#this is why i haven't written anything else these last few weeks

[waldau-archived]

hii! I've noticed that you haven't written anything for minghao yet (according to your master list) so I wanted to request something cozy and homey with him. like maybe cooking together or waking up together or something along those lines.. :)

hello anon! i was feeling extra sappy with minghao and this also happens to be my first work for him. thank you so much for requesting it, i hope you see this!

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

muse — xu minghao | 1,382 words | fluff

minghao blinks his eyes open to the sound of silence. there’s not much he can hear right out, except for the distant sound of cars going past. he lazes around for a few more moments before giving in and checking the time on his phone.

it’s just shy of six in the morning. he needs to be up and at the studio by nine, but he doesn’t feel like moving just yet. he puts his phone away and turns around to you, to watch you sleep.

the first time he’d ever done it was unfortunately a time you weren’t actually asleep, and he’d ended up staring at you for ten minutes before you woke up and apologized to him, saying that you couldn’t pretend to stay asleep without wanting to burst into laughter.

he still remembers how embarrassed he’d been by that, and how you made it up to him with kisses and multiples reassurances that it had been okay, that he could do it again, that it wasn’t a problem at all, you’d just been caught off-guard the very first time.

the thing is — minghao adores you. he’s in awe of you. to him, no one else on this planet even compares to how exquisite you are. he loves how like-minded the two of you are, how affectionate you’re with him, and how much you support him without even saying any words. of course, he loves going out on dates with you, seeing new places with you, seeing you match the outfits he wears, but this might just be his favourite sight in the world.

this being seeing you asleep on your side, facing him, a hand tucked under your head and the other holding his own. as an artist, he’s used to noticing the finer details about everything he sees, so when it comes to you, he could lose himself for hours noticing every single thing about you that makes him love you more.

minghao gently untangles his hand from your grasp, drawing his own blanket over you properly so that you don’t feel cold. he immediately feels the cold winter air hit his bare arms, and he winces as he gets used to it. he’s going to need to workout before he leaves, because there’s no time for it in the evening. not if he wants to finish work fast enough to come back to have dinner with you.

his fingers itch for a brush. it’s been a while since he’s painted something. the last thing he’d put on his canvas had been a rendition of a sunrise he’d been able to see with you a few weeks ago. it had been magical; the beautiful hues of orange and yellow blending with the shimmering brightness of the sea, contrasting the pale hue of the sky.

but nothing looked more beautiful than you sitting next to him, watching the sun rise and letting the water wash over your legs. he’d been tempted to paint you instead, right there, but you’d dragged him out on a monday morning for inspiration, despite the fact that both of you had work soon, and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

but he doesn’t really need inspiration. not when you’re his muse.

he runs his fingers across your face as gently as he can, glad that you’re still asleep. you’ve been having trouble sleeping recently, and he’s glad he’s part of why you’ve been sleeping better. he smiles when he notices two faint pillow creases stamped into your cheek, angry red lines that he hopes don’t hurt you at all. you somehow manage to look even more perfect with them.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at you before your eyes blink open slowly, and somehow his eyes are the first thing that yours find. he holds his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“hao?” you ask, voice croaky. “what time is it?”

minghao checks his phone again. “six thirty-seven. you still have twenty three more minutes to sleep, if you want.”

“mm,” you say, before you roll in closer and pull his arm to yourself. “wake me up at seven, then.” before he can say anything, you look up at him. “aren’t you supposed to leave early today?”

he nods. “do you want me to leave?”

you huff and tug at his arm to pull him closer to yourself, and he goes down willingly. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

“what did you mean, then?” he asks, pinching your nose softly.

you’re used to his teasing by now, so you just roll your eyes throw an arm around his waist. “did you sleep well, hao?”

“really well. you?”

“me too. but…how long were you staring at me this time?”

he feigns shock. “you could tell?”

“i can just…feel it, somehow,” you giggle. “won’t you tell me?”

“do you really want me to?”

“of course,” you say, eyes shining despite the layer of sleep clinging to them. minghao wishes he could spend more time with you like this. it’s almost like you’re forcing yourself to stay awake despite having some more time to sleep, just to talk to him. the thought warms his chest.

“maybe forty minutes? maybe more.”

there’s a grin on your face. “correct me if i’m wrong, but…i think you love me?”

he could just refute it, tease you a little, joke that you’re in too deep, but he can’t. there’s something about the early hours of the morning combined with the fact that he has the honour to wake up with you that makes his heart heavy. he’s lucky to even have this, especially with you.

“you’re right,” he says, voice rough, feeling his waterline sting suddenly. “i love you.”

the grin on your face disappears slowly. “hao? is everything okay?”

“of course it is, darling,” he says, bending down to kiss your forehead, brushing off some rogue strands of hair to kiss it properly, tucking it behind your ear so he can see your beautiful face better. “i love you. is that wrong?”

“no, silly,” you say, leaning up to cup his cheek in your palm. your hand is cold. maybe he should’ve warmed you up better. “you sound…sad. like there’s something eating at you.”

he closes his eyes and indulges himself in your touch, trying to work out his words, marvelling at how easily you can read him. “i…love you. you know that, right?”

“yeah. i love you, too. but…?”

“but,” he sighs, “i just…don’t have the right words to tell you how much i love you. i could say i love you a thousand times, but it wouldn’t be enough. i could kiss you a thousand times and it wouldn’t be enough. i could…i could ask you to marry me but nothing would be enough to tell you how thankful i am that you’re here with me. that you’re mine.”

silence, just the two of you in your bedroom, the sounds of life filtering in from outside the window.

your breath is shaky when you speak. “hao.” you drop your hand down to his arm. “i love you, too. you don’t…i don’t need any grand gestures from you. just…be with me. every single day. be mine forever. that’s it.”

“there’s nowhere else i want to be.”

“then that’s all i need.”

minghao presses a kiss to your head. he hopes it conveys everything he’s feeling right now. he’s about to say something more when your alarm goes off, and he really should get going if he doesn’t want to reach work late.

“see you in the evening?” you ask, hand catching his as he attempts to get to his feet. “maybe we can talk about…getting married? for real?”

minghao hasn’t even opened the curtains yet, and he feels like he’s standing in front of the sun again. he’s going to go to work, do well, come back home to you and hold you and hear about your day and eat with you. he’s going to surprise you with a painting of yourself, and he’s going to marry you. that’s the life he’s built for himself with you, and he loves it.

it’s all he needs to keep going, every single day.

“i can’t wait. i’ll be back before you know it, darling.”

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo

[lostbookmark]

Masterlist

MDNI 18+

Summary: After four years your sister's ex-boyfriend comes back into your life. Can you keep your entanglement a secret? Will the guilt eat you alive? 

Pairing:  Sisters ex Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader. 

Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt - comfort, romance. 

Warning: Explicit sex, fingering, Possessive Yoongi, swearing, reader is insecure, jealousy, punishment, unprotected sex, drinking, dirty talk, praising, very light degradation, spanking, spanking as punishment, teasing, hair pulling, arguments. Overuse of the name, baby.

A/N Edited by me aka I just throw commas in and see if my document corrects it. 

Yoongi is a bit…mean(ish) in this one. 

Yay!! I have the next 2 chapters written. Posting will be every Sunday US time. 

A little SMUT under the cut. 

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Kevin….Kris….Kihyun. No, none of those names sound right. He's good-looking and easy on the eyes, pretty smile but boring as hell. It's been a week since Yoongi took you home after the intense night you shared. You had stayed the night, and the next morning, you made up an excuse for needing to get home. You were scared to stay longer, afraid he would kick you out. He never questioned you or begged you to stay.  You exchanged numbers, but he never contacted you. You felt defeated.  You didn't tell anyone. Not Lisa or Jisoo. They would never let you live it down. Maybe this is why you let Lisa talk you into showing up at the “hot guy she ditched you for” house party. His name is Jimin. He seemed okay, you guess, but you haven't really gotten to know him. Her love interests never last long. Key…Kang…Kyle. That's it! You think his name is Kyle. 

“I just got back from Milan,” Kyle boasts. He is giving you what you think is probably his most charming smile. “I'll be heading to London again soon. Got quite a few photoshoots lined up. Mostly magazines, but I got a commercial too. I even have some contacts for Paris fashion week. I'm going to be a big deal.”

You really don't care, and you know that sounds mean. Why did Lisa introduce you to him? Did she really think you would hit it off with him?  Damn Lisa for making you come here. Damn Yoongi for not calling or texting you. Damn him for making the feel of his touch still linger on your skin.  Did you do something wrong? Were you just bad at sex. You know that you are pretty inexperienced, but it seemed like he enjoyed himself. He even cuddled you after he cleaned up with a warm washcloth. He was a pure gentleman. He even ran a hot shower for you as he made a quick snack afterward. You may or may not have tried to remember the brand of his shampoo. After some light bickering, he let you sleep on his side of the bed.  So, why didn't he call? Was there someone else? Oh my god! Were you the side piece? Of course, someone like Yoongi would have someone waiting for him.   

“Lisa said that you two have been friends since you were young. You work together too, right? ” Key…no Kyle said and you nod your head.

“Yeah, umm..” You started but were interrupted.  

“Baby,” you turn to see Yoongi staring daggers at you. How the hell did he know you were here? You're pretty sure that your jaw is on the floor right now. Yoongi places himself right behind you. He rests his chin against your shoulder and hands coming together around your stomach. “Who's your friend?” Why does he say it so calmly despite his glaring eyes? 

You freeze, your body rigid, and can't say anything.  One week, it's been one week, and now he's right here. You don't know what to say. Are you supposed to throw yourself at him after he ignores you? You wish you could throw a shitty comment his way, but you don't. It's not who you are. You wish you could tell him that since he isn't interested, maybe you will go home with Kyle. He looks at you and Kevin…no Kyle impatiently. His glare, thankfully, is fully on Kyle now, and you don't want it back on you. Nope, you are definitely not going to say that, even if it’s a lie. 

“Hey man, I'm Kai,” Kai that's his name! You knew it started with a k. “Didn't know she had a boyfriend. Lisa lied to me. Sorry about that.” Kai apologized and rushed out of there. Literally, he walked away as fast as his legs could carry him. You wish he would take you with him. Technically, you guess Lisa didn't lie. 

You turn in his arms to look at Yoongi fully. He looks pissed. You don't know if you should be scared, angry, or turned on. Is it possible to be all three? His eyes looked hard, unlike a week ago. It seems like such a long time ago. Maybe it was just a fever dream, and you made it all up. This Yoongi is different, and it is making you anxious. 

“We're leaving,” he breathes heavily in your ear. 

He takes your hand and threads your fingers through each other. He starts heading for the door, and you have no option but to follow him. You don't want to fight him and cause a scene. You try looking around for Lisa, hoping you spot her. You don't see her, but you do catch a glimpse of Kyle…Kai chatting up another girl. She seems thoroughly excited about it. Good for her. Looks like you probably dodged a bullet there. When you get through the door, you notice his car just down the street a little ways. Lisa picked you up earlier, and now you're kicking yourself for it. Yoogi practically rips the car door open and looks at you expectantly.  He holds the door with one hand while his other is on his hip. 

“What are you waiting for?” He asked. His stare is still cold. “Do you want me to go get Kai for you? Do you need him to help you?” 

“Wh…what? No, why would I…” you were cut off.  

“Get in, baby. I'm already mad, don't make me tell you again,” he told you.

With one last look back at the house, you get in the car. The same car and spot you sat in a week ago. God, a week ago, you were shivering with anticipation. Now, you were confused and honestly a little scared. Where was he, and why was he acting like you had done something wrong? You knew deep down that Yoongi would never do anything to hurt you. However, this is a side of him you have never seen. You didn’t see it years ago either when he was still with your sister. Even during their fights at the end of their relationship.  You even spent a lot of alone time with him back then, annoying him. He never snapped at you. When you couldn't figure out how to parallel park, he never snapped at you. When Lisa got you drunk at homecoming and he had to pick the two of you up, he never snapped at you. He never did anything like this. 

“Cold?” He asks you. You're rubbing your hands together. 

“A little,” you answer softly. You want him to grab your hands and warm them with his own. Instead he cranks the heat. 

The only sound in the car was from the radio and the heat blowing on your cold fingers. You don't know what the song playing is, but the deep bass is slow. It's almost comforting. You want to close your eyes and drift to sleep. Maybe if you go to sleep right now, you'll wake back up in his bed, and you can redo everything. Obviously, that's not possible. Your eyes slide over to him. He's concentrating on the road, and there's a small tick in his jaw. His hand had stayed on the steering wheel. His knuckles were white with his grip. He didn't touch you, not even once. You want to cry. What did you do? Why is he so mad? How did he find you there? What did you do?  The song on the speakers switched to something less moody, and your eyes moved to look out the passenger window. The sky is clear, the stars shine bright and twinkling in the late night sky. You didn't care for it.  Not even one little bit. 

