#I just want my own place with a roommate or two and being able to afford some hobby supplies. Why does it feel like peak luxury even with

[denizkabuklusu]

The job i want might barely pay the bills and im afraid of it being lowkey risky due to reasons and im genuinely scared of moving back to angara and Roleplaying As an Adult Who Has Her Shit Together. Like what bothers me is that i want my economic independence bc 1) i want to be independent in general and 2) shit is expensive man. I cant rely on my family forever like they are able and willing rn but im tiiiiired of this guilt. But at the same time. Well. Turkey

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 11

Summary: James has had time to think during the days he'd been away and through this, has come to a shocking revelation.

CW: Swearing, creepy man being unnerving (nothing inappropriate happens though).

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

This is a shorter one but I just wanted to get something out. I have more of a solid plan now of what I want to happen next to stay tuned for some more updates soon!

--

You started to feel better over the next few days. Remus checked on you periodically to make sure you were making progress while Sirius hovered awkwardly, not quite sure what he was supposed to do whenever the two of you happened to be in the same vicinity.

You weren't sure what had come over him recently, but things between the two of you had been stilted to say the least.

By Wednesday you were back on your feet and back at work, meaning Remus' job was done, however, you desperately hoped that things between the two of you would continue to be civil in the aftermath. Who knows? Maybe you'd even become friends.

James was also getting home from his trip today and you were bubbling with a combination of nerves and excitement. You'd found yourself missing him while he was away. Everything had been strange, to say the least and James was the person out of all your roommates who you were the most comfortable around by far. He just had this light energy about him that was able to balance everything out around your house and without it, things had just felt off. You couldn't quite place your finger on what it was but James Potter just had a way of putting you at ease.

Although, you couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for wanting him there for your own selfish purposes. You knew things had been particularly rough for him after the revelation at New Years and you knew he needed this time to get away from everything and clear his head.

You pondered this concept as you sat back in your desk chair, pen pressed into your cheek and eyes gazing off to nowhere. When did things become so complicated? you thought to yourself.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Mary sang, sliding across the linoleum office floor on her own chair. Mary was always pretty but you took note of it today in particular. Her hair was pulled up on top of her head in a tidy bun and she had a burgundy lipstick on, one that was a departure from the usual neutral tones she went for at work.

You raised a brow at her, choosing to pass by her question.

"You look lovely. Got plans tonight?"

Mary bit her lip as she often did when she was excited.

"It's Lily and I's four month anniversary tonight! I know it sounds silly to celebrate it but if I'm being honest, it's kind of a big deal! Today marks the longest official relationship I've been in!"

"Oh my gosh! Mary, that's wonderful!" you chirped. Then you paused. "Hold on, what do you mean 'official relationship'?"

Mary sighed. "Well, technically there was this guy in high school that I talked to for like a year over Snapchat but he lived in America and we never met in person so it doesn't really count."

You rolled your eyes at her fondly. "You had an internet boyfriend?"

She gave you a gentle slap on the shoulder. "What? I was like fourteen!"

"Okay, fine. Whatever. Congratulations anyway," you replied.

"Thanks girl! Now tell me," she scooted forward slightly on her chair, leaning in as if to share a secret. "What's going on with you and Sirius?"

You sighed thickly. "Unfortunately, there's nothing to tell."

"Really?" she looked surprised. "So you still haven't talked about anything that happened on New Years... or you know, before that?"

You shook your head. "Nope. In fact, honestly, we've barely talked at all recently. It's like he's avoiding me or something."

"That's is odd," Mary muttered. "I mean Sirius isn't usually known for being subtle. For some reason I had it in my head that maybe he would've gone all prince charming and come to your aid while you were ill," she chuckled.

"Ha! No, none of that. Every time we were in the same room, he'd just stare at me like I had two heads and then stutter out some excuse to rush away."

Mary let out a genuine laugh at this. "Yeah, actually that does sound like him. He's uh, not really much of a caretaker."

"No. Well, actually, it was... um, Remus who ended up doing most of the caretaking," you muttered bashfully.

Her eyebrows shot up like rockets. "I'm sorry, WHAT? Did I just hear you say Remus, the man that supposedly can't stand you, looked after you while you were unwell this last week?"

You shrugged but you couldn't deny the way your cheeks warmed at the thought. "He was quite wonderful actually."

A playful smirk overtook her. "Yeah, I bet he was. What? Did he like, bring you soup, and stroke your hair until you fell asleep?"

"Shut up," you joked. "You read too many romance novels."

"Hey! It's not my fault that you're living out the plot of New Girl!"

"You know, it actually kind of is, right?"

She shrugged. "Well, maybe that was the plan all along. I think Remus would definitely be Nick-"

"Anyway," you stated pointedly, before her comparison could get too deep. "You should probably get going. It's after 5 and you don't want to be late for your special date tonight!"

"Oh, shit! You're right," she exclaimed, jumping from her chair and racing to grab her coat.

You chuckled to yourself as you watcher her scramble for her things, calling out a hurried "goodbye" as she headed for the exit.

You took your time packing up that night, both having nowhere to be and also not looking forward to going home. You wondered if maybe Sirius would be out working tonight but you doubted it since James was supposed to have arrived home today and you suspected they'd want to spend some time together.

"Are you heading off now then?"

You abruptly turned on your heel, eyes wide as you noticed Glenn standing closely behind you. You hated when he did that. He was always creeping up on you when you were distracted.

You gave him an awkward smile, hoping he would say a quick goodbye and then leave you be.

He returned the gesture broadly, flashing his perfectly pearly white teeth in a way that you could tell usually worked to make girls swoon. It didn't, however, work so well on you.

"Yeah. Just finishing up now."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Ah. Well I see that Mary has made an early exit. Do you need some company walking out?"

You cringed internally. There was something just so artificial about him. Like he was constantly putting on an act, displaying qualities that he thought people liked to see. But you could see right through it and honestly, it left a bad taste in your mouth.

"That's very kind but I'm okay by myself."

He shook his head stubbornly. "Nonsense! What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go alone in the cold?"

You restrained yourself from rolling your eyes. Clearly it wasn't going to be so easy to shake him off.

"Okay, then," you relented unwittingly. "Lets go."

The walk from your office on the seventh floor down to the front exit was particularly awkward. Glenn hovered at your side, not saying much but just sending you that unnerving smile of his every so often. As you approached the front steps, you were more then relieved to see a familiar figure waiting by the door.

"James! What are you doing here?"

He looked up from his phone, flashing you a genuine grin, one that made your heart feel warm, instead of causing bile to want to rise in your throat the way Glenn's did.

"Hey!"

He approached with rapid footsteps, engulfing you in his warm arms. You relaxed into his hold for a moment, savoring the feeling.

You pulled away at the sound of a throat clearing beside you. Glenn was looking between the two of you with an unreadable expression.

"Oh! Sorry," James corrected himself, only then noticing the other man. "I'm James, Y/n's roommate. Nice to meet you."

He stuck a hand out towards Glenn, which the latter man shook with a reluctant hesitation.

"Glenn Mulciber. We work together."

You didn't like the way the man was looking at James, something akin to jealously flashing across his eyes in a way that made your skin crawl.

"Well, thanks for walking me out, Glenn but James and I'd better be going. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, right. Okay," was all he said before he turned on his heel and stalked away, his demeanor suddenly very cold.

"Well, he's an odd sort of person," James observed as the two of you began the journey home.

"I'm not a fan of his, to tell you the truth," you responded. "He's weird. He kind of creeps me out."

"Hmm," James muttered thoughtfully, although you could tell his mind was elsewhere.

"You don't have to keep coming to pick me up from work, you know? I'm perfectly capable of making it home myself."

James shrugged. "I know, I just like spending time with you."

You felt your heart swim at his words and had to turn your gaze away from him in the hopes that he wouldn't see the embarrassment on your face.

"Well, um... how was your trip?"

"Good. Yeah. It was good."

He was fiddling with the hem of his coat, looking vaguely off into the distance as he spoke to you. Something seemed off about him. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what was going on.

"Is everything okay?" you questioned. "You seem nervous or something."

"Um, well," he hesitated for a moment before turning to face you. "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

You felt your heart sink into your stomach as a slew of worst case scenarios began to run through your mind. You did your best to keep composed.

"Okay, what's up?"

James released a heavy breath as if he was preparing himself for the words to follow.

"So, while I was away, I had a lot of time to think about things,"

"What kinds of things?"

"Well, you know, just everything that's been going on. When I found out about Lily and Mary back on New Years Eve, I was heartbroken..."

You sighed feeling a rush of sympathy. "Yeah, James about that, I'm really sorry. You shouldn't have had to find out that way, I-"

"No! No, it's okay!" he interrupted. "What I was going to say was actually that I was heartbroken at first. But then the more I thought about it, the more I realised, I've been in love with Lily for so long that I think at some point I just started to like the idea of us together more than I actually liked her, if that makes sense."

You sent him a look of confusion.

"That's not to say I don't like her of course," he rushed to amend. "She's a great friend and obviously she's beautiful and a wonderful person and all that but I think that I just got so comfortable with wanting her that I didn't realise when I didn't really want her anymore..."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the boy’s rambling. "James, what are you trying to say?"

Then he stopped walking suddenly and you followed suit. He turned to look at you then, his face serious and eyes ablaze with an unfamiliar friction.

"I think what I'm trying to say is... that night made me realise that I have feelings for someone else."

In that moment, despite the cold of the street, heat began to swirl around you. You felt energy of an unknown source drawing you together in a magnetic pull as James gazed down at you with a look of yearning clouding his dark eyes. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked up at him. Your eyes raked over every inch of his face; his sweet smile, the dimples in his cheeks, the stupid curls that he couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried. He was beautiful.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and your lips connected.

It was like the world faded around you. The noise of the cars and the crowds and the hustle and bustle of London in the evening, all just melted away. You didn't care that you were standing in the middle of the street, with icy tendrils of wind piercing your skin. You didn't care that you had a rock in your shoe or that your hair was blowing in your face. In that moment, all you cared about was him and the feeling of his soft lips against yours.

It wasn't desperate and passionate the way it had been with Sirius. No, James' kiss was sweeter, gentler, filled with warmth and comfort just like he was.

When you pulled back, James had a playful smirk on his face. He licked his lips, looking down at you affectionately as he used a finger to push his glasses up on his nose.

"So," he muttered. "Will you go out with me, then?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course I will, you idiot."

He laughed a little and intertwined your fingers with his own.

"Okay good. I just wanted to make sure."

You scoffed as you began to walk once more, hand in hand and smiles painted on your swollen lips.

--

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people, @ch4rlotte35, @insideoutjulie, @hiireadstuff, @laniirackssss, @starrystormwritings, @strategicsweetheart, @1800brat, @sammyreid, @frootloops1213, @ill-be-okay-soon-enough, @loveelylani, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @that-gay-person-27, @serenadingtigers, @lily-mylove, @arielthee-potterhead, @treefairy-28, @happycatanxie, @lettertovera, @captainlunaxmen, @ellieshifts3, @marauderslover18, @hidontmindtheintrovert

[luvergirl21]

🫵 roommate hamzah 👅

hamzah x reader smut...nsfw warning

hi everyone!

below is my first ever smut so please be nice!

it ends on a pretty big cliffhanger so let me know if yall want a part 2. and i hate coming up with my own ideas so pleaseeeee send me prompts i will love you forever.

summary: you and hamzah are roommates and best friends. but when hamzah comes home pissed one day, y'all hash it out and things get heated.

warnings: nsfw under cut. if you are under the age of 18, do NOT read please.

word count: 3076

You and Hamzah had been roommates and best friends for around four months now. It all started when you moved to Toronto and needed a place to stay. You had collabed with Slushy Noobz multiple times before, being a vlogger/gaming youtuber yourself, so when you arrived in Toronto, practically homeless, Hamzah offered for you to stay with him in his small apartment while you get yourself back on your feet.

Tonight was a crisp fall evening, and the two of you had just come back from carving pumpkins for Mandy’s vlog. Hamzah had driven the two of you home in silence, which was unusual, as normally the two of you were blasting music and laughing while in the car. When he pulled into the small driveway, he killed the engine and exited the car without a word. Normally, being the silly gentleman he was, he would come around to your side and open the door, but instead, he opted to leave you alone in the car, speechless. You scoffed, and exited the car, running to catch up with the taller man.

“Hamzah!” you call out, entering the house. The dark-haired man was in the kitchen, rifling through the cabinets for what you assumed to be his late-night snack-fest. “Hamzah,” you deadpanned, coming up right behind him. He continued to purposefully ignore you. You grab one of his broad shoulders and, with all the strength within you, whip him around so that he’s facing you. His big eyes widened at the sudden strength that had taken over your demeanor.

He looked down at you. “What?” he asked harshly, not a single trace of empathy present in his rough voice.

Anger seized your mind. “What?” you mocked in a high-pitched voice. “What the fuck do you mean by ‘What’? What is up with you, dude? You’ve had, like, the strangest attitude since we left Martin and Mandy’s.”

Hamzah’s brows furrowed. “Just go upstairs, y/n,” he said. “I’m too tired to deal with this right now.” 

You laughed harshly. “You’re ‘too tired’?” you asked in mock disbelief, air-quoting his own words. “That’s not an excuse. You’re never this rude to me.”

Hamzah made a noise low in his throat, almost an animalistic growl. “Go the fuck upstairs, y/n.”

His adamance and unwillingness to explain himself was starting to really piss you off, the small ember of anger burning inside you expanding until you were engulfed in hot rage. You shoved him backwards and he stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the sink. He looked at you with an emotion in his eyes that you were unable to discern. Before you were able to really process what the hell had just happened, Hamzah was upright and closed the inches between you two in seconds. He grabbed you by the front of your hoodie, before roughly backing you into the counter. Your hip slammed into the corner of the wood and you winced. Tears welled up in your eyes, but Hamzah didn’t seem to notice. He was breathing heavily, hunched over your smaller frame, face inches from yours.

“I want you to go upstairs, y/n,” he said, voice uncharacteristically low.

“Ugh!” you say loudly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You shoved the taller man backwards. “That fucking hurt, you asshole!” Before you know what happened, your hand connected with his face, a loud slap that resonated throughout the whole apartment. Hamzah’s head whipped to the side and his eyes widened, his hand instantly reaching to the wounded area. You gasped and covered your mouth. 

“H-hamzah,” you whispered, stuttering over your words. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, I swear, i-i-it just came out of me.” Hamzah looked at you with that same look from before: pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, plush lips that his tongue flicked out and wetted. His chest was heaving up and down. He made a move as if to come towards you, but before he could, you fled upstairs to your room.

You slammed the door shut behind you before sliding down to crouch on the floor. You curled your knees into your chest and breathed heavily. What the absolute fuck just happened? Your back was sweating, and there was a pounding knot in your stomach that you didn’t even want to think about. The way Hamzah had looked at you…fuck. It was almost primal, like he was about to throw you around and fuck you until you couldn’t breath. It was embarrassing to admit it to yourself, but you wanted him to; you wanted it so badly that right now you couldn’t think of anything else, and that pounding in your stomach just got louder and louder.

You shook your head and stood up, legs trembling with desire. What the hell am I thinking about right now? You thought. This is Hamzah, my roommate, the guy who was kind enough to let me live with him for four fucking months, and I’m over here fantasizing about him railing me. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You went over to your closet and changed out of your sweaty clothes. You put on a cute pair of floral boxer shorts and one of Hamzah’s t-shirts. You liked wearing them for two reasons: first, they were way too big on you and usually fell to just above your knees, and second, they smelled just like him, even after washing. You wandered over to the mirror, gazing at yourself in the reflection. You pulled on his shirt, lifting it up to your nose and inhaling his musk. Your own dilated eyes reflected back at you, almost the exact same look that Hamzah had given you earlier.

Fuck it.

You exited your room and beelined it for Hamzah’s. Your mind was blank except for an unquenchable lust that infiltrated your brain, conjuring inappropriate thoughts that fueled the incessant pounding in your cunt. You reached his door and pressed your ear to the wood. Hearing the tell-tale clack of his keyboard, you knew that he was working at his desk. You knocked on the door, once, twice, nobody answered. Knowing him, he probably had his big ass headphones on and couldn’t hear shit even if he wanted to. You opened the door a crack and, just like you predicted, Hamzah was sitting at his desk in the dark with his big headphones on, the only source of light coming from the monitor. You crept up to him. His big eyes were glued to the screen; he didn’t even hear you come in. You leaned down until you were right next to his ear.

“Hamzah,” you whispered. The curly-haired man almost jumped out of his seat, letting out a girlish scream. When he saw it was you, he clutched his heart, breathing heavily.

“Hey,” you said, once he took his headphones fully off.

“Jesus Christ, y/n, you scared the fuck outta me,” he said.

You giggled. “Yeah, my bad. I didn’t know how else to get your attention,” you said sheepishly. Hamzah was looking directly into your eyes, and you swallowed thickly. “Look, I just wanted to apologize for earlier, slapping you and shit, I don’t know what came over me.”

Hamzah laughed. “Nah, I totally deserved it. I was being a dick. I was just pissed off about something and I took it out on you.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t mean to get aggressive with you is all.”

“What were you so pissed off about?”

Hamzah chuckled awkwardly. “It was nothing really.”

“Didn’t seem like nothing,” you responded, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. “Come on, man, we tell each other everything.”

