#thanks to my past self for making enough gifs to post once a day for most of the year

[yoonia]

blooming wallflowers (m) | knj

⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again

⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader  ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation.  ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading!  ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints

⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission  ⟶ Read on AO3

On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together. 

But today is not one of those days. 

“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands. 

“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.” 

Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started. 

“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.  

“I am not!” 

“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.” 

Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!” 

Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry. 

Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it. 

Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter. 

You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute. 

Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now. 

Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something. 

She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon. 

“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them. 

You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries. 

For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things. 

“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—” 

Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn. 

“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry. 

Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to. 

Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment. 

“Hi there, do you need any help?” 

“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.” 

“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.” 

Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.” 

All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked. 

Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.” 

“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?” 

Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl. 

“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer. 

“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight. 

As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.” 

A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.” 

“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.” 

Find the beauty in the chaos. 

You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time. 

Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane. 

You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead. 

Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe. 

Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened. 

While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend. 

And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says. 

It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him. 

“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.” 

And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other. 

“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother. 

“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.” 

Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.” 

Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding. 

Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.” 

“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.” 

You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour. 

Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than. 

The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.” 

Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.” 

Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”

The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.” 

“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both. 

Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.” 

Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head. 

Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real? 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders. 

No, none of it involves you. 

Maybe. 

You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.” 

You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave. 

Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.” 

You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car. 

Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye. 

“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter. 

“Yes, um. You too.” 

Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls. 

“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.

“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.

“I’ll see you girls around!” 

Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving. 

Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon. 

Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all. 

There is truly no beauty in this chaos. 

Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.

It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse. 

But, of course, it eventually did. 

Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.

Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now. 

But must it happen when you are inside it?

The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself. 

You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm. 

At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself. 

It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together. 

You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt. 

“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation. 

You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space. 

“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little. 

“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator. 

It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away. 

Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in. 

Is the building really burning? 

Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?

What happens if help doesn’t come? 

What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope. 

Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—

A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way. 

"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”

"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."

You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.” 

Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall. 

Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.  

"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."

Safe. 

The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside. 

More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.

One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?” 

Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn. 

"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."

You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.

"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."

Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold. 

With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak. 

“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met. 

“I told you we’d meet again soon.”  

“Is this really necessary?” 

You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem. 

Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere. 

Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office. 

“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.” 

“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?” 

The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still. 

Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by. 

“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.” 

The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—” 

His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.

Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.” 

Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.” 

He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.” 

You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.” 

“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.” 

At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.” 

For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?” 

You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.” 

With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side. 

“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?” 

You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”

“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.” 

You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.” 

“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.” 

As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next. 

“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest. 

“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.” 

You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing. 

“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.  

“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”  

You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.” 

You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again. 

And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself. 

“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.” 

Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency. 

Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye. 

Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.” 

Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.” 

It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city. 

The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender. 

“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders. 

Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.” 

“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh. 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.” 

“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.” 

Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down. 

Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.  

Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive. 

He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more. 

He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled. 

He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago. 

It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away. 

Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—

He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so. 

“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.” 

Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.” 

Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.” 

Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.” 

“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink. 

Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild. 

“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?” 

“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.” 

As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time. 

“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink. 

“Sure. Anything.” 

“Do you believe in fate?” 

Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?” 

Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home. 

“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.” 

“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks. 

“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts, 

“To friendship.” 

Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?” 

“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.” 

Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?” 

“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home. 

“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.” 

Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.” 

Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.  

The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage. 

Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel.  It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it. 

“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side. 

“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter. 

You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at. 

You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.” 

Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.  

“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.” 

Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence. 

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows. 

You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself. 

As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”

Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.” 

“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over. 

“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”

Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips. 

“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”

“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?” 

“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”

Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.” 

 “Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this. 

You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender. 

“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going. 

The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone. 

Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing. 

You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it. 

Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years. 

As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all. 

Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—

Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name. 

“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach. 

“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?” 

“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.” 

Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them. 

“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon. 

“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.” 

You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.” 

Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?” 

“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?” 

You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes. 

Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink. 

It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night. 

Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night. 

Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.” 

“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?” 

You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once. 

“I think I’m going to stay.” 

Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.” 

You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame. 

“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.  

“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?” 

The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”

“Surprise me.” 

Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.” 

“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?” 

Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”

You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree. 

“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing. 

“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”

He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”

You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”

He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him. 

The look which shows a different kind of want.

And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more. 

It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right? 

Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it. 

But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance. 

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to. 

“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse. 

“Your place, or mine?”

A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer. 

You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?” 

Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his. 

“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him. 

“No, they’re at my parents.” 

A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?” 

You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.” 

Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this. 

In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come. 

He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless. 

“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh. 

Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home. 

In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips. 

He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer. 

“Of course.” 

“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you. 

“Since the fire alert?” 

“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.” 

Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls. 

No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates. 

“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.” 

Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?” 

With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—” 

You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?” 

Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—” 

Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.” 

You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you. 

As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it. 

Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life. 

“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.” 

Namjoon laughs. “What—?” 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss. 

“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—” 

It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once. 

“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home. 

As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see. 

Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air. 

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home. 

Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.  

Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you. 

He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss. 

For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss

Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue. 

He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours. 

The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his. 

Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.  

Tonight is going to be a good night.

As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door. 

It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer. 

You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot? 

Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way. 

Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does. 

As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from. 

It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions. 

While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste. 

You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards. 

Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.

Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night. 

He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”

Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms. 

A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles. 

You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt. 

His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso. 

It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you. 

You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more. 

Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp. 

“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him. 

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”  

He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time. 

You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look. 

“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you. 

Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly. 

The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand. 

Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath. 

“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.” 

Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.” 

“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach. 

“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control. 

He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead. 

With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs. 

Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.” 

He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin. 

Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings. 

Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself. 

Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?” 

“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.” 

At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders. 

Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more. 

Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him. 

Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss. 

His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making. 

In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom. 

His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment. 

Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth. 

Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release. 

“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm. 

Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release. 

“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.” 

“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles. 

“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him. 

Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.” 

Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you. 

It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you. 

As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further. 

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness. 

Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs. 

“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?” 

Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body. 

Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure. 

With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them. 

Dear God, help me. 

You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind. 

Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place. 

“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.  

“Everything okay?” 

You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.” 

Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.” 

Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.” 

His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.  

“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.” 

You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom. 

Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed. 

Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees. 

Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you. 

Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow. 

An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own. 

Desperation. 

Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel. 

Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done. 

Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name. 

His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you. 

Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs. 

You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds. 

His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure. 

With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core. 

With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other. 

It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body. 

Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high. 

Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.” 

His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry. 

You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss. 

Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth. 

This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm. 

With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips. 

Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance. 

“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.” 

He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed. 

The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again. 

You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze. 

He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath. 

“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.” 

You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit. 

Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over. 

“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.

His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late. 

The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.

“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.   

“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away. 

His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?” 

“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.” 

The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?” 

He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position. 

Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time. 

You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough. 

As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you. 

His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core. 

Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly. 

You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips. 

A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent. 

“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size. 

Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts. 

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free. 

Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now. 

These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.” 

Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers. 

With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it. 

Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin. 

Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns. 

“You’ve already came too many times, so—” 

Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.” 

Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod. 

Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.

“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow. 

Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other. 

Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy. 

“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still. 

Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you. 

“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core. 

“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.” 

With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop. 

“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body. 

It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies. 

It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking. 

“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat. 

You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste. 

He’s close. 

“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.

“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build. 

His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge. 

A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm. 

Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss. 

The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt. 

Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent. 

“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder. 

“Hmm…yes, it was…” 

A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say. 

Incredible. Astounding. 

“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 

You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him. 

Stay the night. 

The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon. 

“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes. 

“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?” 

“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?” 

Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more. 

You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin. 

You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time. 

Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.” 

Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.” 

You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?” 

His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines. 

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[sugrhigh]

CANT SLEEP - ( c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- chris stumbles across your instagram late at night, unable to contain himself from participating in some self pleasure. but when he accidentally likes an old post, things get even steamier.

warnings- onlyfans!reader x subby-ish!chris, phone (?) sex, pretty much smut with a little plot don’t say i didn’t warn you

a/n: say you can’t sleep, baby i know! she’s working late but she’s definitely not a singer! anyways i hope you guys didn’t forget about me and enjoy this little fic. and thank you to the non who requested! (if you hate it im so sorry)

fucking instagram.

chris has a love-hate relationship with social media; it feels annoyingly formal considering the fame, but he’s also mutuals with lots of beautiful women because of it.

so it’s admittedly fun to scroll through the app once he’s alone in his room for the night, just like he is now, tapping his thumb to leave a like on the posts that really catch his eye.

and then a suggestion pops up on his feed, a tempting picture from someone completely different: you.

it’s a newer photo, from a day ago. you’re on the beach somewhere in the caribbean, trendy sunglasses perched on your head, covered only by a skimpy orange bikini.

all dressed up in his favorite color, just by coincidence.

he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, exhaling a long breath out his nose as he analyzes further.

you’re laid out on your stomach by the ocean, ass fully on display as you prop yourself up on your elbows. it only presses your cleavage further together, an entirely mouthwatering sight. the lighting makes your eyes light up, mysterious smile frozen on your face.

call me on my shellphone.

chris smirks slightly at your caption, mainly because he actually does want to hit you up. but instead he clicks on your profile, intent on learning more.

his eyes widen slightly at your following; he can’t believe he’s never seen or heard of you before this. your email is in your bio, along with the pleasant surprise that you’re based in LA. then he sees the only fans link pasted underneath.

and as much as chris wants to click it, he won’t. at least, not yet. so he returns to your public posts, scrolling to find even more enticing photos.

there’s one of you in bed, hair fanned out around you, a suggestive finger between your teeth. you’re promoting a lingerie website, dressed in a sexy red set that leaves very little to the imagination.

then a picture of you leaning over the side of a pool, water beading on the slope of your back as you look down the lense, plush lips parted in faux-surprise.

he’s getting far too excited, and before he knows it he’s palming himself through his pants, admiring all of the revealing angles and outfits. chris finds himself thanking all of the companies sponsoring you.

a moment later he lands on a photo that quite literally leaves him breathless. you’re on your knees, bent over a little vanity stool with your legs spread wide apart. you’re glancing back at the camera, clothed pussy practically begging to escape the tiny blue thong covering it.

he’s applying pressure to his shaft in bursts now, teasing himself as his hips chase his fingers. it’s only when he glances back at his phone that he realizes he’s accidentally liked the post, from over four months ago. he was too focused on the movement of one hand that he forgot about the other.

his cheeks redden immediately, frozen in embarrassment as he yanks his hand away from his lap. he’s not sure what to do, and (un)luckily enough, you’ve already seen that he’s stalking.

when you check the notification you’re surprised, in the middle of your regular scroll now that you’re back in your room for the night. you’re still at a resort in the bahamas, enjoying a much-needed vacation (though you’re still occasionally working).

but looking at chris sturniolo’s big verified account in your likes, on a post from a while ago nonetheless, gets you a little excited. it surprises you, him being on your page, though you’ve always been a bit of a fan.

you click on his profile, going right to his messages since you already follow him. you’re mostly motivated by the fact that you’re buzzing off a few fruity drinks, so you type out two letters and hit send.

hi

the dm comes through his phone a second later. it’s just a simple little word, but chris grows even more sheepish at the fact that you did in fact see his little slip up.

he bites down on the inside of his cheek, unsure of whether or not he should respond. but he’s already in too deep, and he doesn’t want to act like a complete loser to you. so he uses he taps the keyboard.

hey

when you see that he’s answered, you feel yourself get a little bit giddy. you were really hoping you wouldn’t scare him away, and the fact that he’s rising to the challenge impresses you.

nice to see you in my likes

i’m quite the fan

chris’s heart quite literally skips a beat. you’re toying with him, but he also gets the sense that you like it, that you want more. he’s still ridiculously horny, and actually talking to you isn’t helping, but he doesn’t care.

i think i might be a bigger fan of you

it’s far bolder than he normally gets, especially online, and he kind of likes it way more than expected. you can feel your body heating up at his response, rolling over onto your stomach on top of the plush comforter.

your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip, gnawing on it as you consider what you want to say. you don’t want to be too forward, but it’s also the name of the game.

cute :)

what were you doing on my account this late at night christopher

he swears his face can’t get any more red. he instinctively looks at his lap, at his still-hard dick, and he decides that honesty might be the best policy.

lurking

because you turn me on

you fully smile now, happy that he’s continuing to match your energy. it’s impossible to ignore the way you’re throbbing now, imagining all of the dirty ways this conversation could go, so you keep it up.

oh really now

what’re you thinking about hmm

you, in my bed

in my hands

wish i could feel them right now

View Photo

here, specifically ;)

the photo notification sends his heart beating out of control, and his curious finger taps it open without hesitation. it’s a photo of your bare chest, perky tits exposed to the camera, shirt bunched up by your collarbone. your mouth is parted just a bit, and chris audibly sucks in a breath.

he’s already slipped his hand back into his sweats, really stroking his dick this time. he’s so fucking hot and bothered at this point that he’s sensitive as hell, and spreading his own wetness only adds to the effect.

holy shit

want my tongue all over you

chris is fumbling around with the keyboard, toying with himself as he continues the conversation because he never wants it to end.

you don’t want it to either, considering nobody has ever really piqued your interest like chris has. you’re practically dripping from the conversation, already soaking your thin silk shorts.

but at the end of the day this is still your job, and you can’t give everything away for free.

you should video chat me rn

link is in my bio x

and perhaps you underestimated him, because you get a notification a minute later that someone has requested a private video chat, which is insanely expensive to do because of your recent growth.

you know it’s chris, even though his username was definitely randomly generated. but people don’t pay frequently enough for it to be anyone else, so you open the app and initiate the call.

chris nearly crawls out of his skin when his phone starts buzzing, even though he was expecting it. he has no idea why he did this because he’s absolutely terrified, but the need took over and he had to really see you.

and now he is.

the call connects and you pop up, laid back against your pillows with your phone propped up on something he can’t see. you’re already topless, and a moan slips past his lips before he can help it.

“hey there.” you purr, smiling slightly from his little noise.

“fuck, even your voice is sexy.” he groans, bucking into his hand without a second thought.

it just feels so good, and having you on the phone is making it harder and harder for him to slow down. he doesn’t even care how obvious he’s being; why hide it now?

“aw, touching yourself already? how needy, i was hoping you’d wait for me.” you tease, one hand trailing from your neck to your breasts as you speak.

chris takes note of this, breath hitching as he watches you slide your fingers lower. you toy with the waistband of your tiny pajama pants, pulling them down so slowly that it makes him weak.

and then you spread your legs, fully revealing yourself now in the dim lighting from a lamp that’s somewhere out of sight. his mouth hangs open, pupils blown out in pure lust.

“god, i wish i could taste that pretty pussy right now.”

it slips out naturally, which amazes him because he’s never been very confident when it comes to dirty talk. but you bring it out of him.

and the least you can say is that you fucking love it. a sigh passes your lips as your fingers slide over your slit, enjoying his facial expressions as he strokes his own cock.

“mm, i just know your mouth would feel so good,” you praise, yearning for more of him in a way that forces you to continue, “let me see you, baby. wanna watch you get off with me.”

chris’s cheeks flush slightly at the request, but he would do just about anything you asked at this point, so he blindly adjusts his camera angle. now you can see that he’s got his sweats pushed down, shirt resting above his happy trail, dick in one hand while he holds his phone in the other.

“fuck, you’d fill me up perfectly too.” you tell him truthfully, applying more pressure to your clit in fast circles at the sight.

he whimpers as he pumps even faster, spurred on by your words and your actions. he ogles as one hand teases your nipples, simultaneously plunging the other into your cunt.

that’s when chris finally hears a moan slip past your lips, and he swears he’s in heaven.

“shittt.” you slur, driving your two fingers deep into your entrance over and over, wishing they were chris’s instead.

“so fuckin sexy, m’not gonna be able to last much longer.” he compliments, even though he’s barely able to string the sentence together.

not that there would be any right words to describe the way he’s feeling. this is not at all how he thought his day was going to turn out, but it has to be the best turn it could’ve taken. his muscles are tightening, and the familiar pit in his stomach is growing.

“keep going. want you to come for me, pretty boy.” your voice is sultry and strained as you build your own orgasm up, clenching around your own hand as you curl them inside yourself expertly.

chris throws his head back, biting down hard on his lip to contain the primal growl crawling up his throat.

the pet name is just the nail in the coffin. his dick twitches and he knows he’s only a few strokes away from finishing, so he draws it out of himself in a way that allows him to relish the feeling.

the sight of him unraveling makes your head spin, and the rubber band in your own stomach suddenly snaps. you’re a shuddering mess, riding your orgasm out as you whine his name.

usually you’re careful to not let yourself get too into it, never falling deep enough in the fantasy. but then again, it’s not every day that a guy like chris ends up in your likes.

it’s unfamiliar territory for each of you in different way, but at the same time neither of you want this to be the last time you interact. his chest heaves, and you take a brief moment of silence to catch your breath.

“wow, that was…” he trails off, because he has no idea what to say now.

“yeah,” you nod, sly smile lighting your features up, “i think you’re my new favorite customer.”

-

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @inkyray @impureals @chrisactualwife @snowysosturn @fikefries @riasturns @beccaluvschris @realuvrrr @mattstromboli @pepsiboyy @gdsvhtwa @ginswife @ivonchetooo1239 @julescameronmf @autsturni @beach4life @mattspolitank @cupidsword @mattssturnz @anonymouslyachrisgirl @aflairforthedramattic @literallyjustrue @p1nkm6tter @vschrissturn @mattsturniolox @bigbeefybitch @tpwktahlz @goldengrapejuice @cherrybombpopcs @hrtz4alex2211 @sturnsjtop @slutformeganfox @katw4shereee @lizzy7777 @st4niolos @bigdic7821 @justalittle47 @mattsdirtylittlehoe @iihrtsturniol0 @bellasashylegs @xoxo4chrisss @miloisdone1

[freelancearsonist]

so scarlet, it was...

➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader - series masterlist

➔ 1.3k words

➔ “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”

➔ Rated MA for dark fic kinda, a/b/o themes (alpha joel, omega reader), established... situationship? i guess, pregnancy/contemplation of termination, contemplation of self harm, reader is not in a good headspace. one instance of vomiting, joel is not very nice, this fic in general is not very nice. takes place three years post outbreak. [please let me know if i missed any warnings so i can add them in :)]

➔ thank you so much to my darling @bitchwitch1981 for the prompt, i'm so sorry this is probably very much not what you wanted 🤣 extra special thank you to @perotovar for making this wonderful joel gif for me, if ur reading this ily <3

You’ve never actually used one of these things before. You’ve only read about them in books or seen them in movies from years ago, and they’ve only ever been an object of abject horror.

You understand why now, looking down at those two little lines on the stick cradled in your hand. You’ve never been quite so terrified in your life.

You never should’ve pocketed this test when you found it in that miraculously untouched drug store. You could’ve stayed blissfully unaware. Better yet, you should’ve been more careful. Three years of living like this has been more than enough to make you firm in your decision to never bring life into this broken world. This isn’t a place for a child, this is barely even a place for you. Every day is a fight, every waking moment is a nightmare. But you’ve been so careless with him and now it’s all crashing down, this blissful bubble where you can pretend that everything might be okay because you have the pack and, more importantly, him. 

You won’t have him for much longer when he finds out about this.

You wonder what it’ll take to right this wrong before he finds out about it. It must be pretty early, so maybe it won’t take much to reverse it. Maybe all you’ll have to do is bump into something just right, or trip over the right log.

The thought makes you sick–more stomach bile than anything else coming up because you’ve hardly had more to eat than stale beef jerky and some precarious berries in the past few days. Resources have been so slim; another reason this can’t be happening. You hardly have enough to tide you over, much less a child. And it’ll be even worse once the pack abandons you.

You bury yourself into the haphazard nest of blankets and his worn clothes, letting the heavy, musky scent of him soothe your wracking sobs. 

Maybe you should just accept your fate now, sacrifice yourself for the good of the pack. Everyone is going to die eventually, after all–sooner rather than later in this world. You’ve only been postponing the inevitable. They never have to know why you do it, and it’ll be one less mouth to feed. Two, technically, but they’ll never have to know that. He won’t even really miss you, it’ll be one less burden on his hands. On all of their hands.

You don’t hear them return early from scavenging–maybe because the volume of your own sobs drowns out any other noise. Or maybe because he can sense something is wrong as he enters the run-down little shack you’ve been holed up in for the past few weeks, and he softens his approach because of it.

Joel has never been quite as tender as he is when he takes you into his arms, pulling your face out of the pile of fabric to wipe at your tear-streaked cheeks.

