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wntrs0ldier · 9 months

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AN OFFER II · 03

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3k warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, mature themes, dark themes, language, fluff, boyd holbrook as clint barton.

“You like that girl, huh?” “I've already told you as much as you should know,” he stated with no hesitation, his eyes still locked on you. But Sam knew more, much more. He wasn't blind. Or clueless.

series masterlist

The heat of the evening clung to your body even before you slammed the car door behind you, making you immediately miss the air conditioned interior you hadn't had time to fully enjoy. You blamed the insufficiently long distance between your gallery and the suburbs where Steve's house was located, and the fact that you had to make a solid effort in the back seats, changing your office clothes for the light summer dress that Bucky had supposedly prepared for you – Parker had delivered such a message to you along with the dress when he came to pick you up for work.

You headed to the garden at the back of the house, where numerous conversations were coming from, merging into one incomprehensible gibberish of dozens of voices, and the smell of smoke hung in the air.

Having spotted Steve walking towards you, you put on a wide grin.

“Happy birthday.” You tied your arms around his neck, and Steve rubbed your back.

“Thanks,” he laughed quietly.

You pulled away and handed him a bottle of wine. “And this is for you.”

“Bucky’s already given me the gift from both of you," he assured with a slightly dim smile. Steve was doing his best to show his gratitude, but you could well see how uncomfortable he was. If it was up to him, the party would have had nothing to do with his birthday – fireworks and a few loved ones would have been enough.

“Yeah, I know…” You scratched your neck. “But I didn't want to come with empty hands.”

“Alright.” Steve's smile took on a bit lighter expression. “Come on,” he said, nodding encouragingly. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Oh, I'd love to,” you huffed with relief.

It was even hotter by the grill. Steve flipped a couple of sizzling steaks over, then reached into the coolbox, filled with melted ice and beers bathed in it, and handed you a wet bottle – pleasantly cold in your hand. It hissed as he opened it for you, and specks of drink fell barely perceptible on your skin. With the drink brought to your lips, you looked around; you didn't expect to find anything in particular, but your eyes instinctively landed on a familiar figure.

Holding his own beer in a loose grip, Bucky was talking to some woman. At least that's what it seemed to you at first; it soon became apparent that he was actively listening to her, and fighting with himself not to look bored.

His hair, tied back in a bun, exposed his face – slightly weary eyes, flushed cheeks and wet, shiny lips. Your own stretched in a warm smile as you watched the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on, remembering that he had once asked you to call him yours. And so he was yours.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Clint approaching. “Howdy, Y/N,” he spoke in a voice so not concise that you were able to judge how much alcohol, more or less, he had managed to take in. Enough to embrace you casually, draw you closer and place a juicy kiss on your cheek, his lips wet and sticky. On the other hand, as a matter of fact, Barton did not need alcohol to behave like this. “It's not nice to be late, don’t you think?”

“Hi, Clint,” you replied when you finally had the chance to do so. You carefully moved him away from you – you didn't mind that he was stuck to you, but you had to get rid of the additional source of heat as soon as possible. Nevertheless, Clint's arm remained glued to your shoulders. “I wasn't late,” you stated lightly. “I was here all the time. You just didn't see me.” You raised your eyebrows with conviction.

Clint furrowed his forehead. “No…” he said doubtfully. “That's not true…”

“No?” you dug deeper, driving Clint further into confusion.

“Clint,” you heard. The exact moment of Bucky's appearance escaped you, but given the length of the conversation you had with Barton, he had just approached the two of you. “Stop fucking harassing my wife.”

“I'm not harassing your wife,” he protested, taking his arm away. “And I don't know what she's doing, but she's terrorizing me.”

Bucky, unfazed, watched Clint in silence.

“Okay, okay…” Clint muttered, leaving.

You watched him for a moment, until you brought your gaze back to Bucky – you caught his eyes bore into you uninterrupted, and the corners of your mouth lifted involuntarily, mirroring his gentle, somewhat enigmatic smirk.

“Could you heat up something for her?” Bucky turned to Steve, who nodded in response. “Thanks.” He patted his shoulder, then reached out a hand to you, which you accepted without hesitation. He pulled you carefully toward a long, set table that, with a few stains and general disorder, gave away what stage the party was at. “I saved you a seat,” Bucky said, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. A gentle smile sneaked onto your lips again. The fact that he had done something seemingly insignificant with you in mind was all it took. “You look nice,” he added, pulling the chair out for you.

“You think?” You raised an eyebrow, and Bucky laughed softly. He put down the bottle he had been holding, took a seat next to you and threw his arm over the back of your chair. “Did you pick the first dress you got your hands on, or did you actually go through my entire closet?”

“I liked the flowers.” He shrugged subtly, his eyes briefly tracing the tiny pattern adorning the dress. “I thought you'd want to change into something more comfortable. And something more airy, because it's fucking hot,” he continued. “And, well…” he murmured, lifting his eyebrows. “It shouldn't be worn with a bra, because of-” He pointed at his own shoulders, but was hinting at yours, bare and uncovered. “So, it's actually a gift. From me. To me.”

You snorted, then shook your head disapprovingly. “You really know about these things, huh?”

“Your knees gone weak yet?”

“Almost.” You demonstratively waved your hand before your face. “You're on the right track, that's for sure.”

The party was going on at its own lazy pace.

With the excuse of needing to use the toilet, you left the table – where Steve, Sam and Clint had joined you in the meantime – and went inside the house to the empty, peaceful kitchen. You provided yourself with a glass and filled it with cool water – a pleasant change to the beer you had previously consumed.

To your surprise, Bucky also showed up in the kitchen. He peeked into the room, and having noticed you standing by one of the counters, he stepped inside. His arms crossed on his chest, he watched you without saying a word.

“Hmm?” you murmured, your lips hugging the rim of the glass. You moved it away from your mouth, and, thinking nothing of it, pressed it to your neck. For a brief moment, Bucky's eyes jumped to the cold, foggy glass resting against your warm skin. He quickly regained the concentration with which he had come.

“You alright?” He grunted, his mouth set in a hard line.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Why..?”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know. But what I do know,” his eyebrows rose, “is that you’re hiding here. What are you hiding from, Y/N?” He took a step closer. “From me..?”

You tilted your head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

His intense stare was burning a hole in you when he looked at you like that – interested in your reactions, your behavior, your feelings, it was studying every inch, every muscle, every twitch; his eyes were wandering all over your face and body, searching for honest answers, the reasons behind your decision. “Am I wrong?”

After taking another sip, you put your glass down. “Don’t do that, Jamie. Because I see what you’re doing, you’re trying to crush me.” You folded your arms. “Don’t treat me like the people you do business with.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, a corner of his mouth lifted, forming a proud smirk. “Smart girl,” he hummed. “But I will do that, since you won’t talk to me.”

A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. “I just-” you hesitated. “I needed a little break.”

He got even closer, his hips pinning yours down to the counter. You gasped quietly, feeling a hot blush spreading all over your cheeks.

“Listen, baby,” Bucky started, his voice low. He licked his bottom lip, then drew it between his teeth, leering at you. “If I have to talk to you, you have to talk to me. Gotta know everything that's going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Your mouth went dry, so you swallowed hard. “And w-what if you hear something you won't like?”

Bucky sized you up. “Don't get too curious.”

After sunset, the garden was illuminated by lights positioned low on the lawn, and there was no trace of the heavy stickiness in the air from a few hours before.

For a short moment, you disappeared from Bucky's radar, but it only took him a few glances – a couple of casual looks around – to bring you back into his field of vision. He found you among clearly excited women, grinning from ear to ear – mistresses, girlfriends, fiancés and wives of other gangsters. They swarmed around you, forming a delighted ring, chirping solely about those topics that concerned your new role.

"Show us the ring. Oh, it's beautiful."

"How was the wedding? No one was invited."

"We were losing hope that Bucky would ever settle down."

"Where did you spend your honeymoon?"

"How did you spend your honeymoon?"

The division between these several groups – mistresses, girlfriends, fiancés and wives – was clear but not striking. Wives always stood at the top of the hierarchy, being a little calmer and more toned down. Fiancés, on the other hand, radiated the strongest enthusiasm – unlike girlfriends, they felt much more secure in their position, and, like wives used to be, were still hopeful and optimistic about the future.

"You know, don't worry if he gets a mistress. It's a bit shocking at first, but mistresses are only there to please them. Nothing more than that."

"Exactly, they just need fresh meat.”

"Especially after children come along. Then it's even better for you. You won't have the energy or appetite anyway."

"It doesn't have to be that way. Stop scaring her."

"It doesn't have to be that way, but it's always better to be prepared for it."

"Someone like Bucky Barnes definitely needs a lot of attention. He has a lot on his plate. And you'll have to take care of the house, the kids and your husband? Oh, and I hear that you have a job?"

"But you will have your children. Children are great."

"Unless they grow up. Teenagers are-"

"Last time, I couldn't leave Mason in the daycare. There was an outbreak of stomach flu."

"Oh, poor thing."

Bucky, watching you standing in the center of that crossfire, saw you shrinking more and more. For a short while, it seemed to him that there were some advantages to this whole situation; that you were socializing with the people from his environment. But he finally realized that you were actually uncomfortable – he concluded this especially after you emptied an entire glass of unspecified liquid in one gulp. From the grimace on your face, he figured it surely contained percentages.

But perhaps it had to be that way – perhaps you had to learn the hard way that it was in Bucky's company that you felt safest.

With a hand shoved in his pocket, and the other embracing his beer, Sam stood next to Bucky. “What are you doing?” he asked; after all, Bucky was standing by himself, staring at a group of women.

“Looking.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But why?”

Bucky shrugged. “I like looking at her.”

Sam’s forehead creased as he once again glanced at the women. Only then did he understand who was the target of their attention. He smiled to himself and shook his head. “You like that girl, huh?”

“I've already told you as much as you should know,” he stated with no hesitation, his eyes still locked on you.

But Sam knew more, much more. He wasn't blind. Or clueless. “Okay, okay…”

“Alright. I'm going to rescue her,” Bucky said, lifting his cup to his mouth. “Before they eat her alive.” He left the empty cup on the table he had been leaning against and walked in the direction of the group. They went quiet as he approached, then burst out again with excitement, welcoming him.

Bucky caught the look of relief and gratitude on your face. He put his arm around your waist and rubbed your lower back affectionately. You rested your hand on his torso and continued listening to the questions and delights flying around in the air. Bucky didn't want to be rude, so he didn't pull you away from there right away. However, when he was right next to you, you felt a surge of new strength that allowed you to bear it all for a little longer than you thought.

A few big grins and forced laughs later, Bucky finally escorted you out of the group. The two of you stayed attached to each other as he led you slowly in some unspecified direction – as far away as possible from the force that sucked you in, chewed you up and spat you out.

“Are you okay?” Bucky chuckled softly, caressing your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you replied immediately, but somewhat barely conscious.

“Wanna go home?”

“Oh yes, please.”

As you stopped at the entrance to the bedroom, Bucky lifted his eyes from his book and bore them into you – your hair was still slightly damp from the shower, and only the thin fabric of a short nightgown separated him from a direct view of one of his favorite things on Earth – your naked body. Thinking very little, or rather, thinking about nothing but one thing, he closed the book and put it down on the bedside table.

“What's with the face? What’s wrong?” he asked.

You climbed onto the mattress and sat on your bent knees, resting your hands on your thighs. Bucky reached for one of them; he grabbed it loosely and stroked your knuckles. He looked at you, waiting, but with the same patience he had always had for you.

“I'm just wondering," you began hesitantly, clenching your fingers on his in a nervous impulse, “if you're planning on having a mistress. Or... mistresses,” you added barely audibly; your voice failed you as soon as your mind realized what was actually coming out of your mouth.

Bucky’s brows drew together. He slowly sat up, bringing himself closer to you. The thought of him downplaying the problem, dodging the subject or laughing in your face made your muscles tense.

“Well-” he began, his forehead slightly furrowed. He didn't speak for just a second, but that much was fully enough for you to process the hundreds of ways he would give you an affirmative answer. Of course I am, but it’s for the best, or Baby, you didn’t really think I would be faithful, right? Or One girl is just not enough. “It happens,” Bucky said carefully. “And it is considered completely normal with the life we lead-”

You nodded hurriedly. “Yes, I realize that.” You knew it; after all, you came from the same environment. Did your father happen to cheat on your mother? You remembered that your uncles, who were not really your uncles, happened to show up with newer and newer aunts. “But I'm not asking how it works. I'm asking about you.”

“I'm not planning on having a side chick,” despite the fact that this time he didn't even think for a second, he sounded calm. “Not, since I already have the most gorgeous girl I could come across,” his tone and blank expression proved that he was not trying to sugarcoat or pull the wool over your eyes; he was just honest.

You lowered your gaze to your hands, to the inside of one, where a now faded scar was drawn – the same as in Bucky's hand.

“You are saying that because we are in the honeymoon phase and the sex is still good,” you stated. “But what about later? I'll have to take care of the house, the kids, my job. I won't have the energy to give you the attention, and you will eventually need some fresh meat-” you babbled, forgetting to breathe. You closed your eyes and hid your face in your hands, coming to the conclusion that you had let them mess with your mind. You even used the same words as them.

Bucky gently wrapped his fingers around your wrists and pulled them away from your face, then cupped it and made you look at him. Stroking your cheeks tenderly with his thumbs, he watched you with a hardly visible but soft smile – a smile full of understanding. “If,” he emphasized, “you'd like to take care of the house and... everything else, but couldn't handle something, we can hire a housekeeper, a nanny or a fucking assistant, alright? As for the sex…” A crooked smile crept onto his lips. “I would rather not involve any outsiders, hmm?”

A peace of mind you didn't expect to experience with this particular issue washed over you. You were blown away by Bucky’s ability to bring you that much calmness. And perhaps you were naive, but you believed him – you trusted that he would never hurt you in this way.

You nodded, the corners of your mouth turned up shyly.

“Attagirl,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead. “If there’s something that scares or upsets you, tell me about it. And we'll figure it out,” he added, his lips still on your skin. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair.

You tilted your head back a little so that you could look at his face. Again, he stroked your cheeks with his hands, as if correcting their placement, and gave you another gentle smile. Then, without a second thought, you climbed onto his thighs, and, hugging his neck, clung tightly to his body. Having closed his arms around you, Bucky pressed you to his chest and started caressing your back. Feeling his touch, his warmth, the beating of his heart, you melted.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year

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AITA for calling the cops (twice, kind of) on someone in a car who swerved at me on the side of the road?

(Disclaimer: I hate cops. But I felt extremely threatened and wasn't going to let this go without something happening.)

I am a high school student and have not yet gotten my license, and therefore cannot drive alone. To get to school I ride an electric scooter, it looks a bit stupid as a high schooler but it is the only way possible for me to get to school on time. (I have a class before school in the morning, and both parents have work.) I've been doing this for over three years and have had no problems until recently.

Two or three weeks ago, I was on my way home from school. I noticed a car approaching from behind, and moved to the very edge of the road as I would normally. I was literally in the gutter on the side of the road, nowhere near where cars would be. This car, however, then sped up rapidly and swerved within 2-3 feet of hitting me. Probably not trying to actually hit me, but clearly trying to scare me or something of the sort. The person in the passenger seat was screaming the whole time.

The car sped off (I should mention that the speed limit on this road is 25 mph, and the car was going at least 50-60 mph) and after standing in shock for a moment I followed them home since they apparently lived in my neighborhood. I caught two teenage boys leaving the car, and asked if they had been in that car and had swerved at me on the road. They denied everything and went inside the house.