“Well, it was just about this conversation I had earlier with Martin,” he confessed.

“Oh, yeah? What happened?”

“Um, well, I-” he stuttered over his words, alternating between holding eye contact with you and the floor. “I kinda like this girl, I guess, and I keep giving her these hints but she just doesn’t seem to understand.”

Your face flushed. You felt embarrassed walking into Hamzah’s room in a horny state when he had a crush on someone else. “I see,” you said in response to his confession.

“I was talking it over with Martin, you know, and I just couldn’t figure out how to confess it to her. We’re friends and I love that we’re friends and it would be stupid to fuck up our friendship by confessing my feelings.”

“How do you know she doesn’t feel the same?” you asked.

“I mean I don’t, not really, but I’m 99% sure that she doesn’t.”

“Well, you’re never gonna be 100% sure unless you tell her,” you said. “Besides, whoever this girl is is hella lucky. She’s going to be dating the most beautiful, funniest guy I know.” Hamzah grinned at you, teeth and everything, as his cheeks flushed slightly.

“Really?”

“100%” you responded.

“Can I have a hug?” he asked. You grinned at him, jumping up from the bed. Hamzah lept up from his chair and ran to you. He leaned down and you wrapped your hands around his neck. His big arms gripped your waist and lifted you up, spinning you around. You giggled into his shoulder. He put you down and the two of you stood there for a second, arms wrapped around each other. Hamzah’s head nuzzled deeper into your shoulder, and you felt his hot breath tickling your back.

A wide grin broke your face. “Dude, are you smelling me?”

Hamzah broke away from the hug, grinning sheepishly. “Maybe…you just always smell really good.” His eyes looked you up and down, grazing your bare legs to the t-shirt you were wearing. “Is that my shirt?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Bashful, you felt your face growing flushed. “Yeah, it is. I can take it off if you want though.” You turned towards the door to go change, but Hamzah reached down and grabbed your hand, stopping you. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” he said. “Looks good on you.”

You felt your face heat with an uncontrollable flush. “U-um thanks,” you said. Hamzah didn’t let go of your hand and you looked down at your intertwined fingers. Hamzah looked down too and audibly gulped.

“Y/n?” he said.

“Mmh?” you said, not taking your eyes off of your hands.

“Look at me, y/n,” Hamzah said, his voice rougher than usual. You lifted your eyes to Hamzah’s face and almost gasped at the expression that painted his countenance. It was the same one from earlier: the dilated pupils, the flushed cheeks, the plump, red lips. Your lashes fluttered. Hamzah grabbed your other hand and, holding both of your hands in one of his big ones, reached up to tuck a piece of hair that had fallen from your bun behind your ear. “I need to tell you something,” he whispered. His big brown eyes bore holes into your own, and the intense eye contact made your hands sweaty and your core pound. 

“I, um, I’m in love with you, y/n,” he confessed, at a decibel so low you were unsure you heard him right. He got louder. “And if you don’t feel the same about me—which you probably don’t—we can forget about this whole thing and just go back to how things were if that’s—” You cut off his rambling and leaned up, pressing your lips against his. You pulled back and smiled, gazing into his eyes, which were so dark they looked black. “Holy fuck,” he breathed out, smiling widely, the corners of his eyes crinkling in pure delight.

“Yeah,” you said. “Holy fuck.”

Hamzah looked down at your hands, which were still intertwined with his. “C-can I kiss you again?” he asked.

You giggled. “Yes, Hamzah,” you responded. If it was possible, he smiled wider still and leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. At first, the kiss was sweet and light, but slowly, the two of you began breathing heavier and heavier, and Hamzah’s hands began to roam your body. Desperation filled your body rapidly as Hamzah’s hands alternated between squeezing your waist, your hips, and your ass. His hands were so much bigger than you thought, they were almost able to completely engulf your entire waist. He pulled you closer to him still and you reached up to tug on his dark curls. As soon as your hand made contact with his hair, he groaned deep in his chest and the sound reverberated throughout your entire body, landing especially in your throbbing core. The hand in his hair seemed to spur him on further as he reached down to grab your ass, lifting you up effortlessly. He walked you over to the bed, throwing you onto the mattress and crawling up towards you. He pulled your hair out of your bun, letting the strands splay across the pillow.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he confessed, before diving down to kiss your neck. Sucking and biting and nipping at the delicate skin by your collarbones. Your hands delve into his curls, yanking at them, letting out a breathless moan when he begins to suck on a particularly sensitive spot behind your ear. Hamzah’s hands snake underneath your shirt, playing with the underside of your boobs. You tug at Hamzah’s shirt and he stops kissing you to remove it. You spent a few seconds admiring him. He’d been going to the gym more recently and it had definitely paid off. His broad shoulders and biceps were lean and muscular, but he still had just the right amount of tummy to make your core tighten. You sit up too and begin to take your shirt off, but Hamzah stops you.

“Keep it on, baby,” he says, breathing heavily. “You look so good in my clothes.” He goes back to kissing your neck, reaching his hands underneath your shirt to squeeze your tits. “I’ve always thought that,” he says in between kisses. “Whenever I see you wearing my clothes, my shirts, my hoodies, it made me so fucking hard I can’t think straight.” You let out a breathless moan at his words. He abruptly stops kissing your neck and stands up.

You look up in confusion. “What are you doing?” Hamzah says nothing, reaching down to grab your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed, your knees dangling over the edge. He kneels between your thighs, leaning down to press soft open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs.

You suck in a sharp breath. “Hamzah,” you say breathlessly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you from between your thighs, eyes wide and dilated. He looked like he was salivating, desperation written all over his face.

“Are you sure?”

He lifted one of your thighs onto your shoulder. “Ever since we first met, when I saw you for the first time, your big eyes, your little waist, I knew that I wanted to taste you. Half of the time I’m around you, I can’t think of anything else other than fucking you with my tongue, your hands gripping my hair until you cum on my mouth.”

“Holy fuck,” you breathed out, your core throbbing almost painfully. Hamzah just grinned at you. He lifted your t-shirt up slightly and slid his fingers into the waistband of your boxers before pulling them down and throwing them somewhere in the room. Coming face-to-face with you soaking pussy, he exhaled the breath he’d been holding in.

“Shit,” he said. “You’re so fucking wet.” He leaned into your pussy, shoving his big nose into your folds and inhaling your scent. You let out a hiss at the sudden contact. He lapped at your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking it with his deft tongue. “You taste better than I dreamed, baby,” he confessed. Your head was flung back in ecstasy and your hands reached down to grip onto his curls. When he hit a particularly good spot, you tugged on his hair tightly and he let out a moan that vibrated through your core. You looked down at Hamzah whose doe eyes were holding intense eye contact with you, watching your reaction for what felt good and what didn’t. You noticed that his hips were undulating, thrusting into sheets at the end of the bed. For some reason, it made the situation even hotter that Hamzah was turned on just by eating you out. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to release as your legs began shaking aggressively.

“H-Hamzah,” you whine. “Ugh, I’m close.”

Hamzah inserted one, then two fingers into your wet, overstimulated hole, rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Come on, baby,” he said roughly. “C-cum for me.” Your legs shaking and nose scrunched, you cried out and came all over Hamzah’s face. The second he felt you cum he let out a long whine that vibrated throughout your overstimulated pussy, and you noticed his hips slow to a stutter at the end of the bed.

“Holy shit, Hamzah,” you said, as you came down from your high. You looked down at the dark-haired man. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were glossy. A mixture of spit and your own juices covered his mouth and you felt another throb go through your core.

“Hamzah?” you repeated.

He looked up at you with those glossy eyes as if just remembering where he was. “Shit, y/n,” he responded.

“Hamzahhhhh,” you whined, crawling towards him near the end of the bed. “Will you let me return the favor?”

“I- um, I-I mean,” he stuttered, face flushing a deep shade of pink. You reached the end of the bed and noticed the dark, wet splotch spreading in his pants. Holy shit. You thought. He came from eating me out. That’s…that’s really fucking hot. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, standing up to clean himself off. You shoot to your feet, grabbing the hand that was about to enter his pants.

You look up at him with lust-filled eyes. “Let me,” you said. He looks at you with dilated pupils before nodding his head with frenzied agreement. You pull his sweatpants and boxers down. His softened cock was covered in cum, but as you gripped it in your hand, barely able to close your hand around it fully, it twitched to life again. Hamzah lets out a shaky sigh at the contact and you smirk up at the flustered man.

[peachhcs]

plz write a cute celebrini x fem reader 🙏🙏 ur writing is beyond amazing

oooh i've never written specifically for mack before so hopefully this isn't bad 😅

after mack’s face injury, his gf is quick to look after him once the game is done

masterlist

she waited impatiently near the doors of the locker room awaiting her boyfriend's arrival. y/n's mind couldn't stop replaying the horror on her features and everyone else's when they saw the blood trickle down macklin's face after a nasty high stick hit. she knew he was okay because he was right back on the ice once the bleeding stopped, but the image wouldn't shake the girl's brain.

lingering after the game felt so long this time around and y/n wondered if it was just because she was anxious about seeing her boyfriend and properly checking up on him. she swiped through twitter and instagram continuously while video replays of the rookie's hit filled her feeds. she just shut her phone off all together for now, not being able to watch the play anymore.

finally, the players began trickling out. y/n's head popped up, searching for the eyes of macklin in the crowd. she spotted him with will near the middle of the pack and he immediately found her gaze. will sensed that they probably wanted to talk, so he split off from the boy once they got closer, giving a small nod to y/n as he passed.

"hey," macklin began, but was caught off guard when y/n jumped into his arms.

"let me see it," she grabbed ahold of his chin, turning his face to the side to examine the new scar.

"it's really not that bad now. they cleared it up really good," the brunette tried reassuring his girlfriend knowing she probably had a hundred thoughts running through her.

"you scared the shit out of me when i saw all that blood. it looked a lot worse," y/n stepped back, arms crossing over her chest.

macklin frowned at the sudden distance between them, "i'm sorry, baby. i promise i'm fine. see?" he gave his best grin hoping to further prove how he was doing.

"well, if i see wilson, i'm gonna punch him myself," y/n huffed, looking around like she would catch the older player lingering somewhere.

macklin laughed, tugging y/n into his side and kissing the side of her head, "you're so cute when you're upset. i promise i'm fine though. i mean you saw me play afterwards."

"yeah you fucking power played. i guess that was your redemption," the two exchanged a laugh and macklin enjoyed finally pulling a smile from her.

"can i come back to your place tonight?" the boy wondered as they moved themselves closer to the exit.

"i thought that was a given already," y/n chuckled.

macklin went to tell will they were leaving before rushing out of the SAP center so he wouldn't have to do any press. most days he didn't mind, but tonight the boy was itching to get out of there and spend some much needed time with his girl. they hadn't seen each other since last weekend—school and hockey keeping them way too busy.

"just so you know, i am gonna baby you the whole night," y/n informed once they were securely in her car.

"mm, i can't wait. a face mask is just calling my name," the hockey player leaned back in the passenger seat, hand falling to the girl's lap as she pulled out of the parking lot.

luckily, there was no early morning practice tomorrow, so macklin was gonna use that to his full advantage and spend the night in y/n's dorm. the couple rode in comfortable silence into santa clara university, a convenient 7 minutes away from the arena so y/n never missed a home game.

she parked her car again and the couple hurried into her building. the few students wandering around the lobby caught sight of macklin's suit he put back on, a few of them recognizing him from as a sharks player and as y/n's boyfriend because he was over so much.

they lucked out with y/n's roommate hanging out with her own boyfriend tonight, so they had the whole dorm to themselves. macklin immediately thew his backpack onto the ground and shoved his suit jacket from his shoulders.

"gonna shower. i didn't really before we left. you're welcome to join me if you want," the brunette winked at the girl who flushed.

"wow, so classy of you. i did already shower this morning, so i'll have to pass this time," y/n laughed.

"damn, i thought you'd say yes. you sure you don't wanna shower again?" he winked again. y/n groaned, pushing her boyfriend to the bathroom.

"i'll be out here with your face mask."

the rookie accepted his lonely shower fate and disappeared into the bathroom. y/n took the opportunity to tidy up the room and get all the things she needed for their face masks.

20 minutes later, macklin came back out of the bathroom freshly showered and in more comfortable clothes. y/n hung up his suit jacket on the door of her closet, instructing him to do the same with the rest of the outfit so it wouldn't wrinkle.

the boy climbed into her bed a second later, positioning himself against her pillows, "i'm readyy," he sang.

"i've never known you to be so excited for a face mask," y/n grinned.

"it really makes my skin smooth, so i like it," the boy explained.

y/n handed mack her headband so his hair wouldn't be in his face or in the mask. he didn't hesitate to slip it over his head and expose his forehead. the girl giggled at the sight.

"are you laughing at my big forehead?" the boy raised his eyebrow, hands finding places on y/n's hips as she straddled his waist.

"maybe," she hummed, leaning forward to begin rubbing the cream on his skin.

mack admired her focused expression while just really taking the time to take in every part of her as she applied the mask. this was his favorite part of face masks because he could stare at her without shame and she hardly noticed because she was too focused on the mask.

"have i told you how beautiful you are?" the brunette wondered softly. he watched the way y/n's cheeks heated up into a deep blush.

"you have," she muttered.

"well, i'm gonna say it again. you're really beautiful," mack grinned.

"you're sappy tonight," y/n flushed.

"what? can i not say how beautiful my girlfriend is?"

"no, you can. thank you," she finished spreading the mask, leaning back to admire her work.

"how's it look?"

"great. i'lll let you know when five minutes are up," the girl set a timer on her phone and then mack grabbed the mask cream from her hands before she could set it back on the dresser.

she looked at her boyfriend quizzically.

"can i do yours?" he wondered with a soft expression.

y/n blushed again, "just don't get it in my hair."

"promise, i won't," macklin agreed and y/n let him have at it.

his touch was gentle as his fingers began rubbing around her skin. his lip poked out from his lips as he focused on doing it right. y/n loved how much he wanted to do it correctly for her sake and his expression really was just to die for.

"okay, did it," macklin leaned back to admire his work the same way y/n did. she loved the proud little smile on his lips, pulling her camera up to examine how well he did.

"wow, looks great, mack. your best one yet," y/n agreed.

"what can i say? practice makes perfect," the boy hummed, placing everything back onto her dresser.

"so how's your lip doing now?" y/n wondered as mack's hands wandered across the expanse of her hips and waist.

"i can't even feel it anymore, so good. i told you i'm fine," he eyed her.

"i know, just let me be a worry wart."

the sharks player smiled at her words knowing how much she liked to worry about things, especially the things that didn't need to be worried about. he reached up to quickly peck her lips, tryng to avoid getting face mask on one another.

"i love you," the brunette said.

y/n's smile grew, the whole i love you still new to them but heartwarming to hear, "i love you, too," she kissed him again and now they didn't care about getting face mask on one another.

[omagpies]

Recently saw your roleswap AU and I’m loving it! I have a few things I’m curious about:

1. So by my understanding Anya failed her flight certification 8 times and PE was cheap enough to be fine with that? Did she never pass? Makes sense, I’m just kinda clarifying lol

2. Does nurse!Curly also feel like he wants to try something different in his career like in canon? Did he also not have enough savings after PE went under? Did he go to nursing school or did he also fail his entrance exams?

3. What’s Daisuke’s story in this AU? Did his mom push him to go to trade school to become a mechanic? Did he do that on his own and his mom suggested working with PE?

4. It’s so interesting to me that Anya tried E-dating after getting back to earth and seemingly got rejected based on her appearance, poor girl :( but I’m kinda wondering about Curly’s perspective on this, did he have feelings for Anya while she was E-dating and just sucked it up for her?

5. I’m kinda curious about Curly and Anya’s relationship pre-crash, was it a little bit flirty like in canon? Did Anya try to approach Curly with what Jimmy was doing or was the blackmail powerful enough for her not to say a peep to anyone?

haha gonna answer all of these at once! but first here's something on 5 :)

she never passed the Official Legit certification but passed what counts for it in PE (so, certified only to fly PE vessels) and kind of sees it as her last chance to make it as a pilot. still hopes to get properly certified one day, working at PE to make the money for simulator hours and exam fees

curly actually went to a med school on a football scholarship but had to drop out about two or three years in because he started prioritising studies over practice and the money got pulled. used the money he had left to switch tracks and certify as a nurse. joined PE because space travel sounded fun but is pretty bored of it because he doesn't get to do much on a regular haul. he isn't quite as existential in this regard as canon curly because working in a people-oriented nurturing profession actually makes him feel useful, he just wishes he could be more useful ya kno? has enough savings to be able to rent a place and find a job at a hospital, so overall it all kinda works out for him if you don't count all the horrors

i think in this au daisuke's mother actually pushed him to intern as a mechanic a few years earlier than in canon, which is how he met swansea (pilot with engineering background) and got inspired enough to go into trade school. by the time the events of the au begin he is a certified mechanic though not with a lot of experience :"3

curly has had the biggest fattest crush on anya almost the entire time of knowing her (i feel like he kinda spawns in already in love with anya), so her E-dating phase is kinda rough on him (like, Very rough; mans full on wasting away from his heart getting broken in tiny ways a hundred times a day), but he is king of denying himself and putting others first so he does his best to be A Good And Supportive Roommate about it. he even tries to date other people too! but with not nearly as much gusto and it never goes far. he is too whipped

there was definitely Something. i'll expand on it a bit more in a later ask i got about captain anya, but the tldr is that she goes to great pains to Act Professional and curly is never in a million years going to confess anything. and then jimmy's arrival blows it all up and any kind of romance plummets down everyone's lists of priorities. and anya never tells curly anything -- this is her problem to deal with, and with him being jimmy's friend there is a tiny part of her that is afraid of not being believed even though she overall thinks he's a good guy :")

anya writes all kinds of things, but it's all fiction. she dabbles in poetry, but her two main points of focus in prose are a) long meandering stream of consciousness type of pieces that span generations and have very convoluted plots and interpersonal relations (think woolf's waves meets one hundred years of solitude), inspired largely by the time she had to lie there and do little more than drift in and out of delirium and think, and b) shameless smut that starts out as your run of the mill romance and suddenly changes genres halfway through (funny how life can just Change all at once huh). she never really gains a Massive audience but does have a considerable number of dedicated fans of both categories

(more roleswap au)

[mockerycrow]

UNDER THE SURFACE (Ghost x GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist — ghost icon by @yumethefrostypanda concept post here!

authors note; this is not my best work tbh, i wish i could improve it somehow, but i’m hoping you guys will like it anyway. Pretty sure this is my longest singular post, too! 4.7k words :-)

[WARNINGS: angst, spiraling thoughts, near panic attack, hurt/comfort, inaccurate medical stuff, vague descriptions of physical violence, very brief mention of possible self harm.]

