#I’m tempted to write more but I’m so tired lmao

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Steve Harrington’s favorite smell was freshly made bread. Specifically banana bread. When he was younger his Mother and Grandmother would make some form of bread every Sunday morning for church. He remembers how the scent would move to his room, waking him up from a deep sleep.

During Christmas it was Cherry bread, during Halloween it was pumpkin. Sometimes if they got adventurous they would mix chocolate chips into it as well. That was most commonly for special occasions though.

After his grandmother passed away, there was no more bread. No more special occasions with chocolate chips. His mother stopped baking all together and stayed hidden in her bedroom. Her normal smell, a soft strawberry scent, changed rotten.

As Steve got older, when he presented as an omega, the smell of other Alphas was overwhelming to him. It was to strong. It wasn’t like the warm comforting smell of bread. He found himself always getting a headache instead.

Then, part way through the school year a smell started to hit him. One that reminded him of chocolate chip pumpkin bread. It wasn’t exactly that but it was close enough that Steve’s mouth and eyes began to water. He had to take a few minutes in the bathroom before he felt comfortable enough to not cry in math class.

As each day passed the smell started to get stronger, not in a bad way. It began to shift between scents as well. Some days it was chocolate pumpkin bread, others it was just pumpkin and then on rare occasions it would shift into mint chocolate chip. Steve was slowly beginning to realize it was rare for the chocolate smell to not be there, on whoever it was.

He assumes that the smell belonged to another omega, whom typically have sweeter smells. So he went to search for who it belonged to. It takes weeks to pin point a select few. It was between Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Tommy Hagen and a complete wild card, Eddie Munson. He can’t ever pin point who it was, and when the smell is near those were normally the people in the same room as him.

He discovers in math that Robin smells like bananas. Though she wasn’t the smell he was searching for his omega still wanted to be near her nothing-less. Then there was Nancy, who smelt like fresh mint. Similar to toothpaste. He wasn’t sure if that was the smell. Too nervous to go up to her, she was a smart and pretty alpha and he wasn’t the brightest omega around. Tommy Hagen smelt like cream soda, it attracted his omega up until he got closer. The smell would be too strong and he was quickly eliminated.

Finally it left him to Eddie Munson. The last person he needed to check. He moves himself awkwardly through the woods, nearly tumbling over a tree root here and there. When he finally makes it to the picnic table, the one he’s only heard about through passing teenagers. He could smell the faint smell of pumpkin. As if the person had been there moments prior.

Hesitant, he moves slowly. Looking around to make sure he wasn’t about to be jumped. He then sets his stuff down at the table, moving to sit like he had been told to by carol. Who’s gotten stuff from Munson in the past, and he waits.

It doesn’t take longer than ten minutes for the smell of fresh chocolate chip pumpkin bread to hit his face. His mouth watering a bit as he turns his head to see who it was coming from.

It was Eddie. Who was currently shoving half a brownie in his face, very ungracefully. Some of the chocolate smearing on the side of his mouth as he jumps startled. Like he had been caught red handed for theft. He tilts his head curiously before he begins to basically prance his way to the table with a chocolaty smile.

Nothing about the Alpha was coordinated. His limbs moved awkwardly, and he didn’t seem to be able to sit still. Even as he begins to talk his mouth was still full. Steve didn’t understand a word he said.

“What?” He asks shyly. Fidgeting with his shirt a bit. He was tempted to get up and leave. He now knew where the scent was coming from. Mystery solved. He could move on. But his omega wanted to stay. Stay wrapped in the comforting smell he has been seeking out for weeks.

Eddie’s face goes a soft red, swallowing the brownie before he coughs a little. Then clears his throat before trying again. “Sorry- I um.. just took an edible. Wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so I thought I would chill out here and enjoy the high.“ he laughs awkwardly.

Steve makes an oh face, moving to stand up. “Oh sorry, I can go. I don’t even know why I came out here. I uh-“ he starts to ramble out.

He was nervous. He doesn’t know why. He’s made numerous alphas almost cry from his bitchy remarks. Made sure that they knew he wasn’t some shy dumb omega looking for a knot. But here he was stumbling over himself like a moron. He wasn’t looking for a knot but his omega seemed to be without his knowledge.

Eddie’s face softens a bit before he stands up himself. Putting his hands forward. “No, no you don’t have to leave. I just didn’t expect royalty is all. What can I do for you?”

Steve bites his lip realizing he doesn’t know. He didn’t actually plan on buying anything. But he also didn’t want to tell the other the real reason for being out here. His face grows red before he shrugs.

“I uh.. actually don’t know if I’m honest. I kind of just wandered and found myself here.” He admits, watching the other carefully tilt his head. Eddie opens his mouth, before closing it. Letting a soft ‘Hmph’ out, as if he were stumped.

“Well…” Eddie drags out carefully. “You can always just chill out here with me if you want. I’ll just be high off my ass.”

Steve nods his head before hesitantly sitting down again. “What do you normally do out here anyway?” He asks curiously. He wants to start a small conversation with the other.

Eddie grins as if he’s waited to be asked that his entire life. “Well I mostly sell here, but on occasion I like to get high and just sit and appreciate nature. It clears my head, you know?” He hums out. Leaning forward slightly as his eyes never leave Steve. As if he wanted to hear everything he had to say and actually cared.

Steve nods his head with a soft smile, “yeah,” he says gently. He was beginning to understand what Eddie meant. There wasn’t much that cleared Steve’s head. Not even basketball fully did that for him. But right now, sitting across from Eddie pretty much swimming in his scent his head felt the clearest it’s ever been.

Swimming had always been Steve’s favorite sport.

As time went on and they slowly talked, Steve watches in real time as Eddie gets more giggly. His eyes slowly growing red and how more lively the other was becoming. The way his hands flew out to grasp his chest playfully before he fell off the bench. Not caring about the leaves that get tangled in his curls or the possibility of getting hurt.

What captivated Steve the most was how the alphas scent slowly changed. It kept shifting between the familiar pumpkin to a mint chocolate chip smell. Unable to stay on one smell for longer than a few minute’s. It was like his pheromones had a base case of ADHD as well.

Steve’s smile was wide, he felt high himself just being in the other males presence. He rambles about nonsense with the other. About the birds in the trees, the leaves that were changing color, DnD, and even discussing stories about parties going wrong.

Eddie couldn’t sit still Steve notices. His hands were fidgeting with his rings, his legs bounced and his head body was always swaying back and forth just a little.

“Dude you’re so high,” Steve laughs out. Nose scrunching up as he smells the others scent changing again. He enjoyed it, never able to get bored.

Eddie giggles in response, his eyes nearly closed as he stumbles off his seat. Nearly falling on his face. He lands on his knees and flops down. He lays on his stomach, cheek pressed against the dirt as he blinks slowly at Steve.

Steve was slightly worried the other was going to fall asleep on him. So, just in case he moves to sit a couple of inches away from the other. Watching how the other tilts his head up, dopily, to keep his eyes on him. His heart melts a little, the other reminds him of a sleepy puppy.

The thought of pups makes his heart do flips.

This was the dorkiest alpha he has ever met.

“So, how long do edibles normally affect you?” He asks curiously, moving his fingers mindlessly through the pile of leaves next to him. Not looking back at the other, afraid that if he met the others heated stare he might do something stupid.

“Oh, a couple of hours.” Eddie hums gently. “But don’t worry, you don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to.” He yawns gently. He then shifts his right knee up higher, closer to his chest.

Steve snorts, looking up from the ground as he raises an eyebrow at the other.

“Eddie you could barely walk without falling on your face,” he points out. He can’t help but wonder how the alpha did this by himself all the time.

“Hm, they don’t normally hit me this hard.” Eddie comments, opening his mouth to say something else but stops.

After a moment of silence he finally caves and adds on. “I think you may be the reason why I’m falling on my face sweetheart. Your scent is like a high on its own.”

Steve could tell the other wasn’t fully processing what he was saying. That still doesn’t stop his face from growing red.

He smiles shyly, “yeah? What do I smell like?”

Eddie hums, his face screwing up in thought. “You smell like fresh brownies. Like the best weed brownies I’ve ever made but better.” He says confidently. He then lifts his head up as he asks, “what do I smell like?”

Steve doesn’t understand how Eddie’s eyes were getting so red. He would be slightly worried if the other didn’t seem to be enjoying himself so much.

“Well, your smell kind of changes. It was chocolate pumpkin bread, now it’s a mint chocolate chip but I’m sure it’ll go back to pumpkin soon.” Steve laughs softly. “It’s part of the reason I ended up wandering out here.” He finally admits. He felt more comfortable with the other, trusted the other wouldn’t be mean.

Eddie’s grin grows as he pushes himself up off the ground. He slowly crawls closer to Steve, completely unaware of personal space. His hair moves around a bit, sending a gust of his scent Steve’s way. He stays a few inches away but he smelt stronger being this close. It was making Steve light headed. His omega makes a soft content chirp in response. Steve thinks he might die.

“Really?” Eddie asks. His body falls to the ground again, his head just inches away from lying in Steve’s lap.

“Yeah.” Steve stutters out. He wants to put his hands in this oblivious alphas hair, and nose in his neck. He’s never wanted anything more in his life.

Eddie smiles dumbly up at the other, lifting a finger to poke at Steve’s neck. Pressing against where his mating mark would be someday.

“That’s cool, you have to freckles right here. As if it’s marking the spot for your mate.” Eddie says casually. Getting distracted from what Steve said. Moving his hand back, hair getting tangled in more leafs

Steve can’t hold himself back anymore. He moves a hand down and carefully pulls a twig from the others hair. Ignoring, for the moment, how Eddie’s eyes closed. His face and body relaxing fully for the first time they’ve been out here. When he finally gets it pulled out, he brings his hands back in his lap.

He then watches amused as Eddie lets a pathetic whine out. “That felt nice.” Eddie says sleepily.

Steve desperately wants this alpha in his bed. Not in a sexual manner but for cuddling purposes.

“Yeah?” Steve teases as he watches the other scramble around a bit. Sees how focused the other’s face was before he flops his head down in Steve’s lap. Like a care free dog.

Steve can’t help but let out a giggle, not fully understanding how he got here. But he catches the others hint and begins to play with his hair. Carefully scratching at his scalp.

He watches as the other begins to fall asleep. A soft purr leaving him. Steve’s never heard an alpha purr before. Didn’t even know it was a thing.

Instead of saying anything he stays silent and keeps playing with the other’s hair until it began to grow dark.

“Eddie,” Steve whispers gently. Hesitatingly brushing a hand against the alphas face in hopes of waking him up slowly.

It seems to do the trick as Eddie wakes up almost immediately. His eyes glossy with sleep, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks up at Steve confused. “Huh?” He sounds groggy. His scent changing to a fresh bread smell.

Steve bites his lip amused. “You fell asleep on me.” He teases.

Eddie’s face grows red as he quickly moves up. Pulling away to sit up, rubbing his eyes carefully. “I’m so sorry, that doesn’t normally happen. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He rambles out.

Steve shakes his head, “it’s alright. I didn’t mind.” He was sleepy himself now. Meeting Eddie’s eyes who land back on his. Neither of them know what to do with themselves.

Eddie decides a hug is the thing to do. He crawls over and wraps his arms around Steve, awkwardly and pats his shoulders. His neck shoving its way in Steve’s face, leaving him no room but to get the full scent blasted in his face. He wants to stay like this forever. Before he can say as such Eddie is pulling away and stumbling over himself awkwardly. His words not comprehendible before he leaves the woods.

[spookwyrdie]

Riled Up

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}

Bang Chan x Reader x Han Jisung

word count: 1.2k

summary: You were going to be in a lot of trouble when you got home if the way Chan was staring daggers at you across the bar was any indicator. But the dance floor was so tempting, Jisung’s arms wrapped around your waist were so inviting, and the music was made for swaying your hips against him. Chan will have to show you both who you belong to.

genre: smut, power play

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, jealousy, threesome,

a/n: branching out from femdom to write about jealousy feels very apt for me rn lmao. i don't want han has a bias wrecker....BUT THE PARASITES....THE DEMONS in me want han as a bias wrecker

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

Jisung is already on his way to the dance floor as the DJ starts playing one of his favorite songs. You turn to Chan.  