I went home and after a short while, came back with my father to back me up. Asshole move from me, I know, but he insisted on going in case the boys decided to get violent. I made him wait a short distance back, then rang the doorbell. Waited for a while, no answer. They were clearly still inside; the car was still parked on the road nearby and I hadn't been gone for long.

When they didn't answer, I then went home and called the police. I gave them the license plate number and the guy's address, and they said there had been reports of him speeding and being reckless before. The cops went to the house and yelled at them, and I thought it was over then. I most certainly did not want to press the issue any further, the shock and adrenaline was wearing off at this point and I just wanted to be done.

But several days later, I was sent screenshots of the driver of that car spreading hate about me on Snapchat for getting him in trouble. Now this is kind of difficult to explain, but I am unfortunately somewhat well known for riding an electric scooter to school. But up until this point, people just were aware of my existence. After the Snapchat posts and messages about me were spread, all of that turned into pure hate. Every time I was seen with that stupid scooter, people would scream that they wished I would fall and stuff like that. None of this had happened before, and I was (and am) miserable and scared. I don't feel safe anywhere around school because this is still ongoing.

I also tried to contact him via Instagram messages, to which he did not respond. That was three times that I attempted to contact him: first by following him as he was getting out of the car, second by ringing the doorbell, and third by messaging him.

Two days ago, I got my mom to pull me out of school early because I was feeling like crap after some particularly bad harassment in the morning. In the office as I was asking to sign out, I started crying in front of the school police officer, and she asked for the full story. I told her about the online posts and the catcalling and harassment I dealt with every day, and she took it very seriously. I didn't want her to do anything really, but she did anyway (I'm not upset about this honestly, it was probably a good thing). She said that the patrol officers usually didn't do much about stuff like this, but she could and would do a lot more.

She pulled the guy out of his class after I had left to go home, and in her words "put the fear of God in that kid"; telling him he should have lost his license and that since he was 18 he could face real consequences and go to jail for stuff like this. He has been told that he has to stay at least three feet away from me at all times.

Since then, he hasn't said anything to me in person, and hasn't posted anything publicly online. I still don't feel safe at school or anywhere in the area, but I've been taking an alternate route to try to avoid being seen and yelled at as much.

Am I the asshole? I honestly think we both might be, but I do feel somewhat justified by the fact that he at least got some sort of consequence for threatening my life like that and causing that level of problem.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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leftrightnomin · 1 year

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Please, Sir! || Yuta Nakamoto

Pairing: Yuta Nakamoto x Reader

Summary: You found yourself sitting at the dinner table of the Nakamoto household. Rest assured that you are safe for the night. Maybe.

Genre: Smut, Rated R (18+), Bestfriend's Dad x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up, ppl), Cheating (Yuta is married), Praise kink, Begging, Degradation, Fingering, Lots of dirty talking, Size kink, Oral sex (nky receiving), Dumbification,

A/N: Hi, did anyone miss me? Well, here's a little something for all of you. Enjoy!

~ • ~ •~ • ~ •~ • ~ •~ • ~

You had been trying to avoid going to the Nakamoto’s home. You were trying to avoid conflict with your best friend's smoking-hot father, Yuta. It wasn't like you were always around their home, Giselle lived in her own apartment. For that reason, you were thankful. When you were younger and in college you would often go over for dinner with Giselle or she’d go to your family’s house. But it wasn’t necessary anymore. You were both grown adults now with 9 to 5 jobs to attend to.

This time, however, Julia A.K.A Mrs. Nakamoto was throwing a small dinner party for their family, close friends, and relatives. Apparently, Mr. Nakamoto got promoted at his company and from what you heard, the newly acquired title comes with a six-figure salary. A big deal really. Giselle had told you that her mom and dad wanted you there.

Of course, your father would want me there. You thought.

It wouldn't be an actual crisis if you and Yuta weren't indulging in each other's warmth behind closed doors, away from his family's eyes. Or anyone at all. You'd have to be playing the poker face like crazy at the dinner table to protect what you and Yuta shared. Certainly, you wouldn’t do anything with him with all the people around.

But still, you are sure that you will be having a hard time pretending. Not now and obviously not sooner. Not when you've had a taste of the great Yuta Nakamoto. You were in for a long night now that you knew what he was like, how good he was, how wild he could get, and just how hot and filthy he could be.

You made the choice to use a panty liner solely because you thought it would be handy. Having your panties wet and also probably your pants or anything to show through your clothing wouldn't look good. You didn't anticipate needing it, but you were also aware of how frail you had become from a quick glimpse of Mr. Nakamoto.

If he even extended his hug or spoke to you in a deep, seductive voice or if he smiled too broadly while flashing those dimples, you were pretty well doomed. So, yes, for practical reasons, merely a just-in-case moment, you wore pantyliners.

You were picked up by Giselle as scheduled. The trip to The Nakamotos' home took close to 30 minutes.

"Are you alright?" Giselle maintained her focus on the road. She detected something about you. She simply had no idea what.

"Yeah. No doubt. Why?"

"You've been quiet since you got in my car. It reminds me of when we first met in junior high or worse," she chuckled as she hastily cast a short glance your way.

Prior to her arrival, you made an effort to relax. You calmed your stiff body and mind through meditation, chamomile tea, and a bite of dried ginger. You practiced some meditative yoga while listening to soothing background music. And you thought it was beneficial.

But as soon as Yuta's text message chimed into your phone, your pulse shot up and you started to sweat heavily. All that effort you put into calming yourself was for nothing.

He didn't say anything other than that he was anticipating seeing you after asking you if you were still coming. There it was. His communications contained nothing sexually explicit or provocative. Without trying, he did that to you. Hence the need for wearing pantyliners was a must.

You shook your head and laughed at your friend's remark. "No, I'm alright. Just worn out. Last night at the restaurant was a long one. Not exactly a lie, but I had barely arrived home by midnight."

And that appeared to be a suitable response. Giselle didn't inquire more about your strange behavior that evening at least.

There were Yuta's brother and his wife. The parents, husband, and cousin of Mrs. Nakamoto, a friend from down the street and a neighbor. Then, you and Giselle. That's it.

A delightful modest supper with dessert was served along with drinks. some musical selections. It was lovely to see everyone chatting while outside. However, you were agitated and making an effort to force yourself to stop staring at the man of the moment. Your cheeks and neck warmed up each time your sight met his, sending shivers down your spine.

Control yourself, Y/N.

It's a celebratory dinner for Pete's sake.

You shouldn't even be thinking of it.

You got along well with Yuta over dinner. He treated you as the best friend of his daughter. It was good yet at the same time you detested it.

You wished you could join everyone else in laughing at his jokes while sitting on his lap and encircling his shoulders. You desired to boldly kiss him in front of his crowd and hold his hand. But it was clear that wouldn't happen.

The man's wife was always close by. And after all, he was only secretly yours. With the door locked, in your apartment, and covered in fabrics. He was only yours in the absence of sight and hearing of others.

At supper, you barely gave him a glance as you were eating. Not even when he was speaking to everyone and expressing gratitude for their attendance. You restrained yourself from glancing at his face. You admired how his eyes sparkled and how his lips twitched, how he made motions with his hands and ringed fingers while he spoke, and most importantly, his smile. You knew it would only cause you trouble if you did.

At the conclusion of his little thank-you speech, he turned to face you and raised his glass. Along with the others, you raised yours skyward before taking a sip collectively eyes fixed on him. Even if it just lasted a few seconds, it made you warm. Hot enough to have your thighs pressed closely together beneath your white linen dress.

When everyone was mingling and strolling around the backyard, Yuta had the chance to walk up to you.

He placed his hand on your bare shoulder and whispered into your ear, "I missed you, sweetheart."

All of your encounters with her took place there at your residence. He sometimes spends a night there and even a whole full day.

However, you were scheduled to work and cover for a few servers who couldn't arrive for whatever reason because you had been busy. Additionally, Yuta was absent for nearly a week due to a business trip. Typically, you and Yuta met once a week at most. He hadn't spent any time in your bed in a few weeks.

It's true—you really did miss him.

"Do not leave until you and I are able to have a chat."

He squeezed at your exposed skin as he emphasized the word chat, and as he started to leave, he glanced down at you and winked.

A panty liner was indeed required.

You assisted Giselle in replenishing some of the empty bottles and replacing the cooler's ice. You made an effort to keep busy and avoid thinking about what Yuta wanted to "chat" about. Or suppose "chat" was a code word for something different.

At the gathering, a neighbor approached you and entertained you with his jokes. He appeared to be friendly and outgoing with everyone. You could understand his invitation and the Nakamoto's preference for him as a close friend. He was extremely hilarious. In fact, chatting to him and hearing his outrageous college narrative got you thinking back to your own experience while making you giggle. He assisted you in temporarily forgetting about your small taboo affair. He temporarily distracted you from Yuta.

Yet, Yuta didn't like how you and Johnny were laughing.

You were smiling when Johnny gently took hold of your forearm and moved in to speak to you. And so, when the man stood right next to you and your new friend, the brief respite you got from thinking about Yuta and swooning over him abruptly ended.

"Y/N, I need your assistance with something," He furrowed his brow and indicated the home, "Would you help me, please?"

Oh.

You took a breath and nodded, "Sure, Mr. Nakamoto."

You gave Johnny a courteous grin and walked with the broad-shouldered guy into his house.

Yuta escorted you upstairs and into a spacious bathroom which was never used in silence. He quickly ushered you inside and secured the door with a click sound of the door lock. He undid the cuffs from his pale pink button-up shirt while you watched in silence, then raised his eyes to meet yours as he rolled the material up his forearms.

"Isn't Johnny a great guy?" Yuta finally spoke up, leaning against the wide vanity sink with the wall-length mirror opposite him and crossing his arms over his wide chest.

"Yeah," you smiled sheepishly as you nodded, "He is nice. Funny too."

Yuta pursed his lips and slowly scanned your figure, taking you in.

He had seen your attire and had daringly glanced at you all evening, but he was unable to hold his stare for very long. Hence, nothing he experienced was gratifying. It wasn't enough to allow himself to see your ass's curvature or the point where your neck and jaw connected. He was now relieved that he was finally able to get the close look at you that he had been craving for all night.

"What were you two discussing?" Yuta jutted out his hips and displayed his stunning bulge for you as he uncrossed his arms and placed his palms on the marble top of the vanity behind him.

Acting with knowledge, I see.

"Well, sir, absolutely nothing actually. He was relating stories to me from his time in university. We were exchanging stories from college."

"Yeah? Did you discover after that the two of you have a lot in something in common?" He furrowed his brow.

You glanced briefly at his crotch before returning to his face. It was an uninvited glance. He saw where your eyes wandered, and even though you didn't mean to, it made him smile.

"No. Not really," you thought as you reciprocated his sly grin with your own and crossed your arms over your chest.

Over the months, you had grown to know him a little, and this small detail about him straight away made you feel at peace. He liked playing with you, teasing and building up your hunger for his heat.

"Why do you have a lot of questions about Johnny? Are you perhaps interested in him?" You crack a joke.

"No, I'm not," said Yuta, cocking his head and widening his grin. "Come, move closer."

You took the few sluggish steps necessary to narrow the distance between you two while biting your lip and uncrossing your arms. Your hips aligned with his as soon as you were within arm's reach of him.

"I'm just worried that I haven't been able to fuck you in what?" He then pulled you into him by your waist and said, "A span of three weeks?"

You chuckled softly and nodded, "Almost, 18 days to be exact."

Yuta smirked, "Counting the days without my cock are you?"

You placed your arms around his shoulders, saying, "Yes," with a big smile and a giggle. "I missed you so much, Mr. Nakamoto."

Yuta admired your lips briefly before returning her attention to your eyes, "Unfortunately, the house is crowded with visitors."

You frowned, "I'll be quiet, Sir. I promise."

"I bet you'd love for me to bend you over so I can fuck you right now in this bathroom, wouldn't you?" Yuta murmured in a low, raspy voice as he moved one of his hands up to your face and thumbed over your cheekbone.

You quickly separated your lips while nodding, "Yes, please, Sir. "

Yuta scolded, "So filthy. So fucking desperate. Do you need me that much, baby?" As you reached your tongue out to taste it, his thumb lightly touched your bottom lip.

You looked at his eyes with lust and a hint of greed. You needed his cock so bad. You wailed as you attempted to encircle his thumb with your lips, but he quickly withdrew his hand from your grasp. He was suddenly slipping between your legs and was pulling you such that you were pulled up onto the counter.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" he asks as his palms go underneath your dress and grab hold of your thighs.

Your words were breaths, "This morning."

"Really, how horrible was it? You don't seem to be content with anything. You used your fingers, right?"

"Yes, Sir. I used my clit sucker, too," you grinned and ran your fingers down his chest, "Pretended it was you between my legs."

Despite how cool he was behaving, you could see his dick hardening in his trousers and knew he was getting turned on.

"And you're still in such need? Does your little pussy require a lot of care or are you just pure filthy greedy for it?

"A little bit of both, Sir, " You let out a heavy breathe.

"I bet you're drenched as hell."

You gasped as you saw what he was about to find as his hands traveled upward toward your panties. Your wet underwear liner. Hardly that, seductive.

He stopped with a perplexed expression when his index finger touched the crotch of your pants. It felt unique not typical.

"Are you perhaps on your period, angel?" He said as he examined your underwear by pushing your legs apart and removing your dress.

When he ran his fingers down the edge of the cotton in your panty liner, he recognized what it was which earned you a light frustrated groan.

"No," you jerked your head. "It was only for keeping dry."

Yuta licked his lips and poked his middle finger beneath the crotch of your pants, and when he grasped what you meant, his eyebrows went up. Your underwear was dry, but the liner was sodden. As he kissed your lips, his fingers found your crease and softly played with it.

Both his fingers and the kiss were gentle and easy. He massaged your soaking pussy lips while you whimpered and ran your hands through his hair.

He kissed you briefly before removing his hands from your underwear and saying, "Like I said, our home is crowded with people."

"I bet your wet pussy would feel fantastic wrapped around my cock, right now," he kissed you soft lips once again. "I'm going to fuck my fist tonight thinking about how wet you got for me before I even touched you, princess."

"Please, Sir. Please." Angry, you yanked at his hands and begged, "I'll keep quiet, I promise. We can do it silently. I just —,"

You let your head down and closed your eyes tightly from too much need and frustration.

He raised you chin so that you could meet his equally lustful eyes, "Wow. Look at you. So frustrated and needy."

"I don’t know baby," you felt his hands on your thighs again. "I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He squeezed your thighs, his eyes growing darker and the bulge under his pants, pushing hard at his zipper.

“Please, fuck me, Mr. Nakamoto,"

"You’re the only one that can satisfy me,”

"I really need your cock,"

You were practically a mess by the time, begging so desperately for what you've been need the past eighteen days.

Yuta let out a laugh through his nose and shook his head, “Although that's a fact, I still think it's just too risky.”

Although he held your thighs firmly in place and used his pink tongue to moisten his lips as he peered down at your cleavage, his body language belied what he had just stated.

You were aware of the risk as well. However, you had another thought. You'd already politely asked him even added a please. He just wanted to continue acting as though he didn't care about you. He wanted you to beg for him.

And you did. Like a whore thirsty for cock, you desperately did.

"I want your cock, Mr. Nakamoto,"

"I don't think a toy will do for tonight,"

"I really fucking need your cock,"

He knew he had the upper hand, "You're gonna have to be patient little one."

You figured he'd hear you pleading with him once more. Of course, with a bargain in mind.

"Sir, I cannot wait now. It hurts," you pouted.

You brought his hand back to your front and held it in place, "Feel me, Mr. Nakamoto. Feel my aching clit hungry for your touch."

