#i wake up to catch a bus; if i miss it i can always call an uber but that's worth like 12 bus rides lmao

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Thats never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[runa-falls]

my turn

part 1 | part 2

pairing: marc spector x reader (a bit of steven grant x reader)

summary: marc has had enough of watching you take advantage of steven and not him...

cw: smut (18+), voyeurism, masturbation, rough sex, dirty talk, degrading words, pining omg so much pining, angst, creampie, fluff?, ft. steven

wc: 3.4k

a/n: long time coming (cumming) -- i just realized i barely have marc fics so hopefully this holds up to expectations!

masterlist

----

You know Marc. But you wouldn't necessarily say that you're friends. And even if you were, you're definitely not 'friendly' with him the way you are with Steven.

If you were to ask him though, it wasn't for the lack of trying.

Since you've met Steven, Marc has merely been a shadow behind him, stopping in to check on Steven's personal life every so often before disappearing again.

What you aren't aware of, though, is that the only time he trifles in Steven's life is when he gets to see you.

Usually, Marc is uninterested in the daily life of his other half.

Steven wakes up, catches (or misses) the bus, gets to work, grabs some food on the way home, then calls it a day. It's a bland routine that Marc set up specifically to make sure that Steven is safe and sane. So, of course, when there's a change, Marc starts to pay attention.

Suddenly, out of the blue, you're everywhere.

A smile in the background of Steven's phone, a sticky note on the fridge reminding him to get more blueberries, and the oversized sweater you leave on the armchair one day that Steven steals whenever you're away.

He has no idea how you came into the picture, how he's never noticed you, or how Steven of all people captured your attention.

All he knows is that Steven is fumbling. Hard.

Marc had no idea what the nature of your relationship was until he had a front row ticket to one of your friendly favors.

---

Steven isn't subtle about his feelings. Anytime he's exceptionally scared or excited, Marc is called forward by his subconscious mind just in case he's in danger.

Usually, Marc is forced to front when Steven is about to burn his flat down from his nth attempt at cooking, or when he nearly walks into a busy intersection because he has his nose stuck in a book. But he never expected this.

He knew you liked to baby Steven. Take care of him because he had no one else to turn to (except Gus of course), but he just assumed you were being friendly, a kind soul willing to take Steven under your wing.

Nothing could have prepared him for when he woke up to the sight of you on your knees in front of him. It's odd being in the back seat of his body while Steven is getting all of your attention. He can feel everything, from the way your soft lips brush so sweetly against his cock to the hot suction of your mouth, but there's something that's holding him back from taking what he wants.

He wants so badly to bury his hand in your hair and push you down onto him until you're making a mess of yourself, eyes welling with pretty tears and drool dripping down your chin. He needs to tell you what a good girl you're being for him, so desperate for his cock in your throat. He wants to pick you up and carry you over to the bed to show you just how beautiful you are.

He wants you to look up and know it's him.

But he can't. Because who knows when this development started.

You acted platonically just the other day, and now, you're begging for Steven to cum on your tits.

What are you to each other?

If interferes now and messes this up for Steven, you might leave their lives altogether. Damn, how have you lured him into your clutches without even talking to him?

For all he knows, it could be a one-off thing...

---

It's decidedly not a one-off thing.

Marc has barely had the chance to front since the first time you made a move on Steven. You're always coming over, whether it's a spontaneous movie night or an offer to cook Steven some dinner, you always find a way to slither your way back into his bed. Not that Steven minds.

But Marc does.

With each fumbling move that Steven makes, Marc gets pushed closer to the edge. He could do it so much better. Make it clear that you're wanted. Give you the pleasure you deserve.

He cringes inside with every wary arm that gets thrown over your shoulder during a movie (one of Steven's signature moves to get you to cuddle -- somehow it works, every time). With the messy, unpracticed kisses that Steven haphazardly presses against your sweet lips.

He physically holds himself back from taking control of the body whenever you fall asleep in Steven's arms. He wants to hold you, feel your body molded against his, even if you have no idea it's him.

It's painful watching the two of you walk circles around the truth.

"I'm always thinking about you." Just tell her that you like her, you idiot! What is there to be afraid of? She looks at you like you painted the stars and hung the moon!

At this point, he doesn't even know why he tries.

Whenever you're around, Steven has total tunnel vision. He practically follows you around like some lost puppy. He lets sweet words spill from his lips without even thinking first and you lap up any type of affection he'll give you.

It's a vicious cycle of obliviousness.

Steven is a lost cause. But he isn't.

He can't take it anymore. He can't take waking up with a lingering taste of you on his tongue, or seeing your lovesick smile directed at someone else. He can't take the way you treat him like a stranger, like someone to avoid.

He wants you. So he's going to show you.

---

It's been a long day.

Marc's been out, jumping on top of roofs and kicking ass, all while Steven's 'sweetheart' blows up his phone.

Marc narrows his eyes, shuffling through all the smiley faces and hearts that litter your messages (and the thumbs up messages from Steven).

This book made me think of you <3

A cute little picture of you holding a book next to your face stares back at him, painting his face in a soft glow as he stands in the darkness of the night. He wants to crush the device in his hand.

Call me when you get home safe :)

You know exactly where Marc is right now, and what his life consists of, but you always avoid talking about him directly. You're always just waiting for Steven to come home so he can sleepily tell you he's back in bed and give you the green light to come over and snuggle your face into his chest.

Marc likes to think that he makes measured decisions, but what he does next is completely out of character:

Come over.

---

He's a little impatient, sitting on his worn couch as he waits for you to show up. You said you'd be 20 minutes, but it's been 30 since he texted you.

Sory thought the cookies would be done earlier! I'm otw now!

Your hastily typed out text blinks up from the forgotten phone that lies next to him. He read the sheepish reply when you sent it, but didn't bother to text back because of course you baked cookies for Steven.

He's starting to regret tricking you over. All he can think about is the inevitable rejection he'll get once you realize he's not Steven.

Marc leans back against the collection of overstuffed pillows and (your) gifted squish-mallows that decorate the couch, not caring that he's taking up as much space as possible. Flashes of your time with Steven override his doubts, reminding him of the softness that only you can provide.

He doesn't even realize he's unbuttoning his pants until his hand slips himself out of his briefs. Fuck, he's already so hard just thinking about you.

He doesn't want to get himself too worked up so he attempts to take it slow, stroking and squeezing himself until he's teetering at the edge, pretending that it's your hand instead of his. He quickly gets lost in the feeling, floating in a euphoric dream of you and your touch. It isn't until he hears the door click open that he returns to reality.

You're here. The thought alone nearly makes him spill over himself.

"Steven!"

-- And he's good.

"I'm here--oof," He hears you run into a kitchen stool, "why is it so dark in here?"

He should shove himself back into his pants and greet you like a normal human being, but some sick thing inside of him wants you to see what you do to him.

You place a container of freshly baked cookies on the counter with a smile, satisfied with your work and excited to see him try one. You've been working on a new vegan snickerdoodle recipe just for him.

A sweet treat for your sweet treat. You nearly giggle at your thoughts.

You take a second to smooth down any wrinkles on your dress, desperate to look nice for him. Steven has no idea how obsessed with him you are. You want him all the time. You're constantly craving to coax out soft whines and stutters from your favorite boy.

You look around the dim flat.

Where the hell is he?

Usually you'd find him in front of his makeshift desk, sprawling through various books under a harsh lamp, but tonight his spot is empty.

A soft grunt guides you to the couch, your usual movie night spot. No way he's starting without you.

"Ah, there you are." You're slightly put out that he doesn't move to greet you, but maybe Marc's mission just took a particularly harsh toll on his body.

It's only when you're standing at the side of the couch that he meets your eyes. And you meet his...hard cock, desperately throbbing in his hand. What a sight. Your eyes nearly glaze over at the sight of his mussed hair and laid back positioning.

He just looks up at you, casually. He's been expecting you. He wants you to watch him. It makes it that much more delicious.

He doesn't shy back at your presence. If anything, he sits up to give you a better view. His hand moves methodically -- controlled, stroking himself from tip to base as his half-lidded eyes stare straight back at you.

His dark look and posture nearly make him unrecognizable. It's not just the clothes he's wearing, or the 5 o'clock shadow, but the way he furrows his eyebrows and grips himself so confidently, like he does it all the time.

You shake off the odd feeling settling in your stomach and move over to him with the practiced grace that usually makes him weak in the knees for you.

"Mm...Steven...you're quite needy right now, aren't you?"

He raises a dark eyebrow, briefly squeezing himself in his hand as he unabashedly takes in your figure, draped in a soft dress. He's not backing down like you're used to. At this point, he's supposed to be begging for you to touch him, not staring you down like you're a piece of meat.

"M'not Steven, sweetheart." His voice makes you freeze in front of him and all of the confidence you once held rushes out of your body.

"M-marc?"

A cynical smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You remember me?"

You capture your bottom lip into your mouth, holding yourself back from crawling on top of him and skipping the conversation. The dark and intense version of your lover is serving himself up on a silver platter, and all you can do is watch.

"Why wouldn't I?" He shrugs.

You can tell he's enjoying this, watching you squirm uncomfortably as he teases himself right in front of you. He touches himself like it's an afterthought, something to simply accompany the sight of you.

"W-where's Steven? I was supposed to meet him here..."

"I'm the one who texted you."

You freeze, not knowing what to do.

He wants you here?

He wants you?

"You...?"

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna be a good girl for me like you are with Steven?"

What would Steven think?

"I-I don't know..."

"C'mon, you're always dying to suck him off."

Your face flushes at his bluntness. Are you that obvious?

A hand comes up to hold you by the waist before you're pulled closer to him. He looks up at you, eye-level with your chest, looking as predatory as ever, despite his position under you.

"What's the difference, hm?" He slides a warm hand under the hem of your dress, gently caressing the bare skin of your outer thigh. "It's the same body on top of you. The same cock stretching you out..." You shiver when you feel his fingers tease the edge of your panties, the deep red lace you picked out specially for Steven. "...even the same cum filling you up."

You look down, mesmerized by the way his hand moves under the thin fabric of your dress. You watch his shrouded arm pull at the fabric until it barely brushes at your upper thigh as his hand slides up over the softness of your stomach and the dips of your ribs, before stopping at the curve of your breast.

"You want this."

It's not a question, it's a statement. And he's right.

He watches your eyes flutter close as he cups you in his hand. Despite the heat in his eyes, he handles you so softly. Like you're a porcelain doll in his hands. It's a familiar touch, but there's a hint of something more.

"Steven..." You breathe out. It's said out of habit. This feeling inside of you has only been associated with one person. It's always been him. But now, a whole other side of yourself is opening up.

You quickly realize your mistake when his grip tightens around your waist and on your breast, demanding your attention.

"No." His voice is low, "Not him."

"M-marc."

He hums and rewards you with a teasing flick of his thumb over your nipple. You're disappointed when his touch suddenly leaves you, but before you can complain, he begins to work his pants all the way off.

"Don't worry about him, sweetheart." He pulls you close enough that you nearly fall over him, causing you to straddle his lap and sit chest-to-chest. "Tonight's about us." The skirt of your dress falls around your thighs, shielding the way his length presses against your inner thigh.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, flustered by the feeling of his hot body against yours, at the idea that this is really happening.

You breathe in once. Is that..?

And then, once again.

He smells like him.

"You good, baby?" He rubs over the tops of your thighs comfortingly while subtly shoving your skirt up to your waist.

"Mhm..." You hum against his skin, relishing in the feeling of his embrace. You experimentally push your hips against his, grinding your needy center against his. He groans at the contact and cants his hips upwards, forcing you to feel just how hard he is.

Your cunt pulses in desperation as he continues to rut against your clothed clit. You're nearly soaking through your underwear with how wet you are. And by the way he groans against you, he can tell.

An eager hand shoves between your bodies to shove your panties to the side. "Need to feel you." He drags a finger against you, spreading your slick until it runs down the palm of his hand. "Fuck. You're so ready for me."

"P-please." It's a hushed whisper against his shoulder, but he hears it loud and clear.

"Please, what?" He pushes you back, forcing you to look at him as he lines himself up. Heat pricks at the tops of your cheeks before you cast your eyes downwards.

Is he really going to make you say it?

"M-marc." You whimper as he brushes the tip of his cock through the seam of your cunt, covering himself with your lust. He mouths at your neck, ignoring your pleas by keeping himself busy sucking bites and bruises into your skin. "Please, fuck me, Marc."

He barely gives you a second before he's pushing in with a single fluid motion. The feeling is indescribable. How can he share a body with Steven, but make this feel so different?

"So big..." You gasp out, thighs trembling around his.

"Taking me so well, baby. Just let me in."

He pushes up until you're filled to the brim, drawing out a broken moan from your lips. The stretch is exquisite in this position. You feel like you've never felt anyone as deeply as he is right now.

As soon as he's sure you're comfortable, he starts moving, grinding up against you until you're looping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. You're mewls fill the room as his cock drags perfectly against your slick walls. You arch your back and start moving over him, desperate to feel him entirely.

He watches you bounce on his lap, timing his movements so his thrusts meet yours.

"Such a greedy slut aren't you?" His harsh words are punctuated with sharp thrusts, causing you to clench around him involuntarily. The sensation almost leaves him breathless, but he continues talking through gritted teeth. "You couldn't get enough from Steven, hm?"

His pants turn into rough grunts as he speeds up. He thrusting into you like he's taking revenge, like he's proving that he's the piece that's been missing from your life.

You shake your head, "Need b-both."

"Yeah, you do. Always so desperate to be filled by this cock." He holds you in place and begins to viciously thrust up into you.

"O-oh-!" He's hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You can't help the way your mouth gapes at the toe curling sensation.

Everything around you quickly fades away and all you can see, hear, and feel is him. You can't even articulate anything when pure ecstasy blooms in your core and permeates throughout your body.

You seize in his hold as he continues to roll his hips against yours, feeling boneless from the pleasure that hums through every nerve. He groans at the flutter of your walls around him, gripping him so tight in your warmth. He can barely get out a handful of thrusts before he's spilling inside of you.

You're a mess on top of him, soaking his lap in a mixture of the two of you. Your hair sticks to your face and neck, but it doesn't matter when you can still feel him pulsing inside of you.

Your eyes flutter open as a gentle hand caresses your jaw and guides you to lean in.

You meet vulnerable eyes framed by dark lashes.

He takes a breath, like he's bracing for the worst, but he doesn't have the chance to let it go before you're pressing your lips against his.

---

You sleep like a rock. It's almost like no time has passed. Why dream when you have everything you want right in front of you?

Or behind you, that is.

You can already tell it's Steven with the way he nuzzles himself against the back of your neck. "G'mornin', darling." He's adorable with his roughened groggy voice.

"Hi, baby." He curls up at the pet name and holds you closer, already flustered before he has fully woken up. You can tell it takes him a few moments to blink the sleep away because suddenly he's stiff against you (and not in a good way).

"W-what. What happened?"

You sigh, "Marc happened."

"Did he hurt you? Oh my god," He pushes away to get a better view, "was he mauling your neck?!"

"Steven, it's fine." You feel your face warm up at the thought of the night before. "I...kinda liked it."

Steven huffs to himself as his thumb lightly brushes over a particularly obvious bruise on your neck, "He's trying to steal my girlfriend."

You nearly choke on yourself, "G-girlfriend?"

"Yes...? I mean, you are, right? Unless," Steven's eyes widen, "I-uh, didn't mean to assume--"

"No, Steven. I-I'd love to be your girlfriend."

[autistic-shaiapouf]

if you take adhd meds, heres your solution;

step 1: purchase one of those $8 clocks from ikea with the bells that are obnoxiously loud and annoying

step 2: place the alarm clock, your meds, and a bottle of water on a table, somewhere that requires you to stand up and walk to the clock to turn it off

step 3: when you are inevitably awoken and angered by the alarm, and run to throw it out of a window, make sure to pop your morning medicine immediately

step 4: go back to bed

step 5: you will naturally and peacefully be awoken by your adhd medication kicking in, somewhere between 45 minutes to 1 hour and 15 minutes later

this will not only permit you to wake up consistently at the time you desire, this will wake you up whenever you want. i used to sleep until 1-3pm every day, now i’m doing exercises at 7am. the improvement this has brought to my life is dramatic and life-changing.

i have no clue if you are taking adhd meds, or even struggle with sleep the way i do, but this information is so vital to my life that i’d rather risk making an ass of myself on Anonymous than let someone struggle with what i used to struggle with.

salud!

First of all, I don't think you're being an ass at all! You saw an issue you had personal struggles with and offered help when you found something that worked well, and I at least appreciate the gesture.

Funnily enough, I'm not medicated for my adhd, and the meds I do take are for the evening, but I've seen the clock idea before and the personal testimony drives the point in. My only concern with something like that would be that I live with a few roommates, one of whom has a room next to mine, and idk if I'm prepared to have an alarm like that go off at 6am lmao; something similar is probably worth the investment though, considering how heavily I apparently sleep, which I'm attributing to my trazodone U_U

I think I just need to find something that has enough sound or inputs enough stimulus that it wakes me up consistently, and then potentially work on the distance factor; I don't have a lot of issues with getting out of bed, but since I started taking trazodone I've been sleeping directly through alarms that normally work; I don't wanna use sound but I think I may be down to it U_U if anything, this ask at least reminded me that I'm using a unconventional alarm by leaving my phone on vibrate instead of using actual noise, which is good to remember and lets me know what my next steps are 👍

I think this could also be pretty valuable to anyone who follows me who DOES have medicated adhd + struggles with sleep, so hopefully some other people will gain something from this as well!