“Come on, let’s go dance!” you said, tugging on his sleeve. 

“No, sweet thing, I’m a little tired tonight.” He brushes you off, taking a sip of his whisky on the rocks. You know how hard he’s been working lately; tonight was supposed to help him unwind, get out of his head a little. You pout, pulling out all the stops, trying to get him to come with you. 

“Pleeeeease?” 

“Why don’t you go dance with Ji? He’s already out there on the floor,” Chan says, nodding towards Jisung, who had already started shaking his hips to the beat. Chan takes your chin in his hand to give you a little peck on your pouting lips and sends you on your way. You throw one last pleading look over your shoulder as you get up, but Chan grins, a stubborn glint to his eyes. 

Fine, if he wants you to go dance with Jisung, you’ll do exactly that. You make sure to add an extra sway to your hips as you walk away from the table where everyone is lounging, knowing Chan won’t be able to take his eyes off you.  

You toss your arms around Jisung’s neck once you make your way to the floor. He grins wide when he sees you, giving you a big hug.  

“Y/n!”  

“Hey Ji!” you shout over the music into his ear. “You mind helping me make Chan a little jealous?” 

Jisung looks over at where Chan was sitting, leaning back in his chair, watching the two of you with a satisfied look on his face. “Sure! You know I love seeing that guy crack.” 

Jisung pulls you into his arms and soon you fall into a rhythm, your hips in unison. He presses you closer until there’s no room between your bodies. The bass pounds through you as you feel his body moving against yours. Running your hands over Jisung’s body as you dance, you use him as a prop for your seduction of the man sitting across the room. You make sure to trail your fingers down Ji’s chest, spinning around and leaning your back against him, you roll your hips into him while making direct eye contact with Chan. The way his eyes bore into you, sitting forward, glowering, makes you giddy. You smile at him, challenging him.  

Jisung was a great partner in crime, his hand slinks around your body to rest on your lower belly, gently pressing your pelvis back into him, grinding you down onto him. You gasp a little at how tantalizingly close he is to your core. His hand slides over the thin fabric of your dress, his fingertips brush against the edge of the elastic of your panties. He groans, hooking his chin over your shoulder. You turn your head to look at him, but his eyes are not on you in this moment. You follow his gaze.

He’s staring at Chan across the room, a daring gleam thick in his eyes, goading him to the dance floor. He’s enjoying putting you on display as much as you enjoy riling up Chan. 

The music changed from high energy to something darker, more sultry. You turned back towards Jisung, foreheads basically touching. Your hand roamed to the back of his head, plunging your fingers into his wavy hair. Groaning into your touch, he readjusts to slot a thigh between your legs. You gasp as his hands on your hips press you down on his thigh, only a few layers of fabric between your core and his skin. You’re so close to him, looking up under your long lashes you watch as something playful and wicked flits across his face. He bites down on his lip as he smiles at you, giving you a slight nod.  

Jisung’s fingers sink into your plush hips, and you feel him pull gently, encouraging you to rock against him. Desire floods through you, gasping at the slow friction you’re building between your bodies, getting lost in the rhythm of the pulsing music. You and Jisung are pressed together so close, you felt your heart flutter a little bit as he huffed a laugh against your skin. He tilts his head in such a way that you think he’s going to kiss you – and oh, how nice that would be right now along with the hot pressure of his thigh against you. You see his eyes drift away from your face, a lazy smile stretches across his face. 

“Oh, he’s definitely riled up now.”  

You look over your shoulder to find Chan sauntering over. He looks like an animal, quietly stalking up to its prey. The look in his eyes is deadly and it makes your chest constrict with excitement at the thought. Your little show had paid off.  

He snakes an arm around you, pulling himself flush with your body, hard muscle pressing into your soft curves. Swaying back and forth with you to the music, he buries his face in your hair, growling in your ear, “I said dance with Jisung, not fuck him on the dance floor.” 

You turn to meet his eyes, mischief radiating from your smile, “Jisung was a great suggestion, I got carried away with the music.”  

You peck him on the cheek with that. His grip on you gets tighter and you arch back, grinding your ass directly into him, feeling his cock already half hard. He hisses at the contact, placing a strategic kiss right underneath your ear, grazing it with his teeth. Your eyes flutter as you gasp and your head lolls to the side, giving him more access to your neck. 

Your body is sandwiched between Chan and Jisung, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the music. You can barely hear it anymore, you’re lost in the sensation of being pushed and pulled between these two men. Chan’s breath is hot and heavy against your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin, littering the side of your throat with angry red marks. Jisung leans back to take in the image before him, his palm drifting up your arm to your collarbone. His fingers trail gently up the opposite side of your neck, dancing along your jaw until they rest against your lips.  

Your eyes meet his as he gently presses his index and middle finger against your lips. You oblige, pulling the digits into the wet velvet of your mouth. His fingers are slightly salty as your tongue glides along them, curling around the digits. You watch his jaw drop open as you suck on his fingers, you can feel his moan resonate in your chest where you’re still pressed up against him. His hips jerk up towards your body as you pull his fingers into the heat of your mouth, his hard cock straining against his pants presses into your pelvis. Caught between these two bodies, grinding back and forth, feeling your clit drag against Jisung’s thigh while Chan sucks on your neck has you nearly fucked out on the dance floor.  

“You better take her home, hyung,” Jisung says, eyes still fixated on your mouth. “Before she gets carried away again.”  

Chan pauses his attention to your neck, glaring at Jisung, lips still hovering over your throat. 

“Watch it, Ji.” 

“Oh, I will,” he grins, his teeth shining in the low light of the club. “Couldn’t look away if I tried. 

[yeowangies]

Candy

❧

PAIRING: Vegeta/Reader RATING: Explicit CONTENTS: Explicit sexual content, Masturbation. WARNINGS: None. WORDCOUNT: 2150

Summary: Vegeta is tired of you teasing and tempting him.

Notes:

Another thing I wrote to try to get back on track with other writings, and it tured out longer than I expected.

I haven't written anything regarding masturbation and I SO wanted to write this, and I figured Vegeta was the best subject for this! Didn't think this would be over 2k words lmao.

How you found yourself underneath Vegeta after interrupting his training at the gravity chamber was kind of a funny story. Or at least it was looking at it at that moment. 

You didn’t think your little comments affected him so much; not when Bulma said things far cruder and more obscene than you did. You were doing it for the fun of it. Vegeta seemed closed to either obliterating Bulma or fucking her whenever she spoke to him, so whatever came out of your mouth was in no way expecting to end up anywhere with him. Besides, who wouldn’t fuck Bulma, right? She was the epitome of beauty. 

But apparently Vegeta didn’t agree with you, or so it seemed. Not by the way he was looking at you. You were either about to be destroyed, or fucked. Hopefully the latter. 

“You damned woman,” Vegeta spat, with a hand to your shoulder, pushing you against the cool floor, making you wince. “I’m fucking tired of your disgusting comments towards me, and now you come in here, interfering with my training!”

“I literally just came to check if you wanted to eat something…” You rolled your eyes, feigning innocence. 

“Repeat your exact words.” Vegeta pressed with narrowed eyes, digging his fingers harder on your shoulder.

“I go nuts over your candy ass…” You whispered very quietly, not because you were embarrassed, but you knew you’d laugh if you repeated it louder. “It was such an easy joke!”

“Vulgar woman!” Vegeta’s frown got deeper as his face got closer to you, and you shivered once you noticed how mad he truly was. “Vulgar pathetic little woman.”

“Ok, are you gonna keep insulting me?” You glared at him despite your nerves. 

“You deserve far worse.”

“I just said you had a cute butt! Bulma has said worse stuff, so why are you so mad at me?!”

A low growl rumbled deep inside Vegeta’s chest, and for a second you thought that was it, your life was over. But the hand on your shoulder moved swiftly towards your neck, only tightening to make you look at him with eyes wide open, still allowing you to breathe normally. Both of your hands went to grab his forearm on instinct, afraid he was actually going to choke you to death. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” 

“Huh?”

“I cannot stand the sight of you!” Vegeta raised his voice as his eyes got significantly darker. “You’re distracting, parading around in the most indecent tiny clothes, and you expect me to remain impassive!”

You arched your eyebrow as he went on; he was talking about the few times you bathed in the pool at Bulma’s house. But you didn’t even remember seeing him around then.

“And now you come in here, disturbing me with your presence-”

“I don’t understand.”

“Are you so dense you don’t speak your own language?” He retorted with a sardonic smirk. 

“You’re such a jerk, no! I mean I don’t get why you’re so pissed! I wasn’t even doing that ‘parading around’ on purpose! And if it bothers you so much, I won’t ever do it again!” You added, though you regretted it immediately. You wanted to use Bulma’s pool as long as it was available. 

Vegeta clicked his tongue in annoyance, averting his eyes for a brief moment before looking back at you. 

“You really are a stupid woman.”

Before you could open your mouth to insult him right back, Vegeta firmly pressed his body to yours, and as he stared into your eyes with a faint blush on his cheeks, you couldn’t help the choked out gasp from leaving your lips. 

He was hard. 

It was difficult not to notice as he pushed his crotch against your lower abdomen for a fleeting moment before pulling back, and curiosity invaded you. Was that why he was so pissed off? You had been unintentionally turning him on? You didn’t think he would pay so much attention to you, especially when you rarely even saw him; he spent most of his time training in the stupid gravity chamber you both were currently at. 

Apparently Vegeta had been looking at you much more than you thought.

“Is this your way of telling me you like me?” You asked, between shy and smug. 

“Like you?” Vegeta frowned, but you noticed how red the tip of his ears were. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Yeah, you say that, but you are the one pinning me down and pushing yourself onto me, so.”

The twitch in his eyebrow almost made you laugh if it wasn’t for the intense glare he had in his gaze. 

“You make it impossible for me to focus, your indecency is so disgusting-”

“I’m not even doing anything right now!” His hand around your throat squeezed lightly and swiftly, making you choke on the last syllable. You pouted, trying to push his buttons a little more. “So I make you hard on the regular, why is that bad?”

“Why is that-” Vegeta splurted, embarrassed. 

“Wanna show me?” You smiled, teasingly. 

Your hand on his forearm softly traveled up his arm and down his side, and your grin got wider when you noticed the blush expanding towards his face. Vegeta slapped your hand once it got to his waist and you couldn’t help but giggle. 

“You do not deserve to touch me.” Vegeta stated, still a little red, but obviously frustrated. 

“Maybe I should show you something myself then.”

When your hands slid down your front to grip your shirt, you expected Vegeta to stop you; he had been so scandalized when you tried to touch him that you figured he might prevent you from going further. But to your amusement, his eyes fixated on your moves as you pushed your shirt up until it was bunching up over your chest, presenting your breasts covered with lace. 

At least you put on a nice bra that day.

A sense of superiority washed over you when he didn’t avert his eyes. You didn’t think you would get his attention, but after everything he said you wanted to take a little advantage of him. 

You wanted to see him. 

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” You started, looking into his eyes when his gaze met yours again. His eyebrow twitched, but he didn’t reply. “You pictured me underneath you like I am right now, right?”

“You have no idea what I’ve been thinking about.”

“Then tell me.”

You smiled slyly, though Vegeta remained surprisingly impassive. Aside from the blush that still adorned his face. He removed his hand from your neck, and you found that you would have liked it if he kept it there; there was something alluring about it. The fabric of his glove touched the exposed skin of your waist, a very chaste gesture, though his eyes were fixed on your boobs. 

“Do you touch yourself, Vegeta?” You asked when he stayed silent for longer than you expected. You were going to get something out of him, for sure. 

“To my own shame, yes.” He replied, completely serious. You didn’t think he would admit it so easily and without protesting. “More frequently every time you are around.” 

The resentment in his voice only amused you more; who would be so angry because they’re horny?

Probably someone who wasn’t getting laid. 

“You told me not to touch you, but I’m still showing myself to you, Vegeta.”

He didn’t need you to explain what you meant, his gaze growing darker as he took off his glove before pulling his pants down enough to expose his cock. Your eyes immediately darted downwards, looking at his cock with a gleam; he was hard and thick, thicker than you expected when he wrapped his hand around his own erection.

