#I really honestly don’t know how to tag this

[somanyquestions-featuringanxiety]

Thx for the tag!! Here we go…

1. The Umbrella Academy, Angel The Series and Torchwood

2. They’re long and pale pink and have sparkly hedgehogs on them!

3. I LOVE smoothies, especially anything with berries!

4. Usually a pretty dress, sometimes a nice skirt and top

5. Eggs are amazing in all forms, but my fav is soft boiled with soldiers!

6. A bookmark?? Like a normal person???

7. My wardrobe is very colourful, I’m not really sure!

8. I don’t really collect anything, though I like to own copies of my favourite books

9. I have a comforting playlist which is my go to, and I find the smell of lavender calming too :)

10. Like the ones that ask you what you most relate to or what you feel best represents you

11. No, but I think glasses are super pretty!

12. I love her kindness and genuine love and concern for me and all her other friends, it’s really beautiful

13. Pen all the way, and it has to be blue or black!

14. Definitely my mum’s house and specifically my bedroom, but also probably my school

15. I have ZERO house plants because I have ZERO gardening skills, but I have a few fake plants (I KNOW ITS CHEATING BUT I CANNOT KEEP ANY PLANTS ALIVE OK 😭)

16. My fav hoodie is pink and fluffy and has rabbits on the back!!! I’ve had it for around four years I think, and one time I wore it camping and a small chunk of burning wood flew from the campfire and landed on my sleeve, so now it’s got a hole, but I still love it :D

17. A bunch of ink refills for my fav pens

18. Honestly anything in the renaissance era, specifically anything Leonardo da Vinci related, I’m super nerdy about him lol

19. That time two years ago when me and a friend dressed up as Aziraphale and Crowley (I got to be Aziraphale!!!)

20. Tbh I’m really good at maths, but idk which kind (she says while on the verge of tears due to a maths problem)

21. I’m not much of an artist but like I already said ik a huge nerd about Leonardo da Vinci so I guess his works interest me? I do like the renaissance style

22. Iced!

23. Whatever I feel like that day! It varies all the time, but my go to is anything by The Crane Wives (my fav band)

24. Don’t have my licence yet

25. No, and I don’t think I’ll ever get any (maybe my ears pierced if I ever get over my INTENSE fear of needles)

26. I am not particularly good at cooking or baking, but I do like to bake the occasional cake or some biscuits!

27. My home keys are on a keychain with a clear shell thing full of water and blue glitter, it’s really pretty!

28. My swimming level is like… not drowning. But I’m weak as fuck, have no coordination, terrible technique and I’m slow as hell

29. I had a TON of Lego when I was younger, and most of it is disassembled in boxes now except my fav sets which were all the Harry Potter ones, especially the burrow!

30. Yes, one side is uniform, T-shirts, long pants and skirts, the other is everything else, and within both sides everything is sorted by colour

31. I’ve genuinely got no idea, I hardly ever watch music videos

32. I’d probably do some pale pink streaks!

33. Headphones all the way!!!

34. Yes

35. A rabbit a very crafty friend of mine crocheted for me , except one of its arms is almost completely falling off now since it’s over a year old and I cannot sew for the life of me

36. I like to think l’m pretty good at air hockey, though I don’t know how accurate that is

37. I can stand it, but I prefer to have it just be me while either watching tv or listening to music while doing it

38. My fav show ever is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and though some of my friends have watched a bit none of them really like it and it makes me so sad :(

39. Watching doctor who and eating dinner

40. Idk, probs willow trees (because I ADORE willow from BTVS but also because they’re pretty)

41. Coconut vanilla!

42. I have a few, like cookie run kingdom and geometry dash, but I haven’t played them in ages

43. Definitely on, but I’ve been curious about what it’s like with the lights off

44. Stick it in my purse and hope I remember it’s there when I need it (I don’t)

45. Yeah it’s pretty good! Definitely fluctuates a lot though depending on the speed and size I’m writing and how much effort I can be bothered to put into it

46. I don’t know if this is the latest but my fav band was introduced to me via a friend, and it was one of the best things to ever happen to me

47. Short, easy, pretty walks? Yes. Hilly hike things where’s its stupidly hot, ugly and the middle of nowhere? Absolutely not

48. Yes, a pretty pink bowl with cool patterns on it

49. Sit in bed and read!! Bonus points if it’s cold enough for an open fire

50. Under one soft blanket, in soft loose long sleeved pyjamas, a bit of background noise coming from outside my room but nothing loud, cool temperature, knowing I have no alarm tmrw

Whew, did them all!

No pressure tags (I know this was long but it’s super fun!)

@niamhings @amy-harper @hawthorne-swift-enthusiasttt @yourlocalchronicdaydreamer @yourlocalwhovian @n3rdchi1d + anyone who wants to!

50 Questions Just Because

What are three shows in your watchlist that you’ve been meaning to get to?

Describe your favorite pair of socks

Do you like smoothies?

What do you wear when you have to dress nicely?

How do you like your eggs?

What do you use to keep your place when you’re reading a book?

What color dominates your closet?

Do you collect anything? If so, what?

What sounds or scents calm you down?

What’s your favorite kind of uquiz question? (Lyric, color, aesthetic, etc)

Do you wear glasses or contacts?

What’s something about your best friend that you love?

Do you prefer to write in pen or pencil?

What are some places where you feel most at home?

Do you have any houseplants? Do any of them have names?

Describe your favorite hoodie. How long have you had it? What makes it unique?

What’s the last thing you ordered online?

What’s one historical event that you would have liked to have witnessed?

What’s your favorite Halloween costume from when you were a kid?

What kind of math are you best at?

What’s your favorite period in art history, your favorite famous work and/or your favorite style of art? If you don’t know any that’s ok!

Iced or hot drinks?

Which songs do you like to sing in the shower?

Are you a good driver?

Do you have any piercings or tattoos? Are there any that you want?

Can you cook or bake? If so, what are some of your specialties?

Do you have any keychains on your home or car keys? Describe them!

Can you swim very well? Do you like swimming?

Did you play with Legos as a kid? What was your favorite set?

Is your closet organized? If so, how?

What’s the last music video you watched?

If you could dye your hair any color, regardless of how you think it would look, what color would you choose?

Headphones or earbuds?

Can you read analog clocks?

Describe your favorite stuffed animal, either now or from when you were a kid.

What’s an arcade or table game (air hockey, ping pong, etc) that you’re really good at?

Do you mind if others are in the kitchen when you’re cooking or baking?

What’s one show you watch or musician you listen to that your friends know nothing about?

What was the best part of your day today?

What’s your favorite kind of tree?

What scent is your deodorant?

Do you have any games on your phone? If so, which one(s) is/are your favorite?

Do you shower with the lights on or off?

What do you do with spare change?

Do you have good handwriting?

What’s the last thing a friend recommended to you that you looked into and actually liked?

Do you like to go on walks?

Do you have a favorite plate or bowl?

What’s your favorite thing to do when it’s raining?

Describe your perfect sleeping conditions

[pencil-n-pen]

I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING

⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆

previous | kofi | masterlist

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

₊ ⊹

I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.

-mirrorball, taylor swift

₊ ⊹

summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again

cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap

a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!

read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)

this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Spencer is a really good boyfriend.

Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.

He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.

He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.

But you still worry.

All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.

“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”

A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”

The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”

“More like uptight.”

“Dad—“

“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”

Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.

You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“

“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”

(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)

Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."

You don't dignify his words with a response.

"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."

"It's not funny."

"Don't be like that--"

"Goodbye."

You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.

The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.

Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.

But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.

You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.

Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.

You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.

So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.

This, of course, is easier said than done.

It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.

But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.

But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.

You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.

"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."

"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."

He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.

It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?

When is it all going to end?

--

Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.

JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."

That little voice comes back.

Too much too much too much too much too much--

"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.

JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."

You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.

Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.

You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.

Be better. Try harder.

You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.

--

You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.

"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"

A little stab of ice in your stomach.

"I don't know. I think it's nice."

"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."

You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.

A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.

--

The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—

That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.

That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.

But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?

--

You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.

It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.

You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.

You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.

--

The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.

You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.

It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.

He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.

Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—

"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"

"Yes?" You croak.

His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.

Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.

He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.

You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.

"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."

He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."

"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"

You freeze. "What do you mean?"

He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.

"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."

Your finger's twitch at your sides.

His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."

He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.

Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.

The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.

"My parents think you're going to leave me."

Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"

"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."

"But that's not your fault."

You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"

You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.

I'm not easy to love.

"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."

"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."

He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"

You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"

"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."

His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."

He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."

The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.

"Maybe."

"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"

Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"

A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."

That makes you look up. "Really?"

He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."

"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"

"When did you go to the vet's—"

"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.

"What do I do now?"

"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."

"What?"

You're so close your breaths are mingling.

"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."

"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."

His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.

"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."

You laugh. "I do not swoon."

"You will."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.

It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.

--

Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.

He also starts needing you a bit... louder.

It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.

Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Either finished it or it can be done later."

You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.

He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.

"Your hair smells good."

"Like what?"

"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."

You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.

"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"

"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."

He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.

--

Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.

You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.

"You wanna know something cool?"

"You know it,"

"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."

"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"

"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."

"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."

"Should we get dinner afterwards?"

"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."

--

Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.

You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.

He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.

"Should I move?"

"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."

Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.

--

It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the teeth, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the T.V.

You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.

"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.

And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.

And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.

"I love you."

He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.

"I love you too."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

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[rose-in-blue]

Taste of You

Alastor x reader

Warnings/tags: pretty suggestive, cursing, Alastor being clever aka a bitch, sassy!reader, afab reader, an aggressive amount of parenthesis and commas, apparently I don't know how to write Alastor x reader where Charlie doesn't interrupt at the end

Summary: Alastor left a bunch of hickeys and bite marks on you, and you're not happy about them being visible. His solution? Leave a few more.

1191 words

A/n: for refrence, I was inspired by this youtube short

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

You descended down the stairs to the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, all eyes on you. They might have been looking at your intricate updo, or perhaps your elegant makeup, or maybe even your stunning red dress. 

You doubt that, though. More likely, they were all staring at the purple-and-red hickeys and bite marks that peeked out from behind your hair and lay on full display on the exposed part of your neck and chest. Courtesy of Alastor, of course.

Though he stared at you, you didn’t look at him— instead, taking in the dancers and partiers of Charlie’s classy ball. You’d been keeping your relationship with the Radio Demon a secret (though, after tonight, it wouldn’t be a surprise if everyone knew).

At the bottom of the stairs, you look around, bashfully taking in everyone’s reactions— Angel, smirking; Husk, concerned; Charlie and Vaggie, nowhere to be seen; and Nifty, who didn’t seem to notice. You ignored Angel (now making suggestive hand gestures from across the room), and took your place standing next to Alastor, who was watching the dancing. He glanced down at you, grin growing wider.

“Evening, dear.”

“Alastor.” You refused to give him any more than that.

“You look nice,” he commented.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

“Oh, you did, sweetheart, and such an excellent job, too!” Alastor was clearly in a good mood, happy to irk you. “If I recall, that was how you got such… gorgeous marks.” His voice, now sultry, had lowered an octave.

You blushed, then scoffed. “I’d hardly call them gorgeous.”

Alastor, apparently, took that as a challenge to his vocabulary. “No? How about… tantalizing, then?” When he wasn’t rewarded with a smile from you, he continued. “Ravishing? Stunning? Enticing?”

You just rolled your eyes, not in the mood.

Alastor almost frowned. “Remarkable? Marvelous? Breathtaking? Thrilling?”

