#My focus bounces around like a ping pong ball

[asherisawkward]

So…

I was doing an rp with @sad-boy-coven and a few others where young Caleb and Philip (I was Caleb) fell into the Boiling Isles and then fell through a time pool, eventually meeting Lilith and Eda.

Caleb is initially friendly, though internally suspicious, and Philip is outright antagonistic at times. I’m a big fan of the idea that Caleb used to be as into witch hunting as Philip (and maybe even introduced him to it) but later realized it was wrong, so he suggests to Philip that niceties would be a good manner to win over the witches and capture them off guard.

Then, Philip likely being the child who caught the common cold every year since he was two and nearly died each time, gets the common mold.

See, the thing about time travel is that going back in time could create a plague from all the viruses, bacteria, etc. that you developed an immune defense that the people of the past would not be able to fight (see the Spanish Influenza as well as the growing resistances against antibiotics). Meanwhile, going to the future could kill you due to the aforementioned reason.

So Philip gets absolutely messed up by the modern common mold, so Lilith, not knowing better, gives him the medicine for it. The medicine that is made for witches, not humans. This would likely be toxic, so Philip becomes even more sick, and Caleb panics.

Prior to this, Caleb had been slowly opening up to the idea that witches weren’t as bad as Gravesfield and the Bible suggested. He had been slowly bonding with Lilith of older sibling issues and trauma.

After this, Caleb immediately reverts back to his “default programming” and assumes that everything the connected over was a trap in order to lower their guards to kill them. He then attempts to find his way through time pools to get back to town and see the minister/priest to beg him to save Philip.

He finds the time pool as Lilith catches up to them, but Philip is incredibly weak and at the edge of death.

In the rp, Caleb’s desperation to do anything to save his brother overcomes his distrust of Lilith, and he allows her to administer an antidote for the toxins that Philip ingested.

But…As soon as that happened…

If it matters to anyone, they ended up going to the demon realm because Caleb wanted to take Philip to the beach like he had wanted as a child. So cue feelings of guilt for the unintentional death of his brother.

This is the first post as I do not have character designs drawn up yet. In the actual canon of the AU, I might make it a Clawthorne ancestor (probably Evelyn) that the brothers meet (so they simply fall into the Isles rather than the future as well.) to make it more sensible and not have to worry about “the Bloodyfly Effect” as Lilith put it.

So now Caleb has been left entirely alone, been abandoned by the church when he needed it most, “tricked” by witches, and forced to bury his brother. Caleb would grow up to go on a full blown crusade to destroy witches.

In the most recent episode, For the Future, we see that Philip’s lies are slipping through his fingers—even the ones to himself. Caleb would not have that feeling because of how his brother died. (I am not sure how/if grimwalkers will be integrated.) However, his relationship with the Collector is more positive because it reminds him of Philip’s gremlin energy as a child.

More updates will come in the future.

Welcome to what I call the Relapse Au.

[nicksnosering]

I Hate Myself For Loving You Pt.2

finally wrote pt. 2 to my toxic! chris fic! tbh, i kind of hate it, but hopefully it satisfies everyone who asked for this.

TW: alcohol, slight voyeurism (?)

PT 1

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My hips swayed to the pulsing beat of the music, indulging in the feeling of eyes roaming over my body. The tight fabric of my dress shifted up as I swayed my hips, and I could feel it riding up. Normally, I’d be quick to pull it back down; tonight was different, though. I’d had one too many shots and I could spot Chris in the corner of the room, a blonde seated on his lap, jaw clenched as his eyes never left mine.

He hated when I would show off like this, regardless of how much he tried to tell me he couldn’t care less about me. So I used it to my advantage.

I curved every guy that came up and tried to talk to me, though, as I only had one goal of being here tonight.

To make him jealous.

And what better way to do that than with his own blood?

Matt was currently running the beer pong table, and my eyes drifted over to catch a smirk on his face as he sank the last cup and subsequently won. Beer sloshed over the edge of his cup when he brought it to his lips, and the chance I’d been waiting for finally presented itself.

I grabbed myself a cup of random liquor off the bar of the kitchen and waltzed over to his side. “Hey, need a partner?” I asked, batting my eyelashes.

He smiled down at me. “Yeah, Nate was just about to go get a new drink anyway. Nate, you care if she takes your spot for a few?” he asks, and the boy I’m assuming was Nate shook his head, wandering off in search of any type of alcohol he could get his hands on.

The grin on my face multiplied as I helped him rerack the cups, and I fished the balls out of the one closest to me. “You wanna shoot first?” I ask, and he takes one of the ping pong balls, rolling it between his fingertips.

“Sure,” he responds, locking eye contact onto the pyramid across from us and sending the ball sailing into the middle cup. I cheer and step up to the table, but I can feel myself swaying and my vision going slightly blurry the harder I tried to focus. I lined up my shot, tossing the ball carelessly, and missed by a few inches.

Matt laughed, the sound reverberating through my body as he sidled up to me, and I gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I swear I’m usually better.”

“No worries, I don’t mind carrying.” He winks and we watch as the guys across the table from us miss both their shots. Matt makes his effortlessly, and when it’s my turn, I turn to him. 

“Would you mind helping?” I ask.

He shakes his head, stepping up behind me and wrapping one arm around my waist as the other comes to my forearm. I can feel his body heat pressed up against my back and I scoot back a little more, my ass pressing against the front of his jeans. I hear his breath hitch slightly as he speaks. “Okay, just pull back, and…” 

We send the ball flying through the air, and it circles around the rim of one cup before bouncing into another. “Hell yeah!” he cheers, and I squeal and pull him in for a hug. 

Once the other guys remove two cups and we get the balls back, I sink my next shot while Matt misses. “Aw, don’t worry, babe. I don’t mind carrying,” I tease, and a wicked grin curves his lips as he shakes his head.

The game ends with us having 2 cups left and I squeal and pull him in for a hug when he sinks the last shot. The alcohol is hitting me hard now, and the smell of his cologne mixed with the buzz I’m feeling causes my knees to buckle slightly. 

His hand presses harder against the small of my back. “Whoa, you good?” he chuckles, looking down at me. A heat rises to my cheeks, and I giggle. 

“Must be falling for you,” I tease, and I watch him laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His pointed canines shine under the strip LED lighting, and I find myself wishing they were currently on my neck instead. 

Looking over his shoulder, I see Chris, and his nostrils are flaring, jaw set as he watches my arm wrap around Matt’s bicep. He looks like the physical embodiment of jealousy.

Perfect.

Sending a smirk Chris’ way, my hand comes down to find Matt’s. My lips brush his ear as I lean in to whisper, “Wanna go upstairs?”

Matt’s eyes darken slightly when I pull back, and I see him blatantly rake his eyes up and down my body. “Lead the way.”

We weave through the crowd on the dance floor, and I brush right past Chris, gaze locking with him as if daring him to stop me. I know he won’t, though. Matt doesn’t even know who I am. Chris was always careful about introducing me to people, claiming he wanted to keep us as on the down low as possible.

Unfortunately for him, finding out which party he was going to tonight wasn’t exactly rocket science.

He should really be more careful about tagging his locations in his private Instagram story.

The music slowly starts to fade out as we climb the stairs, and I push through the first door I find into a random bedroom, kicking off my heels. Matt’s arms come to wrap around my waist, and I giggle as he pulls me closer.

My pulse is thrumming as our eyes meet, and the pull between us is practically magnetic as we lean in. His lips meet mine, and it’s nothing like I expect.

With Chris, kissing is always a means to an end. He rushes through it and moves on, usually favoring his lips on my neck instead as he unbuttons my pants.

Matt’s gentle. Sweet, even. His lips taste of cheap whiskey and fresh ginger, hypnotizing me as his tongue slides in along mine. One of his hands stays on my waist while the other comes up to cup my cheek, and I melt into it, threading my fingers through his belt loops and pulling his body flush with mine. 

I push him backwards onto the bed, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He gives me that grin again, and leans back on his hands, looking up at me through hooded lids. The sight is enough to drive me crazy, and I waste no time in straddling his waist.

His hands are back on me, running up my waist until he reaches the straps of my dress. The silk slides off my shoulders easily, exposing my breasts to him, and his lips are on my nipple in an instant.

My back arches into the feeling of his tongue circling the tender area, and I let out a low moan, gripping his bicep. He chuckles slightly, the sound reverberating throughout my entire body. The sensation sends shivers down my spine and a shot of electricity straight between my legs.

Denim scratches the inside of my thighs as we grind together helplessly, and the frustration inside me builds until I throw myself off him and practically rip his jeans off his body. “Fuck, you’re so needy,” he chuckles, and I roll my eyes as I strip myself out of my dress before pulling him back down on me. “Jesus, no underwear? You knew what you were coming here for,” he notes, and I smirk. He has no idea how right he is.

The bedsheets are cool underneath my back when I lay down, letting my legs fall open and exposing myself fully to him. His eyes are locked onto my glistening pussy, and he runs a finger up and down the folds, as if testing how wet I already am for him. He seems satisfied, and comes to stand between my legs.

Instead of lining himself up, though, he falls to his knees.

Before I can register what’s happening, his tongue is circling my clit, and my hands fly to his hair, gripping it tightly as he works me over. I can feel his smile as he gently bites at my center, and my eyes roll back so far in my head, I worry they might be permanently stuck.

Chris hardly ever worried about my own satisfaction before his, and I could count on one hand how many times he’s eaten me out. Hell, he usually skips foreplay altogether, knowing how wet his presence alone gets me.

The feeling of Matt’s mouth on me is equivalent to the feeling of a sip of ice cold water after a 10 mile hike. The pleasure washes over me, and I almost feel as though I’ve been born again, having forgotten how amazing it feels to be the priority instead of the easiest option.

My legs wrap around his shoulders, greedily chasing my orgasm as I grind against his face. He grips my hips, guiding me as his tongue fucks into me, and I’m just about to plummet over the edge when the door flies open.

Chris is frozen to the spot upon the sight before him.

He looks furious, hair parted in a strange way due to him raking his fingers through it so many times, and his fists are clenched so hard at his sides, I wouldn’t be surprised if his nails have begun to cut into his palms. All he can seem to do is watch, and it’s all too much for me.

