#I spent way longer on this than I thought I would

[st7rnioioss]

so like ik you just did the dear diary with sweetheart!reader and brothers best friend Matt but like i NEED for it to be true like her about to write in her diary in-front of him while in the living room or something and then reading it while he just watches for her reaction. and at night he just sneaks in and it’s just so sweet sex yk😩🩷

TOTALLY OFF-LIMITS

⋆ ˚ .ೃ ࿔ * pairing... sweetheart!reader x brothers bsf!matt

𓂃 ֹ ᮫ in which... bbsf!matt once again decides to tease sweetheart!reader, but this time he does something about it. this can be read as a standalone, or a part three to "dear diary".

warnings... smut, unprotected sex, p in v, lowkey bigdick!matt, brief fingering but not really, kissing, swearing, praise kink.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ you looked uninterested down at the homework on your desk, the pen in your hand not even making contact with the paper as your mind went blank. you’d spent all day doing nothing, and the weekend felt much longer than needed. the muffled sounds from the TV in the living room along with laughter swiftly peaked your interested instead. you thought about it for a minute, before you squirmed in your chair, and with a groan you stood up, taking your diary with you.

just last night matt had stumbled into your bedroom, and kissed you like his life depended on it, as if you’d slip away if he stopped. and since then, for the past twelve hours, he was all you could think about. just matt, matt, matt.

carefully, you grabbed your diary and pen, padding down the hallway to join your brother and matt in the living room. but, what you didn’t know, was that when matt had cuddled and kissed you to sleep, your little diary had stolen his attention.

“hi guys,” you smiled softly, giving them both a wave. matt noticed how you avoided his eyes for the most part, obviously holding back a full-on grin as the memories from last night still lingered in the air. your brother didn’t respond, which didn’t surprise you at all, but matt did. “hey there.”

you comfortably took a seat next to matt, your brother too consumed in the show currently playing to take notice of how you shuffled just a little closer to him. carefully, you opened your diary to start on a to-do list you had been wanting to write forever now, feeling matt’s hand gently rest on your shoulder. he tried his best not to let a smirk tug on his lips, but when he felt you tense up under his touch, he failed.

there it was. just like you’d seen yesterday. the red ink matt had used to write those sinful thoughts and fantasies about what he’d do to you, this time in more detail, was yet again scribbled down on the pages of what was supposed to be your secret diary.

you shoot a quick glance matt’s way, which he reciprocated with a smug smile, clearly proud of himself. he nudged your thigh with his knee, motioning for you to start reading the ridiculously filthy pornography on paper.

“i dream about running my hands over your soft skin, under your shirt to feel your warm body, watching as you grow more and more needy. then, i’d help you take off your stupidly short skirt, those i know you purposely wear around me, before doing the same to your panties. you’re wet, just like i bet you are reading this, how your mind is running wild. i’ve read your silly fantasies, and oh. you’ve got some of a vivid imagination.”

your thighs pressed together, nails digging into the hardback cover of the book in your hand. how you wish he wasn’t right—your cunt was aching, and you were sure a pathetically damp patch was already forming on the cotton. “go on. read further.” matt’s words were whispered straight into the shell of your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin making a shiver run down your spine. your brother turned his head for a second, but when you forced an innocent smile his way, he shrugged it off.

“carefully, i would hook your thighs up over my shoulders, having your dripping pussy right in front of me. you have no clue how many times i’ve hand my fingers around my dick, imagining that exact scenario. listening to your desperate whimpers, i’d kiss your sore clit gently to feel you squirm. then, my tongue would delve deep inside you when i give in, tasting your sweetness on my tongue.”

by now you were panting, the deep breaths uncontrolled and uneven as his words crashed over you—he was sitting right next to you, the guy with an apparently equally as dirty fantasy. “uh, i’m gonna go,” you announced, quickly standing up from the couch to speed into your room, not even giving matt another glance.

you || 1.16 pm

matt what the heck

matt || 1.17 pm

you okay?

you || 1.17 pm

no come to my room later please

matt || 1.18 pm

as you wish, sweetheart

a couple hours later you heard the now familiar noise of small pebbles being thrown at your window. in almost a panic, you get off your bed to open the window, meeting matt’s silhouette just a couple feet away.

“matt! shut up, one or two stones is enough.” you shush from your window, watching as he managed to crawl up the drainpipe, taking your hand in his to stumble in through your window. “m’sorry, can’t help i’m eager to see you, and that sweet face,” you laughed as he managed to trip inside your bedroom, his hands finally going to rest on your waist when he found his balance.

you carefully wrapped your arms around his neck, your noses nearly touching from how close you stood to each other. “you think?” he smiled widely, nodding slowly. “oh? oh yeah, you’re not too bad,” his voice lowered, before he pulled you closer to press his lips to yours.

your fingertips grazed his hair, his soft lips moving against yours in a gentle rhythm, just like you’d imagined all those times. matt’s fingertips ran under your shirt as he took a step forward, pushing you against the edge of your bed. suddenly, you felt yourself being pushed backwards gently, matt’s arms around you keeping you safe and secure. his warm body pressed against your own, my fingers now messing up his brown hair.

“matt- i’d really love to kiss you another time, i- i need you right now,” you managed to mumbled between kisses, your fingers withdrawing from his hair to tug at his shirt. “impatient, aren’t we?” he chuckled, yet his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pushing it up your torso. matt’s eyes fixed on your chest for a second, looking up at you with raised brows, and an almost smug smirk. “oh my god matt,” you palmed your face, a warmth spreading over your cheeks as you giggled. “you’re like, fourteen years old.”

before you knew any better, both your shirt and bra was discarded on your bedroom floor, along with his own shirt. “so goddamn gorgeous. can’t you believe you’re letting your brothers friend do this to you..” his words were muffled, wet kisses trailing down your neck and collarbones, feeling his soft lips suck a mark into your skin. “need you..” the words came out slurred, your head whirring, and heart drumming against your ribs.

matt’s fingers dipped between your legs, his lips still connected to the valley of your breasts, his thumb easily finding your needy clit. with a gasp emitted from you, he carefully moved his digit in a circle motion, the already damp fabric beneath his thumb making him smirk. “already so needy.. i knew it.” he prided himself, eventually connecting his warm lips to one of your nipples, his free hand paying attention to your free tit. “o-oh shit,” you whined, arching your back up against his mouth while a long sigh escaped your lips.

matt’s fingers delicately shoved your panties down your legs, pulling back from your chest to look down at you. “shiiiittt.. you've got the sweetest pussy,” he grumbled, the pad of his thumb running in and up your soaked folds, before rubbing his digit over your swollen clit. his eyes met yours for a second, a smile growing on his lips.

your legs are trembling by the time matt is pushing his length inside of your soppy pussy, his cock rubbing perfectly against your inner walls—you’re a whining and mewling mess, awkwardly squirming under him as he laces his fingers through yours beside your head. “theeerre we go… jesus christ, you take me so well, don’t you sweetie?” all you can do is whine in response, the ridiculous stretch of his dick making your head hurt. “it’s okay.. i’ll be gentle with you.” he whispered, leaning down to catch your parted lips in a sweet kiss, one filled with love, not only lust.

“n-need you t’move.. please?” you looked up at him with pleading eyes when he pulled back, your cheeks flushed and a warmth spreading in your lower tummy. “you got it.” he smiled softly, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every slow roll of his hips. your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, mouth falling agape when he took your reaction as a sign to pick up his pace. “you’re too sweet for your own fuckin’ good.. makes me wanna kiss you senseless all the goddamn time..” matt groaned right into your ear, your walls fluttering around his length as he spoke.

“y’so big, matt… c-can’t,” you whimpered, forcing your eyes shut as the overwhelming feeling of his cock basically being bullied inside your slick hole took over all your senses. oh, you were out to kill him. “stroking my ego a bit.. not that i mind.” he chuckled, leaving fat kisses down the side of your face while giving your hands a gentle squeeze. “i think you can, doll.. done it before y’know?” he praised, the almost affectionate plunge of his dick going erratic—your breath was basically choked out of you, pathetic and louder moans being pulled straight from your lips.

matt immediately clasps a hand over you mouth to silence you, not once letting his hips take a break from ruthlessly digging into yours. “shhh, doll face. s-stay quiet please… waking up the whole house-“ he cut himself off with a moan, a trail of heat raking through his body every time your pussy swallowed his girth.

your legs trembled, doing your best to indicate to matt you were gonna come, but to no avail—you couldn’t really speak properly. your moans grew in pitch, all while matt tried his best to shut you up if he didn’t want to lose a friend tonight, your heart racing and face flushing under matt’s grip.

matt enjoyed watching how you responded to his touch, his fingers slipping from yours to connect to your sore and swollen bud. “gonna come for me, sweetheart? you’ve been so good, so adorable. y’deserve it,” his eyes were stuck on yours, leaning down to silence you with his lips rather than his hand, burying it in your hair instead. he tried his best to hold back for you, his dick twitching and aching to fill you up.

it didn’t take you another second to squeeze around his cock, your legs shaking, and moans being swallowed by his lips as you came. and as if on cue, matt’s hips stuttered, emptying himself inside of you. you were seeing stars, at least you were sure you did as matt slowly and carefully fucked you through the waves of pleasure, making sure to prolong it for you both. matt ended up tapping out at some point, your walls milking him dry for everything he had.

“that was pretty incredible,” you murmured with a tiny smile, feeling matt’s chest meet your own when he slumped down on top of you, listening to your heartbeat that was finally finding a reasonable rhythm. he chuckled, “yeah, it was. you’re so perfect,” you smiled when he whispered his last few words, your heart fluttering. “thank you,” you whispered back while lacing your fingers through his hair in a soothing manner.

“no need.. just stating the obvious.”

more sweetheart!reader x brothers bsf!matt here!

˚𝜗𝜚 notes... i hope this wasn't entirely bad.. i wanted to make this a standalone also, praying it won't confuse

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❛❛ © 𝐒𝐓𝟕𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ❜❜

[jenosonlywife23]

Under the Influence (of You)

an; I miss jaehyun so much, and i remembered when youngji invited him to not much prepared. This drabble is inspired by that episode.

You had done the impossible before—held in laughter during live broadcasts, kept a straight face when a friend was clowning you in a group chat mid-interview, even successfully lied to your mom about where you were at 2 a.m. in high school. But this? This was an entirely different level of deception.

Jaehyun, your boyfriend of three years, fresh out of the military and glowing like he hadn’t just spent nearly two years in barracks, had an album out. The fans wanted him everywhere, and your show? They wanted him there the most. Comments flooded every post, every episode. Jaehyun on the show when??? He’s been on everything but this, what’s going on?! If you don’t invite him, I swear—

The problem? Nobody knew you were dating him. Not the fans, not the staff, not even your closest coworkers. Inviting Jaehyun to your show, a show infamous for getting idols tipsy and making them spill their deepest secrets, was like walking straight into a burning building with a bottle of soju in each hand.

So you did what any sane person would do. You stalled. "He’s busy with promo! He has schedules! Let’s give him time to adjust!" But the pressure didn’t let up, and when your producer started hinting at how great the ratings would be, you knew you were doomed.

"Just do it," Jaehyun had said when you finally caved and called him. "It’ll be fine. We’re professionals."

Professionals.

You nearly laughed in his face.

Instead, you called in reinforcements.

"So you’re finally breaking," Karina mused over the phone, amused. "You held out longer than I thought."

"I need strategies," you groaned, pacing your apartment. "What do I do? How do I not make it obvious? We have couple mannerisms, Karina. Mannerisms."

"First of all, don’t call them ‘couple mannerisms,’ that’s weird," she snorted. "Second, don’t look at him like he hung the stars in the sky."

"That’s just my face."

"Fix it."

Your next call was to Mark, because if anyone had experience being in a constant state of panic, it was him.

"Bro, if you slip up on that show, it’s over," he said seriously. "Like, game over. The fans will clip it, dissect it, and within ten minutes, they’ll have a thread with timestamps proving you’re soulmates."

