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mistydeyes · 7 months

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Hi,if you’re not busy can you write a fic of Cod characters with a cia agent gf ?

yes ofc! yk i love a good little government agent gf moment :)

a double life

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summary: From hidden occupations to a particular set of skill sets, the 141 learns to adapt to having a girlfriend who has all the right qualifications (and who could completely kick their ass).

pairing: Task Force 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of weapons/violence

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price

"Sorry I can't be there to meet you, Price," Laswell spoke over the web camera feed, "got tied up in South America." Price nodded as he held the bridge of his nose, Laswell had promised her best field agent to act as a point person for their mission in New Zealand. However, just the thought of some middle-aged retired veteran or worse yet, hot-shot rookie, made his headache pound even further. "She's a good one, Price," Laswell reassured, "skilled in practically every major language and the best marks in her physical fitness examination." "Yes Kate, I read her file, but it seems like you failed to include a photo-" He was interrupted by a sturdy knock at the door. "Looks like she's here."

As you cracked the door open, you practically dropped the files that sat in your arms. "What are you doing here?" Price asked jovially and you could feel the breath release from your sternum, "didn't expect an on-base visit like this." As the pieces began to fit together, you realized he didn't know what you were actually there for. "John, Kate sent me here," you whispered as you shut the door gently, "heard you're going to New Zealand." As the realization hit him like an oncoming train, you braced for impact. "You-you work for the CIA?" he asked almost foolishly and you nodded in response. "I did say I worked in Virginia," you corrected, "and you had to know my surprise visit yesterday wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing." Price could feel his headache reach a fever pitch as he reviewed your file again. "Then what's with the name?" he asked, "you lie about that too." You let out a laugh as you explained, "People have nicknames and mother's maiden names, John." As you sat back in your chair and crossed your legs, Price wondered what he had done for the universe to gift him you.

soap

Despite your initial reservations, Johnny was quite good at keeping your occupation vague and nonchalant in conversation. You were honest about your work in central intelligence and he took that secret to the grave. Your long-distance relationship was written off as you working in some company in DC and no one batted an eye at your occasional inference at military strategy or surveillance techniques. When you returned home, you would always be sure to show him extra appreciation for his covertness. "Tryna make me patriotic?" he would joke before you would kiss him and stifle his laughs.

However, he loved testing your skill set and seeing if you were as trained of an operative as your file read. "Let's see what they teach you over there, Bonnie," he joked as he lined up his sights at the air gun range. You refrained from kicking him as you stood back to watch him. You almost let out a laugh when you saw his small pellet ricochet just slightly off target. "Hmm and that's why Ghost is your long-range weapons specialist," you teased as he got up and switched positions. You breathed in as you looked down your sights and positioned your rifle towards the farthest target on the range. "You Americans, always so fucking cocky," he muttered under his breath before you quickly shut him up with a quick shot directly into the center of the target. The metal hen spun around widely at your expert marksmanship and you exhaled your held breath. You stood up and tried to size up your tall boyfriend. "Best 2/3?" you offered and you smiled as he kissed your forehead before ushering you out of the way to try again. "Fucking CIA training," he whispered as he got into position again. "You say something, you glorified sergeant?"

gaz

It was 4 am when you arose from the bed and leaned into Kyle, taking in his warmth and seeking refuge from the cold London air. You could always rely on your boyfriend to be your human-sized space heater. As you laid your head across his chest, you could feel him stir lightly. "Time to go already, love?" he asked with his eyes still closed and you muttered in confirmation. You always knew what challenges came with living so far away from the States but you had someone who made it all worth it. He kissed your forehead lightly as you rolled off the bed. You tried to quietly make your way to the bathroom to let him get some more hours of precious sleep but upon your return, it was clear Kyle was more awake than before.

"You sure you don't need me to drive you to the airport?" he offered yet again as you dressed quickly in dress slacks and a blouse. "MI6 is sending a car," you explained as you collected your overnight bag, "just try to get some sleep, my love. I'll text you when I land in Langley." Despite your soft kiss on the cheek, Kyle still pouted as you pulled away. "Don't understand why you can't be a liaison officer for us," he mumbled but you ruffled his hair slightly. "When the position becomes available, I'll be the first application on there," you smiled, doing a final check of your things, "just tell Price to write me a hell of a recommendation letter." With that, you shared another long kiss as you slightly cringed at his morning breath. "I'll be sure to say hi to the cybercrime analysis team for you, hopefully, they'll actually take my advice this time," you laughed before exiting out of your apartment and embracing the cold English air you had grown to love.

ghost

When the question arose of your occupation, you would always smile and defer to being just an "American government worker." However, you always knew Simon had more than just an inkling as to your occupation. When you spoke about military strategy, and combat techniques, or even had various conversations in different languages over the phone, it was clear to him that you were more than just a civilian. The shock didn't even resonate with him when you uttered the words, "Paramilitary Operations Officer," it all seemed to fall into place. He wouldn't bat an eye when it came to long stretches of days that you were in minimal contact with him. "I'll be back," you would reassure as you pulled on a dark hoodie and headed out the door with a bag. Simon would always be there to clean your wounds and ice your bruises.

It was a shock when Simon hadn't heard from you in a month. You had left in the middle of the day in a black Mercedes that disappeared off the English skyline. It was the unfortunate timing that he had been on leave when you left and there had been no word from Price regarding a new mission. Every morning, he would turn over in your king-sized bed expecting to see you smiling back at him. However, the days dragged on without any information meeting his ears. You could practically still picture his terrified face when you turned the key into the door and slammed your bag down. Simon paused upon seeing your blackened eye and wrapped knuckles. The eye bags on your delicate face further added worry to the situation. "Don't ask," you whispered as you fell into his chest, "intel was shit." That was all Simon needed to lift you gently and place you back on the couch. As he held you in his arms with an ice pack to your eye, you slightly pulled away from his touch. "I promised I would come back, didn't I?"

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melinoelliones · 10 months

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BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK BLACK BUTLERS COMING BACK

Say hello to my husband <3 I was tryna wait till October to do Black Butler shit but now I gotta....

Reminder, how I interpret these characters may be different to how YOU interpret them, don’t jump me if you dislike what I say. X fem and X gn reader

This is more on the Undertaker before his ass takes off the hat side, so the jokey cheeky Undertaker. ALSO MANGA SPOILERS FOR THE LETTER W!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s probably giggling to himself and mocking the noises and phrases you said during sex LMAOOOOO. Really tho he’ll defo pull the blankets over you and feed you one of them dog bone biscuits, kisses in abundance, nothing too crazy as he will probably leave while you sleep do to fuck knows what.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves our whole body, he examines it like crazy and he says it’s so “he can fit us for a coffin one day”...... I feel like he loves our throat though 100%

On him, he loves his hands and he takes VERY good care of them, fresh set n everything we all saw that shit

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Enjoys doing it on your entire front, all of it, top to bottom

Also loves it down your throat, you can never take it all at once so watching it trickle down the corners of your mouth alongside your spit and tears is everything to him

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Enjoys doing stuff while he has customers present, if you make a noise or people get suspicious he’ll laugh or do something stupid to get people off it

He has shamelessly got off to the thought of you, maybe even your underwear

He begs and he enjoys doing it

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is quite experienced I’ll be honest

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Riding in all ways possible, he wants you on him, grinding up against him whilst he helps you. Watching your needy face try to take everything in has him grinning like a crazy man

Missionary where your legs are over your head pretty much. You pushing his hair to the side as he’s panting and whimpering slightly, you know he’s close but he won’t stop

Any position where you are half hanging out a coffin, kinda like stuck in a wall but your stuck half out a coffin? He probably made a custom one JUST for this. Hearing your moans echo off the walls of the coffin keeps him going.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very goofy, keeps the jokes going THROUGHOUT

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s pretty wild down there imma be real

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is always making jokes and sometimes being cocky but he’ll always show an intimate side straight after

“F~Fuck just like that, please please keep going” he’d choke out laughing, mocking what you had just moaned out. “Don’t give me that face, I want to hear more of it” he’d laugh once more at your pout, pulling you into a kiss whilst pushing deeper into you.

Sum like that

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

A lot and he has NO shame in it. It’s pretty shocking how often he can do it. Sometimes he’ll stay pent up just to get off when he knows you’re coming home as he knows you love when he’s a whimpering n babbling mess, maybe you’ll even decide to help him out?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Blindfolds, he loves to mess with ALL of your senses while you can’t see

Knife kink and blood but its SUBTLE. You may or may not have seen him store away a bit of your blood though, wonder what he’s saving that for…..

Restraints, wants to tie you up around his shop

Toys for both of you, watching you desperately cry out to cum as he keeps turning off the vibe

Choking, he enjoys doing it while thrusting into you with full force, hearing you choke out moans and mumbles while he tightens his grip

Dacryphilia for sureeee, would examine your face and wipe your tears while fucking into you with no remorse. Even lets out a giggle or two while at it

“Well would you look at that, you’re crying my dear, such a pretty specimen indeed. Cmon you can hold out for me, just a bit longer and i’ll make you feel so so good”

Not sure if its a kink but pussy eating. He will sit there for as long as he can just eating you out till you're completely numb from the waist down.

"You haven't used your safeword yet you've cum 4 times in a row, is it too much for you yet hehe? Cmon, let me wipe those tears, you're too pretty to cry. Now how about I make it 6 times, or even 10 AHA, can you take all that my sweet sweet doll? Let's see shall we?" he'd smirk whilst shoving a couple digits into your already sopping core, tongue already making its way to your swollen clit. He would go on all night long if he could.

L = Location (favourite places to do they do)

Every corner of his store, if you can see it, you've done it there. Favourite would probably be on his desk though.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

YOU! JUST YOU! You are something he’s never seen before and the way you make him feel is unmatched.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Anything outside the shop or on ONE specific coffin.... Whats in there?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a munch, yes I said it

Begs to have you on his face, even if that beg is in riddles or him twisting the narrative

“Hehe cmon, you know you want to, have a seat my dear, it's all yours”

“I want to taste you just once more, cmon don’t be shy, I won’t bite, unless you want me to hehe”

He also loves receiving too though, you under his gown, even when customers are in and he’ll be giggling while starting to fuck your face on the other side of the desk

“Aha, look at you, you did brilliantly. You barely made a peep whilst they were here, such a special specimen indeed” he’d coo, pulling back his cloak to ease you off his cock, your tears mixed with his release rolling down your lower face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s cheeky as fuck. Would start slow, then speed up to a perfect pace then as you are close slow all the way back down, to the point where it's technically edging and you can’t even get off. I can hear him giggling now

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He says “Come on my love, we can make it quick” then ya’ll are at it for an hour. Ultimate LIAR. It gets boring in his shop so ya’ll still do it often anyway

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Hell yeah but he knows you will never get caught. Just for entertainment you defo tried to get caught but he covered it up swiftly

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go for a hot minute, like 5+ rounds. With his personality people could think otherwise but absolutely not.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

A sucker for a toy. He defo made a pocket pussy using YOURS, so when you aren’t with him he has a replica but he knows it's not exactly the same. Also has a vibe, he has sensitive nipples and we take FULL advantage of that

He loves to use toys on you too though, watching how they make your body react is quite fascinating. He can tell the difference between fake and his real thing though and he adores it, your needy face begging for the real thing is everything. Only he can make you feel certain ways

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Too much, but the orgasms he makes you reach after are always worth it

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When he’s seriously into it he only grunts and dirty talks, otherwise it's the opposite, whimpering and cursing under his breath

“How does that feel my dear? You like it deep don’t you”

“Your body takes it so well, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep g~going much longer”

“Listen to yourself, all this dirty talk from such a sweet specimen?”

“A girl like you should be walking the streets of Soho, yet here you are taking the cock of an Undertaker. How did I get so lucky to have the dirtiest of them all stroll through my doors?”

“Aha, keep going love, i’m not finished just yet”

W = Wild card (a random dirty headcanon for the character)

Would consider making you into a puppet when you die and keeping you for…. Personal reasons

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Dude is pretty big so imma say 8/9 inches, more on the slenderish side but veiny

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Unusually high

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He doesn’t, he’ll pretend to but go off once you’re asleep. Dudes got things….. to do.......