That soft yellow glow of the bedroom was exactly the same. So were his sheets and pillows. The memories were completely vivid and fresh in your mind. The sound of your skin slapping together, his grunts and your gasps. The way he held you when you drifted off to sleep.  You look at Yoongi sitting on the corner of his bed staring at you. His elbows resting on his knees and his right knee bouncing slightly You can't tell what he is thinking. You stand next to a large desk in his room. You think he must use it for work. There's messy paper everywhere and pens scattered all around. You try to focus and see what's on the paper but can't make out the scribbles. Poems, maybe? Does he write? You can't remember if he ever mentioned wanting to write back then. Maybe you didn't pay close enough attention. 

“Look at me,” he snaps at you. Your eyes immediately obey his command. “What were you doing  there with Kai?” Yoongi spits his name out in disgust.  

“I…I..Lisa introduced us. We were just talking,” you said softly. “I don't know him.” 

“So, you were just going to go off and fuck someone you don't know?” He asked and you were taken back. He was basically snarling at you. 

“NO!” You cried out. “I wasn't.”  You were getting worked up. “Why do you care? I haven't even heard from you in a week.” You shocked yourself by actually saying that outloud. Shit. You can't take it back now. 

Yoongi didn't seem amused by your outburst. Cracking his neck, he stood up from the bed and stalked up to you. You wanted to take a step back, but that messy desk prevented you from doing so. Yoongi rests both his hands on the desk, caging you in. His breathing and the sound of your own heart beating in your ears ring loudly in your ears. He runs the tip of his nose against the shell of your ear. Goosebumps race down your arms. Your body betrays you, wanting you to give into him. 

“You know,” he whispers in your ear. “The phone works both ways, baby. Get on your knees.” 

You swallow thickly. You aren't exactly sure what he means. Right here on the floor? On the bed? You decide not to make him wait and drop to the floor right in front of him. Are you supposed to undo his pants? Is that what he wants? You have never given a blow job before. Maybe you can fake it and figure it out as you go. You’ve seen porn. Just don't bite him, and you'll be fine. Your hands reach up and start to undo his belt around his hips. Yoongi chuckles a humorless laugh as he swats your hands away.  Oh, that's not what he meant. Tears well in your eyes out of embarrassment. 

“On the bed. On your knees, ass up,”  he snickers at you. 

You stand up slowly and walk with your head down to the bed. You don't want him to see the unshed tears or your embarrassed face. You know it's red. Your knees hit his mattress, the sheets are still soft. You lean down onto your elbows as you look at him, and he shakes his head at you. God, you probably look like such an idiot for not knowing what to do.  Yoongi walks over to you and puts his hands on the back of your shoulders, and pushes you gently down. Your chest and the side of your face meet the bed. He turns your head gently to look at the other side of the room. There's nothing to see over there besides his closet.  You feel the dress that you're wearing starts to rise up. Yoongi next adjusts your hands. Making sure that your fingers are interlocked above your head. You feel him get closer to your face. His breath tickles your ear. 

“Are you okay?” He asks you.

“Yes,” you say meekly. 

“Good. Stop me anytime,” he tells you as he kisses below your ear. “You thought I was ignoring you? You think that’s why I didn't call you?” He asks, but you don't answer. You can feel him slip your dress completely up and over your ass as he stands behind you. “Yes or no, baby?” 

“Yes,” SMACK! As soon as you answer, he spanks you. It wasn't overly hard but just enough to sting. Your body goes rigid, and your eyes widen comically in surprise. Oh! You honestly were not expecting that.

You wait for him to say something, but you're just met with silence. You don't feel his presence near you. You strain your ears to try and listen for him. Did he leave the room?  

“Y..Yo..Yoongi?” you asked softly and he didn't respond.

Suddenly, there was a tick…tick..tick noise in the room.  Slowly, you turn your head, and you see him sitting at his desk. His shirt is off, hair beautifully messy,  pants undone, but nothing obscene showing. Tick…tick…tick. It's one of those music things, a metronome you think it's called. The pendulum swings back and forth again and again. Tick… tick…tick. Yoongi is watching you kneel on the bed while playing with it in his hands. He almost looks bored. 

“Turn back around,” he tells you slowly. You turn your head back around. Tick…tick…tick. “You know what i was thinking all week?” He asks you. “I thought I was a horrible person. Did I force you here? Did I make you do something you didn't want? You wanted out of here so bad the next morning I thought you were going to have a panic attack.” 

The chair groans a little bit. You can only assume that he got up. You can hear the clicking of his belt buckle as if he's walking to you. You anticipate his touch, but again, nothing. Tick…tick…tick.  The oscillating noise is putting you on edge. The sound of his belt tells you he's close. Your breath is starting to come out as pants as adrenaline starts to flow through you. Your interlaced fingers twitching. 

“I wanted to give you space. I see that was the wrong thing to do. Why didn't you get a hold of me, baby?” He asked. You still can't see him.  

“I didn't want to bother you,” you mumble. SMACK! SMACK! You press your hands together tightly and screw your eyes shut.  Tears blurred your vision as they started to fall. You sucked in a shuddering breath.

“You could never bother me. Instead of talking to me, you decided to ignore me to fuck around with Kai? How do you think that makes me feel?” His voice raises some. SMACK! His hand gently starts rubbing your reddened cheek. Soothing the stinging with his cool palm. You hear him take a deep breath.  “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say through tears. “I'm fine.” You really were. “I didn't…” 

“What?” Yoongi asks. His hand is still gently rubbing your reddened skin. 

“I thought you realized you made a mistake. I thought maybe I wasn't good enough for you. I'm not like my sister,” you hiccuped. You pressed your hands tightly together before he delivered the next smack. It never came. Tick…tick…tick.  

“Why would you compare yourself to her? Why didn't you say anything?” He asked. His hand stroked some hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The strands were wet from tears. 

“Have you met me,” you try to joke through tears. You highly doubt Yoongi thinks it's funny. Yoongi leaned over to look at your tear stained face. Bending down, he kissed the tears away. You close your eyes and welcome him. He's here. The soft, gentle Yoongi is here now. 

Yoongi moved again and stood behind you. He hooked his fingers into your underwear and slowly slid them down your legs. His fingertips tickled the outside of your thighs as they traveled down. He lifted your knees one at a time so he could completely remove them from your body. Then, nothing. Why does he keep disappearing on you? You were tempted to turn and look for him again. Tick…tick..tick. Suddenly, his tongue is on you. You close your eyes and sigh, escape your lips , and fingers tighten together.  You push your hips back against his face to get him closer. His tongue swirls magical circles against your bundle of nerves.  One week, and you realize how much you missed this. How starved for his touch you were. You should have made the first move. This all could have been avoided. He was right. You didn't think about how he felt.  You shouldn't have gotten in your own head. You always get in your own head. Yoongi pulls away. Disappointment floods through your body.  Disappointment doesn't last, though. You hear his belt rattling, and pants hit the ground. He roughly pulls your body to him in one smooth move. Your own clothed back to his naked front. He gently tangles his hand in your hair, pulling your head back. Just like that, gentle Yoongi is gone.  Dipping his head, he slants his mouth over yours. Tongue demanding entrance. You relax and press your tongue against his, tasting yourself on him.  Soon, he lets go of your lips and hands roughly yank your dress down to your waist. You thrust your hips back with an arch of your back. He's hard. 

“Still good?” He asks again, hands and slowly coming up to cup your naked breasts. His fingers tweak your nipple. It sends a jolt right down to your core. 

“Yes, Yoongi,” you reply somewhat breathlessly. 

Yoongi pushes you forward so you were down on the bed again. Chest flush with the bed, ass in the air. His hands grip your hips, bringing you back to him. You feel him run his cock up and down your wet folds. Dipping the head in and taking it back out. He does this several times and it's driving you mad. You try to swivel your hips but he completely backs off with an airy laugh. SMACK! He slaps your ass once more. Grabbing your hair again, he pulls you up   savagely against him. His arm crosses over your chest, hand on your shoulder. He's supporting your weight against him. You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder. Chest rising and falling with every pant of your breath. 

“I should have fucked you in front of him,” he hisses in your ear. “That way you wouldn't have to doubt me again. Everyone at that party would know your mine now. Kai….Lisa….Jimin.” 

 Yoongi's free hand cups your pussy, giving you teasing strokes. Teasing just like before. Fingers enter you shallowly just to pull back quickly. You look at him and you don't even have time to question him before he's answering you. 

“How do you think I found you tonight? We work together, baby. He likes talking about Lisa.” He explains with a chuckle. “Lisa… she likes to talk about setting her pretty little friend up with a date, but her friend is kind of shy. I took the chance that she was talking about you. Lucky me, huh,” Yoongi answers you as his fingers finally start pumping into you. Your wet, you thought maybe too, went given the situation. Your noises make it obvious how much you are enjoying this. “Too bad you're not available. Kai was pretty good-looking.” 

“Please, I'm sorry. I need you. Yoongi, please,” you beg him. Yoongi kisses your neck. Lightly sucking on your sweat slicked skin as his fingers pump into you faster. Marking you, making you his.

Yoongi lets his grip on you go. You fall to the bed and scramble to get back onto your knees in front of him. You lift your head and look over your shoulder at him. Trying to beg him with your eyes to do something…anything.  Tick…tick…tick. Yoongi finally grips your hips and pulls you back to him. Leaning over you, he places you exactly like he had you before. Chest flush with the bed, hands above your head. Rubbing your red marks with his hand, he deals one more blow before he sinks all the way into you. You sigh. He feels like home. 

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Tagged reader

@unicornbabylover

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

the last bit of us (prologue)

Plot: Tyler Owens hasn’t been home in a year. He’s survived all the storm chasing and motel living with his new partners as they try to save lives. But with all the damage they’ve taken from driving high beams first into monster storms, it’s time to pay the piper and bring the truck in for repairs. And the only person who can fix them is the best mechanical engineer he’s ever met. Eleanor Harding, his estranged wife.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Estranged Wife OC (Harding Daughter)

A/N: Ya'll, I wrote a book, graduated from my MFA, became an English Professor and haven't written anything in two months...thank you to glen powell for pulling me from my rut. I can always count on you.

prologue / one / two / three

______________________________________________________________

He knew he would have to go back eventually. The getup that had been built onto his Ram could only withstand so much. Kate’s death march straight into an EF5 had nearly stripped the hydraulic drills and their continued research to suffocate tornadoes had brought the welded exoskeleton frame to the brink of crumbled chicken wire. His truck looked worse for wear and the Wranglers had been bugging him for weeks about taking it in for repairs.

“Listen man,” Boone said on bright day at the beginning of June. He seemed to appear out of nowhere and clapped Tyler on the back. It made the man jump, nearly cracked his skull on the underside of the hood. “I know you don’t want to take a trip to get ole Betty fixed up.”

“Not Betty,” Tyler replies with a grunt, turning back to fill the wiper fluid.

“It’s time to go home man,” Boone continues on, “With all the chasin’ we’re doin’, we need new equipment anyways. The truck isn’t supped enough to deal with the constant damage…you know that. And with everything happening with--” Boone makes a face toward Kate with a heavy wink. Tyler’s tempted to knock some sense into the man.

She’s only a few yards away, looking to the skies for any signs of shifting clouds. She looks incredible, sunglasses sitting atop her head. Her hair is so golden under the hot Oklahoma sun, not even sticking to her neck as she stares up absentmindedly at the horizon.

“That’s what I’m sayin’. You ain’t even listening to me, are ya?” Boone’s voice cuts through the air.

He’s loud enough that Kate peers over her shoulder to see the commotion. She smiles at him, scrunching her nose. Incredible.

Boone’s hands collide with Tyler’s shoulder, knocking him forward a little in the tall grass. Tyler grunts as he tries to keep his footing.

“Knock that shit out, you’re gettin’ on my last nerve today,” Tyler says. He pushes him back firmly. A warning shot.

“You need to get that sorted,” Boone says. He starts walking backwards, away from Tyler and toward the RV where the rest of the Wranglers are. Tyler doesn’t miss the word considered leave Boone’s mouth as he turns away. Boone’s not a frowning man, not normally the one who gets heated over this and that so the tension in his words squeeze at Tyler’s chest in a way he isn’t prepared to deal with.

The chain of his necklace tucked safe and discreet under his white shirt starts to burn against his skin. He scratches away at it when Kate appears behind him. Why is everyone sneaking up on him today?

“He alright?”

A grin appears on Tyler’s face. Her voice is playful and it’s soothing to his ears. “Is he ever?” Tyler jokes, turning to the pretty woman he’s been working beside for the last few months.

She laughs and brushes some hair out of her face. He wants to do it for her. He wants to hold her face, kiss her. He never seems to find the right opportunity, find the right moment between all the motel rooms and 100-mile winds blowing through towns. He’s intimated by her wit, her drive to do more for the community. It reminds him of someone else. And that thought normally makes him a little nauseous. He thought that would go away by now.

“He seemed annoyed,” Kate says, crossing her arms to look up at him.

“He was,” Tyler says. He pulls the dirty rag from the back pocket of his Levi’s and wipes the dirt from his palms. “He thinks I should take the truck into the shop.” “Well, Betty does need a tune up.”

Tyler groans. “Why is everyone calling it that?”

