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petertingle-yipyip · 2 months

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ALWAYS BEEN YOU - KAZ BREKKER

//follow-up to this (for context, really) but can be standalone// also @darker0moon221b asked for this//

Pairing: kaz brekker x reader

Word Count: 3,146

Summary: On the heels of a rough night and unbelievable confessions, Y/N still has to make sure Kaz is alright. What comes after is… shocking.

“I loved you first.”

“What?” Your head snapped up and your hands around the kit tightened till your knuckles were white. “You don’t mean that.” You laughed nervously.

Kaz didn’t waiver in his eye contact, dark eyes boring into yours. You shifted slightly under his gaze but he didn’t speak. Even when you rose to your feet, he didn’t look away, didn’t say a word. He just watched you intently, like if he looked away you would vanish.

Those four seemingly simple words bounced around your skull. You tried to imagine what his expression was when he said them, but you couldn’t. There was no way for you to know what he was thinking. That cursed unreadable expression crossed his features and you would’ve given anything for any of his other looks. That near smile that only you seemed to get or even his widely recognized scheming face.

“I loved you first.”

You had imagined it, right? He gave you nothing to think otherwise. Yes, that’s all it was. A tired brain mixing with a yearning heart to play on your own foolish infatuation. Kaz Brekker was many horrible things and few wonderful. But he was not someone who confessed love. Maybe he didn’t know love. Maybe he didn’t want to. Either way, it wasn’t about you. That much you could convince yourself.

“Okay.” You said finally. You had no idea how much time had passed while your thoughts ran rampant. “Well, make sure you eat and drink something to help with the blood loss. I’d say something with some sugar. Oh! Nina was by earlier, brought some new pie. You might like it.”

“Y/N?” He tried but you pretended not to hear him.

“I’ll come check on it in the morning, if that’s alright. Make sure no infection has set in and you still have your wits.”

“That’s all?”

“Is there anything else?” You cringed slightly at the desperation in your voice.

“You tell me.”

You swallowed the thoughts that threatened to embarrass you further and simply nodded, lips pressed tightly to a line. You moved to grab your fallen book but once your eyes went down, Kaz seemed to know your intention. Of course he did. You immediately stopped when you saw his movements, the stretch of his long yet muscle bound bare limbs.

You also realized he was still shirtless.

You turned on your heel instead and briskly walked out the room. You made sure the door was firmly shut behind you and then you practically ran to your own room. You all but slammed the door and dropped your kit to your desk. You yanked off the remaining glove and pushed your hands into your hair. You let out an uneven breath and tried once more to piece together the night.

You were reading in Kaz’s office. He came in, covered in blood. You cleaned him up and he smiled at you. He said he loved you.

You laughed slightly and then put a hand to your mouth.

“Oh Saints, I’ve gone mad.” You said to yourself. You shook your head and decided to sleep it off.

But your dreams were simply replays of that damn smile.

The next morning, you dragged your feet to get ready. You brushed your hair and teeth, then washed your face leisurely. You knew Kaz was likely already waiting for your promised arrival and he’d have some comment locked and loaded, just itching for an opportunity, but that only made you want to avoid it more. But the deal was the deal.

You tucked a pair of gloves into your pocket and cut a new bandage wrap from your fabric pile before you headed to see him. You greeted the few Dregs that were up at the early hour before you hesitated outside his office.

You tugged on the collar of your shirt, just so you didn’t pat your pocket, and shifted on your feet. You hated the fact that you were dreading something you were good at, simply because you had gotten something you had only dreamed of. And for what? Because you couldn’t believe it? Because you decided to want something so simple from the one person it always seemed so improbable from?

Then again, improbability wasn’t impossibility.

“Why are we staring?” Jesper whispered loudly and you jumped. “It’s just a door.”

“Ha ha.” You said sarcastically and jammed your elbow into his ribs. “And it’s not that I’m staring. I’m stalling, it’s different.”

“Okay… Why are you stalling? Meeting with the boss you don’t wanna deal with?”

“Of a sort.” You nodded. “Do you think…”

“Wylan would say no but I beg to differ.” He shrugged and glanced over with a wide grin. “What’s on your mind?”

You nodded towards Kaz’s door.

“What’d he do this time?” Jesper sighed and his smile fell.

“When he’s come back after having the ever-loving shit kicked out of him, have you ever heard him say anything strange?” You tried to keep it vague. Telling Jesper was just as bad as screaming it across the Barrel. You loved your friend but he was a gossip.

He gasped dramatically, thus confirming your hesitation. “Is there news?”

“Maybe… I’m hopeful, don’t get me wrong, but I also can’t convince myself it happened.”

“Well, what was it?”

“So you can tell all of Ketterdam and get us both in trouble?” You laughed. “No way.”

“Oh, come on!” He tried.

You shook your head with a smile and knocked on the office door. After a second, you could hear the tapping of his cane coming closer. You looked back at Jesper, who was still staring with wide, pleading puppy-dog eyes. The door cracked open so you shot your friend a wink and ducked inside.

“You took your time.” Kaz complained once you shut the door.

“Good morning to you too.” You rolled your eyes, both glad and disappointed to be back to your usual banter. You turned and found him sitting in your chair, cane resting against the arm while he rubbed out his bad leg. “How do you feel?”

He shrugged. You could’ve been mistaken, but he seemed more irritated than usual.

You made a face to yourself and crossed the room. You stopped a few inches from him, not even letting your shoes touch, and leaned in quietly. His eyes went wide for a moment and it almost seemed like he had a forward lean of his own. Your eyes were on the cut of his forehead, checking the length of it once then twice then a third time just for the hell of it.

But even with your focus on the injury, you could see the movement of his own eyes. Darting between yours, following the shape of your jaw, your lips, trailing down your neck.

“That one looks good.” You leaned away and nodded. “You didn't feel any sort of dizziness or sickness after I left?”

He seemed to lose himself in his thoughts before he answered you. You knelt in front of him, nudging his knees apart. The jostle seemed to bring him back to the moment, which caused a new flash of surprise. You wondered for a second if it meant something in your favor or if he was feeling some sort of after effect from the fight.

“Kaz?” You tried waving a hand in front of his face. “Is something wrong?”

He reached out and took your hand in his. You said nothing, but your expression betrayed you. Kaz let out a small chuckle and let himself smile again, smaller than the one that threw you last night but still genuine. Your eyes were wide and soft in awe at the simple contact but coming on the heels of the confessions last night, it had to have some weight.

“Nothing’s wrong.” He said quietly. “Truthfully, Y/N, I worried I had misunderstood you.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed.

“Do you remember what you said last night?”

You winced. “In painful detail, yes.”

He chuckled again and you lost the fight to hide a smile. “I thought about it all night.”

“Really?”

“I wondered if I had misheard you, if I had misread your cues.”

“Hang on.” You cut in, snapping into focus as if you had been hit with cold water. “Cues? I wasn’t giving cues.”

“Really?” He challenged lightly. “Should I list them?”

“Please do, but while you try and embarrass me, unbutton your shirt so I can check your side.”

“Those wide eyes that always find me in a room.” He pointed to your eyes before taking off his gloves to work the buttons. “You ask something specific of me then change it to mean everyone. The way you curl up in this chair and face my desk, pretending to read but you’re looking over your book towards me. Hell, even the way you say my name.”

“That’s… a good list.” You said carefully, admittedly embarrassed. You dropped your eyes and pulled the gloves from your pocket.

“Do you want to know what really convinced me?”

“Not particularly but I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.” You confessed with a sigh. Once your gloves were fitted to your hands, you leaned an elbow on his knee and looked back at him.

He leaned in as if to tell you a secret, though it was likely just to free some space while he wriggled out of his shirt sleeves. You wanted to lean in and meet him, finally kiss him, but you knew better. Instead, you forced your eyes to stay on his side. You tried not to let your gaze wander across his muscle-bound, scar-riddled torso.

Focus, Y/N.

You shifted to sit up on your knees and reached in. Your rubber covered fingers met his skin carefully and you gently prodded and pulled on the injury.

“Nothing to say anymore?” You asked lightly, hoping to break the now thick tension.

You dared a glance at his face and his eyes were closed, head leaning against the back of the chair. Your movements froze as you simply looked at him. He almost looked content, so much softer when his eyes were closed. It was small moments like that that made you forget he was the Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands Brekker. He was someone to be feared. Men with any sense wouldn’t dare to cross him. Women with any sense swooned and batted their lashes for his attention. Kids with any sense feared their closets because the monsters come from there.

But to you, especially in those fleeting vulnerable instances, he was just Kaz. And that was always enough for you.

You shook the thought and went back to your examination. You ran your fingers over the length of the wound and frowned when you realized one of the stitches were looser than it should’ve been.

“Were you messing with these last night?” You accused quickly.

“What?” He finally spoke. “No.”

“Dammit.” You cursed and pulled your hands away. You dropped to sit on your heels and blew a sigh while you threw the gloves on the floor in annoyance. “It’s not as tight as I’d like it to be. Must’ve been the gloves.”

“Do you need to fix it?”

You looked over at the discarded gloves and frowned. “More practice is what I need.” You muttered before looking back at Kaz. “It should be okay. It’s clean so as long as you keep it covered, it won’t bleed through your clothes or anything… But it’ll scar for sure now.”

He shrugged. “What’s one more?”

“You never told me what tipped you off.” You said, looping back to the prior conversation.

You knew you should’ve left, let the unspoken thing between you two stay unspoken, but you also knew you needed closure. You needed to know with certainty if your pining was obvious. If you needed to pack up and run from your embarrassment. Maybe Inej would let you join her crew next time she came to port.

He held his hand out to you and you went for it, then hesitated. You kept your hand just out of his reach before closing your fingers to create just a bit more space. The idea of putting your hand in his - his bare hand - was something you had only dreamed about. You heard him make a noise of impatience at your hesitation and he leaned forward again to take your hand in his.

“You’re always careful of my space.” He began carefully. It was a list he knew, something he had drafted and gone over a million times in the past few weeks. Or maybe it was months. It could’ve been years for all Kaz could tell. Everything with you seemed to come together in the best and worst ways. “You’re careful of contact.”

“Because I know you don’t like it.” You shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone seem to avoid you for one reason or another?”

“Well, yes, but you do it to be considerate not because you’re afraid.”

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Kaz took a deep breath and his eyes finally met yours. You could see the war raging behind his eyes. The contact of your hand in his must’ve been driving him insane. You could see his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, like he had to consciously force the air in and out of his lungs. His jaw was tense. Hell, his whole body was wound tight as elastic, ready to snap. To shove you away, to scream at you, to start a fight neither of you would hold back in. But he didn’t. He willed himself to maintain the contact, even when you gave the slightest tug to free your hand.

“No.” He finally spoke. “Never you.”

“What are…” You tried, but the question wouldn’t form. What was he thinking? Why wasn’t he letting go? Why was he tormenting himself just to hold your hand?

“When I felt your gloves last night, it all made sense.” He explained and the grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly. “I knew I hadn’t been crazy.”

“I might be.” You said mindlessly and he chuckled.

“We both might be.” He agreed. “But still… You didn’t have to use gloves, but you did, because you wanted to be able to help me. Right?”

“Someone has to.” You tried to sound casual.

“They don’t.” He corrected. “But you want to.”

“Because I care about you, Kaz. You’ve been my friend for years. I’d hate to lose you.”

“Do you love me, Y/N? Truly.”

You swallowed hard, licking your lips to stall. Your free hand twitched and knowing your pockets were empty, you tugged on your shirt to adjust the fabric. Suddenly, the room felt very warm.

“I…” You began slowly. “You’re still holding my hand.”

“Yes.”

“Without your gloves.”

He let out a shuddering breath. “Yes.”

“And that doesn’t make you want to run?”

“It does.” He answered tightly. “But I don’t want to run from you.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You put your other hand on his knee. “Let go, Kaz.”

“No.”

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because how can I be with the woman I love if I cannot bring myself to touch her?” He answered quickly and your eyes went wide. “If I cannot hold her hand or touch her face, her lips… If I cannot bring myself to hold her, what kind of love is that?”

“If she truly loves you, she’ll bear it.” You offered.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” His expression shifted slightly to relief. “Yes, you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

“So I didn’t imagine it last night? You said you loved me first.”

“Truthfully, I was worried I had imagined it all. But I couldn’t stop thinking about those damned gloves and how I wanted to feel your touch without them… Just be honest with me, Y/N. Do you want this?”

“Of course I do.” You said without thinking. “But I can’t ask you to torture yourself just to be with me.”

“You’re always so gentle.” He spoke softly, admiringly even, and it made you blush. “You don’t have to be so with me. I can take it.”

“And you shouldn’t have to.” You managed to wiggle your hand free and you watched his chest rise and fall with a heavy sigh of relief. “I do love you, Kaz, in a way that scares me. But I won’t be the reason you force yourself to do something you can’t.”

You stood and reached for the book you left the night before.

“No one forces me, Y/N.” He stood in front of, one small step to block your reach. “I want to do this for you.”

“Don’t make me move you.”

“You wouldn’t push a cripple without his cane, would you?” He feigned innocence.

“I’m serious, Brekker. Let me get my book so I can go and you can think this through.”

“I’ve spent weeks thinking it through.” He shook his head. “I want to try. For you, yes, but also myself… I want to hold you and kiss you and touch you for myself.”