“My omega, shhhh, I’m here. It’s okay,” he murmurs, wrapping you into his big, strong, safe arms. He doesn’t know. Maybe he thinks you had a nightmare, or you just missed him, or a million other things except the truth. But he doesn’t know, and you know he doesn’t know because you feel the moment he connects the dots. His eyes drop to the little white stick clutched tightly in your fist and his entire body stiffens like a board. Suddenly there’s no more warmth or comfort to his touch, nothing soothing about the pheromones drifting from him. He pulls away like you’re infected, and maybe you are. Maybe the thing that’s taken root in you is worse than cordyceps could ever hope to be.

You’ve never been terrified of him before. Joel is dark and brooding and imposing, but he’s only ever fought to protect you. His omega, who wormed their way under his skin despite him fighting it every step of the way. His omega, who’s been the only source of anything remotely close to comfort he’s had since outbreak day. His omega, who’s given him purpose in this dark world.

His omega, who’s betrayed him in such an unforgivable way.

“What the fuck.” There’s nothing but venom in his tone–he looks at you with pure disgust and your resolve crumbles.

Maybe there was a little, tiny, miniscule part of you that hoped it would be different. That he would be excited to be a father, or at least be understanding. But that hope dies so suddenly when you look up into his scowling face. He towers over you, dark eyes flashing with anger, and for the first time since you met him two long years ago you’re scared.

“You were supposed to be careful.” His voice rises further and further with each syllable, as if this isn’t partially his fault too. As if he wasn’t the one in such an uncontrollable rut last month that he kept you in bed all week, losing the willpower required to pull out with each powerful thrust of his hips. As if it isn’t his seed blooming in your womb as you speak.

“What do we do now, huh?” He growls, eyes darkening, fists clenching at his sides. “I’ve fucking marked you, I can’t turn you loose! And we barely make it by as we are! How the fuck are we supposed to handle this?”

He rants for what seems like hours and you flinch with every booming word, curling tighter around yourself in a desperate attempt to simply disappear; to not have to deal with this any more because your heart shatters with each irreversible word he throws at you. You shrink and shrink and shrink in hopes of vanishing because this is undoable. No matter what happens, nothing will ever go back to the way it was and that’s the knowledge that crushes you completely.

Your voice is so small when he finally quiets enough for you to speak. “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”

Joel stops in his tracks, white knuckles unclenching for the first time in minutes. He sees the fear and regret in your eyes, and he almost lets it soften him. He loathes himself for this look on your face–for making you scared of him.

His omega. So small and fragile, curled in a pile of his clothes because his scent brings you comfort. He’s dedicated two years of his time and effort to keeping you safe and comfortable, if not happy. He’s supposed to protect you, not hurt you. He’s supposed to give you children and raise them with you, be a family with you. That’s what being your alpha means, and he has so sorely failed you. 

But he knows he can never do that again. That’s never what this was supposed to be. He didn’t mark you out of anything but necessity–if he had let your uncontrolled scent waft every time you went into heat, every alpha in the country would be targeting your little pack of four. You’re his omega out of biological necessity–a warm hole to fill when his rut threatens to tear already strenuous ties with his brother and Tess. That’s what he tells himself because the alternative is so startlingly incomprehensible that he won’t allow himself to even consider the fact that he might care about you; that the urge to care for you and protect you is more than primal, biological instinct; that you mean more to him than anyone ever has.

Not just his omega now, but his mate. His unborn child is growing and growing and growing with each passing second inside your womb and he’s powerless to stop it.

“We’re thirty-seven miles from the Boston QZ,” he growls from somewhere deep in his chest. “We leave at first light.”

You don’t get a chance to argue or plead your case before the door slams shut behind him. 

➔ beta: @beskarandblasters and @fhatbhabie

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[fortheloveofwonderland]

Rusty | Chapter 11 | S.R

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A/N - Just an FYI - the fics being posted now were finished months ago. I haven't written anything for the fandom in quite a long time and at present have no drive to do so. Once Midnight and Rusty are finished posting that will be it from me for the forseeable. Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Chapter Summary - Spencer pushes through another barrier on his way to recovery. But when a face from his past shows up out of the blue it threatens to destroy everything between the two of you.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - male masturbation, Spencer’s incredibly dirty thoughts, brief mention of three ways, handjobs, oral sex (f receiving) and penetrative sex (both p in v and p in a) all by way of Spencer’s imagination (Spencer is basically writing his own smut fic in his head), self inflicted wounds, talk of weight loss, swearing, arguing, yelling, tears, sad Luke, bit of a cliff hanger ending. WC - 7.6k

Chapter 11 - All My Ex's Live in Texas

The sentiment, to be able to love someone we must first learn how to love ourselves, felt oddly poignant in this moment, as Spencer stood in his bedroom, in front of the full-length mirror tucked away in his closet. 

It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, he often gave himself a cursory glance before he left the lodge of a morning, giving himself a brief once over. 

It also wasn’t something he made a habit of doing. He kept the mirror inside the closet for the purposes of not having to look at himself for long periods of time. 

But this was for entirely therapeutic purposes. 

And the idea of having to love oneself before allowing others into our heart rang true in an entirely different way. 

Spencer needed to be able to engage himself physically before he could expect anyone else to do the same. 

It had been four days since his trip to Doctor Ortega’s office. In those four days the two of you had participated in a string of increasingly heavier make out sessions, three of which fervent enough to yet again cause Spencer to come in his pants, but as yet had not graduated onto anything more intimate. 

Yesterday the two of you had ridden your respective mares into Pipe Creek for Spencer to collect his new prescription and Doctor Ortega had caught him on his way out. 

She’d taken him aside and reminded him that in order to take back control of his own body, he had to truly own it himself before he frivolously tried to hand it over to someone new. 

And that’s what led him here. Standing in front of his full-length mirror, naked as the day he was born. 

The only part of his body that was concealed was his casted arm, he’d even gone as far as to remove the dressings from his bicep, thigh and stomach. 

The wounds were all at various stages of healing, scabbing over and starting to scar. They would all leave their marks upon his skin for the rest of his life, a constant reminder that he’d been to hell but was desperately trying to claw his way back. 

He focused on them for longer than necessary, trying to distract his mind from the task at hand for as long as he possibly could. You’d gone to the grocery store with Rusty and wouldn’t be back for a while. He had time for his introspective. 

He inspected each cut with a keen eye, taking note of how each brandished him, pictured what they’d look like once solid and pink against his alabaster flesh. 

This was not an activity Spencer relished. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at his naked form in such a manner. It felt clinical. Yet another experiment. 

Spencer liked experiments so he tried to keep that in mind as he took himself in as a whole before slowly ingesting each individual facet that made the full Spencer Reid picture. 

Start at the top, work his way down. Cold, removed, distant. 

Still got a good head of hair, not like William. Good hair. Thick hair. No greys. Almost forty and no greys. That’s pretty good going considering the stress I’ve been under. 

Nice eyes. Friendly eyes, that’s what JJ called them. Or was it kind eyes? Nice no less. Brown with gold flecks mom always used to point out. 

Bags under the eyes aren’t so nice. When did they get so purple? I look like I’ve never slept a day in my life. 

Nose. Lips. Chapped lips, such dry lips. How does Y/N kiss me? Need to buy chapstick. Must remember to buy chapstick. 

Need to shave. Or do I? I don’t hate the stubble, it makes me look tougher. Wonder what Y/N’s opinion on it is? Maybe I should ask her. 

His eyes trailed slightly lower to his torso. 

Still so skinny. Didn’t I put on weight? Where did that go? Mom always says I look like I’m not eating. Have I been eating? When did I get this skinny?

Lost weight in prison. Couldn't eat after…my mouth was always too sore. Thought I’d put it back on. Did I lose it again? How? When? 

He raised his hand in absent-mindedness and ran his fingers along the visible bones of his sternum, protruding through his milky skin. He pulled a face and dropped his hand again, somewhat unamused. 

His eyes briefly flitted back over the cut on his left side, garnering his attention once again before flicking to his stomach. 

Definitely lost weight, but how? Hip bones are more prominent. Got one of those little v-cut muscles I was always jealous of on Luke. Did I get that from riding? It does require core strength. I’ve never noticed it before. 

He continued quickly past the appendage where his attention was supposed to be, down to his legs. He’d always had strong thighs, thick thighs but they were somehow even meatier than he remembered. 

Is that from riding too? Must be. Good legs, definitely not terrible legs. Sturdy. Load bearing. 

I’m stalling. 

He closed his eyes with a loud huff, feeling incredibly self conscious all of a sudden. Opening his eyes again he forced his gaze between his legs where his flaccid member hung in a bed of pubic hair. 

And here we are, the thorn in my side. The bane of my goddamn existence. My…

…it’s not gonna get hard if you berate it. 

He grit his teeth and stared almost aggressively at the length of flesh and muscle between his legs. 

Masturbation should not be this difficult. 

It felt forced. He wasn’t aroused, not even a little. On the occasions in his life he had turned to self pleasure, it was only because he was incredibly horny, which wasn’t a regular occurrence for him unless he was in the act itself. 

He’d never just sat and thought I’m bored, maybe I could jerk one off. What was normal protocol here? 

His new phone had the internet and he would probably be able to look up a porn site. But what porn? Spencer didn’t even know what kind of porn he liked. 

He found both men and women attractive, where would he even begin? In an ideal world, what kind of sexual desire would…oh…oh! 

He stared at his cock as it twitched very slightly, heart beat picking up at the simple thought. He kept his eyes trained downwards while he contemplated it again. 

I like both men and women, I find them equally attractive. Specifically one man and one woman so what if I could have both? 

Again he twitched, before his very eyes his cock started to swell. His mouth fell open, chest heaving with his breaths. 

Y/N and Luke? Together? And me. All three of us. Together. Touching. Kissing. Or I could just watch, I’d be pretty happy to watch. 

Again he was amazed by the sudden jerk of his shaft, swelling slowly but surely. 

Oh this could work. I think this might work. 

He wrapped his hand around his shaft without too much thought in case he might talk his way out of this. He was only semi-erect but the speed in which it had happened meant he could be fully aroused in no time. 

He kept his eyes open, trying to force himself to watch as he started his slow strokes but his mind was wandering quickly down a sinful rabbit hole. 

Standing over them while she straddles him, her bare thighs pressed against his bare thighs, taking hold of his hard cock in her hand. 

Hearing Luke moan as his Adam’s apple bobs at her touch. Her beautiful, petite hand, unable to wrap all the way around his shaft. But she tries, she tries so hard. She wants to make him feel good, wants to give me a show.

Luke’s looking up at me, his eyes blown out with lust. 

“Come closer, cariño, let me touch you.” 

Oh how I happily oblige. 

Whilst she’s stroking Luke I kneel on the bed next to them and Luke is immediately taking me in his own large hand. I moan and my head falls back against my shoulders at his touch. 

He strokes me in time with her strokes on him. The sound of flesh on flesh echoing in the room. Moans and heavy breaths. 

There’s another hand on my jaw, I look at her and she draws me in for a deep kiss. Her tongue explores my mouth while Luke’s hand pumps my cock. 

My other hand finds her breast and I knead it beneath my fingers, pinching her hardened nipple in my hand. 

Yep, that’ll do it. 

He was fully erect in his hand now, stroking himself at an almost furious pace. His hand twisted and tightened, staring at his cock in his own hand in the mirror. 

Laying on my back and she’s on top of me, lowering herself down, slowly, slowly. Inch by inch I watch myself disappear inside her silken walls. I can feel the way her body stretches and pulls around my hard cock. 

Luke is behind her, palming her tits, kissing her neck. She’s whining, moaning because she’s so tight and I’m so big. 

“How does he feel, baby?” Luke whispers against her flesh once I’m completely sheathed inside of her.

“Fuck, he feels so good.” She starts to rock back and forth on top of me, eyes staring intently down at me. 

One of Luke’s hands travels downwards, to the juncture where our bodies meet. His index finger pressing against her clit. 

She vibrates around me, sending shockwaves down my cock. The moan that leaves my lips is nothing short of feral. 

Frantically fisting his own cock whilst imagining the pleasures of being with the both of you and his head was already leaking against hand. He swiped his thumb through it, legs buckling a little at the sensation and using his precum as lube. 

He was gnawing on his lip, watching the way his cock throbbed in his hand. It was a heady sight to behold. He thought he’d be disgusted by it. Was it wrong that it turned him on more? 

He looked good like this, strong, virile, dare he even say, sexy? He felt powerful as he watched his face contort in the pleasure he was bestowing upon himself. His staunch thighs shook beneath him. 

His thick and heavy length pulsed against his palm. 

She’s on her back, legs spread for me. I leave a trail of kisses across her soft skin but I’m in a hurry, I need to get to my final destination. 

Once my face is buried between her folds, I lap up at her arousal before my tongue settles on her swollen bud. She writhes beneath me at the contact, trying to move away. But I stop her with an arm across her abdomen. 

She moans and screams as I take her in my mouth, suckling on her sensitive clit. Like a man possessed I work between her legs, like she’s my favourite meal. 

I can feel a heat behind me, and hands on my hips guiding me up onto my knees. I comply because I’m so wrapped up in the way she tastes on my tongue. 

Then there’s something pressing into me from behind, I’m being stretched but in the best possible way. 

As Luke fills me up I moan into her core, making her squirm. The sounds in the room are melting into the walls, the smell of sex is heavy in the air. 

Luke thrusts into me hard and fast and I take two fingers and plunge them inside of her waiting heat while keeping my mouth on her desperate clit. 

She’s rocking against my face, coating my lips and chin in her arousal as my fingers sink inside of her. 

Luke is grunting as he fucks me, filling me up in a way I haven’t been filled in so long. Between my legs I can feel my cock twitching, pulsing, close to the edge without being touched. 

“Oh fuck,” Spencer mumbled, legs trembling. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ.” 

More precum leaked from his tip, coating his hand as he thought of eating you out while Luke fucked him. His head was hazy, his breaths ragged.

“Fuck, Spence, I’m close. So close.” She screams as I plunge my fingers in and out of her and swipe my tongue over her clit. 

Luke’s thrusts are growing more violent, his balls slapping against my ass. 

“Make her come, Spence. You can do it, cariño.” Luke encouraged me and I pick up my speed.

Soon enough I feel her walls clenching around my fingers and she’s coming undone at my will. She’s convulsing beneath me and I know it’s all because of me. 

And as I feel her coming, moaning my name, my own orgasm starts to pinch at my stomach and I know it won’t be long before I’m…

…“fuck, fuck, fuck!” Spencer screamed as he gripped the base of his shaft and started splattering streaks of his come all over the mirror. 

He kept stroking himself through his orgasm, his legs undulating back and forth as he expelled himself on the reflective surface, covering his hand in his sticky seed. 

He watched every small movement of his body, his quivering thighs, his leisurely strokes on his spent cock, his chest dragging up and down with each shallow breath. 

His brain was foggy but his vision was exceedingly clear. He was fascinated by the way his body moved, how one small ripple in one muscle caused another to flex and so on and so forth. 

The contours of his body seemed so sharp in his post orgasm haze, every pull or push, every pulse, every dilation. 

He’d never looked upon himself with such startling clarity before as his shaft started to soften in his hand, it was all becoming clear.

This is my body. I can see it. I can feel it. My body belongs to me. My body doesn’t belong to anyone but me. 

I am whole. I am whole. 

I am Spencer Reid and I am whole. 

He was so lost in his newfound captivation of his own frame, he didn’t hear you enter the lodge or call his name. He also didn’t hear the bedroom door open or your footsteps on the wooden floor.

It wasn’t until your face appeared in the reflection behind him that he registered his company. 

“Uh, hi?” A smirk adorned itself on your features as you regarded him, soft cock in his hand and the distinctive come stains on the mirror. 

You couldn’t stop your gaze flitting up and down his body. You’d never seen him completely naked before, uninhibited, exposed. 

You tried to make a mental note of every dip and curve of his glorious body. He really was a sight to behold.

“Hi,” he replied, returning your smile. 

“Everything okay here?” 

He let go of his length, turned to face you. His pupils were blown out wide. 

“More than okay.” He nodded. 

And suddenly he advanced on you, smashing his lips against yours and not caring in the slightest that he was naked and sticky with his own come. 

He grabbed at you, pawed at you hungrily. His wandering hands got you out of your clothes in no time at all and soon the two of you were falling back to the bed. 

He was on top of you, kissing you with reckless abandon. He could already feel himself growing hard again between your bodies. 

His tongue desperately explored your mouth as though it were the first time, he manoeuvred you both so he was on his back and you were straddling him. 

He hissed as he got an unhindered sight of your breasts as you sat atop him. Needy hands wandered until they were palming them, pinching your nipples between his deft fingers until they stood to attention, not allowing himself to be impeded by his cast. 

You moaned and rocked back and forth on top of him, his hard cock gliding between your folds. Spencer whined and bucked against you. 

He removed his hands, letting his casted arm fall back to his side. His good hand circled around your wrist, gripping it tight and moving your hand so it hovered above his cock.

You stared at him, silently questioning him. Spencer simply nodded in response and let go of your wrist. 

You sucked in a breath, cautious as you lowered your hand closer to his throbbing member. When your hand wrapped around his base he moaned in fervour. 

His eyes rolled back into his skull, back arching off the bed. You slowly started to move your hand up and down around him but he was soon bucking into your hand, setting the pace for you.

His desperation was evident in the surges of his hips snapping back and forth fiercely. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his eyes landed on you again. 

He smiled up at you, the ethereal being perched on his thighs whilst working to bring him the utmost pleasure. 

He was whole. He was finally beginning to feel whole. 

***

It was getting late by the time the BAU finally wrapped up in Texas. Luke had agreed with Rossi that he would take one day off to visit Spencer before he joined them back at Quantico. 

Given the hour, Luke intended on getting a hotel for the night in Bandera town. He drove those forty some miles north from San Antonio in his SUV, fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel as he tuned into a country and western radio station. 

The back seat was full of gifts and cards which Garcia had sent to the police precinct for Luke to deliver to their old friend for his birthday which was just a few days away. 

Luke’s nerves flooded his body, causing his stomach to form into tight knots. The closer he got to Bandera, the more anxious he grew, palms sweating against the wheel. 

He was under no illusion that Spencer would be happy to see him, especially with him showing up unannounced. But in Luke’s defence he had tried to call Spencer several times over the last few days to inform him of his visit. It wasn’t his fault Spencer didn’t answer. 

It was nearing eleven pm by the time Luke arrived in Bandera and try as he might he couldn’t get himself to the hotel. 

He couldn’t wait another minute. He needed to see Spencer now. 

He took the turning off the main road with the directions Garcia had sent him. He drove a little ways up a dirt track until he came to a stop next to another car. 

Killing the engine he frowned himself. He didn’t think Spencer had a car. He supposed he could have purchased one any time. 

He slid out of the SUV, dropping to the dirt and closed the door behind him. There was a small single storey lodge a few hundred yards up on the left. 

There was a light on. 

Luke swallowed, smoothing out his shirt and running his fingers through his hair. His chest swelled with nerves and his legs shook a little as he started towards the lodge. 

***

Spencer’s second orgasm seemed to come quicker than the first, your small, dainty hand bringing him to completion in no time at all. Chest heaving with his breaths, he immediately pulled you down by the back of your neck so he could kiss you. 

He was whole. He was whole. They didn’t win. 

He kissed you fiercely, his come sticky between your bodies but neither of you minded. His hand stayed on the back of your neck, pinning you to him. 

“You’re amazing.” He mumbled against your lips. 

“No, you’re amazing.” You replied. 

You wanted to tell him you were proud of him but you didn’t want to make a big deal of it or have him think you were patronising him. Instead you continued kissing him, grinding your bodies together as you did so. 

Spencer felt like every single one of his nerve endings were on fire. He was overstimulated, he could feel every thread of the sheets beneath him, feel every negligible movement of your body as it moved against his own. 

It was eye opening. He’d forgotten how this was supposed to feel. Intimacy wasn’t meant to make him feel guilty, pleasure wasn’t designed to cause him pain. 

He’d neglected to remember how it should feel. Two bodies coming together, becoming one. Becoming whole. 

He felt as though he could well be floating, his body lighter than air. He needed more. He needed so much more. He needed everything and he needed it with you. 

He gripped the back of your neck firmly, tongue roughly exploring the deepest recesses of your mouth. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room alongside soft moans and the friction of skin on skin. 

And for the second time that night, Spencer didn’t hear the door to his cabin open or the heavy footsteps on his hardwood floor.

***

Worryingly, Luke found the door to Spencer’s lodge was ajar, not quite closed all the way. His hand immediately pressed against the butt of his gun in its holster, ready just in case. In his experience, nothing good came from doors being left open. Least of all way out here in the sticks. 

