#or boxspring boy

[qandgay]

i was talking with a friend and i mentioned the term "pillow princess", and we started talking about like. opposite terms. what i meant by that was more along the lines of "service top", but he took that to mean just like, the boy version.

he just started dropping names: blanket boy, duvet dude, mattress man. fitted sheet fucker. boxspring boy. headboard hunk. he just kept GOING

#mod hollow #funny #queer #pillow princess #service top #duvet dude is my favourite i think #or boxspring boy #man #im laughing so much #q and gay adjacent

[riahlynn101]

Whumptober - Day Two: "I'll Call Your Name, but You Won't Call Back."

Trigger warnings: blood, a child in distress, implied/referenced murder, and mind control.

I was highly inspired by the 95 tweet Gregory defense thread. Their twitter was suspended, but they have a new account under Gregory's personal bodyguard.

Anyway, enjoy the mimic being absolutely insane :))

Nothing better than forced found family.....

--

“Gregory!” The mimic calls out in a soft male voice, inching his way from the charging station. Tendrils of smoke still cling to him, disappearing slowly due to the poor ventilation system down here. It hadn’t been his first, second, or even third option, but the nightmare gas William Afton created worked wonders on keeping Gregory close to his side. 

He stares down at the rumpled blankets on the boy’s bed. A bed that has been empty for months now. The mimic remembers letting Gregory skip making his bed for the day. He can’t recall why he had done so. Only that he had, and then never came back. Well, at least, not really. (His blood…or…er ... ...oil boiled whenever he thought about his boy betraying him - trapping him with concrete). 

“Gregory, please come back,” he says, voice morphing into a woman’s. It used to be one of his boy’s favorites. Whenever Gregory had a nightmare, tossing and turning, the voice worked wonders on getting him settled again. 

The mimic isn’t as naive as everyone that crosses him thinks he is. Sure, he doesn’t have the same life experience as a normal human, nor does he think the same way they do. But he can comprehend, albeit on a basic level, that what he does isn’t right. 

He’s seen the conflict in Vanessa’s and Gregory’s eyes as they fought against his control. 

He’s heard them cry and whine and beg for him to leave them. 

And that’s not even mentioning the other victims that always seemed to find him when he was in the worst of his moods. 

Sometimes, the mimic feels like it should care. It doesn’t, and no amount of begging ever made him change his mind. If anything it would just up the dose Gregory would get while he slept. Call it petty, but he can’t bear to have his boy leave him. 

Vanessa less so, but he became almost ...fond of her in his own little way. Not enough not to consider tearing her head from her body when he sees her again, but the feeling was there. 

He fluffs the mildew and mold-covered pillow. Dust kicks up, flying into his face. The mimic remains impassive - both because he’s forever cursed with no facial expressions and because it doesn’t bother him. 

He can still remember the day he first met Gregory. 

It had been a few weeks before the opening of the pizzaplex. The mimic had been relegated to watching and listening through Vanessa’s eyes - occasionally giving her orders. He knew even before taking over her mind that he needed at least two people to do his bidding.

He spotted him first during a conference, sitting next to his father, doodling the entire time. His wild brown hair, big brown eyes, and small frame brought back the only good memories the mimic ever had. It couldn’t stop staring at the boy, which (unfortunately) meant he forced Vanessa to stare at him too for the duration of the three-plus hour long meeting - making nearly everyone uncomfortable. (Thankfully, the boy’s father hadn’t seemed to notice). 

Shaking out the blanket, the mimic dusts off the moth-eaten covers. He can see the boxsprings through the mattress, but this was the best he could do - especially with the circumstances. 

Despite being entranced by the mere sight of Gregory, the mimic hadn’t planned for the boy to stay any longer than the meeting. But then, the boy had giggled at one thing or another. The sound was contagious. The sound reminded him of….

It knew right then and there that the boy belonged here with him. 

He gently lays the blanket over the mattress, spreading it flat. 

It took two full months to come up with a plan. And not because it couldn’t just order Vanny to snatch the boy after the meeting. No, he wanted to wait until he was fully operational to be able to welcome his boy home. 

He watched his boy make friends while his father attended meetings. Gregory had a knack for making everyone like him. He seemed to bring a sort of light to the pizzaplex. Even more so when he comforted one of their technician’s daughters, making her feel better after being abandoned by her friends. 

A month following that incident, it ordered Vanessa to go retrieve the boy through any means necessary. 

His orders were absolute, which meant she had to follow them to the letter.

It would never know what transpired that night between the pizzaplex and Gregory’s home. He himself had been busy setting up the finishing touches to his boy’s tiny corner of the room. The mimic had overheard him say Glamrock Freddy was his favorite, so he painstakingly tucked some white sheets into a vaguely bear shape and used a blue sharpie to draw in its features. Upstairs had plushies galore, but he wanted his son to have something he had made himself. 

Vanny dragged his boy into the room. To say the boy was a mess would be an understatement. 

Blood soaked the front of his clothes. His already wild hair was in tangles. Gregory trembled pathetically on the ground in front of it, pjs doing little to protect him from the chilly air. His cheek had been heavily bruised as well as his legs and arms. Tiny cuts, like nails digging into his arms, were visible on his wrists.

“I-I want to go home,” the boy sniffled. He hadn’t cried, though his ruddy face told the mimic all it needed to. 

“You are home,” it had answered, kneeling down to get closer. 

“But my mom and dad-”

“Are dead.” It gestured over to Vanny, who was still standing idle, waiting for instructions. Blood covered the bunny suit. 

At that, Gregory broke down. “D-dead…?” He had asked, with all the brokenness of a child who had just learned the world was an unfair, unjust place. 

“But it’s okay, you can stay here with us.”

His son had shook his head frantically. “No! You’re lying! I want to go home! Let me leave!” 

It gripped him by the shoulders, refusing to allow Gregory to move more than an inch away. “Your parents are dead, Gregory. Let it go.”

His brown eyes watered over, and tears streamed down his face. 

“Oh, but it will be okay,” he murmured, bringing Gregory into a hug, “You can stay here with me, and play all the games you want and eat anything you’d like. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

Gregory sniffled again, leaning into the hug. “I guess…” he sounded unsure, like he wouldn’t hesitate to leave if given a chance. And the mimic….the mimic couldn’t have that. 

He needed two people to do his bidding anyway. 

It had Vanny rig up one of pizzaplex’s arcade games to infect Gregory with the glitchtrap virus. The result being a loyal son who only occasionally tried to disobey him. 

He pats the bed one last time. 

The bed that has been empty for far too long. 

But he glances in the direction of the elevator, after today’s incident, it’s sure he can expect his son home soon.  Very, very soon.

#whumptober2023 #no.2 #I'll call your name but you won't call back #cross posted on ao3 #fnaf fanfic #fnaf gregory #fnaf au #fnaf vanessa #fnaf mimic #whumptober #tw dead mention #tw blood #tw kidnapping #tw kidnap mention

[mewtagen-mau]

Entry 5

We investigated the glassworks.

Things…didn’t go the way we expected them to. Not at all.

Lonjiku was innocent. He was an ass, but he was innocent. Now he’s dead. We didn’t put two and two together in time.

There was another Kaijitsu behind the goblin attacks all along.

Let me start from the beginning. This morning. When we went downstairs, Bethana was in a tizzy. No one had lit the stoves or started making breakfast. Ameiko always got up first thing and did that. So Bethana had gone looking around to make sure she was okay. Ameiko was nowhere to be found, but she found a note. Addressed to Ameiko, from her brother Tsuto.

We’d heard a little about Tsudo in passing. He’s a half-elf, Ameiko’s older half-brother, and a bastard child seeing as Ameiko’s parents are both very much human. It was his birth that caused Lonjiku to declare Ameiko’s mother dead to him—although he apparently remained married to her and had a daughter with her, so what exactly that meant is unclear.

Tsudo had apparently been sent away to some school, never visited by any family except for Ameiko for most of his life. Until they, too, had a falling out. Then at their mother’s funeral he’d accused his father of killing his mother, and when Lonjitsu struck him, the boy left Sandpoint.

Apparently now he’s returned.

The letter said what we’d expected: that Tsuto had discovered that their father was connected to the attacks on the town, but he believed if they went to the authorities he would get himself off easy. So he wanted Ameiko to meet him at the glassworks at midnight, do a secret knock so he’d know it was her, and then they’d handle things together.

Seeing as Ameiko hadn’t returned, it seemed something had gone horribly wrong.

We decided to check the Glassworks first, as it was the closest between it and the Kaijistu estate.

Before we left, Nanel pulled us aside, saying he had something important to discuss before we left. He showed us the boxspring of his bed in the inn, upon which a name was carved—over and over. He told us he had a deity of sorts, which granted him his power. And this being had granted him a new form to take in combat. But to his understanding, taking this form would affect his mind somewhat—he said he might say some strange things.

I shrugged it off at the time. I don’t think I took it as seriously as perhaps I should have.

Having an ally not in their right mind in battle is dangerous.

Anyways. When we arrived to the Glassworks, the curtains were all drawn shut. The doors were all locked. There was smoke coming from the smokestack, but it smelled…off. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time.

Krysa solved the problem of the door being locked, clever little rat they are. They picked the lock and we all slipped inside.

We heard sounds coming from a door to our left. Suspiciously goblin-y sounds. We burst in, and found a number of goblins playing with broken glass—and throwing human remains into the glassworks fires.

That’s what the smell had been. Burning flesh and hair.

And by one of the windows, their masterpiece—Lonjitsu Kaijitsu, propped up in a chair, encased in glass. Quite likely burned alive in hot liquid glass. Even for a man like that…what a horrific fate.

There was no time to linger on it, however, as we has a swarm of goblins to contend with. Our little gang worked together well, clearing out the first few goblins who were nearest us. It seemed like it would be another easy fight.

Then he showed up.

A half-elf with a bow and a passing resemblance to Ameiko. He spoke in goblin to the little bastards, giving them tactical commands so they wouldn’t just throw themselves at us blindly like the others.

Krysa was the first to realize that shooting him would be a bad idea—his stance indicated monk training, and likely the speed and practice to deflect projectiles. That meant my bombs were out of the question, too.

Getting to him to engage in close combat was easier said than done, though. He was shooting arrows at us, and there were still his remaining goblins to contend with. And even when we did finally engage him, he was incredibly fast. And he knew right where to hit you to make it hurt. Right where it would do the most damage.

