in my bladder. 

You: Next time don’t tell me to find it myself. 

She looked up at you and rolled her eyes before she flipped you off. 

Continue Reading on AO3!

Much love everyone! I hope I don't let anyone down. I know this shit was in high demand. It's 10 AM and I haven't slept, but the Coachella smut now exists in the world. Be a dear and let me know if you liked it (or didn't, honestly). Feedback, that's all I'm askin' for. This thing was a labour of insanity, and your feedback always makes it worth it :) -Trashy xoxox

616 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

AH 🤍 could you do ❛ you can kiss me, you know.❜ with stiles pleaseeeeee?

This sounds so sweet!

I don't know how smutty this will end up being, but I have very little control when I get writing, it just kinda happens. Let's see what goes down, huh?

Author's Note: Malia who? You'd moved in across the street from Stiles and his father in sophomore year, and you could never really put your finger on what was going on with him and his friends, but it hadn't stopped you from falling pretty hard for the chaotic, doe-eyed boy next door ;)

Prompt list HERE

His Anchor

Was this really happening? Everything felt like it was falling apart. The whole pack was a mess and the last person he expected to make him feel like a fuck up was Scott, but sitting here now, soaked down to his underwear—his windshield smashed to pieces—that was his reality.

It was never easy being ordinary among the extraordinary. Stiles had always tried to contribute what he could, and he'd grown to believe he was valued and useful—more than useful—so it was hard feeling like his best friend didn't seem to understand his sacrifices, how hard it was to feel adequate, how important it was to him to be what everyone needed, what everyone wanted. The pressure was so immense sometimes that he'd lay down to sleep and the sun would come shining in through the windows without him catching a wink. Adderall was a crutch he leaned on so hard it was bound to snap any minute. He felt like he was being held together by a fraying thread.

He was sitting there—water dripping from his sleeves—when his phone vibrated in the seat next to him. The screen lit, displaying your name. Stiles picked it up but didn't answer. He let it ring in his hand until the screen went black. He wasn't sure he was ready to talk to anyone, even you. You were this part of his life that was untainted. You weren't a part of the mess. You were his escape. His anchor. If he answered the phone right now, he'd be blurring the lines.

No one in the pack really knew how close he'd gotten to you. He wanted to protect you from all that. He texted you in the middle of the night after one bullshit werewolf-related catastrophe or another, and you always answered. You were there to slide open your bedroom window and let him in. It was innocent enough in the beginning. Just friends. Just talking. Until one night a couple of weeks ago when he showed up in a torn shirt with a split lip. He tried to explain it away as clumsiness, a lacrosse incident, but you didn't buy it. You'd used a damp cloth to help clean his wound and he'd been so impulsively stupid that he thought that soft way you were looking at him was some kind of invitation, and he'd almost kissed you.

It had been different since then. He'd felt so stupid when he'd seen how shocked you looked, how you'd pulled back. Ever since, he'd avoided talking to you about it, despite the few times you'd tried. He hadn't climbed up the side of your back porch to your window since. But right now—with everything falling apart the way it was—he wished you were here, wished things were different, wished he could tell you who he really was.

His phone rang again. It was you. He wet his lips with his tongue, drumming his fingers against his phone, his forearms resting on the steering wheel. On the last ring, he swiped to answer.

"Hello?" he said, his voice trembling. He shouldn't have answered.

"Stiles?" There was a brief pause. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah..." he lied, looking out through the shattered glass at the flickering streetlight above him, "everything's fine."

There was dead air on the line for a few moments before you spoke again. "Bullshit, Stilinski."

Stiles, pulled in a short breath and gripped the wheel tight in his palms. "It's nothing."

"It's not."

"Can we just drop— Can we just talk about something else?" he pleaded, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Okay," you quickly agreed. "You wanna talk about that night then?"

"God no!"

"Well..." you paused, "it's gotta be one or the other, because I'm tired of you freezing me out like this."

Stiles flopped back in the driver seat, letting his shoulders relax as he picked at the chapped skin of his lower lip with his teeth.

"Talk to me..."

You had no idea how badly he wanted just that. He wanted to let you in, he just didn't know that if he did he could keep you safe. But he was a master of vaguery at this point, so he'd try to figure out how to explain without spilling the 'creatures of the night live among you' specifics.

"Everything... everything is falling apart..." You were quiet, so he continued. "You ever have those dreams where you lose control of the car you're driving? Like you can't steer it anymore no matter what you do?"

"Uh...I have, yeah."

"Well," Stiles let his head fall back against the headrest, "it feels like that, except I'm awake.... Don't think I could sleep if I wanted to..."

There was a long pause, but he could hear you breathing.

"You there?"

See the full post

1,076 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

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[nicekillchanceballs]

THEIR FAVORITE SPOTS TO PLACE HICKEYS

NSFW (minors dni!) Featuring: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader, Akaashi x fem!reader, Tsukishima x fem!reader (yes, gym 3 squad because i'm a hoe for them) Contains: SMUT, fingering, nipple play, rough sex, degradation, masochism, some mentions of blood, cockwarming, orgasm denial, cunnilingus A/N: lately i am very addicted to genshin impact, help me! haha, so this is my first time writing smut, taking a break from my fluff works lol. anyway, thank you for those who like and reblog, we very much appreciate it ❤️️ -- sloth 🦥

Akaashi likes giving you hickeys on your breasts. It is a hidden spot because he does not want you getting stressed about covering it up the next day. He gets turned on by the fact that it is unseen by others like it is some sort of a secret sexual souvenir between the two of you.

Breathless, he pulled away from the kiss and hoisted you above the kitchen counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you. "Are you okay, babe?" He panted while hitching your skirt higher. "The counter tiles are cold but it's okay, don't worry about me," you then bit his lower lip, making him groan. He hastily unfastened your button-down blouse and moaned when he felt you were not wearing anything underneath. His fingers then played on your hardened nipples. He broke away from your mouth and started trailing kisses down your jawline up to your collarbone. His fingers found their way through your soaked panties and flicked through your clit slowly. "You're so wet, babe." You wanted to say some snarky remarks but you couldn't find your words, only a moan escaping from your mouth as you threw your head back in pleasure. Akaashi then eased two fingers inside your pussy, making you gasp. His mouth sucked on one of your nipples while his fingers pumped in and out of your hole, his pace becoming faster as he felt your nails digging deeper into his biceps. "Babe, I-- I'm cumming," you cried out. "Already?" He teased, placing a kiss on the swell of your breast and sucked on it, hard. This pain added to the sensation, finally releasing the tightened coil formed in your lower abdomen, drowning you in pure ecstasy. Recovering from your orgasm, you have now the energy to tease him back. "It's your turn now, Keiji."