“Are you really offering yourself to me, woman? Are you that obscene?” Vegeta asked, mocking you.

“Vegeta, I’ve been teasing you all this time because you’re hot and I like you.” You looked him in the eye briefly, letting him know you were honest. “Not that you need the ego boost.”

“I could kill you.”

“But you’re touching yourself instead.”

A smirk formed on his face just as he started stroking himself. 

“I suppose I could use you, since you’re so kind to present your body to me like this.” Vegeta said, voice still surprisingly calm even though his moves over his erection were firm. “If you must know, you have been on my mind since I got here.”

Your eyes, that had been focusing on his hand as he masturbated, looked up at him. 

“I pictured you as you are now, completely subdued underneath me, and for once you’re too overwhelmed to even utter one word out of that dirty mouth of yours.”

You rolled your eyes; of course a guy like this would have a thing for control. And you don’t mind submitting every now and then, but not without putting up a little bit of a fight. It simply wasn’t in your nature to be docile. 

But you were currently trying to rile him up more, show yourself off to him so he could see what could be his if he simply made a little effort. So your hands skimmed across your tummy, steadily trailing upwards until you hooked your fingers underneath your bra before slowly lifting it up, your breasts bouncing free right in front of him. The sharp intake of breath Vegeta took was audible as he stared at your chest and it only made your sense of superiority grow larger. 

“You wicked woman…” He said, voice shaky as he picked up the pace, his hand moving in rough, fast tugs. “You’ve been tempting me on purpose this whole time.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You answered with fake innocence, though you were sincere. 

“Liar.” Vegeta smirked, his breathing turning rugged with each move of his hand over his cock.

When you fixed your gaze on his cock, already leaking precum as his hand worked faster, you couldn’t help but press your thighs together, trying to create a little friction to alleviate your own arousal. Vegeta’s face was twisted, brows furrowed in a different way than usual, and the blush on his cheeks only made him look vulnerable, a contrast to his usual stoic demeanor. It was turning you on so much to see him like that, and the slick sounds produced from his own strokes was just adding fuel to the fire in your loins. 

You wanted to touch him so bad, and when the precum dripped onto your abdomen, you let out a breathy moan. His eyes were on your face, but you could only watch his hand moving firmly over his erection, trying to bring himself to completion, as more drops kept pooling around your belly. He was grunting and groaning surprisingly quietly, and you suspected that’s how he usually did it when he was alone. 

“You’re thinking about fucking me hard and fast, aren’t you? Maybe even using my tits instead of straight up putting it inside me.” You purred, pushing your breasts together, and making his eyes stare directly at your chest. 

“Is that what you want?” Vegeta asked between groans, smiling wickedly. “To be used by me?”

“Only if I get to use you as well.”

Vegeta let out what was probably a snort, attempting to dismiss your comment, but it only came out as a shaky grunt. He was getting louder and if you had to take a guess, he was just a few seconds away from coming. 

Emboldened by the sounds he was making and the expression on his face, you reached down with one of your hands, wrapping it carefully over the one he had around his cock. He didn’t push you away, only groaned, and let you move in sync with him. 

It only took a few harsh strokes to make Vegeta reach his end, and he growled louder and hoarser than ever before as he spilled his cum all over your stomach, a few droplets even reaching your chest, burning up your skin, making you moan. He let go of his cock then, but you didn’t, helping him ride out his high, moving your hand up and down carefully until he stopped leaking. He grunted and gasped, jaw tense and brows furrowed as he tried to catch his breath. 

You thought he was handsome before, but this side of him, the faces he had made the whole time, only made him much enticing, and you couldn’t wait to see more of him.

Vegeta looked at you with eyes still very much dark and clouded, and you could only smile. 

“Wanna know what I’ve been thinking about when I touch myself?” You asked him, hooking your fingers on the waistband of your pants to pull them down along with your completely soaked underwear. 

[hectorthedoggo]

oh yeah so i was slightly delirious earlier and i made this on impulse. oh boy. why did god give me a writing ability

“Pick up the knife.”

Is this fuckass creature serious? They stared at the knife, which had the Milgram logo emblazoned on it. Bro that shit’s ugly, I ain’t killing myself on that.

Seriously, who the hell designed this logo? I’m finna join Amane’s cult, at least the branding looks somewhat artistic.

Damn, wait, I can’t, she’s dead. I don’t know why the hell the voices voted everyone guilty this trial.

“C’mon, Es, let’s end this.”

Bro wants this to be symbolistic. “Um… you first?”

“What?” Jackalope was surprised by their sudden resistance. “Es, I’m still the keeper of this place. This isn’t a double suicide, it’s just you who’s supposed to die.”

“Pussy.” A word that Yuno often called Futa. It was fitting for the situation.

“What. I’m a male jackalope, what-”

Es was tempted to throw the knife at him, to let the intrusive thoughts win, but they assured themself, I’ll do that later. With more planning.

Mf killed all of my prisoners, I ain’t letting him leave this alive. I’m going out with a bang, and I’m gonna take him down with me.

If I gotta die, Milgram’s gonna die with me.

Es was a bad-

Shut, you.

WIth the power of the fourth wall, they somehow bit the voice. Wanting to die really brought out another side of people.

(The person behind the voice was sent to the hospital due to the bacteria from their bites. This child might have gotten rabies, somehow.)

They grabbed the knife, which Jackalope let out a sigh of relief. “Okay… okay! Es, c’mon, if you want to be a good warden, then just end it now.”

Es stared back at him, and grinned. They started to abruptly maniacly laugh, which scared the shit out of Jackalope. “I’m already a horrible warden; my prisoners died for crimes they didn’t deserve.”

“I- but that’s what you-”

“I have different standards than the voices. Those weren’t my verdicts.” Es broke the fourth wall again, threatening to give rabies to anyone who dared question their truth.

“Es, just-”

“The people have decided.”

“Who-”

“Chat GPT Chair oomf and crab.”

“Es. what the fuck are you talking about.”

They stared directly into the camera. “T H E Y  know exactly whan I’m talking about. They have given your guilty verdict.”

His eyes widened, as he realized what they were talking about.

“Die.” Es grabbed the knife, and immediately killed the rabbit.

His hat fell off, revealing his horns to be fake. Lmao.

They stabbed him more times than necessary. Their uniform was completely bloodstained; they were essentially a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Wolf analogies… would Kotoko be proud of me? I’ll meet her in hell ig.

They giggled like a maniac, and got kidnapped by an angel like a cat being picked up by its scruff because the author is tired of making Es kts / attempt. (this is totally not foreshadowing)

Why the hell am I in heaven? Girl I swore enough to kill an army of faries.

Despite their confustion, they lived happily ever after. Not many to none of the prisoners were in heaven with them. 

I cannot disclose who wasn’t in heaven due to wishing to not be cancelled.

The End.

[eddieschains]

Thief. JK. (That’s just kidding not Jungkook) can I get 38 with Joe? Or Billy if you’re feeling up to writing him.

or whoever you want to write it for really onkksh really wanna see 38 lmao

the way you tempted me to write this for Jungkook just because… anyways i went with Joe because i’m so scared to write for Billy 😭 hope you still like it!!!

38. “We passed “just friends” about 20 fucks ago”

You and Joe had been attached at the hip practically since you two were born. Your parents were friends, which resulted in you two basically being forced to be the same.

Growing up, you did everything together. Went on trips together, went to parties together, hell you even would do double dates together. An excessive amount. It’s probably why neither of you could keep a relationship for more than a few months. Always something about how your partners thought you had feelings for each other. You always brushed it off, saying they didn’t understand your relationship. But with time, they proved to be right.

It was a drunken night out. Your parents anniversary party. You and Joe had a little too much to drink, ended up going home with each other, and fucked in every room until neither of you could stand straight anymore.

You both thought it was a regretful decision. But for some reason, you kept doing it. Every weekend without fail to be exact. The same thing, go out, get a bit tipsy, come home, and let your sexual frustrations out on each other.

You thought it was only physical. Which was fine at first. You weren’t getting laid anywhere else, so why not do it with someone you felt the most comfortable and safe with?

But, it’s easy to get attached when you have the same man thrusting inside of you and telling you how beautiful you are every week.

You’d been avoiding Joe for weeks now. Trying to process your feelings for him. Wondering if maybe it’s just the hormones talking, or if you really do love him.

Of course you love him. But only as a friend, right? Right…?

As the weeks go by, your phone becomes flooded with more messages everyday from Joe. You always gave him some lame excuse of you being tired, or not feeling well. And when he offered to come over for support, you ghosted him.

You never had a problem that he couldn’t solve, or that you didn’t need his assistance for. He knew something was up, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. That’s probably why he was pounding on your door at 9 pm.

“Jesus i’m coming!” You yell from inside the house. You huff a sigh before opening the door, being met with a very worried looking Joe. “Joseph.”

“Y/N.” He responds, pushing his way past you and into the living room. You groan, closing the door behind him. “So… wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or do I have to guess?” He sits on the arm of the couch, arms crossed as he awaits your answer.

“Nothing is wrong, Joe. Just haven’t been feeling great.” You take a seat on the couch, hoping if you fake sick he’ll leave you alone.

“You don’t look sick.” He sits next to you, examining your face. “Are you running a fever?” He places the back of his hand on your forehead. “No…”

“Joe stop!” You spit. He stops in his tracks, placing his hand back in his lap. “God I- I just…” You trail off, not able to complete your sentence.

“Well spit it out, won’t you?” He lightly chuckles.

“I need to know what this is. What we are.” He sucks in a breath, averting his eyes from yours. “Are we just friends who fuck or are we more? I need to know because if i’m honest, i’m catching feelings. But you probably don’t feel the same way and i’m just embarrassed by the whole thi-“

He cuts you off by smashing his lips against yours. You fall back slightly, before bringing your hand to his neck and sinking into it.

“Babe… I think we passed just friends 20 fucks ago.” You let out a sigh of relief, laughing at the way he was always able to find humor in the most vulnerable moments.

“Oh thank god. You have no idea how scared I was to talk about this.” You smile.

“I could tell. If you weren’t running a fever before you might be now.” He giggles, dramatically touching your face to check.

“Well i’m feeling a bit better now…” You smirk.

smut prompts!!

He picks you up off the couch, leading you to the bedroom. “Then what are we waiting for?”

[dutifullyshamelessearthquake]

Okay I know it’s early but I READ THAT SHIT SO FAST. Broooo my heart!!! Poor poor Tighnari 🥺🥺🥺 I really like and appreciated this more vulnerable and emotional side of him. But it was also so sad poor thing!! That’s absolutely the WORST throwing up in your sleep like that?? Uhg and you perfectly captured how much his stomach was just sick sick, I want to hold him!! I ADORE how protective Cyno was, and it’s interesting to see too how Tighnaris protective ness and Cynos protectiveness varies!! With Cyno it’s like, he knows nari is more open with his emotions, and also that he frets and holds himself to high standards. So what nari needs is cyno to remain calm and reassure him and allow nari to be emotional, but also to help calm him down. Ground him a bit and assure him that he’s not going to let anything hurt him, almost like to just be a rock in a sense? And I feel like we see that with how much nari also wants to be held and also just supported by Cyno 🥺. And I love how even tho Tighnari didn’t want too Cyno knew that he’d want to be clean when sick even if he was exhausted and helped him clean up anyways 😭

but for Tighnari when cyno needs comfort it’s almost like, encouraging Cyno to feel his emotions more? I mean he still calms him down but it’s like, he validates and encourages Cyno to speak his mind and ask for his needs- but it’s not about cyno rn so I’ll leave it at that

Omg Cyno being puked on is just terrible. I don’t care how iron of a stomach you have that’s just awful and anyone would be feeling icky after that. He handled it like a champ tho!! And also now I see how this related to my ask lmao 🤣

lastly, I just have to say again I love how even when sick nari knows what to do- but It also just was so sad to see him not wanna deal with it. Hopefully the worst of it passed for him but I’m sure he got sick a few more times…one of those rough but short 24 hr things. I also love the fact that nari who knows what to do in most medical situations is just…the messiest sicky 😭😭 poor thing. Poor both of them honestly. But my heart sings when I see how cuddly they are!!! Cyno holding Tighnari all night, the protector of his peace 🥺🥺

AHH I'M SO HAPPY YOU ENJOYED IT SO MUCH!! Thank you!!