Obviously, Alastor didn’t seem to get the fact that you were irritated by the marks, not looking for the perfect word to describe them. He continued, “Attractive? Comely? Pe—” 

At that, you cut him off. “No! Just dark marks that will bruise and stay here for weeks that I can’t cover with makeup that will embarrass me every time I see another person. Is there a word for that, Alastor?! Hmm?!”

Surprised at your outburst, he chuckled. “Well, well! Someone’s pissy!”

You were so done with him. “Well, maybe I’m pissy because someone left giant hickeys and bite marks on my neck the night before Charlie’s big dance!” you not-so-subtly hinted, eyes never leaving the dance floor.

You could see Alastor grinning out of the corner of your eye. The fucker is proud of himself! you thought.

Alastor was, indeed, proud of himself. Again (but louder this time), he remarked, “Don’t blame me, darling. You seemed to enjoy getting them.”

You blushed. People had definitely heard that, and they knew it was aimed at you even though you still hadn’t looked him in his eyes. Quietly, some sinners began remarking among each other things that you couldn’t really make out.

“Alastor!” you hissed.

“Mhm, yes, dear?”

You finally looked at him. A large smirk played across his face, obviously not caring what the low-lifes around him thought. In fact, he seemed to like the fact that they made you uncomfortable. “Honestly, sweetheart, I’m surprised at you! You seem to have no shame whatsoever in my bedroom last night, yet now…”

You let out a small squeak, face crimson, as you smacked his arm. “Alastor! Seriously!” you reprimand under your breath.

He glanced around, as if just now noticing the people staring. Voice lowered, he queried, “Ashamed, darling? Would you perhaps prefer to continue… in private?” 

Subtly nodding, you agreed. “Very much so.”

Alastor's smile widened. “But of course!” Grabbing your arm in one hand and his staff in the other, he waltzed you up the stairs to the first floor hallway, making his way to your room. After you were long out of sight of the guests, he turned on you, pinning you to the wall. Head lowered, he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. “Oh, ma chérie, ma vie, mon c��ur. Tu es, à toi seule, la plus belle femme sur laquelle j'ai jamais posé les yeux. Je ne veux rien d'autre que t'aimer, te serrer dans mes bras, ne jamais te lâcher…” he murmured.

You had no fucking idea what he was saying, but it seemed romantic (and probably something too sappy for him to say in Engish).

His hands trailed up and down your body, head buried in your neck. You whined as his mouth locked onto the skin just below your ear. Pressing himself into you, Alastor let out a small growl as his kissing grew more fervent. You gasped, arching your back so that your torso crashed into his. One of his arms came to rest on the wall near your face, cageing you in, while the other drifted down— past the lumps of your breasts, past your stomach, past everything until it reached the hem of your skirt.

“It’s a real shame you wore such… revealing clothing tonight,” Alastor whispered, lips still on your neck, surely having left another hickey.

You rolled your eyes at that— you didn’t really think that a neckline that barely showed your collarbones and a skirt hem that almost reached your knees was revealing, but Alastor apparently did. “Oh, really, Al? And why is that?” you wondered.

He chuckled, hand sliding farther up under your skirt, reaching your midthigh. “We’re in Hell, dear. Don’t you think that some…h̸͓͙̟͆̀u̶̧̦̫͕̍̾͐̎n̶̘͍͇̏g̵̨̯̦͘r̵͚͉̼̈́y̷͇̅́̀...sinner might want a taste for what you have to offer?” At the word hungry, his eyes flashed into radio dials as his hand reached your inner thigh.

Satan, you sure hoped he was that horny hungry sinner. “I don’t know, Alastor. Maybe I wanted that hungry sinner to take a taste of me.”

“Mhmmm… maybe he will.” Alastor bit down on your neck as his hand finally, finally reached its destination. You gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure, until it all started to fade into the second one. 

“‘Maybe’?” you quoted.

He chuckled, mouth still against your neck, fingers slowly moving under your skirt. “Maybe…” he repeated, “maybe if you’re a good girl and you promise not to be upset about the marks I leave. Can you do that, dear? Can you be a good little slut and enjoy them?”

You never took Alastor for one who was into dirty talk, but you weren’t complaining.

“Yes, Alastor,” you breathed. “Anything for you.”

“Good girl,” he grinned, fingers starting to push your panties aside. 

Before he could get any farther, though, Charlie came running up the stairs and into the hall. 

“Hey guys I saw you left the party and OHMYFUCKIMSOSORRYIMGOINGNOW—” she screamed, retreating. 

Alastor looked back at you, still grinning. “Shall we continue this up in my room?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” you smiled.

“But only if…?” he leaned closer, hand coming out from under your skirt.

Desperate for the contact you had lost, you murmured, “Only if I don’t make a fuss about the marks, yes, I promise, Alastor!”

He smiled impossibly wider. “Lovely.”

[sencrose]

— 1004

pairing: yukimiya kenyu x f!reader

tags: established relationship, pwp, dry humping, cunnilingus, pet name (pretty girl), honestly the most vanilla thing i’ll ever write probably tbh

wc: 2.4k

summary: your boyfriend is adamant on showing just how much he loves you.

a/n: yeehaw first time writing for blue lock! vanilla and like... romance is not my usual thing so hope it's ok lol. dividers by @/adornedwithlight

ao3 link here

Everything’s great with your boyfriend.

For the most part.

He’s perfect on paper: kind, treats you well, adored by friends and family members alike. Never fails to bring a smile to your face whenever you see him. But that’s what makes it all the more frustrating when his hands grab your thighs with an ironclad grip, begging you to stop straddling him.

It’s not the first time this has happened, far from it. Maybe you were a bit foolish in knowingly dating someone so chaste, thinking you’d be able to convince him otherwise. But every time he rejects your advances, you can’t help but wonder why he’s still with you. Still, you heed his request, getting off him to take a seat next to him on the couch.

“Yukki…” you trail off, huddling into yourself as you find the words to say next, “do you like me?”

Kenyu’s eyes widen, his expression full of concern, as if you kicked a puppy right in front of him. “Huh? Where’s that coming from?”

“I mean…” you mumble, resting your face on top of your knees, “we never do anything more than kissing.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop. The ball in your throat grows, the words spilling from your mouth, like water from a dam that’s been compromised.

“I know you want to wait ‘til marriage but, sometimes it feels like you don’t like me when that’s all we do,” you pause, looking over at him when a twang of guilt strikes your chest before looking down again, “I-I mean we don’t have to go all the way or anything like that.”

“I-It’s nothing like that,” he sighs, pinching his temple before continuing, “I like you, a lot. You could even say that I love you.” The confession makes your skin run hot, even though you’ve heard it plenty of times before.

“It’s not that I don’t want to do it, I’m just scared.” Kenyu shifts again, attempting to face you before continuing, but the second his eyes meet yours, he looks away. “When you get on top of me like that…” Now it’s his turn to be flustered, his skin blooming a pretty shade of pink as he struggles to thread his words together. “I don’t think I can last long.”

You sit up properly, tilting your head quizzically. He has your full attention now. “Huh?”

“It feels crazy good,” Kenyu continues, struggling to meet your gaze, “good enough to make me… You know.” He stops himself short of the word, but you both know what he means. He won’t say it out loud because he won’t know what to do with himself. Though if you’re being honest, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself either.

The silence is deafening. It’s as if the room is waiting for a response. The realization strikes you like lightning, sudden and bright. It’s not that your boyfriend doesn’t like you, quite the opposite in fact. He might like you a little too much.

“Ah, but that’s kinda embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks sheepishly, breaking the silence first and brandishing a forced smile to hide his insecurity.

“Yukki,” you say before putting your hands on either side of his face before pressing, “look at me.”

“I’m looking,” he mumbles through his squished lips.

“I don’t mind. Actually…” you look off to the side even though you’re the one who forced this intimate display of eye contact, “I think it’s really hot.”

His eyebrows manage to shoot up in shock, even in this position. “You sure?”

“You think I’d lie to you?”

He chuckles, and you can hear the relief in his voice. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Then will you let me do the honors?” you ask, looking up at him doe-eyed and fluttering your lashes.

“S-Sure. But can we take it slow?”

“Whatever you want, Yukki,” you say softly, voice honeyed with affection as you get on top of him again. Kenyu shifts, his hands wrapping around your thighs softer this time.

It’s as if something’s shifted. You’ve kissed each other plenty of times before, but now that the intention to go further lies in the air, it’s like your first time again. Awkward, flustered, apologetic as you try to kiss him and accidentally bump foreheads together.

Kenyu laughs, because no matter what you do, he always finds you adorable. He decides to take his hands off your thighs and place them on the back of your head, gently bringing you in for a kiss that puts romance movies to shame. He’s in no rush, savoring the taste of you on his lips as he always does.

Kenyu always knows how to bring you back to Earth. He cherishes you–holds and kisses you like you’re the most delicate piece of china in a glass cabinet. And while this is nice enough on its own, you have other things you’ve been wanting to try. You keep his preferences in mind, taking it slow with a lazy roll of your hips. Even with that, you can hear his voice catching in his throat.

You use the opportunity to take it a bit further and slip your tongue in, which he welcomes. Every time you take it a bit further–whether it’s biting his lip or playing with his tongue–his self control chips a little more, whispered moans filling your mouth.

With every kiss, every roll of your hips, you can feel his length growing, getting hotter even when it’s confined by the fabric of his pants. It makes you want to work just a little harder, get yourself a little closer to cumming with him. The fabric is frustrating, an annoying reminder of just how close yet far you are from him. Though, that frustration starts to melt when Kenyu follows the rhythm of your hips.

It’s getting harder to keep your promise when he’s this cute. When you wrap your arms around his neck, you can feel just how hot and bothered he is, as if his soft whimpers weren’t enough of a testament already. What was once a soft grasp behind your head grows into something more primal and unrefined, desperation running through his fingertips as he grabs whatever he can to bring you closer to him.

You’re not any better, the speed of your hips picking up, desperate to hear him so needy. It’s the first time you’ve heard him like this.

As you lose your control and composure, your hips grind against him harder. Kenyu can’t keep his voice back any longer, desperate groans leaving his mouth with a quiver of his lips. Every sound he gives you goes straight to your pussy, making you warm and greedy for more.

You can feel the wet spot on your panties grow as you rub against him and wonder if he can feel it too. It might be pushing it, but the thought of freeing his cock shoots through your head. It feels and looks so tight against the fabric, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Yukki,” you pause and give a glance at his zipper, “can I?”

“I thought we weren’t going all the way,” he replies, breathless as he looks up at you.

“We aren’t… I just wanna feel you more,” you say meekly, “that’s ok, right?”

His eyes widen like saucers before nodding. “Y-Yeah, go for it.”

So you do, unzipping his pants like you’re unwrapping a present—it might as well be one. You adjust and place yourself right on top and start again, though the sensation is much better this time around for both of you. You see it in the way Yuuki immediately throws his head back and moans, feel it in the way your cunt slides against his heat with only two layers of thin fabric keeping you apart.

All of it’s just too much for you–the pre that’s smeared on his boxers, the warmth of his cock against your clothed folds. It’s the closest you’ve been to him, to going all the way. Everything about it makes you more desperate to see him cum, so you focus all your attention on his leaky tip, just to see how sticky you can make it.

The sight of you proves to be too much for Kenyu, as he brings up his arm to shield his eyes. You’re quick to move it out of the way, a silent plea for him to look at you, look at where you’re nearly connected.

“Getting close?” you ask, sweet as sugar. Just the sound of your voice is enough to send him over the edge, but he wants to hold out, even if it’s just for a moment longer.

“You gotta look at me when you cum,” you plead.

Kenyu bites his lip and groans before shakily nodding.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bring your face closer to his until you’re touching forehead to forehead–close enough to feel every pant, every tremor of his voice.

“You love me?” you moan, digging your hips into him deeper.