"You’re so helpful, Mark."

"I mean, I could help you make a fake scandal to cover it up. Maybe you and Johnny should have an inside joke or something to throw them off?"

"You want me to make a fake ship to distract from my real relationship?"

"I’m just saying, it worked for me once."

You hung up on him.

In the end, after way too much deliberation, you agreed to invite Jaehyun on the show. The plan was simple—treat him like any other guest. No lingering touches, no secret glances, no laughing at jokes that weren’t actually funny just because he was the one saying them. It sounded easy enough.

But when the day arrived, and he walked onto the set with that lazy smirk, eyes locked on you like he knew exactly what he was doing, you realized something very, very important.

You were so screwed.

—

The cameras were rolling. The staff was excited. The fans were waiting.

And Jaehyun was already making your life difficult.

"Wow," he said as he sat down across from you, stretching like he had all the time in the world. "I finally made it."

"Oh, don’t act like I’ve been keeping you away," you shot back, keeping your tone playful. "You’ve been busy. And I—" you lifted the soju bottle pointedly "—value my job."

Laughter erupted from the staff. Good. Keep it light. Keep it normal.

Jaehyun chuckled, reaching for the glass you poured for him. "I feel like I should be nervous."

You smirked. "You should be."

The first few drinks went smoothly. You asked about his album, his time in the military, his adjustment back into idol life. He answered smoothly, charming as ever, throwing in a few anecdotes that had everyone in stitches. You were doing fine. Everything was under control.

Until the alcohol started kicking in.

Jaehyun’s gaze lingered a little too long when you refilled his glass. Your fingers brushed when you handed it to him. And then—

"You know," he mused, leaning back, "I thought you’d be meaner to me."

Your brain short-circuited. "Excuse me?"

"Like, I don’t know." He swirled his drink, a teasing glint in his eyes. "You usually like to bully your guests. I was expecting some tough love."

Oh, he was playing dangerous games. "Are you disappointed?"

"Not at all," he said smoothly. "It’s nice."

Too nice. Too obvious.

You kicked him under the table. His smirk widened.

Johnny, who had been invited as a surprise guest, arrived just in time to witness the moment and immediately looked into the camera like he was on The Office.

The fans were going to have a field day.

—

Things only got worse from there.

"So, Jaehyun," you said, steering the conversation back to neutral ground. "You had quite the career before enlisting. Was there anything you missed the most while you were away?"

Jaehyun hummed, tapping his fingers against his glass. "A few things, yeah."

"Care to share?"

He tilted his head slightly, eyes locked on yours. "I think I already have."

Your breath caught. No. No, no, no.

Johnny, the traitor, took a sip of his drink and muttered, "Wow, this is getting good."

You shot him a warning look before turning back to Jaehyun with a tight smile. "How about food? Was there a particular meal you missed?"

Jaehyun chuckled, clearly enjoying this. "There was this one dish I really missed. Someone used to make it for me all the time."

Oh, you were going to kill him.

The staff cooed. The fans were going to tear apart every single frame of this episode.

Desperate, you downed a shot and forced a laugh. "That’s sweet. Hopefully, you get to eat it again soon."

Jaehyun’s grin widened. "I think I will."

Johnny let out a full-bodied laugh and gave the camera another knowing look.

You were done for.

—

As soon as the shoot wrapped, you grabbed Jaehyun’s wrist and dragged him into your dressing room, shutting the door behind you.

"Are you insane?" you hissed, crossing your arms. "Do you want us to get caught?"

Jaehyun just grinned. "What, you didn’t like my answers?"

You groaned, throwing your head back. "You were this close to confessing on national television."

He stepped closer, hands gently resting on your waist. "But I didn’t."

You wanted to stay mad, but the warmth of his hands and the teasing glint in his eyes made it impossible. You sighed. "You’re impossible."

"And if you pull something like that again, you can forget about me cooking for you ever again." you muttered.

Jaehyun gasped dramatically. "You wouldn’t."

"Try me."

His pout was immediate. "You’re cruel."

[bumblehoneybee]

Soooo may I request something?

After Angel fixes the generator, they immediately go plant the explosives in the foundation.

What if Dogday, Catnap and Cherub stayed back in safe haven to try and protect the toys and blew up as well? :D

Tonight, Let's Go Out With A Bang

TW: death, descriptions of death, death of a child

It was Cherub who put thoughts into words, whispered in your ear as you stopped to survey your surroundings, find a way past all the debris.

"I don't think Doey trusts us." They said, hushed and uncertain. "Any of us."

You knew he didn't trust you, not fully. How could he? You were part of the system that made him this. You killed countless of the little critters now scurrying out of your way, fearful of the commander of the beasts that roamed what was once their home.

Worst of all, you brought such a beast into the walls of his Safe Haven. A place meant to be free of monsters, but you knew, knew behind the lopsided smile and dreamy little voice, Doey was realizing he let in a pack of wolves to guard his frightened flock.

It was hard to circumvent the damage done by those before, to tread lightly passed landmines buried long before your arrival. You tried your best, offering to go alone into the world, to take on the Doctor and to plant the charges where Poppy indicated.

Oh, your friends protested, Dogday especially.

"I won't let you go off to die." He growled, tucked away with you in a small tent.

"Cherub needs you more than I do right now." You argued back, sending sharp glances to the little eyes peeking through the flaps of your flimsy shelter. They scatter, their hushed voices making guilt sear through your insides at the thoughts of the others, all lying burnt above. "Catnap can't be left alone either, and you know it. Out of all of us, Doey and the critters trust you the most. You here to supervise is what we need while I take care of the rest."

Dogday began to shift his weight around, how he usually did when you left to where he couldn't follow. "Can't Catnap go with you then?"

"Doey would probably feel better if Catnap were here, able to be watched over." You replied easily. "We know he won't attack, but Doey doesn't. He'll be more assured with Catnap in his line of sight, or at least in the line of sight of the others."

Dogday huffed, then a low, mourning whine rose up from the depths of his throat. "Angel. . ."

"I'll be quick." You promised him, stroking your hand down the side of his face. He leaned into the touch. "And I'll come back. I always do."

"You always do." He sighed. "Just. . . be careful."

"I always am." You said with a wink. Dogday rolled his eyes, but went back into the Safe Haven. Critters scurried after him, all smiles and relieved voices, making you swallow hard. You waited a moment, gathering yourself, then went out of your tent towards your first assignment.

The pieces fell into place as they always did. Before you realized, the charges were set in the foundation, laid down by your hands, covered in the blood of the Doctor, of the other poor souls lost to the insanity of isolation, starvation, and hell.

You tried to tell yourself it was for the best. This was the plan Poppy had come up with, and you trusted Poppy. Sure, Doey's doubt made you wonder if there wasn't another way, but Poppy. . . Poppy had spent far longer than you considering all of these things.

After a harrowing escape from the foundation and it's deadly gas, you find yourself caught in the cold grip of clay.

"Doey-!?" You rasped, breathless and frightened of what was to come.

"The Prototype," Doey replied, scanning the area around you, like he was hiding in the stalagmites, "I lost track of him in the tunnels. Have you seen him? Was he at the Foundation? Or was he. . ."

Doey trailed off, staring up at the darkness that hung over your heads. You tried to follow his gaze, but there was nothing around. Everything was still. . . too still.

"What's going on?" Doey asked, a hand to his cheek. He looked to you, but you were as helpless as he was. "I led him away, didn't I? The generator's fine, it's-"

The explosion barely rocked Doey, but it sent you down to your knees. Pain ripped through you, though it was easily ignored as you watched rocks and ash rain down.

That wasn't. . . No, that wasn't right. . .

Doey left you there, struggling to get your feet beneath you. They didn't want to cooperate, shaky and leaden, refusing to move. But you made them, one foot in front of the other. It was slow, it was painful, but you made your way over the tracks, over the vats, down the elevator, back towards Safe Haven.

The sewers were too quiet.

Until they weren't.

Doey's raw scream had your legs working again. You threw off the GrabPack, sprinting down the tunnels towards Safe Haven. Ash choked the air, burned your lungs and eyes, but you pushed through it.

There was. . . fluff on the floor.

You stalled at the atrium.

Everything was on fire. Destroyed.

Your eyes flickered towards center stalls.

There was purple fur spread about in patches, burning steadily.

You turned towards a familiar tent, now crushed.

A pair of legs laid beneath collapsed concrete, clutched by an orange arm.

You took a step backwards. Then another. Then another.

Static ran through your mind, thoughts unable to form as you tried to focus on something, anything. Everywhere you looked merely made the static grow stronger.

Doey was saying something. He was getting bigger, louder, towering over you and howling something to the stars so far above, so far away. But you were both underground, too far away. There were no stars down here, only supernovas and their aftermaths.

You gaze up into sharp, red teeth, shoulders slumping, and you put your head into the lion's maw for him to bite down.

Anything to stop what would no doubt come and drown you.

[burningembers91]

Grains of Sand - Hwang Jun-Ho x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Sleeping with the Enemy The Gangster's Wife Escape Plan Cabin in the Woods Down by the Sea

Synopsis: You and Hwang Jun-Ho spend the day together, and you start thinking about the future.

A/N: In this fic, Jun-Ho's hair has grown out a little, and this is 100% the hairstyle I was picturing:

The sun was dazzling, reflecting off the bright blue of the water with such a golden glare that you were forced to shade your eyes. The sea breeze whipped at your hair and clothes; the taste of salt fresh on your lips as you picked your way along the shoreline. Your bare feet pressed soft tracks into the wet sand, the feeling of the damp grains in between your toes oddly satisfying. Your sandals clasped in one hand, the other gripped tightly in Hwang Jun-Ho’s, you made your way along the beach, stopping every now and again to pick up a shell for the collection you’d started. “Oh my god!” you squealed, spying an iridescent pink shell, the rainbow sheen glinting in the sun. It would look perfect on the windowsill in your apartment, right next to your side of the bed. You didn’t notice the look of love on Jun-Ho’s face as you pocketed it, his cheesy grin spread wide across his face. You were like a whole new person since moving here, finally free of the violent hold your husband had on you. You were so relaxed, so vibrant and full of life.

You’d been on the beach for hours, just walking back and forth along the sand. Life was much slower these days, but you both preferred it that way. Sunday was Jun-Ho’s only day off work, and you made the most of it, waking up when the sun rose to spend as much time with each other as possible. He’d grown his hair out a little, the wind sending his locks out in all directions. You liked the longer length, liked gripping on to it when he made love to you. “Shall we go home?” Jun-Ho asked, pulling you in close to his body, the taste of salt on your skin as he kissed his way up your neck. “Ok,” you smiled, “but it’s your turn to make lunch.”

That was the beauty of your relationship; everything was equal. You took turns cooking and cleaning, sharing the weekly chores. Jun-Ho always made sure he did more than you, despite your protestations, but you’d spent so long with no one else to rely on, and he wanted to make sure he did everything he could to make you feel special. You walked leisurely home hand in hand, discussing what movie you’d watch that night. You’d never thought life could be perfect, but it finally was.

Your feet were still covered in sand when you got back to your apartment, the stubborn grains clinging to your soft skin. The more you brushed them away, the more that seemed to appear. They coated your calves, clung to your palms and fingertips, lodging themselves under your nails. “I’m going to need to have a shower,” you sighed, pulling your dress off and padding through to the bathroom. “Otherwise, we’ll be finding sand in the apartment for months.”

Turning on the hot water, you were just about to step under the stream when you felt arms encircle your waist, Jun-Ho’s breath warm against your neck. “Mind if I join?” he asked, nuzzling the soft spot on your neck, right behind your ear. You leaned yourself back into him, sighing contentedly as his hands trailed across your body. You helped him undress, admiring the toned muscles of his stomach and chest as you removed his t-shirt. His daily rigorous regime on the fishing boat had bulked him out, his biceps stretching the thing fabric of every shirt he wore.