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thebattleofstarcourt · 2 years

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Hello!! So my mother is dressing up as Belle from beauty and the beast for her 46th costume birthday party (very Leo behavior) and I can’t get it off of my head that Beauty and the Beast would be THE perfect nickname for a Eddie Munson x GirlyReader fic 🥺 if you are accepting requests that is! Love your work! Have a great day ❤️🤏🏼

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ beauty n the beast

eddie munson x fem!reader

a/n: thank u for the rq and all your kind words, i appreciate it so much. i'm SUPER sorry it took so long :( thank u for being patient w me! also yes as a libra i can confirm that costume parties are both leo and libra behaviors HAHA hope u enjoy!

you were probably the best thing that’s ever happened to eddie, if wayne munson was being honest.

how, he’s still the same eddie he always was – still driving way over the speed limit and smoking way too much – but now, he’s just, different. brighter. happier.

you’ve convinced him to eat vegetables, do his homework, and – fuck. you’ve got him sitting in a chair in the front lawn, towel draped on his shoulders, while you lightly trim the ends of his hair. of course, he’s bitching the enitre time, always trying to turn around to make sure you haven’t cut too much off, but you’re still doing it. that’s a miracle in itself.

still, wayne doesn’t think he could’ve ever expected to come home to the sight of eddie pacing in the kitchen, wearing a suit.

“ed?” he asked, walking through the front door. eddie spun around quickly, and he sighed at his nephew’s face.

his cheeks were red, his brows with pursed together, and his already large eyes were wide enough to plunge out of his skull.

“ed,” he said again, looking him up and down, “the hell are you doing?”

eddie groaned and put his face in his hands. “shit.” he said. “i look fuckin’ stupid, don’t i?”

“i never said that, it’s just …” wayne paused, trying to find the right words to say before giving up and sighing again, “eddie, what are you doing?”

“i’m going to prom,” he admitted.

“you,” wayne stared at him, “are going to prom?”

“yes!” he said. “i tryna find somethin’ to wear, but shit.”

wayne shook his head and smiled, occasionally spitting out a few chuckles while eddie gawked.

“what?” he asked.

“she’s got you wrapped around her finger.” he teased, evoking another groan from eddie.

“‘course she does.” he grumbled. “and this means a lot of her and i really need something nice to wear ‘cause i know she’s gonna spend a fortune on her dress and –”

“hey, ‘s alright.” wayne said, interrupting eddie’s premature spiralling. “we can go downtown this weekend and find somethin’ nice, it’s no problem.”

“i can’t.” he pouted. “i got the tickets today at lunch and now my wallet’s bone dry. and i’ve already gotta save up for a cor-sage and apparently those cost a fuckin’ arm and a leg.”

“corsage,” wayne corrected, which only bummed eddie out more. “and don’t worry about that, ‘s on me.”

“no.” eddie said. “i’m not asking you to do that. i can wear this, i just gotta make it look like it fits, ya’know?”

“you don’t gotta ask, ed.” wayne countered, pulling on the loose fabric on his shoulders. “this looks like shit, you can’t wear it.”

“it’s fine.” he said. “more than fine, actually. just gotta get it taken in.”

wayne examined him yet again, noticing some familiarity in the suit. “where’d you get this?”

“it was in dad’s unit.” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “figured it’d be my birthday present.” he joked, chuckling awkwardly.

wayne nodded, knowing exactly why the suit looked so familiar. “he wore this for the wedding.”

“oh.”

“we’ll go sunday afternoon. the thrift store off glenwood will have somethin’ in cheap for you.”

“i don’t –”

“ed.” wayne said, holding him by the shoulders. “the only reason i don’t have a suit to give you ‘cause i threw the only one i had out.” the one i bought for the wedding, he almost said.

eddie didn't say anything, so wayne continued.

“she tell you the color of her dress?”

eddie nodded. “yellow.”

“you’ll need a yellow tie.” he said. “you can’t wear a yellow tie with a black suit, you’ll look like a honey bee.”

“seriously?” eddie asked.

“yeah.” wayne said, patting him on the shoulder. “now go take that off and throw it in the trash while i’ll start dinner.”

“oh my god, eddie!” you said, looking him up and down on your front porch. his tie was definitely not the same shade of yellow as your dress, nor was he tied correctly, but the fact he even tried made your heart swell to triple it’s size. you began untangling the fabric as you continued cooing at him. “you look amazing, baby. absolutely amazing.”

eddie, however, couldn’t speak. he hates clichés, but his brain literally malfunctioned the second you opened the door in your dress. with your golden gown and diamond jewelry, you could’ve already pulled off being a real-life princess. but the dainty crown that sat on your head made his own feel genuinely dizzy.

you giggled as he stared at you. “you like it, eds?”

like an idiot, eddie just nodded and mumbled “wow.”

“quit bein’ dramatic.” you hit his shoulder, acting like you don’t love it when he pulls this act with you.

“i’m not, baby holy fuck.” he grabbed your waist, examining the skirt of the dress further. “you’re a fuckin’ princess.”

“well, yeah.” you said. “i’m nominated for queen, so technically i am.”

“that’s right.” eddie remembered. he let go of your waist and grabbed your hands. “if you don’t win i’m gonna pull a carrie, i’m serious.”

“shut up.” you blushed. “that’ll just support the crazy cultist rumor even more.”

“i love you.” eddie said, ignoring your protests. “my beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“shut up.” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “i love you.”

another a/n: i took a lot of creative liberties w this, tbh. i started writing it and then it turned into family angst and i wanted to lighten it up w a second part (bc for some reason i cannot for the life of me include actually romance scenes in rqs LOL). it was literally only supposed to be a couple paragraphs max but then it starting giving druig and makkari and i short circuted. so yeah, it's a little all over the place but that's what makes it fun ! i hope

#wc:900 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfic #ask #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x girly!reader #eddie munson request

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not-really-a-writer · 4 months

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Dating app advice (from my own personal experiences)

idk if it helps anyone, but if I am able to help some*ONE* out there, I think this post is worth it

Look for profiles WITH A BIO. They must write *something*. Make sure it's original and not copied ("looking for the Pam to my Jim") or snarky ("just tryna split a Costco membership"). Once you've sifted through a lot of profiles, you start to read the same things over and over. Guys who take the time to literally write something, anything, original are already demonstrating effort above the pack. Don't be dismissive of something simple. Even if it's 2 sentences but it's original, go for it ;)

Not every shirtless pic guy is an asshole. And not every 'sexy' girl is a bitch. Just don't make your looks your whole personality. Sure, if you're attractive (we are all attractive😊), show it off and expect others to show it off too. But don't make your entire profile overly revealing or else you will come across as if that is your one and only selling point. Use your pics to tell your personality as well. Take pics in front of your Funko Pop collection, movie posters, etc. or while doing your favorite activities (hiking, skiing, beach, cooking). And look for profiles who feature the same kind of mix. This is someone who put thought into displaying their personality and is probably more intentional about actually getting to know someone online instead of a one and done hookup.

Be forthcoming. Don't catfish or edit your photos. Be brave enough to post at least 1 photo of your real face/body sans makeup. Trust me, genuine guys do appreciate this kind of thing and it serves as a 'filter' of sorts to weed out all the superficial guys out there who only want a girl when she's all dolled up. When I was online dating, I wore ZERO makeup in half of my photos, and I made it a point to show my stretch marks on my belly in a crop top and I still got dates, so you can do it too.

Don't be judgmental. Don't like skinny guys? Give it a try at least once. People often appear Very differently irl than they do even in UNedited photos... so give it a chance. Also, if you're not into blondes, give it a try! Never dated outside your race? Try it! Don't be scared. Be open minded and push your boundaries with these kinds of harmless things. Don't like short guys? Let's be honest, if you're 5 feet tall, you don't "require" a 6' or taller guy... you just need to examine what in your own personality makes you need to feel small or with a big man and try to grow beyond that.

Have some confidence. This is a hard one, most esp for me. But it helps to find something about yourself and talk it up to yourself. If you have nice big boobs, then tell yourself every day that your rack looks smashin and take note that not everyone has nice big boobs. If you have nice small boobs, same thing! Not everyone has nice small boobs, etc. You don't even have to compare yourself to others, it's more about being thankful for something that you have that others don't have. It's learning to be thankful for being uniquely who you are because nobody has the exact combination of traits that you do.

Make the first move. As a heterosexual woman, it's outside the norm for us to make the first move but guys love it bc it's refreshing to them. You will start many conversations that go nowhere but this is normal. Chances are, just making the first move already gives you an advantage over those who just sit back and wait for the others to message first. Genuine guys will notice and appreciate this.

Don't waste your time. You will find there are many online who are just there for the likes, small talk, and conversation and have ZERO intentions of meeting. After breaking the ice and some initial conversations, ask direct questions to determine what someone's intentions are. Most people, if serious, are willing to meet in person within 1-2 weeks of talking. You'll have to find that sweet spot and timeline for yourself, but anything too soon is a red flag IMO, and certainly anything beyond 2 weeks is a time waster. In my opinion, I like talking for at least 3 days before meeting up. If we're texting regularly and talking for about a week or so and they still don't want to meet up....? Seems suspicious to me (scheduling conflicts aside). In certain circumstances I think meeting up in person off the bat can be nice but if they can't hold a conversation over phone or text for a few days then what makes you think you can talk in person? lol, you don't need to sit through any more awkward coffee dates than you have to. Get all the small talk out of the way first, then your first 'date,' should you decide to meet in person, may go better.

That's all I can think of now. Wear condoms, even for oral sex. Get STD/STI tested before you stop using them. Happy dating and best of luck to you all.

#modern dating #single life #dating #dating apps #dating advice

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severelytalentless · 3 years

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Chemistry Part 3

FlirtyFuckboy!Gojo x VirginLabPartner!Reader x Badboy!Geto

A/N: I'm having way too much fun with this..

TW/CW: sexual scenarios & strong language, alcohol intoxication, suggestive material

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Kiss me more - doja cat + sza)

“Gojo please, I'm gonna be late for History!” you try to scold him through a giggle. It's the third time this week that he's grabbed you after class and pulled you back into the chem lab by your waistband. He tugs at your skirt and gropes your tits, growling into your neck, making you squeal.

He's such a horny bastard for you.

“It's your fault for teasing me with this sexy little outfit.” he lifts you onto the nearest lab bench, “you get what you deserve..” his hands slide up your thighs and under your skirt and he thumbs your clit, still living to pull these sweet sounds you make for him. A little moan slips through your grin and you run your fingers up the back of his neck, pulling him in to kiss you.

How can you resist?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were both surprised by your passing grade on the midterm lab since all of your study sessions have ended in hickeys down your neck and scratch marks up his back.

You two had been fucking on an almost daily basis for weeks now, driving each other completely crazy.

Both of you decided to keep this fling from the public, knowing that a serious relationship was totally out of the question. He has strict commitment issues and you have a reputation to uphold.

However, you’re starting to notice some suspiciously jealous looks thrown at you by girls that you'd seen Gojo hang around with in the past. He mustn't be paying them as much attention these days.

Maybe your late-night meetings around campus haven’t been as private as you had thought.

Maybe the flirty passing glances in the halls are a little too obvious.

Maybe it's the way he shamelessly undresses you with his eyes the moment you pass through the door of the classroom, watching you like a hawk all the way to your seat.

Or perhaps, it's the lollipops you've started rolling around in your mouth in chem lab, just to tease him.

Whatever the reason for their suspicions, neither of you has any plans to end the fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Have you ever been to a party?” he asks in the middle of your makeout sesh. Not unusual for Gojo to interrupt the moment with some random thought. You raise an eyebrow.

“I don't do parties.” you quickly dive back into his mouth to try and shut him up. He breaks away and grips your hips, furrowing his brows at you.

“Come on bunny.” he pulls out the pet name. You giggle and shake your head at his pathetic pouty lips.

“Parties are nothing but trouble.”

“Exactly.” the dirty little smirk pecks you on the cheek. Your eyes firmly tell him no, but he persists.

“Well, you don't have a choice, this one is different.”

“How's that?” Your eyebrow arches again. He shifts his shades down his nose, flashing you those million-dollar baby blues.

“Because I'm gonna be there." you roll your eyes as the clown winks at you.

"Bunny pleeeease!!" he throws his head back and whines. You push him back and hop down off the counter, straightening your skirt.

"Toru, I just don't think it's a good idea. Everyone will know something is up." You swing your bag back over your shoulder and make for the exit but he beats you to it and leans in the doorway.

"Other than my dick for you?" he licks his lips and bites his smirk, "I promise I'll keep it in my pants.." you fail to hide the smile that cracks into the corner of your mouth. You're one thousand percent sure you would find his fingers crossed behind his back if you checked right now. You let out a heavy sigh and squint at him.

"When?" His eyes light up. He's got you now.

"Tonight. 10. My place." You push past him and saunter down the hall to your next class.

God, he loves to watch you walk away.

"Wear something hot!" He calls after you, eyes glued to your ass. You spin around and bite your smile at him.

Yeah, he got you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(never be like you - flume)

You make it through the door right as the bell rings and rush to find an empty seat in the back.

Damn it...what am I gonna wear?!

You mentally flip through all the clothes in your closet, munching on the end of your pen. You pull your notebook from your bag and the pen falls from your lips, tapping to the floor. A foreign hand picks it up before you can reach.

Suguru Getou sits down beside you. You watch him twirl your pen through his fingers.

