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cherrryxx · 6 months

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“Did you get enough love, my little dove why do you cry?”

(Song: Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens)

M!reader goes to OP boys for comfort after being scared from a thunderstorm.

Including: Law, Shanks, Mihawk

Warnings: mild angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, DOMESTIC FLUFF(!!), implied trauma, reader has cptsd/ptsd, reader is part of Law/Shanks crew (Shares castle with Mihawk), can be read as romantic or platonic!!, also y/n is used once or twice sooo

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TRAFALGAR LAW

You jumped out of your bed, startled by the loud rumbling. Despite being underwater in a sub, the sound of the threatening thunder was still potent. You shivered under your covers, loud noises were always upsetting to you, but thunderstorms were the worst.

Getting out of your bunk, you crept across the quiet and empty halls, it seemed everyone else was asleep. You started towards the kitchen, hoping to get a calming cup of tea, when another crack of thunder shakes the sub.

You fall to the floor covering your ears. You lay there for a few minutes before the sound of footsteps makes you lift your head.

“What are you doing?”

Law looks down at you on the floor, with a mild look of disdain.

Quickly getting up you brush yourself off, “It’s nothing, I just… tripped.” You lie poorly.

Law gives you a look as if he didn’t feel like questioning you at the moment, “Alright,” he sighs, “You heading to the kitchen?”

You nod as you awkwardly to walk to the pantry, inspecting the shelves for the small tin of dried leaves. Shit. There’s no more tea.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you turn around.

KRRRRKKKK

You quickly dodge under the table as the sub shakes again. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm your breathing as your panic nearly grabs ahold of you.

You see Law’s legs appear beside the table and he peers down at you, dark eyes inspecting your face.

“I thought you said nothing was wrong? Don’t lie to me, I’m a doctor, and I can very well see that something isn’t right with you.”

He said flatly. You nod and shakily get up from under the table.

“ m’ sorry.” You mutter, “I just… really hate thunderstorms. The noise…” you trail off.

Law gives you a look of sympathy, “I can see that.” He comments.

He pauses for a moment.

“Do you want to sleep in my room?”

You look at him, unsure if you heard him correctly, “What?”

Law sighs, “I said, ‘do you want to sleep in my room?’”

You sit for a moment, registering his offer, and nod slightly.

Law pats your shoulder and gestures for you to follow him. You’ve never been to his room so it felt odd entering it, especially in theses circumstances.

“I don’t bite.” Law says as he lays flat on his back, pulling his cap over his eyes, “C’mere.” He pats the bed next to him gently.

You lay awkwardly in the bed next to him. It did feel much better. Being next to someone helped a lot.

As you start to drift off to sleep, Law pulls the blanket up to your shoulder and pats your back gently. The motions are as comforting as they are soothing.

“Thank you.” You whisper quietly.

Law grunts in response, letting out a yawn as he rolls to his side, falling into his own sleepiness.

Through the night you end up closer to Law, and he lazily throws an arm over you, snoring gently.

The thunderstorm didn’t scare you anymore, as the safety of your captain’s blankets and kindness kept you safe.

SHANKS

You stumble across the rocking deck, struggling to keep your balance as you shakily dodge into the nearest bunk.

You were shivering and wet, having the appearance of a ‘soggy cat’; as your cocky captain would often tell you.

You sneeze and start to disrobe your wet clothes when a deep rumble echos through the air. Freezing in fear, you stare with wide eyes through the ship’s window into the cascading sea.

You were well aware of the grand line’s unpredictable weather, but it didn’t change how much you loathed thunder. The loud cracking would leave you shaking on the floor in fear at best, and panic attacks at the worst.

You only managed to get your pants barely on, just before another, louder, crack of thunder resonated through the air.

Letting out a gasp of fear you dive into the nearest bed, clamping a pillow over your head.

There’s a creaking and a sound of louder rainfall as the door opens and closes again.

“What’s this?”

It was the voice of your captain, Shanks.

He lifts the blanket over you and smirks down, “Hello there.” But once he sees your panicked state his face quickly changes to sympathy and worry.

He wraps his arm over your shoulder and gently pulls your clammy form to a sitting position.

“Hey hey, tell me what’s wrong?”

Shanks rubs your shoulder soothingly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so pathetic.” You wipe away the forming tears from the corner of your eyes, “I’m a pirate on the grand line and I can’t even tolerate the sound of thunder.” Your voice cracked slightly.

Shanks smiled comfortingly, “Everyone has things that may seem like a silly fear, but I know you’re not a coward. After all, you’re still here aren’t you?”

He pats your back, “Just because things from the past bite you in the ass sometimes doesn’t make you weak. It is better to learn to work past that, but those things take time.”

Using his arm he pulls your face to his shoulder, “C’mon, you can stay with me tonight if it will help.”

Shanks rubs your head gently as you nod in agreement. Waiting for the storm to calm, he takes you through the lower deck to his room.

By now you felt much calmer, and much more secure from Shanks’s reassurance. You’ve had to share a room and bed with the red hair pirate before, so you didn’t feel too out of place laying down next to your captain.

Shanks grabs your arm and tugs you over to his side of the bed, making sure you were still comfortable.

You could hear him start to snore rather quickly, and despite its annoying sound, you fell asleep soon after. Your brow resting against his collarbone as you nodded off to sleep.

MIHAWK

You sat in the library, silently reading a novel you had recently taken interest in, when there was the sound of a deep rumble from the sky.

Getting up quickly, you look outside the large window to see a large, quickly approaching, storm-cloud. You let out a soft sigh and start to walk to the inner castle, you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the noise or shaking that close to the exterior.

On your way to the sitting room, you bump into Mihawk.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You say quickly to the hawk-eyed man.

“No troubles, where are you heading off to in such a hurry?”

Mihawk’s penetrating eyes gazed at you while he talked, as if he were trying to read your deepest thoughts.

“Nothing important, I’m just not fond of thunderstorms so I try to stay in the center of the castle.” You try to explain dismissively.

Mihawk lets out a questing sigh as he looks to you, “I suppose that makes sense, allow me to join you?”

You hesitate, but accept his invitation as he follows you to the sitting room.

You let out a soft sigh as you lean back and close your eyes in a plush chair close to the warm fire. Thunder booms through the castles stone halls and you flinch slightly, opening an eye as if you were checking for danger.

Mihawk takes notice and watches you curiously and silently.

“It’s rather late.” He comments nonchalantly, “It would be beneficial to both of us to begin preparing for bed now.”

You clam up a bit, not enthused by the idea of being alone in the loud and boisterous storm.

“Well, it seems a bit early to bed.”

You try to say as convincingly but leisurely as possible.

Mihawk’s golden eyes roll over to you, inspecting your mannerisms and expression. “Hmmm.” He hums.

“Or is it that you don’t want me to go and leave you alone?”

Crap, he really could read minds. You look away, slightly ashamed.

“Storms aren’t so bad… but they feel worse when I’m alone.” You whisper quietly.

The dark haired man looks at you inquisitively, “Well, just say that first next time.”

He waves a hand dismissively.

“You can bed with me tonight if it helps.”

You stare at the swordsman, registering his words. To say something like that seemed unlike him, but at the same time… very much like him.

“Alright. I wouldn’t want to disturb you though, I don’t see how it’s your issue.” You say softly.

Mihawk scoffs, “What kind of a man would I be If I carried no compassion for someone I share my home with?”

You hold in a laugh and follow the warlord to his room.

You’ve been in Mihawk’s rooms before occasionally, it had rich red fabrics and was filled with bookshelves of trinkets and treasures. Additionally, a large stand for Yoru to rest upon sat on an especially sturdy shelf.

Mihawk seemed to sleep in clothes just as extravagant or fancy looking as his day clothes. He gave you an odd look as you stood awkwardly beside the large bed.

“Well? Are you sleeping or not?”

He asks, opening a book as he sits back on the bed, reading.

You carefully settle onto the bed next to him while Mihawk quietly reads his book. It was comforting, he didn’t have to say anything but you could feel his sympathy off of his actions alone.

Closing your eyes, you feel a hand rest gently on your head.

“Sleep well, darling.”

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cvlutos · 1 year

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hey there! I just commented on one of your posts and as I was reading it, I had an idea and was wondering if I could brainstorm w you cause I wanna fan girl w someone

Imagine if Reader always tries to escape the Neighborhood. Every time they get past the Neighborhood, they only ever manage reach the edge of the woods. And then everything goes white.

And they wake up as a different person in the show. A newly introduced character and every time, they have to fight to escape again.

When R first wakes up in the neighborhood, they retain all their memories of their past life for only a minute and then they disappear completely.

pls lemme know if you have any thoughts on this!!

No cause this would be so interesting! Was supposed to write a drabble and instead wrote a whole thing. Oops

HIS GAME!!

✦ | Apr.08th.2023 | —K |

✦ | Wally Darling | Gn!Reader

✦ | Synopsis: How many times must we do this, neighbor? |

"Stop it!"

Your voice is hoarse, panicked, angry, frightened. Once pristine black shiny shoes covered in dirt and mud, your clothing rip and torn, as your nails claw and push against the tall, almost fake pine trees. Desperate to get away, needing to get out.

Trees bend and sway, shivering and jumping as the ground begins to change, turning soft and grabbing the soles of your shoes, the edge of your clothing, pulling you—yanking you—tugging you into the ground that swallowed you. You scream, cry out in utter pain, hands clawing at the gooey surface, your body frantically fighting. Ink-like hands grab at your face, pulling your cheeks and dragging you downward, muffling your screams, digging into your eyes. Your vision blurs into pure white.

'How many times must we do this, neighbor?'

You awake with a jolt, you don't have time, tumbling out of your bed with shaky steps, nearly throwing aside your large night stand as you fumbled for a heavy sharp piece of wood, drawing a shaky tally into the wall, your breathing is erratic as the door to your home opens and footsteps near closer to your bedroom.

You don't have time.

Your vision is spotty, salvia slipping past your lips desperate, exhaustion filling your bones as you slump to the floor. A soft sigh drawing your attention as he stands in your doorway, you can make out the smallest smile and wave, before sleep overtakes you.

'WELCOME HOME'

The note is written with a red crayon, spelled out with a multiple different signatures. Julie, Barnaby, Frank, Poppy, Sally, Eddie, Howdy, & Wally. You can't help but smile at the kind letter, each of your new neighbors taking time to greet you, even though they've never met you. You dust off your colorful clothing, tightening the straps of your red shoes, and fixing your hair as you make your way towards the front door, taking time to inspect your familiar forever home, everything was perfect.

Perfect, Perfect, Perfect.

With familiar perfect colored walls and perfect sized windows. Yet before you can do much more, someone knocks. Once, then twice, before a final three times. Each knock following a musical pattern, that makes you bound happily on each step as you open the door. The sun is bright and shining, the birds always singing as you come face to face with someone you immediately know.

"Hi Neighbor!"

"Wally Darling!" You call his name, like you would an old friend, since that's what he is! Your best friend, your closest friend in the whole wide world. He matches your happiness, tipping his head to you as he elegantly bows, "the one and only."

You smile widens at his antics, watching him stand again and straighten out his blue cardigan, fixing the yellow buttons to all line orderly. "Welcome Home, Neighbor! Now, let us not dilly dally, the others are excited to finally meet you!" He gives you no other second, taking your arm in his as he ushers you out of the house. He walks you down the familiar roads, pointing out all of your neighbor houses, and all the interesting things to do throughout the day.

Things you're familiar with, things you've done before.

"Wally! And Neighbor!" Before you can react, a big ball of blue takes over your vision, lifting out off your feet and hugging you, voices all shouting in chorus, one you've heard before.

"Welcome go the Neighborhood!!"

Time and Time again.

There's a certain unease that follows. Another tally. That lingers behind you like a shadow after every step you take in your ruby red shoes. Another tally. A feeling that tells you over and over and over and over, that something isn't right. Another tally. He isn't right.

You aren't right.

These blue shiny shoes aren't yours. Another tally.

These glittery hair pens don't belong to you. Another tally.

These eyes. This hair. These clothes. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This is you. This is you. This is you. This is you. This is you.

'How many more times must we do this, neighbor?'

It was a mere accident, ripping up the wall paper behind your night stand, revealing the large wall filled tally marks. Each line ffranti, hazardously marked as if whoever wrote them was doing so quickly, with escape written in messy letters.

This is how it always begins. Every time you find this wall, every time you see the tally marks, a tally mark you once drew, you remember. You're trapped and must escape.

"No matter how many times we do this, you always remember... I don't understand why you want to leave, Neighbor."

Wally stands in your bedroom doorway, shoulders slack, as he lets out a sigh, his smile returning. "But it's okay Neighbor! You must really love this game. And I'll keep playing until your absolutely satisfied!"

He steps to the side, waving out his arm to you, motioning towards the open door, to the open exit.

And you run.

Another tally.

#t.manor.horror.stories #yandere welcome home x reader #yandere welcome home #yandere wally darling x reader #yandere wally darling #wally darling welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home #welcome home x reader

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sweetlypunk · 6 months

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LAST KISS. — DICK GRAYSON

it was a broken love you never thought you’d lose. dick grayson just became another ‘last’ in your life. inspired by last kiss from taylor swift.

You laid in your bed, past midnight with the moonlight filtering through the window into the darkness of the room. Looking at the wall as tears fell down, wetting the pillow with salty water, you remembered nights like this with him. Looking at him as you lazily smiled at him, the look on his face so hypnotizing, him whispering sweet nothings in the space between.

what happened? How did all that went away? How did I love you became a whisper in the atmosphere that left as a fever dream?

You’ve always loved the rain. The sweet fresh smell of the water on the pavement, as the final droplets fell. Looking out the window and enjoying the show of a shower outside while you stayed in the warm from inside; the warm he would provide. Going out holding his hand mid july, as the rain fresh air hit your face and you breathed in the smell. Your boots fell in time with his, both walking aimlessly through the park as you feel his heartbeat against your ear when he puts his arms around you, pushing you towards his chest to leave a kiss on your head.

But all that fades away when the rain roars past the window as you sit in the living room floor with the clothes he left at your home. Looking outside knowing you don’t actually know anything at all. Wondering if he would be thinking of you; realizing you have no idea how to be something he will ever miss.

what if you were always just a passing love to him?

Because you’d never imagine it would end like this, or that it would end at all and you would be left missing bits of him.

Because you remember going out with him, the swinging of his step as he followed the music. The life of the party who loved the attention, showing off again as you roll your eyes with a smile on your face. He would grin at you as he softly held your hand, pulling you in even when you’re not much for dancing. But that didn’t matter because for him, you would always follow in.

Because you liked his strong grip, his hands on your waist, holding you in. His confident handshake, when he met your father. You loved how he walked with his hands in his pockets, pouting when you didn’t let him hold yours in there as well. How he would kiss you when you were in the middle of saying something, you frowning at him when he went to peck your lips again. There is not a day in which you miss such rude interruptions.

But now you watch how his life goes through pictures, scrolling on your phone and watching him now dance alone—or more like dancing without you—showing off. You watch what everyone posts, guessing what pictures tell. Watching him from afar as you used to watch him sleep—soft breathes as his arm held onto you, raven black hair falling delicately on his face. You feel him forgetting as you used to feel his breath on the back of your neck. You keep up with the old friend group, the team, hoping to get a scrap of information of how he is, hoping it’s nice where he stands. Still wishing him the best no matter what.

You hope the sun shines down on his skin, a beautiful day waiting ahead. You hope he feels the daylight bath him and he is reminded of you. That when he goes out into the sunny day, sunlight burning his skin, he sees something that reminds him of you. Like how you would go walk to the park and you would close your eyes, letting the light delicately caress your face as you look up, feeling warm in de the sky. How he would look at you and snap a picture as you turned and grinned at him, looking at his crazy baby blue eyes that made you feel so safe. You hope he will be reminded of you and realize you are not there, making him think how much he wished he had stayed.

Because he can plan to make a change about the weather, he can plan to make a change about the time. He can look at the cloudy sky and come with something better, and he could look at the clock and plan to save time. You could guess he would always change the day and time, but you never planned for him to change his mind.

To change his mind about you.

So you’ll go and let him go. Mascara smearing down your face as you sit on the hardwood floors with his old clothes on. Tears falling as waterfalls because the only thing you’ll ever know is that you don’t know how to be something he’ll ever miss.

You never thought that you’d have a last kiss, that dick grayson’s lips would graze yours for one last time. You’d never imagine that your history would stop so abruptly and you’d end like this. His name forever marked down on your lips.

Just like your last kiss, his voice became a ghost in your ears. Just like your last kiss, his breath became a scar on your skin. Just like your last kiss, his watercolor eyes became a haunted dream.

Just like your last, Dick Grayson was forever the name on your lips.