He hesitantly pushed it open and took a step inside. The space was small and mostly full of books which didn’t surprise him at all. There were a few paper grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Nothing looked out of place or disturbed. 

He let his hand fall back to his side, trying to calm his erratically beating heart. Spencer could be scatty sometimes, perhaps he’d just been in a hurry. There was nothing to panic about. 

He stepped closer towards the closed door past the kitchen, for which he assumed was the bedroom. It was only as he drew closer that he started to register the sounds of heavy breathing.

His first thought was that Spencer might be having a panic attack. He’d had them a lot after prison, Luke knew all too well what they looked like. Perhaps he’d started to have one when he arrived home with groceries, it would explain why the door wasn’t closed properly and why the bags were still on the counter. 

Another wave of unease washed over him and he quickly pushed open the door without a second thought. 

The two bodies on the bed came into view and Luke felt as though the whole world came crumbling down around him in a single second. The body on top with their back to him was definitely female. The body beneath, laying on the bed was obscured from view but Luke would recognise those soft moans anywhere. 

“Wow,” he croaked out the single word as tears flooded his vision. 

Spencer suddenly sat up in bed, glaring at Luke over your shoulder. His mouth fell open, eyes wide in shock at the ghost standing in his doorway.

“L-Luke?” He stuttered. 

“Luke?” You hissed without looking over your shoulder. “As in…?” 

“Hmm.” Spencer nodded. 

You were still in his lap, trying to hide your naked frame against Spencer’s. You needed to leave. You couldn’t be part of this. You swung yourself off of the bed and in one swift move sprinted to the bathroom before you could give this stranger an eyeful. 

You’d left Spencer exposed and he quickly pulled the sheet around his body despite the fact Luke had seen him naked hundreds of times before. He hadn’t seen this version of him though, the one with the cuts and scabs from self abuse. He stared at Luke and Luke and him. Seconds seemed like hours.

He noticed Luke’s gaze flicker down to his arm and his brows pinched together.

“What happened to your arm?” Luke asked in concern. 

Spencer didn’t know whether he meant the cast or the cut on his bicep but he didn’t ask. 

“Riding accident.” Spencer clenched his jaw. “What are you…why are you here?” 

“We were in town for a case. I tried to call, you didn’t answer. The door was open and I thought something might have happened to you.” The hurt in Luke’s voice was palpable and Spencer felt a little guilty that he’d had to walk into this. 

“Uh, lemme get dressed okay? I’ll meet you outside?” Spencer chewed on the tip of his tongue, half thinking his overstimulated brain was imagining the man in front of him. 

Had he given over so entirely to his fantasy that it had begun to feel real? Was this all part of his vivid speculation? Was he in fact still masturbating in front of his mirror? 

No, it was all too real. The sadness in Luke’s eyes, the way his shoulders slumped with the weight of seeing his ex in bed with someone else. The way you’d so hurriedly scampered off to the bathroom. 

This was real life, even if it did feel like a nightmare. 

Luke nodded stiffly and turned about on his heels. Spencer watched his retreating form pad out of the bedroom and close the door behind him. 

Spencer got to his feet and started gathering up his clothes from the floor. He tapped on the bathroom door as he was fighting with his boxers.

“Are you okay?” He called when he got no answer. 

“Your ex is here, what do you think!” You hissed in response. 

“I had no idea he was coming here, Y/N. I didn’t invite him.” He was stuffing his legs back in his jeans, trying to ignore the way the fabric scratched his open wounds. 

“What the hell is he doing here then?” 

“I don’t know! I have no idea.” He grabbed his t-shirt whilst still working on the button of his jeans. “I need to deal with this, hopefully I won’t be long.” 

“Okay.” You whispered, hearing his footsteps head away from the door. 

He pulled the t-shirt down over his torso as he swung open the bedroom door. Through the window in the front door he could see Luke pacing the length of his porch. 

Spencer exhaled, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it from his previous activities. He swallowed around his dry tongue and stepped towards the door. 

A frigid burst of air hit him as he stepped outside, joining Luke on the porch. Luke stopped in his tracks and glanced at Spencer. Even in the darkness he could see the tears in Luke’s eyes. 

“So, you’ve moved on, huh?” Luke folded his arms across his chest. 

“It’s been two years, what did you expect?” Spencer shrugged. 

He hated that even after all this time Luke could still cause all the air to leave his lungs. He looked much the same as Spencer remembered in his mind's eye that last time he saw him. He had an extra few creases around his eyes, a few more greys peppering his hairline, but otherwise he remained unchanged.

“What did I expect? Well for starters I expected more from you than leaving without a damn word! I expected that you wouldn’t completely cut me out of your life! I expected…maybe I hoped that I wasn’t the only one still pining like an idiot.” He choked back a sob. “So she gets the healed Spencer Reid? She gets to have you now you’ve worked through your trauma? When I was the one that spent a year by your side after, trying to help you? How is that fair?” 

“You think I’m healed?” Spencer’s voice raised a little. “You think I’ve worked through my trauma?”

“It looks that way to me. I seem to remember the last time I tried to get you into that position you pinned my arm behind my back!” Luke spat. 

“You have no idea what this is like for me.” Spencer shook his head angrily. “She is the first person I have been able to get close to and even still I’m terrified I’m only one second away from breaking down at all times. It’s been four years and this is the closest I’ve come to moving past what happened to me but I am by no means suddenly shiny and new. I haven’t had sex with her, is that what you want to hear? At this point I’m not even sure I can! 

“You can’t just show up here after two years and think you know what I’m going through. I have to take medication every day just so I am not completely crippled by my trauma. I blackout when the stress gets too much, I dissociate because my mind can’t handle the pain. Don’t come here and assume you know what I’m going through. You have no idea.” 

In the bathroom you heard raised voices outside and worried about Spencer’s rising anger and what could happen if he let it get out of control. You snuck back out and found your clothes, quickly redressing and creeping into the living room. 

From the kitchen you could see them through the glass pane in the front door without them being able to see you were watching. You told yourself you weren’t eavesdropping, you just wanted to be ready in case Spencer needed grounding. 

You tucked yourself away in the corner, eyes on the side of Luke’s face. You felt that swell of familiarity again that you couldn’t place. Your fingers kneaded your achy jaw as you listened.

“You were supposed to come back! I gave you time, I gave you space. I thought if I did those things you would come back and we would be okay again.” Luke rubbed his eyes to try and stem his tears.

“That’s not my fault, Luke. I didn’t ever give you a reason to believe that would be the case. I’m sorry I left without telling you, I know I should have said goodbye. But I can’t change that. This is my life now, I have no intentions of coming back to DC. I’m sorry if you thought that I would, but I never gave any indication that I would.” Spencer rubbed his hand on his jeans, focusing on the rough texture. 

He needed to stay tethered, he couldn’t let the anger bubble and cause his mind to detach. 

“Did you love me?” Luke’s voice pitched. “Did you ever really love me like you said you did?” 

You knew that voice, you were sure of it. You just couldn’t place it. 

“How can you even ask me that?” Spencer softened. “Of course I did.” 

“But it was easier for you to run away than try and make things work with the man you supposedly loved?” Luke exhaled. 

“I had to leave. After everything that happened, after Merva, it was just too much. I needed to get away from DC, away from it all.” Spencer sniffed loudly. 

“You could have talked to me instead of running away, Spencer. It’s what I was there for. But you never talked to me.” 

“I couldn’t talk to you, Luke. I couldn’t talk to anyone. I just wanted to forget.” Spencer’s eyes filled with tears and he rubbed his palm roughly against his thigh, focused on the material of his jeans. 

“You know I know what happened right?” Luke shrugged. “I know what happened to you in prison. I read the medical reports.” 

Spencer froze. His rampant rubbing of his thigh stopped, he felt like his breathing stopped. He glared at Luke while he processed his words. 

He’d read the report. He’d known all along. 

Inside your brows pinched together. Prison? Spencer was in prison? Surely you must have the wrong end of the stick? Spencer did not seem like the type. There must be something you were missing. 

“You…how could you?” Spencer croaked. “How could you do that to me?” 

“You wouldn’t talk to me. I was worried about you.” 

“Worried? You were worried? So you invaded my privacy? Those reports were not your concern Luke! I figured Prentiss would have to see them but you…I can’t believe you would do that to me.” Spencer’s voice raised again and felt the anger in his stomach. 

Deep breaths, take deep, calming breaths. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. Feel something beneath your hand, ground yourself. This will be okay. One, two, three, four, five.

“Maybe if you’d talked to me I wouldn’t have felt the need to.” Luke didn’t know why he was trying to justify himself, he knew what he’d done was wrong. “How did you ever get cleared to come back to work? You were clearly struggling.” 

“Oh please, we wrote those questions. You think after fifteen years of profiling I didn’t know the right things to say to the bureau shrink so she would reinstate me?” Spencer clucked. 

“Did you ever tell her you were ra-”

“Don’t you dare you say it.” Spencer cut him off. “Don’t you dare.” 

Your head was spinning with the new information. Prison. Profiling. Bureau? What did this all mean? Your cell phone was on the counter next to the bags and you reached for it before hiding back in your corner. The arguing continued outside while you brought up a Google search. 

Spencer Reid + bureau

Within less than a second, hundreds of search results popped up on the little screen, articles upon articles. You quickly skim read some of the search results as your hand shook around the device. 

The youngest academy graduate recruited to the FBI’s illustrious Behavioral Analysis Unit, twenty two year old Doctor Spencer Reid…

With his three PhD’s, and IQ of 187, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid was hand picked by BAU founder Jason Gideon…

After a high speed chase in Mexico the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit are on the scene. It’s thought that a member of the team is involved…

BAU Member SSA Doctor Spencer Reid acquitted of charges against him…

Hostage situation involving two members of the BAU…no further information is known at this time…

Your head swam. Your stomach lurched. This couldn’t be true, yet it was here in black and white. 

You were sleeping with the enemy. The sweet, kind cowboy you’d rescued from the desert was a former FBI Agent. 

Three PhD’s? An IQ of 187? Doctor? 

What the fuck was going on? You knew there were things he hadn’t told you but did you know him at all? And what led to an FBI agent going to prison? And what happened to him in prison that Luke had ascertained from his medical records?

You felt dizzy. You pushed yourself back up against the wall so you wouldn’t collapse. Luke’s raised voice brought you back around.

“You could have told me! I would have understood, I could have helped!” 

“No one can help me! Why don’t you understand that?” Spencer yelled back. 

“She seemed to be doing a fine job.” Luke scoffed, nodding his head towards the door.

“Goddamnit, would you let that go?” 

“Let it go? How the hell can I let that go? Every time I close my eyes I will see her on top of you!” Luke threw his arms up into the air. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger, okay? I’m sorry I pushed you away. But I am finally starting to move past what happened to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you but Y/N is…she makes me feel like I can heal. And I need that Luke, I need to heal.” Spencer sniffed again, feeling his tears dangerously close to falling.

Luke didn’t appear to be listening though, his brows pinched together as he rolled something over in his mind.

“Did you say Y/N?” He rubbed the side of his neck. 

Your back went rigid. Hearing him say your name dislodged something distant in the back of your mind.

“Have you seen this woman? Her name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N and we have reason to believe she’s been seen in this area.”

“Yeah, why?” Spencer’s voice broke through your memory. 

“I…I’m not sure.” Luke looked deep in thought. “Can I…? One sec.” 

Spencer watched in confusion as Luke turned and headed down the stairs towards his SUV. He wrapped his good arm around himself in protection and to stave off the cold night. 

“Have you seen this woman? Her name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N and we have reason to believe she’s been seen in this area.”

“I don’t know nothing, ‘bout nothing.” 

“Can you take a closer look at her photo ma’am? Your neighbour seems to think she’s been staying here.”

“Again, I don’t know nothing, ‘bout nothing.” 

“Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“You got a warrant?” 

“No…”

“Then get the hell off of my property.”

Magnolia Springs, Alabama. Mrs Royce, the kindly old woman for whom your mother had been best friends with all throughout childhood. She’d offered you a place to stay after you escaped custody. That was until her nosy neighbour recognised you from the wanted posters. 

You’d buried your mom’s money under a tree in the wooded area behind her house and watched from a distance as two FBI Agents had come to her home to question her. Even though she hadn’t seen your mother in more years than she could count, Mrs Royce was fiercely loyal, and hadn't said a word. 

You hadn’t had a great vantage point for which to see the agents, only caught small glimpses of them from where you hid in the back of the house. But they’d introduced themselves as -

- Agents Phil Brooks and Luke Alvez. 

Luke was hurrying back from his car with a manilla folder and Spencer stayed stock still while he awaited him. Luke opened the folder and pulled out a sheet of paper which he proffered to Spencer as soon as he was close enough. 

“What is this?” Spencer frowned at the paper.

“Is this the woman? I only saw her from the back. She coulda changed her hair? Is this her?” Luke jabbed a finger at the photograph in the corner of the page. “She escaped from a max security facility a few weeks ago. Phil called me.” 

To Spencer’s credit, no matter how many years it had been since he’d needed to to use his poker face, he was still an expert at it. His expression didn’t even so much as flinch as he looked at the photograph of you on Luke’s printout. 

He was right, you had changed your hair. But it was without a doubt you looking back at him from that mugshot. He glanced away, back at Luke and shook his head.

“No.” He lied. “I’ve never seen this woman before.” 

Luke’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny, watching for any little twitch, any tiny hint that Spencer was keeping something from him. But the truth was, even though they had dated and Luke thought he knew Spencer better than anyone, he never could read Spencer. 

“You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Spencer? Because this woman is dangerous, and if you’re lying to me, that’s harbouring a fugitive. I don’t need to tell you that comes with a prison sentence.” Luke observed again. 

Even at the mention of prison, Spencer’s features didn’t change. 

“I’m telling you Luke, I don’t know this woman.” He waved the paper in front of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

Your own brows pinched together. You peered out the window to see the paper in Spencer’s hand but it was too dark to see exactly what was on it. But you were certain he would know it was you in the photograph. So why was he lying? 

“Right, I’m just being paranoid I guess.” Luke huffed, snatching the paper back from Spencer.

“I think you should go Luke, it's late and you shouldn’t have come here.” Spencer returned his arm to its position wrapped around him. 

“I’m staying down the road for the night. Maybe we can meet tomorrow for coffee or something?” Luke tucked the file under his arm.

“No,” Spencer shook his head. “I don’t want this Luke. I moved out here for a reason, to get away from my life in DC. To get away from…from…”

“From me?” Luke croaked. 

“From everyone.” Spencer corrected him. “You will always have a place in my heart, Luke. I did love you but I’m not the same man I was when we started dating and I’m never going to be him again. You have to let me go, Luke, please? Please just let me go.” 

Luke wanted to argue, he wanted to argue with every fibre of his being. He didn’t drive all the way out here to have it end like this. 

But Spencer’s sad eyes and downturned lips forced him to bite his tongue. Spencer had been through an immeasurable amount of trauma and he was just trying to make it through to the otherside. Luke couldn't help him, he tried, but he’d failed. Perhaps the best thing for Spencer’s wellbeing was for Luke to walk away, to let him go once for and for all. 

Luke huffed a breath out through his nose and took a few steps backwards. He navigated the steps whilst never taking his eyes off of Spencer. 

“I wish it could have been different.” Luke’s first tear fell and he didn’t try to hide it. “You were the love of my life.” 

“I know.” Spencer scrunched his face up as he felt his own tears ready to escape. 

“But I wasn’t yours.” Luke spoke for him with a weak shrug of his shoulders. “I want you to be happy, Spencer, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just promise me you’ll check in? I’m not asking for daily phone calls or anything like that but please stop ignoring me when I reach out. I’d really like to still be a part of your life even if only in a small capacity.” 

“That, uh, sounds reasonable.” Spencer nodded. 

“And call Penelope more. She worries about you more than anyone.” Luke shrugged, still walking backwards toward the SUV. 

“I will.” He nodded, swallowed thickly. But he was sure if you were who he now knew you to be, he’d never be able to talk to any of his old team ever again.

He felt overcome with discomfort. The goodbye he’d avoided two years ago now here at his feet. Spencer didn’t like goodbyes, it was why he’d left without them the first time. 

Goodbyes were endings. Full stops. The closing of a book. Spencer had wanted to keep the story open, unfinished, just in case he ever had the impetus to write that final chapter. But it had been penned for him. Luke had snatched the metaphorical pen from his hand by coming here and effectively completed their story. 

“Uh, goodbye then I guess.” Luke shrugged as he reached the car. 

“G-goodbye, Luke.” Spencer whispered. 

The book slammed shut. Or perhaps it was the car door. Either way, Spencer Reid and Luke Alvez’s story had come to its bitter end. 

He stood on the porch and watched as Luke started the engine before putting the vehicle in reverse. He continued to observe as the headlights cast an eerie glow on his land as the SUV turned around. He still just stood there as Luke’s car took to the dirt track back to the main road and soon vanished from sight. 

He huffed out a breath, rubbed his eyes to disperse the tears before turning to the door and practically throwing it open. He marched inside and found you in the corner of the kitchen, back pressed up against the wall. You’d been listening, of course you had. 

Spencer stayed on his side of the kitchen counter, worried what he might do if he came too close to you. He needed the barrier between you. He slammed his good hand on the counter top but you didn’t even flinch. His eyes were manic as they looked at you, large and wild. His chest was heaving erratically.

He opened his mouth several times to speak but the words kept getting stuck in his dry throat. Minutes of painful silence stretched between you while you kept your eyes on each other. 

Eventually Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, his jaw set in a tight line when he finally spoke. 

“Who the fuck are you?” He spat the words like venom on his tongue. 

You straightened yourself, squared your shoulders as if it might somehow intimidate him. When you spoke it was with equal malevolence. 

“I was going to ask you the same thing, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid.”  

More silence followed, reaching out into the sparse caverns that gorged their way between you. The wicked talons of the unspoken words weaved around you, wrapping you both in their icy clutches. 

You were both acutely aware that whatever conversation was about to transpire between you would inevitably make or break this fledgling relationship. You were no longer who you had been just hours before. A lonely cowboy and a weary traveller no more. All that remained was an FBI Agent and a Fugitive. 

It seemed inescapable that this could only end in one of two ways -

Either he called the cops on you and you were thrown back in prison, having the key thrown away and left to rot for the rest of your life behind bars. Or one of you would wind up dead. 

And you were not going back to prison. 

@kalulakunundrum @small-and-violent @voledart @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @mavellover1819 @babyspiderling

[pollenallergie]

cassie my love, i need more of this in my life. getting high post-sex w older!tom just seems soooooo <3

So…. it took me an embarrassing amount of months to get back to you on this but um…. here you go… this took a turn??? and then a swift turn back in the other direction???? so um…. horny whiplash warning??? ig????

Tagging @ali-r3n bc she asked me to and also @ghosttownwherenoonegoes because Eri helped me out with a lot of the british specifics (the britifics??) so thank youuuu

Okay, okay, without further ado:

Your First Introduction to Older!Tom’s Post-Sex Ritual

(except I can’t stick to a prompt)

Word Count: 2.1 k

Warnings: Nudity, allusions to sex and also some *ehm* inappropriate touching, reader has boobies and a bajina.

18+ only!! MDNI!! Minors do not read this!!! This is not for you!!!! This is for adults only!!!

“Fuuuuuck,” Tom exhales as he lays on his back, staring up at your bedroom ceiling.

“Fuck,” you agree weakly, still slowly drifting down from cloud nine. Tom chuckles at your response as he sits up and eases out of bed. You smile at the sweet sound of his laughter, though you don’t immediately register the movement; still just a bit too far gone.

When Tom struts past your line of sight, still naked as the day he was born, on his way out of the room, that movement manages to catch your attention finally. You frown, at first, because you were already missing him, and then because you were disappointed in yourself for already missing him. Casual, this is just casual, keep it casual, you remind yourself. Tom doesn’t do the whole dating thing, you know that, so keep things platonic and casual. Don’t scare him off.

Suddenly, you’re pulled out of your internal self-lecture by the sound of a distant, but not distant enough, crash and Tom exclaiming, “shit!”

You sit up as quickly as you’re able to, your whole body still feeling pretty limp and boneless after Tom spent the better half of the evening pulling as many orgasms from you as he could. Once you’re upright, you call out, “Tom? Are you alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Shit! Er, yeah, just, erm- hang on,” Tom calls back. You hear more shuffling and clattering from the other room, and then you hear the undeniable creak in the floorboards from Tom’s heavy-footed steps as he approaches the bedroom. Soon enough, he appears in the doorway, still shamelessly nude but now with a joint in hand and a sheepish expression on his face.