You've never formally met Getou. You forgot you both take History 310. All you know he's friends with Gojo. Other than that, he's a bit of a mysterious character in your book. Sure, he pals around with the rowdy boys in your year, but his aura isn't nearly as chaotic as theirs. You have always had a hard time getting a read on him. To be honest, you don't quite understand how he and Gojo get along so well. He seems like a completely different breed.

You're caught off guard when his mouth pulls into a subtle smirk, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. An unexpected blush smacks your cheeks and you shift in your seat. You've been looking at him too long. You quickly clear your throat.

"That's my pen.." the statement comes out like a question.

He leans forward over his elbows on the table and taps the pen on your notebook, then lays it down. You could swear you just saw his eyes flick down at your lips, and your breath catches in your throat.

"Thank you." You turn away quickly and huff out your breath, situating yourself to focus on the lecture. But you feel his gaze lingering on you, buzzing your nerves. You glance sideways and connect with his eyes. Your stomach flinches.

You dive into your notebook to busy yourself and try to shake this feeling. He leans back in his seat, turning his attention to the lecture, leaving you alone for the rest of class. His smirk doesn’t fade as quickly as you feel it should.

The bell rings and everyone starts rustling to pack up. You turn to put your notebook away, and Getou is already leaning down next to you to do the same. You hold your breath. His face is right beside yours.

“I like your perfume..” your pulse spikes.

He zips his bag and pushes back his chair, leaving you frozen, staring up at him like a deer in the headlights. Your mind fumbles for a response but he’s already walking toward the door. Heat prickles your cheeks again and you exhale heavily. He glances back at you just before he disappears through the doorway.

What the fuck was that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(mother's daughter - wuki remix)

“She’s here..”

Getou nudges Gojo and nods toward the door. Gojo glances over his shoulder and double-takes, almost spilling the shot he's pouring.

“Oh fuck...” Gojo's glasses slide down his nose.

You look good, too good.

The outfit you chose hugs you tight in all the right places. Both men watch you sidle in and plant yourself against the nearest wall, like the flower that you are. You clutch the strap of your purse and the bottle you brought along with you.

You scan the darkened smokey room, making eye contact with lots of somewhat familiar faces, but none that you are well enough acquainted with to greet. Your stomach turns.

Shit, you should have dragged a friend along with you. You immediately start to regret coming to this.

"Hey little bunny..come here often?" Gojo appears next to you, leaning on the wall, beaming down at you with his hands full of shots. You let out a little sigh of relief and nervously shove the bottle toward him.

"Here, I brought you this." he chuckles at your stiffness.

"Thanks, right back at you." he shrugs and lifts up the alcohol he's already holding. He sees your eyes widen and laughs again.

"Come on, let's put that down for later." He turns and swoops an arm around you, leading you to the kitchen.

You relax a little more in the shelter of the kitchen, away from so many staring eyes. Gojo sets down the shots, placing one in front of you, and takes the bottle from your hands.

"Oooh, good choice babe, I love this stuff." He examines the handle, then shoots you a mischievous glare, "Are you tryna to get me drunk?" You smile back and lean your hip on the counter, crossing your arms.

“Maybe a little..” he loves this naughty look your giving him.

“I’m game, but you need to catch up,” he slides the shot closer, “bottoms up.” He lifts his own and waits for you.

Here goes nothing

You knock it back and it goes down with much less of a fight than you expected. You set the empty glass down and there’s another shot waiting in its place.

“Good girl..” Gojo lifts the next shot, he eyes you like you’re made of candy, “this is gonna be fun..”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(killshot - megdelena bay)

Your face feels fuzzy. How many shots is that? Four..five? Who cares. This is fun. He looks hot with his shirt unbuttoned like that. Mmm kinda wanna kiss him..kinda wanna fuck him on the counter.

“You look really hot in this..” he hooks his finger into your neckline and pulls you to him, hand catching the curve of your waist. You purr and bite your lip.

"Just doing as I was told.."

You feel warm and loose and the bass from the speakers in the other room is humming through your chest. You’ve been drunk a couple of times before at sleepovers with your girlfriends, but this is so much more exciting.

“Ooh, I wanna try this..” you reach for the unopened bottle you brought. He hums in your ear.

“Easy tiger, we want you wobbly, not stumbling..”

We?

He slides it further away and catches your face in his hand, turning you to kiss him. It quickly takes your mind off the bottle you wanted.

“Let’s go fuck..” he grits his teeth at your lusty words. The shots have made you horny and impatient. He chuckles and glances behind you.

“Maybe later, I wanna introduce you to someone..” he nods for you to turn around and holds you in place by your hips, resting his chin on your shoulder.

Your heart jumps and you feel the alcohol push deeper into your system. Suguru Getou is leaning in the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(pretty little fears - 6lack + j. cole)

Wow

He’s all kinds of sexy. You’ve never really noticed it before. 100% tall dark and handsome, lazy smile on his lips, lollipop stick tucked into the corner. He tilts his head and appraises your body with slow eyes. If it weren’t for the shots, you know you’d be a nervous mess under his gaze right now. The alcohol props up your confidence and seeps through your bloodstream.

“Hi handsome..” the bold greeting hops off your tongue before you can stop it. Not that you're sorry you said it. You hear Gojo huff a surprised laugh by your ear. Getou’s grin widens and he strides in from the doorway.

“Is this guy bothering you, miss?” Getou’s low voice teases as he glances at Gojo on your shoulder.

“Terribly..” you jest back cooly.

“Oh! I see how it is..” Gojo hums against your neck and squeezes your hips.

“Suguru Getou...History 301, right?” he extends his large hand and you take it.

“And chem lab..Y/N L/N..nice to finally meet you...” his thumb strokes across your knuckles. He’s got a dark quiet confidence about him, you’re so into it. A thick tension hangs between you. His fault for starting it in History today.

“My pleasure...can I get you a drink?” His eyes don’t leave yours as he pulls the bottle back over and unscrews the top in one smooth motion.

“She’s had quite a few already, might wanna slow down..” Gojo shifts behind you. The two men exchange a quick glance. You shoo him off your shoulder, still staring at Getou.

“One more won’t hurt..” you watch his eyes narrow and flick down to your lips, just like they did in class. His attention is rubbing you just the right way. Getou looks back at Gojo and nods to you, cocking an eyebrow.

"I like her.." Getou's words pour more excitement into your gut that quickly mixes with the alcohol that's already there. He then pours three shots and deals them out.

"Told you she's feisty.." Gojo brushes your hair behind your ear. Standing so close between their tall solid bodies is making you hot.

"He's told me a lot about you, bunny.." Your breath catches and the shot pauses against your lips. The way your pet name just rolled off his tongue was ridiculously sexy.

He's pleased with the blush that rushed your cheeks. Gojo's finger tips the shot up, spilling the liquid into your open mouth, scorching your tongue.

"Cheers.." he and Getou tap glasses and exchange a knowing glance over your head before downing their shots. You cough a little at the burn of the alcohol. This stuff is way stronger than what Gojo gave you before. It makes your eyes water. The boys chuckle and Gojo rubs your back.

"Well done, babe." he turns your chin and gives you an encouraging peck. He looks over at Getou.

"Here, he said you like these.." You turn and he pops his sucker into your mouth. Cherry flavored.

Your mind flashes back to the library and you're suddenly aware of how wet your panties are. Chills wash down your body when Getou's hand skims across your lower back under Gojo's. You're too tipsy to be nervous about the contact.

"You should see what else she can do with that mouth.." Gojo takes your empty glass. Getou hums.

"Maybe we should work on this bottle upstairs.." Getou looks down at you, twirling a piece of your hair in his fingers. A surge of adrenaline floods through you when his proposition registers.

"What d'you say, bunny?" Gojo grabs at your ass. Getou runs his hand under your hair across the back of your neck. They watch you pull in a deep breath and close your eyes.

Fuck fuck fuck

Alarm bells are blaring in your head, but the 90 proof that just hit your veins is turning down the volume. The way their big strong hands feel touching on your body is quickly teasing out the bad girl in you. All this attention stroking your ego, pushing heat down into your core.

The poor sweet angel on your shoulder is trying to warn you that the thrill you're feeling isn't safe, but the devil on the other already knows you're gonna go with it.

You grab the bottle and back away from them towards the door. The look on your face has both their cocks throbbing. You tilt your head and smirk, leaning against the doorframe.

"Which way, boys?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued..

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santiagogarcia · 3 years

Text

cold hands, warm heart

Pairing: Llewyn Davis x fem!Reader

Summary: Llewyn's cold and wet and he doesn't have a place to stay for the night, so you bring him inside. As one does.

Rating: E/M (18+)

Content warnings: explicit sexual content (unprotected p in v sex), recreational drug use (pot), strong language, reader has a broken foot, modern setting

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: This was my contribution for @sergeantkane’s Oscar Fandom (Valentine’s) Fic Exchange back in February. But since I was on a health-related hiatus, it got published on AO3. I’m finally posting it here. Obligatory: I’m more gifmaker than writer, English isn’t my first language, and my spelling is a wildly inconsistent combination of British and American.

For @wasicskosgirl

A flurry of pain-induced curses rises from two floors below and you peer down through the fire escape grille. A man, poorly dressed for the weather, with a headful of drizzle-softened Roman curls and a guitar case, nurses the stinging fingers of his right hand. They’ve narrowly escaped being amputated by the Allen’s heavy, faulty sash window. Yeah, Marty’s been meaning to ask the super to fix that.

“Hey,” you call down, your breath misting the frigid mid-February air, “you okay?”

He blinks up through snowflakes floating down like cherry blossom petals. “I guess?” He kneads his wounded fingers into the palm of his left hand. “Just so you know, I’m not breaking and entering. You don’t need to call the cops or anything.”

You know. You recognised him immediately. “It’s Llewyn, right?”

A frown knits his brows. Warily, he asks, “Do I know you?”

“Not really. I see you come and go every other week, though. Marty and Sue must really like you.”

“Like is a strong word," he says, with a snort. "I think they just have a high tolerance for my bullshit.”

Your baked laugh—too loud and girlish—echoes in the narrow alley. “Can you get in?”

He shakes his head. “Latch’s caught. Looks like I’m locked out.”

“They leave you a key?”

“They’re not that tolerant.”

It's not like you're shouting, but your voices carry in the close air and neighbours are already yelling at you to shut up. You laugh it off and wave Llewyn up to your floor.

He gives the window to the Allen’s apartment a forlorn, longing look—as if he just blew through Plans A through Z for the evening—and trundles up the rattling steel steps. His nose twitches when he gets to your platform and sees you wrapped up in an old comforter like a human burrito, nursing a hand-rolled joint. “That what I think it is?”

“It’s medicinal,” you say, innocently, nodding at the orthopaedic boot encasing your fractured foot and offer him the spliff.

He hesitates, like it’s some kind of trap, then shrugs out a ‘why not’ and sits beside you. “Llewyn Davis.” He offers you his hand, fingers poking out of frayed gloves.

You give them a cursory examination. “I don’t think there’s any permanent damage. Always hurts more when it's cold.” But, just in case, you don’t let go of his hand, incubating it between your gloves.

“That your professional medical opinion, Doctor…?”

He’s fishing for a name, which disappoints you, because you thought he'd remember. Most men remember the girl they get punched in the face over. “Dancer, not doctor," you correct, hoping it will jog his memory.

He glances at the boot. “Someone tell you to break a leg and you took them literally?”

“Funny. When you’re the wrong side of twenty-five old injuries start to add up.” You don’t want to embarrass yourself with the truth: that you tripped over your own feet.

Llewyn dips his chin into his scarf and wraps his free arm around his legs, prompting you to share your comforter. He huddles gratefully beneath it and you can feel the damp through your parka. “What happened to your coat?”

“I’m between coats right now. It’s—” He passes you the joint and tries a name on you that almost offends you. “Right?”

“Not even close. You really don’t remember me at all, do you?” Were you really that forgettable?

“Nonono—you're the pretty girl at the Allen’s New Year’s Eve party.”

You roll your eyes. That was almost smooth, except there were a lot of pretty girls at that party.

“Waitwaitwait, it’s—” His second guess is so close you decide to finally tell him who you are. A smile of recognition and realisation dawns on his face. “Yeah, that's it. I remember your boyfriend, too. Kind of a jerk, as I recall.”

“So were you,” you point out and Llewyn doesn’t disagree with you.

“I was kind of a sorry mess that night. I wouldn’t’ve hit on you if I’d known you were with someone. Your boyfriend gonna come out here and punch me for talking to you again?”

“I’m between boyfriends right now. And if it’s any consolation you were right about him: he was kind of a jerk.” But you don’t want to ruin your high by discussing your ex. You nod at the guitar case at Llewyn’s feet. “I’ve seen you perform a couple of times.”

“Yeah?”

“At Arliss and that place on West Twenty-Sixth—”

“The Owl Bar?”

