#i'm so incredibly frustrated. and tired of life. so tired. and i can't catch a break bc i'm a dumbass with a shitty brain ✨️

[daz4i]

help me. i can't sleep

[personasdestinyy]

Sorrowful Love | Ch#2 | JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; All he desires is vengeance.

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: thriller, angst, love at first sight, au! sexting

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x Sena oc!

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This story contains explicit language, graphic violence(murders, blood etc), and other mature content, If you are easily affected by such themes, it might be best to avoid reading it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.9k+

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭⇢

Sena's Pov:

The sound of my alarm clock rudely interrupts my peaceful slumber, signaling the start of another dreadful Monday. Reluctantly, I drag myself out of bed, my hair in disarray, and I force myself to sit up. With a groggy mind, my first instinct is to silence the annoying alarm. Once the noise is finally gone, I slip on my slippers and make my way to the bathroom.

As I approach the bathroom door, a sudden shadow catches my eye, sending a jolt of fear through my body. For a split second, I feel as if my soul is about to escape my trembling form. But soon enough, I realize that the shadow is none other than my own reflection.

"Fuck me," I curse myself, closing the door behind me with a frustrated kick.

After a refreshing shower, I stand in front of my wardrobe, towel wrapped around me, contemplating what to wear for the day. My fashion sense has always been lacking.

And I can't help but mutter under my breath, "I don't think I'm good at anything." After creating a chaotic mess, I settle on a white top, baggy blue jeans, and white joggers. Once dressed, I quickly brush my hair and apply some makeup.

With my morning routine complete, I head to the kitchen to prepare a simple breakfast of apple juice and a sandwich. As I leisurely eat, I grab my phone from the kitchen counter and my eyes widen as I glance at the time. Hastily finishing my meal, I grab my camera from the closet and my car keys from the bedroom drawer before rushing out of my apartment to make it to work on time.

My name is Sena, as all of you know, the slacker person in the whole world. I work as a photographer at Mg company.

Photography started as a mere hobby when I was 16, but it was my friend Mai who discovered my talent at the age of 18.

Unfortunately.

She couldn't keep it to herself and showed my photos to her father, who offered me a job at his company. I started working there at the age of 20, and it's been eight months since I've been working there.

And so, this is my life. Busy.

After a long and tiring day at work, I finally make it back to my apartment, feeling completely drained. I walk through the door and immediately place my camera and car key in their designated spots before making a beeline for the bathroom to freshen up.

Once I've changed into more comfortable clothes, I make my way to the bedroom and retrieve my phone from my bag. As I settle into the soft and inviting bed, a notification suddenly appears, causing my heart to skip a beat. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I quickly glance at the notification.

To my surprise, it's a message from my brother, someone I haven't heard from in ages. Without wasting a second, I swipe the notification away without even reading the contents of the message. My mind is too preoccupied with other thoughts to fully process what he might have said.

Leaving my phone on the bed, I head to the kitchen to quench my thirst with a glass of water. Taking a deep breath, I try to let go of all the emotions that have built up throughout the day, allowing the cool water to help calm my racing heartbeat. Once I feel more composed, I return to the bedroom, retrieve my phone from the nightstand, and settle back onto the comfortable bed.

As I mindlessly scroll through Instagram for past forty minutes, an art page catches my eye. Intrigued, I decide to read the artist's biography, which turns out to be incredibly fascinating. His work is centered around capturing the emotions of others, which instantly captivates me. Without hesitation, I jot down the contact number provided on Instagram and dial it.

After two rings, a sleepy voice answers the phone with a simple "hello."

Trying to sound composed.

"Um hi, I want to place an order-", I quickly state. However, before I can finish my sentence, the person on the other end abruptly ends the call, leaving me bewildered. I stare at my phone screen, unsure of what just happened. "Well, that was strange," I mutter to myself.

Five minutes later, my phone rings again, and I answer, fully prepared to confront the person about their odd behavior.

But he was quick to speak up,

"I am sorry, my friend posted my number on Instagram without my knowledge. When you called, I was asleep and confused, so I ended the call abruptly. I'm so sorry for my odd behavior."

Taking in his explanation, and understanding that it was an honest mistake, I didn't dwell on the inconvenience caused by the untimely call.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's alright." I reassured him.

"And I'll give you his number, but please reach out to him after a week," the man on the other end of the line informed me before we bid farewell and ended the call.

In just a minute, he sends me a number labeled 'Jungkook'. As I glance at it, my heart inexplicably quickens its pace. Uncertain of the reason behind this reaction, I attempt to dismiss the feeling and store his contact details.

Feeling overwhelmed, I decide to let go of all my feelings and simply focus on getting some rest. The weight of the world seems to lift off my shoulders as I release all my worries and anxieties into the universe. Placing my phone down on the table, I take a deep breath and allow myself to drift off into the world of dreams. The soft hum of the air coming from windows lulls me into a peaceful slumber.

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 (𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝)

[gengarcrystal]

something really shitty happened to me last night

bumped into a colleague last week at our annual bbq, someone who used to work in my department and retired at the end of last year. mutually agreed we should go for a drink sometime to catch up. normal stuff right?

but instead of being a normal outing like i expected, like i was led to believe would be the case, he had another motive because he spent the entire time coming onto me, behaving in deeply inappropriate ways.

making comments about my body and looks; in the car he kept making comments about how good i looked and the way he was looking at me made me uncomfortable. but i tried to be like, well it's very different to what i wear at work, shorts and a strappy top rather than jeans and a t-shirt (engineering production has ruined so many of my clothes that i do not bother past this). but these comments were repeated far too often and the looks were really pointed and obvious.

then when we're sat at the pub he tells me, totally disconnected from what we were talking about, that he's "always wanted to kiss me", i have "such kissable lips". he asked me for one and when i said no replied with "i'll have my kiss by the end of the night." like fuck no, you actually won't?????

then, he started telling me how his wife is sick, oh he'd never leave her because he's loyal and she gave him his kids, but he's got sexual appetite he needs to fulfil, he used to be so conflicted but now is waiting for a woman in the same boat so they can fulfil each other, "it's not about hurting anyone—". as if nobody would be deeply hurt by their partner cheating on them because they can't provide, because they're deeply sick.

and then he asked me what the most "exciting thing" i've ever done was. take your guesses what he wanted to hear.

as if it couldn't get any worse; at some time earlier on, before it got so bad, i was talking about an area where i live that has a nice view and that at sometime i want to go there to view the sunset. he suggested we go there after. i didn’t really agree to it, kinda half-hearted my reply and made a remark about how it will be a nice time of night. by the time we left, i was so incredibly uncomfortable that i wanted nothing more than out of there and specifically asked him to take me straight home, saying i was tired and felt a bit unwell.

but he drove to that spot. he still drove there, and he did so with the intent of us getting out the car. "i hope there's a parking spot," he said, as he turned into the road. i've never been so mortified in my life. so embarrassed, so uncomfortable. and then as there's no parking space so we turn around and leave, thank god, he's telling me how he "knows all these spots because i used to come here with girlfriends."

and he asked for a kiss again before i got out the car. AGAIN. despite my clear, visible discomfort by that point.

the thing is, this man is older than my dad. he is five years older than my own dad. i am half his age. i have excellent relationships with many of my colleagues, almost all of whom are older than me, and there's no issue with me going out with people older than me in that way—there are people i go out with frequently, who value me in their lives as i do them in mine. people who treat me like family. there should have been no issue going out with this person.

i feel so violated by what happened. dirty. betrayed, frustrated, upset. i thought he wanted to see me to actually invest time, to catch up as people on the same level. i was not expecting this to happen. and it actually makes me feel sick to remember everything that happened and was said to me. i didn't feel threatened at any time but i'm left with this deep-seated discomfort, this feeling of being treated like an object rather than a person, and i feel so much worse about it today than i did after it happened because now all the rage has dissipated i just feel so fucking uncomfortable and upset. even though i bumped into other people afterwards and that helped at the time, today everything's melted away to leave me feeling so hideously uncomfortable.

no, not every man is problematic, but every woman has had an experience like this that puts her on edge for life, makes her feel she has to be on her guard all the time around men. there is a reason i find it impossible to even think of being in a relationship with someone i'm not friends with first, someone i have an understanding of and feel safe with.

and yet, in some cases even then i don't truly know someone, because this person is the last person i would have expected to do this to me. i feel hideous. i never want to see him again.

[k1ssable-k1nks]

I'm walking into the kitchen and starting to make dinner as you're told to by your boyfriend, it's not so much misogynistic as much as you loving to serve him. It's not because he's a male, it's not because he's a guy, it's not because it's your role as a submissive girlfriend, it's because you love him. And he is incredibly attractive to you. It's not about his muscles, it's not about his body, it's not about those fingers wrapped around your thighs in the car, or those fingers wrapped around your throat in bed, it's because you love him as a person, and that makes him way hotter to you. Any random guy can't just walk into your life and pin you down and make you soaking wet like he can. He can come home from work tired and frustrated and pin you against the wall until you he needs your pussy, and instantly you're getting wet for him. You're such a good girl, and you're not sure if it's because of the training or because of hypnosis, or because of Tumblr or what but instantly, your knees are buckling because it feels so good when he takes control like that. Him taking control is so good and feels so nice.

You are starting to make dinner because you love him. Because he's the best. Because he gets you like no one else. And then he's walking up behind you and sliding his hands over your hips, making your breath catch in your throat. Making you gasp when he slides a hand between your legs and palms your crotch. When his hand massages over your damp panties. And then slides up underneath your cute top and around one of your breasts squeezing it gently. Followed by his thumb and forefinger squeezing your nipple making you gasp once again, followed by a tiny little mewing noise. And his other hand is sliding over your arm, sliding of your hand, he's so fucking big, he's so much bigger than you, and you feel so weak and helpless in his arms, it feels so good. So good to submit. You're literally melting into him, and if he wasn't holding you up against his body tightly with his Palm wrapped around your breast, you would probably fall to your knees right now, while his other hand is brushing of yours. And he's whispering into your ear what a good girl you are. And how you can trust him, and you nod your head. You know you're safe with him. You know you're safe and he's protecting you, he's so strong, so powerful, and suddenly your breath hitches, your whole body tensing up, your heartbeat speeding up like nothing else, and your pussy is clenching, with that knife against your throat. That cold steel, right against your soft delicate skin. You're trying not to breathe, but you can feel that sharp blade right against your throat, holy fuck. How did. How did he get the knife from your hands, you don't even need to look down to know that your hands are no longer holding the knife you were cutting the vegetables with, only moments ago

The way I greedily almost want to keep these in my inbox so I never lose them 😭

[part 1]

[part 2]

[mylawcitrus]

My actual job

I'm an English teacher, in case you didn't know. It's hard to "restart" on the internet, because usually I suppose the haters who brought you down (I've lost accounts, I've deleted accounts, and a bunch of people left me because of whatever reason) keep making sure you're still at the bottom, unless they're too tired and there's another person they wanna bother.

I wish that didn't sound controversial. I don't "bother" anyone, I put some kind of blind trust which we should all have second thoughts on to meet people with what I could say are mutual interests, but I have mistakes along the way, like criiticizing sex workers for spam. Those people are marginalized as fuck and trying to make a basic living. While I don't sell, I've had an OnlyFans account and the thing that happened with Pornhub, honestly, I don't understand until this day. It's just a website I visit once a week, maybe. Like, it's totally not what people seem to think, but who knows, with marketing these days.

About Omegle, I should pass the fucking baton to somebody else who understands shit about algorithms and moderation, because I just have a few stories of incredible people I met there and I happen to keep them in my mind. The way I've talked about it and maybe the way I've acted probably makes it sound like I see the website as a definitive instant camfuck thing. You're gonna find people who lean into that, but my history with it is a lot more than whatever I did in a given day or so, I've been visiting, on and off obviously, for 13 years. And apparently people don't realize that, or maybe they do, but that only makes me confused as fuck and I just want my safe space on social media and in life, please. Women who I've been with know the many sides of me and if they saw me laying in bed looking for online sex on Omegle they'd probably be like "dude, Tinder exists". I've heard precisely that from one of my exes. But I don't like Tinder.

And I'd like people to know that whoever uses your image for purposes that damage your honor and reputation are breaking the law. I've written about this. It seems that younger people started an "exposing culture" but forgot to be decent human beings. Maybe it's because we're not interested in their daily lives and we don't see that, and then they catch us doing stupid shit and wanna talk about it all day. There's different moments... I'm seeing such a lack of understanding around this topic! I was thinking that the webcam was somehing norrmal, now I'm supposed to think about whatever's happening on freaking Snapchat and I have days where I just wanna be left alone and have a good night of sleep, but wake up the next day and have something to look forward to, and if you can't understand that for many years that was talking to a special person on a video call, then I'm sorry, but I'll just go as far as saying: "we're different". But I sure hope there's an effort to understand my side, especially when frustration mounts and some stories and untold or badly told (very common).

The rest? I have tons of stuff I've published, I might not have a great idea to share every day but I'm a fucking human being, not generative AI. And precisely on that, they've inserted bias on the way that stuff is classified on the web and nobody's asking me how it all started, how I deal with stuff, whether or not I'm fucking okay, you know? And that shit sucks. So honestly, I hope people wake up to the fact that we have good and bad days, and if you're like a teenager who wants to do something you mom and dad wouldn't like you to do, I'm not saying don't listen to them. Its important to have guidance. But in my life I've done sstuff differently and I'm the one who deals with shit that I've set my mind on 20 years ago, and all I can say is I'm sorry if I've never compared the scale of things but today it's all very fast and this post may mean absolutely nothing, though it comes from a hard reality of being vulnerable as fuck and having to deal with intense scrutiny everywhere, for absolutely no reward, though I'm perfectly aware I shouldn't have a Nobel or anything, but like I said on Instagram, a little pat on the back would be pretty nice.

Thanks and if you're hanging on Live I'll say hi, but you can get to know me better if you want by exploring some of the stuff I've published or asking me about my music, my poetry, following me out of commaraderie or just sending good vibes, I'm not asking anyone to open their wallets but I have a Bandcamp, a Patreon and a Substack, so if you think this matters, the channel IS open.

Thanks again.

[wtfuggg]

1st?

Writing this for myself. I think. I don't really know what I'm doing starting this; probably the same reason that I've bought 6 journals from Whitcoulls and not once have I made it past 4 entries. I think I love the idea of having my thoughts in one place so I can reflect back and see what I thought at a specific time. Such a shame my memory stretches back to max last weekend.

Like, my memory now is horrifically bad. I don't even recall what I had for lunch yesterday, let along what I did at work today. My grandma had Alzheimers, so maybe it's started making its way down to me. Finger's crossed it isn't but honestly, I wouldn't be surprised, I feel like my dad's side of the genetics (aka my fucked up hairline) is predominent in my make up. Sad right?

Anyways, I wish I could just reflect back on my life and instantly recall what I felt. I wish I could look back in time and remember what I thought when I was in the closet? Or what I felt when my mum passed away? Or when I was in love with my best friend's American flatmate? God I wish I had written down my thoughts more often, time is flying by incredibly fucking fast. And it's scary. And it's daunting. And its all the synonyms of "frightening" you can think of.