YOU WERE USED to Simon being gone for long periods of time; you have been his roommate for two years now, nearly three. You know he’s military, it’s part of the reason why you were able to score being his roommate in the first place. At first, it was a very awkward arrangement. Simon himself wasn’t a very awkward person, no—he’s actually quite charismatic in his own way, a way that you could get along with. One of the reasons why the arrangement was strange at first was because you weren’t exactly able to get a one on one tour of the flat before agreeing, but you were a bit more trusting of this mysterious man because a mutual friend—Kate—sent you his contact information, considering you were looking for a new place to live since your lease was up.

Simon’s flat was void of any personality, really. Yes, you could tell by the way he organized everything that he had been in the military, probably for quite a while—but there weren’t any photos. No gaming systems; you discovered he did have a bookcase of quite a few books, but it was covered in a layer of dust. Despite this, when examining the books he owned, you could tell they were worn down—definitely loved. It made you smile a bit, seeing the different variety of books. A bit of personality, you think. Besides his room, it was like a completely furnished, no personality flat. You weren’t allowed in his room, not unless he gave you explicit permission, which you honored his boundaries. Simon was kind enough to offer you a space in his home—but you know he was quite weary of you, which was understandable. He helped you move in and you could tell he was watching you and your body language. Searching you for danger—but he slowly warmed up to you.

Another thing that you discovered that Simon was quite emotionally.. constipated. Over the first few months, you could tell he didn’t sleep as much as he probably should. He was always awake before you, and you would always find him in the kitchen, sipping on a hot cup of tea. After a few weeks of this routine—Simon rising much earlier than you, you figured maybe he couldn’t break the military’s strict routines.. Until one night you woke up from the sound of his heavy footsteps walking down the hall. You tensed in your bed and you sat up because Simon was silent as a ghost all the time. You didn’t even know if it was him at first, so in your half-asleep panicked state, you felt for your phone and you texted Simon’s contact, asking a messily texted “is that you walking around?” You blink your sleepiness away and wipe your eye as your phone vibrates with a “yeah. sorry.”

That was the first time you got some notion that Simon was thrown off guard from something, after another week of awakening from his noises, you began to realize that he was experiencing night terrors every couple of nights. His nightmares were never a thing you two discussed, exactly.. It was more of an unspoken rule to not talk about it. You would occasionally find yourself in the kitchen around the time you calculated when Simon would wake up—and you were right nearly every time—and you just.. coincidentally made him a cup of tea. To Simon’s pleasant surprise, you managed to get his tea right every single time. You’ve had your fair share of night terrors, so you knew how it could be sometimes. You wanted to do something nice for him, and he seemed flustered every time.

It took you a while to get used to him being gone for long periods of time. Simon appreciated that you never questioned too deeply into his career, even the times he would come home sporting a new injury, you were always willing to play doctor for him. Simon saw the concern in your eyes and sometimes he would share small stories of what happened, or maybe to get you to stop thinking about his injuries, a small story about his teammates. You slowly learned their names over the course of a year and a half, and you learned Simon’s rank as well. He is a lieutenant, and there’s a man called Captain Price, another man named Sergeant Kyle Garrick, and one more man named Sergeant John MacTavish, who Simon referred to as “Johnny” fondly.

It wasn’t common that Simon talked about work, which is the reason why it took about a year and a half to even get the information you did out of him. Over the time you’ve lived with him, you had decorated the flat to feel more comfortable and home-y. Simon only had a few requests, which you honored, and one of them was no pictures of him with his face showing. You shot him a curious and questioning look, but as always—you didn’t question him, and he was very thankful. You had gotten a few indoor plants as well that didn’t need much caring for and you wanted to liven up the place, y’know? You were okay with Simon not sharing much about his past or his work, because he was willing to listen to your little rambles about your interests and work. You were a bit hesitant, but Simon was very emotive and he never seemed annoyed or brushed you off.

Despite Simon’s reluctance to share anything of his own, he always heard you out if you needed to vent about something. He made sure you knew you could talk to him, even on days where you felt like you had no one to go to. You spent an entire night with him, just talking about anything and everything. It was the first real conversation you felt like you have had with anyone in such a long time. It was also the first night Simon really saw you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed from uncomfortableness, the vulnerability being nearly too much to handle; something he could relate to on a personal level. So when you started showing these signs, he knew exactly when to change the subject. Simon quickly realized how to read you, and he somehow knew what you needed at different moments.

Simon flies into the airport late at night with a small duffel bag, tagged as a military bag. He sends you a quick “be home soon.” text. Simon doesn’t expect you to answer due to it being around 3 in the morning, and you indeed don’t answer him. He catches a taxi to your shared flat. Simon collects his things from the taxi before paying the driver and sending them off, and Simon lets out a slow breath as he takes in the achingly familiar sight of the place he lives in. He tugs the hood that remains sitting over his head closer to his face, which is covered by a black surgical mask. His hand tightens on the straps of the duffel bag before he approaches the flat building, taking out his keys as he approaches the elevator. Once Simon reaches the third floor, he wastes no time getting to the front door, and he isn’t sure why, but his heart is pounding inside of his chest.

Simon unlocks both the top lock and the doorknob to enter the flat—something he had taught you to do every single time. He pockets his keys as he enters and Simon pauses for a moment because he can’t put his finger on it, but something feels off the second he glanced inside. His eyes trail the living room which is clean, not one thing out of place. Simon takes a deep breath and he doesn’t brush off the weird feeling, because even when there’s no evidence something happened—he’s usually right. The blanket on the couch is perfectly folded and laid over the back cushions, the mini bookcase by the TV is dusted as always, your shoes.. Are not by the front door, but a different pair are..? These either are not your shoes, or they are new. You always warned Simon about bringing people over, and you definitely would’ve told him this time. The lamp is on in the living room, but it seems the lights are out everywhere else. Simon silently goes through his routine when he gets back late at night—taking his jacket off and hanging it up, he leaves his boots by the door, and he drops his keys into the dish.

Next step to his routine is to step into the kitchen and get a cup of actually good quality tea, unlike the shit the military provides him. He fills up the electric kettle and sets a timer on it, grabbing his favorite mug and the box of his favorite tea from the cabinets. Simon glances down the dark hall—he’s seeking for a sign of life from you because you’re usually getting up around this time to greet him. No matter what, you always seem to know when he returns—yet you aren’t leaving your room. There’s no light emitting from the hall nor underneath the doors, and fuck, it’s eating at him. Something is wrong—and what the fuck is it? Simon stands there for a moment, turning his head to watch the blue light blinking on the electric kettle. He watches it blink slowly as he tries to rack his brain for what could be wrong—maybe those shoes are someone else’s, but he could just have a stern conversation with you about it later. Maybe you came back from drinking with friends—no, if that was the case, he knows for a fact your belongings would be everywhere, maybe even a spilled glass of water in the kitchen. He’s had to clean that up a couple of times.

He raises his wrist and pulls up his sleeve a bit to look at his digital watch; it’s nearly 0400 now. Simon puts his hands on the counter, leaning his body weight against it. Did something happen at work, maybe that’s why it feels off? You’ve always had a commanding presence like he has, so maybe— “Fuck.” Simon hisses quietly, hooking a finger into the strap of his black face mask and he rips it off, tossing it without care onto the counter. He leans forward and checks the kettles timer for a second, and then he’s walking towards the hall. Simon passes by his room and he walks up to yours, and he tries to turn the doorknob to peak in to check on you, but—it’s locked? Simon lets out a harsh breath before trying the door again, and yeah, it’s locked. Simon swears under his breath and he knocks on the door, his stomach twisting and turning. Something is wrong, very very wrong, very fucking wrong—

You unlock the door and you open it just enough for you to peak out, and you use your phone flashlight to shine it in Simon’s face. He squints and puts his hand up, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Hey—you locked your door.” He points out quietly, and you’re just staring at him, your eyes wide and alert. Simon’s anxiety lessens, but your reaction doesn’t make it go away. “Y’alright?” Simon drawls out, his hand on the wood panel of the door. You let out a harsh breath and you let go of your phone, letting out a quiet, “Simon..” before you suddenly pull your door completely open, and you wrap your arms around his thick torso into a hug. Simon swears his heart jumps into his throat and then into his stomach, bouncing back into his chest because you hugged him. You two were never particularly touchy like that, maybe a fleeting touch here or two, usual drunken affection from you—but you barely ever hugged him like this, even when he returned from deployments. Your touch burns hot through his clothes, and he knows you wouldn’t touch him without asking, so when you do? He wraps an arm around you, his free arm resting on your shoulder. “Hey..” Simon breathes out, lost for words.

You don’t hold on long enough for the uncomfortable worry to creep up his spine just yet. You rip yourself away from him like he burned you, his hands falling to his sides. You offer a tight, weak smile—one that you could easily play off as a sign of fatigue. Simon’s breath stutters as he watches your hands linger near your chest in a subconscious defensive gesture, your fingers closing into a fist for a moment; as if you’re uncomfortable, almost overstimulated. Simon feels the way for the light switch and he flips it on, and your room looks normal—but you look.. off. You look a bit clammy, almost like you’re sick or bouncing off the walls with anxiety. His eyes flick to your fingers and the skin besides your thumbnail and your middle finger are picked to all hell, and you just.. don’t seem right. All of these.. signs, you’re showing are actually very subtle—he just notices everything about you. Simon knows what food you favor, what your favorite color is, what social situations what you tick, what makes you mad—he knows it all. “Three months went by slow,” You murmur, trying to start a conversation. Simon’s eyes narrow at you for a moment as he watches you back up to your bed; no, you don’t turn around, you back up. You don’t turn your back to Simon at all. Fuck. He watches you lift your mattress, causing him to lift an eyebrow. “They did,” Simon confirms. “What happened while I was gone?”

This wasn’t an unusual question for Simon to ask; but it had a completely different meaning to you this time. You feel your muscles tense as you grab something from under your mattress, and you put it back down. It glints from the overhead light in your bedroom—a.. pocket knife of some sort, a switchblade perhaps. Simon’s eyes narrow at how you pocket it oh so quickly into your pocket. “Nothing much,” You reply quickly, smoothing out your shirt. “Same old same old, work has been fine, uh..” You trail off for a moment, clearing your throat. “Look, let me take a shower—I’m sure you’re itching for something to eat, huh?” Simon watches you open your drawers and pick out some pants and a shirt. The knife comes to mind—why are you taking it with you? “I can make it myself.” Simon responds, his feet planted firmly where he had been standing the whole time. You shake your head and close the drawers once you collect your clothes.

“It’s tradition, Simon. I gotta.” You offer a stronger smile as you make your way towards the door, still avoiding showing your back towards him. Simon watches as you glance at your bedroom window before exiting your room, muttering a quiet “close the door when you leave”, which Simon obeys. He shuts the door with a click, and he watches you quickly scurry down the hall towards the bathroom. “Just let me shower first.” And with that, you step into the bathroom, close the door and you lock it before Simon can interject. He stands there for a moment, stunned. His chest tightens for a moment because you just felt so far away. You’ve created such unwanted distance—even as you’re not very touchy with him, you still bother him for every detail he’s willing to give up when he returns. You are constantly making jokes, inviting him into the kitchen when you’re about to make a welcome home meal—but this time? You were hiding in your room, locking your door, bringing a knife with you—in front of him. Did you think that could slip past him? Did something happen whilst he was gone, to cause you to bring it with you? Is it for self defense against something or someone?— Is it to use on yourself?

Simon feels his stomach turn at his thoughts. He shakes his head and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He walks past the bathroom, his footsteps stuttering for a moment in front of the door before he presses his lips into a thin line, returning to the kitchen to make himself some tea, the electric kettle had beeped long ago.

The next late morning, not much was different. Simon only slept a few hours, three or four—as per usual, he still woke up before you. He threw on a pair of sweatpants, and a black hoodie. He made his tea, made you a cup of what you prefer to drink in the morning, and he made a light breakfast for you both. Despite being in the military for a while and relying on cooks as well as MRE’s to get through his days, Simon is a decent cook. He made himself some sausage and fried eggs, and he made a plate or a bowl of what you prefer to eat in the morning. Simon sighs for a moment as he glances at the time—around 1100, and you still haven’t emerged from your room which is odd, especially now that Simon just came back home. He takes a moment to look at his food, and he decides then and there he will drag you out if he has to. Simon scoops up his plate as well as your food, and he heads down the hall towards your room. With his hands full, Simon balances for a second as he gently kicks the door as a way to knock, and then he stands on both of his feet again. “Oi, wake up!” Simon shouts, leaning close to the door to listen for your movement.

It takes a good minute and when Simon is about to knock again; he hears your doorknob unlock and you peak out the door, your eyes wide and alert again, although it’s obvious you had just woken up. You seem to relax when your tired mind’s gears turn and you realize it’s just Simon. You open your door wider and you rub your eye, and he spots the knife in your hand, partially obscured by the door. “Mm, sorry. I overslept.” You say, your voice heavy with sleep, vibrating in your chest. Simon makes a noncommittal noise before holding out your food, which you stare at for a moment you take it, your lips twitching into a weak smile. “Thanks, Simon.” He waits a few seconds, and you nearly shut your door on him.

Thanks, Simon. That’s all??

“Can I eat in your room wit’you?” Simon gruffs out, feeling sudden determination from this weird act you have going on. You blink for a moment and then you nod. “Just give me a sec.” You murmur. You shut the door in his face and he hears you shuffling about, moving something—sounds like your mattress. Are you putting your knife away??—and then you open your door, gesturing for Simon to walk into your room. Surely you don’t think you can hide this type of thing from him of all people, right? Why are you hiding it from him?

Simon enters your room, and you close the door behind him. You never used to do that—“What happened?” Simon stares at you for an answer, watching your face contort in a bit of confusion. You don’t say anything at first, and when you were about to open your mouth, Simon speaks. “I mean this in the nicest way possible—do ya take me f’a wanker?” Your jaw drops for a moment, your eyebrows furrowing. “What? No, of course not, Simon. Nothing happened, I’m not sure why—“

“Don’t,” Simon interrupts, putting his plate of food on your dresser. “Something has happened, and you’re lyin’ to me. You’re jumpy, you’re carryin’ a blood knife around, lovie—don’t think you can get that past me—and you won’t turn your back on me.” His lips press into a line as he watches your shoulder hunch up a bit, in an all too familiar defensive, tense position. The pit in Simon’s stomach begins to grow as you avert your eyes from, too. “You are barely talkin’ when you bloody damn near talk my ear off when I come home—you said, ‘Thanks, Simon.’ Not an over the top reaction about me doing something for th’both of’us, not a invite in, and last night—you’ve been locking your door.” You put your food down near yourself, and Simon catches the way your fingers are trembling. “I.. I’m allowed to lock my door, Simon. You don’t need to question me.” You say, attempting to hold a steady voice which barely works, your voice nearly cracking on the last word. Your heart is racing out of your chest and all you want to do is bolt at the door; which Simon catches on to. You watch him as he slowly begins to step in front of the door. “You tell me everything—even how your damn showers go. Why won’t you tell me this?” He demands, and his heart is pounding against his ribcage, too.

He watches your face contort into several different emotions and feelings; panic, sadness, anger, relief—the whole nine yards. Simon walks towards you when you begin to sob, and you sit down on your bed to avoid collapsing. His chest tightens as he murmurs name, wondering if he went too far. You reach your hands for him and not for one second does Simon hesitate this time. He wraps his arms around you, sitting right next to you on your mattress, your thighs touching together. He reaches up and rubs the nape of your neck as you openly sob and shutter into the crook of his neck and in his arms. His skin burns from your heat seeping into his clothes, a lively warmth that burns so hot but he welcomes so much more than he remembers that he used to. Your tears are hot, burning his skin with every drop that slides onto his neck, but he welcomes the sensation. “It’s alright, lovie. Let it out.” Simon murmurs, one of his arms tugging your body closer to his. He holds you in almost protective stance, like someone is threatening to drag you away from his grasp. You grab at the back of his hoodie, your chest beginning to heave. “Mm, no, c’mere; look at me, yeah?” Simon beckons you, his voice smooth and soft—which is extremely rare. Simon cups your cheek and lifts your head from where it rests in the crook of his neck, his hand instantly getting covered in the wetness of your tears that are streaming down your cheeks. You inhale sharply as you try to look at Simon, your eyes unfocused and you try so hard to focus on his pretty brown eyes, but you can’t seem to get ahold of yourself. You let out a panicked sob as your hand now tug on the front of his hoodie, and his voice is so far away, but his hand is molding to the curve of your jaw, like it belongs there.