Tighnari was having SUCH a rough go of it in this one 🥺🥺 I felt so bad for putting him through this,, just the cut between being asleep and blissfully unaware to suddenly being awake and in the middle of all that and feeling so bad?? I feel like I need to formally apologise to the poor boy for putting him through it. I definitely imagine it's one of those violent but short lived bugs. Like he's probably going to throw up a few more times throughout the night, but come the next day it's already gonna have tapered off into just feeling tired and weak. (I'm not gonna lie, part of me was really tempted to write a second chapter for this- I'm not a 100% sure where I would've gone with it, but the temptation is definitely there)

Gah and I love playing with the contrasts between sick Cyno and sick Nari, and the contrasts between caretaker Nari and caretaker Cyno. It's just so much fun to see how their different characteristics shine through when they're put in those situations.

I felt so bad for putting poor Cyno *right* in the line of fire, my poor guy wasn't even wearing a shirt to act as a buffer. (It also makes me think just how likely is he to catch this- ANYWAY)

I need to stop answering asks this late at night!! There's so much more I wanna say, but the brain doesn't wanna brain!! I'm gonna follow-up scream tomorrow though, trust me on that. I got the weekend off, so lots of rambles and writing the next two days 👀

[lipglossanon]

Aww I’m so glad u love my thoughts💕💕 I always get scared and overthink a lot about how these can tire u :’)

BUT I HAVE ANOTHER ONE TO SHARE WITH U!!!

OK SO. My mom brought back some strawberries today and they just keep tempting me to bake anything and everything😩 so I was thinking, imagine how cute it’d be when stepdad Leon this time (wink wonk) just walks down from his room to the kitchen one day and sees his sweet baby baking smth❤️😭 MY HEART I SWEAR. Usually stepdad Leon is so teasing and smug towards her but now? Now he feels like he’s literally melting on the inside from how pure and cute she looks in her little apron🥹 Let’s say for example she’s making some strawberry shortcake cuz she’s craving some, and her back is facing Leon, whisking away some whipped cream while the cake is baking in the oven. She’s humming a tune and gently swaying her body to it, generally having a good time and being oblivious to her stepdad standing at the entrance behind her.

Now usually, seeing her in that cute apron would make him go wild but during this moment, he prob lowkey wishes he married her instead- LIKE SIR CALM DOWN PLS. He can’t help it tho, she just looks so sweet and loving and motherly and cute and UGH, he wants to keep her aalllll to himself :( after standing there and admiring her for a while, Leon walks towards her and just wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close to him and gives small kisses on her neck and shoulders IM-

“Whatcha making sweetheart?”

She’s just standing there like🧍‍♀️ CUZ SHE GOT SO FLUSTERED AHDJFK and and she’s like

“Just some…strawberry shortcake ‘s all..” her face is def 101% red. His grin grows wider at her timid voice, thinking how she’s so cute and small next to him😻

“Hmm, ‘s there some for me too?” BITCH⁉️⁉️ the audacity of this man but it’s okay cuz he’s hot and very daddy so. The entire time he’d def try to distract her on purpose lmao😭

Anyways that’s all for now, I may or may not have some more. Maybe some spicy ones?😈😈

Trust me, I love hearing them!! 💜 💜 but I totally get the nervousness. You guys are so nice to me and enjoy my writing and like it’s just really blowing my mind 😭 😭

Can I just say I love strawberries, literally the best fruit 😝

No but I love that!! The cute apron!! 😭 and of course gotta have the cliche of having flour on her face so he can brush it off 🥰

He’s acting so sweet towards her and it’s making her a million times more flustered 😫 he keeps stealing bites of strawberries or trying to feed them to her and kiss the taste out of her mouth 😌

Please send me all of the thoughts!!! Especially spicy ones 👀 👀 🤭

[hard-core-super-star]

dhsjakak It's okay, no one is perfect ☝️ and I see why! and I also see why that author inspired you to write the first smut here- noooo this can be such a big problem most of the time lmao. there’s still time to do a part 2 of this list then 😶 okay, I wasn't expecting that and it's lovely- I mean, good to know that that's not what's happening then.

I didn't ignore kehskakak I just asked what was that, that's all. buuuuut if you're still interested in knowing, I could give you a number, but I can't think of one high enough to express that. I hope this helps. oh my... you actually admitted something without leaving the sentence unfinished 😲

I will adopt this as my job now 🫡 this IS a cool shirt, okay, I feel honored to have been honored with this shirt. I don't know why but it gives me a bit of a my chemical romance vibes. we can both be stubborn, can't we? 👀

I don't think you'll ever know, but I'll trust the jury to exonerate me. sorry asjsakjwk I was tired- but feel free to call me out if it happens again. waitwaitwait, you completely read it wrong, I said I won't stop finishing sentences haha ​​🤗 we definitely will, but I'll update you if I think of any examples.

LET'S GOOOOO my “I’m finally right” party WILL happen!!

HEYhekwkajska you need to reveal these thoughts, fairies died of curiosity. YOU REALLY BLINKED 😭😭 I'm so proud. well, about getting a good night's sleep, I don't know how to help, so maybe this request for help wasn't of much use- since ocean's 8 is a movie and the others are not, I'll start with it. so I'm worthy of it? 🥺 I am the star but the stars you give me are also stars... it's so confusing. but I'm not???? 🤨

– 🌟

jsdghjlsjda thank you, thank you, i appreciate your understanding. they're all incredible and definitely my inspiration to keep working on my writing. yeah, those smut fics are...out of this world and they certainly got my mind moving toward smut so i was like well...might as well take a stab at this and i ended up really liking it lmao. it really is a problem. idk how i can have a neutral face on all the time except when i'm supposed to. i think a part 2 might be in order, yes. i'm glad to hear you think so even though it's definitely not happening.

mhmm, but in asking you created another question to avoid answering the one i asked. you already know i'm interested in knowing, so i'll accept this, even if there's no number included. it does help a little. yes because i'm not a brat 😶

sounds like a boring job but alright. i absolutely adore this shirt especially 'cause i bought it at their concert which was just such a mind-blowing experience. [somehow even more mindblowing than hearing tegan shout me out...which was officially a year ago, today. wild] honestly, i can see that too but i can't explain why either. we certainly can, little star.

i think you're relying on the jury a little too much, darling. it's fine, it just made me worry if i forgot to add the exception part lmao. oh, i see, now i'm the one who missed a part? good to know you'll keep finishing your sentences then...my darling star.

honestly, i'm tempted to take my words back just for fun but fine, you can have your party. i won't help you figure out those decorations though 😔

i don't think anyone needs to hear those thoughts. damn, you tell me to ask for help and then when i do, i don't get any? smh, what kind of support system is this? then again, i probably shouldn't have requested help from the one who goes to sleep at almost 4am some days. i really hope you like it! it's definitely a top comfort movie for me. i'm still debating...so maybe. it's really not that confusing...i think. you're a little star and i give you more stars as a gift/reward. we don't have to get into the logistics of it because then it really will get confusing.

[kinetic-elaboration]

August 18: Cafe; Walk

I think I’ve reached a new level of drop-dead tired. I went to get my customary Friday-afternoon coffee after work, and then after that B and I met up and took his dog on a walk around the campus area and so on. It was nice but I got so little sleep last night and I’m so tired and I’m so… the energy that I need to replenish in solitude in my introverted way has totally run out and then some, emergency lights on. I was going to go to the DMV tomorrow. I was going to go to the DMV just by myself and then B suggested we hang out on Saturday and offered to go with me to the DMV, and then today he asked to hang out, because he had totally forgotten about tomorrow, as he does. So now he’s like semi-backing out because he needs to do stuff to prepare to go back to work. WHICH, like, I totally get. I mean I’m not that keen to hang out more myself, mostly because as I said, I need some Me Time. I just don’t know when I’ll see him again because he’s going to be so busy with the school year soon, so I was willing to rearrange plans. Now, though, I’m…. rethinking everything. I don’t know if I’m up for the DMV. The thing is… I have spent the last couple weekends in my apartment and it would probably be a good idea to go out again. And I need to get my license renewed, so that would be 2 birds etc. But I feel right now like there’s a real argument to be made for staying in. I have stuff I need to do around the apartment, and I am way, WAY, behind on my writing, and I think resting and being creative would be good for me, better than dragging myself around on errands. Also my feet hurt really bad. Partly from the walking but honestly mostly from stress.

I know I do this to myself so this isn’t really a complaint but less than 5 hours sleep, I think, then a full day of work that I’m already hazy on, honestly about 2 hours at the café (because I arrived earlier and stayed later than usual) and an hour plus walk… I’m also starting to overthink literally everything I said to B and all the stuff we talked about. We’re old enough friends now that I don’t do that often so I think that I’m in this mood is a sign that I’m just… completely wrung out, left washed up on the shore.

I’ll see how I feel tomorrow. I realize all of this is just my trying to justify putting off the DMV.

I just looked up the hours. They close at noon on Saturday. So. I think that’s a no lmao. I mean like I could do that, it’s not literally impossible, but I would have to make an effort to get up, get ready, and get out early; I can’t just mosey in at some point in the afternoon when I feel up to it. I’ll need to prepare better. Alternately, take an hour or two off work in the afternoon and do it then, a thought that had previously crossed my mind and which is VERY tempting. Something to think about. Totally closed on Sunday so that’s that on that.

I think… I need to sleep, FIRST off. Still a little uncertain about the rest of the weekend but I know I want/need to write, that’s the first priority, and we’ll see how the rest of it goes. During my café time I didn’t do any useful sort of fic planning, because I didn’t have my regular notebook and I didn’t want useful notes to get lost, so I just did this sort of fantastical meta planning about stuff I could write/post for Halloween. It’s a tempting thought.

(Troped Timeloop first though.)

[goblinselfshippr]

❤️Romantic f/o tag explanations+ links

(+Leviathan bc he used to be a romantic but he got switched) fair warning, I don’t keep up with all the shitty musician drama. Warning for medications/experiments/drugs in Albert’s part specifically(which I have moved to the very bottom past Leviathan for that reason).

Vergil- #❤️[A Thousand Years]

Pretty sure most people get this one, it’s the infamous Twilight wedding song. Everyone and their mom knows by this point that I’ve been shipping with this guy since I was like 10, and when you spend that much time writing/daydreaming about a guy it really does feel like we’ve been together for millennia. BUT did you know it is also based off of a wedding dance that I always thought about us doing? It’s a bit of a mashup between this video and this one

Cicero- #❤️[DWTC]

This is actually an acronym for Down With The Clown which is an ICP song… yeah… lol my parents should’ve known I was not gonna be a normal child when they blasted Riddlebox 25/8. Cicero’s entire playlist is mostly ICP because he is in fact an insane clown. I think originally his tag was going to be “My axe” or “chop chop slide” or something but obvs that’s violent and I figured I’d probably need to censor everything if I went with those. I wanted to keep them around 3 words or less, so the acronym was just faster (meanwhile Simeon’s tag exists)

Farkas- #❤️[Tír na nÓg]

*inhale* HOOO BOY this is both a song by Celtic Women and the fae world in Irish folklore. In the song, I’m pretty sure it’s about a warrior who is shipwrecked on an island and sees a faerie that looks like his wife who is trying to tempt him to stay safe with her on the island of Tír na nÓg. My S/Is are exclusively either fae or angels (sometimes both at the same time) but I figured Skyrim has a closer folklore to Norse and Irish and popular culture loves saying they are the same. So yeah, Tír na nÓg because he’s getting tempted by a pretty fae lol

Aizawa- #❤️[Mr. 10pm Bedtime]

This is a song by Girli (one of my top 10 faves) and I really feel like the chorus fits him shdndj especially “Baby, don't tell me you're too old To have a little bit of fun sometimes” and “So tell me one more time That I've been trashing your bedtime I hear you knock, knock, knock On the door and you let me know “Pipe down or you'll have to go!" “ like that is HIM. Our dynamic is very much “loud/flashy/extroverted” and “god I’m so tired introvert”

Levi- #❤️[Under the Willow]

Another lucky guy with a wedding dance. Willow by Jasmine Thompson (warning, the camera spins with the dancers for some ungodly reason so those parts might make you dizzy/motion sick bc it for sure makes me a little nauseous) it’s a really soft song and I kinda only picked it for him because of the line “Down by the water, under the willow Sits a lone ranger, minding the willow” but some of the other parts still fit him imo “If he had spoken, love would return Spoken inside, too soft to be heard” bc that man has a hard ass time conveying emotions. Yes he is blunt, but feelings are embarrassing. (Source: me wanting to disappear the moment I have them). It’s apparently based off of a fairytale called Under the Willow by Hans Christian Andersen

Wrecker- #❤️[Absolutely Smitten]

Dodie song because I was absolutely in my Dodie era with him SHCAKCAB It’s so cute and fun and just feels like him! Esp because it’s easy to imagine my s/i singing this about him (she is a performer) in the bar! I don’t really have a lot to say, these things just lined up. It was a hard tie between this one and Would You Be So Kind, but for me the shorter tags the better.