Tsukishima loves sucking on your shoulders and back. He is a degrading teasing bastard, so it depends on his mood if he will place a hickey in a spot where it can be seen by others or not. You'll just know it the next day. One thing for sure, he likes to place a lot of hickeys. A LOT.

He grabbed your arm and tugged you towards him, your back flushed on his chest. "You're really a slut, huh? I bet you think of him pounding you instead of me." He whispered darkly against your ear, his wood rubbing on the entrance of your dripping pussy. "W-what? No-- Shit!" You choked as he suddenly rammed his cock inside you, bottoming out in one swift motion. Tsukishima then bit your shoulder and aggressively sucked on it, tasting some blood on his tongue. You mewled as the pain shot a wave of electricity straight to your clit. He then pushed you on the bed, sending you on all fours. His hands gripped your waist tightly and started to thrust his hips, watching his cock disappear in and out of your little tight hole. He held back a long grunt, denying you the satisfaction that you make him feel so fucking good. He then brought his lips on your back and planted kisses before he sucked another hickey. This made you whimper, "Harder, please, harder!" He upped his pace and sucked another spot on your back, while his fingers found your clit and vigorously rubbed on it. "K--Kei!!" You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your pussy spasming around his dick. Tsukishima couldn't hold back his voice anymore as he moaned loudly when he came inside of you. You panted as the both of you came down from your highs, with him pulling you to lay your head on his chest. "That's the loudest moan from you that I ever heard so far." You teased. He tried hard not to smile but failed. "Don't push it."

Kuroo is another teasing asshole so when you consented to him placing hickeys on your neck, well, that was cloud nine for him. You tried to hide the first one he gave you by wearing a turtleneck and he laughed his ass off. He then helped you by placing a cold compress for it to heal faster, then using a concealer to cover it up -- he is surprisingly good at it.

"Stop squirming, babe." He looked away from his game on the television screen and sneered down at you. "You're lucky I'm horny today or else I wouldn't be here straddling you and warming your dick." Your eyebrows furrowed, feigning annoyance. Kuroo's smirk grew wider. "I know you love it too." "Shut up, asshole." You blushed and buried your face on the crook of his neck. His cock throbbed as he felt your pussy tightened around him. Losing his control, he threw his game controller away and lifted your head so he can see your face. "You guys done playing already?" You asked. "Not yet--" He growled as he snapped his hips upward, his cock poking your cervix, making you gasp. "H-how about Kenma and the others?" You stammered as he thrust upwards again. "It's a team game, right?" You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation. "It's okay, they'll replace me--" Kuroo placed his hands on your hips and lifted you up and down. "Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned as his teeth tugged on your earlobe. He positioned your legs on either side of him, letting you ride on his cock. He then sucked hard on the thin skin of your neck, making you moan loudly. "Tetsu--" You whined as he held your hips in place and took over the rhythm, with him frantically thrusting his dick harder and deeper inside you. When you are nearing your orgasm, he stopped his thrusts, making you whimper in frustration. He smirked at you then stood up with his cock still buried in you, carrying you towards the bedroom. "Now the real game begins."

Bokuto goes feral when he sees the many hickeys he planted on your plush thighs. He can be possessive at times and these love bites mark you as his. He just adores your thighs -- he has this subconscious habit of running his large hands up and down them while watching television or squeezing them under the table during team dinners.

"Yes, right there, Bo, fuck!" You mewled as Bokuto continued to lap at your clit while his thick fingers plunged in and out of your slit. His other hand stroked his hard cock, now dripping in pre-cum. He then raised his head, looked at your fucked out face while rutting his wood into his hands. This encouraged him to up his pace, also making sure to brush over your g-spot. He then pulled his fingers out of you, held your thigh in place, and added another mark on your inner thigh, sucking on it, making sure that it will bruise over the next few days. "Stop Bo, please, I want you inside of me," you whined as you pulled his arms towards you. He happily obliged, hovering over you. He then rubbed his erection at your clit and entrance, gathering some of your fluids to lubricate his dick. Slowly, he inched his aching wood inside your pussy. You winced at first but eventually accommodated his thick cock. "That's my good girl, taking me so well." He cooed in your ear, making you tighten around him. He then started to thrust in and out of you, rhythm becoming faster as your moans became more erratic and louder. Your pussy creamed around his cock as you feel pressure pooling in your lower abdomen. Bokuto's grunts grew louder, which turned you on even more. "Babe, I'm gonna--" He rasped out as you felt his cum spilled inside your walls. You came after him with a splintering orgasm, squeezing on his cock even more. Panting, he softly smiled and rested his forehead against yours. "That's my girl."

[spiltscribbles]

You're doing prompts! Yesss you have no idea how happy that makes me cause I love you're writing so so so much its so amazing soo yayyyyyy 🥳🥳 can I request prompt 32? Things you said I wouldn't understand. Maybe some wolfstar? I'm just a slut for your fics so I would probably die if you wrote this. Even if you don't that's fine I never wanna pressure you soo yeah love you 💕💕

~Notes: Gorgeous, this message is literally so fucking kind and I am absolutely SOBBING!!!! You are such a fucking gorgeous soul! And this means the galaxy! And I’m sorry! This screams angst, but I had a really really fucking awful day, so I just wanted to escape with some fluff :( But if you want me to redo I promise I will! Or you can send me another prompt and I’ll write angst! I adore you!!!

.-

A Reblog Is Worth A Thousand Stars  »  Send Me A Prompt  » Things You Said That I Couldn’t Understand

.-

Sirius realizes on an ordinary Tuesday morning as he spills the chocolate chips into the batter of the first batch of flapjacks, that he and his husband of over a decade haven’t had a date night for three months.

Three! Ruddy! Months!

THat’s completely not on! especially considering that now that the twins have entered their terrible twos they’ve barely had any energy at all  to go beyond furtive hand jobs and messy kisses in almost just as long. Sirius misses his bloody husband damn it!