[girlokwhatever]

⚘⋆.ೃ࿔✧*ੈ˚ ༘♡⋆❀ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part 2 ; discover me and reality

previous part - next part

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

the gravity of your situation didn’t sink in until the next morning. a few of your friends messaged you during the night, some of them including girls from the basketball team. apparently bianca had posted all about it on her finsta, dissing you and paige and claiming you were a ‘cheating slut.’

you also noted quite a few missed calls and texts from bianca. you couldn’t help but read them, noticing her text demeanor is much different than how she is online. she’s practically begging you to talk to her, pleading with you to answer the phone.

you didn’t really think it all through and as soon as you read all of those messages, it hit you like a fucking bus. were you and paige going to keep this up? or was it a dumb drunk decision she made and was now regretting it?

there was only one way to find out. you didn’t want to confront her about it though, embarrassment seeping through you along with last night’s memories. you couldn’t even believe yourself, asking your best friend to be your fake girlfriend. let alone a girl you knew you had been avoiding for two months.

you groan into your pillow, letting your poor decisions rack over your head. you couldn’t deny the way your pace quickened at the thought of paige being your girlfriend, even if it wasn’t real. everyone thought it was. you push the thought away, immediately feeling quilty for thinking of your best friend that way.

you lift your head when you feel a gentle knock on your half-opened bedroom door. you see paige, standing in all her glory. she has a sweat set on, long blonde hair down and wavy, adorning her shoulders. if your heart wasn’t skipping beats before, it certainly was now.

“paige! hi!” your speech is breathless and short, shocked to see her in your apartment. you hope she didn’t catch you in your little moment, unaware of how long she’s been here. you remember that you’re half-naked under the covers, making note to keep them up and above your chest. it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before probably, but it’s different now.

“hey, i didn’t mean to wake you up or anything. jus wanted to check on you.”

“oh um, i’m good. yeah, good.” you struggle to find your words between the way she takes your breath away and how nervous you are. get it together. “how are you?”

“oh y’know, i’m good. hey i wanted to ask you something, i don’t know if you’ll really remember but.. last night bianca said something about how you and me-” she’s cut off by the sound of your phone ringing, bianca’s name flashing across your screen. paige shamelessly looks, mood immediately dropping.

much like bianca never liked paige, paige never liked bianca. your best friend always felt as if you were too good for her and deserved better. she still believes that. she believes she can be your better.

your eyes linger a little longer than paige would’ve hoped, taking note of your conflicted and angered expression.

“hey, since i woke you up you should let me buy you some coffee. i can get you breakfast too.”

you ended up accepting her offer, the two of you spending a few hours together getting coffee and walking around in town. as soon as you got back to your apartment, paige’s phone started going crazy with calls from her teammates, kk in particular.

she answered, leaning against your kitchen counter and propping her phone up. it didn’t go unnoticed how she filled your space so naturally. you were really glad the new situation you found yourselves in didn’t make anything awkward between the two of you.

not yet at least.

“PAIGE- it’s real right? the news?”

“what news?”

“girl boo don’t play right now- you and princess!”

while you and paige were out, you came up with a few rules for your ‘relationship.’ one of those was that it was a sworn secret between only the two of you, no one else. it meant you’d both have to lie to your friends, even those closest to you, but you couldn’t risk a slip up. the thought of everyone finding out you plotted an entire fake relationship just to make your ex jealous horrified you— you couldn’t let her win.

“oh yeah, real stuff.” she angled her phone towards you as you packed away some minimal groceries. kk caught glimpse of you and screamed, cheering about how her ‘two favorite people are together!’

“ok so boom- you guys should come over to the team dorm tonight. we’re throwing you a couples welcoming party!”

“a what?!”

“paige girl just come. and bring your new cute girlfriend with you. we love you princess!”

“i love you kk!”

after the call ended you and paige decided to lounge around, watching a couple of movies and catching up on the latest trends. it made you happy to just have her around, finding yourself falling back into your close bond with her.

she was happy too, esthetic really. after two months of you distancing yourself and pushing her away, she was finally back to normal with you. as close to normal as you can get with your best-friend-turned-fake-girlfriend. she missed being in your apartment, rummaging through all your dvd movies she’s seen a million times already. she missed your soft blankets and the signature scent of your home that she couldn’t find anywhere else. it was everything that made you, you.

eventually the two of you had to get ready. your process was a bit longer than hers, but she still got up when you did. you tossed her a slightly nicer, more presentable outfit she left at your place after a group sleepover once. you disappeared after that, starting your own routine.

“i’m bored,” she walks into your bathroom, leaning against the counter as she watches you. you sneak a glance at her, noticing her expression.

“you can leave before me, s’not a big deal.”

“i think it’d be weird if we didn’t show up together for our inauguration party.”

“oh, right. you’re right.”

she goes silent again, watching as you put the finishing touches on your makeup and adjust your clothes. she shamelessly admires you while you’re not paying attention, entranced by the way you look. even by the way your chest rises with each breath.

“are we going to talk about it?”

“i thought we went over everything this morning?”

“no not that. i’m talking about what bianca said last night. about you and me sneaking around.” you pause, staring your own reflection in the eye. you can’t make eye contact with her out of fear you’ll give yourself away so you just pretend to touch up a spot on your chin.

“it’s nothing really. she was just paranoid. she said that about all my friends,” it wasn’t a complete lie, bianca had suspicions of each of your friends. paige though, she garnered the majority of bianca’s accusations. you couldn’t tell her she’s the reason you and bianca broke up. paige feels her heart sink a bit and she knows it’s wrong. it’s wrong to want bianca be jealous and insecure of the relationship you have with paige, at least while you two were together. but you’re not together anymore. you’re with paige now. in a sense.

“oh, alright. makes sense i guess.”

as soon as paige pushes you through the door of her dorm, party confetti and party horns are in your face. it’s loud, everyone either blowing some whistle or simply cheering. you didn’t think your new public status with paige would excite them so much.

“happy one day anniversary yall!! that we know of..” kk flashes both of you dirty looks, her way of scolding you for not telling everyone sooner. they’re oblivious to the fact that it would’ve been impossible to let this know, considering it was completely new for you and paige as well.

balloons adorn the walls and ceiling, a small cake rests on the counter, neon lights everywhere, they really went all out. there’s even a banner with your and paige’s ship name on it.

“guys..”

“our fav couple deserves nothing but the best,” azzi smiles and pats your shoulder, pulling you with her as everyone floods the kitchen. she serves you your favorite at home drink, liquid swishing as you take a swig. you were gonna need it.

“i don’t know who asked who, but one of yall just won me fifty bucks,” nika grins, showing her venmo to everyone. kk rolls her eyes, clueing that she was probably the one on the other end of that bet.

“you guys made a bet on when we’d get together?” you ask, completely unaware of why this was even a thing.

“months ago.”

paige is frozen, face red as she stands statue still. every once in awhile she’d drop a hint at her admiration for you and she really hopes no one says anything, all completely unaware you don’t actually know paige has real feelings for you. she was stressed, positive she was going to break out in a sweat.

“ok enough of that. let’s eat some cake!” she tries to avert the conversation, giving kk a warning glare and nudging nika with her elbow. she couldn’t have anything going wrong tonight. or ever, really.

amari cuts the cake, serving everyone an equal slice. everyone found a spot in the living room, you cozying up next to paige on the couch. you were sitting between her legs, back to her chest as everyone gathered.

“so how’d it happen?”

“probably during sex or something-”

“no kk, bad.” ice scolds, watching kk give her best puppy dog eyes. you couldn’t believe how over the moon everyone was about it, never having heard any romantic innuendoes connecting you to paige.

“we were just hanging out, like usual. it kinda just happened.”

“how long ago?”

“uh, a few weeks ago.”

you’re glad paige decided to take the lead on answering the questions. they came up with them like rapid fire, some of them completely random. most of those came from kk and ice though.

“well, we’re glad it finally happened. we were beginning to think paige would never do it.”

that shocks you and stills paige, both of your breaths hitching, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions about what caroline was saying but it was hard not to, it was an outright insinuation of paige having romantic feelings for you. she knew it too, not sure on how she was going to get herself out of it. nika notices paige’s expression, narrowing her eyes in her direction.

“well, it’s a shame what bianca is saying about you online. you didn’t actually cheat on her right?”

“of course she didn’t. bianca’s just a bitch.” paige’s tone is filled with malice, mood swinging at the mention of your ex. you didn’t expect such a vulgar response from her, eyebrows furrowing in mixed emotions.

“paige-”

“bianca’s an insecure person that deserves to rot alone.”

you immediately nudge her, silencing her unfiltered thoughts. you didn’t know why she was acting like this, having very seldom seen this side of her.

everyone becomes distracted quickly, giving you the opportunity to address her hostility.

“okay, chill. what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing. jus defending you. is that a problem?”

“defending me from what, paige? the ghost of christmas past?”

at that she’s silent, fully aware that you’re right. bianca isn’t here and yet she’s still saying all these things. part of paige, the irrational part, gets upset at the way you still defend bianca. the more rational side empathizes with you, understanding that you’re probably still healing.

“yeah, alright. fine. my bad.”

you figure that’s the best apology you’ll get from her so you take it. phasing back to reality around you, you notice everyone has dispersed into groups, each one louder than the next. you and paige mingle, sticking together. eventually after an hour you find yourselves alone, paige creating an invisible protective barrier around you. her aura surrounds you and you swear you can almost feel it.

“enjoying the party?” the gives you flashbacks to last night when she asked nearly the same question, when things were simple.

“it’s good. never thought i’d go to a party celebrating something i made up though. i feel bad, lying to all of them.”

“they’ll be okay.”

it’s in this moment you realize eventually this will have to end. the reality of paige’s breath fanning your face, her pulse against your own, eyes locked with yours, makes you want to sink in on yourself. this can’t last forever, eventually it’ll end. you’ll ‘break up’ and possibly lose your close friendship with all the women in the room, all the women you’ve grown to love like family.

the thought itself makes you want to pull away, you can hardly stand to look paige in the eye. you already feel the barrier she’s built around you breaking, shattering to the ground in a million pieces. you want to run and never look back, never check to see if she’s following. but you don’t, you can’t. your heart sinks, stomach dropping and you feel sick.

you realize, truthfully and honestly, that you made the wrong decision.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

UMMMM PLOT PROGRSS IDK??!!!!!

i love you guys

make good decisions!!! (cough cough celeste)

[the-froschamethyst4]

I Will Always Protect You

𖤐Pairing: Step dad! Gaz x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, angst, deadbeat ex-husband, language, married couple, children, arguing, fighting,

𖤐Summary: Your ex-husband tries to 'come back' into your kids lives but your children show that they don't want to go with him, so what happens when their step father Gaz steps in to put this deadbeat in his place

————

————

8:00AM

Y/n's day started out like everyday, waking her children up for school, Skye was getting her school clothes on and Kai was coming downstairs to come eat breakfast.

Gaz was coming downstairs as well, sitting next to Kai as he ate breakfast.

"Skye! Baby, come on!" Y/n calls from the kitchen and she could hear her daughter running downstairs.

"Sorry, mama," she says, sitting next to Gaz.

Gaz has joined the family when Skye was 2 and Kai was 5, a young age for the both of them. Gaz loved Kai and Skye, and the kids treated him more like their father than their actual father.

Their actual father was a fucking deadbeat. He started dealing drugs when Skye was only a baby and Y/n didn't know till a strange man came to her door asking for him and wanting 56k from her deadbeat husband.

Scared the shit out of her, as it should. So, she filed for divorce and he's been bumming off his 19-year-old girlfriend and her parents at the ripe age of 35.

"Come on, let's go catch the bus," Y/n says as the kids got off their chairs and Gaz grabs his coffee following his wife and the two kids to the bus stop.

"Mama, can we go to the store later?"

"Why, baby?" She asked her daughter.

"Because I'm out of mouthwash-"

"OH SAME HERE!" Kai interrupts Skye.

"We'll see okay," she kisses her kids foreheads and sent them off to school.

---------

1:40PM

It was around noon now. Y/n usually stayed home on these days to do some chores around the house and also catch up on some work from home.

As Y/n was cleaning the dishes from this morning, there was a loud knock on the door, it rattled the front door and she could hear the glass door in front of it also rattling.

She wipes her hands and looks out through the tall window next to the front door, she sees a man in a hood.

"Fuck no," she says to herself before backing from the door and going to the kitchen to grab a knife just in case. She hides it behind her back and goes back to the front.

She opens the heavy door first and looks through the glass window, seeing this person lift his head and showing a bruised face, a cut lip, and some teeth missing.

"Mark!? What the fuck are you doing here?" Y/n asked, behind the glass door as her barrier to keep this deadbeat away from her.

"Y/n, I am so, so, so fucking sorry for what I have done to you. I am truly sorry-"

"Why the fuck are you here Mark? I will call the police if you don't leave my property," Y/n threatens. She wishes Gaz was here, Mark was terrified of Gaz.

"Please, listen to me first...I just wanna see my kids, and I want to see how, my girl is doing."

"I am NOT your girl, definitely not anymore, you don't have the right to see your kids anymore, you lost custody and you only get supervised visits by the local police, you are not welcome to or in my house now get off my property, Mark," Y/n shuts the door and slides down the door hot tears filling her eyes.

Y/n and Mark were a very happy couple, but when she gave birth to Skye, the drug dealing happened, along with cheating and drinking.

---------

2:20PM

"I'm home!" Gaz yells. Y/n comes out of her home office and looks at Gaz.

"Hi, honey, how was work?"

"Same-old-same-old," Gaz says with a soft smile on his face before pulling Y/n into a hug and kissing her lips.

"MAMA!" Y/n and Gaz turned hearing Kai's voice, it was cracked like he was crying. Soon Skye came in and hid behind Y/n and Gaz as Y/n bent down to her children's level as Gaz looked at the front door.

"My babies, what is wrong?"

"I can give you a guess," Gaz says as Mark stood in the doorway.

"I'm calling the fucking police," Y/n says. "I told you if you didn't leave."

"I just want to see my children, Y/n. Why are you holding them from me!?" Mark pleads.

"Because they don't want to see you!" Gaz steps in, blocking his step children's view of Mark.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Kyle!"

"WHAT!?" Gaz marches to Mark.

Y/n moves her children out of the living room to the stairs. "Go upstairs, okay. I'll come and get you when it's over."

Her children run upstairs to not want to see or be involve what might happen. Gaz takes Mark to the ground, Gaz on top of him and he was just cussing and yelling at him, not swinging any punches at Mark or anything.

Gaz was holding back a lot of his strength of wanting to put Mark in the hospital-no that's too generous, not wanting to put Mark 6 feet under right now.

"DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING COME AROUND MY FAMILY AGAIN! MY KIDS DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU! YOU ARE A FUCKING DEADBEAT, SAD, SORRY EXCUSE OF A FATHER, HUSBAND AND A MAN! YOU ARE A FUCKING COWARD AS WELL!!" Gaz gets off Mark and grabs him again basically tossing Marks dirty ass out the door.

"Gaz?" Y/n watches him slam the door shut. Y/n walks towards Gaz placing her hand on his arm as he was trying his best to calm down and not lash out even more.

"Mama? Gaz?" Kai and Skye peak around the corner seeing their mother and step father.

"Is he gone?" Skye asked.

"Yes, baby," Y/n scoops Skye into her arms and ruffled Kai's hair. Kai looks at Gaz and runs up to him, Gaz bends down picking Kai up and hugging him.

"Thank you, Gaz," Kai says into Gaz's neck. Gaz felt his heart swell and wanting to burst in his chest.

"Of course, kiddo...I will always protect you kids," he says, kissing Kai's temple.

----------

9:10PM

It was getting pretty close to the kids' bedtime. Skye was brushing her teeth as Gaz was telling Kai some stories about his time being in the Military.

Skye walks into her older brothers' bedroom and sat next to Gaz wanting to hear his stories as well. Both children soon fell asleep, Gaz gently picks up Skye and takes her to her bedroom.

Pulling back her covers and gently placing her down, Gaz was about to turn off her little lamp on her nightstand, but she stirs in her sleep making Gaz stop.

"I love you...daddy..." Skye says. Gaz's heart shatters now.

Skye and Kai have never called Gaz daddy, dad, father, or anything other names just Gaz or Kyle. It first started out as them just saying Kyle and when they got use to him then Gaz. It felt like an honor being called 'daddy' now.

"Are they asleep?" Y/n asks.

"Yep..." Y/n could see the biggest smile on Gaz's face.

"What? What's that face?" Y/n asked, getting close to Gaz to examine his face.

"Skye called me daddy, along with an I love you as well."

Y/n was happy for him. "I'm glad they're warming up to you, Gaz," she kisses him before they both headed to bed.

[capslocked]

UNRAVEL

male reader x kim jisoo

6k words

It’s all a mess honestly. You need her. She needs you. Just none of it in the same way.

-

It’s late as you arrive through the front door of your apartment. Just into the kind of hours that saw the lion’s share of your reckless decisions. So, it’s not unreasonable that you’d find her here now—sunk into the cushions of your sofa, finger against her temple, eyes halfway attending some novel she pulled off your bookcase—she more than knows what she’s doing.

Keys, wallet, phone all clamor and rattle as you set them down on the narrow table inside your foyer.

"I must’ve missed when we decided you could just let yourself in."

"Well if we’re splitting hairs," Jisoo says, waiting for the sound of a page to flip between her fingers, "You’re the one who gave me a spare key."

"If we’re splitting hairs Jisoo—it was for emergencies."

"And?"

"And." You shove your hands into your pockets.

She closes the book gently, no effort spent to bookmark or dog-ear a corner, and rests it on her thigh. "What if you’d gone missing? Drank yourself to death or got pushed in front of a bus. That’d be an emergency now wouldn’t it."

