#I’ve been waiting to do this since middle school I’m in college now it’s finally time

[thevillainswhore]

A Forbidden Invitation

Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.

Warnings: Age gap, flashback, betrayal of friendship, manipulation, coercion, reader has severe daddy issues and self esteem problems, derogatory names, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, kissing, nipple play, blowjob, throat fucking, choking, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, squirting.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne

“Come on, babe!” Rebecca whined at the edge of your bed. “You’re telling me a weekend away from this shithole doesn’t sound good?” 

It had been a whole hour of your friend begging you to come back home with her for your midterm break and while you usually had the patience of a saint, it was difficult to keep composed as she refused to back down to your unacceptable reasoning.

You sighed, finally closing your laptop with an inwards huff and coming to terms that you would not be getting any more work done. Blowing out a breath, you leveled your gaze onto her. 

“Becs,” you treaded carefully, mindful of her feelings. “It’s very sweet of you. But, I really need to get my work finished.” Rebecca’s face fell sullen and you rushed to explain. “I just like my time alone, y'know? I concentrate better.”

Her brunette hair fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. This girl really knew how to put on a show and you playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatics. But as she lifted her head with a pout and her wide, shining ocean blues, you knew you were done for. 

Oh no. The puppy eyes.

“Hey!” You pointed at her. “No—stop that! I’m not changing my mind.” 

The intensity of her stare only worsened while she slowly gained on you. “But what am I gonna tell my Dad when he asks when you’re not there?” 

“Wait.” Clarity hit you then and you held your hand up to stop your friend in her tracks. With a glare you questioned, “Did you already say I was coming?” 

The guilty twitch of her eye said it all. “Maybe—“

“Becca!” 

“I couldn’t help it!” she swore. “My dad invited you, I couldn’t tell him no.” 

“He invited me?” you asked, surprised. 

“Yeah. The day we met, he called to see how I was doing—asked if I had made any new friends.” 

She shrugged. “We’ve moved around a lot ever since I can remember and trying to fit in somewhere…” Her voice suddenly grew quiet as she solemnly whispered, “I’ve never had a real friend before. You’re the only one who’s been able to stick around for so long and he really wants to meet you.”

The frustration embedded in you faded out to make way for the sudden ache in your heart. To your knowledge, Rebecca was a new student who transitioned to your college in the middle of the recent school year. Both of you had a couple of classes together and the first time you ever saw her still reigned fresh in your mind. 

The doors to the auditorium crashed open as she stumbled in late and out of breath to her first class. Strands of her brown hair fell from the messy bun on the top of her head and her cheeks coloured bright red; it pained you to watch her embarrassment as a room of over a hundred stared at her, along with the professor. And so began your friendship when you rushed out of your seat to help her with her huge stack of books, ushering her to the back to sit next to you. 

Since then the two of you had been inseparable. Rebecca was a genuine, lovely girl — sweet and a breath of fresh air to your college life. She never failed to let you know how appreciative she was to your kindness of friendship, so even though you had only known her for a short while, it felt as though she was a true friend; one who would be staying around for a while.

Sighing in defeat, there was no way you could decline the offer after hearing she had been gushing over you to her Dad. “Okay, okay—Fine. I’ll come— AH!”

You squealed as she leapt onto you, knocking you back against your mattress as she profusely thanked you while vibrating with joy. The giggles and uncontrolled laughter that filled your room masked the unexplainable dread knotted in your stomach. But not wanting to tarnish Rebecca’s excitement, you let go of your worries for the time being. 

Going to the club alone wasn’t an activity you made a habit out of; you understood the dangers of your vulnerability to men who couldn’t take a hint. 

However, that summer night — a hazy memory now in the present — forbade common sense and instead, threw it out of the window. Not to be seen again until you woke up the next day. 

The stress of the week had gotten too much for you; too many assignments needing to be handed in at once, your parents bombarding you with passive aggressive texts about their ongoing disappointment with you and the cherry on top of it all, you had caught your boyfriend cheating on you with the girl he had sworn you had nothing to worry about. 

So of course, that week in particular had tested you. But instead of moping around your dorm room, your mind unhelpfully persisted with the motion to get shitfaced drunk and allow future you to worry about your problems. In the moment, you thought that to be your most genius idea of the week — letting your hair down in a sweaty nightclub around people you didn’t know and not caring about the consequences sounded perfect. 

In hindsight, it was probably one of your most beautiful mistakes. 

You remembered it all clearly. The newfound freedom of not giving a fuck, the humid air with the bass of the speakers invading your ears — every small detail added to the atmosphere as you were in your own world in the middle of the dancefloor, erotically swaying your hips side to side and running your hands through your hair. 

The short cocktail dress you had worn to make yourself feel good illuminated your curves while also giving you the liberty to dance without limit to your movement. You wanted to forget for a while — go crazy and let loose. 

Which was why the stunning pair of cerulean eyes that pinned you down across the room from the bar was your ticket to a night of fun — everything you needed at the moment in time. From your vantage point, the stranger looked to be in his forties, but in the best way possible. His form was built, the right amount of muscle carrying his frame and his grown out brown locks tucked behind his ears. No one had ever looked more sexy to you. 

Aware of being the center of attention to an attractive stranger, you smoothed your hands down from your hair, seductively over your neck, teasing your glowing skin and finally to your chest. You bit your lip when his hungry stare that soaked your lace underwear focused on your tits, overspilling from your dress and you watched, smug and exhilarated as the unknown man tightened his fist against his tight trouser cladded thighs. 

Through the whole night, the delightful burn of his stare never left you. A brand was marked into your skin; a warning to everyone else that you were spoken for — only for the night at least. 

If you ordered a drink at the bar, the stranger was a couple of seats down from you, greedily lapping up your figure. If you were sitting in the smokers area, catching your breath and cooling down, he was there too, leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette with his attention solely focused on you, no matter the amount of women who were not so discreetly throwing themselves over him. 

Even at the end of the night, as you once again danced to the deep bass of the beat among everyone else, he watched you from his own corner, still as enamored with you as the first time your eyes met. 

Adrenaline spiked your veins. It was addicting to be the object of someone’s desires, to be seen. 

You had only spoken through heated looks and loaded glances, but he was unlike any man you had encountered before. Mysterious and cryptic. You were just as lost in him as he was into you and you couldn’t have cared less that he was obviously older than you. It was what you needed. He was what you needed. 

The buzz from the few shots you had taken reached their peak and you decided it was now or never to claim what you so rightfully deserved. 

With a bounce in your step, you strutted in your heels through the crowd of people, never taking your eyes off your prize and him neither. He licked his lips as you closed the distance, stopping just before you bumped into the tip of his shoes. 

“Listen,” you spoke over the music, determined and resolute. “I’m gonna skip past the pleasantries and bullshit.” The allured stranger raised his eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me and I definitely want you. So, do you want to get out of here?” 

Your bravery faltered slightly as you realised in his close proximity how direct you had been. While you were almost certain this stranger was as attracted to you as you were to him, the tiny seed of doubt that a mature man wouldn’t want to hook up with someone as young as you revoked your liquid courage. 

But that worry soon disappeared when he gave you a fierce once over now you were up close. A raging storm of lust and desire clouded his beautiful eyes, wild and desperate to get his hands on you. Your breaths came in quick and heavy as he smirked so sinfully. The bastard knew he held so much power in the palm of his hands when his body towered over yours, the difference in size between you not hard to miss. There you could tell the fun had already begun. 

The rest of the club became a blur as he brought his mouth down to your ear. You felt each slow and steady breath against the curve of your neck and you were sure even in the darkness, he noticed the  goosebumps that littered your skin. “All I need you to know tonight is my name.” His voice was as sexy as you had imagined, a deep, rasped husk that made your legs weak. But it was his next words that almost made you collapse. “Because it’s the only thing you’re gonna be screamin’ for the rest of the night, darlin’.” 

Your mind grew foggy at the next sequence of events. The hustle of getting into a car and fiercely making out in the backseat until you arrived at an upscale hotel. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were waiting impatiently at the reception desk and the next you were stumbling into a lavish hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other as items of clothing flew across the room in your haste to get naked. 

The two of you bumped into the array of furniture in the hallway, the thought of tearing away from each other's lips unbearable. Bucky, you learned was his name, was an amazing kisser, his tongue gently teased yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair and he kept a firm grip of your cheeks like he was desperate to keep you close. 

“Fuck,” he slurred between kisses. “You’re so— fuckin’— gorgeous.” His eagerness to keep his lips against yours while complimenting you spun you for a loop, unfamiliar to this kind of intensity.  

The clink of dog tags were the culprit to halt your motions while he kept on kissing you, traveling down the slope of your neck and to your shoulders to bite your skin. As he was occupied, you took your chance to admire his physique. For a man his age, he was jacked — a toned stomach with several abs sharp enough to cut and two deliciously slender grooves running underneath his trousers to a bulge big enough for you to let an unhinged moan escape. 

His body was sickening, he truly had no business to look as good as he did for a man his age. But like hell were you going to complain when all the boys at college disappointed you time and time again. The bar was low and this man had already exceeded your expectations, he was only supposed to be an idea fit for your wildest fantasies. Yet, there he was, real and existing. 

Time was of the essence and you wasted none of it as you ripped yourself out of his hold, left in only your underwear, and dropped to your knees without pause to hurriedly remove his belt. 

“Oh, shit.” He gulped. “Baby— baby—you don’t have to do that—“ 

You hushed his assurances and batted away his hands that tried to pull you up without real effort. “No, I don’t have to. But I want to.” Fluttering your eyes, you looked up at him and slyly smirked. “Let me suck your cock. You just worry about having a good time.” With a wink, you unlooped the expensive leather through the buckle and dropped it to the floor, soon after working to unzip his fly and rid him of the offending trousers that stood in your way. 

The material slid down his thick thighs and he was left stood in his underwear, black briefs tented from his hard cock. A frenzied need to soothe the urge to get your mouth around him took the reins when you instantly nuzzled into his crotch.

“Fuck me, you’re a needy little slut aren’t you?” He wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his fist, controlling your movements. Though, there was no reason to, eager as you were. You would have done anything he asked. 

You did do anything he asked. 

You hummed while suckling the tip of his cock over the material of his underwear, “Mhm.” He threw his head back and groaned like a wild beast while you admired the wet patch growing on the fabric before your very eyes. It was unhinged — raw. But your stranger of the night didn’t seem to care, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back from pleasure. 

Unable to control your burst of desire, you suddenly shucked his briefs down. 

Your mouth fell open at the sheer size of him, an audible gasp echoed over the silence of the marble walls. Never had you seen a dick as pretty or big before and the drool that had gathered in your mouth began to leak out the side of your mouth. 

You were aching for him. 

With a cocky smile, the man tapped under your chin twice to direct your head upwards. “Up here, darlin’—I want those pretty eyes on me when you take my cock.” 

Immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for him, he chuckled breathily at the crazed look in your dilated pupils. “Well, aren’t you just the biggest whore I ever did see.” Grabbing his cock and pressing the tip onto your tongue, he began to slide it forward. “Good fuckin’ job I like ‘em that way. Now open up wide so I can fuck your throat, baby—”

“Babe!” 

Jolting out of your memory infused dream with a shriek, you span your head around to Rebecca in the drivers seat of her car. “Oh, there you are!” she hissed, teasingly. “I called for you like ten times. Where the fuck did you go?” 

You swallowed the dryness coating your throat and hastily sat up. A hot sweat had settled over your skin and you immediately grabbed your water bottle from the footwell and chugged it down. 

Once you had cooled down, you glanced back at your friend, cringing at the raised eyebrow that meant you weren’t getting out of an explanation. “I, uh— I’m sorry I didn’t—um—get much sleep last night,” you lamely replied. 

The unimpressed expression on her face told you she didn’t believe you. But you were saved when her face suddenly lit up with glee. “Eek! We’re finally here!” 

Had a three hour drive really gone by that fast? 

Looking out the car window, your eyes widened when you saw an estate, guarded by iron gates around the whole property, surrounded by acres upon acres of land. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when Rebecca began animatedly speaking with someone by the toll station. 

Who the fuck was this girl? 

Eventually, she pulled up to the house, passing the stone driveway with a water fountain in the middle and cut the engine off. “Come on, you. My Dad’s expecting us.” 

You were in a daze while you opened your door, stepping out the car and taking in every inch of the property. You would have never guessed your friend, the most down to earth and humble person on campus, had a lavish lifestyle with all the trimmings. It was clear she didn’t feel the need to brag about her privilege and her nonchalant attitude about it only baffled you more.

The doors to the mansion suddenly swung open and what you could only have presumed to be a butler promptly rushed towards the car. “Miss Barnes, how lovely to see you again.” 

Rebecca scoffed and hugged the man without hesitation. “Don’t be silly. You know you don’t call me that.” 

Even with her sweetness, he remained as professional then ever and brushed by her to pick up her bags. “Of course, Miss Barnes. Your father is out at the minute, but he has left you a gift by the entryway table.” 

With a high pitched scream, your friend ran inside without looking back. It was hard not to smile at her carefree ways and trying to shake the deepening apprehensiveness from the moment Rebecca invited you, you rounded to the boot of the car to grab your luggage. 

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” The butler immediately stepped forward and swiftly picked up your bags along with Rebecca’s with ease. 

“Oh, no that’s okay, honestly! I can bring them in no problem!” You tried detesting, not used to any kind of special treatment.

But it was no use as he kindly insisted, “There is no need to worry. Please relax and join your friend, I believe there is a gift for you too.” 

Sighing, you yielded and eventually followed in your friend’s steps, twiddling your fingers anxiously while you walked into the foyer of the mansion. 

Carefully crafted marble walls with what you could only guess were decorated with millions of dollars worth of extravagant paintings, lined up neatly up to the grand, spiral staircase where a round oak table sat in front of it. 

You instantly spotted two gift baskets, difficult to miss as they were both filled to the brim with an assortment of treats and bright pink tissue paper. 

Rebecca was already busy appreciating hers, taking care to read the note her father had presumably left her and gushing over the copious amount of sweet treats, new nightwear and a cashmere blanket, like this wasn’t a regular occurrence to her. 

However, it was surprising to see you had also been spoiled; all of your favourites, intricately placed in the hamper. Your eye caught the note addressed with your name on and hesitantly, you reached out for it and unfolded the card — a simple yet polite message inside. 

I can only apologise that I wasn’t here upon your arrival. 

I’ve heard great things about you from my Becs and I sincerely look forward to meeting you when I’m home. 

Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy the contents of your gift basket. 

J.B.B.

“Oh, he’s the best,” Rebecca swooned, hugging the white blanket to her chest. “He said he got called into work for a couple of hours so he should be back tonight. 

You exhaled, flitting your eyes over your new gifts. The information eased your nerves slightly — you were never any good at meeting parents, whether that be of friends or partners. The dynamic of a happy household wasn’t one you had experience with and the idea of ruining first impressions caused an anxiety you didn’t particularly care to revisit often. Especially now that Rebecca had come into your life — a friend you could absolutely see yourself building a strong bond with. 

Realising you had been silent for too long, you spoke up, “Your Dad is very kind.” Your fingers inched forward and ran over the soft material of your very own matching cashmere blanket, it felt like you were touching a cloud. From the corner of your eye, you caught your friend suddenly looking sheepish. “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning towards her. 

“I’m sorry about all of this.” She vaguely gestured her hand up in the air, to which you guessed she meant the sheer amount of money that screamed in your face. “I didn’t warn you and I should have. It's just that—” Rebecca’s eyes darted down and she crossed her arms over her stomach, shrinking in on herself. 

You stepped closer, rubbing your hand over her arm for comfort. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 

She took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to you and shrugging. “I didn’t know if your intentions would be good if you knew about the money.” 

“Oh, Becs.” Your heart ached at the obvious trauma from her past. Squeezing her arm, you attempted to uplift the sullen mood with some playful teasing. “I became your friend because I couldn’t get rid of you. Although, now it doesn’t hurt to know your family is loaded.” 

Reluctantly, the smile grew on her face, turning into a bright grin she no longer could hide. “You’re awful.” 

“Tell me about it.” You winked, nudging her hip with your own. “Seriously, you’re a good person and I’m your friend because I want to be. I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re rich.” 

The muscles of her body relaxed and she quickly pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, babe.” 

“It’s nothing, silly.” You squeezed her one last time before breaking away. 

Rebecca sniffled, blinking away the onslaught of tears that were close to falling before cheerfully grabbing her basket. “Come on then, let’s go set up and order some pizza.” 

Picking up your own basket, you followed your friend up to her room.

The few hours spent working on your assignments, eating pizza and listening to music flew by. Spending so much time with Rebecca actually turned out to be fun. You usually spent all your free time by yourself, respiting into a hermit because of your inability to enjoy friendly companionship.  

But it was to your surprise that you found yourself not regretting agreeing to the trip. The thought of being back at your dorm, wasting your night away by sleeping, watching trash tv and succumbing to the vibator in your bedside drawer begging you to relive a night of passion now seemed sad as you glanced at your friend and the corner of your lip curled up. 

That bubble burst quickly when a shout coming from the foyer echoed up to the open bedroom door. “Rebecca, sweetheart—I’m home!” 

Instantly, her eyes widened and she shoved the laptop she was using off her lap at once, squealing with joy before leaping off the bed and running downstairs. “Dad!” 

Your fingers twitched over the keyboard of your own laptop in anticipation, looking towards the door and sighing in resignation. 

Decidingly, you thought it was best to give your friend a moment with her father. Not at all because you wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. 

But as a couple of minutes went by, the tick of the pink clock on the desk getting louder and louder by the second, you figured your absence would go noticed and so you begrudgingly shut the lid of your laptop to slowly begin making your way out of the room. 

As you reached the balcony at the top of the staircase, you looked down just as Rebecca hugged her Dad tightly. An ache panged in your heart.

You weren’t close with your parents; neither of them checked up on you or asked when you’d be coming home to see them. They only contacted you when they felt like spewing their badly-hidden resentment towards you and the hurt you thought you had buried long ago began to make its way front and center. 

You shook your head and cleared your throat. You wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t tarnish your stay with your friend over something so silly — or be scared to meet her parent. So with a deep breath, you glided down the steps. 

Rebecca’s Dad had his back turned to you, which meant you only saw his thick head of hair, tucked neatly behind his ears and the muscles of his back straining against the white dress shirt he wore. 

You were unable to pinpoint the exact reason a tingle started to form in your lower stomach, the sensation extremely familiar by now, but you immediately scolded yourself and pinched the skin of your thigh to snap out of whatever mood had caused such depravity. This was your friend’s father; get it together.  

As you reached the bottom of the steps, your friend’s eyes locked onto yours and her whole face beamed. “Dad,” she gasped excitedly. “I want you to meet my friend.” 

You steeled your features; the warmest smile you could manage with the straightest posture possible. 

Time stood still when Rebecca stepped back to let her Dad turn around. Your emotions were all under control and you finally felt like you could do this. 

But that was until your eyes met and your face dropped. Those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, you would remember them anywhere. 

Bile began to rise in your throat when he faced you completely. Suddenly, you were thrown back to that forbidden night that all started with the same man across the room by the bar, watching you like you were his last meal. Bucky.

You held back a loud gasp, aware that Rebecca was witnessing the interaction. Though, your blood ran cold when his lips lifted into a grin, one you knew a little too well. 

The palms of your hands were clammy with sweat and your heart hammered inside your chest. You weren’t sure how to play this, the stifling silence had already been stretched out ridiculously. 

Rebecca’s voice broke the quiet with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry Dad, we’re a little stumped. Exams have been kicking our asses lately and the drive over was long.”

Guilt crippled you then. While you could never have known the one night stand who invaded your thoughts daily would turn out to be your best friend's father, it still didn’t change anything — you fucked her Dad.

He finally took his eyes away from you to swing an arm around his daughter and laughed in fondness. “Don’t worry, I understand, Becs—you girls must be exhausted.” He then lifted his gaze back to you. “You must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. He doesn’t remember you? The lack of expression or recognition instilled a sense of hope within you. 

Maybe he had forgotten about your night together — the low lighting of the club you met him at and the haze of alcohol hindering your senses as he took you to a hotel created a perfection concoction of forgetfulness you rationalised. 

Eventually, deciding to act oblivious and hope for the best, you stammered up the courage to introduce yourself. “M—Mr Barnes. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”

“Oh none of that, please.” A shiver raced down your spine, memories of begs and whimpers taunting your mind. “I’m James. But call me Bucky, darlin’.” 

It took all the strength you had to trap the moan on the verge of escaping your lips. Yep, you definitely remembered that name. 

Rebecca’s Dad stuck out his hand in front of you. “I’m very happy to meet you.” Your eyes darted between his hand and his face and then to your friend. Steadying your breath, you hesitantly placed your hand into his and felt his fingers tighten against yours. He shook your hand, his thumb gliding over your skin. 

Tightening your lips in anguish, you replied, “V—Very happy to meet you, too.” 

Bucky’s touch lingered against yours until you snatched your hand out of his when Rebecca hopped giddily and clapped her hands. “Oh, this is great! This weeks going to be so fun!”  

You didn’t return the sentiment. This week was going to be your worst nightmare come to life — your biggest mistake being dangled on a string in front of you, only reminding you what a piece of shit you were. 

“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna catch up on a little more work, so I’ll come find you later.” Your friend grabbed your hand that was limped by your side and started to pull you back up the stairs. 

“Hard workers, ain’t you?” he laughed. “If you need anything let me know.” 

“Thanks Dad, will do!” Rebecca shouted back down the stairs. 

When you had reached the first landing balcony, you couldn’t help sneaking one more tiny glance at the one night stand you never thought you would see again. But your heart skipped a beat as you saw him already looking up at you and he slid his hand out of his suit pocket to wave at you before you disappeared. 

You were sitting on Rebecca’s bed, waiting for her return when the inevitable happened. 

An emergency she called it, when she slipped her feet into her shoes and swiftly threw on her hoodie, claiming an issue with her neighbour she absolutely needed to handle. 

You had tried insisting on going with her, an extra pair of hands to help out. But she instantly pushed away your pleas, telling you not to worry and to focus on your work. That was Becca, a true sweetheart. But you wanted to strangle her then, scold her for leaving you in uncharted territory by yourself. 

Nervous and on edge, you couldn’t concentrate on your assignment for the longest time. You consistently made quick glances to the open door of your friend’s bedroom, listened for footsteps upon the landing. Soon enough though, your nerves died down when nothing happened and it allowed you to focus on your laptop, finally becoming fixated on your assignment. 

The only unusual thing that caught you off guard by yourself was the sudden heat of the house. You had built up a sweat in your hoodie and, unable to handle it, you took the fleeced material off in a swift flourish, leaving you in a tank top and shorts. 

Other than that, you powered through, happy to be finally getting somewhere with your work. You weren’t even sure how much time had passed since Rebecca had left and the worry of how long it was taking her to come home slipped your mind. 

Your guard was down while you hummed to the low music, lying on your stomach, back facing the door and typing away as you swung your legs in the air.

“I see you’re working hard.” 

Yelping in fright, you almost fell off the bed, the deep grunt of Bucky’s smooth tone scaring you from the sanctuary of his daughter's room. You whipped your head around to see your friend’s Dad leaned against the doorway dressed in a tight black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his dog tags rested against his chest.  

The sight was a difficult one to swallow. 

It was instinct to turn around so you were facing him as you raced to shuffle up Rebecca’s bed — a danger, your mind cautioned, to have your back turned to a wolf. 

He held his hands out in front of him as he walked towards you, as though taming a frightened lamb. “Hey there, it’s only me. No need to be scared.” 

“S—Sorry. I was a little lost in my assignment.” You apologised as you scrambled to gather all of your supplies together, desperate to gain some space from Bucky. “I think I’m done for the night, though. So I’ll just go downstairs and wait for Becca—“ 

“Hold up.” Bucky sat on his daughter's bed, leaving little to no proximity between you to effectively trap you in. “There’s no rush now, is there?” 

Exhaling shakily, you stuttered, “N—No— um, not at all, Mr Barnes—“

“Bucky,” he corrected gently. 

“Yes, B—Bucky.” You struggled to test his name on your tongue, not having spoken it since your night together. “I’m so sorry.” 

Rebecca’s dad just laughed, amused at your rambling. 

A tension, seemingly only one-way, swallowed you whole, threatening to drown you. It was impossible to hold direct eye contact with his ocean blues eyes, ones that ran vivid through your mind in your nights alone filled with heated memories and your biggest — now new favourite — vibrator.

His voice snapped you out of lust filled haze. “Rebecca shouldn’t be too long. Poor old neighbour lost his wife a couple of years back and Becs—the angel she is—goes over to help him when he needs it.” 

You could see it. She was the sort to not think twice about helping anyone in need and the thought eased your mind. “Well,” you smiled, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. “That’s very kind of her.” 

“That’s my Becs,” Mr Barnes proudly grinned. 

The room grew silent once again. Picking your fingernails, you fought to calm the cold, harsh anxiety eating away at you. It still seemed as though Bucky couldn’t remember you, but a nagging feeling in your gut wouldn’t let that settle your nerves. 

“I just thought I’d come check on you anyway, sweetheart. Y'know, make sure you’ve settled in nicely for the week.” He smiled while placing his palm on the bed in the small space between you, leaning his weight against it as he got closer. 

“Y—Yeah.” You cleared your throat before continuing, keeping your answers short. “Mhm, I’m all good, thank you.” You smiled tightly, hoping Bucky would take the hint to leave, but alas your luck was short. 

“What you been workin’ on then, darlin’?” He nodded to your laptop resting on your legs. 

“Oh, not much.” You downplayed. “Just a written piece, nothing major— no wait!—” Bucky cut you off as he abruptly swiped your laptop from your lap, the cold ring on his pinky finger brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. Before you could even think of hastily clambering for it back, he already had your laptop open and sitting on his thick thighs as he began reading. 

“A psychology major, huh?” Bucky smirked, eyes scattering across the screen to take your assignment in. “Impressive. You’re a very clever girl.” 

Heat quickly rose up your neck, warming your cheeks as you were rendered speechless. A heavy ache between your legs left you squeezing your thighs together because of his praise — his words sent you straight back to the night against the hotel’s glassed windows he had brutally fucked you against while worshipping how much of a good girl you were for taking all of him. 