“Daddy?” Angelica asks with owlish eyes  from where she and her younger brother, Teddy, are standing on either side of him with their expectant  plates in hand. “You look peaky.”

“Like you’re gonna puke,” Teddy tacks on helpfully, his ordinarily tawny curls  turning a putrid shade of  green just to emphasize his point. And Sirius silently reminds himself to tell Tonks off for teaching his kid such rude gestures once she gets back from her honeymoon with that Muggle bird of hers.

“Oi, you guys are going to make your old man feel like he’s the Hogwarts squid if you keep on.” Sirius tells them with a soft tug on Angelica’s ponytail and a cluck of a tongue directed towards his son.

“You’re father’s probably still just getting use to the time difference after getting back from the states.”

Sirius straightens up— pulse spiking in that way it always has around Remus ever since they had first begun to go out as fifth years— and spots him padding into the kitchen, beautifully sleep rumpled and cradling a babbling Maeve in one arm, while her twin, Matthew, toddles along side them with a meaty thumb in his mouth. Though he immediately begins sprinting towards Sirius once realizing that he’s finally home from teaching those Americans the newly enhanced defense tactics that the British Aurors have been utilizing to successful degrees.

“THere’s my Matty,” he crows, lifting him up in the air and blowing a raspberry into his belly while the toddler squawks with glee.

“Daddy home! Daddy! Daddy!”

“And he brings with him enough noise to rival the frog choir,” Remus notes absently.

Sirius waggles his tongue over at him, heart stuttering when he watches the morning sun spilling through the wide partition and unspooling golden in Remus’s hair. “You need it, gorgeous, considering you couldn’t wake up to your own ruddy alarm.”

Remus smiles in that abashed way that’s always been more devious than most give him credit for, “It’s the seventh year Ravenclaws, I think they will actually end up giving me an aneurism with how much extra they write in the essays.”

“Alas, I’m too pretty to be a widow,” Sirius sighs, tossing Matthew up in the air once more and cradling him into  his arm before walking over to Remus and dipping down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’ve missed you.”

“You could’ve woken me up you know,” Remus mumbles, shifting from foot to foot while sliding Maeve into her high chair. “The moon’s not til tomorrow night.”

Sirius ducks his head, scratching the back of it with appropriate diffidence. “I just didn’t want to disturb you, love.”

Remus doesn’t catch his eye as he begins to walk over to the counter and brings the other portions of the meal to the table, lips pinched and shoulders stiff. “I’m not a total invalid, Sirius. I could welcome my husband home after a week apart.”

“What’s that mean, Tad?” Teddy asks, oblivious to the undercurrent of hurt in his father’s tone and  energetic as always while scrambling into his own seat around the breakfast nook, wide eyes glowing with that easy mirth that Sirius is thankful every day his children can feel without any lingering ghosts. “A, erm— In—valvid."

“It means your Tad’s a bit brassed off at me, Ted.” Sirius answers for him, affecting a light hearted cadence. "And that I better get round to finishing up breakfast or else he’ll give me that stiff upper lip of his.”

Remus pins him with a glare from over his shoulder while Sirius sets Matthew into his own seat besides his sister, but his features are softened and Sirius knows that it means he’s close to being forgiven.

“Daddy can I have blueberries in mine,” Angelica asks as he returns to the oven.

“Course, jellybean,” Sirius answers, adopting the pet name that Hope had called her granddaughter ever since they had brought her back from the hospital eight years ago. Sirius loved it even more once finding out that it was actually a reference to some sort of Muggle treat that Remus use to eat by the handfuls as a lad.

“OmyChocomydadzee,” Ted yells towards them with a wedge of cheese in his mouth before sticking his fork into the plate of sliced fruit so to waggle it in front of a giggling Maeve.

“Sorry, son, I don’t understand trollish. Or is that some sort of highly advanced Metamorphmagus language that your Aunty Dora has been teaching you on the sly that we lowly, ordinary wizards couldn’t possibly understand?”

Teddy rolls his bright eyes with a huff, swallowing down pointedly before speaking again. “Only chocolate in mine, just like Tad!”

“Manners, Ted, remember please and thank yous.” Remus says, long suffering as he eases down into his own seat and sips from the mug of coffee that Sirius had already prepared for him. “Though yes, I’d like mine to be chocolate too, Sirius, if you’re taking orders.”

Sirius grins indulgently at them before peering down to his eldest. “Angie darling, what shall we do with their teeth once they fall out from all that sugar?”

Angelica laughs glowingly, and Sirius brushes back her chestnut bangs with a reverent hand.”The snow warlock outdoors could use it since he’s only got a carrot nose after Matty ate the chocolate frogs we were s’pose to  use for his smile.”

“Brilliant!”

.-

After they’ve all eaten, Teddy and Angelica race outside to await the Potters amidst shouts of “Shut your trap,” from a peeved off Teddy every time Angelica taunts him over his crush on Effie, and the twins dig into their toy chest in the living room while Sirius and Remus spell away the mess that always ensues after a meal with the Lupin-Blacks.

“Andromeda wants us to bring the Christmas pudding this year,” Remus idly tells Sirius while he enchants the dishes to begin washing themselves with a graceful flick of his wand. Remus ordinarily prefers cleaning them by hand, so Sirius has an inkling that the impending full moon has already  begun aching in his bones. Merlin’s saggy bollocks does he wish this new, experimental potion would just escape the bureaucracy of the Ministry so that the man who is his other half could at least have a small relief.

“Is that along with the wine and fresh cranberry sauce she’s asked for?” Sirius says, saddling up behind Remus, bending slightly so to nuzzle his nose along the hollow of his long neck.

“Mmm, she thought you might say that, and wanted to kindly remind you that she carried a set of twins for us when she was forty even though we promised that Ted would be the last sprog.”

“Pff, as if I’d let potter outdo us.”

“We definitely didn’t let that happen,” Remus snorts. “The twins and Pip will surely be the next generation Marauders, God save Minerva.”

“Exactly!” Sirius sneers, locking his arms around Remus’s torso. “Besides ’s not like it’s our fault Meda’s bloody eggs decided on a two for one deal.”

Remus stifles a laugh, leaning back into the embrace and setting his hand over Sirius’s where he’s begun thumbing small circles against his abdomen. “Yes, well if you’d like to have that argument with her?”