Here goes my first entry. Digital this time, so maybe I wont be as ceebs when it comes to this in comparison to when I grab a pen and paper and I feel like I'm in an indie little film x

Bur for real, I wanna start this little blog off with how I'm, feeling right now. Right now is Friday the 15th of September 2023. A week prior to my one year anniversary at work. A year and a month since I've moved to Auckland. 2 years since I graduated uni. 2 years since my mum died. 3 years since covid. God, isn't it weird how you think of time through milestones? Like why can't everyday just be a milestone. I guess its self explanatory - and I guess I'm only frustrated that I can't remember my life.

I'm already ceebs writing this not gonna lie hahahaha, but I'm gonna push through but maybe I break this down into more bit sized chunks. Next one I'll do a piece on how I push people away, maybe sprinkle a little bit of self pity and self loathing into that one xox

Right now, I feel like I'm going through it - but not in the same way that I've gone through it in the past. I think it's some sort of growth, but I couldn't be certain. I really have no idea what I'm feeling. I wish I could say. I mean a few nights ago, I was ranting to my flatmate how I'd wanna go back to Christianity, then the following day I was sending Gavin Caselegno messages asking him for dick pics? Like I cant seem to make my mind up. God it must be so exhausting to be around me. I pity myself. I pity anyone around me to be honest. Don't think anyone should be around me. Why? Cause I'm fucking up and down man, every single day. I could be happy one moment and be depressed as fuck the next. It's a constant cycle of being inconsistent. If it's tiring for me, I can't even begin to imagine what it'd be like for anyone in close proximity to me. Or maybe I'm just overthinking this too much. No one actually cares. Genuinely no one. So maybe I just live my life how I wanna live it lol.

I think it's all catching up to me - being indecisive that is. I feel my entire life has been a mask - I don't really know myself and thats why I cant control my emotions. In fact, for a little while i thought everyone was faking their emotions cause i didnt feel any. Probably up until 2021, I genuinely thought that there was something wrong with me cause I never felt any 'real' emotion. Or If i did, I didn't think they were real, or I didn't have the emotional capacity to rationalise them. I mean, don't get me wrong, I feel all the emotions, but empathy is something I dont think I have.

That's another thing too. I'm so fucking selfish its insane hahahaha, Like I feel like I'm only ever concerned about myself. But so be it, am i right? No one's ever been there for me. Friends drift away, relationships drift away, even family, who i thought would be forever.. also drift away.. how fucking sad hey. Mateeeee honestly now that I'm starting to unpack this I feel like this will take way longer than anticipated lol. maybe this can be my little therapy book x

Kinda tired writing - so maybe i give this up and save it for another time. My flatmates are also watching a fucking show and I can't sleep and its grinding my gears damn. Anyways, okay signing off. Gonna check back in soon x

[pvremichigan]

The door swings open, and shuts with moderate force. A groan escapes the man as Jack enters the house, a tired and exhausted expression adorned on his features. Within these moments, he passes Mich who is sitting on the couch, to which he enters the kitchen. Slouching over the kitchen counter, he rubs his temples with disgruntlement. It is quite evident that whatever happened prior has unsettled the young immortal. To no surprise, this would stir some questioning. "It's a long story. But long story short: people fucking disappoint me. I ended up trying to help this young girl who has a demon clutched to her soul, but not only does she end up catching feelings for me, she is now seemingly throwing a tantrum because she got rejected. I'm tired." "… I need a drink."

Holding the booklet she had bought not too long ago upside down, the woman was desperately trying to figure out this one page of crossword puzzle. Goodness this was difficult... Perhaps if she turned it the right way- No that can't be it. C'mon, think...

The woman jolted in her seat at the aggressive swing of the door. The slight slam didn't startle her as much, but she watches with wide, surprised eyes as the man she knows all too well walks on in with irritated stride. She cocks a brow at his frustration, and opens her mouth to question.

"... So uh... What-"

Before she could finish, he just began speaking. Tightening her lips into a thin line, she slowly shuts the book to listen to Jack detail her about what had transpired. Her heart seemed to sink with skin running cold when a girl was mentioned to have caught feelings for him. More proof that she can't ever trust other women. Especially around IJ... That icy anger subsided for a moment when he confirmed she had been rejected. Hearing that a tantrum followed that rejection, Mich couldn't help but pause before snorting to herself.

"Jesus Christ, was she a child? What grown woman throws a tantrum when she gets rejected?"

Thank god there was no mirror nearby because hoo boy she'd feel like a hypocrite if she had to take a look at herself. Though, she was cheated on at a very low point in her life. She wouldn't necessarily call what she did a tantrum. Maybe more along the lines of...

A crime.

However, with a satisfied smile, she happily hopped up off the couch and strut right over to the alcohol cabinet. In celebration of him doing the bare minimum of rejecting a girl because he's taken (her standards are incredibly low at times) and the satisfaction Mich receives from the misery the girl felt with said rejection, she was now pouring Jack a nice and relaxing drink. The guy deserves it... After all, he's finally figuring out that people aren't worth it 90% of the time. Something she's restlessly tried to prove to him time and time again.

"And a drink you shall have. Did she cry? OH, did she try to take it back and say you weren't worth her time anyways? I adore when they do that, it makes them look fucking pathetic. Shows how hard they're trying to cope."

This might not be helping... But let her indulge! It's not often in her life she got to celebrate being chosen over someone else romantically! Better yet that she's not the one acting like a child!

Somewhat.

"C'mon, give more details. The more information you give, the more liquid courage you receive. We both win."

Oh boy...

"How sad, honestly. You go out of your way to just help someone in need and that's all it takes for them to fall head over heels for you."

OH BOY... Sounds familiar, if not a rhyme of another tale hm?

[troglobite]

hm

well. nothing like having a full-blown identity crisis to help destabilize you further during a time when you're going to be completely fucking stressed out chasing down answers to all this health shit. lol

ANYWAY

so unmasking autism the book gave me the beginnings of a legitimate full-blown identity crisis. and then considering taking an online independent poetry class taught by a prof that i've worked w before & like triggered the rest of it.

and i've really just spent the rest of the week in fucking shambles. having really bad brain days. just falling apart. and then i woke up today already having an anxiety attack (my dreams were completely fine, so it wasn't even that) and then i've just felt. bad. all day.

and now after talking to my mom abt it for 2 hrs and just thinking out loud abt everything that's been eating me alive all week.

well. my neck and shoulders and jaw are incredibly tense. i have a headache. i cried a bit, which used up several of the tissues that we have left in the house (which isn't many--we urgently need more). i'm gonna have to take some aleve. and i'm tired and overwhelmed.

but also. i, for once in my life, actually felt the weight lift a bit after talking about it.

idk that that's. ever happened. usually it's something that i'm mad abt that happened to me or around me. and i'm just complaining or venting right.

but this was like.

legitimately it was eating away at me. and it was like. idk i couldn't figure out why. i was just like "i can't fucking deal w this rn" but then i just had to. i felt so bad talking to my mom. and i was being hyper critical of everything i'm doing rn, which is what i do when i'm Bad Brain.

i've been working on the next session for my miss frizzle game which is happening this sunday. and i had to make a sort of city layout map. and i just. felt so insecure and angry and frustrated abt it. and it felt like that opinion of it was validated. it's. not very good.

but i just kept berating myself abt it.

and it led into me talking abt this shit that's been eating me alive all week.

and finally saying it out loud...helped. and like i started talking abt it w my therapist today. but we have 50 mins and i had to catch her up on everything and i hadn't like properly sorted through it.

so it feels sort of like i just did.

nothing is fixed but at least it. makes more sense.

i'm basically having to start from the ground up, figuring out who i even am as a person, what i like, what i enjoy, what i value, all of it. bc all this time i thought i knew. and i didn't.

and i'm also realizing i do have. an "addictive" personality and that i've probably been right to avoid All Substances including caffeine. bc the thing i realized is that i've shaped my entirely life in pursuit of external validation at the expense of....p much everything else. i chose the path of least resistance in that direction, but i still chose it bc of external validation.

and it's just. so deeply upsetting and unsettling to realize everything i've done or decided or said i liked or pursued--was bc of external validation.

and to realize idk how to form internal opinions and emotions and experiences. idk how to recognize something that i actually enjoy, unless it's something that i unmistakably enjoy--like if there's physical evidence of how i'm feeling (e.g., crying and being unable to stop smiling or talking abt it after seeing hamlet in a theater for the first time).

otherwise? i have no idea how i feel abt most anything. i have phobias and aversions. i have comfort items and things and sensory preferences.

aaaaand........that's all i actually know abt myself, anymore.

and that's terrifying as a person who craves control and knowledge and stability to be able to operate in this world.

so yeah no wonder i've felt broken and fucked up all week.

no wonder, even though the weight has been lifted, i don't feel great right now.

and it's just like....why did i need to be given this project in addition to all of my health stuff?

and i'm also frustrated, bc if the pandemic had never happened, i would be teaching rn and not questioning anything bc that's the path i set myself on for whatever pile of reasons i had.

and tbh i probably wouldn't be experiencing half of the health problems i have, bc they're triggered by stress, and my BIGGEST source of stress is from the pandemic, which is more stress than i can knowingly remember.

so i'm just. really tired and beaten down and now i'm not even an "i" i literally don't know who i am anymore.

and not like the run of the mill "what am i doing in life" but quite literally looking back at 28 years and going

"jesus fucking christ. what have i missed out on bc i avoided things i wasn't immediately good at and didn't immediately get external validation abt? what things did i sacrifice or ignore in myself for the sake of pleasing ppl and making them like and praise me? what things do i actually enjoy? what do i ACTUALLY want to do with my life? who even am i? what are my values?"

what even is my personality?

anyway i need to not rehash this bc i'll get a little worked up again.

but it did. feel. good ???????? i genuinely don't know. to just. finally figure that out. what was eating at me. what was really unsettling me.

and that has left me with a million more concerns and questions and v few answers at all. but at least i have somewhere to pick up from w my therapist next friday.

okay i'm gonna use my neck/shoulder massager and try and get ready for bed. gotta run through my game tomorrow w my mom to make sure i'm prepared for sunday and everything makes sense. gotta print out all of my notes and stat blocks etc. got various things to do.

//sigh. okay.

[sits back and sighs]

just thought of another realization

i chose all three of my names sort of bc of other people.

i mean. shakespeare and being mexican are also important to me, so there's that.

but now i'm wondering if i struggled to choose my first name (which i'm still perfectly //shrug. happy with ? i have no strong opinion i don't think? i did cry when someone first used it for me i think though) is bc i literally just don't even have a sense of who i am as a person at all. lol

ANYWAY.

i'd really like to be done with these earth-shattering revelations that completely uproot everything i think i know abt my self and my world and my life.

being a lesbian, being genderqueer, being autistic, being disabled--and now not even knowing who i am as a person.

[SIGHS LOUDLY]

[papijean]

slumber party p.g. & p.f.

summary: Pieck couldn’t say no when Porco asks if she can teach him how to pleasure you.

warnings: smut, 18+ content, threesome, voyeurism, oral (f. receiving), nipple play, praise kink, biting, finger choking, multiple orgasm, overstimulation

word count: 6.4k 

a/n: ngl this was originally going to be VERY different than what it turned out to be but I’m pretty happy with it still. I hope you all enjoy xx

"His heart is in the right place but he just can't get it right, you know?"

Pieck was tired of hearing another endless babble about your boyfriend. He was the love of your life, the sweetest guy to ever exist, and treated you well. However, he lacked in his ability to make you orgasm time and time again. It was always something he tried to work on - just as all your previous boyfriends - and just like them he failed.

It was discouraging, time and time again your boyfriend was never able to get you there. Not only did it leave you feeling like you were discouraging him, but that you were just never going to be able to feel what everyone else did. It was a struggle to even do it yourself, only on the rare occasion you could make yourself cum.

You were getting beyond frustrated at your own body for not doing as you wanted it to. With a sigh, you chugged back the rest of your wine. Before you could even set the glass down, Pieck was refilling it, as well as her own. It seemed the both of you were going to need it that evening.

"I know," she nodded. The two of you met up every weekend to catch up and relax from your busy lives. Pieck knew you from your first year of college and since then you were inseparable. No amount of boyfriends, loss of other friends, or time apart could change that. "I don't know what to tell you, (Y/N)."

"Tell me I'm pretty and I deserve to feel love," you joked.

"You are pretty, and you're loved," she playfully rolled her eyes. Pieck had the prettiest grey eyes you've ever seen in your life. They always held a mellow look until an idea sparked inside her. You hoped that evening you'd get a reaction like it, instead, they remained the beautiful hue you adored. "If he really cares about you, he'll figure it out."

It was easy for her to say. Pieck had been with more men and women than you could even remember. Time and time again it was easy for her to rave about how one of her hookups left her a tear-stained mess or how she made such an innocent face corrupted in an hour. Pieck oozed sex appeal.

With a groan, you leaned back on the couch you two sat on. Your neck was exposed, chest heaving with a sigh. Pieck couldn't stop staring. Her gaze lingered on the hem of your shirt - or more so the hint of your breasts that peaked out from it - up to your parted lips. Such a beautiful person to be wasted on a man like him.

A pink flush covered her cheeks at the intrusion of thoughts in her mind. Naturally, you looked incredible, she couldn't help but wonder what you would look like as a complete sex-driven mess. Glistening skin, arching back, god she knew you'd be fucking beautiful under her. Pieck could please you, she could give you what you wanted.

Pieck knew of Porco Galliard long before the two of you started dating. She knew of his bold talk and his cocky smile. Now, she knew he was nothing but bark and no bite. From the beginning she knew he wasn't worthy of you, now she was damn sure of it. Porco didn't deserve you, not when she was so willing to be the one to give you everything you could possibly want.

"Have you ever thought about sleeping with a woman?" Pieck wanted to hit herself for the sudden question. Of course, you haven't, not in all the years she's known you were you interested in women. Just because she was with them in the past didn't mean you'd be the same.

Your slouched figure peaked with curiosity. Pieck usually wasn't the kind of person to ask such questions. You sat up, crossing your legs and facing her. The wine you drank was going straight to your head, maybe she was feeling just the same. Pieck's long stares and quiet sighs were not gone unnoticed. It often appeared she had lots on her mind with you but it was impossible to get her to open up.

"I haven't. But if anyone could convince me otherwise it's you."

><

"You want me to what?"

Pieck and Porco went way back to when they were kids. The pair knew each other longer than you knew your boyfriend. It wasn't often they met up unless it was in a big group gathering so when she received a text halfway through the day asking to meet up that night, Pieck was extremely confused.

She wondered if Porco and you were in a fight of some sort, maybe you finally broke down and couldn't take the mediocre sex anymore, or maybe it was something bigger than that. Either way, she agreed to meet up with him for your sake. After hearing what he wanted, she was utterly speechless.

"Please, Pieck, you're her best friend. I know she's complained to you about our sex, I want to do better but I don't know how to. I need you to teach me how to make her feel good," Porco pleaded. He hated having to utter the words, but for you, he was willing to go to any extent. You deserved to feel good, and he wanted to be able to give it to.