“God, I love you so much,” he moans back, eyes lined with tears that are one blink from falling.

Kenyu’s desperately rutting his hips into you, and you swear you can feel him prodding at your entrance.

You feel it when Kenyu cums with a gravelly groan, his chest rattling as he cries. Even more so when you keep humping him, as his boxers get stickier and mix with your slick.

“W-Wait, too much,” he gasps, muscles visibly tightening in his neck as he throws his head back.

You can’t take your eyes off of the point where your undergarments meet, fabric soaked and darkened from the fluids.

“You really love me, huh?” you ask with a smile.

“Of course,” he sighs contentedly before giving you a soft peck on the cheek. It makes it all too easy to snuggle into him and lie your head on his chest. Before you can get too comfortable, Kenyu shifts his body and you’re suddenly far too aware of the sticky patch touching your underwear.

“Um… Should we clean up?” you ask, preparing yourself to dismount before Kenyu shifts his weight to push you back down on the couch, his hands around your wrists. Determination lights a fire in his eyes.

“You gotta let me return the favor.”

“H-Huh?”

“Let you…” he glances down at the wet spot of your panties before looking back at you, “you know?”

Oh.

“N-No, this is enough for me Yukki, I don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“But I do want this,” he assures you before kissing your cheek, his hands carefully tracing the curve of your hips, “I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”

“I mean,” you pause, shuffling a bit and adjusting your gaze away from him, “if you’re okay with it.”

That’s all the approval he needs to kiss you, drawing a trail down your body.

Kenyu’s careful and meticulous, savoring every press of his lips against your skin. Whether it’s your neck, chest, waist, he lingers as if he doesn’t want to leave it behind. Every opened mouth kiss, flick of his tongue filled with adoration.

Whatever ritual he has going on, it doesn’t fail to make you shiver in anticipation, have butterflies blooming in your stomach. It makes you shy, being so exposed in front of him. In a way, it’s a little nostalgic—reminds you of the first time he dropped you off at your apartment and said his goodbyes with a kiss.

But then you’re brought back to the moment when Kenyu adjusts and shifts you to lie down on your back. His hands are there every step of the way, a silent plea to let him take care of everything.

He takes his time with you, slowly kissing a path up your leg. With each kiss, he lingers a moment longer. A playful bite here, a hint of tongue there. It keeps you on edge, just a little. Every hushed gasp or squeal earns a huff and a smile out of him.

“My pretty girl,” he sighs, adoration laced in his breath.

Carefully, he tests the waters with a delicate kiss before going in with a drag of his tongue as soon as a moan slips from your lips. From there, he uses his tongue with a determination you usually only see on the field from afar, like he’s trying to tear a hole in your underwear. The cotton gets wetter with every stroke of his tongue, sticky fabric clinging to your lips.

With his enthusiasm, it’s as if the underwear isn’t even there. All you can feel is Kenyu’s tongue, hot and heavy, incessantly drawing circles around your clit. It’s too much, looking down and seeing his head disappear under the fabric of your skirt. When you instinctively shut your legs out of embarrassment, his hands hook around your thighs and bring you closer. It brings a newly lit passion out of him, has him pressing his face even harder into your pussy.

The noises he makes while sucking on the fabric is too much for your ears, too much for a first time. It’s messy, unrefined, and nothing you would expect from your prim and proper boyfriend. Something about seeing him like this, so desperate and eager to serve, only adds to your arousal.

Despite how laser focused he is on your clit, on making you reach the apex of pleasure, he brings his hand to yours, your fingers intertwining. His thumb rubs circles into your skin, something he always does to comfort you. Maybe he feels it coming before you, with the way your breathing intensifies, the way your moans get louder and all the more cuter.

“You love me too, don’t you?” he asks, hushed and panting.

“L-Love you so, mmh, much Kenyu,” you cry back, biting your lip.

“Wanna show me how much?” he asks before going back into you, passion woven in each stroke of his tongue.

“Yes, yes, yes-” you cry before your climax finally hits you like a wave. Even though you barely recognize the sounds pouring from your lips, you wonder if Yuuki does. All stuttered moans and hushed pants as he guides you through it. His pace starts to slow as you come down from your high, before sealing it with a kiss on your clit.

“Next time you think I don’t love you,” he pauses to meet you face to face before pressing his lips onto yours, “I hope you’ll remember this.”

[uceyliyahh]

SNEAKY LINK

Summary: After having a one night stand with each other Kiyana and Jey decided to become sneaky links until she grew attached to him will he be able to feel the same as her?

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Kiyana

word count: 5063

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @clubsoft

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @tribalhoochie

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @raya-hunter01 @lilucey @soccergirlbae

Ø3

"I just want you to be careful sis, I know he's my best friend but if he hurts you I'll end up hurting him,"

"You know I can take care of you better than that Uso over there,"

"Let's go out for dinner sweetheart,"

"The fuck is yo' problem Kiyana?"

KIYANA Today marks a significant moment for me as I prepare to strut down the runway for the fashion show. To say I'm feeling nervous would be an understatement; it's been quite some time since I last walked a runway—around three years, in fact. The anticipation for tonight is building, and I can't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety.

I had no photoshoots scheduled today because Nathan insisted I concentrate on my runway performance for tonight's fashion show. So, I spent the day at home, enjoying some healthy snacks while watching TV. Suddenly, my phone buzzed, and I picked it up to find a message from Liv.

IMESSAGE 💬 Liv🌸: heyyyy girly tonight is your night girl how are you feeling? Yana💗: I'm feeling pretty nervous for today you know just gives me the jitters Liv🌸: you got this girl, I heard it was going to be a lot of folks there too so you better work girl Yana💗: thanks girly you're so supportive of me Liv🌸: you're my best friend ofc I'm going to support you in the end girl, so what's tea? Yana💗: about? Liv🌸: you and Jey what's happening? Yana💗: nothing really he's been sending me gifts lately and spoiling me like I'm his girl when he's dealing with someone already ain't that weird? Liv🌸: yeah that's weird he should be spoiling Jaida and not you Yana💗: I mean I don't mind it but it's too much honestly you know? Liv🌸: yeah especially yall aren't a couple only sneaky links Yana💗: idk if he's tryna put me in that category of women but it's not happening Liv🌸: I understand so how are you truly feeling about this? Like be honest with me Yana💗: if I'm being honest with you I might have caught feelings for him but it comes and goes especially when I realize that he's dealing with her all those feelings go away Liv🌸: so basically losing and gaining feelings for him again? Yana I don't want this to ruin your mental you're a sweet girl who deserves someone to love on you not just someone who fucks you whenever they please. Yana💗: I hear you bestie but I'm focused on my career that's important to me and whatever he got goin on is none of my business Liv🌸: period I'm glad this whole situation is not tearing you down and I think Cody knows about it... Yana💗: WHAT? Liv🌸: yeah he asked me about today at work I told him I don't what's happening between you and his best friend so he said he'll swing by to see you Yana💗: damn it...I mean he's my brother older brother at that he has every right to know so I'll just talk to him about it. Liv🌸: alrighty girl lmk how it goes and I'll see you tonight! Love you Yana💗: love you too

I was caught off guard by Cody's awareness of the situation. It's likely he saw the pictures of Jey and me shared with my close friends. I should have removed him from that list to prevent this from happening. I set my phone aside and focused on my meal, patiently waiting for Cody to arrive so we could discuss the unfolding drama between Jey and me.

I haven't received any word from him since his visit a few days back, but honestly, I don't mind at all. He's not my partner, and I certainly wasn't his girlfriend—it's as straightforward as that. While enjoying my meal, I heard a knock at the door. Recognizing it was Cody, I paused my show and made my way to the door.

As I swung the door open, I was greeted by the sight of my big brother, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a warm smile on his face. He stepped inside, handing me the flowers with a cheerful demeanor, and I placed them gently on the table.

We settled onto opposite ends of the couch, my legs crossed as I patiently awaited his words.

"Hey, my wonderful sister how are you feeling for today?" Cody asked.

I sighed deeply, "if I'm being honest, I feel nervous for tonight brother," I said.

"You'll do great tonight out there sis even mom will be proud of you when she sees you," I gave him a smile knowing that my brother got my back.

"So what's goin on between you and Jey Yana?" I knew he was going to get straight to it I couldn't lie to my brother that's his best friend of course, "We are just messing around with each other," His facial expressions changed into a confusing one.

"Don't beat around the bush with it sis I understand you're a grown woman,"

I shared with him the story of my night at the club with Jey, revealing how I ended up losing my virginity to him in his hotel room. I also mentioned that Jey and I have developed a secret connection, navigating our relationship as sneaky links.

"Sneaky links?" He asked as I nodded my head.

"Yeah, but we get to live our lives separately and have no strings attached," I said.

"I just want you to be careful sis, I know he's my best friend but if he hurts you I'll end up hurting him," I can understand where my brother was coming from he's been protecting me all of his life since we were kids since we didn't have a father in our lives Cody would do anything for me.

"I understand brother I'm very focused on my career right now and not worried about what he has going on with his shawty," Cody gave me a faint smile knowing that I wasn't letting this get to me especially mentally.

I must admit that I had a bit of a crush on him, but as I explained to Liv, my feelings were quite inconsistent. I realized that he likely didn't share the same feelings, especially considering his current situation with Jaida.

I refused to let myself be foolish over something unattainable and not rightfully mine, so I couldn't understand why he was so worked up about it. Cody lingered a bit longer to fill me in on his journey in wrestling and his rise to becoming a champion, and I couldn't be prouder of him.

I've been caught up in my modeling career lately, which has kept me out of the loop with all the wrestling happenings. Thankfully, my brother has been there to fill me in on everything. After a while, I received a message from Jey himself, but I made him wait while I listened to my brother's updates.

My phone buzzed incessantly with his messages, reminiscent of a needy boyfriend craving attention, prompting me to roll my eyes and silence the notifications.

"Is that Jey texting you?" Cody asked.

"Yeah, but I didn't want to be rude since you were talking to me about what's been happening," I said.

"It's all good little sis, just see what he wants," I pulled out my phone seeing messages from him.

Big Papa😩 sent four messages

Big Papa😩: wya mama? Big Papa😩: I miss you today is your big day Big Papa😩: I'll be there after I deal with things with shawty Big Papa😩: You ignoring me?

IMESSAGE 💬 Yana💗: no I wasn't ignoring you sir I was busy talking to my brother Big Papa😩: Aw Aight I was just making sure Yana💗: even if I was it would be for a good reason but I don't have a good reasoning right now Big Papa😩: mhm wya tho? Yana💗: I'm at home eating something healthy and talking to Cody Big Papa😩: why you didn't tell me Cody was your brother? Yana💗: you never asked? 🤨 Big Papa😩: don't get smart little girl Yana💗: whatever nigga what you want actually? Big Papa😩: I'm tryna see you I know you miss me Yana💗: I miss the thought of you 😭 Big Papa😩: you don't be saying that when I be fucking you screaming daddy this and daddy that Yana💗: 🙄 Big Papa😩: that's what I thought now lemme come see you Yana💗: you gon have to wait until Cody leaves Big Papa😩: that's my dawg he already know what's happening between us Yana💗: I mean I already told him our situation..he's very protective over me so be careful just saying Big Papa😩: why? It's not like I'm hurting you or anything we aren't a couple just giving each other what we need.

Ouch well that makes great sense to me.

Yana💗: yeah, ofc even when I'm not in the mood you got someone to help you out with that 😭😭 Big Papa😩: you been talking reckless what's up with that? Yana💗: no reason Big Papa😩: mhm I'm otw Yana💗: k

 I set my phone aside, rolling my eyes as I noticed the worry etched on Cody's face. "Are you okay, Yana?" he asked, his concern evident. I nodded and offered him a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, it seems like Jey is coming over to see me," I said.