“Oh, she’s full of it. I know that the twins are her favorites, spoils them rotten I tell you Moons.”

“Well it’s hard not to with such cute faces,” Remus says, turning his head slightly so to peer over at the pair of them through the doorway. Maeve is munching on the leg of her barbie and Matthew is clashing together pieces of two completely contradictory puzzles. Sirius swears that his chest might implode with the love he feels for his chaotic, little family.

“Course they’re cute, Moons,” he says loftily instead of the incredibly sappy emotions that are flooding his insides. “They’re are kids, cute is in the genes.”

“Cocky bastard,” Remus snorts before turning around in his arms and kissing him full on the mouth. And yes, the sight of Remus curled around the latest essay he’s meant to be marking up with the baby monitor for the twins’s room clutched in his left fist, was an absolute heavenly sight, but Sirius thinks this more hands on approach is a much more appropriate welcome after dealing with an ocean between them and six nights apart.

“Mmm, does this mean I’m not in the dog house anymore?” Sirius asks hopefully, trailing a path of kisses along Remus’s jawline and stopping at the hinge where it meets his neck so to suck only slightly, reveling in the beautifully familiar taste of his husband.

“You were never in the dog house you daft mutt,” Remus reproves in a voice that could’ve been caustic if it weren’t for his words going breathy half way through and his hands clutching tightly onto Sirius’s shoulders. “’S just— Just… Nothing.”

Sirius feels his stomach twist, pulling off of him with a scowl set on his face, and refusing for Remus to just brush this aside, the way he’s always want to do instead of talking about anything that actually might be hurting him. Like he’s afraid that his sodding feelings are somehow a burden, the self-possessed bastard.

“Tell me,” he intones, brooking no arguments while he gently takes Remus’s face in hand so he can’t look away.

His gorgeous features twist up, indignant and mulish, but they relax almost just as quickly, a defense tactic that’s melt away almost completely after so long of being intwined with one another in the most intimate of ways.

“Sirius, there was a time that you could hardly keep your hands off of me after being away for less than half as long,” Remus tells him, voice wavering only slightly. “And I understand if it’s getting tiring having to parent around the moon’s schedule—“

“What the bloody fuck are you talking about,” Sirius really meant to listen to him all the way through, he did! But he can’t help just how furious he got at the sound of that absolutely ridiculous conclusion Remus has somehow conjured up in his impossible mind. Positively hates how this is still such a point of sensitivity Remus has when it regards to their relationship.

“Sirius—“

“Don’t be a completely idiotic arse, Lupin!” Sirius very nearly shouts, absolutely broiling. “You are the love of my life, and I wouldn’t change a single sodding thing about us! And I swear to Merlin or Morgana or whoever the fuck else, that if you begin speaking such rubbish again, I’ll have to lock you up in our bedroom, and show you just how intensely I mean that.”

Remus’s face has gone flushed throughout Sirius’s diatribe, and his hazel eyes twinkle with that adoring way of his that always makes Sirius’s heart lodge somewhere in his diaphragm. “Lupin-Black.”

“Pardon?”

“You called me Lupin, it’s Lupin-Black now, has been for quite a while.”

Sirius chuckles lowly, feeling his righteous anger  deflate as  he crowds Remus against the kitchen island and presses their foreheads together. “You done being a senseless sod then?”

Remus locks his hands around Sirius’s neck, kisses his cupids bow with a tender earnestness. “You still could’ve woken me up.”

“I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t be exhausted for tomorrow, love.” Sirius reiterates, kissing him with feeling before pulling apart once more. “Though if I’m being totally honest,  I would’ve liked it if you could’ve wanked me off in hello.”

“That’s all you would’ve wanted?” Remus asks smugly, the tip of his index finger tracing idl patterns  against Sirius’s neck.

“Mmm, don’t tease me, Moony.” Sirius tells him before sharing another snog. “I was just thinking earlier on that it’s been three ruddy months since I’ve had you to myself for the entire night.””

Remus’s smile brightens, “Oh yeah? You’ve missed that have you?” He bucks forwards, and Sirius can feel him pressed completely against his front.

“I think I might go mad very, very soon, Mssr Moony if we don’t correct this most awful of grievances.”

Remus laughs fondly, kissing the tip of his nose with a smile on his face. “Well I reckon that the twins are old enough to sleep through the night, and Grandma Lupin is always asking after them.”

Sirius brightens ten fold, “Really?”

“I’m sure the kids won’t mind spending an extended weekend on the Welsh coast.” Remus nods.

“Right, good. Yes! Let’s use that tellamabob thing.”

“But the kitchen’s still a mess.”

“Remus, please have mercy on me,” Sirius begs with his best pleading look until his husband finally relents in that worldweary way of his, even if it’s him who snatches Sirius’s wrist and drags him to that muggle contraption, an excited jittering to his grasp all the while.

Sirius is irrecoverably in love with such a bellend.

~*~

My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

[darkfairy-tales]

Insanity - Chapter 1

Description: She was an angel who came across the devil himself and her existence drove him insane.

Pairing: Sangyeon x Reader

Genre: Mafia au

Warning: Mentions of blood. Swearing.

"Shouldn't have stayed long! Shouldn't have helped Minsu. Should have gone home earlier. God why is it so dark." You ranted to yourself as you closed down the cafe and looked up at the sky. The moon was mostly covered by some cloud and only few little stars were there. You sighed. The lack of moonlight and the lack of proper lightning on the streets made everything so creepy. On top of that it was really late for you. You were jalf glad that you didn't stayed with your parents. Oh they would have given you a whole speech on how dangerous it is if you ever got back home to them late at night. The cafe you worked at was owned by Minsu's family. She was your bestfriend. She was usually the one who closed down the shop at the end of the day which was usually at around 10:30pm. For her it was nothing as her house was just a block away. But your house was a little far. She had a date tonight and had literally begged you to close down for her for the night. You had agreed even though you were a little hesitant. You weren't a fan of staying out till late. Putting the keys inside your bag and your phone in your hand you started walking down the streets. Your breath hitching everytime you heard some sort of noise. You completely stilled in front of an narrow alleyway which was dark when you heard a hush voice. "Fuck fuck fuck." You heard someone curse with a groan in a hush voice. You gulped willing yourself to not look at the dark. You walked forwards gripping your phone.