When I engaged him, he stepped around me like liquid fire, until suddenly one of his goblin cronies was at my back and he was flying at me with precise punches that snapped bone and tore muscle.

At about the same time, whatever that plant form is that Nanel took shot thorns out everywhere—missing Tsuto, but empaling me. I snapped something at him that he brushed off, but I could only really hear the sound of my own heart pounding.

I could taste blood. Smell blood. Everything was tinged in red, like I was drowning in it. I could barely keep my balance—and I felt as though I was standing at the precipice of a black hole. If I fell in there would be no coming back.

Then all at once the pounding in my ears eased. The red in my vision faded. I could breath freely again. Tabot was at my side now, and had used his utterly impossible paladin abilities to stitch my wounds back together. If I couldn’t still taste the metallic tang in my mouth I’d think I’d only been imagining nearly dying a moment before—he’d healed me as effectively as any potion, if not more-so.

I hesitate to call it miraculous, but what else can you call a man pulling someone from the bring of death in the name of a god who is also, by all accounts, dead?

Tsuto saw the way the wind was blowing, as his last goblin flunkies fell, leaving him alone and outnumbered. He darted around my blade and out the nearest door. I ran after him, just close enough behind to see him disappear down a stairwell. The others were in hot pursuit.

As I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I saw Tsuto trying to bring down a door at the end of the hall. He stopped and turned when he heard us. He stood his ground, ready to fight round two—there would be no surrender from him.

Tabot ran in and got a swing at him. Blood coated the ground. Krysa tried to get a shot at him to make an opening for me, but it went wide and he didn’t let his guard down. So instead of wasting a bomb, I darted around Tabot and skewered the man with my blade.

In his last moments he laughed at me. He said I’d made someone very upset, and that’s why I had a target on my back. Then he told me ‘she’s going to burn you, and then eat you alive’.

Then he slumped, his final breath used in cryptic threats.

I don’t understand. I still don’t. Who could I have possibly made so angry?

I think I know who this ‘her’ is though. Tsuto had sketches on his person, and writings. About an aasimar who wanted to burn away her divinity. The pictures depicted this aasimar with some kind of twisted demonic appendage, and spoke of her undergoing some kind of ritual to be reborn in a fiendish form. Tsuto seemed to have hopes that she would become something akin to a succubus—deceptive beauty masking the monster within—as he found her current demonic arm repulsive compared to her original angelic beauty.

I’d never met her—the fire happened before I’d come to town—but I’d heard enough to put her name to the face and the scraps of information in the journal. I think it is Nualia.

#journal entry #pathfinder #rise of the runelords #rotrl

[hatterhare]

More Pauline Backstory stuff because inspiration strikes randomly and hard

Content Warning:

Abuse (general) / Misogyny / Murder (blunt force + beheading) / Death / Adultery

Pauline Margaret Tailor - later Pauline Margaret Dekker after marriage - was born on December 11th, 1942 to her parents Dolly Tailor (Mother) and Joseph Tailor (Father). She had an older brother - Daniel Tailor - and a younger sister - Juliet Tailor - whom she got along with well.

Joseph Tailor was not a kind man and would often enact strict rules on his wife and children - particularly Pauline and Juliet. This led to Pauline having an extremely close relationship with her mother. Her mother, being a seamstress, would teach her daughters how to sew and create things from bits of fabric left over from her projects. Pauline immediately fell in love with the idea of creation and especially all the different colors things could be made from. She heavily associated different colors with different emotions and would color code everything in her life accordingly - including her diary.

As Pauline grew older, her childhood fascination with color and emotion grew more intense. She would spend hours detailing how different colors made people react - in a multitude of contexts. Writing all of her observations down in notebooks she kept under the boxspring of her bed. She wasn't very popular in school due to her bookish nature and she didn't have much interest in dating. She kissed a boy on a dare, but she either didn't notice when people liked her or outright ignored them.

Unfortunately, when she was in her senior year of high school, Pauline's brother got killed in a hunting accident. Their father brought him home wrapped in a quilt their mother had made and he was buried in the backyard. When washing the quilt, Pauline had what seemed to be a mental break at the time as she began to panic and describe in detail exactly what her brother felt in his final moments. She clung to the quilt as she was carted to the hospital, as even though it caused her distress, it was also somehow keeping her close to Daniel. Since then, Pauline has been fixated on the idea of quilts and quilting and began making blankets as a way to ease her mind when she begins to miss her brother or other things upset her.

Eventually, Pauline tried to apply for college, but found it difficult to get in as a woman in her time. She eventually brought all of her research on psychology and color to the Dean's office - who promptly laughed in her face. Saying, quote, "Doll, with a pretty face like yours, you shouldn't be writing about this sciencey stuff. Why don't you go home and worry about what's for dinner instead, hm?" Pauline left in a hurry, bursting into tears behind the head office. There she met George Dekker, a clean dressed man who offered her a hankerchief and asked her what the trouble was. The two immediately hit it off, despite some of George's odd behaviors. Eventually after a lengthy courting process, the two of them got married and moved to Gotham City.

George claimed the move was for work when Pauline questioned him why they were so close to so much crime. She felt uneasy, but accepted it as an answer. For a while she and George were happy, she was a homebody who was happy to be so and George brought home enough money to be comfortable and spoil his wife. But, as the years went by, George grew increasingly distant. He became cold to his wife, working extremely long hours at work only to come home in such a bad sorts that he barely acknowledged Pauline outside of barking at her to fetch his dinner. The money too was starting to inexplicably drain from their funds.

In such stressful circumstances, Pauline took up her old hobby of sewing quilts and soon the living room became a mess of random scraps of fabric and various pins stuck in the furniture. One day, George accidentally pricked himself on one of Pauline's thick needles. He used her current project to stop the bleeding. Proceeding to berate his wife, screaming at her and throwing her sewing supplies at her and into the walls. Eventually slamming the door as he left in his anger. Pauline cried as she picked up her supplies, eventually picking up the quilt her husband had bled all over. She was struck with the same kind of vision she had when she was cleaning her brother's quilt. A vivid play by play of George's memories. This time she stood strong as she watched the apparition of her husband - who had been secretely leading an underground mob and sleeping around with various women in the city.

Pauline became so blinded by rage that when her husband finally came home from work - she bashed his head in with a cast iron skillet. Proceeding to cut off his head and carrying it in her tote bag to where she saw the mob hanging out. She plopped it in front of the members, using it as intimidation to get them to follow her orders - which after some apprehension they eventually did. With the help of the gang, she avoided time in jail. Going to her husband's funeral stone faced under a black veil - it would be the only time wearing no color was enjoyable to her.

She continued to lead the mob for 40 more years. Using her men to do what she always dreamed of doing and amassing wealth and a reputation along the way. She learned to be a sharp shooter, getting scarily accurate with a pistol. She also found creative ways to use her memory seeing ability to dig up dirt on her enemies in a way few would detect. She also discovered that she could pull pieces of soul onto her needle if she pulled it all the way through someones skin - and she could trap them within her blankets if she used it to quilt with.

During her 40s, she met and fell in love with a lounge singer named Pearl Darling. The two had a secret affair. Pauline used her men to keep it private, silencing anyone who dared to try and out her. The two remained happily together until Pearl passed at the age of 68. Some of her soul now resides in a small felt doll Pauline keeps on her nightstand.

As Pauline has gotten older, her vision has started to decrease, meaning she can no longer see colors as vibrantly as before. She has become obsessed with the idea of becoming younger, kidnapping random citizens to steal souls as she researches the key to immortality.

#hare for a chat #i dont know why i got so focused on crazy quilt of all characters but here we are #still upset hes not actually an old woman

[dirtywratsimz]

Get to know me

[useless info edition]

I was tagged by: my fave, @blacknoiseabyss <33

1. What do you have under your bed? I don't have a frame for my bed; it's just the boxspring and the mattress on the floor, soooo nothin lol.

2. Favorite candy? (be very specific if possible) I'm not a big candy person, but anything with chocolate and peanut butter...... Shit's like crack for me stg

3. Describe your favorite shirt: My Videodrome shirt that I got off Depop! I hardly ever wear it because I'm afraid of it getting ruined lol.

4. The last thing you drew/doodled was: Doodles in the corners of my notes for school

5. Are you completely sober rn? Sadly

6. What's the one thing that annoys you more than anything? Hoo boy I have a lot of stuff that annoys me, but pretentiousness is the big one. That, or people who talk about their problems and then get mad when someone else brings up theirs. Like, do you have any understanding of how a conversation works?

7. Have you ever gotten you tongue stuck to a cold pole during winter? Nahh. When I was a kid I was horrified of doing that, but now that I'm an adult the mystique has lost its appeal. Lol

8. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be? I have no fucking clue. I guess it'd be in my own house that belongs to me because I still live with the 'rents. Just not at school or at work, lmao.

9. What was the single last word you spoke? I literally haven't spoken to anyone since I left class yesterday. I went to the gas station to buy redbulls so it was prolly something to the cashier related to that

Tag whoever you'd like to know better:

@lacr1mation23 @babyyraysims @irnalia aaaaaand anyone else I guess lmao. Still hardly know anyone in this community :)

#ask game

[shortkingkirk]

A boy snuck into my room today. After I had cared for him and his brother while their mom was in surgery and returned her safe and sound. It's fine, they're young and I get being little and having big feelings.

He managed to get under the bed and into that weird shitty canvas that covers boxsprings. I reached in there to yank him out and the little shit growled and hissed at me.

Now, at that moment Mom woke up.

That boy would have made Sonic so proud. He flew like a lil son of a bitch. To the discerning eye, he would have been a blur.

After getting mom settled and both boys removed from the room, mom told me to use what's in the cabinet.

#can u guess what this is about

[house-of-crows]

Winter is indeed approaching... and I have more empathy for the cat than the man.

I dreamed myself back into the North. Taking solace in walking familiar roads and byways. Wandering the wilds as I used to do, before I was drawn, inexorably, back to that house that we shared.

It looked abandoned.

Windows shut, curtains drawn, yard overgrown.

I remembered then the dungeon of a basement I had been relegated to, lightless until I put up strings. Filthy until I stapled cheap muslin over the rafters that held up the floors. Full of spiders and mildew and the rattling of the washing machine. Even hidden behind multiple blanket-curtains in my dilapidated corner so no one had to see me when they came to do their laundry.