Quickly, you shook the intense thought from your mind, scolding yourself for letting it happen an umpteenth time. “Really, it’s nothing,” you said.

Bucky stopped reading your work and looked at you intensely, enough to make you squirm. “You really shouldn’t put yourself down like that.” Placing your laptop on the floor, he smoothly shuffled closer to you. You couldn’t help but stare at the hand he moved into your vicinity. His touch as he laid it on the naked skin of your thigh sent a thrill through your whole body. “Hasn’t anyone ever praised you before, huh?” 

His intricate voice, delicate and gentle soothed you and excited you both in equal measure. The previous alarm bells blaring in your head were non-existent when he squeezed the meat of your thigh so tenderly with his large hands. “I— um— I don’t—”

“Nobody told you how proud they are of you?” 

Your eyes glossed over as the shield you had built for yourself started to dismantle. Bucky was right. You were lonely and tired and you worked so hard for little reward. Your parents didn’t tell you they were proud of you, nobody ever told you how good you had been. 

Bucky’s hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing over your lip. You melted into his touch too quickly. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”  

You willingly fell into a dangerous trap he had set out as your eyes fluttered closed. Your friend’s Dad’s caress was so familiar, even after so long — his scent intoxicating and his voice a melody to the scrambled mess in your head. 

It didn’t occur to you then, the issue with Bucky inching more forward, almost until his chest was plastered to yours. The thought of his strange comfortability with his daughter’s friend wasn’t worthy of space in your head. 

For once you weren’t thinking of Rebecca.

Until the slam of the front door ricocheted up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’m home, Dad!”

Your eyes shot open and you gave yourself a quick second to get lost in Bucky’s gaze before you leaped up in panic. 

You were half expecting him to also worry, to quickly dart out of the room. But instead he carelessly stood up from the bed along with you and combed his hair back with his fingers. 

“Dad! Where are you?” 

Pure terror. The fear of being caught in a compromising position with Bucky by your friend was overwhelming as your hands shook. Rebecca’s footsteps began to sound over the stairs and you closed your eyes, waiting for chaos. 

It was only a couple of seconds after your stomach jumped in frightful anticipation when you felt her presence join you. “Babe, have you— What the fuck are you doing?” 

Your stomach lurched. Slowly squinting an eye open, you saw your friend standing in the doorway looking at you in confusion. You steadily tracked your sight across the room, expecting to see Bucky. To your surprise, he wasn’t there anymore. 

You opened your eyes fully, the fear easing away some though your nerves were still alight with edginess. “I don’t— I don’t know.” 

“Um, okay?” Becca said wearily. “Anyway, have you seen my Dad, I wanted to talk to him before we head to bed.” 

This was a chance, you inwardly thought. To tell your best friend about everything while your friendship could still be repaired. 

But the probability of disclosing your secret and potentially ruining Rebecca’s life won out. “No. I haven’t seen him.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue and shame clawed its way back to the surface. 

Your friend smiled brightly and shrugged. “No problem, I’ll go find him. I’ll be back to work on assignments in a minute.” She exited her room in search of her Dad. 

You crumpled to the bed and hung your head in your hands, exhaling deeply. You’re a shitty person, the voice in your head supplied unhelpfully. 

After a while, Rebecca had returned to her room and for the rest of the evening, you both worked on your respective assignments; her chattering away happily while you stared at the screen of your laptop blankly, adding nothing to the open document until the two of you decided to call it a night.

Unexpectedly though, instead of getting ready for bed together, your friend showed you to a guest room. 

“Becca,” you laughed. “I thought I’d be staying in your room for the night. You know—with you?” 

“Well, I told my Dad you liked your own space and he set up one of the guest rooms for you. It's no biggie.” She shrugged. 

Right. Because of course you wouldn’t be staying with her when there were an endless amount of spare bedrooms on the first floor alone. 

You cursed yourself in that moment, reliving your protests of spending the midterm break alone because of your need for space. 

“Are you sure?” You tried again, the vulnerability of being by yourself without the buffer of Rebecca taunting you. “We could have a sleepover! Watch movies and stay up late!”

But she just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Girl, I know you are dying for a minute to yourself—to relax and decompress.” Holding your hand, she softly laughed. “I practically begged you to come here and you agreed. You’ve been more kind to me in the minute we met than most of my old friends over the span of the years I knew them. So please, the least I could do is give you a break during the nights.” 

The guilt ate you alive; her selflessness and naturally good heart steadily chipping away at your conscience. Why the hell did she have to be so nice? 

Putting on your best smile, you tried to rid of the nasty voice spitting venom inside your head. You slept with her fucking Dad, you whore — you don’t deserve this. Outwardly, you said, “I don’t deserve this, Becs. It's too much.” A somewhat admittance of the truth; the full story you would take to the grave, if only to keep your friendship intact.

“Oh, hush. Of course you do.” She pushed you away playfully into your new room. “Now go freshen up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Clenching your hands in unexplained nerves, you wished her goodnight while she began to walk down the hall to her own room. “See you tomorrow, Becs.” The door closed with a click and you dropped your forehead against the wood with a loud thud. 

You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. It was only for a couple of days, and as long as you stayed close to Rebecca and was not left alone with her father, you could ignore your inner thoughts — the vile, disgusting voice that simultaneously begged you to to crawl on all fours to him like a desperate bitch and be ashamed of your sins.

It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Exhaustion from the events of a long day and a shower with the most luxurious products you had ever used assisted you with that and you whispered an internal gratitude to the fluffy pillows you laid your head on for helping you escape reality before you closed your eyes. 

However, you were awoken from your deep slumber when the rattle of your bedroom door knob interrupted your dreamless sleep. You had to fight the heaviness of your body as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a groan before you tried squinting through the darkness to no avail. 

The sudden thought of your friend coming to annoy you after all surprisingly made you crack a smile. “Becs?” you sleepily called out. 

The latch of the door clicked as it steadily creeped open and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s antics. “If you’re trying to scare me then ha ha—very funny, dork.” 

Your sight began to adjust, outlines and shadows soon becoming more clear but still a struggle to make out in the late hour.  

Though there was no response from your friend. Silence shrouded over the room with only your small breaths to be heard. 

You stared at the doorway expectedly, waiting for a response you wouldn’t get. “Becca?” you called out warily once more.

But that time, as the door clicked shut with a deafening loudness, a deep voice — one that definitely did not belong to your friend — answered. “Y’know, you look just as pretty as you did the night we met.” 

Cold dread had every muscle of your body locking up. It became clear then that it wasn’t Rebecca that had entered your room. More so a tall figure, clad in only his underwear and his dog tags.

“M—Mr Barnes?” your lips quivered with panic. “What— What are you doing?” 

Every clink of the metal around his neck haunted you with each step he made closer. You scrambled up towards the headboard, plastering yourself against the wood. 

Pointless when he sat beside you on the bed, bending his knee to lean one leg against your thigh. The feel of his bare skin against yours burned. 

“No need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “You know me, don’t you?” 

You gulped. Sudden dizziness blurred his face to your eyes and the deprivation of your sight made his touch all the more electrifying when he swept your hair to the side and kissed your shoulder. 

A shudder ran down your spine, the strap of your silk nightgown falling down your arm and stripping you of your only defense left against him. 

“Mr Barnes,” you tried again, more pleadingly. 

“What have I said about calling me that, hm? You know my name well enough by now, pretty girl. You’ve screamed it enough.” His tormenting laugh vibrated through you while he still peppered feather light kisses across your skin. 

You begged your body to move, for your hands to push him away and your voice to shout for Rebecca. Alas, you kept to your place, still as stone. 

“You can’t— you can’t be here,” you whispered shakily. 

Bucky smirked. “Oh really? Is this not my house, sweetheart?” Your nipples pebbled against the silk material covering them as his breath cascaded goosebumps over your skin in its trail. “Been tryin’ so hard to restrain myself since I saw you again this mornin’. But I can’t fuckin’ hold back anymore.” 

“You remember me,” you managed to choke out.

Bucky hummed, laving his tongue over the sweat building on your neck. “Like I could ever forget a girl like you.” 

The knot in your stomach tightened, each press of his lips over your body immobilising you further. Bucky knew who you were, from the moment your eyes connected in the foyer. The reality set in then — deep and unsettling and delicious, all at once. 

“I had to act like I didn’t know you, baby. Couldn’t have Rebecca finding out her only friend knows the taste of her Dad’s cock now, could I?” 

You felt sick. Your mind raged in war between a guilty conscience and your own pleasure. To give in would be evil, so horrendously sick and twisted.

A single tear dropped from your watery eyes and slowly rolled down your cheek, the sudden saltiness hitting Bucky’s tongue and making him groan. “Fuck, don’t tease me already, baby.” 

“She’s my friend,” you whimpered. “I can’t do this to her.” 

Bucky looked up, a soft expression on his face. “Oh, darlin’. I love her too, really.” His lip curled up then, a wolfish gleam in his eye. “But I can’t go another minute without touchin’ you.” 

Placing his forehead against yours, his hand traveled up from your thigh, all the way over your stomach until he reached your tits. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed when his forefinger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silk. “Doesn’t this feel good, hm? Doesn’t this feel right?”

Against your will, you released a high pitched keen. “Bucky.”

His chest rumbled in delight, a deep purr in your ear. However, your mind still bartered with itself, unrelenting in its inability to give in. “But what if Becca—?” 

“She doesn’t have to know a damn thing, baby.” Bucky turned his head and bit over the pulse of your neck. “It’ll be our dirty little secret.” 

Your head was filled with clouds, a fog smothering over any rational thought. Especially with the way Bucky began to sneakily slip the other strap of your nightgown down. He was mesmerising in his actions, his fragile touches that made you feel special. 

You so desperately wanted to feel special. 

Just like he made you feel back in the summer. 

The evil voice in your mind hissed at you — dirty, disgusting, whore. The hopeful one became louder — lonely, unloved, tired. 

You were so fucking tired. 

The fight in you left. You were a goner, a sacrificial lamb while you tilted your head back to reveal more of you. The walls you so carefully crafted came crumbling down pathetically. 

Bucky didn’t waste any time taking advantage of that. “There’s my good girl. Let it happen, baby.” 

The moon shone through the window, becoming the only source of light in the darkness and its glow blanketed over the same features as the strobe lights in the club back in summer. 

Fate hadn’t been on your side from the moment it cruelly introduced Becca into your life when it had already manifested your demise with her Dad. So who were you to try and change it?

Letting your body take control over your mind, you turned your head, grabbed Bucky by the back of his neck and crashed your lips to his — finally giving into temptation. His answering moan of shock and arousal made you more daring and you snuck your tongue into his mouth too. 

Bucky ripped away, a string of saliva connected between your lips. “You still wear the same fuckin’ cherry chapstick,” he groaned, before squeezing your breast tightly. “Fuck—go lay your head at the end of the bed for me, sweetheart. Want that shit around my cock.” 

With urgency, you rushed over to the edge of the mattress, lying on your back and making sure your head hung over the bed. Your view was upside down, warped while you watched Bucky stroll towards you with bated breath. 

He stood behind you, all menacing and tall — you had never felt smaller in your life, though you liked the feeling with him. 

The veins on Bucky’s forearm bulged from his skin as he brought his hand to your throat. Lightly, he caressed his thumb over the junction of your neck. “Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my dick last time?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the bob of it transcending under his large hand. “I— I do.” 

He smirked down at you. “You gonna make me proud again, baby?” 

Your eyes glazed over with neediness. “Please—Want to make you proud of me.” 

His bright white teeth gleamed with his predatory smile. “Stick out your tongue for me, darlin’.” 

Doing as he asked, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, uncaring to how easily you obeyed his commands. 

“Good job, sweetheart.” Bucky brought his hands up to his underwear and with a swift pull, his black briefs fell to the ground. 

You preened like a cat at the sight of his cock bobbing into your view. The light casting in from the moon glistened over the underside of his dick, the purple head pulsing harshly. 

Bucky pumped his cock slowly twice, a premature pearl of cum gathering at the head. “You ready for me, baby?” 

Nodding your head hungrily up at him, you whined, “Uh-huh.”

Bucky positioned himself closer to you, your head hung between his spread legs. You waited in anticipation for him to inch forward and slide his length down your throat, but instead he tapped the head of his cock against your wet tongue. 

The resounding slap caused you to rub your thighs together in agony, the feel of his heavy weight divine. 

“Aw, babygirl,” Bucky teased. “You missed me that much you can’t help those tingles already, huh?” He tapped his length against you again and his eyes fluttered. “There’s more where that came from.” 

The desperation to wrap your lips around his cock was overbearing and so you sealed your mouth around him, suckling the tip with a refound hunger. 

“Holy fuck.” Bucky’s legs trembled at the shock of your sudden confidence. “Oh, just like that, sweetheart.” 

You swiped your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, moaning rabidly at his salty taste. Bucky’s natural musk was addictive and you tried to shuffle your body closer to take more of his length, but he quickly grabbed your hips to stop you. “Woah—slow down there. Daddy’s the one runnin’ the show tonight, not you.” 

You let go of his cock with a pop. “Please, Daddy.” Your pleas were breathless as you panted for air. “Want all of you—please!” 

Leaning over until his lips brushed yours, Bucky kissed you deeply before murmuring, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll make sure you take all of me.” 

He stood back up promptly, giving you whiplash in your current state. “Now open that slutty little mouth. Wide.” 

Hardly giving you time to do as he asked, Bucky shoved his entire length down your throat. Your eyes widened as you gagged around him. 

“Shh, baby. You’re okay, relax.” Opposite to his brutal force, he brushed softly over your chin. “You can handle me. You’ve done it before, right?” 

Breathing through your nose calmly was a challenge with his thick cock limiting your intake of oxygen. But you wanted so badly to fulfill Bucky’s wishes. So closing your eyes and willing yourself not to panic, you focused your breaths. 

“There we go.” The pride in his tone was exhilarating. “Knew you could do it, darlin’.”

Bucky kept still for a few more seconds, allowing you to get used to the intrusion of the new position before he began to ease his cock out of your throat and gently push back in. “Yeah, you remember my cock don’t you, sweetheart? Your tight little throat feels so fuckin’ good.” 

Your hands came up to grip the back of his firm thighs to ground yourself. You felt every inch of him glide down until his tip reached your windpipe and you coughed violently, sputtering around him.

“That’s right, baby. Choke on me.” Bucky upped the speed of his pace then and your nails dug deep into his flesh. 

While his actions turned harsh and forceful, your pleasure grew and with your squirming, the skirt of your nightgown began to ride up your body without you realising. 

Bucky did though, almost immediately. You couldn’t see how his eyes snapped towards the bare skin of your thighs and lower stomach and to his pleasant surprise, you weren't wearing any panties. 

The sound of his laughter while his hips continued to pump into you made your nerves spike. 

“My sweet girl,” he cooed short windedly. “You must’ve known I was coming, huh? Not wearing anything under that cute little outfit.”

You squealed, unable to say anything while sucking his cock, though the vibrations of your moans made Bucky’s thrusts falter. 

“Fuck—shit, baby. I almost forgot how good you are at that,” he laughed. His hands traveled tantalising over your stomach until he reached the bottom of your nightgown. “Let Daddy see what you’ve been hidin’ from me.” 

The silk material unpeeled from your skin as Bucky lifted it over your breasts. Your full body was on display for him and you fidgeted bashfully under his scrutiny. Your sight was compromised, your movements were limited and your thoughts were scrambled. 

“Oh, darlin’. You’re a doll, ain’t you?” Bucky’s rough and calloused hands smoothed over your bare skin. He palmed your breasts roughly, just once before inching down to your lower stomach. “Now, you gonna show me what I really wanna see?” 

It didn’t take you a second to spread your legs for him, the cold air hitting your soaked cunt. 

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Open those gorgeous thighs for me, I wanna see how wet my baby girl is.” 

Bucky leaned over your body, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but your body soon jolted at the feel of his finger sliding through your folds. 

You screamed around his dick and tapped his thighs for a breather, which he so graciously granted. As soon as he tilted his hips to let his cock fall out of your mouth, you gasped loudly. “Oh my god— Bucky, I can’t. I can’t I can’t, please—” 

Your hoarse voice was cut off when Bucky wrapped his free hand around your throat. “Shut the fuck up and take it.” 

His cock laid against your cheek while he looked into your eyes. He forewent easing you into it and instead forced two of his fingers into your cunt. You were about to cry out until he shoved his cock down your throat again with a sigh. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to keep you quiet—such a noisy girl.” 

The clink of his dog tags with each thrust mixed with your gurgles around his cock, a mixture of your spit and precum bubbling around your mouth and running messily down your chin. The stretch of his fingers unprepared was painful and yet it blended perfectly into pleasure. “Mmph!” 

“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky choked when he thrusted into your mouth at a particular angle. Taking advantage of his legs twitching erratically, you managed to release his dick and reach further back to his balls. 

Wasting no time, you sucked them into your mouth while his cock slapped against your cheeks, smothering precum all over your face. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping into your pussy. “You filthy fuckin’ whore—you just want all a’me don’t ya?” 

You hummed while playing with balls, using your tongue to tease over his perineum. Bucky was losing his composure fast and the thrill of it made the knot in your stomach tighter. 

But not one to be outdone, he ripped his fingers out of your cunt and slapped your clit, hard. You let go with a pop and squealed his name. “Bucky!” 

You tried closing your legs, the sensation too overwhelming. Though it was useless with his strength as he held your thighs apart to carry on bringing his hand down firmly on your cunt. “I thought you wanted to play dirty, darlin’,” he growled. “Daddy’s just having some fun.” 

Your body jolted with each slap delivered. You took it, even when the pain became too much and you thought you would pass out, until Bucky decided to give you respite. He left your pussy sore and aching as he lifted up away from you. A whine tore from your throat. 

“That's what happens when you don’t do as I say.” You were manhandled up and into Bucky’s arms as he sat down against the headboard. He moved you around without a hint of struggle and placed you on his lap, facing away from him. “Good girls don’t disobey Daddy, do they?” 

“No,” sighed. His hard, thick length stood firm against your ass, his dog tags soothingly cold against your warm back and you whimpered pleadingly while grinding back into him. “Want it in me.” 

Bucky’s laughter vibrated through you. “Yeah, baby? Wanna bounce on Daddy’s cock?” 

“Yes! Please!” you cried. 

Gliding his hands around to your front, he pinched each nipple. “Well, I’m not stoppin’ you. Go ahead.” 

You inhaled deeply, gathering all your strength to lift up on your shaky legs. Using Bucky’s thighs to hold yourself, you tilted your hips up until your heat skimmed over the head of his cock. “O—Oh, oh shit,” you stuttered at the sensation. 

Bucky’s head thumped back against the headboard. “God—I’ve fuckin’ missed that cunt.” 

His enjoyment allowed you the courage to balance on one hand while your other reached down to grip his thick length. A strangled noise rose from Bucky’s throat, but you ignored it and swept his tip through your folds. 

“Look who’s gotten brave, huh?” Bucky laughed breathlessly while he played with your tits. “Not thinkin’ about poor Becs now are you, baby?” 

Before the harsh retort could dig deep and make a home in your conscience, you shook your head and let his cock catch on your clenching hole. “Wanna be filled again.” 

“Then do somethin’ about it, darlin’.” Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and you both looked down to where your sex rested on his length. Your stomach sucked in with your uneasy breaths and after internally counting down, you dropped your hips. 

“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands gripped your breasts tightly, something to help him through how good the slick glide felt. You did the same, latching on to his meaty thighs. “Shit.”

Your chests rose and fell in tandem, but the sensation of feeling so full made you tighten around his cock. “I need to move, Daddy.” 

His mouth moved over your neck as he spoke, “Go on, babygirl. Milk Daddy’s cock.” 

With his approval, you began to angle your hips up, letting his length slide out of you until the very head rested snug in your hole and then sank down again steadily. Your breath hitched while your head fell back onto his shoulder.  

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck—just like that. Keep going for me.” Bucky’s hands smoothed down to your hips and gripped them, helping you move over his cock. 

“You’re so b—big,” you whispered. “Forgot how big you are.” 

“Oh, I know. But you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he cooed. 

“Mhm,” your head bobbed lazily up and down with your motions. “I’m your good girl, right?” 

Bucky grunted and made you bounce faster. “The best, baby. Such a good girl for me.” 

His dick throbbed angrily inside you, its length scraping your walls and stretching you with its girth. The clapping of your thrusts grew louder, more depraved as you lost control from the divine pleasure. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have been careful about your volume, but all your inhibitions went out the window long ago. 

“Need more,” you slurred. “Wanna cum, but need more Daddy.” 

“Shh—I know what you need, sweetheart.” Bucky slithered his hand down your stomach and to your heat. With your legs spread wide over his, it gave him ample opportunity to snake his fingers over your engorged clit and begin circling them.  

You squeaked, instantly snapping your legs closed around his hand. “Bucky, wait!—”

But he forced your legs open and slapped your clit, making you jump with a shout. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to wait. You asked me for more so you’re getting more, you slut. What happened to wantin’ to make me proud, hm?” 

You sobbed as a tear tracked down your cheek. “I— I do!” 

“So then you’ll take it—won’t you?” Bucky growled against your ear. 

Sniffling, you nodded, panting while bouncing on his cock. “Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

You hiccuped. “Yes, D—Daddy.” 

Bucky hummed in approval and began thrusting up to meet your stride. “That’s more like it.” 

You took what he gave you while he fucked up into your pussy. The strain of your muscles was almost unbearable, but you persevered through the pain — to be the center of his attention, to be so utterly wanted felt too compelling to give up. 

His thrusts were harsh, rough enough to have your toes curling and his balls to smack against your skin. All those sensations paired with his ruthless circles on your clit blended to build your impending orgasm. “I’m so close,” you gasped. 

“Me too, babygirl.” Bucky grunted, biting into his plump bottom lip. “Gonna empty my load inside a’you.” 

You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please.” 

Bucky’s hips worked overtime, a ferocious beast taking over in its haze. He brought his free hand up to your cheeks and squished them together. “Who’s Daddy’s little cumslut, huh?” 

“Me,” you cried. “I’m Daddy’s cumslut.” 

“Fuck yeah you are,” he snarled. “And now that I’ve got you back you’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.” 

You were too dizzy to comprehend the weight behind his words, instead you slammed your hips up and down in time with Bucky’s movements, chasing the tightening in your lower stomach. 

“You ready for me, darlin’?” he asked. 

You swallowed the dryness in your throat. “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Now hold on.” Without waiting for you to reply, he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you. You were held up solely by his arms as he powerfully began to fuck you. 

You became mute, mouth hung open on a continuous silent scream. The feeling was like no other; Bucky’s pure strength and huge length tore you apart, physically and mentally. 

“Gonna,” thrust, “fill,” thrust, “this,” thrust, “gorgeous fuckin’ pussy.” 

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth like a dog, drool dripping down your chin while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were on the verge of cumming. “Close.” You had been reduced to one syllable words. 

“I know, baby. I fuckin’ know—Can feel you,” Bucky gasped. “Let go for me, darlin’.” It was only when the angle of his hips changed and the head of his cock repeatedly nudged against your cervix that the balance of your orgasm tipped over. 

“Hnng—Fuck!” You walls trapped Bucky’s dick in a tight chokehold as your thighs shook in a spasm. He continued to grind up into you, releasing his warm load into your pussy. 

“Bucky!” you keened while your walls fluttered around his length. The rush was unlike any you had experienced before and an errant thought that any consequence was worth it to cum like that again swirled through your mind. “Made me— made me cum so hard,” you slurred.

Your high began to simmer down and you felt like you could regain control over your mind until Bucky’s hand came down onto your clit again. “One more,” he breathed into your ear. “Gimme one fuckin’ more.” 

Your eyes shot open and you shook your head, rapidly. “C—Can’t,” you managed to croak. “Too much.” 

You reached down to try and pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong. “I said I want one more.” Bucky held your arms to your chest then, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles. 

An unusual pressure built up quickly and you panicked. “Bucky—something’s wrong.” 

But he sucked over your neck, easing your worries. “You’re okay. It's okay, baby. Just let it happen, remember?” 

You writhed in his hold, moaning salaciously. “I’m— I’m g—gonna cum again.” The feel of his cock still filling you, his cum seeping out of your whole which each dirty grind he made, the sensation of his tongue against your neck and his tireless fingers was all too much. 

“Cum for Daddy then, darlin’.” A couple of circulations later and you screamed out in unimaginable pleasure. Your stomach swooped and the next you knew, a strong pressure forced Bucky’s cock out of your cunt. A rush of liquid sprayed out of you and covered the entirety of the bedsheets. 

“There we are,” he grinned wickedly. “Exactly what I wanted.” 

It felt like it went on forever. Bucky didn’t let up on his insistent rubbing. But as soon as the last juices squirted out of you, you deflated into his chest, breaths heaving with utter exhaustion. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, body boneless and overexerted. Your body jumped with aftershocks, tiny zings of electricity igniting your nerves. 

Bucky finally slowed his fingers down to a stop on your clit. Your back rose and fell with his pants, each puff of his exhales hitting your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 

“Holy fuck,” he laughed deliriously. “That was—fuck.” 

Internally agreeing, you hummed, incapable of formulating words. Bucky’s arms wrapped around you while he placed a kiss to the back of your head and you enjoyed being surrounded with his warmth and comfort. “You were perfect, babygirl,” he mumbled. “Did so fuckin’ good for me. Made Daddy so proud.” 

A wide smile curled onto your face as your eyes remained closed. You were falling out of consciousness, giving in to sleep fast. 

“Let’s get you comfy.” You didn’t stir when Bucky began to lift up, or when he rearranged your form so he could carry your limp body in his arms. 

Your body bounced with each powerful step he made. Vaguely hearing the room door open, a cold blast of air hit your heated skin and you shivered, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest. 

Your head swam with fuzziness. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes with their heaviness. But you felt as you were delicately placed onto a large, comfortable bed, stacked with pillows and fitted with dry sheets, along with Bucky’s delicious scent that tickled your senses. 

A soft kiss was pressed onto your cheek, a firm hand curling around your waist and just before you could succumb to sleep, you heard his last words. “You get some rest now, sweetheart. We’ve still got a whole week ahead of us.” 

