#I did pull out the plug for my charger and then plug it back in…maybe that’s why???hopefully that’s why

[sharktistic]

the bitlocker on my laptop activated randomly but before I could even input my recovery key, it booted itself up again like normal. Now I’m a little annxious about my pc. Gulp

[amnxp]

Hold me, please pt.2

Pairing: Joaquin x Semi!Avenger!reader

Summary: You start to wonder if what you two had is truly salvagaeble.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: Arguments, tending injuries

A/N: The second part of Hold me, Please! Many people asked for another part so here it is. I hope you enjoyed it as much as you did Pt.1! And Thank you so much for all the support i loved all your messages!!:))))

!English is not my native Language!

It took some time before you had actually calmed down after your fight. You had stormed off to your apartment after the argument with Joaquin, crashed on the couch, and whined as your body screamed at you in excruciating pain to finally just shut down.

After five minutes of lying down, you were already out cold.

By the time you woke up, the sun was already out and birds had started to chirp. You looked around to find your phone, but it was discarded on the table near your door, and your body was just begging you to stay in one place—maybe you’d magically piece yourself back together. A deep sigh escaped you as you tilted your head back and—damn it. Damn you, Joaquin, and your stupid-ass hero complex.

You turned to look at your phone before grabbing the arm of the couch to pull yourself up. You let out a grunt as you stood up slowly. Once you were on your feet, the pain from yesterday came back tenfold. It felt like someone had run you over with a damn truck—and then reversed back over you. You exhaled through your nose and tried to take a few steps toward your phone. It took a pathetically long time to reach a phone that was only a few feet away, but at least you made it without collapsing. You tried to turn it on, but nothing happened. Battery must be dead. “Shit,” you muttered. How exhausted had you been after that fight?

You looked around your living room, trying to find a charger. It took a full ten minutes to find one and plug your phone in. Then you moved slowly toward the bathroom. Maybe a shower would help calm your body down a little. Besides, your bandages had been completely soaked through with blood, and you needed to change them.

You turned on the water and filled the tub with a decent temperature before stripping off your clothes and lying down in the water. By the time you finished your shower—which took over an hour because you simply couldn’t move any faster—the once-clear water had turned murky and bright red.

You put on a pair of panties and a baggy t-shirt you had most likely stolen from Joaquin’s closet. Sitting down on the toilet lid, you grabbed your first aid kit and pulled your shirt up. Since the mission, your hand hadn’t stopped shaking uncontrollably, and it was starting to annoy you—you couldn’t even hold your phone without nearly dropping it. So maybe pulling a needle near your skin wasn’t your wisest choice. But did you have any other?

Quite frankly, no. And you definitely weren’t calling Joaquin to come do it for you. You bit down on your shirt to hold it up. One hand pulled your skin taut while the other—slightly more stable—held the needle. You inhaled deeply before attempting to pierce your skin. But the needle fell out of your hand and onto the bathroom floor because of an abrupt phone call you seemed to be getting.

You looked over to your phone on the sink and saw that it was Sam. You leaned over and grabbed it.

“You planning on sending me on another mission, Wilson?” your tone came out far more annoyed than you intended.

“Can you come home?” a voice far different from Sam’s replied, and you immediately recognized it as Joaquin’s.

“Baby, please, I am so, so—” You didn’t let him finish. You hung up and placed your now-muted phone face down on the sink to avoid seeing any more calls. You picked the needle back up from the floor before tossing it into the trash behind you and reaching for a new one from the first aid kit. You let out a deep sigh and quickly realized this entire attempt was pointless. You slapped a bandage on your skin before standing up.

You really needed something to eat.

An hour—maybe two—later, you finally managed to make yourself a small meal. Just as you sat down, your doorbell rang.

“Motherfucking bastard,” you cursed, making your way to the door. It rang two or three more times.

“Give me a fucking second!”

You opened the door only to see Joaquin standing in front of you, heavily out of breath, hair tousled, clothes disheveled.

“Listen to me, please,” he pleaded. As you went to close the door, he stuck his foot between the gap and let himself in. You rolled your eyes and gestured for him to close the door behind him.

“Okay then. Let’s hear it, Joaquin. What’s the master excuse and apology you came up with?”

“Baby, baby please. I’m sorry. I know it was too much, and of course you didn’t plan this at all, and I’m just—I don’t—listen, I can’t even—”

He kept stumbling over his sentences, the more he realized none of it was registering in your mind.

You blinked, and suddenly he was in front of you, squatting down slowly to be at eye level. The table with your food was behind him, most likely digging into his back. That couldn’t be comfortable, especially since you knew he had a wound there from his own mission.

You sighed as he kept babbling, then grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the couch next to you. Yes, you were mad at him, but that didn’t mean you wanted him in more pain. You felt one of his hands cradle the side of your face, pushing your hair back before weaving into it. You turned to look at him.

“I am so sorry. I never wanted to yell at you. I don’t even know why I said what I did—I don’t even remember. It’s just… you were there. I held you in the morning. I kissed you. You were warm and so happy and so just… you. And the next second, there was blood everywhere and you were— you were so cold.” His voice broke toward the end, coming out as a whisper. You saw how hard he was trying to hold himself together.

“Oh… baby,” you mumbled as you threw yourself into his arms. He immediately hugged you back—one arm tight around your waist, the other at the back of your head. His face was buried in the crook of your neck as he whispered “I’m sorry” into your skin over and over.

Your feelings, just like his, were all over the place. You didn’t know whether to still be mad at him or feel empathy because, at the end of the day, you felt that same grief and fear when Sam had called you from the hospital to say Joaquin was there. Your shaky hand cradled his face as you pulled slightly away from him. You let out a sigh before placing a longing kiss on his lips. Neither of you pulled away until you started to feel suffocated. Even then, he chased after your lips, kissing you again and again until you had to place your hand on his mouth to stop him.

“I can’t breathe anymore, Joaquin,” you said, slightly out of breath.

He pressed his forehead to yours.

“Can you forgive me? I’m so sorry. I’ll never say anything like that ever again, *mi amor.* I promise.”

“I’m still mad at you, Joaquin. And I need you to know that what you said hurt me—it wasn’t fair to me at all. Do you understand?”

He said nothing, only nodded against your forehead.

You hoped he meant it.

[togenabi]

my home is where your heart is

inumaki toge x reader

♡—your things keep winding up in toge's place, and his things in yours. what are you going to do about it?

word count♡— 1k

genre♡— fluff. pure fluff

content notes♡— blushy toge, established relationship, moving in together, dancing in the kitchen in the refrigerator light vibes, megumi gives advice

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is an overdue request! anon, if you see this I'm sorry this took me a while! I kept it short, but did not hold back on the fluff. please enjoy!

“Toge,” You call for your boyfriend, who is currently sprawled over your couch. “Have you seen my charger?”

Toge looks up from his phone, pausing for a moment to think. After briefly looking confused, he lights up and lifts his hands to sign, ‘I think you left it at my place.’

“Ah,” Not again. Must this always happen? “Remind me to get it back next time we’re there.”

He nods and gets up, gesturing for you to hand over your phone. Toge moves to charge it with his own charger.

“Thanks.” You kiss his cheek, relishing the way he blushes. Flustered, it takes him more than one try to plug the charger into the wall socket. You can’t help but shake your head at him. He’s just too cute sometimes.

About the case of things going missing, however, it happens to Toge too.

You were cleaning up your apartment when it suddenly started raining. Thoughts of Toge in the rain immediately caused you to worry, but you managed to calm down somewhat. He should be fine since he has an umbrella.

Only, he doesn’t. You stare at the compact, foldable umbrella in horror. It’s positioned beside yours at your apartment’s entryway.

Toge, completely drenched, arrives at your place an hour or so after that. Luckily, you anticipated as much, and already had a change of clothes, towels, and warm food ready for him.

He gives you a kiss on the cheek this time, walking backwards into the bathroom, forming a heart with his hands and a goofy smile glowing on his face.

The more time you and Toge spent in each other’s places, the more your things seemed to shuffle about. Your book on his desk. His jacket in your closet. An accessory of yours on his bedside table. That snack he bought is somewhere in your cupboard. It was getting confusing, how your lives were getting tangled up in two separate places.

“The solution is obvious, isn’t it?” Megumi asks one night when you bumped into him at a convenience store. “Move in with him.”

“Oh.” Speechless, you can only blink at him in response. “We’ve never really talked about that.”

Megumi shrugs, “Sounds like that talk’s overdue, if you ask me.”

And maybe it is, because you’re seriously considering it when you can’t find a single pen in your apartment. Why do ballpens vanish when you need them, and why are there so many of them when you don’t?

But of course, you find your favorite ballpen in a mug Toge had turned into a pen holder, sitting with his other pens and markers.

You must have been staring at the pen—at his desk—for quite some time. It makes Toge look at you with concern in his eyes.

“Takana?” He asks, checking on you while resting a hand on your arm.

Snapping out of it, you try to gather your courage to bring up living together. There’s no reason for him to say no, right? And you’d be fine whichever place he chooses. Or maybe, you could meet in the middle and  look for somewhere new?

The thought of apartment hunting with Toge strangely sends butterflies in your stomach. But before you get ahead of yourself, you have to properly ask him about it first.

“What do you think about living together?” You blurt out, and your heartbeat feels rapid and unsteady. Suddenly, it feels like you’re confessing to him all over again.

Toge breathes out a laugh, pulling you into his arms. Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he accepts. “Shake.” 

“Really?” Stunned that it was that easy, it takes you a second before you return his embrace. “Where should we go?”

He pulls back to kiss the tip of your nose cutely. Smiling, he motions to sign, ‘Wherever you want! I’ll follow you anywhere.’

It takes several weeks of planning and headaches, but you and Toge manage to find a new home. It’s close by, still in the same neighborhood that you’re used to. You didn’t want to move too far from this community and your loved ones. 

Other than that, your main goal was to find a place with more space than either of your previous residences. You wanted to organize storage properly. Contrary to your expectations and true to his word, Toge wasn’t picky at all. He was just happy to always be close to you.

As you were unpacking food and supplies in the kitchen, you looked over at your boyfriend. He was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, configuring the wifi. 

“Toge, should we have food delivered? Or would you like to cook in the new kitchen?”

Mouthing, he responds, ‘Cook.’

You gasp, delighted he chose so. “Okay! Let me know if I can help you.”

He quickly fiddles with the wifi router before waving at you to come over. You laugh, “I meant I’d help with the cooking, but sure.”

Toge gets up, taking one of your hands in his. He presses something on his phone before reaching for the other.

The expression on his face is playful and sweet as he places your hands behind his neck; your fingertips brush against the ends of his hair. Music starts playing the moment he holds onto your waist. 

It’s strange, nothing has changed about the room. You’re still surrounded by countless unpacked boxes from the move, and yet the apartment has never felt so vibrant. 

Is it the music? The song he played fills the space and bounces back from every corner, breathing life into your new home.

It could also be the way he dances with you, making you feel like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. No other’s company you’d rather have.

Or, it must be all of that and how he looks at you while he mouths, ‘I love you.’ Because you love him too.

A few days later, while out on a date, Toge asks if you’ve seen his charger.

You hum in thought. “Did you leave it at home?”

Amused, he looks at you funny before pointing to your heart. ‘Is it in there, then?’

“I don’t understand.” You admit, waiting for him to elaborate.

‘My home is where your heart is.’

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

taglist: @flowerjun @songsofadelaide-archive @mellozhi @luccaaedd @ihaveanexistentialcrisis @starszns @msmisasoup @appalost @akakaze @isentsworld @hellyyy06 @lownna

[love--and--venom]

A (Not So) Meet Cute: Chapter One

Summary: After a day of bad luck, you just wanted to go home and relax. Unfortunately for you, a creepy man throws a wrench in those plans. Warnings: stalking, assault, sexual assault, minor violence, cops, creepy weird older man A/N: Some of the tropes and wording in this screams y2k teen coming of age movie, which wasn't intentional but it's a happy coincidence

Series Masterlist

Luck has not been on your side today. Your alarm didn’t go off, meaning you were late to work. In your scramble to get to the bus on time, you forgot to eat and make your morning coffee. You made it to the bus – just barely. 

There was already a line of people waiting for you to unlock the doors to the bookstore. You quickly ran through the opening duties while the customers browsed the shelves. Apparently, you didn’t plug in your charger last night. Your phone was at a measly 30 percent. And of course, you didn’t have your charger in your bag. The closer from yesterday took the charger that was normally by the register. You would have to make due without social media during this shift.

Now it was 15 minutes until the end of your shift. You were so ready to go home and collapse onto your couch. The bell above the door jingled, and you greeted the customer on autopilot. You could see the customer lingering by the door in your peripherals. You turned to ask if they needed help finding something, but froze seeing the disheveled man already staring at you. Feeling a bit uneasy, you turned back to stocking the snacks at the register.

Your relief was already ten minutes late, and you were getting antsy. Your phone was down to 1 percent. You wanted to get home before it died. Not to mention the man was still wandering around the store, looking at you from around bookshelves every few minutes. You barely greeted your coworker when she finally walked into the store. You began speed walking down the street, slinging your bag across your chest. 

But today could not go more wrong . The creepy man followed you as you headed to the bus stop, hanging back a few feet. The hair on the back of your neck raised as anxiety bubbled up in your stomach. You couldn’t go home with this man following you. If he found out where you lived, he could break in and rob you, or worse. 