#i love a good old dick grayson angst #i was sick writing this btw my frustrations had to go somewhere #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #dick grayson angst #nightwing #sweet writes

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clusterbuck · 1 year

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17 before they’re together I’ll throw up

17. fixing the other persons clothes absentmindedly or like tucking their hair behind their ear U KNOW WHAT I MEAN THAT SOFT STUFF // i wrote this on a plane and only mostly remembered the prompt but it’s pretty much there yk

maddie and chimney get married on a sticky hot day in late july.

it requires considerable manoeuvring to find an available venue on a date where all of the 118’s A-shift can be spared to go to a wedding, and half the call centre too. several favours are called in, and more still promised, but it’s worth it for this: maddie, radiant as she walks down the makeshift aisle in her own backyard, jee-yun toddling along in front of her strewing flower petals from a wicker basket. chimney, standing under an arch wreathed with flowers and ivy, his eyes shining with tears at the sight of his soon-to-be wife and daughter.

buck stands across from chimney, ready to do his duty as maddie’s best man, and wonders if it’s possible to burst from secondhand joy. if it’s possible to feel so happy for someone else that your body can’t contain it, that it has to come spilling out somehow.

he turns to look out over the audience, their dearly beloved friends and family. everyone is watching maddie, the same shared joy on all their faces—

everyone except eddie, who’s looking back at buck.

buck catches eddie’s eye and eddie grins, a small, fleeting thing that’s meant for buck alone.

maddie reaches the end of the aisle, finally, and a stray tear slips down chimney’s cheek. they turn to face bobby, who gives them a warm smile before launching into his opening remarks.

the ceremony is short and to the point, but full of beauty all the same. maddie and chimney have written their own vows, and buck finds himself choked up, overwhelmed not only with happiness but with the relief of knowing that maddie gets to have this. that maddie gets a marriage that will be happy, and safe, and a husband who loves her more than she’d ever thought possible. a husband who will have her back through everything.

that maddie gets to be happy.

when the vows are official there is cheering, and then there is dinner, and dancing, and drinking. the evening goes by in a blur of glasses passed from hand to hand and songs that make buck beeline for the dance floor, grabbing the first available person to tug with him.

he dances with maddie, and with jee-yun balanced on top of his feet, and even convinces chimney for a song or two. he dances with hen, and with karen, and with hen and karen, and with just about everyone at the wedding, but somehow eddie never seems to be around for him to commandeer.

so buck does, in his slightly inebriated opinion, the only sensible thing, and goes to seek eddie out.

he finds him leaning against maddie and chimney’s back door, a few feet away from the rest of the celebrations, a wine glass held loosely in his hand. eddie looks up when buck’s footsteps approach, and the corner of his mouth curls into a hint of a smile.

“hey,” buck says, settling against the wall beside him. “hiding from something?”

eddie huffs. “not really,” he says, swishing the wine around in his glass but not taking a sip. “just taking a moment.”

“okay,” buck says. “how much more of a moment do you need?”

eddie raises his eyebrows, shooting him a sideways glance. “depends on what you’re about to say next.”

“you haven’t danced with me,” buck says. “i’ve danced with everyone else, but not you.”

eddie hums.

“you should come dance with me,” buck says, and tries not to let the words feel like anything more than they are.

eddie turns his head, still leaning against the wall. “i should?”

buck takes a step back towards the party and and holds out his hand. “yeah,” he says. “you should.”

eddie takes a moment to glance between buck’s face and his outstretched hand, but then his warm fingers slip into buck’s.

the music changes as they reach the dance floor, softening and slowing down. buck half expects—fears—that eddie will take a step back, that he’ll change his mind, but eddie just stands across from him and settles his hands on buck’s waist.

“i owe you a dance,” eddie says. “never specified what kind.”

buck puts his hands on eddie’s shoulders.

eddie wrinkles his nose. “this feels like a bad middle school dance,” he says, and for a moment buck thinks he’s going to step away again. but instead, eddie steps closer, and closer still, and buck’s arms go from chastely on his shoulders to wrapped around his neck.

“better,” eddie murmurs, from somewhere close to buck’s ear.

buck doesn’t know how long they stay there, swaying gently back and forth. his world narrows to the heat of eddie’s hands on the small of his back, the brush of eddie’s cheek against his, the warmth of eddie’s exhales by the back of his neck.

when they finally part, as if by some unspoken agreement, neither of them goes far. the space between them is measured in inches, or fractions of them, and eddie keeps his eyes fixed on buck’s, and buck thinks—

maybe.

eddie swallows, and buck thinks maybe he hasn’t been imagining the way eddie looks at him.

eddie lifts his hand, and buck holds his breath. he stays as still as possible, his eyes fixed on eddie’s hand, and he thinks maybe—

until eddie tugs at his collar, pulling his tie back into place.

“you were wonky,” eddie says.

“i—” buck starts, but he can’t seem to find any words to finish his sentence.

eddie just smiles. “ready to go home?”

“yeah,” buck breathes, and wonders if eddie means it the same way he does.

when eddie’s hand slips into his, buck thinks maybe he does.

soft prompts 💗

#911fic #buddie #buddie fic #ask emma #emma writes #tusera

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lavishl0ve · 7 months

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🩸Johhny Slaughter x Fem Reader🩸 (Part 2)

Part 2 continuation of my Part 1 Reader, I plan to make many more of these (which can also be read as a stand alone) but I heavily suggest reading the parts before these since I do reference some connections within previous parts! Again, these are my first fics and i’m not like an english major or whateva so i apologize if it isn’t perfect. Thank you and enjoy 🤩 (First part is on my page :)

Part 2: Scars

My dreams only remind me of the terror I wished to avoid. Ana screams echo throughout my head. I should have helped her, sacrificed myself. Maybe she could have been the one to escape. I curl into myself sitting on the rough mattress waiting, and waiting. Waiting for what? I’m not sure. May death have mercy and greet me with a cold kiss in my sleep. But death is late. I’ve lost count on how many days it's been, weeks? Each day that Johnny man swaps out my bandage, sometimes we exchange a few words but our encounters are usually in silence. With each encounter I grow with worry. Once the infection leaves my ankle is that when he’ll murder me? Oh god. Will I take Julie’s place on that meat hook..? I can’t think about it. I feel sick. Scratching interrupts my thoughts. That notifying sound of someone entering the basement, is it bad I was hoping it was Johnny? He was the only family member presenting some type of remorse or maybe it was just his job to make sure their food isn’t contaminated. Their. Food. I shake the thought. Sissy treds over and suddenly I'm disappointed. Better her than that cook though, last time he brought me food he spat in it. Safe to say I didn’t eat it. Not that the food is good anyways. She slides the plate under the small gap the bars have.

“Here Sugar.”

I look up at her giving her a small nod. Maybe I would have smiled if it wasn’t the same stew as always. But it’s better than starving…right? She stands for a moment watching me and sits down. I stare reluctantly at her.

“Go on, you’ll like it today. I made it.” She giggled.

Scooting forward I grasp the plate. It’s hot today. I take a small portion of the meat and take a bite. I chew once then twice. It’s incredibly tough, I let it linger in the back of my mouth acting like I swallowed it. She laughs again.

“How’s that red headed friend of yours taste?”

She mocks me poiking her razor blade through the bar so that it's mere inches from my face. I spit the chewed meat at her,

“You fucking monster!” I yell and I throw my plate at her.

shards of porcelain shatter on the floor from the impact, a few shards cutting her stew stained face.

She grabs my shirt through the bar hitting my head against the iron bars

“You fuckin’ bitch.” She screams, shaking me against the bars.

She takes her razor blade and slices right underneath my left eye.

“Eye for a fuckin’ eye.” she scowls, “Next time it’ll be more than that.”

She throws me on the ground, some of the chipped porcelain pieces cutting my legs. She leaves. I occupy my time picking the shards out of my legs.

—————————————————————-

I wake up to the thud of his boots approaching. Death had not visited me tonight. Unless Johnny is death. I see him walk towards the cell looking at the shards on the ground. He groans. Maybe he knows what happened. Entering, I face toward the opposite wall hiding the cut Sissy had given me. Maybe I'll just let this one get infected and die. He sits on the mattress right next to me removing the same compact tin and gauze again. I refuse to face him. He takes my ankle and unwraps the gauze himself.

“It’s better.” He remarks.

He goes through the daily process , applying the topical cream, then wrapping it up. He sighs.

“You’se alright sweetheart?” He questions.

“Don’t let er’ scare you.” He glances over left toward my face.

He saw the dried blood that had ran along my cheek. He grabs my chin with two fingers and turns my head to see the cut better.

“Fuckin’ Sissy.” He hissed through his teeth.

Johnny rose and stomped out the basement without another word. You didn’t hear the scratch of the door close though. Maybe this is my time to escape! But how the hell will I get out? I reach outside the bars fumbling with the lock. Impossible without a key… or a bobby pin. Digging into your messy hair hoping to find a remaining pin you used the day you guys got caught. It took some time but it was there. I unfold the bobby pin and inserting it into the lock trying to hear those “clicks” Connie talks about. I was never as good as Connie, although she tried to teach me, I had always got frustrated. I twist around the pin, unable to hear the noise. I click my tongue in frustration. I try to remove the pin, trying to restart. It snaps. Fuck. You throw the pin on the ground and sit back against the cold wall.

Johnny yells, “The hell you do to er’ Sissy?”

“She jus’ needed a lil’ lesson Johnny.” She replies, “Was actin’ like a bitch.”

Some words were muffled, at the end of their argument Johnny's words were loud enough to echo throughout the whole house.

“Don’t cha’ go on touchin’ my fuckin’ things Sissy!” he yells, “Or ya’ gonna get it worse than er’.”

You hear a door slam.

——————————————————————

The next morning you awaken to Johnny banging on the cell.

“Wake up.”

I rub my eyes, vision coming into view. Johnny unlocks the cell and grabs your wrist.

“Cmon’.”

“What- where are we going?” you ask.

You’ve never been out of the cell. Is this the end of your demise? Johnny clecthes some sort of emerald green fabric in his left hand. He leads you throughout the house towards the back walking through the kitchen, the sink stained red at the glance you get. We step outside, it’s still dark out, my bare feet touch the grass and I breathe in the fresh air. Finally, a nice change. He leads you toward the same shed which you first encountered him in. Pulling the switch on to turn on the lights you make out the space. Some kinda workshop of his I assume. He walks you through the side door which opens toward the back. He shoves a hose into your hand.

“Clean yourself off.”

Stunned you just stare at him, you can’t see much since the darkness covers his face. You wait.

“You gonna turn around…?” I ask uncomfortably.

“I gotta make sure you don’t run away sweetheart.”

You feel your cheeks blush, but you can’t resist a shower. (A somewhat shower). You walk a few steps from him. Facing away, you take off your shirt, then your underwear. Since you can’t see him he surely can’t see you right? At least that’s what you tell yourself. You turn the knob right and the cold water splashes immediately at your feet. You whince at the sudden shock, Johhny laughs under his breath.

“It ain’t gettin’ any hotter, make it quick.”

I suck it up and point the hose over my head dousing my hair, I bite the inside of you cheek. The water runs down my spine. I coat my hair, wash the dried blood off my cheek, thighs and scrap the stew remanents off on hands. Wow how I miss warm showers. I look back towards johnny he leans against the barn, cigarette in mouth, he glances back over like he knew I was watching him. I turned around finishing my “shower”. As I turned the knob off I hear johnny shift off the shed wall.

“ ere’.” He say’s cigarette in mouth.

He throws me the emerald cloth he’s been holding. I unfold it revealing some short dress. Probably Sissy’s. I pull the fabric over my head, then squeeze out the excess water in my hair. I walk back towards Johnny.

“So,” I pause, “Back to the cellar now?” I shrug.

“Naw’.” He throws the cigarette to the ground grinding it with his boot.

I’m taken aback as he walks away, I assume he intends I follow him. I quicken my steps with little hops and skips, the dirt collecting on my wet feet.

“Where we going?” I ask quickening my pace trying to catch up with him.

Johnnys strides are long, almost double mine. I skip every now and then just to catch up. He stays silent to my question. As we approach some junkyard filled a bunch of old rusted cars Johnny strides over to the back of an truck and puts down the cargo-bed hopping on the edge as he pulls out another cigarette. I stand there, what do I do? I take a moment then just decide to do the same, dangling my feet as he stares . He offers me the box,

“Oh no, I don’t-“

He nods and snatches the box away back into his pocket. The sun rises over the horizon painting his face a lovely orange and golden color. I study Johnny more in depth, his dark eyes stare into the sunset. Wow. Am I crazy? Or is he strangely attractive. A piece of his slicked hair falls in front of his face as he leans down towards his red lighter igniting his cigarette. His nose is so perfectly straight, jaw, hand sculpted. No Y/N stop. This is insane. I avert my attention towards the sunset hoping it’d change my thoughts but it can’t. I can feel him staring at me. He drops his head back down holding his cigarette between his legs as his forearms rest on his thighs. His forearms. I glance at them. Scar-covered. I decide to break the silence.

“How’d you get those?”

He scoffs, “Which ones?”

“These.” I trace the scars on his upper bicep.

“Barfight.” he mutters puffing his smoke again.

“Well… you’d win?”

He scoffs, “I always~ win Darlin’.”

The way he dragged out his S sent me into spiral. What is wrong with me?

“What about this?” I ask pointing to his left hand.

“Nubbins. He’d always set up traps when we ‘er kids.” He pauses, “Left a pretty good god damn mark.”

I nod agreeing with him.

“I’d suppose yours will leave more though’.” He winks and nods toward my ankle.

I purse my lips together.

“How about this one?” I ask moving his strand of hair, hinting at the scar going down his eye.

His eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t answer. Serious subject. We sit there for a minute.

“My Maw’…”

We stare at each other for a moment. His puffs the cigarette again, jumping off the cargo-bed. Did I fuck this up?

“We outta go back inside before they know I brought chu’ out.”

I jump down, “Back to the cellar?” I sigh.

A simple Mhmm rumbles between his lips. I look back towards the sunrise soaking up each ounce I could receive. Who knows if this is my last time seeing the sun, let alone the sun rise. But in the end, I guess beautiful things aren’t meant to last.

#johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #tcm game #tcm #johnny slaughter x reader #fic writing #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny sawyer #johnny x reader

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crappymixtape · 1 year

Text

you gotta help me, baby

even though you could definitely apply for any other job at the mall or stupid family video it still wouldn’t pay as much as babysitting does, but god you’re one more spilled tray of food on the floor from quitting until your boyfriend shows up to save the day | ( 2.3k, modern!day au, fluff, established relationship, steve x you, steve x reader ) REQUEST ↪ nonny, i hope your babysitting goes okay and even if it feels like it sucks i know you got this!! ♥️

Y O U G O T T A H E L P M E, B A B Y 🎶 manly man, delacey & emily weisband

You were covered in it. What it was you didn’t know, but between the spilled bottles, thrown food and horribly executed idea of finger painting you reckoned you looked a mess. You would’ve brought the kid to the park just down the street, but it was way too hot. July sun beating down and turning the slide into something that would melt off the backs of your thighs the second you touched it.

And the only thing that made this shit tolerable, the only person that kept you sane these long days, was working overtime and every time you checked your phone it stared up at you blankly.

No notifications. You’d open your messages. No little blinking dots. Nothing. Nada. Why you??

Fingers swiping across your screen you texted Robin, begging her for the fifth time to please let your boyfriend leave early, but you heard it before it happened.

A squeal of delight and then the splat of chocolate pudding all over your phone and hands and bare legs and shirt and–

“Yummy!” the little girl kicked her feet happily in her high chair as you dragged your eyes up from your lap and tried to smile. She was 2. Of course Bea was throwing pudding across the room, but you were at your wit’s end and your chest squeezed with the thought of having to clean up again.

“It’s only pudding,” you muttered under your breath, screwing your eyes shut, trying to count to ten until a knock on the door shook you from your attempt at calming down.

Were they home already? There was no way.

Getting up from the table you swiped an already messy washcloth across Bea’s face, ignoring the abysmal state that you were in, and hurried to the entryway. Pushing yourself up on tip toe you looked through the little peephole in the door and the sight of what was on the other side nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“Oh thank god,” you unlocked and yanked the door open, nearly throwing your arms around Steve’s neck, but stopped short when you remembered the pudding.

You were a sight. Cheeks dotted with red and blue and green paint, white shirt covered in chocolate and cut-off shorts splattered with…was it macaroni? Steve’s first reaction was to laugh, but the look on your face made him soften and he gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Awh, baby. That bad?” he asked, hands reaching out to tug your hips into him by your pockets despite the mess all over you and you melted into his chest. Your mmhm was muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt and he tsked gently. Poor you. Glancing over your shoulder he saw Bea in her highchair, still kicking her feet happily and giving a little squeal at the sight of him.

“Stee!” she shrieked and Steve laughed.

“Hi, Bea,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and walked you slowly backwards into the house to keep the heat out. “Are you havin’ fun today?” he asked and she giggled.

“Yummy,” she said and put a chocolatey hand to her mouth then stuck it back out to him, offering to share.

“Oh! Wow, that does look good,” pulling his hands from your pockets he tucked away the hair that had fallen into your face. “Why don’t you go take a minute, babe. I got this,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to your cheek before stepping around you to take the washcloth off the table. “Bea, I gotta say, this looks like the best pudding ever made,” he tutted a bit as he wiped more chocolate from her cheeks, her nose, her chubby little hands and suddenly everything felt so much easier.