You allowed yourself to be pushed gently against the cool tile, Jun-Ho kneeling before you as he cleaned the sand from your body. He started with your feet, massaging your arch and heels as he brushed the grains from your skin. The feel of his hands against your aching muscles was heavenly, a soft groan of appreciation falling from your lips. His hands moved up to your calves, then your thighs, his kisses mingling with the warm water of the shower. The mix of sensations was exquisite, your moans echoing off the tiled walls. “So needy,” he muttered, smiling as your fingers gripped his hair. “I wouldn’t be so needy if you didn’t make me feel so good,” you breathed, your last word cut short with a deep, hoarse groan as Jun-Ho slipped a finger inside of you.

He was still on his knees, staring up you like a worshiper praying to their God. His eyes were so full of love and devotion, his gaze trained on you as he brought his tongue against your sensitive clit. A string of praises fell from your lips, your back arching as you pushed yourself further into his touch. His mouth and fingers worked in tandem, bringing you to the edge of ecstasy. His eyes never left yours, and you knew he liked to watch when you came undone for him. Your whole body shuddered as you came around his fingers, your hands gripping his hair tightly as you held his face against your soaking core.

Jun-Ho finally rose from his position at your feet, sweeping you into the air and pinning you against the shower wall in one fluid motion. “Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed, his arms round your waist, his body flush against yours as he pushed himself inside of you. Now it was Jun-Ho’s turn to whimper and moan, the feel of your tight walls swallowing him whole never ceasing to take him by surprise. “You feel so good,” he whined, thrusting up into you again and again, chasing his high. His lips met yours, your kisses swallowing the other’s moans, the hot water streaming down your bodies. “Fuck, I love you.” His whispered words against the dampness of your skin, his warm breath on the crook of your neck sent delicious tingles down your spine. The way his cock filled your aching core again and again, hitting a spot deep inside you sent you spiralling over the edge again, your moans of ecstasy taking Jun-Ho with you. His seed painted your walls, his thrusts continuing until he was sure you’d taken every last drop of him.

You stayed under the water together until it began to run cold, your bodies pressed together as your lips explored his. You hunkered under a blanket as Jun-Ho made lunch, stopping every now and again to stare lovingly over at you. The rest of the day was spent in front of the TV, the two of you falling in and out of sleep, your head nestled in Jun-Ho’s expansive chest.

You wondered, not for the first time, whether you’d stay in this tiny fishing town when everything was over. When your husband had been caught, when the dirty cops who’d framed Jun-Ho had been brought to justice, would you return to Seoul, or spend the rest of your days by the sea?

This was where you felt most at home, where your heart soared, and your spirit felt free. This tiny apartment overlooking the ocean, your detective by your side. It was all you’d ever needed.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [POGUELANDIA] - FALLING DOWN

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.9k] Three weeks on Poguelandia and it seems things are looking up just a something starts to come down...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of injuries, graphic depictions of natural disaster(s),

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ heyyyyy! THIS IS THE LAST POGUELANDIA CHAPTER AND THANK GOD (i loved writing this but i'm more excited for season 3, it's so much dramaaa)

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE BACK IN THE WATER?” JJ asked as the two of you waded in the middle of the ocean, floating on large pieces of wood. It was early in the afternoon, the sun just reaching its peak. 

“Feels good…” You nodded, admiring the crystal waters beneath you for the first time in weeks. “Great, actually.”

“That’s great, baby.” The blonde smiled, eyes stuck on your glowing figure in front of him. “Hey,” He called in an attempt to gain your full attention. You turned to look at him, eyes locking with his own. “Look, I don’t wanna kill the mood but…I think we should talk.”

You swallowed, tucking a strand of hair behind your hair. “...About?”

“...Kiara.” The boy dragged.

You couldn’t stop your immediate sigh. “I thought we already did.” You snapped slightly — it’d been a week since one of your best friends took it upon herself to risk your relationship to clear her conscience. 

“You’re right…” JJ nodded, paddling closer to you in the water. “But I had some time to think. And I owe her an apology…and so do you.”

You nearly choked on your own words at his statement. “An apology?” You spewed incredulously. “For what? If anything she owes us an apology.”

“Baby, be reasonable about this-”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” He finalized, head dipping down as he fixed a stern look your way. “Look, I love you and it’s because I love you that I gotta tell you — you’re being mean, princess.”

“Mean?-”

“Yes. Mean.” He asserted. “Do you want me to be real with you?” The Maybank boy asked rhetorically, speaking before giving you the proper capacity to answer even if you intended to. “You’re being really harsh about this whole thing. Kiara has been your friend, your closest friend, longer than any of us. You two have literally spent your entire lives together. And correct me if I’m wrong, but she’s been there for you through a lot and kept a lot of secrets to protect you. I get this is weird for you, but think about how hard this is for her. She may not have made the best choices, I’ll admit, but neither have you and neither have I, but you know and I know and all of us know that Kiara would sooner die than do anything to intentionally hurt you or any of us. She’s dealin’ with some seriously complicated shit, baby. And we’re her friends. We’re not supposed to make it worse. You gotta realize she wasn’t out to hurt you. The same way I wasn’t out to hurt you when I lied about what happened in Charleston. The same way you didn’t mean to hurt her.”

You sat in the ambient silence for a moment, contemplating the boy's words. JJ was right, and if he was the one mediating, then there was clearly a problem. You weren’t completely blindsighted — you knew this whole thing hadn’t been easy for yourself or Kie. But you admitted to yourself, you’d been being just as inconsiderate as she was. If not, more so.

“I already talked with her earlier,” JJ continued, eyes glued to your own that were glossing over the more your thoughts raced in your mind. “I apologized for reacting the way I did and we’re okay. I’m not going to do anything on your behalf. All I’m doin’ right now is giving you a push, alright? Kiara is more your family than anyone here. I get it, shit is awkward but you don’t want to lose her. And definitely not like this. I know you don’t. I know you.” He explained, taking one of your hands in his. “Each other is all we’ve got. So, don’t push away one of the only people you have left. Go talk to her.”

“...NEED SOME HELP WITH THAT?” You asked, creeping up behind the brown-haired girl as she stood on her tippy-toes, reaching for the low-hanging fruit on a tree.

She quickly glanced over her shoulder, startled by the unexpected voice before registering just exactly who was offering help and turning away, refocusing on the fruit swinging in front of her as she strained to get it. “No thanks.” She muttered.

You stood awkwardly behind her, rocking back and forth on your feet. Your skin was sticky and slightly cool from the sea water, small grains of sand sticking to your frame. A few moments of silence passed, watching the girl struggle to get the mango taunting her before you decided to try and spark a conversation once more.

“I, uh, I talked to JJ.”

“Well, he’s your boyfriend... I’d expect you to.” She shrugged, finally grasping the fruit with the tips of her fingers and snatching it down with an exasperated sigh and returning flat on her feet, turning on her heels to face you. She drew her lips into a thin line, raising her eyebrows. “Did you need something or…?”

You simply sighed, running a hand through the front of your hair. "I came over here to apologize.”

To your surprise, the girl scoffed before rolling her eyes and walking past you to take a seat on a large log. Your eyes followed her as she sat down, a look of confusion etched on your features. “What?”

“Nothing.” Kiara shrugged, mindlessly fiddling with the fruit in her hands as she avoided eye contact with you. “Did JJ put you up to this? ‘Cause I just find it funny that he apologized this morning and suddenly you’re so eager to patch things up.”

“He didn’t put me up to anything.” You defended. “He suggested it, yeah, but I can make my own decisions-”

“So, he did.” She scoffed. “That’s-”

“Okay, I’ll admit I wasn’t jumping up this morning with the intention of apologizing to you. But JJ helped me see some things that I clearly wasn’t seeing before.” You started, taking a slow and cautious seat next to the girl as she made a point to not look at you. “So, do you want to talk to me or do you want to ignore each other forever?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N…” Kie sighed, dropping her head as a small breeze drove by. “You said everything I needed to know the night I told you how I felt. And you’ve made it abundantly clear that every since that night, all I’ve done is make your life worse.”

“That’s not true-” You tried.

“But that’s how I feel.” Kiara cut in, finally turning to look at you. “That’s how you’ve been making me feel.” She told you, voice wavering as her eyes softened in the slightest ways. “And I mean, I keep thinking to myself…can I really blame you?” She spoke aloud. “I mean, ever since our freshman year, it’s like everything I do just drags you down. If I hadn’t introduced you to my friend group, you wouldn’t have gotten tangled up with Rafe. If I didn’t kiss JJ in Charleston, maybe our friendship would’ve been more salvageable. Maybe me telling you how I felt would’ve gone differently. Better…”

You couldn’t help but twist your face in something between sadness and utter confusion. “Kie…” You started, voice soft. “I am…so sorry, if I made you feel like you being in my life has made it worse.”

“...Hasn’t it?” She added, eyes welling with tears slowly.

You shook your head quickly, angling your body more towards hers and placing a hand on her shoulder without thought. “Kiara, you have literally been my guardian angel. You and your family were there for me when my dad died, when I moved to Figure Eight you made sure I had friends and didn’t feel like an outcast because you knew what it was like. My situation with Rafe wasn’t at all on you.” You assured her, watching the girl focus her sights on her shoes. “And when he did what he did, you didn’t tell anyone because I asked you not to. It didn’t matter that you thought I should, you respected my wishes. You were ready to fight Rafe when he drugged me and not to mention, you and your parents have been kind enough to give me and Marley a place to stay. From the moment I was born, you made sure I always had a person. And I just threw seventeen years of friendship back in your face.” You listed, your own eyes tearing up now. “...I don’t know why I’ve been acting like you feeling what you feel for me is the end of the world. I can’t excuse it or take back anything I said. But I am genuinely so sorry, for everything. I think…it’s just been so many changes and losses at once for all of us that it just took me by surprise to the point where I took all of my frustrations out on the wrong person. And you didn’t deserve that.”

Kiara sniffled at your words, quickly wiping a stray tear. “...I just, I’ve been trying to do the right thing. I thought, with everything going on, that it’d be better to just get that one thing off of my chest.” She said, voice shaking. “It’d been crushing me for so long. It was like walking around with a boulder on my chest. Everytime I’d see you or you and him together, I just couldn’t take it. I thought saying it and getting it out into the open, or at least out to you, would somehow relieve the guilt that I was feeling. But I shouldn’t have. I was being selfish-”

“No, you weren’t.” You shook your head, letting a stray tear fall. “I should’ve told JJ when it happened. I was so mad at him for what happened in Charleston and I turned around and did the exact same thing. And I shouldn’t have put that pressure on you, either. You had a right to tell him. And what I said to you wasn't okay. All I’ve done since you told me about your feelings is make you feel worse.”

“All I’ve done since I realized my feelings is hurt you.” She let out a watery chuckle. “So, I guess we’re even.” She threw out with a bittersweet smile, placing her hand on top of yours that hadn’t left her shoulder. “Y/N…I don’t know how we’re going to work around this but…I can try.”

“Well, for starters,” You began, letting your hand fall and throwing it out in the direction of JJ who was trying to start a fire. “I know it’s not easy with us practically rubbing it in your face…”

Kiara started shaking her head to the side, scrunching her face together. “No, no. No matter whether you guys make your relationship known or not doesn’t affect me. And even if it did, I’d never ask you to tone down your love for someone to make me feel better.” She immediately shut down your thoughts and turned fully to face you now. “Look, I will get over this. It’s not the end of the world. Maybe one day, we’ll look back on this whole thing and see how stupid it all was.” She said lightheartedly. “...But, seriously. I know it may not seem like it but it’s already gotten easier to see you guys together and talk to you again. So, really. I’ll be fine.” Kiara assured you.

You didn’t offer a verbal response immediately, just a quiet nod as you stared out at the clouds in front of you, hands gripping the log underneath you. “...And the others?” You remembered. “Did you tell them or…?”