'What if it is someone who needs my help? What if someone is in dire need of help and if I just walk away they might get hurt and fuck it would be my fault.' You thought to yourself. "Oh screw this!" You groaned stomping your foot on the concrete. You turned back and walked inside the dark alley turning the torch of your phone on using it as the source of light to guide you. "H-Hello! Is anyone here?" You called out shivering. You looked at each side to see who it was. You almost stopped breathing when your eyes fell on a guy. He was... handsome. Sharp features. And you would have commented on it if it weren't for the fact that the guy was literally a stranger, in a dark alley with you and had what seemed like a gun shot wound with blood dripping out. You squeaked. 'Gunshot wound!' you screamed internally. The guy had also looked up at you. He looked surprised and alarmed. "Who the fuck are you?" The guy literally snarled. You stepped back a little. You turned around planning to run away but stopped. "Fuck I can't leave you here." You mumbled. You walked up towards the guy. "Mr. uh sh-should I call an ambulance. Oh my god shit you are... you are loosing too much blood." You rambled. "Don't fucking dare call an ambulance. I can't go to hospital or shit." He growled. "What do I do then! You can't die." You hissed. He looks at you oddly. "Why do you care?" He asked narrowing his eyes at you. "I can't.. I can't just leave someone bleeding out here like this! I am not cruel enough to do that. And if you died here I will be guilty till the day I die." You deadpanned.

"You need medical help. You are l-loosing too much blood Mr." You said. "I said I can't go to hospital." He hissed. You sighed as you took off your bag, opening it. Your pulled out your scarf. 'I am sorry dear beautiful scarf.' "Put your hands away." You said. "What are you trying to do?" He asked not moving his hands at all. "Help. So that you don't die." You said as you pulled his hands away from the wound. You used your scarf to press against the wound. Looking down at the wound seriously. "I am Y/N." You said shortly. You weren't sure why you felt the need to introduce yourself but you did. "Sangyeon. I guess you at least deserve to know my name." He says cockily making you click your tongue. "Press it against the wound. Don't let yourself bleed out too much." You said and he followed your instruction. "Is there anyone you can call? Like anyone who can help you." You asked as you stood in front of him. He smirks looking right into your eyes. "Pretty girls like you shouldn't run after me." He says in a low voice. He couldn't believe how stubborn you were. He sat leaning against the dirty wall of the alley, a gunshot wound on his side.

If it was someone else they would have ran away or called police. But you. You were different. You didn't even knew him yet you were so willing to help him. Sangyeon wasn't so sure if you were too kind for your own good or just plain stupid. You were just like an innocent angel while he was a devil. You weren't supposed to be here. And totally not supposed to try help him. "Give me your phone." He says. You were hesitant but still handed it to him. You saw him dial a number and tap 'call' button. "Sunwoo. Listen. Come to where I am. Yes I am fine! Well as fine as a person who has been shot is." Sangyeon grumbled. He pauses as he listens closesly whatever the other man was saying. He looked up at you making you look away feeling a little shy. "Come fast. I don't know if they are still after me." He says pulling away the phone and ending the call. "You realize you didn't tell the guy where you are." You sassed. "They can track me. Don't worry your pretty little head." He says chuckling. "Are you... really fine?" You asked a bit concerned noticing how he seem to have gotten a bit pale. "I will be fine sweetheart. But I think you should run away at the moment. My men are coming and I don't think they would really appreciate your presence." Sangyeon says.

You bit your lips feeling hesitant but also dying to go home. There were blood on your hand and you were desperate to wash it away. "Okay fine I will... I will go. Give me my phone." You says putting your hands out. "I can't. I have to keep it with myself. My men are going to be tracking your phone to find me so I need it. I will give it back to you soon." He says. You look at him eith your mouths open. "B-but my phone-" You stuttered but stopped. "No can do sweet heart. Now now run. You should go fast." He says with a smirk. You weren't sure if your heart was beating so fast because you were scared or because of the fact that this sangyeon guy, whatever he was, was so so charming and not to forget beautiful. "Take care." It's the last words you say as you gripped your bag, turning around and walking out of the alley. You literally ran towards your house. Shortly after a while you reached there. You huffed as you tried to take deep breathes in feeling the lack of oxygen with how fast you ran and how choked up you felt. You unlocked the door, your hands shaking while doing so. You carefully walked inside the house and into your room. You went to the bathroom directly. "W-why the hell this doesn't go away fast!" You whisper yelled as you rinsed your hands under the water wiping the blood away. After rinsing away all the blood carefully you washed your face and changed into your PJs, flopping down on the bed immediately. Too tired. You mind was a mess. Your heart was still beating fast. That night you dreamed of guns, blood and a certain guy names Sangyeon.

[Next Day]

The next day you woke up early and got ready to to the cafe to open it as the key was with you. Minsu comes to the cafe a few minutes after you had opened up the cafe and were setting up some things. "Y/N!!! I had such an amazing night! Younghoon is such a damn nice guy! He asked for a second date and I agreed. And what the hell! Why did you pick up my calls! I kept calling you last night. Because I wanted to thank you again and also make sure you were okay." Minsu rambles. You gulp. "U-Uh I lost my phone yesterday on my way back to home. Tried to find but I couldn't. Maybe someone took it." You lied. Minsu gasped. "You need to get a new one then! I mean without phone how can we even keep in touch with each other." She says. You chuckled at her. "Yes yes I will. For now let's finish setting up everything. Customers are going to start coming in." You said as you walked at the back to prepare a drink for you and Minsu.

'I hope he is fine.' You found yourself thinking about Sangyeon while making the drink. "Aish why am I even thinking about him?" You asked yourself. "Him? Who is this 'him' huh? A boyfriend perhaps?" Minsu says smiling sheepishly as she approached you. You alnost choked on air at her words. "No one! I was talking about... about my idols! Kai hurt his foot again and I am worried and I keep thinking about him!" You blurted out an excuse. Before Minsu could ask more there was a sound of bells jingling as a customer entered and you were thankful as it stopped Minsu from asking something more. She walks out to greet the customer, leaving you again. You just couldn't tell Minsu about the guy from last night. She will freak out and might end up calling police for all you knew. You sighed to yourself looking outside to see another customer walk in. "It's gonna be a long day~" You mumbled to yourself as you went out to take orders. Hopefully you wouldn't be worrying and thinking about the Sangyeon guy the whole day.