“Yes, yes!” she squealed and he laughed.

Steve turned to tidy up your chair, muscles in his arm pulling and flexing as he moved, and your cheeks warmed at the sight of him. Hair a bit messy from the open windows on his car, skin golden and warm like it held all of summer under it and dotted with new freckles from sitting out by the pool yesterday.

You could watch him all day, but you needed a second for yourself more and so you hurried down the hallway to the bathroom.

Of course you were good with kids, why else would you have taken the job? But some days were harder than others. Some days the screaming was endless and nothing you did could make the tears stop.

Teething, skipped naps, overtired and hungry or wanting mama and it made you feel like maybe you weren’t good at it. Maybe you should work at the mall. Maybe your dream of kids of your own was too much, maybe you wouldn't be a good mom, but then Steve would show up.

Your second wind. Your cheerleader.

Your lifesaver.

He’d tell you it was okay, everyone gets frustrated. Everyone has a breaking point. Just take a minute for yourself. Take a break from the crying. I got this. I can handle it and when you come back you’ll feel so much better, baby.

I love you, baby.

You’d wiped the paint from your cheeks, cleaned the chocolate from your legs and hands, took a few deep breaths and resigned yourself to the fact that your shirt and shorts were brown and orange now and that was that.

Splashed cold water on your face and redid your ponytail and when you looked back in the mirror you were surprised at how refreshed you looked. You weren’t back to 100%, but it was much better than before and when you opened the bathroom door you could hear Steve talking to Bea.

“So it’s a show about a dog family, huh?”

“Yes! Booey and Bingo! And mum and dad!”

You quietly walked down the hallway and leaned against the opening into the kitchen, watching for a just a minute as Steve sat at the table. Elbow leaning on Bea’s highchair tray and free hand feeding her pudding neatly from a spoon.

“And what’s dad say?”

“Cheeky kids!”

“Cheeky kids, huh?” Steve laughed, “Sounds very British. You’ve got sophisticated tastes, my friend.”

A smile tugged up at the corners of your lips as your chest squeezed again, but this time with something different. Not anxiety or stress or worry, but affection. Care. Love. God you loved this boy. So damn much and when he turned to look over his shoulder at you, you bit your lips between your teeth. Caught, but he didn’t care. He gave you smile, a little smug and a lot fond, and then turned back to Bea.

“Think it’s gonna be time for a nap soon, Bea,” he said, tone firm, but caring and the little girl scrunched her nose up. “I know, seems boring but–” he stood and took her bib off before lifting her gently from her highchair, “–I bet you’ll get to read a book first, hm? That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, we could read Owl Babies, Bea,” you chimed in, finally coming out from your hiding spot and the toddler’s eyes lit up at the sight of you.

“Yes! Yes! Blankie? And snuggles,” she said, squirming in Steve’s hold and making grabby hands at you. He chuckled and passed her off, brushing his thumb soft across your cheek, eyes only for you. Warm amber, burnt caramel, flecks of green and gold and you mouthed a thank you.

“Night, Bea. See you when you wake up,” he said, messing her hair a little as she let loose a big yawn.

“Nigh-nigh, Stee,” her little voice was sleepy now and when you turned to go up the stairs he mouthed an I love you, smile lopsided and just a little smug. Anticipating his favorite time of day. Bea’s nap and getting you all to himself on the couch for a couple of hours and he could hardly wait to get his hands on you, chocolate shorts and all.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve fanfic #steve x reader #steve x fem #steve harrington fic #makeacrappymixtape #requests #asks

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sheisburiedhere · 1 year

Text

Welcome Neighbor

Chapter One: I'm... Sweetie

Paring: Wally darling x Y/N Sweetheart

Warnings: nothing to worry about neighbors at least...not as yet.

The Darkness

It feels as if it's consuming you as it drags you to the depths of it's unknown ,blocking your vision, clouding your memory, stripping you of your identity. You try to scream but no sound can be heard as your throat fill with intense heat and smoke after every attempt. You close your eyes. You're relentless, you won't stop , someone will help you, you just need to keep on trying ...

The Light

For a moment all is quiet as your screams cease, whatever had it's grasp on you decided to let you go.You feel warmth on top you and a gentle cold below. You hear the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves,you frown your eyebrows wondering where could you be but scared to open your eyes. You muster all courage that's in you and open them to see...

A yellow brick road that surrounds various houses each with very distinct colours and designs. You spin around to observe the rest of your surroundings realising you are on the floor, you push yourself up to stand with both of your hands...

Your hands...

These aren't my...

A shiver goes up your spine...

Your hands are embroidered with a tiny heart on the palms,you look further up to realise your joints are covered in stitches of gold thread. You sweat slightly,as you watch down to see your in a red and white polka dot dress with white stockings and red flats. You instinctively pull out a mirror from your dress and look in disbelief at your reflection. Shiny skin and plump red red lips with your (h/c) hair in a half up bee hive. Your eyes falls on your neck as you see a heart shaped necklace with the word , 'Sweetheart'.

You take in everything that you see in the mirror as take notice of the one thing that raises your brows is your eyes...

Hazel brown heart shaped pupils of your eyes

...

You close the mirror and place it back in your skirt as the sound of footsteps approach you with a loud but friendly, " Hello!". You turn quickly and smile with realising that you are grasping on the something in your hand. "A suitcase huh," you thought to yourself , you turn towards them , taking a hand to wave and giving a great big smile. "Hi there!" You say still grinning,you are greeted by a excited puppet named Julie Joyful. "Oh my name is y/n Sweetheart but my friends call me Sweetie, I just moved here but I'm having a bit trouble finding my house"you tell her without having to think about. She grabs your hand to lead you to the house that is particularly new to their neighborhood,which looks just like your outfit. She talks alot then hugs you and leaves you there to unpack.

You smile , now you have a friend

...

Something is wrong...

How do I know this stuff...I have to remember me...

A knock interrupts your thoughts, you walk to the door and open it to see ,a tall attractive yellow puppet in a blue cardigan and rainbow striped pants. He has a red blush dusted on his cheeks and your eyes widen as you realise you have been staring him down. You cover your face in embarrassment apologizing to him," I am so so sorry," you exclaimed, he takes your hand and smile, " It's really fine I had a quick look myself ,I hope you didn't mind" he chuckled rubbing the back of his neck, " I came to introduce myself to my new neighbor, My name is Wally darling," he says placing a what seems to be a kiss on your hand ,which was a him touching your hand with his mouth and making a muah sound. This made your heart melt and your body feel warm as you eyes turn to a shade red. "Oh! You have very beautiful eyes," he says in awe. You close them smiling not aware of the change and thank him. " Mines is y/n Sweetheart but call me Sweetie-" You open your eyes back up to see his pupils huge and black like a hungry cat seeing a bird

His eyes...

He reverts to it's previous state,as he asks "Would you like to for a walk around the neighborhood tomorrow and have a picnic with me? It will be a great opportunity to meet everyone"

You smile, "That would be very nice Wally, Thank you"

He bids you a good day as he leaves ,you close the door and rest your forehead on it smiling... forgetting your situation. You go to your bedroom and rest , dreaming about tomorrow.

Let's hope everything goes well...

"Welcome Home Neighbor," he chuckles watching you from his home window with his huge black eyes.

#wally darling #wally darling x you #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader #requests are welcome #welcome home

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 6 months

Text

Court Of Public Opinion - Andy Barber x Reader (Part 4)

A/N: This is the sequel series to Memory Served and will contain major spoilers for that series so go read that one first if you haven’t already!

Summary: As news breaks about who your abductor was, things get more complicated

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Angst! Language! Gas Lighting!

Dividers by me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 4

Staring up at the trees you watched as the small amount of light dabbled through the leaves, many of which were beginning to take on an orange hue. The last time you’d been in this part the path was covered in blossom, the sweet smell of spring wafting through the air. Now dead leaves littered the floor, the air was turning chilly.

You had missed the entirety of summer. You didn’t see all the kids out on summer break running around and playing. You didn’t see the many, many barbeques that filled the park during the 4th of July weekend. You experienced a summer, but not the summer you knew.

“I’m so glad my nausea is gone but dog shit is gross at the worst of times” Carrie grumbled as she stepped back towards you.

You shook your head slightly to rid yourself of the fog that clouded your mind “Oh sorry I should have offered” You apologise.

Carrie gives you a small kind smile “It’s okay, I could tell you needed space for a moment”

You let out a long guilty sigh as you look down at your feet, kicking some of the leaves “I’m sorry” you apologise.

“Nope, we aren’t doing any of that apologising bullshit,” Carrie says looping her arm through yours as you began to walk “I get it, what happened doesn’t just go away and if you need to talk about whatever you were just thinking about then we got you” she continues nodding down to Nova who wagged her tail.

“I was just-” you start before taking a deep breath “It's weird, to me this place has gone from spring to autumn, there’s a whole four months missing, but I remember summer I was just another person… I dunno I don’t think I’m explaining it well” you sigh shaking your head.

“No I get it, I understand how disorientating it must be, coming back and so much has changed in an instant, it’s like you time-travelled or got stuck in a quantum realm or something” Carrie reassures you.

You couldn’t help but let out a small snort “Quantum realm?” you questioned to which she let out a long and dramatic sigh.

“Harrison won’t let me watch Rom-coms or anything like that because I’m getting too emotional and it’s not fair on him to constantly console me, which I get, I’m a fucking mess at the moment because of these hormones, I cried at a diaper advert yesterday” she explains.

You bite your lips to stop yourself from laughing “A diaper advert?”

“It had a cute baby which made me excited for our cute baby and then sad because it’s still ages until we meet our cute baby” Carries explains making you chuckle “Anyway, so in the meantime we’ve settled on sci-fi movies, they’re not that bad to be honest”

You could no longer hold back your laughter and a real smile appeared on your face “Well you’ll have to give me and Andy some recommendations” You smiled.

“I’ll have a list ready for your next date night” Carrie winks.

Your smile falters for a moment as your mind goes back to your date nights with Andy. Things had been getting better and it felt more normal but still just felt incredibly delicate. You felt like you were just waiting for the moment that he would break and the illusion would shatter. It was why you were trying so hard to be normal, stop letting the shadow of Ransom loom over you. Because in those normal moments, Andy still loved you, you weren’t tainted if he could forget what happened for just a moment then the chances of him leaving you were smaller.

You clear your throat as you pick a straw fibre from your jacket sleeve “Thank you, so what are you planning to do for Halloween?” you ask desperate to change the topic.

Carrie’s eyes instantly lit up because Halloween was her favourite time of the year, she and Harrison always killed it with their costumes. You and Andy tried to compete one year but it was pointless, Carrie and Harrison were the king and queen of Halloween. She then goes on to explain in great detail that the party is called ‘things that go bump in the night’ and that her costume is Kane from Alien.

As she talked you tried to focus on everything she was saying but you began to feel your ears burn and gazes on your back. You glanced over your shoulder a couple of times to see a pair of joggers behind you whispering, they both quickly jog past the two of you though. You shake your head slightly, they were probably just keeping their own conversation low as they passed you so they weren’t rude, not because they were talking about you.

You returned your attention back to Carrie and her elaborate plans to decorate her house for the party. However, you began to notice more people sparing glances your way as they passed by. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up from all the attention.

You knew it was inevitable though, this was a small town so people talked, you were still the big news story. You were just glad it seemed to be getting better though, people were calling by the house less. You preferred curious glances over continual questions and having to relive it all over and over again, putting on a brave face when all you wanted to do was tell them to fuck off and mind their own business.

“Oh and we got Nova the coolest spider costume too, you know from that viral video” Carrie continued.

You were about to respond when two teenage girls just appeared out of nowhere in front of you “Oh my god it’s you! You have to tell us everything about him!” One of them said, starstruck looks in their eyes.

You and Carrie exchanged a confused glance, even Nova tilted her head “I’m sorry who?” You ask.

“Harlan Thrombey!” The other girl exclaims, one of Harlan’s books now obvious in her hand.

“Oh… I um-“ you stutter taken aback “he was nice, I only met him a few times”

The girls in front of you continue to fangirl, bombarding you with questions that left both you and Carrie in a state of shock.

“Did he tell you about his new book?”

“What about that Netflix series?”

“Is it true he has a massive collection of knives?”

“Who does he think the watcher is?”

“And ohmygod his Grandson Ransom is so hot! What was he like? I bet he’s so dreamy!”

That last question snapped both you and Carrie out of your shocked states. It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on you, while you could practically feel the heat of Carrie’s anger.

“Excuse me? You do know he abducted her and held her against her will?” Carrie seethes.

“How- how did you even know?” You mutter feeling your stomach turning.

“They announced it on the news this morning,” one of the girls said with a look that said ‘obviously’.

Had you known that? You weren’t sure. The detectives must have let Andy know that they were going to finally name Ransom today. Had he told you last night or this morning and you had just blocked it out? Or had he purposely not told you because he hated that you were tied to Ransom?

“Honestly I don’t blame you, I couldn’t think of a man better than Ransom, he has the looks, the money, the family” the other girl continues and the hearts in her eyes made you want to vomit.

Carrie absolutely exploded after hearing that, she already had the protective mama bear instinct and being pregnant just made it so much stronger. You knew she was completely ripping into the two girls and letting them know exactly how wrong they were but you couldn’t hear her over the ringing in your ears.

You blinked a couple of times when you felt someone tugging your elbow. Your vision refocused and you could see the girls were long gone and Carrie was leading you out of the park and back home. As you walked the ringing in your ears slowly began to subside and be replaced with Carrie muttering about how twisted those girls must be to see Ransom as a hero.

“You okay?” Carrie then asked fully snapping you back into the moment.

You blinked a couple of times and realised you were back home, standing outside your front door. Carrie must have been waiting for you to unlock it when she noticed you weren’t completely there.

“Yeah,” you managed to say fishing your keys from your pocket and unlocking the door.

“Don’t listen to those girls okay, they’re clearly just crime fanatics who refuse to see their hero as the person they really are” Carrie tells you as she follows you into the house, letting Nova off her lead.

You just nod as you walk into the kitchen. As you pass the island you spot a note from Andy saying he’s gone out for groceries and to donate the last of the pasta dishes to the homeless shelter. You breathed out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t in, you didn’t want him to hear about what had just happened. What happened wasn’t normal, you needed normal.

“Do you want me to call Andy?” Carrie then asks gently.

You shake your head “No it's okay” you tell her “I’m fine, he’ll just worry and come straight home when he doesn’t need to”

“Okay, are you sure you’re okay? It's okay if you’re not” Carrie reminds you.

You force a brave smile “Yeah it just threw me that's all like you said they’re immature girls with an unhealthy obsession with a celebrity” you tell her “I just have to remember I have the evidence on my side”

Carrie gives you a proud smile “Exactly, no amount of fangirls will be able to protect him” she says as she wraps her arm around you.

“Thank you though for getting me out, standing in my corner and getting me home,” you tell her with a grateful smile.

“It's nothing just give me and Nova a shout whenever you need it, I should probably get her home now but if you need us to stay we can stay” Carrie offers as she scratches Nova behind the ear.

“No I’m good, you get on home so Nova can have her post-walk treat” You smile down at Nova who was wagging her tail excitedly.

“Oh yes can’t forget about that” Carrie grinned as she put Nova back on the leash.

You follow Carrie back to the front door, as you did so you thought back to those girls in the park. If Andy had been there it would have gone down so much worse, hearing about how people fawned over Ransom, remind him of how you’d been with him, slept with him. You didn’t want those reminders.

“Don’t tell Andy about today” you suddenly say as Carrie opens the door.

Carrie freezes and looks back over at you, her eyes studying you for a moment “I won’t but… I think you should” she says gently

“I will I promise, I just want it to come from me” you lied, you would avoid telling him for as long as possible.

“Good,” Carrie says watching you for another moment before smiling “Just ring me when you need me”

“I will thank you” You smile giving her a small wave before closing the door and heading back to the kitchen.

You moved to make yourself a warm drink to warm yourself back up but then spotted a pile of mail beside the note Andy had left. One of the jobs that had kept you busy was going through all the mail that you missed while you were gone. Andy had already sorted the bills you had but there was still lots left over so dealing with mail as it came helped.

Flipping through the pile you saw a lot of it was for Andy anyway but at the end was a letter for you. When you saw the handwriting you instantly felt sick, your legs feeling weak as you just about managed to sit down. It was Ransom’s handwriting.

Your first instinct was to call Andy but just as you reached for your phone you froze. You had no idea what was in this letter, it could be a confession, a threat, or it could detail everything you did with Ransom. You knew that Ransom liked to play mind games, he would want to get under Andy’s skin.