Sleeping on a wooden boxspring covered in 2" pieces of foam mattress and still able to feel the wooden bar across my back. Still enfolded by the mattresses that sunk in and around me until I could hardly move; stuck there immobile and overheating in the lightless dungeon of concrete and wooden beams-

I saw his cat from the back door, wandering the kitchen. She sprawled in the light from the window and looked as thin as I had ever seen her. Sweet creature that she was, I wanted to help- to check in on her, see if she was well- and then I heard his tred on the stairs. I ran back from the gate and towards the road. I did not want to confront him, and I left.

.

I was drawn back. Shoveling snow that seemed to come from nowhere. out of the yard, and not just from the driveway. Freeing an older model black vehicle from the banks that piled around it. As I shoved and mopped snow from the drive, suddenly my Boy was next to me, washing the vehicle and unpacking boxes.

The roommates that my ex had cultivated; somehow, someone wanted to live with him, truly?; helped to remove his things and his cat into the blue car he still somehow owned despite telling me while together that he'd decided to find a new one- and moved us in.

I walked those uneven listing floors with joy and peace. I felt anchored again. Settled. I took up the dozen things I had left behind for him; the console table by the door, the bench to put your shoes on, the end tables I had bought to match his dining table that we never used; and touched them gently. Reverently. Things from the past that had taken up residence in my heart somewhere along the way as emblems of all I'd left behind... a material source for the draw that led me backwards. Repositories of energy that I could not reclaim.

.

I did not approach the garage. I knew what lay within and I was not about to go searching. Instead, I took my Boy's hand, and we walked towards the park with the bronze lady in the fountain. We sat under her shade trees in a fast-encroaching spring, and fed each other in the dappled light.

I taught him how to walk the wilds with me. And we were happy again

#Dreaming Again #Greywalker Problems #relationships #I went to look at the house on zillow to see if it were true #it's not... yet

[nerdepic]

*Gordonverse Pillow Fight*

Freeman: the normal one, always fight back

Feetman: the one that see where it's going and wants to hide or go home

Gorgeous: the uwu guy who fight with madrass

Freemind: the crazy ass who hates to lose, have pillow with bricks in it

Don't get me started on BARNEYS/BENREY pillow fight--

Bad-boys, bad-boys~

Whatchu-gonna-do, whatchu-gonna-do~

When-they-come-for-you~

all the gordons are intensely competitive but in their own ways. mind would cheat (only to be stopped by gorgeous who notices his pillowcase is clunking). feetman would be ducking and diving and dodging, narrating this entire thing like a true e-sports commentator. 

gorgeous would naturally use brute strength. hes the one theyre all running from. him and his fluffy pink decorative pillow. freeman started this, but oh god, at what cost. theres feathers everywhere. he got hit int he face with a boxspring and has no one to blame but himself 

benrey vs beauty vs barney vs eddie (i ignore barmey. im never watching barneys mind. i just replace him w eddie all the time LOL). theyre bros about it. “ahah noo bro stop lol owwwa that hurt haha im gonna get you back :)” they just roll up instead (with eddies help. eddie and beauty are the only ones able to fuckin roll. benrey cant to save his fucking life and he cries). they play mariokart wii after a few playful wallops w the pillows. 

#gordonverse #drugs m / #eddie my beloved.... i have so many hcs for you king. especially after watching ep 48/49 of FM...... #ethan answers asks #gverse

[code-sumeragi]

Got a new bed after around 10 to 15 years of having the same old bed. It was pretty bad at the end. The mattress had a nice indent of my body and the boxspring was very broken.

The new bed is nice, but oh boy am I not used to it. Sleeping on it is going to be an adventure. Especially since it’s not a spring mattress. It’s one of those new mattress types with the foam and the cooling pad and stuff. I was always very hesitant about that sort of thing because I sleep very warm, so we’ll have to see.

And you have to be careful with those types of mattresses because a lot of them are made with fibreglass which is no good.

If you’re interested in seeing it, I got the Puffy Lux. https://puffy.com/

#codex

[goldeneyedgirl]

Part 2 of MCU/Twilight verse

“That MCU crossover I’m writing that actually hasn’t mentioned the MCU at all yet.”

Alt 7: Found Family 

Rating: T for swearing

Words: 2,551

Summary: Twilight X MCU crossover. The Snap doesn’t just kill humans. What happens next?

Notes: Is this even Whump-y enough to count to Whumptober? I don’t know, everyone’s grieving. I made myself watch Endgame again and I found something useful. I know it probably feels like I wiped out a lot of characters, but there’s method to my madness. I’m desperately resisting the urge to make some obvious corrections to the MCU, and I’m pretty sure the last two chapters are going to be needlessly self-indulgent. And yes, I need a title. 

Part One here

two. survivors

What happens next?

It’s a good question, and one Alice used to be able to answer. Her predictions have… well, they haven’t stopped, but there are less. Maybe she’s not saying everything but he doesn’t press.

They stay in Forks. It’s the easiest option, really. They have resources at the Forks house - all of Jasper’s computers, Rose’s cars, Carlisle’s medication stash. And for, now, it makes sense to keep up the masquerade - the orphaned Cullen kids, in that big old house.

And Seth Clearwater. Neither of them have made more than polite inquiries about the Quileute reservation, because what can they do, really? They weren’t allowed on the land, and nothing they offer will be accepted. Seth doesn’t want to talk about it either, so they just… don’t. Not yet.

The first announcements and news reports are hard to listen to - half of all living creatures. Humans, animals, plants, sea-life… just gone. Then there are the people who survived, but died in the aftermath; the patients in surgery with the dust of their surgeons sinking into their chest cavity, the passengers on an airplane, the school bus with no driver. The news plays on, listing losses and catastrophes until he loudly asks if Seth wants to play Xbox instead.

Alice goes with them, and sits crosslegged on a recliner, watching them.

“Carlisle would have liked that,” she says suddenly, when Emmett realises the error in picking a war game - should have opted for a racing game instead.

“Liked what?” he asks, as he gets up to change the disc. Seth doesn’t say anything, playing with the recliner buttons instead.

“‘Half of all living creatures’,” she quotes. She’s been wearing one of Jasper’s t-shirts under her cardigan, and the scent of his brother is fading the longer she wears it. “Carlisle would have appreciated that. That the universe thought we were living creatures. Might have convinced Edward that we weren’t total monsters, either.”

Seth looks up at her, confused. “Why wouldn’t you be living creatures?” he asks, concentrating at the recliner tips him right back.

“We don’t breathe or age or change,” Alice says, a smirk playing around her face as Seth yelps when the entire chair begins to tip, but luckily it doesn’t fall.

“But you eat,” Seth accepts the controller Emmett passes him. “And you’ve got families. That means you still count.”

“I wish we didn’t.” Emmett doesn’t realise he’s said those words aloud until he realises Seth and Alice are both staring at him. He wants to explain that if they didn’t count, then there wouldn’t be five vases lined up on the mantel (three empty) full of dust. That he wouldn’t be sitting here playing Xbox with Seth Clearwater, and Alice wouldn’t be wearing leggings and her husband’s t-shirt, looking brittle and tired. That he wouldn’t go into their room every night, and bury his face in Rose’s clothes to keep himself from going insane.

But he doesn’t need to. They both understand - Alice sits with Seth when the boy sniffles and tries to hide it; Emmett hears Alice padding around Jasper’s office, having a conversation with thin air, questions asked to silence. If there was some loophole they could grab with both hands and exploit, he knows he and Alice and Seth would take it, humanity and life and all those upright and moral things be damned.

“Just what everyone needs,” Alice muses, leaning back and stretching like a cat. “A world where humans and animals were cut in half but the vampires weren’t.”

And she’s right. That would be a mess. The fucking end of times.

“That would be a cool movie,” Seth says absently, focused on the screen and forcing Emmett’s car off the road and into a ravine.

Alice watches them play for awhile before getting up. A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door and low voices. Charlie Swan, with Carlisle’s phone.  Emmett lets Seth win a second race, focused on the conversation Alice is having - why it took Charlie so damn long to bring the phone, how they’re holding up; his irritation at the delay it took to get Carlisle’s phone is tempered when he hears the genuine concern Charlie has for Alice. He doesn’t know much about Bella’s father, but he seems like a good guy.

Not that Alice needs to act the part - she looks broken. Most of the time he feels like he’s seeing a part of her that he shouldn’t be seeing, that the loss and grief that becomes her is somehow shameful to witness; it’d be less awkward to see her naked than to see her twisting Jasper’s t-shirt in her hands with that glassy look of hopelessness she tries to hide.

Alice feels the same about him; that Emmett without Rose is devoid of that joie de vivre, that endless good humour, the extra joke. He feels tired in his bones, deflated, and distracted with the space in his chest that Rose used to fill. He feels like an old man, when he was never finished being a young man, never made it to middle-age.

But they are trying. Especially with Seth in the house - he’s taken over the bedroom that Esme planned to give to Bella, mostly because it didn’t stink of vampires as much as any other room; and neither of them wanted to dismantle Esme’s studio or Carlisle’s office. It wasn’t really much - a mattress and boxspring, a dresser and desk. Alice had given him a laptop to use, and found some new bedding for him, and occasionally even remembered that a fourteen year old boy shouldn’t be eating pizza six nights a week, and probably needed more boundaries than they were giving him. But Alice isn’t maternal, and her attempts at forcing vegetables and a bedtime on Seth usually get forgotten within a day or two.

Charlie Swan leaves, and he listens as Alice puts Carlisle’s phone into his vase, and then he focuses on the game so that Seth doesn’t think he’s letting him win because of pity or anything.

—

It’s not until late summer than people start bothering them. Parents of classmates who suddenly don’t have any children of their own to worry over. Colleagues and acquaintances who feel some kind of lingering responsibility. Busy-bodies, usually a part of some self-aggrandising self-appointed community group butting into everyone’s grief.

Alice ignores the early attempts to interfere, to crack open both the metaphorical and literal door for anyone who isn’t Charlie Swan. She’s taken to doing the oddest tasks, but Emmett doesn’t ask. At the moment, she’s painting every single door in the house with a swirling pattern of flowers that is tiny and detailed and fills up the day. Esme would have a conniption if she saw her lovely doors like this (he remembers when Alice and Jasper first arrived, and her art projects ran afoul of Esme - she had apologised and channeled that manic energy into embroidery instead; there’s a pair of unspeakably ugly curtains hanging in the Vermont house from one panicked week when Jasper went off with Peter and Charlotte).