He shut his eyes and clinched his jaw as you stared. He was aware that you were playing with him to get what you want. After all, he was already wrapped around your tiny little fingers.

"Oh my sweet, sweet princess,"

"Would Johnny reject my request if I made it?" You asked with a raised brow as your last attempt of seducing him.

"You are such a fucking brat, princess," he shook his head, eyes glaring intensely at yours.

His comments sounded mean but they sounded so good to your ears. Accompanied with a smirk on his flushed face, he pulled your pants with its liner down your legs, tossing it onto the floor, and immediately undid his pants, pulling his cock out from the front of his briefs.

When you first saw his girthy, warm cock unconstrained, you couldn't help but groan. You moved to the edge and positioned your bare feet on the counter top so you were spread out and readily available for him to access as you reached down to touch him. Ready for him to ruin.

"Is this what you were hungry for?" Yuta already had lust in his eyes, His gaze was heavy as he eyed you and cupped his cock in his hand while holding his tip to your wet hole and asking,

"Mhmm," you hummed as you felt the tip of his pulsating cock.

"Wanted to be fucked by a married man in the guest bathroom?"

Fuck, his voice sounds so good.

"Wanted to get with my daughter and wife merely down there?"

So fucking good.

"Wanted me to fuck you with a house full of strangers wondering where I am?" Yuta's strong voice eventually broke through your tight muscle as he spoke lowly into your ear.

"Fuck, yes please, Sir." You desperately nodded, "I don't care if there's people downstairs. All I want is your cock."

"You better be true to your word, sweetheart." Yuta warned you. "Be quiet or else, I'll stop."

"Yes… yes," you mumbled as gently as you could and clung to his shoulders to keep yourself steady, as you gasped at the way his huge cock started to push past your soft and wet walls.

Yuta watched as his cock gently dipped inside your pussy and heaved a trembling breath mingled with a gasp. You were already so drenched in your own juice that Yuta could hear when he pulled back an inch before diving in even deeper.

"Fuck!"

"Can't help myself, Y/N. You're pussy is choking my cock so deliciously."

He started to push and cant his hips, sinking so far into your cunt that each time he came to the bottom, his balls hit you "My sweet girl is doing such an excellent job taking me in."

Yuta pushes in accompanied with either a soft groan or a whimper.

"Ugh, so tight sweetheart,"

Thrusts in.

"Fuck, yes,"

Pulls out.

"Ooh, more please,"

In.

"So good,"

Out.

You were relieved that the only sounds were gasps, pants, and the sound of a pussy being pounded.

Yuta leaned in so he could reach for your lips and fuck you slowly, trying his best to minimize the sound of skin sticking and slapping while you clung tightly to his shoulders.

Your limbs were starting to tire, and your head was spinning from too much pleasure. Your thighs were kept wide by Yuta's painful yet pleasurable grip.

"Fuck, Yuta," You gasped as he released one of your thighs and put his thumb to your clit exactly as you needed, "Right there, Mr. Nakamoto. Don't stop, please!"

This was one of the things you couldn't resist. He always understood your needs perfectly.

"Here?" He smirked as he started to lose rhythm while fucking into you. "Do I make you feel good, baby? Are you gonna come for me?"

"Oh fuck yes," you covered your mouth in an attempt to silence your moans. "So good, Mr. Nakamoto. You're cock fills so fucking good."

Your stomach started to burn and your thighs began trembling as Yuta's lips remained over your mouth and he kept rocking his hips in. You sobbed into his mouth and tightened your hold on his shoulders.

"Such desperate little whore you are," Yuta himself said in a tense, labored voice as he felt his balls contract. "Couldn't even wait for a couple more days,"

He always met his demise too quickly thanks to you. He felt like he was a horny teenager once again every time he was with you. There is no turning back when it comes to you. Your immaculate, tight and slick pussy, complete with bedroom eyes and full lips — he wanted it. He had a similar burning desire for you. He desperately need you.

“Desperate for you, Mr. Nakamoto," You panted and felt the hot decadence of your insides begin to unfurl as Yuta’s thumb expertly rubbed and circled your clit. "Want you so bad. I'll let you ruin me all day and all night."

He sensed you starting to close in on him and, anticipating your climax, "M'coming, Mr. Nakamoto. So fucking close, fuck!"

"Come for me, sweetheart," he covered your mouth with his. "Come all over my hard cock."

You saw stars and writhed onto his thumb as he continued to thrust into you with deep, powerful strokes while he kissed you hungrily. He was couldn't help himself back either at each twitch your cunt made and the slick noises of your pouring orgasm.

"Fuck, baby. I'm gonna come,"

"Come inside me, Sir," you caressed his hair as you came down your own high, "Give it all to me."

"Fuck," He rutted into you forcefully while panting into your mouth, shoving himself so deeply that his come could adequately coat every part of your body. "Oh, feels so good, Y/N."

He slowly drew away from you and then fucked himself back into you until he was balls-deep in you, all of his juices smothered your warm walls.

He pulled your legs up over his hips as he leaned in to kiss you, removing his thumb from your overstimulated clit and placing both hands on your thighs. His cock was still pulsing as he came down, and as he pressed his mouth against yours.

You laughed in his face, "Mr. Nakamoto, we were both desperate for release."

Knowing that he was in the same situation as you made you smile.

You finally dropped your legs as Yuta gently hissed at how sensitive he felt as he pushed himself away from the kiss. It wasn't the same, despite the fact that he had been torturing himself with thoughts of you every night. He desired your pussy to be content, just as you desired for his cock.

Not only his cock, either.

Him.

Mr. Nakamoto was essential.

It started to become an obsession. Your obsession.

Yuta brought his finger up to your lips after dragging it along the area where his come was starting to escape from you. He smiled at your greed as you quickly sucked his warm sperm from his fingers.

Your cheek was lovingly stroked by his knuckles as he said, "You are my sweet daughter, aren't you?"

You chuckled and gave him a sly smile, "You're just too hard to resist, Sir."

"What day off are you taking next?"

"Wednesday. Why?" You gave him an expectant smile.

"Stay free on that day." He handed you your underwear and casually stated, "I'm coming over," before pulling his pants back up.

"What if I already had plans that day?" You hopped down from the counter while grinning as your panties were being dragged up your legs.

He encircled you, palms flat on the vanity counter on either side of your hips lightly pinning you against the counter, "Cancel them."

Why would you refuse? You couldn't even though you should. You even loved to tease him a little, but you weren't going to anyhow. With him, you can never say no. It's the same way as he could never resist you.

"Okay. Fine. My scheduled has been moved, Sir. Considering how lost and hopeless you are without me."

Yuta shook his head and laughed through his nose, "Such a mouthy brat."

He gave you one final kiss before straightening himself up in the mirror and exiting the bathroom as if he hadn't just screwed his daughter's best friend while his spouse and other relatives were present.

You groaned and smiled as you turned to face the mirror. Such a mistake. But he was in such excellent spirits.

And even though he was married, you were well aware that he belonged to you.

#nct #nct127 #nctnation #smartist #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta #nct smau #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #nct u #nct universe #nctzen #czennie

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fakeboycorrection · 2 years

Text

Fakeboy storytime 3(I think?)

You wake up, tired and groggy, trying to remember what happened.

Last thing you remember, you were at the local gay bar. There were tons of dudes around you, but you had taken interest in one of the biggest guys in there. He was tall, handsome, and huge as hell, exactly your type....

Most of the guys around were twinks, a little feminine, or trans, like you. But not this guy. He was 100% masculine, and you loved it. You started flirting with him as soon as you saw him, and he seemed receptive. You were upfront with him about being trans and he was extremely respectful about it, still interested, though you were surprised at how much this shocked him. You never thought that you passed very well, but apparently he couldn't tell. Nice.

He offered to buy you a few drinks across the night, and you gladly accepted. You never considered yourself a lightweight, but the second drink he gave you, right after you got back from the bathroom, hit you hard. You were feeling tired. Confused. Dizzy. But he was kind. He offered up his water to you, took you outside, and got you in the back of his car, promising to get you home. You felt so nice and safe with him, slowly falling asleep in his car.

And now, there you were, waking up, strapped down to some kind of metal table. You felt like a piece of meat on display. You tried to yell out, but your mouth was gagged. You looked around. The room was dark and looked like some kind of basement. The walls looked thick and hard, and you weren't sure how deep you were. Wherever you were now, no one was going to hear you, even without that gag in your mouth.

You heard footsteps behind you. Slowly walking into your vision was the man from the bar last night. Your eyes suddenly widened as things started to make sense.... you couldn't believe how dumb you'd been. You'd fallen right into his hands.

"Well, good morning, sweetheart..." the man said. It was only then the you realized, you didn't even know this man's name, and he'd never bothered to ask yours. You two barely knew each other, and yet you'd been dumb enough to trust him this much...

"I'm sure you've already figured out where this is going, but if you haven't, I'll try to be upfront with you." He said, tearing off the small amount of fabric hiding your front hole from the world. You could only stare down in horror as he gazed at your body hungrily, getting ready to feast...

"Such a beautiful pussy... it's a shame that you hide it behind the disguise of being a girl." A wave of embarrassment washed over you. Not only was this man going to rape you, but he had lied about everything... he didn't even see you and crave you as a man, he wanted you as a girl. You struggled against your restraints, but it was no use. You were much too weak to break free.

The man started touching your pussy lightly, and you jolted up at the stimulation. "We're going to have plenty of fun, but I have another surprise to show you first..." he grabbed a remote from a nearby table and turned a monitor on, revealing a live camera feed of you, accompanied by a long list of chat messages.

"Say hello to your adoring audience, my beautiful girl..." the man smirked at you as your eyes flicked up and down, reading the chat messages. "They'll be giving me some... suggestions... on what to do with you tonight... you better hope they're merciful. Although, usually their arousal trumps any feelings of kindness they might have."

You read some of the messages.

'Fuck her pussy and make her cry'

'Breed her and leave the stream up 24/7! I want to see her swell...'

'Torture the bitch! She needs to know her place'

And there were some darker ones as well, some that scared you... some that made you worry that you'd never leave this basement again, if your captor decided to give in to those suggestions. You started shaking in fear, already crying, trying to plead with him their your gag.

"Oh? Feeling a little nervous about your first live performance? Don't worry, my dear... I'll start off slow with you, then ramp up over the next few weeks... but, by the end of this, I'll be doing literally anything they ask... I hope you weren't too attached to your freedom before this, because you can kiss it goodbye." He smiled, turning to read some of the messages for himself. "Ah, 'Make her admit that she's just a girl'. That's a good one... you did try to fool me at that bar, claiming to be a man and everything... you'll need some severe fixing for that." He started unbuckling his pants getting up onto the table and straddling your trapped body.

"Let's see how long it takes until you throw away all those silly "boy" thoughts, my pretty little girl.

You closed your eyes, trying to hide yourself from him in any way possible as he leaned in, kissing your neck and feeling up your sides. You could hear his throat growling quietly, right as his cock met the entrance to your front hole. Then, you heard him laugh.

"You're already wet for my cock? This might be easier than I thought..." your eyes shot open. Why the hell were you wet? You knew you weren't enjoying this, and yet...

You couldn't finish the thought as his cock entered you, deeper than you'd ever felt before. You'd only ever fooled around with other trans guys in the past, usually just doing stuff with your hands and mouths. But this... this was different... it felt like an entirely new experience. You felt your body betraying you, starting to enjoy the man's cock thrusting in and out of your pussy... you couldn't stop yourself from lightly moaning. The man just smiled down at you, proud of how easily you were being broken down.

"Such a good girl... your audience is loving it..." he grunted, thrusting harder. You couldn't deny it now, that it felt physically good, but in your mind, you were still terrified of him. Scared about what he might do to you in the days to come. Afraid of how far he might go. The chat wasn't scared of going too far though, as you read a few more messages, feeling his cock fill up every inch of you hole. You glanced over at it, reading more.

'Cum inside!'

'Never let this bitch go, she's taking it so well already. She's a keeper.'

'Get some of the toys out, this is boring'

And one more messages, the implications of which scared you more than you could ever have realized...

'Do you think he'll do an auction on this one, or just dispose of her when he's done? I'd love to own that piece of meat...'

Reading that made you realize that there were only two ways that this captivity was going to end, and neither sounded pleasant. You started to cry again, a harsh contrast to the incredible feelings happening inside your cunt. Your captor just laughed.

"Finally figuring out just how fucked you are, hm? Well, don't worry, I've got a gift for you..." he leaned in and bit your neck hard, probably drawing blood, until you finally felt a warm feeling filling up your insides, accompanied by his grunts. You could feel his cock pulsing as he filled you up with his load, to the point that it started dripping all over the floor, spilling out everywhere, such a massive load...

After nearly a minute of cumming, he finally pulled out, looking down to admire his work. "Yep, that's a properly used pussy... I'm sure you feel like a real "man" now, don't you cunt? Dripping cum out of your pussy, so 'masculine'." He said, laughing. "Well, that was fun, but we've got plenty more work to do." He got up and walked over to the monitor, reading through more chat messages. Your heart sunk as he looked through more and more messages, that just seemed to be getting more humiliating and violent by the second.

"Let's see... that one looks fun!" He said, pointing to a specific message. "Should help us break your dumb little boy thoughts..."

You read the message, and your heart sunk.

'Breed her.'

#detrans kink #ftm detrans kink #ftm girl #ftm misgendering #detrans female #ftm detransition #detrans ftm #fakeboy #detransition kink #forced detrans

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criminalmindsgonewrong · 1 year

Text

alternatively titled; emily prentiss deserves to be a mom.

tw: it is briefly mentioned that the unsub has lost a baby.

(this was supposed to be for @criminalmindsweek but oops guess its early because i'm stupid)

read on ao3, fanfiction.net or under the cut

They bluelighted their way down the street, tires screeching and marking up the road as the wheels bumped up the curb and the car came to a halt. Vaulting from the cars, four sets of feet pounded the pavement, guns at the ready, vests in place as they entered the building, stopping only to clear the area before moving swiftly from room to room.

Their case had taken them to a small town outside of Seattle. Somebody was kidnapping newborns, and nobody could quite figure out how. So while they'd been casing local hospitals, a call had come in that someone was acting suspicious in the neighborhood, carrying a car seat.

The witness had seen the suspect enter this building, but as they cleared room after room, it was evident that whoever it was had disappeared, apparently, into thin air.

"Clear," JJ's voice came over the comms, followed by Derek, mimicking her sentiment. Emily felt her heart beating quickly, as it always did as they cleared a scene, her senses on high alert. Hotch was a step behind her, which was a comfort, since she knew he had her back.

Heading up the stairs, she looked left then right with her torch and gun. Still nobody. Kicking open the only door she found at the end of the corridor, she stepped quickly into the room and the arm holding up her gun faltered.

"Prentiss," Hotch hissed from behind her, reprimanding her, but she shook her head.

"It's fine, Hotch, it's clear, but you've gotta see this."

As he stepped into the room, Aaron saw what had halted Emily, what had caused her to lower her weapon.

"How old do you think she is?" Emily asked, softly, from where she knelt in front of the car seat. The baby was asleep, her head lolling to one side, chubby cheeks pushed against her shoulder. She wasn't unsettled or screaming; in fact, she didn't look as though she'd been harmed at all.

"She looks perfect," Emily spoke aloud what Hotch had been thinking. She skimmed the baby, looked over her shoulder at Hotch, "Should I take her out and check?"

Hotch was frowning, holstering his own weapon as JJ and Morgan cleared the final rooms, and then headed up to them.