No, you needed to find out what was in here first, then you would decide if you would show Andy or not. With shaking hands, you ripped open the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Kitten,

I don’t understand what happened. I thought you were happier. Happier with me. I’ve been lied to all my life by my parents, I know how to spot a lie. So I know it wasn’t a lie when you told me you loved me. I’m sorry though I should have told you the truth, but when they told me that you lost your memory I saw my chance. You promised you were going to leave him anyway so I thought that it would be easier for you if I didn’t remind you of him. I see now that it was wrong and I’m sorry, we can fix this and get through this together. I can’t wait to have you back in my arms, my house, my bed, where you belong. I love you kitten and I won’t stop fighting for us.

Love Ransom x

The letter fell out of your hands as you stumbled back struggling to take a breath. Your hand cupped your mouth as you gagged, your legs feeling weak. You couldn’t believe the lies Ransom was trying to sell, how he was trying to convince you that he was telling the truth. You would never leave Andy, not for anyone or any reason.

You couldn’t show this to Andy, you couldn’t have Ransom’s lies poisoning him. You could already feel the doubts and the hesitancy, you couldn’t make it worse by showing him a letter that would remind him of all the horrible things you did.

You had to act fast, you had no clue when he’d be home, you had to destroy this letter. Your hands were still shaking as you picked the letter back up and rushed over to the fireplace. Grabbing some kindling you got the fire going, using a match to set the letter alight and throw it into the fire.

A heavy feeling settled in your gut as you watched the letter burn. It was guilt, guilt that you were even in this position to begin with, the guilt of all the things you did with Ransom, guilt that you were hiding this from Andy. You thought for a second that maybe you should have shown it to him, the police could have done something, but it was too late the letter was just ash now.

The sound of the front door opening had you quickly standing up, Andy poked his head into the living room his brows furrowed slightly “Why’s the fire going?” he asked.

“Oh um it was quite cold after the walk with Carrie so I thought I’d make it nice and cosy” you lied brushing dust off of your hands.

A smile tugs at Andy’s lips “Sounds nice, let me put this away and I’ll make us some hot drinks too” he offers.

“Sounds great,” you say with a sigh of relief that he didn’t question it further, he gives you another smile before going to step away.

All of sudden you considered telling him the truth even calling out to stop him, but when he looked back at you his brows now furrowed slightly in concern you couldn't do it. So instead you walked the short distance towards him, gently cupping his cheek and reaching up to kiss him.

“I love you Andy” you whisper.

Andy tilts his head slightly but still smiles “I love you too honey” he says softly.

Andy let out a long sigh as he set another pasta dish on the draining board to dry only to look over and see so many more left to wash. He’d finally managed to get on top of all the food the neighbours had been dropping around, he took most of the excess to the homeless shelter, some were still in the freezer and the rest had been eaten. He swore if he ever saw another pasta dish for the rest of his life it would be too soon.

He decided to leave it there for now, the draining board was full anyway, grabbing a cloth he began to dry his hands. As he did so his eyes landed on his laptop, he’d been trying not to do much work on the case since all it did was make him feel angry and inadequate. Every time you’d seen him work on it too he could see the look of sadness in your eyes.

But you were out today, over at Carrie’s for the afternoon so it would be the perfect opportunity to do it. Maybe he could continue looking into businesses that were near the site of your crash, ask if any of their employees had seen a damaged car drive past.

He was just making his way around the kitchen island to his laptop when his phone started ringing. He paused throwing the towel on the counter before grabbing his phone and pulling it out to see it was Frank calling him.

Andy didn’t even get a chance to say hello before Frank was ranting down the phone at him “Whoa, whoa, Frank slow down I can’t hear you, what are you saying?” Andy says plugging his other ear trying to hear Frank better.

He heard Frank take a deep breath before starting again “I just picked Mary up from her university class and she’s in an absolute state over Y/N” Frank explains.

Andy’s brows furrow in concern “What? Why?” he asks.

“Some kids in class were talking about Y/N and she got all upset over it, Mary still hasn’t told me exactly what they said but she said it was mean and they said Y/N must be lying” Frank explains.

“Shit is Mary okay now?” Andy curses running his hand down his face.

“She’s calmed down a bit now but she was in floods of tears when I picked her up, I hadn’t told her much about the case because she’s only 8 but I had to explain it all to help her understand it, now she’s upset and wants to talk to Y/N” Frank explains with a heavy sigh.

“Sure, Y/N’s out with Carrie at the moment but tell Mary that she’ll call as soon as she gets home” Andy promises, worrying about how you’d feel having to talk about all this with Mary.

“Thanks, I just can’t believe the nerve of those girls how did they even come to that conclusion…shit” Frank mutters “Have you watched Fox News today?”

“No we don’t watch that bullshit, do you?” Andy huffs shaking his head.

“No but I just turned the TV on and you might want to turn it on, I think I’ve found out why those girls said what they did” Frank says.

Andy frowns walking into the living room and turning on the TV, he quickly changes the channel to Fox News a curse falling from his lips when he sees what Frank meant. Fox News was doing a report on your case but it wasn’t complimentary towards you. The anchors were discussing the case and how they just couldn’t believe Ransom would do what he did. It only got worse when they cut to an interview with Ransom’s parents.

“So what did you make of the allegations?” the broadcaster asked.

Linda shook her head “Unbelievable, my son would never do anything like that” she said playing the part of a shocked parent well.

“Ransom may have made some mistakes when he was younger but he’s not a criminal, he loved Y/N” Richard continues rubbing Linda’s back soothingly.

“So you don’t believe Ransom held Y/N captive against her will?” The broadcaster asks.

“No, she was never held against her will” Linda states with a definitive shake of her head “That’s all lies she’s told”

“When we first met her we were suspicious of her, the romance was such a whirlwind with her pushing Ransom to get married, but we said nothing because he was so in love with her” Richard adds “Now our poor son is in jail for a crime he didn’t commit”

“What the fuck is all bullshit! They can’t be saying this can they?” Frank exclaims.

“It's not a police interview or court testimony so yeah they can” Andy grumbles barely containing his anger.

“So what is Ransom’s side of the story?” The broadcaster asks leaning forward.

“He’s still not entirely sure what happened, he said they got into a fight and he threatened to call off the wedding and that’s when Y/N stormed out of the house and went to the police and made up this whole story about him abducting her, claiming he used her amnesia against her” Linda exclaims, dabbing her dry eye with a tissue “I knew she only wanted him for his money, we’ve told him this and he still loves her”

“Amnesia?” the broadcaster presses.

“Yes 4 months ago Y/N was in a terrible accident and lost her memory, she was already planning to leave her partner Andy Barber so Ransom thought it would be easier on her to just pretend she already had” Richard explains with a long sigh “he explained it all in this letter” he adds leaning forward to pass the broadcaster the letter.

“I can’t believe this, god this family is fucked up” Frank mutters but Andy wasn’t paying him much attention.

All Andy could focus on were the letters now being shown by Fox News. All of them, while addressed to his parents, were love letters to you. It made Andy sick. He knew he shouldn't but he ended up pausing the screen on one of them to read the letter. He read the way Ransom lamented to his parents, how heartbroken he was. He was trying to win the court of public opinion and relying on his grandfather’s fanbase to do so, it must have already gone viral if Mary had heard about it.

The sound of the front door opening had Andy looking over his shoulder “I have to go” Andy muttered to Frank who was still ranting on when Andy hung up.

You had a small smile on your face when you walked in but as soon as your eyes landed on the TV it quickly faded “What is this?” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“Ransom’s parents went on Fox News to tell his side of the story, it’s ridiculous they must have some connection with the owner or something, they even gave them letters from Ransom” Andy explains with an irritated huff shaking his head, beginning to pace back and forth beginning to rant.

“How- how did they know about them?” you whispered.

It took Andy a moment to fully process what you said, and when he did he froze and slowly turned back around to face you “What do you mean how do they know about them?” he asks.

Your eyes widened and you took a small step back “I-I-I- um- I-” you stuttered suddenly getting really flustered.

Andy’s brows furrowed in confusion as he watched you stutter and panic, it was like when he caught a defendant out on the stand. He thought for a moment replaying what you said in the context of the letters, glancing up at the TV he could see that the letter he had paused on didn’t show who it was addressed to.

“Wait” Andy says holding out his hand “Have you been sent letters from Ransom?”

You start fiddling with your fingers, looking down at the floor. It was an answer already but Andy was still praying you hadn’t.

“Yes” you weakly whisper, not looking up from the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Andy exclaims in disbelief.

“I’m sorry I-I thought about it, I wanted to but I just couldn’t” you apologise.

Andy lets out an irritated huff, he was furious that Ransom had found a way to send letters to you. Prisoners were not allowed any communication with the victims, he must have found a loophole and gotten his parents to forward it on to you.

“Where are they? What did you do with them?” Andy demands, he needed to shut this down now by taking the letters to the police.

“I-I burnt the first-” you started before Andy interrupted.

“You burnt them!” he practically shouted in disbelief “Why would you do that? It’s evidence! They’re going to use this against you and say you have something to hide!”

“Andy I’m sorry i-i-” you stutter shaking your head.

“He’s already doing everything he can to try and get out of this! We can’t be giving him more ammunition!” Andy roars, his anger and fear getting the better of him.

“Please stop shouting- I’m sorry- I’m so so sorry” you sobbed completely breaking down.

Andy’s shoulders dropped as he watched you sob “shit” he muttered to himself walking over “I’m sorry honey I shouldn’t have shouted, I’m angry at him not you” he apologised wrapping his arms around you, breathing out a sigh of relief when you didn’t push him away.

“I regretted it straight away, I didn’t burn them all just the first, the rest I just hid” you admit looking up at him, tears still streaming down your face.

Andy let out a sigh of relief, they still had something to go to the police with “Okay, why didn’t you tell me about them?” he asked carefully.

You took a long, deep, shaky breath before answering “I- I didn’t want you to see them” you whispered.

Andy let out a long sigh “Okay, well we can take those ones to the police because this is witness intimidation and they can put a stop to it, take away his privileges, it’s all going to be okay I promise”

“They can?” you ask, doubt clear in your voice.

“Yes it’s all going to be okay I promise” Andy swears kissing the top of your head.

“Okay I’ll- I’ll go get them,” you say wiping away the last of your tears and stepping out of Andy’s embrace.

You felt sick as you made your way upstairs to the bedroom where you had hidden the letters. You had received one every day since the first one, and each time a new one arrived you considered telling Andy but they kept getting more and more graphic and detailed and you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

You knew it was a mistake now, if Andy was right the police could have put a stop to this already. You just didn’t want him to read all the horrible things you had done. Read how dirty and tainted you were.

Walking back down the stairs you handed Andy the 6 letters you had received from Ransom, brushing your hands down your arms once he had taken them. He quickly flicked through them and you watched anxiously as his eyes darted over the pages. Thankfully he didn’t read them for long so you hoped he hadn’t read the worst of them.

He gave you a tight smile as he reached out to take your hand “We’re going to fix this I promise” he says kissing the top of your head quickly “c’mon let’s go”

You follow after him, nervously picking at your coat that you still wore as Andy pulled his on. You gave him a small smile when he gave you a reassuring one and took your hand. As you stepped outside you spotted a couple of news vans parked outside, Andy must have done too because he picked up the pace towards the car.

He opened the car door for you but as he did so you noticed something had been spraypainted on your garage door. You quickly tap him on the arm and point it out, his back straightening as he turns and spots the words ‘cheating whore’ written in red spray paint.

“Fuckers” he growled “I’ll deal with that later I promise,” he says gently pushing you to get in the car, shutting the car door a little harder than he probably meant to.

As Andy made his way around to the driver's seat, you kept your head down brushing your hands down your jeans and picking at your nails. You kept your head down the entire drive to the police station, not only to avoid the press outside your home but to avoid the stares of passersbyers. It felt like everyone you passed was judging you, no longer trusting your side of the story. Glancing up at Andy you began to worry if he was doubting it too.

Pulling up outside of the police station you could see there was press here too and you suddenly felt sick, your body beginning to shake as you stared up at the building.

“Hey,” Andy says softly reaching out to take your hand “It’s going to be okay, I promise”

You nod your head “Won’t this look bad? Us going to the police?” you ask quietly.

“No, it would look worse if the police came to us, by doing this it’s showing we have nothing to hide and we don’t” Andy explains gently squeezing your hand.

You force a small smile before moving to climb out of the car. Andy followed after you, gently taking your hand as you walked into the police station to hand over the letters. You were surprised to find Inspector Blanc putting on his jacket about to leave.

“Ah I was just about to come find you” he smiles when he spots you.

“You saw Fox News?” Andy asks.

“Yes, it’s a dangerous game they’re playing” Blanc sighs “I was coming to ask if you had received any letters, the others doubted it but if they can get themselves on the news, they can pass on a letter” he shrugs glancing over his shoulder.

“Well it was a good hunch” Andy says passing the letters over to him “There were 7 in total”

“Seven?” Blanc says his brow arching “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” he asks glancing over at you.

You shrugged your shoulders “I dunno, i-i- panicked- didn’t realise it was something you could stop” you admit “I only told Andy after he saw the news”

Blanc nods as he flips through the letters, reading each one, you nervously gulp as he does so, trying to read the expression on his face “Well given the contents it's understandable” he says “There’s only six here, you said there was seven” he then points out.

“I burnt the first one it- it was a mistake I know but- but those are the more…graphic ones… each one got more intense” you swallow looking down at the floor unable to bring yourself to see the look on Andy’s face.

“We’re guessing he sent them to his parents and they forwarded them on, which is witness intimidation” Andy suggests his hand squeezing yours slightly.

“Damn right it is” Blanc grumbles “C’mon let's talk about this more upstairs,” he says gesturing for you to follow him deeper into the building.

“Thank you” Andy sighs placing his hand on the small of your back to guide you.

You wrap your arms around you tightly as Blanc leads the both of you through the precinct towards the other detectives who instantly stand to attention when they notice you.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t settle on a wager” Blanc states as he slaps the letters into Detective Elliot’s hand.

Elliot quickly flips through them his eyes widening before he passes them over to Wagner to read, you shift uncomfortably as they do so worried that maybe Ransom was planting seeds of doubt in their minds.

“Were you really not going to check if she received any letters?” Andy demands hands clenched into fists by his side.

“We’re sorry it won’t happen again” Elliot promises holding his hands up to placate Andy, he then turns his attention to Wagner “Get in contact with the prison and shut this down, take away all privileges if you have to” he orders.

Wagner nods passing the letters back to Elliot before stepping away to make the call “We’ll be submitting these to evidence, see if we can lift any fingerprints” Blanc reassures you “We can promise he won’t be able to contact you any more”

You breathe out a shaky sigh of relief “Thank you” you manage to say.

“It's the least we can do, have you guys experienced any other negative attention following the news?” Elliot asks grabbing a notepad.

“Yes our garage door was graffitied” Andy sighs glancing down at you, you immediately advert your gaze and look down at the floor.

“Okay we can station an officer outside to prevent any more vandalism, is there anything else?” Elliot asks.

“No” Andy states as you say “I-”

Andy’s brows furrow as he turns to look down at you “Honey? What is it?” he asks placing a calming hand on your shoulder.

“I-” you start again before screwing your eyes shut and shaking your head “It’s nothing” you mutter.

“Honey if it’s worrying you it can’t be nothing” he says softly turning you to face him, hands running up and down your arms soothingly.

“The same day the first letter arrived these girls ran over to me and Carrie at the park, it was all a bit of a blur but they were fans of Harlan and Ransom and said they didn’t blame me for being with him” You admit quietly, looking down at the floor.

Andy’s hands tense for a split second around your arms before relaxing and returning to their soothing rhythm “Why didn’t you tell me?” Andy says his tone soft.

“I didn’t want you to worry” you whisper finally looking back up at him and seeing the pained look on his face “I’m sorry” you apologise as tears collect in your eyes.

“It's okay, it's okay” Andy sighs wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace and rubbing your back soothingly.

You let out a shuddering breath as you buried your face into his chest and deeply breathed in his cologne which always seemed to calm you. Closing your eyes you could almost pretend none of this was happening, that you weren’t in a police station handing over letters that detailed everything you were guilty of.

“We promise we’ll try and get on top of the press, we can release a statement and do a press conference to dispel the rumours” Elliot promises “The preliminary hearing is in two weeks so hopefully we can collect the final bits of evidence we need to ensure he goes down for this”

“In the meantime, it might be good to get away” Blanc suggests “Stay with a family or-or a friend and have some peace and quiet before the ruckus of the trail starts” he says gesturing with his hand.

“Won’t that look like we’re running away?” you ask glancing up at Andy.

He lets out a long sigh considering it before shaking his head “No because we have nothing to run from, they can try and paint you as the villain all they like but we know you’re innocent and the evidence shows it too” he states “we can go visit Frank and Mary” he suggests.

A smile involuntarily creeps onto your lips at the thought of heading down south to see Frank and Mary “Yeah.. That sounds nice” you nod.

Andy gives you a soft smile before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head “Great, I’ll give Frank a call”

You give him another smile hoping that maybe this getaway would be what fixed everything between you. Time away from the press, nothing to remind Andy of everything you’d done.