Trailer || Next Chapter

Hello everyone! I am so sorry it took so much time to update this! But yayy my exan finally ended and I can finally post more now! I hope you enjoyed reading this. Don't forget to like and reblog! I will try to post as fast as I can again!

Love you all~ Buiii ♪ ♬ ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ ♬ ♪ ❤❤

[curiousconch]

Escape

Chapter 8 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Heather attempts to escape her captors. But will she succeed?

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 1.5k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / violence, language

Author's Notes: This chapter took me too long to complete, since I hit a creative block. Grateful for @eleanorbloom for giving me tips to overcome it (thank you! 🥰🥰🥰)

Thank you so much for taking time to read/comment/reblog this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.

Heather held her tears at bay. Frankly, all she wanted was to let herself go.

But she can't. She didn't want to give her captors the satisfaction of seeing her break. When Declan Nash removed her blindfold, he thought it was enough to pulverize her will. Heather was determined to prove him wrong.

"I'll pick up the second dose. Start on getting rid of the pretty doctor first," she heard Nash say to the other man, right before he left.

She watched closely as another man approached her, his features slowly revealed by the dim light surrounding them. The hair at the back of her neck stood up when she recognized the face of her kidnapper.

Jordan Peter Anderson, the Edenbrook janitor. Pete, as he was mainly known.

Suddenly, it all made sense. That's how he had access to her things, how he can easily know her home address, her schedule, all details of her life without suspicion. He was just another face in the sea of people that came in and out of the hospital. A fairly common and trusted face, at that.

She just wondered how Declan was connected to him. She wanted so much to find out. But now, she had to focus on preventing herself from whimpering as Pete violently dragged her to sit on a chair. He tugged her wrists free before slamming them on a metal table. She instantly winced with the impact.

That was when she saw the back of her hand, where an IV cannula was attached to an exposed vein.

What the hell was he planning?

She found the answer sooner than she thought.

She followed his movement with her eyes as he picked up a syringe from a nearby table. It was filled with a clear liquid.

"I take it you're familiar with potassium chloride, Dr. Song?" The janitor sneered as she gazed in terror at what he was holding.

She knew. Potassium chloride overdose can cause cardiac arrest when administered via IV, and in overdose, was fatal. Her mind raced with comprehension.

He's out to kill. He's not going to spare me. This isn't just a game. Her mouth went dry, refusing to accept the possibility that she may not live another day.

Her hazel eyes can only stare at the man who was about to murder her. For a moment, she was filled with helplessness, the tiny semblance of hope in her quickly dwindling out.

No! I'll overcome this. This won't be the end of me. She willed herself to think. Heather Song is one hell of a woman and she won't come down without a fight.

When he was just a single step away from her, inspiration struck.

As he reached for her, she leaned her head back, waiting for the perfect timing. Once he was near enough, she braced for impact and gave him a headbutt. He fell down to the ground, howling in pain. Heather took the opportunity to flee, liberating herself from the chair.

As she tried to take off, a struggle ensued. She was instantly dragged backwards, the force nearly knocking her out. She felt a sharp prick on her neck before she turned and kicked the man on the groin.

He wailed. Heather didn't wait for him to recover and ran for her life, fear and desperation egging her on. Her bare feet heavily hit upon the concrete floor, as she removed the gag from her mouth.

"HELP! Someone, please help me!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, sprinting. Her bruised arms pushed back against the plastic tarps and navigated the narrow corridor blindly.

Soon, she saw an open threshold nearby. She decided to aim for it. When she was almost there, someone grabbed her from behind, making her scream. She strained to break free from the hold, only to be pulled back again.

"Heather," a voice urged. "Heather, it's me!"

She recognized the speaker, making her stop in her tracks. She turned around and looked back into the dark brown eyes of the man in front of her.

Rafael.

At the sight of him, an overwhelming sense of relief flooded her being. She leaned onto him, feeling his strong presence encapsulate her in a tight embrace.

As the panicked adrenaline to fight for her life slowly dissipated, a rush of tears stained Heather's cheeks like an overflowing dam. So she clung to him, convincing herself that she wasn't imagining him and that her whole ordeal has ended.

"It's okay, love. I'm here, you're safe." Raf whispered, his lips kissing the crown of her head.

But she wasn't.

She felt her knees begin to buckle, her whole body shook. There was a sharp pain in her chest, while her vision of Rafael slowly blurred.

The last thing she could remember was the gentleness of his touch, before her world whirled and faded into darkness.

***

He can only watch the helicopter that airlifted Heather to Edenbrook Hospital. When she was found, a syringe was stuck on her neck, and the paramedics suspected a type of poisoning. Her sudden collapse and the  unknown nature of what caused made the situation urgent, so the response team decided it was best course to fly. 

Even though he yearned to accompany her as she fought for her life, he was hastily denied that right. Rafael seized that away from him, taking it upon himself to stay with her instead.

He wanted to be the first person she sees when she wakes up, to hold her hand, to assure her that she will never have to face horrors like this anymore. But fate wasn't on his side this time. It never was. 

So Bryce chose action. He first called in ahead to give Dr. Ramsey the few details they have on hand. He couldn't bring himself to follow her to the hospital. His mind dictated that he wasn't useful there. Instead, he made himself useful somewhere else. 

And there he was, standing in the middle of the crime scene as he hang up his phone. 

Here is where I can help Heather, he thought. I have to find what was in that syringe. It might be her only hope. 

His tired eyes scanned the floor, trying to pick up any detail that may be valuable. He walked around looking down, flashlight in hand, determined to find just about any kind of clue. 

He winced when he saw blood. Heather's. His chest tightened, anger rising within him. That fucking sicko, I swear I'm gonna give him hell. 

Bryce continued prodding around until he heard a soft jingling noise, making him stop. It felt like he just kicked something. He knelt down and found a torn plastic case and a clear glass bottle. He put on his rubber gloves and picked it up, reading the label. Realizing what it was, he quickly dialed Sienna's number and waited for her to pick up. 

"Bryce?" he heard a familiar voice on the line, but it wasn't Dr. Trinh. 

"Jackie?" he felt an immediate pang of worry, hearing the frantic exchange of voices in the background. But he quickly shook the feeling away. He had to focus.