"So, just a hypothetical one then. Got it."

A humorless laugh and she smiles, the unmistakable glow in her eyes reeling you into her. "Don’t act too happy to see me."

You unsling your bag from your shoulder. "I don’t suppose you could’ve called?"

"Funny." Jisoo tilts her chin up at you. "I was about to say the same thing."

The step you take up into the living room as Jisoo rises from her seat is an apprehensive one. The lights are dimmed just barely bright enough to read by. And try as you may, Jisoo’s silhouette is the only thing your tired eyes can find a place to rest in. Maybe it’s how the moonlight catches her pale skin or the way she gets gently washed in those soft blues and greens of the city’s nighttime neon that pour diffuse through your windows. It’s almost necessary to remind yourself that it’s your apartment the two of you are standing in. Always there’s this precise, polished look about her—she owns every room she steps into.

Jisoo tucks a stubborn strand of midnight hair behind her ear before tapping a finger on the book she’d placed down on the coffee table. "It’s a good read by the way."

You glance at its cover and a derisive laugh blows out your nose. "So what was all that then—about not reading anything that isn’t at least a hundred years old—time tested you called it."

Jisoo hides a quiet smile as she lets her eyes wander a moment to her feet. "It’s close enough to a hundred isn’t it? Besides, it’s Gatsby, I can make an exception."

"Speaks to you, huh?"

"There’s just something so magical about the way he chases Daisy, ya know? That’s the kind of love I want. Waking up every morning knowing someone out there needs you."

"I’m willing to bet most readers end up sympathizing with Jay—all with the anguish of pursuing a woman who’s completely unobtainable?" You toss your work bag over the back of the sofa. "Just the kind of thing I’d hope mostly to avoid."

When Jisoo squares her shoulders to yours, you find yourself swallowing at an impossible thirst in your throat. Brains, beauty, wit. It’s probably the hundredth time she’s run through your thoughts today, and you can’t still figure out anything you don’t like about her, at least not on paper. So, you continue on, unfortunately thinking so very often about her—the way she smiles when you hold her, the way her eyes soften when her face is inches from yours, the way she runs her fingers through your hair—perfect. That’s how you’d describe her; if perfect could ever hope to be a pejorative.

"I think you worry too much." Her svelte figure finds itself easily in the space in front of yours and she wraps her fingers around the bottom of your necktie. She’s not even touching you and it’s making it hard to breathe. "Wouldn’t you say?"

Were you to flip through a calendar and search for the day you’d first undressed her in your apartment, you’d have to start by grabbing one more and then rifle back about eighteen months or so to put your finger on it. Only now should you have instead cut from those pages the time you’d actually spent together—most of it between the sheets mind you—you doubt it would manage to stitch together more than a few weeks. That was the nature of your relationship.

It’s not like we’re dating ya know.

Jisoo was always rather firm on this point.

And god, had you grown weary of hearing it. Usually a non-sequitur in its arrival, it would bounce and rattle around your thoughts for days, the warm voice behind it painfully clear and articulate. All because you’d made the mistake of bringing it up one time.

It really ought to be the kind of thing that closed more doors than it opened, answered more questions than it raised. The sentence probably deserved a period. Granted, there wasn’t yet an empty wine bottle in the sink nor were your clothes scattered about in different states of undress around the room, but you recognize the feeling—hanging on the end of a comma.

"I told you. I’m not going to do this anymore." You begin to twist your arms out from the sleeves of your coat. "I felt like I was pretty clear about it."

You were.

"What—in the hotel?" Jisoo sneaks behind you and helps coax the jacket off your shoulders, laughing to herself. "That conversation? The one you and I had just fifteen minutes before you pinned me against the wall, pulled my skirt up and—"

"Jisoo."

"Yeah. How presumptuous of me to assume you’d changed your mind," she adds, stressing a rasp in that ever-so-husked voice of hers. She ignores your protest, mostly because you let her; you always let her; she knows you always let her.

Quickly, her body against yours becomes a question, the racing of your heart its familiar answer.

"Jisoo," you repeat, finding it difficult to search for an authoritative voice all at the hand reaching under your chin, the heat of a short breath against your jaw, those parted lips dragging against your cheek. Dig your heels in. "I’m serious."

"Come to think of it—isn’t it a little late?" she asks, kissing you again just beyond the corner of your mouth. Her voice is cool, gentle breaths warm on your skin. "To just now be coming in the door? To be honest, I was starting to think you weren’t going to show at all."

"Well don’t act surprised." You gently pull her hand by the wrist away from your chest. "This is where I sleep."

Jisoo fixes on you, those sweeping eyelashes keeping a pair of narrowed eyes entirely unreadable. "But that’s not always true now is it? In fact, tonight you were counting on sleeping somewhere else, no?"

"How do you figure all that?"

"Because your clothes smell like tobacco and cheap beer." She raises an eyebrow and begins teasing the fabric of your shirt up from out of your pants. "Do you at least have a good excuse? Something creative maybe?"

"You really want a creative one?"

Her eyes become soft for a moment before narrowing again and her lips part into an all-too-alluring shape. "No, not particularly."

"Fine then. Work," you answer. "The team wanted to do a happy hour. Or maybe a few."

"At an izakaya?" Her face tilts until it finds a look of skepticism that matches the inquisitive tone in her voice.

"Something like that."

"Are you drunk?"

"Well I can’t say I’m sober."

"And Rosie," she says, blinking slowly, "you two met there or some place later?"

Chin up, you twist a confused eyebrow over the top of a dry laugh. "Now what might give you that impression?"

A smirk pulls up on the corner of Jisoo’s lip, and in one quick motion she pinches between her fingers at a long strand of golden blonde hair from just beneath your collar. "You’re still wearing her on your shirt, handsome."

A deep breath marks your response as you bite softly into the inside of your cheek.

"Thought so. Now, I’m not so brash as to ask for details, but considering you’re here, and she isn’t… I can’t imagine she invited you up for coffee after you kissed her outside her—"

"Has anyone ever told you you’re a little tightly wound?"

Jisoo takes a moment, slightly disarmed. "Once or twice."

"I’ve gotta ask—is this something you do just to get into bed with me?"

"Not at all." She smiles. Always it manages to distract from the way she inches ever closer to you. "Getting into bed with you is a completely separate affair."

Of course there’s some sort of game here. And one day you’ll learn how to win at it, or at least the rules, or even just how it’s scored (in spite of the fact Jisoo seems keen on changing all of it constantly). Too quickly however, before whatever prudent thoughts might rebuke them, it’s your hands that give you away. The thin fabric of her blouse beneath your fingers, you map the familiar shapes and curves where Jisoo’s waist meets her hips.

You shake your head across a series of breathy laughs. "And just what does that look like Jisoo?"

She leans into you, her palms sliding slowly up your chest. "From the top? Because right now, I’d guess we’re just getting into the real thick of it."

She stands close to you, her body now breaking all sorts of boundaries. The flavor of her perfume hits your nose and she’s resting a thigh against yours. Those parted lips hover just in front of your face—pink, narrow and wildly irresistible. Reach forward and you can simply take them.

You swallow again and your eyes shift away from hers before they might grab hold of you like quicksand. "You think I don’t know how it starts?"

"Oh?" She starts again at the skin on your neck, each kiss lingering longer and melting into your skin until finally she holds herself just over your lips. The breaths of her sultry voice crash onto your face, "Go on then, let’s hear it."

You straighten yourself out, earning you the fleeting remains of your personal space. "I mean it’s all more or less the same right? You sit down, we chat, nonsense mostly. I ask you how your trip was, you tell me about Paris, Milan, New York City or another."—always she was coming and going and coming and going—"I offer you something to drink, you ask if I have any wine, I bring out that bubbly stuff I keep buying even though you’re the only one who cares to drink it—"

"Ha. You know I had my suspicions." The soft, round tip of Jisoo’s nose drags across your cheek as she reaches up in her heels and finds her lips onto the bottom of your ear. In seconds, her voice fills your head completely. "And then what?"

Of course, your precocious hands can’t stop reaching further behind Jisoo—into the narrow ridge that runs up the center of her back, to the curve of her ass, the bottoms of her shorts inviting you to venture beneath them. You clear your throat before giving her the response she wants, "The cork comes off, clothes not too long after and tongues are in mouths I suppose."

Jisoo hangs off your shoulders with a hand slowly twisting up the length of your tie. A sculpted eyebrow dips and her expression nearly pouts. "Just mouths?"

"Well—"

"Maybe you ought to remind me—all those things your tongue can do."

It’s the same every time. Eighteen months of limbo, of seeing, not seeing, seeing, not seeing this girl who moved far faster than you could ever hope to keep up with. You’d promised yourself to have an ounce of resolve—something, anything, that even looked like resolve would do. Now of course, Jisoo was never going to outright put her lips to yours and kiss you. No, that’s something she leaves for you. Because she knows. When you’re in her hands like this? Inevitable.

If it had started slow, you missed it entirely.

The swell of her lower lip twitches, and you crash hard into her. The way her lips curve and arch—unbelievable, the pretty things—they remind you just how right it feels to take them in your own. The long lashes across her eyes tickle and tease you until you’re both staring into the stars behind your eyelids and struggling to breath steady. It’s entirely reckless, and absolutely dangerous, but somewhere in this tumultuous endeavor, you can only ever know the calming touch of her cool, wet lips against yours calling you home.

She’s small, her narrowed shoulders between your arms easy to hold yourself around. The staggered breaths moving haphazard through her chest push against you as she melts into your embrace.

You hold her tight, just underneath where her shoulder blades rise from the middle of her back, pressing further and pulling her into you until she gasps into your kiss. Before you realize it, you’ve got her bent back at the knees, holding on tightly to you with those dainty arms wrapped around your neck as you chase deeper into her lips.

When you’d heard she was in town, again, from a fashion show or a film festival (honestly it’s become impossible to remember), this was the exact scene you’d intended to avoid. Of all the girls you’ve never dated, Jisoo was intent on somehow being the most impossible to break up with.

"Mmnph…" Jisoo swallows down a choked breath and takes a beat to gather herself as a small distance comes to exist between your lips. You open your eyes and she’s staring right back into yours, these deep shimmering pools of dusty browns and grays. Her cheeks glow a faint pink. She bats her eyelashes. The corners of her eyes crease and she’s got this smile, it's always that smile, the rare kind you doubt you’ve stumbled upon more than a handful of times in your life. Effortless and delicate, it wraps you up into her. Even though its radiant and beaming for all to see, you swear when she’s here—like this—it only focuses on you with this ever-tempting prejudice in your favor.

She wets her lips and lets a sultry voice interrupt the moment, "Well, what are you going to do now?"

It’s been a long day. Your heart is tender, tired, sore. Fuck, It’s been a long eighteen months. Tugging at the shirt bunching in your fingertips, you answer her, simply taking her lips again.

She gasps when you push her into the wall and again when you place your knee between her thighs. There’s five buttons down the front of her blouse, two more at the waist of her shorts. Your hand feels slowly down the shape of her slim figure, and they all come undone while Jisoo’s tongue begins to slip gently between your lips.

She shifts her weight between her legs. And as if you’d cut some invisible thread holding the entire delicate assemblage together, those garments make their way to the floor. It’s instinctual the way your hands wrap around Jisoo, finding the perfect shape of her ass. Your fingers squeeze into soft skin and a hushed, accidental moan spills from her throat into yours.

A barely-there trail of spit between your mouths grows until it vanishes into the dark as you pull your face away from Jisoo—her eyes open slowly and rest weary in yours. She’s so beautiful it often takes the words right off your lips. You’d grown to know it impossible to ask promises or demands of her, but the way she holds you right now, her hands on your chest and back, her eyes soft and welcoming, it always manages to keep the embers of a fire—that cruel thing of hope—stoked and burning gently inside you.

She grabs gently at your wrist, guiding you sternly to where she really needs you—between her legs. Your fingertips brush the skin beneath her waist, atop her underwear and she places her words in your ear, "now come, feel me."

The loose fitting lace of her panties bunches in your palm the further you venture to reach into that smoldering warmth between her thighs. She grasps tight at your shoulders, lifts her chin and shudders as your finger drags across the pair of lips hidden beneath it all.

Again her voice rests atop a whisper, some silent curse or another.

Bathed in the soft light of the moon, Jisoo has this almost ethereal beauty about her. When she moves—and nearly imperceptible when she does—the dance of light and shadows scatters into these mesmerizing shapes across the pale skin of her body. The cast of those shadows, dark and unrelenting like India ink, tease her image through your head where your thoughts scramble to capture it however incomplete and grainy.

Sneaking under the loose elastic around her waist, knuckles tenting the hopeless fabric, you finally feel her. A wetness pools at her entrance. And just beyond it, the unmistakable heat that radiates from inside her. With a delicate touch, the rough pads of your fingers dip and play. Jisoo bites her lip at that chord you strike against her aching mound and a sharply sucked chestful of air tugs at the muscles in her stomach, scattering again those shadows the night had lain across it.

She swallows and closes her eyes. Lilting into that deepened register of her voice, Jisoo continues to reel you into her. "There you go. I love the way you touch me."

The strap of a black lace bra rolls between her fingertips and slides off her shoulder. She leans forward, pinching a kiss onto your neck as the garment begins to reveal more and more of that porcelain skin beneath her collarbones. The swelling roundness of her breast fills your hand and a stiff nipple finds its way amidst the grip of your thumb and finger.

Jisoo’s kisses again land in your ear. "C’mon. Don’t play."

It’s all a mess honestly. You need her. She needs you. Just none of it in the same way. So repeatedly, drawn inextricably and spiraling toward some spectacular cosmic catastrophe, the two of you find one another.

Seldom do you have even a moment to consider it—especially given all the ways Jisoo needs you. Sometimes she demands just the first two knuckles of a finger, sometimes your lips, the broad stroke of your tongue, occasionally it becomes the paradoxical freedom she finds in your hand around her throat. Even knowing few bounds, it’s impressive how simply she takes it all off you. Her fingers set tight into muscle behind your shoulder, and she moves, hips beginning to shuffle and rock against the forever reliable shape of your hand.

Her lips part and a moan punched through them sticks a humid breath against your face. "Ohhh my god—yes."

She knows it’s selfish, but she doesn’t care. Those words off her lips hit your ears and your heart drums at a dull beat from deep within your chest.

A yelp, and a sudden draw of cold air past her teeth, you find Jisoo quickly filling with want and need in your hands. Her nipple between your fingers becomes a second target of torment and her muscles jump as you find the aching bud atop her lips with a heavy touch of your thumb.

"This bad, huh?" you ask, feeling Jisoo’s body twist and unsettle in your grip. "Rough week?"

Jisoo’s lips break their kiss onto your neck, sighing. "No worse than usual."

"Yeah?" Your fingers dip again into that wet pool collecting into a sticky mess at her entrance. "Jisoo, you’re fucking soaked."

"Then maybe you ought to get down there and take care of it."

Just past where her aching folds surround her clit, you slip a finger into that tight warmth. Jisoo stifles a moan and you lift your chin, looking down your nose at the sight in front of you. "And how might I be able to do that?"

Struggling against your fingers, she answers, "If you’re—asking me to say it—you’re barking up the wrong—"

"Jisoo." Your shoulders drop and your head tilts into that angle—the one that pleads for a reasonable response—not that it ever has the efficacy it needs, no matter how meticulously practiced the look now is. "For christ’s sake, enough with that. You and I both know that you aren’t—"

"Your little slut?"

"Well—I was going to say a princess—but good on you to prove my point."

"You know it’s always my favorite part right?" Jisoo’s eyes narrow and a dangerous smile fills across her cheeks. "Watching you—pretend and toil like you don’t want to fuck me."

You can’t help but laugh, something about the way it cools your nerves. "Oh trust me—I know I shouldn’t—but I stopped pretending a long time ago."

"Well then, I suppose—if we’re not going to beat around the bush." Her voice in your ear becomes a command. "You can get on your knees. And give me your tongue."

Your hand out from between her legs, dragging a sheen of her wetness across her waist, you push her hip fast against the wall. A disgruntled whine leaves Jisoo’s lips, but the kiss you place on her neck is quick to pacify the complaint.

Slow, meticulous, every inch a purposeful destination, you dive. A trail from her neck to her collarbone, her soft skin meets your lips. The taste of it all—beyond her sweat, her scent—it quickly fills your thoughts, abstract but every bit as familiar. Your mouth latches around the tight bud atop her breast. The way your tongue and your teeth around it make her squirm sets a reminder in your head to visit the tender flesh again.

Now hovering beside her thighs, you chuckle at Jisoo’s hips beginning to search for you while you pull her underwear down the smooth curves of her legs. Your tongue clicks and you begin to chide her, "Jisoo—so needy—"

"Don’t start." She threads her fingers through your hair and pulls you into her. The breath you draw through your chest is moist, filled with the sweet smell of her excitement. Your nose brushes against her clit, your fingers tease the shallow depths of her entrance, and your tongue meets her lips, wanting.

She shudders. And her voice dips out of its usual composed timbre, meeting a contented sigh that shakes and moves her whole body. "Ohhhh."

The lips around her heat fold and twist under each slow, methodical, swirling pass of your tongue. Her hands pull you into her and your mouth forms kisses that suck and massage at her mound, finding again the familiarity of her reactions—a quick breath, a soft mewl, sometimes when you really find where she needs you, she curses.

When you look up, Jisoo’s eyes stare back at you with a heavy longing, her chin tucked and a hand holding the dark, wavy hair out of her face. The pleasure you brew between her legs has begun now to agitate these erratic waves of movement in the surface of her stomach, all as her muscles jump and her chest draws heavy gasps of air.