Matt doesn’t seem to have even noticed we’ve been interrupted, and I’m not about to stop him. I’ve gotten so used to giving, it’s finally my turn to take.

So I take, and I take, and when my eyes lock with Chris’ again, I cum.

My hips flex off the bed, and Matt is quick to pin them back down, tongue sliding against me with ease as he works my orgasm out of me, refusing to stop until I’m thoroughly sated. My moans are loud and high-pitched, bordering on screams, and I can’t keep my eyes open anymore as the pleasure overtakes me.

Once it’s become too much, I tap Matt on the shoulder, and he breaks away. His chin is dripping with proof of my satisfaction, and when my eyes open again, Chris is still unmoving.

Matt smiles up at me, but it drops when he notices my eyes elsewhere. Following my gaze, he turns to see his brother standing in the doorway, blinking robotically.

“Chris, what the fuck? Get out!” he yells, and Chris shakes his head, willing himself back to reality. Without a word, he turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him. “Jesus, sorry, that was my brother. Mood’s probably ruined now, huh?” Matt laughs, and I huff out a laugh as I sit back up, finding my dress on the floor next to him.

“Not at all, but my friends are probably wondering where I am,” I respond, pulling the dress back over my head. I take Matt’s phone from the back pocket of his discarded jeans, and turn it towards him to unlock it. Once my contact has been entered, I hand it back to him. “Call me sometime.”

He stands up and pulls his clothes back on, looking down at the phone and back to me. He flashes me another smile before speaking. “I will, and”—his face falls—“sorry about... all that,” he says, gesturing toward the door.

I lean in and peck his cheek. “Trust me. Everything was perfect.”

With that, I turn and walk out of the door, head held high and Matt’s drool still dripping down my thighs.

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PT 3

[deluxewhump]

The Scry

Chapter 10: Good Intentions, Tied Hands

Prev

CW: whumpee with powers, exploitation of powers, forced labor, power imbalance with caretaker, sleep deprivation, withholding of food, mention of suicide and self harm as an escape from torture

Carlo had been gone a week. 

Max found it difficult to focus on his work. In fact, it annoyed him greatly that he was supposed to drop their planned projects and work on his own again for an undetermined amount of time, because for an unspecified reason they’d decided to kidnap his precognitive.

Not his precognitive. The precognitive. Carlo. 

He got one contract rolling, a small one out of a Tuscaloosa based paper plant that he wouldn’t have wasted Carlo’s talents on. But it was something to have on the books for the week, anyway. 

He told Eddie and Simon what was happening, but they didn’t quite appreciate the gravity of the situation. How could they? They hadn’t been given a scared and abused precog to work with out of the blue one day, gotten attached, and then had him mysteriously “borrowed” for an undetermined amount of time.

God knows what they wanted from the poor kid now, where he was. He could be in the building still, or in California being subjected to more unethical experimentation. He thought of the surgery scar Carlo showed him often, whenever his mind wandered. He hadn’t told Ingrid about that. He didn’t know why, he just couldn’t. 

He did tell Alex Clair, though. 

Alex was the only one at Spartan who seemed to be on the same page with him about the precogs. He was the only one who was as dismayed and alarmed by Carlo’s sudden absence as he was, and he came by often now for updates or to share information.

“Zee said he knows about those research facilities,” he said one afternoon in Max’s office. Max exited his browser and laid his temples in his hands. He was exhausted.  

“I didn’t tell him about Carlo’s… personal experience,” Alex added quickly. “Just asked if he knew about things like that going on. He did.”

“I’m worried about him,” Max muttered. “I don't trust them not to hurt him."

“You two did the best of all of us in the first week. They’re  using him for some shady nefarious precog shit, either to make a bunch of money or rig an election somewhere, I promise.”

“That’s reassuring, thank you.” 

Alex’s cheek dimpled in an apologetic half-grimace. “I just mean he’s useful to them. They won’t hurt him too bad.” He was still wearing a Spartan hoodie over more formal slacks, his half-uniform of protest. “I was thinking of trying to get Blake real drunk Friday night and seeing what he spills,” he offered. 

Max was wearily amused. “You think Martin really tells him anything? Or he just walks around like he does?”

Alex sighed. He ran his hand through his hair so it stayed lifted in a slowly falling blond poof, like a muscle memory. “Yeah, I dunno. He’s a tryhard.”

“I think our hands are tied.”

Alex let his head fall back, tossing a ping pong ball he must’ve lifted from the break room at the ceiling and catching it when it bounced back at him. “I’m so sick of it. For real.”

“I talked to a lawyer,” Max confided. 

Alex sat back up. “Who? What’d they say?”

“A family friend. It was just as a favor. My mother’s an attorney, so I know a few. It’s not good. Basically we don’t have any leverage whatsoever. This is all currently legal with the precogs.”

Alex made a face. “That’s it?”

“She said to document everything. Maybe in a year, once this all runs amok and they’re looking for someone to blame…”

“Martin’s such a fucking snake.” Alex tossed the ping-pong ball again. “And I know he’s not the top of the food chain. It’s just, I see his sorry ass every day.”

Max was about to say something about documenting everything together, collaborating on a record of sorts, when a knock came at his office door. 

Alex widened his eyes questioningly. Expecting anyone?

Max stood from his desk, crossed the short expanse of the office to answer the knock. The door swung open to a hollow-eyed precog swaying on his feet, pale and glassy-eyed.  

“Carlo,” he said, and immediately took him from his escort, a guy in a suit he’d never seen before. The escort made no effort to stop him, not did he comment. He left him there,with Max and Alex, and was gone.

-

Carlo could barely stand. 

It had been bad before, but never quite this bad outside of the research hospital where they’d cut into him. He tried to say something, but a wave of nausea closed his mouth again before he got a word out. Max picked him up without a word. He wrapped his arms around his neck, trying to make himself easy to carry. Max carried him to his little cot in the corner of the office. It was still here. He hadn’t gotten rid of it.

He’d missed this cot so bitterly. He hadn’t slept in nearly 36 hours, and hadn’t eaten in longer. Martin found out that food and rest and water only dulled his precognitive powers, slowled them. Discomfort created an edge. Once he knew that, the niceties stopped, and the most grueling scrying of his life began. Max set him on the bed and laid him down. The bed was soft. So soft. Max was speaking, but not to him. To whom?

He saw Alex Clair come closer, looking as concerned as Max. “What did they do?”

“Who knows,” Max said, and gently slipped the CVS thermometer between Carlo’s lips. It beeped and Max shook his head at the number, showed it to Alex. Carlo knew it wasn’t his fault it was not a pleasing number, but he preferred it when he made his users happy. 

“You’re alright,” Max was saying, brushing his hair back from his hot, dry forehead. “You’re safe now, Carlo. You’re okay.”

He remembered Alex sitting on the side of the cot to hold his head up while Max got him to drink from a water bottle. He swallowed some the wrong way and choked, and Alex helped him up a few more inches to cough.

-

Max’s House. Saturday. He’d never been so grateful to wake up and realize it was Saturday in his life. The thought of getting dressed and going into Baltimore, riding the elevator up to Max’s office made him want to cry.

Max had been patient with him, feeding him broth and juice and medicine, letting him sleep for hours, wake up, and sleep more. His fever broke, and then steadily declined until his body temperature was normal again. He wondered how many times he’d recover. How sick could he get and still get better, every time, like the guy who got his liver eaten over and over by birds?

Max looked surprised when he came downstairs of his own volition at eleven, dressed and coherent. 

“How are you feeling?”

“So much better,” he said, though he still felt bruised under every inch of his skin, and his eyes ached in their sockets. He was grateful for the steady drizzle and heavy cloud cover outside. 

“I have news that may be a small comfort to you. It is to me.”

Carlo pulled himself onto one of the chairs that sat tucked under the kitchen island, which seemed to be the house’s gathering place even when Max and Ingrid weren’t using it to cook a meal. He raised his eyebrows in question.

“It’s a long weekend. No work Monday. No office, no nothin’.”

Carlo laughed. “That really is the best thing you could’ve said right now. Except maybe that Spartan sold me to you.”

Max’s smile faltered, then recovered. It didn’t escape Carlo’s notice. He made a note to be careful saying things like that. Did Max not like the idea of him, or was it an extension of the discomfort he felt at the whole situation? He shouldn’t be so needy. Max had done so much for him already, in their present situation. 

“Carlo,” he said with an air of his telephone-serious voice, and Carlo’s heart dropped. I’m sorry, he almost blurted. That was inappropriate. You don’t have to say it. I know. I know. 

“I think we should talk about what happened.”

No, he thought. We shouldn’t. He wrapped his arms tightly around his ribs and thought of Martin's steady voice in his ear as he sobbed, the sound of that terrible and pitiless patience.

“I know it might be uncomfortable ," Max said. "It’s why I waited until we were home, away from anywhere someone might be able to listen in. But it’s just you and me here, and… I think you need to tell me where you were.”

“I was with Martin Olsen,” he answered quickly. “He tricked me after you left for coffee that day. Tuesday. He said he needed me to work on a project with him. For him. If I didn’t, he said I’d be sent away to a research hospital again.”

Max nodded along. His usually clean face was in need of a shave. His hair was looking a little longer too, dark as the stubble that dotted his chin. “What was that project? Can you tell me about it?”

Carlo shook his head firmly. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Max took on a look of measured disappointment that felt to Carlo like a knife in his ribs. “Listen, I really think it’s best if you do. I’m keeping a record of events in case I ever get the opportunity to do something about all this. Legally.”

Carlo had to look away. He stared at a knot in the wood of the island. “I understand, and I still can’t help you.”

Max put a warm hand on his knee and he flinched without meaning to. He hadn’t expected it, was all. Max withdrew the hand and Carlo wished he’d put it back. This isn’t how he thought today would go.

“No one will know what you’ve told me for now, Carlo,” he said seriously. “It will stay between you and me until a time when it’s absolutely safe to use and I have the leverage to keep you safe from any consequences. I’m not going to do anything to get you hurt, sweetheart.”