You shut your eyes for a moment and you let Simon move you around as he wants, which he ends up guiding your head to his chest, and his grip loosens some so you don’t feel trapped. It takes you a moment to catch your breath, to catch your bearings; you can hear a faint ringing sound that you didn’t notice before, but you do note it’s slowly fading away, and in fades is Simon’s voice. He’s murmuring praises—and oh, he’s laying against the headboard of your bed frame now, with you laying on his chest. You feel yourself trembling against him, and embarrassment hits you hard. You’re tense—you don’t want to talk about any of it at all, but you know Simon. He will push you until you snap, even if it’s in your best interest to tell him. You reach up and play with a hoodie string of his, listening to his soft breathing. You hesitate for a moment before your lips part. “It was a week after you left.” Simon’s heart skips a beat, which you hear—you vaguely find it amusing, but he’s silent to allow you to continue. One of his hands is on your back, his thumb moving back and forth. “I..” You swallow spit so you don’t croak, as you’re convinced you might sound pathetic. As if Simon would ever think of you that way. “I was walking home from the pub, y’know, the one only just a few blocks away? It was late at night, I think the police said it was around 2 am. I stayed until closing, I was with some of my friends, uh..” You trail off for a moment, trying to recall everything that happened. Your hand pauses, and Simon senses your state. He begins to rub your back full on, murmuring, “It’s alright. Go on, then.”

You let out a shaky breath before continuing. “I was absolutely wasted, and there was this guy—grabbed me and I tried to get out of his hold, but he ended up fucking stabbing me. Robbed me of my shit.” Your voice cracks and the silence is deafening. Simon feels his heart drop into his stomach. You got stabbed? “Fuckin’ hell.. Why didn’t you call me? Or at least let me know?” Simon’s voice treats carefully, knowing that you’re still freaking out by the way you’re incredibly tense against him. “I know how important your focus is when you’re gone,” You respond, your voice staying quiet as well. You don’t look at Simon’s face because you know that you’ll break once again. You pick at the fabric of his hoodie, seeking comfort in his warmth, despite how you usually aren’t like this with him. “I didn’t want to take your focus because I know you, Simon. You would’ve backed out of whatever you were trying to do to come and help me.” Simon presses his lips into a thin line, staying quiet because you both know that you’re correct. Simon would drop everything to come home to you, to help you. “The guy nicked my lung, was in the hospital for a while.” Simon’s hand stutters for a moment, the smooth pattern of his palm rubbing your back being interrupted from shock. “Jesus—“ Simon hisses, and he can’t help but tug you closer. “You should’ve told me anyway, lovie.”

You sniffle and you rub your face into his hoodie, a muffled noncommittal noise coming from the back of your throat. He doesn’t say anything further, nor do you. Simon lays there with you on top of him, one of his hands caressing your back, the other wrapped around your body, sometimes coming up to rub the back of your neck. You don’t mention the way he doesn’t seem to tell you to move, and he doesn’t mention how touchy you’re being. Simon doesn’t want this moment to end—one where you’re vulnerable and trusting with him, one where you’re alive and well. He can’t help but wonder if he ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell him something? Simon feels simmering, muffled anger in his stomach because you didn’t want to interrupt his work for being stabbed, nicking a vital organ no less—he makes a mental note to sit you down and make you promise to call him if an issue or an injury like that ever arises again. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to push away what would happen if you didn’t do that—if that guy were to come back to try to finish the job and Simon wasn’t here, would you call him? Would you pick up your phone and dial his number? Would you text him? What if you got hurt again—would you call him?—Or would the hospital? He always imagined you’d be getting the call of his death, and not the other way around. Simon swears under his breath for a moment and opens his eyes; he doesn’t want to think about that anymore. He wants to stay in this moment with you—both himself and you alive. He glances down, your tear stained cheeks slowly drying, your eyelids closed. His fingers slide from the nape of your neck to the side, and he presses his fingers against your pulse.

Being here with you—he wants you to trust him, too; like he trusts you. That’s all he wants.

tag: @zzzennin

[vaspider]

Spider, can I ask you and your followers for some input in a situation? I want some unbiased opinions, especially from parents of adult kids (bonus if your adult kids are disabled). I've tried to be as unbiased as possible and include both sides. I am aware that you're under no obligation to actually answer, but I'm hoping that if you're not able to provide any input, then one of your followers might be able to.

TLDR at the end.

The context:

Basically, I am an adult in my late 20s. I haven't lived with my parents since they threw me out at 19 for being diagnosed with autism and they were told that I wasn't capable of living independently without years of occupational therapy. I was homeless for 13 months. Like literally two days later, they dropped me off at work, confiscated my house keys, and said to find somewhere else to sleep because I wasn't coming back home. (My parents insist that I wasn't actually homeless because I already had my current job and was able to afford to stay at a youth homeless shelter. I say "what the fuck do you think Homeless Shelter means??") After that, I was able to get a government grant for chronically homeless youth that allowed me to get a room in a student housing complex. It's not dorms, but it works like a dorm. I do have a private room.

My bedroom of my apartment is a mess. My bedroom has always been a mess. I have AuDHD and multiple disabilities, including extreme fatigue so that's not unexpected. During lockdown, it was especially bad. I had to move out of my last apartment in 2021 because one of my roommates was a bigot and my building wanted a new tenet so they could charge more rent, so between the two of them, they forced me out for being a "safety concern" due to the mess (the roommate did things like lie and say I didn't bathe, even though I was literally still wet from the shower). My parents ended up helping me pack up my stuff and move to a new place. I've been here for a few years and my roommates here have always been okay with the mess because it stays confined to my room.

(Also I wrote this at like 5AM and I'm half asleep but I wasn't going to be able to go back to bed until I ask someone unbiased. So please excuse any typos, and I hope everything makes sense and nothing came out as gibberish because sometimes by brain refuses to Word Good.)

The problem:

My mother decided when I moved in that my dad was going to be inspecting my bedroom in order to make sure it's clean. He's been putting her off but she's been on his ass about it for three years so he's finally caved and said that next time he's here to bring me something (I cannot drive due to disabilities), that he would be inspecting my room.

I do not want my room inspected. I've been very clear about that since day one. Yes, my room is a mess, but I'm also a grownass adult. My parents say that since they've given me some money for my rent over the past few years that they're entitled to inspect my room. I say that it's a violation of my autonomy. My room is my safe space. My mother is an obsessively clean person so growing up, my room wasn't really mine, and everything had to be to her standards whether I liked it or not (including things like what color I paint my furniture that I owned).

My parents do not care about my boundaries, and would say that since I've proven incapable in the past (re: because I'm disabled, not that they'd ever admit it), that they're trying to protect me by keeping me from being kicked out again.

I am skeptical about this and believe it's more about controlling me (see: throwing me out for having autism and just generally being extremely controlling my entire life). My parents have refused to stop giving me money for my rent every now and then (I have a job and pay at least the majority of my rent, but there are some months where business is slow and I don't get many hours, and no one wants to hire me because I act Autistic and use a cane) and I end up short. I have resolved to do everything I can to not need their help, including having my sister pick up my prescriptions, in order to avoid my parents coming over and inspecting my room.

Also, my building already does quarterly inspections and they've always been okay with my room, but I know my room won't be to my parents' standards. I don't have any local friends that I could ask for help cleaning up, but like, I'm a Spoonie. I clean my toilet and then have to go lay down because I'm getting dizzy. I am not making much progress myself.

The question:

Are my parents right? Have I shown that I cannot be trusted to keep my room clean, thus entitling them to come inspect it to make sure it's not a mess. They will definitely yell at me and have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if my room is a mess or I refuse to let them inspect it? Or am I right to put my foot down and enforce my boundaries?

Side note, my parents have a history of being abusive and controlling. That's something I had to prove to the government to get my grant. They would insist that it's not abuse. Some of it was quite bad but I'm not going to get into it here.

TLDR:

I'm an adult with disabilities who has my own apartment. My parents think they're entitled to come inspect my room to make sure it's clean. I say that it's my apartment and I say no. They have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if I refuse. Are my parents being unreasonable, or am I the one being unreasonable for refusing?

Your parents have no right to inspect your room. You are an adult. This is your apartment, not theirs. Your mother is wrong. Your parents are being invasive. I think they think they're being reasonable bc they care about your well being, but they aren't respecting your autonomy.

Sometimes, being a parent means you gotta let your kids not do things the way you would or even not do things the way that is best for them. It's hard, but it's necessary.

If you still lived with your parents and your lack of cleanliness was affecting their lives, it might be different ... but this is just your parents being fucking weird.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Cariad | Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Fae!Reader | One shot 2.3k

After a forced night out with your fellow fae ‘friends’ ends in a trail of your fairy dust, it’s your werewolf roommate who takes the blame.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of violence, blood, bad friends and bad ex boyfriends. Bucky is a cutie pie puppy (werewolf) and reader is a fae with wings.

A/N: Very loosely based on the story of Beddgelert. Cariad - darling in Welsh. 

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Come on, you can’t stay cooped up in your flat all night.”

Your friends pounded their fists on the door of your apartment, calling through the keyhole and begging you to come out with them.

Friends might be too generous, women who also worked at the shitty diner down the street and also happened to be fae was more accurate. That seemed enough license for them to come and bother you, but it was never quite enough for you to really open up to them or for them to offer you a place to stay when you left your disgusting ex, John.

“I don’t want to, I’m fine here,” you shouted back, lounging against the arm of the sofa, your feet in your roommate, Bucky's, lap and a bowl of popcorn on your own. You tossed a kernel across to Bucky and he caught it with a snap between his preternaturally sharp teeth. You giggled and he grinned, flashing his long canines, before returning his attention to the terrible reality show you were both watching. 

The two of you had been watching the series from the start and had become increasingly close over the last six weeks since you moved in. Bucky always made sure you had popcorn, a blanket, which he spread over your legs, and something fun to drink, either a cocktail, a glass of wine or, one week, a huge hot chocolate covered with marshmallows.

Despite your reservations about moving in with a were, he was really a lovely roommate. He kept mostly to himself apart from your TV nights, which you looked forward to more and more, enjoying the feel of his warmth so close to you, the heady scent of his musky cologne and his ringing laughter that always made you smile.

 In fact the only downside seemed to be that he shed hair like a large dog, but then you left fairy dust everywhere so it worked out evenly in the end.

Plus after living with John and his volatile nature, being able to predict Bucky’s mood around the moon cycle was actually more reassuring than scary. You’d expected him to be grumpy, snappy, even a little mean when the moon was full, but instead he just stuck around the flat and, if anything, was friendlier, touching your elbow or the small of your back, brushing his leg against yours on the sofa and, as he was now, massaging your feet after a long day at work. His instinct was to nest and seek comfort, following you around like a lost puppy, a huge, muscular, lost puppy.

“You can go out if you want, doll, don’t stay in on my account,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Bucky liked to stay in around the full moon. It wasn’t that he was dangerous as a wolf, he could still control himself, but everything felt so much…more. He was always a little more territorial when the moon was at its fullest, seeking the comfort of a familiar space and, increasingly, wanting to make sure that you were protected.

In reality, he’d have liked to keep you exactly where he could see you and keep you safe, but he’d never been the kind of guy to trap someone like that. He liked seeing you smile. If going out made you smile, then he’d try and suck it up… okay, he’d be a grump, but he certainly wouldn’t be letting you know that, even if it meant you wouldn’t be here to scratch behind his ears to keep him calm when the moon rose. 

“I like staying in with you.” You poked him with a fluffy sock covered toe and earnt his fingers tickling you in return. 

“Well, that’s settled then. Go away!” he shouted at your friends, still banging on the door. 

Quiet reigned for all of two minutes before your phone started pinging.

You’re allowed to leave,you know?

Tina, of course, was always starting the arguments about Bucky.

He can’t control you

Morgan, desperate to be the ringleader of the group, but falling very far short. 

So that was two of your friends chipping in, that just left Jenny.

Leave the dog at home and come out with us, I promise we won’t see John. 

She was the biggest barrier to your friendship. Their personal attitude towards Bucky went way beyond the suggestions that he kept you trapped in the flat somehow and ended up in slurs. She’d use any opportunity to take a dig at him, especially if she knew he could hear. 

No.

You text back, slamming the phone down on the arm of the sofa, but they continued to text and text and text until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Ugh, God fine!” you bellowed across the room, your wings glittering and flashing red with fury, sprinkling fairy dust in your wake as you stomped across the room and yanked the door open.

“One fucking drink and then I’m coming home, just to prove that I can leave whenever I want.”

You glowed with anger as you slammed your bedroom door, emerging a few moments later with a crumpled dress on and a pair of heels. On your way past the mirror, you rubbed a finger below each eye to tidy your makeup.

“Have fun, Fairy, see you soon.” Bucky smiled, squeezing your hand over the back of the sofa. “I promise I’ll watch something else so we can see who gets voted out together.”

Dutifully, he flicked the TV off. 

“Let’s go,” you said, allowing your friends to drag you out of the door while Bucky waved them off. 

There was no way Bucky was really going to let you go out alone on the full moon. Although you’d have that gaggle of fae around you, he didn’t trust them not to abandon you at the first sign of trouble and, despite his lone wolf status, he knew that there were plenty of other wolves and shifters about just waiting to pounce should the opportunity arise.

Waiting until you’d at least left the building, Bucky sprang up from the sofa, looking out at the last of the sunset before he shook off the blankets, then his clothes and then his human form. Dragging his nails along the hardwood he clambered out the window and onto the fire exit. Scenting your perfume as you rounded the corner onto the next block, he couldn’t help but let out a howl, leaping onto the roof of the adjoining building and beginning his watch. 

Fairy dust.

It was everywhere, sparkling like glitter, the scent of vanilla frosting, but twice as sweet. It glimmered a path towards the alley way and, as Jenny rounded the corner, it was all she could see.

Despite the sparkling impairment, she could still hear your scream, ringing in her ears.

Tina and Morgan fell out of the side door of the nightclub, stumbling on their heels and dominoing forwards until all three fae were piled together on the cold, filthy ground. The golden shimmer of your fairy dust was all that let them know you’d been there. 

Sometime after the third round of shots and your fourth complaint that you wanted to go home, you’d edged away from them, towards the exit. That’d been fifteen minutes ago, when a were approaching Morgan at the bar had prompted the conversation to turn to Bucky again and what a disgusting, unsuitable, roommate they all thought he was. You rolled your eyes. If only the knew how bad John had been. 

Tina had only stopped when they’d all had a chance to complain about his taste in clothes, his solitary nature and even his smell, when she noticed that you hadn’t said anything in a while and their hunt for you began.

Eventually, trailing a story of you and a tall man with dark hair from the bar to the back doors, they had ventured outside.

“Look!” Jenny declared, spotting a spec of blood higher up on the alley wall. She fluttered her yellow wings and got closer to inspect it, running a finger through the smear, blood. “It’s blood! Call the Police!” 

Tina immediately started to dial as the three fae set off as fast as their wings could carry them, following the trail of blood. 

The trail wound between each block from the club to your street using the darkest back streets and alleyways. Morgan had conjured a ball of light to follow, but the three fae were still anxious to be back in the street lights or, better yet, back inside their own locked homes. 

It was a full moon after all, a foolish night to be out, drunk and alone.

Everyone they met confirmed that an injured fae had passed by with a brunette man and the trio’s imaginations ran riot, thinking of all the horrible things they were sure Bucky was doing to you for leaving the flat. 

As they turned onto your street, the blood seemed to stop but, at a run, they continued towards your apartment building.

From the outside, it looked as if Bucky was still watching television, the blue and white flashing of the screen lighting up the window and the patch of ceiling they could see from the doorstep below.

Then a figure appeared, a huge figure with pointed ears and long arms ending in claws that seemed to go on forever, elongated by the shadows cast across the walls. It reared up and then, just as quickly, it ducked down. No doubt to complete whatever awful ritual it was that weres enjoyed on the full moon, killed and eating fae no doubt.

Jenny screamed and began running up the short steps to the foyer, forcing her way past your confused looking neighbours. 

In the street, Morgan, rooted to the spot in horror, watched as the werewolf lifted a body in its arms and moved away from the window. Tina grabbed her hand and dragged her up the stairs to follow Jenny. 

Blood. Blood. Blood. That was all Bucky could think as he paced the living room, his fur matted with it, the scent filling his senses, stinking and hot and foul. He took a deep shuddering breath, willing the wolf inside of him to quiet. It paced in his mind, snarling and growling at any thought he sent its way, the thought of another man’s hands on you, the thought of you at the bar, unprotected and alone. 

Blood. Blood. Blood. 

He heaved a breath in and dropped his head into his hands, groaning as his body calmed. He tried to stay still, not wanting to cause anymore damage or spread the blood any further than his stumbling body already had. 