“If I give in and if I’m with you.” You said firmly, pointing your finger near his face. “We need to be very open about limits. I won’t push and I expect you to stop when you need to.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted sarcastically and you had to refrain from kicking him in the shin. “Anything else?”

“You need to give me your word, Kaz.”

“Don’t trust me?” He raised a brow.

“I trust you with my life you buffoon.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile. “But I need to know you’ll commit yourself to what I’m asking.”

“Y/N, darling. I give you my word, on any and all Saints you want to invoke, that I will take that time I need so long as you’ll let me.”

“Good.” You nodded. You thought if there was anything else you could or should have him agree to. Your mind was blank so you shoved your hands into your pockets. “I suppose that means we’re together now.”

He grinned and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Finally.” He said and you could tell he was truly happy. “Can I kiss you?”He took a step closer.

You freed a hand and gingerly brushed your fingers along his temple, sneaking into his hair for a second. He gasped but you noticed he didn’t flinch. Feather-light, your touch went along the angle of his jaw and danced down his neck, curved with his shoulder, and skimmed his arm until you reached his hand. He interlaced his fingers with yours and you felt his other hand under your chin, tilting your head back.

“If you’re sure you can bear it.” You said quietly.

#kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz dirtyhands brekker #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #six of crows x you #six of crows x reader #six of crows fic #six of crows fanfic #six of crows #dirtyhands brekker #kaz x reader #kaz x you #kaz x yn #kaz x y/n #kaz brekker x yn

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jals-stuff · 6 months

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Some Rayne brainrot...

this is some stupid (and a bit horny??? no? yes? i don't know) stuff that went through my mind last night

MDNI PLEASE! this spawned in my head, no context

warnings: female reader, rayne is ooc and pervy, he is staring, dubcon (bit steamy at the end), bit of swearing, bit of horniness, mentions of boobies and peen...

i am very sorry, i wrote this with 0 hours of sleep. barely proofread. enjoy

Rayne Ames. The Divine Visionary, the Sword Cane.

If you watch animal documentaries, you are probably aware that cheetahs can stay in the same position for up to sixteen hours without moving at all…

Well, it so happens that Rayne’s facial expression is like a cheetah. He somehow always looks like you’ve told him a really bad pun, and he’s judging you for it (not funny, did not laugh). He probably even has this face on while he sleeps, eats, showers, and probably even while he decides to please himself.

And yet, despite looking annoyed every second of the day, despite looking like the unfriendliest guy in the whole Academy, he looks absolutely stunning. Anyone would agree that Rayne Ames is a feast on the eyes. And you, as his seatmate in class, aren’t one to deny this.

.....................................................................

It was your last class hour for today and you couldn’t wait to go back to your dorm room and rot in bed like the absolute lazybone you were. Changing out of your uniform was now an emergency, as the shirt you had picked today was somehow way too tight for you.

Being clueless with basic things such as laundry had its pros and cons. Sure, your clothes were smaller now and you could barely fit; but it made you look incredibly sexy! …or so you kept telling yourself. Maybe you were just trying to cope with the fact that you were incredibly bad at basic human tasks.

You made your way to the classroom and got your notebook out.

Today’s subject was pure theory, and you would’ve fallen asleep if you didn’t have the most scrumptious distraction sitting right next to you. You spent the hour doodling, taking notes whenever you paid enough attention to do so, and mostly throwing quick glances at your seatmate, Rayne, who was way too focused on the soporific theoretical experiments your elderly professor was passionately explaining, to pay attention to you.

When the old man turned around to write something on the blackboard, Rayne finally turned a fraction of his attention towards you. Of course, this happened during the minuscule amount of time you weren’t looking at him, and he took notice of a few things.

First of all, your notes were an absolute mess. Instead of trying to keep them consistent, you had picked a few words the teacher said, and chose to throw them into an adventure with other words, picked at different moments during class, resulting in an abomination that wouldn’t make sense, even to you. But you wouldn’t know, of course, since you never read your notes anyway.

He would give you bonus points for the adorable little bunnies you had been doodling for the majority of your time in class, though.

Secondly, you seemed like you were about to sleep, but given the way you were taking notes, everything sort of made sense. Not your notes though, only the fact that you weren’t invested enough to stay awake.

Third of all, your shirt. He wished his eyes hadn’t lingered for such a long time on it. Why was it so tight? “Is she so dumb she can’t even do laundry?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that the button that kept your shirt closed around the chest area had the strength of a thousand lions.

His eyes moved back to your face, and at this very moment, you chose to look at him. Your eyes met, and his expression was, as always, unreadable. Was he bored? Upset? Annoyed? At this point you were pretty sure he didn’t know any better. But it seemed a bit different this time, you could’ve sworn you saw his lower lid twitching slightly.

You decided to turn your attention back to the teacher— or at least pretend to, for a while, and it lasted for a whopping fifty seconds. Efforts had been made! You deemed yourself deserving of a little treat, and an attempt was made to look at Rayne once again.

His eyes were still on you. Now it really felt like he was upset. You were used to his icy glare but it was getting a little uncomfortable, and so, as one does, you had a great shitty idea. You decided that stretching your back could maybe help you release some of this discomfort, and your button, may it rest in peace, gave up on its sole task of keeping your shirt closed.

You couldn’t tell where it went at all. In fact, you didn’t even notice, but you did feel a little more comfortable now that your chest area was no longer being compressed, except it was in a literal meaning now, and not just figuratively speaking. You could still feel Rayne’s eyes on you, and decided that you wouldn’t look at him for the rest of this oh so boring class.

What you hadn’t noticed was that his eyes were no longer on your face, but rather on the missing button’s previous spot. “Is she so dumb she can’t take care of her clothing?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that he could now clearly see your bra.

He could see that one mesmerising spot where your breasts were pushing in a wondrous effort to get out of their insufferable lace prison. In fact, pretty much anyone could’ve seen it if they had turned around, but it seemed this professor was either hypnotic or soporific because everyone was staring in his direction.

You were then blissfully unaware of the fact that Rayne was now leading an internal battle. He had to get his eyes off of your cleavage, for your breasts were not the only things screaming for freedom anymore. Ah, perhaps Rayne was also bad at laundry, because his pants felt increasingly tight the longer he stared at you.

Divine Visionary or not, he was but a man, and what power does a man hold when presented with sweet bosoms? None. That’s right. He tried to think about anything else. Rabbits? His little brother, Finn? The concerning relationship Lance had with his little sister? The way alcoholism thrived amongst the ranks of the State police? No matter what went through his head, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

He had to do something about it, and you were probably not escaping this one.

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As soon as the bell rang, he closed his coat as much as he could, and grabbed your arm before you could leave, and this time you could tell he was pretty upset. Why? How could you know? You didn’t know anything. Had your head not been attached to your shoulders, you would’ve probably lost it already.

Instead of giving you any sort of explanation, he immediately dragged you with him. Your life felt like a movie that was playing in front of your eyes. My time has come, you thought, but… not quite.

You found yourself in Rayne’s dorm room, locked in with him. His roommate wasn’t there, and it was clear this crime would leave no witnesses.

It took him half a second to remove his coat and— oh. You were suddenly in Egypt.

Everything was there: the stone hard pyramid, the Sphinx (that seemed ready to pounce on you), and the heat. Oh boy, the heat. As a very refined lady (yes you are), you brought your hand to your chest in indignation, and oh, how distraught you felt when you realised that your beloved chest button was nowhere to be seen. It was all starting to make sense.

Without a word, he pushed you against the wall and his lips met yours in a rough, steamy kiss. Your whole body felt like it was on fire; his toned chest was pressing against yours and breaking your buttons further, his clothed erection was slightly rubbing against your clit through your panties and his hands roamed your body hungrily while his tongue left no corner of your mouth unexplored.

It was all a lot to take in but it felt so intoxicating, the way his large hands held onto your hips to keep you from squirming too much underneath his passionate touch, and how his teeth were grazing against your lips while a mixture of both your salivas dripped from the corner of your mouth.

His body was grinding against yours like waves on the beach, and both your breathings were becoming increasingly noisy. Only after long, delicious minutes of this make-out session did he break the kiss, panting for air, as he looked into your eyes with a lustful gaze you were now used to seeing.

It wasn't your first time pushing his buttons like this, and it certainly wasn't your last.

“You did it on purpose, admit it.”

Whaaat, you? Pfffft, never! But… let’s just say you’re not usually that bad at doing your laundry.

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smol reminder that i am very bored and i also take requests for mashle, hsr, genshin, jjk, elsword, tower of fantasy...

xoxo

#rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #mashle x reader #mashle #rayne x reader #magic and muscles #anime #anime character #mashle smut #rayne ames smut #rayne smut

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whorekneecentral · 9 months

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A Sandy Christmas

Sugar Daddy!Jenson Button x Fem!Reader

Warnings: the iconic sugar daddy JB, college aged reader (over 20), expensive vacations, gift giving is his love language, you're both soooo all up on each other, the use of daddy both in a sexual and non sexual context, thanking him in good way ;), oral (m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, some old man teasing at the end.

Word Count: 1,714

Author's Note: this is for my og jenson girlies that were here from the start, dedicated to the anon that sent in the first sd!jb ask cause you started all of this pookie!!

merry smutmas series

Jenson takes you on a dream vacation over the holidays but still makes sure you’ve got a gift to open come Christmas morning.

Exam season is killing you, mentally and physically.

Every bone in your body hurt from being hunched over at your desk for 18 hours a day and your brain felt like it was going to explode if you kept it up for much longer.

Jenson knew as much and he also knew your exam schedule; he couldn't bear to see his girl like that so he did the one thing he did best.

He whisked you away the moment your final exam was over. He knew it'd be a welcomed distraction given that you'd be returning home for the new years; your obnoxious sister was getting married to her high school sweetheart - you'd rather fall down the stairs than attend the wedding but Jenson promised to take you in to trade your car for a new one if you went.

To be fair, he did just get you the car 2 years ago but he figured he needed some sort of reward to get you to go. If he could join you at the wedding, he would but alas he can't.

Sunny Bora Bora was a welcomed distraction; the sunshine, the beaches, the endless cocktails and cock, were keeping you happy.

The first few days were you and Jenson rolling around in bed, lazing and eating whenever, barely getting dressed and spending sun up to sun down on the beach. You had everything you needed right there.

Despite it just being you and Jenson, he rented a whole villa. All the privacy in the world for you two; it was more so, so he could fuck you anywhere he liked but I digress.

Christmas morning and you're woken not by the sunshine but the feeling of Jenson's stubble on your neck.

"Merry Christmas, pretty girl."

You hum, a hand on his jaw. "Merry Christmas, Jense."

"C'mon, I have something to show you." He whispers in your ear, not giving you a moment to gather yourself. Instead he pulls you out of bed, his hand in yours as you sleepily follow him though the villa.

There's a massive Christmas tree by the windows, right in the middle but that was there when you arrived. What wasn't there before were all the gifts surrounding the tree.

"Jenson," you stop, looking at him. There's a grin on his face. "You didn't."

"I couldn't let Christmas pass without giving you a gift." He smiles, kissing your temple as he sits on the couch.

"We agreed that this trip was my Christmas gift."

"But the trip is for me too, so it can't count. Loophole baby," he raises his eyebrows, almost as high as his ego. You huff, "this is more than a gift, Jenson."

"You're a good girl, I'd buy you the world if I could." He tells you, smiling as you kiss him.

"I don't need the world, Jenson." You tell him, sitting in front of the tree. There are at least 20 bags and boxes neatly wrapped and set under the tree.

"I'd still buy it for you, princess." He smiles, taking a sip of his coffee as you unwrapped your gifts one by one; Gucci, Prada, Van Clef, Louis Vuitton - you name it, it was under the tree.

You had no idea how you'd get it all back home.

You thank him, doing a little try on haul as you unwrap the gifts. Jenson smiles, sitting comfortable as he watches you model your gifts for him.

"Happy?" He asks, patting his thigh. You sit yourself on his lap, an arm over his shoulder as you lean into him.

"Beyond happy," you whispered against his lips. "Thank you daddy."

"Anything for you, baby."

The two of you go about your day, you'll be leaving your little paradise tomorrow and returning to reality so you were trying to soak up the last of the sunshine. Lazing by the water, you watched as Jenson attempted to surf, gave up and decided on a swim instead, the man came back to kiss you, dripping the sea water all over you.

You push him away, giggling as he tries to grab at you. You rolled away, getting up and running from him; Jenson chased you down the beach right back to the villa.

Jenson planned dinner for the two of you, a little restaurant not too far from your villa. You wined and dined, chatting about his work and your plans not to strangle your sister with her veil. He assured you that you'd be fine and that as soon as the wedding was over, you could return home to him.

Upon returning, you decide to pack. This way you two could spend more time in bed in the morning rather than having to rush and pack then.

Jenson's back is to you as you bring in the last of your presents from the living room. He'd manage to fold what you had brought with you into the one suitcase opposed to the two it was in originally and had been trying to fix your gifts into the empty one.

He feels your arm wrap around his waist, fingers drumming against his midriff as you watch him put the boxes into the suitcase.

You're on your tiptoes, a kiss pressed to his jaw; Jenson thinks it's innocent enough and yet, he feels your lips drop lower. From his jaw to his neck and your fingers are pulling at his shirt collar, trying to expose more skin.