“Have you got a lighter or, er, matches or anything like that? I tried looking ‘round for either of ‘em, but erm… Yeah, I couldn’t find anything,” he asks, his cheeks blushing as he carries on.

“Is that what all that crashing was?” You ask amusedly, failing to stifle the grin that curls on your lips.

“Yeah… I erm, I might’ve knocked some of yer shit over,” Tom admits sheepishly.

“Tommy,” you say, your tone a perfect mix of amused, exasperated, disappointed, and scolding.

“But, but!! But I put it all back, and none of it’s broken. Swear on me granda’s grave,” he promises.

You can’t help but roll your eyes fondly at that before chastising him a bit, good-naturedly, of course, “Don’t swear on that poor man’s grave. Knowing you, you probably already put him through enough when he was alive.”

Tom chuckles, “Fair enough,” he concedes before raising up the joint to draw your attention back to it, and then simply asking, “Lighters? Matches?”

“Er, right. Lighters. Kitchen, the counter to the left of the fridge, top drawer, it’s my catch-all drawer, there should be a few lighters in there, take your pick,” you inform him.

Tom grins at your response as he makes his way over to the bed. His grin widens tenfold and becomes much more smug when he notices your gaze flit down toward his cock, which gracelessly flops around with his strides, still limp and spent from your previous activities. When he reaches your side of the bed, he places his hand down on the mattress near your thigh, using it to support his weight as he leans over and plants a kiss on the crown of your head. He holds his lips there for a few moments, softly inhaling the residual scent of your shampoo as he does so, deciding to allow you both to enjoy this moment of peace without even being truly aware that that’s what he’s doing.

When Tom finally breaks away, he leans down to whisper into your ear, “Don’t get any ideas, love,” he warns cheekily, “You and that heavenly little place between your thighs milked my cock dry; don’t think I’ll be able to get it up again anytime soon,” he finishes teasingly before kissing you again, this time pressing his lips against your cheek to punctuate his teasing.

You scoff and stifle a smile as you push him away. Cocky little bastard, you think.

Tom holds his hands up in surrender as he backs away from the bed, joint still clutched between his index and middle finger and a smug grin still on his face.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, baby. It’s yer fault for bein’ greedy,” he teases as he walks off into the other room, still refusing to put on clothes.

God, how are you supposed to keep your feelings in check when he treats you like that? He’s just one of your mates, and yet he treats you better than many of the dickheads you’ve dated in the past ever had, better than some of your mates’ current partners treat them, even.

As if he can sense that you’ve begun to spiral from the other room, Tom calls out to you, effectively pulling you out of your fretting, “Ay, me lover, think I’m gonna light up and make meesen a bacon butty. You want anything while I’m out ‘ere? Water? Bacon butty? Some wine? This Crunchie you’ve got hidden in your cupboard? Actually, wait, nevermind, I call dibs on the Crunchie.”

“Maybe some wa- Hey, wait, Tom, no! Leave that Crunchie alone! I’ve been saving that!”

Of course, you frantically try to get up to rescue your precious candy bar from Tom’s thieving grasp. However, your legs are still a little unsteady, which forces you to walk to the kitchen looking like a newborn giraffe, all while Tom’s grating (read: annoyingly sexy) chuckle fills the space of your flat.

You find him cock out, lit joint pursed between his lips, standing in front of your stove, hands on his hips, heating up a frying pan for his bacon, and, annoyingly, nowhere near your candy stash.

“I haven’t got any bacon, so, it’ll just be a butty, I’m afraid. No use heating up a pan for that,” you grumble as you walk over to the cupboard where you stash your candy. Might as well snag that Crunchie before he can.

At the sound of your voice, Tom turns around and looks at you, bemused, albeit amused as well, and says, “the fuck are you doing out ‘ere on those wobbly li’l legs, Bambi?”

His words come out a bit muffled, thanks to the joint perched between his lips.

“Thought you were gonna steal my Crunchie,” you shrug and admit sheepishly through a mouthful of chocolate and honeycomb. At that, Tom barks out a laugh, which quickly morphs into a cough from accidentally inhaling during said laugh. He promptly removes the joint from between his lips, ashes it in the makeshift ashtray he’s made out of foil, clears his throat, and goes back to smoking.

“Jesus, you’re a strange one, aren’t you,” he remarks fondly, his voice slightly hoarse from coughing, as he begins to gather the ingredients for his sandwich.

“I’m very serious about my Crunchies,” you reply, half-jokingly.

Tom chuckles as he rifles through your fridge.

“Yeah, I’m well aware of that now,” he replies, pausing to inhale before continuing to speak on his exhale, “Sit down at the table then, yeah? I’ll get you some water and make us some toasties if that sounds alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, okay,” you agree awkwardly as you sit down nearby at your kitchen table, watching him as he works on preparing the food.

Soon enough, he comes over to you with a glass of water and that same cheeky smile.

God, that smile will get you in so much trouble someday, won’t it?

“What’s that grin for?” You ask as he sets down the water, though you can’t help but reciprocate it with a smile of your own.

He shrugs before leaning over to press his lips against yours, moaning into the kiss when you needily take the initiative to deepen it, parting your lips eagerly for him. Far too soon for your liking, though, he’s breaking the kiss, pulling away just slightly to look into your eyes with his lovely brown ones.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have really, really great tits?” Tom asks, his voice low, sultry, and serious, but you can see the mischief swimming in his gaze.

You roll your eyes and scoff at his question, leaning back in your seat, though anyone could see the amused smile you fail to keep from tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah, you have like a million times since we started hooking up,” you reply with a chuckle.

“What can I say? I’m a man of honesty,” Tom teases, making you huff out a laugh; he smiles at the sound of it before holding up the joint in your line of sight and asking, “Do you want to take a few tokes ‘a this while I finish up our sandwiches?”

You nod and purse your lips, and, as if it were already second nature to him, Tom slots the joint between your lips.

Instead of immediately going off to work on the food, he sticks around to watch you take your first few puffs, still leaning down so he’s just about at eye level with you, his hands boxing you in on either side, one palm pressed onto the tabletop and the other holding onto the back of your chair. Meanwhile, you sit diagonally in your seat, facing him and maintaining eye contact as you smoke. The haze of your high slowly but surely begins to set in, lowering your eyelids to a relaxed level and easing your posture. Between your new relaxed state, the sex hair you’re sporting, the fact that you smell like you’ve just got done having sex, the fact that you’re completely naked right now, and the fact that you’re, well, you, Tom thinks you might be one of the prettiest things he’s ever fucking seen in his whole life.

But he mustn’t forget about the toasties!

So, he plants one last kiss on your cheek because, hey, he fucking feels like it. Then, he surprises you by kneeling in front of you to say goodbye to ‘his girls’ (your tits).

“I’ll see you ladies in a minute, yeah? Be good while I’m gone, try not to miss me too much,” he whispers to them, making you giggle.

“Tom, you’re so fucking wei-” That (affectionate) jab immediately dies on your tongue the moment he leans forward and wraps his lips around one of your nipples, engulfing it in the warm, wet heat of his mouth and applying just enough pressure to make a heated, buzzing sensation spread beneath your skin as he sucks on it. Then, just as you feel that pleasant sensation spread down through your core, Tom’s pulling away, but only so he can give your other, neglected nipple the same attention.

Small mewls and moans spill out from between your parted lips as the long forgotten joint, still clutched between your fingers, hovers over your table, where the ashes fall from it carelessly, sure to leave a mark. Once Tom’s had his fill, he places a final kiss to the center of your chest before pulling away completely and leaving to go finish preparing your sandwiches, waltzing back over to the stove as if he hadn’t just done, well, that.

“Tom… what the fuck was that?” You ask breathlessly. Still too bewildered to notice the damage the neglected joint is doing to the surface of your table.

Tom has to stifle a cheeky, mischievous grin as he feigns nonchalance, shrugs, and simply replies, “Just giving the ladies a proper goodbye, love. They get nervy when I leave ‘em just out of the blue. You know, separation anxiety, and all that?” Tom tuts, “Poor girls. Think maybe you should start keeping a couple pictures of me in your bra, one in each cup, so they can still see me when I’m not around.”

“Tommy, you’re ridiculous,” you laugh as he dishes up the toasties onto plates and turns off the stovetop.

“Ridiculous…ly fit? I know, baby, but why don’t you finish that glass of water and eat some of that sandwich before you go jumpin’ me bones again, yeah? Gotta stay fed and hydrated,” He teases you as he brings the plates over to the table.

“Oh, and, you’re ashing on yer table, love,” Tom informs you with a kiss on the head as he sets the plates down and goes to grab a wet rag to wipe the table off with, along with the makeshift ashtray.

“Shit!” you exclaim as you lift the joint away from the table. You hand it to him when he gets back, trading it off for the rag so you can wipe up the mess you’ve made whilst he gets everything else sorted.

Tom tuts and shakes his head, feigning disapproval, “that’s the devil’s lettuce, it’ll do that to you.”

“Shut up, Tommifer,” you reply, feigning annoyance all while sporting an amused smile. He chuckles at that, though he also appreciates the fact that you neglected to call him ‘Thomas,’ his full first name, when you very easily could’ve.

“Eat yer toastie, me birdie,” He says as he nudges you teasingly, “sooner you finish it, sooner I can get back between those thighs, yeah?”

[noturlondonboy]

No More Excuses//Katelena

Chapter 1: Intruder- But Wait, She’s Hot!

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Story Summary: Kate Bishop enjoys a relaxed and well deserved Christmas with the Barton family and stays with them into the new year. But once she returns home to New York, she finds that someone had been waiting for her to get back from her holiday vacation.

A certain Black Widow assassin.

——

Yelena Belova spends Christmas Day cold, miserable, and alone. The loss of Natasha sits heavy on her chest, and now that she has nowhere to elsewhere channel her anger and grief, Yelena has no choice but to rot in it.

Or perhaps she can make an effort to befriend the newest Hawkeye.

Content Warnings: mental illness, medication, depression, anxiety, talk of character death, fight scenes, blood, gore, weapons, injuries, the Red Room, nightmares, angst, alcohol, harassment, intoxication, drugs, talk about/implied adult content, death, PTSD, trauma, assault, talk of overdose, talk of suicide, talk of self harm, talk of sexual assault, men being horrible, stupid lesbian pinning. Warnings will also be at the head of every chapter.

A/N: I absolutely adore this little story of mine. I’ve been posting it on Wattpad for several months, but recently got my tumblr up and running, and wanted to share it here! Here’s chapter one of many.

Chapter warnings: depression, ‘home invasion’

“And you’re sure you have enough food and cash to keep you going?”

Kate Bishop felt herself getting slightly exasperated as she laughed, throwing her arms around Clint in a hug. “Clint, for the last time, I’ll be fine!” The man huffed a sigh and held her tightly, patting her back before letting go.

“Okay kiddo, if you’re sure. I just know that it gets cold and if you’re ever lonely you can-”

“Come visit your family any time I want, I know,” Kate finished for him, grinning softly.

He pursed his lips and nodded, looking down at his feet and around Kate’s rather interesting apartment. Clint shook his head and coughed slightly, sucking in a breath before looking back up to her. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Aw, are you gonna miss me?”

“Nah, kid, just the dust and dog fur.”

“You’re crying, Clint!”

The Avenger let a short laugh out, clearing his throat as the sound turned tearful. “Men can cry,” he muttered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Kate pouted and opened her arms again, and Clint took only a moment before shuffling into them and giving her another tight hug. They stayed like that for a moment, hesitant father and ecstatic daughter.

Kate squeezed him one more time, willing the tears to stay back. “Thanks for giving me a good Christmas, Clint. The best, really,” she choked out.

The past couple of weeks had completely turned Kate’s life upside down. Understandably so, of course, seeing as she met her idol, almost died several times, and turned her mother in to the police. (That’s the short version, anyway.) Now, after finally returning home from spending Christmas and New Year’s with the wonderful Barton family, Kate wasn’t sure she could go back to any semblance of normal.

“You deserve the best of anything, Katie,” Clint said softly, patting her cheek. “I’ll miss you kiddo.”

The two eventually parted ways after several more similar exchanges, and once Clint was safely back on his way to the airport, Kate sighed heavily through her nose. Lucky perked up from where he lay sprawled out on the kitchen floor, likely waiting to be fed, and gave a little whine.

“Awwww- poor puppy needs to eat, huh?” Kate muttered softly, turning to look at her canine friend and doing her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. Lucky’s eye brightened as he sat and up thumped his tail eagerly, licking his chops as if to say, ‘yes absolutely he does need to eat, thank you for noticing.’

The archer dug out the last of the leftover airport pizza from the fridge and tossed it up in the air for Lucky to catch, giggling and crumpling up the old box as he barked excitedly for the treat. Not a drop even touched the floor.

Kate whistled and sat against a cabinet, arms open for Lucky to snuggle into. “You’re getting good there, Pizza Dog,” she whispered, burying her face into his ridiculously soft golden fur. He huffed a breath and wiggled around until he could lick her face.

“I love you too, silly puppy.”

They stayed on the kitchen floor longer than Kate cared to remember, but eventually the cold of the tiles bit through her pants and into her butt and she forced herself to her feet. After the chaos and perpetually constant noise she had grown accustomed to recently, her apartment was almost alien in its strange quietness.

She looked down to Lucky, who stared up at her adoringly with a little doggy grin. “What now, huh?”

He just continued to look at her. Kate nodded in agreement. “Shower. Cleaning. Probably sorting groceries and getting more, seeing as Clint’s idea of groceries is extremely limited. Good idea.”

They took a nap instead, both passing out on the couch as soon as they sat down. A jet lagged dog is no joke.

——

Kate jolted awake to a sharp sound from outside, her head spinning and body uncomfortably warm. Lucky’s weight stayed heavy on her stomach, his tongue lolling as he snored softly and kicked at the armrest. Whatever had woken Kate clearly did not bother him.

Another thump, and Kate groggily pushed herself up onto her elbows, eyes squinting against the dark. Her chest squeezed tightly. “Hello?” she called out, speech thick with sleep. Lucky did not wake up.

There was a slow creak, and Kate could vaguely make out the shine of moonlight on a moving windowpane as a dark figure pushed its way into her apartment.

Ah hell no. Kate jolted up, suddenly wide awake as adrenaline shot down her spine. Lucky tumbled from her lap and flopped around on the couch for a confused moment, still not even bothered to be alarmed that his home was quite literally being broken into. Kate ignored the part of her mind that whispered about the familiarity of that window being opened and instead opted to hop over the couch and rush for her bow and the light switch on the far wall.

The lightbulbs had barely warmed enough to brighten the space by the time Kate had a net trick arrow strained in the direction of the intruder, and to her shock and horror, the figure was already so close that she could make out the details of her chunky silver rings.

Wait…

Kate’s mind finally caught up to her racing heartbeat, and her dinky kitchen lights flickered fully to life to reveal none other than Yelena Belova, the assassin who had tried to kill Clint just a few short weeks ago. The woman was so much closer than Kate expected to be humanly possible with the distance she had to travel from the window to here, but she showed no signs of exertion and almost had a rather pleasant look on her face.

Kate, in turn, could only stare with wide eyes as she kept her arrow notched and pointed directly between Yelena’s hazel eyes, chest heaving.

The blonde tilted her head softly, shifting into a more relaxed position as she looked Kate up and down. Stands of golden hair fell over one shoulder. She even had the gall to pop a hip and almost smile at the woman in front of her as if she hadn’t just invaded the archer’s home.

“Kate Bishop,” Yelena said, her lips twitching. “You’re back.”

“...What the hell!?”

Translations: none

Kate Bishop counter: 1

This chapter's meme:

Comments/reblogs/notes make my day :)

[dbnightingale24]

Getting Lost In The Silence With You

An Emmett Lovestory

~~

~~

Surprise, and Happy Halloween!!

I just wanted to make something fluffy and loving, since I'm always giving you guys angst and despair 🙃 anywho, I hope you all enjoy this little story, I hope you're enjoying one of the best days ever, and please be safe! As always, thank you to @fuckingbyefor the amazing moldboard, and for just existing. Alright, enough of my rambling, enjoy!

Like always, Tumblr is on it's bullshit, so I'm only gonna post part of it here, and leave the link to my AO3 if you wanna read all of it.

Word Count: 15,618

Warnings: SMUT (18+ Minors DNI), Swearing, Drinking, Heartbreak, Dealing with Loss, FLUFF, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Self Doubt, A Bit of Self Loathing, uhh...I think that's it?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You Are The One I Waited For, I Knew It All Along

~~

I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere.

~~

You keep your giggles quiet as you feel something tickling your toes.

Emmett.

‘Happy birthday,’ he smiles down at you after your eyes finally open.

This has been routine for the past three years now, and you can’t help but smile at the fact that you and Emmett have had each other to lean on. You wonder how something so beautiful came from such an ugly turn of events.

When Emmett found you, you were both wary of one another. He hadn’t meant to find you, and you hadn’t meant to find him. He stumbled across where you’d been hiding, searching for materials to stock up on. The second he found you hiding, you both pulled your guns on one another. While you were more than sure that he could see the fear in your eyes, you saw the emptiness and despair in his. Yet the longer he looked at you and the more you shook, the softer his features became.

He held a finger against his lips, a sign for you to be quiet, and slowly led you out of the closet. You warily grabbed the few of the things you had and followed him. You’re not sure why you followed him to this day.

“What were you doing there?” he asked softly, once you two had reached where he was hiding out, putting away the few supplies he was able to scrounge up on his trip.

“The same thing everyone else who’s alive is trying to do. Hiding.”

“That’s a terrible hiding spot.”

“It worked out just fine for me for the last two months.”

“Are you alone?”

Silence.

He turned around to see you standing there, eyes watering as you tried to look anywhere but at him.

You’d been alone for a year at the time. There hadn’t been anyone you’d confided in, and you didn’t find yourself wanting to know anyone. The last person in life died in your arms and you’d decided to keep to yourself from then on out. It just felt like the best idea; the safest in this world surrounded by danger.

“I don’t mean to be harsh, you just...that spot was dangerous. Even more so if you’re alone. Have a seat. Have you eaten today?”

“Don’t eat much,” you mumbled, taking a seat at his table, looking around the empty space. “I don’t hunt unless I have to.”

“I’ll get you something, just sit tight,” he told you softly. 

You looked around and saw the different drawings, a few pictures, and wondered how long it’d been since he lost everyone.

“Th-thank you,” you told him softly, pulling out a bottle of wine and setting it on the table.

Seemed like a pretty decent peace offering. 

“Where the hell did you get that?” he half smiled, coming over and picking up the bottle in admiration. 

“Some of it’s self made, others are from...before.”

“How old are you?”

“What’s the date?”

“October 31st.”

You smiled and shook your head, wiping away a few tears, “I’m 27 today.”

He offered a sympathetic smile, “happy birthday.”

And that’s how it started. You never intended on staying with him, and you’re more than sure he never meant to let you stay, but you both soon found that you enjoyed the company of each another. It’d been a long time since either of you had people in your lives, and it just felt nice to have someone around.

Even if you two didn’t say much to each other for the first few months.

Every once in a while, he’d hear you crying and sit by you, softly placing his hand over yours and you’d squeeze it softly. Other times, he’d have restless nights, tossing and turning for hours, and you’d just sit by him and take his hand until he felt at ease. In exchange of him getting food, you taught him how to make his own wine and vodka. You would share books, and every now and again you’d both go to the nearby falls together just to hear something.

This stayed a constant for months until he found you listening to your iPhone one day.

“How do you still have one of those?” he marveled, putting a plate of venison in front of you.

Deer was his specialty.

“My best friend figured out to make a battery one night,” you laughed softly. “She was drunk as shit, but real determined to make it work. She refused to lose all of the comforts from the way things used to be. It was the last gift she ever gave me. I’m not the best when it comes to things like that, so I try not to use it often. I don’t wanna end up breaking it and being fucked,” you finished with a scoff as you pressed ‘pause’ and set it aside.

“What’s special about today?”

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Explains why it’s so damn cold,” he muttered, and you laughed softly. “Anything good on there?”

“Depends on what your definition of good is,” you smirked, pouring the both of you a cup of wine. “Being a Jersey girl, there’s a lot of Springsteen on there-”

“You’re from Jersey?” he questioned before he realized he cut you off, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“No, it’s okay. We’ve never talked about it. Um yeah, I was born and raised in New Jersey. My parents moved to Millbrook after I went off to college. I was here visiting when...when everything happened. Got stuck,” you chuckled humorlessly. “At least I don’t have to worry about paying off my college loans,” you muttered as you cut up your deer and Emmett laughed.