You were covered in it too, your wings heavy and drooping down your back. The iridescent shine was dulled, your breath coming in shallow, rasping sobs.

But no sooner had Bucky caught his breath than the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, his senses telling him that danger was still approaching.

Looking up, he finally saw Tina, Morgan and Jenny standing in the door, staring open mouthed at his blood covered body. His fur, where it was longer across his head, was matted together and his paws left red marks against the white walls when he pulled away, shrinking back, ears flat to his head and tail tucked between his legs.

Jenny screamed, a blood curdling, piercing scream causing the neighbours to open their doors. Bucky’s ears twitched, and his soulders slumped, his hearing enhanced by his current form. 

“He killed her! He killed her! Look at that blood!” Jenny screached.

Bucky held his hands up in surrender, unable to do anything but let out a low howl of pain at the thought of doing anything to hurt you. 

“We know it’s her blood, on you!” Morgan shouted. 

Bucky was shaking now, the wolf desperate to fight back while Bucky tried to tame him. He knew being aggressive would make it worse, but he was having a hard time keeping his body in check in such a small space. He backed his way to the wall and slid down onto his hackles, the hair on his neck still raised, and gave a sharp bark of warning. 

“We knew you’d turn on her, you were mad she went out!” 

He shook his head again, his howl now a constant, pained, wail. 

Then he couldn’t hear anything.

Tina, Morgan and Jenny had brimmed with magic as they cornered him, but now he was behind a wall of light watching your friends and neighbours back away, forced out of the door by your power. 

Bucky grabbed around your waist so he could get close enough to press his muzzle into your neck, scenting you roughly in the hopes of calming the wolf. 

You fell back into his arms, spent from using the last of your energy on defending Bucky, but safe in his arms. 

“I’m okay, Buck,” you whispered, tired and breathy, digging your hands into his fur.

He scooped you up into his arms again, the same way he’d carried you home after John’s attack just an hour before and held you close.

“I’m with you, I’m okay.” You gave a weak smile, placing your hand on his muzzle as the fur faded and the wolf disappeared for another month, leaving your hand on his stumbled cheek. He turned into your warmth, placing a delicate kiss on your palm and kept you there for a moment, your eyes locked and then he dipped his head, brushing his lips against yours.

[genericpuff]

Life update! This is frankly one I've been trying to avoid but at this point it's kiiinda super necessary ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴

DISCLAIMER: VERY LONG POST AHEAD. A LOT OF IT IS ME TALKING ABOUT LIFE SHIT OBV. I RAMBLE A LOT AS I TEND TO DO. I'VE BOLDED THE IMPORTANT SHIT SO THAT HOPEFULLY IT'LL MAKE IT EASIER TO PARSE THRU. PLS FORGIVE ME ;-;

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

First things first, I quit my job! Or rather, I put in my resignation letter with my current shop, with two weeks notice. Not something I had to do, I just felt it was the least I could do to go out on decent terms (and it means I can honor the appointments I still have booked and use the time to notify all my clients).

There were several reasons for leaving but ultimately it was a personal decision that will - hopefully - allow me to build a better environment for myself within the larger tattooing industry. I've learned through too much trial and error with all the shops (of which there have been 3) I've worked in that I don't particularly enjoy working in one single shop under one single shop owner. It's often counter-intuitive with my ADHD and anxiety, and it's kind of hard to address my mental health problems when I'm still in an environment that exacerbates them.

Of course, this wasn't an "all or nothing" decision because I frankly wasn't giving up a whole lot by leaving. The tattooing industry has been going through some hard times, between The Great Depression 2: Electric Boogaloo and the oversaturation of shops that exist everywhere now (seriously, everyone and their mom nowadays is a tattoo artist). Not only is the industry changing and being forced to adapt, I too have to change and adapt, not just to maintain my place in this industry, but to align it more with what I need within it, rather than trying to force myself to align with what other people often project (and believe me, some of the people in this industry do a LOOOT of projecting, tattoo artists ruined the tattoo industry fr LOL)

So it's scary, but it's necessary. I'm still gonna be tattooing, but I'm doing it on my own terms now. Instead of locking myself down to a single shop environment waiting for the work to come to me, I'm going where the work is, through guest-spotting and expos and whatever other collaborative opportunities I can find, something that I was a lot more restricted in doing with single shop environments.

Also I'm just like, tired of being broke from not getting more consistent work and the shop splits cutting all my generated income in half LOL There's a reason so many artists - even established folks who have been tattooing for decades - are going private nowadays or opting instead for booth rent shops over the 50/50 splits. I could go on for ages about this but I'd rather spare you all the details because they frankly don't matter here and I don't want to dwell.

Buuut making this decision is, ultimately, to address both my exacerbated anxiety from working in a shop environment, and my financial issues from said environment not benefiting me. Especially now that-

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

-my roommate is moving out in April! I'm very excited but also very terrified. This will be the first time my husband and I have ever been able to live alone since we started living together some 6-7 years ago. Yeah. As much as I'm a social person, at home I'm a hermit and introvert, and I'm frankly just sick of people who I'm not romantically committed to constantly being around. Even when they're sweet people (which my roommate mostly is) it's still like living around a sinkhole. Sure, it's pretty simple to just walk around the sinkhole and place all your furniture around it and mind where it is at all times, but it sure would be nice if the sinkhole just wasn't there to begin with, y'know?

There are so many things I've been wanting to do and simply can't on account of living with a roommate, projects that I want to pursue, spaces that I want to create for both myself and others. Knowing that she's leaving in April has almost made me even more anxious and impatient, because now I'm actually thinking about all the things that will improve and become available to me just with one less person in the house and I'm DYING for it to finally be reality. I can finally have an actual dedicated workspace area that isn't just a corner of a small den, we can separate our leisure space from our work space, we can decorate the whole place how we want it, we don't have to worry about being intruded upon during our conversations, we'll have so much more counter space in the bathroom and kitchen, we don't have to pray that she's not in the bathroom every time we need to use it because that inevitably means we either have to wait an hour or go piss in the corner toilet shoved next to the washing machines, we can put the doors that originally separated the living room from the kitchen and hallway back up because she had removed them to make space for her 15437281 bookshelves. Much of what I'm describing isn't anything that was her 'fault', it was just the circumstances of living with a roommate which I'm just so excited for my husband and I to get away from.

But of course, her leaving means we now gotta make up for what she would normally cover in bills each month (the biggest of which is obviously rent). And with how dire the tattooing scene has become, leaving my shop to pursue other ventures - even if it costs me more time and money and energy on the forefront to do so - felt like a necessary change, because staying there certainly wasn't gonna accomplish anything, either. The shop kind of felt like a sinkhole in and of itself as well, a bottomless pit of unrewarded effort and stress, weighing down on my subconscious every day. While many of these feelings were largely personal, they weren't helped by the nature of that environment being what it was.

Part of my ongoing treatment for my ADHD is accepting and reminding myself that it is a disorder and that I need to allow myself to walk the path of least resistance, rather than force myself to conform to what I think I "should" be able to do out of the instilled belief that if I can't, I'm "failing". Rather, I need to actually build an environment for myself that doesn't work against me. It's not that I'm failing completely on my own, it's a failure of the systems and environments that I've forced myself to exist in for years. What I'm trying to do is going "against the norm", sure, but for someone with ADHD, going against the norm is necessary because the norm isn't built for me.

Going solo with my tattooing and freelance work might end up not panning out, but I won't know until I try, and for now, it sure beats the path of resistance that I've been drudging through with what's now amounted to very little. Going solo means my time is my time again, as is my work and rewards. As scary as it was to hand in that letter of resignation, I've removed myself from the path that was hindering me and set myself on another that promises, at the very least, change. Whether or not it ends up being beneficial or productive change, well, that's something I'll be finding out as I walk it. At least now I can walk it with my head held high and my hopes renewed.

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

It goes without saying that this year has been a rough one so far, and we're only at the end of March. I'm sure most people can tell that I'm not really as "present" as I used to be, especially when it comes to the constant delays in Rekindled updates and lack of posting outside of that. I've been in a state of limbo, where everything and nothing is happening at the same time, waiting for the moment when I could finally make progress (and as I described above, much of that has been tied to my roommate finally leaving). With the move-out date right around the corner, and my resignation handed in, it feels like I can finally start removing things from my plate to make it more manageable, and rearranging everything to include the things I want rather than the tasteless, unfulfilling garbage I've been choking down.

But that leads me to one of the things that will be getting removed from that metaphorical plate.

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

Anyone with ADHD and RSD knows that it's hard to be selfish, even when the situation calls for it. But sometimes you have to be, for the sake of establishing and respecting your own boundaries and care.

So, in a little act of selfishness for the sake of self-care: Episode 70 will be going up as soon as it's available, I'm hoping by next weekend at the latest. After that, Episode 71 will also be going out as soon as it's available, hopefully within 2-3 weeks time as has been needed over the past few months. This will hopefully line up with my resignation from my shop.

Following Episode 71, Rekindled will be taking a mid-season hiatus.

I know this kind of sucks considering all the delays we've already endured, but it's precisely because of those frequent delays as of late that a hiatus is sorely needed. It not only gives me time to rebuild a buffer of some kind, but largely to focus on cleaning up that aforementioned plate of bullshit that Gorgon Ramses himself would throw at a wall.

I'm aiming for the hiatus to last between 2-3 months. During this time, I'm hoping that I'll find enough stability in my real life to dedicate time and care to it again. The reality is that a free-time hobbyist project like this does require free time. And that free time is hard to justify when it's all the time on account of lack of consistent paid work. To put it simply, if I don't have a roof over my head, I can't keep doing what I do here. Rest assured, it's not that dire yet, but it would be if I stayed on the same path. Projects like these are at their best when they can just be done in one's free time, for fun, without the stress of mounting bills and other responsibilities piled on top. That pile's been getting pretty high for me lately and now even Rekindled hasn't been safe from it - while the art and story has continued to elevate itself with each new episode, the turnaround time has lengthened and the stress of Real Life™️ outside of it has affected my own enjoyment in making it.

I love making Rekindled. But if I want to keep loving it, I have to put it aside for a bit so I can cultivate a better environment in which to create it in. Ultimately the suffering and spite isn't what makes Rekindled great, it's joy and care. And neither of those things can be committed to it when everything else around me feels like it's been burned down.

I do still have my own doubts with this decision. Going on long-term hiatuses has always been difficult for me, largely when it comes to getting out of them (fans of my original work are all too familiar with this). But I know the circumstances here aren't the same, and that they won't repeat themselves if I don't allow them to. I have far better tools to combat burnout now than I did even just a year or two ago, but one of those tools is drawing boundaries and knowing when to step away.

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

This was obviously a VERY long post and I realize with the Rekindled hiatus announcement near the ass end, a lot of people will surely be wondering where tf Episode 70 is LMAO but I'm sure I'll get asks in my inbox about it anyways that I can respond to, and when we actually go on mid-season hiatus, it'll be mentioned properly in the episode itself with a link to this post.

With my roommate moving out soon and my shop resignation now turned in, I feel like now I at least have the mental room to start breathing again, rather than gasping for air. And that will, in the long run, also allow me to create even more cool shit for both myself and all of you :> I do have plans, both for Rekindled after its hiatus and other projects (wink wink), that I now feel like I can start really getting off the ground with the shackles of my living situation and work environment finally loosening. And I do hope that, whenever those plans start to materialize, y'all enjoy what I have in store! It'll take some patience, and a lot of work, but it's work that I'm hoping will pay off in all the best ways ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ

Thank you all for your patience, kindness, and support. I know I've been saying this a lot lately with each episode delay, but I am really grateful to get to create what I do for you all. And I wanna keep doing it. I just can't do it without filling in that pesky sinkhole first (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و

[melanchoire]

thinking...g!p wony receiving head from experienced gaeul unnie for the first time 😵‍💫 the thing is, shes sensitive af but gaeul would edge her n would lowkey discipline her not to come so fast 🥺... soft dom gaeul who will ask her where she wants to cum n ofc repressed pervert wony would shyly answer on her unnie's face or tits 😵‍💫

cw: blowjob, handjob, titjob yasss.

my favorite roommates 🥺 this makes me think that sharing a bedroom for so long means they never get a full moment of privacy to, you know, take care of their own needs 👀

i can imagine wonyoung having a problem but not a private place where she can take care of it :( such a cute baby trying to be calm and not move too much in bed because while gaeul is looking at her phone on the other bed on the other side of the room, she can just catch a glimpse of wonyoung and ask her why he is moving so much on the mattress! although wonyoung’s attempt at a carefree attitude is not at all concealed and gaeul ends up noticing her erection anyway

and gaeul being the sweet unnie who protects her maknaes offers her help! but no advice on how to jerk off or recommending something like a cold shower to wonyoung, but more like offering to suck her cock and giving her a couple of tips for the next time that happens to her 🥰

then gaeul ends up on her knees in front of wonyoung, looking her straight in the eyes as she pulls the tallest one’s pajama pants off at a slow speed that makes wonyoung want to grab gaeul by the hair and fuck her mouth until she can't breathe because the teasing was driving wonyoung crazy! but she chooses to stay still like a good girl because she doesn’t want to disappoint her unnie and wants to prove her good obedience 💕 although gaeul is taking her time because she loves the cute reactions wonyoung is having 🥺 her breath catches in her throat and she ends up releasing a soft, ragged breath through her lips as gaeul pulls wonyoung’s pants down completely and stands face to face with her boxer–covered cock, repeating the same annoying actions when taking off her underwear :( though gaeul can’t hide her surprise when she releases her cock from its confines and it leaps up joyfully to crash with a thud against wonyoung’s abdomen, a thick drop of pre–cum oozing from the tip and running slowly down the entire thick, long shaft… at this moment gaeul is mentally questioning whether she will be able to take that cock because she was acting self–centered for the last fifteen minutes because she never imagined it would be so big, i mean, she occasionally looks at wonyoung’s crotch more than she should and imagines what her cock would look like, but she didn’t think she would exceed her expectations!

awww and gaeul looks so cute wrapping her lips around the pink head, looking wonyoung straight in the eyes as she slowly slides her tongue down the slit and cleans all the pre-cum with a single swipe of her tongue 😵‍💫 i can bet those two are two annoying asses who love weird things THEN i can see gaeul showering the swollen head with kisses as one of her hands begins to pump the shaft up and down, causing more cum to come out of the tip and therefore dirty gaeul’s lips more, but she doesn’t complain! that’s her favorite lip gloss anyway

ohhh and when gaeul connects her gaze with wonyoung’s as she takes her entire cock completely 😳 wonyoung thinks she is being too much for gaeul and should probably try to make her unnie not feel pressured, but gaeul doesn’t stop until the tip of her nose bumps against wonyoung’s lower abdomen and she can feel the tip of her cock hit the back of her throat!

the choking sounds coming from gaeul’s throat as she pumps her head up and down while jerking wonyoung’s cock + wony’s moans being the only thing that filled that quiet room 💕 wonyoung tries to lower the volume because she lives with the other members and she doesn’t want to disturb the other girls with her naughty midnight activities, but gaeul couldn’t care less! she redoubles her efforts because she wants everyone to know the camaraderie that exists between her and her beloved wony

gaeul agitated separating her mouth from wonyoung’s cock, pumping his phallus with her hand at a speed that will make her wrist ache then, looking at wonyoung and asking “do you have any napkins to clean my hands later?” but wonyoung replies that she wants to paint gaeul’s face with her cum :( and gaeul has no better idea than to decide to give her favorite girl a nice gift <3

titjob>>> ugh wonyoung practically cums within seconds of gaeul sliding her cock between her tits and closes her lips around the head to suck the tip while sliding her tits up and down to jerk off wonyoung’s cock at the same time… wonyoung definitely cleaned gaeul’s tits with her tongue and they had a dirty and messy makeout session

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 4 - ( c.s )

part three

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, slightly suggestive MEOW

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART FOUR! i promise u guys are not ready for what’s coming next 🫨 thank u to everyone who’s been reading along i love u all so very much!! my inbox is always open and i hope ur having a wonderful day (also doesn’t that first pic look so much like chris i screamed)

@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @cupidsword @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs

“wow, someone looks extra hot tonight.” cassidy comments as she walks into your room, which is laughable coming from her.

she’s an angel, literally glowing in her multi-colored halter. you swear you shop at the same places, and yet she somehow always finds the gems.

“god, says you.” you joke, unable to keep a straight face as you stand up from your desk.

but you’re all done up too, dressed in a red tube top and some black jeans that flare out a little, hugging your hips just right. and yeah, you’re a bit smug knowing that you’re going to chris’s party looking extra great, but you embrace the post-pregame confidence.

“are you sure you want to go? we really don’t have to.” cass asks as you pass by her into the upstairs hallway.

“i mean, why not? i can never turn down free alcohol.” you shrug, and it’s part of the truth.

paying for yourself at the bar is never as fun, and the chances of somebody buying your drinks is usually slim. plus it’s on shithead’s tab tonight, which makes it that much sweeter.

“i totally agree. i just…” her smile falters a little, and she sighs, “i just don’t want you to get hurt or anything.”

it makes you pause, hearing her say that. you’d ended up talking to both of your roommates after chris came knocking on your bedroom door, and they’d been rightfully wary of his excuse.

but her words kind of confirm your worries; that chris is someone to be feared, someone to keep at a distance. like you won’t be able to resist the charm.

like you’ll fall.