You were sure the mortification would hit you in the morning. Pure regret sinking deeply into your skin and making you feel sick to the core. 

But you also knew now that any chance of quitting your best friend's dad had been lost. Because Bucky was a guilty pleasure, a rush you couldn’t bear to give up — no matter the consequences and no matter who it would inevitably hurt. 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot

[yesimwriting]

Final Girl

A/N I start my second year of college tomorrow and i wanted to write something for the movie series that got me through moving out on my own for the first time!!

Fandom: (original) Scream

Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at  Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s. 

Final Girl Masterlist  (updated chapters 1-10 and extras, asks/extras involving the final girl fic verse are under the tag ‘final girl fic’)

----

Like usual, the bell that signifies the end of homeroom rings while I’m in the middle of a sentence. Mrs. Ramirez may be strict about tardies, but she always wraps up her announcements early, which means most of homeroom is filled by basic high school chatter. 

On the first day, that made me incredibly nervous. I didn’t think I’d have to start over at a new school almost two months into my junior year of high school, but now that I’ve been in Woodsboro nearly a month, the space in between instructions doesn’t bother me. The people here have been a lot more welcoming than I thought they’d be. And one of those surprisingly welcoming people is Casey, who’s patiently standing by her desk as I pick up my backpack. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” The question surprises me a little more than it should. I’ve been invited to a lot of things since I first moved here, and even when nothing’s going on I normally run into one or two of my friends on the weekends. Usually Stu and or Billy. 

I swing my backpack over my shoulder, “Uh--besides studying for that unit test in math, nothing much.” 

She smiles, “Okay, good.” Casey walks out of the door and into the hall with me. “I was going to rent a movie to watch with my boyfriend, but I’m thinking of blowing him off. You want to have a sleepover at my house? We can watch something scary and freak ourselves out and get no sleep.” 

I grin. “Sure, sounds fun. I’ll bring the Jiffy Pop.” 

“Great, I’ll write my address out for you tomorrow.” She turns her head slightly, taking note of the students crowding the hall, “I’ve gotta get to class. See ya.” 

“See ya.” 

A second after I’ve waved her off, a voice comes from right behind me, “New friend?” 

The words are so unexpected and strangely harsh in their lowness that I nearly jump out of my skin. I turn, posture straightening instinctively as I do so. Oh. Okay--not a threat at all. “Oh, it’s just you,” I exhale, “You scared me, Stu.” 

I offer him a partial smile in greeting, which is a gesture he normally returns with a genuine grin. Today, though, he just kind of looks at me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his eyes look so dark, especially not while he’s looking at me. “Sorry.” He watches me blink at him. “I was just waiting to walk you to your first period like a good friend, but you seemed busy.” 

Oh, is that what his weird attitude’s about? “You mean Casey?” He doesn’t say anything. “She’s nice.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend myself or maybe even apologize, but I do. I don’t want him looking at me like that anymore. I want Stu to throw his arm around my shoulders with no warning after making an inappropriate joke that I pretend to get mad over. “We talk in homeroom, she’s a friend.” He doesn’t ease. “Are you jealous?” The joke doesn’t land. “Ease up, you know you’re my favorite.” 

At that, Stu’s oddly serious expression shifts into something softer, maybe even a little amused. “Your favorite?” 

He finally smiles, making the inky undertones of his expression disappear. “Mhm,” I continue, “My favorite out of everyone, but don’t tell Tatum or Sid because I don’t want to hurt their feelings.” 

“Fine,” Stu relents, casually throwing an arm around my shoulders, “I’ll just tell Billy.” 

I gape at him for a long second. After almost two weeks of eating lunch with their friend group every day, Billy offered me his drink after someone bumped into me and spilled mine. I had been sitting next to Stu, who had made some joke earlier that involved grabbing my hand and he had yet to let go. I released him to cross the table and thank Billy. Stu frowned and pretended to be seriously hurt until Tatum told him to leave me alone before he scared her new friend off. Since then, the two have a running joke (well, it’s Stu’s joke that Billy kind of just sort of allows) that revolves around me picking a favorite. 

“You’re in a drama starting mood today.” 

Stu hums once absentmindedly, rubbing his hand up and down my arm in a comfortable display of affection. ”What can I say? I want you all to myself.” 

Heat rises to my face for no good reason. Stu’s touchy, I learned that about him pretty quickly. “Haha,” I mumble dryly, hoping humor manages to come across in my voice. “We should get to class before you erupt into a jealous rage.” 

----

Temporarily discarding the cardboard lid of the Jiffy Pop container, I let my gaze linger on the few polaroids Casey took a little earlier in the night. Just a thing I’m trying out, she had explained before snapping a few awkward shots of me smiling before joining me behind the camera. The one where she’s cross eyed and I’m sticking my tongue out is kind of cute, but most of the ones of me are a little rough. 

Casey announces her return to the kitchen with, “Okay, I wasn’t sure what kind of movies you liked so I brought some variety.” She sets her stack of tapes on the counter next to me. “I was thinking Nightmare on Elm Street or Pet Sementary.” 

Leaning down, I turn on the stovetop before placing the pan on a burner. “Mmm, both are good but I’m more of a Nightmare on Elm Street kinda person. Can’t resist a story with a final girl in it.”  

“Alright,” she says just as the first kernel pops, “I’ll keep that in mind for future movie nights.” 

I turn my attention back to the stove in hopes of concealing a smile. Casey caught my attention that first day in homeroom because she’s just so effortlessly cool in a way that normally I find off putting. All morning, I tortured myself over everything that could go wrong. “Yeah, just--” 

A loud pop from the Jiffy Pop pan nearly makes me jump. Casey’s lips turn upwards like she’s going to make a joke about how easily startled I am, but a ringing sound spares me. “Hold on a second.” Casey pushes herself away from the counter she was leaning against. “Landline.” 

She casually picks up the receiver and I give the stove my full attention in an attempt to offer her some sort of privacy. Her words are low and easy to miss as butter begins to sizzle and more kernels start to explode. My gaze shifts and her slightly bothered expression makes me wonder if she’s on the phone with her boyfriend. I’ve never met him, but the few stories she told me earlier make me think I’m not going to like him. 

Casey hangs up with a sigh. “Wrong number.” She straightens, stepping away from the counter before grabbing a tape from her pile. “I’m going to go work on the movie, my mom was just complaining about the VCR. Careful with the popcorn, our stove’s a little iffy.” 

“Please,” I hum, “I know Jiffy Pop, I feel Jiffy Pop, I basically am Jiffy Pop. I’ve never burnt a single kernel.” 

She raises an eyebrow at my only slightly exaggerated claim before turning to leave the room. “You better hope you’re not all talk or you’re never living this down. 

I move the Jiffy Pop around the burner with a level of skill that’s worthy of someone of my expertise. About a minute later, Casey’s home landline starts ringing again. “Casey!”

“On it!”  

The ringing ends with the sound of a quick click. She must be on the living room extension. Her voice keeps getting louder, but I’m not hearing enough to understand who she’s talking to. She does sound like she’s getting a little annoyed, which makes me really think she’s on the phone with her boyfriend. Preconceived notions about people kind of suck, but Steve sounds like a total asshole. 

Casey returns to the kitchen with a playful, albeit softly irritated eye roll. “How do you feel about prank phone calls?” 

My eyes narrow in mock consideration. “Like making them?” 

“Nope,” she replies, popping the ‘P’ sound. “Dealing with them.” 

She waves the phone in front of me like it’s some kind of offer. “That’s kinda an ominous question,” I decide, arm extending to take the phone from her, “I’m in.” Without thinking twice, I raise the phone to my ear. Static hums from the other end of the line. “Hi.” The only response to my greeting is the consistent crack of static. “Are random phone calls your big Saturday night plans?” 

The static is starting to feel a lot eerier than it did before. That, paired with the continual popping of kernels is starting to unsettle me. Snap out of it, it’s just a prank call. I begin to move around the pan again. I can’t afford to burn anything after all that big talk about my Jiffy Pop skills. 

Just as I’m settling the pan at a new angle, the sound of shifting fabric interrupts the steady stream of white noise. “Did your friend scare so easily?” 

I blink. Whoever’s on the other line is probably a total weirdo, but his voice is kinda attractive. “It’s not personal, she’s just busy messing with the VCR.” 

An unsettlingly deep laugh comes from the other line of the phone. Okay--his attractive voice is no longer enough of a redeeming quality for me to not see him as a total creep or perv. Actually, he’s probably both. “What’s your name?” 

The confident authoritativeness of the question rubs me the wrong way. I release the handle of the pan in favor of instinctually placing a hand on my hip. “I don’t share things with strangers.” 

A beat of silence is followed by the rustling of fabric. “But I already know something about you.” 

“Mhm,” I muse dryly, beginning to work on the popcorn again, “And what is it that you know?” 

“Your friend is setting up the VCR, you’re going to watch a movie, aren’t you?” 

I roll my eyes, understanding why Casey was so quick to leave them without hanging up. Weird people like this are normally more persistent when they’re ignored. “Wow, your detective skills have truly shocked and amazed me, Nancy Drew. Congratulations, now if that’s all--”

I’m not sure if its my sarcasm or my attempt at stern dismissal that amuses them, but a deep chuckle comes from the other end of the line. “What movie are you going to watch?” 

“Why? Are you looking for a recommendation?” My reply comes out too fast and too bitter and I regret it instantly. People like this can’t know that they’re getting to you. “Nightmare on Elm Street.” 

Static turns into the sound of more ruffling. “That’s scary.” 

“I think I can handle it,” I breathe. 

“Do you like scary movies?” 

I nod, “Yep, I even have a golden rule for them.” 

“Golden rule?” 

Rolling my eyes, I stare at the pan. The popping is starting to slow down. Soon enough, I’ll have an excuse to hang up and get back to my sleepover. “Yeah, it’s silly, but I think all the great scary movies have a final girl.” 

Another dark laugh. “I agree.” 

“Your approval fuels me,” I mumble. 

The stranger is quick to ask, “Is Nightmare on Elm Street your favorite scary movie?” 

I shake my head, turning the pan so that it’s more on its side than before. “It’s good, but it’s not my all time favorite.” 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

I sigh, a part of me wishing that Casey would come back. “I already told you that I’m not telling you anything.” 

“So I shouldn’t ask for your name again?” 

“You can ask, but you’re not getting an answer.” Rolling my eyes, I move my hand away from the pan and towards the switch that controls the stove. “Why do you want know so bad, anyway?” 

“It’s rude to not ask a pretty girl for her name.”

Wow--what a line. “That line doesn’t work in person and works even less over the phone when I know you can’t see me.” 

Silence stretches between us so long I start to think that he might have gotten up or something. “What makes you so sure I can’t see you?”

 It’s the kind of vague threat that normally I’d laugh off. But something about the stranger’s assured tone cuts right through all of my security. Irrational dread pulses in my stomach. “Yeah, I’m not interested in being in a scary movie. Bye.” 

“Wait--” There’s the slightest hint of panic in their voice. 

“I am so sick of creepy men trying to ruin everything just because they can.” 

“Don’t even think ab--!” = 

“Porn exists for a reason, perv!” And with a single beep, the man’s voice disappears. 

Ugh, men. Even though his threat was the kind of meaningless joke that creepy, horny men tell because they get off on scaring girls, I can’t stop feeling a lot less alone in Casey’s kitchen. 

I let myself shudder as I pace away from the kitchen and towards Casey’s living room.

“Y/n?” Casey’s voice is completely casual as she questions me. That means that weird phone guy didn’t scare her. 

Be more normal. “Hey--I just..” 

She turns her head, blonde bob falling to the side as I trail off. “Did something scare you?” 

There are a lot of things I could say, but nothing feels good enough. Denial crawls up my throat and just sits there as my thoughts beg me to tell her. To maybe even warn her. Warn her of what, though? That some weird guy has her phone number and the junior girl she took a chance on is this easily freaked? 

Before I can make up my mind, the living room phone rings. Dread roots itself in my stomach and tangles itself in my throat. Casey sits up a bit more on her couch as she reaches for the phone. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Casey raises an eyebrow as she picks up the receiver. “Forget that guy, he’s probably already forgotten us and is harassing someone else. She then raises the phone to her ear and listens for a long second, “Is this some kind of joke, because it’s not funny.”

I stare at her with wide eyes as she stands, quickly pacing away from the couch and towards the center of the living room, as far from any window as possible. The noise from the phone is muffled, but something about the tone feels a lot more aggressive than it was earlier. Maybe aggressively calling him a pervert and hanging up on him wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done. 

Casey’s face is void of any color as she slowly pulls the phone away from her ear. “He wants to talk to you.” 

My eyes widen as I play back the last words I said to him. An instinctual no crawls up my throat. With shaky hands, I take the phone. “Hi,” I curse myself for sounding so nervous, “Again. Hi again.” A nervous giggle crawls up my throat and I have to my tongue to keep it down. “Listen, you win. You scared us. Now I’m going to hang up and you’re gonna let me.” 

“Really?” The laugh, or maybe even growl, that follows comes out in the form of low grumble that turns my blood into slush. “And if I don’t?” 

Great. Of course phone freak is trying to verify my threat. I don’t exactly have an arsenal of intimidation tactics. “My mom’s dating a cop, and I’ll get him to arrest your ass.”

It’s not the most honest thing I’ve said to him, but it’s not a lie either. My mom’s boyfriend being hired as Woodsboro’s police chief is one of the main reasons we moved, but I’m not sure he’d particularly care about someone scaring me over the phone. I’ve known Wells for a few months now and the only thing I’ve seen him express interest in is my mom and beer. And occasionally, he shows a little too much interest in the length of my skirt. 

Silence. Okay--maybe he took that seriously. My finger moves towards the button that can end this call, but before I can convince myself that nothing bad will happen if I press it, the voice returns with a vengeful chuckle. “What’s Chief Wells Hoffman going to do for you?” 

I feel each drop of blood drain from me. My hands shake as my grip on the phone tightens. With a wavering voice I ask, “How did--how--” 

In an act of a sadistic sort of mercy, the man cuts me off, “Oh, doll face,” he breathes the nickname like he’s taking pity on me. Like I’m a child that needs to be comforted. “I’m going to play nice with you.” He’s waits a beat, “But your good friend Casey Becker’s not going to be so lucky.” 

At the threat of someone that’s standing right next to me, something in me becomes strangled. “How do you know her name?” I shake my head, forcing down the wave of dread trying to force me into panic. “Leave her alone, or-or you’re gonna regret it.” 

“You look too sweet in those cherry pajamas to be making threats.” 

My lips part but I can’t bring myself to ask the question because I already feel the answer in my chest. “How do you know what I’m wearing?” 

“Why don’t you look behind you?”

I pull the phone away from my ear slowly, my eyes snapping upwards in search of Casey’s. But she’s not looking at me. She’s staring at something that’s just over my shoulder, her hand covering her mouth in horror. I pull the phone away from my ear. 

My body does not feel like my own as I force myself to turn towards Casey’s sliding glass door. Despite the glare of the living room light against the reflection of glass, it only takes my eyes a second to adjust enough to see that Casey’s backyard is not empty. 

A figure that’s clothed in all black except for their contrasting, stark white mask that depicts a face frozen in a permanent, cartoonish scream is standing there. Now that he has my attention, he raises his hand, miming the action of answering a phone.

I take a deep breath in an attempt to settle myself, but all it does is make it harder to not scream or cry or laugh hysterically. I raise the phone to my ear again. “Hello, Y/n.” 

“Hi,” I squeak back before pressing the phone into the side of my thigh in a pathetic attempt to muffle my words. “Casey,” I whisper, raising my hand in greeting in an attempt to appease the figure on the other side of the glass, “R--” 

Before the single syllable can slip past my lips, the glass bursts. I turn in on myself, lifting an arm in a feeble attempt to protect myself from the explosion of glass shards. It only takes me a moment to look up in horror at the masked man that’s now in the house. If throwing his entire weight against gas sliding glass door with enough force to shatter it hurt him, he shows no sign of his pain as he begins to run. 

An instinctual scream escapes me as I blindly hurl the phone in the man’s general direction. I grasp Casey’s hand pulling her forward with all my strength as I start running. I urge her forward, ignoring the pain in my forearm and feet from the glass. We’re about to make it to the front door when I feel a firm grasp on my arm. 

I yelp, thrashing blindly as I’m yanked away from Casey. My body twists, but the leather clad hand holding me is unrelenting. There’s a strange strain in the way they pull me back, but I don’t care about his promise to play nice. In a move that likely surprises both of us, I kick behind me with all of my force. Their hold loosens for a fraction of a second, but they regain control before I can even take a full step forward. The man pulls on me harder than before, throwing me back and into the Becker’s entryway table. A scream that I only vaguely register as not mine is so terrible and high pitched my lip quivers at the sound of it. The vase on the table gets knocked over and shatters as I fall. 

My head slams into the wall with enough force to leave me disorientated for a second. Our attacker must not be completely aware of his own strength because for a brief moment, they just look at me as my body lays against shards of glass. With a shaky breath, I push myself to stand even though the movement forces large pieces of glass to cut into my palm. The man recovers before I’m fully up. He grabs me by my shoulder and forces me down on the other side of the hall. I push against him with the support of all the adrenaline in my body as he moves to pin my wrists above my head. The man reaches for something hidden among layers of black. All I can hope for is that my death might have given Casey a chance to escape. 

Instead of pulling out a gun or a blade, he reveals a small, white towel. The confusion makes my stomach twist in a different way as I fight against him even more now. He places the rag over my nose and mouth, forcing me to breath through it. Is this a form of suffocation? I blink twice, my limbs growing impossibly heavy the more I try to breathe. Eventually, that’s all there is. Just the weight of my body and the polluted air in my lungs until even that is replaced by darkness. 

----

NARRATOR’S POV

The one thing about meticulously planning is that it takes so little for plans to go off the rail. One can prepare for every possible outcome and life can still throw twists at them because the rest of the world can never seem to listen to the fucking plan. 

That’s how Billy felt when he saw you standing in Casey Becker’s kitchen, casually prepping Jiffy Pop like you’ve been best friends with her your entire life. Not only did a dangerous sort of aggravation pulse through him at the realization that his perfect plan needed to be adjusted, he also found himself dealing with the kind of anger that’s a result of betrayal. All the time Stu and him spend with you and you couldn’t tell them that you were planning on spending the night at Casey Becker’s? 

When you mumbled some vague excuse about why you couldn’t hang out with Tatum and Sidney Saturday evening during yesterday’s lunch period, Billy felt skeptical. He thought that that’d be something to figure out later. And then he saw you there, grinning and having the time of your life without a single thought about them.

For the briefest moment, Billy wondered if this was some kind of sign. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him to screw it, to let you get what you deserve for keeping secrets. But then he realized that if anything, this signified that he was right about you. After all, what were the odds that you’d be in the perfect place to make your debut as the one thing their movie was missing--a final girl? It only took a few minutes of watching you for Billy to be glad that he thought to bring some chloroform in case anything got complicated. 

The new and improved plan went off without a hitch. Steve was an easy kill and Casey’s death was even more satisfying than he thought possible. Nothing bad happened, so why the hell is Stu taking so long? 

Approaching the house’s entryway, Billy sighs when he sees that Stu isn’t wearing his mask. “What is taking so--” He cuts himself off as something he doesn’t quite get settles in his chest. There’s a hole about the size of his fist in the wall, blue and white ceramic fragments scattered around a small, knocked over table, and most unsettling of all, your unconscious, still bleeding form lying parallel to it all.

“I didn’t mean to,” Stu says, voice uncharacteristically shaky, “I--I--fuck, I didn’t mean to. I was just gonna put her to sleep, but she kept trying to get away--and the chase was exciting,” he scoffs the last word pathetically. “I didn’t think she’d fight back.” 

Billy lets out a breath, crouching down to get a better look at your face. There’s a shallow gash on your forehead that’s still dripping blood into a puddle that your cheek is resting in. If it wasn’t for that, Billy might have been able to imagine that you were sleeping. “What the fuck did you do?” 

When Billy’s hard gaze meets Stu’s, Stu blurts out the only thing he can think to say, “She’s still breathing! She’s not--she’s not dead.” He stares at your crumpled form, desperately studying the slow but even rise and fall of your chest. “I didn’t mean to.” 

Billy’s fingers brush against the side of your face. “I know.” Stu doesn’t ask him to specify which part of his defense he’s referencing. “She’ll be okay, someone will find this, they’ll take her to the hospital. She’s not that hurt.” 

“She fell into the glass,” Stu admits, “And--and her head hit the wall so hard. What if she has a concussion? Shit, aren’t you supposed to stay awake if you have a concussion?” He lets out an uneasy sigh that doesn’t seem to fit him. It’s the kind of breathy, uneasy sound that’s the precursor for a tantrum a child throws after realizing that they just broke their favorite toy. “What if she has some kinda brain damage? She has--she has the SAT next week and she’s been studying for it since before she moved here.” After a moment, Stu snorts, but the sound comes out more desperate than humorous. “She’s gonna be so mad.” 

The corner of Billy’s lips turn upwards. “For like a week, and then she’ll be trying to spin this into some kind of college essay.” 

Another uneven laugh escapes Stu. “You’re right.” He then looks down, something weirdly close to what some might call guilt cramming itself into his head with too much force. It’s all too much. All he wants is for you to open your eyes and smile at him. “Fuck, we need to call an ambulance.” 

“You know we can’t.” 

“She could be bleeding in her skull. Isn’t that a thing?”

Billy bites his tongue. So many versions of a reply are circling in his mind and not a single one of them feels right. He should tell his best friend, his partner in everything, that that’s just something he’s going to have to life with. Billy should tell Stu that what happens to you is on him. Instead, Billy just looks at you, at the cuts in your soft skin. Some dominant part of him is thrilled at your vulnerable state. All bloody and broken and still somehow so soft and warm. He could have you now, he thinks, and he wouldn’t have to pretend the way he does when you’re awake. But something else in him, maybe the part of him that knows the way he’s supposed to act, knows that to leave you like this, to waste any more time, could lead to something permanent.  

The updated plan is already in motion. After this, there’s no way you won’t need them. He likes the thought of you needing him more than anything else, and he knows that it’d be so easy to push you into a state of dependency. You’re going to be so scared that any reservations you feel towards them because they’re dating your friends will disappear. And how could Sidney and Tatum have a problem with Stu and him being supportive after everything you’ve been through? 

Besides, a part of him wants to see how your role plays out. After all, you said it yourself. All the great scary movies have a final girl. 

He cups your face, studying each of your features as if to commit them to memory. “We’ll call 911 from the house phone and not say anything. They’ll have to send someone over, but we need to get out of here quick.”

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #final girl fic

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Blue Dream

A mini series

Jacey is Erik’s new weed plug despite their dislike for each other

Warnings: Smut, Enemies To Lovers, Smoking Bi!Erik

The thunderous knock to her apartment door had Jacey taking long strides with her short, thick thighs and booty bouncing behind her. She took a look through her peep hole and quickly morphed the agitation in her features to that of guilt. When she opened her door, her down turned brows and slight pout didn’t get her off the hook. 

“Jacey, I’ve been calling you all damn day. Where have you been? You were supposed to drop by the tent today for the pickup. I had to drag my ass all the way down here to bring you the supply.”

Toni, Jacey’s cultivator and partner to her incarcerated brother, Duke, thrust a Nike duffel bag filled with that good dank— potent and indicating its freshness — before turning to leave. Toni took one final look over his shoulder at Jacey, his once perfectly gelled shiny black hair now a crop of waves atop his head. Jacey surveyed him up and down — body covered in tattoos from his neck down to his ankles — waiting for him to say whatever else he needed to get off his beefy chest.

“C’mon, Toni. Look, I’m sorry, okay? This isn’t all I do to make money. I have a remote job too, remember?” Jacey reminded him with a whine.

“Cariño, you aren’t the only one with a busy schedule. I have to make drops throughout the day on top of making sure the flowers are growing right. Got a new guy who fucked up a batch of wedding crasher.” 

“How did he do that?” Jacey questioned with a frown.

“Powdery Mildew.” Toni replied.

“Shit,” Jacey huffed, “And he’s still working for you?”

Toni gave her a one shoulder shrug, “I got my partner showing him the ropes. Shit’s been in high demand for us growers, Jace. I’ve been putting in double the time.”

Toni’s phone chimed back to back in his pocket, reminding him that he had other places to be. 

“Listen, just let me know in advance if you need a drop off instead of coming to pick it up, okay?”

Jacey nodded her head slowly, “will do. Thanks Toni.” 

“You know I gotchu, bebita. Until next time. Let me know if you like the new exotics.” 

Jacey waved a final goodbye to Toni before shutting her apartment door. She locked it and carried the duffel bag further into the apartment until she was settled in her living room. She made room on her glass coffee table covered in bags of buds and sat the duffel bag in the middle. Unzipping the bag, Jacey was hit with a whiff of the pungent aroma. Banana Cream Pie. a combination of Girl Scout Cookies and Banana OG. The top reported aromas of the Banana Cream Pie strain are lemon, vanilla, and bananas. It is said to taste of bananas and sugary pastries. 

She couldn’t keep her nose out of that duffel bag filled with plastic bags of nugs. The contact high she was receiving was astounding. She was already feeling aroused before Toni stopped by but the effects of Banana Cream Pie had her feeling like she was floating on a vibrational high. Her clit ached for attention and her nipples became stiff peaks. Jacey smiled and wiggled her ass before coming to the surface. She dragged her tongue over her top teeth ecstatically, more than ready to smoke some. She was so enraptured with the duffel bag of exotics that she hadn’t noticed a dainty hand reaching out from behind the couch, popping her on the ass. 

“Who was that, baby?” A melodic voice spoke.

“My grower, Toni. I was supposed to pick up the new supply today and got sidetracked because of YOU.”

Jacey came face to face with her weakness, Marcia. Marcia and Jacey had been together on and off for three years. They knew each other since high school but they didn’t become close until college. Marcia is a lesbian while Jacey is bisexual. She’s also Jacey’s fem dom. Jewel-like, cocoa-brown eyes, skin the color of cinnamon and satiny to the touch, lush lips, and unkempt curls that appeared wind blown with baby hairs. Her long, acrylic french tips sank into the flesh of Jacey’s backside when she reached around to grab her. Jacey gave Marcia a small smile before leaning in for a sloppy kiss. Their heads swayed back and forth, Marcia massaging Jacey’s cheeks from the front. 