Pieck couldn't deny the excitement between her thighs growing. Just a single look at you made her want to pounce like a cat in heat. She craved to know what your taste was and how your moans sounded. It was all she thought about, always wanting to be the one to make you fall apart.  

He never noticed the way she pushed her legs together to stop the ache. He never saw the gleam in her eyes at the thought of finally being crushed between your legs. He never picked up on the slight turn of her lips as she pretended to ponder his question when she damn well knew the answer already.

"Does she know you're asking me?" She managed to speak. This isn't the time to look too excited about the offer. Looking too excited would only make him hesitant.

"N-no," Porco shook his head. He didn't want to ask you in case this whole thing backfired in his face. Or more so, he was scared to bring it up to you in case you'd say no. This was meant to be for your benefit, but you could easily deny his offer. This was your best friend, after all. It would either make it incredibly easy to agree - or one of the hardest choices of your life.

Pieck shoved her hands in the pocket of her jacket. She'd do anything to get you moaning her name and now it was just being handed to her on a silver platter. Porco held no shame when it came to asking for her help. It made her even more annoyed at him. Just another reason for you to adore him instead of her. Porco was willing to go to any extent to make you happier, he really was the nice guy you spoke of.

Even with the material covering her hands, he could still hear as she cracked each of her knuckles while thinking about his offer. Her head was tilted down, hiding the grin on her lips and making it appear as if her innocence was shining through at the sudden idea. Her mind was already made up.

"Doesn't it make sense to have another man show you how?" Pieck continued to act as if she was uninterested. The last thing she needed was for him to get suspicious of her eagerness and decide to ask someone else. "I'm sure your buddy Eren would be glad to help."

"I don't want Eren," Porco winced at the thought. He didn't want any man to touch you - but Pieck? He trusted her with you. There was no one else in this world who he could ask besides her.  "You know what women like, you'll know what makes her feel good. Please, Pieck, I'm desperate."

Yes. Of course, you are. It'll be me who shows her what it's really like to be fucked, not you.

"Fine," Pieck let out a sigh. There were so many things that could go wrong if she were to go through with this. But fuck... the reward was worth the risk of it all. She needed you. "But I'm not doing it if she doesn't want me to. I'm not going to risk my friendship with (Y/N) for you."

><

For the first time in your life, you felt uncomfortable under Porco's gaze. Truthfully, you were sure he was feeling just the same under yours. There was a silence in the room as you tried to understand what was going on. Never in a million years could you have guessed your boyfriend would go to such lengths to do something for you.

You knew something was off with him the moment he got home. Refusing to meet your gaze, stuttering over his words, even playing with his hands as if to distract him from what was on his mind. He was more nervous than you were about this whole idea. The longer he talked about his plan, the more he became at ease.

Porco wanted Pieck to fuck you.

Pieck sat on the foot of your bed. Her dark hair was tousled around as it was and if you were to agree to this sudden plan it would surely get worse by the end of the night. She didn't appear anxious or worried, she looked almost... excited at the idea of being in your bed with you and Porco.

"Porco we really don't have to do this if you don't want to, we can figure this out together," you tried to argue. He was doing this for you, not for himself.

"No!" Porco shook his head. As much as he really did hate the idea of watching you get pleasured by someone else, it would be worth it in the long run. Pieck knew what she was doing, apparently, he didn't. "Please, I just... You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you. If it means asking for help, then so be it. I'll do anything for you."

Porco crossed the room in four strides before he was in front of you. His large hands incased yours before bringing one up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. You could feel the unusual sweat collecting in his palms, showing off just how nervous he was about this whole thing. The last thing you wanted was for him to get uneased or upset by his own idea.

"I trust you, baby," Porco whispered. He did, with his whole heart he trusted you. Never in his life did he have fear of you leaving him or cheating on him. He knew you well enough to know this night with Pieck wouldn't change your relationship for the worse. "Please, I- I want to do this for you. As long as you want it, don't worry about me."

God, he was so sincere. It was so hard not to love him, so hard to look him in the eyes and say no because all he wanted was the best for you. Silently, you nodded in agreeance with him. If it made him happy, you'd do it. Of course, you'd do it for him.

Pieck cleared her throat, catching the attention of you both. Her big doe eyes were darkened with lust and excitement. She could control her words, but her actions were a completely different story. This was what she wanted from the day she met you, and now you were finally hers to taste.

"Alright, Lover Boy," Pieck jutted her head towards the chair by your bed. Porco kissed your lips a final time before taking his spot on the chair. He felt awkward watching the scene before him, the way your best friend touched you in such an unfriendly manner left him with a crawling sensation up his spine.

Yet he couldn't peel his eyes away as Pieck's delicate fingers traced up your sides as she stood behind you. Nor when they slipped under the hem of your shirt and he could see the goosebumps cover your arms at her touch. Why didn't he entice such a reaction out of you? What was Pieck doing any different than him at such an early point in their night?

"Women don't want just intercourse, Pock," Pieck began. Her voice was so smooth it almost irked him. "Women want to be teased, to be praised, to be reminded how much they're loved. Sex isn't just with your cock, it's with your lips, your hands, it's every part of your body. You have to focus on her as a whole, not just each part."

Truthfully, she didn't care too much about showing Porco how to make you feel good, she wanted you to remember it was her who could make you cum harder than anyone. She wanted this night to be engraved in your mind every time you tried to sleep with your own boyfriend, thinking of her when someone else was inside you.

She was excited to see you wore nothing under the loose shirt you wore. The piece of clothing that likely belonged to Porco was gone, ridding you of everything of him aside from his eyes. For the night, you were hers, and she'd damn well make sure her mark stayed on you forever.

Pieck kissed up your shoulder, sinking her teeth into your skin the second she reached the crook of your neck. Your lips parted, silent noise passing through. It was until the rough tips of her worked fingers nibbled played at your taunt nipples did a sound rip through the quiet room. Her lips never left your skin, not even when meeting Porco's eyes.

"You have to listen to her, and not just her words," she continued. Pieck repeated her action from earlier, pinching your bud between her fingers just as her tongue swiped along your ear. The combined action caused you to lean into her, a small whimper passing through just at the same time. "See?"

Porco nodded, eyes wide at how euphoric you looked with just a few small touches. He was never able to get such reactions out of you and here Pieck was, able to do it with such ease. Heat rose in your body at the thought of your best friend being able to pull out such embarrassing sounds from your lips.

Your boyfriend was so big and strong, it was so easy for him to man-handle you without a second thought. Hoisting you up, flipping you around, it was all things you were used to with him. Pieck was so different; she was so small and fragile compared to him and yet she remained to hold her dominance against you. You were victim to her touch without want or need for escape.

You couldn't feel anything besides her touch. The warmth of the room felt like nothing, nor the coldness of the hardwood you stood. Nothing mattered in that moment besides her touch, not even the gaze of the person you loved most.

Cold fingers trailed down your torso, stopping just above the hem of the shorts you wore.

"Last chance, pretty girl," Pieck whispered between her wet kisses, "You want me?"

"Y-yes," you breathed out, eyes locking with Porco as you spoke. Not an ounce of jealousy was strung on his face, only a desire you'd never noticed before. Maybe he enjoyed watching you get pleasured more than he originally thought, or maybe, this was just his plan all along. "Pieck..."

"Sound so perfect when you say my name like that," Pieck smiled into your neck. Her wet tongue slid across your skin once more, just as her fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your shorts. Cold digits pressed into your hot, clothed core. Her words made you flustered just as much as her actions.

The pad of her finger pressed against your clit that was already in desperate need of attention. Just as soon as it was there, it was gone. A quiet whine emitted from you, only getting louder as her whole body moved away from you.

"You can't give her everything she wants right away," Pieck explained to your boyfriend. All he could focus on was the way your thighs pressed together as you waited for more. "She needs to want it, to want you. Leave her needing more of you before giving her everything she wants. Surpass every expectation and you'll never leave her disappointed."

Porco nodded. His pants felt tighter than they were just moments ago.

"I'm going to make you fall apart," Pieck's voice was just loud enough for only you to hear. Her hand dove back to your shorts, this time remaining on the outside of the material. the double layer of clothes between her and your sex made it impossible to feel what you really wanted to.

She wanted to see your face. Pieck was yet to see how worked up you were because of her, only remaining behind you this whole time. She feared maybe once you truly allowed it to set in this was her, not your boyfriend, that you would no longer want this. It was easy to hide behind your figure - but she was here to leave an impression.

"Please..." you leaned against her chest. She didn't sway from her words. With such delicate touches, she left you desperate for attention. It didn't matter where, you just wanted to feel her touch on your bare skin. "More."

Pieck smirked over at Porco. My touch will be greater than yours one day, she'll only want me, not you.

Your body nearly collapsed the second you reached the edge of the bed. Your knees felt weakened by her touch. Pieck was just a second behind you, pushing you farther onto the bed until you reached the plush pillows. You felt bare beneath her, vulnerable in front of your best friend of many years.

It all felt so wrong. It should be Porco pleasuring you, only Porco. He was the one you loved and yet he was the one who wanted this. You'd do this for him... at least you wanted to tell yourself it was for him.

Pieck's lips were hot as they encased your nipple. Her tongue was smooth compared to the sharp pinch of her teeth as she pulled away. A line of drool connected from her lips to your bud before she moved onto the other. She gave it more attention, sucking and licking until your back arched off the bed to grind your hips into hers.

Porco was always so delicate with you, caring for your breasts like a prized possession. You craved the way her teeth scraped against your sensitive skin, biting and nipping until you cried out with pleasure.

"She's not a doll, Pock," Pieck pinched at each of your nipples as she continued to lecture him. Your eyes squeezed shut at a particularly hard action of her fingers. She grinned as a quiet gasp protruded. "Don't treat her like one. A little bit of pain makes the pleasure feel so much more intense."

"I-I don't want to hurt her," Porco tried to argue. He was always so careful with you, especially with him being so incredibly strong it was easy to go a little too far.

"She'll tell you to stop if it's too much," Pieck assured. How did she know so much about what you liked? How did she know exactly how you would respond to every touch? Sure, you told her a lot about your sex life but this was a whole new level. "Won't you, doll?" You nodded.

Pieck palmed your breasts a final time before leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your torso. The tip of her tongue dipped into your navel before continuing down to your shorts. This time she made no teasing fingers, simply pulling them down your legs so she could continue her hot trail.

"Open those legs for me, pretty," Pieck looked up at you. Your thighs were tightly pressed shut, a sudden wave of fear rolling through you like a hurricane. This was Pieck, your best friend. She shouldn't be so eager to have a taste of you. Then again you shouldn't have been even more eager to have her tongue ravish you.

Her fingers dug into your skin, encouraging you to open up for her. With a final look towards Porco, and an encouraging nod from him, you did as you were asked. Maybe you were supposed to feel embarrassed about something like this, having your best friend between your legs as your boyfriend watched. Maybe you were.

Fortunately - or maybe, unfortunately - you weren't.

Fuck, her look alone had your hole eager. There was no hiding the increasing dampness at your core, or the way your whole body was flush for her. Her palms slid up and down your thighs before landing just below your hips. She pulled herself close to you, so close you could feel her hot breath on your warmth.

"Please," your voice broke through your attempted ask.

"You've got a pretty little pussy," Pieck ignored you, instead she admired you whilst licking her lips. "See how bad she wants me, Pock? See how her hips are jumping with every little touch? You can do the same thing, you just have to have patience. Make her want more. Make her desperate for more."

"Y-yes," Porco nodded along to her advice. His pants were painful tight at this point. Every movement only caused the material to rub against his aching cock and he couldn't stand it anymore. Nonetheless, he couldn't bring himself to stroke his needy length at the sight either. "So beautiful, my love."

"She is," Pieck agreed. Her lips were soft against your thighs. Pressing closer and closer to where you craved her and yet she still continued her path of teasing. Your hips bucked at the slight graze of her tongue against your clit. All this getting you worked up and you could barely have any of her. "Slow down, pretty. We have all night."

"N-need more," you whined, "please, please give me more."

"How can I say no to pleas like that?" Pieck hummed against your thigh, shooting vibrations up your body that you could only wish originated from elsewhere. "I bet you taste so sweet, always wondered that."

There were very few memories with Pieck you could forget. Every time you were with her there always seemed to be something she could say to make you think about it at a later date or just such a fun evening you couldn't forget if you wanted. Something about her presence always made her so memorable.

Today was no different.

Never in your life would you forget the way she moaned against your hot pussy the second her tongue got a taste. You didn't care about how her lips felt against you, only the eagerness behind it. Pieck refused to go anything less than perfection when it came to giving your cunt attention.

"Fuck- oh fuck," you couldn't even come up with a coherent sentence. Your fingers slithered through her dark locks, fisting the hair into a messy ponytail to keep her as close as possible. You could feel her smiling into you before her tongue dived into your needy hole. It seemed she was enjoying this more than you.

Porco watched in awe as your whole body withered under her touch. You no longer had control of your actions, only acting out in primal instinct. It was clear you were overwhelmed with such deep pleasure by just your sounds alone - noises he didn't even know you could make. Never had he gotten such pretty moans out of you before, not like this.

Pieck lapped at your folds, hypnotized by your taste, even more by your sounds. She wanted to stay there for as long as she possibly could - whether she run all the air out of her lungs or not. This was more than an enjoyment, it was everything she ever wanted. This was the only thing constantly on her mind and now it was hers for the taking.

"S'good," you moaned. Pieck's soft lips wrapped around your bud of nerves. Her tongue swirled your clit before applying the most intense sucking pressure you'd ever witnessed. If it weren't for her hands around your thighs you surely would have been thrashing around. "Ah! Oh- more, more, please!"

Her teeth grazed the nerve, hot breath fanning against it as she caught her breath. Your eyes were sealed shut, unable to notice the way she was gazing up at you in awe. Before you could calm yourself down from her undeniably incredible skill, her lips were on you again.

"Porco!" You suddenly shouted. Pieck's movements stopped in an instant. She pulled herself away from your sloppy cunt, looking up at you with such anger in her eyes you could barely even recognize her. The lower half of her face was coated in your juices and her own saliva, though she didn't seem to care in the slightest.

Her fingers latched onto your chin, forcing you to look at her.

"You're going to moan your boyfriend's name when I'm the one giving you this much pleasure?" She snarled. Pieck was almost always the one who could keep her cool, never had you seen her so angry before. Words stuttered out of your mouth as an attempted apology but you couldn't focus straight.

"Pock could never get you to moan like that, it's why I'm here pretty girl. You better moan my name"- she leaned in close to you -"even after tonight I want my name to be the only one to fall from your lips."

Pieck's fingers loosened on your chin, however, she gave you no time to process her words before she was dipping her two digits between your lips. Your eyes were wide up at her, even more so as her knee dug against your core giving you a temporary fill of pleasure.

"Get them nice and wet, doll," Pieck asked of you. She felt you grind against her limb, desperate for more friction, anything to get you closer to your release. Your pitty desperation was allowed as your tongue lapped up her fingers. It was hard to breathe but she seemed to enjoy your struggle. "Good girl."

It was embarrassing how loud you moaned into her hand at the pet name. Of course you wanted to be a good girl - whether it is for her or for your boyfriend.