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#NiamhWrites #CoPO #Andy Barber #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #ransom drysdale #frank adler

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nyoomfruits · 1 year

Note

yes mate directors commentary please for the baby au - have you watched three men and a baby yet lol

(and possibly your thoughts on the magic helmet au?)

i haven't yet actually!!! it's still on The List though so maybe soon!!

also since you didn't specify a scene i thought it might be fun to do some scenes from the cutting room floor so here are all the max pov scenes i wrote pre writing this fic:

“I think she’s just tired,” Seb says, as Julie continues to wail loudly, beating her little fists against his chest. “Or she might just need her daddy.” Seb glances at Charles, who’s talking to Pierre a few feet away from them.

Max, who’d also been staring at Charles for completely different reasons, glances back at Seb. “Hm?” He says, and then when he notices Julie’s displeasures, reaches forward. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me take her.”

“I don’t think that will wo-“ Seb starts, but then Julie spots Max, and she immediately starts making grabby hands for him, and Seb hands her over with an astonished look on his face. When she’s comfortably settled in Max’s arms, Julie seems to calm considerably, burying her face in his neck and letting out pitiful little hiccups instead. “Or maybe it does,” Seb says, raising an eyebrow. He glances at Charles, who’s still talking to Pierre and then back at Max, cocking his head to the side. “You know what. It makes sense, actually.” He says, rather cryptically.

Max, who’d been cooing gently at Julie and bouncing her up and down to get her to calm down, glances at Seb. “What?”

“Nothing,” Seb says, a knowing grin on his face. “Don’t worry about it. Hey, I’m going to head off. Say hi to Charles from me, yeah?” And then he’s gone, leaving Max to stare after him with a confused look on his face, Julie now contently asleep in his arms.

Charles gets rushed into an emergency meeting on Friday, just as they’re making their rounds through the paddock, leaving Max standing in front of the Ferrari motorhome next to that awful Ferrari themed stroller, Julie gurgling happily in her seat.

“All right,” Max says, looking around a little unsure. “Might as well go for a walk, I guess?” Julie mumbles something unintelligible and hits the lion plushie she’s holding against the side of the stroller. Max takes that as a yes, and starts pushing the stroller in the direction of the garages.

He doesn’t realize his mistake until he’s passing the Red Bull motorhome, and Christian steps out. There’s an almost comical pause as Max freezes and Christian takes in him, Julie, and then the stroller. He raises an eyebrow.

Max squints at him. “Don’t you even start.”

Christian holds up his hands in surrender, “I’m not saying anything,” he says. “Just let me know if this,” he gestures at Max and Julie and then in the general direction of the Ferrari motorhome, “thing you have going on ever gets more serious. I’ll get you a Red Bull branded one.”

He disappears before Max can say anything, and Max curses under his breath. He really has to start trying to convince Charles to get a different stroller. Seriously, what’s wrong with a classic black one? Hell, he’ll take a bubble gum pink one over this horrible red monstrosity.

“Bah,” Julie loudly announces, and throws her plushie on the floor. Max can’t help but agree with her, and then goes to pick the plushie back up again.

#as for the magic helmet au!!!!#its between that one and two other fics for my next Big Fic #so expect a poll about that somewhere tomorrow i think #because i for the life of me cant choose #lestappen #you'll be alright #drabble

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annoyingbelieverballoon · 7 months

Text

~Turnabout of feelings~

Part 2/3

Word count: 2200~

You were sitting on the colourful wooden chairs in Poppy's barn. The rims of the orange seats were painted yellow, while the purple seats were painted blue. You always liked colour, or you think you did; maybe it’s a taste you developed after being stuck here for however long it’s been.

Poppy was a colourful chick, that’s for sure; her feathers could do with a lot less frazzling, though. Julie was energetic as always, making the clinks and clanks of the kitchen start a rhythm of sorts. Tea was served a while ago. It was chamomile.

You wondered if you could go back to Howdy’s bodega or if it would mess up this run. Wally would probably know. Speaking of Wally, he didn’t come with you today; there was a little difference in the sequence, but it wasn’t the first time.

The paper bag filled with green and red paint and other edible things sat on the chair adjacent to you. Red and green for the apples he drew. His art was usually the biggest clue to his sanity. Apples meant safety, spirals meant danger, and eyes meant that he was currently observing something. Not in the normal way, however. He saw into your world. The real world Every time you’d mention it, he’d restart the run. It was frustrating.

The only way you could contact anything in your world was with Eddie. The chatty fellow had the most outside knowledge, even if he was often gaslit into believing those places didn’t exist. You couldn’t prove or tell him those places existed straightforwardly. So, you stuck to asking him to describe these ‘fictional’ places.

It was a comfort; listening to him describe things you knew existed made you feel less mad. Less alone.

You and Eddie quickly became best friends. It led to a peculiar development, though. Wally started painting different shots of your hometown and of your apartment complex, your landlord’s face, your family, your friends, your exes, and your childhood pets. It was horrifying; every time he gave you the drawing, you quickly tore it up and burned it. Wally never frowned, since he couldn't, but his eyes would dilate for a split second and quickly go back to their regular size.

Maybe it was a taunt, a means to scare you. Or maybe it’s something else like j-

A loud crash interrupts your train of thought.

Julie had turned the kitchen upside down, literally.

"Julie! Dearie, are you alright?" Poppy squeaked at Julie, who was currently underneath a giant pile of pots and pans.

Oh, I’m quite alright! Haha! This was quite fun! Don’t you think?" Julie asked you while dusting herself off.

"The kitchen is a mess." You take in the sights. How the fuck do you turn an oven inside out? Is this even repairable? I mean, it probably is since everything goes back to its place every morning.

Julie quickly started picking up the egg shells and the milk cartons on the floor as Poppy tried to put out the small oil fire with a rag.

You covered the pot with a lid, snuffing out the fire, then took the rag from Poppy’s hand, threw it to the floor, and started to clean up the spillage with your foot.

Poppy grabbed another rag, a mop, and a bucket of water. You spent a good hour cleaning to the sound of Julie humming the riff of Free Bird and Poppy’s squawks every once in a while.

By the end of the day, nearing sunset, you had cleaned up most of the kitchen. The cabinets were still in place of the counters, and vice versa, but that can be someone else’s problem.

"Let me walk you home!" Julie offers as you grab your paper bags of groceries.

You bid Poppy farewell and leave with Julie.

"You should’ve seen our play practice!" I think I played queen of pastries quite perfectly!"

"Apparently Sally isn’t the most fond of breenberry moats, but I think we came to an agreement!"

"What even is breen-" You get cut off.

"Oh, and Barnaby today was just mean!"

"Mean?" You turn towards Julie as she huffs and crosses her arms; despite her frustration, her face keeps its smile.

"He didn’t laugh at my joke! I spent a whole week preparing it." Julie slouches forward in a cartoonish manner.

"Why don’t you run it by me then? Maybe I’ll laugh."

Barnaby was right to cringe. It’s one thing to tell a bad joke; it’s another to overexplain it. You couldn’t help but smile nonetheless; it was sweet to see Julie try so hard.

Julie was the most energetic lass in the neighbourhood and a sweetheart at heart. She almost jumped on you the first time you two met. It was a shock to see someone so excited to meet you. Despite being bombarded with questions from her and Frank, Wally would calm the two down when asking questions by diverting the focus to other things.

One of the few things you can thank Wally for is his ability to sense your discomfort in an almost invasive way.

Sometimes you’re scared that he can read your mind.

Reaching your destination, you see Home’s eyes closed and the door shut tight, with black sludge oozing from beneath the door.

Shit shit shit, not again. You can’t restart today again; it’s the third time! THE THIRD TIME. You were so close to ending the day. Come on…

You threw the grocery bags at Julie and rushed to bang on Home’s door. The door knob wouldn’t budge, and thus you pulled until Home creaked and opened their eyes.

Their eyes were red with spirals in the middle that twisted and sputtered; the chimneys let out black smoke; and the sludge leaked from every crevice. Home was in clear pain.

It’s too late to pretend everything is okay now. You've got to delve deep.

Once that door opened, you entered the sludge and fell down. So below.

It’s a disgusting sensation, and you wouldn’t wish it on anyone else. You are slimy and covered in black tar sludge; your senses are muddled, and you continuously go between being able to breathe and not.

At the bottom, you find Wally. He was on the ground, clutching where his heart would be as he spasmed on the floor.

The black tar oozing out of him covered most of his felt and clothes.

His hand reached out to the eye painted on the wall.

You rush to him and tackle him down, stopping him from completing the contact.

It was easy holding him down despite his thrashing and clawing.

He opened his mouth, which you immediately clamped shut with both your hands.

"Don't you dare." You said this as you threw Wally against the wall.

He landed without saying a word, and the black tar oozing out of his eyes glistened.

He coughs out his words.

"Neighbour, don’t leave." He crawls towards you slowly.

"NEIGHBOUR"

"I̶’̸l̸l̶ ̶b̵e̵ ̴g̶o̷o̶d̴ ̷I̸ ̵p̸r̷o̵m̵i̵s̵e̸ ̴n̸e̶i̶g̶h̵b̵o̴u̶r̷.̵ ̵I̸’̴l̸l̵ ̶p̵l̷a̴y̸ ̶n̴i̷c̶e̴,̴ I̴ ̶w̵o̶n̴’̴t̷ ̴d̵o̶ ̵b̸a̶d̵ ̸p̴l̴e̵a̸s̷e̴ ̷p̷l̶e̷a̴s̵e̵ ̵p̴l̶e̶a̸s̶e̵ ̸n̶e̵i̸g̴h̸b̷o̴u̴r̸ ̸I̵’̵m̵ ̶g̶o̸o̶d̸ ̵I̶’̴m̸ ̶g̷o̶o̵d̸ ̵I̶ ̸s̴w̴e̴a̷r̸.̸ ̵I̵ ̴s̸w̴e̶a̷r̶ ̴I̵’̶m̴ ̶g̶o̴o̴d̵!̷ ̸I̸ ̸s̵w̸e̵a̴r̴ ̴I̶’̴m̸ ̸g̴o̵o̴d̸ ̸̸.

You stomped on his small hands whenever he tried to grab your ankles.

"I̵ ̸d̴o̵n̴’̶t̷ ̴h̴u̶r̵t̵ ̵p̴e̶o̴p̶l̵e̷,̸ ̶b̷e̸l̴i̸e̶v̵e̵ ̴m̷e̴ ̷n̸e̵i̵g̶h̷b̸o̴u̴r̵ ̸i̸ ̸d̴i̶d̷n̸’̴t̸ ̵m̸e̶a̵n̸ ̸t̸o̷.̴ ̷I̵m̴ ̶s̴o̷r̷r̴y̸ ̶i̴m̵ ̷s̸o̸r̷r̸y̷ ̴i̸m̵ ̷s̷o̷r̷r̵y̵ ̶i̴m̷ ̷s̶o̸r̷r̸y̶.̷"

He hung on to your legs for dear life. He clawed at your clothes and smothered them in ooze. You push him away with all your might, and yet he clings on to you in an almost hug to your knees.

"Please neighbour… it hurts…. So… much"

You wake up with a spring in your plush bed. Another restart of the same day, and you're going mad. You swear to whatever sick deity there is that you're going to kill Wally. Forgetting all about the mundanities of morning and not even changing out of your pyjamas, you almost fall down the stairs in a haze of pure fury.

Wally was in his room shaking, hugging his knees to his chest as small droplets of black tar left his eyes.

His permanent smile never faded, not even when you barged into the room and tried to strangle him. He didn’t fight back as you squeezed his delicate, plush neck with all your might.

Home flung a painting at you, hitting you square on the nose.

The sight of you bleeding snapped Wally from his outbreak, and thus he rushed to you on the floor.

Frazzled as he was, with his hair loose and his eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them, he clung to you and tried to remove your hands to inspect your nose.

You kicked him right in the stomach, or at least where his stomach would be.

He flinched and kept clawing at your larger hands.

"Please (name), please let me look at your wound. Please.." he begged softly.

"Get away from me! Go away! Go" You thrashed about and threw your legs at him.

Another reset, another repeat of the same day; mind-numbing conversations that you’ve heard over and over again...

All because of him...

God, you were so tired that you didn’t notice the sting of your most likely broken nose, the pain of falling on your buttocks, or how home was looking at you in pity.

You just let Wally comfort you, disengaging like a windup doll on the floor, clutching your nose, and falling into a void of nothingness.

How many more days must you bear in this happy-go-lucky hell? At what point does too much become not enough? Blood dripped down your chin and collected on Wally’s yellow, fuzzy hands.

A small, fuzzy man, trying his best to stop the bleeding from your nose. A small, fuzzy man who doesn’t know anything about human biology or what most should do in such a situation

He’s helpless, clueless, and a danger to himself and all those around him.

Much like you were.

And thus, you hated him. Or maybe not; he was the only one who brought difference to the mundane scripts, but he was also the one who forced you to repeat the same day over and over... As maddening as it was, you also liked the lack of consequence. Maybe.

You close your eyes and hope the day restarts once more.

Then you could bake with poppy, maybe swerve around and go to Sally’s house for a recital, or perhaps join Eddie and Frank in taking the shipments back to Howdy's bodega.

As tired as you were, sleep did not come. And the day didn't reset. Wally stuffed your nose with a napkin and started washing his hands, much as he would after a painting session.

"I'm sorry, neighbour, I really am."

You didn't say anything back.

The day continued forward, and you painted with Wally. He drew his usual apples, then you took a walk to Howdy's bodega, where you met Sally and Barnaby. This time there are no strange coins to discuss; they simply chat about the upcoming play Sally is hosting.

You two grab the paint, bandages, and food and leave the bodega.

You then walk onward and find Frank and Eddie walking about; Frank is holding his usual book with no title cover, and Eddie is hauling a shipment, most likely to Howdy's bodega.

You exchange the usual pleasantries and go onward.

You walk around the neighbourhood to the forest, where you find Julie playing a game. You lay on the forest floor and listened as Julie described her day.

She then drags you to Poppy's house, where you bake a cake. Make a mess, clean up, and trudge back home.

The evening is like any other. You sit on the couch perpendicular to Wally's and fiddle with whatever you have on hand. This time, it's a piece of torn newspaper. Wally heats up whatever you bought from Howdy, and you eat your second and only meal of the day. The silence between the two of you is thick.

Wally does not paint this evening; instead, he unblinkingly stares at you as you eat. You don't mind it; it's not the first time, and in silence, you finish your meal, get ready for bed, and go your separate ways.

Sleep didn't come that night, as Welcome Home's night stayed still and didn't fast forward to the next day.

You itch your injured nose; it's a dull ache that keeps you from delving too far into your thoughts.

Sick of the stale air of Home's guest bedroom, you tiptoe downstairs, much like a child who's trying to get their midnight snacks.

Everything was scarier at night; even in the safety of home, the darkness was an unwelcome change from the brightly coloured neighbourhood.

It was at night when you woke up in this strange new world of puppets and old mannerisms.

The night was dangerous here, as Wally knows, and you've seen firsthand what happens to those who get lost at night.

He always stopped you before you ventured too far; it was infuriating but also comforting. After all, fear of the unknown was common.

You don't think you've ever died in this world—not yet, at least. Wally, despite his strange possessions, never hurts you. You know you can bleed; you know you can hurt and feel pain, but not to what extent...

I don't think finding out will be fun.

Wally is a strange character who seems sweet and is sweet, but is very infuriating. It was difficult to hate him, but so easy to be annoyed by him. Your personal 'punching bag', a subconscious voice would say.

Too easy to hurt, put the blame on, and loathe. Far too easy.

{note from author: I’ve had this in my notes app for months now I think. I’m sick of going back to it and changing everything over and over. I’ve decided that I’m giving my writing a b effort instead of worrying about every single thing. Still though I hope things are concise and clear; I’ve been told I ramble too much and stray away from plot}

#wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #turnabout of feelings #welcome home #fanfic #wally darling

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whumpsecretsantaevent · 8 months

Text

SS In July gift: @darkthingshappen

This is an exchange event so there will be a blanket trigger warning for all entries, so read at your own risk! Potential trigger warnings may include nsfw themes as well as gore and possible squicks.

He's a kleptomaniac. That's the only reason he takes the water bottle. He's surprised he hasn't gotten caught yet. One of the crew, Rafi, had gotten it from a vending machine. Klepto doesn't even like Fiji water all that much. He just takes things. A goldfish biscuit is sitting on the train floor for that very reason.

It'd be a little ridiculous to turn around and return the water bottle. He and Rafi already separated to search the train for their target. If he takes a sip, so what? He's seen no sign of the target, hopefully Rafi is having better luck.

He's nearing the front of the train when he realizes how slow everything has become. Blinking is suddenly a bit of an ordeal, and continuing to walk forward is worse. He feels drowsy. Like he's going to fall through the floor. He has to hold onto the sides of seats to support himself, getting a few strange looks from passengers that he sneers at. He does manage to stumble through another sliding door, finding himself in the very front car.