"That feels so good—"

You reach behind her, and a handful of Jisoo’s perfect ass helps guide her hips into your efforts while the other explores the wet mess you’ve created between her thighs. Her slick walls tighten around the length of your finger and Jisoo parts her lips, letting a muted whine spill loose from her chest as the shape of a second finger finds its way inside her.

Releasing your seal around her wet folds with a smack, you narrow your tongue, its firm tip quick to become a reliable partner for her aching clit—quick to become exactly the toy Jisoo needs.

Shuffling about, she turns her bra around on her chest and unclasps the stubborn thing before sending it careening to the floor. Completely naked for you now, the grind of her body against your mouth becomes more urgent, more selfish, seeking her own release on the shape of your tongue. Her lip caught between her teeth, she whispers, barely audible to you now in between her thighs, "right there—fuck your tongue."

Her knees begin to weaken and buckle. Locked in conflict, Jisoo’s building pleasure struggles against her desire to stand, holding her right where she needs to be, where your tongue can continue to deliver the swirling, tapping, teasing touches that race to bring her to the brink. When your fingers find the throbbing skin behind her clit, putting the poor swollen bud between a rock and a hard place, Jisoo begins to pant in fits and starts. The only thing clenching harder than her teeth are the muscles beginning to tense and lock around you.

You can feel your chin become slick, Jisoo’s wetness practically dripping onto your shirt, and those whispers become stuck in an endless loop, "keep going, keep going."

Ever since you’d known each other, and probably long before that, Jisoo’s very fabric had been stiffly woven into this spitting image of perfection—always concerned about the way people saw her, how people talked about her when she wasn’t listening, whether or not she might say something with even a hint of the wrong inflection. It has to be utterly exhausting. And you knew possibly better than her: where to find those loose threads that had been tucked and hidden away. A tap or a tease here, a pull and a twist there, and you see to it that Jisoo unravels.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god!—Fuuuuuck."

Sharp fingernails dig into the back of your head, pressing you tight against her wet, aching mound. Her legs lock, muscles tighten, and in a moment of brief triumph, you look at her—taking in the sight of Jisoo coming undone.

Holding onto a silent moan, her expression twists, all scrunching and wrapping around the knuckle she keeps tight between her teeth. Nearly folding herself in half, she holds most of her weight against you as she reels in pleasure. You study each quiver and shake that seizes her body as the walls come down around her.

It’s somewhat of a mangled heap you two finally connect into onto the hardwood floor of your apartment. You’re the first to rise considering that your recovery was just about complete when you’d wiped the excessively wet surface of your mouth and chin with the back of your sleeve.

"God." Her lungs still gasping for air, she catches your stare with a pair of half-lidded eyes. "You’re fucking dangerous."

You suppose that makes two of you.

Beads of sweat form where her dark, silky hair wisps into soft strands at her temples. Her legs continue to carry on a slight wobble, walking across the carpet in your living room. And through it all, her unwavering commitment to seducing your every thought remains entirely steadfast—each step offering you a clear picture of her elegant figure, completely nude for you eyes to enjoy.

She places the palms of her hands on the room’s single window, a tall simple piece of glass that stretches from the floor to the ceiling, and she creates this irresistible curve from where her neck meets her shoulders to where her waist flares into the perfect roundness of her hips.

Jisoo pulls her face over her shoulder, her eyes peeking over it and she tells you everything you need to hear, "Get those clothes off—and come fuck me."

She doesn’t have to ask twice.

Tie, shirt, shoes, belt, pants, underwear all make this hapless trail throughout the room as you follow in the sound of Jisoo’s voice. You’re like a moth fluttering its wings in anxious proximity to a flame, the way she just makes your body move without thinking.

"Tell me," she says.

You position yourself behind her, fingers gingerly pumping your own cock as if it could even get any harder.

"Tell me—just how far do you think you’d have gotten with Rosé?"

"What’s with that?" You lick your palm and dip it between Jisoo’s thighs, but you should’ve known without needing any confirmation—she’s as slick as can be. "What’s it to you?"

Jisoo laughs quietly, "I mean the girl’s a grade A prude—"

A gasp interrupts Jisoo as you press your cock against the lips of her pussy, presented neatly in between her creamy thighs in front of you. You watch as she grips onto you inch by inch and all but pulls you into her inviting heat.

"So?" you ask.

The girl in your hands finds herself looking again over her shoulder, her eyes begging you to fuck her. "So—I’m sure you're a hell of a lot happier now that you’re about to have me."

"If I remember correctly—" And you’re more than sure you do. You start pushing your cock past the hot, tight seal of her lower lips. You find her wet and ready and wanting you, but still she needs to adjust to something bigger than just the narrow width of your fingers. "Weren’t you more of the same?"

You press your thighs against hers and Jisoo moans, the airy sound becoming her only response. Her shoulders rise and fall as she settles into the shape of you. All the same it manages to yank a groan out of your chest, only it fills you with this yearning for more of the warmth and tightness that now surrounds you.

"Am I wrong here?" You ask, bending forward against the arch of Jisoo’s back. You mock the aloof sound of her voice, "Miss I-don’t-usually-do-this."

Your hands grip onto Jisoo’s waist as you drag yourself back and press forward into her again, and you watch her body move, a ripple traveling through her thighs to her hips.

"Tha-That doesn’t sound like me."

Teeth starting to clench and grind, you whisper under your breath at the ridiculousness of it all, "you’re right—it certainly doesn’t."

It’s a delicate motion made across the velvety skin of her sopping pussy, but you come to bury your shaft in that slick heat of her cunt again. The way Jisoo feels—so impossibly tight and hot around your cock—you swear as though she were designed specifically with you in mind. Like a fucking glove. Bent at the waist, the angle lets you bury yourself deep, and at the end of each thrust, you have to make an effort not to simply lose yourself right then and there.

Slowly, you work up to a tempo that makes it difficult to carry much of any meaningful conversation at all. And all too quickly the angle you find against her hips sends Jisoo into a satisfying fit of panting breaths. You watch each one as it draws through her chest and lands hot against the glass, quickly becoming fogged and littered with hand prints.

Each collision between your hips fills your apartment with its fleshy sound, her taut wet skin against yours making for a particularly satisfying clap.

"So - fucking - good," Jisoo manages through her gritted teeth. 

You soak up the perfect hourglass shape in front of you, holding tight at its stem. The city lights on the other side of the window manage to paint Jisoo in this fantastic myriad of colors. Blues, greens, reds, all these unnatural tones against the pale skin of her face, her back, her ass—she looks as if someone had decided to paint her and let their imagination run wild.

You can’t help but wonder what it looks like from the other side. Your room is only a few floors above street level, and anyone looking up would undoubtedly see Jisoo struggling to maintain her ridiculous posture, the beautiful features of her face fast becoming wracked with pleasure—not that either you or her seemed to care.

"Fuck, Jisoo I swear—you are too tight!" you groan, but there’s never any real purpose to the complaint. The force of each thrust against Jisoo’s tight body sends her inching closer to the glass in front of her until her shoulders are pressed tight to it and your bodies nearly parallel.

Jisoo strains on the tips of her toes to meet your height, to where your cock delivered this impossible pleasure to the burning heat of her cunt. Her hands search on the window in front of her for something to grab onto, but quickly come up with nothing as the glass offers no such reprieve in its unyielding, bare surface. The best you can do to help is to hook your fingers around her elbows and pull her back, helping her stay upright

"Fuck me, you feel amazing Jisoo."

"You’re—Jesus—so hard right now ya know?" Jisoo labors to swallow again. "Don’t even think about cumming inside me just yet."

"Honest, I’ve been thinking about it since the moment I put my cock in you."

"Don’t you dare." She turns her to where you can see her face in profile, pulling you forward to kiss and breath heavy against her cheek. "Just shut up and fuck me."

There was hardly any room for misunderstanding in that.

The impact of your hips against hers continues to shake all kinds of curses and whines from her lips. She struggles to keep her head over her shoulder, eventually just resting one side of her face against the cold glass. But still she manages to hold you in her gaze, at least half of it, laboring fruitlessly to keep that usual cool expression from bending and yielding to the pleasure between her legs—incredible how quickly it all begins to fall apart at the seams.

"God! Right there!" she squeals, "it’s so fucking good—" All the words out of her mouth come in various states of composure, some of them airy, some rasped, others staccato and repeating—an utter mess pooling in your ears, but even still, they harmonize perfectly.

"Yes - god - fuck - that’s it." Struggling on her words, she sucks air sharply against her teeth and shuts her eyes tight. "Make me cum again—I’m so close!"

An intense heat smolders from deep inside Jisoo’s cunt, melting and aching around you. You recognize just how badly she needs to cum on your cock all because it’s the exact same chain reaction every time—muscles lock, lips part, eyebrows scrunch, and in a final desperate breath, she finds her lip between her teeth.

You lift yourself as much as Jisoo’s desperate grip on your shoulders will allow and search for her hips with your hands. She squirms as you hold her firm, pushing her tight, quivering body into the glass, and you take the opportunity that only the throes of orgasm might provide—to use her exactly how you need. If she’s going to cum twice, surely you’ve got the green light to have a crack at it once.

The muscles in your legs start to heat and stiffen as you push yourself into that tight warmth more urgent and frenzied than you could ever hope keep up with, but it doesn’t matter—It was never going to take a whole lot to fuck and pump yourself there.

"Jisoo," your voice strains, "I’m gonna—"

"Yeah—do it," she rasps, reaching her hands back and grabbing on tight to your thighs.

You drop your face into the silky hair behind her ear, selfishly taking in the addictive smell of her sweat and perfume. Your balls tense, you find a shallow breath to hold onto, and driving your cock into her again, you bury your cum deep into the tight depths of her throbbing heat.

"There you go. Let it out," Jisoo whispers against the window with a voice grown hoarse. "Cum in me like you always do—fucking fill me up."

You can count the seconds where you’re not sure if you’re alive or dead while you release yourself in Jisoo’s cunt—which by all means, is a warmth, a wetness, a tightness you could live in forever—but the ringing in your ears, the incorrigible knot in your stomach knocking on your throat, you feel yourself returning.

Your muscles burn, the curiously sour stench of sex fills your nose, and you collapse atop the mess you’d turned Jisoo into, the two of you gasping for breath and finding comfort in the cold touch of the window pane.

You share a moment of exhaustion between the two of you. Breaths heave midst your chests and sweat beads at your brow. As quick as it comes, the moment passes. Her hands relax from the makeshift handles she’d found on either cheek of your ass. And with two gentle pats to your rear, she more than makes herself understood.

Jisoo clears her throat. "Alright - get up - I need some water, and then I get to be on top."

—

When you wake up, there’s this mood in the room. Sofa cushions are on the floor, your clothes still trailing from the foyer entry to the window, the wrappers from a late night snack—but of course, as per usual, Jisoo’s nowhere to be seen.

You shuffle your feet from your bedroom door to the kitchen to find a note on the fridge.

"That’s new," you say under your breath, pulling the sticky note in front of your eyes and rubbing the sleep from out of them.

"Had to bounce. Borrowed that book by the way. I need to know what happens—does Jay get the girl of his dreams? Is there a happily ever after? Don’t spoil it for me. I’ll be back to return it soon enough.

Jisoo"

"That woman—I swear," you grumble, "it’s not a happy ending."

[poledancingdinos]

BFF Sy

Pairing: Young!Syverson & OFC (Gen fic)

Word Count: 1670 words

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha​ @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @rosecentury @shellyshellshell

A/N: I haven't been able to write anything for a while so instead of making actual progress on a WIP, I spent way too many hours formatting this for AO3 to justify having only written dialogue. So if you want to get the full experience, I recommend checking it out here. Made a creator skin and everything.

Masterlist

You 12:47 A.M. : Desi’s new friends are EXACTLY like Chris’ friends used to be, it’s almost disturbing

Sy 12:53 A.M. : Ain’t that a good thing? I thought ya missed the metalheads after the breakup.

You 12:54 A.M. : I did. It’s just so out of character for Desi, you know? Her new BF is so different from others before

Sy 12:55 A.M. : But yeah, when me and L left your place I joked that it felt like Desi was sitting between you and your boyfriend rather than her sitting next to her own BF. So weird to see her with an emo kid instead of a suit.

You 12:56 A.M. : I’m headed home

You 12:57 A.M. : It’s about an hour

Sy 12:57 A.M. : RIP

Sy 12:58 A.M. : Didja take your sleep aids so you can just go to bed when you get home?

You 12:58 A.M. : Not yet

You 12:58 A.M. : Don’t want to risk having a dizzy spell on my solo walk home

Sy 12:59 A.M. : Fair.

You 12:59 A.M. : I’m pretty far from home so I’m being a little more safety minded

Sy 1:00 A.M. : Good. We just finished up a bit of cardio so now I’m wide awake and L is passed out 🤣

You 1:00 A.M. : Funny, it’s usually the other way around

Sy 1:01 A.M. : It’s the clean up afterwards that always wakes me up.

Sy 1:02 A.M. : I can doom scroll a bit and keep ya company if ya want.

You 1:03 A.M. : I wouldn’t mind a witness to my survival

You 1:04 A.M. : Right now I’m sitting in the first subway car behind the driver but as I walk I may call you

Sy 1:05 A.M. : Sure thing.

You 1:06 A.M. : Anyway, the guys were nice but loud as fuck

You 1:06 A.M. : Very into screaming along with the music

Sy 1:07 A.M. : Oh boy. How was Desi handling it?

You 1:07 A.M. : Well actually

You 1:08 A.M. : Even when her BF’s band showed up and things got extra loud

Sy 1:09 A.M. : You know, I was a little bummed I missed the night out with you guys when ya texted me earlier.

Sy 1:09 A.M. : Doesn’t sound like something I would have enjoyed after all lol

You 1:10 A.M. : Not at all. You like good music but not at that volume

You 1:12 A.M. : I wasn’t supposed to go but Leon said I was welcome as he left and Desi confessed that she had never met most of the people that were there and that she would appreciate a familiar face so I went with her after supper

Sy 1:13 A.M. : That’s nice

You 1:14 A.M. : But it was loud enough that my throat is a little raw now. I was honestly concerned that someone would call the cops

Sy 1:16 A.M. : Maybe with enough alcohol I would have been able to have fun lol

You 1:16 A.M. : I was the only sober person. The others had either had copious amounts of alcohol or copious amounts of weed

Sy 1:17 A.M. : It’s better you be sober for the return trip anyway.

You 1:18 A.M. : Leon and his back up vocalist were singing Bohemian Rhapsody at one point and Leon was chugging beer to rehydrate between the different parts 🤣

Sy 1:19 A.M. : Isn’t that how the professionals do it? 😅

You 1:20 A.M. : Only the ones in need of weekly meetings in church basements

Sy 1:21 A.M. : To be fair, the fact that he was able to both remember and sing the lyrics while drunk and high is impressive.

You 1:22 A.M. : Gotta give credit where credit is due, I guess 🤷‍♀️

You 1:23 A.M. : Getting off at the next stop

Sy 1:24 A.M. : Alright.

Sy 1:24 A.M. : Then you catch a bus?

You 1:25 A.M. : No, it’s a 15 minute walk

You 1:26 A.M. : Out of the station and walking

Sy 1:27 A.M. : Call whenever.

I wait until I’m across the street from the station to lift my phone to my ear. It only rings once before the call connects and I hear Sy’s deep voice.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

I hop down from the sidewalk onto the street to pass a man walking ahead of me. Why do people insist on moving at a crawl dead center in the middle of the sidewalk I will never understand.

“Didja have fun tonight?”

“Surprisingly, yes but not as much as you, I bet.”

Sy chuckles on the other end of the line. “Matter of perspective.”

“How was your family dinner?”

“Painful. Except for the dog. It was nice to have her around again.”

Sy’s apartment doesn’t allow pets other than for short visits so he wasn’t able to get his own dog after leaving his mother’s. Frankly, the dog is probably the main reason he didn’t move out sooner. He held out way longer than I would have. He’s also a good southern boy and doesn’t ever talk back, unlike me. I’ve got a mouth on me and I ain’t afraid to use it to tell people where they can shove it.

“What about you? Anything interestin’ happen after I left?”

“Not really, we mostly got caught up on our girl talk. Leon left around five to get to his mother’s day dinner. Desi and I left my place around eight. We ate at the little burger place on the corner then got to Leon’s a little before ten.”

I walk past the restaurant in question as I speak.

“Did it start rainin’ out?”

“More like lightly drizzling.”

“Are you still only wearin’ your shorts and crop top?”

I know he’s mostly asking out of worry that I’m going to get cold but I have no doubt there’s also a little part of him that’s worried my outfit from earlier would attract unwanted attention.

“I changed into jeans before leaving since I knew the walk home would be chilly and I put my giant hoodie on for the trip home.”

It’s a triple XL zip front I got from my old job. I found a bunch of old seasonal shirts when cleaning out the store room and my boss had let me take my pick of the leftovers before donating the rest. There had been one hoodie at the very bottom that had likely remained unclaimed because of the size. You could fit three of me in it at the same time but it’s comfortable and right now, it’s a small protection against potential unwanted attention.

“I’ve only seen, like, three people on the street and the road is well lit but, you know…”

“Better safe than sorry. I don’t mind darlin’.”

I can tell he’s getting tired since it’s about three hours past his normal bedtime. I’ve never been particularly worried about walking home alone at night. Hell, I’ve wandered around strange cities in the middle of the night to sober up in the hopes of avoiding a nasty hangover. Just the other day the girls I work with were saying how they don’t like taking the subway at night because they had too many bad experiences with being catcalled or with other passengers making them uncomfortable.

Me? Well, I’ve never been catcalled and men don’t normally look twice at me. I guess my above average height and my resting bitch face have made me overly confident. Or I’m just proof that women don’t come out of the womb feeling the need to clutch their keys in their fist at night unless men have done something to make them feel unsafe.