“Cause only a woman could go into storms as mighty and come out with ease,” Kate smirks. Tyler scoffs, staring at her with admiration.

“Cute,” he says and turns back to the truck to look over any other repairs he could make himself. Kate leans over the side of the car, staring down at the engine caked in dust and debris. She tilts her head with curiosity, blinking up at him.

“Seriously though, why not take it in? We can take a week off, maybe get some solid sleep and a good shower for once. There’s a shop only a few miles away from the motel,” Kate says, pointing in the direction.

The man shakes his head, not even looking at her. “That wouldn’t work.”

Kate raises a brow. “How come?”

“It’s a custom truck,” Tyler says. “There’s only one shop that can do the repairs.”

“…Okay, so let’s take it to the shop then,” she tries again.

He swallows his words the second he hears Dexter calling out for them, the promise of another storm halting anymore conversation about the truck and it’s repairs. But that’s only until they load up the new barrels and peel toward a growing storm. Tyler’s harness buckle jams as he revs at full speed toward the sucker and then Boone calls out that one of the rockets doesn’t deploy. When they push through the wall of wind and debris to anchor down into the dirt, drills start to grind against what he can only imagine is a hard rock. The sound of shredding steel makes his jaw clench. The one thing that goes right is the barrels deploying into the sky and drying out the tornado, the sky painting itself blue as the funnel evaporates.

“Are you guys alright? Come in,” Javi’s voice crackles over the radio.

Thank you for reading! Want to be tagged? Click here :)

[sant-riley]

Uhhh brain wracking brain wracking-

Imagine S/O surprising Ghost with their strength by picking him up and perhaps spinning him around

They insist that he's as light as a feather. They're visibly struggling while holding him up

Thank you anon for the food, I haven't written anything in AGES I'm sorry if I'm rusty but fuck it we ball, gonna do these as bullet points!

Warnings; nothing I can think of! But as always, lmk!

(Literally me and Simon)

Trying and somewhat achieving in picking up Simon!

The first time you bring it up, asking if you can attempt it, Simon looks at you like you're fucking stupid.

He's a big dude, bigger than most and will almost always be the biggest person in the room, he's built like a fucking mountain.

You throwing him pretty eyes and begging for his permission isn't gonna change the fact that you're smaller than him, you'll hurt yourself, he knows you will, so he says no.

This does nothing to ward you off, only fueling you to want to work out and gain upper arm and body strength to prove him wrong out of spite.

He'll ask Soap where you've been in the last few weeks,, noticing your slight absence when training hours are over, nowhere to be found an hour or so afterwards.

Soap only chuckles and throws a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the gym where the creaks of the workout gear can be heard still.

"They're still workin' wouldn't tell me why though."

Simon makes his way towards the gym, leaning on the doorway as he sees you huff and puff as you do sets of bicep curls.

He can't help but a small smirk run under his mask, you're so committed to this. It's so stupid, but he can't deny it makes him happy.

No one can just pick the man up, takes Price, Gaz and Soap usually to keep up right and that's with his arms thrown around their shoulders.

He still doubts you'll be able to, but he's flattered. You're trying (asshole)

Simon creeps silently to you, waiting til you set down the weights before whispering out a "boo", his shit eating grin when you yelp and whirl around, wide eyes staring oh so prettily up at him.

"What the fuck! Why would you do that?" "It's funny." "It is fucking not." "Mmm, sure is."

He moves to ruffle your hair, ignoring your hand swatting at his own.

"Why are you here afterhours? You're missing chunks of your dinner." He knows why, he just wants to hear you admit it.

"Is it a crime to work out some more? To stay in top shape for our job?" The eyebrow he raises is catastrophic, immediately calling you the fuck out without any words.

"Okay, fine. I've been working out so I can prove to you I can pick you up."

At this point, he figures he can humor you, you've been trying so hard.

"Y'know what? Why the hell not, cmon, try and lift me."

"Are you fucking with me or-" "hurry up before I change my mind." "Aye Aye sir."

He stands in front of you, arms loosely at his side, head tilted to the right as he watches you get into form.

The key to lift with your legs, the strength in them far outweighing anything else, wrapping your arms across his stomach (a feeling of electricity jumps up his spine at your touch, he hopes you don't notice.)

You take a deep breath, nuzzling your head into his chest and try your fucking damndest to lift this behemoth of a man up and to your and Simon's surprise, you DO manage to lift him up, at least an inch of the ground before your legs buckle and you shakily place him down.

A whoop leaves your mouth, jumping up and down as you giggle about lifting Ghost, "I did it! You weren't that heavy at all!" Simon can literally see the sweat on your brow, but he just rumbles out a laugh and moves to plant a masked kiss on your temple, congratulating you on your win over him.

You run out into the base, no doubt going to tell the others about your feat.

He sighs a gross lovesick sigh, and moves to grab your gym bag from the bench and follow after you.

[bookish-bogwitch]

Thank you @roomwithanopenfire, @rimeswithpurple, @blackberrysummerblog, @nausikaaa, @larkral,

@hushed-chorus, @alexalexinii, @monbons, @whatevertheweather, @run-for-chamo-miles,

@artsyunderstudy, @mooncello, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @forabeatofadrum, and @aristocratic-otter for the tags over the past few weeks. I've had a crazy month (90% in crazy a good way) and too frazzled to come up with my own WIP posts, but have enjoyed reading yours and being included.

Here are six ten moody little sentence from Chapter 11 of Basil Pitch's Diary. (In case you missed it, I posted Ch. 10, September, a few weeks ago, then fled the country.) Baz is hanging in in Niall and Dev's room:

The last time I was here with Niall, he’d told me to hold out for more than ear scritches and the occasional carrot. Now we sat on his bed with a chessboard between us. “Baz,” Niall said quietly. “What are you doing?”  “Beating you.” I moved my queen to menace his remaining bishop. “With Snow, I mean.” Niall did that thing where the rook and king hop around, which shouldn’t be allowed, and I realized he’d won. Again. Somewhere, in a parallel universe, there is a me who grew up with someone to play against, demolishing a Niall who never went to math camp.

Below the cut: musing, a posting plan, and more tags.

Musing: I've actually written a ton since the last chapter even though I've been AWOL, but for a while no matter what I wrote, Baz felt out of character. I'd write a scene, like it, and then think "but why is he doing this?" Then I'd rewrite with Baz behaving completely differently, and that also felt OOC.

I worried that I'd somehow doomed myself with inconsistent characterization, but then I figured it out: Baz at this point is deeply inconsistent. He presents himself to the world one way, he tells the reader / himself that he's something else, and deep down he's a secret third thing. And sometimes his masks slip.

To some extent this is every unreliable narrator. But boyo has REALLY tangled himself up at this point. Something's gotta give. Until it does--which it will, soon--I have to be very clear in my mind, even if Baz isn't, about which Baz is driving the Baz at any given moment.

A lot of you can do that sort of thing intuitively. I can't. So I've been building this out (showing you just the headers b/c spoilers):

This might stultify some (most?) of you. For me, though, it's freeing. When my brain isn't trying to keep track of everything, my imagination can unfurl.

"'Everything'?" you ask. "This isn't that plotty a fic." It's not, but it's already 2.5x longer than anything else I've written, which means developing skills I haven't needed before. Anyway, my BPD chart and I are having fun. We're very happy together.

Posting Plan

I pushed myself to get Ch. 10 up before leaving home for three weeks, because Ch. 9 had ended on such a wretched note. While I was happy to have gotten it up, I didn't love the self-imposed time crunch (though betas @cutestkilla, @facewithoutheart, and @thewholelemon were fuckin' heroes). Feeling rushed had me stressing and second-guessing choices that were probably fine.

My plan now is to pause updates until I have at least a very rough first draft of the final chapter, then post it all at regular intervals. I know a longish pause means some folks who'd been reading along will wait until it's complete, if they return at all. To those folks--sorry, and I get it, and thank you for reading in the first place, and I love you.

Tags and shy waves to @brendughh  @beastmonstertitan  @carryonsimoncarryonbaz  @carryonmylovelies  @creepyspice

@comesitintheclover @cows4247 @confused-bi-queer @artsyunderstudy@chen-chen-chen-again-chen

@chronicallyhomoerotic @drowninginships @dragoneggos @excalisbury @emeryhall

@erzbethluna @ebbpettier @fight-surrender @fatalfangirl @gay-at-ikea

@fiend-for-culture @forabeatofadrum @foolofabookwyrm-activated @arthurkko @j-nipper-95

@gekkoinapeartree @goblindad-emoshit @henreyettah @hertragedyconnoisseur @hushed-chorus

@icarus-n-flames @ineffable-grimm-pitch @ic3-que3n @ionlydrinkhotwater @iamamythologicalcreature

 @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @shrekgogurt @im-gettingby @youarenevertooold

@monbons @mooncello @raenestee @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @messofthejess

[vinnsley]

omg.. so ummm i was thinking.. have u seen norton in the new story? :3 and yk how he kinda like.. didn’t say a word to Alice.. I was wondering if u can write a fic.. where norton has a s/o.. :3 in the game and only talks to them.. and everyone is just like “wtf”.. :3

ORIGINAL: chuckles evilly. LOOK NO FURTHER DEAR ANON!!! (i deleted idv awhile ago. Youtube, my friend... :3)

UPDATED: Yes. I redownloaded IDV a while ago and finished the new story quests and unfortunatly by the time i am writing this, i don't remember everything clearly, so if this has any information wrong, i apologize 😭 (lately i haven't been playing either (by lately i mean months))

Edit 2: i realized that the most popular thing ive written is exactly abt norton.. and its smut. ermmmm😓

[----------]

-At first, you had 0 idea what to expect. Your boyfriend got sent a letter inviting them to a mysterious manor and he had to go alone. You were worried for him, considering the events of his past, but you let him on his way.

-It only took a few weeks for you to recieve a letter similar to what Norton recieved — from the same manor. It mostly contained that you are invited to the manor for reasons the writer rather not disclose trough a letter.

-Considering this was the same letter that made Norton leave, you immedieatly grabbed your suitcase and started to pack a few clothing items you deemed fit.

-The ride towards the manner was long —making you nervous by every second that passed. Would you see Norton again? Did something happen to him? What is it that this mysterious person wanted to talk with you about? Aswell as with a few others who would be present?

-When you finally arrived infront of the manor, you took a deep breath. Not too sure if you were ready to hear or see what was going on inside said manor. You walked up to the door and knocked, waiting for a few seconds (Which felt like hours in your point of view) and the door opened.

-A butler opened the door. Not saying anything aside your name as a question. Wanting to confirm it was actually you.

-You nod and give the old-looking man your invite, to which he nodded and let you inside. A maid bowing infront of you slightly as a greeting, before saying that she'll be your guide, and that you were free to ask questions whenever you wanted.

-You felt like you wanted to burst into words, you had so many questions. But anxiety has sewn your mouth shut, unable to mutter a single word besides an affirmation to the maid and following her to your temporary residence.

-The tour tooj atleast 1,5 hours in your opinion. The whole manor was... giant, in your words. You asked questions here and there to the maid, to which she either responded... or not. Which made your gut feel weird, but you shrugged it off.

-You already met a few people already. Like Mr. Kreiburg...But you wouldn't actually call it a meeting. As you reached out your hand and tried to introduce yourself, he only picked up his cane and moved your hand away from him before walking past you, his face only being... sour. Quite the asshole, you thought.

-Ms. Plinius, the entomologist you saw outside the small garden of the manor. For being such a big house, the garden was for sure small to your standards. But Ms. Plinius atleast didn't... shrug you off first chance she got. She simply introduced her and went back to examining... or atleast that's what you thought she was doing with the bees.

-You also met Orpheus. He was nice. He actually conversed with you for a bit. You found out that he was a writer of some kind, and that he's mostly at the manor because of this.

-You also met Ms. DeRoss. Or how she preferred — Alice. She was also nice. She conversed with you for a bit aswell. She was a journalist, that's what you found out about her.

-As you continued to walk around the manor, trying to see if there was anyone else, you had no luck. When you peeked inside the last room and you didn’t see anyone, you sighed.

-Wasn't Norton invited here? Why isn't he here then? You were confused. And mostly scared for your lover.

-You decided to shrug it off. You were already tired from all that travelling you did during the day, the meetings —Good or bad—, the tour.

-You ate dinner with the invited people who... participated in the dinner, because Mr. Kreiburg... was missing. As it seemed like it was a common occurance for him to not attend, he usually asked his food to be brough to his room appearently.

-After you were done, you said your good night's to everyone and went to your room. Your luggage being next to the small space next to the bed, as you picked it up and placed it on the table, rummaging trough it for your nightly wear.

-When you found it, you tried to change as quickly as possible to be able to get more rest that your body and consciousness craved at this point.

-Tomorrow morning, you were woken up by a sharp knock on your door. The person on the other side for sure knew how to wake someone up... You called out a 'come in' in a sleepy tone stretching as your body popped here and there from the movement.

-The butler from before came in. He informed you that breakfast would be starting soon, and that you should probably gather yourself together for the day. You yawned and nodded in response. The butler soon walked out when he saw your nod — giving you your privacy.