Marcia broke her lips away from Jacey’s full ones and her sultry gaze scanned Jacey’s body in a charcoal gray robe that barely fit all her curves, the front of the robe revealing her cleavage and her sternum tattoo of a lotus flower. Jacey bat her hybrid lash extensions at Marcia with a slight bite of her lip. The Banana Cream Pie fragrance circulated their personal space and Marcia couldn’t help but to lick her lips. 

“Toni? And you answered the door like this?” Marcia palmed Jacey’s ass harder, “what I tell you about that shit, huh?”

“He was banging all loud, what did you expect me to do?” Jacey quipped with a defiant roll of her eyes. 

Marcia clicked her tongue, “I bet he was looking. Don’t do that again, Jace…or I’m a bring out Miss Boss and you know what happens when I do that.”

Jacey fixed her face with an innocent smile, “you say that like I don’t want it.”

Marcia popped Jacey on the ass and wrapped a hand around her slender throat. Jacey’s breath hitched and she let out a shaky breath when Marcia’s braless breasts in a thin, white baby tee pressed against hers. 

“Such a fuckin’ brat…Now, show me what he dropped off that was so important,” Marcia let go of Jacey and her eyes fell towards the duffel bag.

“look,” Jacey reached in the bag, unraveling one of the plastic bags, the tips of her fingers securing a nug. She brought it up to Marcia’s nose, the multiple shades of green of her french tips contrasting beautifully with the bud between her pointer finger and thumb. Marcia inhaled deeply and then her eyes rolled shut. 

“Damn, what strain is that?” Marcia asked with low, wanton eyes.

“Banana Cream Pie. Aren’t you happy that your girlfriend is a weed plug?” Jacey boasted.

“Let’s smoke some of that good shit now,” Marcia reached for Jacey’s gold rolling tray and matching grinder. She grabbed a few raw cones and started making blunts for her and Jacey, “My mouth is watering to try this!”

Jacey took off her robe and she sat next to Marcia wearing a pair of Abercrombie & Fitch light gray boxer briefs and nothing up top; perky breasts with pierced nipples on display. Marcia reached for her yellow Backwoods lighter and sparked both of their blunts. Jacey watched as Marcia inhaled slowly, holding in the smoke for a second then gently exhaling the smoke from between her glossy lips. 

“Wow,” Marcia said, smoke constantly billowing from mouth, “it tastes like…like a pastry.”

Jacey wrapped her lips around the end of the blunt and inhaled. She held in the smoke for a few seconds and exhaled through her nose. She allowed her saliva to coat her tongue, remembering the flavor of Banana Cream Pie. Jacey took a few more tokes of her joint before giving her own personal review.

“And here I thought Pineapple Kush was my favorite. It’s right up there,” Jacey took another drag, “Yep…yep…this the one. Toni did that.” 

“Thank you papi! ” Marcia said.

They both giggled. 

“…is it just me, or is this weed making my pussy wet?” Marcia asked.

“Pussy is making a wet spot right now, no doubt.” Jacey said with a flirty wink.

“To be honest, all weed makes me feel like that. You?”

“Nah,” Jacey shakes her head, “depends on the strain for me.”

Marcia and Jacey sat in silence enjoying their blunts for five more minutes before ashing it out to take a break. Jacey turned on the couch to face Marcia, her head resting in the crook of her elbow and her eyes low from the effects of the hybrid strain. She wouldn’t be a good weed plug if she didn’t test the merchandise herself before selling. Soon, she’ll post pictures and facts about the new strain to her Twitter and Instagram for her customers. 

Being a weed plug was never Jacey’s plan, but she aspires to be an Herbalist one day, so she made it her business to know everything about weed. Duke didn’t hesitate to teach her everything she needed to know, she even shadowed Toni at his growing tent to see first hand how the process works. It was fascinating to her. She gained a lot of respect for weed growers after that. The knowledge and skill it takes to make a beautiful flower before curing it is miraculous. 

Jacey was born and raised in Oakland, CA. She grew up in Rockridge, east of Telegraph Avenue, south of the Berkeley city limits, west of the Oakland hills and north of the intersection of Pleasant Valley Avenue/51st Street and Broadway. She works from home during the day as a proofreader for Sodexo and took a break from college when she decided to take over her brother’s business. He only trusted her to oversee things. 

When Duke got booked on illegal gun possession, Jacey knew that she would have to take over for her brother to keep the business flourishing. He was known to be one of the best, if not number one, weed plugs in CA. Her brother had people traveling from Houston, Detroit, Vegas, Washington, Florida, New York, and many other places to buy from him. He was going to school to be a Chemist while raising four kids and being a full-time weed plug. Ten years. It hurt Jacey to see her brother in prison. He had already served two years, and she hoped that his appeal would be granted. 

“What are you thinking about over there?” Marcia asked.

“Nothing important.” Jacey said. 

“When you lie, you look off to the side like this,” Marcia’s cocoa-brown eyes flicked to her left and Jacey’s right, demonstrating what Jacey had just done, “So tell me the truth.” 

Jacey’s nose crinkled in agitation, “Fine. Just thinking about Duke. I went to see my nieces yesterday, and Bella, the mother of his four kids, she’s down bad, Marcia.” 

Marcia sat up, leaning forward to grab her blunt again. 

“Down bad how?” She questioned.

“She’s pregnant, Marcia. And we both know it ain’t Duke’s baby. I told him not to get mixed up with her. It doesn’t do good tryna hide who you really are…”

Marcia lit Jacey’s blunt for her again. The orange embers reflected in Jacey’s dark brown eyes with how close she was. 

“So, you’re saying that Duke only stayed with Bella to keep his other life a secret?” 

“Yeah,” Jacey looked across at Marcia solemnly, “And she made him. She said that if he ever left her, she would out him. But look what she’s doing! She’s messing around on my brother while he’s in prison!” 

“You should tell him about it, Jace.” 

Jacey shakes her head, faux locs falling over her shoulder, “I can’t. That would crush him. He doesn't need that right now. I talked to Bella and I told her that she needs to tell him.” 

Marcia starts laughing, coughing a little from the smoke, “If she wanted to tell him by now I’m sure she would.”

“Whatever,” Jacey ashes out her blunt, standing from the couch, “Let me get back into a better mood…with you.” 

Marcia chuckled, “And what does that entail, Jace?”

Jacey stood in front of Marcia, hands on her hips and a defiant glint in her dark brown eyes. Marcia smirked at her, unable to focus too long on her face when her breasts were right above her so mouthwatering. 

“I feel like…I could use something to make me feel better…this weed has me so turned on…can you help me with that, baby?”

Marcia dragged her top teeth across her bottom lip.

“Hmm…you have to be more specific. What EXACTLY is it you want from me, Princess?”

“Well,” Jacey straddled Marcia, taking her weed from between her fingers, placing it on the ashtray, “I think Miss Boss can take care of me.” 

Marcia couldn’t hold back her laughter. Jacey joined her, both women too giggly and high. Marcia reached for Jacey’s chin, pinching it before leaning in to drag the length of her curved tongue over her lips. Jacey’s motor skills were slow from being high, but the heat radiating from between her legs was astounding. 

“Feel it,” Jacey took Marcia’s left hand in hers, placing her open palm between her legs so she could cup her pussy, “It’s so hot and wet…fuck…this weed got me too far gone…you feel that?”

“Mmm,” Marcia hummed in Jacey’s ear, “Your pussy is so fuckin’ warm. It’s nothing compared to my pussy though.” 

Jacey elevated a brow sassily at Marcia, “Teh, I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

Marcia challenged her words with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Get up and go to the room so I can show you.”

Jacey beamed excitedly. She untangled her generous thighs from around Marcia’s waist to stand and as soon as she did, her foot got caught on the glass coffee table and she tripped, almost falling on her butt. Marcia broke out into a fit of laughter, one hand cupping her mouth and the other slapping the couch cushion. Jacey righted herself and gave Marcia the finger.

“When trying to be sexy goes wrong!” Marcia said with a faux deep voice. 

“Bitch, shut up!” Jacey shouted while inspecting her foot. 

Jacey walked away with Marcia on her heels, giggling. Finally in the bedroom, Jacey climbed onto her all white platform bed with white bedding, lying back against the pillows. Marcia crawled onto the bed seductively before climbing on top of Jacey. They both felt light-limbed and euphoric, staring as if they were seeing each other for the first time. Jacey’s right hand pressed against Marcia’s left cheek, her thumb rubbing softly over the slight dimple there. 

“Who do you belong to?” Marcia whispered seductively.

“…You,” Jacey replied with a rasp in her sultry voice. 

Marcia stole a kiss, her tongue meeting Jacey’s in a sort of tango. Their glossy lips shimmered with spit and molded perfectly as their lips smacked. Sucking tongues, bottom lips, and nibbling. Jacey’s hands were in Marcia’s wild mane and Marcia was dragging her hands up and down Jacey’s hips. Jacey’s legs came up to wrap around Marcia’s waist and she thrust her nude chest into hers, her pierced nipples brushing across Marcia’s. An airy whimper escaped her mouth and Marcia reluctantly pulled her lips away from Jacey’s so she could look down at her. 

Marcia sat back on her knees and without a word she went to work removing Jacey’s briefs. Jacey elevated her hips and wiggled so Marcia could successfully take them off. As soon as they were past her feet, Marcia tossed them to the other side of the king bed before parting Jacey’s thighs. There was no point in waiting, she needed to see that hot, sticky pussy for herself. A hiss escaped her mouth when Jacey’s fat pussy void of hair and glistening met her lust filled eyes. 

If only her eyes could be for Jacey and Jacey alone. They’d been through this many times before. Things would be amazing between them and then Marcia would fuck it up because she couldn’t have just one woman in her life. Jacey was her weakness. And she knew Jacey also felt the same, because if she didn’t she wouldn’t be here with her right now. Marcia tried to shake those thoughts from her head so she could focus on the pussy in front of her. She didn’t even have to spread her puffy lips to see how wet Jacey is for her. 

“Your pussy is always so gushy for me, mami,” Marcia whispered with a sexy lilt.

“Stop talking and taste me,” Jacey looked Marcia directly in the eye.

“I can’t appreciate my meal first before I eat it?” Marcia replied with a playful voice. 

“Not when my clit is throbbing like this!” Jacey said. 

“Okay, brat, since you want it so badly, don’t run from this tongue.” Marcia commanded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jacey said with a wink.

Jacey spread her thighs further, and that’s when Marcia could see how swollen her clit had gotten. Her vertical clit piercing was covered in her arousal and Marcia’s tongue ached to lick it clean. With her thumb, Marcia rubbed between her inner lips and up to her clit, back and forth. With her piercing, Jacey is more sensitive there, and her inner thighs quaked with each swipe of her thumb. 

“Oooh, baby,” Jacey called out with a melodic voice.

 It didn’t take much to get her off if you knew how to please her. Jacey loved a lot of eye contact and nasty talk. Combine all three of those and Jacey would be putty in your hands. Marcia locked her eyes on Jacey’s bewitching one’s and told her how beautiful her pussy is. Jacey did that pout with her lips that made Marcia weak and next thing she was tonguing Jacey’s juicy folds. She gathered spit on the tip of her tongue and started off slow, warming Jacey up to the amount of orgasms she would be receiving. 

“Fuuck, just like that, baby,” Jacey smoothed Marcia’s hair from her face so she could watch, “Right there…stay on that clit…fuck.” 

“Mhm,” Marcia hummed while continuing to lick Jacey’s pussy. 

She didn’t even have to speak. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. The taste of her pussy had her tongue salivating beyond normalcy. The scent of her pheromones had an effect on her that she could feel in her own pussy. It was a work of art on its own. Marcia looked up between Jacey’s legs at her face and she’s pinching her nipples and nibbling on her sexy full lips. Marcia felt her body jerk from just looking at her. 

She spread Jacey’s outer folds more so she could get to her clit better. With her plump lips, Marcia trapped Jacey’s jeweled clit between her lips and began sucking. One of her hands came down to secure Marcia’s head between her thighs. Her hips started whining and grinding off of the bed to feed Marcia some more pussy. Marcia forcefully pushed Jacey’s thighs back and inserted two fingers into her now creamy pussy. Her pussy began making all the right noises and both of them moaned. 

“Fuck, you’re on my spot, shit,” Jacey yanked Marcia by the hair, “got my pussy so creamy, baby.” 

They locked eyes while Marcia pushed Jacey over the edge. She thrust her hips forward and with one final jerk of her hips, Jacey’s body went stiff and the meat of her inner thighs shook with intensity. Her moans were deep and intensified, unable to have any control over her body. Marcia finally released her clit with a wet pop and gently slipped her cum covered fingers from her warm, wet hole. 

“Damn, Marcia.” Jacey breathed out.

She sat up on her elbows to look at the mess she made all on her white sheets. A small puddle sat beneath her butt and her cum continued to trickle from her opening. Jacey gathered some of her essence on her finger and brought it to her mouth, sucking it off with a moan of pleasure. Marcia sat back on her elbows in front of Jacey’s open thighs and began taking off her teal green cotton panties. Jacey watched her, noticing a wet strip on the crotch of her panties. Marcia’s pussy lips swallowed the crotch and when she peeled them away to reveal her lower lips, sticky arousal connected to the panties. 

Jacey’s mouth parted slightly. Marcia gave Jacey a teasing wink while licking her own wetness from her panties. She tossed her panties over the edge of the bed and spread her thighs more, scooting as close as she could to Jacey so their pussy could be ‘face to face’. While Jacey’s outer lips and inner folds are more on the plumper side, Marcia’s is smaller; more delicate, with a tiny bud. Her inner lips were engorged and darker in color because of how turned on she is. She had a little triangle patch of jet black curls right above her outer lips but the rest was bare. 

They both explored each other's pussies; rubbing, tracing, and flicking with aroused curiosity. Whenever their low eyes would connect, they would lick their lips and whimper. Jacey dragged her nails through Marcia’s small patch of pubic hair and Marcia lightly stroked Jacey’s clit with her thumb. She increased the pace of her thumb on Jacey’s sensitive bud and gasped when she began to squirt, the juices landing on her vulva. 

“You know my pussy so well, baby,” Jacey spoke softly.

“And you know how to be such a good girl for me,” Marcia forced Jacey’s legs back before climbing on top of her, lining her pussy up perfectly with hers, “Time to bump coochies!”

Their giggles turned into cries of ecstasy when Marcia began to grind, whine, rotate, and thrust her hips at the right angle to make sure their clits collided. It was a wet, slippery dance that created music within the room. Sweat collected on Jacey’s abdomen, surrounding her belly button. Marcia’s back was covered in her own perspiration and it made the canvas tattooed on her skin more vivid. The pleasant musk of their scent made Jacey’s mouth water. 

“Oooh! Yes!” Marcia cried out.

“Are you gonna cum on this pussy, Marcia?” Jacey said, “Cum on my pussy, yes, just like that, right on my clit.” 

“fuuuck!” Marcia lowered her head to kiss Jacey and not once did she stop humping her pussy against Jacey’s. 

“I wish I could see how good this looks! Damn!” Marcia shouted, “Damn, bitch, you’re pussy is so fuckin’ juicy!”

“You’re making me cum again, baby…fuck, oh, shit,” Jacey’s thighs quaked, “Right there, right there, right there— Unh! Ah!”

Marcia grabbed a hold of one of Jacey’s titties and fought through the feeling of her body succumbing to her own climax. Marcia moved her hips in a circle and then lifted her hips to bounce her pussy against Jacey’s. Both of their juices made raunchy noises and the feeling of Jacey’s clit stroking Marcia’s from that angle led to both of them climaxing together. Their tacky skin clung to each other when Marcia collapsed on top of Jacey’s heated body. 

“I’m not finished with you yet,” Marcia spoke with a hushed tone, her warm breath tickling Jacey’s ear.

“Time to bring out Miss Boss,” Jacey said, still trying to catch her breath. 

Marcia fought to lift her body and she almost fell over again when Jacey’s fingers slid between them to rub on her drenched folds. She then inserted one finger, moving it around, creating a wet noise before removing her finger to taste. Marcia watched her with parted lips as she sucked her juices off. 

“Mmm…so good,” Jacey moaned. 

Marcia climbed out of bed and walked over to Jacey’s dresser. She opened the top left drawer and after moving some of her lingerie to the side, she found Miss Boss. The eight inch, purple crystal jelly dildo with realistic textured veins the dildo is attached to a pink harness by an o-ring. Marcia retrieved the strap-on and began securing it around her curvy waist and thick thighs. Jacey opened her side table drawer and grabbed some lube. 

Marcia took her position behind Jacey, fixing her arch and watching her cheeks bounce on the tip of the dildo. After lubing up the entire dildo, Marcia tossed the bottle to the side and without any more time wasted, she pressed the wide tip of the dildo against Jacey’s anxiously waiting canal and slid in with ease. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Jacey’s lips wrapped around the shaft of the dildo and the way her clit looked poked out from behind had Marcia groaning. Her pink and white ombré acrylics sank into Jacey’s booty meat for leverage so she could dig into her pussy deeper.

“Cream all over this dick,” Marcia commanded.

Jacey replied with a moan before throwing her pussy back onto the strap. Marcia slapped her ass each time she went low, praising her for taking the dick so well.

“That’s it…give me that pussy, bitch.” 

Jacey bit her lip and scrunched up her face. 

Her cream added more slickness for a better fuck. Marcia grabbed Jacey by the hips and went to pound town. Jacey’s ass cheeks jiggled out of control and her pussy leaked onto the sheets. Titties bouncing, asses shaking, and their sweet moans was a sight to witness. 

“I fuck you better than any nigga ever will, huh?!” 

“Yes! Oh, yes!” Jacey looked back at Marcia.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby,” Marcia rotated her hips, hitting Jacey’s pussy from a different angle, “That dick hittin’ the bottom of your pussy, slut?”

“Yes mami!” Jacey cried out, eyes tearing up.

Marcia continued pumping Jacey full with Miss Boss, making sure that she felt every inch to remind her who she belonged to. Jacey arched her back more like a good slut and gripped the sheets. She wasn’t running from that strap, and Marcia smirked smugly at that revelation. 

“Shit, I can’t hold it!” Jacey shouted while squirting all over the dildo.

“You tryna keep it away from me? While I fuck you like this?” Marcia questioned.

“Mami, it’s so big and it’s hitting my spot,” Jacey whined. 

“Don’t act scared now, baby. Whenever I bring Miss Boss out, you know what time it is,” Marcia popped Jacey on the ass hard, “Now fuck me back!”

Jacey sat up on her hands and made that ass move like it had a mind of its own. She tossed her pussy back on all eight inches of Miss Boss like she was the boss. Marcia cupped her breasts and thumbed her hard nipples. Jacey took it up a notch and reached back to hold her cheeks open. Marcia took her thumb and rubbed her booty hole before sinking into the tight hole. 

“FUCK.” Jacey slowed down her hips into a slow grind and more creamy goodness coated the veiny shaft. 

“I could cum right now from the way you look,” Marcia said.

“Cum for me, mami,” Jacey spoke seductively.

The friction of the strap hitting Marcia’s clit whenever Jacey bounced back was bringing her to a release. Marcia held onto Jacey’s shoulders and met her hips, the smacking growing louder and louder. 

“Yeah, make this pussy cum, oooh!” 

Jacey’s body seized up and her face smashed into the pillow, her cries and pleads muffled. Marcia lost control and one hand came around to grip Jacey by the neck as her entire body convulsed. The dildo sank deeper into Jacey’s pussy and with one final tug on the dildo, a stream of sticky liquid released all over the bed.

“Look at all this mess,” Marcia admired Jacey’s cream on the dildo and the large wet spot.

“Let me see your pussy,” Jacey turned around on her knees with lustful  eyes. 

Marcia removed the strap-on and crawled next to Jacey to lay on her back. Jacey settled between Marcia’s legs and spread her thighs apart. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Marcia’s slick pinkness and smooth brown outer lips. The further apart her thighs went, the more open her slit became and the more Jacey could see. Jacey’s clit ached at the sight of Marcia’s pretty pussy. Jacey arched her back and pressed her lips onto Marcia’s folds, smothering her with licks, sucks, and kisses. Marcia cried out and clutched for Jacey’s hair. 

“The taste of your pussy on my tongue is driving me crazy, baby,” Jacey whispered.

Marcia forced Jacey’s mouth back on her pussy and she cried out when she began sucking on her clit.

“Shit, Jacey, Fuuck,” Marcia threw her head back, eyes shut tight.

Jacey looked up at Marcia and watched her face contort into a defeated expression. Her hips rolled like she was moving her hips to a slow, freaky beat. Jacey followed her every move, sucking and licking her folds from top to bottom. 

“Keep that pussy in my mouth,” Jacey commanded.

“Marcia brought one of her titties to her mouth and sucked on her own nipple. She raised her hips from the bed and force fed Jacey the juiciest, creamiest pussy. 

“I’m making that pussy cum, Hm?” 

Marcia’s mouth fell open with a silent plea for more. Jacey wrapped her lips around Marcia’s tasty folds and sucked to her heart’s content. Marcia’s eyes rolled shut and her toes curled. 

“It’s coming…it’s coming, oh, fuck,” Marcia pinched and rolled her nipples, “fuck, you’re right on my clit!”

With the intense pleasure, Marcia came in Jacey’s mouth and some of her release slid down her throat. Jacey dragged her tongue between Marcia’s  folds and up to her clit, cleaning her off. Marcia’s head collapsed on the fluffy white pillow behind her, ragged breaths escaping her mouth. Jacey came up for air, wiping the side of her mouth to clean up some of Marcia’s cum. 

They both leaned in for a kiss. Marcia cupped Jacey’s chin and poked her tongue out. They touched tongues and then their lips collided with sloppy desperation. Jacey broke the kiss to stare at Marcia’s lips and then her eyes dragged up to meet her lascivious eyes. 

Six Months Later: 

Temptation. That’s what Erik is to Clayton, that’s what Erik has always been to him. A long distance relationship sadly withered away like ashes from a decaying corpse. To see him in person again overwhelmed him, but also saddened him. He knew they could never be again, and yet the way he stared at him made him weak all over again. Firstly, Erik has a reputation for being a man slag, and Clayton knew that Erik wouldn’t stay loyal for long with him being on the other side of the country. While he was getting bussy in Michigan, Clayton was doing his own thing too. 

Clayton was tempted to punch that fine man in the face for making him feel this way. He watched Erik from his porch lock up his all white Acura MDX, and with a gait that would make any man or woman weak, he strolled over to Clayton’s town home, dressed to impress with sneakers fresh out of the box. In the back of Clayton’s mind, he can hear his family telling him to leave Erik alone. But how could he when his fluffy lips felt so right against his? 

“You miss me, Clay?” Erik whispered.

Clayton’s eyes combed over Erik from head to toe. He loved the tapered locs and the temp fade; very stylish. He wore a cream-colored hoodie and black jeans that hung low in the crotch but tight at the ankles. The diamond studs in his ears matched the diamond tennis necklace around his neck. Erik only dressed up like this to throw Clayton off, make him fall for his seduction. 

“Yeah,” Clayton cleared his throat, “Do you miss me?”

“Do I?” Erik digs his fingers into Clayton’s waist to pull him close and then goes right for the gold, his hand reaching down between his legs. 

“E,” Clayton created space between them, “I’m glad you stopped by but…we can’t do this.” 

Erik elevated a single brow before licking his lips. His eyes roamed from Clayton’s freshly cut glossy black hair, to his full, moist lips, then down to the fitted white beater he wore and the light gray Nike joggers that left nothing to the imagination. He already knew what time it was, why was he acting brand new? 

“So, why did you agree to see me then, Clay?” Erik questioned. 

Clayton turned to open his door, waiting for Erik to enter. Erik gave him a lingering stare before stepping inside. Clayton shut the door to his new townhome, leading Erik inside to the living room. It was nice and cozy. Erik joined Clayton on a black leather sectional that sat facing a wall mounted fireplace with a 72-inch television mounted above it. 

“I haven’t seen you in almost a year, Erik. I’m not going to lie…I did want us to rekindle what we used to have…but it’s best we remain friends.”

Erik sensed how anxious Clayton was and the way he avoided his eyes told him everything he needed to know. Erik didn’t expect for him and Clayton to pick up where they left off, it was too late for that. They were in different directions now. Clayton is seeing someone new, a guy he met online. Erik is single and not looking for anything serious. Clayton was his last serious relationship. He just wanted to start over— new job, new crib, new whip, and a new weed plug. 

“You ain’t gotta explain yourself, bruh. I get it,” Erik rubbed at his nose, a habit of his when he was in an awkward situation, “So, how have you been?”

Clayton chuckled, “Decent. I mended my relationship with my father. Started dating this really nice guy. Too bad I never have time to go see him working two jobs.” 

“Damn, that gotta be tough,” Erik’s eyes landed on Clayton’s lap, “I’m sure he understands.” 

“Yeah…so how’s the new job?”

“I like it. Can’t complain.” Erik said.

“Software engineering, right? You were always tech savvy.” 

“Yep, it’s always great making money doing what you love.” 

Clayton nodded his head, turning away from Erik so he wouldn’t meet his eyes, “Want something to drink?”

Clayton stood from the sofa and headed towards his kitchen. Erik followed him, hands in his pockets and eyes on Clayton’s back muscles and tight ass. 

“Whatchu got?” Erik leaned his elbows on Clayton’s kitchen island. 

“Iced tea, alkaline water, orange juice, something stronger.”

I’ll take some wine if you got it. I don’t need nothin’ too strong, gotta get home in one piece.” 

Clayton laughs, “Since when do you care about that?”

“I’m gettin’ old, Clay. I can’t hang like I used to.” 

Clayton grabbed a bottle of white wine from his countertop and then two glasses from a cabinet. He poured their wine and handed Erik a glass. 

“Too much partying in Boston?” Clayton inquired.

“Way too much,” Erik took a sip of his wine.

“Sounds like you had a good time,” Clayton avoided Erik’s gaze.