Simeon- #❤[Kannst du die Engel sehn?]

This is from Die Engel by Eisbrecher, the tag means “can you see the angels” really original i know lmao I love this band and this song(I am not in any means fluent in German, I can only flirt and order food), I have included a video with the English translation. It WASNT going to be five words long, but I felt like just “Die Engel” (The Angel) would NOT work because people wouldn’t understand its not die(English), it’s die(German) + be like “wow that’s a little harsh” 🤣 the full lyric is “Can you see the angels, they fall only for you” which is meant to allude to how Simeon does a LOT of shit he is not supposed to for the MC

Jafar- #❤️[Out of Body]

This is a song by Gorillaz that feels kind of like some sort of cult ritual at first. Allegedly it is about the sort of euphoria you feel dancing at a club or party. Idk feels a lil culty to me(<- has never been to a party). Another one I don’t really have much to say about, in my head it just fits. It’s fun and upbeat and a little crazy/foreboding because this guy is nuts ily tho bby

+Leviathan- #❤️[Break the Internet]

This is from Cyber Sex by Doja Cat exclusively because I didn’t know what the hell to use for him that wasn’t an anime OST song, and I like keeping the music theme. (Sorry bud) I was going to do something from Match to Water by Pierce the Veil(which I feel like is HIS song even if I don’t really feel romantically abt him as much), but I really couldn’t find anything short and snappy that I felt like fit him. And obviously the name of this song would not work on my sfw page 😅

Albert- #❤️[Mr. Doctor Man]

Song by Palaye Royal that has been stuck in my head for the past 6years (shoutout to my ex who introduced me to this band). It’s pretty heavy if you actually listen to the words (alludes to a doctor using illicit substances to cope with the trauma of the job). I’m not completely naïve to the fact that our guy Bertie is canonically a homicidal maniac who absolutely abuses his position to turn people into weird zombie demons or human hamburgers. His story is dark and I wanted his song to reflect that feeling. One of the more recent updates from the game’s creator actually shows a concept art of a kid Albert in some sort of medical testing facility, and I really felt like the song’s themes resonated with him

[championofravens]

Misogyny in a game from 7 years ago: Uncharted 4

Game critic and youtuber Dunkey made a new video talking about Uncharted 4, a game both me and my husband despised after replaying it a year or two ago. It was a very well done and positive review, drawing a lot more out of the game than I ever did and it made me start to question *why* I couldn’t made those connections.

Dunkey says at one point "You are ruining this dude's marriage to make him feel like Indiana Jones" and that was very validating lmao But Dunkey was also saying that things like the marriage conflict, how much we wonder why the fuck Nathan would abandon everything he's got with Elaine, or things like how much we dislike and distrust Drake's brother, it's all intentional... and maybe it is. These were all things that made me really bitter about the game super fast but Dunkey is able to tie it all really well into the grander story and themes that come up over the course of the world trotting adventure.

But it also made me think that I don't think anything could make me like the story of it. Elaine is the most shafted character in the whole franchise and after the horrible bullshit of the third game with her especially, it's really hard to gear myself up for "one last ride" with mister Nathan Drake and his shithead brother, y’know? It isn’t a new or unique storyline to tread that Elaine and Drake’s relationship is rocky and unstable because he’s a selfish brat and he does shit that hurts her. From the very get go with revealing that Drake even had a long lost brother, it felt clear to me we were just going to revisit the same tired trope of making Elaine’s pain the emotional core without ever letting it actually effect the narrative in any way. It felt to me like the game honestly could not figure out a way to close out things without using her as a punching bag again. I hate to say it but I think it's just misogyny! I think it's just me feeling completely overwhelmed with stories of men with comfortable rich fulfilling lives and partners wanting to ruin that for glory, riches, thrills, adventures, whatever. Dunkey said the finale made him overjoyed because it told him that Drake did eventually come to his senses and choose a life with Elaine and decided to pass down that legacy to his kid... but to me it was inevitable. It was inevitable because the only constant in this story (and the other stories) is that Elaine will always take back Drake and give him a normal comfortable domestic life when he wants it. There was no joy, no sense of relief. What, was he going to say NO to going home with his sexy charming ass kicking wife? It's funny how much Dunkey was able to fixate on things like all the places you go, all the game mechanics, all these unique and enriching things in the game because I felt distracted constantly by a story that was just leading to an incredibly predictable end and who's real conflict was that Elaine was home without knowing anything and "oh no when shes gonna find out and be mad". And that makes me mad!

It's almost sad in a way that this game has aged so poorly by virtue of millions of the same stories came out before, during, and after this game's release and whatever subversion Naughty Dog was going for became trite. But I don’t even know if it would have stuck a landing to me regardless. I'm genuinely jealous to hear Dunkey make these narrative connections to things and to appreciate this game on the level the studio probably intended for it to be played. I admit some of this most come from marathoning the games and the sting of the third game being so major, it made me tempted to suggest to my husband we replay 4... but writing up my feelings has made me realize that the best I could ask for is to just ignore all my feelings on a central story aspect and that doesn’t seem fun. Dunkey mentions “the fantasy” at a few points in his video review. He mentions how he think it's the best triple A action in any video game he's played, how the gun fights and intense action comes up later and really rewards you with the big violent set pieces like an indulgence. The game plays into the fantasy of the adventure, both for the player and for Drake. You are supposed to at once disagree with Drake’s decisions but also be too swept away by the intentional fanservice to judge him too strongly. And so I think both the core message and themes of the game, as well as the game itself, is just built around something so inherently masculine.

[dreamkidddream]

Those Doll!anon fics were really amazing! I really wanna do something like it if you don’t mind. Could I maybe get a Yorkie!MC? Like, a really short, really friendly MC until they feel like they or one of the brothers/undateables are being threatened or insulted, then they try to pick a fight they’d obviously lose? I’m just laughing at the mental imagine of this short, unthreatening human yelling at and trying to square up against a demon lol.

Awww tysm!! 💙I missed writing for Obey Me (and we also hit 666 followers at this point 😈💜) and since this was so interesting I decided that I’m gonna do the Undateables first and then do the brothers cause I feel like I don’t show them enough love 😔 reader is gender neutral!

The Undateables with Yorkie!MC

Diavolo

He is LOVING your energy

Your happiness is so contagious, it just adds onto his already cheery demeanor. He honestly feels his cheeks hurting from smiling even more when you’re around (and he doesn’t even care!)

He’s gonna buy Lucifer so much Demonus as a thank you for picking you for the exchange program. Seriously, you’re PERFECT (for him)

As the President of Student Council and future King, he loves seeing you interact with the other students, and he’s glad that they’re reacting positive to you. At least some of them do

Now, no one is to foolish (or powerful) enough to threaten Diavolo or do anything to you that can bring you harm. They can try, but they won’t be getting the results that they hope for

But he can’t help it but find it amusing when you try to “defend his honor” when someone bad mouths him. He makes sure to not let it show (gotta be professional after all) but he does tease you about it later. You’re so small and seeing you just yelling square up to this demon is hilarious. He has no idea what geometry has to do with this, but he’s learned some new slang thanks to you!

He’s finally found someone who’ll go along with his antics and more. Whereas other people may complain about him wanting to do fun activities that seem basic, you just flash a big smile, grab his hand and tell him to lead the way

(You even made matching friendship bracelets and he refuses to take it off, ever)

You really make him happy MC. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this lighthearted, and he doesn’t feel the sense of loneliness that he felt himself getting used too

Also Lucifer gets twice the headache now, but the Demonus helps it go away (temporarily)

Barbatos

Ah, so another Luke, except older and that you take your threats of violence very serious, if what he sees (both in the present and the future) holds true (which it does)

You’re still harmless in his eyes though

Your friendly personality makes it easy for you to be forgiven for a lot of things…even if your actions make him give you the side eye at times

Despite how energetic you are (which is something that he’ll never grow tired of) your presence has a relaxing effect on him. Even if he has to warn you sometimes to be careful with the way that you bounce around so much, especially when he’s in the kitchen

He unfortunately can’t be by your side as he is Lord Diavolo’s butler, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t keep watch on you, even without the use of his powers

With how outgoing you are, you’re bound to attract trouble, in which you do at a constant rate. What was comical however, is that it seemed like the trouble you attracted was on his behalf

“MC, what seems to be the issue here?”

“BARB! You won’t believe this! This jerk has the nerve to call you stuck up- well I can show you stuck up! After I stick my foot up your- Huh? Hey, why am I the one being dragged away?! W- count yourself lucky that Barb is saving you right now demon! But this isn’t over- MPH!”

“I hate to spoil you before our tea party, but you were already late and I have been meaning to have you try my new recipe that I’ve been working on…”

You were too busy trying to savor the delicious flavor to focus on what just happen, which was his plan all along. You get to try more of his delicious treats and he gets to enjoy your touch and company. Crisis averted!

He’s crafty enough to have plans to evade you “fighting” and you haven’t caught on yet (or maybe you did and just feign ignorance? Either way works for him)

It doesn’t bother him what people say about him, he doesn’t care in the slightest (and they’re not bold enough to say it to his face). What he cares about is making sure that you keep your carefree energy, and that he keeps to see you with your radiating smile on your face

Simeon

You remind him so much of Luke. Are you sure you’re not from the Celestial Realm too?

Don’t worry he’s only teasing you (kinda) but you do have just as much energy if not MORE than Luke

And you don’t mind helping him either, no matter how “silly” his requests may be

“You’re doing great Si! See, you didn’t even need my help!”

“MC, I couldn’t have gotten to this point without you. My pictures are still coming out a little blurry, but that could be because you wouldn’t stand still- but it does add special kind of charm to them…”

He’s keeping them btw

He was shook when he saw you go off the first time, like he really wasn’t expecting it (Solomon did try to warn him, he was laughing but he did try to warn him)

“Don’t think just because he’s an angel means I’m bout to act like one! I will end you!”

MC please don’t make this demon “catch these hands” violence isn’t necessary

He doesn’t know what that means but he’s scared that he’s gonna find out if he doesn’t hold you back

He has reprimanded you each time when you try to fight others. He knows that demons see him as weak and talk behind his back, but he chooses to ignore them, to turn the other cheek. But just because he does, doesn’t mean that you do, and he sees that now

Simeon really doesn’t want you to fight, and it’s not even because it’s against his nature (it’s part of the reason, just not the whole reason). Fighting leads to injury, and injury leads to distress, and that’s the last thing that he wants to happen to you. And he’s not going to let anything happen to you!

He truly believes it’s a waste of time and energy, and you could find better things to do. For example, by spending time with him!

Simeon may not be your guardian angel officially, but he’s your guardian angel. Always

Has definitely written a character based on you

Luke

Is immediately upset that you don’t stay in Purgatory Hall with him, and even more upset that you don’t live in the Celestial Realm

You’re like the best older sibling he’s never had! And you don’t treat him like a baby either!