“he can’t hurt me if i don’t let him.” you reply, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince her or yourself.

“okay, i won’t push it. i know you’re tough, but i can’t help but check in.” cass nods at you before you head down the stairs.

“i appreciate it, but i’m good, so let’s go get bombed.” you’re grinning again, still buzzing from the two drinks you’d finished while doing your makeup.

ramona is already downstairs, bopping along to the beat of the music she has playing on the tv. she’s midway through a shot of tequila as you round the corner to the kitchen, swallowing so she can bite down on a slice of lime with her free hand.

you and cassidy both chuckle at the grimace that passes over her face.

“you ready party animal?” cass teases.

“always.” she replies once she’s calm, placing the tiny glass into the sink before screwing the cap back onto the bottle of alcohol.

each of you shove your old beat up shoes onto your feet, and mona turns off the television seconds after. you can still feel the bass vibrating, but you know it’s coming from the house beside you, which makes your heart jump into your throat.

you walk out the door, one behind the other like a row of ducks as you trample through the thin layer of snow from a few days prior.

tonight, you can tell chris has his own mix on, because you recognize the yeat song that’s currently playing. you’ve always liked his taste more than the others.

you’ll never admit that to him, though.

it’s way louder now that you’re up close, and you can literally feel the party raging. ramona leads the pack, stepping inside and swinging the door open for the rest of you.

the darkness swallows you once you step inside, but your eyes adjust quickly. you recognize some people as you shift through the crowd, regulars who are usually here and a couple of guys on the team.

you try not to look for chris, instead choosing to focus on the back of ramona’s head while you guys shuffle to the kitchen for drinks. there’s a few people chatting as you step through the archway, one of them being ben. his sandy blonde hair is pushed away from his face, and he smiles at your arrival.

“hey there neighbors!” he greets each of you guys with a side hug, clearly already drunk even though it’s only eleven.

you just thank god he set his cup down, because you know he would have spilled it all over.

“benjamin, always a pleasure.” cassidy laughs at his slightly sloppy demeanor.

“chris is gonna be really happy.” ben shoots a smirk your direction, and you roll your eyes, opting to move to the bottles of cheap vodka on the counter.

“i really don’t care.” you snark, pouring a hefty bit of alcohol into your cup before setting the handle back down.

“feisty tonight, woah!” he holds his hands up in surrender.

your friends follow close behind, making their own drinks and pouring them equally as strong.

“where’s your girl, benny? haven’t seen her around in a minute.” ramona asks with a small smile, clearly trying to change the subject.

“she’s out at the bar. girls night or something.” ben shrugs as you add some sprite to your drink and take a sip.

it’s extremely bitter even with the mixer, but you choke it down and deal with the burn. you’re still not tipsy enough, so you’re playing catch-up to try and reach the level you want to be at.

mona nods at this as she slides back up next to you, cassidy joining moments later when she’s done making her drink.

“well, tell her to come around soon, i miss her.” she requests.

“i miss her too, i’ll pass the message along.” ben points a finger at her like he’s locking in a promise, loopy grin morphing his features.

“alright, we’re going to dance, but i’m sure we’ll see you later.” cass waves her free hand goodbye before you all make your way back into the masses, shoving your way into the living room.

it’s pretty packed tonight, as usual, and a sheen layer of sweat already covers your skin. you run a hand through your hair while cassidy meshes into the crowd, making enough room for you guys to move around.

bodies bump against yours as you all dance to the music together, sipping your drinks and laughing at each other’s silly moves. you swear you’ve seen connor now too, and yet you still haven’t spotted chris.

you suppose this is a good thing, because the sensation of being inebriated is only just beginning to wash over your body, and you don’t want to deal with him sober.

so you dance, and drink, and dance and drink some more, letting the hazy lights illuminate you as you bop around with your friends.

you’re knocking back the last of your fifth beverage of the night when you feel someone come up behind you, hand snaking to hold your waist gently. your first assumption is chris, and your heart leaps into your throat, but you’re wrong.

it’s a guy you don’t recognize. his black tapered hair is a mess on his head as he gazes at you hungrily.

“dance with me?” he asks over the music.

cassidy and ramona are seconds away from stepping in, but you shake your head at them to indicate you’re fine. for once, you don’t really mind being hit on, especially because he’s kind of cute and you’re definitely drunk.

it’s not like it means anything anyways.

so you back up slightly, his front flush against your spine as you move your hips, rolling them into his own.

your friends grin devilishly as the two of you sway together, so close it almost feels like you’re one person. his hand presses flat against your stomach, holding you so he can feel the friction of your ass grinding against him.

you swear it’s only been a second before the crowd parts slightly, revealing a pissed-off looking chris as he barrels his way past the other people in the living room. his eyes are ablaze, and he yanks you away from the mystery man the second he’s close enough.

“get lost, jamie.” he snaps at the boy you were with, whose eyes are wide in fear now.

he must be an underclassman then, because he scurries away instantly, too scared to stand his ground against the captain of the team and the host of the party.

“what the fuck, chris? i was having fun.” you cross your arms over your chest, slurring ever so slightly as you glare at him.

he doesn’t respond to this; instead, his chest heaves like he just ran a marathon, and his dark gaze trails up and down your body. he grabs your wrist and tugs you toward the staircase without a reply.

your friends watch in awe as he drags you away, though neither of them bother to interfere. they’re swallowed by the swarm moments later, and your stomach flips at the fact that they’re gone.

it’s just you and him now.

the foyer blurs by as you reach the stairs, and you nearly stumble trying to keep up with his pace. you’ve only just made it to the privacy of the upstairs hall when chris drops your arm, whirling around to face you.

“what is wrong with you?”

your mouth falls open slightly at his tone, at how animalistic he looks standing before you, blocking you against the wall. his white shirt is unbuttoned slightly, and you can smell that fucking dior on him.

“what the hell does that mean?” you retaliate, already flushed in anger.

“i didn’t even know you could dance like that, let alone with my teammate.” chris snarls.

“everyone can dance, and i had no idea he was on the team. it’s not like you were talking to me anyways.” you stand your ground, meeting his judgmental gaze head on.

“did you want me to?”

“i mean, you’re the one who invited me to this stupid party, so i kind of expected to at least see you.” you tell him truthfully, and you know it’s the alcohol talking now.

“one second you hate me and the next you’re angry i’m not giving you attention. i can’t figure you out, and it drives me fucking crazy.” he continues to stare down at you in frustration, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

you hate how fast your heart is slamming against your ribcage. every time he’s this close to you it’s like the air is sucked out of the room. you can’t even breathe.

“why did you really pull me away, chris?” you ask quietly.

you already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it out loud for once.

“because you should only be moving that pretty ass of yours against me.” his voice is low, and he takes a step forward.

you cancel out his movement, completely backed up against the wall now. he can’t help but let his eyes roam down to your chest, to your exposed cleavage.

you’ve been taunting him all night, though you weren’t even aware. chris has just been watching you in your element, staying to himself and letting you do your thing with your friends for a bit.

after his last conversation with you he felt like maybe he should back off, but then seeing you with somebody else was even worse. it shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t be so fucking obsessed so soon.

but you’re looking at him with those wide eyes, soft lips parted, and there’s no way to resist. one hand travels to the back of your neck and the other grabs at your waist, pulling you into his own hips as he smashes his mouth to yours.

it’s somehow even more passionate than the first time, messy and rough, how you both like it most. chris bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away a minute later, kissing your cheek and jaw, then down your neck.

his cold fingers make their way underneath the hem of your shirt as you feel his teeth close down on the sensitive skin. a strangled moan escapes your mouth before you can bite it back.

“i like that sound a lot, princess.” he says into your ear before his lips focus on that hollow sweet spot you love so much.

you know he’s going to leave a mark, but it feels so good you don’t care. yet you choke down the whimper you feel crawling up, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much you like it.

“c’mon, i know you want to.” he mumbles against your throat, and you can literally feel him smirking.

arrogant bastard. two can play at this game.

you put your hands on his chest so you can drive him backwards into the opposite wall. he’s surprised by you taking the lead, and you press your body flat against his, connecting your mouths roughly once more.

chris’s hands roam to grip your ass, a delicious pressure that you shouldn’t enjoy so much. your fingers nimbly travel to the waist of his jeans, and you feel his body tense under your touch.

you can’t help but grin into his lips as you move your hand lower, underneath the band of his boxers, grazing the warm skin of his hip tantalizingly slow.

you shift your focus to his own neck, sucking harshly and running your tongue over his skin until you finally hear him groan, a noise that you relish. his fingers dig into your flesh harder, and you can feel him grind against your thigh.

but you already got what you wanted, so you break away and take a step backwards. the shock on chris’s face after your abrupt departure is clear, his lips raw and hair tousled.

“and you had the nerve to imply that i’m the one who wanted this.” you smile and shake your head, making a move toward the stairs.

“you’re seriously just going to leave?” he asks in disbelief, which makes you turn.

“what did you think was going to happen, chris?” you smirk, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before swiping your thumb along your bottom lip.

his own mouth slowly turns up as he stares at you with a certain kind of ferocity in his eyes, adjusting his shirt and running a hand through his messy hair.

“nothing, i guess. but whatever we didn’t get to will happen eventually, you know.”

“no, it won’t.” you reply, a bit too quickly to be convincing.

“i think it will. who knows, maybe next time you’ll let me use my mouth somewhere else.” chris says lowly, hand ghosting across your hip as he passes by you, looking over his shoulder at you with an expression of self-satisfaction.

then he heads back down the stairs, vanishing around the corner like nothing had even happened.

days ago you were swearing up and down that you’d never kiss him again, that nothing would happen. and now you’re standing alone in his house while the music thumps, knees weak and breathing heavy with a hickey on your neck.

the scariest part of all is that you’re still craving more, even though you don’t want to.

[melobin]

behind the screen 𐙚 sungchan smau #27

✧ camgirl reader x roommate sungchan

✧ synopsis. in which sungchan discovers his favorite camgirl also happens to be his roommate

✧ wc. 2.9k

✧ warnings. smut, light choking, unprotected sex, semi-public sex.

behind the screen masterlist

✧ ✧

“you look so pretty” you giggled as you got into sungchan’s car, closing the door behind you and turning to where he was sat in the drivers seat.

“you saw me this morning”

“so?” he lifted a hand to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb gently rubbing over your skin as you nuzzled your cheek against his hand “you always look pretty” he leaned over the centre console of the car to kiss you, his lips were soft against yours. you giggled as he pulled away, sungchan looked at you with a sweet smile on his face “you’re so giggly”

“im happy”

“i am too” he leaned back in his seat, his hand falling onto your thigh as he pulled the car out of its parking spot and began to drive. you leaned the side of your head against your seat as you watched him, his thumb brushed over your thigh every so often as he navigated the roads. you thought it was a great day to wear a skirt.

sungchan was undeniably handsome, his jaw clenched slightly as he kept his eyes on the road and his bicep flexed as he gripped the steering wheel. you almost found yourself pressing your thighs together at the sight of him but you stopped yourself, his thumb running over your inner thigh reminded you of just how close to you he was.

“everything okay?”

“hmm?” his question broke your trance, you almost felt embarrassed when he laughed at you.

“you seem out of it”

“i just got distracted” you looked down at where his hand sat against your thigh, bringing your own hand down to place on top of it, curling your fingers around his whilst doing so.

“what’s on your mind?”

“nothing special” he turned to look at you as he stopped at a red light.

“you were staring”

“was not” he raised an eyebrow at you and laughed, turning his head back to the road.

“we’re almost there, no need to get embarrassed now” you looked back down at where your hand sat atop of his, opting to not look in his direction for the remainder of the drive to save any pieces of sanity you had left.

your skin felt cold once sungchan removed his hand from your thigh, only for your body to heat up once he placed his arm behind your seat and look behind himself so he could reverse into the parking spot. you let yourself look at him again and regretted it instantly, you could have cursed him for being so attractive.

you kept your head forward as he parked the car, not risking looking at him again and not wanting to be caught staring at him, again. sungchan laughed to himself when he saw your eyes focused directly ahead of you, he could feel the heat radiating off of your body onto his arm that sat behind you. you were cute, he thought.

“stay here for a second” you tilted your head to the side as he spoke to you, parting your lips to question him but not being able to due to him already being out of the car. a few moments later he appeared outside of your window with a smile on his face, he opened the car door before stepping back to allow you to step out of the car “my lady” he bowed slightly, you narrowed your eyes at him and laughed.

“you fucking nerd” he closed the car door and laughed loudly, he placed his hand on your back as he guided you into the restaurant he had picked out for lunch. it wasn’t anything special, in fact it was the palace the two of you normally found yourselves in when you went out to lunch together. yet, something about being there this time felt different.

sungchan kept the gentleman act going all the way to the table, pulling out your chair, helping you tuck it in once you’ve sat down, handing you your menu and then holding your hand over the table. his actions made you feel shy and you worried that you weren’t hiding it as well as you thought you were when he looked at you.

“you look so pretty”

“you’ve said”

“so? i’m telling you again” you struggled to hide the smile that was creeping onto your face as he looked at you, his thumb ran over the back of your hand as he spoke.

“you look very pretty too sungchan” he giggled and you felt your blood run hot. it seemed somewhat impossible to you that you had gone from squeezing your thighs together at the sight of him in his car to fighting back your smile from how cute he was at the table. you had a sinking feeling that sungchan was going to be more dangerous for your heart than you had first anticipated.

“do you want me to order for you?”

“if you wouldn’t mind” he smiled at your reply, thumb stroking the back of your hand one last time before he pulled his hand away to look at his own menu, eyes peaking over it to look at you every few moments. sungchan wasn’t sure about much but he was sure that he was prepared to give you the world and anything else you wanted alongside of it.

dinner went by like a breeze, sungchan paid just as he promised, he held your hand as you stood up from your chair and opened your door for you, again, when you returned to the car. there was a sense of sorrowness around you two as you returned to your office building, neither of you had wanted your time together to end.

“we live together sungchan, you’ll see me later” his fingers laced through yours over the centre console of the car, he leaned the side of his head against the head rest of his chair and looked at you, his eyes sparkled in the sun that was shining through the windshield.

“at least let me walk you up, you still have like 20 minutes don’t you?”

“fine, but don’t make me late” he smiled as he got out of the car, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you walked into the building.

“have fun?” you smiled at chaewon as she leant against her desk.

“always”

“wonbin will be happy” she gestured to the boy who was leaning against you causing him to respond.

“don’t worry i’ll tell eunseok you said hi” his response prompted her to close her lips and narrow her eyes at him, you laughed as the two of you walked past her.

“eunseok” he shrugged his shoulders as the two of you stopped at the elevator “you’re coming up?”

“for a little, if that’s okay” you nodded and stepped into the empty lift, he stepped in beside you, letting you press the button.

the moment the door closed sungchan turned to you, his hands fell to your waist and he pressed you against the wall, your arms laced around his neck as he kissed you. the kiss was deep, his tongue pressed against yours and he groaned whilst dropping one of his hands to your ass, squeezing the muscle through your skirt.

“have i told you how pretty you look?” he broke the kiss for barely a second to speak.

“about three times”

“good because you look so fucking good” you moaned against his lips when he pulled you closer to him “spent the whole of lunch thinking about pushing up your skirt and bending you over the table” you whimpered again, finally breaking the kiss to pull away and look at him.

“you can’t fuck me in the office sungchan” he groaned and buried his head in your neck.

“no one will notice i promise i’ll be quick” he lifted his head to look down at you “i’ll make you feel good, promise” you pushed him away as you neared your floor and looked at him before sighing.

“there’s an employee bathroom that’s usually locked, wonbin has the key i’ll get it from him” sungchan smiled sweetly at you, not the kind of smile you would expect from him after telling him he can fuck you in the bathroom at your workplace. the elevator doors opened to let the two of you out, you promptly made your way over to wonbin’s desk with sungchan following closely behind.

“can i have the bathroom key?”

“what for? you never use that bathroom” wonbin looked from you to the boy who stood behind you, waving back as sungchan greeted him before laughing “you’re serious?”

“very”

“you slut”

“just give me the key wonbin” sungchan laughed at your interaction “will be quick, sungchan just needs to pee” wonbin nodded, the expression on his face showing how unconvincing your excuse was.

“go now if you want to be back before your lunch break ends” you nodded and walked to the bathroom. the door locked behind you only a moment before sungchan pressed you against the wall, hands falling straight to your waist as he kissed you again.

“you brought a condom right?” ’sungchan broke the kiss and panicked at your question, guilt flashing over his face “you done all this and brought no condoms?”

“i didn’t plan to fuck you here”

“i don’t believe that” he kissed you again, softer than before, he slowly parted your lips before speaking sweetly to you.

“i won’t cum inside of you, promise” you looked at him momentarily, eyes tracing the features of his face.