"Is that a baby?" Morgan asked from the hallway, "There's never been a baby left behind before."

"Maybe the unsub got spooked, dumped the kid and ran?" JJ suggested, crouching down beside Emily. She reached towards the baby, lowering her blanket, checking, Emily assumed, for any evidence.

"There's nothing," Emily shook her head, tilting it as she studied the baby, "Poor thing."

"Let's get her back to the station and have her looked over by a medic," Hotch said, "And get started on trying to find her parents."

"What the hell, Hotchner?"

From the moment they'd set foot onto the asphalt at the strip, the locals had made it well known how unwelcome they were here. Nevermind that they were only trying to do a job, no, they didn't care about that; as far as the chief of police and his squad were concerned, the BAU weren't just there to step on toes, they were there to trample them.

" Agent Hotchner," Hotch corrected, not for the first time. He stopped dead in his tracks, the car seat held securely in one hand. The glare he fixed the chief of police with was a clear message, but the chief went on glancing between Hotch and the baby, and the rest of the team.

"What the hell do you think I'm running here?" He demanded, his voice loud enough to stir the sleeping child, "A damn daycare?"

"You wanted us to leave the infant at the crime scene, Detective?" Emily raised her eyebrows, and the chief turned his eyes onto her. Emily didn't flinch, even as he stared her down, trying to intimidate her. She even smirked at him.

"You brought it here," He sneered down his nose at Hotch, as though seeing him carrying the car seat was something funny to him, "You take responsibility for it. My officers aren't babysitters."

" Her ," JJ corrected, shortly, as they filed past him and into the small room at the back of the station that they'd begrudgingly been assigned.

"What?" The detective didn't seem to care much for what any of them had to say, but his disdain for the girls was even more evident.

" Her." JJ repeated, unfaltering, "Not 'it '. Her."

"Yeah, whatever," The detective sneered, and turned his back on her. JJ glared at him, and then pulled out her phone, once again trying the social care number she'd dialed twice already in the car.

"Someone really should have a look at her," Emily was saying, her left arm folded tightly across her chest, her right thumb between her teeth as she anxiously gnawed at her skin, "Make sure she's alright."

They were waiting for the medics, and much as Hotch wanted to follow protocol, the baby had woken up and was staring at them all with wide, confused eyes. JJ sat beside her, speaking softly to her, but she wriggled and writhed and arched her back, frustrated by the constriction of the seat.

"Fine," Hotch nodded, and JJ reached for her instantly, pushing in the button to pop up the fastening and slipping the straps off of the baby's little shoulders.

"Come here, darling," The blonde smiled, lifting her out. She had assessed that the baby couldn't be more than six months old. Henry was coming up to eleven months, and was significantly bigger than she was, but she was too big and too wide eyed and alert to be much younger than six months, JJ said. So when she picked her up, the baby held up her own head, craning it to look at them all. Her wide blue eyes were focused and intent on staring at them, as though she were studying each face in turn.

"She's a cutie," Derek grinned, stepping up behind JJ and offering his finger, tapping at the palm of the baby's tiny hand with the tip of his finger. She grabbed it, and held fast, and he beamed at her.

"Yes, but who does she belong to?" Hotch sighed, from where he looked on, his arms folded across his chest.

"Have we considered this might not be related to our unsub at all?" Reid suggested, "Perhaps she was dropped off by her parents and left on purpose?"

"In an abandoned building, Spence?" Emily was shaking her head, "No, there are safe haven laws for a reason."

"While, yes, more than 3500 newborns have been surrendered through safe haven laws nationwide since 1999, over 1400 have also been found abandoned since then, too." Spencer offered up, and Emily grimaced from where she was leaning against the wall.

"Why would somebody do that when there's another option?" She mused, and she was speaking more to herself than to any of the others.

"JJ, try the social again," Hotch told her, and the blonde nodded, looking around the group. She met Derek's eyes and the grin fell from his face. He stepped back, holding up his hands as though in surrender.

"Okay, I'll do that," JJ said through an amused chuckle, "But somebody's gotta take the baby, guys."

To everyone's surprise, Hotch stepped up immediately, offering both of his hands. He and JJ, the only parents in their group, passed the infant easily between the two of them, and the surprise subsided as Hotch settled the little girl easily in his arms. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her little lips pressed tightly together, as though she wasn't sure whether or not to be afraid of the huge, stoic man into whose arms she had been settled. She gave a little cry, and then another. With the ease that only an experienced parent could muster, Hotch began gently rocking her, and she settled almost immediately.

Hotch, who had been focused on the baby, looked up and found four pairs of eyes fixed on him, their expressions ranging from shocked to impressed to amused.

"What?" He said, slightly defensively, "I'm a dad, remember?"

"I will now," Emily muttered under her breath. JJ laughed, but Hotch chose to ignore her, smirking to himself as he dropped his gaze back to the child.

"This is shaping up to be a very cute 1980s American Family Comedy," Morgan quipped, "but what's this little lady going to eat?" He grimaced, "And what happens when…you know, it comes out the other end?"

It was Hotch who grimaced, then.

"We've hit a dead end with the case," Emily posed, "Unless there's another abduction, we've got no leads besides what Penelope is searching up. We can spare an hour; why don't you and Reid find a department store and buy the supplies we need?"

"Sure." Morgan nodded, "Come on, man."

He and Spencer were halfway to the door when they both turned, quizzical expressions on their faces, and Spencer said, "What exactly do we need to take care of an approximately six month old for an unspecified period of time?"

Closing his eyes for the briefest moment, Hotch sighed. "Take JJ with you, too."

"You really are a natural, you know."

The others had been gone for half an hour and, after fussing for a while, the baby had fallen asleep in Hotch's arms. They were sitting at the table, Hotch leaning back in his chair to rest the baby against his chest. He'd shifted her so that her cheek lay against his shirt, and Emily watched them both with blatant amazement.

Hotch opened his eyes, which had drifted shut in thought and in the strange contentment that had come over him at having a small baby resting on him once again.

"Hm? Oh," he looked down at the small head just below his chin, "I wasn't when Jack was first born. It's something you learn. Parenting is the definition of 'sink or swim'."

Emily smiled at that comment, folding her hands under her chin, unable to take her eyes off of the sweet baby.

"What are we going to call her?" She said, softly, and Hotch gave her a quizzical look. Shrugging, Emily said, "Well, I don't want to keep calling her 'baby', do you?"

"She probably already has a name, Prentiss." Hotch said, but Emily just gave him a blank stare.

"Humour me." She said, and he knew she wasn't about to give him a choice, either way.

"What do you think we should call her?" He asked, certain she'd already come up with at least a few ideas.

"What about Molly?" Hotch scrunched up his nose, shaking his head. "Okay, not Molly. Amber?"

"No, that's not right, either," he shifted his head, tilting it to try and see her face better, and in doing so he missed the warm little smile that appeared on Emily's face; smug that she'd drawn him in, amused by his enthusiasm and glad to see the softer side of him come out. "What about Zoe?"

Emily tilted her head, reaching out with a gentle hand and brushing her fingertips over the downy blonde hair at the base of her neck.

"Zoe is good," she nodded, smiling, "We can call her Zoe until we find out her name."

Zoe didn't stay content for long. She woke up with a vendetta, and began screaming at the top of her lungs. Hotch tried everything that had ever worked with Jack; standing up, bouncing, bobbing, rocking, singing, burping. Nothing worked. He knew why.

"She's hungry," he said, through grit teeth as he gently patted her back over his shoulder, her screams hollering down his ear, "Where the hell are the others?"

"Okay," Emily stood up, shaking her head, "Give her here."

"What, why?" Hotch's eyes grew slightly wider as she held her hands out, reaching for the baby and wrapping them around her middle. He had no choice but to let Emily gently lift Zoe from his shoulder, tucking her into her own arms.

"Because," the voice that came out of her as she looked down at the baby but spoke to Hotch was not the voice of an impartial FBI agent, but of a soft and gentle maternal figure, "You're getting all ," she even put a sing-song tone on the word, dragging it out as she rocked Zoe back and forth. The baby went on screaming anyway. " All stressed. And Zoe doesn't like that. So you're going to take a break and I'm going to take a turn."

Hotch raised his eyebrows as he watched her, and even though she still fussed, Zoe did actually stop crying long enough to reach a tiny fist into the air. Emily smiled a triumphant smile down at her, not halting in the soothing song she'd begun to sing. At least not until Zoe found what she was looking for; her chubby fingers curled around one of Emily's dark curls and pulled .

"Mother-"

"Emily!"

"-goose." Emily pressed her lips together, closing her eyes as she dislodged one arm from beneath Zoe and detangled the baby's fist from her hair, "What did I ever do to you, huh?" She said, putting on a voice that only babies find amusing. It worked and Zoe's face split into a grin, her hunger momentarily forgotten, "What do you think you're doing?"

The giggle that came from the baby was rapturous and Emily's head shot up, her eyes, when they found Hotch's, full of surprise and pride.

"Did you hear that?" She asked, and he nodded, a small smile on his face.

"I heard it."

"We're back, we're back," JJ said, rushing in, laden down with two bags of shopping, Morgan and Reid following behind her, "I'm so sorry that took so long, it's rush hour. Has she been crying?"

"Yes but, oh my god, Jayje," Emily was saying, excited, "You just missed the most adorable laugh. Wait, let me see if I can get her to do it again. What do you think you're doing?"

But Zoe had been disturbed by the arrival of the others and was screaming again.

JJ disappeared (she had assigned Reid to make the bottle but when he looked at her blankly, she made a quip about him knowing everything except for anything useful, and then headed off to do it herself) and was back moments later, bottle in hand.

"Do you want me to feed her?" She asked, but Emily shook her head.

"Can I?" She asked, "I've never…"

JJ smiled, and nodded, showing her how to hold the bottle, how to keep the teat full to avoid giving the baby gas.

"She's probably old enough to hold her own bottle, but she'll let you know if she wants to do that."

Maybe it was the shock of the day, or maybe she was absolutely starving, but Zoe seemed perfectly content to let Emily feed her and had guzzled down over half of the bottle so quickly Emily was fearful that she might choke.

"She's fine," Hotch reassured her. Morgan and Reid both watched from a short distance away, as fascinated as Emily was by the baby, and JJ and Hotch watched their three colleagues with amusement.

"You have sisters who have kids, Morgan," JJ pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but I'm hardly ever home," he shrugged, "Guess I missed on the baby stage with the kids. Mostly on purpose, probably, babies terrify me."

"They're not so bad," Emily said, softly, staring down at Zoe's face as her eyes began to droop, the tip of her little finger gently stroking her cheek, "She's milk-drunk."

"Oh, they get so cute when they're milk drunk," JJ rushed to her side, peering over Emily's shoulder, and Morgan watched both women with furrowed brows.

"Estrogen, huh, kid?" He joked to Spencer, earning him a glare from both Emily and JJ, but neither of them commented, turning back to the baby, instead.

It was then that Hotch's phone rang.

"Garcia? Uh-huh. Right. Thanks." The others knew what was up before he'd even hung up the phone, "We've had a hit. Attempted abduction of a newborn one town over."

"Attempted?" JJ frowned, and Hotch nodded.

"Security has been increased, someone stopped the unsub, they passed the baby to the guard and made a run for it."

"Guard was holding a newborn," Morgan offered up, "Didn't want to chase-what are you doing?"

Emily had stepped up to him and was gently lowering Zoe into his arms. Before he could protest, Morgan was holding the baby, who had been disturbed from her subdued state and looked up at him, another new face, with wide eyes. "Prentiss?"

"It's your turn to stay with her," she told him, handing the bottle to him, too "You and Reid." Then, with a shrug, as she grabbed her blazer from the back of a chair, she added, "Wouldn't want JJ and I to get too overwhelmed by all that estrogen , would we?"

And she was out of the door after Hotch and JJ before Morgan or Reid could protest.

"It's definitely your turn now, man." Derek insisted, but Reid shook his head.

"Absolutely not," he was pouring over the case files and fooling absolutely nobody.

"Man, I know you memorized those files on the plane. You're not reading anything, you're just avoiding baby duty, now would you please hold Zoe? I have to pee." Reid looked up from the manila file, his eyes narrowed.

"You used the bathroom an hour and twenty minutes ago at the store and I've not see you take a drink since."

"You-you track that sort of-? You know what, I don't even care, Reid, but I need you to take this baby before I smack you upside the head, okay?" He held his arms out, but Spencer hopped down from the table and backed quickly away. "Reid-stop it, take the-" Derek followed him around the table, but with the baby in his arms he couldn't jostle her too quickly, and Reid was quicker as he stepped out of the way each time Morgan approached.

"Derek," he was saying, "Stop it. I don't want to hold the baby. I'm not going to hold her."

"She's just a baby , what's the worst that could happen?"

"Then why do you want to get rid of her so badly?"

"She stinks , man."

Reid paused, then gave a short burst of laughter. "Oh, no, you're not palming that job off on me."

Morgan was scowling, "This is why Emily left." He was grumbling under his breath, turning his face away from Zoe, as though he could avoid the smell coming from her diaper.

"Babies are disgusting," Spencer commented, looking at Zoe, laying on a blanket on the desk, as though she were a bomb about to explode. She was looking up at them, smiling and kicking her feet, like she thought they were playing some kind of game.

"It's okay," Morgan, standing beside him with his hands on his hips, said, "It's gonna be fine. It's just like-it's easier if we take it in steps, right?"

"Right." Spencer nodded. "So you take the first step."

Morgan glared at him, narrowing his eyes, before he sighed and stepped up to the desk, unfastening Zoe's baby grow. The smell, when uncovered, was so much worse.

"Oh, god," Covering his face with his hand, Morgan stepped back a good few paces, "That is just wrong , what have they been feeding this kid?"

"Formula, most likely," Reid was saying, "Usually, a breastfed baby's poop wouldn't smell bad at all. The particles are so tiny that they mostly get absorbed in the gut, and the milk doesn't spend long enough in the gut to develop much of a smell. Formula takes longer to process."

Morgan was staring at him, now, his eyes narrowed with confusion, "See, I- why do you know that, Spence?"

"I know a lot of things," Spencer said, looking at the baby, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"You know what I know?" Morgan posed the question, slapping Spencer on the back.

"What?"

"I know it's your turn, pretty boy."

Somehow, with a lot of argument and retching and crying - and not from Zoe - they managed to clear her up. Sure they went through three diapers and a whole pack of wipes (Reid refused to touch her unless his hands were entirely covered) but, in the end, she was clean and fresh smelling once more.

When Hotch, Emily and JJ returned, it was to Zoe sitting on a blanket on the floor, Spencer and Morgan on chairs in front of her, staring at her intently, as though waiting for her to perform a trick of some sort. She, however, was just looking back at them, frowning as though slightly disturbed by their intent attention.

"What are you guys doing?" Emily said, immediately stepping in and picking her up, "Don't put her on the floor!"

"Hey, we sat her on the blanket!" Morgan defended, hotly.

"It's still filthy in this place," JJ said, grabbing for the wipes to clean her hands, "What-where are all of the wipes?"

"We changed her diaper," Spencer grinned, looking incredibly proud of himself.

"Just one?" JJ asked, incredulously, as she tore open a second packet of wipes and tugged one out, using it to clean off Zoe's hands.

"Did anything useful come up at the hospital?" Reid asked, determined to get back to the case. Hotch nodded.

"The unsub is a woman," he said, and it was something they'd already suggested, but having the concrete information was certainly helpful, "We've got the security guard working with a composite sketch artist now."

"And once they've done that, I'll get her face all over the news," JJ said, "Hopefully if anybody knows her, they'll come forward."