Kiara took a deep breath and nodded, glancing over at the remaining group of your friends as they gathered food, rinsed their clothes in the ocean water, and set up for the night. “Yeah, I did…” She trailed off, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “They didn’t really…care? I didn’t expect them to freak out or anything, y’know, but they were so…’eh’ about it, the blank look on their faces was actually kind of funny.” Kiara smiled to herself as you chuckled at her words. “But they agreed — the situation isn’t an easy one. I did things, you did things, JJ did things, and it’s all just messed up. I even got a chance to talk to Cleo and get an actual feel for her. But we’re all each other has. And they said letting something like this ruin one of the longest friendships in the group would be ‘catastrophically stupid’, as Pope put it.” She added. “And I agree.”

“Yeah,” You started. “It would be. And I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You added with a small smile.

“Yeah, I don’t know what you’d do without me either.” The girl joked to which you playfully nudged her shoulder.

“Shut up.” You grumbled with a lopsided smile, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her into a tight embrace, which she eagerly returned. “I’m really sorry.” You spoke into her shoulder.

“Me too.” She softly returned the sentiment when the sound of rapid footsteps bounding your way had the both of you pulling apart and turning towards the direction of the noise to find Sarah and Cleo running your way.

“No, don’t stop, we wanna join!” Sarah screamed, nearly tripping over her own feet as they dug into the sand. Once the pair of girls reached the both of you, they practically tackled the pair of you off of the log and into the sand, forming a messy group hug. “I love this! I love my girls!” Sarah squealed, voice muffled from the embrace.

The four of you fell into a fit of laughter, struggling to breathe under the mess of limbs until you abruptly startled away from one another when a bolt of thunder struck in the sky — a loud crack sound reverberating against your ear drums.

As you released one another and sat up to peer at the sky, you noticed that the once beaming sun was hidden behind an army of grey, stormy clouds, with an occasional spark of lightning behind them. Seconds later, small drops of water hit your skin, one by one — the sand underneath your feet turning from its typical tan color to a sodden shade of brown almost resemblant of brown sugar.

“Get away from the trees!” A voice shouted, all of you turning to your left to find Pope standing out in the open sand with JJ and John B, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Now!” He urged.

The four of you scrambled to your feet, the rain coming down harder by the second. You ran through the sand to reach the guys, shielding your face from the rain as it gained weight and the sand started to pick up with the wind.

“What the hell is goin’ on?!” Cleo asked, trying to move her hair from her face. Her voice was almost lost to the whipping winds that had seemingly risen from nowhere. The sky was now completely grey.

“The storm!” Pope communicated back to her, a hand over his eyes as his shirt whipped around his figure.

“I thought you said it wasn’t coming!” Sarah added, eyes squinted.

“I didn’t think it was! I thought it had passed over us last week!”

“Well, what’re we supposed to do?!” You asked, trying to ignore the roaring winds, quarter-sized raindrops hitting your skin.

“I-” Pope stuttered, quickly glancing at the island around him. “I don’t know! But we can’t stay out in the open like this! The tide’s gonna start rising and I don’t know how far past the shoreline it’s gonna go! And the trees aren’t safe from the lightning right now!”

“We got that, Pope!” John B retorted. “But we don’t have anywhere to go!”

“Nowhere?!” Kie asked like the statement was ridiculous. “Nobody found anything in the three weeks we’ve been here?!”

“Have you?!” John B shot back.

“Shut up!” JJ threw in, looking behind him at the rolling waves in the ocean before turning back to you all. “I know a place we can go!”

“What?!” You started. “Where?!”

“I don’t have time to explain!” He told you, now walking in your direction. “Just follow me!” He urged the rest of your friends, taking your hand in his and heading in the forest of trees. 

“Wait, JJ!” Pope protested, slowing in his steps but still following. “The trees aren’t safe!”

“Then we better run!” The blonde called over his shoulder before quickly sweeping you off of your feet and managing to swing you onto his back with some assistance from you. “We can make it! But we gotta move!”

As the seven of you disappeared into the forest, you looked behind you as JJ carried you to wherever he was leading the group. Your eyes were glued to the makeshift fire pit, the pile of leaves you’d been using as beds, and the fruit pile you all had been living off of for the past three weeks. 

Poguelandia was a dream but it was clear that this dream didn’t come without some nightmares. By the time this storm passed, you knew everything you all had built for the past few weeks would be gone with the wind once you returned. And you couldn’t help but wonder — would you and your friends restart or was it finally time to start finding ways back home?

[zepskies]

I was so happy to read a sequel story for Long As I Can See The Light!!

Russell and you had been together for five and a half months, and each time he left you found yourself wanting more.  More of him and more time. It was frustrating to be with a man who had a job that would pull him out of your arms as quickly as he’d appeared and leave your bed cold once more. 

God YES. This is the same idea I've explored in my sequel fics to ESC. It's the idea of wanting more time with a man who by necessity of his job, has to pop in and out of your life. As endearing as Russell is, that would be such a difficult obstacle to overcome in a new relationship.

Those last few years of your marriage were frustrating and did little to boost your self-esteem. Especially when your husband made you think you were annoying him and made you feel stupid for wanting more.  With Russell there was no such thing. When the two of you started dating and Russell realized exactly what your husband had done to you, he'd spent every waking moment making you feel more beautiful than you ever had. He listened to you, understood you, and did more for you than your husband had done in all the years that you'd been married.

Ugh I'm so glad she's got a man in her life that actually loves her and considers her the way she deserves. And if you ever write more of these two I would love to see this exploration of how Russell helps her feel beautiful and appreciated again. 💕

You loved your boyfriend to bits, but you hated how stubborn he was sometimes.

*snorts* yeah, like a mule, I'd imagine. 😆 But there's something so endearing about Russ wanting and insisting on fixing things around the house for her. Though of course I sympathize with her side of things. She just wants a nice healthy piece of her man. The showerhead can wait! 😏

Maybe I should try a different approach. “Rus.” You say sweetly, putting both of your hands on his stomach. Russell’s familiar green eyes flick to your hands as you begin to move them up the wet t-shirt. “When you showed up today I thought we’d be doing something a little different with our time.”  Russell swallows. “Baby-” “And the longer you stay in here-” You breathe taking a step forward as you continue to move your hands up, tracing the hardened muscles beneath your palms. “The less time we have together.” You gently press a kiss to the space where his shirt meets the base of his neck and you can feel the bob of his throat as he swallows again. 

Oh how I cackled! 😝 She's playing dirty and I love it lmao! Girl get him!

He groans. “I really want to do this for you, but you’re making it kinda hard-“  “Really?” You mutter nipping along his jaw. “That’s what I’m making hard?”

💀💀 Get himmmmm!

“I could tell.” He smirks. “Maybe your shower head would last a little longer if you didn't wear it out." Russell sends you a salacious wink that makes you blush bright red.

LMFAO. Okay, Russ took me out with that one. The audacity. 🤣🤣

Side note: but I love the word "salacious," especially because it fits so well with most Jackles characters. lol

Omg yay he's moving in!! That's a big step and I love that for them.

Not when he’d taught you that each blemish or curve you once cursed was something that could make him lose his last shred of self control and in turn, make Russell lose himself in everything you were. 

Girl Yessss - I love the body positivity in this storyverse so damn much. Thank you for continuing this giving me more Russell goodness, I really enjoy how you write him! 💜

It's Not A Wet T-Shirt Contest

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt: “Is that supposed to be leaking?”

Requested by: @luci-in-trenchcoats

Summary:  When your boyfriend comes into town to surprise you one weekend, you thought that you’d spend it together, turns out he has other plans. Reader is a single mom and is the niece of Teddi and Velma. Reader is described as curvy. (Technically takes place in my Long As I Can See The Light Universe, but can be read as a stand-alone.)

Tropes: Established Relationship

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because I made it more spicy than I meant it to, References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Cursing, Kissing, Idiots who love each other lots. I think that's everything?

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n if any. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Tracker Masterlist

A/N: Alright, y'all this is my first fic written for my prompt celebration requested by the wonderful @luci-in-trenchcoats 😊 ENJOY!

You took another long sip of coffee from your favorite hand-painted "World's Best Mom Mug" and tried to block out the symphony of the colorful curse words and banging coming from your upstairs master bathroom.

When your boyfriend showed up this morning out of the blue to surprise you, this was not what you expected to be doing. Well, his appearance was a surprise to you, but you had a sneaking suspicion that your Aunt Teddi and her wife Velma had gotten a heads up that Russell was coming. They'd shown up about an hour before Russell had to take your son and daughter for a movie and a sleepover at their house.

But the bigger surprise was your current dilemma.

You'd expected to be tangled up with Russell in bed for hours trying to convince him to never leave you again, not be waiting downstairs while he tried to install a new shower head in your master bathroom.

You only blamed yourself.

You'd let it slip that the water pressure wasn't quite right and something that you'd thought would take a plumber twenty minutes had turned into an all day affair for Russell. 

Instead of taking you to bed, Russell had dragged you out to his car and to the nearest hardware store where he let you pick out a new shower head and where he got supplies, all the while you told him that he didn't need to, and Russell only kissed away the frown on your lips leaving you wanting more.

You always wanted more.

Russell and you had been together for five and a half months, and each time he left you found yourself wanting more. 

More of him and more time.

It was frustrating to be with a man who had a job that would pull him out of your arms as quickly as he’d appeared and leave your bed cold once more. 

It had been cold before and you didn’t want to go back to that. Didn’t want to be reminded of the cold bed over the final years of your marriage when your husband’s favorite phrases echoed through your bedroom after you put your children to bed:

“I’m tired” and “Not tonight baby, I have to work.”

Those last few years of your marriage were frustrating and did little to boost your self-esteem. Especially when your husband made you think you were annoying him and made you feel stupid for wanting more. 

With Russell there was no such thing.

When the two of you started dating and Russell realized exactly what your husband had done to you, he'd spent every waking moment making you feel more beautiful than you ever had. He listened to you, understood you, and did more for you than your husband had done in all the years that you'd been married.

But each time he left, Russell always took a little bit of yourself with him. You didn't sleep well when he was gone doing God knows what, God knows where, only that when he finally called or showed up to tell you he was okay, you didn't let go of him for hours.

There's another loud bang followed by a string of curses that make you sigh into your mug.

For fucks sake, that stupid showerhead is getting more action than I am.

You loved your boyfriend to bits, but you hated how stubborn he was sometimes.

You straighten up from where you lounged against the countertop in your kitchen, taking one more sip of coffee, before you make the trek through your living room and up the stairs towards your bedroom. 

This wasn't the first time that Russell fixed something in your home. He liked it when you made him a list of things to do when he visited, things like cleaning the gutters, nailing down the front step that always caught underfoot, mowing the lawn, etc. Things that Russell wanted to do for you because he knew how busy you got at work and with your children.

It made you love him more, because you’d never met someone so selfless before. 

When you enter the bathroom, Russell is standing in your shower, just inside the large glass double doors, soaking wet, and holding a wrench.

His usual easy smile has slipped into a frustrated frown while he stares at the bright silver shower head hanging on the wall. 

“I see things are going well.” You snort out a laugh, admiring the scene before you. 

Russell’s dark hair drips forward in lazy strands against his cheeks, his t-shirt clings to his chest like a second skin, catching in the dips and curves of your boyfriend’s muscular torso, and his usual blue jeans are stained a dark navy. The edge of his t-shirt pulls up from the top of his jeans with the stretch of his arms, giving you a view of the delicious stripe of skin just below his belly button.

For the love of french toast, the guy could win a wet t-shirt contest without batting one of those ridiculously perfect eyelashes of his.

At this point you were still trying to figure out how the hell you landed this man and why the hell he kept coming back for more of you.

“Smooth as silk.” Russell gives you a lazy smile that makes you feel like butter on a pile of buttermilk biscuits. “I just finished.”

 “Really?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Huh.” You take a step closer to admire his handiwork, so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath ghost along the side of your face, making goosebumps trail over your skin. All it does is remind you of what the two of you could be doing instead of standing inside of your walk-in shower fully clothed and the things the two of you had done in this very shower the last time he was in town.  

"Is that supposed to be leaking?" You ask, pointing to the place where the plate of the shower head fastens to the wall and where there is a trickle of water dancing down the white subway tile backsplash.