It's completely empty. He has to lean against a snack counter, closing his eyes to try and stop his vision from swimming. He has no fucking idea what's wrong with him at the moment, but his best guess is that stupid water. God, he is going to tear Rafi a new one for this. Not that he thinks Rafi did anything to the water.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds that he fell face down onto the floor at some point. A gross fucking train floor, with his suit? He's going to need a goddamn lint roller. He tries to push himself up, but his movements are sluggish. He's too weak to do anything right now. He finds his eyelids far too heavy, shutting against his will.

Klepto doesn't know how long he lays there, ear pressed against the floor. The quiet rumble of the train's movement lulling him into some kind of sleep.

The obnoxious, continuous buzzing and vibrating from the phone in his pocket drags him out of his numb state. Possible drugging be damned, he's going to have to answer to The Boss. Probably not the best idea in his state. He and Rafi are missing the briefcase, and he doubts he'd be able to lie very well right now. He forces his body to respond to him, slowly reaching downward to try and grab the phone.

The noise of the door behind him sliding open barely registers in his mind. He gets his hand over the pocket when the new arrival speaks.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Some cheeky shit says smugly. He doesn't recognize his voice, but his accent is American. His eyes are closed, but he tries to roll them at the cliche bullshit the man just said.

He continues trying to get into his own pocket, frustrated by how fucking difficult it is to move his fingers how he wants them. He can hear the man doing something by the door, moving things around most likely. If he's blocking the exit, then Klepto is probably in some deep shit. There's no way he can defend himself right now. His only hope is some civilian forcing their way in and becoming a witness, or Rafi showing up.

The man walks closer, steps slow and deliberate. He seems like a real asshole. Klepto finally opens his eyes. Definitely American.

The American crouches down and moves him onto his back, almost effortlessly. He looks generic. Square jaw, brown hair, brown eyes. Big guy, though. Based on the few gray hairs, definitely older than him. He grabs his wrist, the one still struggling to get into his pocket, and moves it away.

Asshole.

The American takes the still ringing phone out of his pocket. Tilting his head at the phone, he ultimately presses something and it goes silent. The prick hung up on his boss.

Shit.

"Fancy meeting you here," The American says, carelessly dropping the phone onto the ground. He smiles down at him, a hungry look in his eyes. It makes his skin crawl. "Remember me?"

He most definitely does not remember this random fucking guy. But considering his job, being trapped in here with The American just got infinitely worse. Probably has some vendetta against him. Out for revenge or some shit.

"What? Nothing to say?" The American laughs, reaching out to rest his hand against the side of his face and slowly begins to caress it. He has a lot of colorful things to say right now, but it's impossible to get anything out of his throat. Such bullshit. "No? Suppose I'll just cut to the chase, then." The American moves his hand further down, fingers stretching around his throat. He finds himself unconsciously holding his breath.

He can't believe it. He is not about to be strangled to death on a train floor while drugged. But The American doesn't press down. His hand just rests on his throat, looking far too pleased by what he's seeing.

"Forgot how pretty you were." The American sighs, eyes slowly trailing down his body. Like he's admiring him. The implications are sobering. His entire body goes into attack mode, even if it can't do much attacking. "Belland…" Klepto finally manages to force out, quiet and mumbled. Barely recognizable. He lifts his arm to grab the hand around his throat, weakly trying to pull it away.

"There you are!" The American laughs, taking his hand away from his throat. "I'd like for you to be a little present for this. Try and keep that energy."

The American looks at his face, and then down at his crotch a couple of times, like he was considering something. Ultimately, he separated his legs and moved between them. "I'd go for your mouth, but I think you'd bite my dick off." The American chuckles, working on taking off his shoes.

This is so fucked up. He'd kind of prefer dying right now. Some random guy who he's apparently supposed to recognize is about to fucking rape him. God, this job is a disaster.

The American throws his shoes somewhere behind him, and he finds it in himself to still be angry about the mistreatment of his clothes. The American moves further up, quickly undoing his belt and pulling it from the loops. Then, he starts unbuttoning his waistcoat. He has hunger in his eyes, hands working fast to undress him. Both sides of the waistcoat are pushed aside. It only takes a few extra seconds for him to unbutton his shirt, leaving his chest bare.

"Shit," he moans, causing him to cringe. It's like he's some fucking fanboy. The American lowers his shaking hands, slowly dragging them along his well defined stomach.

"Like a fucking model," he says breathily. He just grits his teeth and endures it. He stares directly up at the ceiling, unwilling to look at The American's stupid fucking face while he gropes him.

The large hands leave no area unexplored. The touch brings a warmth to Klepto's chest, which just makes him want to squirm. The American tweaks one of his nipples, and it surprises him to the point that he actually makes a noise.

An embarrassing, high pitched squeaking noise.

That seems to get The American going, because he continues to pinch and tug on the sensitive, hard buds. Klepto grinds his teeth together and uses all of his willpower to keep the rest of his responses to himself, completely unwilling to let this man have anything.

He eventually gets bored with Klepto's top half and his lack of response, moving back down to the bottom. He unbuttons Klepto's's pants, and hooking his fingers through two belt loops, he tugs the pants down his legs. Once that layer is gone, The American doesn't waste time pulling down Klepto's boxers, exposing him completely. Klepto just hopes this is over quickly. This has been a bad day to wear SpongeBob.

"Been waiting a long time to do this," the American says. Klepto is still staring up at the ceiling, absolutely furious, when he grabs his limp dick and squeezes painfully. Surprised by the action, he lets out a gasp. The American laughs at that and Klepto forces himself to move, pushing at the American's hand, still wrapped around him.

He sighs, grabbing both of Klepto's wrists and forcing them above his head. He looks around for a second, before taking his discarded belt and using it to bind his hands together.

"Let's keep those out of the way," he says with a smile, patting the side of his face. It really pisses him off.

When Klepto feels like he can sit up without fainting, he's going to kill this man.

#SS In July 2023

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thedeathdeelers · 1 year

Note

Hmmm, wanna write something of Comfort on a Bad Day? Absolutely no pressure, hope this strikes your fancy!

carlos didn’t know how to help.

he remembers feeling just as helpless when he used to see and hear his sister trying to cry as quietly as possible in her room, thinking neither he nor their dad could hear her. he had eventually figured out a way to comfort her without making her feel uncomfortable, but it had taken him some time to figure out how.

but as he now stands on the other side of the garage doors, listening to reggie’s sniffles coming from the studio, he can feel his heart clench all over again.

he hated seeing his family in pain.

they had all been through so much, and yet pain and grief still chased after them, refusing to let them go.

carlos sinks to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and rests his head against them.

what could he possibly do or give reggie that could help him? could carlos even make a difference?

maybe he should ask his dad?

he shakes his head.

no. he didn’t want their dad to worry — reggie hid himself in the studio for a reason, just like julie used to in her room.

he needs to figure this out on his own.

he rolls his head to the side, eyes scanning the garden as his brain goes into overdrive:

what does reggie like? what makes him feel better?

music? no, too loud, too obvious.

food? ….no that would make things worse actually, waaaay worse.

should he tell alex and luke? julie, maybe? nope. reggie probably didn’t want his sister and the guys to know either.

what would he want if he was feeling down? he knew he and reggie agreed on quite a lot of things so maybe…

but what helped him? what did he use-

carlos stands up so suddenly at the realisation, he nearly topples backwards into the garage doors. he stands there for a moment, waiting to get his bearings, and then races back into the house, not stopping until he’s in his room.

he desperately searches for what he needs, pulling open every drawer and cupboard door, throwing things around and searching under every piece of furniture in his room.

he’s gotta find it, he’s gotta find it, he’s got-

gotcha!

carlos stretches his arm out as far as it can go under the bed, fingers wiggling in desperate hope as he struggles to grasp the object he really really needs.

he closes his eyes and reaches a little further and- yes! he can feel the soft material at the edge of his fingertips. his eyes snap open as he pushes just a little further, and HA!

fingers wrapping securely around the worn thing, carlos gently pulls it towards him before springing up and sprinting back out to the studio.

stopping right outside the studio to catch his breath, carlos checks on the object in his hands one more time before slowly easing the garage door open.

he first pops his head open, eyes scanning the space, then inches forward when he spots reggie sat at the foot of the couch.

slowly making his way over to reggie, feet shuffling against the carpeted floor so as to not startle reggie, carlos starts to doubt his decision to walk in and disturb reggie

what if reggie doesn’t want carlos here? what if he just wanted to spend the day by himself, without being interrupted by annoying younger brothers?

carlos stops in his tracks at that thought, rethinking this entire thing. he looks down at what’s in his hands and hesitates; what if this doesn’t even help him?

but before he can start backing out, the sniffling suddenly stops. looking up, he finds reggie looking at him, a strained smile on his face.

“hey carlos! what’s up? you good buddy?”

carlos’ heart clenches at the sound of reggie’s voice, at his attempt at seeming fine. it doesn’t escape him when reggie tries to subtly wipe at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel.

“i uh-,” he starts, kicking at the carpet under his feet. “i just wanted to-”

“oh! what’s that you got there? an old friend?”

carlos stares blankly at reggie for a second, before blinking himself out of the daze and follows reggie’s gaze to his hands.

“oh! oh yeah i wanted to uh, i wanted to show you something.”

at reggie’s nod, carlos slowly makes his way over to reggie and settles down next to him.

“this is osito. mom got it for me before i was born and he’s been with me ever since.” carlos fiddles with the old bear’s arms, the soft worn material bringing its own sense of comfort.

“and hey! the little dude has the same flannel as me! we match!” reggie’s grin comes a little more naturally this time, but it still doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“yeah, mom stitched it up for me when i was sick one year. apparently i was crying worried he might get sick without a jacket on and well…mom was always good with this kind of stuff.” carlos stops for a second, taking a deep breath when he starts feeling little chocked up.

not cool dude! you’re here to make reggie feel better, not worse!

shaking his head to clear his mind, carlos looks up at reggie, and is startled to find him looking at him with a small genuine smile on his face.

“i, um,” clearing his throat, carlos looks away and stares at the coffee table in front of them. “osito helped me get through some stuff, and….his soft jacket always helped me calm down i just. i just wanted to uh. to let you know that uh. that…you’re welcome to use it whenever you…might need it.” when he hears reggie sighing next to him, carlos rushes to add- “not that you know! not that i think you’d want a kid’s toy or i just-”

“carlos,” reggie gently places a hand on his shoulder, successfully cutting off his panicked rambling. “i think if he helped you out, he must be a very special guy.” reggie leans down and bumps his shoulder against his. “thank you, little dude. really.”

his small smile grows a little brighter, and carlos feels like he can breathe a little easier.

he nods once, clearing his throat again before answering.

“yeah, of course. it’s what the- it’s what the man of the house does you know just…normal stuff….” he’s not sure what he’s saying anymore, and he can’t seem to stop, but reggie is looking at him with a lighter look in his eyes and carlos feels like maybe he’s succeeded in helping another sibling feel just a little bit better.

and that’s all that matters.

#well then.#this got away from me a lil i apologise #hope you like it! 🥺♥️#got inspired to write these two instead of juke eheh #thank you for sending this in!!! 🥰♥️#jatp #ask #ask fics #julie and the phantoms #carlos molina #reggie peters #but also #reggie molina #also i used like 2747 tenses in this so. enjoy #not proofread oop

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faebriel · 4 months

Text

and a bonus new year's treat - this puffychu fic has been good for me to get back into the swing of writing for the next act of rousseau's man, which is a beefy one. but for people who have been holding out since july (sorry. lol), here is a raincoats snippet from somewhere in act 2!! happy new year <3

"Look at the night, it don't seem so lonely... we fill it up with only you!"

Niki giggles, almost tripping over the footpath as she tries to hide her face in the length of her sleeve. Everything seems so much funnier after a few glasses of wine.

"'ve fucked it," Schlatt informs Wilbur, only slurring slightly. Wilbur stumbles, dragging Niki's weight halfway over towards him thanks to the arm slung over her shoulder. Schlatt must be tugging at his other arm. "It goes only two, dumbass."

"Artistic interpretation," Wilbur snipes back, and his arms resettle jerkily atop their shoulders - Niki almost stumbles again, entirely too short for this business, and Schlatt groans loudly.

"You're gonna make me fucking sick, Wil."

"You already - " Niki is beset by another set of giggles. "You already make me sick, Schlatt."

Wilbur absolutely hoots at that, loud enough for his laughter to echo down the empty road like a thunderclap. Schlatt groans even louder.

"You're both so fucking annoying," he remarks, but he says that all that time, and it has never been an issue even once.

This new place is twice as big as Perfect, twice as developed as their old server, and Wilbur and Schlatt take to it like fish that have long outgrown their puddles - bright and colourful as the fish that swim from salty rivers down to the sea, as long as her arm, fish that didn’t exist back home. Niki watches them brighten up as she dips her toes in, pleasantly surprised by everything from the way people smile at her as she passes in the streets to the swathes of new things they just… have, now. Wildflowers in every colour of the rainbow that dot the fields, buildings topped with beehives and copper, and vegetables she’s never eaten before. Her notebook is thick with new recipes scribbled onto scraps of paper and stuffed between the bindings, and the back wall of her new base is decked out in densely-patterned terracotta tiles.

Niki's house emerges on the horizon, and thank god for it. The brisk walk has sobered her up - it's a month or so into autumn, and the winds here are sharp (Wilbur even thinks it will snow during winter, which is exciting, because Niki's never seen snow) - but she's hungry, and it had taken an extra fifteen minutes to convince Wilbur and Schlatt not to waste their gold on kebabs when she has leftover pie at her house. And she doesn't even fumble with the locking enchantment on the door, either.

"Would either of you like some tea?" she asks, bustling in - unlike her old house, this one does a better job at keeping the warmth in. She immediately swans over to her laundry hamper and pulls out her house jumper over her nice blouse. She is cold, and coming home after a night out always makes her feel tired and ready for bed, too. She is absolutely kicking the other two out as soon as possible.

"Oh my god," Schlatt's voice emerges from behind her. "That is the ugliest fucking thing I've seen in my entire life."

"Rude," Niki says. She knitted this sweater.

"No, you dumb fuck," he says, already reaching for a finger bun on the plate left on the counter. Schlatt is usually extremely anal about his gains, but he loosens up when he's drunk. Stops staring at sweet things like he thinks they're going to bite him. Good. "The fucking wall. What the fuck else would I be talking about? Jesus fucking christ."

"Oh," Niki says. She turns to look at her feature wall - in white and orange clay, spreading bright beams from floor to ceiling. It's not always easy to track down dyes, but bonemeal, dandelions and poppies aren't too difficult.

"I like it."

"Niki likes it," Wilbur echoes.

"I think I'm gonna throw up," Schlatt remarks.

"It's not that bad - "

"Not on my floorboards!"

" - you drama queen," Wilbur finishes, pinching his own finger bun as Niki scrambles over to whack the bathroom door open. Fortunately, it looks like Schlatt is faking just nausea to make his dumbass point, instead of actually sick. He gets the least nauseous of the three of them when he drinks anyway. "It's got - it's got suns in it, doesn't it, Niki. It's nice. It's morningly. I helped her put it in, you know."

"Of course you did." Schlatt narrows his eyes, chewing through his words. "She's fuckin' lying to you, man. Shit looks terrible, jus’ terrible."

Wilbur makes an offended noise. Niki swats at them both as she reaches for the kitchen counter. Wilbur, ever a sweetheart, reaches over and hands her a finger bun.

"It looks very nice," Niki says firmly, in her and that is the end of that tone of voice. Roll the dice - today, they've both decided to listen to her, as Schlatt rolls his eyes and Wilbur distracts himself by trying to find a nice way to rub stray icing stickiness off his fingers. "Do either of you want some tea? I'm going to put a pot on."

"Right. How could we forget about Niki’s nanna bedtime," Schlatt snarks. "We'll be out of your hair soon, don't worry." Niki, maturely, sticks her tongue out at him.

"Do you have chai?"

"Are you going to ruin it?" Niki shoots back. Wilbur always drinks his tea so sweet. "I don't think I have enough sugar for you."

"Har-har, very funny - "

"But no, just peppermint, sorry."

"It'll do. Never apologise, Niki."

"I don't want your leaf water," Schlatt pipes up.

"Some water, then? Normal water?"

"I'm already sober, don't make it worse," he groans, running a hand over his face. "I'm good."

Niki is poking around in her fridge.

"Milk?"

"No," he says again, but his face scrunches up in thought. "'s it hi-lo?"

Niki squints at the label.

"Full cream."

He sniffs loudly. "It'll do."

Wilbur eyes Schlatt judgmentally as Niki passes the mug over the counter.

"You're such a freak," he remarks.

"Don't you have a teaspoon to pull out of your ass?" Schlatt retorts.

"Ew," Niki adds.

"Schlatt." Wilbur crosses his arms, tilting back on the back two legs of his chair. "Not appropriate at the lady's dining table."

Schlatt just rolls his eyes, and takes a loud slurp of his milk.

Niki makes the tea and passes it to Wilbur, along with the poorly cobbled together teapot – auspiciously, the same colour as Niki’s wall. She and Wilbur have never been particularly good at pottery.