You detoured into a coffee shop, hoping to lose the man by pretending to read. You ordered the first thing you saw on the menu, a latte maybe? You weren’t really paying attention to the barista. Your focus was stuck on the creep that was still following you. The barista called the fake name that you gave him. You grabbed the drink and sat at a table toward the back of the cafe. To your dismay, the creep sat in the chair right next to you. 

“You’re a foreigner, yeah?” The smell of weed and alcohol hung heavy on his breath. You shrunk into yourself, holding the coffee in front of you as a poor excuse of a shield.

“Um, yea, I am,” you answered warily. You pulled your headphones on despite your phone dying as soon as you entered the cafe. Maybe if he saw you were busy, he would leave you alone. You jumped when the man ripped your headphones off, leaving them hanging around your neck.

“It’s rude to ignore an elder trying to make conversation,” he slurred. Your gaze flickered between the man and the barista, but the latter was either ignoring you or didn’t know what you were trying to signal.

“So, pretty foreigner, how did your Korean get so good?” The creep continued. “A lot of young girls like you sleep around to improve their accent.” A spike of fear ran down your spine.

“I- I’m meeting my boyfriend here.” You don’t have a boyfriend, but the excuse usually worked with the assholes at American bars. 

“So? I can’t keep you company while you wait?” He barked out a raspy laugh. You were panicking at this point, tears threatening to spill out. You were praying for another person to walk in the cafe. The creep was relentless, chattering away oblivious to the fact that you weren’t paying attention at all. The man ran a hand up your thigh. You cursed yourself for wearing a skirt today.

Luck finally decided to show its face in the form of a young man entering the cafe. His short, black hair stuck out from under a beanie. He wore a mask and was typing away on his phone. You silently thanked the gods for giving you a way out of your current situation.

“There he is, bye!” You jumped out of your seat and practically sprinted over to the masked stranger. 

“Hey babe! You’re late, I was worried you forgot about me.” You threw your arms around the stranger’s neck. “Please help, that man is following me.” You whispered before pulling back. Your hands lingered on his biceps. You prayed that he would play along. His eyes flickered from you to the creep slinking his way over.

“Sorry, love. My last class ended a little later than normal.” You let out a shaky breath in relief. Even with most of his face obscured, there was something familiar about him. You couldn’t put your finger on it, so you ignored it.

“Ugh, you had physics today, right? I’ve heard the professor has a huge stick up his ass,” you easily continued his story. He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance.

“You heard right. I’m almost 100 percent certain professor Jung doesn’t know how to smile.” Your “boyfriend” ran his thumb across your knuckles. You pouted at him in mock pity. His eyes met with something behind you and his expression (or what you could see of it) soured. He pulled you so that his body was obscuring yours. 

“Can I help you?” Your “boyfriend” sneered at the creep. The latter looked surprised that he was being acknowledged. You clung to the back of the masked man’s hoodie, peeking around his shoulder. 

The creep put his hands up in false surrender. The boy in front of you stared the creep down until the door of the cafe shut behind him. You immediately backed up from your unsuspecting savior, bowing deeply.

“Thank you!” You straightened back up. “Thank you so, so much. That man has been following me for, like, 20 minutes.”

“Seriously? What an asshole.” He scoffed in disbelief. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m okay now. I don’t know how to thank you enough. Can I buy your drink?” You offered. His eyes crinkled in a hidden smile.

“I’m getting drinks for me and my friends.” He tried waving your offer away.

“Oh, well how many friends? I don’t mind-”

“It’s me and seven others.” He raised an eyebrow at you. You gaped at him, and he snickered at your shock.

“Okay, maybe not.” You definitely couldn’t pay for eight overpriced lattes. You remembered your own drink, needing the caffeine after the whole ordeal. You turned to your table, but your drink was gone. That asshole stole your coffee.

“You good?” The kind stranger’s voice interrupted your internal rage.

“That fucking creep took my coffee!” You exclaimed, gesturing to the table where your drink should have been. 

“Damn, no shame. Come on, I’ll get you a new one.” He nudged your shoulder before approaching the counter. “Eight iced Americanos aaaaand,” he trailed off, turning to you.

“You don’t have to-” a sharp look stopped your denial in its tracks. “And an iced French vanilla latte.” He smiled and paid for all nine beverages, much to your chagrin. The two of you moved to wait by the pick up counter.

“So what’s your name?” He asked, leaning against the counter.

“Oh! Y/N L/N, you?” 

“Kim Seungmin.” The stranger, now known as Seungmin, looked pleasantly surprised. You chatted while the barista prepared the drinks. Once they were ready, you helped Seungmin load the Americanos into carriers. You held the door open for him as you exited the cafe.

“Shouldn’t I be the one holding the door for you? I’m such a horrible boyfriend,” he teased. 

“You’re holding eight coffees!” You flushed and lightly hit his arm. He laughed and shook his head. You tried suppressing your smile, trying to be mad at him, but failed. 

“Thank you, again. For the coffee and for the help with-” You froze in your tracks. Seungmin tilted his head at your sudden stop and wide, fearful eyes.

“Mother fucker! ” You cursed in English. Seungmin’s eyebrows shot up. “That creep is still watching us!”

“What?!” Seungmin followed your gaze. Sure enough, the man was lurking across the street, watching you. “Oh, you have to be shitting me.”

“God, what does he want with me? And why me?!” You whined in frustration. Your phone was still dead, but you didn’t want to burden your new friend further.

“Here, hold one of these.” Seungmin handed you one of the coffee carriers. He then took your drink and tucked it in the center so that one of your hands was empty. He laced his finger with yours and tugged you down the sidewalk.

“What? Where are we going?” You questioned. You pointedly ignored the butterflies erupting in your stomach at the contact.

“We’re going back to where my friends are. If this guy is still following us, we’re calling the cops.” Seungmin left no room for arguments. You nodded and let him lead you to a recording studio about ten minutes from the cafe.

“Ooh, a recording studio? Are you a musician?” You asked as you approached the glass doors. There was a pin pad to the right.

“Yeah, me and my friends are in a band. Here, stand in front of me,” he breezed past your questions and pulled you to stand between him and the building. He reasoned with himself, arguing that he was doing this to make sure you weren’t vulnerable. Definitely not because your perfume smelled nice and he wanted to be closer to you. Nope. Definitely not.

“The doors are locked with a pin,” Seungmin explained and reached around you to type in the digits. “You’ll be safe here.” A buzz indicated the door unlocking and he ushered you inside. 

The studio’s front room was small, holding only a couch and a coffee table. There was an open door on the opposite wall. You heard several loud conversations coming from the other room. The two of you placed the carriers on the coffee table.

“Is he still there?” You asked, a little too nervous to look for yourself. Seungmin looked outside and nodded. You shoved your face into your hands. Why was this happening to you?!

“Guys, I’m back!” Seungmin shouted while removing his mask. Okay, now you were certain you’ve seen him before. But where? It was irking you.

“Coffee! Thank god!” A young man with shoulder length dark hair huffed as he strolled out of the other room. He stopped when he saw you. Another man with longer platinum hair followed the first guy. 

“Oh, who’s your friend, Seungmin?” The blonde asked in a surprisingly deep voice. Oh, shit. The pieces clicked together.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re Stray Kids,” you muttered to yourself, feeling a mix of horror and embarrassment. 

“You finally figured it out?” Seungmin teased. You glared at him. How could you not recognize him earlier?! You scolded yourself in your mind.

“Y/N, this is Hyunjin and Felix. Hyunjin and Felix, Y/N.” Seungmin gestured between the three of you. Clearly he was enjoying this.

“Hi, nice to meet you. No offense, but why are you here?” Hyunjin asked, looking between you and Seungmin. 

“Ah, right. We need Chan or Minho to call the police. Like, now,” Seungmin explained (barely). The older boy didn’t question it and disappeared back into the other room. Felix’s face twisted into concern. Only moments later, Hyunjin returned with two other boys in tow. Holy shit that’s Bang Chan and Lee Know. You didn’t know if you should freak out because you were meeting idols, or freak out because Lee Know looked like he wanted to kill you.

“Seungmin, what’s going on? Who is that?” Chan questioned.

“Did she break in?” Minho glared at you. His intense stare made you want to crawl into a hole. 

“No, no. We need to call the cops for her, not because of her,” Seungmin raised his hands to mediate the situation. You backed yourself into the corner as the rest of Stray Kids filled the small lounge. 

“Seungmin. What. Happened?” Chan was trying (and failing) to get control of the situation.

“I’m- I- I’m so sorry.” You stuttered. Your breathing picked up and your heart was racing. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your rehearsal. I just-” you cut yourself off with a sob. The reality of hiding from a stalker in Stray Kids’ studio was hitting you hard.

“Hey, Y/N, right? I need you to breathe with me,” Jisung placed his hands on your shoulders, urging you to meet his eyes. “Okay, breathe in. Breathe out.”

While Jisung led you through breathing exercises to quell your panic attack, Seungmin recounted everything that happened since he entered the coffee shop. Chan’s expression grew increasingly alarmed. Felix was horrified. The blonde moved to run a soothing hand across your shoulder blades. Chan nodded once Seungmin finished. 

“Y/N, come sit down. Please.” Chan sat on the couch. He patted the spot next to him. You hesitated, but sat on the edge of the cushion. “Can you tell me what happened before you ran into Seungmin?”

You nodded. You took a deep, shuddering breath before explaining everything that happened since the creepy man showed up at the bookstore. The boys stared at you with varying levels of disgust and anger on their faces. Well, except Minho. He kept a neutral expression until you told them about the man trying to touch under your skirt.

“He fucking what? ” Minho nearly shouted. You jumped at the angered edge to his voice. “Sorry, you’re okay, I’m not mad at you . But this man put his hands on you? And he’s still lingering outside?” You nodded.

“Fuck, what the hell, man?!” Hyunjin raked a hand through his hair. Jisung sat on the arm of the couch next to you. He ran a comforting hand along your shoulders. 

“Alright, I’ll go call the police. Keep an eye on the pervert. Let me know if he tries something.” Minho pulled out his phone and moved back into the other room, passing Changbin on his way in. He paced around the recording room.

“112, what is your emergency?” The operator answered after one ring. 

“My name is Lee Minho, I am calling on behalf of a girl that approached my friend for help. She has been followed and harassed by a strange man for about an hour now. This man has followed her from her workplace, to a coffee shop, and now to our recording studio,” Minho launched into a concise explanation of the situation. 

“Alright, Lee-nim, where is your studio located?” The operator asked, the sound of a keyboard clicking away filled the background.

“It’s the JYP satellite studio on Seonsa-ro. The door is locked with a pin, so the man can’t get in. He is still lingering on the street out front.” Minho pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not how he expected today’s session to go. “I’m here with seven friends and the girl.”

“There are officers on their way. They should arrive in less than five minutes. Please stay on the line until they arrive,” the operator instructed. Minho hummed in affirmation. The soft conversations in the front room were cut off by a loud crash followed by a scream. Minho rushed out to face utter chaos.

The man had thrown a brick through the glass door of the studio. Where did he even get a brick? Chan, Changbin, and Seungmin were in the man’s face, shoving him back towards the door when he tried to walk further into the room. Hyunjin and Jeongin stood in the middle of the room, while Jisung and Felix held onto you in the furthest corner from the door. 

“Lee-nim, what’s happening?” The operator’s voice broke him from his daze.

“The man has broken into the studio. My friends are keeping him away from the girl, but he’s getting more violent.” Minho moved to stand directly in front of you and the two younger boys. 

“Officers will be there in less than a minute.” He was barely paying attention to what the operator was saying at this point. His ears were ringing and the scene in front of him felt like it was moving in slow motion. The man swung wildly at the three boys at the front. 

“EVERYBODY STOP!” The harsh voice of a police officer forced time back to normal. Three officers approached, guns trained on the creepy man. For a tense moment, it looked like he was going to fight back. “Kneel and put your hands on your head.” Reluctantly, he obeyed the officer. 

The man was handcuffed and forced to his feet. One officer led the man outside and into a patrol car. The other two officers split up to take statements from you and the boys, with the female officer approaching you. Jisung and Felix once again had to help calm your hiccuping sobs enough for you to talk to the kind officer. 

It took another 20 minutes for the officers to gather all of the necessary information. Finally, they pulled away to take the man to the police station. Silence fell over the group. What. The. Fuck.

Seungmin broke the silence with a harsh sigh. He tugged you away from the sunshine twins and into a tight hug. You squeaked in surprise, but allowed the second youngest to hold on to you. One hand held your waist, the other cradled the back of your head. It was surprisingly tender and the tension melted away from your body.

“I really don’t know how to thank you all enough,” you admitted once you managed to pull your face from Seungmin’s chest. Your watery eyes glanced around the group of idols. Never in a million years did you think you would meet Stray Kids, let alone be protected and comforted by them.

“I’d settle for your number,” Jisung quipped. You whipped around to gawk at the rapper. 

“I- what? Are you serious?” You were in disbelief. “Why?”

“Y/N, sweetheart, you’re insane if you think we wouldn’t want to keep in touch after all of this,” Hyunjin argued, the pet name causing a light blush to spread across your cheeks and nose. You were suddenly very aware of Seungmin still standing behind you with a hand on your lower back.

“Obviously if you’re not comfortable with it, you don’t have to,” Chan quickly chimed in. You shook your head.

“I don’t mind, but are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble for sharing that information with a fan,” your eyebrows pinched in concern. 

“I think I speak for all of us when I say you’re a bit more than just a fan now,” Felix reassured. “I mean, three of us were literally just fighting a man to keep you safe.” 

“Relax.” Seungmin smoothed the crease between your brows with a swipe of his thumb. Your blush deepened a few shades. 