Or he’s just admiring you too much to notice

You never hesitate to help him with anything; baking, homework, pretty much anything and everything. He may try to make it seem like you need his assistance, but we all know it’s the other way around (with the exception of Luke himself)

We all know that Luke gets teased by the brothers and even his roommates sometimes (looking at you Solomon), but it’s just harmless teasing (for the most part). It’s when he hears what the other students say about him that gets to him- he tries to show that it doesn’t bother him and he tries to stand up for himself but- their words really hurt him

And no one hurts Luke and gets away with it

You already get onto the brothers for their teasing when it starts to bother him, and now the brothers have to jump in to stop you from trying to rip this demon horns’ off

You can’t really reach them and they’re pretty sure you won’t do any damage, but they rather not take the chance of you getting hurt

It’s not the first or last time that you do this either, and it just makes him feel horrible. He’s the angel here, the one that’s suppose to protect you, not the other way around!

You help him out so much, either without defending him you do so much for him already. How can he ever repay you? He feels like whatever he does won’t be enough…WAIT- he figured out what he can do!

He can get stronger and protect you! He can go to Beel so that you don’t have to fight for him anymore, or maybe have Solomon make some potions that’s like demon repellent but only for those jerks. If those mean demons see how serious and strong he is, then they’re bound to leave you guys alone! Maybe he can show you some tricks too once he’s done. He has to hurry up and tell you the plan then, you guys can’t wait any longer!

Their words do hurt, but so does seeing you putting yourself in harms way to protect him. You can’t do all the protecting MC, he needs to watch out for you too, no if ands or buts about it!

You and Luke are the duo we never knew we needed

Solomon

Ah, it’s about time he found a human as interesting and adorable as you. Where having you been hiding all his lifetime?!

He has wayyyy more fun teasing you than Luke. Your pout just makes things x100 better and cuter

Congrats on becoming his new victim MC

Another one to find you very amusing when you try to fight and won’t stop you either

He will dead serious be recording you trying to fight on his DDD. He’ll make sure that it doesn’t escalate but who is he to stop such entertainment?

He has become tempted to cast a superhuman strength spell on you, and he ends up doing it “on accident” (which has happened more than once)

Lucifer has done the “I’m watching you” thing to him every time he has lmao

But no seriously, he won’t let you get hurt; he won’t even let the chance arise. He’s already pulling you away before you can get yourself worked up fully, dragging you to the library or his room to test some new spells (one that he tempts you can use on these demons). It’s enough to get your attention back on him

You’re a daily source of his amusement and someone that he wants MC, but that doesn’t mean he can afford his favorite human getting hurt on his watch!

He’s no stranger to the gossip about him, nor is he clueless. It’s just all talk anyway, he doesn’t care and neither should you. But it is touching to know that you care this much about him and how he feels…

But he doesn’t want you to do this for him. He’s a powerful sorcerer, he can easily solve this without breaking a sweat if he wanted to, but he doesn’t deem it worthy to even waste a drop of potions on. But since you’re so concerned, maybe a quick kiss would make him feel better?

He thought you were a little gullible, but that’s not the case. You just have a very open and bright personality, one that he finds himself getting attached to more and more as each day passes

If he’s not careful, he might get more enamored with you than he already is-

[wankusbonkus-gt]

There’s Magic in Thy Enemy

Summary: ‘Theon has grown sick and tired of Snow tailing after Robb like a lost wolf cub, and decides to get rid of the bastard for the young Lord Stark's ease of comfort. (And because he's jealous.)’

Content: Unaware Tiny, Cock Vore, Tiny Jon Snow, Giant Theon Greyjoy, Rape Elements, One-Sided Attraction

A/N: Ashamed to say the title is from bastardised Shakespeare. Specifically, "there's magic in thy majesty", from his play, 'Winter's Tale, Act 5, Scene 3'. Though if I'm being honest, old Willie would have loved to know his work is being used as a title for a microphilia smut fic. Mans basically wrote a lot of flowery dick jokes.

This is based on Anon's prompt: "Tiny!Jon Snow gets cock vored, unaware, by Robb Stark or Theon Greyjoy". I'm basically doing this over, because I stuffed up their prompt *twice* already. I got the cock vore part down, but managed to flub up the "unaware" bit? Twice? In the same day? Anyway, this is me making it up to them lmao

Also, in regards to my hiatus--I wouldn't say it's over, necessarily, but I was hit with a bout of motivation after having written another smut fic (not macrophilia, sorry to say) and wanted to write more. If this trend continues, I'll accept it with grace, but I wouldn't hold my breath. Regardless, please accept this humble offering!! (link to AO3 version)

~

Theon watches from behind his cup as the bastard stumbles away from the table. He fingers the vial of sleeping draught he filched from Maester Luwin’s stores carefully, watching it take effect before his very eyes. Snow’s eyelids are droopy, and he looks like he can barely keep himself upright. It must’ve been a very potent one, to work so quickly. Theon only slipped the potion in his drink a few minutes ago.

‘I should head off to bed. I’m suddenly very tired,’ Snow explains, with a slur to his words, to Robb’s immediate whining.

Theon clenches his fist around the vial so tightly it might crack. He repeats the plan in his head, letting the repetition calm him down before he does anything stupid and give himself away. Drug him, wait for him to fall asleep before slipping away from the feast, stick him in your prick. It’s like a chant, and Theon’s fist slowly loosens.

Snow successfully leaves the Great Hall. Even without the bastard there, Theon is still on edge, although for a different reason entirely.

Robb pouts for a while before getting progressively deeper into his cups. Theon, despite Lady Catelyn’s likely reprimanding tomorrow, encourages his friend, making sure he always has a drink in-hand.

Eventually, Robb and the rest of the feast are drunk as anything, the noise level rising to almost unbearable heights for Theon’s sober ears, and Theon can slip away without anyone noticing.

The door closes behind him, already muffling the noise, and the deeper he goes into the Keep, the quieter they become, until it’s silent. He knows where Snow’s room is, so he doesn’t waste any time in his journey. Best to get it over with quickly lest Snow wake up.

~

The bastard makes an inviting picture, spread out naked on top of his furs. All pale, rouged skin and relaxed limbs. He doesn’t stir even as the door closes firmly behind Theon.

There’s a trail of clothes leading towards the boy like a stone pathway. The rest of the room is as drab and grey as can be expected for a bastard as sullen as Snow. Although a banked fire cackles in the fireplace, blanketing everything in gold.

Theon dutifully follows the strewn vestments until he’s standing by Snow’s head, the light making him glow. Theon feels a throb of equal parts envy, arousal, and hate. Snow always manages to look pretty, even passed out on his bed, even beaten down in the dirt by his betters. Maybe that’s why Robb likes him so much—would like Theon, if his lips were a tempting red and his dark, sooty eyelashes fluttered against his fine cheekbones. The thought turns Theon’s already boiling blood to liquid fire, and the desire to strangle the bastard until his luminous eyes pop out of his head, to bury his sword in that delicate, swan-like neck almost overwhelms him. Unfortunately, getting rid of a body is harder than what Theon already has planned.

Throughout this entire violent tirade, Snow remains in repose. He doesn’t stir one bit.

Dipping his hand into his other pocket, Theon pulls out another vial. It’s filled with a clear, watery substance which Theon was promised would turn its drinker thimble-sized. He half-doubts the seller’s word, but they swore by it. Theon figures that if they were lying he can simply sneak back out to the great hall and get roaringly drunk to forget his failure, and try again another day. Before hunting down the lying fuck and gutting them.

Theon uncorks the vial and bends over the boy, tilting his face back until his plush mouth falls open. His heart pounds in anticipation as he brings it over Snow’s parted lips. The liquid pours into his mouth smoothly.

He sets the container aside and begins massaging Snow’s throat, to encourage swallowing. He remembered Maester Luwin doing the same to an unconscious Robb, who’d gotten a nasty injury in the training yard. The hard nub of his neck bobs once, twice.

Theon rests his hand against the hollow of the bastard’s throat for a moment, imagines squeezing it until the life leaves his body and the air his lungs, then straightens up, standing menacingly over the side of the bed. If anyone were to walk in right now, they might think Theon were trying to rape the sleeping boy. He’s certainly pretty enough for it, but his blood is so dirty Theon wouldn’t dare.

The truth of it all might be even worse.

This thought has barely passed through Theon’s mind before movement catches his eye. He focuses on Snow’s body, as his flesh undulates and stretches grotesquely. His limbs lengthen and shrink, and his head wiggles on his shoulders, before everything condenses all at once. His limbs grow back into his body, his neck closer to his shoulders. He goes from taking up most of his small cot to drowning in his furs. Theon can only watch in shock as the boy disappears into them.

He stands there for a moment, no longer able to see Snow. He, for all intents and purposes, appears alone. The bastard of Winterfell Jon Snow has become no more fierce than a mouse.

He springs into action, then, diving for the bed and searching until he finds Jon’s small body among it. He’d lost him, for a moment. The realisation strikes something odd within his chest, but he pushes it away. He has a job to complete before anyone comes looking–mostly likely a drunk Robb, wanting to spend the night warming the furs of his bastard half-brother.

Growling, Theon undoes his trousers with one hand, the other holding onto Snow, and takes out his cock. It’s flush with blood. He’d gotten half-hard just from watching. This makes it easier for him to stroke himself to full-mast. He’s so taken by the thought of what will happen next that he barely feels his hand on his cock. He positions the small bastard by his pisshole and begins to let him fall.

The feeling is … weird. The closest thing he can compare it to is using a too-heavy arrow: it sits oddly, and you second guess the whole thing by the time you are ready to shoot the damn thing. But there’s no turning back now, unless he wants to shoot the bastard out of his cock and drown him in his seed. What a way to go, the kraken drowning the white wolf!

Theon huffs a laugh, jerking his cock as he feels Snow descend into his balls. He resists the urge to finish himself and focuses on the feeling of Snow travelling through him, becoming a part of Theon. The bastard would be no more distinguishable from Theon’s cock than the seed it produces. What would Robb do if he knew? Would he lick and suck every inch of Theon’s cock to rescue his poor half-brother? Would he take Theon into his mouth, swallow Snow by accident, too caught up in the act to care about some bastard too cocky for his own good?

The thought makes Theon’s cock jerk in his fist. He squeezes himself once, twice, and realises he can’t feel the body anymore. It must have reached his balls, where Snow would have drowned in his seed.

Theon, with strength he did not know he possesses, does up his trousers. He takes the empty vial from the rickety bedside table and stores it in his pocket. The clothes are gathered up and the bed made, until it looks like Snow never made it back to his room.

He leaves the small, dingy room behind, keeping an ear out for any wandering servants, but everyone is still preoccupied by the feast. Theon stops by his chambers to deposit the clothes to be handled later, before returning to the great hall. Robb welcomes him with a messy cheer, bringing his arm over his shoulder and tugging him forward, their sides pressed together. Theon thinks of the bastard in his balls, a problem solved, and takes a chug of Robb’s mead.

Tonight he celebrates!

[themayforce]

Yesterday's Mist

Summary: Three years ago, you fell in love with Qui-Gon Jinn. Now, as a newly appointed senator in the capital, you are ill prepared for seeing him again.

Description: Yes I'm trying to write again! It's a whole different type of fic than Pretty in Pink lmao but I hope I can get some good fluff going. It'll be a lot of pining 🙈

Rating: M for now, might turn Explicit later

Pairings: Qui-Gon Jinn/f!Reader

Words: 2917

Chapter 1: The Deep End

It had been exactly two hours and fifteen minutes since your arrival on Coruscant, and you were already convinced the capital was going to exhaust you. You were excited for the job, definitely. Working in the capital was a privilege, sure. The people were cordial and helpful, without a doubt. But nothing could have prepared you for just how bright the nights here were, with lights everywhere that never seemed to die.

"Essie," you groaned as you buried your face in the couch cushions, "could you figure out how to close those blinds, please?" Your protocol droid, S-3PO, shuffled over to the windows and pressed a button. With only the subdued ceiling lights left to gently illuminate the room, it felt a lot more like the kind of evening you were used to back on Nandeel - the warm sea breeze at dusk, the huge reflection of the planet Om in the water touching its counterpart above the horizon, the food vendors tempting visitors and locals alike with their delicacies, the sand-birds returning to their burrows for the night. 

And that one time a Jedi Knight had sat beside you on the beach, his shoulder touching yours, as he talked to you of places so distant they didn't sound real, customs so foreign he had you laughing at the strangeness of it all. You had truly felt the presence of the Force that night, in the air around you and between you, and in the sand that grounded you.