"Hopefully," Emily nodded, "If she did leave Zoe then that's two babies that she's failed at abducting, she might grow more desperate."

"In the meantime," Hotch nodded to the window, where the sky was rapidly darkening to black, "We should try and get some rest."

In Emily's arms, Zoe had already lay her head against her chest and was nodding off to sleep.

"Who's on babysitting duty tonight?" Emily whispered.

"Not it!" The chorus went up, and not one person was left behind. In Emily's arms, Zoe flinched at the noise.

Hotch sighed, watching Emily rock her as Zoe began to cry. "Fine, I guess we all are."

They set up camp in Hotch's room, the logic being that it wasn't fair to load one person with the baby, so they would share the responsibility. There were two double beds and the sofa, which Hotch took, so plenty of room for them all, even though nobody got a good night's sleep in the end. He called down to room service and had a travel crib brought up. Zoe fell asleep almost instantly, but the adults in the room couldn't sleep, no matter how hard they tried. They were all too aware of the baby in the room; the baby that didn't belong to any of them but had somehow become their responsibility.

Zoe was a terrible sleeper, anyway. Clearly the day had exhausted her because she fell asleep almost as soon as JJ changed her into a new baby grow and lay her down in the crib. Hotch played some nursery rhymes on his laptop to soothe her and they watched her fight it for only a few moments before her eyes drifted closed.

An hour later, she woke up screaming and it took twenty minutes of feeding, burping, rocking and a diaper change to calm her down enough to put her back down.

And the cycle repeated all night.

They took it in turns, picking her up, pacing the room with her, patting her on the back and soothing her until she was calm enough to be put back down. But Zoe was persistent, and unsettled, and far from wherever home was.

It was the early hours when JJ woke up yet again, only it wasn't Zoe's screams that woke her this time, but a much gentler noise.

Music. Low, quiet music…humming. She cracked her eyes open a fraction, her vision blurry from sleep, her head aching from the lack of it and the constant reverberation of Zoe's crying in her ears. Beside her, Emily had fallen asleep, just as she had, on top of the comforter. Her hand rested hear to her face, her head tilted in JJ's direction and JJ could tell by the steady rise and fall of her chest that Emily was still fast asleep. She could also see across to the sofa, where Hotch lay on his side. He didn't look comfortable, but he, too, was dreaming away.

Rolling over slowly, gently, so as not to disturb Emily, JJ turned to Morgan and Spencer's bed, and found Spencer laying on his back, Zoe on his chest, humming softly as he patted her back rhythmically.

Hearing the creek of mattress springs as JJ turned, Spencer looked towards her, and his cheeks flushed a little with embarrassment, but JJ just smiled, softly at him, settling into her new position and tucking her hand beneath her cheek on the pillow.

"It didn't seem fair…" Spencer whispered, "You all…she woke up crying again and I just thought I should take a turn."

JJ nodded, looking from his face to Zoe's; in the dim light of the only lamp in the room JJ could see that the baby was fast asleep, her mouth the perfect little pout, her eyelashes occasionally fluttering.

"You've been holding out on us, Reid," JJ smiled. Spencer shook his head, but his lips curled up a little, into a private smile of his own.

"I've never really been around kids, except for Henry." He clarified. JJ knew this already, of course. Even when he was a child, Spencer was never really around other children. He was too mature for them, too intelligent. And his home life required too much of him for him to spend his time doing frivolous things like playing. He had always insisted that those things never appealed to him anyway, but the story was always terribly sad to JJ; everyone deserved to be a kid.

"You'd be a good dad." She told him, and she recalled a similar conversation she'd had a while ago with Emily. Spencer looked at her with much the same expression; he and Emily were cut from the same cloth, really, neither ever having a family they could ever really rely on. Spencer at least knew his mother loved him. Emily had no such comfort.

"Maybe," The younger agent nodded, his hand continuing its rhythmic patting of Zoe's back, "One day."

Come morning, they were all yawning at breakfast.

"Here you go, kid," Morgan said, as JJ sat Zoe in the highchair at the table. He had cut the crusts off of his toast and cut a sliver about an inch wide which he put onto the tray in front of her. JJ opened her mouth, ready to protest, but Zoe's eyes went wide and she reached for it, putting it immediately to her mouth and beginning to suck on the buttery bread.

"Okay, so someone's been weaning this kid." Emily said, raising an eyebrow as she watched Zoe go to town on her breakfast.

"Who do you belong to, little one?" Hotch said, with surprisingly tenderness. He had his hands wrapped around a cup of strong black coffee, and sighed as he put it to his lips.

JJ's phone rang.

"Hopefully we'll get some answers to that today," she said, glancing at the screen. She waved it at the others, "Social Services." Putting it to her ear, she stepped away from the table, "Hello? Yes this is Agent Jareau."

"There've been no abductions through the night," Reid said, passing JJ and returning to the table, slipping his own phone into his pocket as he sat down.

"So we still have nothing?" Emily splayed her hands, feeling helpless, as Morgan dialed Penelope's number.

"Good morning, mama," He said, and they all heard Penelope's grumble on the other end of the phone, smiling fondly at the sound of it. Morgan put her on speaker.

"I do have a lead for you, my loves," she said, to their surprise, "So our unsub has taken five babies in three weeks. That's a lot of formula to go through-"

"Unless she's breastfeeding them." Emily frowned at the phone.

"Exactly what I thought, gumdrop," She could practically hear Penelope nodding on the other end of the phone, "And I know what the profile says. A woman stealing babies has probably…lost a baby," she trailed off, sadly, "So, I revamped my search this morning and there were three women who delivered still borns in the last month, but only one before the abductions started."

"Who is she, Garcia?"

She was Valerie Tierney. 23 years old.

They found her, and four healthy babies, at her grandparents farm an hour outside of town.

Emily watched sadly as they brought her into the station, the chief of police and his officers carrying the babies.

" Not a daycare," JJ quoted, beside her, and she allowed herself a small smirk that turned into a warm and emotional smile as she watched a set of parents be reunited with their son.

"This is about as good of an ending as we get, huh?" Emily mused, as Hotch stepped up beside them.

"We won't see another like it for a while, I expect," he confirmed, "Where's Zoe?"

"Sleeping." Emily turned to JJ, "Social?"

"Coming for her today," the blonde said, and neither of them missed the sadness in her voice, because they felt it, too.

"So we think that she was abandoned?" In his chest, Hotch felt his heart sink.

"She doesn't match any descriptions for missing children," JJ shook her head.

Social services arrived a few hours later and, joyous as they had been watching the babies be reunited with their parents, knowing that Zoe was going not home to an equally loving family, but directly into the system, weighed heavily on all of their hearts.

JJ hugged her tightly to her chest, the scent of babypowder strong in her nose. Turning her around, Zoe's back to her chest, the others approached to say their goodbyes.

"We won't forget you, kid," Morgan told her, letting her hold onto his finger, and grinning when she did so, "So don't forget us, okay?"

Spencer kissed her chubby cheek, and JJ saw the sparkle of unshed tears in his eyes. She pointedly looked away; she didn't want him to feel embarrassed. "Good luck." He whispered, gently, before stepping away and turning his back on them all, staring out of the window. JJ wondered what was going on in his head.

Emily stepped up and offered her hands, a question in her eyes. JJ handed her over without question, and Emily buried her face in Zoe's downy hair.

"I'm going to miss you, baby," she said, lifting Zoe up against her chest. The baby's blue eyes searched over her shoulder, and Hotch stepped up, dropping his own quick kiss onto her head.

"Me too," he said, gruffly.

"We'll make sure she's safe and happy," the social worker said, from where she stood nearby. Exchanging a glance with Hotch, Emily raised an eyebrow.

"You'd better," she muttered, under her breath, earning her a subtle glare from her boss.

She manouvred Zoe, ducking her under the handle of the car seat, and buckled her into it.

"She has blankets and diapers and wipes, bottles, formula and some toys in here." JJ handed the bag over to the social worker, who looked surprised.

"Oh," she said, with an amused little noise, "It's not often people take such…care. Usually we just get a call, pick up the kid and that's it."

"Yeah, well," Morgan said, from where he was leaning against a desk, "We're not most people."

The social worker nodded, agreeing, and, settling the bag in the crook of her arm, she moved forwards to pick up the carseat.

"Wait," Emily said, reaching into her pocket. "If anything…if you find her parents, or a family, or if she's ever in trouble…" she handed over her card, "Just put my name on her file. Please."

The woman met her eyes, saw all of the emotion there, and, pressing her lips together in somewhat of a grim smile, nodded as she took the card from Emily's hand. Then she lifted the carseat, and both she and Zoe walked out of their lives.

"And a year later, that's when you adopted me, right, mom?"

"That's right, baby," Emily smiled, deft fingers winding their way through her daughter's wet hair as she braided it back.

They were sitting in Zoe's bedroom and, as was customary of a Sunday evening, they'd ordered a pizza, Zoe was bathed and cleaned, hair washed, and then had requested a story, as she always did. This story, the story of how they'd met, was a favourite, and Zoe demanded to hear it in full detail once every couple of weeks. So, sitting on her pink comforter, Emily had recounted it - or, at least, the child-friendly version of it.

"And everyone was so happy that I was back!" Zoe always liked this part of the story best, and Emily's smile widened into a grin, fastening a bow into the bottom of the braid.

"So happy." She agreed, winding her arms around Zoe and pulling her back against her chest, in a hug. Zoe's little hands came up to rest on her mothers arm and she sighed, happily.

"I'm glad you're my mom," the six year old said, with a contented sigh. She often made statements like thils; Zoe was much more forthcoming with her emotions than her mother was, and it always caught Emily by surprise. Everytime, she felt a lump rise in her throat, and everytime she couldn't believe how she ever got so lucky.

"Me too, baby," she said, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, "Me too."

#im stupid x #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #criminalmindsweek2023 #but an early entry #accidental baby acquisition #emily prentiss deserved to be a mom

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quohotos · 27 days

Text

So I'm sure no one remembers this anymore but it's been eating up my mind and I might as well get it out. There's this service called Carfax or some shit, and they pay for youtube ads. In one of them they have their mascot, this like fiver-ass animated furry, known as the carfax fox. Get it? Carfax? Carfox? Whatever, he looks like shit. Well he speaks in this snarky Ben Shapiro ass voice and explains that Carfax shows you the damage history of a vehicle so you can know it's true value. To illustrate his point, he has behind him two identical twins with two identical cars. Then through the magic of carfax or some shit the car on the right starts to rapidly morph from a normal car to a totalled wreck, I guess to illustrate how its damage history is being brought to light. This puts the twin on the right into a state of distress and causes the twin on the left to point and laugh.

"HA! Your damage has always been visible!" the guy says, pointing and laughing at his own brother.

It hangs for a beat where the other brother just looks so emotionally distraught. He's shocked and confused that someone so close to him would ever say something so unhinged and cruel. Like you just say that to someone? To your brother no less.

He stutters and then simply says: "We're twins!"

And then the add just fucking ends. Right there. Idk maybe they cut away to some slogan but it's the last we see of them and then your youtube video plays.

Excuse me what the fuck? What kind of martian wrote this?

Your damage has always been visible? What brings a person to say something like that. What does it even mean? I can tell you're traumatized, I can tell you're struggling, you're trying to hide it but I can see. I can see you're damaged goods, brother, and I find that funny. I laugh. I laugh at your weakness.

And don't you be fooled into thinking this is just some sort of edgy east coast style tear each other down humor, the twin on the right looks genuinely hurt. All he can do is appeal, brother how could you betray me like this? Are we not cut from the same cloth?

And why, why would he do this? Over a car? To impress some red fox who can't even make it up to his calf? Yes he appears large because of forced perspective but he could, would, and should drop kick the fucking carfax fox given the first opportunity. See the fox also thinks it's funny, or at the very least doesn't react. To him nothing matters beyond the monetary value of a vehicle. Human emotions, compassion, all that? It just gets in the way.

Oh god, did he coach the other twin? Maybe he wasn't always this way. Maybe the carfax fox has been corrupting him.

Just put yourself in the poor twin's shoes. It's been months, you haven't heard from your brother. You see him post on Instagram, but less and less does he actually have room for you in his life. You see photos of him, him and this fucking fox. Drinking, going to parties, their relationship status changes. Your twin brother, he's gay, and dating a fox. He didn't tell you, you're twins but apparently this wasn't worth mentioning. Maybe he didn't feel safe telling you. It keeps you up at night. You thought you were close.

Then a text message comes out of the blue. "Remember that car you're trying to sell, you haven't found a buyer yet, right?" Not hello, nothing like that, just straight to business.

"Yeah," you reply back, before clarifying, "It still hasn't sold."

"My boyfriend has this app for selling cars, do you think you could bring it by to the studio, we were thinking of using it in an ad."

"Yeah sure, totally, bro."

"Awesome. Would you like to be in the ad? You just need to stand there next to your car. It'll really help it sell"

"Uhh... sure, I guess," you reply back.

It's a nice car, but yeah you are struggling to sell it. You've had it for like eight years and put a lot of work into it. Real ship of thesus type vehicle. Selling it is important, but not really your priority.

"How've you been, man?" you text back.

No reply. Minutes later the typing bubbles pop up. He just ignores your message, it's just a date and time.

You show up as requested, it's a sound stage. A producer helps you get your car in the building. Some makeup people give you a once over, someone puts a lapel mic on your shirt. You finally see your twin brother, on the other side of the stage is a car that looks just like yours. Same make, same model, same color. Maybe it's a rental. Then you see him.

Your brother, he's there with that fox, they're laughing about something but you can't hear it.

You introduce yourself, but as soon as you approach the smiles stop. It's awkward. Were they laughing at you? You have so many questions, so much to catch up, but apparently your brother's boyfriend isn't even happy to see you.

"You don't have any lines, don't worry, you just look forward and smile."

Your brother produces a plastic bag of cocaine and you watch as the fox snorts it off of the hood of the rental car like it's nothing, in view of everyone.

"All right, it's showtime folks," he says, and suddenly everyone's moving. Your brother scowls at you.

"Get to your place," he says. You're shocked, shocked by his tone, but a split second later he's back to smiling for the camera.

The first take is messed up because you're not in place yet. The fox berates you, tells you to get it together. This isn't him, this isn't right. What does he see in this guy. Is he just leeching off of his money, would your twin brother even do that? You thought you knew him.

They reset from the top, you smile into the lights, into the cameras. The fox is saying something about damage history. Whatever, it's a car sale app or something. Then to your horror you hear the sound of bending metal and shattering glass. You turn to see your car, totaled in an instant. What? How? What did they do?

Your eyes shoot around the room. The fox won't even look at you, his tail swishing back and forth playfully.

"Ha, your damage has always been visible."

You turn to see your brother pointing and laughing. Your damage has always been visible? What does that mean? What does that even mean.

"We're twins!" you say, mouth agape in disbelief.

This isn't him this isn't right.

"Alright, I think we got it. We don't need you anymore," the fox says, finally turning to you.

"Bro, what's... what's gotten into you?" you sputter.

His guffaws, they're softer now, just a slight chuckle and smirk.

"You're weak," he says, "Just like your fucking car."

Whoever this person is, he's not the brother your grew up with. Not the shoulder you cried on, not the guy you shared a pokemon emerald save with, not the one that you did matching Halloween costumes with for fifteen years straight. No, no he's something else now, and all because of that fucking fox.

"You son of a bitch!" you shout, lunging for him.

The fox seems only mildly amused as you're grabbed by security, dragged out kicking and screaming.

"I'll kill you, what did you do to my brother?" you demand.

"Your damage has always been visible," your brother laughs. That's the last you ever see of him.