Carlo closed his eyes. “Don’t call me that when you’re trying to manipulate me,” he whispered. He meant it as a plea, but it came out like an accusation.

“Manipulate you…” Max repeated sadly. “I’m trying my best to help you. I’m feeling very frustrated and helpless here. I can only imagine how you must feel.”

“But you can’t,” he said, and made himself look in Max’s eyes. “Mr Olsen made me sign things. Confidentiality things. Non disclosure.”

“Probably all illegal, in context.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But… it doesn’t matter what I signed because even if I didn’t, if he ever found out I told you or anyone what he made me work on, he’d make sure I got sent to the worst research project he could find, and I’d never leave again.” He lifted his shirt to remind Max of the scar, of their conversation. “Do you know what that would mean for me? A place like that? Do you know what they do to us?”

“I can guess.”

“I’ll die first. It would be so much better. There’s a million ways to do it. I’m not afraid to do it. Once they’ve got you in a place like that, you can’t. They make sure. You can’t find a syringe, a piece of glass. A good wire. Not even a thumbtack. And you can’t starve yourself to death, they’ll just stick a tube and an IV in you.”

He expected Max to chastise him for this kind of talk, or tell him to stop. He didn’t. “And you know Martin would do this if you told me what you worked on?”

“Yes. He told me.”

Max’s mouth tightened. “Of course he did.”

“Please don’t make me,” Carlo whispered. “Don’t make me tell you. It doesn’t matter. It’s all the same.” 

“I'm not going to make you do anything. Can you tell me if it was relating to Spartan or not?” Max asked gently. “If it was to do with money, or politics, or something else? Was it business, or personal?”

Carlo felt tears prick the back of his sore eyes and let them come. He knew from experience that any charged display of emotion from him either made a user colder, almost angry, or they softened. Max softened. 

“Don’t cry,” he said tenderly. Carlo could tell he wanted to touch him again but was discouraged by the earlier reaction to the hand on his knee. 

“Don’t make me say,” Carlo whispered around the lump in his throat. He was going to have to beg. “Please, Sir.”

Max took a deep breath and was quiet for a few seconds. “Okay,” he surrendered.

Carlo knew he’d played his best hand with the Sir, reminding Max of his inherent authority over him. If he’d pushed any more, Carlo would’ve answered that last question. He felt a surge of relief that he hadn’t. He didn’t doubt Martin Olson’s threats for a single second. And he was glad Max relented. He didn't think he could take it if he pushed him, too, like everyone else.

“Okay,” Max said again, and put a tentative hand on Carlo’s shoulder. Carlo turned toward him and leaned as far as he could. Max caught him in an embrace, rubbing his shoulder blades with his broad hands. “It’s okay, Carlo. I’m sorry. I want to protect you, but I don’t know how.”

Carlo got the sense Max was not used to being powerless. He’d overheard him talking with his fiancée, running up against every wall in the corporate and legal structure and becoming frustrated there seemed to be nowhere he could apply pressure where anyone would care.

Carlo said nothing. He enjoyed the feeling of Max’s arms around him, the weight of them tethering him soundly to his chest.

“Do you want to tell me what happened? Without telling me anything about what you were working on?” Max asked.

“...Why?” He didn’t see what Max would want from that.

Max pulled back to hold the sides of Carlo’s head in his hands, looking at him with raised eyebrows like he might be a bit of an idiot. “Because I care about what happened to you. I thought you might want to talk about it with someone. With me.”

Oh.

Carlo thought about it. He could tell him of the way Martin watched him carefully, finding out what worked and what didn’t. He could tell him about the sleep deprivation, the cold basement office, the lack of food and water and constant bright lighting. The blackouts, the blinding migraines, the sickness, the mounting cost of pushing his scrying powers far past their limits.

What good would it do? If it was sympathy he wanted from Max, he already had it. He wished he could crawl in this man’s lap and make himself very small somehow. He wished he could be unimportant and left alone.

“Later, maybe? I just want to enjoy the day off.”

Max let him go, and his skin missed the places he was no longer being touched. “Okay. Yeah. Of course.”

[mithrilhearts]

What was your favorite fic to write/curremtly writing?

And along that line of thought, do you have a creative process?

(Apologies, English is not my first language, so if I said something wrong,,,)

Hi Chips!! Sorry for the late reply here! Better late than never, though, right?? YEAH!! And I love this ask!!

My favorite fic to write...I think that has to go to Bookbinder//Songwriter - much as it intimidated me to start, it's become one of my favorites to play around with. It dives into two things that I love most (music and literature), and is just some cute slice of life fic that really cheers me up both as a writer and reader. It's one of those fics I feel could go on forever, you know? And to see so many people enjoying it, well, that brings me joy too.

My creative process has evolved so much over the years, and I think I finally have it down! It may not be the most effective, but it works for me both productively, and to secure my mental health.

This isn't in any particular order, it's just how I keep myself organized

I outline my fics by jotting down a series of bullet points in chronological order (which I change to check boxes, so I can mark them off as I go) and then break them up into chapters so I know an approximate length for the fic. I can add or remove details as the story evolves, but this guide is super helpful to me.

I have a spreadsheet that keeps track of damn near everything for me. How many chapters of each fic I've written, when I last updated, what stage my current works are in (what I'm working on, what I'm editing, what I haven't started, etc), and also all my ideas, events, etc. If I didn't have this spreadsheet, I'd probably never finish anything.

I've removed having monthly word count goals - ultimately, for me it just doesn't work. It ruins my self-esteem if I don't reach these goals, and I can't always predict how my brain is going to feel for that month, so I just do what I can, and track what I get done, rather than what I couldn't accomplish.

I've gotten into the habit of working on one chapter to completion before working on another project - this keeps my brain in the same mindset for that project, instead of bouncing around like a ping pong ball.

I have a tier system of fics of importance! So I try to focus the "mithril" tiered fics a bit harder, and slowly make room for new stories (which I try to restrain myself from starting until I've finished other things)

Now as for when I'm actually writing? So long as I have decent music in the background (or some sound), a drink, and a good mindset, I'm content and can write <3

I know my creative process isn't for everyone, and other people have way better processes than I, but this works for me! I expect it will evolve more as time goes on! Thank you for the ask!!

[flinttcanwriteipromise]

Daniel Sousa x Reader

Fits my Time Traveler!Reader AU but works with any of you simps.

Summary: First partners, second friends, and third lovers. When you joined the SSR, Chief handed you over the Sousa to keep you out of trouble. It was easier than expected, considering the only thing you needed to do was not leave him behind and treat him decently, you became a lovely pair of agents. Also, this is a fanfic, obviously we need to give him a lil’ smooch at some point.

Pairing: Daniel Sousa x Reader (Platonic to Crush)

A/N: LOVELY BOY, PRETTY BOY, ABSOLUTELY STUNNING.

—————————————————

After quickly learning you’d never be a true field agent in the other’s eyes, you decided to focus on your new partner.

You spent way too much time in the filing rooms, considering the chief deemed you both his last choice.

Daniel taught you everything he knew about filing, and that was a lot. (His filing is impeccable.)

Both of you found ways to make it worth each others while, cracking jokes about cases, making fun of the other agents, other stuff and all.

It’s gotten to the point where you just sit there in the filing room and talk instead of actually resorting cases.

The only thing you had a problem with was having to endure what he had to deal with just by being there.

You had to watch other agents push him around and mash him like pudding, the ablism is just unbelievable in your eyes.

So you decided to crack back at them, it was getting annoying so-

“No one would trade a red white and blue shield for an aluminum crutch,”

“Oh yeah? Well, I would never trade him or his aluminum crutch for whatever empty thoughts bounce across your brain like ping pong balls.”

If Daniel isn’t in love with you since the day he saw you, definitely fell in love with you just then.

The mans flushin and blushin, “You wouldn’t trade him for anyone in this entire office?? 🥺🥺🥺”

One day you two were walking and talking around the office and you had left him behind to grab something and you came back to him spinning in circles like a lost puppy looking for you. Once he spotted you he pretty much beelined towards you and it was hilarious and adorable.

He looks at you with such admiration and he absolutely adores you.

…Daniel wasn’t really good at hiding it either, you noticed pretty early on

Problem, you didn’t know what it meant.

Every time you looked over at him he just seemed entirely enamored, did he like you? love you? what- what was going on?

And over time… you were enamored too,

You noticed how sweet and kind he was, an entire ray of sunshine just- following you around.

Unfortunately you two never got to talk about it.

When he got promoted, you were thrilled, so proud of your partner.

You supported him every step up until the plane trip to LA, since you were still assigned to NY.

It left you lonely, missing what seemed to be your only friend besides Peggy.

When Thompson sent you and Peggy to LA to help with Sousa’s case, you quickly packed your stuff and got on the plane

Making a Part 2 at some point so :)

[youllalwaysfindyourwaybackhome]

How was your show? Was it ELECTRIC? 😁🤍

It was INCREDIBLE!!! Thank you for asking!!! I just can't even focus on a single detail of it my mind is bouncing around the whole night like a ping pong ball

[sandwitchstories]

After reading @drabblesandimagines heart warming stories about Rei learning about high fives and rock/paper/scissors, this idea popped into my head and wouldn't stop bouncing around like a ping pong ball until I got it out. Thank you for some inspiration! My writers block finally broke!!

I hope you all enjoy it! It is also on my AO3 if you would prefer to read it there! Full story under the read more since its longer than a drabble :)

Jump Around

Rei breached the wall of the Aozora Day Care yard, landing in a crouch before moving quickly. It did not take long to identify the perfect location for him and Kazuki to sit during field day and see everything clearly. 

Kazuki had been very specific in his instructions of what directions their vantage point needed to cover. What he had not been specific about was what precautions Rei should use to secure the position. Rei set up the small area with what he assumed would be ample and acceptable precautions. 

He gave a small smile as he looked at his handy work. He may not understand just what this field day entailed, but he understood clearly that it was important to Miri. He made a mental note to ask Kazuki for more information when he got back home.

As Rei turned to go, an outline on the ground caught his attention. Hopscotch. That was what Kazuki had called it. A memory flashed in his mind.