"That's good I could speak to him before approaching you," he said.

I anticipated this situation, but I have no complaints. After all, he's my brother, and it's only natural for him to look out for his little sister.

"You wanna watch this show with me while we wait on him?"

"Yeah, let's go ahead and watch it," Cody said as I unpaused the show.

༊*·˚

JEY Kiyana's behavior has changed noticeably since my visit to her house a few days ago. I couldn't quite grasp the reason behind it; I initially thought she was simply prioritizing her career over the complications with me and Jaida.

I understand that she's likely feeling anxious about her fashion show tonight, so I decided not to press her about her unusual behavior and the reckless things she's been saying to me. As I arrived at her house and noticed Cody's car parked beside hers, I turned off my engine and stepped out, making my way to the front door.

I rapped on the door, anticipating either her or Cody to answer. As I waited, I scrolled through my social media, liking various pictures, particularly those from Jaida's profile. It was during this time that I noticed Kiyana had recently updated her story.

yanasworld posted on their story!

I was really taken aback by that tweet she shared in her story. What on earth was she trying to convey? Is there a deeper reason for her behavior, or is she simply indifferent to the situation?

I couldn't believe my eyes as the door swung open, revealing Cody with a bright smile. It looked like he was about to head out, but then he unexpectedly pulled me aside. What could his intentions be?

"What's up Uce," I said.

Cody stated, "I understand the dynamics between you and my sister, but I need to emphasize something important. Don't allow this situation to jeopardize her career; there will be repercussions. She has an incredibly promising future ahead, and I can't stand by while my best friend puts that at risk."

My face twisted in confusion when he said that. "What do you mean by that? I'm not trying to hurt her; I'm just enjoying myself," I argued.

"It's important to be mindful of her feelings. As her brother, I understand how sensitive she can be, always longing for things she can't have. So, please, do me a favor and tread lightly." I completely get where he's coming from; if I had a sister in Kiyana's position, I would want to protect her just the same.

As he approached his car, we embraced warmly before he climbed inside. I turned and walked into the house, noticing Kiyana was nowhere to be found. After shutting the door behind me, I slipped off my shoes and neatly placed them on the shoe rack. Then, I made my way upstairs to her bedroom.

As I opened the door, I found her nestled in bed, curled up tightly under the blankets, seemingly engrossed in her phone. I slipped into the bed beside her, gently wrapping my arms around her waist, which made her flinch at my unexpected touch.

"Jesus, Jey you can't be sneaking up on folks like that boy," I laughed as she spoke, gently flipping her around so that she could look at me directly.

I found myself captivated by every detail of her face, gently resting my hand on her cheek and stroking it softly with my thumb. Her smile, which I cherished deeply, lit up the moment. Yet, a part of me recognized that this was merely playful banter; after all, I had Jaida waiting for me at home.

I pressed my lips gently against hers, and to my surprise, she leaned in, drawing her body closer to mine. As we began to kiss passionately, I realized this was a new experience for me. I had never been this tender with her before, perhaps influenced by the words Cody shared with me before he departed.

As our mouths intertwined, my tongue danced within hers while her fingers glided through my mullet. I reveled in the sensation of my hands roaming over her body, firmly grasping her curves. It was a passionate struggle, our tongues vying for control in a heated exchange.

I dragged her onto my lap, straddling me, and as she ground against me, I planted nothing but moist kisses on her neck, causing her to moan softly in my ear, which made my dick rise in my perspiration.

As our lips lingered in a passionate embrace, a thought suddenly struck me about something she had shared on her story. I gently pulled away from the kiss, my eyes drawn to her beautiful face.

"What's up with this quote you posted on your story mama? Did I do something?" I asked as she shook her head.

Kiyana reassured him, "It's not your fault; I'm just experiencing these feelings at the moment, that's all." Deep down, she was aware that the quote she had shared was aimed at him, but she felt compelled to conceal the truth.

She nodded with a smile, reassuring him, "I just wanted to ensure everything was fine between us. "Yes, we're good, Jey." Though uncertainty lingered in my mind about her words, I hesitated to press her further.

I felt my dick pop up and strike her in the butt as I began to untie the thread around her sweatpants and take them off of her along with her underwear.

Once more, my hands were stroking her face—she is so gorgeous. I haven't even touched her yet, but I could feel her hot pussy oozing for me. She got up and aligned herself with my dick within her entrance, making us both groan loudly as we felt how warm she was inside.

She was jumping up and down on my dick, hanging onto my chest for support so she wouldn't fall, and her eyes were dark and full of need, just like mine.

"Ouuu, fuck. Daddy...your dick is so prefect for me," Kiyana moaned as I gave her left ass cheek a few slaps.

"Yeah? Keep on bouncing on it you'll get a reward from daddy princess," I responded back to her.

 Following our time together, we nestled closely in her bed, relishing the intimacy of the moment we had just shared. She remained silent, gently toying with my hair, creating a serene atmosphere that spoke volumes without words

I found it concerning that she was so quiet; it suggests that something is troubling her, and she may not be ready to discuss it.

"What's on yo' mind mama? you seem quiet," I asked her as she gazed up at me.

I could hear her take a deep breath before she finally spoke, "Jey, I'm really anxious about tonight. What if I mess up out there or something?" It was surprising to hear her express such nerves, especially since she had been performing for years. Why was she feeling this way? 

"Mama I think you'll do great out there don't doubt yourself for a second aight? You're perfect," Her smile lit up the room, casting a spell that captivated me completely. I gently pressed a tender kiss on her temple, savoring the moment, before leaning in for another kiss on her lips.

It quickly escalated into another passionate moment as she embraced me, her arms around my neck while I held her at the hip. She was simply flawless. Just then, I felt my phone vibrating, interrupting our intimate connection.

"Hey, someone's calling you I'll be back I gotta get ready for tonight," she said as she got up from her bed heading towards the bathroom.

I answered the phone, recognizing Jaida's voice, and immediately knew it was her reaching out to me.

OTP Babygirl💋: hiii daddy wya Jey🖤: I'm over here at a friends house chilling what's up? Babygirl💋: what friend? Is it that girl Kiyana? You fucking her? Jey🖤: nah baby I wouldn't do that to you, she's nothing to me compare to you Babygirl💋: good I can't wait to see you I miss that big dick of yours Jey🖤: I miss you too baby I'll see you after I leave from here aight? Babygirl💋: okay daddy see you Jey🖤: aight then baby

CALL ENDED

I could hear the shower running, which led me to believe she was enjoying a long soak. As I got up from her bed and slipped into the clothes I had worn earlier, the sound of music wafted from the bathroom. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself as I grabbed my keys and made my way downstairs, eager to see Jaida before Kiyana's fashion show tonight.

༊*·˚

OMNISCIENT Kiyana was overwhelmed with thoughts, particularly about the conversation she overheard between Jey and Jaida just before she stepped into the shower. The way Jey was playing with her emotions left her feeling unsettled, especially since she was already grappling with her own inner turmoil regarding her feelings for him.

Kiyana dismissed the thought, determined not to let anything divert her attention tonight. As she sat in the makeup chair, she watched the other women preparing for the show, each one radiating excitement and energy. Yet, amidst the bustling atmosphere, she felt a profound sense of loneliness, longing for Nathan to be there with her in this moment.

She was thrilled to learn that Fka Twigs would be opening the show tonight. The thought of her favorite artist taking the stage brought a smile to her face. It was going to be an exciting night filled with famous faces, including her best friend, her brother, and the Uso's.

She felt an overwhelming weight in her mind and heart, grappling with emotions for a man who was ultimately out of reach. Jey's actions stirred a longing within her that she had secretly desired for so long, and now that it was within her grasp, the realization that she couldn't have it was devastating.

"Ladies! This evening is your chance to showcase your talents and open doors to new opportunities, so let your brilliance shine tonight!" Kevin encouraged us, and we all erupted in cheers of excitement.

The initial group of girls, adorned in their outfits, radiated beauty like diamonds just as the show was about to commence. The enchanting sound of Twig's voice filled the air, creating a magical atmosphere. Suddenly, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, prompting her to turn around.

Nathan and Patrice stood behind her, holding a bouquet of roses and cards, which made her smile as she embraced them warmly.

"Oh my goodness I thought I wasn't going to see you guys tonight!" Kiyana said.

Nathan exclaimed, "Why on earth would we skip your spectacular night strutting down the runway, looking absolutely breathtaking? Kevin even allowed me to choose your outfits for the evening!" She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise.

"Really? You're kidding?" Nathan shook his head he was being serious about it Kiyana placed the bouquet of roses and cards on her table before getting up from the chair that's when Kevin approached them.

"Kiyana, sweetheart, you'll be right behind Jazmine over there. Just keep your confidence high and shine out there!" Kiyana nodded as Nathan approached her, bringing the beautiful angelic wings for her to wear, perfectly fitting the theme for the evening.

She gazed into the mirror, adjusting her voluminous afro and ensuring her makeup was flawless. After sharing a final embrace with Nathan and Patricia, she stepped behind Jazmine, who greeted her with a cheerful wave.

Kiyana silently prayed, wishing to maintain her composure on the runway and to block out the negative energy swirling around her. As the line dwindled, she found herself inching closer to the stage, peering over Jazmine's head. There, she spotted her brother, her mother, Liv, and the Uso's seated together, captivated by Fka Twigs' enchanting performance.

She was taken aback to find Jey there, especially after spending time with Jaida just before he arrived with his brother. She had assumed he would remain with Jaida, but she chose not to let it affect her.

Jazmine followed the other girl as she returned, leaving Kiyana feeling anxious and isolated. Her nerves seemed to slip away as she caught a glimpse of Jey, who was watching her. However, she quickly averted her eyes, choosing instead to focus on the runway ahead. As she walked confidently, she lost herself in the rhythm of the music, holding hands with Fka and strutting her stuff like a true star.

She paused to flaunt her outfit, blowing a kiss to the audience before retreating backstage to change clothes, preparing to make her return.

She swiftly changed her clothes with Nathan and Patrice’s assistance, slipping into a stunning outfit he had chosen for her, adorned in elegant white and gold.

"You look absolutely stunning Yana," Patrice said.

 "I can't express how grateful I am to see all of you here with me; it completely eased my nerves," she exclaimed, wrapping them in a brief hug before returning to her place behind Jazmine, who praised her outfit.

༊*·˚ As the show concluded, Kiyana slipped into her after-party dress, exhaustion washing over her from the night's events. Just then, she heard someone calling her name. Turning around, she was greeted by the sight of her best friend, her brother, their mother, and the Uso's entering the room.

"Oh my god Yana you looked so good tonight you did your thing out there girl!" Liv exclaimed as she hugged Kiyana.

"Thank you I was nervous you guys, yall don't even know," Kiyana said as she smiled at her mother who was giving her a hug along with her brother.

As she completed her task, she noticed Jey approaching with a bouquet of her favorite flowers. How many roses could one person possibly need? With a smile, she accepted the flowers and wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace.

"You looked gorgeous tonight, walking out like that," Jey said placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

Gratefulness filled her voice as she expressed her thanks, "I truly appreciate it." Meanwhile, the group opted to grab some drinks while Kiyana engaged in conversation with her new friends, all the while sensing a pair of eyes intently observing her every action.

She suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder, causing her to pause mid-sentence, thinking it was Jey. However, when she turned around, she was taken aback to find a towering man, standing at 6'3", right behind her.

"May I help you?"

"Yes , you can actually," he said getting her hand while placing a soft kiss on it.

The man exuded an undeniable charm, with his strikingly handsome features complemented by his captivating eyes. Their beauty was almost ethereal, resembling sparkling diamonds that seemed to hold a world of wonder within them.