“I did…listen, Clay, I’m sorry for how things ended between us. I wish it could have worked out…”

“All good, that shits in the past.” 

Clayton finished his glass and grabbed the bottle, leaving the kitchen. Erik met him back in the living room, kicking off his A1’s. He wouldn’t be able to get through this night on wine alone. He needed his weed and too bad he has the lousiest plug. Erik was expecting to get his dick sucked by the best to ever do it. None of the dudes or chicks in Michigan got a deep throat like Clayton. The thought alone had his dick brick hard. 

“Is it really? Or are you just saying that to avoid talking about it?” Erik questioned.

Clayton couldn’t hide his smile. Those lips.

“Why talk about it? What does it matter, E?”

Erik shrugs, “Because you’re mad tense right now. Like you can’t function around me without doing something reckless…”

Clay tilted his head in thought.

“I’m right. Listen, let’s be honest. You invited me here because you wanted one last taste, am I right?”

“…and it was a mistake,” Clayton shakes his head, “I don’t know why I can’t get over you. I figured if I have you one last time, we can be done with this.”

Erik smiled, “Clay, you know who you’re talkin’ to right now?”

Clayton finally met Erik’s eyes. 

“You ain’t done. Stop bullshittin’.”

“I am, E.” Clayton replied sternly.

“Who you tryin’ to convince? Your new boy toy ain’t enough to get your mind off of me.” 

Clayton shakes his head. 

“If you want it one last time, I’ll give it to you one last time.”

Erik grabbed Clayton’s wine glass and sat it on the table. He gently cupped Clayton’s chin, forcing his light brown eyes to meet his onyx ones. 

“…And I’ll make sure you never forget.” Erik whispered.

Enticement. That’s what Erik is to Clayton. That’s what  Erik has always been to Clayton, it’s just in a much different form now. Erik had hurt him, and he told himself that he wouldn’t go backwards, but when he’d gotten an unexpected call from him a few months prior, old feelings that he’d locked down came seeping through the cracks like a ghostly whisper. While Clayton should be tempted to punch Erik in the face, he couldn’t help but reminisce on the way his lips felt or how good he smelled. 

Erik turned his body causing the leather to creak beneath him, facing Clayton now. His wine glass was empty and Clayton could smell the moscato on his breath. His tapered locs fell over his unkempt brows giving him more of a wilder look. Clayton’s eyes disobeyed him and he glanced down at Erik’s succulent mouth and the way his slick, pink tongue swiped his bottom lip. 

Fuck it. 

Clayton closed the space between them and started sucking on Erik’s tongue. Erik felt blood surge south and he couldn’t help but let go of a shameless moan into the lust laded lip lock. The kiss increased in sloppiness and intensity, both of their hands fisting each other’s shirts and squeezing biceps. Erik digs his fingers into Clayton’s waist to pull him close and then goes right for the gold, his hands dipping past the waistband of his joggers to find his entrance, toying with it while he deepens the kiss. He teased his hole with his finger, causing Clayton to moan. 

“That ass is still tight,” Erik declared with a groan, “I can’t wait to get in that.” 

Clayton looked hesitant for a second but Erik’s finger rubbing his tight hole had him anticipating being bent over and dug out. 

“You know what I miss, Clay. Give me that sweet mouth, Clay…come on…show me you’re still my number one head doctor.”

Clayton’s lips hovered over Erik’s when he reached between them to rub his print. He took it up a notch and unzipped his jeans, reaching inside to pull his length out, stroking him in his hand as his tongue licks deep into his exes mouth. 

Erik’s dick swelled in Clayton’s hand, growing until it can’t anymore, but throbs against his slow stroking fingers as if it wants to. Erik began grinding his hips while pressing his finger right past the restrictive ring of tight muscle, wishing it was his tongue opening up Clayton’s saporous entrance. Erik got all the way down to the knuckle inside of him. 

While Erik’s lips were smothering Clayton’s neck with kisses, Clayton’s eyes were glued to the dick that was once his. It’s still just as beautiful as before. Perfect from the tip down to the heavy balls that Clayton loved to play with. A deep grunt escaped Erik’s mouth when Clayton started stroking the head of Erik’s dick with his thumb. He spread his pre-cum all over the bulbous head and felt Erik twitch in his hand. 

“You knew you wanted this again…Look at you…doing it exactly how you used to…you ain’t forget how to please daddy…”

“How could I forget when you’re the best I ever had?” Clayton whispered wantonly.

Clayton used his free hand to push Erik’s hoodie up, revealing his torso. Clayton eagerly drinks him in with his eyes. Erik had naturally oozing sex appeal. His body is ridiculously chiseled with smooth skin pulled tautly over muscles. Looking at those arms brought back memories of when Erik would easily lift him up and sit him on the edge of any nearby surface had him swooning, his own dick hard and throbbing. 

Erik removed his finger from Clayton’s ass to take off his shirt. Clayton watched with awe as Erik seductively peeled away his hoodie. He began peppering kisses all over Erik’s throat and down to his chest before licking his brown nipples. Erik hissed, his dick throbbing out of control in Clayton’s grip. He wanted that mouth. With his bottom lip between his teeth, Erik did what he used to. He brought one hand up to the base of Clayton’s head and began massaging him there with his fingertips before dragging his fingers down to his neck and back up again. Clayton got the hint and began to drag his kisses over Erik’s abs until he was on his knees between his legs. 

“You gon’ suck me good, Clay?” Erik questioned.

“Yes, daddy,” Clayton said.

“Daddy? I’m still daddy?”

Clayton gave Erik a look that caused him to chuckle.

“Don’t let your new man find that out. You think about me when he fuckin’ that ass, Clay?”

Clayton replied with his mouth sinking lower onto Erik’s dick. Erik thrust his head back and moaned. Clayton used his jaw muscles, tongue, and lips to suck Erik’s 9 inches deep. Working that neck, he would twist his mouth on the uptake, making sure to suck longer on his fat tip. Erik kept his gaze on Clayton no matter how low his eyes were. You’d think he was high by the way his eyes looked. His puffy lips were parted, and he couldn’t stop licking his lips. 

“You showing out, boy,” Erik said, “You suck other dicks like this while I was away, Clay? Don’t lie to me…”

Clayton’s lips popped off Erik’s dick, “I tried, but ain’t no dick like yours.”

“Damn,” Erik sucked his bottom lip into his mouth when Clayton started sucking on his nut sack, “You know that’s gon’ earn you a big nut down your long fuckin’ throat right, nigga?”

“Give it to me,” Clayton spoke between sucks, “Give me that tasty nut.”

“I’ll paint that pretty chocolate face.” Erik said. 

Clayton’s tongue swiped up the base of Erik’s shaft until his lips found Erik’s tip again. Erik brought his palm to the back of Clayton’s head and forced his head down over his dick, guiding him with one hand while his other hand was occupied with playing with his nipples. The guck guck and tight lips had Erik’s eyes crossed. He missed this. Sloppy top. Not one man or woman back in Boston did it like Clayton. He was convinced he’d never find another person to top him. 

“Clay, suck that shit,” Erik’s hips rose from the sofa so he could pump Clayton’s mouth. His teeth sank into his bottom lip hard and he watched with lustrous eyes while Clayton gagged and gobbled him up. 

“Fuck.” Erik thrust his head back, “Here it comes—”

Erik rolled his hips, working his dick in and out of Clayton’s mouth with all his might, body seizing up with his own climax. Clayton knew to stay on that dick. He swallowed it all and left Erik speechless. Dick still solid, Erik wasn’t finished. He raised his hips and pushed his briefs and his jeans off. Bringing his hips to the edge of the couch, he spread his legs and brought his knees up, exposing his smooth ass free of hair. His puckered hole sat exposed beneath his dick and balls and without a word Clayton went right into ass eating. 

He stroked Erik’s tight entrance with his tongue and he would drag it up to his balls. Erik jerked his own dick, focusing on the tip. 

“Put your face in it Clay, stop playin’,” Erik commanded, “Good boy…”

Clayton tongued Erik’s ass so good He had his dick saluted to the ceiling and rock hard. 

“Fuuuck, if you make me cum like this, I’ll return the favor.” 

Clayton gave it his all. Whenever Erik rewarded him with ass eating, Clayton worked overtime to give his daddy what he wanted. Adding a finger, Clayton went right back to sucking Erik’s dick and tonguing his balls. 

“That’s it…look at that juicy mouth…fuck, Clay…Fuuck…Clay I’m about to bust—”

Erik couldn’t even finish his words. It’s been months since he had his ass eaten. Last time it was an ex-girlfriend back in Boston named Cahtrina that he met at M.I.T. She faithfully ate his ass. The best to do it. She could make Erik cum off ass eating alone. 

“Gahdamn, Clay,” Erik let his legs down, “You earned it for sure.” 

Clayton slid his hands down Erik’s thighs, staring longingly at Erik. 

“Are we taking this to my room?” Clayton stood up.

“Whatever you want.” Erik said. 

The door to the townhome opened gently and Danny; Clayton’s boyfriend, entered. Takeout bag in his left hand filled with wings and fries, Danny kicked off his designer loafers at the front door before shutting the door behind him. Danny’s almond-shaped eyes scanned the foyer as he strolled ahead. He made a left turn into the kitchen, hoping to see Clayton there but it was empty. He smooths back his shiny, black, quaffed hair and sits the bag of food on the kitchen island. 

“Clay?” Danny called out. 

He had a busy day as a real estate agent and he wanted to celebrate closing on a property he’d been busting his ass on selling. First thing he did was call up his mom and dad in Korea and then he planned to surprise Clayton that evening. He hoped they could also discuss moving in together since Clayton gave him a key to his new townhouse. Danny left the kitchen to find Clayton and when he entered the living room, his footsteps halted. Netflix was on and the coffee table had two wine glasses on it — one empty. A pair of fresh A1’s sat next to the leather sofa.

Danny stared puzzled, his stomach doing somersaults. He took the stairs, the more he climbed, the harder it was for him to keep it together. When he made it onto the second floor landing, he traveled down the narrow hallway to the master bedroom, and he didn’t have to enter to see everything he needed to see. 

Clayton has a fancy ornate floor mirror overlooking his bed. The lights are dim and the ambiance of the room was purposefully set to compliment the heart wrenching scene before poor Danny. Clayton’s deep mocha skin slick with sweat was arched over the edge of his king sized bed. Danny could see through Clayton’s expression. His eyes were closed but his mouth was agape and spewing incoherent words. The gut-wrenching sound of Clayton’s firm ass cheeks clashing with dynamic thighs filled the room. 

Danny turned his hurt gaze toward the man responsible for his boyfriend’s cries of pleasure. While Danny is more of a slender build, this man before him had to be double his size. Broad-shouldered, well-knit, and dynamic. This is what Clayton wanted. Not some feeble, weak man. A powerfully built man with aggression. 

“Erik…Erik…Don’t stop!” 

Erik. Something in Danny’s mind clicked. The infamous ex boyfriend. 

Danny’s gaze fell to Clayton again, visibly hurt but also turned on. Eyes back on the mirror, he studied the way Erik’s strapping legs flexed. His burly figure Danny envied. He looked up and to his horror, Erik was staring right into his eyes. Danny stood petrified, Erik’s eyes the color of coal burning into his orbs. Despite his focus being on Danny, his hips continued to pump Clayton full of what Danny knew to be the best dick he ever had. A slow, sinuous smirk painted Erik’s mug and the gold slugs decorating his teeth didn’t help situations. 

Clayton wanted to feel disgusted by his boyfriend’s cries or the way his body quivered with pleasure. He wanted to feel disgusted by the way Erik looked slanging dick so good Clayton was professing his love. Danny couldn’t stand there any longer while Erik taunted him with his sinister smirk and unwavering eyes. Danny found the strength to escape and when he did he didn’t look back despite the sound of Clayton’s voice announcing his release. 

“I’m cumming!” 

Clayton came all over the bed sheets and Erik was not too far behind. After three intense thrusts, Erik withdrew his hips and looked down to find his condom filled with cum. Clayton collapsed onto his stomach and Erik stepped away to remove his condom. After tying it in a knot, tossing it in a bin next to Clayton’s mirror, Erik’s eyes lingered on the bedroom door, wondering if Their voyeur was still around. It was exhilarating in the moment to play in the poor man’s face, but now he had to get out of there before things got out of hand. He refused to be around if the boyfriend is still here. 

“Leaving?” Clayton asked, peeling himself off of the bed finally. 

Erik had his jeans halfway on when Clayton gave him a disappointed look. If the turn of events didn’t happen, Erik would be smoking some weed he bought off of a plug earlier in the day. Smoking after sex was his thing. 

“Yeah…I don’t think it’s good for me to stick around, Clay. We both know that.” 

Clayton opened his mouth to protest but closed it when he realized the reality of the situation. Erik excused himself to the restroom and returned to find Clayton putting on a robe, flaccid dick sticking to his thigh from all the cum that sputtered out. 

“I had a great time, Clay…best sex I had in a while…”

“I think it’s best we don’t make this awkward,” Clayton scratched the back of his head, “I’ll walk you out, E.”

Fully dressed — Erik in his clothes and Clayton in a black robe — Clayton walked Erik downstairs. Erik had his eyes searching from left to right for the boyfriend but from the looks of it, he left. Erik wasn’t gonna kick back and wait for him to return. He found his shoes and was able to get his feet in without undergoing the laces. Clayton was looking everywhere but at Erik, avoiding his gaze completely. Maybe he should apologize for being so abrupt with leaving, but what good will that do? Clayton was in for some shit. 

“I’ll hit you?” Erik said.

Clayton opened his door, “Maybe. This shouldn’t have happened…”

Erik chuckled, “Too late for that, Clay. Take care of yourself, homie. You got my number…don’t be afraid to use it.” 

Clayton’s eyes fell to his bare feet. Erik tilted his chin up with his finger, making him look into his eyes.

“Can I get a goodbye kiss?” 

Clayton hesitated, but his lips touched Erik’s quickly and he looked as if he wanted more but instead turned away and shut his door. Erik stood there for a moment while twirling the keys to his whip around his finger. A part of him knew it was wrong for what he did, but was it worth feeling that mouth and ass again? Hell yeah.

Erik jogged down the front steps leading to a concrete walkway. Climbing into his car, Erik cranked it up and the AC hit him causing him to shiver. Erik left as quickly as he could, and when he finally made it out onto the main road, his stomach started growling. After driving for ten minutes, Erik spotted a Wendy’s and quickly turned left into the drive thru. He ordered himself a chicken sandwich meal with a strawberry lemonade. Finding an empty parking spot, Erik sat in his car and enjoyed his meal. 

After a day filled with getting his new place together and last minute shopping, Erik hardly had time to eat. The last meal he had was an açaí bowl. If Clayton’s boyfriend didn’t show up to ruin the party, Erik would have kicked it a little longer and ordered some food. After eating the last of his French fries, Erik placed his trash back in the takeout bag and sat it in his passenger seat until he got home. Turning on the light within his car, he reached in his backseat to retrieve the half-o he bought off a weed plug that was recommended to him by an old friend of his.

Securing his rolling papers, Erik cracked his windows and with his rolling tray in his lap, he started grounding up his weed while listening to Brent Faiyaz. Laying the ground-up bud on a rolling paper, he gently rolled the paper over the top of his blunt cone and carefully added the grounded weed inside. Patting his jeans, Erik found his Zippo Ace High Skull lighter. He sparked up his blunt and hit it. The aroma of the weed was slightly musty and even the taste was off. Erik studies the blunt in his hand before hitting it again.

“Nah, what the fuck?”

Erik grabbed the bag with his free hand and took a whiff. How had he missed it? He knew a bad batch when he saw one. Even the smell would have given it away. The weed was compromised. The weed plug sold him a bad batch. Erik flicked his blunt out of the window and grabbed his phone. He called the plug, his jaw set and nostrils flared.

“Yo,” the plug answered. 

“Nigga, did you sell me some bad weed?”

“Who dis?”

“Oh, now you got amnesia? It’s Erik, fool.”

“I ain’t sell you a bad batch.” 

“Yeah you did. This shit is brown and it smells just like a bad batch.”

“I don’t sell bad weed, you got the wrong guy.” 

“Nah, you got the wrong one if you think you gon’ play me, cuz. I should have known to check this shit before I gave you my fucking money. I want my money back tonight.” 

“I don’t do refunds.” 

“Tonight you will. I want my money back. I ain’t saying it again. I’ll meet you outside and you better bring me my shit, bitch.”

Erik hung up and tossed the bag of bad weed in his passenger seat. He was so filled with rage that he almost drove over a cone in the parking lot. Erik tends to drive recklessly, especially when he’s pissed. On his way out of the parking lot, Erik was about to enter the road when an all black Jeep Wrangler came roaring down the road. Erik pumped on his brakes at the last second causing the Jeep Wrangler to miss his car by two centimeters. The Jeep Wrangler’s horn blared out continuously. Erik felt his chest grow tight and he stared at the Jeep Wrangler with fury. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!!!” Erik barked out. 

The owner of the Jeep Wrangler sped off and Erik was right on their bumper. He skillfully came around to their front where they had no choice but to stop. They stopped with a screech of their tires, a lingering smell of burnt rubber in the evening air. Erik’s heart was racing with how fired up he was. He’d already been upset about the weed and now this driver wants to be an added pain in his ass, almost scratching and denting his new car. He couldn’t see the driver because of the tinted windows, but he could tell it was a woman with the rhinestone encased license plates. 

Erik opened his car door to inspect when the Jeep Wrangler swerved from behind him and sped past him again. Murky rain water from the wet road splashed up and dirtied Erik’s A1’s and the side of his car. Erik hopped out to get a good look at their license plate and although he badly wanted to chase them down, it was too late, they had already disappeared into the night. Erik slammed his car door shut and paced back and forth to calm himself. His fists were clenched and he closed his eyes to try and simmer down but he was seeing red. 

B-B-U-D-D-H-A

One Hour Earlier:

“GET YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Marcia avoided being hit in the face with a dildo that Jacey tossed at her head. Her body was still soaked from being in the shower and the woman she was caught with had rushed out of the apartment with just her red thong with her thing’s bundled up in her arms. 

“YOU LYING, CHEATING ASS BITCH!”

Jacey opened her narrow walk-in closet and any item of Marcia’s she could find she yanked it from the shelves and hangers to toss them at her. Marcia swiftly pulled on a pair of loose fitting sleep pants before she was smacked in the face with a denim jacket. 

“HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID?!”

“Jacey—let me explain—”

“Explain what?! How you ended up on your knees in the shower with a mouth full of pussy IN MY APARTMENT?! An apartment I pay rent in?!!!”

Jacey was a tiny ball of fury. The black hoodie she wore was swimming on her and hiding all of her curves. Marcia stood on the other side of the room with guilty eyes. She couldn’t explain. There was no amount of explaining that could get her out of this situation. 

“I THOUGHT I COULD TRUST YOU AGAIN! After everything I’m going through?! After getting into a stupid fist fight with my brother's baby mama! After the fall out between me and my mom! blaming me for Bella keeping my nieces away from me! And I come home to this?! You eating some bitch pussy?! And for what?! For me to take you back?! Forgive you?!”

Jacey tossed a pair of heels at Marcia who ducked in enough time. The shoes hit the wall hard and put a crack in the drywall. Jacey collapsed against the wall clutching her abdomen, trying her best to catch her breath. Her tawny skin is flushed and she could feel sweat rolling down her spine. Pushing her faux locs out of her face, she stood tall and glared at Marcia through her blurry vision. 

“Get your shit and get the fuck out!” Jacey yelled. 

“Where am I gonna go Jacey?!” Marcia argued.

“See if that bitch you’ve been fucking got a place for you to stay!”

“I can’t go back to my mom, Jace,” Marcia cautiously walked past Jacey to the closet where she retrieved her Puma gym bag to pack her things.

“I don’t care where you go. You can’t be here.” 

Jacey had come home unexpectedly after attempting to spend the weekend with her mom. She hoped to vent to her about the drama between Duke and Bella. Jacey had gone to visit Duke and confessed that Bella was having a baby on him. The hurt on Duke’s face mirrored how Jacey felt. Somehow, word got out to Bella and she showed up at Jacey’s apartment. They got into a heated argument that ended with both of them scrapping in the parking lot. Security had to split up the altercation and Bella didn’t leave without letting Jacey know that she can never see her nieces again. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Jacey. Your brother is already facing so much. You didn’t help by telling him about Bella.”

“If this means I can’t see my grandbabies, we have a problem. Me and you.”

“When will you learn to mind your business, Jacey?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me in my house. You can get your shit and go.”

Jacey didn’t hesitate to leave. The one person she thought would be there to comfort her after a bad day was caught sucking pussy in her shower. She recognized the chick too. A ‘friend’ of Marcia’s that has a boyfriend. That probably wasn’t the first time Marcia brought a woman back to the apartment when Jacey wasn’t there. 

“I can’t take all my shit tonight.”

Marcia tried to get Jacey’s attention but she refused to look at her. If she did, she wasn’t going to fall into her trap. She was going to drag her by her hair out of the apartment herself. 

“Then I’ll leave your shit outside of the door for you to come back for. I want you out of my apartment, Marcia.”

Jacey stormed out of the bedroom and into the living room. She snatched up her white Telfar bag and keys, walking to the door of her apartment to leave. She needed some air and a drive to calm her down. Marcia appeared from the hall with two bags over her shoulders and one in her hand. She’d been crying, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. She had her phone to her ear and a somber expression on her face. 

“Ma, can I stay wit you tonight? It’s a long story…”

Marcia walked out of the apartment and Jacey slammed her door shut, screaming. A kick to her wall from a neighbor seemed to tick her off more. Walking up to her patio that overlooked the parking lot, Jacey could see Marcia lugging her bags to her red Kia. 

“HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY WITH YOURSELF YOU LYING ASS HOE!!!!”

Marcia ignored her and climbed into her car. A few of Jacey’s neighbors that were entering the building stopped to watch her shout obscenities.

“YOU DIRTY BITCH! DON’T FORGET THIS!”

Jacey picked up a rainbow 10 inch dildo and tossed it over the balcony. It landed on the pavement and bounced into the gutter. Her neighbors chuckled and pointed at the sex toy. 

Marcia reversed out of her spot and sped off as quickly as she could to avoid being seen. Jacey didn’t care about her neighbors laughing. That was the last thing on her mind. 

“Fucking dirty bitch!” Jacey shut her patio doors and left her apartment. 

She couldn’t wait to scrub her shower down and clean her sheets. The audacity of that bitch. Walking to her car, Jacey tried her best to fight back tears, but she couldn’t. She crumbled in her driver’s seat, gathering the sleeve of her hoodie to dab her eyes. If she was being honest, she was more so angry with herself about it. This isn’t the first time that Marcia played in her face. 

Jacey started her Jeep Wrangler and drove out of her apartment complex. She didn’t have any idea where she was going to go, so she just kept driving, the smell of rain from the fresh air filling her car calming her down. After ten minutes, her heart steadied to a normal rhythmic pattern. She turned into a nearby shopping center and parked across from a Wells Fargo ATM. 

Jacey opened her bag and grabbed a stack of money to deposit into her account. She locked her car doors and walked up to the ATM to deposit the money. She could feel her phone vibrating in her pocket and she knew it had to be Marcia. Exhaling, Jacey turned to walk back to her car and climbed in. Opening her glove compartment, Jacey grabbed her gold rolling tray and in her bag was a key of mandarin cookies, rolling papers, and a couple cones. The Mandarin Cookies strain is a sativa-dominant hybrid with a sweet, fruity aroma and a taste of tangerine and cookies. She snatched up her yellow Backwoods lighter from her drink holder and started rolling a blunt. 

Jacey toked on her weed and after five puffs she felt a sedating and calming high overcome her. She could taste the citrus and diesel from the hybrid strain and it relaxed her. Uplifted, Jacey ashes out her blunt to finish back at the apartment. Starting her car, eyes dry and vision hazy, she left the shopping center and headed back towards her apartment. Jacey wasn’t focused on how fast she was driving. Anybody in her way needed to make room. She maneuvered her truck like it was a buggie. 

Jacey made a swift turn going at 40 MPH when a white Acura MDX came zooming out of a Wendy’s parking lot. Jacey rammed her foot into the brake pedal, hee bag falling to the floor of the car. She swerved around the car and honked her horn repeatedly to get their attention. She didn’t wait around to see who it was and kept going, but the Acura MDX was right on her bumper. The luxury car came from behind and stopped right in front of her. Jacey gasped, pumping her brakes again just in time. 

“YOU ASSHOLE!!!!” Jacey shouted. 

She wanted to see who the fuck was driving that car. She wasn’t going to step out of the car. Luckily her windows are tinted. When the car door opened, she could tell that it was a man. Jacey quickly put her car in reverse and switched gears, speeding past the road-ragged maniac, sending a puddle of water onto him and his car. Jacey’s mouth dropped open in surprise as she watched her rear view mirror for the driver. When the coast was clear, Jacey broke out into a fit of laughter despite her rapid heartbeat and shaky fingers. 

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[dalamjisung]

Matching Set Masterlist

college!AU

popular!jeongin x introvert!reader

summary: Y/N and Jeongin had been together since birth. Seriously since birth– their mothers were best friends and while hanging out to complain about their never ending pregnancy, bam. Rumor has it that Y/N took a little while to cry, blinking around for a couple of minutes until the gentlest of screams came out of her tiny body. Only later, when the parents got together to congratulate each other, did the mothers found out that Jeongin had been born five minutes before Y/N, and it seemed that her quietness had been her own early way to wait for who would later be her best friend. And as if sharing a birthday wasn’t enough, these two had to share everything else; from their lunch at school to the bed they slept on. Thankfully, as next door neighbors, the trip was minimal.

It continued like this for decades to come, through middle school, high school, and finally, college. Their applications were sent together and their letters came in the same day. Miraculously, they chose different degrees, and for an entire night, Y/N cried to her mom about losing her best friend. Maybe this will be a good experience for you two, she laughed, petting her daughter’s head. But Y/N just couldn’t see a positive side to being without her Innie. Later, they would make a pact– one that vowed to always be there for each other. And he looked so earnest and honest that Y/N just couldn’t understand where that nagging doubt tugging on her heart was coming from…

What happens when these two experience freedom like nothing they’ve ever seen? And what will be of the matching set when they are put apart? Can the lifelong friendship survive the ultimate test of time– college?

update schedule: Every Sunday :D

——————————————————————————————

🌚 chapter one: hyung I’m suing you

🌝 chapter two: fellow clowns

🌚 chapter three: what bothers you, my little freeloader?