He hadn’t stayed on Nandeel for very long. You had offered to show him the beaches and the old harbor, insisting that he had something to remember your home by - other than politics and negotiations and the inside of a government building. He had liked the food, and loved the tea, a satchel of which you had given him to take back to the capital with him. An old man selling fried bread had thought you were married. “ Not quite,” he had answered, his eyes glittering, “ but I have certainly found a friend.”

That was three years ago, and that scared you. Because you knew that if you saw him again now, you might realize you had been silently in love with Qui-Gon Jinn for the past three years of your life. He had been there for every major event; your graduation, your promotion, and now, your move to Coruscant. He had been a constant companion in every way but one: you had not actually seen him or spoken to him since he left your moon. Some days you missed him terribly, to the point where you resented that he hadn’t contacted you for this long. But the rational part of your brain knew that you had only known him for a week and a half, and the fact that you were still hung up on it was kind of pathetic. 

“Mistress, are you alright? Would you like me to turn all the lights off?” Essie asked, shuffling over to where you were sitting. “I could get a service droid in here with some tea, I would get it myself, but since my last attempt to carry hot beverages ended in quite the mess, I-”

You exhaled through your nose in amusement, remembering the incident, and shook your head. “No, I’m fine. Just tired from the trip and the welcoming committee.”

“Oh yes, Senator Banzon certainly is very talkative, I can imagine it might be hard to work with him, but-” She stopped talking when she saw you close your eyes once more.

“I’ll leave you to rest, mistress.”

That night, you got a call from the woman who had made this whole thing possible.

"Prime Minister," you said, putting down a cup of Rodian Spiced Wine you had been nursing, "Thank you for calling." You had always thought she was striking, with her dark complexion and her short bob, the tips of which rested just below her ears. Black bangs covered her forehead and eyebrows, and her eyes were darkened with kohl. No one who met her could doubt her class and style, and it was quite possibly one of the big factors that had aided in her election, next to her eloquent speech.

"My dear, just call me Zo’el in private.” She took a drag from a cigarette that was attached to a long, thin holder. “You look tired. Are you at your apartment yet?” 

“Yes. I got your flowers, thank you so much.” It was actually only after the impromptu nap on your couch that you had bothered to look around the place. The bouquet she had sent you was as elegant as her - blue and white roses were enveloped by leaves of bright green. The colors of Nandeel. Blue for the ocean, white for the sand - and green, the color of Nandeel’s famous dune thistle that was made into teas and dyes. The parliamentary palace was painted in the same shade. Even Essie spotted the color on her chassis. A pang of homesickness shot through your chest. Was it the right thing to do, to come here? 

“Of course, dear. I know it’s hard to adjust to a new place,” she said, expressing aloud what you were thinking, “but you are going to make me so proud, I just know it.”

Just as you were about to express your gratitude, she turned to someone behind her. “Yes, I will be right there. I told you not to start without me! I’m sorry, dear,” she said, turning back to you, “it’s this blasted new housing bill. I’m afraid I must go. Good luck out there! Oh, and I’ve sent you the map data of that darling boutique you simply must visit. Can’t have you representing our moon in anything less than perfect attire! Ta!”

The holo disconnected, and you felt a little like a child sent off to boarding school for the first time. A bit more wine probably wouldn’t hurt.

—

It had been two days since your arrival on Coruscant, and you couldn’t remember why you thought this might be fun. You had gotten lost somewhere in Galactic City while looking for that boutique. None of the sign-droids you had asked seemed to have any idea what you were saying, making you wonder if your accent was stronger than you realized. The locals either kept walking as you approached them, or shrugged at your question. You bit the inside of your cheek. What were you expecting, coming to a city-world of billions when you had lived your life in a town with less than three hundred thousand? 

When your feet started to hurt and you were ready to send the last unhelpful sign-droid flying into a wall, you decided to just buy something at the first clothing store you ran into. You had hoped for something white and blue, but the only white suits they had were all too small on you. In the end, you settled on a light-gray and green two-piece, and made a mental note to, for the love of all that’s pure and good, order something on the holonet next time. 

—

It had been two weeks since your arrival on Coruscant, and you realized this job was going to be much, much harder than you anticipated. As the senator for a small and mostly insignificant moon (truly, you would bet credits on it that the average Republic citizen could not find it on a map - you had even met droids who couldn’t), the broadly accepted way to treat you seemed to be simply to ignore you or talk over you. 

“I just mean that, when it comes to planets and moons in the Expansion Region, I think-” you tried, but halfway through your sentence the booming voice of Senator Banzon tackled your half-formed argument to the floor. “Planets in the Expansion Region have been ignored for too long!” Yeah, and don’t forget about the moons you’re ignoring right now, you bastard. “We must simply convince the corporations we are still worth investing in!”

“I agree, but we can’t just let foreign businesses have free reign on our territories.”

“Bah!” Banzon exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “That’s not what I’m suggesting! But Czerka can really help us advance our financial position within the Republic!”  Czerka can bleed us dry within years. Or screw the workers over while the officials pocket all the profit. 

Unfortunately for you, Senator Banzon, infuriating and credit-hungry as he was, was undoubtedly your most important ally in the Senate. He was the representative of the only other habitable planet in your star cluster, and historically an important trading partner of Nandeel. As Zo’el always put it: “Weld Banzon is a moron, but he’s the only moron we’ve got.” When you had met him years ago on Nandeel, you hadn't minded him so much. He had looked quite handsome with his large frame and dark, slicked back hair, and he wasn't a bad conversationalist either. But maybe the capital and the Senate had brought out the greed that had probably always been there.

The rest of your friendly discussion with the senator did not go any more smoothly. You wondered if someone had dropped him on the head when he was a baby, or if everyone from his planet was this dense. No, that was mean. You had known Hermetians with sharp wit and a sense of humor. Just not this one. 

“Excuse me,” you said, standing up from your chair. “I need some air.”

You were spoiled. You could see it now. No matter how rich or influential the people on the highest level of Coruscant were, they still lived on a planet where breathing felt like heavy labor. People came to Nandeel for the air quality - the salty breeze of the ocean was pure and clean, warm but not too hot at midday, cool but not too cold at night. You thought your lungs must be shrinking from how hard it was to breathe here. You’ll adjust. Other people have. 

It was busy outside the Senate Building. There seemed to be a class of school children on a trip with their teachers. Little humans, Ithorians, Rodians, and Mirialans ran around the square, shouting the answers to (what you assumed was) a quiz on their holopads. You watched as a green Rodian child clamped onto the leg of her teacher. You knew a little bit about what it was like to be overwhelmed. The only way you could sleep at night was with the blinds all the way down while listening to a recording of some ocean you found on the holonet. Back home, you had on occasion slept on the beach under the stars. Om was bright in the night sky, but it was a different brightness than Coruscant. On the beach, you felt safe, protected, watched over. Here every strange noise startled you and there was too much light pollution to see the stars.

In the same direction as the child and her teacher, you spotted two men in Jedi robes leaning over the railing, talking while looking out at the city. Your heart stopped when you saw the long hair on one of them. Just when you tried to convince yourself it could be anyone, he turned his head in conversation, and you saw the outline of his nose. There couldn’t have been more than twenty meters between you and Qui-Gon Jinn.

There was no more space in your lungs for air. You should have been prepared, but you weren’t. There were many things you wanted to say to him, but at the same time you wanted to say nothing at all. He might not even remember you. He might have not even liked you, and you could have mistaken his politeness for friendship. He had existed in your mind for so long, what if you had turned him into a different person, something he was not? 

With your heart in your throat and your chest full of smog, you went back inside.

—

"You’re Zo'el Xanteris' little protégé, right? Here." A tall Togrutan woman walked up to you, and she handed you one of the two drinks in her hand, a large but shallow glass filled with a pink liquid, its rim decorated with sugar. You took it to be polite and because she had caught you a little off guard. No one had approached you at this party yet, and the only people you knew were Banzon and the butler-droid that had offered you some kind of mystery canapé that you had immediately eaten three of because they had no business being that good. The droid had beeped with satisfaction. 

It was dumb to leave Essie at home. She at least wasn't nervous about approaching people and she never ran out of things to talk to. But one of her processors was fried and wouldn't be fixed until the morning, so she was a bit… unpredictable right now. You had found her talking to a lamp she thought was you.

“Oh, thank you - yes,” you answered a bit sheepishly. It felt a little embarrassing to be known as ‘someone’s little protégé’, like you weren’t actually a fully-fledged senator in your own right. Besides, you had no idea who she was or how she knew you.

“I’m Yena.” She shook your hand while you replied with your own name. “I used to be the senator of Kiros, but I stuck around as one of the Supreme Chancellor’s advisors. Zo’el and I worked together when we both lived on Shili.” Winking, she added, “She told me to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” you managed with a polite chuckle, but blood was rushing to your face at the thought of this complete stranger knowing how green you were. Had Zo’el told her you needed help? Did you seem that incompetent to her?

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ve heard only good things about you. That speech you wrote, about protecting your oceans from the megacorps? You know your way around words. Give yourself some time to adjust, and you’ll outshine Banzon on the senate floor.” She brought her drink to her lips, her mouth curling in a mischievous smile. “Not the biggest challenge, I must add.”

Okay, I think I like her. You gave her a knowing look and smiled back. 

“So how have your first few weeks here on Coruscant been?”

You sighed. “To be honest, with ups and downs. It’s all very exciting, but also very exhausting.” Laughing, you took a sip from your drink. Stars, this is delicious. You had to remember to ask what this was called. “I’ve tried exploring the city, but I kept getting lost, so I kind of gave up.”

Yena’s brow furrowed. “They didn’t give you that holoprogram? With the city guides?”

Oh no. “What guides?”

She pulled out her personal datapad and started looking for something. “I should still have them, they give them to all the senators, it has a map you can program to specific destinations. It constantly gets updated with new places, or off-limits areas. It was a lifesaver when I first arrived. Here, I can link up with you and send it over.”

A wave of relief washed over you when you saw the guide and you thanked her profusely. 

“I’m shocked you were overlooked. I will personally look into how this happened.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” you shrugged, “it probably happens all the time.”

“Well, it shouldn’t. Just because you represent a smaller place, doesn’t mean you should be treated with any less respect. Trust me, I come from a small planet too.”

The two of you talked a little longer. It turns out you were both advocates for the preservation of wildlife in your respective homes, hadn’t seen a big city until well into adulthood, and (also very importantly) liked the same holodramas. It felt good to be friendly with someone other than your protocol droid, and this awful party suddenly didn’t seem so terrifying anymore. 

“Oh,” Yena said suddenly, pointing at something behind you with her drink. Instinctively, you turned to see what she was looking at, but at first glance you didn’t see anything. “Looks like some of the Jedi are here.”

Apart from a few seasoned politicians, who you assumed had dealt with the Jedi a hundred times over already and were not impressed anymore, almost everyone turned to look at the arriving guests. A handful of Jedi walked into the room; you recognized Master Windu, who was on the Jedi Council, and a Nautolan you think you had seen before, but the crowd between you in the door was too dense to make out any other faces. Your heart raced with longing to see him , while your mind screamed at you to excuse yourself and slip out the back door. Except this room had no back door, and you couldn’t seem to move.

“Oh wow, so many Masters,” Yena said, her voice low. “It’s not often they attend events like this in groups. Even Qui-Gon Jinn is here, and he doesn’t usually go where the Council goes.”

Even Qui-Gon Jinn is here. 

Even Qui-Gon Jinn is here.

A few people up ahead moved, and it was like one of you had willed the crowd to part, because only moments later you locked eyes with him for the first time in three years. You barely even noticed the sound of your glass shattering on the floor.

[thekentuckyhimbo]

Sunrises and Kiwi Crushes

Pairing: Jay White/Reader, Jay White x Reader

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Words: 2.5k

Chapters: 1/?

Complete: Yes

Summary:

You live a quiet life in your small town, working two jobs to pay your way through college. But one night while working at the bar in town, a stranger from New Zealand comes in for a drink. Suspicious of his presence, you soon find out he has just bought the property next door to your parents’ farmhouse.