“What a weird place.”

“I know, right? It’s almost creepy.” He steals a glance at you, looks away so you don't accuse him of staring. “Would I have seen you on, I dunno, like Broadway or something?”

“I was never that good of a dancer. I teach four-to-seven-year-olds the basics of ballet over at the Academy.” The snow’s coming down fast and heavy now and you brush the flakes crowning Llewyn’s curls. “Think we’d better get inside. You know if you don’t have a Plan B, you can stay here tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll figure something out.”

“Now?” It’s after midnight. “Llewyn,” you reason with him as he helps you to your feet, “unless you’re planning to murder me, my roommate and her cousin, it’s fine. Really.”

“You got a couch I can sleep on?”

“Couch is taken." You explain your roommate’s cousin has an audition at Julliard in the morning. Llewyn starts to say something about the floor being fine, but you cut him off. “You can sleep with me.” Shit, that came out wrong. “In my room I mean.”

◻️

It feels like you’re back in high school even though you’re a grown-ass woman and neither your roommate nor her snoring cousin would have any objections to you bringing someone home. You usher Llewyn into your cosy lamp-lit room and tell him to remove his clothes.

He blinks at you with lashes so stupidly long and thick you’re sure they brush his cheeks. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t mean all of them. Jesus. I’m gonna lay them over by the radiator, dry them out.” You grip a fistful of his sleeve. “I don’t know how many blocks you walked in the rain, but you’ll be lucky if you don’t catch a cold, or worse.”

Timidly, Llewyn shrugs the corduroy jacket off his shoulders. You won't understand until much later that it’s not being stripped down to his underwear that embarrasses him—he's not shy in that way. It’s your kindness. It’s unfamiliar to him; something he’s unaccustomed to navigating. While you hobble out to the living room as quietly as possible, he sits tentatively on the edge of the bed, figuring you’ll throw him a spare pillow and a blanket for the floor. So when you return and tell him he’s welcome to share your bed, he’s even more awkward and out of his depth. The floor is an option—whatever he’s more comfortable with (you make sure he knows that)—but you seem so comfortable and unbothered by his presence that he decides to take you up on your offer.

And it's not like either of you plan to have sex or that it even crossed your minds (well, maybe a little). It sort of just happens; born of an unspoken need that you both share, and it starts when Llewyn shifts restlessly and his hand brushes the skin at the small of your back where your tank top has ridden up.

“Jesus!” You stiffen beneath the duvet.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I wasn’t tryna cop a feel, all right?”

“It’s not that—Are your hands always that cold?” It feels like someone backed you against an icicle.

“I can put the gloves back on…”

But he doesn't need to do that. You reach behind you for his arm and wrap it around you, lacing your fingers through his and your body heat slowly does the trick.

“Better?” His breath warms the back of your neck and he shifts to close the space between the two of you.

“A little.” You squirm and clamp your thighs together to stem the first prickle of the heat that’s begun to throb between your legs—involuntarily pressing the curve of your ass into Llewyn’s crotch. He responds receptively, even before an apology has formulated in your brain.

“Can I touch you?” His voice is husky, filled with the gentle promise of sex and you’re immediately intoxicated by it. If you’re really honest with yourself, your attraction to Llewyn was instantaneous; you’ve wanted him since that New Year’s Eve party. You think you might have left with him if your dickhead of a boyfriend hadn’t made a scene and Llewyn hadn’t escalated things.

In answer you guide his hand down beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms and inside your underwear. Llewyn pushes into the V between your thighs to palm your cunt and you roll onto your back, hoisting your hips and ass to get your PJs and underwear down over your thighs. He thumbs your clit with skill and attentiveness, as if he were strumming at the strings on his guitar. The appreciative moan that escapes you is muffled as his mouth meets yours. Tonguing at the seem of your lips, he plunges a probing middle finger inside you. Blindly, you feel for Llewyn's boxers and tug them down over the swell of his ass until his arousal bobs free and you’re both half-naked.

“Fuck,” you hiss as he slides a second finger, knuckle-deep, inside your pussy. With one hand threading through his thick dark still-damp curls, the other takes his length and begins to stroke him.

“You want me inside you, dove?”

“Yes.” Fuck yes. You know he’s just as eager for you when he begins thrusting into your palm.

Llewyn withdraws his fingers to help both of you out of your remaining clothing and then grips the base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance. Your petulant whine at his aching, teasing slowness is swallowed by a gasp when he finally pushes inside your heat. With a curse of tortured ecstacy, he fills you, his breath hot and damp against your skin. For an agonising moment that stretches unbearably, he stills—to let you adjust to him, to appreciate the delicious fullness—until you half plead, half order him to move. Llewyn doesn’t need to be told twice, rocking into you with shallow, measured thrusts that build to a feral crescendo; rough, hurried, balls-deep and cervix-bruising. He tells you how good you feel, how warm and wet and soft you are and your pussy clenches around him as if to draw him deeper, wanting him to hollow you out.

“Can I cum in you?” He’s close to his climax, breathing heavily.

You tilt your head to nod against his shoulder and moments later Llewyn loses himself inside you with a cascading, half-choked moan of release. The pulsing knot at your core unravels, the walls of your cunt spasming to send warmth and eye-fluttering shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body. He fucks you through your orgasm, his pace slow and languid and sensual until you come down and he softens, his cum-smeared and pussy-slicked cock slipping out of you.

Llewyn shifts to your side, pillowing his head in the crook of your neck, arm slung across your breasts. Your bodies are sheened with cooling sweat and you pull the covers up over you before fisting your hand into his locks. A trembling sigh escapes him and his grip tightens around you, holding onto you like a drowning man hanging onto a buoy. Your bladder feels uncomfortably full and your cast-encased foot itches like a motherfucker but you don’t move. You don't let go of Llewyn Davis, either.

◻️

“You know I’m playing at The Small Blues Club tonight,” he tells you at the door, whispering because the Julliard cousin is still fast asleep on the couch.

“I did not know that,” you say.

“It’s over on Bleecker. You could come…if you wanted—that is, if you’re not doing anything. I don’t know what your plans are…if you have plans.” He rambles uncertainly. In the snowed-in, washed-out watercolour dawn there’s something diffident and a little standoffish about him; as if he knows the light exposes him for what he really is: a struggling musician trapped in a Kafkaesque existence, the future bleak as the New York skyline in winter. Probably not something a pretty ballet teacher with an apartment and a good credit score would be interested in. “Maybe I could buy you a drink afterwards? I know I’m kind of doing things ass-backwards but I'd really like to see you again. Last night wasn't just—”

“On Bleecker?” You rescue him from himself. He’s so wrong about you: you are interested. “What time should I be there?”

Llewyn scratches his forehead like you've surprised him with a complex math problem. “Any time after seven?” Like it's no big deal; trying to conceal his excitement the way people who are used to being disappointed often do. “That mean you’ll be there?”

“It’s not a date,” you warn, in your most serious teacher-voice.

“Oh, no,” he agrees, nodding along earnestly, “definitely not that.” It's his eyes that give that give him away: big and brown and puppyish, and smiling.

You both know it definitely is.

#llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #llewyn davis x you #18+#*mine #*#*my fic

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msjr0119 · 3 years

Text

Birthday One Shot

A/N1: So it’s my girls birthday today. My favourite drunk partner. Hope you have had a fabulous day @drakexwillow !!! I can’t wait to have an alcoholic drink with you and fall asleep again 😆

A/N2: Some of the dialogue used was actually texts between us. I’ve rushed this as I’ve been busy passing out all weekend - bypass any stupid grammar mistakes 🤣

A/N3: Thank you to your other half, ‘Beany’ for helping me out with some things- I hope he didn’t spoil it for you ❤️👍🏼

Book: The Royal Romance (A/U)

Pairing: Drake Walker (Michiel Huisman) x Willow Downing (Jessica Lowndes)

Song inspirations:

Gun Machine Kelly- Drunk Face

Gun Machine Kelly- Hangover Cure

Mood- 24kGoldn and Ian Dior

Warnings: Adult language, mention of sex, mention of being drunk.

Tags: Thinking of those who like Drake x MC especially Willow- don’t feel obliged to read if you don’t want to 😊

@drakexwillow @burnsoslow @axwalker @annekebbphotography @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @bascmve01 @yukinagato2012 @lodberg @cordonianroyalty @texaskitten30 @nomadics-stuff

****

Drake Walker had been dating Willow Downing for many years now. Every birthday that came around he always struggled with new ideas about what to do for the love of his life. At times he was tempted to ask for advise from his closest friends Maxwell and Sophie- however, if he did that he knew that it would just end in a disaster. A big drunken mess. He would usually impersonate a babysitter for the three of them, especially Willow. Thinking back to past birthdays, she wasn’t a bad drunk. Or was she? There had been times when she would get the ‘munchies’- gather food everywhere then not clean up after herself. Rice. That was the worse time for this common food reoccurrence. If it wasn’t the issue of food, there was the spilt drinks residue surrounding the place instead. Which Drake had to clean up. One of the worse ‘Willow moments’ since they had began dating had been when she vomited in their bed- and all down herself, Drake had turned into a domesticated goddess for the night. Stripping the bed, before assisting her in the shower. Oh, then there was the time when Maxwell and Willow had gotten matching tattoos of a peacock with the words ‘House Beaumont Rules’ sprawled underneath it. That night was karma in Drake’s eyes. Regardless of her drunk past antics, he loved her with all of his heart and wouldn’t change it for anything. She was the one.

****

🎶Why you always in a mood?

Fuckin' 'round, actin' brand new

I ain't tryna tell you what to do

But try to play it cool

Baby, I ain't playing by your rules

Everything look better with a view🎶

“I’m not in a mood!” Drake defended himself- as his other half entered the kitchen singing. Yes, he was known to be the moody one. The one that always wore a scowl. But for once he wasn’t ‘in a mood’. Not for now anyway.

“Sometimes you are. But no, it’s a song. You really need to get down with the kids Drake and watch TikTok.” Snuggling behind him, it was the best option as she knew exactly what his expression would be like. Hearing a heavy sigh escape from him- soon she felt him relax, both feeling content.

Fucking TikTok. He muttered to himself. The social media app had become his worse nightmare recently. When they laid in bed on a night, she would promise him that she was only watching it for five minutes. That five minutes soon turned into an hour, which then elaborated into sometimes three or four hours. By that time he had fallen asleep. No intimacy. It’s a phase- she will soon get bored. Again, he wouldn’t change his relationship with her.

****

Later on that night after they had eaten, Drake had put one of Willow’s favourite TV series on. Usually she would be ‘glued’ to it- no matter how many times she had seen this specific episode.

“I thought that you’d want to watch The Office? But instead you’re just listening to that garbage. Can’t we just have one night with no TikTok or listening to him?” After his original snappy attitude, that turned eventually into a plead- Drake attempted to make eye contact with her. Knowing full well that she wasn’t fully listening to him.

“But, he’s amazing. Gorgeous. Sexy.....” Swooning deep down inside as she expressed this, Willow eventually locked eyes with a now pissed off boyfriend. Before TikTok became a ‘thing’, she was in a similar situation whenever a new game for the PlayStation was released. Karma at its best.

“Obviously not as sexy as you though Mr Walker.” Attempting to redeem her previous words, Drake responded with only an eye roll. Maybe she was slightly addicted to Machine Gun Kelly and TikTok. In all honesty, lockdown was to blame for this ‘addiction’. Being stuck in the house. With nothing to do. Well, there was other things to do. Most time spent to begin with was the two of them entangled in each other.

“I’m sorry, Drake. Allow me to listen to one song, then we will watch this- no phones. Just Drillow time.” A smile finally crept upon his face. Finally she was cooperating with him in his mind.

“Sounds like a good deal. Which song are you going to choose?” He asked, not that he was bothered or interested. Just eager to spend time without any distractions.

“I like too many songs- I’ll try and pick a favourite...’Drunk face’. It’s off his new album. ‘Hangover cure’ is also a good one by him.” I bet it is.

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t listened to it.” Faking a sincere yet interested tone of voice, Willow was still debating which song to hum and listen along too. Just hurry up and chose one.

“I can’t believe he’s with Megan Fox and he keeps using her in his music videos it’s so cute.” Getting easily distracted again, Drake bit his lip as she did this in a silent frustration.

“I thought that Megan Fox was still with Brian Austin what’s his face?” Surprisingly, he wasn’t aware of their unexpected split when it was breaking news in the show business world.

“No they split up the start of the year I think it was....I didn’t think they’d look that cute together and pictures of them together he towers over her and it makes them look adorable.” Like us, Drake compared the celebrity couple to themselves as he always towered over a ‘shorter’ Willow.