"We can't stay long, anyway," Wilbur points out. "Big work day tomorrow."

"Oh?" Niki has gotten a job laying paths, but it’s hardly the dream she chased out here. The other two, though, are still in the stubborn realm of self employed. Wil hasn't even touched his brewing stand since leaving their old server, as far as she knows. "Doing what?"

"We have someone interested in our new enterprise," Schlatt drawls, putting on his businessman voice - and now they're both tipping back in their chairs. She idly wonders which of their drunk asses will overbalance first. "Dare I say, the market will soon be ours."

"Bookmaking," Wilbur informs Niki, with twin self-satisfaction. "Enchanted books, specifically."

"Oh, that's nice," Niki says mildly, over another sip of tea. "I didn't know you knew galactic."

"We don't," Wilbur says smugly.

"We don't," Schlatt confirms, just as smugly. "But fuck, people pay a lot for those things."

Niki tries not to look pained. She does not succeed.

"Come on, Niki," Wilbur conjules her. "It's a good idea. Promise you that"

"Promise me you won't end up in trouble again," and that might be skirting a little too close to last server, because Schlatt and Wilbur exchange those silent looks she still doesn't know how to parse. Whatever. She's making her point.

"Can't make promises." Wilbur says, not unkindly. "Trouble tends to follow me, Niki."

"Speak for yourself," Schlatt mutters into his cup.

Niki squares her shoulders, but the fight is already lost - she might as well try to stop tidal swell with nothing but her hands and a kid's plastic bucket. There's no point.

"Just be careful," she concedes, and Wilbur reaches out to pat her shoulder with a brilliant grin. It's the snakey one again. The comedown from the wine must be making her cynical. She heaves out a sigh, and pats her hand atop his as she pulls a long draw from her tea.

Wilbur yawns loudly.

"Bedtime?" he suggests.

"Bedtime," Niki agrees, and yawns loudly. Schlatt immediately starts holding back a slightly-larger-than-normal gulp of air, eyes watering as he tries to look wide awake.

"Two is so fucking early to call it," Schlatt complains, still slightly slurring, but he'll sleep it off she guesses. "'m gonna feel like shit in the morning, at this rate."

"Bedtime," Niki insists, and Wilbur ushers the three of them outside.

The door opens, Niki stands on the porch to wave them off, but the doorframe at this height frames the night sky in an oak wood frame, and Wilbur points up excitedly.

"Look, look!" he exclaims.

The moon is dark and unlit, a new moon, but the velvet of the sky is filled with falling stars. They streak downwards, leaving long silver tails in their wake, swallowed up by the darkness in a few seconds. Niki squints upward, feeling the warm night air on her cheeks, and watches as they fall. The scent of something stark and acrid hits her nose, fresh and prickly all at the same time.

"End stone?" Wilbur asks quietly, more to the sky than anyone standing on the stairs.

"Smells like it," Schlatt agrees. “If it died up a rat’s ass.”

"I hope no one lives out there," Niki says, following the comets' trajectory to where they disappear into the horizon - into a canyon or mountain system or whatever.

"I'm sure they don't," Wilbur says immediately.

The statement settles between the three of them. People probably do live out there, is the thing, but Wilbur is trying to be comforting. It's not very comforting. Niki screws her face up. At least he's trying.

"Isn't it strange," Wilbur starts, and then pauses - either trying to remember how his tongue works, or working the idea over in his mind in that thorough way he does, filtering out the pieces he sees as unnecessary and streamlining the thought into something consumable. "Isn't it strange how pretty those look this time of night."

"Ay?" Schlatt asks.

"No, like - it's destructive, but it's beautiful. And we're all here staring at it, aren't we? Are we part of the problem?"

"I think I get it," Niki says quietly.

"You're both soft," Schlatt scoffs, but there's no actual power behind his voice. "Fuckin' pussies. It's rocks. And more fuckin' importantly, not our problem."

Wilbur cuffs him up the side of the head. "Yeah, alright, thanks for the input."

"I'm not standing around on the steps all night," he announces, stumbling down the turning set, and Niki watches with all the carefulness in her newly-sobered brain as he goes.

"You will go to bed, won't you?" she says.

"Maybe."

"Schlatt," she implores him.

"You're making the lady upset," Wilbur chips in. "She's gonna worry all night."

"I'm going to worry all night," Niki echoes.

"Fine," Schlatt groans, and Wilbur and Niki cheer - and then glance sideways at each other, catching the others' eye, and dissolve into a new set of giggles. Maybe Niki is less sober than she thought.

"Work can wait until the morning," Niki says definitively, definitely not bubbling with laughter. "You need to be re-refr - you need to be fresh. Go be fresh."

"Yes ma'am," Wilbur says obediently, squeezing her arm before he starts to amble down the stairs after Schlatt. "Sleep well, Niki."

"You too," she says.

#my fics #dsmp #not tagging more than that but well. we raincoats for the mutuals largely #happy new year everyone!! to 2024 🎉🎉

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theharrowing · 2 years

Text

Stuck

While exploring an abandoned building with his two best friends Jimin & Taehyung, Jungkook gets stuck in a wall.

🖤 Jungkook x Jimin x Taehyung

🖤 word count: 4.1k

🖤 dead dove, dubcon, friends to fuck buddies, smut, porn without plot, slash, poly, nsfw, 21+

🖤 warnings: dubcon! jk says no and the others are very persistent! top jimin & taehyung, bottom jungkook, ass to mouth, anal fingering, anal sex, blow job, spitroasting, contrived situations

🖤 written for AO3TagsBTSBingo!

🖤 beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🖤 posted july, 2022 | read on ao3

"Are you sure this is safe?" Jeongguk mutters, shining his flashlight around.

"I mean, not really," Taehyung chuckles from behind him. "That's part of the thrill!"

Jimin turns around and shines his flashlight under his chin, accentuating the shadows on his face and making his pretty features look menacing. His overgrown dark brown hair only furthers the illusion. "What's wrong, Jeonggukie? Are you scared?"

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and shrugs. "I just don't get why you guys like doing this so much."

Jimin turns back to lead the way and shrugs. "It's something to do."

The old paper mill on the edge of town is a dilapidated building that's long since been abandoned by the city. Jimin and Taehyung make the trek out from time to time to explore different parts of it, taking artsy photos for their social media, and they managed to convince Jeongguk to come along. Had Jeongguk known how dark and damp it is, he would have opted to stay home. But now he's here, and there's no turning back—that is unless he wants his friends to make fun of him, which he does not.

All three of them have backpacks that contain some kind of supply or food item. Snacks, extra batteries for their flashlights, and a sweater in case they're there late enough that it begins to cool. The sun is still high in the sky, but most of the windows are boarded, only allowing small beams of light into the building. Jimin and Taehyung seem to have a grasp on the first floor and walk with ease, but Jeongguk is nervous and alternates watching his feet and looking ahead a lot.

"Since you're new, we won't go up, but there are some cement steps that lead into a lower level that we want to check out," Jimin says, cocking his head back although his eyes stay forward. "It's walled off, but we found a hole that we should be able to squeeze through."

Squeezing through a hole in the basement of an abandoned building is not quite what Jeongguk had in mind when he agreed to tag along, but he goes with the flow; if Taehyung can fit through it, he can too. The steps leading to the lower level come into view in the corner, causing Jimin to have a bit of a pep in his step. Jeongguk continues walking at his same uncertain pace until an arm slings over his shoulder and presses him along just a little faster.

Jeongguk flinches at the sudden physical contact, not only because it's dark and scary in the building, but because it's Taehyung touching him, and—according to Jeongguk—Taehyung is one of the prettiest people alive. So is Jimin, hence allowing them to drag him to such a place. Try as he might to figure out what the fuck he's doing here, that's the only reason he's been able to come up with.

Jimin disappears around the corner presumably down the stairs, and Jeongguk instantly feels nervous. He doesn't want Jimin out of his sight and speeds up, turning the corner in time to see Jimin hop down the last step and disappear around another corner.

"Jiminah, wait up!" Jeongguk shouts, but Jimin just giggles in response.

Taehyung chuckles and releases his hold around Jeongguk so they can get downstairs faster. It's a short distance, and as soon as Jeongguk turns the corner, he sees Jimin's flashlight and part of his form ahead and off to the left. Jimin waves them over, and as they get closer, Jeongguk sees it: the hole. He imagined a thin wooden wall, but this is a thick cement wall that seems to have been bludgeoned a couple feet off the ground.

Jimin removes his backpack and squats, then shines his flashlight through and sticks his arms into the hole. "Oh yeah, I can totally fit," Jimin says as he wiggles his body through. Jeongguk's stomach drops from watching Jimin disappear through the hole, and he walks faster so he can look through and see what's in there.

"Wow, it's crazy in here!" Jimin shouts. His voice echoes, but it's muffled from the wall.

"What's over there?" Jeongguk responds, shining his flashlight through. All he can see is more empty space, and then Jimin stands in front of the hole and squats down, smiling at Jeongguk.

"Come see!" Jimin says with a grin.

There's something dark and playful in Jimin's stare that makes Jeongguk anxious, but he assumes Jimin is doing it on purpose to rile him up, so he pushes the thought away and swallows a lump in his throat. He grabs Jimin's backpack and pushes it through the hole, which Jimin takes and sets down.

"I'm not sure I'll fit," Jeongguk mutters, eyeing up the circumference. There's a bit of concrete that appears to be able to crumble away, but for the most part, it's pretty solid.

"Of course you will," Jimin responds. He plays with his lip between his teeth, and Jeongguk looks away from the movement, staring down at the thick cement that separates them.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath and exhales, then shrugs his backpack off and sticks his arms through. Jimin takes Jeongguk's flashlight and sets it down for him, then grabs onto Jeongguk's wrists to help him. He has to turn at a strange angle to get his shoulders through, but they ease in. But then, the unthinkable happens: Jeongguk gets stuck around his ribs.

"Um," Jeongguk mutters, trying not to panic. "I th—I think I'm stuck."

Jimin lets go of Jeongguk's wrists and shines his flashlight around, assessing the situation. Jeongguk tries to twist his torso to find some wiggle room, but the more he struggles, the more he panics, and the more he panics, then more wedged into the fucking wall he becomes.

Jeongguk's heart pounds hard in his chest, and he tries his best not to hyperventilate, but he's in the basement of an abandoned building stuck in a fucking wall, and it's all he can do to not cry. Jeongguk grunts and mutters to himself as he tries to get his feet on even enough ground to try to push himself through, but his feet slide against the slick concrete, and he can't do anything.

"Taehyung, can you pull me back out?" Jeongguk asks somewhat frantically.

Taehyung's hands take Jeongguk by the waist, but rather than try to pull him out, Taehyung begins to rub up and down Jeongguk's sides, slowly and deliberately, pushing his shirt up in his fingers. Jeongguk's legs shake beneath him, unable to find stable footing, and he attempts to push against the wall, but his hands are sweaty and unhelpful.

"Taehyung, please," Jeongguk whines, but Taehyung squeezes Jeongguk's flesh under his shirt.

"Damn Jeongguk ," Taehyung says. "You have a great ass."

A myriad of emotions course through Jeongguk's body, and all of them cause him to break out into a sweat. While being groped and complimented by Taehyung is something Jeongguk has wished for since the dawn of their friendship, this would probably be the last circumstance in which he would want it to happen. In fact, Jeongguk thinks the only thing that could make this situation worse would be the building burning down around them—thankfully it’s mostly concrete.

"Awe," Jimin whines, rubbing his fingers over Jeongguk's cheek, and Jeongguk watches his features morph into further deviousness. "Jealous I can't see your view, TaeTae."

"Guys," Jeongguk mutters, mostly to Jimin, "this isn't funny, please. Help me get out of here."

Taehyung's hands rove over Jeongguk's hips and take hold of his ass, giving it a squeeze through his tight jeans, and Jeongguk rolls his eyes, holding in a whimper.

"Please," Jeongguk begs quietly with his eyes closed.

"Sorry," Taehyung says, voice low and gravely, "but seeing you stuck like this is making me hard as fuck. I almost don't wanna help you get out."

"Wh—what?" Jeongguk responds, eyes flying open to find Jimin staring back at him with a hint of pink on his cheeks.

"You do look so pretty when you struggle, Ggukie," Jimin says, cocking his head to the side as if studying Jeongguk. Jimin runs a hand through his hair and smiles. "I want to kiss you."

"You w—you want—what?"

Jeongguk's arms hang limply against the wall as Taehyung's hands squeeze his ass, and although Jeongguk is still very much panicked, his cock is hardening in his pants from the attention.

"Guys, please," Jeongguk mutters. "Let me out of here and you can do whatever you want to me."

Jimin's eyes widen, and he grins. "You mean that? You would let us do whatever we want to you?"

Jeongguk attempts to push back out of the wall, but Taehyung presses against his ass with what Jeongguk assumes to be his hard, clothed cock. Jeongguk whimpers from the feeling of Taehyung against him, and Jimin's eyes widen once more.

"Yes," Jeongguk whines. "God, you two are fucking hot; of course I would let you do whatever you want. Just help me get out."

There's a desperation to Jeongguk's voice that he wishes would encourage the two of them to want to assist him, but it seems to only serve to enable them to grope him more. Jimin gets closer and rubs his nose against Jeongguk's nose, smiling sweetly, and Jeongguk swallows another lump.

"What if we want to have our way with you first," Jimin asks softly.

Jeongguk wants to continue to beg them to help him, but Jimin licks over Jeongguk's lips, stopping any words from coming through, and sending a sharp spark of arousal straight through him. Taehyung's hands push up Jeongguk's shirt once more, warm and big, and Jeongguk whines.

"Please," he tries to beg, but Jimin presses his lips against Jeongguk's, and when Jeongguk gasps, Jimin licks into his mouth and groans.

Taehyung's hands move down Jeongguk's hips, and Taehyung presses his cock against Jeongguk's ass—he feels the shape more clearly. Jeongguk whimpers, his cock twitches, and he begins to feel less panicked than before, though he's still full of the fear of being discovered like this, or worse, being stuck here forever. One of Taehyung's hands snakes down Jeongguk's hip and grazes over his cock, and both men groan.

"Fuck, you're hard, Ggukie."

"How could I not be," Jeongguk whines while Jimin sucks his bottom lip.

"Please," Taehyung whines. "Please let us fuck you."

Jeongguk gasps and attempts to mutter that he doesn't think it's a good idea, but Taehyung's fingers undoing his jeans while Jimin licks and sucks on his lips has his head spinning. Taehyung tugs on Jeongguk's jeans and briefs, pulls them over his hips, and whines when Jeongguk's ass is exposed.

"Fuck, your ass is so nice," Taehyung says, using both hands to spread him open. Jeongguk feels anxious and exposed, but he likes how Taehyung's hands feel on him. "Please, Ggukie, can I taste you?"

The prospect of Taehyung licking his ass makes Jeongguk tremble, and he whimpers, "Y-yes."

Jimin licks up Jeongguk's lips as Taehyung licks over his rim, and Jeongguk's body shakes from head to toes. A deep, ragged moan leaves Jeongguk's lips as Taehyung's tongue flicks and laps and draws circles, and Jimin licks and sucks and nibbles. Jeongguk moans and whines, limbs hanging limply, and he slips further from worry, submitting to them.

Taehyung stops, making Jeongguk whine, and Jeongguk hears the sound of Taehyung's backpack unzipping and fabric rustling around. Then, Taehyung's hands are back on him, pushing his hips forward.

"Rest against the wall if you can," Taehyung says. "Get comfortable."

Jeongguk angles himself so his knees are resting against the wall, and Taehyung gently grabs Jeongguk's hips and goes back to eating him out. Taehyung must have laid down the sweater he brought because Jeongguk's hips are at a low angle, which he imagines Taehyung would be able to reach from sitting on his knees.

Taehyung's tongue presses into Jeongguk's ass, stretching him ever so slightly, and Jeongguk lets out a choked sob into Jimin's mouth.

"What's he doing to you, baby?" Jimin asks in a high, sultry voice.

"Ton—fuck—tonguing my ass," Jeongguk whines.

"Tongue fucking your ass, hmm?" Jimin whines. "I bet you taste so good, baby."

Taehyung groans from behind Jeongguk, then he presses his tongue into Jeongguk's ass as far as it'll go while drool runs down Jeongguk's crack, over his balls. The feeling is warm, soft heaven, making Jeongguk's head spin and his legs tremble.

"I'm gonna finger you open and fuck you," Taehyung says as his lips move from Jeongguk's hole to nibble on his cheek. Taehyung reaches around and grabs Jeongguk's cock, and Jeongguk hisses and moans, feeling a new wave of arousal shoot through him. "I wanna paint the wall with your cum."

"Please," Jeongguk whines against Jimin's lips.

"I want you to suck my cock while TaeTae fucks you," Jimin says with a smirk. "Can you do that for me, baby?"

Jeongguk's breath hitches, and he nods his head, whining a hum in response. Jimin continues to kiss him, and Jeongguk wonders how Jimin's legs aren't tired from squatting this whole time, but he doesn't question it because as long as Jimin continues to kiss him, nothing really matters. Jeongguk hears the sound of a plastic cap pop open, and, moments later, cold, slick fingers prod at Jeongguk's hole. Taehyung brought lube.