-You stood up, going to the bathroom to wash your face. After that, you went to your luggage still on the table, opened, and picked out your next outfit for the day.

-You opened the door and walked out, closing it behind you as you saw someone with black hair and a... hat of some kind walk down the stairs? It was... a green or grey. You couldn't really tell from how fast they rushed down the stairs.

-You shrugged it off, walking downstairs in your own pace and walking to the dining table.

-When you arrived, you looked around. Alice, Ms. Plinius, Orpheus... and Norton?

-So he was actually here! Your heart felt like it could burst open from happiness any second now. You wanted to scream in happiness, but no. You couldn't. You were with people who were technically still strangers.

-Norton did notice and recognize you too. His reaction simply being his eyes widening than narrowing to his usual look. He always had a better poker face than you — that you both knew.

-But for some reason, there was no space set in the table next to Norton... So you simply put your fingers on the satin that was under the plate, and pulled it infront of the chair next to Norton, sitting down beside him.

-You took your food and while you did, everyone besides Norton stared at you weirdly for a bit. Why did you... sit next to Norton? They barely managed to get his name out of him (which was actually given by the butler) but you sit next to him? The most anti-social person besides Kreiburg?

-They were confused to say the least. But... hey. You do you. They guess.

-While everyone was eating, talking, Alice noticed that Norton was... actually talking to you? Sure, she couldn't hear what you two were conversing about, but Norton was definitely going on and on about something.

-Did you two know eachother? Probably. No. Most definitely. Norton hasn't spoken a single word to anyone, yet he is actively talking to you. You two definitely knew eachother from somewhere.

-Alice looked over to Orpheus as he was talking to Ms. Plinius, slightly nudging him with her elbow and she signalled to the pair of you with her eyes.

-Orpheus kept talking to Ms. Plinius, making an act of as if they weren't watching the two of you, while he glanced at the both of you from time to time. Nobody could tell, but Ms. Plinius took the hint aswell and noticed the same thing as Orpheus and Alice.

-It was as if the two of you were friendly with eachother. Maybe even more.

-But they couldn't do much at the moment... they might ask you two... or more specifically you of your relationship with him later.

[----------]

ACK. im sorry if i messed up anything... and im so uncertain if melly was actually referred to as Ms. Or Mrs. google didnt give me any solid answers either so... excuse that if its wrong pls🤕🙏

[melanieph321]

Okay hear me out: what about ruben’s girlfriend losing her memory temporarily, and ruben literally leaves everything to take care of her. He asks some time away from football to help her on her recovery journey, and he would make her one of his usual breakfasts, full of nutrients and he would help her exercice slowly and would help her remember little things at a time, and he would just do everything for her well being 🥺

THIS IS THE ONE, MY 100TH RUBEN FIC! 🥳🥳❤️❤️❤️🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳❤️🥳❤️🥳❤️🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

Love the many requests I've received, I have stories for days now 😅. But in honor of my 100th Ruben Dias fic I have written a 8 part series based on this request. Hope you enjoy!

Ruben Dias x Reader - Remember You and Me Part 1/8

Enjoy!

You slowly opened your eyes, groggily taking in your surroundings. You were in a hospital room, surrounded by your family and a man you had never seen before. The man, who you assumed was a nurse, was holding your hand and smiling at you.

"Hello, honey. Welcome back" your mother said warmly.

"What's going on." You grunted. The pain hit you all at once as you tried to sit up.

"What hurts the most?" Your mother was quick to pat you down, not wanting you to over extend yourself.

"My neck." You said and reached up to touch the brace that covered your throat.

"The doctors say you have to wear it for a couple of weeks. You were in a terrible car accident that almost left you paralyzied head down."

"What?" You tried to sit up again but squirmed as the pain hit.

"Careful." Said the male nurse, still holding your hand in his. "I know this isn't easy for you to hear Y/N," He said. "but the truth is that you've been in a coma for the last four days. You've had multiple injuries on your spine, ribs and if it wasn't for the doctors deciding to put you in a sedative state your brain would still be swelling."

Your brain swelled with all the information you were given. "I want to go home." You said. You hated the smell of hospitals and always have.

"I know honey, I know." Your mom stroked your head. "But I'm afraid it won't be that easy."

"Why not?" You looked around the room, meeting the faces of your family. They all carried the same expression of sadness and concern for you.

"What's going on?" You said through the tubes plugged in your nose.

"Honey..." Your mother tried to break it to you easily. "You don't live with us anymore, you haven't done so in the past five years."

"Um, what?"

"Honey, what is your last memory? How old do you think you are?"

"Mom what are you...I'm nineteen years old and I live with you, dad and Eddie. Why are you asking me these stupid questions? Why am I in the hospital, what happened to me?"

You were getting quite worked up, however your mother was patient. "Y/N, the doctors suspect a temporary memory loss as a result of your severe head trauma. You are not nineteen years old but twenty four years old. And you don't live with your father and I, you live in England with your husband, Ruben."

Your mother pointed to the nurse standing next to your bed, his hand still intertwined with yours.

"My what?" Your eyes widened in confusion. Husband? You had no memory of getting married. In fact, you had no memory of anything that had happened since you were a teenager. "What do you mean?" You asked, voice shaking. "I don't remember getting married."

The nurse smile faltered for a moment, but then he took a deep breath and explained. "You were in a terrible car accident a few days ago. And in a coma ever since this morning, when you finally woke up, not remembering anything. We've been trying to help you remember, but it's been a slow process."

Your mind was reeling. You had no memory of your childhood, your friends, your job, or anything else. It was as if your entire life had been erased.

"Mommy." You cried, letting go of the nurse/your husband's hand. "I want to go home, take me home right now."

"I know sweetie, I know." She brought you in for a hug, a tight and safe mommy hug. "The doctors say that your memory loss is only temporary, that it will come to you naturally as you go on with your daily life."

"Okay, so I'm free to leave the hospital then?"

"Yes, the sooner the better. However you have to leave with Ruben not us."

"What? I can't go live with him, he's a stranger I don't even know him."

The man's eyes widened in suprise, his expression unreadable.

"Yes, you do honey." Your mother was determined. "Ruben is your husband and you must stay with him. We will be here through your recovery, every step of the way. But for your memory to return to you naturally you must go back to living your old life, the life you spent together with Ruben, your husband."

[riddles-n-games]

To Feel, To Want

Pairing: Avery and Jameson Summary: Another rewrite of Ch. 15 from THL but from the earlier scene that takes place in the studio before they head up to the roof. Length: Short Story Type: Rewrite

Tag List: @hathorneheiress, @whatsamongus, @averyiconthequeen, @xoxo-lenah, @charsoamerican, @thecircularlibrary

A/N: Hello! Hope you haven't been waiting too long but here is my newest rewrite. I do hope you enjoy it. It's my last one from my oldest standing drafts which means I'll take a break again so I can focus on my more original written pieces.

══════♟•°♛°•♟ ══════♜♚♜══════♟•°♛°•♟ ═══════

    As if that thought had beckoned him toward me, Jameson came closer. “Let’s call off the bet,” he said softly.

    I whipped my head up to look at him. I searched for a tell on his face, something to let me know what angle he was playing.

    “This is big, Heiress.” If he’d been anyone else, his voice might have sounded gentle—but the Jameson Hawthorne I knew wasn’t gentle. “Big enough that neither of us needs extra motivation now. Neither of us is going to solve this alone.”

There was something undeniable about the way he said the word us, but I resisted the pull of it. “I’m at the center of this.” It would have been so easy to let myself get sucked back in. To let myself feel like we really were a team. “You need me.”

    That was what this was about. The gentle voice. Us.

    “And you don’t need anyone?” Jameson stepped forward. Despite every warning screeching in the back of my brain, when he reached out to touch me, I didn’t pull back.

    The past twelve hours had turned my entire world upside down. I needed… something. It didn’t have to mean anything. There didn’t have to be feelings involved. “Fine,” I said, my voice rough in my throat. “Let’s call off the bet.”

    I expected him to kiss me then—to take advantage of my moment of weakness, to push me back against the wall and wait for my head to angle up toward his, wait for a yes. He looked like he wanted to. I wanted it. 

    We were at a standstill and for once in my life, I didn’t know whose turn it was. His move or mine? Is this what it felt like when you were facing a wall, knowing there’s a way around it and the door is next to you but you chose to stare at the wall instead? 

    I stared at him, feeling almost helpless, glued to the spot. My eyes were stuck on his. 

    Your move or mine? The question hung in the air and I wanted an answer; demanded it. Needed and craved it all the same.

    I was desperate to feel; his lips on mine, his arms around me, just something. Something. Anything to distract me from the swell of emotions rising in me, threatening to swallow me whole. I’ve had bad days and dark weeks and I survived, so why, why did this feel like my sinking point? Like I wasn’t going to come back up for air and drown instead?

    But I knew; I wasn’t naive enough not to. My entire existence up until this moment felt like a lie; like I was the one who told it when I was actually the result of it because someone else instigated it. 

    Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and even though I hated to look like such a mess in front of anyone, I knew it wasn’t sadness or grief making me this way. Just frustration. 

    I had plenty of it in storage from the build-up of the last few weeks and now, it was finally looking for an out. The anger would catch up to me later but right now, that wasn’t the case.  

    Something in me right now was falling apart and I just wanted that part of my mind to quiet down, to forget for a moment, to let myself go numb. I wanted to let go and still cling to something at the same time but didn’t know which I wanted more, I just knew if he gave me what I wanted it would stop hurting. 

    But, if my role to play in this Hawthorne mystery was the glass ballerina then this would be the one time I’d let the shards of glass dig into my palms. I would let only one Hawthorne experience me like this once, so long as Jameson forgot about it later on, even if that was an unrealistic reverie. 

    “-very? Heiress.” He pulled me out of the spiraling thoughts and I blinked as he came into focus. His face was concerned and his hands were hovering around my wrists. Before I could grasp what I was doing, I grabbed his forearms instinctively and held as tight as possible. He didn’t even flinch. “Heiress, talk to me.”

     It was his gentle tone that undid me. The tears I’ve barely held back before were streaming freely down my cheeks. My hands were trembling uncontrollably and in trying to stop the shaking, I gripped his arms harder. I was too out of it to even formulate a proper sentence. “Please,” I rasped. Please make this stop. Please don’t let every other clue be a life changing revelation. Please tell me not everyone is out to get me or wants me to die. Please tell me it gets better. Please kiss me. Please hold me. Please tell me some part of you actually cares. Please. 

    Jameson slowly brought his hands up and cupped my cheeks. His thumbs gently wiped away the fresh set of tears but when he tried to clear away the tear tracks with his sleeve, I couldn’t hold myself back. I sprung up on tiptoe and closed the short distance between us, practically colliding into him when I pressed my lips to his. I savored it, desperate to feel that rush of adrenaline like when we had our first kiss. But I didn’t, all I could feel instead was my increasing heart rate as he didn’t reciprocate. 

    He broke away, shaking his head. Jameson gave me a lopsided smile but it was small and sad, lacking the usual mischievousness. “You have to tell me what you want.” I blinked. What is your angle here, Jameson Hawthorne? 

    I didn’t reply and tried to kiss him again, grabbing his loosened collar to pull him down towards me but he relented. Jameson deliberately pulled his chin up and the more I struggled, the more his head went back. “Use your words.” I didn’t. 

    Unfortunately, I did have to stop for a moment to catch my breath which he took to mean as an impasse and moved one of his hands from my jaw, bringing it to the back of my head. “Just tell me what you need, Avery. Easy as that.” He twirled some strands of my hair around his finger as he said that. Then he released it and did it again. I glared at him while he simply arched a brow. He used my name. Now you’re just playing dirty. Clearly, if I was going to get what I wanted, I was going to have to do it his way, at least, that’s what he thought. 

    With one final attempt, I fiddled with the fabric of his collar as if considering what he said for a good few seconds before cupping the back of his neck, applying as much force as possible to make him lean down. He just smiled and moved out of reach again right as he plucked my hand, repositioning it in his and placing a kiss on each of my fingers. At this point I was just getting angry. 

    He didn’t react to my annoyance but leaned down and kissed my cheek, murmuring when he pulled back, “Heiress, trust me, I know what you want. I’m not doing this to make fun. But you’re not me. I need you to say it out loud. You’re not in a good place right now and I don’t want you to regret this later.” Surprisingly, Jameson looked very serious but his eyes were sincere; he meant it. 

    I huffed. He was right; I didn’t take things like this lightly and it would affect me in a way that it wouldn’t him. And as much as he’d shown a bit of maturity in the weeks since we met, he was still Jameson. Flirty, tricky, and emotionally unavailable. But then there were the moments like this which left my mind spinning again. He really was an enigma.

    I held his gaze a little longer then broke away, finding the wall suddenly more interesting. But I still felt his eyes on me, lingering, the question louder now in the silence than it had been when he asked it out loud. Sighing, I looked back at him, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed like the night at Wayback Cottage when he comforted, kissed, and scorned me all in the span of ten minutes. Quietly, I muttered, “I want you to kiss me.” 