“My phone is still dead.”

“Here, put your number in my phone. I’ll walk you back to your place and text you after you get inside.” Chan handed his phone over to you. 

“Yah! What about the rest of us?” Jisung protested. The leader rolled his eyes.

“I’ll give it to everyone once I get back to our dorms. Changbin, make sure you save what we did today. Obviously we’re gonna have to resume tomorrow in the main studio.” Chan gently moved you toward the door by your elbow. The younger producer nodded and disappeared into the back room. 

“Thank you, again. I guess I’ll be texting you guys later,” you waved a small goodbye. The rest of the boys waved and chimed in their own farewells. You turned and headed to the bus stop with Chan right behind you. The topic of conversation for the rest of the group quickly fell to you. Your life was about to get way more interesting.

[sillylilsquid]

Real Life Romance Book pt.5

paring - hyun ju x reader summary - one day at the cozy bookstore you work at, you meet hyun ju. a woman who ignites a fire in your chest. you fall for her unaware at first of her journey as a trans woman. though that doesn't stop you from wanting her to be yours. together, you navigate the ups and downs of life, exploring love, identity, and the power of connection. warnings - au!hyun ju, no squid game, afab!reader, mentions of bullying and transphobia, sexual content, 18+ only, minors dni

The sun peaking through your curtains made the pounding in your head even worse. You groaned, stuffing your face into your pillow. Laying there you tried to play through the events of the evening before. You remembered going to the club with your friends and girlfriend, but not much after that. You knew you only got home safely because of Hyun Ju, and you were very thankful for that. Slowly you sat up, rubbing your eyes in hopes to sober you up a little bit more. You noticed your room looked a lot more tidy than the evening before, and you knew damn well you hadn’t cleaned it in your drunken stupor. A glass of water sat on your bedside table, you smiled, eagerly grabbing for it. Chugging it down you looked down at your clothes seeing you were in pajamas. Hyun Ju must have helped you change–and as sweet as it was, the thought made you nervous. You prayed you hadn’t made a fool of yourself last night.

Once you felt up to it you got out of bed and rummaged around for your phone. It was sitting in your purse, dead from being off the charger all night. Sighing, you plugged in and began to clean yourself up. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, and you found that it was much easier since your makeup had been removed. What a kind woman, you thought. You ran a brush through your hair and braided it to keep it away from your face. You knew you needed a shower to wash the smell of sweat and alcohol off your body, but you wanted to call Hyun Ju first. Impatiently you waited for your phone to charge enough to even turn on. As soon as you were able to, you dialed Hyun Ju’s number.

Hyun Ju had messaged you a few times that morning, but seeing they were green and not blue she assumed your phone had died. That was one thing she forgot to do before leaving last night; of course she cleaned your whole place but managed to forget plugging in your phone. That morning she did her usual routine after returning from the gym. She dressed herself in a pair of baggy sweatpants and a shirt, her hair messily pulled into a ponytail. Leaning against her kitchen island, she finished her morning coffee and she heard her phone vibrate against the counter. Quickly, she grabbed it. Seeing your contact photo of the two of you made her smile as she answered your call. “Good morning sleepy girl.” she spoke, setting her coffee mug down. You groaned on the other end, your throat feeling raw. “Sorry, I didn’t realize my phone died. Thank you for last night.” you responded. “You didn’t have to clean up my place…but I really appreciate it.” Hyun Ju smiled, trying to keep herself from laughing. “How many times have I told you? You can’t just let random people into your place; first it starts by them doing your chores, next thing you know you’re dead.” she teased, bursting out in laughter. You sat on the other end of the phone, shaking your head at her joke. “Ha ha, very funny. Better watch yourself or I’ll take my key back.” the both of you knew that was an empty threat. 

“Can you come over? I really feel like shit, and I just want to see my girlfriend.” you whined, and of course she agreed. “But maybe wait a little bit, I need to shower and change my clothes and stuff,” you explained, but she cut you off. “No need to wait, I’ll be over soon. You can shower once I’m there.” “Wait, why should I wait?” you tried to ask and with that she hung up. You sat on your bed, mouth hung open at her words. Shower? With her here? Surely she didn’t mean together, right? Shaking your head you headed to the bathroom, found some ibuprofen and quickly swallowed them down with another glass of water. With how close Hyun Ju lived to your apartment you knew she would arrive shortly. 

Hyun Ju made one quick stop to the coffee shop on her way over. She ordered you a tea in hopes it would make you feel a little better. Arriving at your place she locked her car and walked inside, up the stairs, and yet again politely knocked on your front door. This woman. You stood, feet shuffling to the door and unlocked it for her. When you pulled it open you were surprised to be greeted by her in such a casual outfit. You were used to her always being so tidy and well dressed, but you found this side of her just as attractive. Shyly you stepped to the side so she could enter. As she kicked off her shoes she stuck out her hand with the cup of tea, which you grabbed eagerly. “Thank you!” you exclaimed, sipping it slowly so as to not burn your mouth. The warm liquid soothed your throat as you swallowed it. “You’re welcome sweet girl. Now, if I remember correctly you need to shower, and change. It’ll make you feel a lot better.” you blushed as you looked down at yourself. “Geez I didn’t think I looked that bad.” you muttered. She chuckled, her hand forcing your chin up so you would meet her eyes. “Hush now. You know that’s not what I meant. Come on,” she leaned down, giving you a tender kiss. When she grabbed your wrist to drag you towards the bathroom you followed her obediently. 

She turned on the water, testing it with her hand before giving you the okay. You stood there staring at her with wide eyes. She raised her eyebrows as if waiting for you to either say something or undress. “Can you…could you turn around, please?” you asked, fumbling with the bottom of your cotton pajama top shyly. Hyun Ju laughed, her mouth opened briefly as if she wanted to say something but nodded instead and turned around. Once you knew she wasn’t looking you quickly undressed and stumbled into the shower snapping the curtain shut behind you. You heard her footsteps leave the bathroom and return a few minutes later, making you peek your head out. She had grabbed you a clean shirt and a pair of panties. You recognized the shirt as one of her own that she had let you borrow one time when you spilled coffee all over yours. The gesture made you smile. You tucked yourself back in the shower and tried to focus on washing off the night before. 

“I knew you wouldn’t remember last night.” she finally spoke. Her tone held a hint of disappointment, but you knew she didn’t mean it rudely. You couldn’t help but peek out again barely enough to see her leaning against the bathroom counter, her arms crossed lazily over her chest. The image made your knees weak. “Why? Did I do something stupid?” you asked, raking your fingers through your hair to detangle it. Her eyes drifted to you, admiring you and you blushed realizing you were standing with your chest barely covered by the curtain. You disappeared back into the water. She stayed silent for a moment then hummed. “You don’t remember trying to rip my clothes off? I’m offended.” she teased, giggling. Once her words registered you were mortified. She had to be playing with you. “No way, I–did I really?” you asked, your voice becoming small as you grew embarrassed. “Don’t feel bad, you were really drunk, I knew you didn’t mean it.” that made you gasp. “I did mean it! Wait, no–I mean like, well of course I want to do that but…” you stopped talking knowing you were only making things worse. “Sweet girl, it’s okay.” she responded kindly, her voice sounded like it was just on the other side of the curtain. Hesitantly you moved to look out at her, being met with her beautiful dark eyes. She leaned in, giving you a quick kiss. You finished your shower in silence, soon turning the water off. You went to reach for your towel and saw it wasn’t on the counter, but in Hyun Ju’s hands. She stood close motioning for you to get out. Clearing your throat you looked down at your body before taking a deep breath. You held that breath as you shyly pushed the curtain open. She helped you step out of the shower and proceeded to dry you off. As her hands explored your body you shivered, partly from the cold and partly from being so close to her.

Once she knew you were dry enough she helped you get dressed, and somehow standing there in front of the mirror in just a large shirt and panties made you feel even more exposed. Hyun Ju stood behind you, her height towering over your smaller frame. She began to brush your hair and you watched her in the mirror, occasionally your eyes would meet and every time she would flash you a smile. “I’ll be ready one day, soon even, just not yet.” she explained and when you didn’t answer she spoke again. “In the meantime at least let me admire you.” she sat down your hairbrush, and let her hands drag up your thighs. They landed to rest on your hips. It made your shirt lift slightly, your panties exposed. You blushed profusely. “Take all the time you need,” you whispered, craning your neck to look back at her. Her hands gave your hips a squeeze with a smirk. She removed them from your waist, your shirt falling back down over your thighs. Her strong hands now traced over your shoulders, down your arms, across your stomach. They left the feeling of fire every place they touched. “You know how hard it was to resist you? You sat there, so needy…you gave me this look with your eyes,” she spoke, her voice heavy with… lust?  You weren’t exactly sure, but you were sure that you were quickly getting turned on. Staring back at her reflection you knew the exact look she was talking about. You used it a lot to get what you wanted, something you had mastered throughout your dating history. Your eyes met hers in the mirror, and you gave her that exact look. She seemed to freeze, eyes widening. “Tease.” she whispered in your ear. You shivered at the feeling, and you knew you had to stop or else you’d be yet again trying to rip her clothes off her.

You leaned back into her touch briefly before bending down and slipping out of her grasp. “Let’s go watch a movie or something–my feet are killing me!” you exclaimed, running to your couch and flopping on it. Hyun Ju remained in the bathroom for a moment trying to collect herself then followed you out to the couch. You were also trying to force yourself to calm down and think of anything else, but it was so damn hard. When she sat down next to you her arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you tucked yourself into her side. She picked out something to watch but didn’t plan on watching most of it–she was too focused on you. On your body, and that look you gave her. Hyun Ju felt that familiar tight feeling growing in her stomach. 

Slyly you reached over to place your hand against her stomach, acting as if you didn’t even know you were doing it. As the two of you “watched the movie” your hand idly played with the hem of her shirt. She’d tense every so often when your fingers would brush against her skin. After a bit though you grew bold. You scooted closer, practically sitting on her lap so you could place kisses along her neck. Hyun Ju let out a sigh, it tickled your ear making you shiver. Before you could register what was happening, she had pulled you onto her lap. She kissed you, her lips moving feverishly against your own. She hadn’t moved your hands so you decided to take your shot. Slowly you started pushing her shirt up exposing the soft skin of her stomach. You broke the kiss to admire her, but to also check on her and see if she was okay. Her eyes were closed, head hung back to rest against the back of the couch. Her breath coming out in soft pants. You continued to move her shirt up, past her bra and Hyun Ju raised up her arms. 

“Hyunnie,” you whispered, it was the nickname you knew was her favorite. She cut you off before you could finish your sentence by sitting up to pull off her own shirt. There she sat before you in just her bra and sweatpants. Her eyes searched your face, and as much as you tried to look back at her you couldn’t help but stare at her body in admiration. Her body was lean and muscular, but still held femininity. You tore your gaze away to meet her eyes. You couldn’t speak, your mind not allowing you to form any words. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” she assured you, leaning forwards so she could kiss you. Her hand rested on the back of your neck to keep you close. Your hands hovered, not knowing where you could touch–so you decided to just rest them upon her shoulders. She chuckled against your lips. “I know you love looking, you can touch.” she offered, slowly pulling away so she could watch. You cleared your throat, now nervous. “Don’t be shy now,” Hyun Ju whispered, grabbing your wrists. “Sweet girl.” her voice was soft, laced with a teasing tone. Her hands tightened on your wrists and pulled them off her shoulders. At that moment you started to get over your nerves, realizing she was letting you do this. In fact, she took her shirt off. For you. She wanted this, with you. 

Your hands traced across her collarbones, playfully snapping one of the straps of her bra against her skin. Her breath hitched, eyes glued to your hands. Slowly, your hands drifted over her breasts. You didn’t try to take her bra off, if she wanted it you were sure she would’ve discarded it along with her shirt. Swallowing, you gently squeezed her breasts. A moan, though barely audible, escaped her lips. Your heartbeat pounded so hard in your chest you were sure she could hear it. Seeing her like this made you drool. What a beautiful woman, you thought. As your hands slowly moved down her stomach you felt her abdominal muscles, reminding you of how strong she was. The skin of her stomach was soft and supple. Hesitantly your fingertips traced the waistband of her sweatpants, but you stopped yourself. Don’t ruin this, you reminded yourself. So you swept your fingers back up, resting on her breasts again as you leaned in to kiss her. She needily kissed you back, hands wandering your body. They had pushed your shirt up enough to rest against your butt, kneading it briefly. As you two continued to kiss you felt her body relaxing more underneath yours which made you smile. She was comfortable with you. The movie on the television soon finished, and when the apartment became silent she slowly pulled away. She was panting underneath you. “Like what you see?” she teased, reaching up to swiped her thumb across your bottom lip. You nodded eagerly, which made her laugh. “Hyunnie, you’re beautiful.” you whispered. You brushed her hair out of her face, trying to fix it after destroying it earlier by threading your hands so desperately through it. “You’re beautiful too,” your name fell from her lips so effortlessly. Her voice smooth, still thick with desire.

You slumped against her, burying your face into her neck. She wrapped her arms around you and her muscles flexed. You felt yourself grow tired; you weren’t sure if it was because of last night, or because of your heated kissing with Hyun Ju. “Sleepy?” she asked you, and you just silently nodded. Hyun Ju reached around you to grab her shirt, briefly pushing you up so she could pull it over her head. You whined, but allowed her to do it anyway. Hyun Ju stood up with you in her arms, legs wrapped tightly around her waist. She carried you to bed, setting you down. “Don’t go!” your voice desparte, making you blush at how needy you were acting. “Sweet girl, I’m not leaving.” she crawled over you, tucking the both of you into bed. Her body snuggled up behind yours, pulling your back against her chest. As your breathing slowed you felt the feeling of sleep take over you, and you could’ve sworn you heard her whisper three words. I love you.

a/n: i appreciate all the love i get from writing, y'all are really sweet. enjoy!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Darlene, you never did have sense!” Your grandmother yawls.  