"I couldn't help but to find you looking absolutely stunning tonight down the runway," Kiyana had smiled at him as the girls left her alone with him.

"Thank you, I don't know how many compliments I can take for tonight it's getting me all worked up," she said.

Jey observed the scene unfold, his heart sinking as he watched her smile at another man. The sight of her giggling and flirting with someone else stirred a wave of jealousy within him. He realized he couldn't just stand by; he needed to take action.

He tuned into their discussion, eager to decipher the subtle hints the guy was dropping about Kiyana. Jey watched as he drew Kiyana in by her waist, leaning into whisper something in her ear that Jey could almost hear.

"You know I can treat you better than that Uso over there," Aaron whispered pointing directly at Jey.

Kiyana arched an eyebrow, scrutinizing the man as she challenged his motives. "Oh? Is that so? What exactly do you mean by that?" she inquired, her tone sharp, while he let out a soft chuckle in response.

"Let me take you out to dinner sweetheart," he said.

Kiyana and Jey locked eyes, and he gestured for her to join him, wanting to have a private conversation away from the crowd. She informed the man that she would return shortly and moved toward Jey, who gently took her arm and led her away.

Cody and Jimmy exchanged knowing glances as they observed the scene unfolding before them, fully aware that a pivotal moment was on the verge of occurring between the two.

In a deserted hallway, Kiyana abruptly pulled her arm from Jey's grasp, casting him a bewildered look that suggested he had lost his mind.

"The fuck is yo' problem Kiyana?" Jey questioned her.

"What do you mean What is my problem? I haven't done anything wrong," she said.

"You know what the hell I'm talking about Kiyana you got this fool all up in yo' face while I'm here," Kiyana couldn't understand the source of his sudden attitude; after all, he had merely invited her to dinner.

Suddenly, it dawned on her—Jey was feeling jealous. Jealous that another man was engaging with her, particularly if it wasn’t him or her brother Cody. She stood there, arms crossed, shooting him a piercing glance. "Jey, you can't be serious right now! I believed we agreed to live our lives independently and be with whoever we choose in this arrangement."

"But you know yo' ass been mine since you walk into the club you've been mine Kiyana now this bitch ass boy wanna be all over you and you entertaining the shit," She couldn't believe what she was hearing right now.

"What I do with someone is not your damn business Jey just like how I don't be saying shit when you're with Jaida I mind my fucking business so you should do the same hell he could probably treat me better than you can," He felt a profound pain within, but he masked it well. Approaching her, he gently encircled her throat with his hand, locking his gaze onto hers.

"Don't fucking play with me Kiyana saying shit like that knowing I'll fuck yo' shit up," Her emotions begin to blossom as she observes his possessive and dominant nature, as he asserts his claim over her despite the absence of an official relationship.

She was grappling with her emotions regarding him, struggling against the inner turmoil of her feelings. Yet, she had to face the reality that he was already in a relationship. So, what could possibly explain his confusing behavior?

"Really? Probably have to remind me then, like I said whoever I'm with is none of your business—" Kiyana experienced the intensity of his lips pressing against hers, the kiss passionate and fervent as he lifted her by the thighs, carrying her toward his car, completely oblivious to the party around them.

By the time they arrived at his car, he had opened the door and pushed Kiyana into the back seat before slamming the door shut behind him as he began removing his shredded pants and underwear, revealing his dick.

"Take these fucking panties off and hold yo' legs, I'm finna remind you that you're mine and only fucking mine," Jey said with aggression in his voice that send shivers down her spine.

He slipped her dress over her stomach and slammed himself inside of her, causing her to wail loudly as he began giving her his harsh strokes with his hand wrapped around her throat.

"J-Jey..W-wait...fuck," Kiyana moaned.

"Ain't no fucking wait to late for that, I gotta put you in yo' place and you better not run from me either you hear me?" He grunted.

When she didn't respond to him she earned a slap on her left ass cheek causing her to whine, "Yess I hear you I hear you fuckk," she threw her head back in pleasure while Jey was beating up her gummy walls.

Kiyana realized at that moment that he was determined to hold on to this situation with unwavering resolve.

Sneaky Link

uceyjucey, americannightmarecody, aaron_pierre1, and others liked your post.

yanasworld: After Party 😘 uceyjucey: remember you mines mama 🤫 yanasworld: @ uceyjucey I know I'm yours 🖤 americannightmarecody: @ uceyjucey y'all two good? uceyjucey: @ americannightmarecody yeah we good uce aaron_pierre1: damn you're so gorgeous baby 🙂‍↕️ yanasworld: @ aaron_peirre1  thank you 💗 jonathanfatu: you did great out there Kiyana ❤️ yaonlylivonce: period my best friend ate yall up i loved the fashion show bestie 🥹 yanasworld: @ yaonlylivonce thank you bestie 💗 biancabelairwwe: i saw a clip of you and girrrl you looked gorgeous honey trinity_fatu: looking stunning as ever

Read all Comments.

uceyjucey posted on his close friends!

jonathanfatu replied to your close friends: Uce what I say dawg be careful dawg Kiyana does not like to be in drama biancabelairwwe replied to your close friends: Ooop 👀👀 I'm sensing drama??? trinity_fatu replied to your close friends: Jey? What's goin on with you and Kiyana? yaonlylivonce replied to your close friends: sir??? americannightmarecody replied to your close friends; remember what I told you earlier today about my sister romanreigns replied to your close friends: what's happening rn? u ain't fucking with Jaida anymore?

A/n: that dinner is still on the table will Kiyana go to the dinner with Aaron or will her feelings betray her because of Jey? Finna get messy I'll tell you that.

Hope yall enjoy this chapter Lmk in the comments below

STAY UCEY

2.

[bellaxgiornata]

Want to Know You Better 1:|Bad Impressions

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; investigative journalist!Reader, bodyguard!Jax, enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, canon divergence, eventual smut, slow burn, angst

summary: For over a year you had been tracking Aleksander Petrova through California–a Russian crime lord known to abduct sex workers for his trafficking ring. Seven months ago, he disappeared from the L.A. area, but a series of missing women in Northern California catches your attention, drawing you to Charming in the hopes of linking enough evidence together to once again get the FBI involved. But when the Sons’ President makes a terrible first impression before inserting himself into your work, your investigation turns into more than you anticipated.

a/n: I couldn't resist an enemies to lovers fic with Jax also determined to stubbornly be Readers' self-appointed bodyguard. I'm very much in the Jax mindset lately... Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

tag list: @kmc1989

“Well, it has been a bit, man,” Happy agreed with Opie.

Jax took a pull off of his beer as the table of Sons around him broke into a fit of laughter at his expense. The thunderous noise of their amusement drowned out the classic rock playing in the bar they’d settled at tonight. For once they found themselves drinking somewhere other than at the clubhouse. Tonight, they were at The Alley, a dive bar in downtown Charming. Having just finished a meeting here with Marks, they had all collectively decided to stay and enjoy a few more rounds before heading back.

Jax rolled his eyes at the Sons’ teasing, not exactly taking their bullshit personally. They’d had a rough past few weeks and were just trying to unwind for the night. He knew that.

“Got nothin’ to say in your defense, Jackie boy?” Chibs asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Ya suddenly gone celibate?”

Swallowing down his beer, Jax shrugged as he lowered the bottle back to the table. A smug grin drew itself over his lips before he answered. “What can I say? I’ve just been busy,” he told the guys. “Pussy hasn’t exactly been top priority on my mind lately.”

A round of disbelief flew from around the table next, the noise only causing Jax’s grin to grow wider. It was true, though. He really hadn’t been concerning himself with getting laid over the past few weeks, too focused and stressed over club business to have even thought about it. He honestly had been so caught up in everything that he hadn’t even realized how long it had been since he’d last taken a girl to his bed.

“Maybe you’re losing your touch,” Bobby joked.

“Or you’re just going soft on us, Pres,” Tig quipped. 

One of Jax’s brows arched up onto his forehead at that comment. Going soft? Now that was absolute bullshit. 

“Don’t be a jackass,” Jax replied. “I’m not losing nothing, and I sure as shit have not gone soft, Tig.”

A glint of mischief surfaced in Tig’s eyes at Jax’s response. He leaned forward, resting his elbows along the table as a teasing grin slipped onto his face. “Oh no?” he questioned. “You haven’t? You…willing to make a bet on that, Jax?”

Jax settled back in his chair, his hands folding in front of himself as he studied the man. The entire table of Sons had fallen silent at Tig’s question, intrigue hanging thick between them all. Jax never backed down from a challenge, they all knew that. 

“Yeah,” Jax answered easily. “I am. What do you have in mind, Tig?”

“Oh, shit,” Opie muttered with a chuckle, running a hand through his beard.

“Now this is getting good,” Chibs added, gesturing his beer at Tig. “Let’s hear it, brother.”

Tig straightened in his chair, his focus remaining fixed on Jax across the table from him. That mischievous glint in his eye hadn’t yet faded.

“Alright then, Jax. You wanna prove you haven’t gone soft on us? I bet you to get a girl from this bar onto the back of your bike and show her a good time in your bed before we’re finished here tonight,” Tig challenged. “And I’m clarifying that it’s gotta be a broad of our choosing, not yours. No easy pickings.”

A chorus of ‘ooh’ and ‘oh shit’ was muttered around the table as all of the Sons’ eyes darted between Jax and Tig as the bet was laid out. Jax didn’t look remotely fazed by it, though. Instead, he easily drew his beer up to his lips, finishing the last of it before he set the bottle back down on the table.

“You’re on,” Jax replied, a confident grin tugging at his lips. “I guarantee I can get any girl in here on my bike in fifteen minutes or less easily.” He jutted his chin at Tig before he continued, that cocky tone of his growing. “What do I get when I win?”

Tig took a moment, as if he was thinking about the answer, mulling it over for a minute. “Give you three hundred bucks,” he finally answered. “Plus, you get laid. But–” he held up a finger, that glint in his eyes still lingering, “–if you lose, we collectively get to think of some form of embarrassing punishment for you.”

That gave Jax pause for a moment, one hand running through the scruff along his chin. Not that he remotely doubted his ability to get a girl in his bed by any means, but the possibility that they might pick some chick that he somehow would not be able to charm didn’t sit well with him. Because he could only imagine what embarrassing ‘punishment’ the guys would love to force on him.

“You’re hesitating, Jax,” Bobby pointed out.

With a roll of his eyes, Jax sat forward in his chair. “Of course I’m in,” he accepted without another thought, the confidence returning. “This is going to be stupid easy anyway.”

“Aye, well,” Chibs said, shaking his head at his President. “Don’t forget, Jackie, the girls here are normal broads. Not the kind at the clubhouse. Or Diosa or the porn studio.”

Opie shook with silent laughter on the other side of Jax, one of his hands reaching out to lightly nudge his best friend. “That’s right,” he agreed. “These girls aren’t pre-warmed and ready for your advances, brother.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Jax replied, waving the comment off. “Who the hell would say no to some time with this face?”

Another round of raucous laughter erupted from the table and Jax grinned wider at the sound. He had no doubt that he’d find a way to charm any woman the guys ultimately picked. Didn’t matter if she wasn’t a croweater, he’d find a way. He knew he was attractive and he had the confidence to go with it. He’d make it happen. There was no way in hell he’d lose the bet.

“Great,” Tig said, clapping his hands together before he turned away from the table. “Now to find a suspect.”

For a few minutes, Jax sat at the table as the Sons all began surveying the bar in search of a target for this bet. He listened as the men pointed out a few different options, hearing comments like ‘no, looks too willing’ or ‘doesn’t look remotely challenging enough’. He chuckled to himself, watching as all of his men kept talking amongst themselves until Tig eventually caught everyone’s attention.