“At least I remembered to charge my phone before leaving.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

I wasn’t expecting Sy to actually be awake when I texted so the phone battery was more to make sure I knew when the last subway was and to call a cab in case I missed it.

“So are you camping out on the couch while we talk?”

L is surprisingly cool with our friendship but I’m pretty sure being woken up by your boyfriend talking on the phone with another woman in the middle of the night is a no-go for even the most laidback of girlfriends.

“Yeah. I got up for some water so I figured I’d just stay out here and avoid wakin’ L.”

“How dirty did you get her that the clean up pulled you out of the post nut drowsiness? You start dabbling in watersports or something?”

“Fuck off, there were no water sports involved.” Sy releases an audible yawn. “I didn’t think I’d miss condoms but they sure as hell made cleanup faster. By the time we both finish up in the bathroom I’m always wide awake.”

I hum in understanding. L is Sy’s first long-term girlfriend and they just recently dropped the latex after L got on birth control. “Do you have to get up to do that?”

“What, ya want us to just roll over and go to sleep? I already sweat my balls off at night, I don’t need to add wet spots into the mix.”

“You could keep baby wipes by the bed for late night cardio sessions. Avoid having to get up and go to the bathroom. Or bring a wet rag in with you beforehand.”

“That’s… not a bad idea actually.”

I pull my bag off my shoulder as I wait for the light to change. Might as well dig my keys out since I’m almost home. “Yeah, I’m full of good sex advice.” 

“I knew I kept ya around for a reason.”

I smile to myself. We both know that we wouldn’t have made it to ten years of friendship if all I had to offer was sex advice.

“I’m about to turn onto my street. I feel like the walk was shorter than usual.”

“Well, you’re breathin’ kinda heavy. You must’ve been walkin’ faster.”

He’s not wrong. I must be really out of shape if I can’t walk and talk without getting winded. Holding my phone between my cheek and my shoulder, I put my key in the lock and pull the door open.

I don’t remember what time it is until the door slams shut behind me. Oops.

“I’m safely behind a locked door. You are relieved from your babysitting duties.”

I linger in the entrance for a few seconds since the call would probably cut off if I stepped into the elevator.

“I’m up for babysittin’ whenever ya need it. Glad you’re home safe. G’night.”

“Good night.”

[leeknowlover99]

Jake drabble - Prove it then

masterlist

word count: 2,2k

friends to lovers if you squint

warnings: smut, blowjob, drinking, smoking, swearing, dirty talk

„fuck” you yelled angrily propping yourself up on your knees and trying to catch a breath. yellow bus just drove away 5 minutes earlier than it was scheduled. „motherfucker!!!” you yelled and kicked nearest object you found - trash can filled to the brim with empty cans and bottles became your victim. few bottles fell out of it and rolled on the pavement with loud clinking. it was the last bus that could take you to the small town where you were renting your apartment. dang, only if your tinder date did not try to kiss you maybe you’d make it. the guy was tragic, he kept talking about himself all evening, split the bill and awkwardly tried to kiss you after all that. and now you were stuck in the city. first morning bus was leaving at 5 am so you still had few hours to pass around. you were already feeling a bit sleepy, probably after all that boring stories your date told you. your feet were starting to hurt a bit as you made a stupid mistake of wearing platform heels today, trying to impress this idiot guy. god, what was happening with you?? your life was a mess lately. but now all you knew was you have to find a place to crash somewhere till 5 am. think Y/N, think you told yourself. you could go to a club or a bar, it was saturday night so most places would be open and busy but you weren’t in the mood. normally you would crash at your best friends flat but her parents were visiting her this weekend so it was a no go. it looked like you only had one option left, you opened chat with Jake and typed:

hi

are you in town? i need a place to crash, missed the last bus :((

three dots appeared immediately. thank god he was awake, you just hoped he was not at some party as it was his usual weekend routine. text appeared:

hello

you can come over if you want ;)

typical Jake, always flirty for no reason. you rolled your eyes and texted him back.

omw then, thanks

your relation with Jake was undefined, you weren’t close enough to be called friends but you knew each other quite well. you used to hang out more often but sometimes things got weird between you. tension was always there but you don’t think there was more and neither of you wanted to make a move. sometimes you wondered what it would be like. to kiss his pretty lips, feel his hot body pressing against you or wake up next to him and cuddle all day. but usually you quickly dismissed these images from your head. however they kept coming back as you made your way to his place. fortunately he lived only two crossing from the bus stop so you arrived quickly before your mind drifted to far.

you knocked on his doors impatiently, you got a bit cold on the way and could not wait to warm up. he opened and leaned against the doorframe lazily. he was wearing home attire - loose grey sweats and tank top, his muscular arms peeking from tight material. he must’ve just taken the shower as his hair was dump and slicked back. damn he was hot. you realised you were staring but when you snapped back to reality you noticed he was staring too. after all, you did make an effort to look good today, did your make up and wore your favourite black dress. he whistled looking you up and down.

“will you let me in ?” you huffed.

“sorry, was wondering why are you here when it looks like you clearly had other plans for the night” he smirked and let you in.

“please don’t make me more miserable than i already am” you sighed.

Jake invited you to his room and you immediately made your way to his bed. finally your feet could rest, you rolled your toes feeling relief after spending all evening in those platforms. Jake followed you to his room after a minute carrying two beers from the kitchen.

“hey, outside clothes are not allowed on the bed” he grabbed your hand to lift you up.

you looked at him annoyed. he was not making it easy for you today.

“if you want me to strip so bad just ask” you teased getting up.

he raised his eyebrow in response.

“cocky are you? you must’ve really have a bad evening. want a smoke?” he fished out a pack of marlboros from his pocket.

“why not”

you grabbed a fluffy blanket and sat on the garden chair slowly sipping beer and smoking. Jake lived on 4th floor so view from the balcony was quite nice. you enjoyed watching the small crescent moon and few stars that were visible above you.

“i thought you quit” he said pulling you out of your thoughts. at first you didn’t get that he was referring to smoking and you frowned at him. he gestured to your hand, cigarette resting between your fingers.

“oh, yeah i did. guess you’re the bad influence” you joked.

“i don’t think it is me sweetheart.” there he was with the flirty nicknames. but he was right, it was not him. it was you who was lost and continued to make one bad decision after another.

“yeah, i just have a tough time lately” you said not looking at him. “can i have another one?” you said putting out your current cigarette.

“lucky for you, it was the last one” he winked at you showing you empty package. “so did your date went bad or what?” he asked.

“yeah. he was a jerk. like all of the guys apparently” you rolled your eyes.

“can i share my opinion?” he stood up in front of you.

“if you have to.”

“i think it’s because you’re always choosing assholes while there are much better guys out there.” he said confidently looking at you.

“oh really? guys like who? you?” you stood up and met his gaze. he was being annoyingly cocky.

“maybe” he licked his lips. he was the opposite of a good guy actually. but he was the tempting one.

you grabbed him by the collar of his tank top and yanked towards you. your faces were centimeters away now. you were so close you felt his breath quickened. after looking into his dark eyes you flicked your eyes towards his lips and back up.

“don’t start something you can’t finish Y/N” he warned, you were still holding his tank top.

“who sad I cannot finish it?” you asked tilting your head slightly and after that you let go of him and turned around to go back inside.

“i’m going to take a shower now”. you were taking a step into the bedroom when Jake grabbed your forearm and forced you to turn around, you bumped into him slightly and your heart started beating faster as you saw his dark eyes piercing you.

“prove it then. prove what you just said” his voice was quiet but cold and demanding, sending shivers down your spine. blanket was long gone from your shoulders pooling on the floor and cold air was brushing against your exposed body but your skin was burning. thousands thoughts rolled through your head trying to decide whether to take this step or not. blame it on the alcohol or the haze from smoking after such a long time but there was only one winning voice and it told you do it.

you crashed your lips against his with a force. he seemed shocked for good few seconds as he was not kissing you back. just when you were about to pull out you felt his hot fingers grab your neck and his lips roughly moved against yours. there was nothing gentle or pure about the way you were making out. tongues dancing together, jake biting your lower lip from time to time. one of your hands was grabbing and pulling on his hair while other was holding his biceps, god his body was amazing, hot and hard under you fingers, your hand feeling small next to his arm. jake was not wasting time either, he acted like man starved, exploring your waist and grabbing your ass, soon his fingers started to wonder under your skimpy dress as he pressed you against the balcony railing, you felt his hard on against your stomach and it made you weak in your knees, good thing he was holding you tight. his fingers teased your inner thighs and slowly moved towards your panties.

“fuck, you’re so wet” he hissed against your lips when he made contact with your clothed core, his fingers feeling your entrance through the thin material. you could not hold a quite moan and burried your face in jake’s neck as his started playing with your clit. you nipped at his skin lightly. he started to move your panties to the side, you grabbed his hand and looked at him wide eyes, damn he looked hot, lips plump from all the kissing, pupils dilated and breath fast. “jake, not outside” you managed to say. he grinned smugly in response.

“oh yeah? why not? are you embarrassed someone is going to see?” he asked grabbing your neck and choking you slightly.

you decided to pull a move to distract him and leaned to whisper in his ear “want your cock so bad daddy” he stiffened and raised his eyebrow at you. “fucking get inside now” he gritted through his teeth. looks like you little stunt did work perfectly.

you stumbled towards the bed together and messily landed on the soft mattress. you climbed on jakes lap and nagged at him to take off his tank top. it revealed mouthwatering sight of his abs and v line disappearing where waistband of his sweats hang low. you pressed open mouth kisses and sucked on his neck as you moved slowly down his body. he threw his head back and groaned. “baby hurry, i want to feel you” he panted after a while of your teasing. you finally got him what he needed and palmed his hard dick, it was painfully big in your hand. “impatient are we?” you tsked at him. “for you always”. you took off his sweats and boxers and kneeled to kiss the red swollen tip of his dick. it looked delicious and tasted a little salty. you gave it a good suck before starting to move your head up and down. “fuck baby you’re so good” he grunted as you sped up, drool starting to drip down your chin and eyes watering. he made a ponytail of you hair and helped you move faster and take him deeper. few more moves and he yanked you off his cock. “i’m gonna cum if you don’t stop” he explained and moved on top of you “god this dress needs to go” he undressed you and you could see his gaze became even darker when he saw you fully naked underneath him. “god you have no idea how hard i wanted this” he whispered sucking on your hard nipples and fondling with your breast. he surprised you with that statement but you did not have time to think about it as you felt yourself become even wetter and your cunt clenching around nothing. “ jake need more please” you begged. he shout you up with a kiss. his dick grinding against your wet core made you gasped in his lips. “will you take it without a prep?” he asked sucking on your neck and putting light pressure on your entrance with his tip. he was making you crazy. your whole body was on fire, you were leaning towards his touch, craving it. “please” you moaned. “good girl” he praised and thrusted in you. it was quite a stretch because he was so big but you liked the burn and after few shallow thrusts it went away and pleasure replaced it. he was deliciously thick and warm. you nagged at him to move faster and he stopped holding back, thrusting roughly and picking up a pace. he was hitting your soft spot perfectly, you orgasm was building up. “god you’re so perfect” jake was completely lost muttering praises, his face burried in your neck. “jake i’m close” you said and lifted your legs to place them on his shoulders, new angle making him go deeper and your pussy clench harder. “you’re so hot, i’m gonna cum soon too” he said as his eyes followed your moving tits. you reached your hand down to circle your clit and moaned at how sensitive you were. it felt too good, jakes hot sweaty body on you, his thick cock massaging your wet walls, your orgasm came suddenly and made you whine loudly, pleasure rolling through your body, you arched your back slowly coming down from your high. jake was still thrusting roughly. “ can i come inside?” he asked kissing you messily as you lowered your legs to cross them around his waist. “yes i’m on a pill, please come inside jake” you coaxed him and seconds later he filled you with his cum. he kissed you passionately, soft lips moving together, tongues lazily meeting, his dick was still inside. “god that was amazing” he smiled at you. “so did i prove it to you?” you teased. “i might need a seconded try” he made a thinking face and you smacked his arm laughing. “care to join me in the shower?” you asked

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 13

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: Have a wonderful day!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

You hear Jonathan stirring before you leave your room. You carry your clothes into the bathroom and get ready quickly. You are almost excited to get back to work, to get back to routine, if only to have a distraction from the chaos.

As you enter the kitchen, you smell coffee. Jonathan is dressed already, his suit clean and pressed. You hope he didn’t have too much trouble with your cheap iron and tiny board. 

“Morning,” he greets with a smile.

“Morning,” you return as you go to the machine. He’s there before you, sliding over an empty mug for you. You fill it and smile sheepishly at the countertop, “thanks.”

“Not at all,” he lingers close to you, “I should apologise. For waking you up so early. My mother never has good timing.”

“It’s fine. Really. That’s… nice that she called,” you rub your neck and back away with your mug in hand, “you must miss her.”

“Certainly,” he takes his own cup and sips between words, “but I dare think my parents are better off without me. They do enjoy an empty nest.”

“Ah,” you nod, cradling the cup as you bask in the warmth. 

“And your parents? Do they live far from here?”

“A few towns over,” you answer, “they’re swept up in my sister’s wedding though. I don’t hear from them.”

“Pity for them,” he says, “they are missing out on a wonderful daughter.”

You chuckle dryly, “sometimes…”

“What? Sometimes… what?” He prompts.

“Nothing, just… you’re too nice. That’s all.”

“If that is my greatest flaw, then I think I’m doing just fine,” he kids.

“Be careful or you might end up like me. If you’re nice to the wrong person, they might just kick in your door,” you scoff and take a reviving sip of coffee.

He doesn’t laugh. You look up at him and swallow tightly, “I was joking.”

“I know. I just don’t think it’s very funny what he’s done,” Jonathan says, “forgive my lack of humour, but it worries me. To think if I hadn’t come in to return your lip balm, what he could’ve done.”

A cold wash flows over you and your face falls. You are suddenly very sober with fear. You nod and back away.

“I know, but he’ll forget about me. He’s that sort, you know? Always on to the next girl.”

“Hmm, perhaps,” Jonathan utters doubtfully.

“Well, lots to catch up on today,” you change the subject as you sit at the small round table by the wall, “I should enjoy these few spreadsheet-free moments.”

“Uh huh,” he nears and sits across from you, concern furrowing in his forehead, “it will be quite the day,” he checks his watch before planting his elbow and cradling his chin, “I’ve a meeting in Carline. I’ll have to drop you at the office and go.”

“Oh, that’s… I could catch the bus–”

“Nonsense, it is on my way out of town,” he insists as he sits back and lets his arm fall over, “I should be back before the end of the day but…” he turns his head, peeking from the corner of his eyes towards the door behind him, “if I am not…”

“I’ll be okay,” you say, not fully convinced.

“I could always leave you my spare key–”

“Really, that’s too much. How about… I’ll text you and let you know when I get in?”

He sighs and swirls his fingers on the tabletop, “he is a very aggressive man and you are…”

“I’m an adult,” you say, “I’ll have to go off on my own sooner than later.”

“Yes, yes, suppose you are right, but I can’t help it. It is only you don’t deserve all this stress,” he brings his hand to the handle of his mug, “perhaps, however, I did set him straight and he knows better.” He lifts his cup, “Still, I will be certain to keep my phone close.”

“Alright,” you agree, pushing away your trepidation. You’ll just have to be sure to be quick and quiet when you get in.

🌼

Jonathan lets you off outside the building and you look up at the corporate brick front with a sense of relief. Not just to be away from your apartment, but to have some time away from your overly attentive boss. He's nice enough but you're starting to feel a bit crowded. A day apart would do you well and hopefully dispel any errant suspicions of unprofessionalism.

Your desk awaits you in its simple tedium. You brew a pot at the shared machine in the break room and wait for the slow trickle to spew out enough for a cup. You take your coffee to your computer and watch it boot, the buffering circle spinning as the old hardware chuffs.

Shari arrives and claims a cup of her own. She gives a hum as she settles in at her desk and yawns. She looks at her mug and doffs it in your direction.

"I can always tell when you've made the coffee," she chimes.

"Right, you only like it when you don't have to do it yourself," you scoff as you wiggle your mouse and open up your browser.

"Not gonna deny that," she chuckles, "feelin' better?"

You look at her, hesitating. Oh yeah, you suppose everyone thought you were off sick. You suppose you were as good as.

"Yeah, vaguely," you shrug, "migraine."

"Ah," she takes a loud swig, "and where's that handsome boss of ours today?"

You don't look at her, focusing on your screen, "hm, I think he has a meeting. Says so in the calendar."

"Sure, the calendar says so," she snorts, "he also had a personal day..."

"Really?" You let your pinky edge over your lower lip and bite down on it.

"Hey," she lowers her voice to a whisper and wheels around the side of her cubicle, "I won't tell anyone. I just wanna hear how it was. Is he as good as I imagine?"

"Shari," you gasp, "really, it's not like that--"

"Anyone with eyes can see he's into you," she smirks, "a man like that knows how to keep his cool but around you..."

You growl her name again and give a sharp look, "he's my boss."

"What no one knows, can't hurt you. You know I can keep a secret. The hubby still doesn't know my book club is a bowling club," she smirks.

"Right," you shake your head and turn your attention back to your computer, "well, there's nothing to keep secret so it should be easy."

🌼

Lunch rolls around as you find yourself bogged down in all the work you have to catch up. As is stands, you were already working from behind. You skip the tuna sandwich you stuffed in your bag and opt instead for another cup of coffee. You sit with your chin in hand, going crossed eye at the excel sheets.