🎶Wake up, still drunk from last night

The first dates are always uncomfortable

Stayed up, I couldn't sleep last night

I'll admit, I'm a little dysfunctional

Are you okay with the fact I'm a little off track, to be honest

I've been through relationships, I've never been in love, but I want this 🎶

“Anyway, let’s finish watching this before my birthday tomorrow.” Finally placing her phone out of reach, Drake couldn’t quite believe that she had detached herself from it. Almost hallucinating due to the fact.

****

The two of them didn’t quite finish watching the episode. One thing led to another. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, before Drake had carried Willow bridal style to their bedroom. The rest of the night was bliss, an early gift for the birthday girl. Walker style.

Knowing that it was now officially her birthday, she snuggled into the soft warm sheets with a content feeling. Subconsciously she had dreamt about how Drake would make her day special. As he always did. Rolling over, there was no sign of him. Blinking her eyes she believed that she could possibly still be half asleep- that was until the realisation of the sun peeping through the cracks of the blinds. Forcing herself out of bed, she searched the house for Drake with no avail. Wondering what he was upto, she put those thoughts to the side for now and got ready for the day. Her day. A day that she had planned to be filled with fun and laughter with the people closest to her. He will be back before I’m finished.

An hour later, the wanderer still hadn’t returned. Willow had become slight panic stricken before the banging on the door distracted her pondering any further.

“Happy birthday!” The two friends shouted enthusiastically before pulling her in for a group hug. A hug that could have potentially suffocated her. “Where’s Drake?”

“I... I don’t know. It’s not like him to leave without saying goodbye at least, Soph.”

“Well it’s eleven o’clock. Never too early for a birthday cocktail. It’s the evening somewhere in the world. Maxwell sort the birthday girl out with a drink.”

“Yes ma’am. Come on, Lo.” Sophie watched the two of them disappear out of sight before dialling the number on her phone.

“Drake. Where are you?”

“I’m just getting Lo a present, I’ll be back soon Soph. I promise.”

“A present? How long have you been together? You should be more prepared Drake! You know it’s her birthday. This is not the time to go awol, Walker. Or at least explain to her where you are going!”

“Sophie, just please.... just distract her with some shit off of TikTok. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

An hour or so later after Sophie’s and Drake’s brief conversation- there was a quiet knock at the door, which made them all question who it could be. They had arranged to have a quiet time together as a foursome. Threesome at the moment. As far as they was concerned in the morning; the three of them didn’t want to wake up still drunk from last night. They were still young, wasting their youth. Promising to grow up next summer. They didn’t want Drake to always be in a mood.

“You girls carry on drinking, I’ll get the door.” Maxwell suggested as he leapt off of the bar stool.

“May I help you?” Maxwell questioned as he peered through the peep hole with one eye shut and the other attempting to examine the mystery person. In all honesty, it didn’t help that he was already slightly tipsy. He would be useless as an eye witness.

“It’s me you idiot! Are you going to open MY door?”

“You sound like Drake, but you don’t look like him. How do I not know that you’re here to rob us by impersonating my bestie?”

“One. Do you think that I’d dress like this if I was going to rob you? Two... you are not my bestie Beaumont!”

“Wow! You’re really good at this whole Drake Walker act.”

“Just fucking let me in Maxwell, before I throttle you!”

“How much is Drake paying you? He would actually say something like that to me... okay, I’ll ask you a couple of questions. If you get them right you can come in Drake.” Empathising the name, Maxwell still wasn’t convinced that it really was Drake. His drunk mind wondered why he wouldn’t just use his key and allow himself in.

“What’s my middle name?”

“Percival.”

“Lucky guess. What’s my peacocks name back home?”

“Petunia. Now get the chain off and let me in!” Oh that’s why he couldn’t get in. I forgot that I put the chain on when me and Sophie first arrived. Doh! Safety first!

“Drake it is you!” No shit Sherlock. “You look a complete knobhead by the way. Welcome to Chateau A La Walker.”

“Leave the French talking to someone who can actually express the language, Max.”

“Colson?” Drake sighed looking at Willow. Knowing how ridiculous this whole situation was. “Drake?”

“Tonight Matthew I’m going to be Colson Baker- Machine Gun Kelly. I’ve even got some nail varnish so you can do what Megan does to him in that music video. I’ve got red, pink, purple, black........”

“Drake... I like him and his music. But I love you. I love you for you... why are you doing this?”

“Do you love me more than him and TikTok?” Now that is a predicament to be in. Hmmm...

“Of course I do, you idiot.”

“Thank fuck for that! This wig was itching me too much.” Relieved to finally take it off, he flung it onto the floor- not caring how much it had cost him to recreate somebody else’s look.

“You don’t suit blonde hair anyway. These tattoos are so realistic.” Willow smiled softly towards him.

“Erm....”

“Erm?”

“Well... the reason... that... they look so realistic.....”

“Oh my god you didn’t!”

“Well these ones are just stick on ones. I did have one done this morning- hence why I’m late. I’m sorry.”

“I NEED TO SEE THIS!”

“You will later..... I promise.”

“He’s probably had it done on his arsehole or something? Can’t be as bad as Maxwell’s ‘Turn Back Now’ Pennywise balloon tattoo above his ass.” Sophie suggested and explained with an oblivious Maxwell not understanding why suddenly he was the clown of the group. Drake couldn’t help but blush thinking about his surprise tattoo, in his mind it was ridiculous- he had regretted it as soon as it had began.

“Drake? Are you going to show me? It is my birthday after all...” Fluttering her eyelashes, he was done for. Simple gestures such as these turned him into a big ball of mush.

“Follow me to the bathroom. I’ll show you....” Stripping off out of the ‘rapper’ clothes that he had borrowed to complete his MGK look- he wrapped a towel around him in a flash. Not wanting to spoil the surprise immediately.

“So... don’t laugh, Lo. On the count of three- okay?” She couldn’t contain her excitment, being too eager and intrigued about the tattoo- she quickly whipped the towel away.

“Oh my god. You had a tattoo in honour of me.... Don’t you ever, criticise me for getting a tattoo. The peacock one- I was drunk. You had no excuse to get this. I might actually cry- with laughter. I love you, Drake Walker. Best birthday present EVER! I’ll get us both a drink. Come back into the kitchen when you’re ready.”

Not so little Walker- property of Willow ⬇️

Those words would now be permanently written across his pubic bone. Yes, it would be humiliating if anybody other than Willow found out the true extent of this tattoo. But what would be more embarrassing was if she was to reject his second surprise of the day now her name was on him for life.

#choices trr #theroyalromance #the Royal Romance a/u #drake walker #michiel huisman #drake walker x mc #drake x Willow #drakexwillow #birthday girl #birthday one shot #tw adult language #tw mention of sex #tw drunk #maxwell beaumont #oc Sophie #Maxwell x Sophie

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rootedinfaith · 3 years

Text

Okayyyyy it’s time to admit a bunch of things about myself that I like to think are longer defining parts of my personality but they STILL ARE:

I am absolutely terrified of being left, deserted, abandoned. So much so that I would rather leave everyone and everything and blame my departure on something they did a long time ago that simply ~forced my hand~ into leaving than just admit that I feel insecure or need reassurance or am just scared

I would rather saw off my own arm than look (or feel) like an idiot in front of anyone, for any reason, ever

I do not believe that intensely difficult emotions are survivable and I do anything I can to avoid them

Conversely, I am filled with dread and despair when I experience positive emotions because I am afraid of their ephemeral nature. When they are gone there is only emptiness or difficult emotions and, as I said, I can’t deal with that shit

I try to know a lot of things but I do not have a steel trap brain for every piece of information I encounter as I know some people do. What I don’t know or struggle to understand, because of my cognitive challenges or because of clashes with my beliefs, I reject almost outright. Why? Because if I don’t get it, I can’t control it. I can’t bend it to my will and make it do for me what I need it to do in order to feel safe

I am impatient. When I don’t get my way, I riot. I am almost always a moment away from from bashing in a car window because something I planned for my life went awry

Okay I think that’s it. I just really needed to indict myself in public because while there are so many good things about me (that I won’t list here bc that’s not what this post is about), I am really out here CLOWNIN 🤡 acting like I am not just falling back on old shit A LOT this year that is a direct result of my complex trauma and childhood conditioning, shit that I am currently paying too much money a month to address to still be acting like I’m not tryna grow the fuck up.

Yes, we are all called to be kind and merciful to ourselves when we experience seasons of regression. To examine why, to listen to ourselves without judgment, to take care of ourselves so that we have the energy to return more fully to the healing journey. I’m all for that, I promise. But first, I need to be honest with myself because I’m preaching the false gospel of “I’m fine” right now when I’m not fine. There is a storm brewing inside of me. It comes from my history and these attributes are the hailstones. Time to calm the weather system.

#this has been a post #and that’s all I’ll say about that #actually no I have one more tag #c ptsd

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5typesoftrash · 4 years

Text

Well... I couldn’t help myself. So here’s part 3 to this.

Sam walks in wearing something Dean’s never seen and Dean does a double take. He stares at him.

Them! Them, you idiot, your nonbinary sibling, not your brother, them, them, them.

Sam sighs heavily and says, “I’ll change.” They’ve half turned around when Dean finally finds his voice.

“No, it’s fine, just give me a sec. Lemme see.”

Sam hesitantly turns to look at him, spreading their arms self-deprecatingly. Their face is flaming. Dean looks them up and down carefully.

Sam’s holding the tag in his – their their their their their – hand. It’s an XL.

The dress is floor-length. It has two slits on the sides, making it essentially three-quarters around the back and a separate piece in the front. It’s form-fitting from the hips up, emphasizing the curve of Sam’s ass and waist. They’ve filled out the front so it doesn’t hang all baggy off of their chest. It has spaghetti straps that go over their shoulders and meet in the back. Their arms, neck, and chest down past their collarbones are entirely bare. Dean feels a sudden, odd, almost parental urge to force them to put on a jacket or something.

He glances down at the floor. He can see through the slits in the dress that Sam shaved their legs. Interesting. They’re also wearing a pair of black strapped pumps with a four-inch heel.

He looks back at their face. Their hair is slightly longer than he remembers and pulled up into a ponytail. They look really… cute.

“Does it make you happy, Sam?” Dean asks when he’s satisfactorily completed his examination.

Sam looks a little surprised, a little shocked, a little embarrassed, and a lot joyful. Like they weren’t expecting Dean to ask but it’s the best thing he could have done. “Dean,” they say eventually in this tone like they’ve discovered all the secrets of the universe. “This is the best thing I have ever worn.”

Dean makes eye contact and smiles. “Then fuckin’ wear it, Sammi. Your gender is your own. I have no place tryna tell you how you can or can’t express it. If it makes you happy then wear it.”

Sam hugs him hard enough to crack a few ribs. “Sammi,” Dean murmurs eventually, sounding pained even to himself. “Gonna want those lungs to be functional. Try not to crush ‘em.”

Sam nods and lets him go. “I- sorry. I love you, Dean.” They nearly sprint out of the room. Dean follows.

Sam makes their way into their bedroom and Cas is waiting for them there. Dean watches with fondness as Sam launches themself at the angel. Cas hugs them happily.

“He liked it,” Sam whispers, sounding giddy. “He fucking likes it.”

Cas is grinning at Dean over Sam’s shoulder. “I’m so glad, Sam.”

Dean’s heart is about twelve sizes too big for his chest. Or maybe his chest is compressing. Either way, it’s uncomfortably tight, and Dean almost hates it, but the look on Sam’s face wipes that into oblivion.

Sam lets go of the angel but they don’t really look embarrassed, just happy, and-

Holy. Fuck.

Sam’s looking at Cas with this expression like he’s the only thing that matters in the universe and Dean would be jealous if he wasn’t so shocked.

Holy fuck my sibling is in love with an angel.

He looks away. This is suddenly too private for him to see. He starts to walk away but Sam grabs his wrist. “Dude,” they say. “Been tryna break you of this habit forever. You can’t just fuck off when something happens that makes you feel stuff.”

Dean sighs. “But why?”

Sam laughs. “You’re stupid and annoying and my best friend and I love you. And you’re not getting on my case for wearing a dress, so props to you.”

“I like dudes,” Dean says and it’s so weird and it doesn’t sound right and his voice cracks but it’s also real. And Sam nods.

“Yeah, I know. Waiting for you to figure it out but I know.” They don’t look smug or anything, just sympathetic, like they know how hard it is for Dean to admit that.

Dean glances between the two of them, Cas where he’s sitting on the couch with his hands folded in his lap and Sam where h- they are standing in front of Dean looking adorably eager and Dean’s about to spontaneously combust. He swallows hard, taking Sam’s hand, and leads them into the kitchen.

“Dude, are you in love with Cas?”

Sam freezes. “Um.”

Dean honest-to-God laughs. “Holy shit, you are.”

“Maybe,” Sam admits.

Dean doesn’t know what to do, but he does know what to say. “Dude. Fuck him.”