    Jameson obliged and leaned down, tilting my head up as he softly and slowly pressed his lips to mine. So maybe he did know how to kiss a girl tentatively and gently. He just needed the motivation for it. But he knew exactly what I needed. Just like last time. My eyes closed and I leaned into him. He was firm and solid and warm. There was also the faint scent of his cologne but also a distinct smell that I just associated with. It surrounded me and all I could think was, Safe. I felt safe. 

   He broke away and gave me space to catch my breath but I was pulling him back down as I wrapped my arm around his neck with the other hand still entwined with his. I felt him smile against my lips and he shifted us, propping me up against the wall but never breaking the kiss. It was longer but still sweet. 

    When we parted, me silently panting and him only the slightest bit out of breath, he whispered, “You’re going to be okay, Heiress. We’re going to do this together.” 

    I breathed in deeply and repeated him. “I’m going to be okay. I’m not going to do this alone.” 

    “Damn straight. You’re better than okay. You’re Avery Grambs.” I rolled my eyes to which he chuckled. “Do you feel better now?” I nodded, wondering why he was whispering until I remembered Eli was in the room with us and I wanted to peek over Jameson’s shoulder but I couldn’t with how close he was to me. So that’s why he turned us. I was boxed in between Jameson and the wall, hidden from prying eyes although I’m sure my bodyguard wasn’t keen on watching us kiss. My face flamed at the thought. 

    My eyes drifted back to Jameson’s face and the playful smirk was back. “Embarrassed now, Heiress?” I rolled my eyes. 

    “Don’t start.” 

    “Oh, I’m not, just finishing what you began.” I cocked an eyebrow at him. He chuckled softly and pecked my lips once more but not before I grazed his bottom lip. “So feisty.” I snorted.

    His hand went back to my hair and he combed through the tangles, treading softly to the ends. 

We grew quiet and for some time we just stayed that way, enjoying each other’s company. I could get used to this, I thought but then waved it away. This moment was great but soon, we’d go back to the usual, whatever that was. I didn’t want to label it. But with the way he was looking at me right then, a soft look in his eyes and a little smile, I could pretend it was more.

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A/N: Hey, you made it to the end again. Congrats, you're a real trooper. I will be attempting to do a few short drabbles (much shorter than this) before I restart writing the other WIPs which I can't wait to share with you all. Reminder, as per my last fic, I announced that I would be starting a tag list and as you can see here I made good on that promise. If you're new and want me to tag you, just comment below. Catch you in the next game!

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

And they were roommates {T.M}

A/n: For some strange ass reason I thought I had written for Mitsuya before, but apparently, I haven't. Once again, requests are open, so feel free to check my pinned and then request whatever you want.

Pairing: uni student!Mitsuya x fem! uni student!reader

Genre: fluff

Tw: none as far as I am aware

Hakkai's questions were endless. But that wasn't the problem. Hakkai, Draken, and everyone else, of course deserved a few answers here and there, but... did he have to answer them right now?

Mitsuya took a deep deep breath, trying to keep himself as calm as he usually was. "May I ask..." He exhaled as slowly as he had inhaled. "Why on earth are you all standing in front of my apartment at 9 am on a Saturday morning?"

"It's been a week since you've moved here and you haven't invited us yet." Draken's smile, though extremely forced, only seemed to widen.

"That's a bit rude Mitsuya." Yuzuha walked passed him and entered the apartment. Mitsuya could do nothing but watch as the young woman took a look around the room before nodding to the rest.

In a matter of seconds the two couches in the living room were full with no space whatsoever for him.

"So where's your roommate?" Hakkai asked.

"In her room... sleeping. I would appreciate it if you could tone it down."

Mitsuya was in a loss for words. He placed five glasses of water on the wooden coffee table between the couches and sighed.

"Why haven't we met her yet?" Mikey let out a yawn.

It was as clear as day that Hakkai had been the one with the idea because Draken and Mikey weren't the ones to wake up this early. Especially on the weekends. As for Yuzuha and Emma... they weren't the ones to pass on a chance to meet his new roommate.

For the time being, he was glad that you were a heavy sleeper.

"We've both been busy with university and you know... managing the apartment. Not to mention getting used to each other." Realising that they weren't going to leave any time soon, he grabbed one of the four chairs from the kitchen table and sat down. "Is it safe to assume that you are not going to leave until you meet her?"

The sigh escaping Mitsuya's lips this time was evidently heavier at the sight of his friends nodding simultaneously.

What was he supposed to do? Wake you up? You hadn't reached that level of intimacy yet. Wait until you woke up on your own? He was sure that seeing five strangers in your living room right after waking up wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Listen, she came home late last night with the band and all so..."

None of them was shocked. They knew all about you. Mitsuya couldn't even form a sentence without mentioning you or something you did ever since you became roommates. And having realised, Hakkai before all, that this wasn't just some silly fascination about having a roommate for the first time, practically everyone in what used to be Toman had decided to help Mitsuya. But in order to do that... they had to meet you first.

"Um... Good morning?" You tried to hold back your yawn, leaning against the doorframe of your room.

Mitsuya had never felt more awkward in his life. He had to watch five of his best friends pretend to not know anything about you when Hakkai and Yuzuha even knew your measurements.

One week. You'd known each other for one week and he had already made a jacket for you. Had he given it to you yet? No. Would he do it any time soon? No. But it was nonetheless embarrassing.

"Well it was nice meeting you all but I have to go to tonight's bar." You smiled, standing up. "I'll be back for dinner but in the meantime..." you turned to look at Mitsuya. "If you have any time... I have a dress I don't really wear any more... could you perhaps make it a nice top? I'd like to wear it tonight."

Of course, Mitsuya agreed and said nothing as they all watched you leave. "Since you're already here, Hakkai, mind helping me out?" Mitsuya's smile was more threatening than kind. And even though Draken, Emma, Yuzuha, and a half asleep, Mikey managed to leave the apartment without getting scolded, Hakkai didn't have the same fate.

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 21

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Oystein had stopped putting in orders for a few weeks. He figured after what Y/n went through seeing the photo of Pelle, it would be best to give her a bit of a break. If he got a craving, he didn't mind just stepping in and grabbing it. The few times he went in though, he hadn't seen Y/n in the back or even sitting in the office. When he resumes putting in his orders, some guy ends up dropping his order off.

"Did Y/n finally decide to stop bringing you lunch?" Faust asked confused.

"Honestly, I have no idea. I haven't seen her in a few weeks. He tried again the next day and it was still another person and not Y/n. Eventually he walked into the shop and saw Hammeed standing at the register.

"Your regular Mr. Oystein?" He asked and he gave a nod.

"Hey did Y/n quit?" Oystein could see a saddened look on Hammeed's face.

"Oh no, she asked for some time off. She works very hard. She wasn't doing well. I do apologize she hasn't been able to deliver your orders. Has there been a problem with the deliveries?" He asked

"No no they've been great. Don't worry about it. I was just curious." Oystein took his food back to the store and locked himself in his office. He debating on doing another drive by but after her neighbor had spotted him last time, he didn't want to make it worse.

Instead, he called the grocery store she also worked at.

"Hi I was looking to place an order but wanted to know if Y/n was available to deliver it? She delivers for my parents usually." Oystein asked sitting back in his chair.

"Oh Y/n is on bereavement leave for another week. We can try and find someone else to make a delivery but you might have to just pick up your order." The woman on the line explained.

Oystein hung up the phone and chewed on his lip. Bereavement leave might someone had died. The only person he knew was sick was her mom but she was mentally sick, not on the verge of death sick. He sat for hours trying to decide what to do. He finally searched for a phone book and was able to find the number that matched the address he had written on a small ripped piece of paper he kept in his wallet. He dialed the number and waited nervously for someone to answer.

"Hello?" It was a woman but not Y/n.

"Um...hi I was calling for Y/n...to offer my condolences." Oystein sat up hoping this wouldn't backfire on him.

"Oh I'm sorry sweetheart but she's sitting in Shiva right now. Would you like me to take a message?" The woman asked quietly.

"I um...I'm a friend and I was just worried about her. I heard she was on bereavement leave and I got worried...how is she doing?" Oystein asked cautiously.

"Honestly she's not doing well. She really thought her little brother was getting better. She had spent a lot of time with him working through his issues but his soul was just too broken to bare another day here. It didn't help that she found his body." Oystein closed his eyes tightly hearing what the woman was saying. Y/n's little brother must have killed himself. He wasn't expecting that at all. He remembers her mentioning her brother had issues like Pelle but he never considered that he was so closely related.

"Shiva is over in another few days and she said she would be going back to work soon. Do you work with her?" The woman asked and Oystein swallowed the lump in his throat.

"No I'm just a friend. Can you tell her that Oystein is here if she needs anything, anything at all." He said tearing the photo of Pelle off the wall.

"I will let her know Oystein. Thank you for calling and the condolences." The woman hung up the phone and Oystein took his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. This is not what he was expecting. Everything felt so upside down. He should have known why Y/n was so hurt by his actions when it came to Pelle's death. He came off as a heartless and callous and she was desperately trying to keep her brother here. He felt like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.

He picked up the phone and dialed his home number. He waited to hear his mother's voice.

"Mom, I need your help. Y/n's brother died and I need to know what to send for condolences." Oystein stayed on the phone with his mother for over an hour in search of food delivery, flower delivery and any sort of funeral plans that his family could send an arrangement to. He asked his mom about what Shiva was and she explained that is a period of mourning after the funeral for the family to heal. She explained it was a very personal time for the family's healing journey and that it would be best for him to stay clear of her for now.

He also talked to her about Pelle and how things have happened between the two of them and while she wasn't thrilled to hear how he exploited the death of his friend, she explained to him that she knows how painful it was for him to lose Pelle. Oystein cried on the phone with his mother for the first time since he was a child.

He knew he had to get his shit together for his own sake. He needed to get back to the roots of what brought him to where he was today and stop letting stupid shit overshadow it all.

[incarnateirony]

I think the most profane thing in all of this was the smugness of the studios. They're only just now admitting to the public that this is going to impact movie and TV schedules, and started by saying "may impact" even as recent as a week or two ago, while the older CEOs that already got out and ran in the past are now going, "No, this is about to turn into catastrophic collapse of the entire industry, if this drags on till christmas these businesses will not even have the money to order anything."

Even Zaslav is shifting uncomfortably now going, well, we need a resolution, all the projections (that we convinced investors and the stock market of) are based on September back to work date. And he said that Thursday, and they failed to come to an agreement Friday.

They have, at best, one more shot at this in the next few weeks, before that "September back to work" date of Zaslav disappears into the bullshit wormhole he's been pulling it out of.

Even *if* everyone got to work *tomorrow*, it still takes months to write, develop, put things through pre-prod. And the holidays are coming full of stop gaps. Things wouldn't even start filming till like, new years break ends. And then shows want a few buffer months of filming ahead, so you'd be looking at a Spring schedule at best. And that says nothing for piled up double bookings for creatives and actors, et al, pushing things out and out and out.

Like, let me use Supernatural for example. It used to run Sept-Apr or so, then eventually moved Oct-May. When a season ended in mid May, even before any official renewal, authors were passing around next season ideas, and had initial drafts by, say, late June of where they were going to go with arenas and assigning future writing assignments over the team. Then July and August are actually, you know, writing it and pushing it through other pre-production phases, including studios sticking their dicks in to bounce it back, and the network, and whatever else. That's why there's multiple drafts--Writer, Network, Production. Then by late August and into September they're filming, and in SPN's case, it was 8 days/episode. This varies per show, 6-10, but 8 is a good average anyway. Weekends aren't included, so you can generally get about 3 episodes in a month done, give or take. And they like to have about in the bag before air, for a plethora of reasons. So a late August filming > Sept > Early Oct is like 6-7 weeks filming for five episodes.

While minor details may change on different shows, this is a general rhythm to account on, and it's a show of good averages all around.

So with this in mind, the writers haven't written SHIT because STRIKE. So this entire quarter is bumped at least into next, and then filming into next year, and so on.

And they *might not even get back to work by SEPTEMBER*. Then comes holidays and-- you see the problem here. Even some top reality shows are sort of off the table due to their hosts being part of SAG. Reality stars are even muttering about unionizing and discontent with pay, production groups not covered are falling in under IATSE who is this close to joining the rave.

And all they had to do was agree to pay fairly months ago. But they thought people would give up, that people would accept rewashed fodder instead of losing subscribers, that they could snow investors with "free cash flow" from not ordering things, even knowing they were going to reduce ordering anyway because they were in the red from over-ordering to pad content libraries in streaming. So some +100M cash flow is actually real pitiful when it should have another zero behind it. They are feeling it, and realizing, they did a fucking dumb. Penny pinching their work crew is going to tumble several media empires at this rate, but they STILL didn't come to the table properly and for real last time.

Like they Do Not Get It. The unions aren't going to stop, or bend. The unions want double payrate, and mostly should get it, or at least real damn close. But they kept offering pennies as if they had empty coffers while raking in hundreds of millions for CEOs, and those CEOs are about to lose everything from their refusal to break from their greed.