"Oh shit." Russell sighs, his shoulders drooping when he notices the stream. “I can fix that."

You note his sheepish smile. “Rus, please let me call a plumber. You’ve been up here for two hours!” 

“No way! They overcharge you and it’s what I’m here for!” He argues.

Maybe I should try a different approach.

“Rus.” You say sweetly, putting both of your hands on his stomach. Russell’s familiar green eyes flick to your hands as you begin to move them up the wet t-shirt. “When you showed up today I thought we’d be doing something a little different with our time.” 

Russell swallows. “Baby-”

“And the longer you stay in here-” You breathe taking a step forward as you continue to move your hands up, tracing the hardened muscles beneath your palms. “The less time we have together.” You gently press a kiss to the space where his shirt meets the base of his neck and you can feel the bob of his throat as he swallows again. 

“I-” He tries again, but you feel his hands come down to the curve of your hips to ground himself there. 

“Don’t you want to spend time with me?” You murmur into his skin, pressing your chest against his as your hands work up to the back of his neck. The water from his clothes soaks into yours, but you’re not cold. 

“You’re fighting dirty.” He half groans, but you don’t feel bad. Judging by the way his hands have begun to squeeze your hips and pull you tighter against him, Russell was enjoying this as much as you were. 

“But it always works.” You purr against his throat with a smirk. 

“Fuck, baby I-“ 

“Yeah?” 

Your smirk grows the more you tease him. By now you could feel your own heartbeat thudding in your chest calling out to his and despite how cold Russell’s wet clothes are, heat was dancing along your skin. 

“I really want-“ There’s a grit along Russell’s voice, as if he’s trying to hold on to some shred of self-control.

You loved that you were able to do this to him, it made you feel powerful and sexy. Two things that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Hmm?” You moan softly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while your lips continue their path along his skin.

He groans. “I really want to do this for you, but you’re making it kinda hard-“ 

“Really?” You mutter nipping along his jaw. “That’s what I’m making hard?”

Russell pulls back from you, holding your wrists in his large hands. But he looks far from angry. His green eyes flash a darkened pine, and dance with mischief. “Baby, trust me. There is nothing more that I want to do than show you how much I missed you.” 

“Then why-" You begin to say.

“Because I know that the second I do that, we’re not going to do anything else the rest of the time I’m here. And I want to do this for you.” Russell’s eyes shift a little lighter. He releases your wrists and cups your cheek with his large hand. You can see the love you have for Russell reflected back at you in his gaze

You sigh again a little disappointed. Today really wasn’t going the way you wanted it to.  “But I missed you.” 

“I could tell.” He smirks. “Maybe your shower head would last a little longer if you didn't wear it out." Russell sends you a salacious wink that makes you blush bright red.

“Shut up!” You slap him on the shoulder, cheeks flaming. 

Russell only smirks wider at you. “You know… I’ve got a solution for that.”

“Oh do you?” You ask innocently. 

Finally, we’re getting somewhere.

Russell hesitates, his hand still stroking your cheek softly. "I could move in."

It was the last thing that you were expecting him to say.

“See I've been thinking about this for a bit." Russell  clears his throat. “I know you can’t move because of the kids but... I want to be here in your life. I hate leaving you and each time I get done with a job I always find myself driving back to you. I don't want to be anywhere else.”

Your mouth is still open in shock, eyes wide. You couldn’t find the ability to speak.

In the months that followed your divorce you’d been on a couple of dates before you met Russell, where the mere mention of your kids sent your dates scuttling into the shadows or back to whatever swamp they crawled out of, but here, standing in front of you was a man who didn’t just want you, he wanted you, and he wanted your children. 

It was a combination that you thought you’d never find, and then you’d met Russell. A man who not only loved you, he made you feel beautiful, alive, happy, and seen in a way that you hadn’t been in years. 

Not to mention that both of your children absolutely loved Russell, and he did a good job of scaring off your skeevy ex who refused to come around whenever Russell was in town because the last time Russell had broken his nose and threatened other bodily harm.

Russell’s soft smile drops a little the longer you remain silent. “But if you think that’s a bad idea or if you think it’s too fast-”

You pull him down to you for the searing kiss that you’d wanted all day long, feeling the drag of his beard against your soft skin, and the warm pillow of his lips moving in tandem with yours. 

His hands run along the curves of your body, trailing fire in their wake, the same curves that you’d hidden under long cardigans and oversized clothes, the ones that you cursed each time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. But not since you’d met Russell. 

Not when he’d taught you that each blemish or curve you once cursed was something that could make him lose his last shred of self control and in turn, make Russell lose himself in everything you were. 

“It’s not too fast! I hate when you leave. I hate waking up in my bed each morning and not having you there holding me. ” You breathe before you kiss him again, soaking in everything that is Russell as you do. The roughness of his hands pushing up the shirt hung low on your hips, the smell of mint and gunmetal, the taste of the coffee he had this morning, and gentle drag of his wet hair against your cheeks that dip between the two of your faces when you kiss. “I want you here with me all the time.”

“Then I’ll stay.” Russell smiles so wide you can feel the click of his teeth against yours when he pulls you back in for a kiss. 

“Wait.” You smirk, leaning your forehead against his, your hands gently cupping his bearded cheeks. "If I say yes, I have one condition."

"Anything."

"Please let me call a plumber."

Russell rolls his eyes at you, but squeezes you tighter against him, green eyes flashing with mischief. “Not a chance baby.”

A/N: It was so fun to write this prompt and also to come back to these two! Thank you so much @luci-in-trenchcoats for requesting this one 🥰 If anyone else would like to ask me a prompt for my prompt celebration, here is the post:

Prompt Celebration

As always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always appreciated 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady

@yvonneeeee

[gottencents]

Falling Behind - Ningning

pairing. nonidol!ningning x reader

synopsis. Ningning, a girl with somniphobia, unexpectedly experiences the best sleep of her life after spending the night next to her best friend, Y/n, at a party, leading her to desperately seek out a way to have Y/n beside her every night, even if it means striking a contract.

The night was in full swing. A deep, golden hue bathed the house as the music blared in the background. Laughter and conversation bounced around the room, creating a soft buzz in the air. Winter’s party was in full force, the kind of event that felt alive with energy. Friends, acquaintances, and some random faces filled the house, dancing, talking, and sharing drinks.

Ningning, on the other hand, was tucked away in a corner, nursing a drink in hand but not quite joining in. She was perfectly content watching from the sidelines. Parties weren’t really her scene, not because she didn’t enjoy spending time with her friends, but because there was always a strange, lingering feeling within her—an unspoken fear.

She shifted uneasily in her seat, her fingers tapping against the cool surface of her cup. Ningning wasn’t particularly shy, but she had a hidden anxiety, something that no one knew about, not even her closest friends. She had somnipohia, a fear of sleeping alone. It wasn’t just a mild unease—it was a deep, unsettling feeling that would stir within her every time she faced the prospect of being in an empty room at night. The thought of being in her bed, alone in the dark, often left her heart pounding.

Tonight, as she watched her friends mingle, dance, and enjoy themselves, Ningning tried to push away that gnawing fear. Just make it through the night, she told herself. She had always done it—spent years convincing herself that it was manageable. She could sleep alone, even if it meant staying up far longer than she should, trying to exhaust herself into falling asleep.

Her gaze flickered over to Winter, her best friend, who was chatting animatedly with a group of people. Winter caught Ningning's eye and smiled at her, a knowing grin. Winter was always the outgoing one, the one who knew how to fit in anywhere. She probably didn’t even realize how much time Ningning spent feeling different—always holding back, always fighting the loneliness of her thoughts when it came to nighttime.

“Hey, Ning!” Winter called, weaving through the crowd to stand beside her. “Are you going to sleep soon? I’m about to crash.”

Ningning forced a smile, trying to appear more relaxed than she felt. “I’ll stick around a bit longer.”

Winter grinned. “I know you’re not big on parties, but you’ve been so quiet tonight. Don’t overdo it, okay? You know I’m here if you need anything.”

Ningning nodded, grateful for her friend’s concern. But the weight of her own anxiety was still there, heavy and constant, no matter how much she smiled or tried to mask it.

A few hours later, the party had dwindled down. Some guests had left, and the music was now just a distant hum from the speakers. The house was quieter, and Ningning, still feeling the tension in her chest, started to make her way to the couch. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to go to her own room; the thought of lying alone in that empty space was unbearable.

As she walked into the living room, she spotted Winter’s younger sister, Y/n, curled up on the couch, her head resting on a pillow, her body tucked under a blanket. Y/n had always been the more easygoing of the two siblings, the one who could sleep anywhere, anytime, without a care in the world. Ningning envied that ability. She, on the other hand, would never get such comfort.

Y/n stirred a little as Ningning entered the room, her eyes blinking open. “Hey,” she said, her voice soft and sleep-laden. “You still awake?”

Ningning hesitated for a moment before sitting down cautiously beside her. “Yeah... just trying to relax.”

Y/n smiled sleepily and shifted slightly on the couch. “Well, it’s quiet now. Probably a good time to get some sleep, huh?”

Ningning paused, her heart pounding a little faster. She had always been fine with being alone in a space filled with people, but once the room quieted down and everyone had gone to bed, the sense of emptiness became overwhelming. Being in the living room alone felt like an ocean she couldn’t cross.

Before she could respond, Y/n yawned widely, her eyes still half-closed. “I think I’ll just rest here for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ningning said, her voice softer than usual, more uncertain. She’d never imagined someone would sleep on the couch with her. She wasn’t sure why, but the idea felt oddly comforting. The thought of having someone else close by, even if it was just Y/n, was surprisingly reassuring.

“Goodnight, Ning,” Y/n mumbled before drifting back to sleep.

Ningning sat still for a while, just watching her. She felt a strange, warm sense of peace. The sensation of someone else’s presence, the rhythmic rise and fall of Y/n’s breathing, was enough to ease the tension in her chest. As she lay there next to Y/n, for the first time in as long as she could remember, Ningning felt her mind start to slow. The heavy, constant anxiety she lived with seemed to fade away for the moment.

In that peaceful silence, she found sleep—deep and untroubled.

When Ningning woke, it wasn’t to the usual sense of dread or exhaustion. The sunlight was just beginning to filter through the windows, casting soft, golden rays over the room. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, only to find Y/n still lying next to her, curled up under the same blanket. It took her a few moments to process what had happened the night before.

I actually slept... she thought, a sense of disbelief washing over her.

She had slept through the entire night without the usual restless tossing and turning. Without the dread of being alone. Without the fear of darkness.

The sensation was so new, so alien, that it almost felt like a dream.

Y/n began to stir beside her, a soft yawn escaping her lips. “Morning, Ning,” she said with a sleepy smile. “You actually look... well-rested.”

Ningning blinked a few times, unsure of how to respond. “I... I actually feel rested.”

Y/n tilted her head, her expression softening as she observed Ningning more closely. “You look different. I’m glad you slept well.”

Ningning smiled faintly, but then the words spilled out before she could stop them. “Can you... can you stay with me again tonight? I don’t know why, but I feel... better when you're here.”

Y/n blinked, a little surprised, but then nodded without hesitation. “Of course, Ning. I’m happy to help you.”

But Ningning didn’t stop there. She hesitated, her voice quieter now, more serious. “Actually... I’ve been thinking about it. What if we make this... official? Like, a contract or something. For a whole month. You stay with me, and I’ll do something for you in return—anything you want.”

Y/n’s eyes widened slightly, and then she laughed softly, a warm, genuine laugh. “A contract? You want me to stay with you for a whole month?”

Ningning nodded, her cheeks slightly flushed. “I know it sounds strange, but I really need this. I need to sleep, to feel like I’m not... alone.”

Y/n sat up fully now, her gaze softening. “Okay, let’s do it. If it helps, I’ll stay with you. For however long you need. You’re not alone, Ning.”

Ningning’s heart swelled with a mix of relief and gratitude. She had never imagined asking anyone for this kind of comfort, but somehow, Y/n made it feel easy.