“That one!” he exclaimed, gesturing a finger across the bar. “The one at the end of the bar there. Hunched over her phone. Didn’t even notice her at first.”

Jax shifted in his seat, trying to get a look at where all of the men were now focused. In the far corner of the room, almost too easy to miss, was indeed a woman hunched over her phone. She looked like she was concentrating on something, and judging by the way she was dressed, she wasn’t trying to capture the attention of anyone in the bar tonight. Jax was immediately thankful that he didn’t find her unattractive, either. If anything, he found himself pleased this was the woman they’d picked for the bet. He wouldn't mind her in his bed for a couple of hours tonight.

“She looks more like she’d slap Jax for approaching rather than sleep with him,” Bobby said with a laugh. 

Tig shot a look over his shoulder at Bobby, a wicked grin on his face as he nodded his head in agreement. “I know, right? She’s perfect.”

“If anything,” Jax cut in, glancing back over at the woman, “she looks like she’d be thanking me for giving her a little stress relief. She looks a little too tightly wound.”

The table of Sons all returned their attention to Jax now, curious expressions adorning their faces. They were waiting to see if he would keep his word now that a woman had been chosen for the bet.

“Still think you got it in you to charm a girl like that?” Opie asked.

“Yeah, Jax,” Tig goaded. “You gonna call off the bet or what?”

“Fuck off,” Jax said as he rose from his chair, lightly slapping a hand onto the table. “No goddamn way I'm turning the bet down–or losing it. Let me show you boys how it’s done. I’ll have her on my bike and screaming my name in no time.”

Another round of laughter came from around the table, a few of the men wishing Jax good luck. Opie gave him a pat on the back as Jax walked away from the group, his gaze fixed on the unsuspecting woman at the far end of the bar.

This was going to be fun.

The dive bar you’d found yourself in for the evening smelled like mold and sweat–not unlike the shitty motel room you’d checked yourself into earlier today. And yet somehow it had still been rated the best of all the shitty motels in Charming. 

Today had been long. You'd had a bit of a drive out to the small town of Charming from Red Ridge this morning–the city in which you lived just a little outside of San Francisco where your prestigious paper, the San Francisco Sun Times, was located. After briefly unpacking a few of your things in the motel you’d unfortunately have to call home for a bit, you'd hit the road again and began your investigation around the surrounding area.

Aleksander Petrova was your great white whale. You’d been chasing him for well over a year now, and you’d almost led the FBI straight to him seven months ago, but some sort of information leak had given the bastard a chance to disappear into thin air before they’d had an opportunity for an arrest. He’d been right there operating just outside of Los Angeles for months and you’d been linking missing woman after missing woman together, discovering a pattern in which he’d targeted female sex workers specifically. Whether his men abducted them from the street, underground brothels, or strip clubs, you’d grown familiar with how he targeted them. But then his ass had disappeared into the wind. 

Until recently.

Which was why you’d landed yourself in Northern California now. You had caught the familiar pattern in the unreported missing women cases in the area that had been occurring for the past few months. You were positive it was Petrova. But due to his reach and wealth, and the fact that most of society didn’t bat an eye at a missing prostitute, no one had looked into the cases. It didn’t help that Petrova had plenty of law enforcement in his back pocket, making it easy for officers to turn a blind eye to what was actually going on throughout the state.

But not you.  

Huddled over the counter of the bar in the dim lighting, you were focused on typing up an email to your editor on your phone. Gary had technically wanted you to check in with him once you’d gotten settled in Charming earlier this morning, but having been unable to resist getting started on your investigation after finally catching a lead, you admittedly had forgotten all about shooting him an email. You hoped the added bit of information about what you’d started working on today would ease the angry scolding you were sure to receive later.

As you typed, absently sipping on the piss beer you'd ordered a while ago–the one that was only half-finished and growing warm–you eventually felt a presence sidle up near you at the bar. Still focused on your work email, you paid the person no mind as your fingers swiftly flew over the keyboard of your phone. But when you noticed them lean against the counter near you from your peripheral, you had a feeling your quiet evening trying to unwind and focus your thoughts was about to be interrupted.

“Hey there, darlin’,” a deep, smooth voice came from beside you. “You're not from around here, are you?”

Without even glancing up, fingers still flying across the keys of your phone, you tensed at the man's clearly obvious intent. You had important work to focus on, you weren't interested in getting hit on by some random guy in a small town.

“No thank you,” you simply replied, not bothering to look at him. 

An amused chuckle met your response, the sound only further irritating you. So this guy wasn't going to give up easily. Fantastic.

“Maybe you should put the phone down, sweetheart,” the voice tried again. “You're missing out on what's going on around you. Like me flirting with you.”

Fingers pausing their typing, you resisted the urge to throw your phone at him. “I wouldn't say I'm ‘missing’ it, exactly,” you said, annoyance levels rising. “It's actually interrupting my work.”

“You're working right now?” the voice asked incredulously. “Darlin’, no. Put the phone away, you're sitting at a bar. Why the hell are you working?”

“Look, if you’re looking for an easy lay tonight, it’s not me,” you stated bluntly, skimming through the finished email on your phone. “I’ll save you the time right now: I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”

Another amused chuckle rumbled from the man beside you before you caught him sliding a little bit closer down the length of the counter towards you. Pressing the send button on your phone a bit more roughly than necessary, you couldn’t believe the audacity of this asshole. Was he really going to be that persistent?

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to talk to you,” he replied, entirely unfazed by your rejection. “No need to go getting ahead of ourselves quite yet.”

With a frustrated huff, you turned off the screen on your phone and finally looked over at the man beside you, an irritated glare already on your face. But the irritation immediately fell from it when you realized you recognized this man. An annoying smirk quickly overtook his features as he caught the shift in your own expression, but you didn’t even give that arrogant look on his face another thought before your eyes dropped down to the leather kutte he was wearing, your eyes landing on the President patch. After a brief pause, your gaze slid back up to meet his. The smirk on his face only grew a bit wider as he continued to lean against the bar counter in front of you.

“Change your mind now, darlin’?” he asked.

Ignoring the smirk that seemed to be permanently present and the cocky confidence he exuded, your eyes narrowed slightly back at him. You’d done your research before coming out to Charming. You knew exactly who he was, and he was someone you’d been hoping to get an audience with while you were here. Especially because you were partly here because of him. What were the odds he’d just walk right up to you in a piece of shit dive bar?

“Jax Teller, right?” you questioned back.

That caught him off guard. He visibly recoiled, his eyes widening a bit as you called him by his name. A name he hadn’t given you yet. It took him a moment to recover, his demeanor shifting to something cautious and suspicious almost instantly. 

“Yeah, and who the hell are you, sweetheart?” he asked, tone a bit sharper now.

Turning in your chair, you stuck your hand into your purse which hung over the back of it before pulling out a business card. He gave you a strange look as you slid it towards him on the counter, clearly not anticipating the flirtatious conversation to go the way it currently was. 

“I’m an investigative journalist,” you informed him. “For the San Francisco Sun Times. I’m out here working a story on missing sex workers.”

Jax’s eyes rose back to you over the top of the business card he was holding in his hand. He looked confused as he studied you in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?” he finally asked.

With a roll of your eyes you briefly explained yourself. “I’m investigating the disappearances of missing women–specifically sex workers–in Northern Cali. I believe they’re linked to Aleksander Petrova. You know, the big Russian crime lord?”

Jax pulled a face, his expression morphing briefly into one of horrified disbelief as he set your card back on the bar counter. “Yeah, darlin’. I damn well know who he is,” he told you. “What the hell are you doing looking into a man like that?”

An annoyed huff fell out of you in response. “I just told you,” you replied.

“No, I heard what you said,” he continued, shaking his head at you. “But, sweetheart, you’re a journalist. The hell are you gonna do going up against a man like Petrova?”

Turning further towards him in your chair, you let out a frustrated sigh. You’d been doing this for a long time now, you weren’t remotely incompetent. And you certainly didn’t appreciate being treated as such.

“I’m not going up against him, Mr. Teller,” you began, noticing the way his lips twitched when you’d referred to him so formally. “I’m investigating the missing women. Petrova has a pattern and I’ve been following him for over a year now. I’m trying to find evidence to link the missing women to him so I can give the FBI the information and they can take him down.”

His eyes narrowed back at you, an unreadable expression crossing his features as he listened to what you were saying. He looked completely different now than the arrogant flirt he had been just a few minutes ago.

“Helping those women and stopping that piece of shit is my main priority,” you finished. “The pay from publishing the story just keeps me doing what I do to help others.”

“You realize how unsafe and stupid that is, right?” he shot back. “You’re gonna get yourself killed. Or taken for his trafficking ring yourself. You’re just one goddamn woman going up against a Russian mobster with far more wealth and power than you have. You don’t stand a chance.”

“I didn’t ask for your vote of confidence,” you bitterly pointed out.

He paused for a moment, irritation briefly washing across his features. You figured he wasn’t used to being spoken to like this very often. Particularly by women, if your research into his club had taught you anything.

“Why’re you telling me all of this?” he asked curiously. “Why are you here in Charming?”

“Because, Mr. Teller,” you began, enjoying the flash of annoyance on his face at your continued formality, “I have a reasonable suspicion that your club’s businesses might be affected by all of this.”

His eyes immediately hardened at that, a dangerous glint in them. But before he got a word out, a loud commotion broke out over the noise of the bar. Both of you glanced over at the increasing ruckus across the room. You spotted a table filled with Sons all currently banging their hands against the surface and shouting at Jax. 

“We believe in ya, Jackie!”

“Come on, brother! Seal the deal!”

“What's taking you so goddamn long, man!”

You frowned as the group of men fell into loud laughter, your attention slowly returning to the man in front of you. It was obvious they were shouting at him in relation to him having come over to flirt with you, but they seemed far too invested for their behavior to be normal. Jax's expression didn't give you much to go by as he only appeared to grow further irritated at their interruption before he turned back around and focused on you.

“What businesses are you talking about, darlin’?” he asked.

Resting an arm along the sticky bar counter, you kept your attention solely on him despite the continued noise from across the room. This conversation was far more important than whatever bullshit these men were shouting about. You might never have the opportunity of discussing anything about this investigation with Jax again after tonight, you couldn't waste the opportunity that had fallen into your lap.

“Redwoody and Diosa,” you answered him. “And the Diosa expansion I know you’re working on.”

Jax tensed at your response, his eyes narrowing further as he grew even more uncomfortable now. “How do you know about those?” he asked. “And why do they have anything to do with this?”

“I'm good at my job, Mr. Teller,” you answered. “And I told you, Petrova targets sex workers. And you and your club happen to have rounded quite a few up for your porn business and the poorly disguised brothels.” At the look that flashed across his face, you abruptly held up a hand and continued. “Relax, I'm not here to out you on those. I've known about them for a while now. If I wanted them shut down, they'd have been raided already. That's not what I'm after.”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?” he snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Sweetheart, you’ve got a lot of knowledge that you shouldn’t have. I’m not likin’ that.”

Tapping your nails against the bar, you could see the tension increasing in him. He’d obviously expected to come over here and flirt, probably thinking he’d take you somewhere for a fuck. Now he looked stiff and pissed off. 

“Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to tell you this to your face if I planned to shut your shit down?” you asked him. “Because that’d be pretty fucking stupid.” Sighing, your nails stopped tapping along the counter as you tried to be straight with him. “Look, I’m investigating these missing women either way. While I do, I’m hoping to keep your girls safe. All I’d like is a little cooperation to do so.”

“Cooperation?” he asked skeptically.