#journal #ads #carfax #quohotos' unhinged rants no one asked for

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starfall-spirit · 1 year

Text

Renaissance Masterlist

AN: This chapter is so awkward. I didn't know how to write it well, for all I tried.

Word Count: 1386

Chapter IX: Behind the Façade

It turned out that there was only one flight with seats into New York that day, thanks to the summer’s heavy vacationing. They were lucky that it was just that afternoon. Regardless, by the time they got to the hospital, Rhys parent’s would be out of surgery. Whether they were in recovery or not was another question altogether.

Feyre was tense, to say the least. Not only was she concerned about the accident, but she wasn’t sure if Rhys uncouth proposal was honest or just an impulse following morning sex. It was obvious now he cared for her in more than the physical sense, but they weren’t in love. They’d known each other for a few months.

They had something that could grow of course, but, love? The grounds of a marriage? Hardly. And if he did expect an answer on the flight or after they saw his parents, she wasn’t sure how exactly to approach it. So here she was on pins and needles, waiting for him to ask her again.

But the time ticked by, Rhys barely speaking a word, watching his phone like a hawk the second they were permitted to turn them back on. About two hours into the flight the first message came in from Mor.

In recovery. Both should be fine. No brain damage as far as they can tell.

Rhys let out a heavy breath. Good. Avy? He texted back.

Just fell asleep on Cassian. It’s 9 am here, but she was up all night.

Thanks for staying.

He set his phone down, leaning back in his seat. She reached over to lace her fingers through his and he smiled, kissing her knuckles. “Thank you Feyre. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I haven’t done much,” she mumbled, blushing softly.

“You’ve done more than you know.”

Knowing his parents were going to live brought him out of his brooding, somewhat, and from there she was able to distract him with small talk, as much as she liked to avoid it herself. Small talk turned to childhood stories, skirting around a few sensitive subjects. And then it was time to land.

Azriel was waiting for them at the airport, dark bruises under his eyes. “Feyre.”

“Should one of us drive, Az?”

“I’m fine. Not tired enough to be a road risk, I promise.”

She hummed, but said no more, letting him take her bag to put in the trunk before sliding into the back seat so Rhys could have the passenger seat to discuss the details of the accident.

“Like Avy told you, they were on the bridge back to their house. Someone coming from the other direction swerved and hit them hard. Drunk and on a late night joyride. Things look good, all things considered, but they haven’t woken up yet. The other guy got off pretty lucky.”

Rhys nodded, jaw clenched tight. He was right to be angry at that.

The rest of the drive was almost silent, and Feyre was grateful the hospital and airport weren’t far from one another. The second she was out of the car she took his hand, hopeful he would think she was just trying to give him a bit of support. But then, hadn’t she learned he could see right though her?

“Is it difficult,” he murmured when they had to pause at the front desk, “after seeing your parents in the hospital? Coming back?”

“Yes. It’s been a few years, but… apparently it hasn’t faded.” Her mother had died in her early childhood. She didn’t remember the sickness as well as her sisters did. But her father… that had been harder. She shook her head. “This isn’t about me.”

He looked ready to say something else, but Feyre quickly stepped away when she saw Avyanna bolt to her feet. Even as Rhys caught his sister in a hug, Feyre felt his eyes on her. Why he was so worried about her right now didn’t make any sense, considering the situation. It made his unanswered question feel all that more pressing. And yet, the answer was still no.

“It’s alright,” Feyre heard him murmur as she settled beside Mor. “They’ll be alright, Avy. You want somebody to take you home? You can get some real sleep.”

“Can I stay with you? Here I mean.”

It was easy enough to imagine the last place she wanted to be right now is in a car driving that bridge. “Alright, kid. Go sit down. I’m gonna go see them and come back out, okay?”

She nodded and he left without another word, heading towards the rooms his parents had been given. An awkward silence filled with worry seemed to cloud the room, Mor’s grip on her hand was tight and Avy… for whatever reason Rhys’ sister refused to even look at her at the moment. Knowing so little about her, Feyre didn’t know how to help that yet. She warmed to Azriel when he sat beside her, so at least she wasn’t spiraling in solitude.

“Is Cass sitting with them too?” Feyre murmured, desperate for anything to break through the tension.

“Yes. Their rooms are side by side. We’ve been rotating,” Mor confirmed. And silence fell again. “I’m sorry. I know you hate—”

“I’m fine,” she said again, her voice a bit too sharp. She pulled her hand from Mor’s, rubbing at the gooseflesh pebbling down her arms. Considering it was summer, she’d forgotten to pack a jacket for the plane and the hospital wasn’t much warmer.

A few moments later a familiar hand was between her shoulder blades, pushing her up. Realizing Rhys was back with his coat as an offering she shook her head. “Honestly, Feyre.”

She sat up, letting him drape it over her shoulders and sweep her hair out of the collar, his fingers gliding over her skin. “The doctor was there. Neither one of them should need more than a few days here after they wake up.” He sat beside her, looking worse than when they came in. She didn’t think it had anything to do with the fact they should be asleep on another continent at the moment. Rhys laced their fingers together and Avy scoffed, drawing both their attention.

“What?” Rhys asked.

“With all this going on, you’re worried about holding up your little ruse?” Feyre blushed, starting to tug her hand away. Rhys grip only tightened, his jaw clenched to match it. “You knew he would dig. You know this little plan would backfire, so why try?”

“I didn’t think he would care to dig, honestly. Not with me cut out of the will.”

“How stupid are you, Rhys?” He raised a brow. “Mom threatened to leave him. If he so much as altered either of our inheritance, she was going to leave him. He started pulling strings, looking into you two as soon as you left the country.”

“What does this have to do with their will?” Feyre asked cautiously.

Rhys sighed, running his free hand through his hair. “The last fight my father and I had before I moved out was over when I would marry, who I would marry, and how to get a prenup in place. I told him he could go to hell and cut me from the will if the family assets were his biggest concern with my marriage. I thought he had.” There was a sudden panic in his eyes. “None of this reflects on you, Feyre. This was before we even met.”

“I’m not your wife, Rhys. It doesn’t matter much, does it?”

“I have every intention of rectifying that.” Mor squeaked beside me. Rhys ignored her. “You never answered my question.”

“Rhys, honestly.”

“You’re still wearing the ring. I have every right to wonder, don’t I?”

“I’m not marrying you. I barely know you.”

A dangerously smug expression met her then. “I’d say you know me quite well by now, darling.”

His poor sister gagged at that. Feyre frowned. “I’m starting to understand the need to talk about you putting something in place.”

“Feyre!”

“We haven’t known each other for half a year and you’re proposing. I’d say that’s a bit impulsive.” He frowned. “Ask me again in six months. That might change my answer.”