The monotony of the office lulls you, making it hard to keep your eyes open. You long for your apartment and a nice hot bath. That yearning doesn't last as the dread returns. Right, you don't even know if you'll come home to a front door.

Your phone buzzes and you check the notifications, swiveling slightly to read the screen. Jonathan checking in unexpectedly, confirming his arrival in Carline and his intention to be back in town around three. You have another message that gives you pause. The name over it matches the several missed calls you didn't notice in your mindless trance of expense reports and monthly budgets.

Colin. He only ever texted before to see if you were in so he could bum on your couch or mooch a meal from you. That's clear now. You can't believe you were ever giddy to see his name on your phone.

You hit the voicemail icon and put the phone to your ear. You listen to the automated voice that declares you have five new messages. The speaker scuffs before the first starts. It's him.

"Hey, buttercup. I guess you went out with that idiot wanker. I can't seem to find you..." you hear something bang, "nope, not hiding in the closet..." You hit seven to delete and the next message starts. "You better answer before I get real fucking pissed. I just wanna talk, buttercup. And I know you want me. So let's meet halfway--" Delete. "I'm about to break something, sweetheart--" Seven, delete. "PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE!" 

You delete all the messages as a new text pops up. Your thumb hits it without a thought and you see the endless scroll of caps lock floating in bubble up the chat. Every one is just an echo of what was in your voicemail. And pictures. Of your apartment, of your shelf overturned and the contents tossed over the floor. Your pillows shredded as feathers litter the carpet.

You black out your phone and push it deep into your bag. Not right now. You'll have to deal with it later. Maybe you'll wait around for Jonathan after all. Or maybe... maybe you can sort this out without troubling him any further.

You keep a hold of your phone and pull it back out. You ignore the urgent buzzing and search your contacts. You get up and leave your desk, going into the staircase to hide behind the heavy metal door. You hit Ally's name and let out a shaky breath. You wait for her to answer as you chew your thumb.

"Hey!" She chirps through the speaker, "what's up?"

"Hi, Ally, uh...." you don't know what you were thinking. What was you plan here? "Are you, er, with Colin?"

"Nah, I'm working unlike his lazy ass," she laughs, "why, what's up?"

"Well, um, I don't know how to say this... Ally, I'm going to send you some stuff, one second..."

You pull the phone away from your cheek and minimize the call. You bring up the chat and scroll, swiping your hand to screencap the litany of messages, barely able to catch them all as more spew in. You hold your breath as you go into Ally's chat and attach the images. You close your eyes and tap the send arrow.

You put the cell back to your ear and clear your throat, "Ally, please... just read what I sent you."

"Huh, alright," she giggles, "you're always so ser--" her voice cuts off as you sense the audio change as she puts you on speaker. "What the fuck?"

Silence as you sway, pacing on the leveled plain above the flight of stairs, waiting.

"Why-- did you fuck my boyfriend?"

"What? No. Ally. He-- He's the one who broke into my apartment. He's-- he's terrorizing me--"

"And why would he do that unless you were sneaking behind me back? I'm not stupid, I've seen you drooling over him."

"Al, no, I wouldn't--"

"Sure you would. I just can't believe he would," she snarls, "you're so pathetic. You fuck my boyfriend and now you think you can break us up?"

"No!"

"Go fuck yourself, you sad old spinster," she barks and the line dies.

You stare at the phone, stunned. What did you just do?

🌼

You find it hard to shake the uneasiness cast by Colin's message and Ally's reaction. You suspect you've lost two friends in less than a week. All because you were stupid enough to like someone. Because you, an adult, had a dumb crush. Ugh.

You keep your nerves at ease through your work. The numbers are easier than emotions. Around two, your eyes flit back and forth between your spreadsheet and the time in the corner. You wonder when Jonathan will be back or even what you'll tell him. Should you tell him any of it?

You hear the elevator doors swish open and hit save on the file. You pivot, expecting your boss to be striding in early, instead finding a very much unexpected and unwelcome face.

You gape at Colin as he scowls around the office at the dronish workers, many of whom are too caffeine addled or underslept to notice him. You get up, hoping to get him out before he can start anything. You know by the tension in his neck that he's up to no good.

"I wanna talk to the fucking boss," he demands, jolting several people from their waking comas as other pop their heads over their cubicle walls. Shari lets out a strange noise and mops up coffee from her chin as it dribbles down.

"Who's this?" She hisses as you take a step forward.

"Boss isn't here," Ed snorts from his desk, "and we're not hiring."

"I'm not here--" Colin starts, "fuck your fucking jobs." He sneers, "who the fuck is in charge here?"

"Colin, please," you put your hands up pleadingly, "please, just go. We can talk after work--"

"No, no, you had your chance so I'll say what I came here to say and I want everyone in this office to hear it," he snaps, "so tell me where that British douchebag is."

"He's not here," you croak, "Colin--"

"Fine, who needs him," he stomps his foot, "hey, everyone, guess who's fucking her boss?"

"I-- I'm not," you exclaim, voice squeaking, "I swear-- he's crazy. He's just my neighbour, he doesn't--"

"Why else would he be hanging out at her apartment? He was there all night. I have proof," Colin waves his phone around, "so someone tell me who I send it to because I think HR will be real interested in this--"

"Colin, get out! Go away! Why are you doing this?"

"Ah, come on, you," he points to Monica and shoves his phone towards, her, "they looks real cozy, don't they?"

"Colin," you beg as you follow him, "please--"

The elevator doors part again but you barely notice as you try to snatch Colin's cell away. He holds it above his head and nudges you away. He snickers in your face.

"What is the meaning of this?" Jonathan's timbre rips through the babble of your coworkers and Colin's laughter, "Shari, call security."

"Ah, there he is. The star of the show. I was just coming to file a complaint," Colin face Jonathan, "you've been shitting where you eat, big guy and I have it all right here--"

Jonathan stands stoically across from Colin. It's like a Great Dane staring down and uppity chihuahua. He tilts his head slightly and peers past the intruder.

"Shari, put the phone down," Jonathan waves her hand down, "I shall deal with this myself."

Jonathan steps forward, coming chest to chest, or just above Colin's chest, as he glares down his adversary.

"I suggest you leave or I may just have to escort you out. I'm certain you don't wish to repeat last night," he warns.

"Nah, I'll stay--"

Colin barely keeps a grip on his phone as he grunts. Jonathan grabs him by the front of his hoodie and drags him away from the bullpen. Colin struggles with him, stomping around, trying to crush the other man's sleek leather shoes. 

Jonathan spins as Colin's fist glances past the instinctive turn of his head. Your boss keeps a hold of your neighbour with one hand and presses the elevator button. The belts grind, and the doors open. He dodges another fist as he throws Colin into the box.

"Good day, sir," He taps the down button as Colin lands on his ass. The doors open and leaves the office in deafening silence.  Jonathan turns to face his audience and raises his chin, "back to work."

He strides past you and between the cubicles. He swings his office door shut behind him, punctuating the tension. You gulp and go back to your desk, sitting numbly as your eyes haze with tears.

"I knew it," Shari trills.

[legendary-guest]

High school sucks, from puberty to petty relationship drama to navigating the cliques - not to mention the teachers! Some so crabby, so lippy, so unfair, so mean that you could swear they were...evil?

Meet Dr. Drew Lipsky and Ms. Shea Go! Other outfits linked here. Lots of text under the cut.

"Mr. Lipsky is my father. You will address me as Dr. Lipsky."

It is difficult to escape Dr. Lipsky on the learning side of the high school ecosystem, he practically runs every class that involves math or science.

Arrogant, grouchy and with a tendency to ramble, Doc runs his classroom with an iron fist and a strict no lip policy. He is seldom seen without his ruler, which he uses to write along the chalkboard with his terrible handwriting, draw diagrams, gesture wildly with and slam on sleeping students' desks to rudely wake them. Despite this unpleasant behaviour, he has obvious favourite students - some of them have gone a long way just by sucking up to him - like not being yelled at and being one of the privileged few that haven't been damned to detention for a minor transgression. He's not just mean, he's also weird.

He likes to show-off the fact that he can draw a perfect circle, free-handed. This impresses a lot of the kids, until it becomes dull - he is workshopping drawing a perfect dodecahedron free-handed (it's not going well). School festivities and similar events, not centred around sport, tend to have him actively organising and participating in them. Always decorates the classroom around Christmas time, becomes unbearably cheery. His love for Snowman Hank is infamous.

Students have figured out an effective method to avoid learning - by getting Dr. Lipsky to talk about himself, or anything that vaguely interests him, he isn't difficult to distract. If he realises what's happening, everyone gets extra homework. If he doesn't and class ends, he seethes about it.

Of course, this means that he's always marking, always busy, a vicious feedback loop. He secretly doesn't mind this, as it keeps him occupied, away from depressing thoughts and crushing loneliness. His job is his social life, but even this is difficult as the only real rapport he has with anyone are the students he rambles to. Well, them and now Ms. Go, whom he carpools with - picking him up and dropping him off 5 days a week, just the two of them. His own car was totalled by Ed, and unable to afford another on a teacher's salary, he'd been catching the bus to and from work. His garage has turned into a workshop, where he tinkers with fixing old computers, building robots, lasers, programming microchips, etc. He really doesn't spend time in his own home.

Drew is dyslexic but doesn't know it - he's found ways to manage this. One of these ways is calling on kids who he knows are in Ms. Go's classes - he always knows them - to help him spell something. “How do you spell it?” “What?” “What do you mean ‘what?’ I know you’re in Miss Go’s AP Literature class, so tell me how to spell it!” “Uh…” [spelling ensues] “That wasn’t so difficult now was it?” “Thanks would be nice” “Detention.” “What?” “I heard you talk back. Detention. I’m old, not deaf.” Unlike Drakken, the subject of his blue skin and scar aren't things he's keen to talk about. He addresses it once at the beginning of every semester to the students to quell rumours and that's it. “Before you all start asking, I’ll tell you. This nasty scar? Lab accident. Blue skin? Lab accident. Is it contagious? No. We’re speaking about injuries, not cooties. So, you know I take lab safety very, very seriously. Gloves, closed shoes and glasses in the lab at all times! Last thing I need is a lawsuit from your parents.” No member of staff, including Ms. Go, know why he is blue.

He is still a college drop-out - his doctorate and teaching certifications are fake. He has never been caught. The inciting incident for dropping out (I have yet to cement whether or not it is the Bebes) has defeated him instead of motivating him. Drew Lipsky is still Drakken, but listless, without real focus or ambition, prone to indifference and depression. As Dr. Lipsky, he is a genuinely good, competent teacher, despite all his faults - the need to explain things, repeatedly, helps him in the profession.

Ms. Go is the hot new English teacher at school! Although she is new to teaching on her own, she is not as naïve as some might think. With her experience as Shego, member of Team Go from Go City, dealing with her brothers and various criminals and villains alike, Ms. Go knows her way around people - the Child Development qualification is merely a bonus.

Staff and students don't know of Ms. Go's hero identity and she goes to great lengths to deceive students that point out her strangely tinted skin - by telling them that it's merely the fluorescent lights in the school that make her appear green, and that, maybe, they should be more focused on what's on the board. Several students have started wearing glasses since her employment. Gaslighting the kids is something she enjoys immensely. Dr. Lipsky has noticed, too, but he doesn't bring it up, accepting her reasoning - for now.

Her attractiveness is no secret, with many a boy harbouring a crush on her, some of the bolder ones hitting on her in class or the hallway. Ms. Go effectively destroys the fragile, male teen ego in a single, creatively worded sentence, leaving a path of bitter, broken hearts (and sometimes tears) behind her. Creative put-downs aren't just reserved for boys that hit on her.

Ms. Go's criteria for her hitlist include: disrupting class, poor enunciation/pronunciation, mumbling, using the wrong words, incorrect/poor grammar, and abuse of teen slang in class.

Anything that isn't a school textbook or notebook that is left behind in Ms. Go's classroom goes missing. Pencils, pens, spare change, personal diaries, MP3 players, CD players, gum (which they shouldn't have anyway!) - gone. Ms. Go picks the room CLEAN as soon as all of them leave - finders keepers! She has an impressive collection, and shares the spoils with Dr. Lipsky. Forgot something in Ms. Go's class? FORGET IT! She gives props to those who can clap back in a creative (grammatically correct, well-spoken) way. For this, she is a very divisive figure, fluctuating between cool-hot-mean-bitchy at all times.

The popular, self-absorbed girls try to emulate Ms. Go, from her mannerisms to her style. She doesn't mind this, and even has some fun in seeing how far she can take it.

Ms. Go runs her classes efficiently and she never assigns extra homework - she doesn't want to mark it. She clocks in at 7am and clocks out at 3:30pm, not a minute before or after.

She has an expensive sports car (I'm thinking a Maserati), which she was able to procure from the Mayor of Go City for her service. Hego was, is, very upset over this. Although she has been out of the hero game for a while, something about the unusually hued Dr. Drew Lipsky had her extend the offer to carpool - just him. Especially after she saw him come to work, late, soaking wet from some surprise torrential rain, snarling and growling and snapping at anyone who so much as looked at him funny - only to be berated by the principal on top of it all.

Her degree in Child Development means that she holds the position of school counsellor. Problem is, no one wants to see her! Who does after hearing all the mean things she says? Her small office is rarely visited, to the point where Dr. Lipsky has moved in with all his stuff, mountains of paper that made his corner of the teacher's lounge very unseemly. Anyone who knocks is met with the Doc's intimidating stature and signature frown.

Ms. Go and Dr. Lipsky sit by themselves in the small office, never in the teacher's lounge. Drew will sometimes stay back and work, catching the bus home, whilst Shea goes home. As they get closer, Ms. Go will sometimes just go for a few hours and return to the school to take the Doc home. Although it seems like she's got it all, at the end of the day, she still goes home to her apartment - alone. Used to being surrounded by her family, as annoying as they are, used to the excitement and rush of hero work, and no longer actively using her powers, Shea is not too sure what to make of normal, civilian life. Especially after hers has been anything but. Partying, clubbing and shopping on the weekends are fun, but the prospect of socialising with others, finding interests that aren't focused on her career is daunting, if not a little frightening, if she were honest with herself. Shego, as Ms. Go, still calls him Dr. D (for 'Drew', she says the alliteration makes it fun to say) and Doc. Drew Lipsky for when she really wants to annoy him.

Drew/Drakken having dyslexia, Drew/Drakken taking the bus and the name Shea for Shego's real name are all lifted from Dwelling by @gogofordrakgo. The AU has been stewing for a very long time, almost as long as I have been reviewing. All elements lifted have been credited. I see several paths for it.

A 'Normal' AU where they exist within the KP world but never become villains, and don't teach at Middleton High School.

An Origin Story of how Drakken and Shego met teaching at some high school and then getting into villainy together.

An AU where they are teachers at Middleton High School and Kim and Ron are students there, still saving the world. They still play an antagonistic role, Drakken more than Shego, with Shego empathising with Kim without breaking her Shego-ness and becoming too nice, still distance between them. Ron would also be Shego's one-and-only student that she sees as a counsellor. Their sessions consist of having him accompany her to the mall - retail therapy. In this version of the AU, the recurring villains would be The Seniors. Senior Sr. is a big name supervillain looking to retire and is training his spoiled, sheltered son Senior Jr. to take up the mantle, but all he's interested in is becoming a teen-pop sensation, even though he learns quickly and can take on KP. Senior Sr. finds Kim Possible, not only a worthy adversary, but the ideal match for his son! He is the number one Kim x Junior shipper. (500k slow-burn, enemies to lovers epic fanfic, babies ever after - 7 for all 7 continents - 4 girls and 3 boys - evil-and-in-love - he's planned Junior's entire life for him, he can't wait to retire!). Dr. Lipsky and Ms. Go become villains at the end, becoming Dr. Drakken and Shego, the new villainous couple looking to rule the world and taking the place of Senor Senior Sr. and Senor Senior Jr.

Alternative to the last where it's all the same but they don't become villains. Maybe they try for a bit and after having their fun, they settle down to have a family. I dunno!

Now, is there more to come? YES! MAYBE! We'll see how I am feeling. Why did I do it this way and not write something properly? Because I don't like writing or plotting multi-chapter fanfic. I really wanted to make something that I could write for in this very casual way, and, if anyone else wanted to write or draw for this, that it would be possible.

Teacher AU is such a strong concept for the characters as they are, I wanted to really have it be true to them, as we see and know them in the show. I didn't want huge differences in their backstories, interests, mannerisms or relationships with other characters, because all those things inform who they are. I love that Drakken is a scatter-brained, easily-offended, easily distracted grouch and that Shego is such an annoying, snarky woman, a staunch grammarian and runner-up for professional slacker (Ron takes the number one spot). I wanted to challenge myself with this and I hope that I have been successful with it, at least initially.

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [47]

chapter forty-seven, act six: be my mistake

masterlist

August 29th, 2016

The bruise on her cheek can’t be hidden, the outline of her father’s hand a constant reminder of the weight she bears on her shoulders. Luckily the guys aren’t here and the meal they were supposed to be having was pushed back. Gabby had helped her with that. Telling them all that she was ill and wanted to be left alone.

That’s why Tommie is confused when she hears the familiar coded knock that Matty had made up and forced everyone to do before they entered the flat. Keys jingle in the door and it opens to allow light in from the hallway.

“Tommie?”

She purses her lips and sinks lower into the sofa, part of her hopes he’ll leave, that he’ll think she’s not sure. But then his steps get closer and begin to round the kitchen counter. She closes her eyes, makes sure her cheek is pushed into her arm curled around a pillow and waits.

“Tom?”

The sofa dips as Adam lowers himself onto it, “Tommie. Wake up, come on.”

“Go away.”