Rei paused walking as he realized Kazuki was no longer beside him. He turned to find the blonde man squatted down, searching through a dirt patch next to the sidewalk. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find a flat rock,” Kazuki answered, his focus totally on his search.

“Why though?” Rei cocked his head slightly, moving closer.

“Uh, listen, Rei. There are some unwritten rules in life. One of which is- one does not walk past a Hopscotch grid without playing a round of Hopscotch,” Kazuki grinned up at him as he found the rock he was looking for. 

“What is Hopscotch?” Rei asked.

Kazuki gestured to the crudely drawn chalk outline that Rei had walked over without any consideration. “That is Hopscotch.”

“What is the purpose?”

“It’s just a game. Something kids do for fun.”

“How is it played?" Rei was intrigued. 

"You gonna play a round with me?" 

 Rei shrugged. "Why not?"

“Alright, here’s the gist of it. You toss the stone, starting by landing it in the box with the 1. You jump over the square with your stone in it. Then you jump all the way down to the end and back, picking up your stone on the return trip. You can only place one foot per square, if your other foot touches the ground or you land on a line, your turn is over. Oh, and don’t fall over,” Kazuki explained patiently, knowing well that Rei’s untraditional childhood had deprived him of many basic things such as games like this

“So you just throw the stone to the correct square, jump past it, go to the end, come back and then pick it up?” Rei asked.

“Yup!” Kazuki gave him a broad grin. “Time to unleash your inner child.”

“Inner child?” Rei asked. He had never once felt like a child in any respect. 

“Everyone’s got one. It’s just an expression that means to do something fun or child like, just for the hell of it."

Rei watched as he tossed the stone. Kazuki proceeded to follow the directions he had explained. When he reached the final square with his stone in it, he snatched it up, and jumped with both feet onto the unmarked sidewalk.

“Tada!” Kazuki said with a small bow. He handed Rei the stone. “Your turn!”

Rei gently tossed the stone, landing it in the 1 spot with ease. He jumped on one foot, jumping over the first square. He went to the end, turned around and came back, bending over to grab the stone as he finished his turn.

“So?” Kazuki asked. 

Rei shrugged. “And you do this 10 times?”

“Correct. Whoever gets to 10 first wins.”

Rei considered it for a moment. He gave Kazuki the stone and gestured towards the chalk outline in front of them. “It’s your turn.”

They played for a few minutes, Rei wasn’t really sure what he should be feeling but his chest did feel a little lighter.  He gave a smirk as he landed in front of Kazuki, having made it all the way to 10 and back, while apparently square 5 had a vendetta against the giant blonde. “I won.”

“Beginners luck!” Kazuki huffed. 

“Not luck. You need to work on your balance, coordination and gross motor skills. You’re getting old.”

“I’m not old!” Kazuki glared at him. “I’ll show you balance, coordination and gross motor skills! Best 2 out of 3!”

Rei shrugged. Why not? They had nothing better to do. 

Rei looked around the school yard, once again ensuring that he was completely alone. He needed to get home, he wanted to help with the field day preparations. But, there were unwritten rules in life, and he was no longer letting life pass him by.

Knowing he did not have time to play a full game, he picked up a nearby stone and tossed it. His marksmanship once again came in handy as it landed in square 10. He set off, jumping, all the way to square 10 and back. 

Rei gave the stone a toss, catching it in the palm of his hand before he tossed it back where he found it. That lighter feeling in his chest he had experienced the first time was there again. He headed back towards the wall with a small smile on his face.  Maybe Kazuki was right after all and he did have an inner child. 

[awakenthemusic]

Suptober 2022 Day 2 - Pillow Talk

Gen, Short fic, 782 words, Family, Mentions of Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, T for Language

When Jack wants to redecorate his room in a style that would have John Winchester rolling in his grave, Dean has to make a choice about how to handle it.

Under the cut or on Ao3

Bed, Bath, and Beyawn

Dean pushed a cart down an aisle full of pillows, blankets, and sheet sets as Jack stared around at all of the choices, his eyes wide.

I know I’ve done some messed up shit in my life, but what the hell have I ever done to deserve being stuck in Bed, Bath, and Beyawn or whatever the fuck...

Dean chuckled to himself. That was a good one. He'd have to remember to zing Sam with that one later. Serve the moose right, sending him to help Jack shop for stuff for his room.

I swear, you break one measly little clay figurine while your brother is taking for-fucking-ever to find shit in the archives and he starts sending you out on busy-work errands to keep you from touching things.

Jack darted back and forth across the aisle like a friggin ping pong ball, too excited by all the possibilities to stay calm.

Dean grinned fondly at him and figured maybe he should cut Sam some slack. At least someone was having a good time

Jack darted over to a pillow display, plunging his hands into the soft fabrics. “Oh,” He said. “Look at this one!” Jack held up a pillow and bounced on his heels in excitement.

The pillow Jack had chosen was covered in fake fur with a sequined heart on one side and, worst of all, it was pink.

Every train of thought that Dean had immediately derailed. Adrenaline dumped into his system as warning bells blared. From somewhere deep in Dean’s mind, the ghost of John Winchester snarled, “Real men don’t like pink, Dean. Am I raising a man or some kind of pansy fruit?”

Oblivious to Dean’s internal panic, Jack turned hopeful eyes on Dean and asked, “Can I get it?”

Dean took a deep breath and pictured wrestling John’s ghost back into its usual closet. He refastened the padlocks on it and added an extra layer of barbed wire for good measure.

That done, Dean focused on what the hell he should say to the kid. He couldn’t lie, Jack was way too good at picking up on that shit, and more often than not these days, Dean found that he really didn’t want to lie to Jack. Fuck knew he’d dealt enough with his own father lying to him when he was younger…

Not that Dean had done much better, he’d tried to shoot the kid more than once. But Dean was determined to make up for his mistakes and be a better role model, a better parent for Jack.

Jack stared at Dean, an innocent smile beaming on his face as he clutched the pillow that he clearly loved.

Dean flailed for something to say. He couldn’t lie and say he loved the idea of buying the pillow. Just looking at the thing threatened to make him break out in hives…

So many voices in Dean’s mind screamed at him to tell Jack that he couldn’t have the pillow; that he shouldn’t like pink; that, if he started down that road, he would end up gay.

Jack’s face fell and he said, “Or I can get a different one...”

No, that wasn’t what Dean wanted. He struggled to cut off all the voices screaming in his mind. There were a hell of a lot of things that Jack could be that would be worse than being gay, and it was all bullshit anyway. None of that was what Dean really thought.

So what do I really think?

“I think,” Dean said slowly as his entire body broke out in a cold sweat. “I think you should get whichever one makes you happy.”

Jack turned back, his eyes searching Dean’s face. Dean tried to focus on his conviction that what he said was true and ordered his shoulders and neck to unclench. He nodded encouragingly at Jack and tried to grin.

The biggest sunshine smile broke out on Jack’s face and the band of panic that had tightened around Dean’s rib cage loosened.

Dean took another calming breath and reminded himself that the world wouldn’t end if he bought his kid a pillow. John was long gone and no one else in his life would give a fuck what color pillow Jack picked out, so what the hell was Dean even worried about?

Dean reached out, gently took the pillow from Jack, and firmly put it in the cart. He took a moment to run his fingers through the fake fur, it really was ridiculously soft.

By the time he turned back to Jack, his grin felt much more natural. He said, “Come on, kid, you wanna pick out a pink rug to match?”

[zytes]

experiencing my first broad, blue sky in a long while and as I was gazing up into it and letting my eyes lose focus and my mind wander - I began to notice these tiny, white dots bounding and bouncing around, all across my focal zone - a fresh, if not also slightly unsettling experience for me. my first thought was that I might be experiencing some acute form of visual-snow-syndrome -- this is known to be caused by LSD in some cases; and it should come as no surprise why I couldn't immediately rule that possibility out.

but, with a little more poking around, I was able to find a much closer fit in what I'm experiencing: blue field phenomenon. The white blood cells in the capillaries of my eyes, unable to absorb blue light as with their red-cell counterparts, standing out against the stark blue sky as small white balls pinging-and-ponging around like my own personal low-light fireworks show, their movements hurried along by each passing heartbeat. a totally normal and common experience, though going typically unnoticed due to the specific conditions required to witness it (a bright blue surface + a relaxed and unfocused gaze)

this experience could have been terrifying - but instead I find myself marveling at the whole thing. I'm left now feeling an appreciation for the accessibility of information in our era. were I born in another period, I couldn't have gotten such a quick and direct answer to my question and would have been left wondering if this were some gentle omen. a precursor for another, much more serious condition - I feel that I've taken this for granted, the on-demand nature of information that, only a few decades ago, may have been much more tedious to locate, if not downright inaccessible; and almost certainly not instantaneously.

it's also left me with a freshly renewed sense of the magic for, well, whatever it is that we're all experiencing together. reality, the universe, etc - the whole donut. the original everything-bagel. even if this particular phenomenon is localized to the capillaries of my own eyes, and not some grand and pervasive quantum structure. there are simply so many systems - far too many for my senses to ever detect or understand, operating throughout both the micro and macrocosms. but in their combined efforts introduce substance, trajectory, and habit to all the things that I could ever stand to perceive and interact with in my capacity as a featherless biped.

so next time you stand in front of a broad, blue sky - look up and zone out. there's a pattern in that blank expanse; find it.

[purityvalentine]

Anon hate time! I hope you get some good rest eventually. Did your doc ever try low dose olanzapine? It's an anti-psychotic but has super nice sedating effects at low doses. Puri love

I'll get some rest soon!

Honestly I can't remember everything I've tried so far but honestly I...

uuu I'm gonna put medical/mental health stuff under the cut so people don't have to read it...

I'm only diagnosed with depression/anxiety because the system bounced me around a lot so the only things I get given are SSRIs or things that specifically focus on that instead of anything else.

Honestly I need a new doctor who actually listens to my problems rather than prescribing me whatever he's got at the top of his list of things to shove onto people (because the truth is that there's actually a lot more wrong with me that never got written down on my file because the UK's health system decided to throw me around like a ping-pong ball and not quite settle on a diagnosis...)