It was the first time you’d actually heard him laugh.

~~

You can read the rest here.

taglist: @autumnrose40

[itslulabee]

Participation (Ch.1)

~

Be My Lover

Kili x OC (smut!! some plot too)

(part two, part three, part four, part five, part six)

Description; This fanfic is posted to my AO3 as well, it's basically just pure filth with my OC Kaia and five members of Thorin's Company, starting with the beloved Kili <3

MINORS DNI !!! sexy times ensuing...

AN; I was listening to Freaky Deaky by Tyga and Doja Cat whilst reading this, just letting you know the vibes.

Translations for any Khuzdul will be at the end! <3

~ <3 ~

Joining a company of thirteen dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard was never on Kaia’s to-do list.

She enjoyed the sanctity of her little cottage in the middle of nowhere, keeping to herself and minding her business. After all, she was a human woman with no family, and no ties to the rest of Middle Earth. No-one should bother her… right?

Wrong. One night, a few weeks ago, a storm broke out. Ignoring it to the best of her ability, Kaia curled up in her armchair with a book, almost missing the knock at her door.

Curious and slightly annoyed, Kaia looked out through the small window built into the wooden door, and was surprised to see a rather tall man standing on her doorstep. He wore a grey cloak and a pointy hat, both of which were completely soaked from the tumultuous rain. As was his long grey hair and his long grey beard.

Nevertheless, when he caught her eye, he gave her a warm smile.

“Good evening, my lady!” He bellowed, trying to sound louder than the thunder which echoed around the valley. “I wondered if my travelling companions and I could seek refuge in your barn?”

And that was how it started. Kaia begrudgingly agreed, hardly willing to let some travellers freeze to death when she had the means to help. He thanked her profusely, and went on his way, closely followed by fourteen smaller, but equally soaked, individuals.

The next morning, she went to the barn to check on her unexpected guests.

The man introduced himself as Gandalf the Grey, a wizard. She had heard of him, and he her. Her father was a traveller in his day, and he seemed to have crossed paths with the wizard on a few occasions.

Gandalf was glad to have found her, as the leader of their company had led them astray during the storm, and they were now completely lost.

With a sigh, Kaia agreed to show them the way back to the main road, hoping that once she saw them off, she could go back to her life and forget about this whole affair.

She was wrong.

The journey to the main road was a quick one, but felt longer as Kaia spent more time talking with Gandalf, his hobbit friend Bilbo, and the variety of dwarves which comprised the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.

And just like that, she found herself travelling with them far past the main road.

-

It surprised her how much she enjoyed being around the odd bunch. They made her laugh with their jokes and gripped her attention with many stories of their homeland, and their mission to reclaim it.

What surprised her most, however, was how attractive some of these dwarves were...

The renowned and uncrowned King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield, was certainly easy on the eyes. Tall for a dwarf, coming up to her shoulders, he was built well and walked with a commanding aura fit for a king. He had a handsome face, a deep rumbling voice and a self-assured glint in her eye which made her swoon.

But it was not just him who caught Kaia’s eye. His two nephews shared their uncles rugged good looks, but had their own styles and mannerisms that made them completely different. They were cheeky and energetic, and did not waste a single opportunity to flirt with her, causing her to almost be in a constant state of blushing.

Thinking about the line of Durin was enough to make her get hot and bothered, shifting slightly on her saddle as she felt a familiar ache she had grown used to ignoring. However now, in the presence of all of these dwarves, she found herself getting more and more restless, yearning for five minutes alone with one of them, or a few of the other handsome dwarves besides the royal three…

“Are you alright, Miss Kaia?” A small voice breaks her from her thought. She turns her head to see Bilbo Baggins looking up at her from his own pony, giving her a small smile.

“Oh. Yes, I’m fine, Bilbo, Thank you.” Kaia nods, offering him what she hopes was a convincing smile. In truth, she was letting her mind run wild with fantasies of at least five of their dwarvish companions, her whole body flushing at the impure thoughts floating around her head.

“Your face looks a little red, and you keep twitching. Do you feel under the weather?” Bilbo asks, growing concerned.

“I believe I am just tired from all of this riding, dear hobbit…” Kaia chuckles.

“Aye, lass, we’ve been going at it all day.” Bofur's voice pipes up, sidling up to Kaia’s other side, “No wonder you’re sore.”

Bofur gives her a lopsided smile, but his seemingly innocent words struck another cord in Kaia. Looking at Bofur and his goofy, handsome face, she started thinking about going at it with him all day… she cleared her throat, looking away from Bofur to focus on the horizon.

“No, you definitely don’t look alright, I’ll go speak to Oin!” Bilbo says, awkwardly manoeuvring his pony away from her before she could protest. Sighing, she gripped the reins of her horse once again, avoiding Bofur's concerned gaze.

“We will stop for camp in the oncoming clearing!” Thorin’s voice booms from the front of the troupe. Kaia sighs gratefully at this, excited to be able to rest.

-

Camp was set up very quickly, the proficiency of these dwarves was really spectacular. Especially when they were hungry. In record breaking time, the princes caught rabbits for Bombur to cook. The group milled about in their small, camp-fire lit area, engaging in pleasant conversations amongst themselves.

“When do you think Gandalf with be back?” Bilbo asked Kaia. He was sat next to her, as he often did, smoking his pipe. They had become fast friends, often finding common ground as the minority of non-dwarvish members of the company

“I don’t know. He said a few days, how long has it been?”

“A few days.”

“Ah.” Kaia clicks her tongue, “Then I suppose he should be back soon!”

Bilbo chuckles at this, and Kaia smiles over at him, glad she can make him laugh in moments when he is uneasy. Their friendship was important to both of them, grounding them when they were both caught up in their thoughts. Bilbo worrying about his position in the group, fighting a dragon and perhaps never returning home. And Kaia, thinking lewd thoughts about half of their travelling party. She definitely had it worse.

Kaia reclined against a boulder, fiddling with her mothers necklace as she closed her eyes for a moment. She heard a pair of footsteps approaching the campfire, sitting across from her.

“So, Kaia.” Came Kili’s voice, “You’ve been travelling with us for a while now. Not in a rush to go home?”

Kaia opens her eyes to look at him. He and his brother are sat on a log across from her, Kili smoking his pipe and smiling at her, with Fili busying himself with cleaning his daggers.

“It seems like it.” Kaia says, shrugging.

“We never asked, who’s waiting for you back in that cottage of yours?” Fili asks, his tone nonchalant as he sharpened one of his many knives.

Kaia squinted at the pair, curious about whether or not they were starting up another one of their strange pranks. She had been brought into too many of them before by being naive.

“Why?” She asks.

Fili and Kili shrug, in unison. More members of the group have sat around the fire now, waiting for dinner to be served.

“Why, what?” Nori asks, stretching his arms in front of him.

“We were asking her if she’s got anyone waiting for her at home.” Kili says, shrugging once again.

“Oh, dear, I hope you haven’t left your parents behind to worry about you!” Dori chirps, looking her over in concern. She gave him a warm smile, opening her mouth to speak when she’s interrupted by the blonde haired prince.

“We weren’t asking about her parents…” Fili says. Kaia looks at him, and he winks at her.

“You’re asking me if I left a husband to wait for me?” Kaia asks, a small smirk gracing her lips. Fili’s eyes drop to her mouth, and his tongue pops out to dampen his own. It makes Kaia’s thighs clench slightly at the image of him using his mouth for other means crosses her mind…

“No. I have no husband waiting for me.” Kaia says, trying to play coy as she looks off into the campfire.

“No suitors, either?” Kili asks, resting his head in his palm.

“No suitors, either.”

“How come?” Bofur asks, sitting down next to her. He chews on his pipe as he looks at her intensely, and she shrugs at him.

“I don’t know. No men have come knocking. I don’t think I’m really “courtship material.” Kaia chuckles, playing with the hem of her shirt.

“What do you mean by that, Kaia?” Gloin asks, warming his hands on the fire.

Kaia thinks for a second, looking around at the intrigued faces of her friends.

“I think I intimidate them. I’m not one for being wooed, any men who come close to me I pay no mind to.” Kaia then stops as a sad thought enters her mind. “And perhaps, I’m not attractive enough.”

Though she expected the dwarves to pay no mind to this self-degrading sentiment, the group was in uproar.

“Not attractive enough?!” Kili guffaws, looking at her with wide eyes.

“I’ve never heard the likes of it.” Bofur agrees, shaking his head. The flaps of his hat shake with him, and he gives her an incredulous look.

“Are the men where you're from blind?” Dwalin grumbles, sharpening his axe whilst he looks her up and down.

More of the group hum in agreement to this, and Kaia feels her face go red at the surprising compliments.

“W-well… my father always said I didn’t have womanly features. I always wanted to be out in the fields doing the hard labour with him, and I probably eat more than I should…” Kaia’s voice comes out quiet, thinking back on her parents negative thoughts about her.

It was true, Kaia was built more like a farmer than a wife. Years of working on a farm has given her some muscle, and the years of experimenting in the kitchen and making herself hearty meals had given her a little stomach and a bigger behind. She didn’t hate herself, by any measure, but she could understand that she was not the "picture of femininity"…

“You don’t eat nearly enough!” Dori says, shaking his head. Kaia chuckles at this, and the adamant agreement amongst the group.

“Men really are strange creatures…” Dwalin grunts, “If you were a dwarrowdam in the blue mountains, you’ve have dwarrows fighting over you every damn day. Hell, you’d probably be married with four lovers and an army of bairns by now!”

Kaia laughs heartily at this, as the others agree with him with cheers and nods.

“Four lovers?!” She exclaims, as Bilbo looks at her shocked.

But the dwarves all nod, giving her smiles which indicate this to be a huge compliment.

“Of course not.” Fili says, waving his hand in the air. “She’d have at least seven! And they would be the richest dwarf lords in the mountains.

“Aye!” Kili says, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

Kaia looks at them with wide eyes, and looks over at Bilbo who mirrors her confusion.

“And why would I have so many lovers if I were married?” She asks, confused and wondering if she should be insulted. Were they calling her a slut?

The dwarves raise their eyebrows at her.

“As is tradition.” Balin says to her gently, sitting beside his brother. “Dwarrowdams are a very small percent of our population. Because of this, many will often have many paramours and lovers, as well as a husband.”

The dwarves nod at this.

“Aye, the more lovers she has, the more beautiful she must be, and respected she is amongst her kin.” Gloin says, nodding. “My lass has three lovers keeping watch over her back home.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Bilbo says, incredulous.

Gloin guffaws at this, insulted.

“They are all honourable dwarves. I’d trust them with her life and mine, and our lads too.” Gloin says, holding his chin up.

“You must understand, laddie, that it’s not as if there is not commitment there.” Balin says gently, “Taking a lover is a significant arrangement. There are celebrations and all, it's rather romantic.”

“Aye, Bombur’s wife joined with her lover before we left, it was a beautiful ceremony.” Bofur sighs, wistfully.

Kaia looks around at all of them.

“Have any of you have got dwarrowdam lovers waiting for you back home?” She asks, playing with her hair.

“Oh, aye. My dear dam Myssa. She’s truly special.” Dori says, smiling proudly along with Ori and Nori.

“She has a husband?” Kaia asks, carefully. Dori nods enthusiastically.

“His name is Heron. He’s a lovely dwarrow, always welcoming of me and my brothers. We’ve been a family for going on fifty years now.”

Kaia nods at this, finding herself moved by the love in his voice.

“Though, it’s not always about commitments. Sometimes a dam will have a dwarf just for one night of passion.” Bofur says, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Bilbo chokes on his pipe, spitting tufts of clouds. Some of the group nod at this, but others tell Bofur to stop being so vulgar.

“Damn straight.” Nori sighs, a cheeky grin on his face, “Nothing like a beautiful lass taking you into her arms for just a long moment…”

“Nori! Don’t make it sound so lewd!” Dori tuts. Beside him, Ori flushes deep red, avoiding Kaia’s eyes.

“He’s right, though. A good tumble in the hay is exactly what a dwarf needs to keep his mind sharp.” Grumbles Dwalin, who smirks down at his axe. Kaia stares at him, and his large hands, wondering if they are talented at more than just axe-wielding.

Noticing her gaze, Dwalin locks eyes with her. His eyes travel down her body, slowly, taking in every inch of her. Kaia pants slightly at the fire in his eyes, and feels like she is naked in front of him. She wishes she was naked in front of him…

“What’s all this about?” Comes Thorin’s voice, who walks into the centre of the camp. He looks around at the dwarves, a variety of expressions looking up at him.

His eyes land on Kaia, who is flushed red and breathing deeply. His eyes linger on her chest for a moment, before he looks into her eyes.

Can one of these dwarves please just take it easy on me for five minutes…

“We were just educating our dear lass and hobbit about dwarvish customs.” Balin says nonchalantly, trying to clear some of the tension in the camp.

“You know the ones, uncle…” Fili drawls, leaning back slightly. He locks eyes with Kaia as he says, “Sharing is caring.”

Kaia looks over at him, and he spreads his legs slightly while tilting his head. The movement has Kaia blushing, and she looks away, catching Kili’s eyes. Kili is watching her intensely, a slight pink tint to his cheeks but a smile graces his lips. The look in his eyes, as well as the look in Filis, has Kaia’s body practically thrumming with desire.

“Now, now, boys. The lass is human, she’s unused to our dwarfish customs. Don’t make her feel uncomfortable.” Balin says, shaking his head at the princes. He gives her a warm smile, which she feebly returns.

“Aye, Bilbo’s practically seizing.” Nori says, chuckling. He’s right, Bilbo is as red as a sunburnt tomato, mouth agape and eyes wide at the revelation of the dwarves voyeuristic behaviours.

“That’s enough. It’s almost time to eat, stop this foolishness and return to your duties.” Thorin growls, walking away from the group.

The air is thick with tension. Across from her, Fili is staring at her like he wants to devour her, and Kili is watching her like he wants her to devour him.

Balin follows after Thorin, leaving Dwalin in his place to glide his hands over his axe, watching her legs as they tremble slightly. He grins, spreading his legs slightly at the sight.

Dori is chastising Nori, who is watching the dwarves around him with a grin.

Bofur watches Kaia from around his pipe next to her, one of his legs shaking nervously, and Kaia can spot a slight tent in his trousers..

“Foods ready!” Bombur yells across the camp, and Kaia has never stood up so fast.

-

After dinner, Kaia kept to her bed roll. She sat cross legged on it, crushing up some lavender to add to her collection of medicinal herbs. Her brain is practically vibrating with memories of the events of this evening.

Fili was such a tease, looking at her with hungry eyes and displaying himself like that… damn that dwarf. It didn’t help that Kili had spent all of dinner making heart eyes at her, making her swoon and tug at the collar of her shirt.

Bofur kept making his jokes throughout, but his eyes lingered on hers longer than they did before, often travelling down her neck before he looked away with a blush. He was such a sweet dwarf, and there was something about him that made her want to jump his bones-

Dwalin had been the worst of them all. He was like a dwarf in heat, staring at her with half shut eyes and breathing heavily, even going as far as to adjust himself in front of her. The memory of it made her hands clench, wanting nothing more than to storm over to him where he was now and tease him, herself.

She really needed to get these thoughts in check.

Kaia was sure she would have been fine if the damned dwarves hadn’t started talking about how they’re all basically a bunch of sluts. Now all she wanted was to grab the first dwarf she sees and pull him down into the grass-

“You alright, lass?” Asked Balin, coming up to stand beside her.

Never mind, maybe the second dwarf she sees…

“I’m fine, Balin. A bit tired.” She smiles at him. He had become like a sort of father figure to her during these last few weeks, and he always had a kind word for her.

Balin offers her a warm smile.

“I’m not surprised lass. It’s been a long day for all of us.” He pats her shoulder. “The princes found a small lake nearby, and the dwarves are taking it in turns to have a quick wash. If you would much rather wait and go by yourself-”

“Yes please!” Kaia exclaimed, giddily. A wash was all she needed. Some cold water, and some time away from these pesky dwarves and the pheromones that came with them.

Balin chuckles at her eagerness. “Very good, lass. Ori and Nori are going next, I’ll tell them to let you know when they’re done.”

She smiles brightly at him, and he waves her goodnight.

Across the camp, Fili dries his hair while watching her. Catching her eye, he gives her a wink. She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles widely at her.

-

Half an hour later, Nori and Ori return. Kaia heads over and Ori helpfully points her in the direction of the lake. She thanks him and starts heading in the direction he pointed to.

The lake was not too far from the camp, but far enough that she embraced the quiet night ambience during the walk over, the Companies voices fading into nothing. She played with the braid in her hair as she walked, gently tugging it loose.

A twig snapping catches her attention.

Kaia stops, freezing in place. She reaches for her dagger which is usually sheathed at her side. Coming up short, she realises she left it behind.

Shit, she thinks. Another sound of crunching soil makes her spin around, eyes wide in fear. She grabs a stick from the ground and holds it up in defence.

Kili walks into her view, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Have mercy on me, please.” He chuckles, and Kaia breathes a sigh of relief.

“You scared me, you oaf!” She throws the stick at him, and he catches it. He smiles at her, shrugging.

“You’re getting better. I would have been able to sneak up on you with no trouble, a few weeks ago.”

“I’ve gotten used to you and your brother pulling shit, you’ve trained me well.”

They laugh, and Kili looks down at his feet, kicking a patch of dirt. The laughs die down, and he looks back into her eyes.

His eyes are so soft, her breath hitches. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again and swallows thickly.

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable before.” He says, suddenly. “Talking about… you know all of that lover… stuff…”

“It’s alright, Kee.” Kaia smiles softly. “Truly, it didn’t bother me. It just caught me off guard I guess…”

“Of course, that makes sense.” He scratches the back of his neck. He is blushing again. Practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking at anything but her.

“Are you okay?” She asks, taking a step towards him. Kili looks at her, dropping his hands to his side. He goes to say something, but seems to not find the words. He takes a step towards her, meeting her halfway.

“I just… the conversation before…” He starts, “It got me thinking… about you.”

“About me?”

“About how much I want you.”

Kaia gasps slightly. She was not surprised by this, his actions had proved he desired her in some way. But the rumble in his voice as he said it, the vulnerability in his eyes as he confessed this to her. It made her heart quicken in place.

“You want me?” She says quietly, staring into his eyes.

“Yes.” Kili reaches his hand out, dragging his ring finger over her cheek. Kaia’s skin breaks out in goosebumps where he traces his finger across her skin, dragging it over her lower lip.

In a moment of confidence, she kisses his finger. He freezes, looking down at her lips. Darting her tongue out, she licks the pad of his finger, emboldened by the lust in his dark eyes. Kaia drags her teeth over his finger, before taking it between her lips, sucking slightly.

Kili groans, swaying slightly. He presses himself closer to her, pressing his lips to her temple. She can feel his bulge pressing into her pelvis, and she moans into his neck. His other hand seizes her hip, grasping her like she was the only thing anchoring him, twisting his other hand in her hair. He pulled it slightly, bringing her head back and causing her to let out a breathy gasp.

He kissed her exposed neck, dragging his lips over her tender, flushed skin. She dragged a hand over his chest, finding his exposed neck and dragging her nails against the stubble across his jaw.

Groaning, Kili presses his hips against her again, gasping into her shoulder.

“Fuck, Kaia…” He breathes, holding her to him.

“Kili…” Kaia moans, tracing her other hand down his stomach, coming to rest against his tented trousers. Kili moans, extracting his head from her neck.

“Can I… can we….” Kili stutters, eyes clouded in lust. She bites her lip, looking around to make sure they were really alone. She rubs at his erection, and he gasps again.

“I need you.” Kaia says, and Kili grins, smashing his lips onto hers.

The kiss is messy and rushed, clashing teeth and tongues licking at each others. They grasp onto one another, hands caressing and grabbing anything they could find.

Kaia pushes Kili back, pressing him against a tree. Separating from the kiss, Kaia fumbles with the ties on his leather trousers. Kili breathes sharply in front of her, running his hands through her hair and across her face and neck.

Once his trousers are undone, she pulls them down to his knees, causing his cock to spring free. He’s long and thick, the head of him red and weeping. She bites her lip at the sight, and looks into his eyes.

Kili blushes in front of her, bringing his hands up to rest on the tree above him. He looks so innocent and loving as he watches her, submitting himself to her completely. She kisses him once more, taking his lower lip between her teeth and biting it gently, and he groans, his cock pulsing between them.

Unable to wait any longer, Kaia drops to her knees, dragging her hands over his muscled thighs. Above her, Kili drops his head against the tree behind him, exhaling shakily as Kaia nestles her head against his lower stomach.