You shrugged easily. “Yeah. Like a head’s up if something weird is going on,” you explained. “If someone’s eyeing your businesses. Following any of your girls home. Anyone actually ends up missing.”

“Darlin’, I think I’m better equipped to take care of our girls more than you are,” he argued, that arrogant smirk gradually returning. “And I don’t need some fed wannabe dragging the real feds to my town.”

“Well,” you said, pushing your chair out and rising to your feet, “I’ll still be around. In case you care to change your mind and help those missing women.”

Pocketing your phone into your jean’s pocket, you figured it was about time you made it back to your motel for the night. You had a long day ahead of you tomorrow and you wanted to finalize a few more notes on your laptop before bed. Grabbing your purse and slipping the strap over your head, you paused when Jax’s voice suddenly broke through your thoughts.

“Whoa, wait, you’re just leaving then?” he asked. “You drop a bomb like that and then you’re just gonna disappear? You didn’t even finish your beer.”

Glancing over at the half-finished, disappointing drink, you made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. “It was shitty beer, anyway.” 

You managed to take one step before Jax was speaking again. In the distance, you heard a bit of commotion steadily growing from the table of Sons once more.

“Come on,” Jax tried again. “Just let me buy you a drink. Something a little less shitty. We can talk about something…less depressing.”

Eyes running over the length of him just once, you already knew what he was after. And the answer was still no. You were here to finish this story and get Petrova thrown in prison. Fucking some random outlaw–no matter how attractive–wasn’t a priority. Especially one who, in your research, apparently had a history of fucking just about anything. You avoided guys like that.

“No, I’m good,” you answered. “Have a nice night, Mr. Teller.”

Taking just a few steps towards the bar’s exit, you heard the commotion from the table of Sons suddenly explode throughout the bar. The noise caused you to halt in your tracks, your head darting over towards the table as your brows knitted together in curiosity. 

“Aw, Jackie!” one of the men shouted. “Ya lost the bet!”

“You’re losing your touch, brother!”

“Shot down! No action for you!”

It took a moment, but the second your ears registered the words ‘bet,’ you steadily began piecing things together. He hadn’t come over to initially speak with you because he’d actually been interested, it’s because they’d all made you into a damn bet. A fucking joke for their entertainment. Probably something along the lines of him getting you into his bed. A look of disgust passed over your features as your gaze shifted to Jax still standing beside the bar. He at least had the audacity to look moderately apologetic before he turned his attention towards the guys, shouting loudly across the room to be heard.

“Knock it the fuck off, assholes!”

Shaking your head at him, you could feel the disgust and embarrassment steadily filling you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t worked with countless individuals in the seedy underworld, because you most certainly had. Your ability to humanize them to the outside world in your pieces was something you’d been praised for repeatedly. But never in your years of journalism had you been subjected to something so humiliating. 

“You just saved me three hundred bucks, sweetheart!” one man shouted over to you.

A chorus of laughter erupted once more from the table as you made your way to the exit without a backwards glance at Jax. Instead, you shot the men at the table a dark glare, raising a hand high in the air and flipping the whole table off before pushing the door open and making your way outside. 

Working with the Sons on this story, if you managed it, was going to be a pain in your ass.

[soullessjack]

another thing that really sucks about how the show went with jacks arc is like..he honestly did not have that good of a support system lmfao

yes the guys tried their best with very little to go off of in a LOT of areas yes I do have numerous posts and tags detailing how dean showed support but just LISTEN

the thing with characters that fall under specific archetypes (living weapon/monster-that-doesn’t-want-to-be-a-monster here) is that they usually have someone, or several other people in their life that. well. Support Them. like. shadow had maria to tell him that he could be whoever he wanted to be. the iron giant had Hogarth to say he is who he chooses to be. you get the idea. and yea, sam and dean and cas did eventually get to that point with jack — like dean even said in 13.06 that if jack is a monster for a single innocent death, so are he and the other guys for every death on their hands.

that’s fine and dandy and i wish more ppl acknowledged it but whatever but there’s also the faith part of it. Hogarth had enough faith that the giant would choose to be good and be his friend that he risked the other choice that would cost him his life. Maria (in the gens game) had faith that shadow wasn’t like black doom and wouldn’t join him. as much as tfw loved jack and genuinely saw him as their kid (which frankly makes it even more painful), when the chips were really really down they just. they didn’t fight hard enough for him honestly. i think even sam said that to dean in 14.19 or 15.03 (or whichever ep had the vampire kid) and he’s right.

bobby didn’t even consider the possibility of mary’s death being an accident. he gunned for jack like he was waiting for it to happen — waiting for the evil shoe to inevitably drop. i know cas tried to defend it, but “he may not have even realized what he did was wrong” is so flimsy I’m sorry cas it just doesn’t cut it (and it was very very wrong in the end anyways). sam and dean are still reeling from mary’s loss and don’t even know what to think, much less what to argue for or against. and I feel like.. how they really really felt, it was just littered in some dialogue here and there. Cas saying he knew something was wrong with jack and hiding it so their family didn’t fall apart, Sam saying they all knew [taking in] jack was a risk and yada yada. their general consensus was basically “yea we loved him but we always knew he might secretly have evil rabies and now that he’s evil it’s our fault for loving him so much we pretended he didn’t have evil rabies.”

and listen. i get why it went this way. i’m probably the biggest fan of Beloved Monumental Threat jack and functionally-dysfunctional TFW2.0 but like. it still hurts. and it hurts even more so when you pair it with jack’s psychotic subconscious hallucination telling him things like “stop pretending to be something you’re not, stop trying to go back where you don’t belong and you’ll feel so much better about it all.” literally looking nauseous for four days straight because he lost everything he ever had overnight and knows everybody thinks he’s Too Far Gone But He Really Isn’t So Please Let Him Come Back. eating a cactus would be significantly less painful and harrowing.

don’t make me tap the sign 👉 [JACK SUBCONSCIOUSLY THOUGHT OF HIMSELF AS THE PET MONSTER OF HIS SURROGATE FAMILY. PET MONSTER. ARE YOU HEARING ME. OEF MKNYDR]€.

im reaching incoherency here but what sucks even more than all of that is that there’s no payoff to it. never any apologies from the guys or Bobby or resolution on jacks end. They just keep putting him in saw traps and then wondering “maybe he shouldn’t have been put in there” and once he’s freed from the saw trap nobody says “sorry we put you in a saw trap buddy you never deserved it and we were wrong to put you in it” and it is so so maddening

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Sweet Lullaby - B.SK

🎤 Who: Boo Seungkwan (Seventeen) x reader 🎤 What: Fluff. Fantasy au. Supernatural au. Established relationship. Siren Seungkwan. 🎤 Word count: 3.1k 🎤 Warnings: Some profanity but I think that’s all. 🎤 Summary: “ If there’s one thing you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he loves to sing.

If there’s another thing that you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he’s not allowed to sing.

And if there’s one thing you know about yourself, it’s that you’d move the Earth itself to make Boo Seungkwan happy.”

Masterlist

A/N- thank you @lovetaroandtaemin for the idea to write siren Seungkwan at karaoke! It’s a lot different than I initially intended or imagined (and longer) but I still loved writing it!

If there’s one thing you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he loves to sing.

If there’s another thing that you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he’s not allowed to sing.

It breaks your heart every time you watch Seungkwan tag along to karaoke nights only to sit at the side lines nursing the same drink all night to remain in control, while his sad eyes stare longingly at the microphones passed between friends. You’ve asked him before why he even attends when he knows it’ll make him sad, and he always just says he’d rather be there and sad than miss out on spending time with his friends.

If there’s a third thing you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he has the biggest heart of anyone you have ever met. You would know more than anyone; he opened it to you years ago and has allowed to live comfortably within his heart ever since.

Which really does mean that you know better than anyone how much it hurts Seungkwan to not be able to sing anywhere except in his private soundproofed office in your shared apartment that he doesn’t even let you in while he’s inside in fear of accidentally hurting you.

Sometimes, it’s really tough being in love with a siren who always puts others first. But you’d never change a thing about your Boo Seungkwan.

In fact, you embrace everything about the man as best as you can, even if it means months of saving and research to afford to take you both on a surprise trip across the country to a very specific and well-hidden secret. It had taken a lot of digging and greasing the right palms to get the information you need.

But the way Seungkwan lights up as soon as you two step into the unassuming building and he sees the sign above the reception desk makes it all worth it.

“A karaoke bar for sirens?!” He shrieks, turning to look at you with nothing but pure joy in his eyes and stretching his beautiful smile wide. “How’d you find this place?!”

“A lot of late nights digging and making calls,” you answer honestly.

“This is why you’ve been so tired lately?” His expression lowers: he looks a little concerned and guilty but mostly so, so touched that you sacrificed your precious rest for his sake. “Baby,” he breathes out and steps closer to tenderly take your face into his hands and lock his adoring gaze with yours. “I love you, so much.”

“Mm, I know,” you reply cheekily, earning a soft huff of a chuckle. “How about you serenade me for the first time, hm?”

Seungkwan’s smile slowly slips away and his hands slide down until he’s holding your hands. “You know I can’t do that. I’d love to sing for you, but it’s too dangerous. I really could warp your mind if I’m not careful baby, and I’ve never had the chance to sing around non-sirens, so I don’t know how to be careful. You’re the last person I’d ever want to risk. How am I supposed to marry you one day if I turn your brain to mush, huh?” He jokes, nudging you a little to try and lift the mood back up.

“Just make me look pretty and wheel me down the aisle in a wheelbarrow.”

“You’re always pretty. But I’m not marrying you in a wheelbarrow.”

“Fine. A throne on wheels.”

Seungkwan laughs. “How did you go from one extreme to the other? From wheelbarrow to throne.” He chuckles then leans forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Is this really okay, for me to sing here?”

“Mm, it’s soundproofed to hell and back; nobody outside of the room will hear you so long as the door is closed.”

“Ah,” he smiles a little then looks over to the staff at the reception desk then back at you, glad the staff isn’t paying you two any attention even if you’re the only ones in the lobby. “I really appreciate this baby, a lot, seriously. But…well, I can sing on my own at home, at least I won’t be abandoning you there like I will here. Let’s just go find something else to do, okay?”

“No way,” you scoff and grab his hand to drag him over to the reception desk.

The staff looks up with a welcoming smile. “I was wondering when you’d arrive!” He beams at you, making Seungkwan look between you utterly lost. “Hi, Seungkwan, I’m Junhui, one of the owners of Sweet Lullaby!”

“I still can’t get over you calling your siren focused karaoke bar Sweet Lullaby,” you comment.

“It’s funny,” Junhui retorts. “You just have no sense of humour,” when he tacks your name on the end as if you’re old friends, Seungkwan’s confusion grows to utter bewilderment.

“Hold on, why are you two so comfortable?” He asks, pointing between you and Junhui with one hand, the other still clasped in yours with your fingers naturally laced together.

“We’re besties,” you and Junhui reply in sync, thoroughly visibly freaking out your boyfriend which makes yourself and Junhui crack up laughing.

“We’ve talked a lot the past couple weeks to set this up,” you explain with an amused grin. “And he has no filter, so we quickly got to know each other and became friends.”

“The others are very excited to have new friends to sing with!” Junhui chirps, then looks over as the side door to the rest of the building opens. “Channie, look, it’s Seungkwan!”

“Oh!” The newcomer grins and bounds over to greet you by name with a hug that Seungkwan baulks at, making you snicker. “And our newest siren!” Chan turns to beam at Seungkwan. “I’m Chan, the others are all waiting for you, come on!”

“Wait!” Seungkwan exclaims just as Chan swipes his staff ID badge at the scanner to unlock the door again. He turns to look at Seungkwan with a little pout. “What the fuck is going on exactly?”