The industry was already due for a content retraction, but the least they could do is say, yeah, sure, we'll pay the people we DO hire fairly.

A lot of authors and actors are going to find themselves struggling for work after this regardless, but it's the kind of job they've already been working other jobs around. So "starving them out" was never gonna work, the suits never got that. All they want is fair returns for when they DO get work. But companies are proving they'd rather commit suicide than do that. And now, they're panicking, realizing, maybe they shouldn't? But what do now while running out of money?

WB's current plan for example involves selling off a lot of its international and sports networks, but the irony is, that's the only thing keeping them floating, but they're reaching a point of no other choice. At this rate these studios are about to have to sell ALL their linear stations, bail from classic broadcast, and put everything into streaming. Otherwise, we're watching their slow fall.

[itznarcotic]

full tweet text under the Read More:

I was ready to move on, I had made my last statement and I haven't looked at anything regarding my past for a full week. I didn't look at anything regarding legal documents or anything regarding my situation since I moved back to Doki. I wanted to be hopeful for the future and never interact with that side again. So to see it all come back and reopen a wound that I was ready to heal from and to have to talk to my lawyer again on how to respond.

The document mentioned was at first made to document my thoughts and history with evidence so that my lawyer can see the general picture of what was going on, and if there were issues that should be addressed. It was first made during my darkest time mentally and I wrote everything on my mind little by little at that time. I made the document thinking that it was never going to be public to anyone but to my lawyer. Although it was a document filled with my personal information as well privacy information that should not be public, there were no other addresses or specific locations mentioned. Regarding a recording, this was not intended to be anything other than a distribution test for planning of a collaborative event between two people, which happened to be left over from one test recording, and I never recorded any other conversations with anyone. The recording was never shown anywhere even in a legal setting and there are no other records. However, I regret that it was mentioned and I am sorry to all parties affected for the misunderstanding in this.

I requested that I just wanted to move on. Sometimes I didn't hear anything for days from the lawyers on the other side and felt like I'd be alone and isolated for a long time. It made it so hard for me mentally. On Feb 5th, my lawyer discussed and said it will be best to show the document I wrote to the other lawyers as we have not heard from them for a week or any negotiation talks or given a meeting to discuss after my request to part. It was never intended to be used for anything else, I've asked my lawyer to convey that and have communication that the document as it was written wasn't going to be released anywhere, and my lawyer did so when sending the document. Less than two hours after my lawyer sent the document, the termination notice came out. I was very shocked, but thought that was the last time I will hear or think about the document and that this, personally and my own opinion, was the end of the lawyers and legal involvement.

All of the communication was done between lawyers in Japanese. Things are not black and white and everything gets more complicated and muddled when lawyers are involved in a different country. When things are conveyed to multiple parties through different degrees of communication, everything turns into different narratives and different translations. I thought it was over and I've accepted what happened and ready to move on. Everything I post to the public about the situation was a response. If it was a month ago, it will have been different as I was angry but I was also very alone in my head. But it's not a month ago and I've accepted it. I wanted it to be neutral and private but now the whole world is involved and the public is watching every step that happens.

I am not perfect and I have faults. I had to watch my dad cry and break down in front of me for the first time in my life last night. Despite everything that has happened, please show kindness to all parties involved, there are real people behind the monitors. One of the reasons why I wanted this to be private is that the internet can be a cruel place and I knew this would happen the moment this type of notice drops. What I didn't reveal to anyone and only my parents and therapist knew was that it was not one attempt but two, which happened a few weeks after the first. My parents found me in time after searching for me for hours before anything happened. I was in a really dark place and I do not wish this to anyone. No one should go through what I went through. I reveal this now not for pity but to state that no life, no matter what, should be risked for ego or winning anything. There are no winners in this. Please don't make it like high school. Treat everyone like adults and with some empathy and kindness.

For those who wish to see receipts or documents or anything else, hoping I will reveal them, I'm sorry but these are the things that should be private and if needed, between lawyers. Revealing private documents and talking about the details within will only just make things worse and more complicated as outside parties get involved and will just hurt everyone. No one deserves to be pushed over the edge. So many people have got hurt and involved even if they were innocent bystanders. In the end, I will always be here to respond and that is the only thing I will do in public. I hope this will be the last statement I have to make.

[bluepotion85]

The Golden Ratio - Chapter 6

(The following story contains male weight gain, food play, BDSM, kidnap, encouragement, and feeder/feedee scenarios. If that's not for you, then go to church or something vanilla dude.

This takes place during and after the events of the One-Piece film GOLD. For a better experience see the film on your local streaming service.

This story is written in collaboration with @bee-wg)

Tesoro

He tried to stand up fast after I told him to follow me out of the cage, but the floor was coated in so much liquid he tripped with his step. That cactus syrup did a number on him. 

His stomach roars so loudly even I can hear it, but I don't want him leaking his ass pussy juice all over my ship. The smell of it is also strong, a sweet scent that entices me to grab him by the side and take him to my quarters. I resist my urge though.

“We are getting a bath first, then you can stuff that needy belly of yours,”

“I’ve never been so keen to shower before,”

“I have something even better than a shower.”  

While the idea of seeing his fatten-up body demolish a restaurant menu or two is enticing, I can’t deny the idea of sharing a bath with him sounds way more rewarding. I will see the fruits of my work in all its glory.

He remained restless on the way to the bathhouse.

“Is it close by?” he asked.

“Close enough, why? You don't want to be seen?” 

“I don't care about that, I'm just hungry. The sooner we deal with this the better,” 

“Don't worry, after this, we will have a proper meal,”

When we got to the bathhouse, he went straight to the changing rooms. He started to strip right there and there, with no snarky remarks or questions. He just went with it. The guy was hungry, that's for sure.

He speeds for the water right after the last of his clothes hit the floor. I saw him jumping into the water, splashing everywhere while I removed the rest of my clothes. 

When I entered the water, he was standing up to leave.

“That was refreshing, now to the restaurant,”

I grab him by the side and throw him back into the water.

“You haven't bathed in weeks, clean properly, you pig,”

“Pfft, fine. I thought you wanted me to be a pig,” he said before diving into the water.

He re-emerges shortly after, floating lazily with his eyes closed. I move closer to him while he relaxes, and I take my time marveling at his body after almost two weeks in the cage. 

Where there used to be abs, there now lies a belly that floats over the water. It spills to his sides, taking up more of his frame. I'm hypnotized by it, slowly rising with every breath he takes.

The definition on his arms and legs banished, leaving supple thick sacks of meat decorated by stretch marks. 

And yet the one thing that keeps growing bigger than anything is his tits. As big as they were already, from the muscles that he worked for years, they now ballon with a thick layer of fat. They led his step, weighed down by their sheer size, but now they fighting for space with his belly above the water. 

He must have gained at least fifty pounds, mostly focused on his chest and ass, a few days of indulgence, and nobody will be able to tell he ever set foot in a gym.

My eyes go to his dick still in its cage, and I wave my hands to take back the ring for now.

He stirs from the movement and looks down to find his released privates. 

“Are you going to give me my dick back?”

“You don’t use it anyways, but yes, you can clean it up better this way,”

He smiles at me and sinks back into the water. I immediately pulled him out and said, “You are not allowed to cum. If I see you trying to, I will get you back in the cage with human portions for real,” 

“Okay,” he said with a blank face.

To anyone else, he is acting as always, but that glimpse of fear was clear as day for me. 

I released him from my grip, and he continued to soak in the warm water. 

“How is Luffy and the crew doing?” He asked.

I was surprised he hadn't asked earlier. The straw hats have remained busy thanks to the several missions my team had saved for them.

“They are in Zou. No matter what we ask of them, they keep getting into deeper problems,”

“And-?”

“And then we lost communications with them. Someone forgot to feed the Den Den Mushis,”

“But they were okay?”

“Of course, besides they are the Straw Hats, they will be fine,”

He looked at me inquisitively and sighed.

“They are a handful, but I'm sure they will be fine.”

I have no clue if the Straw hats are even alive or not, but this will keep him calm in the meantime. 

“Could you help me wash up my back?” I said.

He looked back at me and replied with squinted eyes, “Can't you wash yourself with your golden hands or something?”

“I don't have golden eyes on my neck. Come on, I will help you afterward.” 

“Uggh Fine,” he said.

He moved behind me fast. I don't know what surprised me more, his speed even after gaining so much weight or the fact he moved this fast to scrub my back. 

He stays behind me silently. Most likely admiring my wide, muscular build, then he says, “How did you get that star mark?”

This son of a bitch.

“Not everybody knows I came from poverty. I worked myself to the bone to get this far, and that star is the mark that shows I’ve been reborn,”

“I prefer to remember my mission through the scars of battle, but this is also cool,” 

His movements are slow and deliberate, scrubbing carefully around the area of the scar. He is transfixed by it, and weirdly, I appreciate this reaction. The scar was there to cover a story of shame and abuse, but he is looking at it with reverence. 

Once he moves lower on my back, I can feel his touch change. It lingers longer on my skin, allowing himself to explore the definition of my muscles.

There is an element of conquest in making another man desire you, to crave you in a carnal way. For me, the idea of someone as prominent as Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter, the second in command to the Straw hats, reduce to a hedonistic pig that only craves my cock is the ultimate sexual conquest. If he hadn't met me, he might have been a dominant partner. That's why this is the highest testament of my ability to corrupt and please anyone I set my eyes on. 

When he’s done, I turn around offering to clean his back. He accepts, and I admire the subtle ring of fat that his chest forms toward his back, it lightly touches his arms in a soft embrace. His rolls are starting to form, pulling down at the base of his back. His flesh molds to my touch, while I run my hands around them. I squish the tender fat and he jolts for a second, as I continue to rub his skin he relaxes letting me continue. These soft rolls of fat might be subtle now, but not for long, pig. 

His breath is laborious as he leans back against my embrace. He is enjoying the attention, allowing me to indulge and all I wonder is, how far can I go, how far will he let me push? My first instinct is to grab his side and shake the supple flesh, feel its jiggle under my fingers as he holds a moan that makes my dick stir to life. 

I could go further, push him to what I know we both want. It's evident by the smell of the thick liquid emanating from his ass, the smell even here is strong enough to make my body heat up. But there is still more for him to learn before we cross that bridge, the last thing I need is to mess things up if he gets scared from a rushed opportunity.

Grabbing a bucket I splash his back with water and he turns to look at me, his eyes are flooded with need. For almost a week he has been needing release and soon enough I will give it to him. For now, we get out of the bath, dry up, and start to change. I got him a bigger size of the green crop top and sweatpants he had worn before.

"Were you trying to make me do sex back in the cage?" He asked as he put on pants

I couldn't contain my laughter as I replied, “You are really the most innocent man I know, Roronoa Zoro, how could any of that be sex?”

“Because it's supposed to feel good and I cummed.”

“Only you would conclude anything that feels good and leads to cumming would be sex,”

“Then what was it?”

“It's how real men release stress, usually people learn when they're teenagers."

“I was busy learning how to be the greatest swordsman in the world,”

“That's why you've always seemed so stuck up. At least you're more familiar with it now.”

He looked at me, finished dressing up,  waiting for me to do the same. While I button my shirt he asks, “Can you hurry up, I'm starving here,” 

“Don't rush so much pirate hunter, I will make it up to you for the wait,”

We got into the limo and drove to the Golden Pearl. When we entered the VIP section Zoro sat at the same table we used the first time we came. He is a man of habit, I will give him that. 

The waiter takes our order and we wait for the food to arrive. In the meantime, Roronoa attacked the basket of shelled nuts that was placed at our table. At the start, he bit the shells and spit them out as soon as the center was consumed, but as the basket drained he spent more time playing with the shells in his mouth. Could he have an oral fixation? 

When the food arrives he goes to town, eating everything in front of me, while before I had to encourage him to indulge he now takes the wild in the gluttony. Belches, groans, moans, and whimpers for more food, become the only sound emanating from this room until Roronoa eats the last plate of food. He seemed to forget that I was even here.

“I ordered something you might like,”

“What would that be?”

“Dessert”

“And what type of dessert?”

“It's mochi, a new recipe that one of our chefs engineered. It holds its texture and flavor for hours,”

“Is that even possible?”

“Everything is possible with money!” I shout enthusiastically. 

“Everything except making you discreet,” he said.

He lay on his chair, resting a hand over his belly, and waited for the dessert to arrive. 

Minutes later, the waiter came back with the plates. Both our plates have a ball of colorful smoke swirling slowly. The smoke is kept in place by a bubble that the waiter pops with a needle once I signal her. The fumes pours out, revealing the mochi inside. 

Roronoa remained bored on his side of the table until the aroma enticed him. The cloud carries the scent of strawberry, cherry, pineapple, watermelon, and more, all in a fruit punch of sorts. 

“Good presentation, isn’t it?”

“It’s interesting,” he replied.

He keeps trying to play cool, but I can see him swallowing the drool that pools from his mouth.

“This smoke is just for show. It’s a mix of all the flavors the mochi could have, every piece has a different set,”

“A different set? Shouldn't it be one per piece?”