"Sweetheart," he whispers, swatting away your wandering hands. "We need to pack."

"Mhm hm," you turn him to face you, your hand on his jaw when you kiss him. Jenson leans on the edge of the bed, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him

He was easy like that, a kiss from you and he's like putty in your hands.

He watches as your fingers trail down the front of his shirt, sliding under the hem of it. Jenson takes that as his hint to take it off, tossing it on the floor somewhere. Your hand wanders further down, brushing over the cold metal of his belt.

Jenson smiles, pecking your lips softly. "Let me thank you," you whispered against his lips. His brows furrow, "what for?"

"Everything," you tell him, sinking down onto your knees in front of him.

Jenson undoes his belt and the button, “open.”

Without hesitation, your mouth opens and you’re looking up at him once again. He slaps your tongue with his cock softly, waiting for a reaction. The slight curve of your lips was enough for him to know it was okay. A hand tangled in your hair, pulling and pushing you, setting the pace.

The stifled gag was enough for him to pull back, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

His eyes fixed on you as your lips wrap around his cock, his chest dropping and raising with each breath.

He can’t help but notice the lipstick on the base of his cock, your head bobbing up and down. Jenson's hand pulls your hair away from your face, letting you set the pace.

His hand turns over and you feel his knuckles brush along your cheek. “Like being on your knees for me, hm? My good girl.”

The praise hits you straight in the core, only making you go faster. Your cheeks hollow as you bob your head up and down. Jenson's hips buck, your nose brushing against him.

His head falls back against the couch, breathing out a string of explicits as you hollow your cheeks. “C’mere.” He pulls you off him slowly, savouring the feeling of your tongue sliding up the underside of his cock.

You kiss him, the moan slipping from your lips as he manhandles you.

“Turn around,” he whispers against your lips, a hand on your hip as he turns you around to face the bed.

Your arms are propped on the mattress, holding yourself up. He pushes your dress up, bunching over your hips. His hand slips between your thighs, fingers brushing over your panties and your head drops forward.

Panties pushed to the side and Jenson reached forward, a hand tangled in your hair to pull you up, forcing you to look at the reflection in the window. His other hand holds your hip once he pushes into you.

“See,” he mumbles to himself, glancing down between the two of you before his eyes meet yours in the reflection. “Look how pretty you are,” he whispers, kissing along the back of your shoulder as his hips dig into your ass.

The knot in your stomach tightens when his hand on your hip slips down between your legs, reaching for your clit. He barely moves his fingers before your own hand reaches down to rest on his. The feeling of his fingers pulls your attention.

"Please daddy-" you're cut off by a moan and by Jenson pushing you down onto the bed.

You prop yourself up on your forearms once again, eyes fixed on anything but what he was doing.

He could feel you clenching around him, pushing back into him for more.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, I know.” He tells you, thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

The two of you in sync, Jenson's chest pressed to your back as you came down from your orgasm. He peppered kisses all over your back, rubbing your side softly. He leans to press a kiss to your neck before pulling out slowly.

You can feel Jenson wiping your thighs and between your legs, cleaning you up before fixing your dress. You're still facedown in the mattress, too fucked out to even think about moving at the moment. He senses as much, giving you a push by the ass and up onto the bed you went.

The clink of his belt comes from behind you, the man fixing his pants - you assumed he'd be joining you in bed but instead, you heard some sort of shuffling behind you.

Rolling you, you see that Jenson had resumed his packing from before.

"You know," you start, sitting up. "Most men your age are dead to the world after a fuck like that."

Jenson laughs, walking over to you. His hand cups your jaw, "I'm not like most guys my age."

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#merry smutmas xoxo #jenson button #jenson button smut #jenson button x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut #sugar daddy!jenson

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threepandas · 2 months

Text

Bad End: Mama Mine

I woke, that first time, to the most beautiful child I had ever seen. Even through a fever that felt like it was cooking me from within, I could see she was different. It was honestly impossible not too. She looked cherubic. Angelic. Impossible, somehow. As though favored by the gods.

Even in worn, threadbare, patched then re-patched old clothes, so far from new as to have forgotten the name of it, she looked... like a dancer. Beautiful. A tiny painting brought to life. I couldn't understand, delirious as I was. I thought I was hallucinating. Worried her terribly.

She was just a small thing. Trying her best. Too care for her sick mother. She could barely reach the stove. Struggled to carry the buckets of water she needed, to cook and wipe my fevered sweat away. But she let nothing stop her. So determined to save me. Her little face so filled with love and worry, forever a step away from tears.

She was so afraid.

How could I do anything but love her back?

Disoriented or not. Lost and confused I may be. I had a child. Any plan I made? Would be for two. I had never really seen myself a mother, but cast into the role? I refused to abandon the child who loved and needed me. Who was innocent in all this.

Instead, as my fever broke, I held her close. Told her she had been so, so brave. Let her cry. Cuddled my little girl and gave myself a moment to just... breathe.

Then in the morning I got to work.

I appeared to be a single mother. A PEASANT single mother. Delightful. We had little to nothing to our name. I could try and fix that, I think. I knew a few crafts. But I had "forgotten" everything practical. Great. Luckily? I had a VERY observant little helper. Who remembered most of how everything was done.

I could context clues from there.

We made due.

Cleaned up the house, washed the linens, aired everything out. In bits and pieces, using half remembered wiki binges and crafting videos, I improved our little homestead somewhat. It wasn't by MUCH. I didn't have the skills. But it looked... nicer, I think. Homey.

We foraged. Sold hunted animals and things we had found. The occasional baked good. More then that? I tried to make time for my daughter. Keep her away from powerful eyes. The sort that might covet a pretty young thing. Taught her what I could.

Not just how to braid her beautiful hair, but that her beauty did not define her. That love was wonderful but not all there was to life. Too be wary of empty promises and watch for how the powerful treat those that they deem weaker then them. To lead with a smile but be prepared to throw her fist.

Also don't eat those mushrooms, honey, those are the poisonous ones.

I wish... Honestly? I wish I could have given my daughter a better childhood. Better education then the lessons scratched in dirt I was able. If I'd been able to REMEMBER. To recognize. Maybe I would have scrimped and saved more for third or forth hand textbooks, instead of the new hunting knife she so badly wanted.

But I didn't remember.

And as we were visiting town? PROPER town as opposed to our little settlement? I heard about wealthy, comparatively, family's having their children tested for... magic?

I faltered but adapted. Was it that much stranger then being transported into a new body and world? Magic it was then, I guess. Huh. We continued shopping. I bought my daughter a new sturdy pair of boots. Room to grow, would serve her well. She adored them. They had FLOWERS on them, mama! I couldn't help but laugh. Ah, my daughter is so cute!

Then I saw it.

As we passed the temple square. The only building in this whole town that could count as ostentatious. Some silk clad toddler broke from the pressing crowds, no doubt displeased with being crushed in on all sides. He wriggled free. Back from the steps and out into the road. Blind to the mortal peril he had just put himself in as the carriage of some wealthy To-Do raced carelessly down the street. Looking around, innocent, as only a toddler can as he wandered farther and farther from safety.

I dropped my shopping.

The world fuzzy and muffled, far away in my panic. Some Mother's instinct SCREAMING as I raced forward. Throwing a few people aside to reach the road. Then bolting. Distantly I heard my daughter scream, another scream as they finally notice, too late, their child was in mortal peril. But all I could see... was the little boy. Turning. Noticing. The big scary horses.

About to crush him to death.

Time felt slow.

I got there.

Then PAIN.

Far away, people were screaming. A child was crying. Small and terrified in my arms. Some arrogant voice was first demanding, then stuttering, then begging. A frantic voice, joined by others. Rich perfume. The... the child reaching for someone. Safe? Safe. I let go. Tried to smile. Ah... my daughters voice. Crying. Shhhh, shhhh. I'm sorry. It's okay. I'm sorry.

Ah... there... there was so much blood.....

Then there was LIGHT.

Like someone had cupped the sky itself and poured it directly onto me. Blue. So light and weightless and blue. The pain vanished as though erased. New agony and old aches alike. My eyes blinked open in suprise. And there? Tear stained and glowing? Was my daughter.

Like the sky itself had wrapped around her. Sunlight and blue sky and drifting clouds. Swirling like she was the world itself. Her eyes filled with tears when they connected with mine. With a choked cry, she through herself into my arms. Oh, baby. My poor baby. I wrapped my arms around her tight. Hugged her back for all I was worth.

"Your daughter?" A gentle voice asked.

I looked up. What HAD to be a noble woman sat, skirts ruined, in the dirt and blood at my head. Clutching desperately at the toddler I had saved. I could only nod. Understanding passed between us. Mother to mother.

Which is why, when a priest with covetous eyes came forward?

The noble women's smile turned cold.

She had changed her mind. She was, in fact, going to have her son tested by the temple closer to home. AND? She was going to be taking us with her. I agreed. Immediately and before anyone could try to seperate us. Daughter mine, darling, honey, Get In The Carriage. NOW.

We got out of there while the getting was still possible.

It was safe to assume, my new noble friend eventually said, that my daughter had magic. But what did that mean for us? Well, according to Nation Law? (Oh goodie. Laws I know nothing about.) She would have to attend the Royal Magica Academy.

What.

I knew that name. I KNEW that name! My jaw was surely on the floor, my daughter squeeking out flustered and rambling questions at my side. But... but all I could do? Was slowly turn to look at her. She was healthier then the game cover. Not as "that's not what real women look like!" Thin that... that in hindsight? Was probably prolonged food scarcity. Starvation.

She was taller too. Less... oh god, less "child like". That had to have been malnutrition. Stunted growth.

The way her hair shown, soft and healthy. The brightness to her skin and nails. Clarity to her eyes. Fullness to her cheeks. She was hardly even within sight of being a plump child, more muscle then anything, from a life of work and survival, but? She wasn't... waifish. I had made sure of that.

Even if it meant sacrificing my own meals to do so.

But I could SEE it. Could SEE the familiar features. The curling hair and doe like grey eyes. The generic princess character that I had been playing right before... before... God, I couldn't even remember the game's NAME. Just the plot. It had been mid at best. Magnificent art. Everyone raving there was some secret twist after the first play through.

So I grit my teeth a pushed through the generic. Tried to figure out what it was.

Never did get the chance. I died before the second play through and the twist everyone insisted made the game awesome. Now I wish I had caved and looked up spoilers. I tried to remember the mother. Did she die? What happens to my baby girl? Should I push her towards one man or another? Let her follow her heart?

It's a long, long night.

We stay in a guest room. Fancier then anything I've ever seen in this life. I keep my daughter calm. Help her avoid embarrassing herself. Tips for when in doubt. See, honey? It's a learning opportunity! No need to panic! Mama's certainly not, on the inside! She's very calm. Completely, utterly, definitely very ultra calm. Ha ha...

I think my soul had a panic attack.

Things moved very quickly after that. In the end, they had too, if I was to keep my daughter safe. The temple would want to train her. Her magic was apparently quite rare. Religiously significant. And being so lovely? She would make an EXCELLENT propaganda peice. A figurehead and puppet, forevermore in gilded chains.

Everything I feared for her.

No. That was NOT going to happen.

The Academy it was. Nobles and their games aside. The education would be unparalleled. She could probably even make friends. Possibly find love. I told her to Be CAREFUL. That is was a treacherous but beautiful place. Filled with powerful people used to getting their way. Do whatever she must to survive. Thrive. Be happy.

And remember, she is loved.

I...Returning home alone felt like ripping my heart out. I had thought I would have years, yet, before my daughter married and moved out. That I would have time to adjust. Get used to the idea, as my future son-in-law came around. Instead? I returned from a trip to emptiness. A life interrupted.

My daughters sewing, still resting, waiting for her, on the kitchen table.

I collapsed. Weeping. In the entryway.

My tiny home had never felt so vast and hollow.

Days passed. Then weeks. Finally, a letter arrived. Delivered by a very uncomfortable servant. The man checking more then once if I was TRUELY who he was supposed to deliver too. Clearly more then a little uncomfortable in the presence of such poverty. I did not care. I had a letter, thick with writing, from my daughter.

She was doing well.

MORE then well. My lessons had actually put her ahead of the curve in several classes, much to the shock and outrage of her peers. They had expected poverty to equal mental deficiency, it seems. And the library was quickly making up for any classes she was behind in. That's my girl!

She had made several friends that way. Quiet young ladies, willing to help her make sense of the complexities of history or magical theory. From nice, stable, neutral houses, too. No tea parties yet. Or boys. But I didn't care.

My baby had FRIENDS!

I sent a care package of her things back. Not indiscriminately, of course. But tools and notes, a few unfinished projects she had been working on to pass the time. Some snacks from home. They would likely still embarrass her somewhat, but... I did not want her to think I did not CARE. That I had tossed her towards that Academy and promptly forgotten her.

The servant, Geoffrey, and I got to see quite a lot of each other.

He got over the state of my house rather quickly. Instead, started bringing things he "just happened to have lying around" that would you look at THAT? I happened to need! Between letters on my daughter's meeting, then dramas, with pretty wealthy boys? Geoffrey helped me repair my roof. I mended his uniform. We shared new year's festivities together.

I even went to the actual festival, like I was some sort of lovely young thing.