Author Notes:

I never used to be the type to write Reader or OFC fics so this feels oddly nerve-wracking and gratuitous. Full disclosure I am not American so I am just kind of making shit up lol. But I feel this community needs more slow burn Jay White fics and so here I am lmao

Chapter Notes:

I am very bad at naming things

Chapter 1

It’s a Friday evening and mercifully you’ve been rostered on by yourself tonight. The bar you work at is unusually quiet; it’s the first weekend of the NFL off-season and it seems that the residents of your town are still lamenting the Super Bowl loss of their beloved Chiefs.

When you enter behind the bar from the back room, tying your apron around your waist, you notice that there are only two faces sitting at the bar, and behind them the rest of the dining area is empty, pool tables still set up and untouched.

One of your patrons you recognised as Mr Davis, a broad-shouldered older man with a toothy grin and a booming voice. He worked for a plumber the next down over, and you had recognised his dusty old sedan on your way in.

The car beside his, however - a shiny pickup that’s silver paint job had barely a speck of Kansas’ iconic red dirt on it - must have belonged to the stranger who sat two stools down from Mr Davis.

It was rare that your small town saw anyone beside the locals. Occasionally during the summer months a few tourists on road trips would amble their way in and take a look at your mom’s gift shop, but ever since they built that new highway in the nineties, what little tourism infrastructure there was had shut down. On main street there was a long-abandoned motel, opposite the theatre that had closed down all but one of its screens. The last time you had seen a tourist come through here, he had apparently been making a YouTube video where he was attempting to visit all 34 ‘Springfields’ in the United States. A big Simpsons fan, of course.

At any rate, the newcomer already had a beer in his hand and his head down in his phone, so for now you took little notice of him. When he needed a refill, perhaps then you’d ask what he was here for.

Truth be told though, you were too tired to care. You’d been helping your dad at the farm all morning, attended classes through the day and into the afternoon, and had changed into your work clothes in your car in the back parking lot before you walked in here.

Thankfully the other barmaid who worked on Fridays, Molly, had been given the night off. You thought she might have mentioned something about taking the opportunity to go out with her boyfriend - a petty jab at your perpetually single status that she often found too tempting to resist.

Unfortunately, Ruth and Hank - the owners of the bar - had left you the unenviable task of cleaning out the bar fridge on such a quiet night. Ruth and Hank were in their late sixties now and a lifetime of manual labour at their farmhouse in the day and standing behind the counter at the bar during the evenings had taken its toll on their bodies. So that left you, their strapping young hire and long-suffering neighbour, to do all the heavy lifting in the place.

“Good evening, Mr Davis,” you said, squatting down opposite him behind the bar.

You decided you’d start right away, because apparently someone had spilled a beer in the fridge, which had sparked your bosses’ desires to spring clean, and you figured it was going to be disgusting.

“I’m just cleaning out the fridge tonight,” you called from where your head was inside the fridge, reaching far to the back to grab bottles of beer that had probably been in there for fifteen years. “So if you need anything give me a holler.”

You took to your work quickly, telling yourself that if you finished early and your patrons left you might get to close up early and get a decent night’s sleep for once. Driving back and forth two hours each way to your college was hardly ideal, but the stories you heard about their dorms were unsettling to say the least. Besides, at twenty-five you’d only just worked out what you wanted to do with your life, and at twenty-five you were certainly too old for a college dorm.

As you leaned into the now-empty fridge to clean it with a dish rag and a bottle of cleaning spray, you heard Mr Davis begin to make conversation with the stranger at the bar. Or perhaps interrogate him, depending on your interpretation.

Mr Davis was asking the stranger what NFL team he followed.

The stranger replied, “I’m more of an NBA kind of guy.”

His accent was something that you couldn’t place, but you felt like you recognised it from somewhere. South African, maybe? You wondered. In your first semester classes last year there had been a South African exchange student, and you thought they sounded vaguely alike.

“Where you from, son?” Mr Davis asked.

In his tone you could hear a hint of suspicion and you felt compelled to stand up from the fridge. You began idly wiping down the counter in front of you, trying to be subtle about the way you eyed up both men. This wouldn’t have been the first time you’d had to kick Mr Davis out for having one too many drinks and starting a fight. Normally it was about sports, but in your experience Mr Davis wasn’t the most open-minded man.

The stranger, to his credit, seemed remarkably calm. Your eyes met his as you glanced up at the confrontation, and he held your gaze for just a second before returning it to Mr Davis. In that single glance he seemed to communicate that he knew what you were doing; watching them and awaiting the fight that seemed thick in the air.

“New Zealand,” the stranger replied coolly.

The New Zealander had put his phone away now and swivelled on his stool so that he was facing Mr Davis. His posture was relaxed, shoulders hunched forward slightly, but in that polished way that actors in movies had about them. You weren’t sure what to make of him just yet, but his pretty face and long brown hair told you he wouldn’t handle being punched by Mr Davis very well.

“Long way from home,” Mr Davis said darkly, his eyes narrowing.

“Mr Davis,” you said suddenly, and both his and the stranger’s eyes snapped to you.

You had no idea what you were going to say next, so you floundered for a moment, folding the dish rag in your hand into an unnecessarily small square. Finally, you decided to say what you always said when Mr Davis got a little too rowdy.

“How is Mary?” you asked, flashing him a smile that you knew would look painful even as you held it for an extra beat.

Mr Davis turned his body back towards the bar, and towards you. He grasped his beer glass tightly in his hand. There was an inch or so of amber liquid left, which he lifted to his lips and drained before placing the glass on the bar with a loud ‘thud’.

“I suppose I should go home and find out,” he finally answered.

And with that Mr Davis was gone, snatching his coat off the back of his stool and stumbling out the swinging front door. Part of you felt like you should call Mrs Davis to come and pick him up, but historically whenever you’d suggested that while working here Ruth and Hank had laughed you off as though you were being ridiculous. Drink driving wasn’t an offence taken particularly seriously in Springfield.

You watched the swinging door slow to a stop for entirely too long, contemplating how to broach the subject with the stranger. You felt oddly compelled to apologise on behalf of your town, but you also understood that Mr Davis’s distrust of outsiders came from a lifetime of big city developers sweeping through small towns throughout the state to bulldoze and pave over the locals in favour of expanding whatever industry they were in. And that would of course include your parents’ farm.

The New Zealander however didn’t seem like the big city type. You took him in fully now. Long wavy hair and a relaxed t-shirt and cotton shorts. He hardly looked like he was a businessman, or even like he had big city money.

“What a warm welcome,” he said dryly, flashing you a wry smile.

You shrugged your shoulders, crossing the distance between where you stood and where the New Zealander sat. He was conveniently in front of the beer taps, so you reached out and refilled his glass without asking.

“This one’s on the house,” you informed him simply, before going back to the task you’d been given (if only so you didn’t have to continue this awkward exchange).

You knelt down in front of the now clean refrigerator and began piling the alcohol back into it, save for the beers that had been right at the back which you were sure were as old as you were. As you did, the New Zealander continued to talk to you.

“Is he always like that?” he asked casually.

You lifted your head up from the bar long enough to say, “Pretty much,” before returning to your work.

As much as you might sympathise with the guy’s desire to smooth over the awkwardness of this entire interaction, you also didn’t really care to get to know him. Partly because you couldn’t help but wonder how this entire thing would have gone down if Molly hadn’t had the night off.

Despite her boyfriend, Molly was a merciless flirt, and had seemingly made it her mission to make every man under fifty she ever met blush. Molly would surely think this guy was attractive. Under his t-shirt his arms were muscular and dark, a natural tan that made him look sun-kissed in a way men from your town didn’t. You figured it must be from a life spent at the beach on a coastline somewhere. (Did New Zealand have beaches?)

Briefly you entertained the fantasy of asking him what it was like to live in a place that wasn’t land-locked, because truth be told you’d never left Kansas.

Molly would have liked this guy’s hair too, something so different from the way men in their town wore their hair. And his beard would have been desirable, Molly would likely have said it was a sign he was a ‘real man’. Not that you knew what that meant. Maybe it was some type of innuendo, but more likely it was just something Molly said because a man without a beard in this town was hard to come by, and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

You could only put off the inevitable for so long, and after closing the refrigerator door and spending an unrealistic amount of time wiping over said door, you finally stood upright and met the stranger’s eyes again.

There was little else to do around the place tonight. You could busy yourself polishing glasses and wiping the bar, but there was only so much of that to do with only one patron in the whole place. The stranger and Mr Davis had likely been their only customers all day. If it had been a local at the bar tonight, you would have just pulled out your phone or chatted idly to them about their kids, their business, and any of the latest town gossip. But you weren’t as comfortable doing that with this stranger in your bar, especially by yourself. Resigning yourself to a long, boring night, you began polishing the bar with a rag like someone out of a movie.

The New Zealander attempted to strike up a conversation again after a while. You thought of Molly again as you heard the lilt in his voice. It was quite musical really, and you were reminded of when an English backpacker had stumbled into town long ago - you’d still been in high school at the time - and all the girls had gone crazy for him.

“You don’t seem very interested in what I’m doing here,” the New Zealander noted.

You took a moment to mull over his words, trying to decide how best to reply. You thought about the truth, which was that you were exhausted and just wanted him to leave, but that seemed rude.

Eventually, you just shrugged and said, “People come through from time to time.” When he stared blankly back at you, you added, “They never stay long.”

“Well I just moved here,” the New Zealander countered.

That took you by surprise. Your mind raced as you struggled to process what he’d said. The old Smith house had been on the market for nearly five years at an outrageous asking price from the grandchildren of the Smith family, who were a few years younger than you. You remembered seeing them come to visit their elderly grandparents a lot growing up, and so the house had been left to them instead of Mr and Mrs Smith’s only child, who by all accounts was a bit of an asshole. You wracked your brain trying to think of any other houses for sale in the area, but of course there weren’t any. Most houses in Springfield had been passed down by families for generations.

Not only were you concerned for the New Zealander’s safety, because residents of your town rarely took kindly to strangers, but the Smith house was right next door to yours and you couldn’t imagine seeing this guy every day.

What you were thinking must have been evident on your face, because the stranger - your new neighbour - held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“I’m not here to make waves,” he said, though behind his eyes you could see a twinkle of something mischievous - like some part of him was enjoying your discomfort.

You licked your lips thoughtfully, wondering if you should tell the guy you were neighbours or not. You supposed he was going to find out either way, but part of you felt challenged by the look in his eye, like you wanted him to work for it and earn his place. If he was truly determined to stay in Springfield then he would. If not, at least he might escape before Molly or any of the single girls in town got their claws into him.

“You about finished up here or what?” you asked him, a hint of defiance in your voice that you hadn’t expected to hear from yourself.

Your new neighbour lifted his glass and drained the last of his beer before standing up. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and dropped a twenty on the bar. You pocketed it quickly, half expecting him to change his mind.

He smirked at you from across the bar. “Thanks for rescuing me,” he said. He put his wallet back into his pocket before he continued, “My name’s Jamie, by the way.”

And with that ‘Jamie’ was off and out the door. Unfortunately you knew you hadn’t seen the last of him.

[missinghan]

cold sun ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 2,6k.

❖ warning : slight swearing

❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.

❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

It’s the first day of the week.

“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”

And Han Jisung is really annoying.

Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.

There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.

Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.

“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.

Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.

“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“Alright, stupid.”

The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”

And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”

“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”

Han Jisung really is annoying.

He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.

Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.

It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”

“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.

You tilt your head, “...for real?”

“For real.”

After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”

His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.

Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)

A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”

The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.

And Jisung decides this is it.

It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.

It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.

“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”

Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.

He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.

Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.

Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.

Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.

Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.

“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”

You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.

His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”

A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”

A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”

Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?

“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.

His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.

It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.

I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.

Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?

I’ll fucking kick you.

Wait, there’s homework?!

...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?

“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.

Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.

He made auntie cry?!

I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.

I’m seriously going to punch him.

She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.

Han Jisung you fucking idiot.

I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.

Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.

I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.

It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.

It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.

He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.

“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”

His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.

As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”

A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”

Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Your voice.

His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.

I need to hear it again.

And you might not stay by his side this time.

“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.

Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.

His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”

“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.

You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.

It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.

“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”

A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”

You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.

You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.

You miss how annoyingly loud he is.

“Y-Y...Y/N…!”

Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.

“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”

Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”

“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.

Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.

“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”

He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”

You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”

Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.