This mirtazapine I've been given now is supposed to also have sedating effects but it seems like it's not too consistent, or at least the dosage isn't enough to compete against my high-powered insomnia...

[hankrealaudioblog]

Final Project - Hit A Wall

"Hit A Wall" is a split-screen sound art video project. The balls collide and bounce around the room unorganized, creating a suitable cage, with the collisions bouncing around the room repeatedly. This sound is trapped in the room as well as in the screen. At the same time, on the same screen, the audience feels the superposition of countless collision sounds, which is an experiment in sound and an experiment on the net. The sound drives the screen's content, following the trajectory of the ball's movement, and the screen is constantly extended, reorganized, and dispersed with the sound.

The ball touches the wall repeatedly, just like a person's difficulties on the way forward. Initially, the ball is thrown far away under the action of human external force, and when it meets the wall, it bounces violently. Man can control the initial point, size, and direction, but when the ball makes contact with the wall for the first time, it is caught in this cage that floors the final destination of these balls. In the next basket, the ball always wants to enter the frame, but the reality is entirely different from the ideal idea; many of the balls, in the end, can only be in the outside world to watch what is inside the wall.

In the choice of ball, I compared table tennis and tennis; they have different characteristics. A ping-pong ball is small but has a strong elasticity; a tennis ball is the opposite, and on a wooden floor, the elasticity of a tennis ball is further weakened, which was a little disappointing for me. Tiny ping-pong balls are only suitable for overly large spaces if there are many of them, and for the room I chose, it would take at least a couple of hundred ping-pong balls to achieve the desired effect. The tennis ball became my choice; it was more subdued in tone, which is very much like a human character, steady, rather than the frivolity of a ping pong ball.

The power of one tennis ball is not enough, but when two, three, four, eight, or even eighty tennis balls are working at the same time, the power of the sound it produces is immense, a sensation that the images on the screen cannot give, like rain.

The video uses a split screen format, with the appearance of the screen driven by the sound and the trajectory of the ball, which I hope will focus the viewer's attention even more on the sound and give the viewer a sense of this trapped sound, where the ball and its sound are confined within a cut-off screen, like a human being trapped in a cut-off space of reality.

[bunnyfrail]

I as a Stranger am more Sympathetic

Chapter 2

The ice that fell down from the night sky must've come to a halt as I slept. It was too early for sun rays, yet the sky was lit with mottling of grays and whites like marble. I woke up on my stomach rather than on my back which I had fallen asleep on. The clang that erupted from downstairs rattled me out of my dream and back into my bedroom.

Tiny noises coming from what was most likely the living room piqued my curiosity. I wanted to believe it was a doublecaw, but I imagined it came from a mischievous squirrel instead. I had encountered a few on my journey here, and one must’ve slipped in through an opening in the wall for a visit. Over the course of the night, my hair had tangled itself in loose knots as I turned. Between my fingers, I undid the strands’ bindings as I sat myself up. 

A new day means it was time to change into new clothes, but I didn’t want to miss the squirrel. I was also in my favorite outfit; I would wear it everyday if it was okay. Though, I decided I’ll still change only after saying hello. Before I left my room, I checked my phone for the time of day and saw the date was different from what I believed it was. Today was what I thought yesterday to be. My phone also showed me a recollection of the day before which didn’t fit my own. In my hands, the bright screen was missing the goodnight text I was so sure I sent mom and dad. There was no recording of one in my messages, nor an alert it failed to deliver. My phone went back to rest on the bedside table while I leaped into the new day with a clear mind. 

Stairs all the same as before, yet with socks on, I felt the fabric stick as I slightly slipped a bit in my footing on each step. I figure the stairs were at a slight angle. The angle of the way I stepped down them was like I was wearing invisible heels. My eagerness to make an animal friend made me get out of bed too quickly. A giggle spilled out as I equated my windedness with the feeling of leaving a Round Up. At the bottom of the stairs, I peered past them to see if the squirrel wandered into the foyer. I was the only one to make any pitter-patter across the floor below. I inched towards the open doors of the living room.

With a gentle stride to the entrance, I was careful not to startle the little one. A thank you gift of treats is usually something I offer to visiting critters, but I didn’t have any for once. The acorns in my jacket pocket were only the ones without the actual edible nut still a part of it. Without anything for the squirrel to eat, I felt unprepared at the moment. I peeked curiously into the living room before me. My eyes met the back of another person’s head.

There was never a squirrel. The pull at my heart made that clear. It felt like a ball on string, yanked in front of the paddle. My heart felt out of my body. There was a white tarp on the floor and a gun held tightly in hand.

“I don’t know you…”

I shouldn’t have spoken. I hadn’t meant to. My gaze was matched, and human eyes looked down at me. The tug at my heart released and it slammed back into my chest. The thud of the ping pong never bounced back. It rang like an alarm clock in my ribcage. My socks felt slippery on the tile floor. I couldn’t stand anymore. I could only wobble backwards, unable to look away from what was in front of me. The foyer table hit my back. Eye contact broke when it did. I threw what could only be the lamp towards the upcoming footsteps. Eyes shut, I slipped away. The stained glass shattered on impact, but I couldn’t look back from where I was running down the hall. I could hear the pacing synced in with mine. I had to focus on running, or I’ll never get to again.

Did the smooth floor slide me down the halls faster or hinder my speed? I didn’t know. I wished I was faster. The kitchen door was still blocked from before. Why had I been so careless? I was stuck running around corners I barely knew. I couldn’t take time to think, and my feet rushed me down the only familiar path. The basement door ahead was all I saw. Going back down to the cellar, I knew it was an awful choice. I had no choice. The door slammed behind my back, and my fingers scrambled over the doorknob and chain to lock it as I felt the banging through the wood on my spine. The knob rattled as the stranger realized the door swung outwards. In my hands, I held tight onto the shaking handle. That chain wouldn’t be able to hold on if suddenly on its own, so my hands would have to. There was no spider with me, but with eight prickly legs did fear tickle down my spine. A nest formed out of the hairs on my neck, it released its offspring in my skin. Goosebumps covered me like an inflamed rash. I never thought about a home invasion. I never had to before.

This place was not mapped to be found easily. Google Earth didn’t have pictures of this area because of Plainwood, as it is. What luck I have to be here right now. The air felt sharp while I’d forgotten how to exhale. I drowned with no water to the sound of the banging. Was it premonitions of death or dying I was scared of? My grip of the doorknob felt weak with clammy hands. In the dark, I wondered how long I could stay there. There was only the worse to assume for what comes next to my stalling. One terrible moment next to come, and after that, it’s over. I was unable to see any light from where I was. I then thought I should forget myself and give into this fate. There wasn’t an important reason to fight it if this was what’s meant to be. But when I imagined looking down upon myself on a white tarp, viewing myself from outside my body, I disconnected myself from the act. I realized how horrid that would be, in visualizing myself from an outside perspective. I wouldn’t want someone like me to die, so why should I? I should save myself as I’d save a stranger.

The top of the stairway felt colder the longer I stood there. There was no more banging against the door I held fearfully on to. I was too scared to breathe with no noises to conceal it, but reached towards the lightbulb above me. A single light buzzed over my head. They might not know there’s two entrances to this space beneath the house. A chance to flee from here could mean everything, yet I knew I couldn’t outrun someone forever. If I go into the forest, it’ll be harder for investigators to find evidence I was attacked too. My phone was still in my room. I could go hide up there with it. But doors can be kicked down, and windows can be crawled through. If I called anyone, it would take a long time until help came. I could crawl out a window onto the roof over the deck instead, and in the worst circumstances, kick the intruder off it if they try to follow. Maybe they’d break their leg from the fall and be distracted long enough for me to go back for my phone. Hopefully I can get to the phone first. I wasn’t sure I could harm anyone. Finally letting myself breathe in the air, I decided to take action. I was taking too long to think this through.

Down the dark hall, I sped through where I couldn’t see. Going out the other entrance, I found myself back to where the chase started. At the starting point of the race, my racing heartbeat tripled. From the doorway to the antechamber, the chaser came towards me again. I made too much noise leaving my cover. Across broken stained glass, I bit my tongue to not yelp as the pieces tore through my socks at the bottom of the stairs. It hurt terribly, and while up the stairs, my steps slammed against the wood as I jumped over several at a time. My wounds wouldn’t get a break and it would still be too close to not be followed into a room. I go forwards to lead us to the roof.

The window in the master bedroom was open. Another person could be waiting in the hidden hall I was heading for. The curtains blew in from the wind outside. I dashed towards an image of a different window at the end of the hall connected to the room. Windows built down the wall, they opposed the shut doors across from them. In front of me was the end of the hallway. I was greeted with a closet door.

The last window in the hall showed a straight plunge down through its glass. I could escape from this life, but not escape from my circumstances. We weren’t before the front porch roof like I had assumed we’d be. The kitchen ceiling reaches the height of two floors, not one. I had misjudged the layout and had forgotten that. The clang of my fists in frustration against the closet door probably echoed above the pantry. I couldn’t find faith to make another assumption on which of the closed doors beside me lead to the stairs. It was already too late to run towards any of them. If I hadn’t thought I needed the time to climb out a window, I could’ve shut the door leading to the hallway. That door was wide open. I was in the open as I watched the chase come to an end. But it’ll be over soon, and when it is, I’ll never be able to think about this again.

“Thank you forest, thank you sky, thank you…” This was my last opportunity to be grateful, and I wouldn’t have my last breath used any other way. But my farewell speech was cut short by a hand gripping my wrist. I was pulled back from behind as I listened to the creaking hinges of the closet door opening from there. My gasp was followed by the thudding sounds of me stumbling backwards. Knees knocked together, the side of my leg collided against the bottom shelf of the closet. My place had been switched with another.