As my daughter grew closer to graduation, the questions started. If I could go anywhere, where would it be? If I could do anything? What if I never had to work again? I wasn't a fool. Told her in no uncertain terms. If I EVER suspected she married for anything less then love and herself, I would disown her.

I did not sacrifice so that my daughter would SUFFER.

However... it seemed there was more then a few things my daughter had left from her letters. The next letter arrived in the hand of a man that wore Geoffrey's face, but even as I walked back towards my cabin from the forest... I knew.

That was not the man I had grown to love.

When the imposter turned, no doubt to lie, I RAN. Dropping my harvest of foraged wild greens. I had been planning to make a dish for him. One he was fond off. Perhaps my daughter's magic came from me, my line instead of her unknown father, or perhaps I had just enough to give it wings. To carry her to term.

Because...

I knew he was dead.

They pursued me. Of course they did. But this was a forest I had wandered for years. I lost them in the trees. Attacked them with rocks and stones. Destroyed my trails with rocks and rivers. Every hunter I crossed paths with an ally. Every hunting trap a peril I could lead them into. They were good.

I was better.

But more came.

Then more. And more. And MORE.

And I was not so good as to fend of a legion. I would not risk the village for some nobles scheme. I was dragged, bloody, bruised before some arrogant little sadist. A nasty little creature, like a porcelain doll filled with bile. What an utter waste of good fabric. I told her as much. Interrupt her sneering little monolog.

The backhand across the face barely hurt.

Toddlers had more muscle.

Unfortunate for this brat. My daughter had arrived in time to see that. And worse for this brat, she brought her friends and suitors. A veritable crowd of power and influence. The brat did not have the common sense to shut up while she was ahead. Even I, a peasant, could recognize royalty on sight. There were at least two of them before us.

MY daughter was not as merciful as the Cannon Protagonist had been.

It was a blood bath.

I tried to stay awake. Head wounds and all that. I... I had wanted to introduce Geoffrey to my daughter. Hinted at it, over my letters. I would... would never get the chance now... oh god. Geoff. Geoff, forgive me. Tears welled up. I could not stop them. Just as I could not stand. Just as I could not move...

I was... was rather useless... wasn't I?

Familiar yet no longer familiar arms threw themselves around me. Cradled me close to a softly perfumed chest, locks of hair I'd know anywhere, shielding me from the world.

"Mama..." my little girl said. Her voice the very picture of heartbreak. "I'm sorry. I... I was too late."

One of her suitors untied me. The knight, probably, from the calluses I felt. But all I could think about was, wrapping my daught in my arms. Together for the first time in years. And it had to be like THIS? Oh gods. Why was fate so cruel?

My little girl had grown so big.

This was a grown woman in my arms.

I just... I just wanted this terrible night to END. And as my daughters power slid over me? It did.

I woke up in a guest room. He dear friend Agatha had INSISTED. Geoffrey had worked for her family. It... it brought relief. To mourn with people who had known him. He had apparently spoken of me. Quite often. The sap.

It... it wasn't fair.

But when was life ever fair?

My daughter visisted. Now that i was finally closer. Her suitors dropped by, to pay their respects I think. Possibly win me over, as mother of their lady love. They were awkward little things. It was adorable. I was patient. Listened. Prodded them when then froze up, uncertain of what to talk about. Got them rambling about their hobbies. Really, it was no great difference then most shy kids.

The visited more. Stayed longer.

Brought gifts.

The gifts were expensive, elaborate, and wildly impractical. I was forced to gently explain why I, a peasant woman, could NOT accept their gift of fist size gemstones. It started with "I will be robbed" and ended with "they WILL be certain I stole these, no matter WHAT documentation you give me. I will die". They were very confused and alarmed. Much like puppies learning that suddenly treats were somehow illegal.

Agatha herself? Was a delight.

A very "mob" looking young lady with a sharp wit and an old man's sense of humor. Her personal maid was Geoffrey's niece. That neither held against me what had happened? Spoke of both of their maturity and grace. They WOULD however, never forgive the house that ordered the attack. I much agreed.

I considered, going back to the village, but...

The memories were too raw there.

I decided to follow my daughter, settle near wherever she decided to go. She seemed thrilled at the idea. Somehow, word spread. On the next visit, the future "head of the mage's tower" and man of entirely too many titles, Valtaan mentions an estate he owns near the Tower. How it lies empty. Would be the PERFECT place for a mother-in-law, you know... if he had one. Lovely gardens!

Oh, really?

Then, the Knight mentions how HE'S going to be stationed up North. In a Great Big Fortress with SO many rooms. Just... just SO MANY. Entirely too many, really. Honestly, he should bring more people! Like a wife! And... and a Mother-in-law! Really fill up the place, you know?

Mmmmhmmm.

The Prime Minister to be? Oh HE talks of TRAVEL. Ever considered traveling? The Embassies are LOVELY. So much to DO around them. Foreign lands, beautiful locals, silks and lovely little treats.

You don't say....

The Duke is blunt about it, at least.

I have a castle. I have SEVERAL castles. Estates. He is aware you are not motivated by that, but it does leave you with options for where you want to live should your daughter decide to marry him. And he DOES intend to marry my daughter. Second husband if not the first. Motivated, aren't we?

I politely infor both prince's, the SECOND they sit down, before they open their mouth, that I like them. I do. A lot in fact. But it's not going to happen. It'll be a cold day in hell the day I let my daughter marry into the royal family and they both know exactly why. They pause... consider it. Then nod.

They agree.

Wouldn't wish this life upon ANYONE who had a chance at something better.

My daughter graduates, with HONORS. There is much gnashing are rending of clothes from the elitist base. Ha! Get fucked. I STILL have no idea what the "twist" is in the plot or if I was being punked. Also not a single clue which, if any, of her suitors she's chosen. Could be all of um. I could care less so long as everyone consents and is aware of each other.

The graduation party is, naturally, grand. I'm in a dress one of the suitors likely bought for me. Somehow, I actually look like I belong. Instead of dancing and reveling, my munchkins hover. As though afraid to leave me alone at my first Big Girl Party. I laugh, trying to shoo them away. Go, go!

My daughter stubbornly shakes her head, leaning against me, her dress complimenting mine. Though I doubt I could be half as lovely.

"Noooo~ I refuse! I will be staying Right HERE, Mama!" Her voice is playful but... there's something strained. Desperate, that's never really gone away I think. Not since the accident. "What if someone tries to take you AWAY? You're too pretty! You gotta stay with US, mama!"

I laugh out loud, completely missing the interested looks that glance my way. Well to do gentleman, widowers and respected servants alike. Long time bachelor's, who's eyes linger a touch too long on the length of my neck, the curve of shoulder. The way it dips down, past my collarbones towards someplace... interesting.

My crowd of young protectors DO NOT miss the looks.

Bristle like angry cats. Eye venomous and society smiles sharp enough too cut glass. There is a murder to their expression. A command to Look Away.

While you still have EYES.

"No, Mama." My daughter insists when I try to tell her she's wrong. That I am far from desirable. "I'm not letting go. Not EVER. We're FAMILY. And that means? That means you're MINE."

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wonsunism · 1 year

Text

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄

dom!jay, dom!sunghoon, sub¡reader

context: trying a 3some for the first time with your boyfriend (jay) and your best friend (sunghoon)

mentions of: nicknames, oral sex (giving), penetration, unprotected sex, combo of degrading and sweet names, teasing, creampie

"are you sure you want to do this, (y/n)?" asked jay.

you were standing in front of sunghoon's house for a couple of minutes now, wondering whether it was worth it or not. for context, you and your boyfriend have been playing all night a spicy couple game, some sort of truth or dare, and you both ended up being really turned on by one of the challenges: to have sex at a common friend's house. so as strange as it may sound, you considered your best friend, sunghoon, to be the best option, as he lived nearby. you texted him, mentioning how you'd like to have a sleepover, maybe watch some netflix and eat junk food. he was just fine with it, and now you were standing outside, hopeful that everything would go well.

"no doubt" you answered confidently.

holding onto jay's arm, you walked towards the front door, ringing the bell. as the door opened, you were welcomed inside. sunghoon's house always had this kind of vibe, just like a dream mansion, except it was not quite as big. you stepped in, feeling instantly all warmed up, given the weather outside.

"make yourselves at home while i get us some drinks" sunghoon said and left the room, both you and jay looking at each other.

you were doubting it now whether it was the heat inside the house or your boyfriend that made you feel so hot.

"being here makes me feel even more hungry for you, babe" jay came closer to you, getting rid of the last couple of centimetres left in between, making sure to glue your bodies together so you can feel how hard he was for you. already.

you smirked at his gesture, while your hand travelled all the day down, rubbing your palm against his bulge. jay put your hair behind your ear, leaning in and breathing into your ear and neck "i want you right now and here". you could feel how he was getting harder and harder with each second. you could feel yourself getting just as wetter and wetter, crossing your legs together.

"that's not how you play the game, princess" jay put his leg between yours, raising his knee and teasing you through your jeans. as he was close to your neck, he devoured your skin, marking his territory all over the surface. hardly, you managed not to whine, yet your lips did not make it unbitten.

"should we bring this to the bathroom?" you whispered to him. "and what if i want to fuck you in the living room?" the simple thought of being caught doing anything obscene was just turning you on even more, so at the sound of that you just sighed and grabbed his dick through the trousers he was wearing "what if i will suck your dick right here?" you asked, smirking and offering him a small and sensual kiss "would these lips feel good on your cock?"

jay grabbed your wrist and pulled you after him into the dressing room. he pushed you down on your knees, lowering his trousers and boxers, exposing his hard length. "suck, slut"

you did not have second thoughts about that, rather you wrapped your hand around it and started licking the tip while not taking your gaze away from him. "i said suck" your boyfriend grabbed your hair and pushed you down his cock, forcing you to take all of him into your mouth. you couldn't help but keep gagging at his gesture. even now, you still couldn't get used to his thickness. he was just too big for your mouth. "mhmm, that feels good. keep going, princess"

"guys, where are you?" you heard sunghoon's voice coming from the living room.

your initial instinct was to stop, yet jay pushed your head down again "don't you dare, whore" he whispered, throwing his head back. it felt so good he could barely say anything else. jay would just try really hard not to groan. he hated not being able to be loud.

"just leaving our shoes in the dressing room!" he answered sunghoon's question. he kept fucking your mouth, still making you gag. "how does it feel to suck your master's cock, hm, princess? imagine that going inside you. it barely fits in your mouth, let alone your tight holes"

you could feel your nips hardening at the sound of that. you wanted him so badly, no, you needed him more than anything. using just your mouth to please your boyfriend, your pulled up your t-shirt, just above your chest, and started to feel your tits through the material of the bra. jay looked down, just to see how you were massaging your boobs, which made him bite his lower lip, and thrust harder into your mouth "your tits look so perfect. do you want my dick between them, slut? do you want me to fuck your tits?"

the way this man was making you feel was not comprehensible. his voice, his body, his scent, his flavour. there's nothing you could complain about, in fact, you could only praise him. and his cock in your mouth,.. if you actually started ranting about it, you would never stop.

"guys, do you want sweet or salty popcor-," you heard a familiar voice.

you turned your head slightly, just to see your best friend standing in front of the dressing room. fuck.

"oh my god, i'm sorry, i should have knocked"

you couldn't help but notice how his trousers suddenly just tightened. you looked up and down him, analysing his whole body, making you wonder. was he turned on by this? getting back on your feet, you looked at jay, which was already watching you, and it seemed like he did notice that too.

"i should leave" added sunghoon, turning around but not before jay replied to him "what about you stay?"

taken aback by his response, sunghoon's pupils dilated, and he stood for a couple of seconds speechless. the thought of having a threesome with your boyfriend and best friend kind of made you feel some things, things that you shouldn't feel. sunghoon stepped in, anxiously, and closed the door behind him. jay came closer to him, whispering into his ear "i know you want to fuck my princess' face, asshole. don't act like you don't fantasise about that"

"should we go upstairs? the bedroom would be much more convenient for this" said sunghoon, confidently this time, while staring at your exposed chest. you never pulled your shirt back down, yet that was just fortunate for him. "fuck" he groaned, and led all 3 of you to his room.

jay pushed you on the bed, taking off your jeans, while sunghoon pushed your head down on the sheets and took off his belt. were you dreaming right now? it is not that often that you get fucked by the two most important people in your life.

sunghoon felt himself for a second, biting his lips, just imagining how his cock would look down your throat. but he didn't have to imagine anymore, cause he unzipped his trousers in a couple of seconds and revealed his thickness. god, he looked so fucking good. laying down on the bed, with the two boys on each side of your body, you felt how jay's fingers started to feel your wet pussy through the material of your lingerie. his thick and slender fingers that you just desired to fuck your holes.

sunghoon wrapped one of his hands around your neck while you started to have a taste of his flavour. mhm, his cock was just so delicious. you just wanted to devour all of it. sunghoon pushed himself deeper, you could feel it going all the way in, making you gag repeatedly. little did he care, cause he continued to fuck your face, letting quiet moans leave his mouth.

in the meantime, your panties were now dripping wet. jay's fingers were teasing you in a circle motion, going harder each time. your clit was so spoiled right now. you forced yourself not to close your legs, it just felt too good. before you knew, jay put your panties to the side, and buried his cock, that you've been getting all ready, inside your pussy.