And for the first time in her life, Ningning allowed herself to believe that she didn’t have to face her fears alone.

After Ningning nervously proposed the idea of sleeping next to Y/n for a month in exchange for "peaceful sleep," Y/n was initially taken aback. The idea seemed strange, yet there was something endearing about Ningning’s shy request. Y/n, sensing the vulnerability in her friend's voice, decided to play along, albeit with a hint of curiosity.

"Are you sure about this, Ningning?" Y/n asked gently, studying the girl’s face. "You know, it's not like I mind, but... are you really asking me to stay over every night?"

Ningning, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, nodded quickly. "I know it sounds weird... but it's just, well, I’ve never had a full night’s sleep before. Not really, not without feeling scared or anxious. But last night... I slept like I’ve never slept before. It was... comfortable, and I think it’s because you were there."

Y/n’s heart softened at the confession. She hadn’t realized just how much Ningning was struggling with her fear of sleeping alone. She had always known her friend as bright and bubbly, the one who brought energy to every room, but now it was clear how much Ningning had been quietly battling in the background.

"I can do that, if it helps," Y/n said after a pause, her voice warm with understanding. "But you know, it’s not just about sleeping. I care about you, Ningning. I’m not doing this just for the sleep."

The sincerity in Y/n’s words made Ningning’s heart flutter. It wasn’t just the comfort of sleeping next to someone that mattered—it was the idea that Y/n truly cared for her, that she was willing to be there for her in this way.

“Really?” Ningning asked softly, eyes wide.

Y/n chuckled lightly, her usual confident demeanor softening around the edges. "Of course. But let's get this straight—this isn't some... deal you’re trying to make, okay? I’m doing this because I care about you and want you to feel safe."

Ningning’s eyes softened as she processed Y/n’s words. She nodded, trying to hide her nervousness, but Y/n could see the faint spark of hope in her expression.

That night, as Y/n lay next to Ningning in bed once again, the silence between them felt different. It wasn’t awkward, but there was a new sense of closeness that neither of them had anticipated. Ningning, for the first time in years, fell asleep without the usual undercurrent of fear. She felt safe, wrapped in a blanket of security that came from the warmth of Y/n’s presence.

As the nights passed, this new routine became their unspoken bond. Every night, Y/n would arrive at Ningning’s apartment after a long day, sometimes tired herself but always showing up, ready to offer the comfort Ningning so desperately needed. Slowly, Ningning began to realize that it wasn’t just the act of sleeping next to Y/n that brought her peace—it was the companionship, the constant reassurance that someone was there for her, no matter what.

But soon, it became clear to Ningning that her feelings for Y/n were shifting. What had started as a simple need for comfort was blossoming into something much deeper. She found herself looking forward to more than just sleepovers with Y/n. Her heart fluttered when Y/n would brush a strand of hair from her face or when their hands would accidentally brush as they shared the bed. There was a tenderness in Y/n’s touch that Ningning hadn’t expected, and it made her wonder if there could be more between them.

One night, after several weeks of sleeping side-by-side, Ningning decided to be honest with herself. As she stared at Y/n, who was already half asleep beside her, Ningning took a deep breath.

“Y/n?” she whispered softly.

Y/n stirred, her eyes blinking open in the dim light. “Yeah?”

Ningning hesitated, heart pounding in her chest. “I… I don’t just need you to sleep next to me, Y/n. I think I need you... in other ways too.”

Y/n, sensing the seriousness in Ningning’s voice, turned her body to face her, concern in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Ningning bit her lip, gathering her courage. “I think I’m falling for you, Y/n. I don’t know when it happened or how, but I feel it. You’ve been there for me more than anyone ever has, and it’s not just about the sleep. It’s about everything... about you.”

Y/n was silent for a moment, her expression unreadable. Ningning’s heart sank, thinking she might have misread the signs.

But then, Y/n reached out, cupping Ningning’s cheek gently with one hand. “Ningning,” she said softly, “I care about you too. More than I ever thought I would.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Ningning couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over her. Y/n had been kind, patient, and understanding with her, but she never imagined it could go beyond that.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything," Y/n continued, her voice quieter now. "But I’ve been feeling something too. Something I didn’t want to acknowledge because I didn’t want to complicate things between us. But I think... I think I’ve started to care about you in a way I didn’t expect.”

The realization hit Ningning like a wave, and her chest felt lighter than it had in years. She could feel the warmth in Y/n’s touch, the sincerity in her eyes. It wasn’t just a comforting presence anymore—it was something more.

In that moment, everything shifted. Ningning wasn’t just seeking comfort in Y/n’s presence anymore. She was learning that sometimes, the things we need most can also lead us to the things we never expected to find.

And as the days went on, the contract they had jokingly agreed to, now felt less like an arrangement and more like the beginning of something real. Something that both of them had been waiting for, in their own quiet way.

Each night, as they drifted off to sleep, side by side, Ningning realized that the peace she had longed for wasn’t just in the absence of fear—it was in the feeling of being truly seen and cared for by someone who understood her more than anyone else ever had.

And for the first time in years, Ningning knew that she didn’t need to be afraid of being alone anymore. Not when Y/n was there, not just as a friend, but as something much more.

[imeriayapping]

an angsty shark n' roses fic about their shift from childhood friends to current rivals? stranger? do whatever dynamic you want for them. Greatly appreciated, also I am in love with your work, you're lowkey carrying this ship on your back, goat.

Pedro misses the sea. He craves its’ comfort.

The dream of stepping into the water and never coming back is always there, lifting up the pressure of living off of him. Right now, that dream also contains Fermin, who is watching him make first step towards the place of no return. Fermin, who he also wants to steal; for them to seat on the beach after long day of training, before they’ll need to return to Pedro's childhood home because his parents are about to become too worried with how long they’ve been gone for.

He misses the sea. The calm and warmth that was there when he looked at the waves while sitting under the evening sun.

Right now, Pedro can't have none of those things.

Instead, he is sitting in his van. Silent, cold and alone. Somehow, this hurts more than any of his previous crashes.

But he knows that it’s the only right thing for him to do. They can't be close anymore. Not like that, at least.

They’re all grown up now and there’s no place for such a childish thing as love between them. It's the only way for them to be.

Pedro can't risk running into Fermin on track and have everything blow up right in his face.

Maybe, it will never stop hurting. Maybe, he will never feel as warm as he did once, sitting next to Fermin on the beach. Maybe, when he comes back to the sea, it won't calm him like it did once.

But it all will be worth it in the end. He is here; he fought for his place. No one will be able to take that away from him.

And Pedro will give anything away, if it means he will be able to chase all of the glory that there is left to get. Pole position was nice, but he knows, for a fact, that podium tastes better. Podiums are very nice too, but he can feel how much more his first win will be.

And, on some nights, he goes to sleep dreaming of the championship. It doesn't matter that the place on his bed beside him is cold.

It doesn't.

But not tonight. Tonight, instead of that, he's just laying in his bed that is simultaneously too small and too empty. He and Fermin spent too many nights cramped together in this place that now it feels cold and empty. It’s still and absolutely soundless, amplifying all of the thoughts in Pedro's head. Which is evidently doing no good for him. Obviously.

Right now, all Pedro can do is curse the whole paddock that made his van the safest and most convenient place to be themselves together.

Because, now, when he needs to hide, to pretend that no feelings were ever involved, it's impossible to do with every centimetre of the van being full to the brim with the memories of them.

And that's the last thing he needs at the moment.

It was hard enough to tell Fermin everything. To see hurt paint his features in real time. To maintain his indifference, not to rush to his side and comfort him.

But it was the right decision. They truly can't continue on like that. Can't keep getting even more intertwined. It will not only be huge risk at the track, but also...

What would happen if it comes to light? Their careers would be ruined without even starting properly.

So, Pedro truly made this decision for both of their sakes. Now, all that is left is to convince his stupid heart that Fermin should no longer occupy any space in it.

It hurts to even think about that, but it needs to happen no matter what.

He can't keep carrying Fermin in his heart like he had for the years before.

To be completely honest, Pedro is cursing himself at this very moment. Because, he should’ve predicted this. Should’ve never even let Fermin anywhere near his own heart. But what can you do, when you are ten and, suddenly, there is someone right in front of your face, whose passion for bikes is on par with your own?

There was no way Pedro could ignore him at the time.

He really should have, though.

With all of this, Pedro wonders: if he could go back in time to warn his old self of what was to come out of that innocent friendship - would he?

Because, even with how much it hurts to ignore Fermin now, he can't imagine going through his life without carrying this love inside of him. Honestly, looking at his life as a whole, he would probably be different person entirely. Love has the power to change people, and it clearly did so before.

So, Pedro needed to cut out the source of love, before it had the chance to influence his riding.

There is nothing more important than his riding.

He should focus on that instead of unnecessary feelings.

The gap in his heart is irrelevant.

[corgiss]

I know a lot of you follow me for my DCxDP stuff, but unfortunately I have been having a rough time with writing lately and I haven't made much progress on the next entry.

In the meantime, I thought I would mention some facts about this AU that I haven't been able to touch on yet!

1) Dick has hEDS, which I mentioned in part five. When he got the diagnosis, Tim spent months working to create a suit that worked like a body braid (a type of compression gear made for hypermobile folks) without looking like one. Dick hasn't had a sub-lapse on patrol since Tim finished.

2) Jason has fibromyalgia. He doesn't like to talk about it, because a lot of people consider it an excuse or think it's fake. On particularly bad days, he can't even patrol, because he hurts so bad that his gear touching him is painful. Steph takes over patrolling Crime Alley on these days.

3) Pit madness is essentially ecto-starvation. Being somewhat of a ghost himself, Jason requires a small amount of ectoplasm every once in a great while to function at full capacity. The longer he goes without some sort of source (i.e. the Lazarus Pit, a portal, a ghost, etc.) the worse it gets.

3a) Danny's ectoplasmic radiation is enough to stave off this hunger. Jason has felt a lot calmer since Danny showed up; Jason doesn't quite understand why, but Danny's put the pieces together.

4) Dick made Danny and Jason matching t-shirts. Jason’s shirt says “I died and all I got was this t-shirt”. Danny’s says “I died and all I got was this t-shirt (and superpowers)” Danny thinks it’s a lot funnier than Jason does.

5) Being immunocompromised, Tim is theoretically more susceptible to ectoplasmic radiation than the others. It does make him a little sick to be around Danny for too long, but he’ll never tell anyone, because it’s not Danny’s fault.

6) Vlad, on his end, is trying to get Jack and Maddie’s funding cut and licenses stripped. He’s nothing if not a petty bitch, but he also genuinely cares about Danny and wants him safe.

7) As soon as Jason actually meets Jazz in person, he’s gonna be completely head over heels. They both have the Older Sibling thing going on, and Jazz is probably like a third of Jason’s weight but she still bosses him around like she’s not even a little bit frightened by his presence (spoiler; she’s not even a little bit frightened) and he loves how ready she is to take over a situation and lead everyone through a perfect plan.

7a)He hasn’t had a lot of people he felt this way about, so he promptly flips his shit when he realizes.

That’s all I have to share for now, but I hope y’all enjoy the fun facts 🥰

[imshymorph]

Alright, so this ended up being way longer than i thought it would be, so it’s gonna be a two parter!

Plan was hurt/confort with Soap! (this part is hurt the next will be comfort)

Opposites attract

“C’mon, bonnie jus’ take the glasses off”. Johnny says, his brows raising in amusement at your continued refusal.

You don’t think he knows why you’ve still got them on, that's precisely why they’re there for, anyway. You had no idea how you had ended up in this situation, You had always been on the calmer side, you enjoyed your alone time, loved your job at the small book shop a few streets from here and spent most of your friday nights at home, with one of you confort movies on and making a fancy dinner for yourself. You were one for picnic dates and slow dancing in the kitchen, not for one night stands and situationships.