🌝 chapter four: forgiven but not forgotten

🌚 chapter five: she doesn’t need me anymore

🌝 chapter six: Mandatory Movie Marathon™️

🌚 chapter seven: delayed reactions

🌝 chapter eight: no turning back

🌚 chapter nine: things are about to change

🌝 chapter ten: another case of innie being innie

🌚 chapter eleven: see you then

🌝 chapter twelve: it’s a date

🌚 chapter thirteen: we need to talk about yesterday

🌝 chapter fourteen

🌚 chapter fifteen 

🌝 chapter sixteen

——————————————————————————————

hi lovelies! I know I have been a bit gone from the fake text scene, but I’ve been working on this for a bit now, and I am really, really excited to share this new story with you all! Han’s story will be going into HIATUS as I’m trying to sort the overall plot and details and will be reworking it after I get my muse back fro Rhythm & Rhyme. Also: there are timeline plot-holes and for that I apologize! Because it’s been a while since I wrote these, there was a mixup with the timeline of all the following stories, so truly, I am sorry-- I’ll do my best to keep everything together neat and tight! Thank you for your love and constant support!

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO GET TAGGED FOR THE RELEASE OF MATCHING SET PLEASE LET ME KNOW AND I’LL START A TAGLIST!

#matching set series #dalamjisung #stray kids #stray kids yang jeongin #stray kids jeongin #stray kids in #stray kids innie #jeongin stray kids #yang jeongin stray kids #stray kids smau #stray kids x reader #stray kids social media #stray kids social media au #stray kids fake text #stray kids fake texts #skz jeongin #skz in #skz yang jeongin #yang jeongin skz #jeongin skz #in skz #skz x reader #skz social media au #skz social media #skz fake texts #skz fake text #skz social au #skz social #skz imagine #skz imagines

[thenerdyfanwriter]

Ya know how the Gallaghers have a piano in their house? Could you please write a request where Gallagher sister oc/reader taught herself to play piano over the years and eventually gets into the Chicago Symphony Orchestra? Thank you✌️

Untitled

Word Count: 828

Pairings: OC!Gallagher! Reader x Gallaghers 

Synopsis: As the fourth oldest Gallagher, Joanna thought she wouldn’t get anywhere in life after graduating. That is until a special letter comes.

Warnings: None

A/N: Wasn’t sure how to end this one. It’s kinda a short one. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

-------------------

I’ve always loved music. Since I was tall enough to reach the piano, I would try to play it. Not many people in my family know how to play the piano. Fiona and Lip know a small bit, but Frank is the one who knows it the best.

I’ve played the piano in the school orchestra since 5th grade. In those years, I’ve participated in competitions and won many of them as well. With it being the middle of senior year, I decided to apply to some orchestras and universities. 

Ever since I was young, it has been my dream to join the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. They were the first Orchestra I auditioned for.  I also applied to the University of Chicago. I’m not very smart like my brother, Lip, but I thought it would be a better chance at doing something with my life if I applied to colleges instead of only orchestras.

I’ve always felt like an outcast in my family of outcasts. I didn’t tell anyone I auditioned and applied to stuff because I don’t want to get their hopes up. 

Timeskip

It’s been almost 5 months since I auditioned for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. I’ve already gotten rejection letters from the colleges and smaller orchestras, so I’m not going to be surprised when I get rejected from this one too.

With it being the middle of June, my high school graduation is coming up in a few days. I still haven’t told anyone about what I’m doing after I graduate because I’m still not sure myself.

While sitting on the couch, Fiona gets home from work and sits next to me. “Graduation is two days away. What are you planning to do after?” She asks me. I knew this conversation was coming. She had the same one with Lip and Ian.

“I already have a job lined up. I start in a week.” I told her. I decided to get a job since I don’t know what I’m going to do.

“OK, that's good.” Fiona gets up and goes upstairs.

Two days Later

Today is the day I’m finally graduating. All my family is here, except for Frank of course. I’m standing in line waiting for my name to be called. There's only a few people in front of me. I’m getting nervous as I approach the stage. Only two people are in front of me now. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.

One person is in front of me. I feel like throwing up. “Joanna Gallagher.” My name gets called. I walk on the stage with my eyes wide. The principal hands me my diploma and I walk away. I don’t bother sticking around for the end, I just run to my family.

“I’m so proud of you.” Fiona whispers in my ear as she hugs me. I can feel the rest of them hugging me as well. “ Let’s go home and celebrate!” Fiona says to everyone.

When we get home, I go up to Debbie and I’s room to change. With the room being so small, we have to sleep on bunk beds.

After changing, I go back downstairs and notice Fiona and Lip on the couch looking at something. I don’t see anyone else, so I assume they went to get party supplies. 

“What are you guys doing?” I ask them. They jump off the couch and Lip puts something behind his back. “What are you two hiding?” I step closer to them.

“We should be asking what you’re hiding Jo.” Lip says. I freeze. Did they find out about the colleges I didn’t get into? Did they find out about my audition for the orchestra?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” They can tell when I’m hiding something. My face gets all red and my eyes go wide when I am hiding something.

“We’re not mad at you.” Fiona takes a paper that Lip had behind his back. “ You should probably read this.” She hands the paper to me and they both go to the kitchen.

As I read the paper, I start to tear up.

Dear Ms. Joanna Gallagher,

We are pleased to say you have been accepted to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. We were very pleased by your audition. If possible, we would love to have you play as our main pianist.

I didn’t bother to read any further. Tears were streaming down my face as I got up and started jumping around. “I got in! I got in!” I was screaming. Fiona and Lip walked back into the living room and watched me. When I stopped, I noticed Fiona was crying too.

“Fi, why are you crying?” I asked.

“It’s just happy tears. We finally got a Gallagher to achieve something great.”

“It’s about time, too.” Lip said, joining the conversation. 

I laugh as I hug both of them. ”Thank you guys for everything.” I tell them. “Without you two, I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere.” 

#shameless x reader #shameless imagine #fiona gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x reader

[luwritesomething]

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Umbrella Link.

Words: 1706

Warnings: bad date.

Summary: you are alone in the rain because you forgot to brin an umbrella. mickey has one, though.

Author's note: OKAY SO I’M OBSESSED WITH SCREAM, and i’ve been writing in ao3 instead of in here because i wanted to get away from my responsabilities and numerous dodge mason request. sorry, i got overwhelmed, but i’m back, and i’m bringing all of my pieces in ao3 with me. here you go. you can find the link to ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39859458

Criticism is appreciated and request are open! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea!

-----------------------------------

College was definitely better than high school. You had never believed your friends back in your hometown whenever they talked about how great university was going to be. How it would change everything, how no one disliked college. You had never had, on the other hand, too much faith on this idea, though. Middle school had been hell and high school hadn’t been any better. Instead of thinking positively, theorizing that college couldn’t be worse than what you had already lived, you stayed on the half empty view. So, arriving at Windsor College and discovering that you had been wrong all along was a pleasant surprise that Derek Feldman, your old friend, would never allow you to forget.

Derek and you had been friends since kindergarten. You wouldn’t know what to do without him, and neither did him without you, so it had been a relief to find out both of you had been accepted into the same high school. Your friendship, however, hadn’t stopped either of you when it was time to find some other friends, and slowly but firmly, the new group of friends strengthened with the friendships that lasted after the first weeks of class. Randy, Derek, Mickey, Hallie, Sidney… You’ve all become inseparable and that’s everything you know by now. 

That, and the fact that it is raining like it’s the last day on Earth and you have no umbrella.

Hallie and Derek told you earlier, before you went on your date, that you should take an umbrella with you but you hadn’t listened. There were no clouds in the sky and you were convinced you would come back to your dorm before the sky could get cloudy. As you had expected, the date hadn’t gone well for you, but the guy talked a lot about himself — so much, you had loathed the sound of his voice only half an hour in. Still, you hadn’t found a valuable excuse to leave earlier than supposed to, and he literally gave you no time to tell him that it was already late and you should head back home. He had offered to walk you home, making a brilliant observation about you not having an umbrella when it was raining cats and dogs, but you had nicely told him you would wait in the coffee shop’s doorway until it stopped. You had no intention of spending more time with that person, ever again, and it had been a relief seeing him finally walk away. It wasn’t a relief, though, that it was still bucketing down with no intention to stop. You were cold, and tired and a bit annoyed by the result of your date.

“Nice weather, isn’t it?” The voice near your ear made you jump on your place, not knowing someone had approached you from behind. You gave Mickey Altieri a dirty look when you recognized him behind his umbrella, a grin in his face. “Whoa, relax, Y/N. It’s just me”

Mickey had been Derek’s first friend on campus. He was his roommate and the two of them had quickly hit it off. He also turned out to be a film student, just like you, but you were closer with Randy Meeks. Mickey was everything opposed to Randy, which meant he was everything that got you a little nervous. His nonchalant playfulness, his flirtatious comments, his easy going but intense personality — it was all nice until you two were alone, when those things focused on you more than usual. 

“Yeah.” You scoffed, burying your hands in your hoodie’s pockets. You avoided his eyes for some seconds before looking back at him, finding he moved from behind you to next to you. “For a duck, it might be”

Mickey chuckled softly and his face lightened up when he did. You didn’t need to look at him to see the wrinkles that formed in his eyes, you’ve already memorized them. He happens to laugh a lot. “Where’s your date, uh?”

“Gone, thankfully.” You said, and that made him chuckle again. Your lip corner twitched gently and you crossed your arms. “No, I mean it. He was so… he only talked about himself, I swear. He literally began by saying he loved how his voice sounds”

“Sounds like a jerk.” Mickey agreed, his smile still shining bright.

“Well, he was pretty sure he was awesome”

This time, you joined Mickey’s chuckles. It was sweetly contagious, and if you looked at the situation with a little bit of humor, it was actually really funny. How many chances did someone have of going to a date where the date was only going to talk about themselves? Self-love was definitely something important, but this guy had crossed some serious boundaries. Mickey’s brain came up with a thousand jokes about what you had told him about the date, but he held himself back from saying them. It was already hard for him to make you laugh, he had no intention of screwing up the little good time you two had together. 

“So.” Mickey pointed at the rain with his chin and then looked at you. “You need some help getting home?”

You nodded softly, and grabbed his free arm when he offered it to you, so you would be better covered by the umbrella — and closer to him. Mickey was warm, probably because he hadn’t been standing outside in the cold like you had been doing. It actually made you pull impossibly closer to him, to feel the warmth and stop being cold. If you had looked up at him to check if he was okay with the proximity, you would have found Mickey smiling as softly as ever, comforted by your easygoing attitude.

“Why aren’t you in your dorm already?” You asked, not wanting the walk to be an awkward, silent one. 

Mickey shrugged his shoulders. “I was taking a walk. You know, calming down and stuff”

You hummed, understanding what he was saying. Mickey had been in an odd mood lately, and he had snapped during the morning, bickering with Hallie about something you hadn’t paid so much attention to due to your Film Theory homework. Him storming out of the cafeteria had been the only thing that had made you look away from your paper, both confused and curious. Hallie looked too angry to ask her anything, and Derek’s eyes had promised telling you what had happened later, but he never did. Sidney and him had a date, and you had been too busy with helping Randy to choose some films to think about what had happened. You had only remembered the incident after Mickey’s answer.

“If you need to talk I’m here, okay?” The words left your mouth without you thinking them twice. You didn’t need to, however, because it just made sense. Friends were there for you whenever you needed them, or they were supposed to. “You’re my friend”

Mickey looked away shortly before flashing you with a well practiced smile. “I know, Y/N”

Once again you hummed, and you allowed the silence to settle between the two of you. As much as you didn’t want silence during the walk, you couldn’t force a conversation on him, and it actually turned out not to be as awkward as you had imagined. Mickey’s aura just kept it from being awkward.

By the time you arrived at your residence hall, the rain had calmed down a bit and changed to a slight drizzle that bothered more than soaked. It was ironic thinking that, if Mickey hadn’t been there to walk home with you, you could have just waited a bit more and come home by yourself. You were still grateful he had decided to take the route he had taken.

You held the door open for him to come inside the building, knowing he wouldn’t have plans for tonight and would rather just stay in his dorm. Mickey thanked you with a smile as he closed the umbrella, and stepped inside with you. 

“Um…” You played mindlessly with your hoodie’s sleeves. “Should I worry about you, Altieri? You seem off”

That was by far Mickey’s brightest smile since you had met him. It actually confused you to see him smiling that hard when he had been so weirdly silent, but you smiled back at him. There was just something about him that set you in a good mood whenever he wasn’t making you nervous. 

“You definitely shouldn’t.” He assured, nodding his head as a thank you. 

“Then I’m going to, uh,” you pointed at the hallway to indicate you were going to leave. Mickey smiled “Yeah. Night, Y/N”

“Night”

You waved at Mickey before turning around. You hadn’t even taken the fifth step when you heard him take a quick step into your direction. “Y/N, wait!”

“Yeah?” You turned around in your heels, tilting your head to the side as you watched Mickey. You saw him hesitate for a second, like he shouldn’t have said anything. “Mickey?”

Mickey scratched his neck and laughed under his breath, nervously. His confidence shattered for those seconds, before he looked back at you with his characteristic, charming smile. 

“I wanna take you out on a date,” Mickey said, surprising you. Your eyes must have widened, because he chuckled shortly. “Is that so weird to you, Y/L/N?”

You scoffed, thinking his joke wasn’t funny at all. That made him raise an eyebrow, which shed doubt into you “Like, for real? A date, date?”

Mickey smiled like you were hilarious. “Yes, a date, date,” he mocked, and you felt the heat rush into your cheeks. “What’d say? Tomorrow morning at the cafeteria?”

Crossing your arms, you licked your bottom lip before letting your teeth nibble at it. You stared at him like he would eventually crackle up, saying it was a joke. But he didn’t, because it wasn’t. “Um… yeah, sure”

“It’s a date, then.” Mickey finger-gunned you as he started to walk towards the other hallway, without turning away. 

“A date,” you repeated, nodding. A smile slid into your lips. “Yeah”

#mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri fic #scream #scream franchise #scream 2 #scream (1997) #fluff #mickey altieri fanfiction #timothy olyphant #he's so fine though #nom nom slashers #slasher fic #writing #my writing

[bumblebugwrites]

chapter 9: two of cups

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x MJ!Original Character

Summary: After a brief run-in with Dr. Connors, Kat and Peter escape to the countryside, where Peter makes an unexpected discovery.

Warnings: NWH Spoilers, Cursing, Vomit (apologies in advance)

Word Count: 2.2k

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

As the pair pulled up the dusty, dirt path, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires could be heard from inside the car. Conversation had long since ceased, and the air had turned to one of apprehension, strangling the previous comfortable silence. Putting the car into park, Kat got out wordlessly to open the gate leading up to a rather quaint-looking farmhouse. 

“Are you finally gonna tell me where we are?” Peter asked slowly as she re-entered the car, pulling it up the driveway before stopping it once more and pulling the keys from the ignition. Kat leaned back in her seat, wincing slightly at Peter’s question.

“Remember when I told you about my dad living super far out?” She didn’t wait for an answer, and Peter didn’t provide one, sensing it was more of a statement than anything else. Exiting the car, the pair moved quickly towards the trunk, grabbing the necessary items before Kat led the way around the side of the home to what looked like a back entrance. Fishing a key from her pocket, she unlocked it before pushing her way inside and stopping in the middle of a rather rustic-looking kitchen. 

“Home sweet home,” mumbled the redhead as she began to move again, making her way down the hall to the left and up a set of stairs. Unaware of what else to do, Peter followed her into a room decorated for a little girl.

“Wow, I have to say I did not peg you for a horse girl,” Peter laughed, picking up one of the many figurines on the dresser. 

“Shut up,” Kat shot back, but her words held no venom.

The pair dropped their duffle bags and began to make their way downstairs. 

“So, where is your dad?” questioned Peter, looking around as though an older man with some strange resemblance to the girl before him might materialize out of thin air.

“With any luck, gone,” she muttered darkly in response as she reached the cabinet beside the fridge and began to root through it.

“You looking for something in particular?” 

“Nothing, I can’t find myself, Parker,” Kat sighed before pulling out a half-full bottle of vodka. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” 

The redhead made quick work of the cap and did not even move to find herself a glass, electing instead to bring the bottle straight to her lips. She then offered it to Peter.

“Oh no, I can’t,” Peter reasoned, shaking his head. Kat simply lifted a questioning brow. 

“I can’t. I have you to think about.”

“What?”

“I’m here to protect you, I’m not sure now’s the time for me to get intoxicated.” Kat laughed. It was a hearty laugh, but there was a bitter tinge to it.

“If anyone’s been protecting anybody lately, it’s been me looking after you.”

“That’s not-”

“I’m sorry, did I not just take out that lizard guy? Twice?” Peter simply balked at her.

“Besides, we are miles away from the city, in the middle of the New York countryside. I think the universe will be alright if Spider-man does a couple of shots with me.”

“It’s not just that,” Peter sighed.

“Okay, so what is it?” Kat demanded.

“I’ve never- I’ve never really gotten drunk with somebody before,” he managed, though his voice was soft with embarrassment. The girl before him let out a strangled laugh.

“Not even at a party?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I was not that cool in high school,” Peter smiled weakly, bringing a hand up to scratch nervously at the back of his neck.

“What about college?”

“I didn’t go,” he admitted, now fully unable to look her in the eyes. 

“Well, I suppose it's never too late to start a bad habit,” Kat shrugged, extending the bottle to Peter once more. And this time, he took it.

Two hours later, the pair sat together on the couch, an empty bottle of vodka between them. Peter felt distinctly that being drunk felt like watching a movie from the 70s; everything was warm and blurry. In the corner of his mind, he thought he could hear Kat snorting lightly at some joke he’d just made, but as he turned to face her, it was as though everything else had fallen away, and he was once again struck by just how beautiful she was. Her eyeliner, a relic of the morning, was smudged around her eyelids, and her hair bunched around her face in a messy halo. She was positively glowing, and Peter felt his skin begin to tint red as he lost himself in her smile.

Distantly, he registered that the radio show playing in the background had transitioned into a slower song, a thought Kat dragged to the forefront of his mind as she bounced to her feet.

“I love this song! Dance with me, Parker,” she smiled, extending her hand in his direction. Peter groaned loudly at the suggestion but placed his hand in hers regardless, allowing the smaller woman to pull him to his feet. Kat brought her arms up to his neck, lacing them around the back, but Peter only stood there stiffly. 

“You’re supposed to put your hands on my waist, not just stand there motionless, you freak,” she giggled, moving his hands to her hips before beginning to guide him around the living room with haphazard steps and a slight swaying motion. 

“You know you’re pretty cute when you’re not covered in spandex, saving the world,” she said, eyes unfocused as they shifted away from Peter’s gaze.

“Not a fan of the suit?” he asked, tone conveying his mock offense. 

“Oh, I used to think you were the cutest; I had your poster in my room and everything,” Kat let slip before her eyes grew wide, and her mouth formed a regretful ‘o’ at the information she had just let slip.

“And here I thought you were just a One Direction fangirl,” Peter teased, a grin making its way across his face.

“Shut up; I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” she groaned, allowing her head to fall forward and hit his chest. 

“No, really, I’m curious; what was it about me that stole your heart? My witty banter or my charming personality?”

“Honestly, it was your cute butt,” Kat admitted, though her words were muffled as she spoke them into his chest.

“Wow.” Peter laughed, and Kat stole a glance up at him. 

“You can never tell anyone I said that,” she whispered, an embarrassed flush spreading its way across her skin. 

“Who would I tell anyway?” Peter whispered back, lowering his head so they were face to face. He would feel her breath as it fanned across his cheeks, hot and reeking of alcohol.

“I hate you,” she squeaked, but there wasn’t an ounce of truth to the words. 

Peter leaned in closer. Their noses brushed against one another. He watched her eyes flutter closed.

“You wish,” the half-hearted whisper seemed to echo between them, bouncing straight off his lips onto hers. Just an inch closer, he thought. Suddenly, Kat wrenched herself from his grip, and his half-lidded eyes flew open just in time to catch her throwing up all over his feet. 

“I am so sorry.” Kat had been spewing apologies for the last half hour, and now, as the two sat in front of the washing machine, simultaneously praying it might wash the vomit out of Peter’s Chuck Taylors was no different.

“God, I am so embarrassed; I’m usually very good at holding my alcohol. I know it probably doesn’t seem like it, but I’m serious-” 

“Kat, it's fine, really,” he assured her once more, though he was certain this attempt to calm her down would be just as futile as all the rest.

“Urgh, it is so not fine; I just threw up all over you.” She buried her face in her knees. 

“How about we just go to bed? I’m sure all of this will be far less disgusting after a good night of sleep,” Peter offered. 

“You’re probably right.” 

“I’m definitely right,” Peter replied, playfully nudging her shoulder with his own. 

Slowly, Kat rose to her feet before padding towards the door. She paused after noticing Peter was not following.

“You coming?”

“Nah, I’ll take the couch for tonight.”

“Alright, loser, whatever makes you happy.”

As he settled slowly onto the couch, Peter couldn’t help but ache for the soft lighting of the bedroom he’d shared with Kat. For the quiet sound of her half-snores and the warmth that inexplicably bloomed in his chest every time she turned to face him. Taking a deep breath, he turned in the direction of the couch’s back cushions, allowing himself to be lulled into an uneasy sleep by the distant clicking of a grandfather clock. 

To say he was jerked awake would be an understatement. The harsh jab on his back was easy enough to ignore the first time and even the second, but as he felt the cool end of an unknown object butt against his back a third time, he couldn’t help but roll over, if only in an attempt to brush it away. Struggling to peel his eyes open, it took him fifteen seconds longer than average to notice the shotgun pointed callously at his face. 

“Holy fuck.” Scrambling as far back as the couch would allow, he got his first look at his assailant. The man, probably nearing his sixties, had a firm scowl painted across his face and was eyeing Peter with all the caution and rage one might fix a piece of prey with. And yet, Peter also couldn’t help but register the sense of familiarity that befell him as his eyes scanned the face of this man he had supposedly never met. He looked a lot like-

“Kat!” He called up the stairs, eager to be relieved of the gun in his face. Before him, the man’s brow creased, but his gaze quickly darted away from Peter at the sound of footsteps on the staircase.

“Dad?” 

Peter supposed there had been few occasions in his life as awkward as having breakfast with the father-daughter combo sat at the table beside him. 

“So, Mr. Jennings-”

“It's Mr. Peterson.”

“Jennings is- was my mom's last name.”

Both spoke at the same time, their matching cold tones equally alarming.

“Right, er- Mr. Peterson, my name is, well actually, this is pretty funny, my name is Peter. Get it? Peter, Peterson?” He quickly trailed off as he found himself on the receiving of two nearly identical glares. 

“Anyways,” Kat began, her tone all business, “We were just about to pack up and go, so we’ll be out of your hair soon.” She cleared her throat, picking up her half-empty plate, and moving towards the sink. Peter watched as the older man’s features softened, gaze fixed on his daughter.

“Murph-” Peter barely caught the name that slipped past his lips before Kat slammed the plate in her hands down into the sink.

“I told you not to call me that!” Immediately, any previous traces of sincerity or wistfulness vanished from Mr. Peterson’s face. 

“Feed the chickens before you go.” The command was gruff and curt, a demand rather than a question.

“Whatever,” Kat rolled her eyes, moving quickly through the kitchen and out the door, pausing only momentarily to grasp the handle of a rusty tin bucket by the door.

“Good talk,” Peter muttered below his breath but quickly broke down into an awkward half-smile at the sight of Mr. Peterson’s intense glare. “Would you look at that? I think she forgot her jacket; why don’t I just go take that to her.” 

Standing quickly from the table, Peter reached out to the hooks beside the back door, grabbing his and Kat’s winter coats in one swift movement. 

As he arrived at the barn out back, he easily caught sight of Kat, half clutching her arm in the bare New York cold as she scattered feed across the ground for the group of all too-excited chickens.

“You forgot your coat, Murph,” he joked lightly, extending the rather lumpy piece of clothing to her.

“Oh fuck off, Peter,” she rolled her eyes but accepted the coat without argument. 

“God, it’s so dumb; I changed it legally years ago; he’s the only one who won’t just call me Kat,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“Your name is Murph?”

“Murphy. Fucking old man's name. It was my grandpa’s, I think my dad thought if he wished hard enough, I’d come out a boy.” She snorted at the sentiment before turning to Peter, but he wasn’t listening. He wasn’t thinking about anything except MJ. His MJ who didn’t exist in Aunt May’s stupid Yellow Pages from forever ago, but it didn’t matter because it led him to Kat. Kat, who was passionate and funny and beautiful, and looking at him right now like he was insane (justifiable, of course, given his gawking). Kat, whose last name was Jennings, and whose first name, against all odds, was Murphy. 

“You’re MJ?”

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield peter parker #andrew garfield spiderman #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman #tasm fanfiction #tasm #tasm!spiderman fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #tasm!

[bihansthot]

Can you write a story of how your OC first met Bi Han? I’m curious & most stories I’ve read about him always had a relationship already but not how it started. Thank you! Also your work is great!

Thank you so much for the request and the compliment lovely! I’ve danced around the story of how Bi-Han and I met and alluded to it here and there over the years but I suppose I’ve never really told the full story. It all started 15 years ago when I graduated college, obviously, this is a fictional story but it’s based on my actual background. There’s no warning for this story it’s purely an innocent first meeting, there’s a bit of fluff maybe. 🥰

The year is 2008 and I had just graduated from the University of Michigan with my dual bachelor’s of Arts in Asian Studies and Japanese. I was excited but scared at the same time, I had spent the last four years living out my dreams in a safe and happy environment away from my very emotionally abusive, narcissistic, alcohol-dependent mother and now I had to face her again. I wasn’t fortunate enough to find a job right out of college so I had to move to Florida, somewhere completely foreign to me as my parents had retired and moved during my Senior year. I was motivated and determined not to stay any longer than I had to so I began hunting for jobs right away. My Japanese teacher had always encouraged me to be an English teacher in Japan and after spending my Junior year abroad at Nagoya Gakuin University I was very eager to go back to Japan. I wanted to see my friends, to see my crush to maybe finally have the courage to confess my feelings to him which I had been too shy to do when I was there at school. As fate would have it though I would keep getting turned down over and over for teaching English in Japan ironically because I spoke Japanese too well and companies were worried I wouldn’t be a good enough English teacher when I could communicate with the students in their native language.