Pulling her head back, Kaia darts her tongue out, licking a line along the underside of his dick. Kili gasps and shudders, the leather of his tunic groans as his digs his nails into the tree trunk.

Kaia takes the tip of him into her mouth, licking at him before sucking, creating a vacuum. One of Kili’s hands grasps onto her skull, clenching into her hair. She moans around his cock, sending vibrations through him, and his cock pulses in response.

She slides her head down further, taking as much of him into her mouth. She let her spit gather around his length, dragging her hand along the rest of him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck..!” Kili gasps, breathing laboured as he tried to not cum immediately due to her actions.

Kaia smiles around him, dragging her head back and forth with renewed vigour, twisting her fist around him in tandem with her mouth. Kili thrusts slightly into her mouth, his hand in her hair guiding her movements as he gasped and groaned low in his throat.

Kaia looked up at him through her eyelashes, and was rewarded immediately for her care of him. He looked down her with blown out pupils, eyes half-lidded and and mouth opened as he took staggered breaths.

She reached further down and grasped onto his balls, rolling them in her hand. Kili let out a whine, throwing his head back.

“Stop… stop….” He mutters, pulling her head back from his shaft.

Kaia removes her mouth and hands immediately, wiping at the corner of her lips as she stood up.

“Kili? Oh gods, did I hurt you?! I’m so sorry-” She’s interrupted by his lips crashing onto hers, causing her to gasp into his mouth. He wraps his arms around her, kissing her deeply and hurriedly.

He pulls back, holding her close as he looks into her eyes. “I’m so close… I need… Please let me...” He begs so prettily, hands holding her waist in a vice like grip.

Kaia smiles wrapping an arm around his neck as she lowers herself to the ground.

Lying back, Kili hovers over her. His eyes are wide and he seems suddenly nervous, going to say something. Kaia presses her finger against his lips.

“Shh, baby. Let me take care of you.” She murmurs, dragging her hands over his chest. Kili groans, laying his body over hers.

He nuzzles his head into her neck, and Kaia runs her hands through his hair, causing another choked gasp to come from the younger Durin prince.

As he nuzzles and kisses at her neck, Kaia lifts her skirt, tugging at her undergarment until it was hanging around her foot. She lifted her legs and pressed them into his sides, and Kili moaned into her neck, feeling her warmth pressing against his waist.

Kili raises his head, looking into her eyes. A silent question rests on his face, asking for her permission once more. She smiles fondly at him, leaning up to kiss his nose.

“Fuck me, Kili.”

With a groan, kill reaches down between them, taking his unbearably hard cock and pressing the tip into her. Kaia was soaking, and the feel of her warmth just at the head makes Kili whine.

Pressing into her, his eyes roll back as she takes him to easily, practically dragging him in further. Kaia gasps and locks her legs around his waist, urging him to push into her. He does so eagerly, thrusting his hips into her, sheathing himself into her to the hilt.

They both groan at the feeling. He’s so large and thick, and she’s so tight and wet. Kili shudders, his head dropping to her chest as he begins thrusting into her, fast and sloppy.

“Kaia, fuck, I… I’m so close already…. fuck, you feel so good, so tight around me…” Kili murmurs, his words becoming incoherent as he moves faster.

Kaia reaches up into his hair, caressing him as his hips begin to stutter. He lifts his head, looking into her eyes. He’s completely blissed out, eyes full of pure ecstasy, but he looks to her in apology as he knows he’s about to reach is end.

Kaia smiles at him, a wide smile which melts Kili’s heart.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” She whispers to him.

Kili gasps, and pushes his head into the junction between her neck and shoulder. His thrusts have become erratic, and he murmurs to her in Khuzdul as his hips slap against hers.

“Amrâlimê-” Kili chokes out, as he finishes. A low whine escapes him, filling her with his seed. Kaia moans at the feeling, keeping her legs wrapped around his as he spills himself, filling her up. He keeps moving, fucking into her until he becomes exhausted.

Collapsing onto her, Kili breathes heavily into her neck. Kaia runs her hands through his hair, soothing him as he comes down from his high.

He nuzzles her, speaking sweet words into her neck.

“So beautiful… you make me feel so good, ghivashel…” He murmurs, kissing along her collarbone. She smiles into his hair.

He pulls himself from her, causing her cunt to throb once again. He felt so good, and she was sure if he lasted a little longer she would have joined him in his orgasm. But, alas, such is life.

Kili looks up at her, his cheeks flushed and smiling wide. His forehead is covered in sweat, sticking his fringe to his face. She chuckles, combing her fingers through his hair.

He opens his mouth to speak, but is beaten to the punch…

“Well, what do we have here?”

Kaia squeaks in surprise at the new voice, and both she and Kili look over to find the source of the voice...

-

Thank you for reading!! The next chapter will be up soon!! If you can't wait, the first four chapters are up on my AO3 <3

Translations !!

Ghivashel – treasure of all treasures

[hypocriticalspicewrites]

*walks into the frame* PSST! cherryyyyyyyy *whispers* could you write an NSFW alphabet of ace and Nancy? *only if u feel comfortable* *walks away slowly bye cher 👋🏻🩷*

🩷🎀𝑪𝒐𝒃𝒓𝒂𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚'𝒔 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑨𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒕🎀🩷

I FOUND THE OG!! Hi Anon! Thank you so much for the ask~ 👀 I've never done and NSFW alphabet but these seem fun! Yall should let me know if you'd want more of these!

Note most of these headcanons are around the time Ace and Nancy are in a more committed relationship/married, so it ranges from like 19-22!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex?)

Ace isn't the best in the cleaning up department, and he'll probably just go hop in the shower and ask if Nancy wants to join. But he's real good on checking on his girl and asking if she's feeling good or if she needs anything.

God Ace loves Nancy's post-sex cooking/baking. It's like the best thing he's ever had. When he wakes up in the morning, or even some days it's like she makes dinner a certain type of way that he just has to throw her over his shoulder whilst she's in the middle of dishes and take her upstairs to thank her the way he does best~ 🤭

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ace loves Nancy's thighs and tits. I just think he's overall a legs kind of guy and his girl's got LEGS. He's an absolute horndog for her. There isn't a second he doesn't have a hand on her thigh while driving or sitting talking with the Cobras. And the way she squeezes them around his hips when she's close is enough to have him cumming right there.

If it counts, his eyes. Nancy loves this look Ace gives her that she knows means once they get home she's in trouble. And he makes sure she sees it cause it's like he's burning two holes into the back of her head from across the room.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum?)

If it's not going inside her, it's going in her mouth. Ace is making sure she swallows all of it or is taking it all so it doesn't get on his cars seats/paint. And I think he's got himself a liitttlle bit of a breeding kink.

D = Dirty secret ( a dirty secret of theirs?)

Some days when he'd have a long day at work or he's feeling a little lonely he has a picture of Nancy kept in one of the center dashes of his car he jacks-off to. It's her in some skimpy swimsuit [at least as skimpy as they could get back in the 50s-60s] posing on a beach that just seems to get his gears turning. 🤷‍♀️

Nancys is rather tame, she just likes ready some spicy smut books and daydreams about them being her and Ace.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think it's said Ace has some experience under his belt with his multiple relationships in his past, so he's probably the one to take charge of most things for a good while, considering poor Nance had little to know understanding considering she waited for him.

F = Favorite position?

If it's in bed, it's usually missionary or mating press, but Ace loves car sex, and he likes cowgirl position while he's laid back in his front seat.

G=Goofy: (Are they serious or goofy in the mood?)

Its pretty serious on both halves, nothing gets too silly or goofy when they're going at it and it stays relatively tame. Rarely, Ace will crack some comment after they finish up to make her giggle, but that's really it.

H=Hair: (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)

Im not sure how well groomed you had to be down there to meet the late 50s/60s etiquette, so I'm just going of my personal thoughts. Ace keeps himself trimmed and neat, at least when he cares to/remembers. He also has a faint blonde happy trail whenever his shirt rides up.

And I'm assuming it was kinda expected of woman back then, so Nancy is usually completely shaven all around down there. [Even though I think Ace could care less about body hair. She's like me and self conscious 😔]

I=Intimacy: (How are they during the moment?)

At first, to Ace it was just... Fucking. But after a while when he found himself unable to feel that good with anyone but her, or whenever he was getting way into it and he found himself muttering about how he was gonna marry her so he could do this to her everyday anytime he wanted, he realized that maybe his girlfriend should be more than some nice peice of ass. And so it grew more intimate and more meaningful as they're relationship grew.

J=Jack-off: (Masturbation Headcanons?)

See the dirty secret above...☝️

K=Kink: (Anything they are into)

Like I said, I could see Ace getting a little baby fever and having a breeding kink. I mean, this man is always trynna win, he pumped THREE babies into this girl and he's very smug about it for a good... Rest of his life.

L=Location: ( Favorite places to do it)

Anywhere and everywhere. Especially in his car. Car sex is something Ace almost makes tradition anytime he has this girl alone I'm his car. It's either in his car, or out by the riverside, which usually starts as wholesome picnicking, mind you. With Nancy making flower crowns while he's fishing, and it slowly turns into full blown love-making on the blanket LMAO.

Nancy doesn't mind and seems to enjoy just as much, but she finds he's a lot more intimate and softer if it's behind closer doors and in the bedroom.

M=Motivation: (What turns them on, gets em going?)

Nancy just has to breath on him and he's on her like a wildcat LMAO. I mean, the way she walks away all huffy and her hips sway in those tight waist skirts, or when she has to hold her skirt down when he's cruising down the road wayy over the legal limit to him the face breeze from blowing her skirt up. Anything this girl does is leaving him hopeless.

Anytime Ace is out working or comes back from work... Oh this girl is fanning herself and struggling to keep her hands to herself. Especially if he's out working on his car, all sweaty and muscles bulging while he's carrying his tools or a tire under his arm, or he's all covered in dirt and hunched over panting from working in the garden... Hunny PRAY FOR HER.

N=No: (Whats something they won't do?)

Ace, as surprising as it is, isn't too find if really hurting Nancy. He'll give her a little slap on the ass or thigh here and there, or bite her and suck on her neck, sure! But I don't think he'd hit her or slap her face, or spit on her. Or begging. He likes it rough, but he knows Nance is a sensitive little thing and he doesn't want her to feel uncomfortable or God forbid not enjoy there intimate moments.

O=Oral: (Giving or receiving? How good are they at it?)

Ace loves receiving- but doesn't give it. Nancy doesn't mind cause he can pleasure her in many different ways, and she also doesn't kind giving him head either. He usually only let's her give him a Blow-job usually in- you guessed it, his car. As well as hand-jobs while he's at the wheel.

P=Pace: (Are they slow or fast?)

Ace starts off slow, getting use to it and getting into the rhythm, but then they start to pick things up, and it gets quick and rough after a minute or two. Rarely is he super soft and slow, the times he was was when they ran away to elope and a few weeks after the triplets were born.

Q=Quickie: (How often are they willing for quickies?)

More than you'd think. Ace is super into quickies and that's usually what's going on in his car behind the wheel LMAO. Sometimes Nance has initiated them, but it's mostly just a quick necking session behind a farm or away from prying eyes.

R=Risks

I don't think these two are up for much from there usually sex life. Maybe they'll shake things up a bit and try something new, but Ace likes to keep things easy and simple with his girl, it always feels better and amazing each and every time anyway so he isn't complaining.

S=Stamina: (How long can they go for? How long can they last)

Id say Ace can go about two or three rounds before he's tired out, and even then he can last a good while before he bottoms out. Nancy can go about two before she's a mess- which just makes Ace push her for another one. 💀

T=Toys?

Nah. I don't know if toys were popular a lot in the late 50s-60s, but Ace or Nancy aren't really ones into it- maybe he'd tie her up/blindfold her with a tie or belt, but that's really it!

U=Unfair: (Do they tease?)

Ace teases, I think he makes comments or playful names during intimacy, but anything like begging I don't think he'd be into. He'd probably tease her for being needy ro begging, but he would withhold anything fromm her. Nancy on the other hand surprisingly, likes to tease lead him on allll day before he can't take it anymore. Some days she just likes torturing him with cat and mouse till he's finally had enough and is dragging her up to there bedroom.

V=Volume: (How loud are they?)

Ace leaves it all to Nancy to let everyone know how good she's getting it. She can be pretty loud, mostly whining and whimpering, but she moans and gasp a little when she's close or he's getting super rough. The most you'll get out of Ace is grunts and sighs, maybe a groan or two, but rarely.

W=Wild card: (Random headcanon?)

Rambles when he gets pussy-drunk. 🙌 And it's the sweetest thing to ever come out of his mouth. It's so funny that it's then and only then he's actually saying something so sweet and intimate.

"God I can't wait to marry you. Then I can do this to you all day every fuckin' day.. You'd like that, yeah?"

"Look at you, all pretty and worked up just for me... Lookin' just like a princess Nance..."

X=X-ray (WHATS GOING UNDER THE PANTS?)

I'd say a good 6.5 inches, more girth than length but even then, nice and average. He has a blonde happy trail that isn't super noticeable with how pale it is. He has a couple veins trailing the sides, and an extremely sensitive one that runs over the underside of his dick.

Y=Yearning: (How big is there sex drive?)

Ace is more than willing to get it on whenever. He's doing it as long as Nance is willing to do it. This man his hornee for his lady and isn't about to turn down any and all requests to head back to their room for some sex after a hard day of working. He's got sex-drive that's pretty constant, but also flexible to fit whenever his girl is in the mood.

Z=Zzz: (How quick are they to fall asleep after?)

Ace is awake for a minute or two before dozing off eventually, Nancy stays awake for a couple. He's usually really quiet after, and the only way she knows he's still awake as him drawing lazy circles in her back or rubbing her arm before the motion slows and his hand goes limp. Sometimes he stays awake enough to indulge in some pillow talk. 🩷

[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes-Chapter 7

Note:  Note: First off, thank you for your likes and comments. This is a lot later post than I intended it to be. I’m working really hard on Chapter 9 and it’s taking me longer than I thought. That chapter is when Pheonyx and Daryl officially start the search for Sophia.  So, they’re alone and there isn’t a lot of show dialogue for me to bounce off of. I had a couple days of writer's block and I’ve been working slowly on it. I keep rearranging how I want their conversation to go and also rewatching the season over and over to make sure I’m characterizing Daryl correctly. I want it to be believable. Long story short, I don’t want to post chapter 8 until I have 9 done, so it might be a bit until I’ve posted it. I think once I get over this hump, since it’s the first one on one scene with Daryl and Pheonyx(with Kismet as his wingman) that I’ll be able to write faster. Hopefully. Also sorry for how short this is. The last chapter and this one was originally one chapter but I want to keep my chapters around the same length(3-4k) and it ended up over 6k. So I split it up. 

Chapter TW/CW: internal homophobia, transphobia, descriptions of past abuse, denial of sexuality?(Not sure how to describe it), self-deprecating thoughts, parental death.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @omiyours

Banner by: @liminal-creations​ 

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Masterlist

DARYL'S POV

As Daryl was making his way away from the service, fully intending to head straight into the woods to continue the search for Sophia, Rick caught up to his long strides and cut him off. The cop stood in front of him and Daryl narrowed his eyes at the man. 

“Before you head out, I want to get the group together to make a plan for the search.”, Rick said. 

“Ain’t got time for that, man. Shoulda been out at first light lookin’ for the girl.”, Daryl snapped, annoyed at being held up. 

Rick placed his hands on his hips, one hand hovering on the grip of his Colt Python. “Just listen, please. Hershel’s stepson has offered his help for the search. And I’d like you to partner up with him.” Daryl was about to cut in, but Rick continued,  “He’s an experienced tracker and hunter, and he knows these woods better than any of us do. He says he’s been working with his dog on scent tracking, too. With both of you, and the dog, looking for Sophia, I think we have a better chance of finding her.” 

Daryl shook his head, irritated. He worked better alone. His focus needed to be on finding the girl and he couldn’t do that with someone else following him around. Having the group with him yesterday was bad enough. The woods were his domain, his comfort zone. Some stranger on his coattails, mucking up the trails, and making noise while he was trying to concentrate, wasn’t something he wanted to deal with. Not when a little girl’s life was on the line. 

As if reading his mind, Rick said, “Just talk to him. That’s all I ask. If you don’t want to work with him after that, then fine.” 

Daryl wanted to tell him off, or to just walk away. Before he could, Rick was turning and waving a hand to call over Pheonyx, who had been walking back towards the house from Otis’s tribute. Daryl noticed a slight hesitation and stiffening of the man’s body as he looked between Rick and himself. But it was gone in a blink of an eye. The hound dog followed behind Pheonyx and they both stopped in front of the two men. 

Rick smiled at the younger man. Daryl felt his ears warm as Pheonyx lifted the corners of his mouth in return. The heat spread to his face as the other man’s green eyes met his own. The light shade of green reminded him of the pair of fern plants his momma planted in front of their trailer when he was 7 years old. The old mobile home had been extremely run down. Paint was peeling off the walls and several windows had cracks or were missing from his Pa’s violent outbursts. The small grass patch in front of the trailer was often overgrown and full of weeds. But his momma wanted to fix the place up. Unfortunately they didn’t have a lot of money for paint, or pretty flowers to plant. They didn’t have a lot of money for anything really. Momma worked as a waitress at the local diner but most of the money she made, his Pa stole to use for drugs or alcohol. He remembered the day she brought home those little ferns though. His Pa had been off on a bender for a week, like usual. She carried the tiny plants in with a huge smile on her face. They'd been on clearance at the local hardware store because some of the leaves were dried out but his momma was convinced it just needed a little love and care. That afternoon, Daryl and Merle helped her clean up the yard. Merle borrowed the neighbor’s push mower to mow the small yard and Daryl helped Momma weed the area around the front door. He and Merle dug the small holes on either side of the door for the plants, stopping to throw dirt at each other occasionally. When the ferns were planted, the trio stood, Momma’s arms wrapped around both boys’ shoulders, and looked at the trailer. It was still shitty. The paint was still falling off and there was still cardboard on the windows. But the little plants with dried leaves made it look like home. Over the next couple of years, as his mother’s depression and alcohol problems grew, so did the plants. They grew so big that his Pa forced him to cut part of them down because he kept tripping on the long leaves when he would stumble home at night. Despite that, the plants thrived and every time Daryl saw them, he was reminded of that day with Merle and momma. The look of joy on her face. It was one of the few happy memories he had with her. And it was all destroyed the day the trailer caught fire.

The ferns burned away. Right along with his momma. 

Daryl felt his heart ache at the reminder of his mother. But the green of Pheonyx’s eyes still reminded him of that happy day and he was almost entranced. He barely even registered Rick standing next to him. 

“Pheonyx, this is Daryl Dixon. He’s the tracker I mentioned yesterday. He’s been headin’ up the search for Sophia. Daryl, this is Hershel’s stepson. Both Maggie and Hershel say he is an expert on the property and woods surrounding it. He’s offered his services-”, a loud bark from the mutt sitting at Pheonyx’s side had Rick pausing for a moment. “And his dog, to help find Sophia. I’d appreciate it if you two would work together to head up the search for her.”

The arms he had crossed over his chest tensed. As entranced as he was by the man across from him, he couldn’t work with him. In all honesty, he was slightly scared of the emotions he was feeling. They were unraveling the identity that he had clung to for so long. He hadn’t even spoken to Pheonyx yet and his stomach was already in knots. He had to stay far away from him. Maybe then, the feelings would go away. He wanted to lash out at Rick, at Pheonyx, the emotional turmoil raging in his head. But that wouldn’t do anything besides alienate himself further from this group. It might even put them in jeopardy of being kicked off the farm. And he couldn’t do that to them. 

“Work better alone”, he grunted at the man, not even looking at Rick. 

Pheonyx gave a nod, not taking offense to what he said. “So do I. But I spent last night creating a plan for the search. We can split up tomorrow but I need your help at least for today. I’ve been working with Kismet,” he tilted his head towards the dog at his side, some of his brown hair falling over his forehead. Daryl fought the urge to reach out and brush it back. “, on scent tracking for the last month. I need you to take me to exactly where she and Rick split up. He can follow her trail from there. It hasn’t rained so he shouldn’t have too much trouble.”

The sound of the younger man’s voice was like a soft blanket draping over his sweaty shoulders, it eased the tension in his muscles on contact. The sound wasn’t deep but husky and light. Creeping around his head like smoke from a campfire and easing the ever-present vigilance that Daryl had grown accustomed to. Almost losing his train of thought over the drug-like effect of Pheonyx’s voice, Daryl looked towards the sheriff, wondering why he couldn’t be the one to show the other man where Sophia went missing. As if reading his mind, Pheonyx continued, “Rick needs to stay here for Carl and Lori. And Shane fucked up his ankle at the high school. Or else one of them would take me.”