Pieck pulled her fingers from your lips, adoring the way you panted to catch your breath. The pads of those same fingers fell to your folds, pushing themselves in with such ease. Her digits were far smaller than Porco's though you felt overwhelmed by her movements. Faster than even you, she managed to find the plush part inside you that would get you squealing.

"Come watch, Porco," Pieck looked over at the blonde as she continued her moments. "Come watch me give your girl a better orgasm than you ever could."

He wanted to get mad at her words, he wanted to tell her to watch her place and that you were still his girlfriend. Yet, he could only bring himself to heed to her words and sit on the edge of your bed. Porco was completed lost in you. The way your back arched off the bed, how your fingers desperately grabbed at anything near to keep your motions at bay, your fucking sounds that made it so hard for him to keep his cock in his pants.

Pieck used her free hand to grab yours mercilessly latching onto the sheets. It was such a drastic change of gentleness from the ruthless plunging of her fingers into your sopping pussy.

"Look at me, (Y/N)," she told. "Look at me when you cum so you can remember who it is making you feel this good."

"Y-yes! Fuck Pieck, please, please I'm so close," you were so desperate for this release. The build-up was nothing like you'd ever experienced before. Part of you felt guilty for showing how good she was making you feel while Porco was sitting right there. The major part of you couldn't care less as long as you reached this high.

"I know, baby. Can feel those walls of yours tightening around me. It's a shame this feeling gets wasted," Pieck jabbed. Her fingers curled within you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you couldn't take the pressure anymore. Your fingers squeezed around hers, eyes skewed shut as the most powerful orgasm you had washed over you like a tidal wave. "That's it, so fucking perfect. Cream all over my fingers, (Y/N). Let me hear you."

"Pieck!" Your thighs threatened to squeeze together as she continued her movements through your high. You couldn't see straight, no longer being able to tell the difference between your boyfriend and best friend. "P-por... Pieck- More!"

You didn't want this feeling to end, never. You wanted this high to last an eternity, to be stuck in its realm until your last breath. Nothing could ever compare. No one could compare to her.

Her fingers slowed before coming to a final stop. Wetness drenched her hand. Pieck leaned down, hovering over your lips before changing her course. Not once through this night did she kiss you properly. Maybe it was part of this deal she made with Porco. Maybe she couldn't bring herself to kiss you. Either way, you were desperate for a taste of her.

"Shit," you breathed out as the warmth of her mouth encased your nipple once more. Those same fingers once giving you divine pleasure went back to their course, rubbing slow circles into your sensitive clit. "Fuck."

Porco couldn't stand this any longer. He couldn't watch from the sidelines while you got yourself fucked again and again without his aid. Without another moment wasted, he copied Pieck's position, wrapping his lips around your perky bud just as she was. He seemed to surprise himself when he bit into the sensitive flesh and the sharp moan that followed.

"Please, baby," Porco could barely bring himself to part from you as he spoke, going back to your breast the second he waited for some sort of response from you. "Please I need you, I need you so fucking bad. You looked so godly, I need a taste for myself. Please, please, please," his words became incoherent as he left wet kisses down your sweat-covered body.

You found yourself looking over to Pieck for approval.

The whole purpose of this night was to teach him how to pleasure you. Pieck had done her job in full and now it was time for the final test. Nonetheless, she still had a great difficulty nodding her head at you. She didn't want to share, not when she had you like this.

Porco quickly shed his clothes, revealing his aching, red cock. Watching you got him so worked up it was almost unbearable to even stroke himself at this point. There was nothing more he needed in that moment than to be inside of you. Pieck had done all the work up to this point, he just needed to prove he could do just as well.

The tip of his cock slid between your folds, collecting the plethora of wetness before sheathing himself inside of you. Pieck's fingers were nowhere near the same girth as him and you were still bearing the pleasure of him stretching you. A strangled moan escaped you, just as your hands reached out to latch onto Pieck.

"Pock," your back arched for him, allowing him to grab your hips and haul you to the angle that would surely leave you a mess. Your eyes nearly rolled back when he found your sweet spot, hitting it over and over again with such power thrusts it nearly left you blinded with pleasure.

"Fuck, taking me so well. So wet from Pieck, huh? You liked having her tongue inside you?" Porco questioned. You could only nod.

You didn't think it was possible to feel any better that night than you already had with Pieck. It seemed Porco learned a lot in his time watching her. Now, now you couldn't think straight as he was pounding into your poor little cunt without an ounce of remorse. Just like she said, a little hint of pain can make the pleasure that much better.

"Look at her, Porco," Pieck cooed. Her voice was muffled to your ears, too consumed in what your boyfriend was doing to care. "Look how much of a mess she is now. Don't you want her like this always? Hmm?"

"Yes," Porco's voice was high. His hips sporadically jutted into you, barely able to contain himself from how greatly he was worked up from the show. "Fuck, baby, o-oh god I'm not gonna last if you keep clamping around me like that."

You couldn't help it, not when he was making you feel better than ever before. Whether or not it be because of Pieck beforehand, you couldn't deny how incredible you were feeling at this moment. Euphoria spilled down your body like a web, trapping you in its desire and making you want to stay for eternity.

Your fingers tightened around Pieck's, only just noticing now she had intertwined them. She pressed her free hand into your lower stomach, creating a different kind of sensation with every thrust Porco made. The dark-haired girl could feel his cock inside you, just for a moment feeling jealous she couldn't do the same.

"Come on, Porco, look how close she is. Give her more, give her the push she needs," Pieck instructed. The pad of his thumb pressed into your clit, rubbing harsh little circles that had you bucking into his hand. It was too much, so much pleasure all at once you couldn't handle the pressure of the build-up.

"Po-Pock! Oh, fuck, c-can't," you tried to get him to slow down but it only encouraged him to get you reaching your high. This was the first he'd ever gotten such real, primal reactions out of you there was no way he could just back down now. Porco slammed his hips harder into you, the weight of his balls slapping onto your ass with every thrust. "Gonna cum."

"That's it, babygirl. Cum on my cock, wanna feel you. Doing so good for me n' Pieck. She wants to see you cum too, pretty. Don't disappoint her after all this hard work she's done for you."

Tears threatened to well up in your eyes at the idea of disappointing Pieck. You couldn't. Soft fingers grasped your chin, pulling you to look to the side. Pieck's big grey eyes held so much anticipation for you.

"Cum for me, pretty."

Yes. Fuck. Her words were enough to set you over the edge you were teetering on. Disgustingly loud moans escaped you along with a jumble of names that were impossible to depict. Your whole body shook with pure orgasmic pleasure, every sense on overdrive. No orgasm could ever compare to this, no feeling could compare.

Every nerve in your body felt electric, eyes gone blurry with tears, and a ringing in your ears. Porco was no better. Rutting into you like a desperate boy as he rode out his high, cheeks flush and lips parted.

You felt overwhelmingly empty as he pulled himself out of you. The condom he wore was full of his cum, your hot cunt milked him dry completely. Porco struggled to catch his breath, still in awe of everything.

Pieck ran her finger through your hair, calming your body down into a state of utter relaxation. She didn't say anything, only watching you with a look of admiration. That soft smile of hers made it's way to her lips and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Such a good girl," she praised. It looked like she wanted to say more, but Porco's large hand cupped the side of your face, getting you to face him instead. His lips were soft on yours, nothing compared to his movements just moments ago. He needed your kiss, no longer caring Pieck was just there beside you.

"Did I do good, my love?" Porco needed to hear your praise. He was so desperate to make you feel good and if this disappointed you he wasn't sure if he could ever be the person he wanted to. Pieck made it look so easy to get you an utter mess, this took everything out of him. It was worth every bit.

"Made me feel so good, Pock," your words sounded slurred, but the message was clear. Pieck had done her job, and now he knew just how to make you moaning beneath him. "Pieck, t-thank you."

"It was my pleasure," she smiled again. You always felt safe with that smile of hers, even now when you were completely exposed. "If you ever want help again, Pock, I'm more than happy to give you a few more tips."

Pieck pushed herself off the bed, slowly feeling like the longer she stayed the more you'd feel awkward under her gaze. Leaving now would only mean you would ache for her later - exactly what she wanted. Pieck stood at your door, hand on the knob before turning around.

"Don't forget what I told you," she spoke in a tone as if she was reminding Porco not to forget all the tips she explained. However, her gaze was on you. I want my name to be the only one to fall from your lips. Pieck wanted you again and again. She wanted to be the only one who could make you feel like this and yet she knew all too well your love for Porco.

Truthfully, you wanted just as badly to hear your name moaned from those pretty lips of hers too.

- 

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𝕭ʟᴜᴇ 𝕳ʏᴅʀᴀɴɢᴇᴀ

_________________________

sᴜɢᴀʀ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x sᴜɢᴀʀ ʙᴀʙʏ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you come home from california after a year back to your old man

(Heavily inspired by Heroin by Lana Del Rey + Lightly by Old Money by Lana Del Rey)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs:: major angsttt, smut 18+ minors dni plz, bit of fluff, age gap

TW/CW: past drug use [reader], post-rehab

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: lana del rey’s music gives me major sugar daddy!steve vibes idky lol

(also brief description of ‘reader’ written to have hair that can moved from the face is like one sentence sorry but ur giving daddy steve a bj)

___________________________

You grabbed your bags and walked to the pick up spot at the JFK airport. It’s been a year since you’ve been in New York and you missed the city terribly. You especially missed your old man.

You stood for a minute scanning the bodies that littered across the floor until your eyes met those beautiful cerulean blue eyes you spent so many hours looking into. Instantly tears brimmed your eyes watching him move swiftly past the people dressed so casually unlike his usual stature sporting that incredible all black suit he always wore.

He looked tired and drained. Like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Y/n,” he came up to you, cupping your face before pressing his lips to yours passionately, desperately.

“Fuck, Stevie. I missed you so much,” you cried.

“I missed you too. I thought about you all the time; everyday, every hour, every second,” he hugged you tightly.

“Stevie, I wanna go home,” you whispered against his lips.

“Let’s go home,” he told you.

Home.

It’s been so long since you’ve been home.

You got to the car and Steve told you to just wait in the car as he put your bags in the trunk. You smiled softly at him before slipping in the passenger's seat waiting to go home like you’ve been dreaming about since the day you left. Steve quickly slipped into the driver’s seat himself and drove off eager to go home and finally hold you close again.

The car ride was quiet. You watch the blurry lights through the wet glass window of the car and your mind could help but wander back to the day Steve saved your life.

One Year Ago

You stumbled your way through the elevator doors with a lazy smile on your face.

“Stevie!!” you screamed when you saw him sitting at the counter with a whiskey in hand.

“You’re late,” he said quietly.

“Sorry,” you said.

“Why were you out so late? I gave you a curfew,” she said sternly.

You weren’t giving him much time, your body was on fire. You unzip your dress, not so gracefully, strippping out of your clothes. You pranced around in your panties and a bra giggling and running around asking Steve to catch you but he was having none of your shit.

“Get your ass over here right now!” his voice boomed startling you.

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead and roamed his hands along your body anyway but sexually. Your skin was extremely overheated and flushed. He was pissed. You had promised him the reckless behavior was over, but you couldn’t.

You were an addict.

“What the hell are you on?” he said firmly.

“Guess?” you were absolutely not taking this seriously.

“I’m not gonna ask twice; tell me!”

“Molly,” you whispered shamefully.

“God fucking dam-” he rubbed his face in frustration.

"Why do you even care so much you're- I- I'm nothing but a stupid sugar baby, anyway, " you slurred your words.

“You're more than that, and I know you fucking know it. You promised me you were going to stop! I’m done, I'm done” he breathed out. His chest felt like it was tightening, he couldn’t breathe anymore. He felt nauseous.

“No! No, no, baby; please!” you cling onto him like a child.

“You could’ve been hurt! What would happen if that shit was laced with something that could have killed you, hell taking it alone in the first place could have been the last straw! I’m doing this shit with you anymore.”

You cried, no you sobbed hysterically. You need Steve, he was your everything, your rock, your hope, your love. You knew you were a huge mess but you couldn’t stop. You didn’t know how. Didn’t know where to begin, who to go to. You felt alone.

You grew surrounded by money but when you moved to New York, you succumbed to the temptations and your parents were done with your shit. Meeting Steve, agreeing to this sugar baby thing was simply to use his money for drugs and alcohol, that’s all you lived for. Your life was over, might as well fuck yourself over while you're at it.

But you fell in love.

Goddamn, the man was perfect. He was treated with so much love and gentleness and compassion. You hadn’t felt so loved since you cut your ties with your parents and it hurt so good. You wanted to quit for him. The first night he found you disheveled and fucked, you were so embarrassed. You promised him it would stop that you were gonna be clean; but that only lasted twelve hours.

He should’ve ended it. He should’ve stopped whatever this relationship was. He told himself it was one time thing but once turned into twice, then four times until you went out every night getting high off your ass with anything that was available.

Steve couldn’t take it anymore. But like you, he fell in love too. He loved you. He really loved you. He couldn’t imagine his life without anyone else and the thought of losing you made him terrified.

“I’m done! I can’t sit here waiting for you every night wondering if you went too far! Staring at my fucking goddman phone waiting for the day they call and tell me you killed yourself! I can’t do it! You promised me you were done with this shit but here you are high off your ass again with molly,” he cried. Tears streamed down his face, his heart pained at the sight you breaking down.

“I need help, please,” you whimpered.

“Are you going to let me help you?” he sniffled.

“Yes! Please, help me,” you sobbed.

“Pack your things. You’re leaving for California tomorrow,” he said.

“What?”

“There is a rehabilitation center in California and I want you to go there,” he whispered.

“No-”

“Please, Y/n. it’s only for a year-”

“A year! No, I can't be away from you that long, please no!” you sobbed even more.

“It’s for the best,” he tightly holds you down.

“Why not here-”

“It’s for the best. I promise I’ll be waiting right here for you when you get back. I swear,” he looked into your eyes.

“Stevie,” you cupped his face, “I don’t wanna leave you.”

“I know; I don;t want you to leave but I promise you’re gonna get on that airplane and you’re gonna come back and tell me everything’s ok, yeah?” he pressed his forehead.

“Ok. You make me feel I can change. I’m gonna come back and tell you that I have really changed,” you promised.

“I believe it,” he smiled.’

“Maybe California is good. Something about this city makes my head go crazy. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sick of it,” you told him.

“I love you; so much,” he whispered those words for the first time.

“I love you too,” you cried.

“You ok?” Steve pulled you from your thoughts.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m just- I’m really happy to be home,” you choked out.

Steve grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips kissing you softly. His eyes stayed on the road every now and then glancing at you like a dream come true. You pulled up to the building where you two lived and Steve asked the entourage to take your things up for you. He lifted you in his arms with a beautiful hopeful smile and carried you to the apartment.

When the elevator door opened he practically ran to the bedroom nuzzling his face in your neck kissing lightly. You somewhat took in the familiar surrounding noticing no change since you’d last been there. It was bittersweet. He hadn’t changed a thing since you left.

“I missed you so fucking much, baby,” he whispered.

“Steve,” you sighed, combing your fingers through his hair.

“I’m never gonna let you go again.”