“Gabby said you weren’t feeling well. You alright?”

“Fine.”

“I know where you went, you know.”

She slowly peels one eye open to look up at him, “You do?”

“You made the mistake of telling the worst secret keeper in the world where you were going.”

She groans and shoves her face into the pillow, he can faintly hear a ‘bloody nan’ from the muffled cushion. 

“How did it go?” She remains with her face shoved into the pillow and suddenly Adam is fifteen years old again, catching the train to Wales after his ten year old cousin has called screaming and crying for him to save her. He remembers that day in so much detail. The way she couldn’t breathe over the phone, the whispered breaths so her father who was passed out in the other room couldn’t hear her. Her grandparents and mother had been away for a family wedding that said no kids. She was alone, with no one.

“Tommie?”

She finally gives in and turns her face, he winces the moment he sees the purple mark. “Oh, Tommie.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, okay?”

Adam places his hand on her shoulder, rubbing up and down her arm. He can see the tears welling up in her eyes.

“To-”

“Why can’t he just love me?”

The moment the first tear falls a whole wave follows and she’s a sobbing mess as she clutches onto his hand. He drops to his knee in front of the sofa, hand cupping her face to wipe away her tears. “He loves JJ, and Juliet, why can’t he love me? I-I stalked his wife, he’s such a good dad to them. Why couldn’t he be that for me? Do you know how many of my footy matches he missed? Do you know how many school plays he promised to be at and never showed up? How many parents' evenings he missed? How many birthdays, christmases… He’s been at every single one for that little brat.”

“Who gives a shit?” Adam says and her cries stop, knocked out of her from her shock at this new side of him. “Look at yourself, Tommie. You are an amazing woman, with people who care about you and turn up for you, you don;t need to worry about daddy deadbeat. I bet his life is miserable, I bet his wife hates him and he’ll give up eventually because he’s too lazy to break the cycle, he always has been. You know this.”

He helps her to sit up and wraps his arms around her, “You’re not alone, Tommie. I’m here.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

July 9th, 2017

She freezes, hand hovering over the zip for her bag as she meets George’s eyes. “What are you doing?”

He looks around, all her stuff has been packed up from the bus, Button sits patiently by the door with her favourite toy in her mouth. “Tommie?”

She just shakes her head slowly and glances behind him, “It’s just me. What happened?”

“I can’t, George. I can’t do it anymore. Matty’s going to die, and I can’t- I won’t…. No.”

She tries to swallow the lump in her throat but it causes her to choke instead. George is at her side as she descends into a fit of coughs. He rubs her pack helping her to sit on the bed. “I-I-I won’t have him die in my arms. I won’t be the one to find him, George. I can’t.”

He pulls her into his chest as she sobs, her hands curled into fists around his shirt as her tears soak the collar. “Shhh, shhh, Matty is- he’s gonna be alright.”

“No. He’s gonna kill himself, George.”

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll hold him down if I have to.”

“I’m going, George. I’m going home. I’m leaving the band.”

“You can’t- we need you, Tom.”

She shakes her head, “You don’t.”

“Of course we do. You’re Tommie, our Tommie, the band isn’t the 1975 without Tommie McDuff.”

She purses her lips and sniffles, “Please don’t make this harder for me.”

He looks at his shoes, still holding her tightly to his side, one hand brushing through her hair, “I’m sorry,” He mutters quietly, “I’ll fix this.”

“It isn’t your job to fix him. Don’t put that weight on your shoulders.”

He shakes his head and plants a kiss on her hairline, “I’ll fix him up, I’ll make him better, then you can come back, and we can go back to normal.”

“There’s no normality after this, G.”

She pulls herself from him slowly and clears her throat as she rises to stand and grips her bag. 

He watches her glance around as she heads for the door, he stands, hand catching her arm just before she enters the front end of the bus. “Just remember that you’re not alone, Tommie. I’m here.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

August 5th 2017

Phoebe left not too long ago to head to the studio. Max and Button have been sleeping for the past hour and Tommie’s been drawing her sorrows in ben and jerrys. 

There’s a knock on the apartment door and she raises her head to look at it, but then they knock again, and again, and then again. With a huff she abandons the ice cream and heads for the door.

Pushing herself up onto her tiptoes she stares through the peephole at a familiar brunette. “Ross?”

He grins as she swings open the door, holding up two plastic bags and shaking them around. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Phoebe told me you were ill.”

She nods, “Yeah, something like that.”

“What’s wrong?” He sets the bags on the counter taking out the stuff inside. He seems like he’s bought an entire seven-eleven. There’s two boxes of dr pepper, crisps in every single flavour, two tubs of ice cream, many different bars of chocolate and those cookies she tried once in New York and fell in love with.

She chews on her bottom lip and watches him carefully, “Tom?” He glances over at her when she’s quiet. He knows her, knows what her silence means and the hesitation in her eyes. 

She nods her head towards the living room and he abandons his food to follow after her. Button perks up as he passes and trots over for attention, Ross allows her to have it for a moment and the moment he stops to give his full attention to Tommie the dog goes back to sleeping.

“Caleb and I broke up.”

“Fina-” He cuts himself off with a forceful cough, “Oh no, are you okay? What happened?”

His fake voice gets a laugh from her and she shakes her head, “He got me… pregnant.”

“Oh… oh.” His eyes glance towards her stomach and she smacks his arm. “What is it?”

She almost straight out says dead. But refrains and lifts her shoulders to sit a little taller.

“I got an abortion. That’s why I’m ‘ill’.”

“Are you okay?”

She nods and fiddles with the sleeve of her jumper. “Guess so. I mean, I didn’t really want it, so I guess I’m not that upset.” She looks across to Button, “Besides, I got my handful with that child.”

Ross almost makes a joke about Matty being her child too. Almost. But he catches himself in the last second. “But, are you okay now?”

She nods, “I’m good, I’m really good. I’m actually kind of happy. Happier than I have been in a while.”

Ross smiles at that, his big tooth golden retriever smile she loves so much, “That’s good.”

She nods, “Just a little lonely I guess? You know. I’m so used to having you guys around, now it’s just me and Pheebs, and these guys.”

“You don’t have to miss us, Tom. We’re all a call away, you know we’d drop anything for you, right?”

She nods and accepts his embrace falling into his chest. “I just got so used to being with you all every day, I mean we’ve barely been apart for five years.”

He agrees, “It is kinda weird not having you with us, on tour. Matty’s moodier than usual, George won’t talk to him unless it’s to yell at him and Adam is just… he’s grumpy.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shushes her and shakes his head as he holds her tighter, “Don’t apologise for putting yourself first, it’s about time. I’m glad you’re happy. It makes me happy knowing you’re happy.”

She moves herself to kiss his cheek and thanks him quietly as she closes her eyes.

“You don’t have to be lonely. You’re not alone, Tommie. I’m here.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro, @beatr2x, @byyourside28, @plantinghobbies, @sinarainbows

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[shoshiwrites]

The lovely @mercurygray is running Blind Dates again this year — now with a blog @blind-dates-fest! — and I wanted to make it four for four!

My sincerest apologies to Esther Bubley, whose photo stories for the Office of War Information I borrowed for this piece (and header), more specifically the six-week bus trip she took in 1943 to document the country's travels during wartime.

Her photos are amazing and can be found in multiple books on the Internet Archive and on the Library of Congress website. Her OWI peers included Jack Delano, Marion Post Wolcott, Gordon Parks, and John Vachon, and I should probably put together a second post instead of taking up all the space in this one!

Without further ado, meet Paulette!

so many miles and so long since i've met you

It’s 5:00 AM, and she’s hungry. 

She’d gone for a boxed lunch at the last station, scarfing it down at a corner bench with her camera on her lap, her jacket flung over it for protection. The taste of salmon salad lingers in her mouth, her fingertips still smelling of orange peel even though she’d waited in line to reach the ladies’ room, politely elbowed her way between fellow passengers reapplying lipstick and dabbing their makeup to scrub her hands clean at the small sink.

I could go for a Coca-Cola right about now. 

If nothing else, it would keep her awake to keep shooting, capture the people waiting who look as tired as she feels, as tired as she knows she looks by now. She’d gotten some good pictures at the machine shop back in Indianapolis, the garage where the mechanics worked and the drivers wrote out trip reports. 

Maybe she’s predisposed, her comfort in these places. Her papa’s a mechanic too; she knows the chambray shirts with their pockets, stained with oil and stuffed with pens, wrenches hanging on the wall, the smell of new tires and grease.

She tries not to yawn, and fails, into the back of her wrist. Sleep finds a way here — she sees it in heavy shoulders, click, the flyaway curls, click, the man walking through with a stack of used pillows off an incoming bus, click. The children dozing on their father’s arm, little brown shoes barely touching the floor, the stuffed bunny in the little one’s arms. Click, click, click. The woman behind her has taken up a whole bench, her pumps kicked off besides. Click. Her camera is small, comparatively, and even still, they all sleep so soundly that the noise doesn’t wake a single person. 

Good shots of the garage in Indianapolis, and better ones of the women who washed the bus windows, the baggage clerks hustling with their caps and cigarettes. They let her roam, with the permissions she’s got, all stamped and tucked in her bag. Behind the driver’s seat, the front, the middle, the back. Her bus out of D. C. was segregated; it depends which bus, which city. Everyone looks at her funny until they forget she’s there.

Paulette has plans for a short stay in the next city, photographing a driver and his family. A real bed and supper at a table, marking the halfway point of this East-Coast-Midwest criss-cross. She thinks of sending a few postcards home — there’s hardly time, but Maman always likes to hear from her, and Paulette knows she’ll catch hell if Charlie and Dot don’t have anything to tape up. 

Is it better to send the same postcard, or different ones, she wonders. Sometimes the twins like to match, and sometimes there’s nothing worse. Just as long as she calls Charlie Charles — makes him feel like a grownup, like Pa’s official correspondence, and her sister Dot or Sis. Marie-Dorothée makes her sound like their grandmother, Dot says. Paulette, ten years older, out of sight and on the road with her knowing smile, does as she’s told.

“Miss?”

Her eyes fly open to the asker, the soldier in front of her as tired as the rest. It pulls at his frame, still upright with the force of hard training. His voice is a little hoarse, that sleepiness, like it’s not a question. “Mind if I sit here?”

Here is the space between her and the end of the carved bench, not much. But here, it’s all at a premium. She nods.

He slumps in next to her, his bag on his lap, and they touch at too many points to count, warm hip warm thigh warm calf. He’s close enough that she can see freckles under the artificial light. If she got up, she could make a photo. Give him some space. 

She feels like she’s missed her chance, the part where she introduces herself and asks for permission. There’s no one here to distract him, no friends or pretty girls to let her fade into the background. Something tells her to get up and walk around. Her bus will be here in an hour anyway, it’d do her good to get the blood in her legs moving. And there’s no such thing as enough pictures, of course. She taps her finger against the flattened lever on the side of her camera. 

“Neat gadget,” says the soldier. 

Paulette’s had the Rolleiflex just under a year, and she’s just now getting less jumpy about it. Photographers have to get used to expensive pieces of equipment. Mr. Linehan back at the office had no patience for it, squeamishness. Trust yourself, a colleague told her. George Gordon, always wore an old leather jacket and signed his letters G. G. He’s somewhere in Maryland now, or Massachusetts.

She’d saved and saved. Gotten a good deal, too. Did some free photos in exchange for the balance. Probably put the corner store out of business from all the Mounds bars she didn’t buy. She’d kill for one of those now, too. 

“Thank you,” she says, even though that’s not the thing to say. 

“My sister’s got one of those little Brownie cameras.”

“Has she? I’ve still got mine at home.”

“Where’s that?”

Maybe she has to give him credit for that. Don’t I ask the questions, she wants to say. “Cincinnati.” There’s a small bruise at his jaw, and maybe she wouldn’t even call it that, it’s still reddish-pink. Training accident, she guesses. “Where are you headed, soldier?”

“Ain’t that confidential?” He smiles, and she can see the slight overlap of one of his front teeth. Boyish. That’s the word. She doesn’t quite feel girlish, here in her tired slacks and her curls that haven’t seen a bottle of hairspray in weeks. “South. Georgia.” Paulette nods. “You?”

“Far as the next bus takes me.”

“Taking pictures?”

“Taking pictures.” Where d’you wish you were headed? she wants to ask. Maybe that’s too much. Maybe that’s something she doesn’t allow herself here, doesn’t want to, usually. Doesn’t have the time. You don’t fill a portfolio getting distracted. You don’t get taken seriously, either.

She doesn’t know him, anyhow. 

“You take a lot?”

“Too many.” Her finger hurts from it. She lets the air out of her nose, something like a smile. “On my last frame, actually. On this roll.” She know she’d better load the next one before the bus rolls up. “You wanna see how I change ‘em?”

He’s twisted in his seat already to talk to her. Nods, watches her hands fiddle with the body, pull the film taut. She’s suddenly self-conscious, but he stays silent. His head is bowed, the scent of his hair and his sweat and the remnants of aftershave in her nose. He points a finger, slowly following her movements, her steps. The scent of orange. His lunch, or hers?

“Gotta take one now, dontcha?” he says quietly, that little bit of brassy shine to his voice.

She smiles. “Would you oblige the lady?” The words run together, in her accent, in her tiredness.

Paulette can’t think about where he’s headed. His easy calm, the flecks in his eyes. The little twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Thought you’d never ask.”

She does get up, gets him turning in profile, thumb curving at his bottom lip as he looks off. The light glints off his boots. A little posed, for her usual. And it never feels like this, like a photo might be just for her. She takes two, just in case. She doesn’t pull out her notebook. 

“S’pose my mother wants a copy-” he starts.

Silly. “Oh, of course!” The notebook, the tiny pencil. He writes down the address. Kokomo. Not so far from Cincinnati. “And- and your name?”

“Floyd. Floyd Talbert.” Does she stick out her hand? He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, before she can say anything. “S’pose I ask if- if I can write you?” 

It’s not the first time. She’s lost count, actually. She’s never given it, the road forgiving her with warning bells and train whistles, timetables. There are freckles on the bridge of his nose. 

She tears a scrap of paper off the metal rings. Paulette Schafer. Her home address. Her mother hosts servicemen for Sunday dinner, shoos them out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon. “You can call me Pauli.”

“I hope so.” He smiles. “When’s your bus?”

Her watch — the thing she hasn’t looked at for the last hour — tells her twenty minutes. “Soon. I’m headed west.”

“Cryin’ shame.”

“You know, I can’t spend all my film on you.”

He leans back against the wall. “You’d like to though, huh?”

Floyd Talbert, how many times has a girl wanted to keep a photo of you in her pocket? “You’re a compelling subject.”

He smirks, and something in her stomach flutters. 

“You say that to all the handsome soldiers.”

“‘Course.”

She’d better head out now if she wants to get some good quotes out of the driver, a few shots of the baggage clerks, if she doesn’t want to get stuck in the jump seat if it’s a full house. 

“It’s been a pleasure, Floyd,” she says, and sticks out her hand.

A voice intones over the PA, 6:00 AM to Kansas City- “All mine, Pauli Schafer.” A beat passes, and he’s looking at her with an expression she can’t name. “Can I walk you out?”

She knows he’ll let her do what she needs to, stay quiet by her side. 6:00 AM to Kansas City- She wishes they had time for a cup of coffee. She’ll take a moment though, get one more picture of him walking out in the morning light. “You may.” 

[readingadream]

BE THE LIGHT

Chapter One

Word count 1,620

1 | 2 | 3

Wooyoung POV

What would you do if a random person came to you and asked to trust him? Saying that he would be the reason the world would change. Would you trust him? Would you think he was bat shit crazy like me? 

Wednesday night, there was a full moon and a chilly breeze that made leaves fall so beautifully to the ground. Though like the story's told by our parents, the most intresging people came out that night. I should have stayed home, but of course my friends always loved to go out.

“Yah! Woo, hurry the hell up.” Shouted by my friend who was almost as short as I was, light brown hair that had just barely covered his ears and of course not styled much since he had been partying most of the night. I rolled my eyes and waved as our group of friends walked to the next bar. 

“Mm, Go ahead without me. I think Imma catch the bus home. It's late and I need to wake up early anyways.” I waved my friends on as I walked to the convent store, grabbing a thing of ramen, a hangover drink, and some chips. Perfect late night snack plus medicine to help me not feel like absolute death right before work in the morning. The store was oddly quiet tonight which was unusual for a Saturday. Saturdays usually were busy, many drunk young adults like myself grabbing snacks or buying more alcohol. Walking to the front to pay I noticed a younger male who had red hair trying to do homework. Remembering those days I’d felt a little bad for the boy. 

After paying I grabbed my bag and quickly ran to the bus stop that was just about a block from where I’d been. Hopefully my luck would work tonight and not miss the last bus back home. Though when has luck ever been on my side? Never. I watched it drive past me. Looking up at the sky I let out an annoyed yell. “Fuck!” 

I was about to turn and call a taxi when a shorter male approached me, his hair was the color of dark chocolate, and his skin pale like someone who seemed to avoid being outside during the day, and lastly his eyes were dark brown as well but almost black. Though it was hard to see them clearly in the darkness that surrounded them due to the lack of streetlights where they currently were. Who'd have thought a bus stop in the middle of the city would be poorly lit?

“Apologies, I didn't mean to scare you. I know I'm a nobody but would you trust me? Help me out and I can promise you glory.” The stranger's voice was a slightly higher tone to an otherwise velvety smooth lilt, the kind of sound that the perfect melodie wrapped up in a song; a lullaby.

Tell me why I wanted to say yes? Why would someone like me decide to agree to help with something that my dumbass didn't know anything about. Shivering from the cold breeze I let out a breathy laugh as I looked at him. This male had a surrounding feeling of confidence and yet felt so mysterious as well.