"I found something that might help Heather. There's a bottle of potassium chloride where she was taken, it's empty. I think that's what the suspect injected Heather with."

"Gimme a second," Jackie said. Bryce waited as he listened to Dr. Varma ask for Heather's blood workup from a nurse. "Her potassium levels are elevated, and she's in cardiac arrest. This makes sense, Lahela." 

"She's in cardiac arrest?" A lump in his throat formed, his grip almost slipping from the bottle he was holding. 

"Yes. But we're trying to get her out of it. Your intel's gonna help us figure the rest out," Jackie said, and he sensed her hesitation before he heard her next words. "She'll pull through. So quit yapping and get your ass over here."

The line went dead. 

It took him five minutes to scale down the building, get into his car and hit the road.

***

The environment in the ER was charged by the frantic beeping of the machine, signalling Heather's ongoing cardiac arrest. 

"We've got suspected hyperkalemia," Jackie sprinted to the doctors surrounding Heather's limp body as she got off the phone. 

"Of course," Dr. Ramsey nodded, as he referred to the latest lab results. "A potassium chloride overdose would've caused her coronary infarction. It may have also caused her temporal paralysis, making her lose consciousness. Do we have her weight?" 

"Yes, Dr. Ramsey," Sienna dictated Heather's latest weight to the senior attending, allowing for him to compute for the correct dosage for the prescription. 

"Calcium bicarbonate for the IV, Kaley please," the male doctor handed a piece of paper where he scribbled the dosage needed. 

"Don't we need to do haemodialysis?" Jackie stood beside him, as she prepared a tourniquet and tried to find a vein where the saline solution can be injected. 

"No, we aren't too late, the potassium haven't bound to the cells yet. Watch out for other symptoms though," Like a well-oiled machine, Heather's mentor gave instructions rapidly, taking the lead role in her treatment. 

The nurse went back with the prescription and Jackie setup the insertion. As the liquid began to flow, they waited and watched the heart rate monitor overhead. 

It took a few seconds before the beeping slowed down into a steady rhythm. There was a collective sigh of relief.

Heather Song just narrowly escaped death. 

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[fair-fae]

You know, I'm not a drama person, I don't like it, but it came up on my dash so much that I kind of had to read it. All of that nonsense could've been avoided if you didn't even take it to the public. Judging people for THEIR characters that THEY made and can do WHATEVER the hell they want with them? Oh woo ho good job, you're so popular for taking the "barrage" of it. No. all it did was prove that you're a D-bag and I've got a nice, long list of people to block now and avoid contact with.

Okay, anon. I haven’t bothered setting the record straight with most of this shit, because I know folks like you will continue to believe what you want to believe and hear what you want to hear, just like you’re doing now. But I’ll bite. You’d think all of you getting onto your soapbox about how you shouldn’t judge or attack others wouldn’t keep talking shit about a situation you know nothing about and/or are terribly misinformed about. So I’ll enlighten you with what actually happened.