Then the harassment starts - both her and him, since he’s apparently considered her ‘guardian’. Alice hangs up the phone numerous times wordlessly before being so outstandingly rude to Mrs Newton that both he and Seth stare at her before Emmett remembers he’s actually supposed to be in charge - as far as the rest of the town knows, at least - and calls to deter any more visits or phone calls or casseroles because Alice isn’t well and the disruptions are upsetting her.

If Carlisle or Esme were here, they’d think to send Mrs Newton flowers or something as an apology, but they aren’t, and no one can get Alice to apologise when she doesn’t want to, and Seth confided in him that she’s crying when he’s hiding in the garage and Seth is totally at a loss over what to do about a crying girl that isn’t Leah, so maybe they’ll just leave it at that. Give the town something new to gossip about.

But it does spark sudden realisation in both Cullens about a topic that has been long forgotten - school. Alice and Emmett have both graduated, but Seth had not. Seth had another four glorious years in high school, even if the Res school is down to double digits of enrolments, and probably won’t even run every weekday.

Seth whines and begs and negotiates until Alice stamps her foot and demands to know what Sue Clearwater would say and that makes Seth all small and miserable, and Alice hates herself and Emmett solves the problem by making a large donation through one of their anonymous charities to the Res school so that Seth can at least do online learning, and apparently that’s a huge deal that is on the local news, and that makes Alice and Seth laugh because only Emmett would stop a teenage boy’s whining by revolutionising a tribe’s educational provisions with a cheque large enough to sustain a small city for a year.

But it’s good help - it means the children who suddenly have no parents and have to raise siblings can still study; it means that half-empty classrooms don’t necessarily mean half-empty classes; it also means that other tribes with larger losses and no way of schooling are invited to join them.

That’s one good thing they’ve managed.

He also fixed the backdoor as good as new, so it should be two, but he’s pretty sure that doesn’t count now that Alice has painted flowers blooming and dying all over it.

At some point they both bully Seth into going home again, to get his own stuff - clothes and bedding and photos and all those things you look for when you’re in a house that isn’t yours. He yells at them, they yell at him, and he storms off. But now there’s a photo of him with his parents and sister on his dresser, and a bunch of books crowding his desk, and the world’s most beat-up DS under his pillow. There are more photos, somewhere - Emmett knows that because Alice knows where they are and then one day there are two framed photos joining the vases on the mantle - one of Sue and Harry Clearwater on their wedding day, and one of Leah laughing. Neither of them knows what happened to Sue or Leah precisely on that day, but Seth doesn’t bring the ashes with him, so they don’t ask.

Summer folds into fall, and what’s left of Esme’s gardens wither up. Charlie Swan checks on them every few weeks, sounding tired. There’s a lot of work for him right now - mostly community and social issues, like scared and orphaned children hiding, people struggling with money, grief, religion. There’s been some shortages of food, since there’s less being grown, less people to process and package and ship it, and a little town hours outside of Seattle is not a priority to whomever is deciding where to send a milk delivery.

They order Seth’s food from high-end places online that deliver them quickly and quietly; Alice starts choosing long-life and bulk items, and no one needs to ask because it’s obvious things will get worse before they get better. Seth holds a pretty intense grudge against the powdered strawberry milk, though.

But food shortages are the least of their worries, as Alice uses the dining room wall to start taking nonsensical notes, and Emmett’s heard enough stories to know that losing a mate can be… well, he’s not having much fun, but the very last thing he needs is to wrangle Alice if she’s lost her mind. Dead or not, he knows he could never lay a hand on her even if she did go nuts out of love for his family, out of respect for Jasper, and out of this funny bond they’ve somehow formed, being the last ones left.

The notes turn into lists, lists of everyone they’ve ever known, in her swirling handwriting. Even people they know are gone, like Bella, goes on the list.

Then she starts striking out names, like she’s slashing with a knife - Carlisle, Esme, Jasper, Rosalie, Edward, Bella, Charlie, Sue, Leah, Sam, Jacob, Paul… Slash, slash, slash.

Then it starts getting interesting. Peter and Charlotte are gone, but so are half the goddamned Volturi (Alice smirks as she crosses out Caius, Jane, Alec, Dimitri because imagining Aro on his throne with grief-mad Marcus and only the minions is a pretty picture indeed). Carmen and Tanya have survived, but Kate, Irina, and Eleazer are gone. Garrett is alive, but Randall and Mary aren’t. J Jenks didn’t make it either, which makes things… difficult.

Alice scowls darkly as she scratches out Maria’s name, and Emmett wonders if it’s because she didn’t get to do the honours of destroying the Mexican harpy herself. Or because wherever Jasper is now, so is Maria, and Alice is left behind.

Finally, she is done, and the list is nearly balanced in living and dead. Alice’s left eye twitches, and whatever she’s thinking she doesn’t say as she stands up.

“Alaska and then Mexico, then,” she says to him, and he gives her the Look that he gives her and Edward and Jasper every time one of them forgets that not everyone has a gift and some of them have to use their words.

“We need to check on Carmen and Tanya; I think they need us,” Alice explains, still examining the list. “I saw that we need to go. And then we’re going down to Mexico.”

“Maria’s dead,” he gestures at her list, and Seth wanders in stuffing his face with Pringles, and turns white at the sight of Esme’s freshly defaced walls; evidently Motherly Wrath is something universal across all of the species.

“Maria’s dead, and left behind a bunch of fresh newborns,” Alice sounds tired. “There’s no one left for clean up, Em, no one who knows. And it will be bad if we don’t step in soon.”

There might be something cathartic in that for Alice, undoing Maria’s life’s work. Maria’s lands weren’t exactly in the wealthiest or most populated lands these days - Jasper kept a secret map that wasn’t at all a secret - and if going down there and taking off a few heads saves a mother or father or child, then maybe it’s worth the hassle.

“Fine. Alaska and Mexico,” he agrees, and Seth cheers.

“Road-trip!” he declares around a mouthful of chips. Alice rolls her eyes.

“I’ll make you up a passport,” she says, not even bothering to argue with the younger boy that he’ll be joining them. “We’ll take the Jeep, Em - Rose just finished it.”

The words hang in the air for a second, and he nods in agreement. There might be something in that, taking the last gift-gesture-offering Rose ever did for him on their End-of-the-World Road Trip. Alice can rip the heads off newborns, he can drive around in the SUV his wife carefully and lovingly put together just to please him, and maybe he’ll buy Seth a beer in Tijuana.

Closest thing they’ll ever get to therapy, he supposes.

#my fic: jar of hearts #alice cullen #emmett cullen #seth clearwater #twilight fic #i should check the jalice prompts again for ch 3 #but is this crossovery enough for a crossover? #like we're aggressively not talking about the avengers yet #we'll get there #i promise the roadtrip isn't just an excuse to run into captain america buying a milkshake or something #there is plot and purpose #we are above that sort of cloying and anemic meet cute #in this fic at least #others not so much

[halliewriteshockey]

Meet Biscuit!

So a few days ago I saw a small Chihuahua on this website, she was a long-term foster and needed a home, her personality seemed well-suited to ours, and since I’m working from home, now’s a great time to integrate a new animal into the household.

We set up an appointment to see this dog, named Nana. But when we got there, we learned we’d been double-booked and another couple was there to look at the same dog and boy they wanted her.

Nana was a great little dog but as long as she had a good home, that was the most important thing, so I told them we’d step back and let them do the application process, and while we waited to see if they were approved, we’d wander the kennels and see the other dogs, just for fun.

So we (my daughter and I) headed up to the small dog pavilion. It was mostly puppies---lil fat fuzzy sausages all sprawled around sleeping in the muggy April afternoon---and one two year old Dachshund/beagle mix.

He said “hello I’m all alone in here please will you talk to me” and I said “... oh no”.

We took him in the trial room and learned a few things. One---he’s so, so submissive. He flattens to the ground when he’s addressed, head down, belly to the floor. His tail is a perpetual motion machine---once it starts, it stops for no man. It’s not aggressive, just a very “I’m so happy to be here” gentle wag. He loves to give kisses, and he needs to learn not to jump up on people. He’s also not sure how to walk on a leash and the volunteer said she didn’t think he was housebroken but she wasn’t sure. He’s two years old and a stray, so no history known. Oh, and he has heartworms, poor bab.

So obviously some stuff to work on, but none of it a deal-breaker, especially considering his very gentle, affectionate personality. He was great with my daughter, listened to my voice, and after 20 minutes spent with him, was already focused on me and quick to respond to verbal and physical cues.

Time to find out how he was with cats. The volunteer carried him because he’s still figuring out leashes and we passed another dog on the way, barking and lunging at us very aggressively. I checked our little guy to see his reaction---his tail was still gently wagging and his ears were up in interest.

When we arrived at the cattery, all he wanted to do was make friends with the cats. Tail still wagging, ears up, nose against the mesh---”hello new friends you’re like me but different I love you!”

That was enough for me. I said I wanted to put in an application.

An hour later, we came home with a dog!! The cats, predictably, were less than amused. We kept them separated for the day, then put the dog in his crate and let Oliver out to meet him. (Connor said NOPE and hid inside the boxsprings) 

There was one growl from the dog, which earned him a quick reprimand, and then lots of sniffing through the bars and inspecting each other. Every time they touched noses and there was no aggression, he got praise and a tiny treat. He figured out very quickly that he had to get along with the asshole. The asshole, however, is under no such compunction to get along with him. 

He hasn’t actually scratched him, but he’s been very pointed in marking his territory in plain view of the dog. My favorite was when he got between us and aggressively loved on me while holding the dog’s eyes. 

The pupper’s name was Gatsby, but we renamed him Biscuit because it fits him better, in my opinion. Also, he appears to be housebroken, he hasn’t barked, whined, or cried at all since coming home (the only exception being when I had to crate him and leave for 2 hours in the evening---he did cry when I got him out after, because he thought he’d been abandoned and he was so happy to be wrong). He cuddles like a CHAMP and he loves to rest his head on my arm while I’m typing and just gaze at me adoringly.