“You won’t have to. It’s all over; no more clubs, no drinking, no drugs, none of it. That girl, you used to call the queen of New York City, she’s gone. ”

“You’re still my queen,” he smirked, making you chuckle.

“I’m so fucking proud of you. You are so strong,” he praised.

You grabbed his neck and pulled him forward crashing your lips against his. You molded perfectly against like you were made for him. Like everything had led up to this moment. It felt different this time; his hands touching you delicately.

You two have had sex many of times but this time it was different.

He peeled your shirt off your body pressing kisses all over your chest. His tongue flicking over your nipple making you gasp softly. His hands gripped at your waist as he brushed his nose between the valley of your breasts.

You craved his skin on yours, practically clawing his shirt off his body. He got the memo and briefly sat up ripping his shirt off his body before falling back on top of you. His hips settled between yours and you could feel his growing erection poking through the material of his flimsy sweats.

You pushed him off your body, flipping him so you could straddle his waist; smiling devilishly as you brought your hands up to your breasts to massage them. Steve growled at the angelic sight above him pulling your hands away to replace them.

He twisted your nipples as you slowly grind your hips over his for a moment. That moment quickly died as you snaked down his body curling your finger over his pants. You languidly pulled them down his legs letting his erected cock spring free. You moaned at the sight, haven’t been able to see it since you left that fateful morning.

You wrapped your hands around the base of his cock and stroked his dick slowly pulling wanton moans from him that were music to your ears. You leaned forward and licked teasingly along the tip before swirling your tongue around it making him groan. His hand went to your head combing your hair from your face gathering it in a messy ponytail.

Your lips wrapped around his cock perfectly just that way he likes it; like you’ve a thousand times before. He looked to the ceiling and sighed at the pleasure you were giving to him. He was never one to make much noise during sex but he was craving your mouth wrapped around him; he couldn’t contain the moans and grunts that wanted to come out. He couldn’t wait until he’s buried between your thighs.

You cheeks hollowed around his dick sucking hard before you take him all at once repeating over and over again. Steve’s hold on your hair tightened with every bob of your head thrusting his hip in time with your rhythm. Hitting the back of your throat, Steve’s hip stuttered and his legs shook approaching his orgasm fast.

“No, I wanna come in you, baby girl,” he panted, pulling you off of his dick. You quickly discarded your panties before climbing back on top of him to straddle him, knees on either side on his hips. You cupped his face kissing him senselessly; passion and lust and most importantly love enveloping you two.

You lifted your hips briefly as Steve lined his cock with your soaking entrance and slowly sunk down allowing him to stretch you impeccably. You moaned in sync, like you were becoming one again after so long being unable to hold each other.

His arms wrapped around holding close as you waited a bit to adjust to his size again. He peppered faint kisses along your neck and collar bone, nipping playfully at your skin too. You felt so full and incredible basking in his attention and the feeling of your walls wrapped around him again.

You moved your hips back and forward, your clit grinding against his pelvis making you shiver in pleasure. You face tucked tightly in the crook of Steve neck, your thrusts getting faster and faster. Steve’s hands moved to your hips lifting you slightly before slamming you back down on his cock harshly. This made you throw your head with a cry of pleasure, strings of curse words flowing from your mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie. I missed your cock so much,” you whined.

“I missed you too baby,” he grunted.

You looked at his face watching it contort with pleasure, his eyes completely screwed shut overwhelmingly. Sweat lined his forehead, the shorter pieces of hair sticking to it. You brought your hand to it brushing his hairs back so you could see his face in it’s fullest beauty.

He peeled his eyes open, staring directly into eyes and breathed heavily in time with you. For a single moment between you both, time stopped. It felt as if the world was gone and all that mattered was right now; you being back in your old man’s arms again, the love of your life.

You couldn’t help the quick glance at his red swollen lips, desire to kiss them again overcoming you. You leaned forward capturing his lips for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, but it's something you’ve ever got tired of. The way slightly chapped lips molded perfectly with yours.

“I love you, baby,” he moaned.

“I- fuck!” you couldn’t even speak anymore when Steve’s thrusts became harder and faster desperate to chase both your’s and his orgasms.

“Look at me baby,” he growled, “You were fucking made for me. No one can ever fuck you like I can. No is ever gonna take care of you like I do. And no one, absolutely fucking no one, is ever gonna love you as much I do.”

Tears streamed down your face; overwhelmed with love and desire and lust. Steve saved your life and you owe him everything. You loved him evermore; he is everything. Steve kissed you again, addicted to your lips, tasting the salty tears that came from your hopeful and loving eyes. He wiped the tears away with his thumb.

“Stevie, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered.

“Come all over my cock baby girl. You deserve it,” he whispered.

Your body shook as you reached your high. Chanting Steve's name like prayer, like it was the only word you knew to say. Steve’s rutted his hips into one last time spilling his seed inside you, hot cum coated your velvety walls. You collapsed forward onto him and he held you tightly.

Your fragile body trembled against him and Steve's heart ached a bit. He knew you were overwhelmed, hell so was he. But he was so utterly happy to have you back. There were so many nights where Steve lied awake at night, unable to sleep without you, day-dreaming of a future with you when you’d come home. He knew you were a strong woman and he knew you were going to come back to him healthy and stronger than before.

He remembers the day he came back to New York after leaving you in California. He was with his old pal Bucky at a local bar in Manhattan. He’s always really known inside that he’d fallen in love with you, he’d proven already that he’d do anything for you. But that night is when he finally admitted it out loud to himself and to others. Steve can’t imagine his future with anyone else but you and he’ll be damned if something happened to you.

“Sweet girl, I love you with all my heart,” he whispered, stroking your back softly.

“Even when I’m old; when I shine from words and not from beauty?” you whispered.

“I will love you evermore,” he said.

He whispered more sweet things as you cried holding him tightly spending your first night back together in his arms. Before, you didn’t know where life was gonna take you; either to the moon or six feet under. But Steve swept you away to a promiseland and you’ll follow him blindly. It didn’t matter where life was going to take you next as long as you were with your old man, you were happy.

Completely and utterly happy.

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

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

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[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter One - Disclosure

A/N: This was supposed to be a Jax x Fem!OC fanfic, but it took a little turn as I started to write more of it. So, it’ll be Tig x Fem!OC, but Jax does play a very important role in this.

SUMMARY: A sick turn of events sees Isla Telford thrown in at the deep end, battling to govern the sudden pressures of all that her father's club decidedly bestow upon her.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of murder, the guy that got his ass shit is in this one. Jax and Tig get their own warnings, too, for obvious reasons.

The older I get, the more I realize that age doesn't bring wisdom. It only brings weary.

John Teller was always so astute.

His judicious character befell his son, too. Jax had that same perceptive nature as his old man--everyone would comment on that.

To Isla, it was admirable. For Jackson Teller to be a man of such stature--to hold such a reputation--and to remain somewhat level-headed through it all, was only something she could commend.

She'd seen many of her father's friends crumble under the pressure of Samcro, unable to balance the weight of living with the responsibility and commitment to the club, and meet their unfortunate demise--in some not-so extreme cases.

But Jax was different. He'd always been different.

Maybe that wasn't so great, however.

"You're fucking insane, Isla."

"Not insane." She mumbled, sifting through the box of shitty medical supplies that Gemma had left atop the pool table last night.

"Just trying to patch this shit up so Hayes doesn't kick the fucking bucket before Jax gets back here."

Tig snarled. "But it might be infected, and the bullet is still in this dude's ass--"

Isla whipped her head to glare at the man, her eyes wide, forehead slick with sweat--and a little blood, too.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Isla--"

"Tig, with all due respect, unless you're gonna help, please get the fuck outta here."

"That's not gonna suffice," he pointed out, referring to the medical tape, ignoring her scolding.

She wanted to throttle him. Truly, Isla was willing to wrap her crimson-coated fingertips around Tig's neck and squeeze the absolute life out of that man.

"I know." Her lips kneaded together in frustration, watching her father dab an alcohol-infused pad on the wound. "But unless you've got any better ideas, then we're just gonna have to keep reapplying this shit."

"But the infection, Isla."

"But the lack of medical equipment, Tig."

He slapped his palm against the table and glared at her, pointedly. "Why've you gotta be such a bitch all the time, huh?"

"Watch it, Trager." Piqued, Chibs growled.

"I'm not a bitch all the time," she dismissed her father, wiping at her palm with a wet rag. "I'm actually able to control the way I act around other people."

"Oh, fuck you--"

"Christ!"

The Scot's yell was muffled by the cap of his whiskey bottle, his hand pressing against Cameron's skin as the man screamed into the cloth Isla had placed underneath his head.

"God, for fucks sake, both of you just pack it in."

"Chibs--"

"Shut the fuck up. You're a fucking geriatric and you're spending your morning bickering with an almost thirty-year-old. Grow up, Tig."

Despite laughing at his comment, and enjoying the irritation wash over the other man's face, she felt bad.

For riling her father up--who was simply trying to help the innocent Irishman caught in the literal crossfire--she felt fucking awful. Especially because he never seemed to get mad at her all too often.

Tig, though...That was a different story entirely.

"I'm gonna go see if Clay has any more shit lying 'round here." She declared, throwing a damp towel onto the table, backing out of the room.

Her heart was in her throat, stomach in damn knots. Isla wasn't confident that Cameron was going to make it--not with such a deep wound.

And in his ass, too? Jesus. She wasn't confident at all.

Of course, she'd seen men get shot. Her own father, for one. But she hadn't seen somebody have to go so long without actual medical attention.

Chibs was ex-army med, but there was only so much a man could've done with a bottle of liquor, gauze, and a towel.

She was relieved that the bullet hit Cameron and not Clay, though. As sick as it sounded, she was so fucking glad that he'd managed to dodge the line of fire--initially intended for his own skull--and come out completely unscathed.

But for every ounce of relief she'd felt, an even more fervid sense of anger prevailed at the thought of Jax taking so damn long with those medical supplies he'd sought to get last night.

Gemma mentioned something about heading to the hospital--or a friend's house, or something--but Isla wasn't paying any mind to the woman as she, and Chibs, were trying all ways to stop the bleeding coming from Cameron's ass cheek.

It was the most bizarre turn of events she'd ever experienced.

One minute, Isla was sipping on a glass of wine while she eagerly awaited the spirited ping of her tiny microwave oven, ready to spend a rare--though well fucking deserved--night alone.

However, things took a drastic turn when she received a call from Tig--on behalf of a very busy Chibs--casually requesting her assistance because the Mayans had tried to assassinate Clay.

But Tig failed to mention that the man was completely fine.

She'd spent fifteen minutes on the way over mentally preparing herself, wondering what hell she'd walk into when she set foot into the clubhouse. But it was normal--strangely so.

Isla wasn't a professional, she didn't exactly know how to handle such a trauma, but she trusted her father and she just wanted to make sure he had a helping hand.

God knows that Tig wouldn't have been very much use, and Juice was a little nervous--though, he was doing incredibly well throughout the ordeal regardless of his internal apprehension.

"How's it looking?" Gemma threw at Isla, getting to her feet.

"Bloody."

She quickly scanned the room, taking in the uncomfortably sparse bar. It wasn't usually so empty, so quiet.

Clay, Gemma, and Juice. That was it. Not even Piney--not even Epps.

"Is he doing okay?"

It was still early in the day, though. She guessed that they'd pop in once they properly came around.

"He's better than he was last night." The brunette nodded. "Dad is certain the laceration is gonna get infected if we leave it any longer without trying to get the bullet out--"

"You've gotta wait 'til Jax gets back here, Isla, we can't risk Hayes dying on us."

"I know, Clay. He's just fucking tired--he's been up all night. We need a real medic on the scene before something bad happens. It's only a matter of time."

He mumbled something to himself that only Gemma seemed to catch, but Isla didn't particularly give a damn at that point. Like Chibs, she was exhausted.

The tattered and torn plaid shirt she had thrown over a random tank top--now smeared with another man's blood--was wrenched between her fingers as she pulled it off, folding it not-so-neatly.

She hadn't dealt with such a bloody wound in a while. Not since her mother's palm, decorated with shards of glass, was in dire need of stitches and her father was across the country, unable to offer his medical assistance.

"I'll grab one of Jax's shirts for you--"

"No, Gemma, it's okay," she smiled, taking a seat on one of the couches opposite her.

The older woman pinched her eyebrows together skeptically, watching Isla shift. "I insist."

"It's fine." Isla was adamant. "I'm gonna head home as soon as Jax gets back here--if he gets back here--so, really, it's fine."

A minimal amount of already dried blood was spread over her wrists and fingers, and the excess had been rubbed off on her crimson flannel, so she didn't particularly feel bad about making any mess.

Though, she shouldn't have felt bad. Not after she'd been coerced into helping and eventually receiving that shitty reception from Tig.

"Aren't you cold?" She questioned, waiting for Isla to capitulate, but she never did.

The thought of wearing one of Jax's shirts--after it being given to her by his fucking mother--didn't sit right with her for some reason. Plus, she didn't particularly feel like walking out of that building wearing the damn reaper on her back.

She didn't want to flaunt their patch. Not any more than she already had been for the last ten years.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Clay glared at the clock on the wall, realizing they'd been without the Vice President for hours. In an attempt to put him at ease, Gemma ran a hand along his shoulder.

Isla could only watch them--admire, perhaps.

"He told us he was gonna swing by Tara's place for the equipment. But that was last night, man." Juice shrugged, circling the lip of his beer bottle with his thumb.

She felt her throat thicken with a sick sense of trepidation. She hadn't heard that name in years.

"Tara?" She stuttered, feeling Gemma's piercing glare.

The woman hated Jax's first love, though she never said it aloud. Isla knew her perception of her, however, and she'd started to feel the exact same as the years went on.

Bitch.

"Yeah, y'know, Tara Knowles--"

Her heart sank--fuck that, it dove straight to the deep caverns of her chest, throbbing away into nothing. Until she felt completely void of all emotion. Completely fucking numb.

"I know her, Juice." Her response came hastily, snappy. "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect you to say that."

He shrugged it off. "It's alright. I wasn't expecting her to be back in town, either. I thought you already knew."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Isla's head shook.

The crow situated at the bottom of her spine began to smolder, blistering away at her skin until she physically flinched.

It was a brilliant idea at the time, getting a matching tattoo with Jax's old lady--the one woman she truly adored and trusted, never once feeling an ounce of malice toward.

Because that was a rare thing for Isla, and she wanted their friendship--and relation to Samcro--to prevail for eternity, she supposed.

But as time went on and Tara decided to distance, and eventually alienate, herself from the club, an ample sense of regret persisted for fucking months.

Isla loathed her ink. She hated the negative connotation of the crow she once lauded, and the mere idea of that thing being slapped above her ass forever churned her stomach.

It wasn't one of her finest moments, she had to admit. But she was young and extremely fucking dumb. She'd bet top dollar that Tara felt the same--if she hadn't gotten the crow covered up already.

"Jesus, Jax, where were you?!"

Her eyes flicked upward, attention on the blonde as he sauntered across the wooden floor of the bar.

She hadn't even noticed his presence until Clay spoke, but she soon started to heed how Jax was trembling a bit with every step that he took.