Sam shakes their head. “Oh my god. No. I’m-”

“A bottom, yeah I know. But like. Sleep with him, dude.”

Sam sighs. “I don’t think she’s interested.”

Dean stares at them. “You don’t think he’s interested? He takes you shopping for shit like this outfit every single day. He spends most of his time with you. If anyone’s interested, it’s him. Go for it.”

Sam bites their lip, looking vulnerable and almost scared. “Are you sure? You really think so?”

“Dear god. Yes, I do. Just go.”

Sam swallows hard, nods, and goes, and Dean watches them disappear into the other room.

Two days later, he walks in on them mostly naked making out with Cas.

He hightails it out of there.

Taglist:

@incredulousanteater, @wickedwithwings, @fandomallthetime24601, @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover, @an-ace-pheonix

#sastiel #deansil writes #nonbinary!sam #agender castiel #trans sam series #S A S T I E L #i'm so happy that i finally got them there #idk i just love them????? so much??????#this is garbage isnt it.

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izzyfandoms · 4 years

Text

Chosen - Chapter Five

(This is a Gender-Swapped Sanders Sides high school au)

SUMMARY: Logan Berry, Dee Ceite, Patricia Foster, Virginia Picani and Regina and Rena Prince are all 16-year-old high school students. They live relatively normal lives, with ordinary lessons and ordinary crushes and ordinary families, until one day a monster shows up and attacks them after class, and everything suddenly changes.

SHIPS: Moxiety, Logince, Dukeceit

WARNINGS: Sympathetic Remus, Sympathetic Deceit, swearing, siblings arguing, sexual implications

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @ajdraws0430 @phantomofthesanderssides @creativity-killed-thekitten @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game

CHOSEN TAGLIST: @coasting-on-a-wave-of-apathy @littlestr @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear

Masterpost

FIRST CHAPTER | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“And then Regina was like ‘what? I don’t have a crush on Logan!’ which is super silly ‘cos they’re so obvious and she’s told me that she likes Lo so many times!” Patricia rambled on.

“Mmm,” Virginia hummed in agreement; she was painting Patricia’s nails with a pretty, dark purple nail polish. “It is pretty silly.”

It was Sunday, and they were currently at Virge’s house, in her room, sat together on her bed.

“Yeah!” Patricia blew a raspberry.

Virge tapped her girlfriend’s knee. “Stop moving, you’re gonna mess up your nails.”

“Oh, sorry, honey!” Pat stopped moving. “Anyway, Logan totally likes her back, right? I mean, she’s basically told us. And Dee and Rena, too! They’re super-duper in love, I just wanna take their faces and smush them together until they get married and live happily ever after!”

“As entertaining as that would be,” Virge said, finishing Patricia’s left hand and moved to the right one. “We shouldn’t meddle. Let them deal with their own shit.”

Patricia tutted lightly. “Language.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Virge said. She examined her own nails – pastel blue, painted by Pat earlier – double checking that they hadn’t been damaged, though they were already dry. “You know I’m right, though. You’re always telling me not to interfere, no matter how often I want to tell them. They’ll figure it out on their own.”

Pat sighed. “Yeah, I know.” She then giggled. “Doesn’t mean we can’t still complain, though.”

Virginia hummed in agreement again, and the two sat in comfortable silence for almost a minute, as Virge finished painting Pat’s nails. Once she was done, the pigtailed girl looked over her hands appreciatively.

“Yay! Now my nails are your favourite colour and your nails are mine! It’s perfect!” Patricia giggled, beaming.

Her girlfriend gave her a small smile. “You’re adorable.”

Patricia giggled again, softly, a light blush on her cheeks. She leant forward, careful not to smudge either of their nails, pressing a kiss to the tip of her girlfriend’s nose. Virge waited a few moments, watching her girlfriend adoringly, before she pounced, the shorter girl falling back on the bed, the taller almost on top of her.

Pat spluttered with laughter as Virginia tickled her sides, the purple-haired girl grinning mischievously as she did so.

“Ah, Virge!” Patricia exclaimed between laughter. “You’re gonna- you're gonna make me mess up my nail polish!”

Virginia finally stopped the onslaught of tickling, pushing herself up so she was hovering over her girlfriend, and shaking her head to get her hair out of her eyes.

Patricia wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s neck, pulling her down to kiss her properly and closing her eyes.

Virge kissed her back eagerly, her hands at her girlfriend’s waist. Pat’s lips were soft, as usual, and tasted vaguely sweet, like strawberries – she switched up the flavour regularly, so it was always a bit of a surprise. Virge’s lips, by contrast, were always slightly chapped, as she tended to chew them when she was especially anxious, but, in Patricia’s opinion, that didn’t make kissing her any less enjoyable.

“Ewwwwww!”

The two teenagers pulled apart immediately, their heads turning sharply to face the door, which was now open. Virginia’s eleven-year-old sister, Anne, was standing in the doorway, making a grossed-out face. She was wearing one of her sister’s old black-and-grey hoodies, and she had eyeshadow smudged under both eyes – she'd never admit it, but she was absolutely copying her older sister’s style.

“Get out my room!” Virge screeched, turning red. She sat up and grabbed one of her pillows, chucking it at her sister.

Anne dodged the purple projectile and ran off, laughing. “Mom, Virge and Pat are kissing again!”

“Leave them alone, Dear,” Emily half-scolded from across the hallway, though she was still smiling pleasantly. This was honestly the harshest she ever got with her daughters. She walked up to Virginia’s bedroom door and gave the two blushing teens a slightly apologetic smile. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” She teased, shutting the door.

“Mom!” Virge whined, before turning back to her girlfriend. “I’m sorry my sister’s such a brat.”

Patricia poked her shoulder teasingly. “Don’t be mean.”

Virge rolled her eyes, but pressed a reassuring kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead. “I’m not being mean; this is just what it’s like having a sister. Ask Regina or Rena, I’m sure they’d agree.”

Pat pouted a little at that. “I wish I had a sister. You’ve got Anne, and you’ll probably have Dee, too, soon.”

“You can bond with Logan about it, I guess,” Virginia shrugged.

The pigtailed girl gasped, her eyes brightening. “Logan can be my sister, then!” She pulled out her phone, careful not to mes sup her nail . “I’m gonna go tell her, right now.”

CATS

Patricia

Logan!!!!!!

Logan!!!!!!!!!!

Logan!!!!

Logan!!!!!!

Logan!!!!!!!!!!

Lo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dee

I should’ve muted this chat.

Logan

Patricia, you now have my attention.

Patricia

Logan!

Your my sister now!!!!!!

Logan

*You’re.

Also, what?

We do not share any parental figures; how can we be sisters?

Regina

God ofc you use perfect grammar in texts ilysm

Logan

What do ‘ofc’ and ‘ilysm’ mean?

Rena

it means she wants to fusdjjkfhfjshfkldjfdkshfjdhfdjfhsdkhfksdlfhsdfh

Virginia

oops guess renas been murdered

Logan

What?

Dee

Ignore her

Regina probably just tackled her

Regina

ur right!!!!!!!!!!!

gina did take my phone!!!!!!!

but I took hers and now im locked in the bathroom!!!!!!!!

i can say whateva i like!!!!!!!

REGINA IS TYPING

Dee

Oh dear

REGINA HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM ‘CATS’

RENA HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM ‘CATS’

Virginia

using my admin powers for good

“Virge!” Patricia exclaimed, poking her girlfriend’s shoulder disapprovingly.

“What?” Virginia shrugged. “Do you want to hear everything Rena has to say about what Regina and Logan wanna do with each other?”

Pat wrinkled her nose uncomfortably. “Well, no... but it’s mean to remove them!”

“Fine,” Virge sighed. “But if Rena starts talking about sex, I’m going to remove her again.”

PATRICIA HAS ADDED REGINA TO ‘CATS’

PATRICIA HAS ADDED RENA TO ‘CATS’

Virginia

rena if you talk about anything inappropriate from either your phone or reginas im blocking both of you

Regina

I finally got my phone back!

And I agree

Pls don’t do that

Rena

what counts as inappropriate tho

Virginia

anything that would upset pat

Rena

boo!

boring

“I’m going to fight her.”

“Honey, please don’t.”

Logan

Patricia, what was it you were trying to tell me at the start? Your statement about us being sisters was factually (and grammatically) incorrect.

Patricia

Were the only people on the chat without sisters!!!!! That means we should be sisters now so were not alone!!!!!

Logan

*We’re and *we’re.

And that does not make sense.

Besides, Dee doesn’t have any siblings, either.

Patricia

She and Virge are gonna be sisters soon right!!!!!!!

And youre my sister now sorry I dont make the rules!!!!!

Logan

*You’re and *don’t.

You were the one who made this chat. You do, literally, make the rules.

Virginia

(just go with it)

There was almost a minute of no texting, though everyone appeared to still be online, and Patricia shifted closed to her girlfriend in the interim, practically seating herself in the taller girl’s lap. Finally, Logan started typing again.

Logan

Fine.

Patricia

YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m going to spam you with heart emojis now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Logan

Please, don’t.

Patricia

Okay I won’t!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dee

I hate to interrupt

But my mom just got a message from Remy

Apparently, she and her parents are inviting us (and Mr Thomas) and any of our parents who know about the monster shit (her words not mine) to this fancy party at her place next Saturday . We need to dress kinda fancy, like dresses or fancy shirts and trousers, as it’s like tradition or something to hold these parties for each generation of chosen ones

Mom says she can tell any of your parents who don’t know the truth that you’re all at my house

But she also recommends you tell your parents whats actually going on

Virginia

ew party

Rena

ew telling dad the truth about the monsters

Logan

I didn’t think you were one to shy away from the truth, Rena. Wouldn’t it be easier to be honest with your father?

Rena

normally i wouldnt care

but if dad finds out about all this he could get all protective and shit and try to stop us from fighting monsters and all that other ‘dangerous’ stuff

Regina

Ugh, I can’t believe I acc agree with u

Patricia

Im still tryna figure out how to tell my moms!!!!!!!

I might ask Miss Emily to help me but idk

Virginia

she would she loves u

Regina

Wait lol pat arent you at virges house rn why r u texting

Patricia

Because I love all of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RENA IS TYPING

Regina

Before you speak

Is it appropriate?

Rena

Virginia

then dont

Rena

Virginia

dee can u get ur mom to text my mom the details

Logan

Mine, too, please.

Dee

Sure

Regina

Me and rena will have to ask dad later hes busy rehearsing lines rn

Rena

acc hes probs just txting the dude he went out with yesterday lmao

he wont tell us anything bout it and got kinda awkward when we asked bout the guy he went out with

so im assuming they fucked

Regina

I hate you so much

Stop saying that

Fight me

One day Im acc going to fight you and it is going to be brutal

Rena

i will win

Patricia

Hey now!!!!!!!

No fighting!!!!!!!!!!!!

“This won’t end well,” Virge said dryly, rolling her eyes.

Patricia hummed quietly in agreement, her brow creased. “I wish they wouldn’t argue so much, it makes me sad.”

Her girlfriend opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off by the bedroom door opening again. They both turned and watched as Emily stepped inside, giving them a smile.

“Patricia, your moms are here.”

“Oh, okay!” Patricia pocketed her phone and wiggled out of her girlfriend’s lap, jumping up and stretching. She took a step in the direction of the door, before pausing. She glanced up at her girlfriend’s mom with a slightly sheepish look. “Um, do you think at some point you’d be able to help explain the chosen one stuff to my moms? I’d like to tell them, but I’m not sure they’d believe me straight away.”

Emily’s expression softened; she put her hand on Pat’s shoulder supportively. “Of course, dear. In fact, I’m having dinner with Harriet on Wednesday. Would you like me to tell her then?”

“Yes, please! That would be super helpful, thank you!” Patricia beamed. She then turned on her heel, back to her girlfriend, and leant forward to kiss her quickly. “Bye, Honey! I love you so much!”

“Love you, too, Pat,” Virge responded softly, a little embarrassed that her mom was there to witness this, but still smiling slightly.

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localtransdude · 5 years

Text

Keyhole Top Surgery w/ Dr. Crane

Let me just say, it went f a s t.

Consultation:

Dr. Crane was honest. He talked through the concerns my parents had, and explained the surgery options for my chest. He said I was in between for DI and keyhole and I told him keyhole since I was stealth and changed frequently in front of others. He understood and it was over. Another thing, I'm not horribly dysphoric over my chest, but I know others cant stand the sight of it, so I'll add that Dr. Crane examines really fast and you probably wont have your shirt off for more than a minute. I had 2 student doctors observing, though you can request they not be there.

Pre-op:

Dr. DeLeon who works with Dr. Crane was there and explained the medications and what not. The nurse also helped in explaining other things. Dr. Crane went in and explained the procedure. I had 1 student doctor there in observation.