It was a tight squeeze between the shelving and the door. I clung onto the doorknob and kept the door open with only a creak to know what was transpiring on the other side. Desperate for attention, I felt the throbbing of my leg as it begged me not to disregard its trauma. Ignoring it, I peeked outside to not be left in the dark in hiding. There was a knife on my assailant's belt that was being reached for by both strangers. Even with the gun already in hand, it wasn’t being used. They tussled for a blade when there was no one to hear the sound of a bullet but me. The stranger that stored me with the empty shelves used force to steal it from the attacker. Before I could feel relief in the confiscated weapon, it began being used regardless. I watched the blood gurgle down from a stab to the throat.

I heard the gun fall to the floor with the body. Trying to separate myself from the scene, I slammed the door closed. The last sight my eyes saw would not go away, no matter how tightly my eyelids were squeezed shut. The unwanted image of the stranger hunched over a new corpse filled in the black. The footsteps on the other side of the door were heavy against the wood panels of the hall, yet they got lighter as they went. The stranger was leaving me here alone with the bloody body. It was over. Steam pinched the inside of my nose as it watered my eyes. I was okay, but then why did I feel so terrible about it? It was easier to think of not being here for the aftermath than it was to plan how to go on about from here. I didn’t want to stay here in hiding all on my own. I turned my head away from the red in the hall and started a new chase after my savior.

Out of the hallway and back in the wind-chilled bedroom, I seemed to be on my own as the curtains reached violently towards me. They flowed at my sides as I leaned over the window sill. Below, I saw no one fleeing from any rope that could’ve been fixed there. Had it been a ghost that saved me? My savior could’ve been a spector who’d fallen to a tragedy before. I stared at the ground littered with colorful autumn leaves. They tussled with one another as I kept still. Shutting the window gently, it muffled out the sound of the weather outside. I hadn’t noticed its loudness before. The new hush noted to me of the shrill squeak coming from across the second floor.

Out of the window to my room, a person could climb down the ivy engulfed trellis. The wind swept back into the house and welcomed itself to sprawl over my bedroom from the newly opened exit. I limped by the injured soles of my worn down feet across the hardened carpet, past the steep stairway, to best follow the slight sounds buried from the noise outside. Rustling came from just outside the window frame.

“Wait!-”

I slipped halfway through the opening in the wall, my hand reaching down to grab onto the escaping stranger. I leaned over and gazed upon a face which filled me with dread. My hand gripped the other’s which caused my apprehension. It was an unpleasant hand, yet I clung to it tight.

“Thank you...”

I mustered my gratitude, but my head wasn’t thinking about my saving. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I concerned myself to whether a maggot was to crawl up my arm and wring into my skin. When one of the beads trickled past where my eyebrows should be and into my eye, I forced my attention away from the sting. Through blurry sight, it wasn’t my thankfulness to whom I was addressing that caused my focus. I watched the new pair of eyes raise their sights at the sound of my voice. They stared at me in a way that stole my ability to acknowledge anything else. My voice was always squeaky, but I had spoken through inhales from which no amount of oxygen could fill the deflating feeling inside.

“What a pretty smile...”

I heard the rasp escape through a hollow exhale. My arms were still, but my hands rattled by my wrists like the tail end of a snake. Hands amok to the rest of my body, revealing what I wasn’t volunteer to, the vibrations were definitely felt by what I was looking at.

“You save me but then leave? Please, don’t do that!-”

I and the creature were both surprised by what I said. It was my plan to ask my savior to stay, but what I rushed to do before, I might wish to diverge from now.

“Are you asking me to stay?”

It was already climbing back into the room with me before I could think over my decision. I was rid of one danger only to invite a new one in. My wishings for the peculiar before was comforted with the thought I’d know well of the unknown abnormality. The writings I’ve read were all useless when what I’ve encountered was a different kind. Stepping back, I made space between myself and the window. I couldn’t decide to keep still or to run. My calves tightened, still like tree trunks, as my thighs shook like branches in the wind. Irregular movements carried my savior back into the room. Folding itself in to fit through the frame, there wasn’t any grace in the damp cracking of limbs, slipping through the window in an uncoordinated way. Its skin was made up of the colors of mold on bread; white, cool grays, and shadows of green. The exposed sores and wounds were slimily wet. Tiny holes outside the corners of its mouth could’ve been the burrows for bugs that have been sloppily picked out. Barely any meat was there on the bones, but it looked as soft as an overripe peach; any firm touches could rip right through its flesh and gush. The gray sky shattered outside, and the sun shone through the cracks.

“Hello there…”

The voice I heard spilled out like gravel on concrete. There was an intonation formed not from this decade. It rose in pitch at the fading ends of the words. Words dissolved into hoarse whispers. I listened cautiously to the sound of heart beats which only emerged from me.

We stood in a silence as my fear pressed pause on our encounter. It wasn’t kind of me to view who saved me as a creature of disturbance. I distracted myself from my worry by observing other things. Dirt-stained with fresh red splatters; I noticed past the clothing stains I knew the cause of, there were burnt edges where the missing shirt fabric would have covered the now exposed, recessed stomach. The green fabric tied like a bandana around a head of pale orange hair contrasted the warm, limp strands. Out of the three facial beauty marks, with two vertical on the left sunken-in cheek, the last one was opposite to mine; to the bottom right of the lips. Most unique of them all were the details in the eyes. They were the eyes round as a bug’s. Prominent upper and lower lids had been my favorite to draw. Between them, I saw black and blue; pale blue scaleras and a dark black streak that ran across the center of the eyeball. The streak dipped in the center and cradled the two ink blots dripped into the cloudy-watered puddles. His eyes were a sight I had never imagined seeing.

With a slouched, uneven posture, his tilted frame had his shoulders hung at different heights both taller than mine. His limbs were far reaching and as thin as march ice formed over a remote, sedated stream. The shifting of weight switched between his legs was instant, stepping towards me with heavy footsteps. One foot would drag along and then stop flat by the heel to pull the other one forwards. His arm stretched out so his hand could be held before my face. There was still red on the finger which pointed to my cheek. I inhaled through the nose and accidentally sniffed the smell he brought close to me. With hail melting on the wet forest floor outside, the scent of wet autumn leaves must’ve seeped into his clothes and skin.

His finger pointed to my face, but he was staring at my legs. Itchy from running, I felt the blood flow like fire ants under the irritated surface. It only took a quick check to notice the dark pink tainting around my ankles and thighs through sheer fabric. Green and purple from bruises old and new too almost matched the hues that naturally stained his skin. I had half the colors of the rainbow littering my legs.

“Colorful.”

It was almost calm, but then the sharp snap shot through my ears.

Like a push-button marionette bent over sideways, almost completely, practically collapsed over itself; his spine seemed to have cracked in half with the sound of vertebrae shrieking. The bones cried that no mimic of man should be able to perform such an arch. Skin folded in on itself by the curve, like a splayed accordion dangling off a table’s edge. I held my fingers to my closed lips as if they could conceal the gasp I already released. He had a closer view of my bruised legs by the most self-mutilating method. His upper body dangled and his face was turned upside down. When he slowly wound back up and stood up as straight as before, his head didn’t adjust like the rest. It shifted to a slight tilt I’ve seen before in curious pups.

“Dollie.”

That wasn’t my name.

“Ava.”

I answered thoughtlessly.

Leaning in with his face closer to mine, his protruding eyes revealed more of their whites when already exposed so much.

“Ava…”

I had given who I was over to the danger ahead. A wide-eyed stranger stared at me as I’ve stared at features I’ve tried to memorize before, and engrossed with the grotesqueness, I copied the action. Still very tall while leaning down, it felt less like standing before a person than in front of an unstably built wall. Both could be capable of crushing me at any moment. I forced myself to not look away from his eyes and tried to humanize the monster there with me.

[worldwake]

"Why are you so dumb" Well. I don't process anything anyone says to me and so I am chronically confused. Also I live in fear

[xoluvx]

keep you warm; t.holland

Pairing: frat!boy tom x fem!reader Warning: smut Word Count: 1.9K

“Those were the rules,” Haz shrugged as you looked at the ping pong ball in the red solo cup. You were down to five cups. At this rate, the odds were against you; you would surely lose this match.

Tom watched as your eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to, mate.” He slightly tapped his friend’s chest trying to get him to move on. The gesture was sweet, but you weren’t going to bend the rules. You certainly didn’t need rescuing from Tom.

“It’s okay. He’s right, those were the rules.” You pulled the sweatshirt over your head. The oversized hoodie was shielding your body from crisp air. The only thing you were wearing under was your lacy bralette. It covered enough to leave the rest to the imagination. You were never really a fan of wearing shirts under your sweaters.

Haz chuckled, not paying attention to what was under the sweatshirt. He just wanted you to toss it to him. You did so with a playful eye roll.

Tom’s eyes were fixed on you. His eyes tracing the curves of your breasts up to your collarbones. Clearing his throat, feeling Haz bump his side, he grabbed the ping pong ball. His turn to go.

He missed.

Smirking, you tossed the ball at one of their cups. It landed in a cup at the center. Clapping triumphantly, you high-fived your partner before giving Haz and Tom a knowing look.

“Who’s going to strip?” You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, tilting your head waiting for them to decide. Haz grunted, defeated, taking off his belt. “Lame, but I’ll accept it.” You exclaimed. Your gaze shifted to Tom who was avoiding your eyes. You’d wanted his shirt to come off, but that was only more reason to win.

You were down to three cups. The boys were done to four. Tilting your head, you assessed where you were going to throw the ball. You’d be lucky to get any of the four. Taking the plunge, you tossed the ball with enough force that it landed in the cup furthest to the back. The ball swirled quickly into the cup before hitting the layer of beer at the bottom.

“Yes!” You cheered hugging your partner watching Tom carefully. Your eyes were playful, dancing with his as he blushed shaking his head.

“Your turn, mate.” Haz tapped Tom’s shoulder. With a shy smirk, Tom took of his t-shirt. His muscles compressed as he lowered his arms. Those big muscular arms, you could stare at them all day; you could trace every indentation of his body.

•

“Hey,” you heard a voice approaching you from behind. Turning your head, you saw Tom. He was still shirtless with a beer in his hand. His jeans were hanging low, you could see the band of his boxers. “Can I join you?” he asked motioning to your side.

Snapping out of your trance, you nodded tapping the spot next to you. Your legs were dangling over the edge of the pool. Your cup half empty, its contents now streaming through your blood system.