Your eyes roll to the ceiling and settle on the wall. Your mother snarls back, “it wasn’t my fault!” 

“It never is your fault, is it? But it’s always my mess to clean up.” The old woman barks. 

You sigh and turn off the lamp. Despite the devastation of your home, the rest of your life remains in place. You have a shift at the deli and you can’t afford to miss a single minute now. You know your grandma won’t put up with you for long. You don’t think you can stand her either. 

The venomous back and forth continues as you pull a pillow over your head. It’s impossible to drown out. When it stops, your mom crashes through the door and stomps around. Your adrenaline spikes again. You haven’t really calmed down since the trailer folded into dust. 

She flops onto the bed and scrolls through her phone. The brightness seeps in below the edge of the pillow. The double futon isn’t very spacious. 

The speaker crackles and she cackles at some shitty video. The noise has you rolling to face the wall. She’s so oblivious. Or maybe she doesn’t give the shit. It’s not so different than the trailer. She never did try to keep it down. 

You get no peace even as she falls asleep. She snores like a broken lawn mower. You toss and turn as your grandmother’s cigarette smoke tickles your throat. 

Your life wasn’t grand before. The double-wide was no palace but it was better than this. You huff and give in to insomnia. You stare at the ceiling as frustration boils to rage. 

You can still hear his laughter. Tony Stark is in his fancy robotic suit with his overpriced haircut and blatant nonchalance. He didn’t give a shit that he just destroyed a home. To him, the idea of living in that is laughable. And laugh he did. 

The echo of his amusement irks you until you can no longer lay still. You shimmy to the bottom of the bed and climb off. You snatch your phone from the charger and pace around. The floor creaks under your feet. 

Didn’t he say he’d replace it? Maybe some things can’t be bought but you still own the lot, at least for another month. You just need something to put there. He said so. He owes you. 

So, where the heck is your trailer? 

You push your thumb down without thinking. You type, letting the vitriol stream out of your thumbs.  

‘Tony Stark destroyed my home and my life.  

Right now, I’m at my grandma’s house. Again. Me and my mom have been forced to seek refuge in her guest room. The smell of tobacco and cat piss is so pungent I could choke. I can’t sleep on the futon shared between the both of us and in the morning, I’ll turn in for a minimum-wage job and when I get my check, I still won’t be able to replace what he ruined. 

Four walls. That’s all we had and now we have nothing. Because that playboy, billionaire, douchebag didn’t look where he was flying. He may have saved New York but he has burnt our life to the ground. Literally.’ 

You attach one of the photos you snagged of the wreck. You took as many as you could hoping that the park might be able to use it for an insurance claim. Your heart thumps as you hit post. The little blue line fills up and the check mark flashes. 

You feel better. It’s always nice to be able to vent your problems and you can’t do so with your mom. She’ll just pick apart your words until it’s your fault. And your grandma can’t be bothered to listen either. She would only rant about how she’s stuck with a bunch of losers. 

You plug your phone back in and crawl back onto the futon, fitting in between your mom and the wall. You can get a few hours in before you have to drag yourself to the deli. Tony Stark can take whatever he wants but he won’t steal any more of your sleep. 

After another bout of restlessness, you sink into a shallow haze. You awake with a stone behind your forehead. You take some Advil as you climb out of bed. Your mom continues to snore as you dress in the musty clothes borrowed from your grandma. She’ll begrudge you those along with that the water you use to shower and brush your teeth. 

You leave the house in silence. You yawn and light up your phone on the way to the bus stop. You have to transfer from this route to your usual.  

Huh. That can’t be right. 50k? That’s absurd. You press down on the notification and it brings up your post. 

Oh. It’s real. Your post has blown up. Fifty-thousand. That’s pretty good but it’s hardly viral. If anything, the fanfiction girlies probably think it’s a fic preview. 

You put your phone away as the bus approaches. You dumb a handful of change in the machine as you board and find a seat near the front. Your head bobbles as your eyes droop. Now you can sleep. Huh. 

You open the deli as usual. You set to slicing the days orders and get the breads in the oven. The doors unlock just after eight and the usual customers mill in. When John gets there after ten, you step aside to check your phone. 

No way. A million. It’s impossible. 

It doesn’t matter anyway. A post on the internet isn’t going to get you your trailer back. It will die out soon enough. Maybe you should just delete it. No, that feels wrong. A shitty thing happened and you have a right to be unhappy about it. So, you will and you’ll scream it at your phone screen. 

You put your phone back in your apron and go back to work. The virtual world doesn’t matter. Esther wants her turkey breast. 

[stoneybun]

Hold Me Like a Grudge

Schlatt x Reader fluff. Inspired by Hold Me Like a Grudge by Fall Out Boy. Continuation of I've Got All This Ringing in My Ears and None on My Fingers --- The next morning, you blink slowly, coming to your senses. You huff softly, stretching your arms out and feeling your hand brush against the cold screen of your phone. The memory of Schlatt’s call hits you in the face, blinking when you realize your phone wasn’t plugged into the charger. You tap at the screen, watching as it stays black like it was taunting you, reflecting the way a little frown formed on your face. This only reminded you the world was always spinning and you can’t keep up. “Oh God fucking..” you sigh. That shouldn’t have upset you that much, but waking up to Schlatt no longer on the other end because you forgot to plug your phone in again made your stomach turn. Then again, who’s to say he wouldn’t have hung up by the morning anyway? Accepting defeat, you plug your phone in and leave it sitting on your unmade bed as you go to at least get your morning routine started. By the time you came back, your phone was now on and showed only a few notifications, but one catches your eye. A text from Schlatt. It wasn’t completely unreasonable. Sometimes he’d text out of the blue, but after last night, it made your heart lurch in your chest. Schlatt: phone die or did you come to your senses this time? You hated how he knew your habits so well. It was like he held onto each bit of information he learned about you, holding them against you like a grudge. You: funny. figured ud have found out i always make the worst decisions by now :/ Schlatt: yeah. you put the fun in dysfunction. You: sure do. i’m a full-time problem. Schlatt: at least you’re aware. You scoff, rolling your eyes at his text. But before you can even think about anything else, you’re already typing a reply. You: u keep coming back so idk what that says about u 🤷🏻 The text bubble pops up and down several times. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head as the dots taunt you, only driving your impatience thinner. Schlatt: you busy today? Weird way to change the topic. You don’t pay it much mind, deciding to push him just a bit more. You: why? Schlatt: answer the question, bitch. You: no Schlatt: figured. i’m picking you up at 10. You: i don’t get a choice???? Schlatt: don’t give me that shit. you’d say yes anyway. You: …i hate you Schlatt: no you don’t. and you aren’t saying no. You: whatever you wanna tell urself, big guy Schlatt: see you at 10, toots. You decide to leave him on read, sighing heavily after tossing your phone back onto the bed. Something about this was different, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. Sure, he’s done this before to get his fill from you (literally,) but your head was spinning, only going faster and faster. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, especially with how he sounded like he genuinely needed you last night. Maybe, just maybe, you’d have a good night with him rather than leaving feeling like you were making a bigger mistake. Maybe you’d be able to run middle fingers through the red lights with him and not care where you end up this time. Schlatt kept to his word, pulling up in one of his adored cars and beeping the horn twice, his signature. You roll your eyes when you hear it, knowing he’ll keep going if you don’t walk out the door in the next two minutes. You pull on your shoes, opening the front door as he honks again, making you scrunch your face at him. He does it back with a smug grin, clear opposite of your scowl. The pop-up headlights on his car were up, and they catch your gaze as one goes down only to pop back up a few seconds later. Did this fucker just wink at you with his headlights? Your reaction earns a hearty laugh from Schlatt, one that makes your heart flutter. Yeah, this wasn’t your usual night with him. That only confirmed it.

“That was fuckin’ priceless,” he beamed as he got out of the car, a hand running through his hair since he wasn’t wearing a hat tonight. It lets you admire those tousled chocolate curls of his you adored. “You’re ridiculous,” you shake your head, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth seems to make Schlatt’s own smile grow. His eyes held a warmth you weren’t used to seeing at that moment. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he spoke softly, brushing past you to open the passenger door for you. This part was normal, the man never let you open the car door for yourself unless you physically beat him to it. You just huff, mind still reeling as you slide into the car, Schlatt closing the door behind you and going back around to the driver’s side. The radio’s playing softly, already knowing it was the playlist he had you make on his phone. He passed it off as wanting to make fun of your music taste, but then you found him playing it any time you were in the car with him. The drive is quiet, the tension between you two nearly making it hard to breathe, but somehow comforting. Schlatt keeps a hand on your thigh like always, his other hand on the wheel as he drives. You’re staring at the window, oblivious to the fact that he’s gazing at you at every red light. Eventually, he takes a turn onto a winding side road, leading to a field shielded from the city lights. He kills the engine, and when you look up, you notice it’s the same spot you first saw him be vulnerable only to hide in his persona again. Your heart aches in the memory of that night. It was the night you realized just how hard you’d fallen for him. As you’re lost in your thoughts, Schlatt’s hand on your thigh tightens briefly, like he’s trying to pull you out of your head. “I think I’m getting tired of the part-time soulmates thing we’ve got going on,” he starts, and the only thing that keeps you from getting instantly defensive is the way his voice was lowered like he was afraid of the words he was saying. A few moments pass before he speaks up again, swallowing hard. “I can’t keep acting like I don’t care. Tried keepin’ you distant, but you..” he trailed off, his eyes meeting yours, and you felt your breath hitch when they did. You wait for him to finish, but the way his hand on your thigh trembles slightly tells you he was struggling.

“I what?” you whisper, afraid to break the moment, afraid that if you speak too loud, it’ll shatter.

“You... make me feel things I don’t know how to deal with.” His voice cracks slightly, and it’s enough to send a rush of heat to your chest. “I told myself I didn’t need anyone, that I could handle this shit alone. But... you’ve always been there, even when I didn’t deserve it. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t care. I do.”

The confession hits you like a tidal wave, your heart threatening to burst. It’s everything you’ve been afraid to hear but desperately needed. You can’t stop the smile that breaks across your face despite feeling like you’d pass out.

“You care?” you ask, half-laughing, half-crying, the disbelief clear in your voice.

His lips curl up into a sheepish smile. “Toots, I have since I saw you.”

You move closer, your hands finding their way to his collar, pulling him in. His breath catches just before your lips meet. It’s a slow, tentative kiss at first, as though neither of you is entirely sure what happens next. But it deepens, soft and sweet, like a promise you’ve both been too scared to make until now.

When you finally pull back, you rest your forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. You could get used to this.

“I don’t think I can keep pretending, either,” you murmur, your voice barely a whisper.

He chuckles softly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Guess we’re both fucked then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply with a soft laugh, nuzzling into his chest, letting the weight of the night settle between you two, knowing that this time, it feels real. Schlatt was a diamond on the inside, you just needed to add the pressure.

( psst @sittin-n-thinkin .... )

[twasmayfield]

still.

description: years later after a summer trip with her father that became fading memories, fernando alonso's daughter stumbles across a camcorder and reflects on the rare time spent with her father as she tries to reconcile the father she knew with the man she didn't.

warnings: major character death (off screen, not mentioned), loosely based off of ‘aftersun (2022)’, mostly me forgetting how eleven year olds work, afab and daughter!reader, fernando might be a little ooc, title's from a noah kahan song, lmk if i forgot anything else.

a/n: idk man, this au was stuck in my head sigh

She found the old shoebox back in March when she dug through her closet, trying to find a presentable dress to wear to an event. The box was shoved all the way in the back of the closet on the floor, looking worn and almost cold to the touch. Of course, it was long forgotten after a long night of drinking expensive champagne and schmoozing with her friends. And she didn’t stumble upon it again until late September when she was stuffing her old clothes into boxes to donate.

She pulled the box out, letting out a small huff of amusement as she dug through it. The box was full of old photographs from when she was younger. A couple snapshots featuring her parents being in love, her mother looking pretty in the sunlight, and one or two pictures of her and her father at his races. She paused, staring down at the pictures; a bittersweet feeling clawing at her chest. She grabbed the old camcorder, riffling through the box for the charger before she plugged it into an outlet, waiting for it to be charged.

Her memories of him were few and far—snippets of his smile and face long forgotten, slipping and fading away into the back of her mind—only actually being encapsulated in news articles and old race clips spread out across the internet. She thought it wasn’t fair how she couldn’t seem to remember what he used to have for breakfast, yet the strangers online knew about him more than she ever did and will.

The video is grainy now—not like the clear footage she remembered so vividly when she was younger. Now she’s the same age as he was in the video; maybe even older by a few years. She stared at the screen, her eyes studying the way his face looked in the video; the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed—the sound of his laughter quiet and faint in her ears without her ever needing to play it.

The Mediterranean sun was blinding, casting golden light over the quiet resort town.

On the balcony of a small, seaside hotel, Fernando Alonso stood by the railing, sunglasses perched on his nose, and a cigarette lazily held between his two fingers. He watched the world in easy silence, the waves lapping at the shore, the distant hum of laughter and clinking glasses from the bar below.

Inside, his daughter unboxed a new camcorder he had bought for her. She read through the instructions before turning it on, adjusting it on a stack of books. The red recording light flickered on, causing her to let out a squeal of excitement that caught her father’s attention.