Operation:

I arrived at the hospital at 5:30am for preparation. It was located across from Dr. Crane's office. They had a really nice fish tank with a fuckton of cichlids. I went in to a prep room got undressed completely and into a gown. There was a male nurse guy and he was really nice and cool, I didnt even feel him put in the IV. The anesthesiologist came in and talked to me as well as one of Dr. Crane's nurses who gave me some stuff to calm me down in my IV. Dr. Crane was busy and couldnt visit before hand, but it was fine, I didnt care much. I didnt feel nervous at all until they started wheeling me in, so I started to recite my lines from a play and I started to feel the Calm Juice by the time I got to the operating room. I barely had enough energy to move to the operating table. Next thing you know I woke up in recovery. First thing i say? "I was just saying Euripides what the hell." My nurse afterwards was not as great. She kept calling me she and not so nice to my dad either. But if I'm honest, I was high as fuck and didnt care, I was nauseous and wanted to sleep. I got wheeled to my car and was sent home.

Post op:

Again, very fast. I got to the office, and got to a room immediately (granted, I was almost late). Nurse talked to me, made sure I was good, and then the dressings came off. Man it was weird. I felt weight on my chest cause the compression had held back so much but my god I could BREATHE. They said I didnt have to wear my binder anymore but I could if I wanted to. My parents are gonna make me wear it for another week. Dr. Crane doesnt use drains for DI but does for keyhole. I got my drains removed and holy shit it was a lot. It didnt hurt, just annoying ig. The one on my left was stuck, but pulling them feels weird, and btw, I had at least 20 inches of tubing(wack I know). But alas, I shook Dr. Crane's hand, said bye to the nurses, and off i went with a new chest.

Recovery:

I know my body. That's one of the best things you can do. When I work out, I'm sore for two days and then I'm good. Same with the surgery. I was sore as shit for two days but then it was fine, just weird feelings on the incisions and drains. Specifically the left nipple and right drain. That was it really. I recovered pretty fast and this is day 4 of recovery and I'm out and about with my parents. Am I lifting and raising my arms and pulling heavy things like i was before? No, but I'm mobile. Knowing your body and knowing your surgeon are very important. Cause I knew how I heal, and Dr. Crane is a very good surgeron.

What you should know:

-oh my god pillows. Get one of those sofa pillows with the arms attached. And then get a neck pillow. You might feel uncomfortable laying flat after surgery and sleeping up may be more comfortable. Ive used my neck pillow since day 1.

-you have to pee. They just pumped you with a fuckton of fluids. You're gon a have to pee afterward. On top of that, you just got high off anesthesia. You're gonna piss yourself of you dont pee when your body says, I almost did. When nature calls, go to it.

-take it slow, it's a major surgery and your body is tryna cope with that

-LIGHT FEET. I'm a very heavy footed person, and walking like I normally did hurt. You have to be light on your feet

-Real cowboy hours. In order for me to get around easily, I was walking like a cowboy to avoid hurting my drains

-i cant really come up with much else, though I know there are better lists elsewhere lmao

Overall, I'm happy with my results. I got under the nipple keyhole and it looks great. I'd recommend Dr. Crane to any person in Texas needing surgery especially if they're under 18. The nurses are wonderful and Dr. Crane is professional and honest with his work and words.

#he speaks #ftm #transgender #trans #ftm transgender #female to male #transguy #trans man #ftm trans #trans guy #transman #transmen #top surgery #keyhole surgery #keyhole top surgery #ftm surgery #ftm top surgery

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pockpop · 6 years

Text

bts reaction to newlywed wife gifting them a boudoir album

➢ request: Hey!!! Can i please request a BTS reaction to their newlywed wife gifting them a Boudoir album on their wedding night as a gift? Thank you and keep writing, I really appreciate your writing and efforts to include all races. 💞💞

➢ genre: fluffy fluff fluff, suggestiveness

➢ warning: y’all know I curse a lot, it ain’t no secret

➢ a/n: hey boo you know who you are (￣∇￣) hehe I’m glad you finally requested something from me! and I really hope you like it and I really glad you appreciate what I do, I hope to continue on and be better lol okay enough with the sappy stuff I luv ya and read on loves bye (╭☞ ͡ ͡°͜ ʖ ͡ ͡°)╭☞

masterlist

••

•jin•

he’d be extremely curious and even though he’d want to rip that shit open(buss it wide open,lol do y’all even know that song or am I just old?) he would open it slowly, eyes big and wide as he saw you in these poses he had never seen before. so shook that he’d be looking between you and the album feeling like he was going crazy

“babe can we just discuss the fact that I bought all these lingerie sets for you and you modeled for someone else and not me first!”

“is that really the first thought in mind?”

“well other than the fact you is fine as fuck, but THATS NOT THE POINT HERE,”(a hot worldwide handsome mess)

•yoongi•

confused af at first, opening it with caution but the moment he saw you in clothing that barely covered anything at all, yoongi may not show his emotions all the time but his lips would spread into a shy smile instantly and he’d bite his lip.

“oh my- tryna give me a sneak peak before the real show huh?”

•hoseok•

lose his shit. when he opened the album, jaw dropping and all, dramatic and probably crying a bit to be honest, totally gonna frame some of the pictures because he claims it’s for his art collection.

“I feel like I’m being attacked,”(sums him up perfectly)

•namjoon•

lost his shit. but on the inside. the moment he started flipping through it and seeing you all exposed and looking so damn good, he’d try to be cool about it on the outside, really wanting to get down on his knees and thank the heavens for being blessed to be married to you,

“damn baby, you look so damn good, wanna model these outfits for a private showing just for me? I mean I am your husband now,”

•jimin•

reddest cheeks ever. it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen you naked before or in less clothing than normal but seeing you dressed that way, as if teasing him. he would definitely be thinking of ways to surprise you just as you did him, those images of you never far from his mind.

“oh so you wanna play games, huh?”

•taehyung•

lip biting, happy af boi! literally would take the time out of your wedding night to thoroughly examine the photos and probably also thinking of framing a few for the bedroom.

“you’re so damn beautiful, I don’t deserve you,”

“tae, we just got married,”

“BUT STILL,”

•jungkook•

would 100% be the one to open it during the reception with all of his groomsmen around(this boi here) and the moment he saw skin, he’d close the album so fast, his face burning as his friends tried to get it from him but he wasn’t playing no games.he’d try to smile it off as they fought him for it and would wink at you from where you sitting surrounded by your bridesmaids, cooing over his gift to you,

“y’all just mad because I got the best one in here so back up!”

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fairycosmos · 5 years

Note

was not tryna give a part 3 omg but i feel like my mom is just tired of me. i know she is. she barely comes home anymore n whenever i try to spend time with her she acts like it’s a task, like she’s being forced. & in ways she makes me feel bad for talking or anything but i just miss her. i miss everyone. my mom & i never had a good relationship but she’s what keeps me here & i just feel like i have nothing sometimes. my heart just hurts more than i can say. thank u for listening, ur an angel 🥺

hi bby :(( thank you for being so honest and open w me, it really is something to be proud of and is also proof that you are genuinely more capable of this than you think !! which seems like bullshit but it's not !! honestly the worst thing about treating your mental health is the amount of trial and error involved. you have to find that specifically works for you in exactly the right way. it's annoying, and you have every right to be frustrated. sometimes it can make you feel like giving up completely, because it's just so exhausting, and that's ok. as long as you understand the difference between having an urge and acting on it. the prospect of a new therapist is totally daunting but at the same time, you are allowed to set boundaries and take it at your own pace. if you do your best to explain how mentally tired you are, and that you want to take it slow, they will generally respect that. the thing about therapy is that you just don't know how it's going to go until you're there. sometimes you surprise yourself. sometimes it all just comes spilling out. sometimes you clam up. and all of it, all of it a natural part of the process. i mean this in the least patronising way, you are so strong for picking yourself up every time, for continuing to try. you may feel like your brain is totally fried right now but when push comes to shove, you are so much more than you realize.

as for school, jesus, that just be so nerve wracking and i don't blame you for being a bit scared at at all. the few weeks before you begin is always the worst part because your mind sort of runs wild with possibilities. but always try to remember that anxiety job is literally to take situations and warp them into something they're not based on fear and trepidation. in reality you have no idea what's going to happen and a middle ground, average result is always the most likely outcome anyway. take a breath. i get that logically knowing things doesn't help much with mental illness but it always helps to ground yourself. bottom line is, you will adapt and grow with the new environment even if you don't think you will. it's inevitable. you will find your routine and your mundanity again, and all of it will become second nature. even if there's a few awkward moments, even if you struggle a little at first. most people do. as long as you understand that there is always help available, always other options, and you are never trapped or totally stuck in a situation no matter how much your brain tries to convince you that you are. if your schoolwork gets on top of you, you CAN take a step back for the sake of your mental health, even if adults whine about it. if you don't know how to talk to people, learn by example and keep in mind that they're probably perceiving you better than you perceive yourself. like with therapy, let school integrate into your life at its own pace. half the battle is honestly just showing up. unfortunately all of this fear is where the growth happens. it's very normal to want to go back into hospital, to want to avoid reality, but there is no life waiting for you there. this is something i find very hard to come to terms with myself. you have to get up and touch the tangibility and live in it with everyone else. and you are, you're doing it as we speak, and that genuinely counts for so much dude. i can't stress that enough. these periods of loneliness and isolation are absolutely horrible and i don't really know the answer to them to be honest, but i do know that they are often periods of massive self growth, and they can end just as aprubtly as theuy begin. you are deserving of companionship and love, and just because it's hard to find doesn't mean it's not out there for you. in so many forms, over and over again, you will feel it. it's not as far fetched as your anxiety wants you to believe. where you're at right now isn't where you'll always be, and new beginnings are proof of that.

about your mum, god i'm so sorry she's been making you feel that way?? i can't tell you how much i relate and how much it hurt me when i was younger, and i promise you're absolutely not alone in feeling this way. so many people can and do understand, and that goes for all of this - the mental illness, the therapy stress, the fear and annoyance of starting anew. complexes caused by negative parental relationships are always so hard to heal from because they're so deeply rooted within, but i need you to try to understand that your worth does not lie in your mother and you can not force her to be mature, to to understand if she's so insistent on misunderstanding. it's one of the fuckin hardest lessons to learn and i don't know if the pain ever stops from it (though it definitely settles and becomes more manageable), but there is a point in every kids life where they just realize their parents are wrong. they're ignorant, or they're obtuse, or they're mean - and that is on them. it is a reflection of them and that is it, there's nothing else to it. of course you shouldn't have to deal with it at all, but it is not caused by you no matter how much it feels like it is, angel. your mental illness is harder for you to put up with than it is for her to witness and if she can't accept that, she's fucked. idk the details of your relationship with her, and maybe even if you sit her down and force her to listen, something will click. it's not an impossibility and i sure hope it happens, but if it doesn't i promise there are so so so sooo many other avenues of support out there. and your parents are truly not the beginning and end of the world. one day, sooner than you think, you are going to live a life divorced of her opinions, and even better, you won't feel such a craving to hear them. you will be in control of your own environment and mental well being and it will not be anything like what you're expecting. that's a guarantee, something you can always rely on. i know words are pointless, i know they're empty to you. and i know i can't make you see your situation the way i do, obviously. but i really hope you can take the time to find the ment clarity to examine why you're so averse to accepting the positive, what you can do to help yourself, and whether or not your anxieties are rooted in rationality of not. there's seriously so many ways to battle and to overcome the shit you're going through and it only feels so chaotic at the moment because you're in the midst of finding your feet. think back to when you first went into hospital, and how foreign everything felt, and how you got through it a day at a time. you didn't confront all that for nothing. you are so much more resilient than you realize and i wholeheartedly believe that. i'm assuming you're still very young, and so even the natural growth and development of your life is going to afford you so many answers and so much relief, though of course there will always be new questions and things to fight. but the bottom is you've got time, and if you have to take this one step at a time, or one hour at a time, or even a minute at a time - you can. you are okay. some days are rough but they do not negate your progress. so take a breath and try to identify what it is you need (e.g to talk to your parents, to be honest with the professionals in your life, to incorporate coping mechanisms into your daily routine so you feel less overwhelmed about school etc) and let that be good enough, because it is. i'm infinitely proud of you for being here and i know the hurt and the loneliness is a total tidal wave right now but it will it always be, and that's a certainty, unlike your fears. i really hope you find some peace of mind soon and that your mum heard you out. if you want to talk about this properly or if you need a friend i will be here. sending love and warmth to u dude. message me anytime.

#anon #long post

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blackrosesfanfic · 5 years

Text

Chapter 188

Cammie

"I sit around here complaining all the damn time. For what?"

Baby laughs. "Oh bitch please. Let me tell you some complaining. Yesterday, Kain come home mad as shit. So apparently some cop noticed him from a family photo that... Get this. Chris Brown put up. Kain mad because the cop let him off into front of his friends. Didn't check to see what he had in his pockets."