The knowledge that Taehyung came prepared swims around Jeongguk's mind, but he struggles to think clearly as the tip of one finger breaches his hole and works in and out, slowly and gradually. Jeongguk moans and whines, and Jimin gently cradles his face and kisses his lips.

"So tight," Taehyung groans, grazing his lips and teeth over Jeongguk's sensitive thigh skin as he slowly works Jeongguk open.

Slowly, Taehyung stretches Jeongguk open with one finger, then with two fingers. As he presses the third finger into Jeongguk's ass, Jeongguk is panting and on the verge of insanity. If Taehyung touches his cock again, it will all be over for him.

Jimin holds Jeongguk's hair tight in his fists, licking and kissing Jeongguk's face, throat, and neck while Taehyung turns Jeongguk into a whimpering mess. And although Jeongguk's torso is beginning to feel sore from the concrete, he's too lost in bliss to mind.

"F-fuck," Jeongguk whines as Taehyung's fingers spin in and out of him. "Too much—aahhh—too much."

"You take my fingers so well, Ggukie," Taehyung groans, sucking sensitive marks into Jeongguk's thigh.

"Fuck, you should see him," Jimin whines to Taehyung while looking at Jeongguk. "He looks so good with swollen lips and pink cheeks."

"I bet he does," Taehyung says, pushing his fingers past the knuckles. Jeongguk chokes out a sob, feeling tears stick to his eyelashes, and Jimin smiles brightly at him.

It's not long before Jeongguk goes from being overwhelmed to begging for Taehyung to fuck him. Taehyung begins to finger Jeongguk's ass roughly, punching moans from Jeongguk's chest, and Jeongguk holds Jimin's head tightly, fingers squeezing his hair while Jimin sucks his lips and giggles.

"Gonna make you cum first," Taehyung groans. "Want you to be sensitive and overstimulated while you take my cock. Want you to cry out my name."

Jeongguk doesn't have a chance to process Taehyung's words before Taehyung grabs Jeongguk's cock, collects the precum that's dripped from his slit, and twists his shaft in his palm. Jeongguk practically blacks out, moaning loudly into Jimin's mouth as pleasure soars through his body at an alarming rate. Taehyung's fingers brush over Jeongguk's prostate, and Jeongguk cries out.

"That's it, Ggukie, cum for me."

"F-fuck," Jeongguk squeals as his orgasm rips through him. His legs shake, knees scraping against the wall through denim as Jeongguk sprays his load against the concrete.

"What do you say to Tae, baby?" Jimin purrs.

"Th—thank you!" Jeongguk whines. "Thank you, Taehyung."

Taehyung slowly releases Jeongguk's cock and pulls his fingers from his ass, and Jeongguk kisses Jimin desperately as his high continues to jitter through his limbs.

"Such a good boy," Jimin says as he pulls from the kiss. "So good for us."

Jeongguk thinks he hears the lube bottle open, thinks he hears a belt buckle, but everything is hazy and heavy, and he can't sort his thoughts. Jimin stands and begins to undo his pants, and Jeongguk can see a bulge pressing against the material, making his mouth water.

"So eager for my cock, baby?" Jimin teases, and Jeongguk whimpers, looking up into Jimin's eyes and nodding his head.

Jimin pushes his pants down his hips and strokes his length, and Jeongguk opens his mouth, holding his tongue out, eager to taste Jimin and make him feel good. The sight of Jimin stroking his pretty cock has the blood flowing back into Jeongguk's, and he whines when Jimin keeps his distance and doesn't give Jeongguk what he wants.

"Ready?" Taehyung asks, squeezing Jeongguk's ass and spreading him open. He angles Jeongguk's hips up and must kick the sweater, or whatever he had on the floor, under Jeongguk's feet because Jeongguk can sort of stand still without sliding.

"Yes," Jimin responds with a smirk.

Jimin approaches and takes a handful of Jeongguk's hair, stroking his cock right in front of Jeongguk's lips. Drool pools around the tip of Jeongguk's tongue, and he whimpers.

"3," Taehyung says.

"2," Jimin responds.

"1," they both say in unison as the tips of their cocks enter Jeongguk's body.

Jeongguk moans deeply as Jimin fills his mouth with his length, and Taehyung rocks his tip back and forth, penetrating Jeongguk little by little until both cocks fill Jeongguk's holes. Taehyung's cock is big, and Jeongguk's muffled voice comes out deep and wet around Jimin's cock, sputtering drool with each harsh exhale.

"Fuck, that’s it Ggukie" Jimin whines as he slowly rocks his hips.

"So fucking tight," Taehyung groans as he slowly rocks his, as well.

Tears stream down Jeongguk's face as he's spit-roasted on the cocks of his two pretty friends. He wishes he could lay on his back and watch the stars in Taehyung's eyes as he fucks him, but he's happy he got to watch Jimin smile at him while he was stretched. Having his mouth fucked makes it difficult to see anything else, anyway, and he likes being used by them both.

"This was such a good idea, wasn't it, baby?" Jimin moans as he ruts his hips into Jeongguk's mouth. "I can't believe it worked. I can't believe you actually got stuck."

A new wave of panic surges through Jeongguk, but it's muted by the pleasure he feels as both men begin to pick up their paces and fuck him. He reasons with himself that they're joking, that Jimin is a troublemaker and would make a joke like that at a time like this, but there's a part of him that can't help but wonder.

"Almost made it too easy," Taehyung grunts. His hips begin to slam into Jeongguk roughly, and Jeongguk sucks in his stomach, trying to prevent his skin from scraping against the cement. Taehyung must notice, or maybe the realization hits him, because he slows and rolls his hips rather than ruts them.

Jeongguk sucks in his cheeks as Jimin pulls his cock out and does his best to keep his throat nice and relaxed when Jimin pushes his cock back in. Jimin's grip on Jeongguk's hair tightens, and he begins to moan deeper and longer. Jeongguk can tell Jimin is reaching his limit and sucks his cheeks harder.

"That's right, baby, make me cum," Jimin sobs. "Will you swallow for me?"

Jeongguk attempts to nod his head and hum in affirmation, but he doesn't have much range of motion or ability to intone. Still, Jimin understands and rocks his hips in a deep, steady motion while his moans echo off the walls. Jimin pulls his cock from Jeongguk's mouth and whines, "Open, baby," and Jeongguk obeys, opening his mouth wide and holding his tongue out.

Jimin braces himself against the wall as he strokes his cock, and when he sprays his hot release on Jeongguk's tongue, he moans a breathy, pretty sound. Jimin's cum tastes tangy and sweet, and Jeongguk swallows it with a smile and licks away a drop that was dribbled onto his lip.

Taehyung pulls out and backs up, causing a needy whine from Jeongguk, and Taehyung places his hands on Jeongguk's ribs. He twists his hands to the left and says, "Just twist this way a little."

Jeongguk is exhausted and still on a cloud of bliss, but he attempts to do as he's told. Once he's twisted some, Taehyung grabs his hips and yanks on him, and Jeongguk comes somewhat loose. A surge of excitement mixed with anxiety rushes through him.

"Can you twist a little more?" Taehyung asks, and Jeongguk does.

When Taehyung tugs on Jeongguk again, he comes loose some more. From here, Jeongguk's feet are more stable on the ground, and he's able to push himself back out of the hole. Jeongguk backs up and leans with his hands on the edge of the hole, panting hard now that he can breathe with his whole chest.

But Taehyung has other plans and grabs Jeongguk by the shoulders and stands him up. Jeongguk grunts as he's pushed into the wall beside the hole and moans as Taehyung shoves his thick cock back into him.

Taehyung fucks Jeongguk hard, slamming his hips into him. One hand holds Jeongguk's hips while the other snakes around Jeongguk's throat, and Jeongguk sobs and moans, feeling himself plummet quickly toward another orgasm. Jeongguk neither sees nor hears Jimin come back to their side of the wall, but he notices the light of more flashlights to the side and feels Jimin wedge himself between Jeongguk and the wall.

Jeongguk screams Taehyung’s name just as Taehyung wanted, and when Jimin takes Jeongguk's cock into his mouth and sucks hard, and Jeongguk cries out loudly, alternating their names until his throat feels sore and all he can do is say vowels. Jeongguk's legs tremble hard as he chokes sob after sob while Taehyung's thick, slick cock and Jimin's warm, wet mouth pull Jeongguk's orgasm from him.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so hard," Taehyung whines, tugging on Jeongguk's throat until his face is next to Taehyung’s.

Jimin sucks the soul from Jeongguk's cock, milking him of every drop of his release until Jeongguk is trembling and whimpering and crying that he's too sensitive. Jimin releases Jeongguk's spent, heavy cock, and catches his breath before wiggling out from between him and the wall. Taehyung ruts his hips into Jeongguk several more times before he pulls out. Jeongguk expects to feel Taehyung cum on his ass, but as he falls against the wall and gets his bearings, he looks to the side and finds Jimin still on his knees, finishing Taehyung with his mouth.

"Holy fuck," Jeongguk mutters, wiping the sweat from his forehead that he didn't have the wherewithal to feel until this moment. "What the fuck, you guys."

Taehyung moans as he cums into Jimin's mouth, and Jeongguk twists himself around to lean his back against the wall and watch Jimin swallow his load. Jeongguk bends at the knee, wincing when his sore ribs ache and rests his palms against his knees. Jimin releases Taehyung's cock with a grin, and Taehyung wipes his arm over his forehead; they're all a fucking mess. As Jeongguk surveys the area, lit by flashlights that have been left on the floor, he notices that it was a towel that Taehyung had placed on the floor, not the sweater he supposedly packed.

"You fuckers planned this," Jeongguk pants, shaking his head in disbelief. "You could have just fucked me in a bed like normal people, but instead you—you—"

Jimin chuckles and sits back on his knees. "Yeah," he admits, "but this was so fucking hot we couldn't resist."

"Do you have any clue how fucking scared I was?" Jeongguk whines.

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair and leans against the wall in front of Jeongguk, causing Jeongguk to stand straight.

"I wish I could have seen your face," Taehyung says. "I bet the panic was so fucking sexy."

"It was," Jimin mutters.

"What's even over there?" Jeongguk asks as Jimin packs the bottle of lube into Taehyung's backpack and picks up the flashlights.

Jimin smiles widely. "Nothing. It looks just like this side."

Jeongguk exhales deeply and shakes his head. He can't help but laugh as he mutters, "I fucking hate you two."

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#vminkook #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #bts smut #fic: stuck #bts dead dove

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xxang3l-trapxx · 1 year

Text

Dahlias for Wendy

She calls herself Wendy because it’s feminine and as far enough from her deadname as possible.

The idea of Wendy as a name comes to her while she’s watching The Shining on a rainy May night when she’s eleven, and she sees Wendy Torrance beat her husband in the face with a baseball bat, and in a fucked up way; that name clicks for her. Mrs. Torrance is trapped, scared and hysterical, just like her. After Jack Torrance freezes to death in the snow, and the credits roll, she repeats the name to herself.

“Wendy, Wendy, Wendy,” she repeats. The name is foreign to her, but it feels right.

30 minutes later, Wendy creeps into her parent’s room, leaning on the doorframe. She talks to them both, talking about her new revelation about her new name.

“Please call me Wendy.”

Her parents embrace her in a hug, telling her they love her, that she’ll always be their little Wendy.

A few months later, when her parents are away for work, Wendy sneaks into their room, stealing one of her mother’s dresses. It’s pink and long, reaching her mid thigh, and lace adorns the hem and short puffed sleeves.

Wendy feels like Buffalo Bill from The Silence of The Lambs when he wears the skin of half a dozen women: horrifying, dirty, wrong.

But when she strikes a pose in the full length mirror near the doorframe, a sense of euphoria fills her. She doesn’t look that bad now that she’s actually looking at herself.

“I like it,” she says aloud, hoping Julie won’t hear her (she’s supposed to be outside playing), “Wish it wasn’t so prudish though.”

Before she can try on another dress, she hears her mother coming up the driveway and into the house. Wendy freezes, paralyzed by fear, by the thoughts of what her mother might do to her.

She’s halfway undressed when her mother walks into the room, and time seems to freeze for a minute.

The older woman gives a tired smile, leaning against the doorframe.

“Out of all dresses, why that one? It’s so…”

Wendy finishes her sentence, “Prudish? Homely?“

The two of them burst out into laughter, clutching their stomachs and falling to the floor.

Her mother helps her change out of the dress, and in no time she’s back to a white T-shirt and basketball shorts.

“I’ll buy you a new dress. Something less ‘Little House on the Prairie’,” she says as Wendy trudges down the hall to her room.

If by chance Wendy notices a silk lavender minidress draped over her chair three days later, she doesn’t say anything.

A month after that, in the dog days of August, Wendy asks to try on makeup.

She and Jason are suspended in the latter’s hammock in his backyard, sipping cherry Cokes and discussing Wendy’s transition when she brings the topic of makeup to the table.

“I want to try makeup. Maybe some eyeshadow, mascara, I dunno. Too much will make my face feel heavy,” Wendy absentmindedly says, crumpling up her can of coke and tossing it into the outside garbage can.

Jason sets his can on the table beside the hammock and leans forward, his chin in his hands.

“I think you’d look good either with lipgloss or lipstick. I think too much would make you look super made up and fake,” he states, crossing his legs. Wendy frowns.

“Well I wanna look made up and fake. I wanna look…like other girls. Like, I dunno…Brittney Spears or Christina Aguilera. I’d rather look super fake than look like…a boy.” She spits boy with such venom, Jason thinks the word is like poison to her.

He slaps his knee, and maneuvers his way out of the hammock, and trudges his way through the grass.

“Wait, where are you going?” Wendy’s voice is filled with fear, is Jason going to tell his parents? Will he laugh at her?

He turns around and smirks. “To go get some money! We’ll go to a drugstore and get some makeup to start you off,” he says, a hint of mirth in his voice.

Wendy goes to follow him inside, as Jason calls out to his mother that the two of them are going to the corner store, and she alerts him to 20 dollars in their junk drawer. The two of them shout thanks to Mrs.Wise, hop on Jason’s bike and ride off into the late afternoon sun.

40 minutes, a little waiting around and some debating later, Wendy and Jason are riding back from the drugstore, a bag of the makeup they purchased in the basket of Jason’s bike. There’s e.l.f lipgloss, Covergirl eyeshadow and Maybeline mascara in there, alongside some candy.

They hop off of Jason’s bike, Jason leads Wendy into the first floor bathroom of the Wise residence, setting the makeup onto the toilet tank lit and helping Wendy sit on the toilet.

“Alright,” he says, out of breath, “You ready do this shit?”

Wendy smiles eagerly and nods. “Uh, yeah! Go nuts I guess!”

Jason smirks and gets to work. He starts off with the eyeshadow, in a shimmery blue, and digs his thumb into the pigment, swiping it over Wendy’s eyelids. Switching to his index finger, he feathers it out to the corners of her eye.

Mascara follows after, and Wendy opens her eyes and tilts her head back as Jason swipes the mascara wand on eyelashes, going back into the tube for at least 3 coats. Occasionally he pokes her in the eye; and she has to prevent herself from crying.

Lastly, the lipgloss. Jason accidentally fucks it up and there’s lipgloss on cheek, but Wendy doesn’t care. She’s one step closer to feeling pretty, one step closer to geeking truly happy. Jason puts everything back into the bag, puts his hand over her eyes and leads her to the mirrors affixed above the sink.

“You ready to see your makeover?” he asks so earnestly and lovingly that Wendy thinks she might cry.

Wendy nods and smiles, and her friend takes this as the sign to remove his hands from her eyes. She looks into the mirror, studying her new appearance, and deduces that she looks…horrible.

The eyeshadow reaches just below her eyebrows, one of her eyeballs black with mascara and her lashes look like spiders with how clumpy they are, and her lips don’t even have gloss on them.

Not wanting to be dishonest, Wendy voices her thoughts to Jason.

“I look like shit, I’m sorry. Honest to g_d, I look like a clown,” she states, turning to Jason.

He playfully shoves her and grins. “Oh fuck you! You had me spend my money, and you don’t even like the look? Rude,” he isn’t mad at all, instead bursting out into laughter. Wendy follows soon after.

As they clutch their stomachs, holding onto each other so they don’t fall, Wendy feels a sense of ease fill her. Sure, she may look stupid, but looking stupid and fake and plastic eases the pain of not looking like who she wants.

She feels pretty, happy, calm.

She feels like Wendy Christensen, a girl.

@thearcher-winchester-version @brains4ne @roryslvrr @cinemagh0ul @kymyit @seikointelli @ilovefinaldestination @taytumelise

#wendy christensen #final destination 3 #nem’s writing #i believe in transfem Wendy supremacy soooo #take this fic!!#also #I’m not transfeminine so this is not a complete representation of young trans girls #but I hope I was able to at least do the trans girl experience justice!#cw: dysphoria #transfem

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