“Ladies and gentleman, my father, the amazing, wondrous, one armed Fernando Alonso Díaz.” She giggled as she held the camcorder in her hands, zooming into his face; his features on display in the little screen. “Papá, say something.”

Fernando glanced at her, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What do you want me to say?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, something wise.”

He exhaled slowly, flicking ash over the railing. “Life is like a race. Everyone tells you to go faster, but sometimes… you should just enjoy the track.”

She snorted. “That was awful.”

But she’s smiling.

And for now, that’s enough.

The air was hot and humid—the clothes on her back sticking to her skin as she kicked the water in the pool, fidgeting with the camcorder she held in her hands. A few minutes ago, the eleven year old girl sat on one of the plastic lounge chairs the hotel provided, and watched as her father applied sunscreen to her arms. “I can do it myself!” She told him with a determined nod, but held her arm out anyway as her papá smiled and managed with one arm—the other in a cast due to a crash during a recent race.

The trip to the seaside was a well needed vacation after the grueling season he had so far, and she was just happy to spend time with him. He looked tired and worn down, but she chalked it up to the season taking a toll on him—that’s why they were on vacation, he needed a break. The hotel wasn’t fancy, the town was quiet, and Fernando seemed happy enough, but there’s something off. A feeling she couldn’t quite place at the time.

He’s quiet—distant even—a faraway look evident in his eyes as he watched her kick and splash water; her small hands steady and careful as she toyed with the camcorder. “Papá!” The girl called out to him, craning her body back to film him. She watched him wave through the tiny screen, his movements slowed by a millisecond. Fernando laughed as he waved, leaning back in his chair, sunglasses on, always watching. “Be careful, cariño, it was expensive.” 

“Okay!”

The father and daughter walked down a street market full of bustling vendors and wandering tourists. She walked closely beside him as she peered at each stall, noticing one that laid out an assortment of jewelry. Fernando noticed her gaze and mussed her hair as she protested and tried to fix it, causing him to laugh. “I’ll get it for you, chiquita,” he said, and watched her smile, baring her teeth as she did. She giggled as he tied the bracelet on her wrist, helping him when he couldn’t pull the strings with one hand.

She fidgeted with the bracelet, the payphone’s receiver pressed between her shoulder and ear as she listened to her mother’s voice on the other side. “The hotel’s alright. Well, we’re not actually at our hotel. It doesn’t have a phone. But yeah.” She paused, looking out the booth’s window, and seeing her father talking to a stranger, a half hearted smile plastered on his face as he listened to whatever the man was saying. “Papá? Yeah, he’s fine—just talking to someone,” she pushed the door open with her foot, hand covering the receiver as she called to him. “Mamá wants to talk to you.”

Fernando bid his goodbye to the man, giving her an easy smile as he took the receiver from her hands and held it up to his ear. She skipped out of the booth, looking around her surroundings to pass the time, knowing that her parents were going to be on call longer. She waited, almost close to pressing her cheek to the booth window to get his attention. And the call ended. She heard them exchange ‘I love you’s,’ and a smile found itself on her face before he hung up, setting the receiver back on the hook.

She sat on a chair, her legs swinging off it as she watched her father shoot pool. Hunched down on the pool table, he carefully studied the sequence, trying to find the perfect moment to strike. “Can you teach me?” She asked, curious. He looked back up, straightening his back as he held the cue stick, looking at her with an amused smile on his face. “Sure,” he waved her over and she jumped off the chair in excitement.

“Mi vida,” he called her and pulled her into his side, her cheek getting squished. He handed her the cue stick, telling her to point it carefully.

The evening sun settled, streaks of orange and pink meshed together with the incoming night sky. Her small hand reached for his, settling in it as they walked along the shore together. The sand no longer felt hot underneath her, it was bearable. She talked his ear off about how she was excited to go back to school, how she was going to make lots of friends, and how she hoped her mother would let her attend his races. Fernando simply listened, squeezing her hand with a small smile. She grinned up at him at that.

The waves crashed against the shore as birds flew overhead. This was perfect. She watched as a few people passed by them. “Will we come back next summer?” She asked quietly, her small body wrapped in a beach towel, her hair wet. She glanced up at the sunny sky, imagining different animals in the clouds, and Fernando paused just a little too long before saying, “Of course.”

On the last night of their trip, they danced at a small, open-air club. She watched in embarrassment and amusement as he started dancing, his arm out and beckoned her to join him on the floor with the others. She isn’t much of a dancer, but she tried anyway. She laughed, he smiled. Someone took a picture of them together, their happiness frozen on a piece of film. It was perfect.

The night was always quiet. The distant humming of motorcycles and cars faded as the sky darkened and the stars lit up. She woke up in the middle of the night, her father not in the room. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room. The balcony let the light of the moon in, illuminating shadows on the room’s floor. She could barely see out due to the doors, but she knew he was there. Knew he was standing outside with his elbows pressed to the metal railing as a lit cigarette found itself between his lips. He was quiet, just thinking. She didn’t know what thoughts swirled around in his mind. She wanted to ask if he’s okay. She doesn’t. And she wished she did.

In the morning, they found themselves back at the airport—their trip ending right before her eyes. She didn’t want it to end, wanting to spend time with him longer. One week wasn’t enough, but she swallowed her protests down.

"I love you, you know?" She nodded. She wished she had said it back. Fernando hugged her, tighter than they both expected. She gave him a smile when he released her from his grip, pulling at the strap of her backpack. He ran a hand through her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead before patting her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. She waved him goodbye as the flight attendant softly ushered her from him with a smile. She looked back and he’s there, a distant look in his face as if he was memorizing and committing this moment in his mind.

She is eleven again. He is still standing at the airport gate, watching her go.

[specialinterestshows]

Deal with a rude awakening in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic, Absolute Smokeshow.

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed) mention, anxiety, panic attack, crying

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 83 of ?): Like A Jobber Without A Work

You awoke in a cold sweat, Marisol fast asleep beside you as you sat bolt upright, squinting in the sunlight.

What time was it?

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and tried to turn on the screen.

Nothing.

That’s when you realized you hadn’t plugged it in to charge overnight the way you normally did; yesterday had been so stressful, you’d smoked more than usual. By the time you went to bed, you were so baked, it must have slipped your mind.

Panic began to set in as you hesitated before tapping Mari’s phone to check the time.

You were hours late for work.

Shit.

Fumbling with your charger, your heart racing, your anxiety decided to give you a recap of your current situation:

Your girlfriend, whose communication skills left much to be desired, is famous enough that you cannot safely live in your apartment. As if this wasn’t enough, now you’d slept in long enough that you likely no longer had a job with which to pay rent. Most of your things were still in your apartment, and your damn. Phone. Won’t. Charge.

Trembling in your hand, your phone showed you nothing but your own reflection: the creases from the pillowcase you slept on imprinted on your face, outdone in prominence only by your knit brow.

“Mmn’sta pasando?” Marisol’s sleepy voice made you look up, wondering how you could have awoken her. That’s when you realized you were breathing in and out far too quickly.

“I’m- I’m late- late for work,” you tried to explain between ragged breaths, “I’m gonna- gonna lose my- my job-“

“Ay, cariño,” she whispered, pushing her hair out of her face to get a better look at you.

Suddenly your phone screen lit up and you tried to prepare yourself for the worst.

Three missed calls from work, a text, and a few e-mails all bombarded your notifications at once. Nothing left on voicemail, which was probably for the better; listening to someone firing you might make you pass out.

The text was from Dominik, but you were far too anxious to read it, opening up your e-mail instead.

“NOTICE OF TERMINATION” screamed the very first unread subject line in your inbox. Your heart sank as your vision blurred, hyperventilation breaking down into sobs.

“I’m here for you,” Mari said, moving her hand between the two of you on the bed - just close enough for you to reach if you wanted to. “Whatever you need.”

Whatever you needed?

What you really needed was a job, or - if that wasn’t possible - a place to stay while you found one. And a place to keep all your things. How could you ask for any of that? The last thing you wanted was to overstay your welcome, or move too quickly with Marisol. Rhea travelled so often… Maybe one of your friends?

Tears trailed down your cheeks, landing on the bedsheets as you sobbed harder, still reeling from the sudden uncertainty. It was then that you took Mari’s hand and squeezed tightly. She squeezed back, sitting with you as you picked up your pillow with your free hand and cried into it.

It was a few minutes before you could calm down. By the time you did, you could tell Marisol was fighting the urge to go back to sleep.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling her in for a hug. “I’ll let you rest more, just… thank you.”

The warm, sleepy smile on her face when you pulled away was adorable, half-lidded eyes looking into yours as she brought your hand up to her lips and planted a kiss on your knuckles. By the time you stood, walking toward the doorway, you could hear slow, even breaths that told you Mari had already fallen back asleep.

Once you had set up in the living room, you checked the text Dom had sent you around midnight.

“I know it’s late, but Rhea wanted me to tell you: Jacy and Thea jumped her after the show. She’s okay, just needs to rest her arm for a few weeks.”

A different kind of worry fueled you as your fingers flew across the keyboard, typing out your response:

“Can I do anything to help?”

Waiting for a reply, you began to realize how unlikely it was that you could help your girlfriend at all. Your financial situation was up in the air, which meant your living situation would soon follow suit - not to mention the fact that you were currently in emotional disarray trying to process it all. Did you have anything left to offer her aside from a familiar face?

Your phone screen lit up surprisingly quickly with the answer:

“When are you free for a video chat? She hurts too much to text right now and misses you”

“I’m free now or whenever else” you typed, pausing for a moment before adding “I just got fired” and hitting send. As much as you didn’t want to give Rhea anything else to worry about (and, if you were honest, admit your failure to do something as simple as wake up on time), she and Dom were both going to be able to tell that you had been crying once you showed up on a video call. You would have to mention it eventually, anyway.

“Are you sure you’re up for a video chat?”

Dominik replied.

“It’s not like I’m going to get any less unemployed any time soon” was your retort.

A moment later, you were gazing at your girlfriend, her arm in a sling. Dom was sitting next to her and gave you a small wave, which you returned.

“It’s just a fractured elbow; It’s not that bad,” Rhea insisted, seeing your brow knit in worry, “They were trying to give me the same injury I gave Jacy, but she’s going to be laid out longer than I am. I don’t even need a cast!” - the proud look on her face quickly turned into a concerned one - “How are you, love?”

“… Really stressed,” you admitted, trying and failing to keep a nervous laugh from bubbling up, “I don’t know if I can find a new job in time to keep my apartment.”

Rhea and Dominik exchanged a look you didn’t understand until Rhea spoke.

“You can always stay at mine if you end up needing to, babe.”

Somehow, you hadn’t expected the offer; your girlfriend travelled so much, you hadn’t even really thought of her as having her own permanent residence anywhere. With another option available to you now, a bit of your stress subsided.

“Thank you so much, babe,” you smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you so much,” Rhea said, looking more than anything like she wanted to hold you. “I’m sorry things have been so hectic lately.”

Dom seemed like he was about to say something, but reached out and gave Rhea’s hand a squeeze instead.

“You have nothing to apologize for; I’ll get through this,” you said with more confidence than you felt. “We all will.”

[end part eighty-three of ?]

Part 84: Ring My Bell

-

Tag list (thank you!)

@babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister , @ripleylove , @teganc

[obsolescent]

Talkin’ Foolish

Pairing: Leon x Reader

Summary: You reminisce on some memorable moments with Leon

Content Warnings: No gendered language used for reader, adult themes, mentions of sex and sex toys, pure corniness and Leon being awkward and goofy as hell.

Author’s Note: This is so…I don’t know what this is but I wanted to have a break between the angst I’ve been writing. This is inspired by things my fiancée has said/done to me, lmao. I hope you enjoy it!

Words: 1,022

Read on Ao3

You’re used to it by now. Well…Maybe not.

There’s still some things that Leon says that makes your brain feel like it’s buffering, dial up tone and all, stuck on a loading screen as you try to catch up to what he’s said. You’re still surprised at what his mind conjures up.

He’s always had some cheesy, corny jokes he likes to use, but sometimes there’s some outta pocket, off the wall, quirky phrases and sentences he’s strung together, that you wonder how anyone could think of. Though you quickly realized it’s best not to underestimate Leon and his beautiful, unique mind.

There’s a few times that stick out more so than others.

Like one time, it’s late at night. You’ve eaten dinner, cleaned up the kitchen. Cookware, plates, utensils all put up. You’ve both settled down on the couch to watch whatever’s on, finding a movie you’ve both settled on. 

You’re snacking on some candy, a sour kind, ones with those sugar crystals. Unfortunately, a few of those crystals stick in the back of your throat, causing a coughing fit. You’re quick to get it under control, sipping on some water until it starts to die down. Leon leaned towards you, patting your back.  “Sorry, just got something in my throat,” You tell him, able to finally get the words out. Now that he knows you’re out of harm’s way, Leon’s concerned expression turns into a smirk. You raised an eyebrow at the change, a silent question. “Damn, baby…Would love to be in your throat.” Your jaw drops, cheeks turning redder than they did while you were catching your breath. “Excuse me?” You splutter, trying hard not to show that you did, in fact, find the joke funny. He throws his head back and guffaws, tears forming in his eyes. “Sorry honey, I couldn’t resist!” He gets out, before pulling you into a hug, kissing your scarlet cheeks. 