I laugh. "What fid he have?"

"Girl, some fucking cocaine, Oxy, and weed. Oh and a damn glock. He gonna tell me he done with all that shit after that. I'm like nigga you..."

"Yo?" Kain says in the phone.

I chuckle. "Kain."

"Aye, can I talk to Trey?"

"Call him. No. I'm talking."

He stucks his teeth. "Man, you act like I got that man number. Fuck, I walk around with celebrities numbers and shit too?" he starts laughing. "Naw, Bae, for real. I don't have my phone. Tell him to hit me up on Boo phone."

"Tremaine!"

"Copy." he says through the baby monitor.

I look behind me at it. "Call... Kain wants to talk to you."

"Who?"

"Kain. Baby baby... Okay. My sister boyfriend." I snap.

Baby comes back to the phone. "You a fucking bitch. Get her. You just gonna let her cry? Yes you did wake her up. Kain! Hold on, Cammie, let me get my baby."

"Okay."

A few seconds later the phone hangs up. I take it from my ear putting it down on the table next to the rocking chair. Ironically it's me and Lane rocking in Caden's chair inside Caden's room with no Caden. Trey walks into the room eating.

"Why would I have your sister number?" Trey says.

"Trey?" I take the blanket off Lane.

He scrunches up his face. "I was about to fucking say why the hell Caden look so big. What the hell you doing with Lane big ass in your lap? Where Caden?"

"Chris I think."

"What Kain wants?"

I scrunch. "He not going to tell me. He weird like that. Come get Lane. Tremaine, I want to go out."

"Let's go." he says walking across the room. "Name it. Paris?"

"Stop playing. People don't go out to Paris."

Trey takes Lane all wildly. He does wake up. "We not people. Plus people do."

"I want to go to dinner. That's it."

"Need a bodyguard dinner or don't need a bodyguard dinner?"

I look at him. "Don't need a bodyguard dinner, Tremaine."

"So fancy fancy $100 entrée dinner."

"If it means no bodyguard. Oh and I'm not driving so if you want wine get a driver."

"Picky."

"Pinky?"

He laughs then leaves out the room. "Get ready."

"Tremaine you take longer than me. I got to pump." I say starting to get up. "Oh."

"Yeah." Chris says walking in with a fussing Caden.

I reach my arms out. "There's no milk?"

He places him down gently. "I didn't check."

"Jay, Buggiz in town."

"Why you called him? I said no bodyguard."

"Where are you going?" Chris asks me.

I shrug. "Nowhere if my nigga don't get his life right."

Chris laughs. "Your nigga huh? Okay, Cammie. When he get himself together?"

"To dinner. That's all."

"Yeah?"

"Nobody else. Sorry." I say reaching in my shirt. "So are you going to go away so I can feed my baby?"

He scrunches his eyebrows. "Breastfeeding not sexual."

"You gonna look at my breast and not think anything sexual?"

"Don't start shit." he says walking out of the room.

I laugh. He knows good and well that he not gonna look at my breast and not think anything. We might have gotten over that hump but I'm still a woman and he is still a man. Trey comes in the room smiling really hard.

"I have great reservations."

"Why are you smiling so hard?"

He gestures with his head behind himself. "Check out this kid."

"Tremaine?"

"JJ?" Trey says smiling at me.

JJ walks into the room naked. "Tremaine?"

"JJ?" I snap.

"Mommy." he says looking at me then running out. "I going to put on my pants, okay?"

I shake my head. "Why does he keep stripping? He just got in trouble earlier about the same thing. Now he naked again."

Trey gets down on the floor facing me. "I really want to have a baby girl."

"Tremaine."

"I know your body needs two years. I know. I have to plan my life years in advance. I could be booked for something a year from now with ease. You know this. I think I want to slow down when Lane gets ready for really school."

I stare at him to see how hard he thinking about it. "Well how convenient is it to be 2 years from now?"

"Yeah." he says coming closer to me. "There's a lot of ways to settle down as an entertainer. What do you want to do? As in me."

"I... I don't even know nothing. What options?"

He wraps his arms around my waist then lies his head on my lap. "Movies. They take up more time but i will be home more. A business. Lots of businesses. They take up time. It takes time to make money."

"Tremaine you want me to be honest?"

"Yes." he says holding his head up.

I touch his nose. "I feel some type of way about my fave telling me he not going to make music. What the fuck will I fucking do then?"

He smiles then comes up in my face. "That's what you thinking about when I'm trying to plan our life?"

"I mean... Yeah. I like Trey Songz."

"Well, I'll be Mr. Steal Your Girl for you."

Caden lets out a loud scream then stops. I take my nipple out of his mouth then put him to the other one. He starts fanning his hand hitting my breast. He hits himself in the face then stops moving altogether. Trey laughs then rub Caden's cheek. Caden wasn't even sucking. Trey squeezes his cheeks making him kick his feet.

"I'm not going to be touring and shit leaving the kids for days and weeks. Not being there for school shit. I want to be that dad. The one who knows all the teachers and coaches his son's basketball team. That's the dad I have always been in my head."

"Okay then get you an artist. But don't stop music. The songs that you came out with lately has really been amazing. I still want that. You can be dad and Trey Songz."

He rubs my side. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Aye, bruh." Forrest says then walks back out the room. "Why aren't you covered?!"

I chuckle covering up. "Sorry, Forrester."

"Chris said y'all going out." Forrest says coming in the room.

"Oh." Trey says getting off the floor. "Yeah."

Forrest reaches out for Caden. "I'll take the pest."

"Don't call him that."

"Lane calls him the shitter."

"No he does not." I snap.

Forrest holds up on hand. "I swear to you not."

"So you lying?"

"Sure." Forrest says taking Caden.

"Oh burp him. Trey stopped him from feeding." I say straightening myself under the blanket.

Forrest hands Caden to Trey. "I don't know how to do that. He too small."

Trey flips Caden over in his arms making him face the floor. "I'm a pro at this shit."

"You not a..." I start. Caden burps. "Who taught you that?"

"Get off my back." Trey says giving Caden to Forrest. "Wife come."

Trey

Cammie comes out of the closet holding up her shoes. "Do we have a lot of walking to do?"

"Come here, Jay."

"I'm going to wear my flat shoes."

"No." I say trying to get her to come to me. "Jay?"

She walks over to me examining the shoes. "I don't know where these shoes came from. Your mother must have been in my closet again. What did Kain want with you?"

"He wanted to know if I would give him $40,000."

"What?" she says lowering the shoes. "Who has that... I mean why the hell would you give him that amount of money? What he tryna do bail the who town out?"

I chuckle. "He wanted to get his homeboy out of jail. Yeah."

She stares at me. "And what did you say?"

"Jay, he wanted to know if I mind them coming here. He was saying that he knew you would say yes so he wanted to hear from me."

"Mommy didn't say that they were coming."

I rub her hips and ass. "He didn't tell her yet. He don't want her telling her friends. He thinks that is part of the reason their house keep getting broken into. He just gonna pack them up and drive here."

"That's gonna be a lot of people."

"They can stay at my place uptown."

She puts hed hands on her hips. "Why the fuck do you still have that?"

"Damn, for my other bitch." I say then quickly change it. "I haven't gotten around to getting it market ready."

"To sell it?"

"I got to paint, polish, replace shit, and some other things to get what I want for it. Aye, you remember that island we went to for our honeymoon?"

She puts her hands on her hips. "Wait so he didn't ask you for money?"

"No." I say kissing her stomach. "Jay, let's stay home."

"No." She spats moving away from me.

I sigh. "I tried. Jayla, I sold that spot on the island."

She shrugs. "It's just a place."

"Very true. I want to own a house in a foreign country."

"Tremaine?"

I run my hand up her thigh. She leans over kissing my lips. It almost paralysis me. I take my hand to her pussy pushing against her clit. She climbs on my lap still kissing me. It's one of those rare moments when Jayla is in control of everything. She loves watching me do all the work while she fantasizes or some shit. I bring her closer to me. She lifts up her body reaching inside my pants. I adjust my pants. She slides on my dick. I grab her sides pulling her to me more.

"Tremaine!"

"Hmm."

She pushes me back. "Get your fucking nails out my back. You being a bitch."

I run my hands down her body to her legs then let them flop on the bed as I lay back. She pulls on my pants a bit. I don't move to help her get them out of her way. I'm going to act dead. She leans towards me rubbing my chest with one hand. I watch her in a state of hypnosis. Her hair falls from where she had it neatly tucked.

"Your car is here!" someone says knocking.

It wakes me from my trance. Cammie was now sitting up straight circling her hips on mine. I sit up running one hand behind her back and grabbing the back of her neck with the other hand. I kiss her neck. She moans to my touch. I stand up while she continues to move then I turn around laying her on the bed. She wraps her legs around me. I bite on her neck and try to get her legs from around me. She was still moving her body at her own tempo. I grind against her trying to break her rhythm. She tenses up her body and screams. Fuck. I start kissing her lips. I lost. I had already busted by the time she let go of me.

"I fucking hate always gotdamn talking through a fucking door." April spats. "Are you fucking going or should I send this gotdamn car away?"

"Damn hold the fuck on." I snap.

Cammie pushes me off of her. "You had to fucking say it like that?"

"Did she?"

Cammie touches the side of my dick with her foot. "Maybe we should let the car go."

"You wanted to go out." I spat. "I already paid for the reservation. Why stay?"

"We can go." she shrugs. "I just thought I would pay some extra attention to you."

I frown looking at her foot on my dick. What the hell that means? I touch her foot. She was pressing it against my balls and that shit felt good. Go out to dinner or find out what Cammie paying me close attention means? She never fucking said that before. I jerk from the racing satisfaction she was causing. I rub on her calf then get closer to the bed. She moves her foot to my hip stopping me.

"You have to go pay the driver and cancel the reservations."

"I..." I look at my dick. "Do I have to?"

She sits up in the bed touching my side. "It's the right thing to do. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm afraid of the moment leaving."

"It's not going anywhere either. Go ahead now." she says pushing me as if I were Lane.

I pick up my pants. She stands up off of the bed and walk away. I go to the door and open it. April was in the hall talking on the phone. She pauses like she had a problem with me. I make eye contact with her then walk away. I guess we beefing or some shit.

"Where is Cammie?" Amber asks as I walk out the front door.

"Where are you going?"

She shrugs a bit. "Me and MiMi just going to her aunt's house."

"Dressed like that?" I open my wallet. I give her the piece of paper. "Go to the dinner reservations I made."

"Why aren't you going? It was so cute seeing you about to go out. Are yall good?" she says not wanting to take the paper.

I give her a hundred dollar bill. "Here to pay for appetizers."

"Money." MiMi says taking it.

"They not going out." Amber says disappointed.

MiMi looks at the paper. "How come?"

I smirk. "We got better things to do."

"Oh really." MiMi says reaching her hand into my wallet. "Don't fucking be cheap. You were going to spend way more than $100 tonight."

"Well I guess if you not fighting." Amber shrugs.

"They fucking." MiMi says counting to see how much she took. "Ok, I'm happy. Be safe kids. Let's go Ambrosia."

Amber giggles walking down the steps. "We being hookers. We did not tell our men we were going to eat."

I walk back in the house. Lane was standing there looking at me with sleepy sad eyes. I close the door then take my shirt off. If he sees me undressing he will go on about his bisiness. I walk by him still standing there.

"You okay, Man?" I ask him.

"Where Mommy?" he asks.

I continue walking. "You didn't see her in the room."

"Mommy not in room."

"Did you check the bathroom? She must be in the bathroom.

Lane goes the other way. "Nanma?"

"Yes, baby." she says.

"Lane was looking for you." I say to no onw closing the door.

Cammie comes out the bathroom looking fucking delicious. "I was talking to that kid. Don't let him play with your mind. He asked where you was. I told him you were paying the car driver. He used the bathroom then he left."

I chuckle. "You look tasty."

"Come here let me make you look tasty."

"I don't want to look like you." I say walking to her.

She giggles. "I have this in blue. You sure?"

I kiss her titties. "Why make them look so good?"

"You can do what you want with them. If you don't mind a little milk."

"I don't fucking mind nothing that comes from you."

She takes my shirt off then unbuttons my pants. "You don't need nothing on to make you look tasty."

I step out of my clothes. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing." she says then kneels down until she level with my dick.

"I'll be quiet." I say turning my lips into my mouth.

She smiles at me then touch the tip of my dick to her closed lips. I smile back at her. It seem like time stopped and she was the only thing moving in slow motion. She sticks out her tongue gently brushes my head. I take a deep breath. She circles the tip the takes it into her mouth. I had to stop watching her show or I was going to bust. I close my eyes. Once again I feel her tongue on my dick. I was so tempted to open my eyes.

"Fuck." I hiss.

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