“Good game back there,” he stated taking a swig of his beer. He was looking at the water softly ripple in the pool. The fluorescent lights made it glow. He watched the way the smaller waves formed as you swung your legs back and forth in the pool. 

“I may have lost my sweatshirt, but I least I won the game.” You chuckled lifting your cup towards Tom who was now looking at you. He clanked his beer with your cup and the two of you took a sip before falling into a fit of laughter.

“This is a good look,” he complimented teasingly moving his hand to motion towards your current outfit: bralette and shorts.

“What can I say? I’m a fashion icon,” you played along standing up moving your arms out and twirling before turning back to face him. He looked up at you watching the water drip from your legs into a puddle at your feet.

Your shorts were short enough for him to see the indentation of your ass as you turned and he blushed when his eyes landed on your breasts; your nipples were hard through the lace.

Soon after you twirled you felt Tom’s hand wrap around your calf. His fingers softly caressing your skin as he looked up at you. Watching him, you couldn’t help, but giggle. His own lips curled into a smile as he stood leaving the beer on the concrete. His hand dragged up your leg, until they were resting on the tender part below your ass. His nose brushed against yours.

He had a weird power over you. No matter where you were, he always managed to make you lose your common sense. He made you forget about where you were, who you were with, and more importantly, that you’d been messing around for months and still hadn’t admitted how you felt. If he even felt anything.

Suddenly, your body started shaking. Feeling cold as the wind dropped in temperature and the alcohol was replaced with nerves. Your arms were shaky around his shoulders, lips brushing against his.

“I’m cold,” you whispered following with a shaky laugh.

“I’ll keep you warm,” Tom whispered in the voice that told you it was game over. You were going back up to his room and you knew what was going to happen. And you wanted it so bad.

His hands slowly made their way up to your ass, gently squeezing pulling you closer as you moaned against his lips; lips that soon connected with yours in a needy kiss. It didn’t matter that you were standing in his backyard and anyone could walk out at any second. You were trapped in his embrace and you savored the taste of his mouth on yours. One hand reached for the back of your neck as he pushed himself closer to you.

“Your room,” you hummed against his lips wrapping your arms tighter around him. The feeling of his bare skin on yours was driving you crazy. Tom groaned still kissing your lips. His body moving, pushing you away from the ruckus of the party.

“Better idea,” he smirked pulling away briefly looking towards the shed in the far corner of the backyard.

“You are not going to fuck me in a shed, Holland.” You warned pulling away as he tried going in for a kiss again. Cupping his chin, you forced him to focus on you. Your eyes serious. “It’s not happening.” You raised a brow as he rolled his eyes.

“I was going to show you another time, but just come with me.” He almost whispered like he was letting you in on a secret. Grabbing your hand, he lead you to the shed. Twisting the doorknob, he opened the pitch dark shed. You couldn’t see a thing until he flipped a switch. The small space lit up and you gasped a little. This wasn’t just any shed.

“What is this?” you smiled looking around. There was a futon and a couple of string lights, where the hell did Tom get string lights?

"Just something I’ve been working on. For when we want a little more privacy,” he added shrugging. He lived in a frat house, privacy was minimal. But more than anything, he’d done this with you in mind. He was giving you a part of him. In this.

You were going to fuck the shit out of him for this.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him as he pushed the door shut pressing your back against the door. Your hands buried themselves in his hair as you felt his hot skin sticking to yours. Your leg wrapped around his waist as he held it in one hand, fingers digging into your skin.

The want, the need was overpowering your senses and your mind had completed blurred in the heat of the moment. You wanted him, all of him, on that futon.

Your lips were sloppy against his, tongues mingling as he started moving your bodies towards the small futon. You were straddling him when he settled on the couch. Your lips tracing a path along his jaw until you were kissing his neck.

Brushing your tongue along his warm skin, you heard Tom groan. A shiver rippling through his body as his hands cupped your ass moving you against his body. His own hips thrusting upwards wanting to feel more.

One of his hands wrapped around the back of your neck pulling your face back to his, your lips colliding in a heated kiss.

You fumbled with his jeans trying to remove the pesky denim as he tugged on your shorts. The two of you blinded by lust and maybe a little more. Your shorts were off in no time and you soon ripped your lacey bralette off as Tom brought you back down to him.

Straddling him once again, he unwrapped the condom he’d pulled from his jeans as you held your weight waiting for his signal. When he gave you a small squeeze, you nodded kissing his lips once again. He held an arm around your waist as you slid on to his cock.

You were tingling inside. Your pussy wrapped around his cock gloriously and you had to dig your fingers into his shoulders to adjust yourself to the feeling. No matter how many times you had sex with Tom, it always felt like the first.

You felt Tom’s lips on your cheek as you dropped your head down near his neck. His hips were gently moving as you adjusted to his length.

But the tender moment was cut short when you started moving your hips. You swayed back and forth, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him with need. The kiss ignited the flame in your body again and with a little more force, you started bouncing.

One arm was wrapped around your body as one hand cupped your ass. He assisted you with each bounce as his breathing grew heavier. Your breathing matched his as your hips started swaying again. His cock was buried deep inside you; each time you swayed you felt yourself growing hotter and more tingly. 

Until you snapped.

Your body was convulsing, your lips parted against his uttering the faintest of moans and whimpers which was Tom savoring on his lips.

His hand slightly tapped your ass as he pushed his hips up joining your high soon after. Your head fell into the nook of his neck. You could hear his heart thumping as his cock twitched inside you.

You stayed in that position for a while. Relishing in the warmth of his body. The heat that was radiating from his heat still pressed on yours was comforting.

Tom shifted a little and you raised your head to look at him. His eyelids were heavy with bliss. His lips curving into a smile as a faint chuckle escaped his body. He brought his hand up to your forehead wiping the beads of sweat that had formed.

“Are you warm now?” he asked cheekily.

You felt yourself blush internally. Maybe it was just the warmth he was putting off or the fact that you were really falling for this guy. 

“Toasty,” you whispered pushing that thought aside.

Your lips connected tenderly as the soft lighting of the string lights witnessed the moment.

idea by @moonflowcrr

[divinefireangel]

Scream Princess

SF9 Jaeyoon x F! Reader Smut.

YES I USED THIS GIF ON PURPOSE 😈

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: Listen. I fucking hate frat boys okay 😂. So this was easy to write cause Jae is hot and I'll do anything for him 🥰 This is the longest fic I've written so far. And I'm proud. I hope you like it anon! I have to warn you, I didn't include the choking sadly 😔 slipped my mind. But I still hope it lives up to expectations 🥺.

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 18+ ages and female readers (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). Fuck buddies/enemies to lovers. We live for that cute shit. Rough sex. Mentions of blowjobs. Fingering (f receiving). Jae calls reader 'princess', just incase I wasn't clear. And it's smut, so your typical smut warnings. Nothing overboard don't worry. But do let me know if I need to add something more. Not proof read. Excuse the errors.

Requested: Yes! By a lovely anon 🖤

frat! boy jaeyoon and you have a love hate relationship. you love him when he chokes u and calls u princess, hate him every other second. maybe he gets so jealous at a party seeing u play pong w someone else that he takes u upstairs to make u not hate him and to let everyone else youre his.

2.8k Words ;)

It was a simple arrangement. When either of you are horny, you fuck. And the rest of the time, you pretend he doesn't exist. Ugh how you hate fratboys. But Jaeyoon is hot. You gotta give him that. And he works out a lot which is very much seen on him and the way he tosses your around when you fuck.

Sex with him is just so fulfilling. He'll give you everything you want. The passion. The speed, always fast. The way his tongue always makes you so hot. Just thinking about it makes you wet. The way he stares at you with so much hateful fire that you mirror, when he's so deep in you. The bruises he leaves when he grips you so tight you can't escape from under him. The soreness you feel after every session of sexual entanglement is just delicious. You hate it.

But what you enjoy most is how he calls you 'princess' while fucking your guts out. The rest of the time, you can't tolerate his existence. It makes you wanna roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. You hate his playboy manners, the way he always acts like he's so cool cause he's a part of the most popular fraternity on campus. You hate how he's so cocky and acts like every girl walking would just drop their panties if he told them to. You hate that he thinks he's better than everyone. You hate him, so much.

And so here you are, at one of his frat parties, as much as you didn't want to be here. Even after insisting that you're busy and don't want to go to the party, your friends and roommates didn't buy your excuses, stating that you need to get a boyfriend or at least get laid. Oh if only they knew. Standing in the corner of the lawn, a red solo cup with disgusting beer in your hand, you stare cringingly at the mess of hot bodies grinding against each other, desperate for god knows what. Yep. You are definitely not attending another such, event.

" Hey you busy? " A voice asked.

Looking to your right, then left you notice a cute guy, who was clearly looking at you. Blinking you look at him with a blank expression. What's he playing at, you wonder.

" Oh right sorry. I'm Youngbin. We're playing Beer Pong and we're a player short and you are standing here by yourself so I thought you could join us. If you want to, of course. No pressure. " He said flaying his hands around innocently.

Well you do have nothing to do right now, might as well follow the cute guy. Who knows, he may ask you out.

" Yeah sure! I'd love to. I'm Y/N, by the way. "

" Ah. Nice to meet you. Are you a freshman? "

" Sophmore actually. "

" Oh nice. I'm a senior. A few freshmen students are still underage, gotta be careful you know. "

" Oh yeah I get it. But you should know that they are at times wilder than us. " Giggling at your words, he leads you towards the table, finally reaching.

" Oh great you found someone. I'm Zuho. " Another cute guy said. Wow you were really gonna miss out if you'd stayed in your room.

" Y/N. " You said as you shook his hand.

" Okay so it's 3 versus 3. You guys start. " Zuho said to the collective mass, starting the game. Winning a few, and losing a lot of ping-pong balls, you were finally happy. A little tipsy, but still sober enough to do a math problem, you continued to play the game, now having more players on each team. Surprisingly, you were good at the game and not so surprisingly, you started to get close to Youngbin. Slight lingering touches on your arm, your waist and the tingle that went down your body when he moved you hair so you could focus on bouncing the ball. Maybe the ball wouldn't be the only thing that would be bouncing soon.