"fuck, you are so tight, whore" said jay, going hard inside you, regardless of your ability to take all of him or not.

it hurt so much, but it felt so good. your boyfriend leaned closed to your chest, pulling your tits over the bra, grabbing your nipples and twisting them. you could have reached climax any second now. getting fucked by two sexy men at the same time could be ticked on your bucket list now. jay's movements were precise and hiting your walls. he started speeding up too, making your tits bounce while your boyfriend was still playing with your nips.

sunghoon chocked you harder "do you want my cum on your face, beautiful?" at the sound of that, you could feel jay's dick twitch inside you. the fact that your boyfriend was turned on so much by this made it even better. you nodded, and sunghoon let go of your throat, starting to touch himself for a moment. "should we do it at the same time" he asked jay, trying to keep himself waiting before releasing.

"mhm" jay groaned "when you are ready"

sunghoon hit your face a couple of times with his dick, smirking at the view under his cock. the two boys nodded and in just a second you could feel how jay's semen was filling all of your hole, while sunghoon's cum was all over your face. you couldn't help but let a moan out, as jay hit your g-spot just as he was cumming.

"fuck" said sunghoon, breathing heavily. it was the same for jay, that let go of our tits and held onto your hips, lowering his face down and kissing your beautiful stomach.

"you were definitely treated just like a princess today" he whispered to you, not wanting to leave your pussy. his cock felt too warm and cozy in there.

everyone was just out of breathe, yet it was definitely worth it. you were now wondering if there will be another time you could do that. that was the best fucking experience you've ever gone through.

"i so love you"

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #kpop smut #jungwon smut #sunoo smut #heeseung smut #jay enhypen smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts #jay hard hours #jay hard thoughts

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unnaturalequilibrium · 2 months

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undefined number of favourite #mafin scenes [the apron]

I love Fina, don’t get me wrong, I adore the short-fused velvet cupcake, but honey, that is not how you put an apron on another woman. Not even Vishnu is that handsy. I don’t mind though, I really don’t. In all honesty my stomach dropped at this scene, free falling into “do I make you randy, baby” territory. I think it’s because their relationship has been such a perfect tease up until this moment that even the lightest of touches was enough to send me. It’s kind of like when the woman you’ve been flirting with for a couple of weeks suddenly look at you from across the room and gives you that small smile and yeah, your heart does a flop and performs a moonsault on your libido, pinning that fucker to the ground. Also the stomach is such a…vulnerable place, there’s no reason to touch another human being's stomach in everyday life. An arm, a shoulder, a hand - it happens casually, but a stomach - no. Or maybe I’m just part dog, stomachs are off-limits and should only be presented to pack leaders and those you can’t best in a street fight.

Besides being a horny asshole I really liked the scene because of what it represented. We’d been shown how alone Marta actually is, surrounded by people but chronically lonely up in her ivory tower. No one who actually sees her, no one who actually truly listens to her as a person. Her family is a business, there is only the most Frankensteinian of affection shared between them and most of it is so tied up with power and money that it barely holds any traces of emotion. It’s her birthday, but it’s not her day. Until Fina shows up and cuts through propriety with her handsy hands and a personalised gift that landed like a well-executed Senton bomb that is. I can just imagine Fina embroidering away throughout the night, with a ferocity that could probably make small children pee their pants and dogs whine and cower in a corner. You know that scene in Xena with the “Kill ‘em all!” - that but with a needle and a thread and a floral pattern. To be fair, that’s pretty much how I envision Fina all of the time, a nice blouse and a citrus-y scent, but the sensibility of an ancient warlord. Where was I…?

Yes, Fina not only personalises a gift, but she does so in a way that is a nice contrast to the persona Marta is with her family and those around her. Sure the kitchen is traditionally a woman’s domain, but Marta is someone who’s built reinforced concrete walls around the space she’s carved for herself in what is otherwise a man’s world. So a sally into the kitchen becomes almost a kind of vulnerability in that context, a reminder that she is in fact a woman - does she then deserve a place at the men’s table? Especially since it still smells of the dreams of a bakery she had before she got caught up in the family business. But Fina is allowed to see that part of her and given an opportunity to encourage those forays into complexity and wall hopping. Marta finally has someone she can share her nuances with without having to fear they use it as cannon fodder against her.

Sprinkled throughout the entire scene we also get to enjoy their shit eating grins as they steal glances at each other with only the audience to catch the full extent of their smitten kitten impressions. To top it off and effectively take the horniest edge off, they end the scene with a shared laughter that comes in like a clothesline to the unresolved sexual tension, mellowing it at least a little bit. Soft, horny and heartwarming - all at once - F-5 and game over for the last strands of my sanity holding out against falling for yet another telenovela couple.

Bottom line; I should probably stop watching so much wrestling and these two are a perfect fusion of sweet and horny and it’s a very tasty treat with lots of hands.

#sueños de libertad #mafin #marta x fina

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sodaskateboard · 8 months

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Ganyu NSFW Headcanons

AN: Sigh, thinking about my goat wife,, my precious princess, Gender Neutral Reader/ No Autonomy Given for Reader

Cannot dom to save her life

She will cry if you ask her to because she doesn't want to upset you but still just,, can't do it. Poor girl

Sex is very intimate and private for her, so she can't do hook ups or be with someone she doesn't love

She's also had very few, if any, sexual partners and wasn't very interested in sex before you so she's pretty inexperienced

You get to teach her the joy of "stress relief"

She needs it now regularly or else the stress just builds up again. Please. She physically needs it. Please, please, please

She needs constant reassurance and praise

It has to be romantic and sweet and soft

That said, you can tease her a little, but it has to be nice. Don't insult her even as a joke

"Is my sweet girl needy?" you ask her, already knowing the answer from how she sinks her body into your lap, trying to grind on you, without making it obvious. And maybe it wouldn't be if her breath wasn't so uneven, peaking around her small moans that she couldn't stop from escaping. She lets out a louder moan in response and leans back into your chest. It's clear what she wants, but she's too cute to pass up on. "Sorry sweetheart, you're gonna have to use your words." She whines loudly in protest and hides her red face in your neck, too embarrassed to say anything, only getting out her moan and pants and bucking into your hand.

Gets overstimulated easily

Loves having when you play with her tits. Massage them, kiss them, pinch her nipples, and suck on them

She's cummed just from having them sucked on while riding your thigh

Finds it embarrassing to finish and it takes a lot of energy from her

So it's even more overwhelming

Loves holding your hand while she finishes

She can't cum unless she feels safe

So hold her, pet her hair, whisper to her that's she's the most beautiful creature to ever exist, that you love with your whole soul, that you're going to make her your wife one day, how happy seeing her makes you

Her favourite dirty talk is the kind that if you just read it with no context, it could sound like wedding vows

Once you read her a love poem while fingering her in your lap and now she can't hear the poet's name without being mortified,, and a little excited

Her favourite place is in your or hers teapot. That way she knows no one can see you two

Imagine her surprise when you recreated her office in it. And several streets from Liyue outside,,,

She feels so dirty for imagining getting fucked somewhere like her work place or public, but she likes it so much

The first time you had sex outside in the teapot, she learned she was so sensitive even the wind's gentlest blow on her bare skin made her hot

She tastes very close to water, maybe with a bit of a herbal taste since she eats and drinks very healthy

She needs post sex cuddles more than she needs air. She needs a lot of emotional support during and after, so she knows you still like her after and are staying with her

"You work so hard Ganyu, I think you need at least one more. Just to be sure we got all the stress out of you." The half adeptus has her legs over your shoulder, the waves of her last orgasm still rippling through her body, making her head go back and her hips buck into nothing while her back tenses and all of her shakes. You place a hand her outer hip, gently patting her up and down until she can answer. You hum and watch her writhe.

She may be the divine being, knowing the Archon and adepti of Liyue for centuries and being raised them, but with the sight of her, you know you're the one truly blessed. To have Ganyu in your arms, to love and be her lover, there is not a mortal or immortal luckier than you. With her, you would stand in front of not only the adepti, or all of the Liyue, but all of Teyvat and its' archons and beyond. Even among Celestia, there is none more blessed than you, you're sure of it.

Your lovely girlfriend whines and squirms still. Maybe it was a little mean to make her finish four times. Or maybe what made it mean was that you planned to go for five tonight without telling her your goal. "You ready to go again pretty girl?" She whines loudly, either in protest or agreement. You softly giggle, "what does that mean?". She looks away from you, grabbing a pillow and putting it over her face. Then she starts to hump the air, wanting you to take care of her again. You were sure from the cry she let out when you began licking her heat again that making her cum five times was the meanest thing. Only maybe your cute little workaholic needed someone to be mean to her to get her to relax.

#ganyu x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #ganyu x reader smut #genshin imagines #genshin smut #ganyu imagine

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arcadianambivalence · 4 months

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IWTV S2E2 and History

One thing I really appreciate about this show is how it interacts with its historical setting. I worried that when Louis and Claudia left New Orleans last season, the show would start to shirk the historical details, but the latest episode has given me enough historical tidbits to chew on (pun intended).

Hidden behind the humor of lines like "Paris is shit" and the thrill of meeting other vampires, there's a sense of foreboding lingering beside the recent traumas.

As with the first episode of season 2, Louis and Claudia are surrounded by reminders of war, even if they do not have the context (or empathy) for the survivors they encounter. Claudia complains that she has to pick twice as many pockets to get by, but the two are still able to afford an apartment. Meanwhile, food staples and clothing are still rationed, but people and pigeons are easy to come by.

"Paris was Nazi scar tissue at the time..."

Louis explains, but the scars historically ran deeper than a tourist (and Louis is The stereotypical tourist in this episode) could understand. Blackouts, food shortages, rations, soldiers, and refugees linger at the corners of the episode.

Even Madeline is introduced to us by a man warning Claudia that she was a collaborator or Nazi sympathizer (he does a subtle salute and points to the shop window), which will certainly influence how the next episodes take her through her narrative beats.

The plays performed by the Théâtre des Vampires cross 1920s to 1940s expressionism with absurdity and horror. Even after all this time, Louis is unenthused about the theatrical performances.

"The plays were weird. They always ended in death or some kind of cruel, barely motivated violence."

Armand's reply is dulled by the onstage spectacle:

"Life is cruel. Life is violent. [...] It was all a seduction to lure the cattle into a willing belief of disbelief."

It's a line that is all the more concerning if you know where the story is going...

Annika, the doomed woman onstage, is from Belgium, yet another country recovering from occupation and war. When she desperately tries to convince the audience to flee (not just for them to help her, but to save themselves), she speaks Dutch, so neither the French nor English-speaking audience members understand her.

Still in character, Santiago pretends to offer her a choice. She could live if she gives up someone to die in her place, if she, as the phrase goes, "turns someone in." First, he offers to take her husband, and she refuses. Then he offers to take her son, and again she refuses. Finally, he points to a man in the audience. She nods vigorously, but it's a cruel joke.

Santiago has already made up his mind about her. He addresses the man, warning him against trusting his neighbors:

"They'll give you up in a wink."

As if someone who spent the last five years in occupied France would need reminding.

The warning is for us, the viewers.

Later, the troupe takes Louis and Claudia to a mansion, ostensibly to eat people who, apparently, hoarded resources from the black market. Another show for Claudia and Louis, tourists who still think of themselves as the "good" vampires. Because why would a troupe of vampires concern themselves with that? They don't need anything from the black market. They don't eat anything from the black market. Where was this sense of justice in recent years?

As with Annika, it's yet another excuse to enact cruel and public violence against people they consider less than them.

So when Santiago's introductory prologue includes lines like:

"Being vampires, and by nature superior to you mortals, we can [...] disrupt your tiny ship called human decency."

"Our jobs, which is at the heart of it, to laugh alongside your misery while you cry and scream for more."

"Everything you're about to see is real. Remember that when you leave here tonight. You are all complicit [...] I love you for it."

You know things are not going to get better for Louis and Claudia.

#interview with the vampire #iwtv s2 #iwtv #my meta

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cleminthewriter · 3 months

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Mom says it's my turn to give the demon drugs

So context:

This was both inspired by this post and by the conversations I had with friends on discord. We joked up the concept of Clyde eating Alex's weed gummies cause i remember hearing somewhere it's fav candy was gummy bears. Ultimately, this lead to this 1.7k word fic being created. I hope everyone is in for a ride. It should be noted I've never been on weed, so there's probably some inaccuracies. Just pretend that cause of veldigun.

(nevermind the veldigun in canon can't get drunk or high but ssshh)

If there are issues involving boundaries, this will be deleted.

Tw for Drugs (weed)

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

By now, Alex knew what to expect the second they got home from work: Clyde getting up to some kind of mischief or somewhere sleeping (Depended on whether they had the night or day shift), all while a bunch of random hallucinations danced around like sugar plums on christmas. Usually the hallucinations were depicting the shadows of kids, that weird ghost they disguised themself as, or a being that looked like it and a larger being Alex had theories on being that “partner” it’s looking for.

What Alex did not expect was a thousand, pretty much shapeless, hallucinations in bright, neon colors, which were spinning around the living room as if it were a planetarium. In the middle of it all, laying upside down in a pile of blankets, cushions, pillows and other such soft looking material that Alex could tell came from around the house, was Clyde, who had a thousand yard stare as it’s many different voices muttered things Alex couldn’t even vaguely understand.