Months went by and things between my Mother and I got worse and worse, my eating disorder from high school resurfaced in a desperate attempt to gain my mother’s approval. Through very unhealthy eating habits and excessive working out, I dropped almost 110 pounds in the year I was stuck at home with my parents. I was working at a local grocery store while I kept applying to companies to live abroad, finally after months and months of waiting one got back to me. I was elated, but there was only one catch, they wanted me to teach English in a tiny rural village in China, Fengjian was the name, which meant nothing to me because I had certainly never heard of it. In a move that shocked even me I jumped at it, terrified of change or anything unknown little Sol emphatically agreed to the teaching position in a heartbeat. The company would cover my living expenses, school expenses, and food expenses plus pay me a stipend on top of all that just to teach adorable little Chinese middle schoolers English. It felt like the answer to my prayers, the only problem was leaving my Dad. As bad as things were with my Mother, I loved my Father dearly and the idea of being so far from him indefinitely scared me, especially since just a few years prior he had a heart attack. I gathered my courage though and decided for my sake I had to put myself first for once and get away from my awful home life.

My parents were of course surprised with my decision, they weren’t surprised I was moving abroad to teach English, but they were surprised I was going to China and not Japan. They tried to talk me out of it but my mind was made up and I couldn’t be swayed. The next few weeks were kind of a blur as I got rid of things and sold things and packed everything important to me into two big suitcases. My parents took me to the airport and I bid my mother a farewell and sobbed as I hugged my father and told him goodbye. The flight was insane and had so many different transfers, first I flew to my home away from home Detroit then Detroit to Narita, Narita to Guangzhou and then I had to take the bus through the picturesque countryside for what seemed like an eternity until I finally arrived in Fengjian. I had traveled well over 24 hours and was completely exhausted when I arrived but I couldn’t rest yet. I arrived in a beautiful little village made of picturesque wooden houses that looked like they hadn't been touched since the Ming dynasty. My heart lurches at the beauty as I’m reminded of watching Fushigi Yuugi countless times with my best friend when we were in high school. “Oh how proud my little Miaka would be of me,” I whisper to myself taking in the beautiful surroundings, breathing the fresh mountain air. I am suddenly unsure what to do, I have the school’s contact information and my landlady’s number but my phone doesn’t work here. Just as I’m about to panic though an individual introduces themselves to me in slightly broken English indicating they are from the company I work for. They actually sent a local to pick me up from the bus station and get me settled in. I was elated and followed them dragging my heavy suitcases behind me as we quietly wound our way through the lovely little village. We climbed up the bank of the beautiful riverfront to a quaint dwelling, I was immensely grateful for their help with my lovely landlady Mrs. Fong who spoke very little English but did have an adorable Pekingese. Once I was finally in my little apartment on the hillside, overlooking the beautiful, slow-moving river that ran through the little village I passed out despite my stomach’s angry protests.

The first few months were lonely and exhausting, everything seemed so overwhelming. I was in the middle of nowhere, in a village where no one had met a foreigner before, and was unable to speak the language. It made everything complicated, it was my day off and I decided to go to the marketplace and try and find my favorite snack for lunch. I had managed to pick up a few very basic phrases thanks to my fellow teachers and with the help of Mrs. Fong, I did feel a little guilty about not seeing Madame Bo but I promised I would visit her for dinner. She was always so kind to me and was one of the few people in town who could speak a fair amount of English. If it weren’t for Mrs. Fong and Madame Bo I probably would have given up and gone back to America but I persisted, even with the complexities of the long hours my job required of me and the language barrier it was still so much better than life in America. “Alright, Mrs. Fong told me there was an uncle in the market who sold the best char siu bao, and today’s the day I’m going to find him!” I give myself a pep talk before grabbing my keys and mini backpack and heading out the door.

I follow the beautiful river until I’m in the heart of the village and make my way toward the market, I have been there a handful of times but I usually only visited the butcher and the noodle lady, finding the prepared food was a new adventure. I weave in and out of the crowded streets and stalls, all too familiar with the shock and awe a tall, busty, platinum blonde causes in China. I look around everywhere for the food stalls before clumsily asking one of my fellow patrons, “char siu bao,” I ask and mime the action of eating one. The old man looks me up and down and just grins lecherously, thankfully for me though a kindly old woman had overheard my query and steers me away from him and points me in the right direction. I look around at the stall before I spy the one I’m looking for, I may not be able to speak Chinese but that doesn’t mean I can read a fair deal of it since Japanese borrows much of their written language from Chinese. I make my way over to the cart and hold two fingers up as I repeat my simplistic phrase before adding “qing” to it. The middle-aged man smiles and asks for 6 yuan and I open my purse to start to count out the coins

It’s not long before I hear what sounds like cursing and angry Chinese coming from the man behind me. Worried I was taking too long to count my change I turned around to mumble “duibuqi duibuqi,” to him what I was not expecting was to face to chest with this man. I’m startled, to say the least as I was around the same height as most men in the village, I look up and I’m certain my jaw hangs slack as I’m looking at the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life. His jet black hair wound back into a tight bun, his ethereal ice blue eyes staring down at me as he slams two yuan down on the stall and grabs my bao plus another two. He hastily forces mine into my hands as he stuffs one in his mouth and drags me away from the stall. “I, I wha? What’s happening?!” I exclaim struggling in his freezing cold grasp as he pulls me to the little plastic stools by the roadway.

“That asshole was charging you six times over just because you’re a clueless foreigner,” his gruff, deep voice all but snarls, as he bites off a large mouthful of the fluffy, sweet bao.

“I, what? For-for real? What a creep! Th-thank you,” I reply softly and I can feel my cheeks flushing with color as talk with this handsome stranger who shockingly spoke perfect English.

“You’re new around here, aren’t you? Name’s Sub-Zero, you must be the English teacher my brothers were talking about seeing at Madame Bo’s,” he deduces in the two minutes of talking to me.

“That obvious huh? Yup, that’s me. I’m Sol, I teach English at the middle school up the road. I go to Madame Bo’s pretty often but I think I would have remembered someone like you there before,” I mumble enjoying another bite of my bao, trying not to embarrass myself too much.

“Unfortunately I, mm work more than my brothers do and have little time for fraternizing at Madame Bo’s,” he chooses his words carefully as he answers, his eyes shifting slightly as he speaks.

“Oh? What do you do? Anything fun?” I ask innocently enough, enjoying having my first conversation since moving to China.

He just laughs, “that unfortunately is classified, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He smiles at me, his beautiful white teeth are dazzling.

I give him an odd look and turn my attention back to my bao not realizing I had managed to smear some of the delicious BBQ pork filling on my cheek.

Sub-Zero cocks his head to the side and gives me a very confident smirk before leaning in to press his bizarrely cold lips to mine. His cold tongue worked its way across my cheek, cleaning away the leftover bao before pulling away mischievously.

My eyes fly open wide and I blink rapidly before bringing my hand up to my lips. My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest as my breath comes out in condensed little puffs and I’m left shocked by my first kiss.

Sub-Zero shoots me a wink, “you’re a messy eater. See you around, Sol.”

Before I even have time to process what was happening I’m left completely alone. I look around frantically and see no signs of Sub-Zero and my heart drops. I munch slowly and quietly on my second bao in silence, already missing his deep voice and pleasant company, hoping this won’t be the last time I meet Sub-Zero.

#mortal kombat #bi han #sub zero #sub zero x me #solarbear #bi han x sol #self shipping #self ship #f/o x s/i #f/o imagines #first kiss #romantic f/o

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

The Wormhole, Part 1

Long time no see, Tumblr friends!  To put it simply, college and real life have been my focus for these past few months and now that things are (hopefully) slowing down a bit for the summer, I hope to maybe scroll this hellsite more often than once a month.  

Writer’s block has also been defeated (for the moment) and I’ve got a fun new story in the works.  This one here is just one I’ve been sitting on for awhile.  Enjoy!  

Character Relationships:  Thorin Oakenshield x Modern!Female OC

Content Warning(s):  Mentions of manipulative behavior from an ex-boyfriend and his appearance.

Summary:  Reverse of the “Girl falls into Middle Earth” trope.  Thorin finds himself mysteriously transported to the modern world after surviving BOTFA and winds up in the care of a New York Academy of Arts teacher, Estel Cavanah.  She has no idea why this man is so incompetent with the day’s technology.  

“…And as you can see, the honey shade matches up pretty well with Nashville blue.  The darker tones cool the orange.”  I paused to glance at the clock on the other side of the room.  The neon red numbers signaled the looming end of my class period.

Or, by the way my students were shuffling in their seats and surreptitiously packing away pen and paper, perhaps it was more of a couldn’t-come-soon-enough.  

“Seeing as we are almost out of time, I’ll let you all go. See you on Friday!”  I smiled as the room immediately erupted into a flurry of movement.  The students, all eager to head home to relax at the end of a long day, feverishly packed up the last of their things and filed out of the room.  It was almost insulting how quickly they wanted to leave my class.  But I could understand their hurry; I had been a student once, and no matter how much I loved art, sometimes I couldn’t wait to get out of the classroom.

I turned to my own desk to pack up my stuff for the day, only to pause when a knock broke the silence.  Annoyance sprung to life at the thought of having to spend more time here when I could be at home.

Slowly, I turned around, wondering what student had dropped by.  But it wasn’t a student.  The person wasn’t even a resident of the state!

“Zach, what are you doing here?!”  I asked incredulously, unable to believe that the man was even standing in my doorway.  “You live in North Carolina!”  

“I came here to talk with you,” he said.  I shot him a look.  

“Zach, there is a reason phones were invented. Besides, what is so important that you come up to New York without calling me?”  I asked, propping my hands on my hips.  Then another thought occurred to me.  A much darker and more disturbing thought.  “How did you even know where I was?  We haven’t talked since high school!”

Zach just shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he walked further into my classroom.  “That’s not really important, Estel—”  

“Oh, I really think it is…”

“…I just wanted to see if you wanted to get back together.  I think we made a mistake when we broke up.”  Zach kept walking, and I began to feel the cold chills of anxiety trickle down my spine.  I stepped behind my desk, putting it between me and him.

I really didn’t think he would do anything, but at the same time, it felt like a very real possibility.

“Zach, we dated in high school.  We’re adults now.  If it didn’t work out then, I don’t think it will work out now.  Now, get out of here before I call security.”  I made a show of picking up my cell phone and unlocking it.  

He stopped walking, finally taking his hands out of his pockets to raise them in the air.  “Woah, slow down girl.  Let’s just talk, okay?  Just because we didn’t work out in high school doesn’t mean we won’t work out now.”

“I really don’t think it does…  And don’t tell me what to do, Zach.  You’re the one who’s shown up out of the blue after stalking me!” My finger hovered over the keypad on my phone, waiting to dial the campus police.  

“I’m not stalking you!”  The words burst out of Zach like an avalanche.  Immediately, his face became apologetic, and he took another step towards me.  “I’m sorry, that was rude of me, Estel…”

Instantly, I was brought back to my days as a high schooler trying to figure out both my life and manage a boyfriend at the same time. Everything pointed towards us becoming high school sweethearts.  Then one day the daydream shattered.  I was introduced to just who my boyfriend really was, and he wasn’t the man I had thought he was.  

Early on in our relationship, he’d stood behind me in my goals and dreams.  When I said that I wanted to be a teacher, he told me to follow my heart.  But when the topic came up again a few months later, he wasn’t as supportive.  

To put a long story short, he wanted to get married young and start a family.  My going away to college in a different state would put a damper on his goals.  That made me the selfish one in the relationship.

And he didn’t want that.  He did his best to hold on to our relationship and convince me to stay with him, but in the end I had to be true to myself and follow the path my heart was leading me on.  

I wasn’t sad when it ended; I felt freer than I had felt in what seemed like forever.  And the saying about hindsight being 20/20 was a constant presence in my mind as I went over our relationship.  I noticed manipulative behaviors that I hadn’t picked up on before. I realized how lucky I was to get out of it early.  To be true enough to myself not to give up my dreams for a guy.

Gathering my courage, I slipped my laptop into my bag. “No, I don’t want to hear anything from you.  We aren’t ever getting back together, Zach.  I don’t even know why you would think that.  Now, I have to go.”  Grabbing my bag, I slung it over my shoulder.  Holding my phone—keypad at the ready—I marched past Zach.

I left him behind just like I had all those years ago.  No glances over my shoulder for one last glimpse.  I just wanted to go home where I felt safe.  

The walk to my car had never felt longer, even in the broad daylight.  Clicking the button on my fob to unlock it, I pulled open the door and threw my bag in before climbing into the driver seat.  As I sat and collected my bearings, a niggling thought rose in my brain.

If Zach knew where I was teaching, chances were he knew exactly where I lived.  Right down to the apartment number.  

All of a sudden, home no longer felt as comforting. It felt dangerous to go back to, despite how much I wanted to.  And I had no choice.