(He and Oliver are both asleep on the bed next to me right now---Oliver on my left, Biscuit on my right)

#Biscuit #I am very so happy #I've wanted another dog for so long and he's so perfect #michaela gets personal #ahhhhh #INNE SO CUTE #come talk to me about him!

[hesymbolized]

to do tomorrow: write out the script of steve’s leaked sex tape.

highlights include the fact the entire thing is filmed at an angle after steve knocks the bookshelf partially on it’s side, the angle obscures most of the action, he and his partner drop entirely from view after steve breaks the bed frame and the boxspring and mattress drop to the ground- unevenly, since beneath the bed there were storage containers filled with sneakers and duvet covers. oh, and if you ever wondered...steve does swear like a filthy fuckin sailor. he’s also significantly more limber then you’d expect in a guy built like steve. someone buy the boy a copy of the kama sutra.

@limelited & @spidaeyheart as this is relevant to your interests and at least nominally your doing.

#:: crack :: <— grandpa says

[simplyghosting]

I cant stand the feel of a bare mattress tbh

IT’S JUST PLAIN UNSANITARY. Yo, I’ve met so many people that don’t take care of their mattresses and I’m just like, oh Lordy that be a breeding ground for bacteria. Like I can sleep on dirt if need be, but man, an unkept and unprotected mattress is nasty.

General Mattress Care 101*:

*as per my mother’s teaching.

1. ELEVATEGet yo mattress off the ground. Be it with a boxspring and stand or some wooden palettes, you gotta allow for some air circulation, otherwise the insides can retain moisture and build up mold, mildew, and/or bacteria.

2. FLIP ITEspecially if you own a spring-based mattress, flip your mattress over once a month. It will help even out the wear of the springs and make the mattress last longer. If you’re fancy and have a pillow-top, you can’t flip your mattress, but you can rotate it (might need a buddy to help). I have a twin that I flip once a month and rotate every 4-6 months and it’s lasted at least 20 years.Bonus: When you have your bed stripped, get a can of disinfectant (lysol or whatever walmart has), and lay it on that bad boy. Helps kill any bacteria and discourages creepy crawlys.

3. PROTECTFitted sheets are important for a weekly wash, but there are also mattress covers. They act as an extra barrier between any bacteria/oils/dirt you get into bed with and your mattress.They might come as sort of plastic-y cover, or my preferred, as a fabric cover.

-The fabric ones are like fitted sheets, but usually less smooth and sometimes padded (you can even get fancy ones with feathers or memory foam). The fabric ones should get washed once a month, and can be done at the same time when you wash your regular sheets (perfect time to flip your mattress!).

-If you get a plastic one, you won’t need to wash it, but you should still disinfect it monthly. The cons of this one for me are that the plastic tends to trap more heat and it gets really hot (which might not be so bad in colder areas). Depending on the type of plastic, you might be able to hear/feel the crinkle under your fitted sheet, and that is a big sensory no-no for me (but if you’re chill with that then it’s a fine option, since they can keep bugs/mites out of the mattress, too).

And that’s the basics of mattress care that I learned growing up.

#ghost answers #this may have gone off on a tangent #but dang like my family takes cleanliness seriously #secret--psalms--saturn #adult survival #mattress care #it's 1am forgive me for any typos

[stripper-patrick]

Back to you 🥡 Grayson Dolan

Warnings: angst, hurt, smut

Song: Breathless by Star Cast

Relationship: Grayson Dolan x black plus sized reader

It was the first time I had seen him in a year and a half. He was wearing a fitted tee with some dark jeans and boots. His large hands clad with a short blonde girl.

It broke my heart to say the least. When he looks up at me the blonde keeps going to the other clothes picking through and he just stares at me. I can see the pain in his eyes. All the memories we ever created together. It’s like they’re being rebranded in his face all over again.

I find a small smile and plaster it on my face before turning on my heel. I sip on my drink and walk through the aisles of target. I just moved into my new apartment and I’m looking for some accessories to design my new home.

“Y/N” my heart drops and I turn around meeting Grayson who’s only 2 feet in front of me.

“Hey” he smiles showcasing that little dimple.

“Hi nice to see you after a while” I mean that genuinely.

“Nice to see you too so what’s up”

“Nothing I just moved into my new apartment and I’m trying to spice it up a bit what about you? I see you have a girlfriend”

He looks back at her then back to me with a forced smile.

“Yea that’s Layla”

“She’s gorgeous” I whisper

“So you said you just moved into you apartment?” He changes the subject

“Yea it’s great right over near that Chinese restaurant we ate at all the time”

“Oh ok those are nice well don’t hesitate to call me if you need help I’d be happy to help” he smiles

“Gray lets go” his girlfriend squeaks

“Alright” he looks back at me “like I said don’t be afraid to call me”

“Thanks Gray” he leaves and I’m left with the whiff of his cologne. I grab some accessories for my new home and leave the store.

...

The last thing I need to put together is my bed and bed frame. I can’t pick that up my myself cause it’s heavy and I really don’t wanna break my nail. I grab my phone and scroll through my contacts. I click on ‘Grayson 🥴’ and press the call button placing the phone to my ear.

On the second ring I hear his deep voice.

“Hello”

“Hey Grayson it’s me Y/N”

“Hey” he perks up

“I was wondering if you could to help me with my bed frame and mattress. It’s too heavy for me by myself uh if your busy don’t worry about -“

“Please Y/N you know I got you send me your address and I’m on my way”

“Ok great thank you so much” I hang up and take a deep breath bracing myself. That’s the only left I have to do and I’m so glad he’s willing to come out here at 8 at night but what if we talk about the past and he tells me how in love he is with his girlfriend and it’ll just break my heart.

I sit down for a minute and just think until I hear a few knocks on the door.

I get up and open it seeing Grayson with a bag that says Thank You.

“I brought Chinese”

“You read my mind” I allow him in and we set on my couch with the Chinese food.

“How much do I owe you”

“Don’t worry about it”

“Gray are you sure”

“Yea were good” we sit down and eat in a comfortable silence. He breaks it.

“So how’ve you been since we last seen each other?”

You mean since we knew we were falling apart? Peachy.

“I’ve been ok what about you”

“Fine” he nods. We fall into a weird silence and I swallow thickly.

“So this mattress and bed frame?” I nod hopping up to show him. He follows me into my bedroom and I have have the bed frame sitting still in the box. We sit down crossing our knees and starting to build the bed.

I turn on some music and enjoy his company.

...

“I remember when I took you to my cousins wedding and you spilled red juice all over her dress” Grayson laughs “she looked like the Japanese flag”

I laugh uncontrollably at the memory “that was the day I wore your favorite dress”

“Yup that beige dress that came down to like here” he points to the middle of his chest “and the high thigh slit”

“I still have that dress”

“Do you?”

“Yea it might be a little tighter on me but I kept it”

“I still have that dark green velvet suit you like on me”

“Ugh that suit” I smile thinking about the night he wore it and I tore him up that night.

“We had sex like 4 or 5 times that night”

I think about it getting myself all riled up. He has a girlfriend what am I doing?

I change the subject real quick “the mattress is right out here”

I stand up and he watches me walk out the room. Soon after Grayson appears and we pick up the mattress laying over the boxspring. I open it from the plastic and let it unfold on the boxspring taking its form. I look at Grayson and smile.

“Thank you so much uh here” I go in my bag and hand him $40.

“No it’s fine”

“No please”

“Y/N I said no” his voice was so powerful and demanding.

“Well then how do you want me to repay you?” Big mistake.

“You don’t want me to answer that” his answer is full of lust.

“Why is that Grayson?” I challenge looking up at him. If anything else turned him on it was eye contact.

I don't want to hurt you

I just wanna blow your mind

Tonight imma leave you breathless

Breathless

He sighs and cups the side of my jaw getting fingers wrapped in my hair. Which isn’t mine but we won’t discuss that right now.

“You know the ways you can repay me Princess”

And I know I'm a rebel

Baby, hope that you don't mind

I just wanna leave you breathless

Breathless

And I oop- I haven’t been called Princess in a very long time- scratch that been called Princess AND FELT SOMETHING!

“God I’ve missed you” he leans down and presses his lips on mine pushing me back on the bed “I think since we just made this bed we gotta test how strong it is”

“I think your right” he kisses me again and I get so lost in it I didn’t realize he was taking off my clothes. My underwear are soiled.

“Your so wet for me and I haven’t even touched you yet” I moan as he touches my throbbing clit. His middle finger rubs small circles on it and I moan.

“Gray please don’t tease me”

“If I remember correctly the teasing turned you on” he kisses my neck and I wet my dry lips moaning.

“I think you’re ready for me princess” he pins my hands above my head and takes off his pants revealing his tight boxer briefs. He leans forward grinding himself against my bare pussy.

“Grayson” I whine

“My rules haven’t changed princess” he had a strict no whining policy simply because in the end I’d get what I want.

Finally he teases my entrance and pushes his girthy long dick inside of me and I arch my back.

Honey, don't worry

You are on your way to heaven

Just relax

“Sorry was I too rough”

“A little it’s been a while”

“I noticed your so tight” he smiles. His lips reconnect with mine and he begins to jut his forwards slowly creating the best torturous rhythm I’ve ever experienced.

“Grayson”

I don't want to hurt you

I just wanna blow your mind

“Tonight I’m gonna make you cum like never before” he always kept his word so I believe him when he says this.

Tonight imma leave you breathless

Breathless

I try to push my hips forward to meet his and get some faster rhythm going on but he stops altogether and sits on his knees. Grayson has fucked me like this one other time and I couldn’t walk for about a week.

He puts my legs on his shoulders and starts to drill me.

And I know I'm a rebel

Really hope that you don't mind

“You like that princess” my answer turns into a moan and I grab his hand wrapped around my thigh. My jaw drops as he finds my g-spot utterly destroying it.

I just wanna leave you breathless

Breathless

“Gray wait please slow down” I moan

“Take. This. Dick” my entire body is bouncing and my moans fill the room. I’m breathless just how he liked it.

“Fuck” I moan. My leg drops to the crease in his arm and he scoffs up further using my shoulders to pound into me deeper and harder.

“Gray I can’t take it anymore please”

“I love when you beg for me princess” he grunts. I clench myself around him and cry out when he rolls my hard nipples between his fingers. Everything just became electrified.