Ok, so something was up with Clyde. Now the question was what.

Alex’s first thought was it somehow a sort of seasonal behavior thing, like the hibernation it went through a few months ago. Alex was praying that this time they wouldn’t accidentally get dragged into it, but then they looked at the walls the hallucinations were projected to. Their shape suddenly reminded Alex of something:

Gummy Bears.

Alex recalled Clyde talking about it’s love of Gummy Bears some time ago, but why was it the hallucination? Alex figured, perhaps since Clyde was in this zoned out space, asking might work. “Clyde?” Alex called to get it’s attention. To Alex's shock, instead of being ignored, Clyde whipped it’s head towards them so fast it could have given Alex themself whiplash. The two stared at each other for a few seconds (Clyde’s was intense and locked directly on to Alex, while Alex’s was filled with vague fear and too afraid to look anywhere else).

“ALEX!” Clyde yelled as they quick moved into a position Alex immediately recognized. They were just barely able to dodge before Clyde moved to ponce. “They’re gonna eat me. This is the moment. I’m dead.” Alex's panicked mind told them. They braced for a second, preparing for an attack.

But the only attack they got was Clyde word vomiting.

“Ohmysixareyouokareyouhurtwhydidyougetoutofthewayineededtoprotectyoulankmannandthecaretakerscouldcomeforyouandidontwantthemtotakeyouimeanimagineifyougothurtidontwantyoutogethurtialreadylostmypartnerandidontwanttoloseyouaswellyoumattersomuchandineedtokeepyousafecomeoneletsgetyouinthenest-”

Alex slowly stopped bracing and stared at the veldigun, who was now standing over them with a large, thick blanket (the one they got from the white elephant game last christmas. They remember it so well since Roy stole the panini press grill they got first). “Clyde what-” is what Alex started to say before said large, thick blanket was thrown on top of them. They could feel Clyde grab them and pick them up in said blanket, before dumping them onto the pile.

“There, with this blacket I found now we don’t need to worry about touch. I can keep you safe right here, only I go out.” Clyde stated like it didn’t sound like they were keeping them hostage. “Great plan I know!”

Alex was able to get their head out of the pile right before Clyde laid directly on top of them. Alex hadn’t felt this much weight on them since college when they visited a friend and their great dane sat directly on top of them. Only this time it felt like there were now three. Apparently, while Alex had been thinking of this, Clyde had begun talking again.

“-I mean, today you were a whole half hour late getting home. A whole half hour. This must mean you are hiding something, like you're getting questioned. Of course, you’d be the type to panic and accidentally reveal something. So someone’s gotta protect you.” Ah, so being in a weird state doesn’t change the fact they like to sass ok. Alex stopped paying complete attention when they looked at the creature’s eyes. … When did they get so red?

“-and I do care about you, and I never want to ever see you hurt. I miss you everyday you leave. Today I just sat on your bed for an hour missing you. Sitting on your bed wasn’t too bad though. I found these gummy bears in the bedside table drawer and-”

“WAIT GUMMY BEARS?!?!” Alex interrupted Veldigun's rant, for a horrible, terrible, completely awful realization came to Alex’s head. Clyde’s confusion only gave more fear to Alex.

“What about the gummies? Sure they tasted a little different from the usually gummy bears, and now i feel my ooze shifting around my entire body but I just assumed-”

“How many did you eat?” Alex firmly questioned.

“...I don’t know… Thirty-teen? I saved some cause I felt bad about eating all of them from you. That's a funny thing you do to me Alex, I feel bad doing “Mean” st-”

“Oh fuck…” Alex whispered. That horrible, terrible, completely awful realization has now grown thirty-teen times worse. Clyde still looked at them confused, before getting distracted and looking at one of the hallucinations.

“Haha, that one looks like a bear in a banan-” “Clyde those were my edibles.” Alex uttered in fear. “Your High. On Drugs. Weed.”

Clyde stopped and stared directly at Alex’s face. It seemed to contemplate things, or maybe it was pulling memories from some other they ate, looking for anyone who it ate that has eaten edibles. (Alex made a worthless attempt to escape the pile of blankets and other soft things while Clyde was in this state of thinking.)

“Why didn’t you label it?” Clyde questioned with an attitude.

“I don't know, it‘s in a personal location people shouldn’t be going though. Why were you looking in my bedside table?” Alex sassed back.

“It was open!”

“Sure, sure. Can I leave-”

“NO!” it yelled as it wrapped its arms around the soft items pile it trapped Alex in. When Alex shut up, it looked them directly in the eyes.

“The caretakers, they probably know I’m here. They’re gonna tell Lankmann and then he’ll take you from me. You’ll be hurt and mistreated, and I’ll be alone and by myself again. I don’t want to lose you. I really don’t. But now if I keep you right here in this amazing nest I made, you’ll be nice and safe and warm and-” Clyde continued it’s rant on the importance of keeping Alex safe and protected from the terrible foundation. Alex listened intently to the veldigun; if they could’ve, they would have placed a hand on it’s cheek for comfort.

The rant came to a pause as Clyde began pointing out the different hallucinations, and Alex decided to finally say something.

“Clyde, I had no idea you cared that much. I find it awfully sweet, however, you know I can’t stay in this… nest.” Alex softly explained. Clyde just gave it puppy dog eyes (how and when could it do that) as it started to cuddle.

Most likely, all this was because of weed, and not genuine. So while Alex was touched by it saying it cared about them, Alex should probably find some kind of distraction to get Clyde away from these thoughts until the high ended.

Luckily, they had a TV with a VHS player and some tapes in a cabinet on the other side of the room. Now to get Clyde off.

“Hey Clyde, since you don’t want me to leave the pile, what if you got some Non-Editable snacks for us to eat? I’m sure we’re both incredibly hungry.” Alex offered. Lucky for them, Clyde perked up at the mention of snacks.

“I can do that! Can’t protect you if you're hungry!” it exclaimed as it got up and trotted to the kitchen, brightly colored hallucinations leaving with it.

Now was Alex’s turn to move.

They quickly (and quietly) escaped from the nest and snuck over to their VHS cabinet. Inside were a bunch of different video tapes, all Alex needed were some good videos with pretty colors and silly voices, preferably horror for Clyde. Alex was perfectly aware they had very little time to choose, and they had to act fast.

They began going through a rapid pace, trying to find the perfect one for Clyde to watch. From the kitchen, Alex could hear it go though cabinets for food. They also heard the dishwasher going off. Alex was now going to ignore the sounds coming from the kitchen. This was for the sake of sanity.

Alex, who noticed some of the bright colors returning to the room, eventually told themself “screw it” and grabbed a random tape. They removed it from the slip case, and inserted it right into the player as soon as they started to hear footsteps approach the living room. Right as Alex hit the play button, Clyde entered the room.

“What the hell Alex, get back in the-”

“La la la la, La la la la, Elmo’s world!”

…And Alex came to the horrible realization they inserted one of the joke gift they ended up with from the white elephant game two years ago: six vhs tapes of Sesame Street (remembered cause Lauren admitted it was just to get rid of old tapes her kids didn’t watch anymore). Alex thought they grabbed at least something scary, like Critters, cause they knew that was something Clyde would enjoy. But goddamn Sesame Street? This was a wild card. Clyde could either be unimpressed or decided “fuck it, they die”.

But surprisingly, neither happened. In fact, Clyde seemed to get… entranced by the show. Alex moved away from the TV so Clyde could get a better look. Said veldigun sat on the nest, putting down the “snacks” (Alex was pretty sure it brought back some dish soap, a sponge and what looked like all 5 bags of sandwich bread) it got, and just watched the show. Alex observed for a minute before also joining in on watching Sesame Street.

The rest of the night was spent in this way, just watching those tapes of Sesame Street. They’d occasionally joke and chat, but it was mostly quiet from that moment on. It was quite nice. Soon, both would pass out from sheer exhaustion, Clyde would finally be sober from weed and deny remembering anything from that night (Alex couldn’t tell if it was lying or had genuinely greened out from gummies), and Alex won’t make mention of this night to it.

But right now, they were just a human and a veldigun, one high as a kite, and just chilling watching some puppets sing.

#doai sitcom au #doai #doai fanfic #crackfic #well more like #weedfic #tw drugs #alex williams doai #doai clyde #clemin writes

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nexility-sims · 5 months

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𝐍𝐎. 𝟕 ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜ | AUGUST 1991

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

Trish Fitzpatrick wore many hats, but her favorite was “freelance journalist.” Her area of expertise grew directly out of myriad side gigs: what she called portrait pieces of interesting people. Outlets clamored for them—or, they had since she’d buttered up famous, neurotic opera singer-turned-starlet Prudence Boone into revealing she had a glass eye, a secret runaway daughter, and a hair-eating habit. Of course, Prudence was basically a stranger. They had once had a fifteen minute conversation on the deck of a yacht, bonding over the fact that neither actually knew to whom the vessel belonged. Prudence thought Trish’s outlandish suggestions were funny enough to remember her when she called to pitch the piece. It had gone the same way with Renzo. Of course, they had met while fighting over a scarf in a vintage clothing store. Trish considered letting him win to be a debt, one for which she would demand recompense at the ideal time. Opportunities passed, and then August 1991 proved to be the time.

❧ i got the irresistible urge to do renzo backstory, which was meant to be an outtake, but then i was like, "uh, no, this totally works as story proper if i put leonor in it," so here we are ! context and such. given the amount of work, this might be my magnum opus until further notice ... it was also just fun to do :^) checked off the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll boxes ?? where's my prize. in conclusion, i love my white boy of the week or whatever

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

I grew up in a tiny town—Petunia. Petunia? You say it differently. It’s the country coming out, I guess. Not “pee-tyoon-ee-ah,” it’s “puh-toon-yuh.” Petunia. That’s it. So, how was it? Fond memories? In retrospect, maybe. I wanted to get the hell out of there from day one. What I remember is being very unhappy—dispositionally sullen, not just a pouty kid, but fully down and out. Born that way, probably. And your parents? My parents … Life had the upper hand, man. They were good at losing. I didn’t want that life.

My dad professed to be a traveling salesman—What, he wasn’t? I mean, he didn’t know jack shit about vacuums or whatever the fuck. I don’t know. But, he wasn’t around a lot, it sounds like? Gone for weeks at a time. Just me and my mom. How was she? Not really there either. When I got home from school, she’d pop her pills and be gone until morning. She wasn’t avoiding me; she was avoiding life. She did what she had to do in the mornings—you know, I had what I needed, the bare essentials—but she was checked out. You had a lot of unsupervised time, then. Oh, did I. Too much. I mean, I had books to read, and I got into music early—From her? No. My dad’d blow into town and bring pity gifts. Not kid-appropriate shit, now that I think about it. Heavy, gritty stories. A guitar I was too little to use. Flip lighter. But, you know, I was a kid. I wanted to run and play with everyone else, too. Of course.

Here’s the thing: it was hard to be a scrawny kid named Lorencio in Petunia. Shit, I can imagine. What was that like? … Hard, like I said. Well—Details? I got the shit kicked out of me. Regularly. What do they call it—um—“school of hard knocks”? Yeah. I remember, one time, I limped home on a Saturday. Mom was out of it, but she leapt up when she saw all the blood. Cleaned me up. It’s like I’m there now—in that bathroom with the dirty tile, her burning me with peroxide … She didn’t really talk, you know, not in a serious way? But she did then? She said, in Uspanian, “‘Don’t roll over for anyone.’” Interesting. So, that’s the lesson? Part of it. I realized that summer it didn’t matter if you were scrawny, if you talked funny, if you were poor. What mattered was not being a pussy. [Laughs] Oh, yeah? If you want credibility, if you want respect, sometimes you gotta be able to take a beating. Don’t roll over. That’s right.

I think it also helped when the growth spurt hit. You must’ve still been scrawny. [Laughs] String bean. So it goes. Adolescence . Now, you grew up fast, is what I’ve heard. You could say that. My life changed when Marty got out of lock-up—Sorry, what?—for “teen offenders”; he set his grandparents’ car on fire—oh, I see, regular kid shit—Uh huh. We hit it off. He introduced me to other guys, including Jesse. They’d huff gas together. Oh my God. Not whippits? Sure, but less convenient. That’s—No good, yeah. Fun though. Have you—? I’ve tried everything, Patricia.

Jesus! So, Marty and Jesse…? We got on like a house fire. [Groans] They were into petty crime for the thrill of it—Now, Renzo, is arson petty? He did it one fucking time. Everyone overreacted. They got into trouble for fun, and for you it was—? Money. Not a lot. I was too dumb to consider the risks. But, you did other things for money, too? Don’t say it like that. I wasn’t hooking. [Snorts] I worked a lot. I was cutting school to work, getting paid under the table, all of that. Maybe—hear me out—some of it was thrilling for you, too? I won’t tell anyone. [Chuckles] What can I say? Credibility.