It wasn't obvious. To most people, the slight shake of his wrist would've gone completely unnoticed. But to Isla--to the most observant woman in Charming--his discomfort was striking.

Jax ignored him, stomping his way toward the back room. His line of sight never satisfied Isla's. It didn't even come close to it, either.

Something had happened. It was obvious that, in the time he had been with Tara, he'd encountered something grizzly enough to chill him to the bone.

Which was saying something, what with the horrific shit that he'd already seen in his time.

"Jax!" Clay yelled, following closely behind him. "Hey, asshole, where the fuck did you put the bag--"

"I've got it."

If she had the option, Isla would've allowed the floor to swallow her fucking whole.

"Tara." Pissed, Gemma acknowledged. "You're here because?"

"I asked her to help, mom."

"But Chibs had it covered. He just needed some actual instruments--"

"Gemma, quit it."

She simply nodded at her son, not wanting to cause another problem that she'd have to fix later--which, honestly, Isla was shocked to see.

"He's in there--"

"I know." Jax cut her short, ushering Tara to the back of the clubhouse--striving to get her into the room before she heeded Isla.

But she did.

The first person she clocked--aside from Clay--was Isla Telford, the woman she had purposely alienated herself from ten fucking years ago.

It wasn't anything that she'd particularly done to Tara, more like the crowd she ran with--and the way her loyalties never seemed to lay very closely to her friends, or anything outside of the club.

Isla wasn't a part of Samcro--she didn't want to be a part of Samcro--but her coalition was strong enough to convince anybody that she was more than merely a daughter of a Sgt. at Arms.

She had been brought up around the Sons--her father's choice, of course--and when her mother passed, she had no choice but to dive a little bit deeper into that world. But, as expected, it was constantly under the watchful eye of her old man.

She was dedicated to them. They were, essentially, family, and she was an honorary member.

"Isla." Jax mumbled, nodding his head toward the entrance of the clubhouse as he closed the back-door. "Outside."

He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his leather vest, shaking the box as he strived to seem a little less suspicious to Clay and his mother.

The blonde wobbled to her feet--knees weak after hours of standing--while simultaneously pulling her bloodied flannel back onto svelte, freckled arms, recognizing that the chill was to hit her the second she stepped onto the gravel.

Jax was casual while he strutted ahead, taking long strides that Isla found fucking impossible to keep up with.

He pushed the door to close behind her, offering a cigarette that she hastily declined.

"What's she doing here?" Was how she decided to break the silence, her eyes searching for a hint of something written on his face.

But there was nothing. Not an ounce of emotion--scarily so.

"She's fixing Cameron up--"

"Not at the clubhouse, Jax. I meant back in Charming."

He ran a thumb across his lower lip, trying to soften his gaze on Isla, but it was futile. He looked discomposed--unsettled.

"She's uh--she's workin' at the hospital now." She started to nod, waiting for his elaboration. It never came, however.

"Oh, that's nice. I wonder what happened in Chicago...Do you know why she's back here? Or how long she's gonna be staying in town--"

"You sound like my fucking mother--give it a break with the thirty-seven questions about Tara, damnit."

He snarled, heeding the distaste of his words the second she glowered at him.

"Excuse you?"

"I didn't call you out here for a sweet little conversation, Isla, I called you 'cause I need your help--"

"With what?"

Jax's hand hooked onto the back of his neck while he tilted his head to look upward, thinking of a way--any fucking way--to explain just what damn mess he'd found himself entwined with over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

He didn't know what to say or how to say it--if he should've fucking said it. He trusted Isla with his life--always had--but sometimes he appreciated that she mightn't have appreciated finding herself tangled within Jax's boisterous, at times frightening, life.

But it was too late for that. She'd been dragged through the deepest shit and wasn't crumbling that easily.

"Jax--"

"Kohn." He stated simply, waiting for the cogs of her brain to begin turning.

"What about him? You got in trouble with the ATF or something? Because we can handle that--"

"I already did." Jax laughed humorlessly, finally meeting Isla's line of sight.

The skin underneath his eyes was red raw, blotchy and irritated after he had used the sleeve of his hoodie to scrub away the tears he'd shed.

The tears he hadn't wanted to shed, but had fallen freely--uncontrollably--from those cerulean hues Isla never tired of looking at.

"What do you mean by that?" Nervously, she quizzed.

He didn't even have to say anything. She fucking knew. She knew exactly what he meant by that, but there was a tiny morsel of something within her that hoped and prayed that he'd declare that her gut feeling was wrong.

But he couldn't. Because it was right. Like always, Isla's intuition didn't fail her.

"Jax, honey, what did you do--"

"I killed Kohn."

[inglourious-imagines]

Oh Captain, My Captain (Ronald Speirs)

Requested by: @sydney-m

Summary: You and Speirs fooled around a bit but it was just a one-time thing. However, he can't fight his feelings for much longer.

Author's Note: I don't know if this is what you wanted but this idea suddenly strucked me and I had to write it haha. Hope you like it!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans  @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @stressedinadress @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox @happyveday

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.

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"Find what you love and let it kill you." - Bukowski

"The war's over."

Those three words echoed in her head like a prayer and she still quite couldn't catch the real grasp of it. After such long years of fighting and dying it almost seemed surreal for it to end now. Just like that.

Y/N looked at her trembling hands, not really sure about what's wrong with her. She should be happy, so incredibly happy, that it's all finally over. No more fighting, no more killing, no more dying.

Y/N glanced at the officer sitting next to Lewis Nixon as she tried so much not to stare at his tired face. In that exact moment, in that early summer sun, Ronald Speirs looked like the most innocent person in the entire world that she almost forgot what weight he had to carry on his shoulders.

All of them had to.

Harry Welsh smoking a cigarette leaned closer to her, "You really should talk with him. The war's over now. He deserves to know."

Y/N forced herself to look away from the worn out soldier. "I don't know, Harry... I'm- I'm scared." she whispered turning to the paratrooper fully.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, my dear." Welsh tried to reassure her but both of them knew it's just words. Speirs was an unpredictable person and nobody ever knew what possibly can go on in his mind. 

"But even if you are, you've got to tell him. What would you do if he didn't know? Disappear? Run away?" Harry took a drag from his cigarette and Y/N knew he's telling the purest truth. She had to do it even though every single part of her said no.

•••

Y/N's eyes wandered to the bottle of whiskey for the hundredth time in five minutes and she had to hold her hand down so she wouldn't grab it. It was harder, way harder than it should, with all the soldiers around her getting drunk just like the other night.

"How come you don't have a drink, darling?" Speirs crashed on the chair next to her, his cheeks flushed and a bright smile on his face. She'd never - during the entire war - seen him so happy just like in that moment.

"I haven't been feeling well, that's all." Y/N tried to explain, partly to avoid the conversation about alcohol but the more she thought about what she said, the more she realised she actually didn't lie. Not at all.

"What's the matter? You probably should go to bed, Y/N. I can get you some extra blankets. And hot tea. Or coffee, whatever you like." Ron mumbled quickly as some emotion wave through his body. He tried to ignore it but it came back when he looked at the young female soldier next to him.

"I'm okay, it's nothing serious." Y/N laughed patting his shoulder gently. Ron didn't have the slightest idea how he missed her touch. This was beyond his own mind and understanding. After the slight touch they shared, he found himself falling in, craving for her hands, body and soul.

"Do you think we can talk?" the tone of her voice suddenly changed and he was met with a pair of concerned deep Y/E/C eyes.

He nodded faintly, not sure what could go wrong so quickly but he took her cold hand anyway and led her into an empty room.

Y/N walked around the room looking everywhere but at him and Speirs knew right away she's hiding something from him.

"What is it? You're kinda scaring me to be honest." he admitted as he finished his drink putting the glass away.

"No! I swear I'm okay. It's just-... I have to tell you something." 

"Are you sure you're fine? You look a bit pale, the bed might really help." Ron insisted as his posture was evidently concerned, worried and maybe even scared. He had no idea what could be so important that Y/N felt the need to be alone for talking.

The truth was, even he tried his hardest to fight it, Ronald Speirs couldn't stop his mind, soul and heart from wanting her war-stained lips, her tender touch, her quiet whisper, her joinful laugh, her beautiful scarred body. He simply craved every single part of Y/N, the desperate need to have her near him was complicating his life but he was slowly giving in. Y/N was his new hope.

"I truly feel okay, don't worry." Y/N sounded a bit frustrated with the soldier as she couldn't get to the point.

"I'm gonna get you some water at least, right? Just wait a second." Speirs stated as a matter of fact walking towards the door.

And at the moment, when his hand touched the door knob, Y/N knew that if he left the room, she'd never be able to tell him.

"I'm pregnant, Ron!" 

Everything stopped. His arm fell to his body as he immediately freezed on the spot. Speirs expected everything, every single thing in the world, but not this. He slowly turned on his heel looking directly into her scared eyes. Fatigue and worry was basically radiating off of her.

"Are you sure it's mine?" Ronald whispered because he didn't dare to speak out loud. A weird atmosphere was floating in the air as well as plenty of unanswered questions. "Alright, that's a stupid question." he added as he saw the ironic look she sent him.

The room was flooded with silence for a moment - neither of them didn't know what to say. Their emotions were going through a storm, it was difficult to look at the other one without the unconditional love they'd been hiding inside of them since the night in Heagenau.

"I better buy that family house in the States I've wanted to buy for a long time then." Ronald Speirs finally spoke up with an innocent pure smile set on his face. 

A single tear rolled down her cheek. Ron took a few steps toward her. "It has a beautiful garden with lots of flowers of so many kinds. There's even a little house for the dog you've always said you wanted. The view from there is spectacular - woods and hills and mountains."

At this very point, Y/N was crying like a little baby as she hugged the soldier so tight like she never wanted to let him go.

"We made a human." Ron whispered pressing a gentle kiss on her lips that expressed way more than words ever could.

[riseofarmy]

02 | SO THERE'S THIS MAGIC BOY

i can do this all day 02 | so there's this magic boy

author : @riseofarmy

pairing : kim seokjin x original character

words : 2343

i can do this all day masterlist

previous chapter

DARLING

What. The. Hell.

Before me stands a man I've never seen before in my life. He's barefoot, loose harem pants hanging low on his hips and an open vest doing nothing to hide his bare chest. The most startling thing about him though is his hair. It's purple, as in I Am The Love Child Of Amethysts And Lilac purple.

I don't get how I could've missed someone as stand-outty as him.

He leans down elegantly to pluck the lamp from the floor and my heart seizes up instantly. I have no idea where he came from, or how he got so close to me without me realising, but one thing I do know - this piece of shit is not getting away with my lamp.

With a swipe of my foot at the stranger's legs, I fell him like a tree. He shrieks, trying to pick himself up, but I pounce on him, sitting on the back of his thighs and twisting his arms behind him so he has to curl backwards to stop his arms from hurting. I pull out the twine I store in one of my pockets, intending to tie up his hands, but then...

He's gone.

As in gone-from-under-me gone, making me fall onto my back since the hands I was pulling have goddamn disappeared. Disappeared! Again: What. The Hell. I stare at the ceiling, trying to orient myself. He was right there and then he was... not.

"I can't believe you just did that to me, like surely you knew how that would make me feel."

The man stands next to my knocked-down body, bending over to look me in the eye. He flicks a lock of purple hair off his face with a lop-sided grin that might have been meant to make me feel at ease but instead makes me growl in irritation. I make a grab at his ankles, but I only touch them for a moment before my hands close around empty air.

That did not just happen.

Except it did. He's out of my arm's reach and fanning his face lazily as I get on my feet, eyes lasered in on the lamp still in his hand. He twirls it carelessly and I totally lose my mind, snapping forward to jump on him again.

This time, I manage to tackle him to the ground again and lock his head into my elbow before-

"Don't bother, you'll just tire yourself out." Suddenly, he's on the other side of the small room, a roguish curl to his lips as he lounges on one of the bigger chests of gold. He notices me twitch in his direction, and with a wave of his fingers, I'm frozen.

It's an awful feeling, like time has stopped, but only for me. There's an emptiness in my chest that takes me a second to place, but then I realise what it is - I can't breathe! Somehow, I know that my lungs have stopped working, my heart has stopped beating, that the only thing working in me right now is my thoughts.

And then he lets go of me. I suck in a grateful breath, flexing my fingers until I'm sure my blood's flowing again.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit literally what the hell.

"Please tell me you've calmed down." I flick my gaze up to find the strange man eyeing me warily. He has a better grip on the lamp now and isn't flinging it around like before, so I force myself to stay on the ground even though I was itching to take it from him.

"Who are you?" My voice cracks, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, his expression clears up significantly into an overly bright beam.

"You know what, I have a song prepared for exactly that question, gimme a second to change." Before I can consider the ridiculousness of that statement, he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's wearing...

Actually, what is he wearing?

He has on a startlingly white jacket, with odd, overblown shoulders, and a matching pair of breeches that were fitted to his body and made of a stiff material. The outfit was studded with what looked like diamonds, his hair was slicked back off his forehead, and the whole look completed with a set of short, silver boots.

I can't help it. Before I can slam a palm over my mouth, a snort slips out.

The man looks a little shocked, mouth dropped into a horrified 'O'. "Are you laughing? At me? Why are you laughing?!"

"You look... What are you wearing?"

He splutters, ears reddening so quickly they might just pop. "Do you not have any taste? This is high fashion, the result of a gorgeous marriage between class and art and I look stunning."

This man was serious! His hand was curled into a fist and he looked almost comically furious, but I just couldn't take him as anything but a joke.

Especially not when, a few seconds later, he lets out a scream and jumps onto a chest. It takes me a moment realises that the thing that had him currently shaking like a leaf was none other than... Yoongi.

Yoongi, my little furball cat, who slinks past the terrified man and curls into my bent form.

"Wait. Are you scared of cats?" When he doesn't reply, I have my answer. The man flinches as I stand up and step closer to him, eyes trained on the only-slightly-feisty ball of fluff at my feet. "How does this sound: you give me the lamp back, and I won't tell Yoongi to bite you."

At this, the man looks up. "The lamp is yours anyway! Take it! Just keep that thing away from me! WHY IS IT COMING CLOSER?!"

I stop moving closer to him, eyebrows furrowing - it seems too easy. I pat Yoongi's bum and direct him to the other side of the room before turning to address the man again. "You'll just... give it back to me? Then why did you take it in the first place?"

Now that Yoongi's further away, the man looks at me directly, throwing his hands up in what was probably frustration.

"Are you out of your mind? Seriously, did you get knocked on the head too hard before or something? Why would I take the lamp? It's literally yours? I can't? Do anything with it? Just? Take it?"

It was my turn to splutter. "Well- I- Alright then? I'll just? Take it?" It's strange to be talking in question marks, but everything about this situation is strange and I don't have the time to get hung up on the details.

I rush forward before he can change his mind, swiping the lamp from his hand. I cradle it to my chest, deciding right there that the next person to even glance at it without my permission is getting castrated.

"Can't you keep it away from me?" The stranger jerks his head at Yoongi, who was pawing through a pile of gold, completely unaware that he was the object of the man's derision.

"It isn't even near you and it has a name. Yoongi. He's not gonna hurt you."