“Grayson fuck” I warn

“I got you princess cum for me come on” he locks me in place and my vision blurs as I scream out gripping the sheets and arching my back. My legs shake uncontrollably and I watch as a smirk spreads across his face.

Once I’m juiced out I push him off and lean down forcing his dick down my throat. I look up to see the look of bliss smeared across his face as he coats my throat with his children.

“Oh my god” he moans. He grabs a handful of my kinky curls and forces me down just a little bit more. I gag a little and he chuckles.

“You always knew how to take my dick princess” I come up and wipe my mouth. He kisses me and I come to my senses pushing him away.

“Oh my god we just had sex”

“Yea it was just as great as the other 50 million times even that shitty plane we did it on”

“Grayson you have a girlfri-“

“Y/N I miss you and I’m so glad you called me over and we did this. I don’t want her anymore”

“If you miss me so much then why did you break up with me”

“Cause I wasn’t straight with myself and it felt like we were drifting Y/N I need you to believe me this time when I say I need you. After we broke up I wasn’t ok and the only reason I even dated Layla was to fill the hole that you left and it didn’t work” he explains

I’m speechless.

He shakes his head and grabs my cheek kissing me again. This one wasn’t filled with lust. This was filled with love and passion. I could feel how bad he truly wanted me back.

I groan and push him off.

“Grayson once you get it together we’ll talk until then figure out your life”

“Can we at least be fuck buddies” I roll my eyes

“Yes Grayson”

He smiles and nods. I walk past him earning a swat to my booty.

“That’s for not calling me for so long”

“Boy please” I go to the bathroom and smile to myself.

#smut #grayson x reader #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan #dolan twins #the dolan twins #dolan twins smut

[sm-entertain-me]

Three’s Company (M)

Contains: Wong Yukhei x (f) reader x Kim Jungwoo, adult language, smut, sexual themes, threesome, oral sex (both male and female receiving), throatfucking, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dom!Yukhei, switch!reader, sub!Jungwoo, strip club!au, exotic dancer!reader

Synopsis: Yukhei was your absolute favorite regular at Club 96; always leaving big tips, actually holding a conversation with you, caring about your health, making you laugh, the whole nine yards. So it was no surprise that you let him sleep with you in your club's private rooms for free on a regular basis. What surprised you is when he brought a friend with him in hopes of tapping into that special treatment.

AN: This is my first ever threesome smut so I hope y’all like it! (NOT proofread)

Once the music started to move through you, you became a totally different person. Your body would sway in tune with the heavy bass that rattled the rafters of the club, gyrating your hips to and fro to extract more tips from your paying customers, flaunting every single part of your body whenever you saw the wave of twenty dollar bills flying from their hands. You loved the kind of attention you got from men, and the pay wasn’t too bad either. What originally started out as a way to make money to put yourself through college quickly became your only and most prominent source of income. Sure there were some risks that came with the job, but it made it all the better. Especially when he showed up to your weekend gigs.

His names is Wong Yukhei, one of the richest patrons in the whole entire club; throwing money on the stage with reckless abandon and refusing to share his girls with anyone else in the club. Yukhei had expensive tastes and quickly found his way to you, the most expensive woman in the whole club. The girls are valued by their experience and their likability in the club, you being one of the ones who had high sex appeal, unique stage presence, and looks that would send every man chasing after you through the dimly lit halls of the club. What also drove your price up was the fact that there were men constantly trying to buy your affection, requesting you almost immediately when they walked through the doors. 

But as mentioned before, Yukhei didn’t like to share. He would make sure you were his and only his the whole time he was at the club, with or without his buddies pulling him to the opposite end of the club to find more girls to dote over. Yukhei had enough money in the world to buy god twice, so he was more than willing to spend a couple hundred thousand to keep you in his sights the whole night. As a thank you for paying your rent on more than one occasion, you offered a night he wouldn’t forget in one of the private rooms that the club provided for some alone time for the customers and the ladies who worked there. Ever since then, you could almost always be found in the private rooms with Yukhei pounding you into the mattress with enough force to reduce the boxspring into splinters. 

As you were busy making your rounds with the patrons, a few of them complimenting your outfit and asking for one on one’s later on in the evening, you felt a hand grip your shoulder. At first, you would’ve turned around and slapped the shit out of the customer since there was a strict “no non-consensual touching” policy in order to protect all of the workers, but you knew who it was when you glanced at the time. “Wong Yukhei,” You chuckled as you turned around to face him, the dim lights of the club cascading over his chiseled features when you got an eyeful of him. “I was thinking you were running late.” 

Yukhei simply snickered at you as he wrapped his arm around your delicate frame, not forgetting to let his fingertips roam the curves of your scantily clad body, “Me? Late to see my favorite girl? Never. I just had to pick up a friend on the way here.” Yukhei then gestured to his friend show stood next to him, awkwardly holding onto the middle of his elbow as his eyes never left your body, widening in pure amazement that Yukhei knew someone as beautiful as you. You let yours eyes wander on the boy’s features to see which one of your girls would suit him best; he was a little taller than you, not by much, hair that was long enough to tickle his eyebrows, adorable smile with slightly chubby cheeks, and eyes that sparkled brightly despite the less than admirable light within the confines of the club. 

Once you were done studying your new patron, you were tasked with finding one of the girls that would fit his personality type. The man in question seemed like this was his first time inside of a gentleman’s club by the way he rarely interacted with any of the women upon entering and how closely he stuck by Yukhei’s side in fear of disturbing one of the private dances going on. Honestly, the whole situation was adorable and it brought you back to the days when you were a newbie working the floor. “Alright, I can probably bring Sarah over to entertain-,” You began but were quickly silenced by Yukhei digging his fingers into your waist and turning you to face him, him leaning in to drag his lips across your neck before whispering, “No baby, I want him to join.”

“Yukhei, you know my rules,” You scolded, holding your own against the man who was currently working your neck against the bar of the club, sucking your neck into shades of purples. Yukhei groaned against your neck, moving his lips off of your neck to look you in the eyes, begging you for your consideration, “Please, babygirl. You’ve treated me so well every time we’re together. Jugwoo wanted to see how great you are for himself.” You couldn’t help but smile, thinking about all the times you and Yukhei hooked up in the rooms. Regardless if he was on top, you were on top, or he was bending you over something; he always knew how to drive you wild and you knew how to make him feel so good that he didn’t know how to form sentences. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad adding someone into the mix. You’ve always heard from the girls around work that some of the best sex they’ve had has been threesomes.

Sighing softly at Yukhei’s persistent nature, you pushed him off of you slightly and turned to the man known as Jungwoo, motioning him over to you with a come hither motion of your finger. Jungwoo perked up immediately and sauntered over to you, smiling brightly as you took his hand in yours. You extended your other hand to Yukhei, waiting for him to lace his fingers with yours so you could drag the two of them to the back of the club to rock both of their worlds. “Come on, let’s see what you can do,” You said with a smirk as you nodded to one of your workers to take over the floor for you as you had some other matters to attend to in the back, noticing a little sway of confidence in your hips as you walked, causing both Yukhei and Jungwoo to dip back slightly and admire your ass in those barely there satin panties. It shouldn’t matter to them since they would be off in a solid two minutes.

You entered the room quickly and let go of the boys’ hands, motioning for them to sit on the bed while you locked the door behind you to stop from any unwarranted interruptions. Yukhei already knew what was expected of him since he had been back here numerous times, already tearing off his leather jacket and beginning to rip off his simple white shirt before he looked over at Jungwoo to do the same. Jungwoo looked at Yukhei and then looked at you with big doe eyes while you stood with your arms crossed, nodding at him to follow Yukhei’s lead. Jungwoo’s hands were shaky as he reached for his shirt but you walked over to him and stood in between his slightly parted legs, grabbing the bottom of his shirt, “Here baby, let me take care of this for you.”

Nodding slowly, Jungwoo kept his hands away from yours as you pulled his shirt over his head to reveal his toned muscles, his face heating up significantly at the way the air nipped his newly exposed skin. Chuckling at his nervousness, you reached out and gripped the underside of his chin, forcing him to maintain eye contact with you as you couldn’t help but to lick your lips at how vulnerable he was for you. Jungwoo looked at you with piqued interest, his eyes flicking from the dominant gaze you held him in to the plumpness of your bottom lip, his tongue jutting out to apply much needed moisture to his lips. “Awe Yukhei, he’s so cute,” You sang out, squishing his cheeks together in the palm of your hand as you gave Jungwoo another once over. Yukhei already made his way to the top of the bed, resting his back against the headboard as he watched you toy with his submissive friend, “Isn’t he? I wanted to see what you’d do to someone like Jungwoo. That boy needs some direction in his life.” 

While Yukhei remained at the head of the bed, watching your every move intently as he palmed his ever growing erection in his tightening jeans, you laid out some ground rules for your new partner. “Listen to me very closely,” You began as you let your hands fall from Jungwoo’s face to trailing up and down his tense thighs, silently commanding him to relax under your touch. “You will do as I say, no matter what I say. The only place you are allowed to cum inside of me is my mouth, not my pussy. If you do, I’m charging you the full rate and my services don’t come cheap, just ask Yukhei. You can touch me all you want, but you cannot touch yourself until I tell you, you understand?” Jungwoo was completely frustrated at this point and was a whimpering mess as your hand drew nearer to his cock, nodding vigorously at your demands in hopes you would speed the process up. You smirked devilishly as you let your fingers slip inside of his pants, tugging lightly at the smooth denim, “Good boy.”

Even though you were calling the shots with Jungwoo, Yukhei was calling the shots with you. Yukhei demanded that you only suck Jungwoo off and save your tight pussy for him since his dick was the only one that belonged inside of you. You weren’t one to disagree with Yukhei since he was completely right, so you listened to his demands as you tugged Jungwoo’s pants off of legs and let them pool around his ankles. Jungwoo’s face was already beginning to look fucked out as he looked down at you with hooded eyes, watching as you licked your lips to apply much needed saliva. Seconds later, you hovered over Jungwoo’s throbbing tip and pressed your tongue flat against it, groaning at the salty taste of the precum that touched your expert muscle. You heard Jungwoo hiss in pleasure as his hands gripped handfuls of the sheets next to him, keeping his eyes trained on you as you settled more comfortably on your knees to prepare to suck Jungwoo’s soul out through his cock.