I feel like I’m mischaracterizing … I love Marty and Jesse, to this day. Jesse’s daughter is your godchild, right? Yeah. Marty went back to Petunia in … ‘88? Jesse and I had better luck, or maybe we were just more desperate. Either way, my point is that delinquents get a bad rap—With good reason! Sure, okay. Both of them were deeper and more complicated than that. You’re not an outlier. No. We’re a dime a dozen. No one gives them the chances you got. Uh huh. So, we bonded over that—feeling down and out, like I said, but also the fact that we loved music. Marty’s family had money, so they’d bought him a nice bass guitar. But, Jesse’s mind … He’s so fucking creative. He wasn’t a reader, but I could tell him about something I’d been chewing on, and he’d have a song inspired by it within the hour. He has an incredible voice, too. He does.

I guess it’s not surprising that you guys did what you did. There was nothing for us at home, you know? Packing up and heading out west didn’t feel like a risk. And your mom understood that? Better than anyone. I know people judged her—shit, I judge her, too—but I always knew she was trying. That’s sweet. Is it? I mean, I think so … She met my dad at a bus stop three weeks after she arrived in the country and made the mistake of getting off at his stop. That’s it. That was her crime. Well, I’m sure she’s doing better now, huh? She lives in a nicer house in a nicer city, but that doesn’t cure depression, now does it? I suppose not. There was this woman whose lawn I’d cut all the time … A real bitch, but she was extra nice because she felt bad for me. Hated my mother. I think she was just jealous because my dad was her high school sweetheart. Isn’t that just how it goes? Damn foreigner stealing a real catch from her. [Scoffs] Sticky fingers when she invited me inside for lemonade—cigs and quarters from her purse, Valium from the cabinet, that kind of thing. [Laughs] Casual. It was pretty brazen, honestly. Fucking dumb kid.

Alright, so, you come out here with Marty and Jesse to make music, and now you’re a serious actor with a name and a big career ahead of you. How’d that happen? It was completely accidental. While we waited for a record deal, I did odd jobs, like auto work—you know, in a body shop. It was decent. Had you worked on cars before that? So, I got familiar, uh … [Chuckles] We’ve established I was a rascal. We could get under the hood of a parked car and make a few dollars off parts. I can get you in so much trouble, Renzo! [Laughs]

Don’t tell anyone, come on! I was a kid. Have a heart. I guess it paid off. But, alright, body work? What’s the connection? It’s kind of convoluted. When business was slow, the guy I worked for loaned his employees out to another mechanic. This guy, long story short, brought me along to assist him on a movie set. I guess he was a known quantity? Everyone knows the right guy! That’s everyone’s explanation for where they end up. Me, too. Uh huh. I don’t know why they let me do it, but—Somehow it worked out. Yeah, it did. Right place, right time.

You’re in the spot. How did you get into it, though? This is embarrassing as hell but, fuck it, I’ll be honest. Please. Don’t stop now. [Chuckles] I got a shot because I’d been chatting up this girl who, as it turns out, was the director’s kid—or, in fact, she approached me. I had no idea who she was or why she was there. Of course she did! That’s not surprising, is it? I think I was the most disinterested person there. I don’t know. Anyway, we talked a couple times, then—out of the blue—someone asked me if I wanted to hop into a scene, say a line, ten seconds flat. She did that for you? I don’t know what she did. No one mentioned her. Maybe she thought you looked like a movie star. [Snorts] Fuck. I hope not. Did you want to do it? I wanted to make music. I wanted to finish reading my book. I wanted … I mean, I said yeah. Can’t decline that. Makes a good story, right? What happened with her—? Oh, hell. Sorry! Moving on, for now. [Groans]

I got a call several weeks later about an audition. How did that feel? Bizarre. We’d done a demo for a producer once, but this was different. Were you excited? I was terrified. But, I went. Didn’t get that part, although everyone was perfectly nice to me. How disappointing. You always remember your first … But, hey, you have to look at it this way: I didn’t want to be an actor. I thought it was cool, but it felt like … ? Go ahead, give me a good metaphor. Like when you’ve been craving your favorite food, but then someone offers you a helping of something different, new, appetizing. How’s that? Passable. C-plus. [Laughs] Fuck you, Pat.

Okay, so the road didn’t end there. No, it didn’t. I got another call, and that one went well. This was for … Sugar Sweet? That’s the one. Cornball, but I love that movie. Never seen it. What! How is that possible? You were in it. You went to the premiere screening. There are pictures. Saw my first scene, excused myself to go piss, didn’t come back until the applause had started. Wow. Everyone has opinions about that movie these days—very contentious, whether or not Alicia was in the wrong when she left me and stole my lifelong dream. What do you think? Me, Renzo? Good for her. I thought it was kind of bitchy. It’s peculiar how many women say that. I wonder why … ! Billy’s so dreamy. Please, ask me about something else, Pat. So, this romantic comedy is your launching pad. It leads to the television show. The television show blows up immediately. Walk me through what that felt like?

Also terrifying. I really cannot emphasize enough that I didn’t want attention. I wanted money and time to support my music, and acting seemed like a good way to do that. Just didn’t account for the side effects. Like fame? Uh huh. I was a nobody in Sugar Sweet, and the pay was shit, but it felt like a miraculously good deal at the time. What it did is put me in the running for more serious work. I think, even then, sometimes the casting folks were hesitant to take a risk on someone with no experience whatsoever, even if they had—A spark? Talent? Sure. It was unsettling, the idea that I was some kind of “natural,” and I compensated by working really hard. Well, you’ve established yourself as a hard worker. Sure. I guess they saw that—the improvement, in addition to the fact that I had a resume to speak of by then. Or, eh, they saw that you were pretty. Right, of course, you don’t need talent if you have Teen Mag’s favorite cheekbones. [Snickers] I joined a cast with other people who had very little experience, and we bonded over that. I just didn’t expect to be … What, the center of attention? That, yeah.

You know what’s fucking weird? Huh? Signing your name on a picture of your own face that belongs to someone else. That they’re going to take it home and pin it to their fucking wall or frame it on their bedside table. Someone’s kid treating you like their school crush, blushing and shit while they’re asking for you to do it. That does seem like a strange experience. Over and over again. Teenyboppers, goddamn. You were in the magazines for them. I read a couple interviews. No the fuck I was not. I did not do those. No? What they do is take quotes from actual, consented conversations and stitch them together for their own use. It’s legal. That’s fascinating. Maybe I should try that. Less work. [Laughs] Yeah, alright, flush your “exclusive access” privilege right down the toilet.

But, look, I’m not disparaging the fans wholesale. That’d be unfair. And, ouch, ungrateful? Yeah. The initial couple years were fucking insane, but I was with people I liked, and a lot of the fans we actually met were … Normal? Uh huh. Not a hysterical, handsy, screaming blob. You got grabbed? Groped, Pat. Oh boy. We don’t like grabass, I guess. Well, hold on now, just not like that—You keep sidetracking me. What kind of interviewer are you? I’m having fun with my buddy! Sue me. [Chuckles] You got it, baby. What was I saying? The fans? Yeah. The ones we met one-on-one were cool, usually. They had deep thoughts about the show, you know? Ideas about the characters, the plots—filled in holes in the shitty writing. No offense to Jack and Reuben, I hope! Don’t print that, Pat.

If I’m being honest, having to answer their questions made me think deeply about the role. That’s stayed with me. I don’t like being walked up on in public, but sometimes it’d go fine. The first time someone came up to me in the wild, her mother looked so fucking apologetic that I decided, “Cool it, don’t be a jackass.” She wanted to talk about the book I was buying. Same thing would happen to Frank, Perry, Vicky. How about the show itself? That was a three year commitment.

It was alright. In retrospect, I understand that television isn’t for respectable actors, which made the transition hard. Harder to have been on a show for teenagers. But, you made that switch in Uspana. So, did that play into the calculus at all? I lucked out, in the sense that the show was co-produced, and I got to do the dubbing for the Uspanian version. I wasn’t a total unknown, even if they thought my Uspanian was shitty. Is it? Losing an accent is hard, in my defense.

When my contract ended, I hit the road. You didn’t think about staying on? I thought about it with horror, yes. [Laughs] You’d keep shit-talking the whole production if I let you. Maybe. So, in Uspana? It was like exhaling for the first time in a while. I did nothing for a couple months. All that hard work, being a beloved TV star … Throw me a bone, Pat. But, anyway, I didn’t even see my mom’s family again for a few weeks—You knew them, though? Yeah, we’d met, during the press trips. Beach life by yourself. Luxury.

You know, I needed to reconnect with myself. That’s how I felt. I felt like I had been an imposter, then I felt like I had to be someone I wasn’t, and now … You could go a different way. A fork in the road, for your career. Your life, really. Right, yeah. I went to Canarís like any good tourist. I had more money than I’d ever had in my life. I had no plans. Sounds like a dream. It was.

Crucially, I was out of my mind most of the time. Kite high. So fucking high. I swear I almost drowned twice, at which point it was politely suggested that I stop using the pool. Did you politely agree? Fuck no. [Laughs] Troublemaking aside, I ended up taking phone calls, making plans with people—Industry people? Yeah. There were people I knew already, but meeting the ones I really wanted to work with happened kind of organically—parties, premieres for other films, cafes. At the Morningstar Cafe in Canarís? Right, exactly. Same way I ended up finding The Den. Someone at the cafe had worked with Karolina Teague, and she took me there one evening after we all got tossed out of some poor son of a bitch’s house. Sounds rowdy. Can’t blame him. It was after midnight. And? Well, it was a lunch that’d started at eleven in the morning, so. [Chuckles]

So, I have a question. You’re pretty consistent—in terms of behavior. “Behavior?” [Snorts] Yeah, okay, I understand. What was that like, with cameras on you? The photographers in Uspana definitely aren’t less aggressive. That’s part of it. I don’t know if I’d call it an epiphany, but I left Canarís for Nakawe with the understanding that I was going to just do what I wanted to do. Oh boy. Within reason, fuck. Reason. Sure, yes. You didn’t feel like a dumb kid anymore. I mean, I guess I have more fun with the camera guys here. They can get away with more, ergo, so can we.

I distinctly recall you got arrested for—I barely touched that guy or his fucking camera. Did him a favor, if I did. Dogshit quality device. [Chuckles] Not sure he saw it that way, but the charges were dropped. I mean, don’t get me wrong, shouldn’t have reacted that way. I kept thinking about my mom seeing those pictures … The one time I got picked up, she backhanded me in the middle of the station, right in front of the cops. Jesus. In the car, she goes, “If you get caught again, I’m going to rip your ears off.” Empty threat, I guess.

The Den—I want to talk about that. Please, let’s. Your first time there? It was with Karolina, like I said, and there was a local band playing that night. They’d wrapped up their set by the time we arrived and were just … jamming on the stage, taking feedback and requests from the people who were still there. Some kind of funky jazz mash-up. I liked it. How did it come to you? It opened in ‘57 as a bar and, at some point, it turned into more of a music venue open to a certain segment of Nakawe. The guy who owned it gave exposure to a lot of people who went on to really do something with their art, and that’s why it ended up being a somewhat exclusive spot. Celebrities already knew it and brought their friends. Uh huh. I could stroll up, and the cameras weren’t with me because they were already there. He got tired of that, I think—He was an older fella, right? Yeah. But, really, he managed other properties, and The Den wasn’t his passion project the way it’s become for me. So, you had the money and took it off his hands.

What goes on in there? [Laughs] Pat, you’ve been inside. Well, not for me! If I’m going to describe it to people who’ll never go inside, what would I say? I mean, it’s a hangout spot. It’s a performance venue. We had, uh, mimes last month. Truly gifted, those people. [Laughs] Really? I don’t come up with all of the ideas myself, but I only agree to the shit I’m interested in. It’s kind of selfish, but I guess I’m lucky to know a lot of people who’ll toss in five dollars to enjoy it. It’s something. Compelling. I mean it. Thanks. That’s not all, though. I mean, you describe it as a “haven.” It’s very private. Some of your regulars are troubled individuals. Damn, Patricia, just say it. I feel like a cop! “Do you condone drug use in your establishment?” nonsense. But, well … I’m not explaining it. Either you—they, whoever the hell—get it or don’t. Come for the music, come to unwind however you like, doesn’t fucking matter to me as long as you’re coming with an invitation. I like to go in the back room, close the door, let the music and noise seep through. Muffled. You don’t really strike me as a partier, frankly. You never have. I wouldn’t argue with that. I like parties, but I don’t need to be at the center. Some do. That’s fine. This place is for us all.

Maybe it works out because of that, that you’re curating this space but not necessarily always in it? What do you mean? Well, you reopened it and then, if memory serves, immediately went off to do a film. The party kept going. You just like to know it’s happening. Alright, sure. That’s true. Knowing it’s there … Yeah. I like it. I was in that back room, thinking about the script, when I decided to do it, actually. Life felt like it was falling into place. It was a good time to take a leap. “’You are going to be a cowboy?’” “’No, I’m going to be a farmer.’” I had that conversation a thousand times. Reporters, man. Hey! Everyone was so surprised. I think they thought the premise was … I don’t know, that it just wasn’t something I would want to do? Or, worse, that the filmmakers wouldn’t want to work with someone like me? Unflattering assumptions, sounds like. Can’t blame them. I had a lot to prove. Still do.

How was six weeks in Texict? Fucking heaven. I loved it. My mother’s from the northwest so, even when I visited family, it wasn’t anywhere close. No reason to visit until we dropped in to do the film. Every day, I woke up happy to be alive. Happy to be doing this job. Gorgeous. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it wasn’t just the location, was it?