It’s a wonder you get along with someone like Johnny, let alone have a relationship with him… or whatever this was. You didn’t quite know how it happened, how he always managed to talk you into doing whatever he had planned for the two of you. But you did, which had landed you in a pub full of people just like him, loud and rambunctious, not scared to make their presence known and, of course, military.

“Just take ‘em off,” he insists, and god dammit moments like this make you hate how convincing the confident grin on his lips can be. Still, you manage to stay strong. “It would mess up with my outfit, though”. It’s the best excuse you can think of, and it makes you internally cringe because you both know you’re not one to fuss about outfits, much less about sunglasses.

You seem to get away with it though, mostly because a few already-drunk and fatigue-clad men walk by, almost bumping into the both of you. You adjust your glasses, making sure they stay up to hide the uncomfortable and slightly anxious way your eyes move from one side to the other of the pub. At least the rowdy group gives you an excuse to move away from the quickly crowding bar area and to a more secluded corner.

A laugh leaves Johnny as he chats with a couple of the drunk blokes, because of course he’d know them, the social butterfly that he is. He looks around for a second when he finds the spot where you had been seconds ago empty, but it barely takes him a moment before he has spotted you, a smile on his lips as he goes to you.

He seems so natural here, the way he easily moves through the crowd, getting nods and cheers from the groups in the different booths and tables. You’re sure he’d tell you that this place is a second home to him. A place where he feels free and surrounded by his own people. Well, his own people except you, of course, that one you were still trying to figure out. After all, what would someone like him see in someone like you?

Your thoughts are quickly interrupted when he stands before you, stopping close enough that he towers over you. He leans even closer, if that’s possible, until his mouth is just centimeters away from your ear –you’re sure he’d justify it as him making sure you can hear him through the loud music and crowd at the bar–. “Come on, bonnie, you’re acting like a poser right now”, he says, that damned little smirk on his lips when he pulls back enough to look at your face.

“A poser?” You ask with a light huff, even if you know he’s only saying it as a nice way to call out your shitty excuse from earlier, “you know how dumb that sounds?”. And you know you’ve fallen right into his trap when that ever-present smirk turns into a full on grin. “Says the one wearing fake glasses,” Johnny instantly retorts, leaning back on the edge of a table, not quite sitting. His arms cross over his chest as he looks down at you, a playful grin on his lips as he studies your every movement –or well, as much as he can while you’re wearing the sunglasses–.

“They’re not fake, they’re sunnies”, you correct him, because there’s no other thing you can think of saying. Before you can try to add any other half-assed excuses, he talks again, “Aye, sunnies at night, in a pub”.

Your mouth opens but no further excuses come out, and he’s still got that stupidly good looking grin on his lips when he pushes himself off the table and moves closer to you again. If someone looked over now they’d definitely think you were a couple. How the hell did this even start? “C’mon, lass. Take ‘em off.”

You don’t get to argue this time, because as the words leave his lips, his hands reach up and gently pull your glasses off. You take a slow deep breath through your nose, trying your best to ignore the way your stomach churns with nervousness at the idea of being more vulnerable than you already feel.

The smirk returns to Johnny’s lips when his eyes can finally make direct contact with yours, his irises seaming an even more vibrant blue now that the polarization can’t mute them. He neatly folds them to place them in his pocket, one of his hands finding your waist to pull you closer, being careful to avoid causing any unwanted attention from any of his acquaintances.

“Look how bonnie ye’re”, he murmurs in a tone so amused that it makes you doubt if he means it or just says it to mock you. His free hand moves up, his index finger landing under your chin to tilt your head back, looking down at you with a gaze that makes your knees weak. He has to know how much power he has over you, how easy he gets you to do whatever he wants.

“You suck”, you murmur with a light huff, it mostly comes out lighthearted, but it’s partially heartfelt, mostly because you hate the way you can’t help but lean into his touch. You don’t understand it, you don’t understand why it feels right with him of all people. It’s not just about the different backgrounds, it’s how different you’re in every other way. You can’t explain what he sees in you, but you like this thing too much to have the guts to really tell him to fuck off.

“Yeah? What are ye gonna do ‘bout it, hen?” He teases, lowering his voice to that tone that makes your brain short circuit, tilting his head so he’s leaning closer and invading your personal space. You can feel his breath against your skin, the warmth radiating from him, the way his thumb tenderly brushes against your chin.

You’re convinced now, he has to know the effect he has on you, for sure. There’s no way you’re really hiding how your body gravitates towards him instinctively. “You’re way too cocky, you know that?” you ask with a little scoff, trying to convince yourself as much as him of how confident you supposedly feel.

The reality is that if anything, he’s the one making you feel safe and confident now, because you quickly discard the idea of pulling back from him and heading to the bar for a drink on your own to make a point, not feeling bold enough to shuffle through the crowd.

“Oh, I'm aware, lass.” Johnny retorts with his stupidly good-looking smirk. He’s still doing it, holding you close, giving you that look. “‘S part of my charm, right?” There’s something in the way he looks down at you, in how his head lightly tilts to the side. He’s in control, he always is, and it just makes the palm of your hands feel sweaty.

“If that helps you sleep at night”, you retort, trying to reflect his teasing tone, to portray yourself as confident and playful as he always is. But internally you’re screaming at yourself because why won’t you just step back and pull away, set a bit more space between the both of you. It’s like your mind gives the order while your body does its own bidding. And that’s when it begins, when you start to feel stupid for not doing something, anything. For not being more like him.

“I sleep just fine, bonnie”, the scott replies, followed by an amused scoff, the smirk still there. He seems to revel in the situation, how he easily traps you between him and the wall, how he keeps you close to him with barely any effort. He can sense your internal conflict, see the way your eyes flee around the room, and he can’t help but find it endearing. “Are ye getting nervous, hen?”

“Oh, fuck off”, you huff, once more playing it off as playful, giving an eye roll that makes your decision seem more confident. And surprisingly, you manage to do something this time, even if that something is only turning your head to look at something, anything else, but him.

A chuckle leaves him, and you two are so close that you can almost feel the vibration of his chest against yours. “What, can’t handle it, lass?” Johnny taunts you, his tone sarcastic as he watches your gaze turn away from him. He’s amused by it, he always is, maybe that’s why he keeps you around. “C’mon, don’t get shy now”.

You can feel your stomach churn, something in the sarcastic tilt of his voice, the fun he seems to have with your anxiousness, being enough for your body to finally respond as you take a step back to try and create some more space between you. “I don’t know why I came”, and despite saying it in a slightly exaggerated tone to make it sound like banter, there’s more honesty than you’d like to admit in the words.

You know you’ll be exhausted by the time you get home, with the way your mind is rushing and your chest tightening, you’ll feel emotionally hungover for the next couple of days. You liked being with Johnny, you really did, and you knew a part of you really enjoyed the teasing. There was something to the trepidation your complex relationship caused that kept pulling you in. But at the same time you despised it.

It wasn’t because of him, but rather how none of his answers ever seemed definitive, always teasing, always changing. You hated it because of the way it fed that nasty little voice in the back of your head. The one that was adamant on how you didn’t belong together, the one that kept reminding you about how different you two truly were. That same one that would bombard you late at night, once you were all curled up in bed, ripping sleep from you as your mind flooded with thoughts of how he’d leave soon, how he’d grow tired of you. Afterall, the back and forth could only be amusing for so long, right? Johnny would eventually find someone he truly belonged with and you’d be discarded.

You’re too deep into your thoughts to notice the way his lips pull into a grin, how he follows right behind you despite your step back. His lips are barely a couple centimeters away from your ear, his hand finding its place on your waist once more, his grip a bit firmer than before but not too tight. “I think we both ken why”, he murmurs in a low voice, his eyes still focused on yours, making you feel like he can look straight into your soul.

He knows how you feel, loving to push and pull to see how far he can take it, how long you’ll hold off before putting him in his place. “Ye can’t get enough of me, can ye, bonnie?”. You can’t help it when you roll your eyes, not so much to keep the playful appearance this time, but rather as a reflex when the little voice just grows louder in your mind. It’s not like you wanted to give your doubts any validity, but the teasing tone in his words, the ever-present smirk on his lips… Maybe it was just a game for him, a cat-and-mouse pursuit where he’d eventually catch you, and then discard you as soon as it was done. It was just a matter of time before he forgot about you.

You keep your head to the side, looking at the dart game going on in the other corner of the pub, at the rowdy groups occupying the booths and the pool table and the constant influx of patrons that moved in and out for a smoke. Whatever kept you from looking at him or thinking of how ridiculous it had been to come to this place.

“Look at me,” Johnny says, his voice firmer this time as it pierces through the surrounding noise. His free hand comes up, his touch gentle when he takes hold of your chin, but still firm as he turns your head so you’ll focus on him. He can tell you’re lost in your thoughts, notice the way the self-doubt and insecurities bubble to the surface.

He moves a step closer, and you can feel the brush of his chest against yours now, “Stop overthinking. Jus’ look at me, hen”. Your head goes with the flick of his wrist and before you can think about it, the moment your eyes find his, the words spill out, much more honest than they had been before. “I shouldn’t have come”.

You can’t catch yourself in time and you try to muster up any excuse, any funny retort to give it the banter-y tone you should’ve kept. But it’s too late, because his gaze softens and his grip on your chin loosens a bit. He knows. Johnny can tell you’re conflicted, can feel the way your words become heavy with uncertainty. He doesn’t let you retreat, though.

Instead he takes another step closer, closing the remaining distance between you, his body now flush against yours as he keeps his eyes on yours. “Ye’re here now”, the scott says, his voice steady, much more than yours has been all night. “So stop overthinkin’ and focus on me.”

“Easier said than done”, you mutter, but you stay in place. You don’t pull back or move away, despite the way the little demeaning voice tells you to. Despite the light tremble in your hands and the way your stomach churns with nerves. This time it’s you giving the order to stay in place, even when your whole body screams at you to pull away.

Johnny notices your trembling, the way your body betrays your facade of calmness. He sees all of it, the nervous tension on your features, the slight tremble on your hands and chin. And he loves it, all of it, excited to see when you’ll snap back.

He knows you’re resisting the urge to pull away, how you hold onto conviction and stay in place. You both do, your gazes locked. It’s a battle of wills now. With a smirk, he decides to push just a little bit more. “Stop thinkin’. Start feelin’, lass”.

A small huff leaves you, a sarcastic retort about how you would have never thought about it if it weren’t for his help dying on your tongue, because the insecurity has comfortably made up camp on your chest now. “As if it was that easy”, is the closest you manage to grumble, with less bite than you would’ve liked.

But you can’t help it, can’t make it more sharp or decisive, because the way his stupid smirk pulls the corner of his lips just makes bile rise on your stomach. The voice has convinced you now, it’s all a game. A dumb cat-and-mouse game where you’re always the prey, not only that, but the one that gets caught time and time again. The voice is screaming at you, telling you to realise that a game like that never ends well for the mouse.

Johnny’s grin widens, because he knows you’re battling your own thoughts, but he also knows how to get a rise out of you. It’s just a matter of time before you bite back. He steps even closer, trapping you between his warm body and the wall behind you, both hands on either side of your waist now, “Stop resisting, bonnie. Ye’re only fooling yerself”.

You have to look away this time, because maybe on a different night you would have enjoyed the thrill of not knowing how serious any of this was, the constant push-and-pull and being poked at. But right now all you can do is feel stupid for ever thinking you had a real chance.

Somehow it was always fun for him, he could go as far as he wanted. You could bite back every time if you wanted to, start banter as much as he did, and he’d always take it in stride before dishing it back. It seemed like, no matter what, it was only you being left to deal with a heavy chest and a knot on your throat by the end of the night.

You’d usually take it, deciding that it was worth it, that the thrill of the adrenaline pumping through your veins made up for all the fears that took over once you were back home. But right now all you could feel was like you could throw up any minute.

His smirk faded into a light frown, his grip loosening a bit, becoming more gentle. He could sense that something was off, it wasn’t like your usual banter, you would have already put him in his place if it was. The scott takes in your expression, noticing the way you avoid his gaze.