Pheonyx was right about Rick. Daryl couldn’t, in good conscience, ask the man to leave his son, who had just been at death’s door the day prior. And his stomach clenched at the idea of sending Pheonyx off with Shane. Daryl wasn’t entirely certain about Pheonyx’s gender identity. He could just be a biological male with more feminine features. But he suspected the man was transgender. It was no issue to him, but he had a fair idea that it would be an issue to Deputy Douchebag. Shane wasn’t as openly hateful as Merle was, but he was judgmental and sexist. Merle was a loud hateful person. He screamed and hurled slurs, made threats but he rarely ever reached the point of violence, unless he was high. But Shane, his hate was a simmering cauldron, just on the cusp of boiling. Quiet little bubbles that could easily lead to an exploding pot.   At the Quarry, the man kept camp duties fairly segregated in regards to gender. Women weren’t ever allowed on watch or runs, and were mostly kept to cleaning and cooking duties. Shane made the argument every time that the women weren’t trained and therefore would be liabilities. But he also refused to do gun training for anyone, citing lack of ammo as the reasoning. He didn’t go on long winded rants like Merle did. He chose sly comments and verbal digs as his weapons of choice. Offhand comments about “women’s work” and snorts when Andrea offered help with watches or runs. While Shane had never specifically said anything about LGBT people, Daryl just had a feeling that the man’s views would not be friendly. And with his suspicions regarding Otis’s untimely death, Daryl refused to put Pheonyx in the possible firing lane. Why he cared so much about a man he just met was something he was trying to avoid thinking about. 

Despite his personal preferences of working alone, and avoiding any more contact with Pheonyx to quell the feelings building in his chest, Daryl had to admit that having a scent tracking dog would give them a leg up in finding Sophia. Looking down at the dog, he had to contain a snort. The pup was on his back, body curled around, chewing on his back leg like it was a rawhide. He met Pheonyx’s gaze. 

“That mutt is a tracker? He don’t look like he’s got much goin’ on behind those eyes.” 

Pheonyx’s eyes drew together in confusion and he looked down at Kismet. Daryl noted a blush spreading across his tan cheeks when he realized what the dog was doing. At the sheepish look, he couldn’t contain his snort, and he heard Rick chuckle along beside him. 

The younger man nudged the dog with his boot, causing him to roll over into a regular down position. Daryl heard him mutter something unintelligible. Pheonyx stood firm though, the conviction in his expression settling in Daryl’s chest. 

“Okay, Kismet may not be the brightest crayon in the box, I’ll admit. But when he’s got a job he works hard. Unfortunately, you guys don’t have the luxury of shopping for a certified dog. I stand by him though. We’ve only tracked wildlife so far, but I would bet my life on this ‘mutt’”

Despite the voice in his brain telling him it was a bad idea, Daryl nodded his agreement to work with him and the dog. His heart sped up a bit at the thought of working closely with Pheonyx, but he brushed it off. He’d work with him to find Sophia. Then that was it. He’d back off and these intense feelings would fade. 

He hoped.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @yoongibaybee, @edgyboi10000

[kaicean]

I normally just draw and not make long text posts but I have bundled up Natsu/Lucy feelings I want to word vomit ever since I picked up the Fairy Tail game out of curiosity (PLS & THIS & ?!?!) and most of all watched the Dragon Cry movie for the very first time a few months ago (July ironically). This movie dragged me back by the neck to this ship I loved several years ago.

Now I own a copy of the movie’s storyboard manga drawn by Mashima himself and the pamphlet. I flip through the pages of these two more times than I can count like-

真島自らが描いた、ナツの回想の中ルーシィ Natsu’s recollection of Lucy, drawn by Mashima himself

I’ve read several essays + interview (i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii to name a few) revolving around the famous nalu scenes in the movie, but I don’t think I ever came across anyone talking about what I think is the ultimate song that perfectly captures them in their entirety—Dragon Cry’s ending theme What You Are by Polka Dots.

There are only two translations I found, one of them being from the wiki but it’s a little off. This one is more accurate. My translation version is a mix of it plus usage of DeepL so it may not be entirely accurate but it’s close enough.

I absolutely see this song as Lucy -> Natsu due to obvious phrases within the lyrics and it fits my headcanon of Natsu being metaphorically Lucy’s brightest star. His name means summer which has ties to the sun, aka the brightest star. The sun is known to be the brightest star because it’s the closest to us, just like the person closest to Lucy is Natsu.

You're still you, no matter what Softly illuminating the darkness You're a star

Self explanatory, first line starts off with Lucy’s answer to Natsu’s “What do I look like?” question. This was first shown to us in the beginning of the movie so let’s keep that in mind.

Where is tomorrow? The past cannot be erased In a pitch-dark world I found a warm, enveloping light "It's gonna be okay" the voice said That voice echoed in my heart I want to believe in you, whatever you are Whatever the road I take, I want to be by your side I want to keep walking Wish on a star Let's find it, let's find it The only light

This can be easily depicted by my favorite scene in Snow Fairy opening, where Lucy’s world was rainy and bleak until a literal light shines through when she looks at Fairy Tail, particularly Mirajane and main team:

She ran away from home, stripped herself from Lucy Heartfilia to just Lucy, and began her own journey. Her world was small and lonely due to her strict upbringing but it was thanks to Natsu, who led her to Fairy Tail, that her world brightened and expanded since that day. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t hide her Heartfilia name for long which led us to the Phantom Lord arc. Here was where Natsu firmly assured her twice that she could stay in the guild and that it is her home that she can come back to, because she’s Lucy of Fairy Tail. These feelings were further cemented towards the end of the arc by Makarov. From then, she stopped running away and faced her past/father head-on, before returning home to the guild.

The cherry blossom colored dusk reflects in your eyes I'm not sad, yet the tears spilled Someone once said that the most beautiful things are fleeting No matter what today is, it has meaning I’ll always be by your side I'll hold your hand tight Let's tell each other The feelings hidden in our hearts You're a star You're a star

This part screams post-Tenrou Island and GMG arc+. One of my top favorite chapters is chapter 257 which happened after the 7-year timeskip. Natsu, Lucy and Happy traveled to visit Lucy’s father only to find out he had passed away just one month prior. Natsu offered her words of comfort and space but it’s this chapter where the lost of time was incredibly overwhelming for Lucy. I truly believe it was after this day (her BIRTHDAY no less wtf Mashima, satanic much???) that “time” was seen more precious and that every day has a meaning. Lucy’s first step of moving forward was tagging along with Natsu and Happy on a job, and her monologue just hits.

The concept of each moment being precious solidified during the GMG arc. Future Lucy lost her life to save her past self before wishing she could go on more adventures. Present Lucy proclaimed she had to laugh, cry, and live enough for both her and her future self. In Future Lucy’s version of heaven, it was Natsu who first called out to her and pulled her hand to say “Let’s continue on our adventure” before they ceased to exist.

And in the current timeline, present Lucy felt what Future Lucy felt in her heart. She then thanked Natsu, for saving her and their future.

You ask, "What am I?" I'll answer, "You're you” That assurance is all we need from each other Let’s make a wish upon the shining stars You're still you, no matter what The one who gently shines in the darkness That's right, my own Superstar A Superstar that lights up this road that goes on and on You're a star

At the end of the song, we circled back to the beginning, just like we did in the movie where Natsu asked Lucy for the second time what he looked like and she assured him yet again that Natsu looked like Natsu, obviously. And this was enough.

Natsu was the one who saved her (unintentionally) back in Hargeon thus leading her to Fairy Tail and stuck with her ever since. He became the person who she was closest to and vice versa. It was thanks to him that she got to experience so many things and came out stronger from it. Without meeting him and Happy, she wouldn’t be the person she was today. No matter what happens, as Natsu told her at the end of the main series, it doesn’t matter because they will always be together, to continue on more adventures!

I love when songs line up perfectly with the theme and this takes the cake. Thanks for coming to my TED talk as I continue to listen to this song on repeat and cry. I can’t wait until I can draw all of this out in the future, something similar to my comic here.

Also if there is an analysis of nalu + dragon cry’s ending theme out there, pls throw it my way thanks I will literally die on this hill.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really That Bad?

Phase 4, the first post-Endgame phase of the MCU, has been a bit of a mixed bag for a lot of people, but I don’t honestly think that’s totally on the quality of the films and shows themselves. While there are some real mid films there are some genuinely great entries, ones like Shang Chi, Werewolf by Night, Wakanda Forever, and No Way Home. And even the more lackluster entries still have some genuinely good things to offer; I’m no fan of Eternals or Black Widow, but they definitely have some great aspects that justify them existing. The real issue, I feel, is how quickly Phase 4 was churned out; in nearly two years the amount of MCU entries has almost doubled, and with that much flooding us all at once cracks begin to show and people who were once more charitable towards flaws will become exhausted and stop overlooking them.

That left She-Hulk: Attorney at Law in an incredibly unenviable position, and one that only worsened as it continued to air. I mean, releasing a trailer that has effects that look unfinished at best is bad enough. But to then have to release while reports of VFX artist abuse start pouring out? This show soon became the butt of various jokes, the subject of obnoxious clickbait videos about how the MCU is woke trash, and gave people fuel to contribute to the fire that is the myth of “superhero fatigue.”

The discourse surrounding the show definitely killed my interest for a long while, but in hindsight I shouldn’t have let it do that; as we’ll get into later, the backlash to this has undertones as scummy as the ones that helped tank a certain Joel Schumacher superhero movie. With all that in mind, it’s easy to assume it’s not really that bad… so this time the question is more, “Is this show any good?”

THE GOOD

Unsurprisingly, Tatiana Maslany carries this show on her back. Jen is such a charming, awkward, likable character in her hands, and she sells her every single moment of the show. It would have been really easy to fuck this up considering the distracting CGI sometimes muffles her performance a bit, but Maslany manages to shine through even in the weaker moments.

The expansion of the Hulk mythos is welcome, especially after the characters spent the past three phases on the backburner. The big winner here thanks to this spotlight isn't even Bruce, though; no, it's Emil Blonsky, AKA Abomination, who makes a glorious return as a major character asking Jen to help him get parole. He's just a really hilarious and cheerful guy, long past his villain days, and when he gets out he seems to genuinely be a changed man. Dude even becomes a self-help guru leading a class of other villains in redeeming themselves. It also helps that when he turns into his monster form, the effect is one of the better ones in the show.

The guest star characters are all a lot of fun. Bruce's appearance is a bit of a mess (which I'll get into below), but I don't think seeing Mark Ruffalo is a bad thing even at his worst. Wong is, of course, absolutely fantastic, and even Jen lampshades how much everyone loves the guy. But best of all is when Matt Murdock shows up in the penultimate episode, and gets to crack a few jokes, kick a few asses, and bang Jen like the true Chad that he is. How they managed to make such a cute, believable romance that you can't help but root for in a single episode is absolutely astounding, and considering the shit Jen and Matt go through on a regular basis it’s just so refreshing to see.

While she sadly ends up a bit underutilized, Jameela Jamil's take on She-Hulk archnemesis Titania is a lot of fun. Here, she's imagined as an over-the-top evil influencer (redundant, I know) who just goes out of her way to be a petty bitch to Jen for no good reason. The fact we never learn any backstory about her and the fact she remains as an unrepentant asshole throughout all her appearances makes her a hell of a lot of fun as a bad guy. I wouldn't call her one of the greats like Killmonger or High Evolutionary, but she's still a very enjoyable foe for the type of show this is.

I love how this show isn’t afraid to dig deep into the well of Marvel characters to throw in some obscure faces to spice things up. I think that’s one thing the shows have done consistently well, elevating lesser-known characters into the limelight, so it’s nice to see an entire episode revolve around Leap-Frog of all characters and for the Wrecking Crew to show up and get their shit wrecked. Blonsky’s little villain therapy session is a wealth of D-listers; how many people were aware Man-Bull and Porcupine were a thing before this, let alone that Saracen is a combination of two villains with the same name (one of whom is actually a vampire)? The average person isn’t like me, trolling through wiki articles looking for obscure supervillains to obsess over, so it’s nice to see them get utilized even in a minor way. The only one I can see people bristling at a bit is Mr. Immortal, who is quite the opposite of his comic counterpart, but in my opinion he’s the Great Lake Avenger I’m least bothered that they changed; if it was Flatman, Big Bertha, or (God forbid) Squirrel Girl I’d probably be angrier. At any rate, this show is clearly not afraid to give wacky minor villains a role, so I’m half expecting season 2 to include Jen’s enemy Dr. Bob Doom, the more famous Doom’s distant relative who’s an envious evil dentist who wants to conquer the tri-state area.

The very best thing about this show, beyond cameos and weird characters and whatever else, is just the fact that it’s a very down-to-earth story about a woman who just wants a little bit of control and happiness in her life. Jen’s goals are relatable—she wants to do the job she loves, hang with her friends, and maybe find a nice guy who likes her for who she is—and a lot of the issues she faces as she tries to accomplish these are the sort of things women have to deal with on a regular basis. Obviously these things end up being filtered through a Hulk-green lens, but I’m sure a lot of women can relate to some of Jen’s struggles. Hell, the big bads of the show are incels who make revenge porn of Jen because they don’t think she’s worthy of her skills, and goad her into losing her cool so that she’ll be the one vilified and have her life ruined… It’s pretty obvious but effective, and it makes the moment where she forces the narrative to right itself to give her control in her own story a really great bit of wish-fulfillment.

THE BAD

The first episode is ROUGH. It’s a showcase of the poor special effects that made this show infamous, particularly the “She-Hulk clap” scene, though honestly her entire fight with Bruce is pretty bad. The way she gets her powers is ridiculously contrived and goofy, especially compared to her more lowkey origin in the comics (they really couldn’t have just done a blood transfusion here?). The worst moment of it all, though, is when Jen mansplains controlling your anger to Bruce. You know, the fucking Hulk?

This does end up highlighting a big issue with the Hulk, though it’s not really the show’s fault: Hulk is the major hero the MCU has dropped the ball on the most. A lot of this has to do with the issue with the film rights, as Marvel can’t use him in solo films, but the fact that after Joss Whedon’s movies all of Bruce’s character development happened offscreen between films and all his tragedy and complexity was dropped in favor of making him “big green wacky science guy” is unbelievably lame. It leads to a lot of the moments in this first episode falling flat, especially the ones where Bruce reminisces about Tony. And then there’s Bruce being surprised Jen doesn’t have a different personality as a Hulk, implying to me that Bruce’s tragic backstory and DID are written out (if he had DID he’d know Jen probably wouldn’t get it from a car accident). It’s a shame because Ruffalo is great as the character when he gets the chance to be, but it’s to the point now where I wasn’t sad that he was barely in the show. At least there’s hope for the future given the ending and upcoming movies set to feature Hulk and his supporting cast, so maybe we’ll finally be able to say someone who isn’t a massive creep really gets the Not-So-Jolly Green Giant.

Anyway... I really don't want to harp on the effects too much, but they are pretty subpar. Still, it was around the time these episodes were dropping that the stories of employee abuse and crunch time and all that were coming out, so it's not easy for me to be overly harsh considering the working conditions the VFX artists had to endure. I will say this: The jokes about how expensive the effects were in the final episode feel a little more tasteless in light of that.

Speaking of the final episode, while it's a funny use of a deus ex machina to resolve a ludicrous plotline and while I find it hilarious they lampoon how formulaic Marvel can get, She-Hulk smashing the fourth wall comes a bit out of left field because of how little they really build up her fourth wall-breaking abilities. Like yeah, she addresses the audience at the start and end of her episodes, but because of how episodes are paced it doesn't feel quite as fleshed-out as when Deadpool makes those same sorts of jokes in his movies. I wish they'd spent more time building up to that finale throughout the series, maybe have her do little things here and there beyond just talking to the viewers. It's not the biggest complaint in the world, and it wasn't a dealbreaker, but I didn't find the ending quite as satisfying as it could've been.

Ultimately though, the biggest flaw I think this show has is just that by its very nature it's not going to appeal to everyone. It's a goofy slice of life comedy, and in a franchise known for over-the-top action and adventures the story is very grounded and most of the action that shows up here sucks. It's not something that appeals to the average MCU fan, is what I'm saying, and while that doesn't make it inherently bad (we could use more variety in these films, after all) it does make this a bit of a hard sell.

THE UGLY

It is embarrassing I even have to address this, but unfortunately this was the biggest controversy the show had. You see, there is a post-credit scene where She-Hulk twerks with Megan Thee Stallion. This scene, which is maybe thirty seconds long (with only maybe ten of those being twerking) became the thing people would point at to call the show stupid and awful.

Let me be clear here: This joke is meant to be dumb and cringey. There is literally a shot of Jen’s boss walking away in embarrassment upon seeing this. And beyond that, Jen is a cringey person. That’s why she’s so likable in the first place! So it’s not even like this is out of character.

But ignoring all that, this is literally a post-credit scene, and getting mad at those is lamer than a twerking joke could ever hope to be. And if nothing else it’s still better than that shitty mid-credit scene in Multiverse of Madness.

IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?

I have no fucking clue what everyone’s problem with this show is.

Like, okay, I can’t deny this show isn’t for everyone. It has a rocky start, its special effects aren’t the best, and it is different from the rest of the MCU in that it’s just low-stakes slice of life comedy (at the insistence of the main character). The villains are mostly down-to-earth threats that happen to have powers, and the main focus is on comedy arising from the weird situations Jen gets into by being a lawyer who is also a Hulk. But with the amount of sheer vitriol this show’s existence managed to generate, you’d think this show killed someone’s grandma.

I genuinely think this has to be motivated by misogyny. Like this show is perfectly harmless, completely fine, average at worst, and yet it has the single worst score of anything in the MCU. You cannot look me in the eye and tell me this is worse than Thor 2 and 4, Iron Man 2,  or even Age of Ultron—and that’s just if we’re looking at the weaker MCU films and not the superhero genre as a whole. The fact that most (but not all) of the criticisms for this show are just really unfounded and show a lack of even the most cursory knowledge about the source material it draws from combined with the fact the final challenge of the show is overcoming a cabal of incel nerds furious at the mere existence of a female superhero (the sort of parody of real life toxicity in comic fandoms these so-called fans constantly bristle at) really just highlights how nerds won’t be beating the misogyny accusations any time soon. I guess women are only okay in Marvel properties when they’re supporting male leads or are viciously murdering scores of innocents so she can sacrifice a teenager to bring her Sims to life.

I’m not usually one to shout “Bigotry!” when something has a low score (the only time I can think of where I linked bigotry to poor reception was with Batman & Robin), but I just really can’t see any other way to comprehend this score being what it is. There is nothing this show does so poorly that it warrants a score anywhere in the 5s, and I’ve gotta believe the score is simply the result of review bombing. Then again, this superhero media dared to show things that women go through in real life via a superhero lens instead of shoehorning in Jesus imagery and having the conflict be resolved by Jen and Titania’s mommies having the same name, so I guess it can’t be that good.

But again, let me stress that disliking this show doesn’t inherently make someone misogynistic. This show has its issues, and even I feel like a lot of the story elements and effects could have been handled a lot better, so it’s not like I’m trying to convince you all this is some unsung masterpiece. If you don’t like this show for a reason that isn’t “I hate women superheroes,” that’s fine! What I’m trying to point out here is that this initial score reeks of malicious intent, and I honestly don’t feel people really gave this show a chance because of the initial low audience scores.

Realistically this show deserves something around 6.6 - 6.9. It’s a solid enough show, but there’s no denying that even in its genre it is an extremely niche entry that’s not going to have the same widespread appeal as some of the other shows. If you can get on board with the concept and can stomach a rough pilot and some weak visual effects, there’s a sweet, amusing story about a woman just trying to live her life here that’s honestly refreshing in a sea of “save the world” plots.

Of course, it could definitely improve with a second season. And the best way to do that? Make Spragg the Living Hill the big bad.

[twistmusings]

Hi Mod Azul! I was wondering if I could request some parenting headcanons for Riddle x Floyd? :) (With them probably adopting lmfao).