“i’ll kill you if you do” he smiled before kissing you one last time.

the hands sungchan held on your waist turned you around, he pressed your front against the wall and his hands scrambled to push your skirt up. you felt him push down on your lower back causing you to arch it out, sungchan groaned as he looked at the way your underwear hugged your ass. he would’ve gave anything to sink to his knees and press his tongue against your cunt in that moment but he knew better, he knew he had a time limit and he needed nothing more than to have you wrapped around him.

he pressed his fingers over your panties, pushing down against the wet spot that your slick had left behind. his mouth watered at the feeling of your panties sticking to your cunt, he could feel how wet you were over the fabric, heat radiated out of you. it all only made him harder. he pushed down your underwear, letting them pool sit at your ankles as he spread your legs a little wider. his fingers reached around and found your clit, he circled the slick bud a few times whilst undoing his jeans with his other hand. you closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against the wall, your balled your hands into fists and bit down in your lower lip. you knew you couldn’t make a sound and you feared just how difficult that would be once he pushed his cock inside of you.

sungchan pulled his fingers from your clit in order to release his cock from his briefs. he was hard, almost painfully so at that point, the excitment of fucking you in such a public place went right to his cock. he knew getting caught would be the worst thing possible, especially for you, but there was a thrill in the air that filled sungchan with anticipation and need.

he fisted his cock in his hand, the slick that you’d left on his fingers was spread alongside the side of his cock. he let go of it, bringing his hand round under your mouth.

“spit, baby” you collected as much saliva as you could in your mouth before spitting it onto his hand, the action felt so crude and dirty, you almost moaned after doing it.

he brought his hand down to wrap around his cock, holding the base of it before sliding it up to the tip and bringing it back down. sungchan shivered at the thought of your spit coating his cock, almost groaning at the thought of your slick replacing that in a few moments time.

“are you ready?” you hummed, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss under your ear “use your big girl words, baby” you whimpered at his voice, feeling his hand squeeze your ass as he spoke.

“i’m ready channie” he looked down as he guided his cock forward, pressing the head of it against your cunt before pushing himself inside of you.

sungchan moaned into your ear as he sank himself into you, your warm cunt swallowed him. it dawned on you instantly that sungchan would be the one struggling keep himself quiet instead of you. he couldn’t help himself, you wrapped so perfectly around his cock, the raw feeling of your pussy made his legs feel weak and his cock ache. sungchan had imagined feeling your raw cunt around him countless times before but nothing compared to the actual feeling of it. it was heavenly. sungchan wished that it had happened anywhere other than in the bathroom of your workplace but he wasn’t going to be picky. being inside of you was a dream come true for him no matter where the two of you were, raw or protected.

“god you feel so fucking good” he moaned again, bucking his hips forward so you could take all of him. you bit down on your lip as he filled you up, swallowing back your own moans as he began to fuck you. he reached a hand back around your body to attach his fingers to your clit, keeping his promise of making you feel good as he began to rub them against the bud in time with his thrusts. his other hand wrapped around your throat, fingers lightly pressing into your skin as he fucked you.

sungchan whimpered into your ear as you clenched around him, trying to keep himself quiet as he fucked you harder. there was a light sound on your skin slapping together echoing throughout the room but neither of you could care in the moment, sungchan’s cock made you feel like nothing else ever had and you made sungchan feel like a broken man. literally.

he struggled to keep himself together as he buried himself deeper inside of you, the more he fucked you the more ruined he began to feel. your cunt wept onto his cock, your wetness made it easy for his fingers to glide over your clit in quick circles.

“i’m gonna cum” you whined out, your body growing hotter and your legs beginning to feel unsteady as sungchan brought you closer to the edge. he was just as desperate as you were, he felt as if he was sweating as he fought off his orgasm, wanting to keep his promise of not cumming inside of you.

sungchan fucked you through your orgasm, being eager to feel you squeezing his cock tightly as you let yourself go and finish around him.

the moment you whimpered from overstimulation sungchan pulled out of you, your hand wrapped around his cock before he could do it himself. you turned around shakily and leaned your back against the wall, jerking him off whilst he placed both of his hands on the wall either side of your head. you let him rest his head against your shoulder as your hand moved on his cock. you could hear him whimper as he began to release over your hand, some of his cum dropped onto your thigh, his whimpers stopped as your hand slowed down, his breathing was heavy. he let out a deep breath as he lifted his head to look at you, he kissed you gently before he stumbled away to get tissue to help you clean up. after pulling your panties up and fixing your skirt he looked at you sheepishly, fixing his own jeans as he prepared to leave the room.

“i’ll go first, i’ll see you tonight sungchan” you smiled at him as you placed your hand on the door handle, there was a slight limp in your step that you could only pray wouldn’t be seen by anyone in the office. sungchan watched as you left the room, smiling sweetly at you as you shut the door behind you. he let out a deep breath, shaking his head and laughing to himself as he made his way out of the room and to the elevator.

he was overwhelmed, surprised that things had happened so quickly between the two of you but he wasn’t disappointed about it. he loved every second of his time with you, he loved being able to reminisce about it too and he hated being interrupted when he was thinking about you, just like he was when a hand stopped the elevator from shutting

“sungchan?”

“anton? what are you doing here?”

“i was about to ask you the same thing” sungchan narrowed his eyes at the boy as he pressed the ground floor button.

“i dropped y/n off after we had lunch” anton nodded.

“i was here to see my dad” sungchan nodded back, there was an air of awkwardness surrounding the two, sungchan decided the best thing to do was get back to work where he wouldn’t be left alone with the younger boy.

“i’ll drop you back to work, come on”.

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[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: joshua

soulmates

'hand in hand, you and me. today, tomorrow, forever.'

when 00:00 glow green in the darkness, you clutch your bedsheets tighter, feeling light burn on your right wrist. it's happening. what everyone talked about, waited for, dreamed of. it tingles for few seconds and when it stops, you know that name of your soulmate is now etched on your wrist with black ink which will not come off no matter how hard you'll try. unspilled tears sting your eyes and you're about to go to the bathroom, when you hear careful knocking and gentle 'love?' from the other side of the door.

'joshua?' you question loudly before jumping from the bed and rushing to open the door. just like you predicted, your boyfriend is waiting on the other side, wearing oversized hoodie on top of his light blue pjs. 'babe, what-'

'your roommate is here?' he asks, interrupting you gently. at the shake of your head, he then points inside. 'can i come in then?'

for the first time since you started dating you hesitate. should you let him in when you don't know if it's his name on your wrist and vice versa? there are so many things on the tip of your tongue: have you checked? is it my name? am i your soulmate? your insides are churning just from the possibility of someone else's name being written on his wrist. joshua takes a second to assess your state and it doesn't take him long to understand what's happening with you. he's always been good at figuring out your feelings even before you did, always knew what to say or do to calm you down. before you can voice out your fears, his arms find their way around your waist, gently but firmly pulling you towards him. 'shh,' he whispers, hugging you tight. 'i know, love, i know.'

'i'm scared,' you mutter, hiding your face in his neck. and it's such a familiar place for you, you can't imagine not being able to do that, can't bear the thought of not having joshua this close to you.

you didn't know how joshua felt the same, how holding your trembling body in his arms made him want to tuck you away from this world and just forget about everything. if the stars decide that you two are not meant for each other then he'll write his own story, create another univerise in which you are his and he is yours because that's the only correct way of how it should be. he hasn't looked at his wrist, mostly because he is scared too but also because he doesn't have to look at it to know who is his fate. gulping, he tightens his arms around you, leaving small kisses on your shoulder.

'have you looked?' you ask in a small voice, biting your lower lip. 'what if-'

'look at me,' joshua asks, leaning back until you move your head and make eye contact. 'i haven't looked. we're both going to look right now but before we do, i just want you to know that it won't change a thing, okay? you are it for me and i don't care if universe agrees with me or not.'

'b-but, if it's not my name..' you start, not being able to finish that sentence because every word breaks your heart.

'then i will cover that name with yours,' joshua says with sureness of person who will not change his mind. 'i will go to the tattoo parlor right now and will make sure that only your name is on my wrist. i love you. do you love me?' at your nod, most beautiful smile blooms on his face. 'ah, i'm just the luckiest guy, aren't i? universe already blessed me with your love, let's check if it blessed me again, shall we?'

it's scary. your throat tightens up and heart rate slows down in anticipation. you didn't think that figuring out who's your soulmate will happen in the middle of the hallway of your dormitory with your boyfriend right in front of you, but life has its own plans. grasping sleeve of your sweatshirt, you look up at joshua, who's already looking at you with impossible fondness. you are it for me, he mouths and with this rolls up his sleeve, looking down. you don't have to look down at your own wrist, because watching surprise and happiness glow on joshua's face is the answer enough for you. when he looks back at you, there are tears in the corners of his eyes.

'it did bless me again,' he whispers, not looking away from you. his eyes are filled with awe and he brings your faces close, so close that your foreheads are almost touching. 'i would've created another universe for us but i don't have to. you are mine in this one.'

what comes out from your mouth is a mix of hysterical laughter and whimpering sob. joshua smiles and takes your hand in his, showing you both his own name written prettily on your wrist. he strokes it lovingly with his thumb as you stare transfixed, not being able to utter a single word. relief floods your system and you sag against him, smiling at the way he keeps on leaving small kisses anywhere he can reach.

'you are my soulmate,' you let out, still in shock. 'josh, you are my soulmate.'

he chuckles, nodding. 'yours, baby. forever and ever.'

he hugs you tight, looking up to the ceiling for a second, silently thanking whoever is responsible for this to happen. he prayed yesterday, promised that he won't ask for anything else as long as he'll get this wish right. i will never ask for anything else, he thinks, mentally sending this message to the universe. you gave me everything.

a/n: oh the feels :') impossible to picture anyone else for this au, so of course it's joshua. tell me how you liked it! - nini

my other works can be found here

[drfleetflower]

Mislaid Conviction (Part Two)

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x Reader

Summary: You're free to leave the hospital, having been recovering from the Capitol's torture, but you feel more confined outside of the hospital. Something strange is going on but you can't place your finger on what.

Warnings: Angst, light fluff, mentions of torture, mentions of therapy, self-deprecation, coercion/bribery

WC: 2.9k

Part One Part Three

In the next couple weeks after your moment with Haymitch, you let your guard down quite a bit. Haymitch cared about you. You had gotten him to admit that. So, what did your previous grievances matter?

You smiled at him as he entered your room and took his seat. "So, what’s it like out there? Anyone caught your eye so far?" You inquired, resting your chin in your hand. You were trying to be perceived as playful, not the increasingly jealous person you had become without being able to keep tabs on him. But you weren’t worried. Really, you weren’t. And jealousy was a strong word anyway. What was there to be jealous about? Haymitch? You would laugh if it didn't still cause you pain.

"Oh, so now you're interested in my love life, are you?" He teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He paused for a moment, contemplating your question. "Eh, nah, there ain't anyone I have my eye on at the moment," he admitted. "But don't get your hopes up, darling, you won’t always have me to yourself."

You felt a sharp exhale leave you and tried to play it off as a laugh, even though you couldn’t do those at the moment. "Poor me. The Haymitch Abernathy wants nothing to do with me." 

Haymitch chuckled, thoroughly amused by your tone. "Oh, it's a tragedy, isn't it?" He mocked pity. "How will you survive without my attention?"

"Well, I suppose I'll have to find some way to move on... Some way..." You sighed dramatically.

He chuckled again, shaking his head in amusement at your over-the-top theatrics. "Just how will you cope with such a devastating loss?"

“I just don’t know.” You shook your head slowly. "What's the living situation out there, anyway?"

Haymitch thought for a moment. “Well, it’s very small apartments basically. Except there are no windows unless you’re at the top floor. Family’s live together and loners get their own place.” He explained.

"Alright. So I'd be alone?" You clarified, feeling a lump form in your throat.

"Oh, you'd rather have some company? Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart, but it's mostly private rooms. You'll have your own space, free of any messy roommates or drama."

"Alright." You said again, a twinge of nervousness in your voice.

“What's the matter? You don’t like people anyway." He said, point blankly.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

He sighed at the admission, concern etched into his features. "Hey, don't worry about it," his voice was surprisingly comforting. "You'll be fine. It's safe here, they've got security checkpoints all over the place and everyone's on high alert. You'll have your own room, and you can lock the door if you feel uneasy."

You tried your best to open up. "It's not that... I'm... I don't want to feel like I did in the Capitol..." 

Haymitch's expression softened further as he sensed your vulnerability. He understood what you were getting at, and his usual aloof manner melted away completely. “Listen to me. You're not in the Capitol anymore. You're not a prisoner. You're safe now and I’m- we’re not going to let anything bad happen to you, got it?” He said rather firmly.

You nodded, feeling somewhat comforted but at the same time, you dreaded the idea of being alone in a room like that again. Cement, no windows, no air. You tried not to choke just thinking about it.

“Sweetheart… What happened there?”

You shook your head, your throat feeling as though it was being squeezed. You wouldn’t be able to get out the words even if you tried.

---

After several more days, Haymitch returned to your solitary room, his expression light but serious. "Hey," he gruffed. "I've got news."

You didn’t need to look up, having gotten used to this routine. But you looked up anyway, finding comfort in just seeing him. “What?”

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for your reaction. "You’re cleared to leave the hospital," he said. "They think you're stable. You won't have to stand these blinding hospital lights anymore. Well, mostly anyway."

“I can leave? Right now?” You sat up.

He nodded, with a hint of a smile. "Yeah, darling, you can leave right now. They're getting your things together as we speak. You'll be out of here whenever you’re ready.”

"Woah." You sighed and got up. "Guess I'm gonna need a new uniform.”

Haymitch laughed. "Yeah, they’ll want you to ditch the hospital gown. Can't have you running around the base in that thing, can we?"

You chuckled, finally able to after these past few days. 

He noticed your expression and gave you a smirk. "Nervous?" He teased.

“Shut up. Yes.” You couldn’t help but smirk back.

"You survived the Hunger Games, remember? This'll be a piece of cake for you."

You rolled your eyes and soon were whisked away.

You found yourself being led through a maze of corridors, guided by one of Coin’s closest to your new living quarters. The halls were empty aside from the occasional rebel soldier stomping their way to their destination, as if on a mission. Haymitch was right beside you, and you found yourself reaching for his arm. He was a bit startled by the contact but accepted it quietly. "Almost there, sweetheart." He told you, leaning to the side closer to you.

When you got to the rows and rows of doors you presume to be housing, you wondered how long it would take for you to get lost. Not very, you assumed.

The man who led you to your room opened the door for you and before he left without a word, you stopped him. “Hey.”

He turned, still not speaking and you wondered if he could. There had to be quite a few Avoxes here searching for refuge from the Capitol.

“What’s your name?”

“Thom.” He answered and left before you got the chance to ask any more questions. 

“Don’t take it to heart, everyone’s a bit stiff here.” Haymitch said, giving your arm a quick squeeze and taking it upon himself to give you a tour of the small room. “There’s your bed, and there’s the bathroom.”

“Great observations.” You scoffed. 

“Listen, soon they’ll start giving you a schedule every morning that you’ll have to follow. Stick your arm in the wall here and voila. Also, you only get a limited supply of water everyday for showers and the works, so make it count, sweetheart.” He explained. 

“Alright. What’s the schedule usually?”

“It varies from person to person. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all the same. You’ll probably have some free time and mandatory therapy. Other than that I’m not sure.”

You rolled your eyes. “Great.”

Haymitch sighed. “You’re going to have to get used to it, they’re not going to let up anytime soon. Especially if you continue to refuse to speak to him.”

“So, I’m saved from the Capitol just to still be controlled. Do you get how demoralizing it is to be told over and over how I’m safe from someone who doesn’t even understand what unsafe looks like?” You chose to continue when he didn’t respond. “I mean, I honestly don’t think I'll ever feel ‘safe’ ever again.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” He answered.

You looked at him appalled. “What kind of response is that?” 

“Look, this is just exactly the reason why you should be talking to him.”

“Do they have a shrink antagonizing you?” You demanded.

“No. I’m not the one who got tortured.” Haymitch answered, his tone becoming increasingly more frustrated. 

“You don’t think so? Maybe my way was more obvious, but I’d call what they did to you torture.” You could tell he was clenching his teeth now. “Either way, until you’re being forced to listen to the crap that doctor is spewing, don't act like you know what’s good for me.” 

Haymitch left without a word at that and you regretted the bite in your tone. You knew he was trying to help, that’s all he did. He took care of you. At least, he tried to. So why did it feel like something was off? You tried blaming it on the lack of alcohol but something was still eating at you. 

You walked in circles around the room, slowly feeling the walls closing in on you. Cement walls, no windows, suffocating. You would leave the room, but you wouldn’t know where to go. You longed for Haymitch again, and realized you didn’t even know where his living quarters were. So, you stayed there, curled up in the middle of the room, resenting Haymitch for leaving you like this. You knew you deserved it though, for treating him like he hasn’t only ever tried to protect you. Even when he left you in the arena.

Before he was able to visit you while you were recovering, the nurses were surprisingly chatty - not native to District 13 you presumed. Apparently, Haymitch was fighting tooth and nail to get you out. One of the nurses who was working on you had to sedate him to calm him down. Then, he spent almost the entire time you were in the Capitol getting sober. That must have been like being tortured right along with you. 

Guilt ate at you as you sat on the floor for.. Minutes? Hours? Days? Who knew? All you had been doing from the moment you got to 13 was treat Haymitch like all of this was his fault. You’d been up and down since he came to your hospital bed, all because of what? If you couldn’t even understand yourself, you couldn’t imagine how Haymitch was feeling. He lost everyone he cared about and now, it was like you were forcing him to lose you too. 