“Give it a try and see for yourself,” I reply, biting on the mochi.

“The flavor changed,” he said, surprised.

“Every so often, the flavor of the mochi will change. Try to guess each flavor while you eat it.”

His chewing sped up, savoring the soft texture. We stayed there for a while, allowing Roronoa to point out some of the scents in the food. Once his stomach wasn't as full we moved out of the restaurant.

His demeanor is calm during the drive back to my office. He continues to chew on the mochi, his head facing the buildings outside. He is so quiet for once, you could think he is sleeping.

“snore. . .munch. . .snore.” 

Wait a minute, I touch his shoulder to see the bastard is asleep, how is he still chewing into the mochi? Is his oral fixation this strong?

“I didn't expect you to enjoy it this much,” I said quietly. 

Zoro

At some point on the drive back to his office, I fell asleep, the mochi still fresh in my mouth. I'm impressed with how it retains the same texture since dinner. The flavors it had so far were mostly fruit-based, cherry, and melon, but when we entered the building, it started to change again into matcha. 

When we entered his office, I noticed something sitting at the corner of the room. He walked to his desk and started to work while I stood there waiting.

“Aren’t you going to put me back on the wall?”

“Do you want to get back in the wall so soon? I thought you would enjoy to use your legs for a little longer,”

”Cut the crap, you know what I mean.”

“I wanted to reward you since you finally admitted your true nature.”

“The best reward you can think of is not torturing me as much.”

“Would you rather be in the wall?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Perfect, I also got you a new bed, you can sleep there instead of the wall,”

He pointed at the thing resting on the corner. I approached it, and any expectations I had were thrown out the window. It's a plush dog bed the size of a futon.

“You couldn't give me a futon like any normal person?!” I shout.

“This is more in line with you, now be grateful for my generosity and be quiet,”

I am about to retort when he spits his mochi into the baggage bin under this desk.

“Why did you spit it out?! Mine is still feeling fresh,” 

“Of course it does. It's supposed to last over eight hours, but I can't wait for that long, and I would choke if I tried to swallow it whole. So the best thing is to get rid of it now,”

He could have given it to me instead of eating it halfway. What a waste.

I throw myself on the dog bed and leave him to work. The bed was so fluffy on my back. I won't say it out loud to him. It's already embarrassing enough that I had to admit I'm a pig, to now also admit I like the dog bed.

While I try to get a nap, another problem becomes apparent. Ever since Tesoro removed the cage, I've been fighting my lust, but my dick hasn't gotten the message. Even when the beads are standing still, when the only food in my mouth is the mochi and my nipples are left alone, my dick remains rock hard, tenting my pants and leaving a dark spot of precum. 

My hands drift inside my pants, now saturated with butt juice, drawing closer to my butt cheeks. My ass has also been on overdrive, gushing more liquid as the itch inside me continues to grow. Even when I'm off the wall and out of that damned cage, I’m tormented by this. At least I’m not being starved to death.

I’ll have to take my hands out of my pants, or else I might lose control and cum in front of the golden perv. His threat is still fresh in my head to just ignore it.

“You are not allowed to cum. If I see you trying to, I will get you back in the cage with human portions for real”

Fucking bastard. I can't just go back to the cage. I try to keep my mind focused on the mochi, drawing more of the flavor, ignoring my aching dick. But each bite makes me feel more in need. Fuck what is wrong with me?

“You seem to be pretty frisky,”

“It's all your fault,”

“Is that so?”

“Of course, you got me hooked in all types of weird shit to now leave me hanging,”

“I just showed you stuff everyone already knows. You are the one who can't get enough of it. Let's get you a massage, maybe that will help you relax,”

“Wait, you are just trying to get me back in the cage.”

“What? No, why would- “

He sniffs the air for a second and starts laughing, “Are you so pent up you fear of cumming from the massage?”

“Anyone would be like this after having that cock cage for five days,”

“No, you are like that because your needy dick is just like its owner, it has no satiation,”

I grit my teeth with anger, not only because he is right, this is my fault, but also because If I take his offer, I risk going back to hell. I've been craving those massages for a while now, and this bastard must imagine as much. He is just playing with me after all.

“What about this, if you cum because of me, I won't punish you,”

“Won't count if the massage table makes me go over the edge,”

“It does count if I'm the one who does the massage, besides I think you need more than the massage to cum at this point.”

Unfortunately, he has a point. The last days in the cage proved that I needed more than one type of stimulation to cum. Even in that, my body has turned greedy.

“Fine, let's get this over with.”

With a snap of his fingers, the massage table appears from the floor. The arms are nowhere to be seen. 

“You haven't had a massage in a while, you must have a lot of stored tension,” he said.

While I started to undress, my eyes caught Tesoro’s shirt and jacket flying across the room to his desk. When I'm done, I see his shirtless body beside the table, taking away his rings.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I'm getting ready for the massage. What does it look like?”

“You know what I'm asking!”

“Oh right, you are a poor ignorant pig. Most masseurs use their whole bodies to relieve tension, of course, the table can only use its arms, so get ready for the real deal,”

I roll my eyes and get in position over the table.

He puts the same oil I got used to, but as soon as his hands touch my skin, I notice the difference from the golden hands. 

His warm hands move firmly over my feet and calves, releasing all tension. As he goes up to my thighs, he says, “These are bigger now. Is that because of the squatting on the dildo, or from all the food you guzzled at the trough?”

I try to reply, but he grips my thighs, and I have to close my mouth to hold a moan. 

“I can't even close my hands around them. Just imagine how much they will grow if you keep eating like that, pig,” he said, gripping my thigh.

The grip on my flesh is strong, rubbing along my leg, slowly moving up until he gropes my asscheeks. He slaps one of them before applying pressure in circles.

I yelp before he says, “And these two, they have fattened up nicely. It must be from all the time you spent sitting on your ass, eating like there was no tomorrow. They already looked great when I saw you hunched over the trough, but now they are even better,”

The more he plays with them, the more I feel the held-back energy in me rising, my penis continues to leak against the table while Tesoro adds, “Maybe this is why your butt has been so hungry for attention, It's grown so much it has an appetite of his own,”

He moves up my lower back leaving my asshole alone Damn it! It does crave more attention. Why am I like this?

Suddenly he climbs over me, his legs at the sides of the table with his pelvis resting over my ass.

“What are you doing? You are going to crush me!” I say, feeling the weight of his body.

“I have easier access to your back muscles and stop complaining. I know you are loving it from how much you are leaking,”

“That doesn't mean anything,”

“It does, just like a dog’s tail when it's happy, you leak profusely the more excited you get. You can't deny it when it's gushing out of you this much,” he says, slapping my butt again.

I can feel him again groping my ass, and the next time he touches my skin, I hear the splash of liquid against my back.

“Did you hear that? All of that was your butt's juice,”

Before I could reply, his elbow crashed against my spine. I feel a crack when his full body applies pressure on me. A wave of stress leaves me, and I can feel my body melting under his weight. 

The motions are so strong it makes my body rub against the table, teasing my nipples and cock. Every time he leans forward, I can feel his bulge rubbing against my ass.

“You have a nudge of tension here, or is it just a fat roll? I'm not too sure,” he says, grabbing my belly by the sides.

“It does feel like fat to me, doesn't it pig?” 

He leans in closer to my head as he continues to grope and jiggle my flesh. I bite on the mochi, focusing on the flavor and texture, but his words ring in my head all the same.

“You are a natural pig after all. This new flesh must feel good. All of it was made from pleasure, meant to give pleasure,” he says.

He continues to explore my body from behind. Resting more of his body against mine. He gropes my chest, saying, “And these jugs, ready to be milked! they are so fat and juicy, Do you have any idea how they bounce as you walk?”

His fingers flicker the stamps on my nipples, and I moan deeply.

“Your nipples seem bigger. Who would have thought they would adapt so well to the nipple stamps,” he says before he pulls on them.

I huff for air after a loud moan escapes me. He removes his hands from my chest, moving away from me before rubbing his palms over my neck. My body is almost at the tipping point when he moves his hands lower on my body. He parts my butt cheeks, and I feel his fingers teasing my entrance. 

“Your pussy is so lubricated, it doesn't mind me just entering,”

“Pussy? what are you talking ab-?”

My words were cut short when his fingers entered me in a single shove. I felt the shot of pleasure making me see white.

The cold touch of the golden hands pales compared to this. I whimper, feeling the need for him to go deeper, to scratch that itch in the deepest of my being.

While the golden hands massaged me, slowly pushing against the flesh like a simmer. Tesoro goes for a more aggressive approach, going straight to boil. His fingers go in and out of me, taking their time rubbing the deepest point inside of me.

I feel my ass contracting against his fingers, yearning for him to touch more, to go deeper, to make me cum sooner. My brain starts to go haywire, looking for the chance to cum, and before I notice, my ass is pushing back against his hand.

Suddenly, he stops and I continue to push myself until he says, “Tell me you want it,”

I'm brought back to reality with that, and I chew on the mochi as I try to fight the need. But I can feel his fingers so close to the point that makes me jolt with pleasure, if he just pushes just a little more, I would cum. So, in the silence of the room, with no other witness but ourselves, I said, “Please, make me cum,”

At that, he immediately assaulted my ass like nothing ever before. I yelled as his fingers ravaged that spot, rubbing aggressively. The flood of heat from my ass and the flavor in my mouth were too much to take. It doesn't take long for me to feel my balls rise and my ass clench as I cum against the table. 

Between mouthfuls of mochi, my moans flew out. They were so loud and deep that I wasn't sure if someone could hear them outside the room.

When my body finishes trembling from the pleasure, he pulls out of me. 

“Let me know whenever you need help, and I can give you another one of those,” he said as he licked his fingers and moved away from the table.

My body feels so relaxed, so empty of all worries or stress, that I end up falling asleep at the massage table. When I wake up, Tesoro is already cleaned up and back in his usual clothes.

“Finally awake, I thought for a second that you would sleep there for the rest of the night,” he said.

“Of course not, I still have to finish my mochi,” I replied.

I see Tesoro left a towel beside the massage table, using it to clean the excess oil off my body. I put my clothes back on and drop on the dog bed. 

I spent the rest of the night chewing on the mochi, my mind lingers on the reality of my situation. My body has gotten used to the constant barrage of stimulation, the release of energy, and the touch of the miserable golden bastard. 

Every second of it makes me seethe with anger, but what irritates me the most is how much my body craves it. 

I have allowed my stomach and dick to take control of my decisions. At least I can keep some pride in winning Tesoro's challenges. Eventually, I fell asleep, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing.

My eyes open, and I see the floor moving underneath me. As my eyes refocus, I see Tesoro is carrying my limp body over his shoulder. But I'm so tired, my eyes close again thinking it must be a dream of sorts.

When I open them again I'm back on the dog bed, but looking around me, I notice this is no longer Tesoro’s office. The golden finger did move me.

“Where did you take me? isn't it late already?”

“We are in my quarters,” he said calmly.

A part of me was annoyed at his audacity, but the bed was fluffy and my eyes were heavy. So I decided to worry about this tomorrow. As I continued to chew on my mochi, I leaned my head against the plush of the bed and let sleep take over. After so many restless nights in the cage, I can finally have a good night of sleep again.

<< First Chapter / <Previous Chapter /

[agaypanic]

The Boyfriend Next Door (Francis Wilkerson X Neighbor!Reader)

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Summary: A few months after meeting Francis, he’s finally coming back home for spring. He calls you before boarding his plane, and Francis leaves you anxious and excited when he says he has a question to ask when he gets home.

A/N: last francis fic!!! this is part 2 to the boy next door’s brother, so read that first if you haven't yet. I know the first part is written in third person but im writing this in second, idc. Added the SASU thing just for conversational stuff, im not having this fic be in a specific point in the actual series, although in my head it does take place in season 1

***

Francis had made good use of the phone number you had written on his arm the night you met. After landing in Alabama, he called you for a quick chat while he waited for a cab. Then Francis called you at the academy after putting his things in his dorm, telling you the number for the academy phone in case you ever wanted to call him. 

Eventually, he was calling you so much that he had your number memorized before the end of the week.

Francis loved talking to you. And he was right; he liked hearing about your day a lot more from you than from Malcolm. You could talk his ear off, then the other, and he still wouldn’t mind. If anything, the only people who seemed to mind were his fellow cadets waiting for a chance to use the phone.

“Enough about me,” Francis said, wrapping up a story about one of his latest antics involving the Southern Alabama State University’s pool. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Definitely not property damage.” He heard you laugh through the phone, and his pulse quickened a bit. “Nothing but homework, at least that’s what it feels like. Thank God for spring break, otherwise my brain might break.”

“Speaking of spring break…” Francis trailed off, picking at some peeling paint on the pillar the phone was mounted on. “Got any plans?”

You smiled at his tone, like he had a big secret. “Not that I know of. Why?”

He shrugged. “No reason. Just thought I’d ask.”