"Mmm-hmm, that's what they all say before letting those monsters maul your face off."

"It's a little concerning how oddly specific that was, but Yoongi's not gonna 'maul your face off', he can't even catch rats. Anyway, can't you just save yourself by doing whatever it was you did before?" Before, when my body stopped but my mind didn't. "Um. What did you do before."

"Well, that's exactly what I changed into this incredible outfit to explain!" He gestures at himself, the diamonds throwing light around the room. "I literally told you I have a song prepared. You have a problem with that?" He adds in the question, probably realising that my face was twisted in disgruntlement.

"Can't you just say it?"

The man visibly deflates, and I almost take my words back. Almost, but not really. He clicks his fingers again and he's back in the harem pants and vest, then once more, and two plush armchairs appear. I think I'm already desensitised to things popping into existence.

"Sit," he gestures, plonking into the one opposite. "Since you want to do this the boring way. What do you want to know?"

I sink into the seat, half expecting it to disappear from under me, but it holds. Yoongi jumps into my lap, and I quickly look up at the man for his reaction, but he seems to have calmed down from his initial fear - he just purses his lips and avoids looking at Yoongi.

"I guess I'll start with... Who are you? And how did you get here without me noticing?"

He cocks his head. "Do you even know what the lamp is?"

I look down at my lap where Yoongi was batting at the purple gem in the lamp. I don't want to let on that I knew what the lamp can do, but something gave me the feeling the man already knew. "Yeah, it's a magic lamp. Makes all your wishes come true."

"Wow, it's so interesting that you think that because that's wrong."

Cue round two of me spluttering. This man did not just show up, out of nowhere, and deny what I have known for the last eight years.

"Wrong? What do you mean wrong, I'm supposed to be the only one left who knows about this lamp."

"And who told you about it? Actually, it doesn't matter, because sorry to disappoint you, honey, but whoever it was didn't have their facts straight. The lamp doesn't do anything, it's just a vessel for the real wish granter. That's me."

I blink, waiting for the punchline. It doesn't come, though, and the man cocks his head again, an amused smirk lifting his lips.

"Since you haven't figured it out yet, I'll spell it out for you. I am a djinn, a genie if you will. And since you freed me, you are now my master until I grant you your wishes." He furrows his eyebrows. "No wait, I've missed something. You know, my song was perfected to give all the information you need in the right order and now you've messed me up."

And then he starts humming something under his breath, bobbing his head to the beat in his head. "Oh! You have four wishes. And my name is Seokjin."

"What?!" Oh hell no.

"Yikes, what's with that reaction. Seokjin isn't a weird name or anything so-"

"No, what do you mean four wishes? I'm supposed to be able to make as many as I want!" If I can only have four wishes...

"I mean exactly that. I can grant you four wishes, no more, no less - not that anyone's ever wanted less. And before you even think it, you can't ask for more wishes." He looks at me sternly, as if it's something he's had to say repeatedly.

His words feel like a physical blow to my chest, winding me and making my brain blank. Four wishes. That certainly is less than I had planned for, but I guess it could have been a lot worse. I could have had only one wish, or I could have never found the lamp. Yes, thank goodness I have at least this many - I just have to make sure I make it count.

"Are you okay? You haven't said anything for, like, two minutes. I mean, I'm used to people becoming speechless in my presence, but you look more stressed out than in awe, so."

"Huh?" I shake myself out of my increasingly spiralling thoughts. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... Wait, the ball!"

Only four wishes? This new stranger I'm apparently stuck with? Both of those I can deal with, I can find a way. But if I miss this ball then it doesn't matter how many wishes I have, I won't even be able to start with my revenge plan.

The ball, as in the prince's twenty-third birthday ball, which is only a week away. It was announced by the king when the prince was only ten: a grand ball open to nobility from all over the world. Even in Paaratham, the announcement sent tremors through towns because the prince was to choose his bride from among all the single noblewomen that attended.

I'm not from a noble family, and I'm definitely not a princess, but I'm determined to be the one the prince chooses.

The lamp was supposed to help me with that, and I had planned to wish myself into the kingdom after getting the lamp, but that's not an option anymore. If I wanted to get there in time, I need to leave now.

Immediately, I snap into action. I start stuffing my pockets with gold, since I don't have much more money on me, and packing into my rucksack the few bolts of fabric that were already tailored into clothes. The man - Seokjin, I tell myself - only stares at me, until I address him.

"Some of us can't magic up stuff whenever we want, so excuse me for snatching what the dead won't use anyway. Is there anything from here you want to take?"

"Me?" He looks shocked, probably thinking I must be dumb to ask a genie if he needs anything.

"No, the creeper behind you. Yes, you, is there anything you need from here? You have two minutes."

I go back to filling my pockets as Seokjin frantically rustles through the room. I don't see what he's getting but he seems satisfied when I call him to me.

Yoongi meows at him, obviously wanting to investigate Seokjin, but I pick him up and lay him on my shoulder. I kinda want to figure out this whole genie thing too, but I don't have the time right now.

Right now, I've got to get to the capital, Mansae. Everything else I can sort out later.

"Alright, magic boy. Let's get outta here."

i can do this all day masterlist

next chapter

[frenchlangdon]

Late Night Louisiana Pt. 7

Summary: It’s late 19th century, Y/N moves to Louisiana to learn more about vampires. But what happens when she finds one likely creature of the night at Porterhollow Cemetery?

LNL Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!bucky x reader

Warning: brief mention of rape

"About earlier. That kiss. I'm not trying to start anything. I'm— there's— I'm no good at relationships. It would only end up in a mess." I said. I sat down on the chair in my kitchen

It's true, I've had a couple of men along the way, the relationships almost always end in disaster.

And I don't know if it was me or them. It always felt like it was my fault, they were always sure to tell me it was my fault.

"What are you feeling?" He sat down in one of the chairs next to me.

"Confused."

"About what?"

"I really like you. And I want to know more about you. And I want to be your friend, I really do. But I can't be harboring feelings for you. And you can't do the same either. It would just make us miserable."

"So you're saying that you feel the same way, you just don't want to be with me? Is it because of what I am? Is it because I scare you?"

"You are the most kind and gentle man I've ever met. You don't scare me, not one bit. I just think we'd be better off as friends."

"I can't just make them go away. The feelings, I mean. It's not like I can just make them vanish. But if you wish to just be friends, then we shall just be friends."

"We've only known each other for two days, you know." I chuckled, I stare into his eyes.

"You should know I don’t like everybody I meet. I don’t trust just anybody. You’re different, I can sense it. I can connect with very few people and have this feeling like I've known them my whole life, you're one of those people. I feel drawn to you. You're magnificent and kind. And you're very beautiful."

"Will you protect me, Wreck?"

"Of course, Y/N."

"Will you always tell me the truth?"

"Always."

"Will you tell me your name? You’re real name?" He hesitated for a moment.

"You already know it. James. James Buchanan Barnes, but back then friends called me Bucky." A small smile crept up on his lips.

"I should've known! You said it so quickly, I thought you might've known someone with that name or your alias."

"Will you tell me some of the stories you've heard about me?"

"Well no ones knows much about you, the stories are very vague. Most of the towns whores say you've slept with them, took the bandana off when you did the deed, some said you had honey brown eyes and other says emerald green eyes. Said you kept coming back for more." I bit my lip as I tried to hold in laughter.

"That's odious!" He scrunched his face up and physically cringed. "No. I haven't laid with a woman in decades. It's crossed my mind many a nights, but, no. Never. I could never sleep with one of those women. Nothing against who they are, just wouldn't want to catch something."

My eyes widen at the last sentence and he laughed.

"Have you ever laid with a man before?"

My body stiffened at the question, he was blunt and straight to the point. But the question reminded me of something I tried to forget every single day. "Yeah. I have." I looked down to my hands that were resting on the table. I traced shapes on the smooth surface, trying to keep my mind from those formidable memories. "Did I upset you?" He asked. He leaned down trying to look at my face.

"No. Just, I've um, l-laid with one man, uh, it was a terrible experience." I look to the the ground where my feet were. "Did he..."

"Yeah. He did." I whispered. My whole body felt uneasy, saying the words out loud was torture for me.

I had gotten drunk one night and a man took me to his house, against my will. I woke up the next morning and didn’t know what had happened the night before and I was feeling incredibly sore.

As the months went by I remembered certain things, terrible, awful things.

"My darling, I'm sorry. We don't have to carry on with this conversation. I can't imagine how it's affected you." He lays his hand on top of my hand that rests on the table, causing me to flinch.

The only thing I can do is nod, and I barely manage to do that.

"You've shown me such kindness over the past two days. I appreciate that, I truly do. In return, if you would, I'd like to stay with you. To protect you, from the evil of this world. Only if you would allow it. If you wish for me to be gone, then I'll be gone within seconds. I can see a great friendship unfolding if you let me stay."

I stare at him in disbelief, "I'd love for you to stay, I do get lonely here by myself sometimes but wouldn't you get tired of me after awhile?" I chuckled. "I mean you'd get bored for sure, I'm not an interesting gal."

"That's not true. You're very interesting, you can read, not a lot of women around here can read, well back then at least. I don't know about now."

"Well I'm sure there are more women around here that can read. But enough about that! What would you like to do the rest of the day?"

Truth be told, I hate talking about myself or of any subject that involves me, call it an insecurity, but for me I just hate being the topic of discussion.

"Why don't we go back to the lake?" He said.

"Yeah sure! Do you want to go for a swim?"

"I don't have anything to swim in." His brows furrowed and his lips frowned. I can't lie, he looked really cute.

"I'll buy you something." I beamed.

"I can't let you do that." He argued.

I stood up from the chair and walked to the door.

"You need a new set of clothes anyways, you can't wear the same outfit you've worn for the past couple decades." I playfully winked at him. I walked out of the house, he followed behind me.

On the way to the shop, we talked a little bit about everything, the sea, the outlaws he stayed with for a bit. It's so easy talking to him. He doesn't make you feel inferior or anything close like that. Nowadays people are so egotistical if they have a silver spoon. It's truly disgusting.

We make it to the shop and Wanda greets us.

"Y/N! Good evening!" She flashed her beautiful smile. "And who might this be?" She asked.

"This is Bucky, a friend from Texas. He's come down here to live with me."

Bucky walks closer to Wanda and shakes her hand. "Pleasure to meet you, miss." She nodded, her smile widened. "Pleasure to meet you, too, Bucky."

I got a couple outfits for him, he was a very picky shopper, at the end we got him black trousers and a couple tan and white long sleeve shirts. Nothing too fancy, he said.

I packed the new clothes in my leather bag and bid Wanda goodbye, we made our way to the lake.

"Isn't it just beautiful?" I said, we sat down on the sand, I set the bag down in between us. "It is, I've missed the water." He let out a sigh and kept his eyes on the moving water. "Why didn't you ever come down here?"

"I did, every couple a years, I don't know why I stayed in the cemetery for so long. I felt like it was the safest place for me."

"Why is that?"

"Because the dead can't judge you."

"I'll never judge you, y’know." I grabbed his hand intertwining it with mine, I brought the back of his hand up to my lips, gently kissing it.

We sat in silence after that. It was a moment I'll never forget. The sun was setting, the remainder of the sun reflecting off the water, the muffled music from across the street inside the tavern, the sounds of nature.

"You know, this is my favorite time of the day. When everything is winding down. It's so peaceful, and the sun isn't too harsh, it's perfect. I call it late night Louisiana. Has a ring to it, don't it?"

"It sure does, sugar." His lips curved upwards into a smile. His smile. How have I never noticed how perfect it was? His eyes crinkle whenever he smiles. Why is his face so perfect? Maybe being with him wouldn't be such a bad idea...

"Do you want to become human again? Fully human, I mean. With no abilities."

"I'd give anything to be normal again. Anything." He withdrew his hand from mine and looked down to the sand. "Maybe we can visit the voodoo shop tomorrow, they have elixirs in there, we can see what they have. Nobody ever buys their potions and elixirs because of your story."

He shrugged and lifted his head back up to look at me. Sadness deep in his eyes, laced with longing. "What if none of them work?"

"Well, we'll find out once we get there, won't we?"

"I guess."

I hugged his torso, "Let's go to the tavern."

We both get up and dust the sand off of our bodies. I grabbed my bag and we were off to the tavern across the street.

Bucky and I go inside and he orders the both of us a beer. I catch Steve walking past the windows of the tavern. I jump off the bar stool and turn to Bucky, "I have to go outside real quick. I'll be right back." I run out of the tavern and holler for Steve.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. I walk up to him. "Hey stranger. Did you buy that book, that Stark's Amazing Finds?"

"I did, why?" He raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well I was wanting to show Bucky what a walrus and a seal looked like. I was wondering maybe I could borrow it for a day." He scoffed and looked to the side, he kicked a rock with his boot.

"Why didn't you ever mention him to me?" Steve asked. "I guess I forgot to tell you about him."

"Y/N, we tell each other everything it at least that's what I thought. Why didn't you tell me he was moving in with you?"

"Steve, I just forgot. I'm sorry. Why do you care so much? It's not really a big deal."

"He said you were getting lonely livin all by yourself, why didn't you ask me to move in? I would‘ve."

He stepped closer. "I didn't think you'd want to live with me. You hate it when I talk about vampires. I can only imagine you getting frustrated with me everyday because I'm so focused on finding that damned vampire." I leaned against the outside brick wall of the tavern. I look up to Steve, he was up against the brick wall, staring at the water. The orange glow of the sun shone on his face, his blue eyes were even brighter, if possible.

"I would've learned to deal with it." He said, he turned his body towards me.

Nothing else was said. We were both staring into each other's eyes. He wanted to say something, I could feel it in my bones. “What is it?” I asked.

“I wanted to tell you something. It’s really important.” He started fidgeting, beads of sweat were on his forehead.

“Hey, you can tell me anything. You know that.” I smiled and intertwined our hands together. “Uh... Bruce is coming back into town.”

“Oh...” I let out a shaky breath, my heart was beating out my chest. It felt like somebody had knocked the wind outta me. “Do we know when he’s supposed to be here?”

“Sometime next week.”

“Next week?”

“Yeah, next week.”

“Is he— is he bringing...”

“Yeah. She’s coming too.”

[riyuu-bsd]

Rest [Edgar Allen Poe x Reader]

"What's the new book about?" she smiled, (h/c) lockes swept behind her shoulders,

"A-ah! (L/n)-San! I'm going to write a book that will absolutely stump Ranpo-Kun, because as his rival, I have to challenge him," her boss smiled,

"Sounds awesome, Poe-San!" the maid enthused, "Can I read it so far?"

In truth, the girl had no interest in reading, preferring to lead her life as a detective for her fix of action. She may not have been able to protect Poe, but she certainly could support him wholeheartedly.

Which is what she did.

"Oh, of course, but I never knew you enjoyed reading so much," the male said with a small chuckle and a faint dust of pink on his cheeks, standing up with the draft in hand.

"I could've gotten it myself, you know," the lady chuckled, moving closer so that she could get the book so far.

"Yes you could I never doubted that I justt thought that it would be better for me to hand it to you myself," he rambled, flustered at his own awkwardness as he sat back down, hiding his face in his hands (not that it made much difference, with how his hair covered his eyes). You smiled at how adorable you found it, however unprofessional it may have been.