" YO YOUNGBIN! " A booming voice called. Oh no. You knew this voice. You knew it really well. Begrudgingly you turned to look at none other than Lee Jaeyoon. Of course the fucker is here. He's at every party, trying to hook up with random girls who all seem to be interested in him.

Staring at you intently as he hugged Youngbin, You wished the ground will open up and swallow you whole. Why was he here. You were having so much fun. Well who says you can't have fun with him right here, staring at you like you were a piece of candy. Yeah nope. Time to go home. Vibing with the music, you slowly start to step back as everyone at the pong table started to talk to Jaeyoon. After stepping far enough, you turn on your heel, ready to strint away. Feeling someone grab your wrist, you're turned around with so much force you crash into a hard chest, hands going to his shoulders to stabilize yourself. Looking to see who stopped you, you're met with a cocky smirk, adorning the face of, well you guessed it.

" Where are going? I thought you were having fun so I came to join you. And you decide to leave without telling me? I'm hurt princess. " He says, the smirk only getting bigger as your blood boils with rage. This fucker. If given a chance to wipe out someone's existence completely, you'd choose him.

" Yeah well. Since you're here, it won't be fun anymore. "

" Oh is that how it is? "

Nodding yes, you step away from him, crossing your arms as you try to look tall next to his broad, tree like, super climbable figure. Stop it. Don't think of him like that. Not now at least.

Running his tongue on the inside of him cheek, he looks down at you. He looks hot. And angry?

" Well princess, I'm hurt. Right here. " Pointing at his chest, he moves closer to you. Breath hitching, you stare at him wide eyed, as his face comes to your eye level.

" You seemed to have forgotten out arrangement princess. "

What is he talking about. Was he drunk? Sniffing, you check if he was drunk. He wasn't. Which is shocking. Grabbing your upper arms and pulling you near with his hands, his lips move to your ear.

" I'm not happy with the way you were getting so close to Youngbin. You shouldn't do that when you have me. "

" Excuse me. What. " You say, breaking free from his grip. Looking at him, your face screams, 'Are you crazy'. Well someone should.

" What the fuck do you mean ' you're not happy'. Last I checked, I'm a free independent woman, who is single, and would very much like a cute caring boyfriend AND who doesn't just wish to be someone's fuck-buddy. So if you may, I'd like to go ask out Youngbin. " Smiling bitterly, you try to make your way around Jaeyoon, only to be grabbed by the wrist and pulled back into Jaeyoon's muscular chest.

Glaring at you, he starts to walk towards his room, a path you aren't new to, as his grip on your wrist tightens, pulling you with him. Entering the room, he pushes you in, then locks it. Stumbling, you grab his chair so you don't fall. What. The. Actual. Fuck.

" What in the actual HELL is wrong with you! What the fuck dude. Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? Is it cause I was actually happy flirting with Youngbin? Last I checked, I don't belong to anyone. And especially not to you. So don't go around acting like you're my boyfriend because you aren't. And don't at all act like you care about me because the whole wide freakin world knows that you care about no one but yourself. So move, before I kick you so hard you'll have to go the hospital. " To say you were angry would be so wrong. You were furious. His existence infuriates you.

" I like you. "

" What? " Is he for real? Manipulation? Really?

" I'm not trying to manipulate you. I really do like you. And I wasn't happy seeing you get touchy with one of my friends. " Is he a mind reader or something? Probably. I mean he does know what you want when you just whine and writhe under him as he pleasures- Wait no! Stop.

" Why tell me now? " You ask calmly, well as calm as you could get without letting your guard down.

" Because... I don't know okay! I just, I just couldn't stand there as he got close to you. When it could've been.... Well could be me.... " He said slowly. You've never seen him so, vulnerable. He looks like a sad puppy.

" I'm sorry but, are you sure? " Chewing on your lower lip, you wait for him to reply. How can he like so suddenly. It's not natural right?

" I am. I really like you. And I want you to be my strong independent girlfriend. I want to take you out on a date. A real one. Many dates. Please just give me a chance. You won't regret it. " Taking your hand in his, he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. Dramatically, you life your eyes up, only to find him looking at you with puppy eyes. Nodding your head slowly, you swallow. Breaking a grin on his face, he places your hands on his wide shoulders as he connects your lips for the first time this evening, his hands wandering from your waist to your hips.

" Oh baby. I'll make sure you never regret this decision. " And with that he places his hands on your ass, tapping it so you jump in his arms. Obliging, you connect your lips again, wanting to feel them melt against yours as you process what's happening. Placing your on the table, he removes yours and his jackets, throwing them on the floor somewhere. Moving close to your seated figure, his hands find themselves on your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you again and again till you're both out of air in your lungs. He slowly grinds his hips to your front, your knees going around his hips as your hands tug at his shirt.

Stepping back he removes his shoes and shirt, exposing his well toned chest and abs to you. Removing your footwear and freeing your hair, you beckon him to come to you as you bite your lip seductively. Smirking, he obeys you, coming as close to you as you want. Lips meet your neck, one hand to your hair, pulling it till your head tilts back exposing the flesh on your neck to him, his other hand wandering up under your top. Hunching it in your palms, you remove your top as he wastes no time to undo your bra, freeing your breasts to the cool air of the room.

Kissing down your body, his lips latch on to your left nipple, hand toying and twisting the other. Arching your body into his face, you grab his hair, pulling it like you always do. Releasing your nipple with a pop, he begins to undo his belt with one hand. Raising his free hand to your head, he advances in your direction till your chests meet, skin to skin, heat to heat, and lips meet once more.

Without breaking the kiss, he discards his pants, leaving him in boxers. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lifts you up moving the two for you to his bed. Gently he puts you on the matress, hands finding the button of your jeans, undoing it and pulling them down your legs. Staring in your eyes he bites his lip, freeing it sexily he leans his face down to your neck, kissing, biting and marking you with little lovebites.

Rotating your head to the opposite side you gasp when you feel his fingers rub your folds over your panties. Lifting your upper body off the bed slightly your hands grab hold of his wrist that's on your needy mound. Keeping them there you begin to grind yourself on his fingers, releasing breathy moans of constricting pleasure.

" Fuck princess, you look so hot grinding yourself against me. Let me take care of that for you. " He whispers on your ear, chills travelling down your body reaching just where you need him. Letting go of his wrist, you grab onto his shoulders, pulling him down to kiss him again. Moaning in his mouth when he moves your panties to a side with his fingers, touching your wet pussy. Groaning at how wet you are, he easily slips in two fingers in your hole, pumping them slowly. Breaking the kiss you curse at the feeling of his thick digits moving along your entrance.

" Oh fuck. Yes- Please don't stop " You gasp when he touches your g-spot with his fingertips at the same time his thumb finds your clit. Increasing the pace of his fingers, he presses his nose on your cheek, breathing out ragged breaths as he grinds his dick to the matress at your moans. Roughly he rubs your clit pulling out as you cry in protest, feeling empty. Opening your eyes at the loss of warmth above you, you feel his hands pulling your panties down your legs, noticing his hard length, tip so red he would probably cum if your wrapped your mouth around him. Ripping open the condom, he rolls it on his cock, forcefully making your lay on your back as he enters you whole. Crying out at feeling so full with his dick deep in your pussy, you arch your back adjusting to his thick length. Slipping an arm below you when you do so, he licks your lower lip, biting it and pulling at it.

Drawing his hips back just a little, he slowly starts to ease himself in you, body rocking against yours, hair falling down on your forehead, hands grabbing your waist to keep you in place. Pressing your fingers into his back you chant his name, encouraging him to go further and faster. Being the mind reader he is, he pulls out almost whole, before ramming his cock in as fast as he can. Screaming out in pleasant surprise you hug him tighter, allowing him to go faster and faster till you lose your voice.

" Princess. You're so tight around me. Yes baby, scream my name " He growls in your ear deeply, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each thrust, feeling full till your stomach every time his dick is balls deep. And feeling just as empty when he drags out. Your hole stretched out to accommodate his thick girth, making you think it might tear open. Jaeyoon is driving his cock in and out of you so rapidly you can feel you juices leaking out of your pussy, drawing you closer to your orgasm.

" Jae. I'm gonna- I'm close " You warn him, wanting to cum undone together.

" Yeah baby me too, fucking scream my name for me princess. Please I need you to. Scream princess! " Rubbing your clit, he freezes at sensation of your walls closing around his dick just as tightly as your legs close around his hips. Screaming his name out so loudly, your body jerks and squirms shamelessly as you cum on his cock, squeezing his till he's dumbfolded above you and helplessly cums in the condom.

Falling on top of you gently, he catches his breath, chest heaving heavily as you slowly unclench your legs and pussy, also catching your breath, enjoying your post orgasm euphoria. Whimpering when he pulls out, your body convulses around air, still not over your high. Blinking your eyes, you close them slowly, feeling tired out due to the mind blowing orgasm you just had.

Feeling a damp cloth on your sore folds, you open you eyes unwillingly, looking at your 'boyfriend' who's cleaning you up. And who has already worn sweats. Going back to the bathroom, he throws the towel in the laundry basket, returning to the room and handing you one of his shirts and clean boxers. Shyly you put on the clothes given to you.

" Oh don't go all shy on my now when you were just screaming my name a few minutes ago. " He says laughing. Blushing you wait till he comes to sit behind you, laptop in one hand.

" Wait what about the party? " You ask, wondering why he's switching on his laptop.

" Eh. It's just another party. And I have you here now. You're all the party I'll ever need. " Pulling you close by your waist, he makes you sit between his legs, covering your legs with his comforter. Throwing a pillow on top of the comforter, he places the laptop on it, playing a newly released movie. Nuzzling into your neck, he pulls you closer and wraps his arms around your frame as you both started your first binge session.

[poisonpercy]

humbling request for more ahs ballpoint pen content 🙏🏼 🙏🏼 🙏🏼 please?

I’ll make more eventually, I promise. I’m just currently working on content for other fandoms right now because my interests and focus on things bounce around like a ping pong ball :)