There’s something different this time, something more than just your usual back-and-forth, something deeper than you being out of your comfort zone. He takes a step back, creating some space between you, but staying close enough to still touch you. “What’s going on, bonnie?”

That’s all it takes to make you feel like your heart has dropped, because he has noticed now. He has seen you, all weak and vulnerable and nothing like him. The knot on your throat tightens at the same time the bile burns the back of your throat. “I need some fresh air”, you mumble, barely loud enough to hear over the pub’s noise.

You don’t give him time to answer, barely any time to process your words even, before you’re walking past him, your head low as you manage to weave through the crowd and out the door.

[catboybiologist]

do you have any advice for arguing with people who are only passively transphobic?

in a conversation about trans rights they compared trans people to people changing their race and im not experienced enough to actually put into words why that’s wrong

-a cis dude

I've had this one sitting in my inbox a bit, but my thoughts drifted back to it.

First off, this is not "passive" transphobia. This is active transphobia. If they've heard or are using an argument like that, it means they've spent at least some time evaluating their views about trans people, and actively chose to use that argument.

Second off, with that in mind, realize that they are not arguing in good faith. You won't convince them. Not in a couple minutes of conversation, not with a snappy retort. I have a deep nuanced answer to this. I usually don't bother arguing this point, but I do argue about "biologically female" a lot, and in my experience, they don't want to hear any nuanced argument. In fact, they think nuance is a point against you. If it can't be explained "simply", then it's no longer "common sense" and they don't care.

So. Yeah. In general, it's best to assess whether you even should engage in the first place, before you engage.

That said, what is the nuanced argument?

Full disclosure on my perspective, I'm a white, American trans woman, have lived in the US my whole life. I have some immigrant family and friends from various backgrounds. I'm just explaining my perspective here, since there's many nuances that I wont be the best person to talk about, so I welcome correction and additional perspective.

Two things to say here.

First, a spicy take, apparently: I think you can be trans racial. Just, not in the way that people like to think.

Race, like so-called "biological sex", is a set of artificially constructed categories formed from a random collection of physical traits. Which physical traits are chosen as "racial", as well as which traits belong to which race, is dependent on the society you're living in. As culture changes, or as an individual moves through different cultures, there race will often change, making them, in a sense, "trans racial".

Immigrant culture is probably the clearest example of this. I'll use my family history. It's a limited perspective, but I don't want to speak to other people's experiences.

My heritage is from a region of Europe that would probably start shit in my notes just by mentioning it. Racial differences for my family have been perceived based on MUCH different criteria than they have been stateside. Wars and genocides have been enacted over that perception. Those racial categories are "real", not in the sense that they represent innate biological differences, but that they have real effects on how someone navigates through a particular society. If my family had not immigrated, I would be considered a different "race" than people of nearby countries, or within that same country.

And yet. All of that is gone for me. My racial experience is that of a white american. I don't even have an accent. I can keep in touch with my heritage, and I try to, but my "race" as it affects my position in american society, is fully that of a white american. Since I'm born here, it's always been that way. Everyone who would be considered a different race back where my family is from, would probably all be considered white (or "ambiguous" in some cases) here.

Already, this contrasts with immigrant experiences even within my family- treatment dramatically changes depending on where you are, and how much you "assimilate".

I'm only using my background as an example because I don't want to speak for anyone else's experience. No, I'm not saying I'm "trans racial" because someone in my family is an immigrant, I'm just trying to provide a framework from my experience. It's a limited perspective, because my appearance is white. But there are many, MANY other examples. Take someone from India: a massive, consolidated subcontinent with hundreds of thousands of ethnic and cultural distinctions... That are all treated much, much differently when you move that to a different country.

"But Sierra," I hear you say, "this analogy really breaks down when making one to one comparisons. Are you really saying that being something, like a particular race or gender, is solely a function of how society treats you? How does this support transgender identities? Like, someone can't just 'become' black or whatever. I get what you said earlier, but there's still a limited scope of how someone can 'transition' between races in that framework."

An excellent point, which brings me to the next point. Disclaimer, it's kind of stolen from Contrapoints.

Both race and gender are societal frameworks based on pieces of information about an individual, either sex characteristics/presentation, or arbitrary "ethnic" traits.

The difference between these two, however, is who has experience with them. Ethnic groups are, by definition, groups of people with familial lineages and culture shared between them.

Masculinity and femininity, however, are shared experiences for all of humankind. A white person will never have the lifelong experience of being treated as a black person. However, every human being, even cisgender people, are exposed to the enforcement of gender, sex characteristics different than their own, and the policing of those categories. Every single person on this planet has varying degrees of "male" and "female", "man" and "woman", and everything that is neither or both, and has been treated accordingly at different points in their life. The same is not necessarily true about race. Even though biologically, racial differences are essentially nothing (humans are actually a very genetically bottlenecked species), society picks out it's treatment of what it determines to be race, and those experiences become isolated.

Again. These are my thoughts as a white person. If this is trivializing, or poorly represents something, or if I should be corrected, PLEASE let me know. It is, however, an interesting topic.

But crucially, as I mentioned earlier, it's a nuanced topic. And a nuanced answer will get you nowhere with someone arguing in bad faith.

[blitzbuckz]

【𐂃】 as they gradually grew into their adolescent phase, he did overtime change his clothing style — wearing attires that no longer matched with his twin anymore. fixating on his best friend at the time; he started to wear more black clothing. spike collars. even merchandise from the King of Greed. Wherever the spotlight took Fizz, he was sure to follow quickly right after.

Nevertheless, it didn't meant he valued his sister any less. He still slept in the same tent along side her, maybe not in the same bed like when they were younger — but he still remained within sight. Checking in with her when time allowed it; when he wasn't so busy fending Fizz from his creepy fans or hanging out with him. His twin was always in his mind, even now, not a day goes by where he's not thinking about his significant other. Cursing himself for taking her for granted. wishing he managed his time better back then, maybe then she would of believed him instead of their drunkard father.

The assassin continued reminiscing; pouring out his suppressed self-hate for the second time. he had done it before with Millie, but never to this extent. this open. feeling closer to his twin, he grew compel to confide in them — however, no sooner did he temporarily regretted that decision. The loud strike of the mug on the table's surface prompted him to quickly release his iced coffee to retreat into his seat. lowering himself as far as he could with hunched shoulders, eyes widened in mere fright.

❝ I'm sorry. ❞ he fleetingly heaved, unable to hear the distant "HEY! You'll have to pay for that!" from the cafe's cashier — given he was too fixated feeling the wrath of his twin weighing him down. However, what he thought was animosity... was anything but that. He held onto her every word as he slowly let himself sink deeper && deeper under the table. Trying to shield himself from any possible retaliation, but to no avail succeeding when he was brought back up by a tug of his chest.

With gritting fangs his hands latched onto his suit just a few inches apart where they were gripping. being careful enough not to add on to his twin's fumes any more than he already had; he didn't dare to say or act on it. Letting them finish first before thinking up of a response. Which, honestly, he was rendered speechless for awhile. He did scrunched up his face when the hard pokes were given, but nothing jabbed harder than the truth. her perspective.

Flopping back down on his seat he fixed his collar, eyes glistening as if it was everything he wanted to hear && then some.

❝ shit — I . . . I had no idea y' felt this way. I didn't meant t' let my guts spill like that. Without mom an' you around, I spent years grieving by myself over it. It doesn't go away overnight an' . . . I guess reunitin' with ya caused me t' speak my mind without thinkin'. Since, y'know, we used t' be so close. we used t' say everything t' each other, but . . . yeah, you're right. that was fuckin' shitty of me an' I should have known better. Once a sot, always a sot. ❞ brushing off his shoulders he then tossed a weak smile, small, but genuine.

❝ It waaas pretty funny when we played "booze keep away" with that bastard. He did ended up blowin' a gasket an' made us clean the horse pens, but it was fuckin' worth it. ❞

It was same for Barbie. She had loved her life in their family owned circus. She was happy to have her whole family there, all the circus people, Fizz included. It had it's ups and downs of course, which is why Barbie as a teenager got to find her a new friend circles. Seeing her brother developing some weird relationship with Fizz, Barbie did feel like she was third wheeling when they hangout together, eventually just declining their offer of 'doing something fun'. It did hurt Barbie a little but seeing Blitzø actually enjoying Fizzarolli's company, and knowing how much shit their dad was causing for her twin, she didn't have a heart to ever bring this up. Not like she was, too, jealous or anything. She loved to see her twin happy and Fizz as well. Which is why Barbie started declining their offer of 'hanging out' more often as the time went by which led her eventually find herself someone else to hangout with... which was the start of the downfall for Barbie.

Did she miss the old times? In a way yeah. She missed the times she and Blitzø were hanging together, she misses their mom a whole lot. Times were as good as it could have been back then... but now Barbie was sitting in a café, listening Blitzø talk, while trying to keep herself calm. Push all the anger aside. Which was not easy after Blitzø just raised his voice a little while defending at ugly little imp back at the camp.

Barbie held the coffee mug between her fingers, her tail was moving slowly side to side as she was slowly getting more annoyed while Blitzø kept going and going. Too bad his sister didn't know how to comfort anyone these days no matter if she got worried over someone-...

"The fuck are you on? Seriously!?" Barbie finally hit the mark when she had enough of this self-hating pity party. Sure Barbie hated herself as much as Blitzø hated himself but she would never let it show by words, it was more like drowning her sorrows in booze and drugs type of thing for her.

Barbie slammed the mug on the table, hard, that is got some cracks on it "I don't know how fucking bad your memory is or what fucking long term memory loss you are struggling with but fuck off with that bullshit. Dad had ALWAYS been a drunk bastard, I remember him drinking ever since we were little toddlers and weren't even part of the circus act yet! He always had to have his daily dose of alcohol which is one reason we struggled money-wise at times! It was not only because of you so shove that shit back up in your ass" Barbie slammed her hands on the table and stood up.

"How fucking much longer are you gonna compare your talents on Fizz's anyways!? No one, and I mean NO ONE can compete with him on clown act! Dad knew it yet he still had to throw you two on stage together! He didn't care of the circus life wasn't for you at all and yet kept taking it on you!" yes Barbie was aware of some shit their dad had done to Blitzø, like hitting him. How many times? That she didn't know but she had witnessed Cash laying his hands on his twin few times, but had been too scared of saying anything. "The only fucking shit that drunk asswipe cared for was Fizz, the money he brought in.... literally everything except us. If this doesn't make you hate the bastard then I suggest you go and get professional help!" yes Barbie was mad, yes she did care very loudly and aggressively here.

"And you just made it sound like you set the fucking circus on fire on purpose! Are you not listening yourself talk!? You actually wanted Fizz to get hurt or mom die while dad probs run as fast to save his stack of cash and booze!?" Barbie took a hold on Blitzø's chest, pulling him up over the table. "Get your fucking shit together and stop swimming in that pool of self pity. Hell I have never seen someone's dick shrivel up and turn into pussy as fast as now" Barbie let go of Blitzø after giving few pokes on his forehead. During a rehab Barbie had taken some anger management but there was just some things that made her lose it with a snap. She hated talking about their past, even tho she was the one who brought their dad up first.

".... Sorry" Barbie mumbled under her breath, she didn't mean to go this far but at least she didn't punch Blitzø in the face as she was intend to.

[sunset-hourglass]

So I was listening to a song called Lagtrain by Inabakumori yesterday (It's a wonderful song, you can listen to it here) And I hyper focused on one of the frames and went "Huh...Y'know I could see Siffrin here." And then, well, I tried to draw it! Here's the frame specifically:

And here's the piece I made from it (Spoiler warning, just in case!):

Featuring (from right to left) Siffrin, Loop, Mal Du Pays, and what is supposed to be Ghost Siffrin! I figured I could spin the original frame into the different versions of Siffrin, since there's only really four I could recall from the game! (I know the arms are a little funky, but I tried,,)

[anzuhan]

[sylvrndoodles]

sleeping beauty

[bandanad33]

Hiiii I made a core picrew if u wanna check that out I think that would be super cool <3