In truth, it wasn't far off to say that she liked the shy male. His aura of mystery (which only existed due to his timidity) was alluring, and his dedication to being a good rival was refreshing. He was incredibly friendly, underneath all his awkward fumbling, and when he was comfortable with someone he was somewhat clingy. It was all adorable to the (h/c)ette, though she knew how scandalous it may seem to romanticise her boss in the work place. She had tried to drop hints, but they fell onto deaf, awkward ears. Whenever she would brush her hand against hi, he shuffled to the side, thinking it was a signal he was too close. Whenever she would give him a smile, he shied away, assuming that it was because she saw him looking at her and found it unsettling but knew how sensitive he was. It was almost frustrating, when she dwelled on it.

Snapping out of her thoughts and concentrating on the carefully crafted strings of words infront of her, she looked in amazement at the effort put into a draft of the novel. She smiled to herself, flipping the page.

The author peeked through his hands to see how she reacted so far.

A smile?

Did she find it laughable?

It would be crushing if his kind, sweet maid laughed at his work.

But at least it would be honesty, right?

Drowning in his insecurities, he failed to notice he was staring again, and quickly ripped his gaze from her.

"Its great, Poe-San," the lady smiled, holding it out for him. Whilst she had no interest in books, writing or reading, she had been encapsulated in the intricate strings of words, the sense of mystery and clues dropped intruiged her.

"Y-you think?" he stammered, unable to take the compliment at face value. His face flushed slightly, a small smile forming at the smile and nod of his assistant. She looked at her pocket watch, noticing the time,

"Ah! I should be going, I have things to sort out and rooms to clean," she chuckled, standing up and excusing herself, "Thank you for your time," she smiled with a bow.

Poe himself had lost track of time, glancing to see what it was.

11:43.

"(L-l/n), you've worked a long shift, you should really be going home," he fussed, getting up and stepping towards her, "I-I could get you a cab," he offered, "Or I could d-drive you, don't overwork yourself-"

"Don't overwork myself? Poe-San, you've been working on that novel for a week straight, you've barely left your office," the head maid fussed, turning around, "Besides, I still have work to do,"

"B-but-"

"No buts, I'm not paid to have a good nights sleep," she pouted, leaving with a small bow.

The author was left feeling nervous and guilty. He resumed finishing up the final version, mind racing with his thoughts.

His mind was clouded with thoughts and concerns of how tired she must be, if she was eating properly and other things he never usually worried about. On multiple occasions he had found himself writing her name rather than the word he was supposed to.

"Poe-San, I'll be leaving now," the maid said with a curtsy, "Unless there's anything else you need help with,"

"N-no, there's nothing else, (L/n), thank you," he smiled, amazed at how confident he seemed (despite the initial stutter),

"No problem, Poe-San, I'll be going," she said with a small smile. Before he could offer her help getting home, she was on her way out. He scrambled to his feet, chasing after her,

"W-wait!" he called, trying his best not to trip, "Have tomorrow off, i-if you'd like," he said, somewhat out of breath after not running for so long,

"I'll be fine with just coming in a bit later, if that's possible," she smiled,

"S-sure," he agreed, Karl catching up and climbing back to his usual place on Poe's shoulder.

"I'll see you, then," the lady said, somewhat curt. He nodded, retreating to his room at a brisk place.

.

.

Laying in bed with Karl curled up next to him, Poe began to feel somewhat feverish. He felt too warm, head spinning and focus askew.

What was happening?

He brought his hands to his usually cold face, pulling them away quickly at the intense heat.

That wasn't usual.

He was usually stone cold.

Why did he feel warm?

Why was his face red?

Why couldn't he take her off of his mind?

He stroked Karl's fur, hoping it would destress him and that he could find answers. He wanted answers; answers he couldn't get.

"Oh Karl, what am I going to do? I can't get her off of my mind," he whispered to his beloved raccoon, "And I'm so warm lately.. What's happening?"

Karl remained curled up, falling asleep to the quiet, worried rambles of insecurity lulled by his owner.

Stealing a glance at the clock, he groaned.

Two hours later and he still hadn't slept. Dragging himself out of dull, grey sheets. He trudged into his office, tugging at the light switch. Greyish, lavender eyes fluttered and squinted in the sudden, yellow light. He sighed to himself, slumping over the table as he began to continue writing.

.

.

//Timeskip//

.

.

Walking in to the small office, the girl sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Poe-Kun, did you not sleep again? Are you awake? Cold? Do you need a blanket?" she fussed, walking closer.

All she heard in response was soft snoring which somewhat warmed her heart. She smiled to herself, wrapping her arms around him as he continued to sleep, "Do you need me to help you get back to sleep?"

He stirred, feeling the warmth of someone against him. He flushed red in embarassment,

"(L-L/n).." he stammered, before realising the situation.

He began to panic mentally, scrambling to get away. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable by having her hold him so close for too long.

"Ah, Poe-San, how was your sleep?" she smiled, picking him up with incredible ease,

"I-I didn't realise I fell asleep.." he admitted, giving up on resisting and resting into her warm hold.

"That's okay, when did you last know you were awake?" she continued, walking into the hallway, "Ah- Which one is yours again?"

"I think.. I think I fell asleep at maybe.. Four?" he managed, casting back his memory, "I-I can walk myself, (L/n),"

"Poe! You need to sleep more," she scolded, "No, I'll carry you; you're tired, anyway,"

"I-I couldn't sleep.." he sighed, pointing to a room, "That one's mine,"

"Why couldn't you, Poe? What's bothering you?" she cooed, walking into the right room and placing him on the bed. Digging through his drawers, she looked for some nightwear for him to wear.

"(L-L/n), I have work to do-"

"How are you going to do work passed out, huh?" she retorted, throwing a confortable looking pair at him,

"You don't have to do this, you know," he whined, the girl standing outside to give him privacy.

"Poe, I care about you and I know that you need sleep; and that means you're getting to sleep whether you like it or not," she sassed, "I came by to drop off a cake I ordered for you, and noticed you weren't around,"

"R-Really? ..Y-you care, (L/n)..?" Poe whispered, ready to get some sleep as he reopned the door,

"I.. I mean.. Yeah.." she blushed, rubbing the back of her neck awkardly. He noticed that she was dressed in a blouse and skirt apposed to her uniform, and realised what she said was quite true. "A-anyway, what was bothering you, though?"

"I felt.. Really warm.. And my face was really red, and I couldn't stop thinking about someone.." he admitted, too awkward to say it was her.

"That means that.. You're in love," she smiled, eyes holding an underlying sadness.

"O-oh.." he whispered, before the lady tucked him into his sheets,

"Would you like some tea to help you sleep? Biscuits? Anything at all?" she offered, eyes plain.

"C-could--" He cut himself off, realising how absurd his answer would seem to her, "Could you open the window for me?" She nodded, smiling and granting his request.

"I'll stick around, just in case you need anything, okay?"

"O-okay.."

His mind still raced. She cared about him. About his wellbeing. About his happiness. It made his heart flutter, the butterflies in his stomach intense. He wove his hand in Karl's soft fur, hoping to relieve his mind of such thoughts. Every once in a while, he noticed she would come and check in on him, only to get flustered and scold him when he was still awake.

How could he not be?

He was conflicted over her; did he love her? Or was it just that he wanted to be friends, and his social anxieties over exaggerated the situation, feigning admiration as infatuation?

Who was he kidding? Of course he loved her. Afterall, he was fixated on her. Wanting to be close to her, to be near her. He was quite comfortable with her, seeing as she was his maid and (possibly) his friend.

Curling up, he decided to just close his eyes and hope to fall asleep, before hearing the door open. He knew the familiar scent of lavender from anywhere; (L/n). She came to check on him again, moving closer.

Poe held his eyes shut, no matter how desperately he wanted to gaze at her beautiful features, he should have been sleeping. She brushed away the dark hair covering his eye, smiling down at him softly.

"Dammit, why do I have to love you?" she whispered, "You're my boss; I shouldn't be feeling like this towards you."

Poe felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment. It went unnoticed, the lady continuing to speak,

"I mean, you're the one I work for; surely it would be awkward if we were together.." she sighed, still relatively quiet, "But you're just too darn cute.."

He cracked open one eye, holding out his arms for her to fall into, "I.. I love you too.." he whispered, wrapping his arms around her loosely. She melted into his hold, taken aback by his confidence. Whilst he had stuttered, he also engaged in physical contact; something she was quite proud of him for.

"O-oh.." she said, realising his words as her face grew redder, "You heard all that?" Poe nodded against her back, having sat up to be closer to him. He felt the drowsiness he should have felt the previous night hit him like a train, finding himself almost unable to keep his eyes open.

"I-I'm tired.."

"Anything you could do with to help you sleep?" the (h/c)ette smiled jokingly.

"C-can you stay here..?" he whispered into her neck, having burried his face into her shoulder, "I-it's kind of comfortable.."

"Sure thing, Poe-Kun," she smiled, laying back down as the shy author snuggled closer to her, drifting into a much needed sleep.

[managedmischiefs]

overworked//tom holland

As soon as I saw the paparazzi pictures, I knew something was wrong.

Tom is always the happiest guy alive. He's so grateful for all he has in life, and he's grateful for fans.

But he's human. He gets tired. He gets angry, frustrated, annoyed. The fans seem to forget that. But the fans aren't the only ones to blame.

Tom has been hard at work on Spider-Man: Far From Home, his first lead role in a movie. He's the hardest worker I've ever met. But one of his fatal flaws is that he doesn't know when it's time to work, and when it's time to play.

I decided to join him and Harrison in Atlanta for filming this time around. I saw him work himself to exhaustion on Homecoming, and I wanted to prevent that as best as possible. However, this decision backfired.

My mum wound up getting seriously injured back home in London, so I had to leave Atlanta after just two weeks to help out my family. Tom was incredibly supportive of this decision, sending his love to me and my family.

But since I went home, that meant I couldn't be there to look after Tom. Sure, Harrison is there, and his cast loves him beyond belief, but Tom has told me that he's opened up to me in ways that he's never done with anyone else.

I talk to him every day. The time difference sucks, but we make it work. We text, call, FaceTime, anything we can do to stay in touch.

But, then the Spider-Man cast had to travel to LA. The paparazzi pictures spread like wildfire. Tom looks absolutely exhausted, barely even cracking a smile as he signs things for fans. I can see the exhaustion in his eyes.

I called him as soon as I knew he'd be available, and he claimed he was fine. He's very hard to get to open up, so I let it go.

Tom is finally coming home. He's been gone for almost three months. Our house is so empty without him, and honestly, Tessa doesn't like me as much as she loves Tom.

I clean the whole house the night before his plane lands, immensely excited to see him. Tessa is going crazy. I think she somehow gets my Tom vibe.

I dress myself in simple jeans and a sweatshirt to go to the airport, tying my hair into a top knot. I promise Tessa I'll be back soon with her dad, grabbing my keys and leaving.

I text Tom and Harrison to let them know where I am, leaning against the wall as I get a smiling emoji back from my boyfriend.

I see the crowd of fans before I actually see the boys. There's flashing lights- maybe a few paps- and lots of girls (and guys) screaming and screeching.

I sigh, standing up straighter and pulling a pair of Tom's sunglasses out of my pocket. I know he always seems to forget them, but always seem to need them.

His hood is pulled up over his head, a clear way of trying to hide himself. However, it clearly didn't work.

Tom gives a fake smile to some girl as she shoves a sharpie in his face, holding out a Spider-Man poster. Harrison is giving me a wary look, but knows to stick by Tom's side.

After a few minutes, Tom has pushed his way through the fans. He makes a bee line for me, and from the distance, I can already see his bottom lip quivering and his eyes a bit red.

I give him a small smile as he drops his bag on the floor, to which Harrison immediately picks it up.

Tom's body hits mine relatively hard, his arms wrapping around my waist. My arms go around his neck, blocking his face from any prying eyes.

I immediately feel Tom's body start to shake, and hear a few sniffles. I sigh, running my fingers through his hair.

"I know, I know." I coo, giving Harrison a smile over Tom's shoulder. "It's okay. I'm here now. You're okay."

Tom nods against my shoulder, sniffling again. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, no." I protest, tugging on the ends of his hair a bit. "Why don't we get home, okay? I brought some sunnies for you, we can drop Harrison off, and we can go home and cuddle with Tess, and watch a movie, how does that sound?"

Tom nods again, taking a long breath before lifting his head. I quickly cover his eyes with the tinted glasses, protecting him from any crazy rumors as to why he's crying in an airport.

I give a quick hug to Harrison as Tom picks up his bag again. I lead the two boys to my car, luggage in the boot, Tom in the front and Harrison in the back.

Tom leans his head against the window, eyes closed. I keep the music very low, knowing my boyfriend is sensitive right now and I want him to stay calm so he doesn't blow up.

I drop Harrison off at his apartment, giving a gentle smile. The drive back to our house is silent. Tom had turned off the music.

Tom's eyes droop as he pushes himself out of the car and to the boot, hoping to grab his suitcase. "I got it." I promise, pushing on his side gently. "Go in, say hi to Tess. Lay on the couch."

Tom nods without any protest, tossing his backpack over his shoulder and dragging himself into the house.

I lug his case into the entryway, letting it fall beside his backpack. I find Tom on the couch with Tessa, the dog curled up in his curled legs with her head on his thigh.

Tom looks up and smiles softly as I come and sit beside him. He immediately moves to rest his head on my shoulder.

"Now will you talk to me?" I whisper, tangling my hand in his curls. "What's wrong?"

Tom sighs, his face buried in my neck. "It's just so much work. So much. I never get a break." His voice starts to crack. "I can't do it."

I nod, holding him as close as I can possible bare. "I know it's hard, baby, I know."

"Everyone expects so much from me. I can only give so much." Tom has this habit. Once he starts talking, it's very hard for him to stop. "I do everything I can and it's not good enough!"

"You can't please every, Tommy. You please the people who are important to you." He lifts his head from my neck, looking at me with big, bloodshot brown eyes. I let my fingertips graze over his jawline, smiling softly. "You can please yourself, you can please me." Tom smiles just a little bit. "That's all you can do. A lot of people expect a lot, we know that. But you need to stay sane. And with that, comes taking care of yourself. Or letting me take care of you-"

"Because you love doing that so much." Tom responds sarcastically.

"I do love taking care of you." I rub my nose against his, eliciting a small laugh from Tom. "How long are you home for?"

"A week." Tom sighs, pulling away from me completely, standing from the couch.

I follow after him, allowing him to lead me towards the stairs. I catch Tom once he's gotten up a few, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"Then you have seven days at home, right?" I whisper. "You have seven days to do whatever you want, whoever you want."

Tom turns around in my embrace, his eyebrows raised. "Are you really going to make me feel better through sex?"

"Worth a shot." I shrug, which makes him laugh again. "But really, you have seven days- a week- to sit at home and relax, or go out with your friends, or see your family-"

"Or have sex with you." Tom mocks, smirking. "Thank you, though. You always know how to make me feel better."

"I try my best." I shrug casually, smiling.

"Now if you're still up for that sex?"