“We’re going to go sing with the others,” Chan informs, pointing over his shoulder down the corridor behind him.

“I’m not singing with you!” Seungkwan sputters, motioning to Chan. “You’re not a siren!”

“Yeah, and?” Chan looks so confused. “It’s perfectly safe, we do it all the time, right, Jun?”

“Yep!” Junhui confirms from behind the desk where he’s clicking around on his computer to remotely lock the front door knowing that there are no customers coming in for a while.

“Kwan,” you start softly while gently turning Seungkwan to look at you. The poor guy looks almost painfully lost. “This is a very unique karaoke bar, not just because it caters to sirens but because it has developed a system to allow sirens to sing with non-sirens too.”

“Wh-what? How?”

“One of the other owners is some kind of genius and his best friend is a siren who has the most incredible voice, seriously,” Chan enthuses with honest eyes. “And the owner, Mingyu, had the same issue your partner does in that someone so precious to him couldn’t do the thing he loves most. So Mingyu developed a material that somehow like blocks the lure in a siren’s song, which means now so long as he’s wearing ear plugs, Seokmin can sing around him and cause no issue.”

“Fuck off,” Seungkwan scoffs. “That’s impossible. I would’ve heard of that by now; that’d be huge.”

“He’s only recently got the right balance of ingredients. It’s taken him years to get to this point and it’s been kept secret, so nobody tries to steal his work or pressure him. Someone could make a fortune if they got their hands on the formula, so we’ve kept it very secret.”

“Then why are you telling us, complete strangers about it?” Seungkwan motions between you and him puzzled.

“You’re not strangers, you’re part of our group!” Chan replies with a grin. “Come on, come meet the others and you can see the earplugs in action for the first time! It’s incredible, seriously.”

Chan blabbers away excitedly as you urge Seungkwan to follow him with yourself right behind and Junhui skipping along behind you a little, after double checking the front doors are securely locked.

The room Chan enters is bigger than any karaoke room you’ve been in before, but you expected it, having been given a video tour by Junhui already. Seungkwan, however, gawps at the size of the room and the glass walled booth to one side big enough to fit a large sofa and table within, plus more space to move comfortably around. There’s already a man lounging across the sofa looking to be asleep and another tall one standing by the computer in the corner facing the main room. He smiles and waves at you, which you return, easily recognising the genius owner of Sweet Lullaby.

“What’s that for?” Seungkwan asks, pointing to the room.

“That is where us non-sirens go while all the settings are calibrated, and the earplugs tested against your voice. Really it should be fine because Seokmin’s loudmouth is fine and nobody has reached his level yet so unless you’re like a super siren or something, it’ll be fine, and we can come back in and all sing together and have a great time!” Chan and Junhui cheer a little before Chan grabs your hand and leads you to the room.

Inside the glass booth, you can’t hear anything from the main room, but you don’t need to hear your boyfriend’s voice to know he’s rambling worriedly to Junhui and the other sirens in the room.

“It’s good to finally meet you in person,” Mingyu greets as you stand curiously at his side to watch him click and tap away on the keyboard and mouse.

There’s a grunt behind you at the sofa and you look over to see that Chan has seated on the no longer sleeping man’s stomach. You don’t know who he is, but you don’t mind his presence at all.

“You too,” you reply to Mingyu a beat too late due to your distraction, but he doesn’t mind and just smiles.

He picks up a little microphone from beside the computer to talk into and tell Seungcheol to put the ear plugs in.

You’ve never talked to Seungcheol before, but you know he’s a werewolf and the one they always make test the ear plugs as he has the fastest recovery rate due to his supernatural healing abilities. Even if he’s also naturally the strongest so it’s a risk from him to potentially get his mind warped; if he loses control and lashes out it’d take all of the sirens present to subdue him.

It shows a lot of faith in both Mingyu’s intelligence and skill and Seungcheol’s self-control to do this without extra measures in place.

You watch as Seungcheol puts the little, pale green plugs into his ears securely and sit on the stool that Wonwoo, the business brain behind Sweet Lullaby, places down in the centre of the room. When Wonwoo gives a thumbs up to Mingyu, Mingyu clicks around a few more times, then announces through the mic that it’s ready.

When Seokmin opens his mouth, one hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder, you can’t hear the voice that escapes his mouth, but the awe on your boyfriend’s face is more than enough to tell you that Chan hadn’t been exaggerating the siren’s awe-inspiring voice. Seungkwan repeatedly looks at Seungcheol, who is smiling a little at Seokmin and bobbing to the music you can’t hear, but he doesn’t seem at all lured in any way.

When it seems to really hit Seungkwan that this is real and has opened a whole new door from him, he looks at you with eyes a little misty with overwhelm. He taps his ear and points to you to ask if you can hear. You shake your head slightly and give him an encouraging smile.

A few seconds later of silently holding eye contact with you, Seungkwan’s mouth opens, and he starts to sing alone with Seokmin, barely opening his mouth at first and still very cautious, yet when Seokmin excitedly starts to shake him and the other sirens cheer him on, Seungkwan beams and stops holding back.

“Wow,” Mingyu mutters as he stares at the screen.

A moment later, Chan and the unnamed man are both on Mingyu’s right and peering at the screen. “What is it?” The man asks.

“You should know, you helped develop the system, Vernon,” Chan scoffs, nudging the man, who nudges him in return.

“Seungkwan’s voice is almost on par with Seokmin’s,” Mingyu informs.

“Really?” Chan gasps, looking through the window at the happily singing pair awed. “I can’t wait to hear it!”

“Is it safe?” Vernon double checks.

“Yeah, I improved the formula again when Seokmin learned to hit those high notes a few weeks back. Even if they both sing more powerfully, it will be fine, so long as the other sirens aren’t using their full power too,” Mingyu assures and hands you a pair of earplugs that Chan helps you put securely into your ears.

You’re very surprised by how clearly you can hear Mingyu and Vernon talking about the levels in terms you don’t understand but you don’t care. All you know is that it works. That’s all that matters to you.

A minute later, the four of you leave the booth and enter the main room where nobody is singing anymore but the sirens and Seungcheol are praising Seungkwan endlessly for his voice.

“Don’t rub it in that you’ve heard my boyfriend sing before me,” you complain, latching onto Seungkwan poutily. He turns his cheek achingly big and bright smile on you and wraps his arms around you to squeeze a little in a way that portrays his utter joy at finally being able to sing with others for the first time since moving away from his family home years ago.

“What’s your favourite song?” Chan asks you as he plucks the tablet from Wonwoo’s hands to scroll through the options. You answer and Chan makes a pleased sound as he finds it out, already knowing that it’s one they have in the system.

“Oh, Kwannie will sound so good singing that!” Seokmin enthuses. You raise an amused eyebrow at how quickly he’s taken to your boyfriend to call him such a nickname already.

But you truly can’t blame him, Seungkwan really could win the heart of even the coldest person over, so a sweetheart like Seokmin was bound to adore him. You’ve known for weeks that the pair will be incredible friends and feel smugly pleased to be proven right so quickly.

Moments later, the song starts and Seungkwan looks at you nervously. “You’re wearing the ear plugs, right?” He asks, even lifting his hands to gently touch the inside of your ears to feel the spongey material blocking the power of a siren’s song reaching your brain. “They work on non werewolves too?” He glances around nervously.

“I promise that no harm will come to any of us if you sing,” Mingyu assures, giving your boyfriend a gentle, honest smile.

“And I-I can really sing now?” Seungkwan asks, barely waiting for Mingyu to nod in confirmation before he looks back at you and cups your cheeks, fingers hovering by your ears as if ready to plug them himself. “Can I really sing for you, my love?”

“Please,” you encourage, holding onto his waist and trying to urge him with your eyes.

“What if it doesn’t work for you for some reason?”

“Minghao has my wedding dress design, he knows what I want, just make my throne match,” you reply, motioning vaguely around, making Seungkwan look around bewilderedly. “Oh, he’s not here, he’s in America.”

“Who is Minghao?”

“My best friend!” Junhui beams proudly. “He’s a costume designer for many famous TV shows. He’s working on the same show our Joshua is on! It’s about-”

“Okay, you can tell him all about it later, Junnie,” Seungcheol says with a soft chuckle and pats Junhui’s arm. “Let’s just let him sing for his partner for the first time, okay?”

“Right, right,” Junhui agrees and backs up yet watches with wide eyes of anticipation.

“You better sing this time, Seungkwan!” Chan warns, earning an almost glare from your boyfriend that makes you giggle so he looks back at you adoringly as the song restarts.

Seungkwan doesn’t start singing with the vocals, but Seokmin does over at the main room seating, singing around his chewing. You glance over and raise your eyebrows a little, impressed by his voice, yet you’re not affected by the lure in it and look back at Seungkwan.

Seeing your eyes as clear as ever, Seungkwan relaxes enough to finally open his mouth and for the first time in all the years you’ve known him, you hear him sing.

At first, his voice is soft, barely audible over the music and the others’ singing, yet he grows more confident and less afraid the longer you hold eye contact with him. He falters when your expression turns, and your eyes get a little misty when you finally hear his voice properly.

You understand now why the others had fawned over him so much. Seungkwan’s voice truly is indescribable. It’s the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard in your life and you’re already planning to steal the earplugs to take home so that you can sit in Seungkwan’s office every day and listen to him sing song after song for your ears only.

“Baby?” Seungkwan worries when he notices that you’re truly tearing up.

“Don’t stop, your voice is so beautiful Kwan, I’m so happy I can finally hear it,” you whisper, gripping onto his waist securely as if telling him that you’re here and aren’t going anywhere.

Seungkwan adjusts his hold on your face to kiss you, uncaring for the others in the room or their jeering and catcalls at the display of affection mid song. “I’m going to sing for you at every chance I get.”

“You better do.”

Seungkwan nods quickly in agreement with a little, happy laugh before he wraps his arms around your waist to sway you both as he serenades you with love song after love song while neither of you pay any attention to what’s going on around you.

All you care about is this; you and your Seungkwan in your blissful little love filled bubble together.

If there’s one thing you know about Boo Seungkwan, it’s that he should always be allowed to sing.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess

[dramat-ique]

So um do any of you guys like Jazz?

[decapod-appreciator]

Q: juno why havent you been posting art

A: I got really into dc comics and its been the only thing I can think about. sorry! blame my friends

(as one image under the cut)

[thedarkzyxabyss]

Some TV and Shattered Dream comics that were rotating in my head for a while + Something I forgot to address with TV being addressed :3

[thenightshadowqueen]

With the context that (we’re assuming) the reason the characters in Escape from the Vault are stuck there is because they’re fan favourites, Tom asking if they’re there because they’re gay is hysterical, because honestly… the answer is kind of yes

[guppygiggles]

Trying to decide if I want Avery as a medical doctor or a university professor in my Sea and Sky AU… I’m honestly leaning teacher, but, um. Both have their. Charms. ////

[fideidefenswhore]

so tired of tudor dramas where there are no women… and even when there are women… there aren’t…ykwim?

[yuriyaoijesus]

my commissions r open if you would like to support me ! ^__^ my kofi is https://ko-fi.com/yuriyaoijesus

[thedogofchristmaspast]

underrated dynamic i think is peter and dave’s implied rivalry. like they have History

i like to think that since peter was so strangely good at his job the company wasn’t eager to lose him and kept reusing him for many different locations even if multiple closed down. and those locations ended up with dave at them a LOT. we know that dave filled One of them with hot cheese. and peter is at least aware of dave’s crucifixion. and dave knows him well enough by the time he’s building the fazbunker that he knows about his fear of clowns and red-haired girls (dee……). dave hated Him in particular

i think not enough is done with this it could be Such a fun dynamic they HATE each other. Worsties you could say. opposites subtract