After a while, you heard footsteps outside your door. Then, the door slid open and you felt a presence standing in front of you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You stop. Upon lifting your head out of your knees, you didn’t see Haymitch, but that rebel who helped you to your room. Thom. “Oh.”

“Dinner is being served. Most everyone is required to show. Are you alright?” Thom offered you a hand, he was much warmer than when you met him. 

You didn’t take his hand, preferring to get up on your own. “Most everyone?”

“What?” He was surprised by your refusal of his help, lowering his hand.

“Most everyone is required to show?” You clarified. 

“Yes. You fall into the category of most everyone. Only those who are hospitalized or unable to leave their room are allowed to skip the meal time.” He clarified in return.

“I see.” 

You follow him down the bright, headache-inducing hallways to the cafeteria. It’s a jarring experience, going from one or two people in your hospital room, to almost the entire population of District 13 surrounding you. 

“Is Haymitch here?” You choke, feeling as though the air has been ripped from your lungs.

“Like I said, only certain people are exempt. If he’s not hospitalized or bed ridden, he’s here.” Thom answered. 

It only served to spike your anxiety. Could he have been hospitalized? Relapsed after your harsh words?

You scanned the room, but it’s giant and all the gray jumpsuits seemed to blend together.

You jumped when Thom spoke up, forgetting he was there. “You have to grab a tray and get in line.” He said, pointing to where the others were getting their food. 

You looked over your shoulder at him. “What are you still doing here?”

He shrugged. “I just want to make sure you’re settling in alright.” 

Bullshit. You rolled your eyes, much to his dismay, and walked over to the line, grabbing a tray. When you find a relatively empty table, Thom still trails behind you. He sits next to you and it’s as if he’s studying you. You ignore his watchful gaze though, your gaze focuses on the crowds of people eating and still getting their food. Looking for Haymitch. 

No sign of him. 

“I heard…” Thom spoke up, taking a moment to think carefully about his words. “You had a rough time in the Capitol.”

You looked at him, was he seriously trying to.. What, make small talk about your ‘rough time in the Capitol’. You could only scoff a laugh.

“I told you I’m only here to make sure you’re adjusting to life here. I know you won’t talk to anyone. And, you have no reason to talk to me, but if you’d give me a chance I-”

“Just how many people know about my life? My therapy sessions?” You couldn’t believe he thought you’d open up to him. “What makes you think I’d tell you anything if even my therapy sessions are apparently being repeated to some random soldier?” You shook your head, scanning the crowd again.

Thom promptly switched tactics, maybe offended by your attitude at this point. “You want to know where Haymitch is?”

Your head snapped back in his direction, you almost gave yourself whiplash. “Spill it.” You sneered, eyelids sliding down to slits. 

“You first.” He replied coolly. 

Taken aback, a long breath left your lungs and you deflated. This guy was bold, you’d give him that. Bribing you to talk about your trauma? Coercing you even? He had no motive to be doing this, so who? 

“Fine. But, I’m not talking until you tell me where Haymitch is.” You stated firmly.

Thom thought this over for a minute. “Deal?” He held out his hand.

You looked between him and his hand before taking it, figuring it wouldn’t make a difference whether you shook his hand or not. 

“He’s in his room.” Thom shrugged. 

It pissed you off, the simplicity of his words. “What number?” Your tone was sharp now.

“First, you’ve got to give me something too.” His demeanor pissed you off too, the calmness.

“Do you think this is a game? I don’t think I need to remind you I have won much worse ones.” 

Silence. 

Must be a game, then. Suddenly, you jumped up out of your seat and bolted out of the cafeteria. You weren’t entirely sure what your destination would be, but you would knock down every door if that was your only way to find Haymitch. 

It was almost like you were in mania. What had caused you to gain the obsession? Why did you feel like you had no choice but to find Haymitch? As if he could fix all your problems that arose the moment you pushed him away.

After a plethora of hallways and doors, you had to stop. There was no Thom in sight when you finally looked behind you and you wondered if he had even attempted to follow you. You took the time to breathe. Your back found a wall, and shortly after your bottom found the floor, your knees your forehead. Choked sobs were forced out by your body as you struggled to inhale the much needed air. 

Maybe it was luck? A coincidence? But a hand rested on your shaking shoulder. Not just any hand. “Get up, sweetheart.” Haymitch’s hand.

You wiped your nose on your shirt before you looked up, but of course you knew it was him. And, you did get up, without a word. He guided you back to his living space, laying you down on his bed and getting you a glass of water. 

You started to think maybe you did need to talk to someone, because it seemed your body was desperately trying to release everything you’d been feeling over the past months, in any way possible. 

“What are you doing?” Haymitch had waited until you were almost finished with your glass of water to speak, but he was exasperated. His voice was practically only a sigh and grumble.

You knew what he meant, your behavior was unsettling even to you and it could get you into a lot of trouble, but so was usual for you. All you could do was shake your head and fill your mouth with the remaining water so you didn’t have to speak. 

“You know, for some reason I thought I could stop playing mentor once you got here. Once I knew you were safe.” He shook his head and laughed at his apparent stupidity. 

“I get it, I’m a burden. But, I didn’t ask you to come get me from the hall.”

“No. You didn’t”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Someone else asked him?

“It’s not supposed to mean anything.”

You felt your head begin to spin at his cryptic answer. “What?”

Haymitch sighed, “Sweetheart, you’re not a burden and you didn’t have to ask me to get you because I care about you. So, stop playing these games.”

“What games?” You challenged, offended by the idea.

“The games called ‘How Long Until I Can Convince Haymitch to Abandon Me’ and ‘Play Pretend That Nobody Likes Me So I Can Wallow in Self-Pity!’” He snarked.

“I am not playing those games.” You felt hot tears begin to stream down your face again before you could stop them.

“Ah, the ‘Cry and Make Haymitch Feel Bad’ game.” He said, his tone was softer now though, less mocking. And he sat down next to you.

You didn’t take the offered comfort though, opting to run off again.

“Y/n!” You heard Haymitch shout, but, like Thom, he didn’t follow you. 

Part Three

[yummyuta]

under the same roof | l.j ft l.m

♡ genre: smut - mdni! slight angst | roomates to lovers | word count: 2,455

♡ pairing: lee jeno x f. reader

♡ warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f. recieving)

♡ summary: tensions rise when your roommate mark goes out of town for a few days, leaving you with your other unfamiliar roommate jeno. will you be able to bridge the gap between the two of you or continue to avoid each other until mark returns?

♡ authors note: this idea was based off a dream i had (not abt these members) but i wanted to adapt it.

♡ song recommendation:

"should I just move out? i don’t want to cause any problems,” your voice tinged with unease. mark turned to you, his gaze softening. he took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. the voices from the movie you were watching fading into the background. "dont be ridiculous, i want you to stay,” he said firmly before pausing. “however you aren't going to like this. i do have to go out of town for a few days for work.”

your eyes widened, and you felt a pang of anxiety. “please don’t go. or at least take me with you,” you pleaded, clinging to best friend and fellow roommate's arm. mark frowned, his expression a mix of sympathy and practicality. “if you get uncomfortable, you can stay with chenle or haechan or literally anyone else. i don’t want you to feel stuck here with jeno.”

just then, jeno emerged from his room and observed the exchange from the doorway, his expression inscrutable. "he hates me mark and i dont know why or how to fix it," you said, voice low. upon hearing that he shook his head and retreated back into his room.

it had been a few months since you had moved in with mark and one of his close friends, jeno. you felt like a burden, suddenly interfering on their space like this. you had unfortunately found out your boyfriend was cheating and had just gotten dumped, leaving you in a tough spot. with nowhere else to turn and mark being a saint, he offered his help to you. upon your arrival, you were told that jeno had a puppy like deamenor to him and that he was harmless. however, as soon as you stepped through the door, boxes in your arm slightly blocking your view, you crashed into his strong figure. looking up at him, apologizing profusely, he had an unreadable expression on his face, barely holding eye contact with you. without saying a word, he brushed past your shoulder and entered his room. since that day, you tiptoed around him, unsure of how to proceed. you weren't a very outgoing person to begin with, and making new friends was always an adjustment for you. mark tried to bridge the gap between you for the first few weeks, but it was no use, jeno wasn't budging. "hes stuck in his own ways. thats just jeno, but eventually, he will come around." mark was quick to say whenever he noticed you getting upset.

the next day, mark was gone and the apartment was eerily quiet. you wandered into the kitchen having just woken up, before spotting jeno. you barely acknowledged each other. reaching up for your coffee mug in the cupboard, you felt jenos gaze fall on you. "why are you wearing my shirt?” he asked, his voice slightly accusatory. jeno hardly ever spoke to you, not used to hearing him, you froze in place and muttered, “fuck,” under your breath. “i thought it was mark's. the laundry must have gotten mixed up." you studdered out looking at your feet, not wanting to meet his eyes. "but I can give it back.”

jeno's eyes softened slightly, a smile peeking its way onto his lips. he reached up behind you, outstretching his muscular arms, grabbing the mug you were having a hard time reaching from the shelf with one hand. he lingered for a moment, the sounds of your heart ringing in your eardrums. “keep it." his body pressed against yours, the other hand that was by his sides, brushing the hem where the shirt met the tops of your thighs. "it looks good on you.” he whispered in your ear. with that, he set the cup on the counter next to you and turned to leave the room.

later that day, you found jeno in the living room staring intently at the tv screen playing video games. you hesitated but eventually joined him on the couch. you didn't speak at first, his voice shocking you for the second time that day when he asked if you wanted to play with him. as the hours passed, you became more comfortable and ended up stretching out with your legs draped over his lap. jeno's hand lightly rested on them occasionally tapping or rubbing them when he wasn't pressing the controls on his remote. the awkwardness was fading as you got used to his presence. what was once an intimidating aura quickly softened and became comforting.

getting bored of staring at the tv screen, you and jeno began to further unwind with drinks and music, sitting criss cross on the living room floor, trying to break down the walls that had surrounded you. what better way to do that than with a game of truth or dare. eventually, the conversation turned to why jeno had been distant with you.

"i was nervous,” he admitted, his tone sincere. “i didn’t know much about you before you moved in. you’re one of mark's closest friends, and to be honest, i thought there might be something going on between you two, so i wanted to be respectful of that.” you laughed, and jeno jumped at hearing the sudden sound. it surprised him, but it was adorable, and he wanted to hear it more. "mark is like a brother to me, we ran around in our diapers together as kids"

jeno's cheeks flushed, a ting of embarrassment present on them. he moved closer, his eyes studying yours before continuing. “well, i think its cute how you cling to him.” you rolled your eyes playfully, you couldn’t help but feel flustered. “trust me, we aren't normally like that. i was only clingy to him because i couldn’t even go near you” you confessed, barely even registering what you said. jeno scooted closer to you, placing a hand on your bare knee. “looks like you can get close to me now,” jeno said softly, faces inches apart. your eyes flickered from his fingers, clutching the skin of your leg to the darkening pools in his eyes. you cleared your throat "um its my turn, i think," your voice becoming hoarse. "so what will it be truth....or dare" jeno quipped, lips curling upwards.

you felt a rush of emotion go through you. you didn't know if it was the liquid courage that you had, or if you were finally reaching a turning point but unable to resist, you whispered, “dare,” before leaning in. "i think you know what i want," he said in a hushed tone. his breath was mingling with your own, as you contemplated. just earlier today, you were terrified of the man, but that fear had turned to lust and greed. "fuck it" you murmured, placing your lips on his. jeno immediately took both your cheeks in his hands, pulling you in closer. the minute you moved in and crashed into him, you bumped him off his axis. he was flustered, and that never happened to him. you were beautiful and he knew he had to control himself for the sake of keeping the peace but now here you were in his arms, kissing him with such force, you knocked him even more off his guard.

you slipped your hands up his black tee. he was toned and felt incredibly hot against you. you broke away from the kiss, gasping for air. the sexual energy in the room was turned up 10x when he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the rest of his body. you had to stop yourself from drooling at the sight. to be honest, the moment you met jeno, despite how he treated you, you felt drawn to him and maybe that's why it upset you so much that he didnt feel the same or so you thought.

it had been so long since you had been intimate with a man. every atom in your body was relishing at the feeling. you were extra sensitive, his hands gripped your...well his shirt and hiked it up to your belly button, as he kissed down your neck, to your collarbones, practically ripping the shirt in all directions to get as much access to you as he could. once he reached the top of your underwear, he sunk his teeth into the fabric, pulling down. honestly, he wasn't sure what had overcame him. this urge was unlike anything he had ever felt. on one hand, he felt like he had to prove just how sorry he was for how he treated you before and showed you that he wanted to do better. on the other, he had heard about your breakup from mark before you moved in, and as be observed you this whole time, he couldn't imagine why any man would be dumb enough to cheat on you. he wanted you to forget all about the hurt and finally move on with him.

he looked up at you, searching your eyes for any hint of hesistation, but all he was met with was the same desire mirroring his own. "do you trust me?" he asked, wanting confirmation. you wrapped a hand around his neck, pushing him closer to where you wanted him. thats all it took for him to wrap his lips on your clit. a surge of electricity surged through you, his mouth hot and tongue wet and skilled. he flicked the nub before moving down to your entrace, diving in deeper and twisting and turning to hit all the angles in your walls. if this was his form of an apology consider all to be forgiven.

you tasted like hints of cherry from the soju you had been drinking. your thighs tightened around his head, entrapping him and closing any potential opportunity for air to seep through. he chuckled against your heat, sending vibrations further into you. the noises you made and movement of your hips pressing into his face, he could tell you were close, and as much as he wanted to taste you completely, the throbbing in his pants was becoming unbearable. he was griding into the floor, the thought of your pussy sucking in his cock was swimming in his head as he swirled his tongue in circles around your nub once more. he pulled himself away from you, and before you could protest, he leaned up, pressing his clothed dick in between your thighs and buried his face in between your tits.

"do you still think i hate you?" he whimpered into your chest as he continued his movements. precum was leaking through his sweats mixing with yours, but before he could continue, he wanted to be sure the sex filled air was clear. you brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, you were seeing the puppy look for the very first time. every worry, negative thought, any resentment you had felt towards him melted away. you brought his face closer to yours, the distance between you becoming insufferable. you realized then that you didn't need any more space from jeno. space was a response to fear, and you had no reason for that any longer. "i think we have come to an understanding now" you said before filling in the gap.

you were fully locked in to each other, his hips swaying and snapping into yours. your pussy was like a void, minds going completely numb as pleasure took over. it wasn't enough for you, as you clawed his shoulders and back, wanting his body as near to you as possible. your lips moving in harmony to the feeling of his cock curling into you. you felt like you were falling through the floor, your back digging into the carpet below you as jeno pushed and bent your body to his will. if you had known that you were living with a sex god, you would have made amends with jeno long ago.

curse words littered out of your mouth, your orgasm teetering over your head. you were clinging onto it for so long, unable to let go of this feeling. when jeno had his way with you, would he go back to pretending like you didn't exist when mark got home? you didnt want to think of it, you wanted to place your faith in jeno. it was only one night, realistically how much could this actually change things between you two. jeno slowed his movements down for a moment, noticing how you had tensed up and tears began forming in your eyes. he couldn't bring himself to fully stop, not when you were both this close to being fully enveloped in each other. he kissed away the salty tears as they fell, moving his hand that was leaving bruises on your hip to your chin lifting to meet his tender gaze.

"stay with me, i promise i won't leave you alone again." he said confidently. you saw a twinkle of hope in his eyes, the sparkle of the truth. your mind began to settle, nodding your head and blush, finding its way onto your cheeks. jeno sped his hips up again, knocking your foreheads together as he smashed his lips into yours again, drowning in them. your orgasm thrashed over you moments later, finally feeling at peace. the war between your mind, body, and heart was settling. you lay there with jeno on the carpet of your living room, basking in the feeling of acceptance of one another.

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

you woke up the next morning in jeno's room, having moved from your previous spot after you had regained yourselves. remnants from your late night sexscapade still hanging in the air. you were still groggy when you heard mark’s voice calling your name from the living room. "y/n? are you here?" mark’s voice was full of concern.

you jumped out of bed, shaking jeno awake. "jeno! get up! go distract mark and keep him in the kitchen!" jeno rubbed his eyes, looking confused but nodded quickly. you scrambled to throw on some clothes. the urgency was palpable—you and jeno's stuff was scattered in the living room, and mark was dangerously close to discovering it. as you finished collecting your things and hiding them, you heard mark's voice getting closer and nearly collided with him as he exited the kitchen. reacting instinctively, you threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"whoa, you missed me that much?" mark laughed, his voice a mix of surprise and amusement. "was it really that bad without me?" he winced. you managed a laugh, "yeah, it was the worst." glancing over mark's shoulder and catching jeno's gaze. he was standing behind mark with a knowing look. you sighed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief.

you all settled down on the couch and started to fill mark in on the events of the past few days. "so, jeno and I spent some time together, and we actually got closer." mark looked intrigued. "oh, really? that’s great! what did you guys do?" you hesitated, choosing to leave out the more intimate details. "just hung out, talked a lot. it was... nice." mark offered a smile before wrapping his arms around both of your shoulders. "maybe i should go out of town more often then. i told you he would come around eventually." you could feel jeno's eyes lingering on you, and he added, "yeah, you should," offering you a wink.

♡ ending authors note: i was getting really into it and decided to split this up into another part, so that will be uploaded very soon! i hope you enjoyed