“Who is stupid enough to say yes? Me apparently because I'm curious, also because your friend who has been standing behind you closely seems like he can trust you.”

I looked at the male behind him, white hair that looked like snow, was close to shoulder length, and the look he gave was one of seriousness. The male who  spoke let out a faint laugh, waving off the one who stood behind.

“Seonghwa is very close to me, he's our most precious member. Ah, I'm Hongjoong by the way.” Holding his hand out for me to shake. His hand was cold, silver rings on most of finger as well as a few bracelets on his wrist. Was it wrong to mention the fact his hands were smaller then mine? Though this man whose name was Hongjoong was also shorter than me so it made some sense in a way. 

“Wooyoung.” Giving the stranger my name so easily, probably not wise and used a fake name but we only lived once right? What could be worse than a stranger leading me to my possible death.

Seonghwa looked at me, like he was questioning why I'd agree so easily, who could blame him though? because I still was unsure. I used him as an excuse to be completely honest. Moving he points to the black BMW that had been pulling up and parking next to us.

“Our ride is here, you will stay with us from now on. You can gather your stuff tomorrow though Woo, right now it's late and you've seemed to have a long night.” Seonghwa spoke for the first time, voice sounded like thunder in the distance yet also a lullaby that if he sang a gentle song would make all worries go away.

Nodding my head I took a step towards the vehicle, “Promise you won't be killing me?” 

“I promise doll, you are safe with us.” Hongjoong gently patted my shoulder as he walked to get into the front passenger seat.

Stepping into the back with Seonghwa, I noticed the driver. He looked around my age, tired, and his eyes dull like there was no life left in them. I noticed his hair was the color of a faded pink or maybe orange? It was hard to tell in the little light that was provided due to the door being open momentarily. Though, maybe that's because of how late it was and the male was tired.

“This is Yunho, our sunshine most days. I swear he isn't as gloomy as he looks, we just haven't gotten much sleep lately and it takes a toll on us.” Listening to Hongjoong explain who the driver was, I noticed a small smile appear from Yunho. 

“That's because you made me wake up at 2am the other night because of your wild idea. Anyways, it's nice to meet you newbie.”

Newbie? He knew? Of course he did you idiot. “It's Wooyoung.” Letting out a soft yawn I just relaxed in the back seat. The leather seats seemed to be heated which warmed my cold bodie but also made it incredibly hard to stay awake much longer. Looking out the window as we drove, watching as city lights passed by quickly and things became a blur as I fell asleep curled up in my seat and just enjoying the warmth while it lasted.

Feeling someone shake me is what had finally woken me up, I usually slept hard and long so without thinking I shove them off. “Fuck off.” Mumbling and turning slightly. 

That's when I remembered that I wasn't home, it wasn't Changbin waking my lazy ass awake. I shot up and met eyes with Seonghwa. He didn't look bothered by my actions.

“Well you clearly will get along with Sannie, he loves his sleep and once punched our captain in the face for trying to wake him.” He points to a warehouse, it was definitely worn down but also if someone looked closer they would see that the building had been worked on. Looking over to where he was pointing I noticed a few boys outside playing basketball. “Welcome to our little utopia, it isn't fancy but we all have adjusted. You will too in a matter of time.”

When the car parked I noticed a boy with red hair running over holding a basketball. “Hyung! Did you guys get the snacks? Please tell me you got more banana milk because San hyung drank the last one that I was saving.” He pouted and it was cute, like a little bear pouting.

“Wooyoung, this is our youngest member. Jongho, this is our new member. I want you and San if he's awake to get him all taken care of.” Hongjoong spoke as he got out of the vehicle. “Yes we got snacks and more milk, Hwa wanted strawberry milk anyways so he bought a few packs of both.” 

San must have known he'd been spoken of, walking out to help with the groceries he took notice of the new male. Looking him up and down before shrugging.  

“San, this is Wooyoung. I want you and Jongho to get him set up, we will get his stuff tomorrow after we've gotten some well deserved sleep.” All San did was nod. Handing me a few bags before walking towards the building.

Following inside I had noticed the couches in the middle of the building, a few desks around it and then another couch off to the side by the door. The warehouse was old for sure, and looked like they'd made the place for all 7 that there was. Well now 8. 

Ladders led up to a second floor, everything seemed new like they had built the second floor themselves, so it was safe for them to walk on. Lastly, he saw the makeshift kitchen. Everything they would possibly need was there. A microwave, stove and oven, dish washer, a coffee pot, and just basic items you'd generally see in someone's kitchen. San points at the groceries “I'll put these away, so just set them on the table for now.” Of course, I just nodded my head, setting them down. Yawning for what seemed like the millionth time in the last 10 minutes. I walked around as the others all came in, talking about who knows what. He'd tuned them out for a moment as he realized things were about to be a lot different from now on.

[gachaclubideas]

Hey guys, my exams are finally over! And I got some ideas from this video

@tsutsujinothere

@flamy-t

@screwzara

@lunarthefrieschild

@boiling-potato

@urlocalgworllol

@thebruhb0i

***

Gacha Tumblrs in a house fire

random person: You have to jump!

Zara: Oh no! I am not jumping

random person: But you'll die

Zara: Well I guess I gonna *got pushed* dii-

Boiling Potato: Why did the house had to catch on fire like I don't feel like doing this today. Can I just go back to sleep?

Talissa: I have a question

random person: Yeah?

Talissa: It is consider murder if I chose not to wake the other people inside the house?

random person: Are you saying that there people inside the house!?

Talissa: Um yeah

random person: Why you didn't wake them up!?

Talissa: I don't like them

Lunar: Which one of y'all set the kitchen on fire? Because I want my strawberry flavor pop tart but I can't have it because our microwave is on fire!

Flamy: Hey, can I get everyone to smiles real quick? Yeah you miss the firefighters, can you smile?

random person: Um sure?

Flamy: Oh my goodness, this is totally going on my Instagram

Tubbo: Oh my goodness! Someone set (the person they hate)'s house on fire!

random person: Do you know who did it?

Tubbo: I don't know, I mean definitely wasn't me… hehe…

***

Gacha Tumblrs working at a Walmart

Tsutsuji: Oh my goodness! Is everyone okay?

random person: Yeah I was trying to park the car

Tsutsuji: Does this look like a parking space to you?

random person: I guess not

Tsutsuji: Oh my goodness, can we get a clean-up on aisle 4? Can you try back the car out or something?

random person: No it stuck

Tsutsuji: I don't get paid enough for this 😭

Millie: Um why are you wearing a wedding dress in the middle of Walmart?

the bride: We want to get marry here because it's so romantic

Millie: Oh trust me, Walmart is not romantic. Now you and your little fiance can go try Target if y'all want

Zara: So I told Flamy "Do not talk about me cause I know what you did."

Walmart employee: Hey! Stop gossiping with the customers and get back to work!

Zara: Fine. Look *in whisper* call me later

Flamy: And that my presentation on why I should be the manager at our Walmart

Walmart employee: How long have you working here?

Flamy: Two days :)

Walmart employee: Don't you think that not enough time?

Flamy: Um it's a Walmart

Walmart employee: Oh yeah you right

Talissa: B**ch one of y'all set clothing section on fire. I mean I know our clothes are terrible but y'all didn't have to go set it on fire

Lunar: Your debit card got declined. Do you have another form of payment?

random person: No that's my only form of payment

Lunar: Well you gonna have to return those groceries and maybe try dollar general

random person: But -but…but BUT

Lunar: Nope, no no no no no. If you have a complaint go to customer service, not me

***

Gacha Tumblrs in a murder mystery

Millie: Y'all this mansion is so nice like this party is about be so g- *heard gun shot* Was that a gun shot!? Nope, someone start the car because I am not doing this tonight

Flamy or Lunar: Y'all there's a dead body on the floor

random person: Did you killed them?

Flamy or Lunar: Nope I did not killed them!

random person: Then who did?

Flamy or Lunar: What do you want me to do? Ask them? Oh wait they DEAD

Zara: Wait someone die!?

random person: Yeah, we don't know who killed them

Zara: We should spilt up and search for clues

random person: This is not Scooby-Doo

Zara: Um don't disrespect Scooby-Doo. Scooby-Doo always figure out who what was

Boiling Potato: Did they die in the kitchen?

random person: No

Boiling Potato: Okay, so I'll be in there

random person: You don't want to help figure out who it is?

Boiling Potato: No, y'all look like y'all got it. I just let y'all do it. Just tell me when you find out

Tsutsuji: Oh my goodness y'all, the door is open. Do you know what that means?

random person: Someone open it

Tsutsuji: The murder open it

random person: We don't know that

Tsutsuji: Well yeah but like-, y'all I have not investigation, what do y'all want from me?

Talissa or Tubbo: They're fools, all of them. So they in there while figure the murder is, it's me by the way. I just swimming in this pool mkay

***

[doseofdillz]

You're Replaceable.

Raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimized by your boss. I’m currently raising my hand.

I’ve had some terrible bosses in my professional life and all three of them had something in common– they love to stretch a bitch out and put as much work on you as possible to get their money's worth out of that sad little salary they so graciously gave you.

My first toxic boss was a real wake up call. He was the president of a major modeling agency, about 5’2, gay, and was “sober” from a wild past life in the fashion industry of the 90’s. He loved making comments as he walked by in his sheer scarf and whatever flamboyant fedora he found laying around his home that morning to cover the balding that was consuming the top of his sun-kissed-shiny-little head. His favorite line to say to me was during lunchtime on his way to his office. “Wow, that’s a lot of food”. You could almost guarantee that he’d bring his frantic energy to every meeting and leave still not knowing what was going on.

When disputes broke out in the small workspace my co-workers and I shared, his remedy was bringing us all in for a “team meeting” then revealing that this was actually a meeting to discuss our issues with each other. I always thought it was his way of pretending to be Andy Cohen refereeing a Real Housewives reunion as a means to get some type of entertainment in his new sober life. Surprise! It never resolved anything, only made our tiny, shared-space more tense and awkward than we left it.

I silent quit after 6 months and remained employed for another 2.5 years babysitting models and going to fabulous parties only so I could sneak a few hor dourves because I could barely afford groceries. 

My next toxic boss came right after that. The universe was testing me, surely. She referred to herself as a “billionairess” and lived on her daddy’s estate. She walked on a crutch due to being thrown off a Zebra on her honeymoon that her parents paid for, of course. My office was the nursery her and her brother were raised in above the garage that held her father’s eccentric car collection and various pieces of fine art. 

She was an artist herself who graduated from Pepperdine in Malibu and got bored one day so she started her own talent agency. Not only did she expect me to represent all her semi-famous friends but she also expected me to represent her as a talent. Her most notable “claim to fame”? She installed art pieces for a very famous family whose last name started with a K. When I couldn’t book her on jobs (because no one cared who she was), she would pout like a 5 year old princess who got told “no” by daddy… as if that was supposed to make me say “you know what, let me call and see if they can change their mind just for YOU”. 

I loathed that woman. Hearing her complain made my jaw clench constantly– she had no clue what the real world consisted of and had no clue I was waking up at the ass crack of dawn to catch the bus to Beverly Hills and walk 40 minutes up her long winding canyon road only to walk for the longest 15 minutes of my life, up her gated, inclined, very chic driveway. I do miss walking past the lemon trees when they were blossoming. To this day, lemon blossoms are still my favorite smell. 2020 came like an answer to my prayers. She had to lay me off and I was finally at peace for the first time in my adult life for the next six months.

My peace came to a screeching halt as I realized this pandemic thing wasn’t going to last the rest of my life, unfortunately. I met my final toxic boss. She lived in Brooklyn, was a lesbian, scorpio, and had major coke rage. I’ve never had someone call, text, email, and slack more frequently and erratically as her. From 8a-11p she wouldn’t stop… she would take adderall in the morning, drink during the day, and cap her nights with lots of cocaine at some fabulous party her PR firm was running. On many occasions she would disappear for a few days at a time, reassuring us upon return that she had only been in jail for a domestic public dispute with her just-as-psycho girlfriend but that everything was “fine”.

The smallest things would set her off. Not adding certain punctuation throughout our meeting notes that was only shared internally. Not responding to her almost immediately after she blasted off texts, emails, and slacks and wondering why we couldn’t get all our day's work finished by 6p on the dot. Requesting time off. The list could go on and on, it really just depended on if she needed to use you as a punching bag that day or not. I never knew which version of her I’d get on the other end.

After 6 months of torture, I woke up one morning, saw her slew of messages awaiting my reply, closed my laptop, blocked her number, and never heard from or spoke to her again. I went back to school, switched careers and am now much happier with a less-cool job in tech. The entertainment industry had chewed me up and spat me out.

What I learned from these three traumatic experiences is that all we have in life is our time and if you’re miserable at the job you’re at every day you wake up, just fucking quit. You’re very replaceable…. And so are they.

[nevalizona]

Connor and Genevieve get ready for their day.

Pardon any errors.

The house was hectic. Genevieve was trying to get breakfast made, and the kids were trying to finish some last-minute projects. Connor tried to help out the best he could, but he was also looking over some paperwork he needed to have read for a meeting at work. Seemed like everyone was catching up on something. One of those mornings.

“Connie, CJ, and Auds! Breakfast! Genevieve called, serving eggs, bacon, and toast to each of the spots at the table. She didn’t have time to make a big breakfast this morning. She checked her watch, she needed to leave in roughly half an hour.

“This looks great, Gen. Thank you.” Connor said as he pressed a kiss against the side of her face. He pulled out a chair for his daughter to sit in and pushed her in.

“Sorry, it’s not more. I got to go soon.” Genevieve said quickly, pouring her son and daughter some milk to go along with their breakfast.

“Don’t apologize. This is plenty.” Connor shot her a smile and reached for his cup of coffee he had set there earlier in the morning. It had to be cold by now.

“Thanks, mom.” The kids said in unison. They both poked at their eggs.

“No problem. Were you two able to work more on your projects?” Genevieve asked as she took a seat and grabbed her toast, glancing at her watch again.

“Yeah.” CJ and Audrey respond at the same time whenever they can.

Genevieve smiled at them, her kids mean the entire world to her. There’s nothing she loves more on this planet than being a mom. If Connor had not been sent to Vietnam, she’s sure they would have ended up with a couple more.

“Connor, you know where to drop them off right? I know you’ve done it before bu-”

“I know where to drop them off. I know where to pick them up. I got this Genevieve. You don’t have to worry. We’ll leave twenty minutes after you. This isn’t the first time I’ve dropped them off.” Connor was cool, calm, and collected. He doesn’t stress about stuff often. Genevieve does more than enough, for both of them.

“I know this isn’t the first time, but I won’t be here at all. You’ll make sure they have everything?”

“Gen.”

“I know. I know. Remember you two, Daddy’s going to be the one picking you up today. Look for his car, not mine.” Genevieve reached over and set her hand on her son’s shoulder. They both nodded.

They always get nervous about being taken by Connor. They have gotten more used to him being home, but still, they have their reservations. They still don’t quite know him yet, and they certainly wouldn’t choose to be taken to school by him.

“They’re quiet this morning.” Connor smiled as he talked, trying to make sure they knew he wasn’t angry. He wants them to warm up to him.

“Somedays are like that. At least they were talking to you a bit this morning. That’s something, right, you two?” Genevieve tried to urge them to talk a bit more.

They both nodded their heads. Genevieve sighed and shrugged. She got up and glanced at her watch again.

“I better get going. I’ll see you three after work okay? Connor, I already made the lasagna, all you-”

“I know, put it in. It’s all set. I know, Gen.” He got up and wrapped his arms around her.

“Sorry, I just don’t want anything to go wrong for you.” Genevieve said sheepishly, her cheeks turning that rosy shade, she always gets.

“It won’t. Have a good day okay? You got this, Gen.” He said, pressing his lips against hers.

She kissed him back and nodded her head, setting her hand on his cheek, and running her thumb along his scarred cheek. She still can’t believe that he’s home. She missed him so much, sometimes she wakes up and she can weep just by seeing that he was in bed next to her. This is what she wanted for seven long years. She pressed a kiss against his scarred cheek, hoping she didn’t bother it when she ran her thumb across it.

“I love you, good luck with your meeting today, Connor!” She pulled out of his arms and went over to the kids and kissed them on the top of their heads.

“Thanks, Gen. I’ll tell you what I can when you get home. Love you too.” He said as he took a seat back at the table.

“Please do!” She grabbed her purse and was out of the kitchen in a moment's time.

“She’s really stressed out today. Was she like this often when I was away?” Connor asked, looking at the kids.

They shrugged.

“I’m going to read through some paperwork, if you guys need anything let me know.” Connor smiled at them and opened the folder that was in front of him. He grabbed a couple of papers and scanned them, trying to decide what exactly he was going to talk about at the meeting. There are a lot of options.

“What is your meeting about?” Audrey asked sheepishly.

Connor glanced up at her, eyes wide with surprise. He didn’t expect either of them to actually say anything. His heart felt warm, this is what he was hoping would happen for weeks now.

“A lot of it’s too hard for you to understand right now, but just information about a project I did a couple months back. My boss needs me to explain some stuff.” Connor explained.

“Are you in trouble?” She asked curiously.

“No. Just normal stuff. That’s what happens when you’re an adult. You have to explain things to your bosses and get feedback.” Connor explained, shrugging slightly.

The little girl nodded her head, picking up a piece of bacon and nibbling on it slowly.

Connor let them finish up eating and helped them get ready to go to school. The kids were opening up a little bit more and actually talking to him some. He was glad to finally feel like they were allowing him to be a part of their world. This is what he’s been hoping for. Baby steps. But they were heading in the right direction.