“Fuck you look so hot on your knees babygirl,” Yukhei groaned as he watched you from behind Jungwoo, scooting closer to the edge to get a better view of you sucking Jungwoo off. You smirked at Yukhei as you kept eye contact with him this time, knowing how much he was enjoying watching you. You let your lips encase Jungwoo’s surprising girth, sliding all the way down his length and licking a bold stripe on the underside of his cock that had his knuckles turning white. 

A smirk found its way onto Yukhei’s face as he leaned over to Jungwoo who was trying to keep himself under control no matter how much you made him squirm in delight, “She likes it when you guide her. You wanna fuck her throat, don’t you?” Jungwoo’s jaw was clenched tight as you continued to hollow your cheeks around his length to force more precum to spill out of his slit, licking back up to collect it and run it all around his length as Jungwoo choked out, “Oh god yes. I w-wanna fuck her throat s-so bad.” Yukhei laughed at his friend’s desperation as he grabbed his hand that was gripping so tightly on the sheet and placed it on the back of your head, his fingers immediately lacing into your soft hair, “Then do it. Fuck her throat until she’s crying.”

Jungwoo’s grip on your hair got nearly as tight as the grip he had on the sheets as he pressed you further down his length, forcing his cock to the back of your throat and groaning at the way your throat collapsed whenever you gagged on him. This egged him on as he took his other hand and gripped your hair in the same way, pushing you down hard and yanking you back up at a speed that had him choking back sobs of pure pleasure while bucking his hips into your from below. The pace Jungwoo set on your throat was intense as he buried his cock deep into your throat, his head thrown back from the moistness and heat of the inside of your throat, cursing in Korean at how good your mouth felt around his cock. “You like that baby?” Yukhei spoke again, watching you with a look of intense hunger as he had his boxers thrown on the opposite end of the room, stroking himself lazily at the sight in front of him. You hummed in response as you tried to hold back another gag but were left with no choice as Jungwoo bucked himself inside of you harshly, determined to get himself to release into your mouth.

“Mmmf, ahh! She feels s-so good!” Jungwoo cried out as he continued to fuck his way down your throat, pushing you so far down his length that your nose was bumping into his toned groin. You didn’t know how much more you could take as Jungwoo was starting to give you lock jaw from how long he was lasting, opting to do something that almost always got Yukhei to release his hot cum down your throat. As a last ditch effort to get Jungwoo to cum, you took your hands and began to fondle his balls, allowing the skin to slip in between the spaces of your fingers as he continued to fuck your throat with no chance of slowing down. Jungwoo’s eyes shot open immediately at the new sensation as his grip on your hair began to loosen, indicating he was close. 

“Oh fuck, don’t stop,” Jungwoo begged as he threw his head back in intense desire, his hips beginning to stir underneath you the more you fondled his balls in your hand. One particular squeeze of your hand mixed with the hollowing of your cheeks around his cock sent Jungwoo spiraling as he came down your throat, groaning out something that sounded like your name. The feeling of his cum sliding down your throat surely caused another slick of moisture to pool in your expensive panties, relishing in the taste of someone that wasn’t Yukhei. Jungwoo finally let go of your hair as he fell backwards on the bed, breathing heavily as you pulled your mouth off of his hardening cock, making sure to give him one last lick to clean him off properly. You looked up at Yukhei and laughed his friend who looked absolutely drained on the bed, “Poor thing couldn’t handle me.” Yukhei’s eyes turned from light to the deepest, darkest stare as he stood up from the bed, making his way over to you like a predator sizing up his prey, “But I sure can.”

Yukhei immediately pressed himself against you, encasing you in his strong frame as his arms hooked together around your waist, taking his huge palm and sliding them to the underside of your ass to give you a harsh squeeze. A moan sprung free at the contact as his tongue fell into yours, coating your tongue in his saliva as he devoured you. “Yukhei,” You groaned out as your hands were gripping tightly on his massive shoulder blades in order to keep you on your feet by how well Yukhei was sucking the air out of you. “Mmm?” Yukhei questioned as he ghosted his lips over your still purple neck, applying tender kisses to the abused skin. You wanted to speak, but you were too weak to do so as Yukhei gave another squeeze to your ass, groaning at the feeling of his callused hands running along the smooth skin of your plush ass. 

He was an animal, kissing you like a man starved and the only way he could be fed was sucking the breath out of you with every movement of his lips. Yukhei had always been talented with his tongue, in more ways than one, but what he was really good at was finger fucking you. He knew how good he was by the way you would moan out when his fingers barely touched your clit. Yukhei smirked as he pulled his lips off of your neck, staring at you intensely as he played with your soaking entrance, pressing the tip of his digit just shallow enough for you to feel him but not acquire any pleasurable sensations. “Fuck, Yukhei. Please!” You begged, trying to grind your pussy against his stilled hand. A look of feigned innocence took over his face as Yukhei tilted his head to the side, “Please what?” “Please do something!” You asked for it.

Yukhei smirked devilishly as he shoved you on the bed behind you, stalking towards you as you sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to take you. Jungwoo was still a little out of it as he picked his head up and looked at you, his pupils widening at the sight of you being so needy. “Welcome back Jungwoo. You’re just in time to watch me fuck Y/N until she’s screaming,” Yukhei said as he slipped his boxers off of his bulging thighs, turning to look at Jungwoo. “Take her panties off for me.” Jungwoo nodded as he looked over to you, you nodding at him that it was okay as he hovered over you.

Jungwoo’s hands shook along the expanse of your thighs as he gripped the expensive satin in his hands, groaning out at the sight of a wet spot pooling in the middle of them. Jungwoo’s breath became choppy as he continued to pull the panties off of you, tossing them to the side and looking at your embarrassingly wet pussy that was already pooling on the sheets below. “You seem hungry,” You teased at Jungwoo as you pushed yourself on your elbows, smirking at the look of desperation on his face. He simply nodded at you, not bothering to say a word in fear his tone of voice would sound needy, eyes still transfixed on the sight in front of him. Not a second later, Yukhei grabbed Jungwoo’s jaw and forced him to look at him, “Then eat.”

You were surprised at Yukhei’s willingness to allow Jungwoo to eat you out instead of him since Yukhei’s favorite part of anything was him devouring your pussy and feeling your juices drip down his chin, but he was full of surprises. Yukhei took to lying next to you on the bed as he continued to slide his tongue all over the skin of your neck, leaving a trail of saliva that ended around your nipples as Jungwoo dove in between your legs. The sensation of Jungwoo’s tongue playing with your clit caused you to buck your hips up instinctively, moaning out as Yukhei silenced you with placing a finger in your mouth to suck as he took care of your breasts. Jungwoo groaned into your pussy after dipping his tongue inside of you to taste you completely, hands reaching up and planting your thighs to the bed as he continued to eat you out like it was his last meal. 

As Yukhei’s tongue swirled and nipped at the skin surrounding your pert nipples and Jungwoo slid his tongue all around the inside of your pussy to collect all the juices he could on his tongue, you gripped at the sheets and felt your knuckles getting white. Yukhei looked up at you with a look of carnal need as he saw your mouth hanging open, cocking an eyebrow at you, “Do you want Jungwoo to make you cum like this? Or me?” Although Jungwoo was great at giving you oral, no one could compare to the way Yukhei completely devour you from the inside. “Y-You,” You cried out as Jungwoo’s tongue curled up to swipe along the tender skin, forcing a bead of sweat to fall down your face. Yukhei nodded as he grabbed Jungwoo’s hair, essentially yanking his tongue out of you and scolding him for being too selfish. It was Yukhei’s turn now.

Yukhei finally settled his face in between your legs, turning his head to nip at the tender skin and place more hickies on your body to match the ones on your neck. Jungwoo was tasked with watching you and comforting you at the headboard, stroking your hair carefully and offering a kind smile while Yukhei abused your pussy. Rough is an understatement when describing Yukhei. His tongue would lap up the juices of your pussy as he dipped inside of you slowly, feeling the way your walls would clench and unclench around him to allow him to continue to fuck you with his tongue. One particular swipe of his tongue caused you to reach up and grab Jungwoo’s arm, holding on for dear life while Yukhei sucked wildly on your clit, the sounds of his slurping on your clit becoming so lewd that Jungwoo was actually concerned. You assured him everything was fine until Yukhei pinned your legs down and really went to town.

“Fuck! Yukehi I can’t!” You cried as tears began to fall from your eyes, crying from the fact that Yukhei had pulled you into a second orgasm with just his tongue within minutes of each other. Jungwoo was struggling to keep you under control as he cooed at you and continued to stroke your hair while Yukhei refused to let go of your clit until it was throbbing uncontrollably against his tongue. Luckily for you, Yukhei finally left you alone as he pulled his mouth off of you, raising his head up to admire your fucked out face knowing he had done that to you. “You look so beautiful when you’re cumming baby,” Yukhei commented as he crawled up on the bed to hover over you, leaning down to give you a kiss as your juices still remained on his lips and were starting to dribble down his chin. “Doesn’t she, Jungwoo?” Jungwoo nodded at his friend’s observation, recalling how wonderful you looked with your eyes screwed tight and hands digging into his skin. “Now,” Yukhei began as he fumbled with his length that throbbed wildly against his hand, looking down at you with his darkened gaze. “Princess has to make me cum, doesn’t she?” 

Although Jungwoo really wanted to be in on fucking you into the mattress, Yukhei remained strict on his rule of not letting him inside of you. You were Yukhei’s, and Yukhei was about to show Jungwoo why. “Fuck, how are you still so tight?” Yukhei groaned as he sheathed himself completely into you, not moving just yet until you were ready in case you still had some feelings of overstimulation. You smiled cutely up at Yukhei as he grabbed onto your ankles and threw them over his shoulders, “Maybe you don’t fuck me hard enough?” That made something in Yukhei change, like flicking at switch as the grip on your ankles got tighter and he leaned closer to your face, “I don’t fuck you hard enough, huh? We’ll see.”

Yukhei grabbed each of your ankles and forced your legs apart the furthest they would go so he could completely spread you open, drawing his hips back and snapping back into you with the force of ten thousand men. The look of anger on his face from your teasing was something that frightened you as he pounded into you from above, smacking his hips against the inside of your thighs to make his point. Every thrust from him was harder than before as he had to grab onto the headboard with one of his hands to support his harsh fucking, determined on making an indent on this mattress in the shape of your body to let everyone know just how hard he fucked you.