Another time, it’s when you two are bare in bed, his hands exploring every inch of your body. You’re on top, pussy rubbing against his cock, from base to tip. Your head is thrown back, enjoying the sensation until he suddenly grabs your hips and lets out a pained grunt. Snapping your head upright, you look at him with concern and ask, “Everything okay, darling?” “F-fuck. It’s…Everything’s alright, baby, keep moving for me.” You raise an eyebrow, but do as he says, continuing your movements. Falling back into the feeling, you begin to moan and grab your chest, while involuntarily clenching down on Leon’s cock. “Damn, baby!” He chokes out, grabbing your hips again, this time lifting you up from his lap. “Grippin’ my shit like Loctite!” You just stare at him for a breadth of time, wide eyed, before cackling with laughter. He soon joins in, both falling into a laughing fit.

You’re thankful for times like these during sex, being able to laugh whenever a mishap or something comical occurs. 

Another moment you can recall, you had received a package, a new sex toy. A vibrator you had been eyeing for some time, waiting for a sale to occur since it was quite pricey. Finally purchasing it, you were eager to get it out of its packaging and see it in person, excited for the time ahead where you would be using it. Pulling out and plugging the charger into the wall, setting the toy on your nightstand to charge. At this time Leon decides to enter the room, curious about the box, himself. Looking at your form bent over the nightstand, he comes up behind you, seeing you fiddle with the toy. “Ah, I see you finally got that cooter buzzer you’d been looking at.” “A what?!” You shrieked. Spinning around, mouth agape with face ablaze. “What? Don’t like the name I’ve given your toys?” He asks, smirking. “You are not calling them that!” You retort, jabbing a finger into his chest to emphasize. He grabs your wrist and pulls it up towards his face, kissing your knuckles. “Well…Can I call them whatever I want as long as I use them on you?” He questions, grinning now. “N-no! I mean…Maybe…” You stutter out, wondering how he can be so awkward and yet so seductive at the same time.

Now, the last thing that comes to your mind isn’t really something he said, but did. 

You had grabbed some dirty laundry out of the hamper, taking it to the laundry room to begin a load for washing. You toss the pile into the washing machine, going to check the bin in the bathroom for any more clothing. That’s when you noticed you had dropped a shirt in the hallway, the piece falling out of the rather large pile you held. Bending down to pick up the article, Leon walks into the hallway. “Heh, my turn,” he says, thinking about earlier that day when you had swatted him on his ass as he bent over to grab a pan from the cabinet. His hand pulls back, giving you a firm smack on the behind. You squeal, the momentum from his slap tipping you forward, causing you to lose balance and topple over. “Leon!” You screech, trying to find purchase albeit none around. Leon tries to catch you before you fall over completely, unfortunately, he isn’t fast enough.

“Oh shit, baby! I’m sorry!” He says as he’s pulling you up from the ground. “Are you hurt?” He asks, moving your hair from your face to search for any abrasions. Your eyes like daggers, you glare at him, gritting out, “No…But you’re about to be!” “Oh, fuck.” He mutters, before escaping and dashing off, you hot on his tail. A chase ensues, ending with him turning around and grabbing you. He picks you up and takes you to your shared room, you squealing over his shoulder. Tossing you onto the bed, tickling you until you’re both laughing and panting for breath. He sighs, leaning down to give you a kiss. “Love you, you little rascal,” he says. “Love you too, rapscallion.” You chortle, kissing him back.

There’s never a dull moment in your house.

[kokoshfts]

The finished story that I was telling on tiktok so yeah just a recap what happened was I think I was in the room with my sister (idk what was on the TV but it was probably sum interesting) and yeah but like I think it switched over to the McDonald's place idek why but there was sum girl I must've went to McDonald's with her and my sister and like there was this like big square thing for chargers (I think it was like not placed right idk maybe the beginning part of her charger was too big) and she was like how is the chargers gone fit here if it's like that or sum but I don't think I cared cause I don't have iPhone products like that but like we thought of sum and was like wait what if we charge both of them at the same time oh wait no first she plugged her phone in and then we said if we charge it at the same time so we was like ight bet if these mfs charge at the same time we buying everything in this bitch so we was all hyped and like she was putting the phones together cause if it connects that way (if I was to describe it it's like when people put they phones together and get each other's number) and like at first we didn't think it would work but then it did like the charging signal thing popped up on both and we was HYPED so we went to the front and the cashier lady was up there and me and my sister was just ordering random shii so we was sitting there and like there was like a machine like putting down icing or sum and I was like ts look like a documentary and we just started dying bruh the worker looked kinda annoyed but she was kinda laughing too she was probably like (can y'all hurry up) in her head or sum and then my sister pulled out this random ass pinkalicous ass cupcake and i was like holon i want that TELL ME WHY the lady went to the back and was like 'aye do we still got those cupcakes from 20 years ago' and they said yeah (idk if i should question if its been sitting there for 20 years or if they just still have it on the menu somewhere) also idk who was gonna pay for all that so🤷🏾‍♀️

[modern-day-bard]

Worth The Feeling

Content Warning: 18+ This series contains explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship. Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 27

I had only just fallen asleep two or three hours ago when the sound of clanking in the kitchen sends me shooting up straight. I'm frightened before I see Mia's head bobbing up behind the island. I twist to see Lana on the bed, pressing a pillow against both of her ears to muffle the sound.

"Mia! You woke her up!" Lana whisper-shouts, chastising her from across the room.

Mia turns with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I wanted to make you pancakes but you have, like, almost no food here."

"It's hiatus," I yawn, "That's pretty much the only time I have to go grocery shopping. I will actually have to do that now that there's no crafty."

Mia gingerly places a bowl on the countertop, grimacing at me. Lana groans, flopping back down on the bed. "It's a good thing you're cute."

Mia blushes at this, before I can practically see the light bulb go off behind her eyes. "I know, I'm going to hit the corner store real quick and then I can whip you both up some pancakes and start off vacation the right way."

"You don't have to, Mia." I say, struggling to get the words out. Water. I need water.

She waves her arm in front of her face, shooing away the notion. "It won't take any time at all." She gathers her wallet from the floor, slips on her heels, and puts her hand on the doorknob.

"Uh, honey?" Lana says, sitting up again. "You're still in your party dress."

Mia frowns, glancing down at her sparkles. "So?"

"So, it's very...revealing. And it's very early."

"Hm, you're right.... Maybe I'll get it for free!" Mia winks, slipping out of the door before Lana can say anything.

I can't help but laugh as Lana groans again. "I mean, you didn't really think that would stop her, did you?"

"If it did, she wouldn't be Mia." Lana's tone is teasing, but it's full of adoration.

"How does she have this much energy? She was plastered last night."

Lana shrugs. "One of her many gifts. She's never suffered from a hangover."

"Speaking of..." I get up from the couch, pouring a glass of water for us both which Lana accepts with a tired smile.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"About 7 I think."

I lean to my bedside table where I thought I had left my phone to charge, but to my disappointment, I realize that I had left it next to the charger. I check it anyway: still dead. I plug it in before guzzling back my water and leaning against my headboard.

"So, you know I'm gonna ask, right?" Lana quirks a brow at me from the corner of my eye. I give her a quizzical look.

"About where you disappeared to last night. Anything to share?"

"Now? Lana I barely slept last night."

Now she looks a bit concerned. "Why? Did you drink too much?"

"No, no. Definitely enough to feel secure on the dance floor," Lana chuckles at that, "But...I don't know. I have a bad feeling."

I tell Lana about last night, sparing her most of the sensual details, but telling her about me and Javi's rendezvous all the same. I tell her how worried I am about the door, and that we can't be certain no one saw us. She listens intently, sipping her water. When I'm done, she looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Do you think, and correct me if I'm wrong, that maybe you're looking for something to be wrong? Maybe...maybe you haven't felt this way in a really long time. Maybe he treats you really well, and it's scary. Different can be scary, even if different is good."

I pull back to look her directly in the eye. "Who gave you permission to be so wise this early?"

She whacks my arm. "You didn't answer the question."

I hesitate. "I think...you could be right. But I also know that we heard something and it's not out of the question."

Lana nods. "I agree."

We sit in silence, thinking for a minute or two.

"He did give me something sweet last night." I reach out my wrist to her.

"Oooo," Lana coos, turning the bracelet over. "An airplane?"

"Mhm. He said it was for conquering my fears. That I should get a new charm for every place I travel."

Lana's eyes shine as she pinches the tiny plane. "I know that, whatever happens, even worst case scenario, we'll be there for you. Mia and me, and Javi, too."

I nod, leaning my head on her shoulder. "Thanks, Lans. Maybe I am thinking only of the worst case scenario."

Lana pats my knee. "Well, if you didn't, you wouldn't be Ava."

I hit her gently, laughing as she tugs away.

Not even five minutes later, Mia knocks at the door. When we open it for her, she has two large shopping bags balanced on one hip.

"You guys! There's a channel five news van parked across the street. Do you think there's something being filmed here?" She plops her bags on the kitchen island, reaching down to slip out of her heels again.

Lana waves her off as I make a move to finally use the bathroom. "They're probably taking a nap before reporting somewhere else."

Mia looks slightly disappointed.

"What are we having?" I call from the bathroom.

"How do we feel about chocolate chip?" Her smile is so wide, and with her shopping bags contrasting last night's ornamental dress and heels, it makes me burst out laughing for no reason at all.

We spend the rest of the morning entertaining Mia as she cooks for us. Chocolate chip pancakes, as promised, as well as scrambled eggs, fresh orange juice, and bacon. We have a feast on the floor of my apartment, watching old movies and recapping the night before. Mia, true to Lana's words, remembers everything despite how far gone she had seemed. They both told me about a man dancing behind them who kept offering to buy the girls around him drinks, probably hoping that they didn't know it was an open bar.

"Dwayne made that joke last night, but he was definitely kidding...I think" I muse.

"No, this guy was so earnest, I almost took him up on it." Lana says, taking another bite of her bacon. I laugh.

"I can't believe my apartment is capable of producing such good food." I hum, reaching for another pancake.

Mia clears her throat.

"With your help, of course. Seriously, Mia, this is amazing."

"Thank you. Keep me in mind for craft services on the next film you finance."

"Oh, I will."

We all take a small nap in the afternoon which does help ease some of my anxiety. The pit in my stomach is still there, but it's covered in a soft layer of chocolate chip pancakes.

By the time that the girls go home and I take a proper shower, I'm starting to feel like maybe, everything is okay. I check on my phone afterwards, dropping on my bed in my towel. I bite back a smile, seeing that I had a missed text from an hour ago.

Javi: How you holding up today?

Me: Tired. I didn't sleep much last night. And...sore ;) how are you?

He answers back a few minutes later.

Javi: Sore huh? I wish I could help you with that... In meetings all day today.

Me: Meetings? It's a Sunday

Javi: My manager doesn't believe in weekends. Already focused on the next project

I hadn't thought about where Javi's next project might take him. I hadn't thought about much beyond getting work done and making sure the number of people who discover us is kept to a minimum.

Me: Do you know where that might be?

Javi: Still up in the air. I'm reading a couple of scripts tonight. They'll have to actually want me of course in order for anything to move forward

Me: They'll want you. Speaking from personal experience lol

Javi: I'd be happy to give you more experience in that department, anytime

Me: Thanks. I'll keep your business card handy

Javi: Please do

I nearly jump when my phone begins to ring in my hand. My mom. I take a deep breath, answering after the third ring.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi sweetie. Your last movie just ended, right?"

"Yes it did. We just had the party last night."

I can hear football scores being broadcasted on a TV nearby. The sound slowly fades as I assume she moves into the kitchen.

"Oh good! Your father and I wanted to ask if you'd like to come home during this hiatus. We didn't get to see you during the last one." I can tell she's trying to keep her tone light, but I know it hurts them not to see me in so long.

"I would love that, Mom. I usually take some of my online courses during break but I could always work on them there. As long as you two don't have anything too big planned."

"No, no. Nothing wild. We'd just like to see you."

My heart tugs. "Let me think about some dates. I can see if I have any miles saved up..."

"Dad and I want to fly you home, our treat. It will be like an early Christmas present." Christmas was practically half a year away. And knowing that I will finally be able to breathe, maybe have some extra time with my friends and Javi, it isn't making me want to visit home right away. I might need a few weeks here.

"That's sweet of you guys. Let me look at some flights tonight and see how I can time it. I have to meet with my boss a few times during the break so I'll check in with him and call you back once I know more."

"Sounds good!" She sounds significantly more cheerful. "I'll talk to you soon. Love you, honey."

"Love you, too."

There aren't too many things I miss about the East Coast, but they sure are one of them. I check my email, yawning as I mark days and times on the calendar that Dwayne had mentioned beforehand. Then I search some available flights, looking for the cheapest possible option. Even looking through the website sends my heart into a bit of a panic, but I try playing with the tiny plane now attached to my wrist. Hoping it will remind me that I conquered more than one flight already this year.

My eyes grow heavy and I glance at the time on my laptop. 7:00pm. Drastically early to go to bed as a twenty-something on break from work, but I'm not sure I can fight it much longer. I hardly slept last night, and though the nap earlier helped ease some of my anxiety, the rest of my body still craved rest.

I fall asleep with my laptop still open on the other side of my bed.

- - -

The next morning, I'm irritated to find that I didn't plug in my phone. Again. I need to put a sticky note on my bedside table to remind me. Thanks to it's already dwindling battery yesterday, due to my same mistake, it's dead. I plug it back in, correctly this time, and go to wash up and blow-dry my hair. Afterwards, I make my way to the kitchen. Though there is one pancake and some orange juice left in the fridge courtesy of Mia, she had a good point. There was hardly anything here since I came back from Italy, and there wasn't much there to start with before I left. I down the last of the orange juice, nibbling on the last cold pancake, as I change into jeans so I can run to the store. I decide to leave my phone here so I can have a full charge when I get back. The grocery store nearest to me is only a few blocks away, and it's early so it shouldn't be too hot. I place some sunglasses on my head before slinging my tote bag over my shoulder, and step outside into the early morning light.