Kinda random, but this was actually sparked by your "Riddle's Conversation with his Mother" post lol. I also just wanted to compliment you on it and how well executed it was. I appreciated the honesty that went into it. How some people will always think they're in the right; they won't listen to you, nor will they change, and sometimes you just have to move away from that. (Also Riddle wanting to cry and go to Trey, but him also knowing that doing so will make things worse??? Him seeing Trey's family, their relationship helping him learn how his own mother's treatment of him isn't right????😭😭😭) Riddle's sorrow was palpable, but so was his determination and hope. The line about Riddle wanting to break the cycle particularly struck me! Ofc, this comes with Riddle growing apart from his mother and into a healthier lifestyle, along with a lot of reflection and struggle and! Betterment!! :) It got me wondering how would Riddle be like as a parent growing out of that kind of cycle? And on a much less serious/more random note, how Floyd's spontaneity may agitate or encourage that growth. I just thought it was interesting :) but i also totally understand if this request is too random/specific🤣🤣🤣 and being able to communicate my appreciation for Riddle's Conversation is enough:)

Thank you for everything you write :) i hope moving is going well!! take care Mod Azul <333

This message is so incredibly sweet. I am so genuinely touched that you liked my Riddle post because I know that the subject of dysfunctional families isn't always something fun to read about. And on top of it all you ask me for florid, which, if I may be biased for a moment, is one of my favorite ships. 😭

Floyd and Riddle as parents.

CW: Mentions of unhealthy parent-child relationship (Riddle and his mother), fluffy as fuck and long as fuck.

Note: This is set with both characters being in their late twenties.

I feel like becoming parents was a very long process for the two of them. Not in a bad way, actually, it was just very well thought out.

Floyd was the one to prompt the discussion: I've mentioned in the past how his biology gives him bad baby fever when he feels comfortable and safe in his life, so that was what prompted it. Riddle, on the other hand, had never really thought about kids. (Nor had he really thought about being in a relationship, either, but here he was, in a committed relationship with Floyd.)

To his credit, Floyd thought out his approach very carefully. He had only heard bits and pieces about Riddle's mother and had met her a grand total of once before the both of them were kicked out of her house. (Sometimes Floyd still remembers how worried he'd been that Riddle would be devastated only to look over and see him with a very smug and self satisfied smile on his face at her reaction. It turned out that Riddle had done it intentionally to piss her off so she'd kick him out 'to think about his choices' so he didn't have to deal with her for the holidays. Its disgustingly sappy, but he's pretty sure that was the day he well and truly fell head over heels for Riddle.) He knows that there's not a good history with his mom, so Floyd had thought it would be best to test the waters before actually asking outright if he wanted kids.

He tried to be subtle about it, just pointing out children when he saw them, hoping to get a temperature read on how Riddle felt about kids in general. "There's a whole line of kids dressed up for halloween! The one with a crown on reminds me of you." or "Hee hee, they have mini-sized boots for baby feet." Riddle would always acknowledge it but was surprisingly quiet about his thoughts.

"Oh, Riddle, look! There's a school trip!"

Riddle looks up from the case of desserts he's looking at in the direction that Floyd is watching, and sure enough a line of children is waddling by behind a guide and their teacher on a field trip, he assumed.

He glanced back to Floyd, wondering why he'd been mentioning baby stuff so much recently. Floyd had already told him before that he tended to get a little baby-crazy at times, and he was about to ask if it was starting up again when a slight movement caught his eye.

His eyes dropped to where he hand that wasn't holding his own had come to rest on Floyd's shirt. It flexed a little, fabric gripped between it, and when Riddle glanced at his face, he noticed that the others eyes were glittering and crinkled at the corners as he smiles.

He follows his gaze back to the group of children who are excitedly pointing at the sweets on display, and that's what makes it click.

"Floyd..." The other perks up, fingers still tangled in his shirt and smile still gracing his lips. "You want kids, don't you?"

It's not a question-- more of an accusation, really.

Floyd's face drops and he opens his mouth and makes a couple of aborted noises. Riddle recognizes it as what he does when he back-pedals-- what he does when he thinks he's done something that actually makes Riddle mad.

"I dunno what you're talkin' 'bout, goldfishie~." He settles on, trying for his normal sing-song tone but sounding a little strained. Riddle shakes his head with a sigh-- while he was glad that Floyd had learned to be a bit more tactful with showing his affection, sometimes he wished he would just drop it and be blunt with him.

Riddle squeezes the hand that's still linked with his own, falling silent and looking back toward the desert case. He sorted his thoughts in the time it took for the waitress to take the order for what he wanted.

As she took the tarts aside to put them in a box, Riddle squeezed Floyd's hand again.

"You could have just asked me outright, you know I wouldn't have been upset with you. So why didn't you?"

Floyd huffs, clearly not wanting to answer this line of inquiry. He tries to pull his hand away from Riddle's, trying to close himself off. Riddle doesn't let him, already familiar with this little trick of his.

"Jus' thought it might be a sensitive subject." Floyd sighs brusquely, and when Riddle looks over at him in confusion he realizes that Floyd is resolutely not looking in his direction. Instead he's watching the children playing again and rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Why would it be?"

"... Cause of your Ma."

Ah. No, that tracks. Truly, sometimes Floyd was too smart for his own good. He seemed to be better at reading Riddle's feelings before he was, sometimes.

"I see." Riddle hums. His mom... he hadn't really thought about that. In fairness, he'd never thought of kids in general, though, either. He doesn't think he would be like his mother but... well, he's never really been in a parental role either. Sometimes he does catch himself saying something and hearing her voice coming out in place of his own. It makes him shudder a little every time, but surely that was a sign that he was trying to be better, right?

It's not exactly a comfortable silence between them, for the next few minutes as they take a seat at the table in the bakery and pull out their desserts. Floyd has barely picked at his tart, Riddle notes, as he chews his own slowly and considers what's on his mind. He glances back over at the field trip group as they finish getting their own treats and go trotting out the door chipperly.

"...Do you think I'm like her?"

Floyd snaps to attention, looking at Riddle like he'd grown a second head.

"What? No." Floyd frowns, gesturing with his hands and glaring at him as if he's personally offended that Riddle would compare himself to his own mother. "No."

"You think so?"

"This is a joke, right, Riddle?" Riddle can't help the slight quirk of his lips at the use of his real name, it's how he knew Floyd was being serious. "She would be too busy counting the calories in that tart to think about anything else."

"Mhm. And she would be arguing with the waitress right now and demanding the nutritional information." Riddle places the last bite of his tart into his mouth to hide his smile.

"And then she would ask if they could substitute the flour for oats or sawdust or somethin' because it would be healthier."

"She would."

"And then she'd tell the whole school group off for letting those kids have that much sugar and how it's 'bad for their growing brains'."

"Yes. And she wouldn't try to do this." Riddle says, jabbing his fork toward Floyd's own tart, which Floyd preempts and slides it far enough across the table that it's out of his reach. Drat.

"Ooh, devious goldfishie~! Too slow." Floyd laughs, mood already improved noticeably, hand propping his head up against the table. Despite not letting him steal it, Floyd cuts a chunk off his own tart and holds it up for Riddle to eat. "You know, she would be screamin' her head off even seeing you eat one of these. Like food can be 'bad' even if it tastes good. You're nothin' like her."

Riddle accepts the offered bite, carefully tucking his hair behind his ear as he leans forward to eat it off the other's fork. He also, rather insistently, threads his fingers between Floyd's, trapping the fork between their hands. Floyd laughs at that, too.

"You make it hard to eat when you do that." Riddle merely smiles back impishly, daring Floyd to figure it out. He truly brings out the playful side of him.

He hums thoughtfully, wiping his mouth with his napkin politely as Floyd unwedges the fork from between their hands so he can eat with his opposite hand. Riddle watches him finally take a large bite of his tart, thumb absentmindedly stroking along the back of Floyd's thumb.

"You know what else she wouldn't do?"

"Mm?"

"She wouldn't be considering having a discussion with Floyd Leech when we get home about if he would like to have kids together." Riddle's nerves get the best of him, as he speaks it, so he hears rather than sees the fork clatter to the table and him start coughing as he inhales the mouthful of food.

"Floyd!?" Riddle panics, reaching for the other. As if sensing the rising panic, Floyd squeezes their linked fingers and manages to clear his throat.

"For real?" Floyd manages, voice rough and croaky but not matching the way his eyes look at him so adoringly. Riddle sighs, smiling fondly at Floyd and shaking his head.

"Yes, for real. I wouldn't tease you like that."

Floyd barely manages to push his tart out of the way of his body as he leans across the table with ease and loops his arms around Riddle with an emotive, disbelieving cry of 'goldfishie!'

Flustered at the public affection, Riddle pats his arm gently.

"Floyd, eat your tart before I eat it for you."

"You can have the tart, I've got all I need right here~."

"Disgusting." Riddle rolls his eyes, but that doesn't stop him from reaching over and stealing the tart.

It takes some discussion, but they do decide that they're ready. They're not married, but close enough given how long they've been together. (Besides, marriage isn't really all that common for people from the Coral Sea and Riddle has never really had much need for there to be a wedding to know that there is a commitment.) They're both financially stable and are in stable living conditions. They are in the best place mentally that they've ever been in their lives... if there was a time, they felt like the best time would be now.

As for the child... They actually have some pretty similar ideas of what they'd be looking for. They both agree that they would like to adopt a child that's a little older (think between 4-12ish) and if possible they would like to have a girl. Floyd wants a girl because he likes girls fashion and he wants to help her find her own sense of fashion and... Riddle because teenage boys are insufferable. He should know. He went to a school literally just for teenage boys.

It takes some talking, but they decide it's for the best to adopt a human. Despite their outward appearances, they are an interspecies couple, and Floyd knowing the difficulties with coming on land as a teen he explains that he just simply can't expect that of a child. The first time shifting from a merperson to a human is deeply uncomfortable and can sometimes even be painful depending on how big of an anatomy change you have to go through. (He distinctly remembers Azul's transformation being worse than his own.) It might get a bit easier after you have time to adjust for that, but he knows it would be terrifying and traumatic for someone anyone that young. Besides, they already live on land, so it works out to be easier than moving to the sea. (Riddle would be willing, but Floyd doesn't want to do that to him either. Besides, he likes shoes, damn it, he's not giving it up to go back to the sea.)

The caveat is, of course, that Floyd's own parents would have to transform to see their grandchild, but somehow Floyd imagines that they would be more than willing. (They already love Riddle even if they accidentally scare the shit out of him sometimes, so Floyd can only imagine how much they will want to spoil their child. And that isn't counting Jade or Azul or any of their other friends.)

The adoption process is slow, but not as slow as it could be because they are considered common law married by the Queendom of Roses.

Once they do eventually get through the adoption process and get their child home, Floyd and Riddle definitely have some things that they have to teach themselves pretty fast that don't come intuitively. Things like how to deal with a child's irrational fears, how to deal with tantrums, how to talk to them about hard questions, that sort of things.

Floyd is really good at the emotional side of things-- he's had years of dealing with his own fluctuating mood so he's good at teaching his kid ways to help talk themselves down when they're getting angry and how to talk themselves up when they're feeling low. He surprises Riddle with how unconditionally supportive he is (though Riddle supposes he's always been the same for him, so he shouldn't be too surprised). He's excellent at finding the right things to say when he needs to say them.

Riddle is great at the academic side of things. With him, it's not anything like his mother was-- his teaching is based on education and helping her to find what works for her. If she has a hard time learning something, he's great at finding a different method to teach her that clicks for her. He's also really good at teaching her how to be responsible and how to think critically and for herself. He never got that as a child, and he never wants her to enter a situation that she can't think through herself. God forbid she should ever feel that kind of pressure, but he thinks about his own overblot and feels like it's necessary for her to know how to step back and and look at a situation logically. He trusts Floyd to teach her how to handle the emotional part of it.

She loves them both, but she's definitely Floyd's little princess. Floyd adores her and spoils her rotten. Riddle has no objections because it's really sweet to watch how well he handles her and matches her energy.

She also loves uncle Jade and Azul. However, uncle Azul is never allowed to babysit because the last time he did, she tried to scam her schoolmates out of money.

Uncle Trey is fun too, and brings her a bunch of sugar and then bails. Riddle threatens to never let him over again, but Floyd had a lot of fun with it and ends up convincing Riddle to stop threatening to cut Trey out of his life over a goofy prank.

Probably the most difficult conversation that they have ever had to have with her was to explain why Grandma and Grandpa Leech visit but why grandma Rosehearts doesn't. Riddle and Floyd tackle that one together, Riddle explaining how his childhood was and Floyd stepping in to take over when he noticed Riddle was getting emotional. Of course there were questions about why and what kinds of things she did, and of course they didn't give her the nitty gritty, but it was enough for her to grasp it. She and Floyd wanted to snuggle Riddle that evening, so it ended up in Floyd and her falling asleep halfway through a movie, one on either side of Riddle.

[thenanamisimp]

What I've watched recently (spoiler warning - see bold titles)

Before the tragedy of Jujutsu Kaisen season 2 episode 18 happened I had actually started watching Great Pretender. However, after the loss of a specific someone (Gege when I catch you) and a few days of mourning and crying at tiktok edits and angsty tweets, I couldn't bring myself to keep watching Great Pretender (I will get to it once I feel capable enough to commit to another series in a few days probably). I have instead caught up with some weekly anime that I've been watching this season as well as (finally) started reading MXTX's The scum villain's self saving system. Since I haven't posted in a few days, I wanted to share my opinions on the media that has been keeping me sane since the tragic loss of my favourite character (considering the situation as well as the fact that my average state of sanity is still slightly insane - take this with a grain of salt).

Jujutsu Kaisen (season 2, episode 18) - every Thursday on CrunchyRoll

The production team went above and beyond and I thank them for it. Nanami looked so peaceful in his imagination and I highly appreciate that they extended the couple pages from the manga into 7 minutes of perfection (I'm in so much pain)

Jujutsu kaisen (season 2, episode 19) - every Thursday on CrunchyRoll

Episode 18 felt like a fever dream and so did this one. To keep it short and sweet again (aka I don't wanna cry again), the production team did incredible work once again.

The apothecary diaries (season 1, episodes 1 to 8) - every Saturday on CrunchyRoll

I really wanted something short and more light hearted to watch - hence I finally decided to start this series. In reality I was planning to binge it when it finished airing but I was impatient. The story of an apothecary knowledgeable about poisons and medicine who serves one of the emperor's concubines - with the added bonus of a handsome fool who is in love with her while she doesn't seem to be interested at all! (Jinshi is so madly and hopelessly in love with Maomao it makes me die laughing every time she cringes at his flirting but also I LOVE HIM). THE ANIMATION AND COLOURS of this anime are incredible, there is literally no reason for anyone to not like this show. Absolutely watch this if you have even the slightest hunch you'd enjoy it

Spy x Family (season 2, episode 8) - every Saturday on CrunchyRoll

As a lover of season 1, I've been very excited for season 2. Up until episode 5 of season 2, I couldn't see what the plan with this season was but after the start of the cruise arc (I'm afraid to google the actual name of the arc - spoilers haunt me) my faith has been restored. We're back to exiting ventures with the Forger family, this time more focused on Yor's assassin adventures. Even more so, this episode was extra incredible as we got to see Yor in real action, fighting a storm of other assassins looking to kill the family she has been assigned to guard and looking hot while doing it. Spy x Family is truly an incredible shounen.

Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions (season 1, episode 9) - every Monday on CrunchyRoll

I started this anime on release day and I started it for Ron. And I stayed for Ron. And mysteries (I do love me a good detective story). Overall, this anime is a good way to take a break from your daily routine by watching a mystery being solved in a comedic way while slowly also unfolding the bigger mystery of why the renowned Kamonohashi Ron stopped sleuthing. This week's episode finally gave us a good hint to his past! Honestly I wish more people were talking about this anime this season, it's so underrated.

And finally! I've been reading The Scum Villain's Self Saving System (Chinese name: Ren Zha Fanpai Zijiu Xitong), Mo Xiang Tong Xiu's first novel series. I've read both Heaven Official's Blessing (Chinese name: Tian Guan Ci Fu) and The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Chinese name: Mo Dao Zu Shi) and every time she impresses me with her writing skills. While I really want to share my opinions on her novels, I would like to make a dedicated post for MXTX's novels once I finish all of them, as I've actually not read most the extras for either TGCF or MDZS and I've not finished reading Svsss. I'm also very (im)patiently waiting for my copies of TGCF volumes 5-8 to get here in the mail in the next few days. I do have to say tho, Svsss has surprised me as I find it to be quite different from MDZS and TGCF, which is valid considering it was her first release.

Thank you for reading this (mostly) anime ramble! Enjoy watching :)

theNanamiSimp

[imtrying-butimpissed]

So this isn't something you necessarily need to post (although I'm fine if you do), this is just straight from me to you. Several years ago, when I was stumbling through self-guided fat positive ed recovery, you were the only person who I actively engaged with about it (even if that was mostly in my mind, through your posts).

Your posts about ed anarchy - expressing the same rawness and anger I also felt about my disorder, the recovery process, calling out the bullshit of the recovery industry, being frank and real and affirming - this was often what I clung to during that time. I still have screenshots saved of some of your words that I repeated to myself until my voice felt strong enough to speak my own.

Today, I decided to look up your blog because I'm in a period of relapse and I need some fuel to start building up the will and strength to commit to recovery again. I was so fucking happy to see that you're still on here and posting. I haven't looked at too many of your recent posts, but it looks like you might be in a similar place that I am, in this familiar place of trying to use the shitty, meager recovery options available in a system that is set up to fail us. It sucks, and I'm sorry if that's what you're dealing with right now.

I guess I just wanted to say that I'm here too, and as frustrated and sad as I am to find myself here again, seeing your username still posting about recovery, the realities of the struggle to recover, still being raw and real about it, is helping to rekindle the spirit in me to fight against this shit again. Thank you, for your posts in the past, for your posts now, for continuing to be real and raw and for sharing your words and voice for people like me to benefit from. I want to offer solidarity, and to let you know that I'm fighting beside you and with you, once again. You reminded me today that I'm not alone in this, so I wanted to make sure you know that you're not alone either.

I'm really glad my posts have helped you!!! To be honest, posting kept myself accountable too. I fucked up a little bit recently but I'm feeling good again and focused again.

It's tough finding body positive content that isn't A) complaining about the OTHER body types, or B) fetish content. Let fat people be fat. Let skinny people be skinny. Both exist in the world and lifting up one body type doesn't mean tearing down another. Everyone is a meat suit. We are all disgusting sacks of blood. 🤷

Finding the will to fight again is hard.. some days I just didn't give a shit. But being back in treatment reminded me how dumb it is and how I'd rather recover than be stuck doing treatment again because I keep myself sick. That shit sucked.

I liked being happy. So I wanna get back to that.

Thanks for reaching out, it means a lot. Please take care of yourself! We got this

[desroundtree]

When There Is No Quiet

Being diagnosed with ADHD late in life made a lot of things clear for me. I thought all the way back to my childhood and once I was able to isolate behaviors and things, I recognized patterns in my past that showed me I have had this for a long time. But even with all the research, all the knowledge, and all the medicine - when it’s hard, it’s hard. 

There are times when the chatter is lower than others. Where the noise in my head sits at a low hum just beneath the surface of every thought I have. Even when those thoughts are whispering they bubble up and make no space for the thoughts I want. While it can be a very personal struggle especially since mine deals mostly with executive dysfunction, it can also be a very public struggle when I search for words or lose my train of thought.  

It doesn’t stop there. If it effects my speech, then it effects my writing and I find that it is so much easier for me to lose phrases, direction and ideas. It happens more than I care to admit, even though I guess I already did. So when I struggle in that sphere, the executive dysfunction fun kicks in and I avoid the thing I have to do and am struggling with.

The kicker is I really want to do it, I just can’t. 

Those are the days when it’s loud and I feel helpless, and alone in a way that makes everything hard to explain. Having a marching band in your head doesn’t really make you feel like adding to that noise is necessary, at all. On days like this even outside noise bothers me and I feel like I can hear things even more keenly than normal, like the overstimulation has unlocked some sort of superhero power. Should I be thankful that I can hear a watch ticking across the room, or a loose piece in the fan of my bathroom? Probably not. 

Mostly, I find myself frustrated and stressed out which invites other health conditions to come and play. And these bitches play and love to overstay their welcome. Once I’m in this rabbit hole, the sadness kicks in and the self doubt dances to the same tune. 

Then I truly can’t do anything, even if I want to. 

So while I take medication, I can honestly say I have so many other health conditions that make everything worse - it always feels like nothing gets it right. Sometimes it’s right enough and sometimes it’s so wrong. 

I wonder what it’s like not to feel this way. For it to be quiet - no hum, no marching bands. To walk through the supermarket and get everything I need. To not need a million lists or post its on my refrigerator. To not avoid things I love to do simply because. To not avoid people because I feel like I can’t have a conversation or keep up. 

I wonder what it’s like for there to be no noise. For the thoughts to calm and dissipate, for the whisper to be comforting instead of all consuming. 

I wonder. 

When I can concentrate, I wonder.