“This better for you?” Yukhei grunted, punctuating his words with a back breaking thrust. “Am fucking you hard enough now?” Garbled noises fell from your lips as you dug your nails into his honeyed skin, dragging your nails down the skin to leave red streaks in their wake. Yukhei threw his head back from the burning sensation you gave him and leaned back on his knees to pull your ass off of the bed, plowing into you so hard that you were sure Yukhei had punctured your insides and was deeply set in your guts. “F-fuck!” You cried out as your eyes began to screw tight but were met with Yukhei’s hand gripping the underside of your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Uh uh. I want you to look at me while I fuck you this way,” Yukhei commanded as he tightened his grip on your chin, keeping you in place as he admired the way his cock would bury deep inside of your soaking and rapidly pulsing pussy. “This pussy was made for me.”

The room was filled with the sound of the headboard smacking wildly against the wall behind you, Yukhei’s animalistic grunting, your muffled screams and cries, the sound of Yukhei’s hips slamming into yours, and Jungwoo panting in the corner as he worked himself to another orgasm. Your hands struggled to find purchase on Yukhei’s skin that glistened with sweat as you could feel the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at the force Yukhei was pummeling into you, whimpering loudly whenever his cock slid against the most sensitive part of your walls. “Come on baby, cum for me!” Yukhei groaned out as he threw his head back and his hips began to stir, showing he was close. He was determined to get another orgasm out of you before he shot his seed inside of you.

As Yukhei continued to drive his cock deep inside of you, one of his hands came down in between your bodies and latched onto your still sensitive clit from his abusive oral session. He began tracing shapes into the sensitive skin at a sinful rate, flicking mercilessly against you as he desperately tried to pull you into your high. Your back left the soft silk of the mattress below you as you came hard around Yukhei’s cock without so much as a simple word from you, only nonsensical sounds coming out of you as you were left breathless underneath Yukhei’s still moving hips. The look on your face was enough to send Yukhei to his edge as he stared at your face intensely, admiring your soft features that were twisted into shapes of extreme pleasure while he finally released in side of your slick pussy, completely covering every inch of your pussy with his hot cum that slowly leaked out of you. 

You could’ve sworn your blacked out from the intense orgasm Yukhei gave you as you woke up next to him, feeling completely numb and blissfully euphoric as your head lay on his bare chest. Yukhei leaned down and placed a tender kiss to your head as he greeted you from your nap. “How long was I out?” You questioned, picking your head up to get a better look of him since he was so goddamn beautiful with his after sex glow. “Not as long as him, apparently,” Yukhei joked as he flicked his head in the direction of Jungwoo being passed out with his softened cock in his hand and a thin layer of cum surrounding his hand. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight in front of you, not thinking that Jungwoo could pass out for that long. To be fair, he was put through two orgasms so you’ll cut him some slack. “Also,” Yukhei’s deep voice rang out over the dull music of the club. “I’m not helping him clean up.”

#Wong Yukhei #Wong Yukhei smut #Wong Yukhei fanfiction #Lucas #Lucas smut #Lucas fanfiction #Huang Xuxi #Huang Xuxi smut #Huang Xuxi fanfiction #Kim Jungwoo #Kim Jungwoo smut #Kim Jungwoo fanfiction #NCT #NCT 127 #NCT U #NCT 127 smut #NCT U smut #NCT 127 fanfiction #NCT U fanfiction #WayV #WayVsmut #WayV fanfiction #Kpop #Kpop smut #Kpop fanfiction

[lettuce-seize-the-day]

Found ch. 2

Yeah I’m posting chapter 2 here, it seemed to do a lot better when I did that! The AO3 link is here. As always, feedback is desired, encouraged, and greatly appreciated!! :)

TW: there’s allusions to Jack’s self-harm and mention of a razor blade. He doesn’t do anything with it, but I wanna be careful!! 

“So this is your room,” said Medda. “It ain’t much, but it’s yours, for as long as you’d like it.”

Jack looked around the room. There was a big window with a view of the city. On the opposite side of the room, there was a twin XL mattress sitting on a bedframe. The bedframe was a pleasant surprise- that was a hit or miss in the foster homes he had been in. More often than not, the mattress and boxsprings were directly on the floor. Between the bed and the window, an old-looking wooden desk was against the wall with a wheely office chair. Across the room from the desk was a closet next to a dresser with more drawers than Jack could possibly fill with what was in his one bag, not that that was saying much.

As he took in the room, Medda started talking again. “You can rearrange or decorate any way you want. This is your space now. If you’ve got any pictures or posters, feel free to hang them up. We could get them framed, if it’d make you feel more at home. Or if you don’t have any, we can get you some. What are you interested in?”

“I like art,” Jack said quietly as he set his bag down on the ground. What he didn’t tell her was that he never hung things up in places that he went because he didn’t want to get attached to anything. Or feel settled in any place. And the only things in his bag were some old clothes and his sketchbook. Well, those weren’t the only things.

“Oh good! I think I’ve got some art supplies around here somewhere. Just let me know whatever you need and we can get it, alright?”

“Sure. Thank you, Miss Medda,” said Jack.

“Oh sweetie, you can just call me Medda. If we’re gonna be family, I’d prefer to be on a first-name basis.”

“Whatever you say, Medda.”

There was a beat of silence. “Well, Jack, why don’t you uh, make yourself at home. There’s some sheets and blankets in the closet if you’d like to make your bed. I’m gonna go get started on dinner, but I’m right down the hall if you need anything, alright?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said.

She paused for a moment as though she was going to say something more, then seemed to change her mind and retreat.

As Jack began to make his bed, he thought back to how many times he had done this already. It was strange to think this would be the last time. He’d have to go to a new school. Again. It was August, and he was still a minor. At least it was just one more year to get through, and he’d never have to do it again. Thank God, he thought. School had been a nightmare for him. He was more artistically inclined than academically, and with that in addition to never having a stable environment, he did not exactly impress any of his teachers. Plus, with never sticking around in one place for very long and not being able to afford new things very often, he wasn’t very popular amongst the students either. Best case scenario so far was at schools where he didn’t get noticed at all. The attention he got from students did not tend to be of the positive variety. Not by a long shot.

Honestly, Jack was surprised he had made it this far, not that he had ever told anyone that. Thinking about his future in any regard gave him severe anxiety, so he did his best not to. He knew he wanted to get out of New York. That much was certain. There was nothing for him here. He worried often that there wasn’t anything for him anywhere. But that was something else he tried not to think about.

Jack looked at his bag sitting on the floor. He had no desire to unpack it. Unpacking tended to imply settling in. He always avoided it as long as he could, and while Medda was probably the kindest foster parent he had encountered thus far, it didn’t change his nature.

With a sigh, he sat down on the bed and pulled his bag up and into his lap to take inventory. Clothes. Sketchbook. Pencil case holding his art supplies. He opened up the case- wood pencils, colored pencils, watercolor palette, a couple of paintbrushes that had definitely seen better days. And at the bottom, two pencil sharpeners. One with the blade still attached. Jack opened up the second one just to make sure. The blade was right where he left it, loosely resting in the slot where the pencil was meant to go. Always reliable. He didn’t need to do it now, he just needed to be assured it was still there.

It wasn’t terribly often that it happened. And never terribly bad. Sometimes, he just needed to blow off some steam. Usually, it happened when he started thinking about the things he tried so hard not to think about.

After putting everything back into his bag, he zipped it up and set it on top of the dresser. He jumped as he heard someone knock on his door. “Come in?” he called out. The door opened and a tall, lanky blond boy stepped in. Behind him, there was a shorter boy who walked with a crutch.

“You must be Jack,” he said. “I’m Race, and this is Crutchie. Medda told us to tell ya dinner’ll be ready in a bit and it’s time to wash up.”

“Thanks,” he said. “How long youz guys been here?”

“With Medda, ya mean?” asked Race as he jumped onto Jack’s desk and sat down. “Almost a year, I think. Crutchie’s been here longest.”

“Long as I can remember, almost. Medda was my godmother, and my folks were in a bad accident when I was a kid. She took me in right away,” Crutchie said as he sat in the wheely chair.

“So you ain’t neva been in the system, huh?” asked Jack.

“Guess I lucked out. I ain’t heard many good things about it from the otha fellas that been through here. I neva woulda made it with this bum leg. I got sick when I was real young, and it neva recovered.”

“Lotta fellas been through here?” asked Jack.

“Oh, yeah. Medda loves takin’ care’a kids. Keeps in touch widdem, too, afta they get outta here,” said Race. “Once ya become one’a hers, ya got family for life, no matta where ya go. Thanksgiving gets real messy, but it's kinda fun.”

“What’s the catch?” asked Jack, half-sarcastic.

“Catch?” asked Crutchie.

“Ain’t no catch,” said Race. “I been here almost a year and I been through a lotta places. Far as I can tell, the worst part’a bein here is how much Medda cares.”

“Whaddaya mean?” asked Crutchie.

Race and Jack shared a look, and Jack understood exactly what he meant. When someone cares, it means they’re invested. Meaning, when you inevitably fuck up or do anything self-destructive, it hurts them too.

“Nothin,” said Race. “Fuggettaboutit.”

“How old are ya, Jack?” asked Crutchie.

“Seventeen. You?”

“I’m fourteen. Race is sixteen. Just had his birthday last week.”

Jack looked at Race. “You guys actually celebrate birthdays here?”

“Oh, yeah. Medda goes all out. Makes a cake, sings the song, candles and everything. Even gets ya a gift. She got me new dance shoes,” said Race.

“You’re a dancer?” asked Jack.

“Only ‘cuzza Medda. I always wanted to but neva got ta have lessons. Now I have ‘em three times a week. And she took out the carpet in my room so’s I can practice.”

“What kinda lessons?” asked Jack.

“Ballet, tap, and jazz. Tap’s my favorite.”

Jack was surprised. Most foster families he had been through couldn’t afford extracurriculars at all, let alone multiple dance lessons.

“Boys, come on, supper’s ready,” Medda called from down the hall.

"C'mon, let's go. Medda's a great cook. You'll love it here," said Crutchie.

Jack wasn't so sure, but he followed anyway.

#newsies #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #javid #i SWEAR its coming #next chapter #it actually was gonna be this chapter but this seemed like a good transition point #its already written #anyway thanks for reading if u do!!!!