The first thing I see are two large, white vans parked directly across from my front stoop.

The next thing I see are what feels like hundreds of rapid flashes exploding in my face.

I hold up my hand, trying to block it from my eyes. There must be at least eight photographers, at least from what I can make out in between photos. I walk off my stoop, down the front steps, assuming that they mistook me for someone else. Maybe that's why Mia saw one van out here yesterday. I'm about to turn to walk toward the store when I hear a man shout something that makes my blood run cold.

"Ava! Ava Cohen! Over here!"

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

[doodlebeeberry]

Hourly

(for objectober day 6: city)

It wasn't even a bad thing, inherently. They—he—had been waiting months to get back home. Or back to Earth, at least. Their own respective Earths. It had just been sudden. Too sudden. Bryce hadn't known what to make of it.

In which Bryce is left waiting in San Fransisco, and the consequences of having to be patient.

inspired by this drawing by @/sodabottlehfjone that i had life three separate ideas for a while back. admittedly this left the scope of my original idea a bit but still.

Also theyre humanizied here for consistency sake btw

2:58 a.m. An alley off 13th and Cabrillo, tucked between a shooting range decorated with little more than sun bleached targets and a diner sporting a crooked, half lit sign. Clear sky overhead. A dumpster half full of garbage and a skinny grey alley cat sniffing around near its base, where a few scraps had slipped through a torn bag and sprinkled the ground like an inverse confetti. No stars, not with the city light. In red and green blinks, though, an airplane crawled across the sky. The faint roar of its distant engines played Foley over the night.

It took one minute for the monotony to break. Kind of. Sixty seconds, the cat investigated a napkin and an empty grape jelly packet. The plane flew further eastward. Then, 2:59 on the dot, to the second, the millisecond even, and Bryce was there. Not there, then there, in an act so devoid of fanfare that, for several seconds afterwards—fifteen, to be exact—neither he nor the world itself seemed to have processed his appearance. Six months of grass stains were hidden only just by the green of his jacket. One hundred and eighty three days worth of wear showed on his pants, his shoes, his face tilted up and frozen mid one—sided—conversation. Longer hair with faded dye dripped down his head and shoulders and around his cheeks. The very first thing he saw, upon returning to Earth, was the plane retreating over the rooftops. Its green lights winked at him. Sixteen seconds after his appearance the wind blew stiff into his hair. Several strands tickled his nose. His mouth shut—clicked, with the tap of his teeth against each other so suddenly—and he took a deep breath in. It came back out heavy, something between a sigh and a growl and a groan.

   "That idiot," he said. The cat looked up at him, his words alerting it to his presence for the very first time. 

At 2:59 and twenty one seconds, the cat scampered around and away from him down the street. In the following thirty nine seconds the engine whirr faded from the air, and by 3:00 a.m on the dot Bryce was well and truly alone.

There were two ways he took that. On the one hand, he'd been alone a lot over the past six months or so. The plane wasn't massive really, but it was plenty big enough that he could wander far enough in the plug's direction for the silence to swallow him up. On the other, it never struck him as actual 'alone time'. Not like it was in his apartment, or his car, or the whole of Bridgeport, or now, with the smell of garbage starting to reach his nose. On the plane it was just separate. Quiet space. Maybe it was Liam that made it feel that way. Invisible and, if he wanted to be, inaudible above them in Airy's world.

Or was he besides them? Was that how Liam had described it? 

At 3:01 a.m, Bryce decided not to sweat the details. He fished around in his pockets instead, pulling out first a blue sticky note and looking it over the same way he checked his phone for the time. It did not tell him the time. It read him a couple phone numbers, a couple names, a couple different handwritings, a couple too many crinkles along the corners from living in his jacket for so long. He stuck it back in his pocket. Next a few dollar bills. Some coins. 16.65 total, lucky him. They all went back in his pocket. Then came a receipt, a torn scrap of cardboard packaging. 'Charger' was the only thing of note written on both of them. With purpose Bryce tucked them away. By 3:03 a.m he had taken a full, meticulous stock of his pockets. He wasn't expecting to find his phone, having lost it multiverse jumping months back, but the lack of it still disappointed him. Even if he wasn't sure what messages he would've been coming back to. 

A car drove past the alley. Headlights cast out around him, the LED kind that were brighter than the sun, and peeled away just as quickly without ever quite reaching him. Just an inch or two too far. The car in question had been red, he thought, and small.

3:04 a.m, he realized he could see the reflection of the sign next door on the windows across the street. He couldn't tell what the buildings were—shops, restaurants, apartments. Whatever it was, the lights inside were dark. From the distance, Bryce couldn't see his reflection.

3:05 a.m, he resisted the urge to pace. It was tempting, but he bit it back. He turned a pocket nickel in his fingers instead.

3:06 a.m, someone walked by. Tall, but not thin, with hair up in a bun. He guessed it was blonde, or white.

3:07 a.m, nothing happened. He cursed. "That idiot," Bryce hissed again.

3:08 a.m, He began to pace.

3:09 a.m, Bryce replayed their last interaction. 'Stop' wasn't what he'd meant to say, but everyone had vanished, one by one, and shouting Liam's name had hardly seemed to work. He'd given them no warning. Bryce had been telling Amelia a story. Then, Amelia was gone. Subway followed. Then Charlotte. Atom.

   Quiet. A slight shuffle in the air. "Did you—"

   "Yeah. Yeah, I did"

It wasn't even a bad thing, inherently. They—he—had been waiting months to get back home. Or back to Earth, at least. Their own respective Earths. It had just been sudden. Too sudden. Bryce hadn't known what to make of it.

   "are you gonna... can you send yourself back?"

   Pause. "Maybe. Probably."

2:59 a.m. Keyboard clacking. 

   "You've gotta go back"

   Less a pause, more a breath. "I—"

   "Go home , Liam."

3:10 a.m, Liam was never good at listening to him, not in Bridgeport and not now. Bryce didn't know what he was waiting for. 

3:11 a.m, he considered leaving the alley.

3:11 a.m and one second.

3:11 a.m and two seconds.

3:11 a.m and four seconds.

3:11 a.m and eight seconds.

3:11 a.m and sixteen seconds.

3:11 a.m and twenty-one seconds.

3:11 a.m and twenty-two seconds, on the dot. To the millisecond, even. And Liam was there. Bryce was no longer alone.

They stared at each other. Liam clutched the strap of his backpack.

   "Sorry," Liam said, simply. Another car passed, this one blue. Bryce could make out a baseline thumping through it's doors. diner—scent wafted above the garbage, slightly. The tense energy wound up in his gut lessened, tired.

   3:11 a.m and fifty-nine seconds. "Come on," Bryce walked around a proper reply, "let's eat."

*  *  *

The diner itself was fine. Small. A little dimly lit. Empty save for one guy in a worn-out suit jacket slowly chewing on a hot dog while watching a lets play on his phone. A counter with some assorted old barstools and booths that ran along the walls. Glancing at the bored server behind the counter—short and older with an abstract tattoo running along their neck—they sat at a booth beside a window. From this angle, Bryce could spot the moon hanging over them. Yellowed and crescent thin.

He wasn't all that hungry, honestly. He wasn't sure why he'd brought them here, beyond the promise of coffee that would chase away the sleepiness hanging over him. Regardless, he traded away the majority of his 16.65 in pocket money and contemplated swiping a bite or two of Liam's waffle—lightly syruped, and unbuttered—while waiting for his coffee—sweetened, but without milk—to cool, if only to keep hunger from catching up to him. He knew it would, sooner or later. 

Bryce set his chin on the table, slowly but surely giving in to sleep. They hadn't said much since they'd walked in, and it was the quiet between them that kept him from slipping under completely. He shut his eyes.

Liam, moments later, was the first to break that quiet.

   "You alright?" he asked.

   "Tired," Bryce replied, halfway to a mumble. Liam hummed. There was music playing in the diner, a dad-rock sounding band Bryce didn't know the name of, just loud enough to hear and acknowledge before it faded to the back of his awareness. If he bothered to listen closer, he could hear the sound of people shuffling around in the kitchen. Above all that, though, came the sound of ceramics across laminate. Bryce pried his eyes open. The waffle sat in front of his nose. Glancing up, he found Liam looking back. A scrap of waffle was pierced on his fork. He glanced between it, the plate, Bryce. Bryce, for his part, flicked his eyes towards his still steaming mug, then back to Liam. Liam bit off his waffle scrap and gestured with his fork. Bryce scoffed a bit. Once again, Liam  was never particularly good at listening to him. Still though, he sat up and snatched his fork from its resting place on the table, his pinkie brushing the warm mug in the process.

   "You never know when to quit," Bryce told him. 

   Liam held out his knife. "It's been six months"

   "So?" Bryce took it, "plus, they burned it"

True to his word, the left side of the waffle was overdone. Less of a golden shade of brown and more of a dark, dark one.

   "So?" Liam returned. Bryce didn't argue with him. Instead, He focused on cutting up one of the better looking sections he'd been offered. It gave fairly easily under the knife, soft and springy. He came away with a single square, a tiny puddle of syrup pooled within it. Sticky threads followed it some ways from the plate as he lifted it. The song faded out, shifting from electric guitars to acoustic, different in tone but not inherently more mellow. The waffle piece sat patiently on his fork. Bryce did not bite it.

   "What took you so long?" he asked. Liam, once again, paused. "to get here,"

A singer began, voice low. Liam looked just left of Bryce, like he was looking at his ear instead, or the counter behind them. 

   "I had to get Texty," he began, patting his backpack, "for one"

   "That took ten minutes?"

   "It could've"

Quiet seeped back over them. Bryce leveled him, disbelieving, but Liam still didn't meet his eye. Bryce dipped his piece in a thin syrup streak on the plate. He took his time, dragging it through, gathering up a heap of what was most likely artificial maple onto his piece. With one final glance at Liam that, once again, missed him, he bit into it. Sweetness filled his mouth, sweetness and the taste of maple. He couldn't remember maple flavour enough to speak to the authenticity of it—even before everything, maple syrup had never exactly been a frequent part of his diet. The syrup hadn't soaked the waffle completely. It was springy, relatively soft, thankfully devoid of burnt flavour. All told, it broke over him like a wave. He still wasn't hungry, but his body knew he hadn't eaten in months. The dissonance shook up his senses as he swallowed, foreign, familiar, a good reminder that he was on Earth again, even if he wasn't home, all at once. It all must've shown on his face, because he found Liam looking at him again, slightly puzzled.

   "God, that's weird," Bryce summed up, "how did you put up with eating again, the first time?"

   Liam shrugged, "I don't know. I guess I was so focused on getting to Bridgeport I just didn't think about how long it'd been." He pierced another piece with his fork, glancing out the window. "Honestly, seeing the sunrise again threw me off more than anything"

Bryce followed his gaze. It wasn't even 4 a.m; the sun wasn't rising yet. The moon hadn't moved much. It still watched them from the sky. Another plane was slowly making its way across the sky, though. Blinking, red and green. The door swung open, shut. Less than three seconds later the suited man walked past their window, leaving them the only patrons inside. 

   "I guess I can see that," Bryce said. They watched the city sleep a little longer.

A minute passed in this quiet.

Then another. 

And another.

Then, as Bryce's eyes began to droop again—

   "You told me to go home," Liam said, suddenly. Bryce looked at him, but caught the fading green of his hair rather than his eyes once again.

   "Yeah?"

   "You said I had to go home"

   "Yeah, what's your point?"

   "Why?"

Bryce blinked.

   "Why?" he parroted.

   Liam turned to him. "Why?"

Bryce shifted, leaning away from the window to look at him fully. 

   "What kind of question is that?"

Liam, following his lead, turned away from the window as well. He shrugged.

"It was over," Bryce said, "you stopped Airy, you sent us home, you didn't need to be there anymore." He grabbed his coffee, which had finally cooled enough to drink. Sipping it, he found it much less sweet and much more burnt than the waffle had been. Like he was sipping from the same pot they'd prepped the morning before—a likely bet, if he was to guess. At the very least he could appreciate its warmth.

He watched Liam's expression shift, and somewhere along the line he began fidgeting with a stained blue sleeve. Setting his mug down, Bryce nudged the half eaten, half forgotten plate into Liam's hands.

"You needed to go home," He said, "That's it. End of story." Bryce tried to keep his voice firm, certain, as though his thoughts on the matter began and ended here. Consciously, he didn't think of 2:59 a.m, how he'd felt when he'd opened his mouth. The coulds and woulds and formless opinions he had on Liam's fate. Either way, he'd known and still knew now, Bryce wouldn't have been able to do anything about it, not really. So instead, he picked up his fork. It left a sticky spot on the table where he'd left it.

Liam looked at him. His lips were pressed thin and his look measured. Almost like he didn't believe him, or had more to share. But whatever it was stayed in his head. 

Without another word, he grabbed his fork and began, again, to eat.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Duff 17

Warnings: groping, insecurity, food and body issues, manipulation, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far. ♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

You get up to your apartment and lock the door, double checking before you can bring yourself to step away. Finally a chance to breathe, but you can’t.

You go to the counter, plopping your bag on top as you try to gulp down air. The roll and clatter of some unseen object can’t break through your panic.