He smiled, kissing her brow. “That I can work with.”

~~~~~

AN: The last chapter was prewritten and will be out tomorrow.

Taglist: Reach out to be added or removed.

@goddess-aelin // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @reverie-tales // @acourtofwips // @jealousveronya // @darling-archeron // @elentiya-whitethorn // @gwynkyrie // @acotar-fanns

#a renaissance romance #feysand #feysand fic #acotar #fanfiction #so awkward I'm sorry

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danime25 · 1 year

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Ken Seeking Barbie

masterlist // ao3

*Summary: He's just Ken. Looking for his barbie out there in the real world. Who knew you could find someone on Craigslist? Ken certainly didn't.

*Rating: +18 for explicit mature content

*Content/Tags: First Kiss, First Time

*Status: Series (Part 1)/Complete?

“And… send. No, enter?” The clueless blond hit at the keyboard. “God these computers are so confusing. I wish Barbie were here.”

Ken was on a trip in the real world to visit his no-commitment close friend Barbara, formerly Barbie. She was all set up in the real world, she had her own apartment, a job, and apparently had seen a gynecologist. Whatever that means, but he was happy for her! He was still in the process of figuring out what it meant to be Ken. Find his purpose, like Barbie had found hers. Until he did that however, he was going to enjoy visiting with his friend. Barbara had taught him how to use the computer to occupy himself for a couple of hours while she worked. He learned more about horses, the patriarchy and its fallacies. After he had gone through Wikipedia he decided to move on to his next site. Without Barbie there to guide him, he had found his way onto a site called Craigslist. He searched for horses first, and to his surprise he couldn’t find more info about horses, but he could buy a horse. He couldn’t do that, he didn’t have any money, and he had learned his lesson from Barbie after ordering pizza that cost over 100 dollars. Apparently that was expensive for humans. He shook his head and moved onto the personal section.

“F24 looking for partner.” His eyebrow raised and clicked on it. After reading through way too much information about what this woman was looking for he decided, “I could do that.”

‘Ken looking for his Barbie

Hi, I am Ken! I am looking for a blonde haired, pretty woman.’ He squinted and looked back over the post the other person had written about what she wanted.

‘A woman who likes to have fun! Someone who likes beach! I can meet you at the beach!’

And that’s how he got to where he was now. He put the ad up on the site, and waited. Almost immediately he got responses. A lot of them asked him to call them. One woman was brave enough to set up a place to meet.

“Sublime!” He then sent her a message to arrange the meet-up before walking out of Barbie’s apartment. He walked and walked before arriving at a beach that was new to him. It was quite pretty with the sunset just on the edge of the waters that actually moved. He found a bench to sit at and waited for a couple of minutes before being approached by a woman.

“Wow. You’re really into this thing.” She said, “I guess you must be Ken.” He got up and turned around to face her. She was tall, and blonde. She was very pretty. Not stereotypical Barbie pretty, but beautiful nonetheless.

“You look very gorgeous.” He smiled at her

“Thanks. You seem nice. So… where do you want to do this?”

“Do what?”

“You know, like… the Barbie stuff.”

“The barbie stuff?” He asked again

“You’re a real airhead. Let’s just go to my house, if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Yeah, I’m fine with that.” He smiled back at her. She rolled her eyes a tiny bit and pulled him into a cab. He liked the way that she pulled on his shirt to get him to go where she wanted him to go. He plopped down onto the seat next to her and watched out the window as the beach drew out of sight. She guided him out of the car after a short ride around town and in front of a tall building. After she exchanged words with the driver and a piece of paper, she took his hand and led him into the building.

“You’re not like other guys. Most guys would be feeling me up by now.”

“Feeling you up? Do you want to be felt up?”

“No,” She laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear, “At least not until we’re in my apartment.”

“Okay.” He smiled back at her, and felt his hand squeeze hers tighter. She looked down at their hands before going back to what she was doing. She opened the door and turned the lights on. This apartment was smaller than Barbie’s but it felt so much warmer?

“Sit down.” It sounded like a command, but she said it so nicely that he sat down, “Any particular outfit you want me to wear?”

“Do you have anything pink?”

“Of course I do.” She smiled at him before going to another room and closing the door behind her. He looked around her apartment while she was doing her thing. So many dolls… wait, did she have a Ken doll? He didn’t want to disobey her, but he really wanted to check it out. He quietly got up from the couch and looked at the Ken. He was cool looking. He ran his hand over the head of the Ken, but didn’t want to think about the implication of what he was doing, and put the doll back. “Ugh I’m having a hard time finding my outfit, you can watch TV if you want!”

“Okay!” He called back to her and sat back on the couch. He flicked the TV on for a second before she came out in a bright pink, sparkly dress. “Wow.”

“You like that?”

“Very much.” He smiled from ear to ear, “Also that Ken you have is really cool.”

“Aw thanks.” She smiled back at him, “Not a lot of guys notice him. But I’ll be honest. He’s my favorite. I just think he’s so… dreamy.”

“Can I?” He asked

“Can you what?”

“Can I get up?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Okay.” He walked over towards her and placed his hands on her hips, something stereotypical barbie would never let him do. “You’re…. Prettier than Barbie.”

“Don’t say that.” She giggled, “I am Barbie.”

“No, you’re not. And that’s what makes you so pretty.” With a feeling of conviction he had never felt before, Ken put a hand gently on the back of her neck and leaned in to kiss her. She wrapped both her arms around his neck and pulled him into her. For her, the kiss seemed so chaste compared to what she’d normally get from guys. After kissing like teenagers, she asked him

“What do you want me to do to you Ken?”

“Huh?”

“I mean I’m your barbie, you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Anything? Like boyfriend girlfriend stuff?”

“Yeah. Anything.” She kissed his cheek

“Okay.” He smirked and took her hand, before realizing he didn’t know what room to go in. “Where’s the bed?”

“In there.” She gestured back from where she came from. He nodded and guided her into the bedroom. She sat on the bed and twirled the ends of her hair with her finger

“Wait… can you act like stupid?”

“Oh, like a bimbo?”

“Yeah.” He puffed his chest out a little bit

“I thought you’d never ask!” Her voice went up and was even more girly than it had been a second before, “I just don’t know what to do without you Ken.”

“It’s okay.” He sat next to her, “I can help with that.”

“You can?! Yay!” She smiled and rested the palms of her hands in his lap. She shifted so that she rested on her legs. He pulled her closer once again by her neck and kissed her. After a couple soft kisses, he pushed her onto her back and she let her arms flop over her head as she looked up at him. He carefully lifted up her dress and looked at her underwear. He put his hands on the hem and pulled them off slowly. After they were off, he threw the garment onto the floor. She bit on the tip of her finger as she watched his confidence slowly build up. He ripped his shirt off right over his head and threw that in another direction. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah.” His voice caught a little in the back of his throat

“I mean, I really don’t know what I’m doing but… I think….” She drew her words long to make it sound like she was confused, “This is how you take a belt off.” She unbuckled his pants and took the pair of pants off of him. She saw that there was the name ‘Ken’ embroidered into the waistband and swooned, “That’s like so cute!”

“I’ll show you cute.” He growled in a low tone, one he’d never heard before in his life. He worked his underwear off and then moved his hands onto either side of her body. He held himself up before leaning down onto her to kiss her. She pulled him down by the small of his neck and kissed him back, her head moving around. He shoved his left arm underneath her body and pressed his whole body into her. He arched his back a little before deciding he needed to be inside of her. He sat up a little bit and moved her legs apart carefully. He paused for a second, but then did as he had wanted and shoved himself inside of her. She let out a quiet gasp and he asked her, “Are you okay?”

“Little rough, but I’ll be fine.”

“Sorry.” He apologized, “Don’t have much experience.”

“That’s okay.” She pulled him back up to her and let him get used to the feeling of being inside. “Now what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make you feel good.” He smirked a little

“That sounds so good.” She put her hands on his waist and he leaned forward, starting to slowly thrust into her. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Like that?”

“I do. Can you go faster? I bet you can.”

“Yeah I can.” He repeated his motion, but faster this time. One more time, and again. Again. Again. She moved her hands up from his sides to fully on his back as he found a rhythm to it. She kept him pressed close to her and felt himself… getting hard. That’s all he could think about. He hoped that that wasn’t a turn off for her. She quietly moaned underneath him. He grunted and kept pushing himself further into her with each thrust of his hips. He let out a broken moan from his lips as he felt a warmth pool in his stomach and came in her. Her legs clenched around his waist as he came, and let a little noise out as he slowly came down from whatever high it was he was just on. His whole body felt limp and he toppled onto her. His chest heaved against hers, and she held onto him. When he regained strength in his arms he wrapped them around her frame and rested his head on top of her chest. He listened to the soft thump in her chest as it went from every second to slightly longer and her whole body went from on edge to at ease. He rested there for a while. And a while got a little bit longer. His eyes fluttered a couple of times, and when she saw that he was getting sleepy, she ran her fingers through his soft perfect blond hair.

“If you want to go, you can.” She offered to him quietly

“Okay.” He got up and looked at her, “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“What if I want to stay?” He asked

“Then you can stay.” She smiled at him

“Okay.” He cuddled up beside her and wrapped an arm around her back before looking down at her dress. “That’s still a really pretty dress.”

“Thanks. I made it myself.” She beamed, “I’m glad you treated it with such care. Most guys are too eager and just start tearing.”

“That’s awful.” He gasped

“Yeah I know.” She rested her head on his shoulder. Ken could have squealed with excitement, but instead went to hold onto her hand. “I never got your name.”

“Oh. It’s Ken. I’m just Ken.”

“You’re cute.” She closed her eyes and grinned

“Thanks.” He smiled up at the ceiling. He didn’t know when he’d get back to Barbara’s apartment, or how. That didn’t really matter to him right now, because Ken had finally found a purpose. And his purpose was his barbie.

#ken barbie #ryan gosling ken #ken barbie x reader #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #the barbie movie #barbie movie fanfic #barbie movie fanfiction #my work #my fic #not beta read #ken in the real world

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all-the-words-necessary · 2 years

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Ok, fuck it, lady Chatterley's lover au Steve comes back from the front not quite as he went off. He's got a new wife waiting for him and a huge old manor home that is now his own. Everything would be fine, great even, if it wasn't for his fucking legs not working. The doctor said he was lucky to be alive, but, Steve thinks waspishly, not so lucky that he's not practically paralyzed from the waist down. Nancy is taking it in stride, still bright eyed and hopeful for the future they both wanted when they said 'i do'. Right before he was shipped off.

He loves her for it, but at the same time every kind smile and gesture from her makes him feel like he's swallowing glass. It hurts because Steve knows there is no way he can keep those promises he sees shining through in her eyes.

When they reach the old manor home the cracks start to show up right away.

"Steve, Let's take in the air!" she says, bouncing out of the car. The trip had taken five hours to get out to the country, the car stopping in front of the old imposing manor looming in front of them. He can see her stretching, reaching up to the clear blue sky as her curls shine in the sun. It takes him longer to get out of the car needing Nancy, and a servant that quickly hurries out of the house, to lower him into his wheelchair.

It quickly becomes apparent that, despite its recommendations for being top of the line, the wheelchair can barely manage the gravel drive in front of the house, much less the wooded path Nancy is not so covertly eyeing.

"It's fine," Steve says, catching her eye and giving a smile, "I wanted to check out the house first. Go on ahead and tell me what you find when you come back."

And so he's wheeled into the massive family manor, the doors closing behind him with an air of finality that sinks deep into the pit of his stomach.

He remembers this manor. Knows it well from his childhood, every floorboard and every window reminds him of his recently passed father. He thinks, idly, of taking a sledgehammer and smashing the foundation so thoroughly that no one would ever know a house once stood here.

"Would you like anything else, sir?" The servant says, after he's wheeled to the library.

Steve gives a polite smile and waves him off, turning so he faces the window. It's where Nancy finds him when she gets back.

~NANCY AND STEVE DRIFT FURTHER APART, WORKERS ARE HIRED FOR THE MANOR, STEVE FINALLY SAYS 'FUCK IT, IM TAKING THIS WHEELCHAIR OFF ROAD'.~

It had, he thought, seemed like a good idea at the time.

He ordered the new chair weeks ago, planning to surprise Nancy by joining her on one of her walks. When it had finally arrived, she had been out of the country visiting her family, and a test run really didn't seem like the worst idea.

He just hadn't accounted for the mud.

So here he was, about three kilometers from the house, stuck on a path in the middle of a muddy field.

"This stupid piece of, fucking, bullshit, motorized my ass…" he slams his fist down on the armrest of the chair in frustration, hearing a satisfying crack.

"Everything alright over there?"

Steve jumps, whipping his head over to the man walking up the bottom of the path. His voice is rough, from the village obviously, but he looks familiar.

Heat prickles up his face as the man gets closer and he hates this. He knows just how he's going to see him. Helpless. Stuck in the mud. A burden.

"I'm fine, thanks." He says, pasting a smile to his face. He hopes it conveys the message that he loves this. Being stuck in mud is his passion. Prehaps then the man will leave him alone and he can go back to sulking.

The man stops next to him, his brown curly hair under his cap a bit longer than it should be. It frames his wide brown eyes, currently looking at him like he's full of shit.

It's then that he makes the connection

"You're the new gardener, aren't you?" He thinks back to a couple of weeks ago, when the house had been filled with those seeking employment. "Mr. Munson, was it?"

"Aye, sir. You've got a good memory," he crouches down next to Steve as he says it, fiddling with the back of his wheelchair.

"It also looks like you've got a busted engine."

"It's new," Steve sniffs, "it's engine is supposed to help with out-of-doors travel." because it's not his fault, and he didn't ask for help, and he probably would have figured it out on his own. Probably.

"Can I take a look?" He asks, probably a bit too late Steve thinks, uncharitably. He inclines his head regally and looks off towards the edge of the trees. If he squints hard enough, he thinks, he can maybe pretend none of this is happening.

There is a minute of silence, maybe two, before Munson says,

"Y'know, when I was younger I hated reading. Hated it."

It's such a non sequitur that Steve turns blindly back towards him.

He's still hunched over the engine in the back of the chair, hands fiddling with god knows what, not really looking at Steve.

"I had such trouble with the words all blurring together, I never wanted to do it. It was embarrassing." He's gesturing wildly as he talks. Steve doesn't think he even realizes he's doing it and he finds himself relaxing in his chair for the first time since the trouble with the mud started.

"My uncle found out from a teacher who, well, probably thought I was hopeless. He came over that very night. Started reading books to me, no pressure or judgement whatsoever- ah here's the bugger." He pulls a small piece of machinery from the back of Steve's chair with a showmanship he wouldn't have expected from a gardener.

"Sorry for the language, sir." he says with a cheeky smile, implying that he's maybe not that sorry at all.

It's an astounding bit a familiarity that Steve knows he should put a stop to. He knows his father would. There's just something about the man that makes him…pause. Possibly brain damage from the war, he thinks, somewhat hysterically.

"Anyways, long story short, I started to want to read as well, and when I did, he helped me with that too. Took ages, but that man never faltered once. Sometimes now I even read for fun."

He holds out the busted piece of machinery for Steve to take, his hands dirty from the engine and mud. When Steve takes the part he can feel how rough and calloused the pads of Munson's fingers are, a direct clash to his own.

He clenches the small piece of machinery firmly in his lap, the grooves imprinting on his palm like a vulger tattoo.

It's then that Munson looks directly into Steve's eyes.

"It's okay to ask for help sometimes."

There are a lot of different responses Steve knows he could have to this. He's affible and popular, knows how to work his way around a conversation. He could be cold and direct making sure this "Mr. Munson" remembers his place, or he could make a pithy joke at his own expense, have them both laugh off the entire exchange.

He hears cicadas in the distance, Munson's honesty still hanging raw in the air between them. In the end, he decides the man's truth deserves his own in reply.

"I don't want to be a burden." He says quietly.

The words hang between them for a moment.

"Well, excuse me, sir if I'm being impolite, but I don't think I was one at eleven and I don't think you are now." His voice is strong and steady, the words feeling as set in stone as if they were given to Moses himself.

Munson then slides up to standing, clapping his big hands together.

"Now, I know you could get out of the mud yourself, but you seem like a busy man and your engine wont work until you order a new replacement part. What say I get you out of this patch here and you can roll on back to the house."

Steve looks up at him. He cuts a clean figure with his waistcoat half unbuttoned, arms crossed with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, to account for the heat. His fingers idely tap out a nonsensical beat as he waits for Steve's reply.

He realizes Munson is right. Steve could do it himself, but that wasn't the point. He didn't have to.

"Ok, but just with the mud" he replies, grinning.

#Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steve/Eddie #stranger things #Steve learns to love himself and his disability #He also gets plowed by Eddie #a romance tale as old as time #Nancy and Steve end up in a lavender marriage it's great

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leqclerc · 2 years

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I can't stand Ferrari letting Charles behind all the time and thinking is okay, the right thing to do, they f**** his race again to let his stupid teammate being the number 1.

*big long defeated sigh* I swear Ferrari just doesn't have it in them to stay on top of things for the entire race distance. About halfway through something always starts giving. By that logic they should smash it in the sprints. If only pace didn't matter eh 🫠🙃

First of all (because ofc people are arguing over this already) "fighting" for peanuts in P6 and P7... that's not where you want to be. Even with the safety car disadvantage they admitted post-race that their stint on hards was their weakest point and they didn't have much more left in that car. So clearly there are bigger issues that they really need to look into here.

That being said this race was giving Brazil a bit ngl. Charles was steadily making his way through the field after starting 12th, had a really good stint on softs, and was soon right up behind Carlos....yet again. Carlos, meanwhile, had a bit of a mid showing and even lost out to Stroll 😭😭 The dummy call was great, looks like it's the one strategic trick they can actually make work semi consistently.

Now, people are already kicking off about "well if he's faster why can't he pass." Charles had better pace than Carlos. As always with these things there's a lot of stuff that just gets ignored or isn't broadcast so people assume it doesn't exist. I'll review Carlos's radio myself later once the clip is uploaded. But just from following Tweets you see a few issues arise. Sounds like Ferrari had implied that Charles could have the pace to potentially chase down Lewis, but Carlos (and his RE?) kept trying to catch him on their own. Somewhere in the middle of this Carlos was also apparently shown a black and white flag for weaving. Turns out he didn't have the pace to chase down Lewis, by which point it's too late to consider doing anything anymore. Charles additionally made a mistake, I believe, ended up dropping out of the DRS zone, and then just switched to conservation mode to, like he said, "bring the car home" because it was obvious there's nothing else to fight for.

There was some mixed messaging around the hard tyre as well. Charles had a good stint on the softs, so I wonder if it would've been possible for them to extend that a bit (obviously they couldn't have known a safety car was just around the corner but still) and then try to stick on mediums. Lewis had a difficult time with the hards and he pitted for mediums just two laps after Charles did (lap 16 and 18) and seemed to have a good stint with those mediums while Ferrari dropped off on the hards. And I believe Charles had a set of new mediums banked... 🧐 But don't quote me on that, I could be way off, just musing out loud since the hard stint clearly didn't do them any favours 🙃

#replies #anonymous #long post #discussions and predictions

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f1 · 1 year

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ICYMI: Rubber ducks cat-shaped horses and traffic jams all feature in the best social media from Spa