Scanning the parking lot, I pulled out of my space.

~~~

I showed up early at the stable I worked at part-time, not feeling safe at my apartment.  Coincidentally, it was also owned by my brother who was too busy managing the family estates down in Havana to spend much time managing it.  That job fell to me as his little sister.  

The black sheep of the family.

I could only hope that Zach didn’t know about it. Maybe I could buy a sleeping bag and camp out in one of the empty stalls for the night…  Or text Ash and see if I could crash at her apartment for the night. She wouldn’t refuse me.

At least, not if her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Mike, wasn’t around.  Then I really didn’t want to be in the same flat.

Pulling out my phone, I unlocked it and began typing out the message to her when the bugling of a stallion ripped through the air. I frowned, the noise out of place at the normally serene stable.  

Then I heard the screaming.  

Shoving my phone in my pocket and throwing open the door, I bolted out of my car and towards the one pasture that contained a stallion.  The most ill-tempered beast I’d ever had the displeasure of handling.  Although, given that I didn’t get involved too much with horses, wasn’t really saying much.

Quickly catching up to a teen who was also hurrying towards the commotion, I grabbed their arm to stop them.  “Grab a lead rope!”  I gasped before taking off again.  I could only wonder which cocky new teenage boy had decided that he would be the one guy Ferrari—the stallion—liked.  

And exactly how much legal trouble I was about to get into.

Turning the corner to the gate of the paddock, I stopped and did a double take.  The man currently dangling from the mouth of the bay stud definitely was not one of the kids employed here.  Nor did he look like the sort that frequented prestigious stables like this one.  He looked more like a well-kept hobo than anything.

“GET THIS BLOODY HORSE OFF ME!”  The man bellowed, catching sight of me standing like an idiot on the outside of the paddock.  

I snapped out of the daze I’d gone into and looked around wildly for the stable hand I’d stopped earlier.  “Where’s a lead rope!?”

I was answered only by a stream of curses from the man as Ferrari shook him like a ragdoll.  Then pounding footsteps heralded the arrival of the kid with a lead rope.  

Snatching it out of his hand, I jumped the fence and sprinted towards the grappling pair.  “Ferrari!”  I screamed, trying to get his attention on me and away from the unknown man.  “Ferrari!”  

But the stallion paid no attention to me and continued to grind his teeth into the shoulder of the man he had cornered.  

As Ferrari tightened his grip, the man swung at him, calling him a variety of colourful names as he tried to pull away from the stallion.  

I darted in, clipping the lead rope onto Ferrari’s halter.  Then I swatted his rump with the end of the rope to get his attention.  Instantly, Ferrari dropped the man and went after me. Jumping out of the way of his teeth, I waved my hands at the man now crumpled on the ground.

“Get out of the pasture!  Go!”  I yelled at him, dodging Ferrari again.  “He hates men!”  

The man didn’t move, and I began to worry about what it would mean if he was dead.  Probably more legal troubles than if he was injured, that was for sure.  Beckett was going to be absolutely thrilled.  

“Estel, I’ll take him!”  A feminine voice called, and I shot a quick glance over my shoulder towards the stable.  Chelsea—one of the most experienced horsewomen employed here—was jogging towards me.  

As she approached, Ferrari began to calm down.  Chelsea had a way with him that none of the other female employees had.  His ears were stilled pinned tightly back and he danced in place, but he wasn’t trying to bite me anymore.

“Hey, Ferrari…”  She cooed, taking the lead rope from me, and stroking his nose.  Ferrari snorted suspiciously.  “Come here, boy.  Let’s get you inside, huh?”  She pulled gently on the rope and led Ferrari away.

That left me with the unfortunate man who had found himself in Ferrari’s pasture.  As I ran over to him, he suddenly pushed himself up off the ground, clutching his shoulder and grimacing in pain.

“Sir, are you alright?”  I asked, dropping onto my knees beside him.  From a distance, he’d looked like one of the bums that littered the streets of New York, but up close was a different story.

He obviously had some concept of hygiene—he certainly smelled nice—and his beard was neatly trimmed.  And as he raised his head to look at me, he revealed startling blue eyes that pierced me with a distrusting gaze.  

“I’m fine.”  He spat in a voice that carried the thickness of an unfamiliar accent.  “Where am I?”

“Blacktop Stables in New York.  Now, I think I should take a look at your shoulder. Ferrari is a man-hater, and it looked like he had you good.”  I reached out to gently pull his hand away from his shoulder.

He let out a short laugh.  “Horses have never liked me.  You have healer training then?”  He asked, resisting my attempts to pull his hand away so I could look at Ferrari’s handiwork.

“If by healer training, you mean medical training, then yes, I know a little.”  He dropped his hand, revealing a slobber-soaked fur vest.  “Umm…  I think I’ll need you to remove your shirt…”  

He grunted, unbuckling the belt that held the vest closed before shrugging it off.  A dark blue, velvet looking coat followed directly after.  The movement of his arm caused him to grimace and let out a hiss of pain.  Beneath it was a metallic sort of shirt that looked like some sort of armor.  He pulled the armor shirt over his head, leaving him in only a blue shirt that reached almost to his knees.  

“Blast…”  He hissed through clenched teeth.  Gingerly, he lowered his injured arm back to his side.

By this point, I felt like I was watching the clothing version of a clown car.  I couldn’t help but wonder if he had another two shirts underneath this one.  

Unbuttoning what I guessed was called a ‘tunic’, his upper body was finally revealed.  And it made the artist in me want to weep tears of joy.

If ever there was a perfect body, he had to have it. Thick, muscled arms hung from broad shoulders.  There wasn’t a speck of fat on his torso to hide the chiseled abs this man possessed. And he was able to make it look like the most natural thing in the world, unlike some of those shirtless male models I had tried to use as inspiration in the past.  

“You said you have healer training?”  

The distinctly masculine voice broke me out of my…reverie.  Quickly, I focused my gaze on his face.  Away from the abs that I was itching to sketch.  

“Uh, yeah.  Let me take a look here…”  I peered at the bite mark on his shoulder.  Ferrari had left him deep indents of his teeth, but the skin hadn’t been broken.  Already I could see the purple bruising characteristic with horse bites forming in a wide circle around the bite marks.  His excessive layers of clothes had saved him from a much worse injury.

Not that he wouldn’t go through hell in the coming weeks.  Bites of this severity literally made you unable to move the arm without excruciating pain for weeks.  

“Will I live?”  The question was quiet, and I glanced up to see a whisper of a smile on his face.  Oddly, I got the sense that this wasn’t an unfamiliar question for him to ask.  

“I can almost guarantee you will,” I shot him a small smile.  “Just put some ice on it, take some ibuprofen, and try not to use that arm much for a few weeks.”

He frowned.  “Ibuprofen?  What is that?”

The fact that he was unaware of one of the most basic over-the-counter drugs was baffling.  Everybody knew what ibuprofen was!  

“It’s a medicine you can take if the bite hurts too much.  And from what I’ve heard, a bite like yours hurts like hell.”  I explained, leaning back on my heels.  “If you aren’t able to get any, I could give you some.”  

“No, I’ve had worse than a horse bite.”  He dismissed my offering.  “Now, you said we were in someplace called New York?  Is that on the Anduin?”

I stared at him.  “The Anduin?  I’ve never heard of that.  New York is a state in the United States.  East coast?”  

The look I got back told me he’d never heard of any of it.

This whole thing was weird.  First he showed up out of the blue in Ferrari’s pasture.  The same pasture that had seven-foot fencing supplemented with electric wire and was surrounded by private ground.  And somebody would have stopped him inside the stable.  

Second, there was the whole deal with his clothing.  It looked nothing like anything made today. That and he wore armor.  To be quite frank, it didn’t even look like it was from this world.

Third, he had never heard of the US before, and he was living in it.  

Or maybe I was turning into one of those off-the-grid hippies who believed in UFOs.  There had to be a logical explanation for all this.  It wasn’t like he actually had come from a different world.  That was preposterous.

He probably just hit his head or something when Ferrari was slinging him around.  I reasoned with myself.  He’s probably just a little confused right now.

Standing up, I motioned for the man to join me. “Follow me and I can get you a bandage for your shoulder…”  I paused, waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Thorin,” the man supplied with a nod of his head.  “At your service.”

“Estel, uh, at yours.”  I fumbled, hoping I hadn’t just entered into some deal with the man.  Turning around, I took one look at the stables and felt my heart stop beating in my chest.

Zach was standing at the gate of the paddock.

“Oh, no….”  I whispered, frozen in place.  I’d felt so sure that he’d had no idea that I worked here.  Beckett certainly didn’t advertise by using me.  “He followed me…”  

“Is something wrong?”  Thorin asked from behind me.  I looked back over my shoulder at him, taking in his broad frame. He had his clothes bundled up in his arms, hiding his torso from the world.  Dark brown hair sprawled across his shoulders, untamed by any sort of hair tie.

“Um,” I looked back over at Zach.  He was staring at Thorin; a small frown on his face as he took him in.  Automatically, I began formulating my “it’s not what you think” speech in my head.  I knew what it looked like.  A man and a woman out in a field, alone.

Except…That was exactly what would get him off my back. If I was a taken woman, he couldn’t come after me.  

“Thorin, I know this is asking a lot, given that we don’t know each other, but I really need you to pretend you’re my boyfriend. He,” I nodded over in Zach’s direction, “is my ex from a long time ago and he’s been stalking me, trying to get back together.  I just need you to pretend for like a day and then we can part ways.”  I pleaded, looking up into light blue eyes.  

Thorin stared back at me, then glanced up to look at Zach.  “You don’t want his attentions?”  He asked, and I nodded.

“Yeah, I just want him to leave me alone,” I sighed. The defeat I felt over my helplessness must have carried into my voice, because the iciness began to fade from his eyes.  

“You’ve told him this?”  His voice took on a gentler tone.

“I made it very clear, and he obviously didn’t listen.”

“Then I will pretend to be your…boyfriend.”  He agreed, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.  Instantly, his tough, rough-hewn aura faded to be replaced with a sense of security. “He will not lay a finger on you, Miss Estel.”

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#the wormhole #au #thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield #thorin #romance #slow burn #fluff #new york #estel #reverse girl falls into middle earth #the hobbit #modern au #fanfic #fanfiction #thorin fanfiction #thorin fanfic #modern thorin fanfiction #modern thorin fanfic

[every-kirishima-eijirou]

OBLIGATORY I’M STILL ALIVE POST

Ah shit, it happened again. So, uhhh...anyone still here? If you are, then hello! Kirishimod is still alive and well. I realize it’s been over a year of radio silence, but I’ve decided to stop using Twitter for the sake of my mental health and come back to Tumblr (but not immediately). Anyway, for those curious, here’s the abridged version of what’s been going on:

2021 was...pretty shit. In a “wow, 2020 wasn’t actually that bad” kinda way. Work put me through the wringer and was seriously affecting me mentally, and to top it off, I got COVID literally on Christmas Day, almost like 2021 giving me a final middle finger on its way out. But the good news is 2022 has been a pretty good year for me personally. I don’t wanna say it’s my best year per se, since sometimes my workload becomes too much to bear, but I’ve been seeing a lot of positive changes in my life. To sum up: I had my first vacation in 2 1/2 years, I finally found an apartment where I can afford to pay the rent by myself in full, and I’m finally in my last semester as an undergrad. All that while working full time and planning my stereotypical college grad globetrot (which I think will be relatively safe to do once 2023 rolls around). So, the question remains: what does that mean for this blog?

Basically, it means that any updates are gonna have to keep waiting. School is top priority right now, and my final isn’t until mid-December, so at the absolute earliest, you can expect updates by then. I just thought I’d let you guys know now since I just got back into Tumblr. I do have one last confession to make, however: I’m no longer invested in MHA as a series, and honestly, I haven’t been for a long time. Those of you reading the manga probably agree with me when I say this ongoing arc has been dragging on for too long now. This has also been a factor in the lack of regular updates. But, that being said, I do hope to get back to this project after more pressing matters have been dealt with. I hope you all are doing well, and as always, stay sturdy!

-Kirishimod 

#admin talks

[itsbrea]

this is my first short story , let me know what you think . Thumbs up or thumbs down

The best friend . 🩵

You know what they say about best friends , “they do everything together” , in this case that’s what these best friends do literally let’s see how it all folds out in the short story best friend .

*************

Me and my best friend have been best friends since 9th grade year , I’ve never really looked at him nothing more than a friend , or like a homeboy that’s it that’s all but every since we graduated high school and got into college we became even more closer , he has a girlfriend but he always makes time for me literally every time. I have been here way longer so I completely understand , her name is Monica she isn’t much of my friend but she cool ! I don’t have no beef , except this one time she accused me of sleeping with Justin and yeah it’s like she was delusional about the whole thing but anyway yeah to make a long story short she found out we didn’t do anything and she apologized , which I didn’t give a fuck about because I don’t accept apologies when I know I didn’t do anything wrong . Let’s get into the time me and my best friend did actually have sex , and made me cum more than anybody I’ve ever fucked with .

So it was finals week and it was crunch time I hadn’t had much time to do anything , not even give my dog any attention , she was fucking tired of me I laughed to myself , I rolled out of bed and got ready for my classes today , I only got two classes thank god ! I hoped out of the shower and threw on a white fitted tee with just a little of my belly showing , some grey Nike leggings , my Air Force ones , and a light Grey fitted jacket . I threw my hair up in a pony tail , put on my hair store lip gloss the one that complimented my brown skin , and we will talk about my hair another time because even though it hangs to the middle of my back and a good grade I still don’t wanna deal with it ! I was supposed to be meeting up with Justin but I told him I was to busy and he wasn’t having that , so he told me we was gone talk later ! I hated when he did that cause I was always anxious all day long .

Classes ended right at 2:00 pm which made it even better because now I had the freedom to do whatever , I wanted to catch up on some errands I needed done but that could wait I needed to head to Justin before he had a heart attack. It’s like my best friend is super protective over me and sometimes in the back of my mind I think he likes me , but that’s reaching I took out my phone to FaceTime him so I could see where he exactly was because I hate driving to him and it’s always so much going on .

**************

J: wassup mamas

S: where are you ? Wanna meet up?

J: yeah matter fact meet me at my parents house

S: I’m alllll the way on the other side of town Justinnnnnn I said through my whining lips

J: Skylar I’m not asking you , I’m telling you , stop playing with me

He knew that slightly turned me on when he did and said stuff like that , he clenched his jaws and licked his lips , it’s like I would never cross that line with him but he was so fine these days ! I had to get these thoughts out my head because we are best friends I can’t be thinking about him like that .

S: ugh fine okay I’ll see you in a minute big head !

J: bet , aye you want something from the store

S: skittles and some Funyuns

J: onion breath ass girl , aite bet * clicks off *

I threw my phone in the cup holder and pulled out the lot I’m not sure why it’s so much traffic out but that’s really about to annoy me , see Justin’s parents live like 25 minutes from me and maybe like 30 minutes on a bad day so I wanted to get there before traffic started but shit looks like it beat me , after sitting for about 20 minutes which felt like an hour I finally sped towards Justin’s hoping there wasn’t a cop around because the way I’m driving is illegal I laughed out loud and parked my car, I checked myself before going in my 5’4 frame went well with my slim thick body , my boobs set nice I wear a 44c , and my ass you could see from a mile away I was always blessed with a nice body thanks to my mom . I headed towards Justin’s apartment and knocked on the door , he came to the door and smiled he pulled me in by my arm and closed the door . Justin was 6’2 , dark skin , long pretty curly hair , grills complimented his dark soft skin , nice beard , hard body , and voice so deep and smooth he could get any girl he wanted . He also has good hair because his dad is full Indian , Cherokee to be exact , his mom on the other hand was Jamaican beautiful soul , I love his mom . He had on a white tshirt , grey Nike shorts , Nike socks , and some white forces I’m sure , they weren’t on his feet but I’m sure that’s what completed his fit . His hair hung loosely over his shoulders and out of his face , he just looked so fucking good today like he dressed up nice just for me , I’m reaching again let me relax I’m all over the place

“Come here”, Justin said as he grabbed me by my waist he always grabbed me like this so it wasn’t uncomfortable for me at all , I actually loved when he pulled me close he smelled so good , I put my arms around his neck and he caressed my ass , yes he love feeling on my fat ass and most of the time I would let him , today he was making me horny “Justinnnn, stop” I said as I bit my lip from moaning , he picked me up and put me on the counter he looked up at me and grabbed my waist I tilted my body back a little and showed off my figure even more , he licked his lips at me like he wanted to eat me off the bone

S: why you looking at me like that ? I said as I laughed

J: because I fucking can , nigga where tf you been? MIA and shit , been to busy and shit you better make time for me sky damn

S: okay I promise best friend , Ive just been busy asf with homework and classes we can go do lunch or something tomorrow .

J: that’s a bet he said as he massaged the side of my neck

S: justinnnn , ssss stop , fuck . my eyes almost went to the back of my head

Justin was really acting weird like he wanted to fuck or something and he knew that wasn’t happening I’m use to his flirty ways but he knows if he wants to do anything he has to be single period I know what y’all thinking but isn’t he your best friend , yes I know we just got that bond . I tilted my head looking at him and scrunched my nose up “get away from me crazy” I said laughing as i hopped off the counter onto the floor , I took off running towards his room and ran in the closet he always wanna play and shit .

J: *out of breath* sky why you always wanna play man , skkkkkyyyyy

I jumped out & scared the living shit out of him it was soooo funny ! He picked me up and threw me on the bed , which kinda hurt “stop fucking playing with me skylar before I fuck you up in here” he said as he went towards the bathroom , his house was like one of those mansions you seen on a movie , super sweet space , and his bedroom was just as big , I got up and went behind him , “what did you want to talk about so bad” I said as I hopped on the counter beside him as he threw his hair up in a man bun , he adjusted his stance and turned towards me , “remember when we were at the party couple nights ago, and you was all up on Jarell?” I looked confused because what did that have anything to do with it , I shook my head yeah

***********

S: yeah so? Why you mentioning that ?

J: because tf you doing all up on him for grinding your shit all up on him

S: J ITS NOT THAT SERIOUS

J: aight imma let it go

Justin never gets mad about little shit like that , he’s obviously jealous because it’s one of his friends I apologized and laid across his bed , Justin was walking across the room and locked the door I looked over because what is he doing , he came back towards me & told me to take my leggings and panties off I gasped because he ain’t never told me nothing like that before , I got up and looked at him half crazy

S: excuse me? Lol

J: you heard what the fuck I said sky , he said as he stood over me

S: bu..buuuut what about Monica ?

J: I’m not worried about her right now , take them panties off before I do it for you

I stood up and slid my leggings and thongs down exposing my waxed vagina to him , he licked his lips and grabbed me by my waist and pulled me on top of him we switched positions now he was on top of me taking off my shirt leaving me in just my bra , he kissed on my neck and massaged my clit while he did it , I was in heaven because I never thought we would be doing this , “fuck Justinnnn” I said as I moaned out and tried to move his hand , “move your fucking hand , stop playing with me” he continued to massage my clit till I came , he kissed down my stomach which made my body jump something serious because his tongue and lips felt so fucking good ! His warm tongue flicked and sucked on my clit as my body shivered from the orgasm I knew was about to come , “ omg justinnnn , fuck I’m about to cum please” I said as I slid my pussy across his lips . “Mmhm , nut all on daddy tongue” he said as he kept flicking his tongue fuck I was Cummin all over him. He came up and tongue kissed me while his hand was around my neck , “pussy taste so fucking good, got damn and it’s fat and wet sheesh” Justin said as he bent me over and rubbed oil all on my fat ass , he smacked my ass so hard I think he was tryna get back at me for being buddy buddy with his home boy . “Ouah, that hurt” I made a face at him, he told me to shut the fuck up and don’t worry about it, he laid up against the headboard and stroked his big long chocolate dick I drooled over it faithfully. I bent over and took him in my mouth sucking the tip first circling my tongue around his tip till he shoves it in my throat I opened my mouth a little wider sliding my tongue up and down on his dick as I sucked even harder my mouth was just getting more wet. “Mmm, ssss come here bend that ass over right here mhm just like that mama” I got in my best from the back position and he slide his 8in dick in me , I gasped because it felt so good going in he was fucking me so good I started crying

J: yeah next time you’ll keep your hands to yourself right? Right? Stop playing with me sky

S: *whimpers* I’m sorrrrrrrry daddy, fuck fuck I will keep my hands to myself ouahhhh

J:fuck your sorry , fuck that sorry he said as he pushed my head into the pillow , yeah I’ll tear this pussy up every time you disobey me you hear me mmm, shit

S : omgggggg fuck im about to cum daddy please I said as I closed my eyes

He turned me over into missionary and scooted me to the edge of the bed , he rubbed my clit as he fucked me so good , he finally nutted on my pussy and walked to the bathroom

I laid there just stuck because he turned me every way but loose that was the best time I’ve ever had .

J: that’s my pussy if I want it to be he said as he came back behind me

S : it can be , you fucked me so good Justin wtf

J : I’m that nigga stop playing with me , it’s mine I ain asking mo

S: boooooy , I said laughing out loud I only laughed cause he was serious

So from that point on me and my best friend were more than just that , & we continued to pursue whatever we wanted , talk about being best friends .

#sex stuff #story #fanfic #fantasy #short story

[juliesdiary]

06/02 T.W.

I’m overstimulated and overwhelmed. I need to release, but how am I going to do that in public? On top of that, I don’t even have the equipment to do it. What’s more, my mom’s calling me over to do her a favor. I honestly thought this part of my life was over a long time ago. After all, it's been over a year since I’ve had the urge to cut myself again. At this point, I don’t think my depression will ever go away. It’s always going to be there in some shape or form. I remember when my parents found out, they tried blaming it on the kind of music I listened to. Trust me, it wasn’t Asking Alexandria or Pierce the Veil that made me depressed. Then they tried to say that everything was just an elaborate act of jealousy towards my younger sibling, which had never crossed my mind. Nope, it wasn’t that either. I know it began in middle school in 6th grade, then it got better in 7th grade and then severely plummeted in 8th grade. Then it kinda disappeared in 10th grade but always lingered throughout high school. Then it came back in college, and it’s been on and off ever since. I’d like to say that we’ve learned to coexist, but when it hits, man, does it hit. I often think about what life would be like if I ever went through with it. When my dad passed away, I screamed at God that it should have been me. Had it been me instead, my family would still be okay. They wouldn’t suffer as much as they do now since my dad was the main breadwinner and head of the household. I mean c’mon, my sibling was only 15. That’s a critical age where a child needs their father. Had it been me, things would have been smooth sailing. I don’t contribute to anything. I just take up space. I just get everyone annoyed, upset, or pissed off. My dad took care of everyone. He made my mom feel safe. He gave advice. He taught us important life lessons. He had a reason to live for. He was loved. It’s been proven time after time that I’m forgetful and never anyone’s 1st, 2nd, or even 3rd option. Even my own ex-husband saw that I wasn’t worth anything and left me. So why couldn’t it have been me? I heard that some life insurance covers suicide, but you have to wait 2 years. If it were to happen within the first 2 years, then the policy becomes invalid, and your beneficiary gets nothing. I wish I could get a million dollar policy and put my family as beneficiaries so that I could finally be of some use. I’d be out of their way, and I’d be setting them for life. Everyone wins. Sometimes, I wonder if I don’t die from suicide if I’ll die of sadness. I can feel it weighing down my heart like as if someone was sitting on my chest. How ironic would it be if I ended up living to 100 y/o instead?

#juliesdiary #artists on tumblr #tw s3lf harm #relatable content #tw depressing stuff

[im-just-a-random-fandom-girl]

having a really hard time rn and just need to rant so i’m posting below the cut

having my worst couple weeks in a good 6 months or so. my anxiety is off the charts, and when my anxiety is bad, so is my depression. i’ve gotten into at least 1 argument per day with my mom, and a couple days ago got into 4. i feel like she’s suffocating me. i love her, but she’s always been overly protective and has strong opinions. college has given me the opportunity to dress how i want and do what’s best for me with my schedule without worrying that she’ll judge me or get angry with me for whatever reason. i’ve cried myself to sleep more nights than not. i’ve only been home a week and a half.

i also just feel very alone and not cared about right now. i’ve barely seen my sisters since getting home, and i was so excited to see them. they still have school, but i hardly spend time with them after they get home or on the weekends. with my youngest, it makes sense. she has final projects and tests right now, so she’s been busy with work. but any down time she has is spent with friends instead. like today, she obviously wasn’t going to do homework on a friday when she has a long weekend. but she invited her friend over to watch stranger things instead. i love stranger things and would have loved to watch it with her, but she chose her friend that she sees every day over me, her sister that she hasn’t seen in months. my middle sister still has to go to school, but she’s done with classes because she’s a senior. she has no homework, and still, i barely see her. she’s either in her room doing god knows what, or hanging out with people from school. mind you, this makes no goddamn sense because she hates her grade. she’s jumped around more friend groups than i can count, and can’t wait to go to college. it doesn’t make sense. i have friends from home, but not everyone is home this summer. everyone who is works, and the distance makes it even more difficult to see anyone. i went to a private school 30 mins away, so my friends live all over the place. i don’t know anyone from my home town really

basically, with my high anxiety and depression, i can’t function well enough to motivate myself to do anything that might help alleviate some stress, like drawing or reading or music. so i sit around, and try not to get into arguments with my mom, which just means doing a shit ton of work around the house. washing dishes, doing laundry, more dishes, walk the dog, make us all lunch, more dishes, talk to my grandma (who berates me about “not speaking spanish well” even though my spanish is very good, despite some mistakes, and claims that my youngest sister speaks better spanish than me even though her spanish is crap, AND says that my cousin can speak and understand spanish even though he doesn’t understand A SINGLE WORD i kid you not), go to the grocery store, pick up my sisters, help make dinner, walk the dog, do more dishes, and then spend the rest of the night alone.

to top it all off, i’m turning 20 on monday and i don’t think we are doing anything to celebrate. a lot of attention has been on my middle sister, and rightly so! she’s graduating high school on saturday, her prom is on thursday, she went to another prom yesterday, today she did the senior 6 flags trip, etc etc. but it also hurts. my senior year of high school was 2020. i didn’t get any of this stuff. i left from spring break and that was the last time i saw my grade. we had a graduation, but it was social distanced, and not everyone could be there. only my parents were allowed to come. i missed all of the senior year traditions that i was so so so looking forward to. i’m not jealous or angry, i just feel a little sad and some longing for what was lost. i’m just feeling very vulnerable and no one seems to notice or care. and the sting is worse because, like i said, it’s my birthday on monday and hardly anyone has given it a single thought.

idk. i feel stupid and lost and alone and i don’t know what to do.

#sara stupidity #long post #just ranting sorry

[pinkrubberducky]

Artist Interview: John Rutsky- Etched in Blue

(John is in the white all the way left)

John Rutsky, one of my first friends here at Rutgers is a talented guitarist for the band Etched in Blue. He is from New Jersey and is one of the kindest, most responsible guys I have ever met. That is why I thought doing an artist interview with him would be really cool; to see where he gets his roots and his current aspirations.  

How did you get into music? Is there a specific genre you really enjoy? 

“Hi, I’m John Rutsky from the band Etched in Blue currently attending Rutgers Business School. I grew up in a household where there was always music playing from classic rock to pop music. Due to this, I’ve always had a fondness for rock and especially the Beatles.”

How many years have you been playing? How did you find your band mates? How long have you been with this band? 

“Funnily enough, my love for singing started in church as a little kid which led me to joining choir in middle school. I kept up with it all through high school and am now a member of the Rutgers Glee Club. I’ve been playing guitar for almost 5 years and did jazz band in high school as well. I have known our drummer since elementary school as well as with our bassist. I met our lead singer through choir who asked me to be a part of the band when their guitarist went away for college. It’s coming up on 3 years I’ve been with the band and my favorite gig is still the first I had with them.”

What is your favorite song by your band? Favorite memory with them?  Favorite music memory in general? 

“My favorite song that we perform is our original “Hey Mister”.  My favorite memory with the band was when we were finally able to get War Pigs by Black Sabbath down so we knew it would be ready for the show. In general, my favorite musical moment was seeing Paul McCartney live.”

What are your goals for the band? 

“My goal with the band is firstly to have fun and create music that we enjoy. We want to reach as many people as possible which is why we have music on Spotify and take as many gig opportunities as possible. For instance, on November 18th, we’re playing at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park.”

How can I listen to Etched in Blue? 

“You can listen on Spotify! Right now our biggest song on Spotify is “Wrapped Around Your Finger” which is currently sitting at 1.3 million listens.”

I hoped you enjoyed reading this interview, I know I had a lot of fun learning about John. As you can see, he is a pretty successful guy, going to Rutgers, making music and having fun. I cannot wait to see what music he and his band have coming up! Maybe I’ll even go to the Stone Pony to see him, who knows! I hope to see you guys there too!

#etched in blue #stone pony #music #john #interview #crazy #spotify #1million #streams #Spotify

[thewriterabbit]

Oops...I Did It Again...

Oops, it’s July...

Is it really July?

Wow. Okay. Time really flew. I meant to come back and give an update after the last one I made in May…however, I never got around to doing it.

I apologize for the extended silence. It definitely wasn’t my intention when it came to launching this blog. I had a plan when it came to The Write Rabbit, and if I’m going to be completely honest with you all…I haven’t exactly been following it.

In today’s post, I’m sharing some life updates, writing updates, and…most importantly…an update regarding The Write Rabbit.

Life Update

Oh my God.

How life has changed since I made the decision to launch The Write Rabbit earlier this year. I mean, it wasn’t exactly unexpected but it was still quite overwhelming.

Everything with my day job has been, go-go-go! It’s been super busy, really hectic…and by the time I get home, I just want to lie down and not think or do anything. It’s been a miracle if I found enough energy to work on writing or even read a book!

Recently, I’ve been promoted and it’s been crazy adjusting to the new schedule and the work load. 

I’ve been overwhelmed lately, and everything that wasn’t pressing at the time was put on the back burner...and that, unfortunately, meant my writing and The Write Rabbit. 

If I’m going to be completely honest with you, I didn’t have the energy nor the proper motivation to go forward with it. If I was going to work on those projects, I wanted to put all of myself...all of my energy into them. I wanted to put my best foot forward with these projects. I wanted to put my all into them and I didn’t want to put too much stress on myself when I have to focus on other things. 

But that being said...

A lot has changed on the writing front, too. 

Writing Update 

I’ve been writing since...middle school...oh, god. How long ago was that? 2008/2009. Wow. Gosh, that was 14 or 15 years ago. Up until now, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I was throwing everything and anything up against the wall and waited to see if something (anything) stuck. 

To be honest, nothing really did. 

I wrote a lot of fan fiction. Like...a lot. Like an unhealthy amount. I started a lot of fan fiction while I had a mountain load of other fanfiction I was still working on. I worked on a lot of fiction and posted some of it online. But the main project I worked on was a supernatural-fantasy that I planned on being a series. At least a five book series. In high school, I was so obsessed with the idea.

It consumed nearly everything that I did.

It practically clouded my judgment when it came to writing. I absorbed any and all writing advice I could find, mostly on YouTube. However, no matter what I did...I could never break whatever hold the first draft of the first book.

I think...I think I burned myself out.

I think I pushed myself too much, too hard, and I practically ruined the series for me. The series is temporarily shelved.

Around the same time, I was in a massive writing and reading slump. All throughout my college career, I tried really hard to break through it. I tried to read more...I tried to write more. But, for some reason, something just didn't click.

When I first began my blogging journey, I thought that would somehow kickstart my desire to begin my writing journey once again. I thought that it would inspire me to get out of my writing slump...to get out of my reading slump.

But it didn't.

Time passed. Time mostly spent in limbo. In that time, I did write...some. I did read...some. But it wasn't as much as I liked. At the same time, I felt as though I burned myself out with blogging as well. Mostly because I didn't really have anything to say.

I had nothing.

So...what was the point?

My blog...inadvertently...went on a hiatus. A mostly unannounced hiatus. I took a break so that I could focus on other things...mostly writing.

However, this year I wanted to change. I needed a change. After some thought, and some long inner debate, I've finally decided to start taking writing seriously. Treating writing like a job.

There was a road block, in my mind, that prevented me from writing. I didn't know what it was. Until much recently, and I wished I had the knowledge to recognize it. Not just that...I wished I had the confidence and courage to call it as I saw it.

The mindset of viewing writing as merely a hobby just because it isn't making any kind of revenue at the moment was incredibly detrimental. I didn't want writing to be a hobby.

I had to step back and figure out what I wanted. What I wanted to do with writing. If I wanted to do it just for fun, just as a hobby. OR if I wanted to make a career out of it.

And I wanted to make a career out of it.

And so....my approach with writing had to change. And that was the key that I needed to allow me the ability to finally let go. It gave me the freedom to go at a pace that was much more feasible for me. I don't know if I'm explaining it right. I'm probably not.

But I'm starting to think I'm the kind of person that likes to plan and process what I'm doing and how I'm doing. It's weird.

Currently, I'm in pre-production (the planning stage) of a project that I've been working on and off since 2020. With this new mindset, I'm trying to approach my writing very differently. I'm trying to take my time and find a process that works for me. Originally, I had planned on beginning the drafting phase later this year and actually finishing it by the end of November...but I don't think that's an ideal plan. I'm taking the rest of the year to plan and figure out the story and hopefully, fingers crossed, I'll be able to begin drafting this project next year.

Blog Update

Late last year I wanted to get back into blogging. I just didn't know how. I just knew that it couldn't be a similar iteration of blogs I've done in the past. It was because of this idea that The Bluebird was formed.

It was my fresh start.

My approach was different....and the same. The difference was...I wasn't going to rush into blogging content before I felt I was ready. I wasn't going to launch a new blog before I had enough content to back it up. The idea was that I would launch the social media accounts before the blog, buying me enough time to figure out the kind of content I wanted to discuss. Buying me enough time to work on blog content.

However, The Bluebird never felt right when thinking about my blog.

I don't know how to explain it. But when I first picked the name, somewhere deep inside...I knew that the name would be temporary. That somewhere, down the line I would make a name change.

I didn't think it would be within a few months.

I had an idea one day while on break at work. Randomly, the idea of Alice in Wonderland popped in my head. The 137 year old children's classic is one of my favorite books. I read it in middle school and it has stuck with me ever since. I started thinking about the white rabbit and then the 'white' turned into 'write'....and I fell in love.

The Write Rabbit is a perfect connection to literature. It perfectly described the kind of blog that I wanted to make. I want this blog to be about stories and storytelling. I want to highlight stories in all of its forms: literature, film, television, music, and art. I also want to share my writing journey and share the behind the scenes of writing.

Currently, for the summer of 2022, I am going to remain on hiatus while I continue building content for the social media account and building a blog that I am proud of. Also, it gives me the time to really focus on my writing and honing my craft.

I appreciate your understanding and your patience. I’m hoping to come back (full swing) sometime in the fall. By then, I’m hopefully more comfortable with my new position and have gotten myself into a routine when it comes to writing and blogging.

Until then, I hope you follow The Write Rabbit’s social media accounts to stay up to date when I officially come back. I hope you all have a fantastic day and a great summer and I will see you in (roughly) three months!

#thewriterabbit #blogger #update #blogupdate #longpost #extended #what’s going on #writing #bunny

[jaeyunsz]

and we’re live! pt. 2 (l.heeseung - preview)

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

camboy!au, college!au, fwb!au

genre: smut, angst, fluff?

warnings: smut, more warnings will be added when its finalized 

word count: 5k (estimated)

summary: when heeseung asked you to join one of his live streams, you didn’t have any expectations, sex was casual between you two, oh and one more thing, it was supposed to be just sex but why was heeseung starting to feel butterflies in his stomach whenever he looked at you?

release date: hopefully some time next week

a/n: if you want to be on the tag list send me an ask!

read part one here!

READ PART 2 HERE

It had been two weeks. Two whole weeks without you. You didn’t call him nor texted him. Heeseung was so close to going crazy not doing what you’d been up to. He saw you in the campus a few times but whenever you saw him, you turned and walked the other way. He didn’t waste his energy to follow you, knowing that you’d whoosh him away anyways. After a while, he was the one running away from you, praying that you two wouldn’t bump into each other.

He hadn’t gone live since that day. Whenever he tried to touch himself, you popped up in his mind. In the end he just let it go and crawled under the heavy blankets, closing his eyes. He just wasn’t feeling it. Heeseung had been moody too. It was obvious, he wasn’t his bubbly self. He used to be all smiles and rainbows but now, he couldn’t function properly without at least three cups of coffee a day. He wasn’t cracking stupid jokes here and there, not a single word came out from his mouth. Even if Heeseung didn’t realize it himself, he was being obvious. It didn’t take long for his close friend Jay to realize that something was up with the older boy.

‘’Okay, what the fuck is up with you?’’ Jay asked one day while the two of them were eating lunch during their free period. Heeseung kept playing with his ramen and not eating which was pretty unusual for a person like Heeseung since he worshipped the particular food.

‘’What do you mean? I’m fine.’’ He shook his head, acting like everything was going alright. Jay knew better though, being Heeseung’s friend since middle school had it perks. He knew the guy like the back of his hand.

‘’Don’t give me that shit. You haven’t even touched your food and that is a whole red flag if you’re asking me.’’ Jay commented, staring at his best friend who was looking down at his food, a visible pout on his face. ‘’Something has been bothering you for a while now and you might think that nobody is noticing but you’re being too obvious. Look if you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll give you space but-‘’

‘’I’ve been sleeping with Y/N.’’ Heeseung confessed, making the boy in front of you choke on his food.

‘’Wait- What? Y/N? Y/N as in-‘’

‘’Yes, that Y/N, the Y/N I fucked at that frat party months ago-‘’

‘’So since then-‘’

‘’Jay, I love you, you’re my best friend but you ask too many questions, let me explain. Yes, we’ve been having sex. Since we started it, I haven’t slept with any other people. I did my streams like usually. I even asked her-‘’

‘’Oooh, that girl who sucked-‘’

‘’Oh shut up, yes that was her too. Everything went downhill after that night. I caught feelings  and when I told her that she got angry and told me that she didn’t know what her feelings were and asked me to give her some time. It’s been two weeks but she still keeps running away from me. Jay, I want her so bad but I can’t do anything about it unless she wants me too. Do you know how painful that is?’’ Heeseung cried, letting it all out. He pushed his ramen aside and put his head on the table, his fist hitting the table. He looked like a small kid who was throwing a tantrum because his mom didn’t get the candy he liked.

Jay just stared at his friend without saying anything, a single french fry in his hand. He had never seen Heeseung so desperate for someone, his eyes were literally sparkling when he was talking about you but also he was devastated, his voice gave everything out.

‘’Are you… perhaps… in love with her?’’ Jay whispered, not sure how his friend would react since love was such a big word for him.

‘’Will I sound crazy if I say yes?’’

‘’A bit…’’

‘’I’m a crazy man then.’’

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