What the fuck? What the fucking fuck!?

You don’t get it. Curtis, Andy, all of it. One big clusterfuck with no escape. Some weirdo you got stuck with in the club is not your personal pest and your own boss can’t take a hint.

Since when did you become some hot commodity? How could you take for granted all those years of being overlooked? You’d give anything to never be seen again.

You clumsily reach for your bag and fish out your phone. You can barely grip it as your breaths remain shallow and your hands tremble. You pull up your chat with Stephanie and text her; then Isla, then Mindy. You need someone.

You stare at the empty checkmarks. You’ll be lucky if you get a response before the morning. Some friends. 

All your anger and resent boils up until you’re crying again. You were always the odd one out, the third wheel, always left with the scraps and now look what it got you. You blame them. For exiling you to the status of DUFF. For not giving a goddamn shit. Not one of them checked in after that night at the club.

You could throw your phone. Instead you swipe away the more than twenty messages piled up in your notification bar. All from the same person. Curtis is insane, you know that much. You should’ve seen it sooner. You should’ve let yourself see it sooner but you really thought you’d met a decent guy. The first guy to actually see you, but not he’s way too focused on you.

You feel helpless, trapped. You don’t know what to do. You can’t even hide at work with your desperate boss hovering like a shark. How did you not see that either? Well, you wouldn’t expect it. You’ve worked for Andy for almost a year and he’s never tried anything. 

Maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re sending all the wrong signals. Well, you don’t even know what kind of signals to send. When you want someone to leave you alone, they bother you, and when you’ve only ever wanted a bit of attention, you were castigated.

You give up. You get a hold of yourself and count until your heartbeat evens out. You plug your phone into the charger and pick up the half-empty bottle of mint-flavoured sparkling water from the floor. You place it back on the counter and drag your feet across the unlit living room.

You’ll call in, take a day to recover. Maybe one of the girls will finally answer their messages and you can get some ideas from them. One thing for sure, you’re locking yourself up in this place and not going anywhere.

You go into the bathroom, flicking on the light. You look in the mirror and sigh. Are you really the type to drive men mad?

You rinse your face and brush your teeth. You go through the motions, hoping routine can comfort you. It hardly does.

You enter the bedroom and flip off the bathroom light. You walk through the dark. You're too drained to turn on the lamp as you approached the bed.

You strip down to your underwear and pull on the tee shirt you left rumpled up by your pillow. You nestle under the covers and resist another wave of tears. You feel lost. You don’t know which way to go.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pray for sleep. You just need to forget everything. You just need a break. You–

You don’t drink sparkling water. You sit up and hold a cramped breath in your chest. That bottle. Mint? What kind of psycho buys organic mint water?

Your heart hammers. Your phone is out in the kitchen. Shit. 

You get up slowly and listen to the silence of your apartment. You creep towards the door, your footsteps light but scuffing over the carpet and onto the hardwood. You pause just in the doorway as you try to see through the dark into the front room.

You hear the slow roll of the closet door folding back too late. In a moment, you’re wrenched off your feet. You flail and kick, your voice muffled beneath the rough palm as you claw blindly at the figure behind you. His low hush warms the shell of your ear.

“It’s okay, bunny,” Curtis grits softly, “I’m going to take care of you.”

He keeps his hand over your mouth, snug against your nose, blocking all air. Your eyes bulge as you fight to breathe and his thick arm comes up around your neck, squeezing enough to make you dizzy.

"I know you love me. Let me show you how much I can love you..." He rasps.

The world speckles around you, the distant noise of the city pulsing until silent, your eyelids closing against your will, casting you into horrifying black.

[terror-time-again]

Today's the day! She thought to herself giddily as she put her final suitcase in the trunk of her car.

James and I have been excited for our cabin date for months! She grins ear to ear as she slams the trunk closed.

Annie had met James on a dating app roughly 10 months ago. They've been talking for awhile, but meeting up just never seemed to happen. When one was free, the other was busy. Classic.

Annie scrambles into the driver's seat and clicks her seat belt in. Shit. She says out loud before unclicking the seat belt. I forgot something

She runs back to the front door of her apartment building and is cut off by the creepy guy who lives a few doors down on her floor, Scooter.

You going on a trip? He asks breathily. Need somebody to watch your apartment for ya?

No thank you, Scooter. she says in the same annoyed voice that she uses everyday with him, avoiding eye contact as she squeezes past him hastily. Annie jogs upstairs, her breasts bouncing with each step. She looks over her shoulder. No Scooter. Good.

She unlocks her apartment door and runs to the bedroom. There you are she whispers as she grabs her soft suede purse James had bought and sent her on her 19th birthday last month. She unzips the top and peeks in. Lube, condoms, a butt plug and her favorite vibrator. Can't forget these. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees I find a nice use for the purse.

Annie starts to head out her front door again and notices Scooter skulking down the hall, looking in her direction. Scooter quickly pretends to be looking for something on the ground.

Ugh. She goes back inside and grabs her serrated pocket knife that she inherited from her grandfather, sheathing and tucking it in her jeans pocket before heading back out the door.

She speed walks past Scooter, his breathing wet and heavy. Have fun, Little Annie.

GPS says 20 more minutes until I reach the cabin she grins uncontrollably, bouncing in her seat, her favorite YouTube Playlist on a loop.

I hope he's just as nice in person as he is online. I wonder if he'll be weirded out by my sex stuff. Did we ever talk about kink? Am I too excited? Oh God, am I going to scare him off??

Her bouncing enthusiasm leaving her as paranoia and fear of rejection start to set in.

15 more minutes till the cabin.

Shit SHIT should I turn around? No, I can't do that to him, he's probably already waiting for me. Maybe he'll be understanding? Maybe he'll think it's hot? Maybe he'll--

BANG

Annie let out a scream as her car begins to shakily veer to the left. Knuckles white, she tries to fight the car to pull in the other direction, but it's no use.

BANG

Annie had never been in a car accident before. Hopefully this tree has insurance she groans, resting her forehead on the steering wheel. She looks up at the GPS on her phone. I'm not terribly far, maybe he can come pick me up. She starts to smile What a cute way to officially meet. As she reaches for her phone, the screen dimmed with the 5% battery warning.

OK, maybe I'll have time to get ahold of him and he can come get me. She calls him, no answer. 4%. She tries once more in vain. 3%

Fuck. Annie opens her glovebox to find that she forgot to pack a car charger. FUCK.

She sighs, defeated, before opening her car door and stepping out. She walks over to inspect her blown tire. She screams out in frustration. She tries to call one more time. Nothing. 2%

She opens the trunk and tosses all of her bags to the ground to pull out her spare tire. As she turns around, she could've sworn she saw a tall dark figure disappear behind a tree. She stares in that direction, scanning for motion.

God, I'm stressed...

Annie lugs the tire and jack over to change out the damaged one and gets to work, her phone on the ground next to her in case James calls back.

She gets the car off of the ground when suddenly, she's shoved against the car from behind. The car falls off of the jack, flat tire pinning her right hand to the ground. She let's out a blood curdling scream before a hand wraps around the back of her head to cover her mouth. She continues to scream through cold fingers.

Shhh shhh I'm so sorry, so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, a familiar voice. A calming voice.

James?? She tugs at her trapped hand in vain. She tries to turn her head to meet his gaze, but has her head sternly turned away and slammed into the car door.

Ow! What're you doing?! She protests. James, my hand is stuck under the car, this isn't funny! Help me!

She feels his cold hand follow her arm down to her hand, tender from pain. She can feel him breathing in the back of her neck, making her shiver and get a tiny bit wet.

He chuckles quietly in a smooth sexy tone before tracing his hand back up her arm to her neck, caressing it gently.

She squirms but doesn't fight back. James, we can have fun later, her voice shaking, I'm really scared and I think my hand is broken. Can we please just--

She gets cut off by the sound of her phone ringing. Sliding her face against the car door, she glances down at the caller.

It was James.

Wait- is all she can muster before feeling his caress quickly become a grasp. Realization sets in as she let's out a weak scream, coming out as a gurgle. She struggles, flailing in all directions as she feels another hand rubbing her crotch through her jeans. She can feel herself getting reluctantly wetter as her consciousness starts to fade. Her phone dies mid ring.

With the last bit of energy, she manages to pull her hand free. Grabs the knife from her waistband and slashes at the hand on her throat.

Aargh! You stupid cunt! The voice growled, becoming more warbled. Less human. Annie whips her head around just long enough to see 2 pairs of glowing white eyes from the silhouette. Her eyes widen in horror before 3 more arms emerge from the creature, 1 on each of her thighs, forcing her legs apart for the original hand to force its way into her jeans, the last hand wrestling the knife away from Annie, weak with fear.

The knife hits the ground with a dull clang as she gives up on fighting. This is it she thought. Killed by a monster in the woods. The thought makes her even wetter.

She avoids looking this creature in the eye. She feels her jeans start to rip from having 2 more hands start to aggressively tug them down from her hips.

Annie moans softly closing her eyes, accepting her fate but not wanting to look. She let's out a small yelp as these hands tear her jeans completely off, leaving her with just her panties and a blue button up.

Before she can react, the 6 hands lift her up off of the ground with ease. 1 on either wrist, ankles, 1 on her throat and 1 plunging it's fingers deeply into her pussy.

She writhes and squirms in vain as each hands grip tightens, pulling her body more and more taught. 4 fingers inside of her hole, the thumb rubbing at her clit while completely suspended. The grip around her throat tightens just as she feels herself cum, letting out a gargling moan, her face turning red. She can feel her soaked cunt dripping down her legs and splashing onto the dirt below her. The thumb rubs faster. Harder. She tries to scream only to be met by a tighter grip. Her vision blurs as her fingers reach out frantically, unable to move anything else. She cums again, tears flooding her cheeks.

The grip on her throat loosens slowly before completely letting go. She screams, coughing, gasping for air. She looks toward her assailant, unable to think.

Are you having fun, Little Annie?

Her eyes widen in horror, before she can let out another scream, the hand quickly finds it's way back to the hand marks on her pretty little neck.

No, please, i-

It's useless. She's reduced to an airtight gargle. She sobs mutedly as the thumb that was on her clit disappears into her cunt completely. Fisted. By a monster in the woods. The mere thought brings her to climax once more. She feels herself welling up, trying to push the hand out of her, but it did not budge.

Are you having fun, Little Annie?

Another arm slowly emerges from behind the creature. Reaching towards her button up and slowly undoing each one.

Losing oxygen to her brain, all she can do is lie limp and be used. The hand in her cunt thrusting in and out, Her eyes roll in the back of her head, cumming over and over, her pussy clenching on it's wrist, certain that this was her final moments before the creature loosens it's grip once more.

Annie gasps desperately, sobbing loudly and hoarse.

Why why why whyyyyy? Her voice shakes quietly as the hand that once occupied her neck is now caressing her cheek sweetly.

Because the wet, breathy voice coos

We're having fun

Story inspired by @loreandorder

[flyingwargle]

thank you as always for the likes and reblogs! <3 i've been consumed by brainrot for a sunaosa slow burn with blind!osamu so here's a little treat ehehe

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around the corner from the recreation room is a quiet nook that’s flooded with natural light from the window that faces a small garden, furnished with a handful of couches and tables. it’s never crowded, as many assume there’s nothing else in the basement, and the hallway is partially blocked by bulky garbage bins. suna has only seen a handful of students here, either napping or studying like him, and today, he’s fortunate that there’s no one else.

he plugs his laptop into the wall socket to watch volleyball highlights while he eats, tossing the container when he’s done. he settles down for his nap, tucking his laptop on the floor under the couch and stretching over the couch, feet propped on the armest. suna pulls his hood over his head, headphones on, arms folded tightly across his chest. he doesn’t need music to fall asleep - the battery life sucks, anyway - but likes the noise-canceling it provides. it doesn’t take long for him to drift unconscious, backpack beneath his head as a makeshift pillow.

until he’s woken by someone typing on their keyboard.

it beats a steady staccato in the quiet muffle created by his headphones with occasional interludes. suna opens an eye, blinking at the blurred ceiling, unfolding his arms to reach for his phone tucked in his pullover pocket. 1:43 pm. as much as he’d like to sleep until the hour rolls around, there’s no point. he grunts as he stretches, lifting his head to see who interrupted his sleep.

osamu.

he’s seated on the other couch, earphones in, laptop opened. his backpack is on the floor, guide dog curled by his feet, currently without her harness, which is on the couch beside him. she blinks at suna, as if watching him sit upright, placing his laptop back on the table. he blinks back, doesn’t break eye contact as he reaches over to pull his charger free. the sound is harsh, and osamu jumps slightly, head snapping in his direction. the depths of his gray eyes are unlike anything that suna has seen, and he almost thinks the other man can see him…and maybe he can, because he says, “suna-san?”

“suna.” pause. “you’re miya, right?”

“osamu. i’m too used ta hearin’ my given name, with a twin an’ all.” his smile is soft, an added layer of radiance to the already bright nook. “sorry, did i wake ya? i tried bein’ quiet when i heard yer snorin’.”

“oh. no, it’s fine. i usually wake around this time.” well, that confirms it. whatever, until komori smartens up and records him snoring, he’ll continue denying any and all allegations. “i thought only a few people knew about this place.”

“a friend brought me once, an’ it left an impression. it’s kinda hard ta find on my own though; i thought sriracha brought me down a service corridor, but then i heard snorin’, an’ i thought there’s no way service people would be sleepin’ anywhere without a door ta hide behind.” osamu takes his earphones out, slipping them back in their case. “what’s yer major?”