“Are you staying in Alabama for break?” You tried to keep the disappointment out of your voice. You hadn’t seen Francis since the day you met, which was almost three months ago. It’s not that you absolutely needed to see him. But multiple calls a week, where conversations ranged from your day-to-day to little secrets no one else knew about you, made you want to see him face to face. 

Francis made a non-commital noise, shrugging even though you couldn’t see it. “Depends on if my mom ever finds out about the pool.”

***

Francis was lying, of course. He didn’t want to lie to you, even though there was no ill intention behind it, but he wanted to surprise you. 

But while waiting for his flight to board, he got impatient.

“Y/n?” Francis asked after hearing the phone get picked up.

“Hey, Francis.” You greeted, and he heard some rustling, which was probably you leaving the room to get some privacy. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” He answered, jumping a little when he heard his flight being called.

“Where are you right now?”

“Uhh, doesn’t matter. Listen, I have a question I wanna ask you, Y/n.” While speaking, Francis looked at his ticket and realized he had to get in line for boarding. 

“Okay…” You let out a little chuckle, wondering why he was sounding so frantic. “Go ahead.”

“I’ll have to ask you later, I gotta go. But I’ll, um, I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

“Wait, what-”

“Bye!”

***

You were on edge for the next few hours. You tried calling the academy for Francis, but another cadet picked up, saying he was flying home today. Hearing that made you anxious, in a good and bad way. You were finally seeing Francis after months of only phone calls, but you had no time to prepare for his arrival. His saying he had a question for you right before hanging up didn’t help. 

When there was a frantic knock on the front door, you all but flew out of your seat on the couch, yelling to your parents that you would answer. They just laughed at your excitement before returning to the TV.

Reaching the entryway, you flung the door open, relieved that the person on the other side was who you were hoping for. “Francis!” 

The boy before you dropped his suitcase to catch you as you launched yourself into his arms. “Surprise.” He laughed, caught off guard by the affection. But it was definitely not unwelcome. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, pulling back to look at him. But before he could answer, you waved your hand, a more important question popping into your mind. “Wait! No, no, no, what was your question?”

“My question?” Francis tried to act dumb, but it was a futile attempt, considering you had been thinking about your previous conversation since it happened.

“You said you had a question to ask me, and then you hung up. What’s the question?”

Francis laughed again, but this time more nervously. He had spent the whole flight panicking over what he wanted to ask you and then spent the whole car ride hyping himself up to actually ask it. And now, here he was. “Oh, right…” Francis’ fingers locked together, keeping you in his hold, which you didn’t mind at all. His thumbs drummed against your back, building up the anticipation.

“Francis-”

“Do you wanna go out?” He blurted, and you blinked in surprise. “On a date. With me.”

“Like… now?” You were trying to keep your cool, but you couldn’t stop the giant grin from taking over your face.

Francis took this as a good sign. “We could go now, if you want. Or, or later in the week, maybe. And then, you know, maybe if it goes well, we could go on another date and maybe…”

“Start dating?” You finished, hoping that’s where he was going. “Like, officially?”

He nodded furiously, glad that you were getting the idea that he was trying to get across. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to, obviously. We could take it slow or-” 

You cut off what was about to be a nervous ramble by pressing your lips to Francis’. You were just so caught up in your excitement, you couldn’t help but kiss him. Francis pulled you closer, if that was even possible, deepening the kiss, and you hoped that your parents wouldn’t come to check on the two of you.

The both of you were out of breath when you broke apart, resting your foreheads against each other. After the months of build-up, you didn’t want to take it slow. And judging by the kiss you shared, Francis felt the same way.

“Malcolm’s gonna be so pissed,” Francis murmured, and you felt a ghost of a smile against your lips as he kissed you again.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

Francis Wilkerson Taglist: @tweedledipshit

[magicalrocketships]

trying to spread a little joy on the dash this evening! Some questions, please answer any or all of them if you feel like it!

have you eaten anything nice recently?

have you had anything nice to drink?

have you written anything? (If you ever wanted to come back to that single dad Max tumblr fic or that girl Daniel and Max eating her out fic you posted then I for one would be SEATED)

have you bought anything cool lately?

anything else nice you'd like to share instead of or as well as this?

and if anyone else wants to answer these then please do!

Oh, an excellent and well-timed ask, anon, for I slept terribly last night and was feeling a little Sad capital S earlier. However! Questions!

I have just finished eating some bacon, squash, chili and sage tagliatelle, and it was fucking incredible and so easy. I haven't had the energy/been well enough to cook for over 18 months so I am gently exploring making things for me again, and I had FORGOTTEN how good this was/is, and how much I love it. Recipe available upon request but trust me when I say it's so fucking good.

WELL. I made some switchel this afternoon which is currently just infusing for later in the week, and I snuck a little taste as I was putting it in some tupperware, and it tasted SO NICE and ginger and spicy. BUT my favourite sainsbury's bedtime tea was discontinued a couple of years ago and I was whining to @andwegogreen about it earlier in the week as I was doing my supermarket order and I LOOKED IT UP and it is BACK. Camomile, lemon balm, lavender and valerian root infusion: back in my life.

I think I finished rewriting a scene from the end of chapter 11 of breaking every rule for you that has been unsatisfactory for me for weeks??? So that's good. And yes!! I actually have a couple of asks about single dad Max that I've been saving up for a day with some energy so I have THOUGHTS. Why isn't Max racing????? How did he end up with kids so young?????? How did Daniel's racing life go without Max in it???? Why did Max take the bus to the karting track????? ALL QUESTIONS I HAVE CONSIDERED THE ANSWERS TO. And girl Daniel continues to live rent free in my head.

Goddddd I've had to spend so much stupid money on household shit recently, like a new iron after my ironing disaster last weekend (NB not my fault, everyone I have told about this has said WHAT THE FUCK and I wholeheartedly agree) and MORE damp traps and TWO attempts at fixing the broken curtain rail in my bedroom, but I did get a pumpkin bourbon candle a few weeks ago which at some points is the only good thing in the room.

I'm rereading Emma and I like it more and more the older I get. Same with Mansfield Park. There you go. Thank you for this nice ask in the middle of a Sunday evening.

[jujitto]

. . . . . . . . . 한 번 뿐인 것  ★  o n e t i m e t h i n g

p a i r i n g s :: park sunghoon x reader

g e n r e :: angst

w a r n i n g :: not proofread, mentions of situationship

w / c :: 1.7K

You two weren't together. But you weren't friends either. Your relationship was complicated. No one could understand what you guys were not even yourselves. You guys hugged, kissed, and hung out as a couple would but you guys weren't a couple. You guys just had something going on but everyone would question what you guys were and even yourself would question what you were doing with him. You didn't understand or remember how you got involved with him.

It just happened. Though it was only supposed to be a one-time thing. It was never supposed to happen again. You kissed. It was a one-time thing. But when it became something more. The whole one-time thing went down the drain. It was just supposed to be a one-time thing. And you told him that it was supposed to be a one-time thing. But it never was a one-time thing. It just kept happening over and over. And that wasn't something one-time things were supposed to do. One time things were easy for you. They didn't involve feelings or the emotion people called love. It was just something that you didn't want.

They were just simple. But this wasn't a one-time thing and it never was going to be one. The sound of whispers and hush conversations disrupted the peace you felt as you walked down the hallway of the place you would soon be leaving. High school. Usually, you wouldn't pay any of these people any mind but their whispers confused you. Though you continued walking as if they didn't bother you to your locker only to be met with the familiar face of your best friend. Jiyoon stood there with a look of uncertainty written on her face only to wipe it away when she spotted you walking her way. You could tell that the smile on her face was fake.

You knew that the whispers and the way she looked had to be for the same reason. It seemed as if everyone knew something but you. 'Before you say anything. I didn't know. No one knew until this morning.' Jiyoon spoke as you gave her a confused look. No one knew what. Just what in the world was she talking about? 'What?' You questioned not paying her any mind as you rummaged through your locker trying to get your textbooks. You can hear her rambling something about dating and you not being mad. 'About Sunghoon. You haven't heard. Maybe that's why you're acting so nonchalant.' She guessed as you shrugged your shoulders. Whatever he had going on wasn't your problem. Why should you care?

'So what you're saying is that you're cool with him dating someone else?' Her words made you stop in your tracks. Dating? Was that what was wrong with him? For the last few weeks, you have noticed something was up with him but you never really thought to ask him because his business was his business and you weren't someone special who could just ask questions about what he was doing in his day-to-day life. Though deep down inside you was a bit hurt. 'Why should I care whom he dates and whom he doesn't date? It's his life.' You spoke looking at Jiyoon who nodded but still had a look of uncertainty on her face.

'But don't you guys have something going on? I mean you are always together.' She questioned as you narrowed your eyes at her. You guessed what she was saying was true. But you two had nothing going on. You weren't a couple nor were you, friends. You guys had what you would call a situation-ship going on so to say. But it wasn't anyone's business what you two were or were doing. 'We are nothing. Our relationship is nothing. That's that.' You stated turning on your heels and walking away. Though the words came out of your mouth they still hurt. You told yourself multiple times that it was a one-time thing but you just kept coming back for it. Now, look at you. Feelings hurt because he's with somebody else who isn't you. What a shame.

You hoped he was happy. Because whatever you guys had going on was about to end. No more kissing, hugging, or going out. No more of this situation ship you had going on. No more! It was all too good to be true. His hands are on your waist. Your butt is pressed against the steering wheel of the car. Lips pressed against each other as hands roam. The windows fogged up. The surrounding area was empty except for the car you were occupying. The bright neon sign of the roller skating rink flashed illuminating the cramped space of the car.

You should be disappointed in yourself. You said no more. But here you were kissing him in his car with his hands all over you. But you just couldn't stop, could you? That's why your feelings are hurt because you couldn't stay away from him. However, you could feel the intensity in the air as your lips locked with his. It was a mixture of desire, longing, and a tinge of sadness. Deep down, you knew that this would be the last time, the final act of this complicated dance you had been engaged in. But at this moment, you allowed yourself to drown in the intoxication of his touch, the familiarity that had become both comforting and devastating.

As his hands explored your body, every nerve ending came alive, craving his touch even though your mind screamed at you to stop. The physical connection you shared was undeniable, but it was the emotional entanglement that had you questioning everything. What were you doing with him? What were you to each other?

You broke away from the kiss, your breathing heavy as you tried to gather your thoughts. The car felt suffocating, and the weight of your emotions threatened to consume you. With a trembling voice, you finally mustered the courage to speak.

"We can't keep doing this," you said, your voice laced with a mix of resignation and sadness.

He looked at you, his eyes reflecting a combination of desire and confusion. His hand, which had been caressing your cheek, dropped to his side. He knew exactly what you were referring to, but he remained silent, waiting for you to continue.

"We're only hurting ourselves," you continued, your voice shaking. "We're not together, but we're not just friends either. It's been so confusing, and I can't handle it anymore. I thought I could, but I can't."

He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair, his gaze fixed on anything but you. The atmosphere in the car shifted, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. You waited for him to respond, but the silence between you grew more suffocating with each passing second.

Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and resentment. "Then why are we here?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. The question hung in the air, heavy with implications and the weight of your shared history. It was a question you had asked yourself countless times, but hearing it from him felt different.

"I don't know," you replied honestly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know why we keep coming back to this, even though it's tearing us apart. Maybe it's because we're afraid of losing what we have, even if it's not clearly defined."

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still averted, his face etched with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "I get it but I don't want to get it. What's wrong with what we have going on?" You took a moment to gather your thoughts, searching for the right words to convey the storm of emotions swirling inside you. Your heart ached as you met his gaze, seeing the longing and confusion mirrored in his eyes.

"Y'know what's wrong with us." you said, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and aching. "You have somebody. You hell we both knew this shouldn't have been more than a one-time thing."

His expression hardened at your words, and a flicker of anger, flashed across his face. It was a painful truth that neither of you could deny any longer. "You don't think I know that. Every time I think I'm done with whatever this is.....I find myself back here with you. Kissing you, making love to you and never regretting it. But somehow I feel as though I messed it up somehow. It's greedy of me to want you when I have someone else," he continued, his voice tinged with self-reproach. "I can't keep hurting her like this, and I can't keep hurting myself either."

A heavy silence settled in the car as his words hung in the air. The truth of the situation weighed heavily on both of you, casting a shadow over the intense connection you shared. It was a bittersweet realization that what you had was not sustainable or fair to anyone involved.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to gently touch his hand, seeking solace in the final moments of this bittersweet encounter. "I don't want to hurt anymore either," you said, your voice filled with raw emotion. "We deserve better than this, and it's time for both of us to find that."

With that, you leaned in for one last lingering kiss, a farewell to the passion and longing that had defined your complicated connection. It was a farewell to what could have been but never was, and a farewell to the pain and confusion that had consumed you both.

As you pulled away, you mustered a weak smile, hoping to convey a sense of acceptance and closure. "Take care of yourself," you said softly. "And maybe, one day, we'll find the happiness we've been searching for."

He nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You too," he whispered. With a heavy heart, you opened the car door and stepped out into the night, leaving behind the echoes of what could have been. As you walked away, you couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the end. The end of a one time thing.