When it rains, it pours – as the F1 drivers, teams and fans found out in Belgium at the weekend. But the weather didn’t dampen everyone’s spirits, with plenty of banter on social media amongst the teams. Here are some of the best gems you might have missed from Spa-Francorchamps… Code Name: Albono Powers Quite why Alex Albon decided he needed to turn around in a small cart on a narrow road will remain a mystery, but the Thai driver's execution of his three-point turn may well have led to a driving test fail in most countries. Logan Sargeant looked embarrassed to be associated with the travesty, which had Austin Powers written all over it. Not the best start Perhaps George Russell should have headed home when his pass didn't work at the start of a weekend he later described as "rubbish" and conceded he was glad was over. Mercedes will be glad he didn't, as he picked up valuable points for the team. At least he didn't manage to mix up the conditions and mistake the rain for anything else in Spa... READ MORE: ‘I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a weekend like this’ – Russell ‘glad’ to put Belgian GP behind him Good weather for... Speaking of the rain, there was lots of it. It might have been raining cats and dogs, but in the pit lane it was all about the humble rubber duck. Valtteri Bottas has already told the world that ducks are suited to rainy days far more than F1 cars, and his team evidently agreed. As for Mercedes, Trackside Engineering Director Andrew Shovlin could only describe conditions as 10/10. It was difficult to argue. A bunch of racers? Apparently, all that is missing at Haas – bar a points paying finish – is Guenther Steiner behind the wheel. Would the likeable Team Principal have made all the difference on Sunday? You can only imagine the radio messages – they would have made Max Verstappen's exchanges look tame. International Friendship Day Anytime Lando Norris, George Russell and Alex Albon get together, chaos normally ensues. They were on their best behaviour at the weekend, despite Albon and Norris having a battle out on the racetrack. But if you want wholesome content, this is where it was at in Spa for International Friendship Day. Childhood dreams Okay, it might have been the Sprint rather than a full Grand Prix, but who didn't like the heartwarming moment Oscar Piastri managed his first top three finish since joining the big, bad world of F1? His Dad was here to see it too, and it's clearly been a long time coming for a kid who grew up dreaming of F1. Not in this garage You have to be very brave to wear a rival's branding in the Red Bull garage, as this woman found out. Christian Horner wasn't allowing anyone to advertise the Prancing Horse on his turf, but Ferrari found a way to retaliate later on... Traffic in Sector 1 There's nothing worse than minding your own business and getting honked whilst in traffic – and it's even worse when the culprit is your team mate. Carlos Sainz was clearly impatient to get going, but unfortunately he also picked up traffic when it came to Turn 1 in the Grand Prix proper... Giddy up Horsey This one played out on social media across the weekend, as a fan desperately tried to unite Alex Albon with a hand-knitted cat called Horsey, named after his own cat – nope, us neither. The fan in question managed to get her creation to the Williams driver, who looked genuinely stoked with the new addition to his family. An unbroken streak No, no – this isn't about Red Bull's winning run. This is all about the fact the team can't keep a trophy intact, despite having had plenty of practice in handling prizes this year. This time they can't even blame Lando Norris either, contriving to break one of their trophies of their own accord whilst celebrating. Still, at least they still have some super glue on hand after the Hungarian mishap. via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

#F1 #ICYMI: Rubber ducks #cat-shaped horses and traffic jams all feature in the best social media from Spa #Formula 1

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djarinispunkkk · 1 year

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Trouble - Propositions

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

Surely enough the next morning you arrived at Javier's place promptly. Your stomach was still turning as your mind replayed last night's antics. You felt even slightly guilty as you walked Diego out of your apartment. Not guilty enough that you abandoned your plan of action for the morning.

See, it may have been barely noon, but you were practically starved of affection. Recurving only a kiss on the cheeky from Diego was the nail in the coffin. You wanted to fuck. Hence your little outfit.

You sat at the wheel rechecking your makeup for the umpteenth time. You were decked out in a long jacket, unassuming at first glance but what you had on underneath, or lack thereof, you expected would get Javier's attention.

What you didn't expect however was the sound of another set of wheels on the gravel. Glancing at your mirror you say the unmistakable flash of blonde hair - Steve.

"Fuck" you groaned. That effectively put a plug in the 'get railed' quota.

You saw Steve smile and start to put his window down, and you do the same with a stiff smile.

"Hey!" his jovial voice put you at ease slightly.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" you tried to act natural, maybe it was just a coincidence.

"Oh, I thought Peña would've told you, we need to follow up on the whole club incident" he seemed genuinely confused, "I assumed he filled you in on everything"

Yeah. On second thoughts you didn't really get much talking done last night.

"Oh, not really," you said with a shrug.

"That's okay, c'mon" he exited the car, prompting you to follow suit.

He gave you a glance over, you could tell he was confused about the outfit choice. You shook your head slightly which you hoped communicated the 'don't ask' message.

Steve knocked twice, practically bursting through Javier's apartment the moment he opened the door.

"Peña, good going explaining the situation to your girl" Steve smirked as he strolled through to the living room.

Javier looked confused for a moment but then turned to you. The confusion reappears.

"Hey," you did an awkward little wave, internally cringing.

"Hey, what's with the trench coat?" you stepped into the foyer, your heels clicking on the wood.

"Oh nothing" you tried to act casual, "You didn't mention Steve was going to be here," you said through clenched teeth.

He seemed to get the message as that fucking smirk appeared on his face.

"Oh"

"Yeah"

He seemed to nod briefly, hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked down at you. You held his gaze until he briefly looked behind him.

Why was he being so weird?

It was then he decided to turn around and hook two fingers in the collar of your coat, inching his head forward to try and look down into the coat.

You gasped and slapped his hand, "Javier!"

He just stood back grinning like the devil himself. "Come on" he just beckoned you to follow, as if he wasn't just trying to look at your tits.

God this man was going to be the death of you.

"So we have a favour to ask you" Steve started as you sat down.

"Um okay?" you were apprehensive, you'd thought the club incident was over. Apparently not.

"Well, it's a big ask" Steve was stalking looking at Javier. Now you were getting worried.

"What?"

"We need you to help us take down Pablo Escobar" Javier finally piped in. Speaking as if it was the most normal sentence in the world.

"What?" you deadpanned.

"Well, not exactly, we want to transfer you to a bar we know he frequents, try to butter him up a little bit" Steve tried to soften the sentence, but your mind was reeling.

"Butter him up how?"

"Just try and get on his good side, maybe get some information," Steve explained.

"I'm sorry, why the fuck would I do that?" You were shocked, to say the very least.

"We're not asking you to spy, just- we kind of gathered you'd spoken to him before so you'd be kind of trusted better?" Steve was clearly struggling to sell this to you.

"I've never even seen him" You tried for sincerity but you were sure your lie was evident.

"Cut the shit," Javier said, lighting up a cigarette. Well, you clearly weren't as good a liar as you thought.

"Okay, but- still!" you exasperated, "You're asking me to risk my life effectively"

"We'd be close by, you won't be in danger if you act naturally" Javier noted.

"And what's in it for me?" Christ, were you actually considering this?

"You'd take less shifts, but still be paid more than the Oracle, you can focus on school"

Oh sure focus on school during the day and focus on not getting killed in the evening.

"And the DEA will pay you extra" Javier added, hoping it would sway your opinion.

"I need some time, you know, to think this over" You ran your nails through your hair.

"Understood" Steve spoke, getting to his feet, "I'll leave you to mull it over."

"Bye Steve" You barely looked up at him leaving, catching Javier nod to him from your peripherals.

"Hey look at me" Javier took a seat next to you, tapping your leg.

You turned to him, sincerity staining his expression, "If you don't want to, I get it, it sounds crazy"

"Beyond crazy Javier" you sighed as you looked at him.

"But it won't be for long, and the money is good" He shrugged.

"And the money is a good substitute for my morals, Javier, really?"

"Don't act like you've never served a criminal before" Fuck, the truth sounded harsh from him.

"I don't know"

"Look, just think it over later okay?" Javier said simply, his hand still ghosting over your thigh.

"Besides, I'm more interested in what's under this"

It was amazing how smoothly he could transition from scaring the life out of you with his offer to having you in the palm of his hand.

"Shut up" you blushed earnestly, face burning at the thought of your silly overcoat.

"Come here" his fingers held you by the chin as his smile bled into the kiss.

The kiss only paused momentarily for him to hoist you over his lap, your thighs straddling his as you reconnected your lips.

He occupied his hands with the undoing of your jacket, pulling back to look you over once he'd shrugged off the coat.

"Fuck, look at you" You felt the way his hips bucked slightly at the sight of you in nothing but a smile.

"Stand up for me" You shot him a look but he only responded with the tilt of his chin.

Trying to remain graceful you rose to your feet in front of him. In nothing but your stilettos, the stifling tension and cool air caused your nipples to harden.

"You're perfect" Javier's eyes were hungry as they roamed your body, "Get over here"

You felt a surge of confidence as you stood before him, easing an eyebrow you countered his offer, "Why don't you get over here Peña"

He seemed to stutter his movements for a moment, giving you a chance to move away from him, putting more distance between the two of you.

Now you just expected him to walk over and maybe just force you back down to the couch. What you weren't expecting was for him to fall to his knees before you. You had to bite back a moan at the sight of his eyes staring up at you.

He started to plant soft kisses around your thighs, you bit your lip to quell the whimpers that were threatening to break through.

He tapped your inner thigh, "Open up for me hermosa"

Your heels parted as you let him chase his kisses to your core, you practically crumbled in front of his as he pressed kisses on your clit before sucking gently.

"Fuck, Javi" Your hands found a home in his hair as he continued his assault on your core.

His moans sent vibrations through you, your legs buckling beneath you. You whine when he stops his movements, "Get on the couch"

You practically skipped over and got situated, he looked downright predatory as he crawled to you. His tongue soon found you again and he threw a leg over his shoulder for good measure.

"Ay dios mío"

He groaned to that, his tongue delving deeper, you felt yourself coming undone beneath him.

"Don't stop" You pulled his hair slightly, however, it seemed this statement only prompted the bastard to remove his mouth completely.

"What the fuck?!" you half whined half groaned at him.

"You really think I'm going to let you cum after last night?" he practically laughed at you, you could kill him. He peppered kisses around your pouted face, you could cry at the lack of stimulation.

"Please Javier" You felt tears forming at the tension inside you.

"Don't be so impatient" his teeth nipped at your neck.

"Oh baby, I'm not letting you leave here until you've forgotten that guy's fucking name"

Part Eight

#pedro pascal #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #narcos

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siyeonjisoo · 2 years

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It is finally here! My month of pure madness! 6 concerts, 3 in one week and one is a 2 day festival. Starts with Miyavi so let's go!

Tour started from DC and you bet your ass I was there. It was full circle cuz the last show of last tour was in DC for me too. It was so nice to be back!

I did GA for this show so I knew I needed to get there early. Rocked up at 10:30. There was one other person in line who had been there for 2 hours at that point. And that started a bit of a pattern I think cuz the next people didn't show up till like 12.

Right after they showed up, Miyavi's tour bus showed up! Drove past us with its really cool decals but we were all distracted and almost fully missed it. But it kept going past us and we thought it was gonna come back around to try and pull in to the parking lot of the venue. But it didn't. We waited for like another hour or 2. Rest of the band started to trickle in but no Myv. One of the people I was waiting with needed to go back to her hotel and she barely got out of sight before this fancy looking black car rolls up and stops right in front of us at a red light. We recognize Miyavi's manager in the front seat but can't see the back until it's moved and we see a person with a hoodie on and go OH DUH he's with his manager. Car pulled around the building to drop him off and we (3 of us) waved at him and said hi and then combusted cuz he blew us a kiss (and I think he was making eye contact with me at that moment). He prolly was laughing at us when he got inside but it made me happy regardless.

More folks showed up slowly and then all my friends were there and it felt right/real. The CoMiyavi team put together a bouquet of flowers and some messages to pass to him since this is his 20th anniversary tour!

I was first for GA so we got center 3rd row. Even behind 2 mighty tall people, the crowd was pretty chill and I actually had the space to move around and could still see pretty much the whole show!

I've got this kind of bucket list kinda of songs I wanna hear at concerts and I was telling people about that while we waited. Number 1 on that list was Girls Be Ambitious. Number 2 was Dear My Friend. Number 3 was Freedom Fighters. And we got all of them. I don't know what to do with myself now lol.

Notable funny moments:

Myv flew in last night and the first place they went was an Aldi, a place he'd never been to before apparently. He was very confused by it. They have all the carts chained together and you have to insert a coin to remove it and you get it back after you connect it back at the end of your trip. Miyavi saw the chains and stood there trying to separate it, not knowing how. So now we're all just imagining him, jetlagged AF, yanking on this little chain. Until an older lady came up and explained it to him and lent him a quarter so he could get his cart.

Also, Aldis has no mineral water. He was mighty offended about that lmao.

I shouted to Dolly that I think she's really pretty and Miyavi said "what about Anthony?" And then set off on this story. I officially got Myv on a tangent like we all tried to get the teachers to and I felt proud. Story went "at a show he did a while back, the CEO of this company was in the audience. Comes backstage after and is full of compliments for the show. 'Tell me more about that drummer of yours, she's pretty' and ensuing comotion of laughter over that" drummer being Anthony, a rather hairy man lol. He does have rather gorgeous curls though.

Miyavi fumbled the lyrics a little bit in at least Senor Senora Senorita and maybe Selfish Love because it's been so damn long since he's played them lol

He looked at the set list at one point toward the end of the main set. Up till then, he would say "fricking" or "freaking" cuz he doesn't cuss much when doing MCs but at this point he just said "this set is fucking long" and stared at his tablet in what I can only describe as self reflection. Realization that he put himself in that situation lmao.

The other setlist standout is the cover of Get Wild from the anime City Hunter. I've never seen it but I was a Nami Tamaki fan for a while so I already knew that. Myv announced it and was very surprised that the audience knew the anime it was from. "City Hunter, not HunterxHunter. You know it?!" It was cute.

Dolly came back along with DJ Johnny and Anthony but to replace Gabi, we got to meet Chloe! And she is soooo talented and sweet! She gets a really nice dance piece during Secret and my GOODNESS am I falling in love with her. At the time I'm writing this, I've seen her 4 times so I can fully say she is so fucking amazing!!

He played twenty songs in the main set. Went off and changed before playing 4 more songs. He had us pull out our phone lights to sway with him for Me & The Moonlight. Chloe and Dolly each sang a verse of that solo and they sounded like freaking ANGELS.

And before long, it was over. We went hard for about 2 and a half hours but it still felt really fast at the same time. Got my merch, saw someone who got a setlist that I could take a picture of (didn't realize it was blurry until after, unfortunately), and waved Myv off as he got on the bus. Got to tell him I'd see him again in NYC and then it was back to my hotel to try and sleep.

Final thoughts - this tour is such an undertaking but also amazing!! I'm so glad I was at this show and that I have 3 more to experience!!

#myv #miyavi tour 2022 #miyavi 20th anniversary tour #tour fam #best days and memories #tour life

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rmhgsem · 2 years

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The second and in fact the third chapter of vantablack which is my fanfic from marble hornets.

(2)

It is not the best, but it will be here anyway

This question was followed by a moment of silence between the three of them, before Daphne turned to him and looked at him accusingly.

- You rummaged through my purse! - She shouted, apparently returning to her usual character and almost completely, removing the hangover from her body, fortunately, no one was surprised by this, but immediately began to argue. Yes, fortunately.

- I didn't rummage, just when I was taking her inside, it all spilled out of her! - Exclaimed Ezra, leaving the door he held open to approach the girl and argue with her face to face. Blair closed the door behind them and approached them too, standing at her friend's side.

- And you had to watch every object you picked up? You know how important privacy is to her," she sighed, rubbing her temples, at which Daphne put her hand on her shoulder, while the other continued to point at the poor boy.

- I DIDN'T HAVE TO, BUT WHEN SUDDENLY FROM HER PURSE FALL OUT CRUMPLED SHEETS OF PAPER WITH BIG BLACK WORDS HELP ME AND SOME OTHER STRANGE PEOPLE I GOT INTERESTED! WHY SHE NEEDS THAT SOMETHING AT ALL!" he finally shouted, silencing both girls for a few seconds. Blair then looked towards the aforementioned purse lying on the countertop and the cards that were next to it, well Ezra was a bit right. It looked strange. Her gaze quickly moved from the aforementioned items to the girl next to her, asking the same question with her eyes.

- God dear. - She whispered exasperatedly and walked over to the countertop to lift the cards up and start waving them in front of their faces.

- I wanted to make a joke for you! Don't you remember those silly stories about the slenderman and his cards on the trees? I was going to do it after everyone was already drunk, but it came out like it did! Next time don't move my stuff. - She directed the last words to Ezra and shoved the paper into the bag so hard that I think it tore all at once, including part of the bag.

- And who normal remembers some silly legends that used to be read on the Internet? No one normal! - Ezra answered her, walking into the depths of the kitchen. Blair continued to stand there, watching as he poured himself a drink and looked more than a little tired.

- I thought that since you like horror movies and other such crap so much, you'd be the first to figure it out! - She rolled her eyes and grabbed her friend to drag her out of his house.

- See you someday Ezra! - She only had time to shout before the door closed, but the answer to her shout came in the form of a text message, as the boy immediately wrote "See you later Blair"

- What an asshole, I can't believe it, it's really so easy to forget about culture, and I already thought it would be best to make jokes with him," Daphne continued to whisper to herself, even though they were already outside.

- Are you going to my place, or do you want me to drive you home? - Blair changed the subject, getting into the car to give a sign to this being that she had too much hatred inside her to do it too. And to her relief she did.

- To you, I don't want to go to my place yet, my parents are starting to argue again - She muttered, looking at her phone and most likely typing on their shared group, where Ezra had already appeared, so she didn' t have to text herself. The blonde sitting in the driver's seat only briefly turned her gaze to her friend and immediately after that went back to looking ahead. More than once Daphne had already told her about family problems, but this time it was probably something more serious, at least to her it looked that way. It always made her look at Daphne a little differently, even if she did piss her off.

The only thing she could do in such situations was to change the subject, it was the only thing that still worked.

- Is everyone already up after your message, or is anyone still missing? -

- Only so far Meredith hasn't woken up yet, and I thought she was in a good condition - She shrugged her shoulders, returning to aggressively tapping her nails on the phone.

- Because she was or at least far from your condition, they must have fucked something up when I took you away," she said, looking at the road.

That's when she began to recall everything that happened at that moment, and something didn't sit right with her.

- Daphne, you mean you didn't play any prank on us and spread those cards? - She asked, glancing at her friend, who raised her head and raised her eyebrows.

- I didn't make it, and even if I wanted to, it was all left in the bag," she replied, showing no emotion, thus worrying Blair even more. It might have only seemed to her through the darkness of fear and earlier irritation, but she saw a note on the tree and someone standing in the bushes, and if she didn't, who was it?

- Isn't it Meredith's mother? - Asked Daphne suddenly, looking through the glass at the sidewalk, where a visibly upset woman was walking, talking on the phone, and seeing their car, started waving them to stop. Blair did so immediately and allowed her friend to lower the window on her side.

- Good morning ma'am! - Started with a smile Daphne, but the woman did not share her enthusiasm, just quickly approached them and searched the car with her tired eyes.

- Do you know where Meredith is? She did not come home after you left, I do not know where she is, she does not answer my phone. - she began in a panicked voice, almost, crying there on the spot.

The girls exchanged glances and only after a while spoke up.

- Unfortunately, we don't know where she is either, we were the first to leave and the rest stayed there, we don't know who, how or with whom they came back," Blair explained, feeling the stress make her heart beat faster.

- When you see her, tell me, please. - She sighed, walking away as soon as the girls agreed to do so. Then they also looked at each other again.

- Did she come back with someone from us? - Asked Blair full of uncertainty about all this, Daphne shook her head negatively.

- She would speak up or someone would write something about it on the group, after all, we always do that. She didn't come back herself either, apparently. - She spoke quietly, searching in her head for some explanation for the situation, but nothing came to mind. She couldn't stay there on the spot, because someone, eventually, would take her away, she couldn't get lost either, because everyone was next to each other most of the time.

- This may sound strange, but did you hear a scream yesterday? Or did you see someone in the bushes? - She finally asked her friend, having had enough of holding the question in.

The blonde thought for a moment, until she leaned back against the seat and let out a breath.

- Not in the bushes, but when we were still sitting by the fire. I thought it was my alcohol-induced delusions, which is why I didn't tell anyone about it-.

- What did this person look like? Do you remember anything? - inquired the girl, feeling that she was about to be overwhelmed by panic.

- A tall person with a light-colored sweatshirt or whatever it was. He had his face covered.-

#marble hornets #slenderverse #mh masky #mh hoody #fanfic

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