A while back, the person in question got into an argument with some people on the RPC, trying to tell them that their interpretation of the lore was wrong. Rather than leaving it at that, when he effectively got shut down there, he proceeded to take a screenshot of the conversation and post it on his tumblr, complete with a rant about the people who disagreed with him, their opinions are so wrong and awful, how dare they disagree with him, etc. essentially playing the victim when he was the one to try to badger them for their opinions in the first place. He also left their names, icons, signatures, etc. in full view.I responded and told him he probably shouldn’t be trying to harass any other people about the lore considering his own character concept (thus, you would think, making my opinion on his character pretty clear). Why? Because it’s fucking true.I don’t give a shit about the lore or whether anyone follows it. Probably every single one of my own characters at least bends the lore. But at least have the self-awareness and respect for your fellow role-players to say “yeah, my character breaks the lore” or not get your jimmies rustled every time someone says “oh, yeah, his character is lore breaking.” You wanna break the lore? Cool. Own up to it. And if you do break the lore, don’t try to force everyone else into following it–especially when you can’t even admit you break lore and instead stretch the lore to try so hard to justify your entirely lore-breaking character concept. Don’t try to heckle people for presumably doing what you do but won’t admit. Granted, these people weren’t even breaking lore anyway, which makes his insistence that they were even more ridiculous.So after some excuses about how he was trying to start some intellectual discussion or something and not just drag these people despite featuring their identities and primarily just complaining about them throughout the post, he admitted he should have at least edited out their names and apologized. Great! You’d think that should be the end of it. I didn’t have anything against him at that point, but also had no desire/reason to associate with him, so I didn’t. A couple months go by. Some post comes across my dash. A girl in the community is doxxing her online ex-boyfriend in a callout post about him for unexpectedly breaking up with her because she “thinks” he was lying to her about serious issues and “believes” he was cheating on her. Because I’m a loud and opinionated person, and because that’s some heinous thing to do, I spoke out against it (via a post on my own blog without naming names, mind you, because I’m not going to hijack someone else’s post with negativity or call them out by name). The girl found it, assumed it was about herself, flipped out, and then of course I was the bad guy for saying doxxing isn’t okay. And then the person in question joins in. Not even to discuss the topic at hand, but to dredge up the old drama about how I was so mean to him and he did nothing wrong, etc. A pretty crappy 180 turn for a person who apologized and made it seem like there were no hard feelings, but whatever. Someone saw that he obviously didn’t like me, and seized the chance to try to talk shit and spread rumors because they knew he’d give them the platform. They sent him some anon about how I hate women (lmao). And of course, he published it, with no skepticism or disagreement, only more commentary about how I’m mean and awful. I went to respond, only to find myself blocked. So I went on about my life because it’s not that big of a deal, but hey. The moment you talk shit about me, especially in a venue where I can’t respond, especially facilitating some lies and BS rumors, especially after leading me to believe we’d made amends–you aren’t off limits. You don’t get spared niceness and politeness. Is that mean and petty? Probably.¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve never claimed to be a nice person.Now, to the horrible, awful thing I did to make this “public.” Fast forward to yesterday. I’d kept my mouth shut and left him alone. In a section of the RPC that doesn’t get a ton of traffic, largely because you have to make an account on the website and then manually opt in to this specific forum, several of us were discussing an absolutely awful person which is an unrelated story I won’t get into. Someone asked something along the lines of, “Are you guys talking about Underaged Looking Allagan Voidsent Chimera Demon Guy?” I responded with basically “No, we’re not talking about Underaged Looking Allagan Voidsent Chimera Demon Guy.” And that was it. We moved on with the conversation because he wasn’t who we’d been talking about. His name, tumblr, server info, in game race, class, etc. was all never given. No identifiable information beyond a very brief and tongue-in-cheek description of his RP character comprised of words taken directly from his own wiki, tumblr info, talk of his own character and RP posts.Someone saw the conversation, and based on our intentionally shitty description, was able to accurately guess who we were talking about and send him an anon to tell him about it. You’d think that would be pretty telling about his own RP, and this anon’s interpretation of it. He answered the anon in a long rant about me that featured both my in game name and my tumblr handle. In case you need me to spell this out for you, he went public with it first. I’ll also remind you that I was blocked, so I wasn’t/couldn’t be following him, and I was not properly @tagged in this rant, so I never would have seen it unless someone told/linked me, or someone I follow eventually reblogged it. And I honestly can’t imagine the level of narcissism it takes to write a long personal post full of wangst and victim-playing every time you hear a person had something negative to say about you or your RP character (not even by name–and by picking words from his own descriptions of his character), especially a person you have had issues with in the past and who you openly shit-talked yourself prior. Who does that? Lord knows my blog would be overflowing. Not everyone will like you, especially not people you jabbed at first. Especially not with an off the wall RP concept. Especially not with you trying to pass that concept is lore abiding and just “unusual.” Especially not with you trying to tell other people they’re “wrong” about the lore. Especially not with your character being a squicky, walking fetish and immortal jailbait. And that’s not even touching other things people have told me about this person that rubbed them the wrong way. Move on with your life.However, I found out about the post thanks to the OP himself when he unblocked me just to send me the link to the post and then before I could even read/respond to the post, sent me a barrage of IM’s still playing the innocent victim which is grating enough on its own but also included him straight up lying about ever posting/saying anything about me, insisting he’d done nothing to me, had nothing against me, this was so out of the blue and uncalled for, etc. When I pointed out this wasn’t the case, that I had seen and read the posts firsthand because blocking me doesn’t prevent me from seeing his posts, he began to lie instead about the contents of said posts and pulled some gaslighting bullshit about how I had just “misread” them, all the while either willfully or coincidentally not seeming to understand anything I said to him (I mentioned him publishing the anon about how I hate women at least twice and the response was always “I never said you hate women!!” Well no shit). He kept insisting that I had “gone behind his back” and that if I had a problem I should “say it to his face” despite the fact he’d had me blocked and that I’m not a douchey enough person to try to contact him despite that, and despite the fact that he had “gone behind my back” and not “said it to my face” twice now prior, and had done just that with his post about the folks from the RPC as well.He also insisted that the tumblr post was meant just to innocently “bring the issue to my attention to clear things up” despite me having no way to see it on my own unless by coincidence, and despite him proving to be willing and able to send me IM’s instead, which you’d think could render the need for a public post moot. When I pointed this out, he promptly deleted the post, lest anyone else see through his bullshit to what he was really trying to do.After my initial response to his wall of IM’s, he sent another wall this time with more insults and accusations, and promptly blocked me so I couldn’t respond. So yes, I made a vaguepost, I know, how awful, how dare I. A vague post vague enough that only someone who had seen his post, or who heard about it from him otherwise, would know who and what it was referencing. Until he responded to it himself, that is and unblocked me again to send me more angry messages to which I responded by permanently blocking him instead because this game of blocking and unblocking sure was getting old.Cue his charming friends sweeping in to tell me to eat a dick, making false accusations against my RP partner and I, sending me threats on Discord, telling people I flashed my breasts for money, etc. And the other person? The one who brought him up in the first place who I had only been responding to? Whose name he was given, was aired in the same public post on his blog as mine? As far as I know, she hasn’t gotten any hate, probably not a single message. And I’m glad, because she shouldn’t get any, she doesn’t deserve it. But at the same time, sure seems sketchy that the person who did the same exact thing as me–and who did it first–has not provoked anyone’s ire, not even been messaged. The public post in reply to the anon who named her, even, was aimed 100% at me. Now isn’t that funny. It’s almost like this was an excuse for people who already had beef with me to try to take shots at me and pretend it was justified. It’s almost like all you anon keyboard warriors don’t even know how this started or what actually happened.And now I’m going to talk about something else. You cannot do “whatever the hell you want” with your character. RP is a two-way (or more) street. There is a real person behind each and every character. These people are looking for fun just like you, and are every bit as deserving, and your fun shouldn’t impede on theirs. We are all allowed equal parts of fun.So when people play their weird ass lolicon/shotacon/pedobait characters, who is having fun? What if the other person in the RP was sexually abused as a child and you’re dredging up terrible old memories for them and making light of their pain? What if they’re a parent worried for their child, or worse, the parent of a child who’s already been abused? What if they’re an actual pedophile and seeing you RP this is tempting them, making them think they’re desires are normal and okay? Hell, what if they’re a goddamn ordinary person who finds it creepy and uncomfortable?What if the fetishized, futa ERP avatar is interacting with someone who is trans or nonbinary or intersex IRL? What if it’s triggering them (in the genuine, real sense of the word)? What if the walking affront against the lore character talking about being an Voidsent Half-Primal Garlean Spy in the middle of the Quicksand is ruining everyone’s immersion–particularly when they refuse to play along as others respond realistically IC and try to kill them or arrest them or kick them out? What if the OP af infinitely-stronger-than-everyone-else-around-him character is making the RP unfun for every other RPer involved because their characters can’t do anything but get beaten up or bow to his whims unless they stoop to godmodding or suddenly beefing up their own character?People can and will judge your character. Those judgments are usually best left kept themselves or quietly shared between trustworthy friends. But when your character trespasses on the OOC fun of the role-players around you? Sorry, my guy, people have every right to speak up. And all this nonsense? All this nonsense was a small handful of people who were already pretty nasty showing their true colors and getting told to pipe the fuck down. A pretty good outcome, if you ask me. So, please, block me, anon. My life will be better without idiots like you in it, and the same probably goes for anyone else you intend to block. Your nameless, ignorant, anonymous presence will not be missed–or noticed, for that matter.