No, you’re right. I felt like I was really acting—for the first time, seriously. Maybe the cast helped? I’d worked with established actors before. The leads in Sugar Sweet were—well, you know who they were. I learned a ton from them. But, yeah, I guess Sasha was the first person I’d worked alongside who had me sweating. Oh? I wanted to impress her so fucking badly. I wanted to keep up, you know? So talented. So raw. She rips every line out of her chest with her bare hands. Bloodbath of emotion. The premise was new, too. Not a lighthearted romance this time. No. We were young parents of a ill child—stressed as fuck, trying to make life work, struggling separately to be together. Can’t lie, I ate that shit up. So did the critics. Hell yeah.

Every nomination felt surreal. The recognition was incredible. Validating. Sasha and some of the others swept up. I was just honored to be up there with them, honestly. Okay, well, let’s talk about Sasha. Do we have to? Yes. Indulge me! [Grumbling] I mean, all I can really say at this point is that I was obsessed, and it wasn’t until it was over that I had the clarity of mind to really wonder, hm, “Was I in love with Sasha, my coworker, or was I in love with Sasha playing Lucy, my wife?” That seems like an occupational hazard. I wouldn’t describe it that way. You take sensitive, delusional, beautiful people, pay them to get vulnerable and intimate with each other … It’s special, even if it’s … Not genuine? No, it is that. It’s not real, but it is genuine. How else can you say, “Well, our schedules don’t line up anymore, but I’ll have this scar of our initials forever?” You do not! No, I don’t. The letter S is really hard to cut without fucking up. Not a sober man’s idea. No.

Since I have you on the topic—hey, no, absolutely not—I’m obligated to ask if there’s anyone in your life right now. How’s that? Women’s magazines can snap this up and stitch it together for themselves. This is a public service. Patricia … Yes, Lorencio?

Look, I know you do your research. I do. I’m very good at it, too. What’s that like, princess pus—Pat. Pat, I’m begging you—Are you obsessed? The letter L is easier, I bet. It is. Would you go with another L or an R?

I’m not talking about this—not for you to print, anyway. Well, talk to me as a friend, then? I’m not just professionally nosy. We’re friends? Who else calls me Pat and gets away with it? You haven’t been Trish in a long time, it’s true … [Sighs] Fuck. Someone can be precious, right? Lovable. You can hold them in your hands and think, “This person matters to me. They’re special. I like to be around them; I like to listen to them; I want their affection.” You can really, genuinely cherish someone.

But? Maybe you find their life to be completely fucking repellent. Unbearable. … Damn.

There’s parallels, though, right? I mean, fame is fame, there’s got to be value in relatability, and—There’s an open mic going on downstairs in the hotel bar right this minute. Let’s take a break, Pat, what do you say? Let’s just go watch some of it. I’ll let you print dick measurements and my deepest, darkest secrets if you say yes. [Laughs] Well, if that’s on the table—

#just gonna toss in a cw #cw drugs #long post #ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e04

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iamjacksragingboner · 10 months

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Gross Childhood Best Friend Soap - Alternate Endings

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: Some angst but like you'll live, you don't end up with Soap though you're rejecting him like that's the whole thing

Part One: You can find part one with the original, happy ending here. Please read that one first so you're up to speed with the context to these other endings.

A/N: As I was writing the end of the Gross Childhood Best Friend Soap fic, I briefly had the thought to make the reader reject Soap, like bitch oh my god have some self worth you don't need to immediately forgive him for being a dick to you.

Anyway, this alternate ending could go one of two ways.

The Immediate Rejection.

“Why don’tcha come back to mine with me, bonnie,” Johnny coos, and for a moment you almost accept his offer.

Almost.

Sure, the boy you’d spent way too many years pining over and never gave you the time of day finally paying attention to you was great, in theory, but it only took a second of reminiscing to think better of it.

This boy was the reason you spent so many nights walking home alone, cursing yourself for falling for his shallow promises spoken by sugar sweet lips again and again.

"Ah, no. Thanks Johnny, but I'm not interested." It comes out dry, but you hope it gets the point across. He had missed his window of opportunity years ago.

Johnny laughs and jostles your shoulder. "Come on, lass. Just a night! Doesn't have tae mean anythin'. I've missed ye."

You hold strong to your word, as attractive as Johnny is, and always has been, you know you're better than that. "Really Johnny, I'm not in the mood."

His hand skirts up your thigh and you groan internally at his inability to take the neon-coloured hint. "I bet I can change that for ye."

Swallowing your pride, you lean into Johnny and cup a hand to whisper into his ear "I have like three STD's at the moment, dude. I don't think you wanna bump uglies with me currently."

It was a silly lie, but you knew it would be more than enough to get the message through his relatively thick skull. You were right, of course, because as you pulled back to take a look at the expression on his face, you had to fight not to burst into laughter.

Johnny looked as though he'd sucked on a lemon but was trying not to let it show. He'd pulled back from you by at least a foot as well, and kept his hands firmly clasped in his lap. "Ah," he said, and cleared his throat. "Well. Good to know."

"Yup."

Silence. You wondered how long it would take Johnny to get up and scout out a different lady, as you were sure he would after this.

As it turns out, it took a grand total of a minute and a half for him to get up, bid his adieus and walk out of the bar, promising he'd call you soon, and wishing you all the best with your... things.

You downed the rest of your drink with a wicked grin stretching across your cheeks and walked merrily home.

2. The Gradual Realisation of Self Worth.

He only comes to you when he needs you.

Only gives you affection when he knows it'll benefit him.

Leaves you cold and alone in bed.

Tells you you're beautiful, says he loves you, but only when you're actively serving him. Patching his wounds. Sending him care packages. Buying him drinks. Always giving, but never receiving.

The bed is so cold.

You curl in on yourself night after night, but you never cry. You are convinced that surely, one day he will return your affection. One day he'll prove you right and show that he has changed, has given up on his shallow promises. You ignore the voice in your head that tells you he hasn't.

You spent so long trying to fix him, put so much time into trying to make him a better person, telling him to eat better, to keep his room clean, teaching him to cook, teaching this man the bare minimum, only to get nothing in return.

He didn't love you, and at this point you weren’t even sure if you liked him. Did you like him, or did you like the comfort of having someone that could hold you, if he wanted to. There was never a guarantee.

You fixed him, but you didn't get to reap the benefits of your own hard work. You fixed him so he could go an fuck over the next person a little less.

You start rejecting his advances, ignoring his texts asking you to come over for a quick fuck. You stop sending him care packages with home made food and letters telling him about how you've been since he was home. You don't answer the door when he knocks. Quitting him cold turkey.

Eventually, he stops texting, stops calling, doesn't throw rocks at your window.

There is silence; a breath of fresh air.

You bump into him at a bar a few months later. You make polite small talk, and he flashes you that grin that pulled you in the first time, but it falls flat and slips from his face. You move away from the hand that caresses your waist.

"Let's get out of here," he bends down to whisper in your ear, "come back to mine, I've missed ye, bonnie." Johnny's hand creeps up your face, a wolf-like grin stretches and snarls across his cheeks.

Your face turns stony, ashen. "Leave me alone, John."

His grin falters at the omission of his nickname, the name you had always called him. In all your years of knowing each other, not once had you called him John.

"Bonnie," Johnny starts, concern flicking over his face. What a joke. He chooses to care now, when he's at risk of losing his quick fuck.

"Don't call me that," your voice is sharp, cutting through the pollution he's breathed on you for so long. "Do not speak to me as if you've ever given more than two shits about me, because I know for a fact the only thing you see me as is a hole to shove your dick in."

You had passed the point of mourning over what could have been, of what you wanted this 'relationship' to be. You were only capable of feeling anger and distain towards the man before you.

"Now, lass, there's no need for ye think that," Johnny rubs your arm in an attempt of comfort that came all too late. "yer more than that to me, I promise."

I promise.

"Fuck you and your promises, John," you spit, slapping his hand away from you, creating distance between you, because as far as you're concerned, he lost the privilege of touching you long ago. "You're always promising things, but you never mean any of it, do you?"

Johnny stays quiet, his mouth hanging ajar and his hand hovering in midair, as if he's shocked that his actions suddenly have consequences.

"I have tried for so long to continue to see the good in you, to believe that if I just tried a little harder, you'd actually want to pay attention to me, but I look back on that decision to try and I just feel so... stupid! So utterly stupid for not seeing you for what you are, John. Look I want to wish you the best in your future relationships but honestly I think I'd much prefer if you went and choked to death on a bag of dicks."

As much as you thought it would be cathartic to say even a quarter of what you felt Johnny needed to hear, it honestly wasn't. Johnny was silent as you picked up your things and left the bar. He at least had enough of a brain to not call you, but part of you wished he did. The part of you that still hoped the Johnny you grew up with was in there.

You hugged your arms to your chest and kicked the rocks on the pavement as you walked home alone. Again. You went to bed alone. Again. But it felt better.

Johnny wasn't coming back, and you were glad.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #childhood best friend x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish

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thesherrinfordfacility · 1 year

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so i had the bright idea of rewatching s1 today whilst im working from home, now knowing what i know about s2, and so i can ruminate a little more on s1 with the additional context. ive barely made it past five minutes

im pretty sure ive gotten most of the frames accurate from this bit, and im sure it might just be a bit of demonstrative cinematography (which ya know, *chefs kiss*) but at the same time i love going into full year 9 english teacher mode about this shit, and i think there is something to comment on (which someone already might have done but w/e). in any case, this bit of dialogue is very noticeably layered with shots of crowley and aziraphale, but intercut with the shots of adam facing down the lion:

like, i can't help but feel that there is some symmetry in this and either other people have spotted it and im very behind, OR we havent spotted it and s2 spoilers have helped unlock it✨

so who is meant to be who here? for my money it would be that adam is mirroring aziraphale, and eve is mirroring crowley - in so much that at a really shallow level, aziraphale is a platoon leader, a guardian, fought in the war etc. crowley, regardless of his rank, is a starmaker, and let's face it the boy has the structural integrity of a strand of dried linguine. so we could look at it on that level (ignore the lion for the moment ill sort of explain that if it isn't already obvious)

but also we now know that this scene is not their first meeting, and that aziraphale and crowley do in fact remember each other and know that they have met, and in aziraphale's case is probably the teeniest bit shy bc damn heart eyes as an angel, heart eyes as a demon 🥵 but my point is that this is after the fall. after (as far as crowley tells it) crowley fell for 'just ask[ing] questions", and "just hung around the wrong people".

now i have my thoughts on why crowley fell: tldr because it would require another post - both reasons he gave above are bullshit and obvs conflict with each other, so i think that he doesn't actually know why he fell and has just guessed his transgressions so he can rationalise it, that god actually never had an issue with him asking questions, and instead it was actually god's plan to make him fall so he could represent the 'evil' side of free will on earth, as aziraphale's counterpart, and essentially ensure that humankind stays eternally 'in balance'

ANYWAY so the fact that in the lion sequence, 'crowley' is being shielded by 'aziraphale' against an unknown entity; but does this mirror a flashback, or is it foreshadowing? again, id put my bets on the former visually, but the latter... lyrically? idk the word but regardless take the dialogue:

"What if I did the right thing;

with the whole 'eat the apple business'?

A demon can get into a lot of trouble;

for doing the right thing."

so let's rephrase this:

"Was it the right decision to fall;

was I right to choose this for myself?

to choose the right to choose?

Because i feel like i could live to regret it."

so is crowley in essence already asking if aziraphale is on his side? is he asking if falling was the right thing, the good thing, to do (regardless of whether god gave him any choice in the matter)? But was he given the choice, first true free will? did aziraphale try to protect him during the fall, so crowley could get out in time (but ultimately fail? or at least bought Crowley enough time to find a back staircase and fall gently and peacefully, 'saunter vaguely downwards'?), and then get assigned to earth to be the 'good' side of the coin for humanity?

and is crowley asking if aziraphale will continue to be with him? in whatever romantic, platonic, acquaintance context you want - is he asking aziraphale if aziraphale will fight for him again, for them both? aziraphale made his decision, enacted his free will, in giving the humans a sword, and thus brought the concept of war and horror to earth, even if that was never his intention - so now swordless, and now only condemned to watch humanity as it strides out on its own (or was this the plan all along?👀), is aziraphale willing to do it? does he have the power, the strength, the will? would he stretch his finger over the line to fight on their side?

maybe im asking the wrong kind of questions, but all ill say is that in the above sequence? at the end of the dialogue? adam kills the lion.

i think 'their side' began in the job minisode, yes maybe, but also maybe the idea of it, the understanding of it, was planted here.

#good omens #anyway time to continue with the rest of ep1 lmao #s1 meta #crowley meta #the fall/the great war spec

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fairyniceyeah · 18 days

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💎 I love my team, I love my crew (Part 6/7)

Title from Super (SEVENTEEN)

ILMTILMC Part I ILMTILMC Part II ILMTILMC Part III ILMTILMC Part IV ILMTILMC Part V

Summary: Jeonghan and Jun are faced with deciding which member receives the last medication.

CW: emeto, diarrhea in the context of illness, fevers, IVs

Sickies: Woozi/Jihoon + Minghao + Seungkwan + Vernon + S.Coups/Seungcheol + Wonwoo Caretakers: Jeonghan + Jun + Wonwoo + Hoshi/Soonyoung + Mingyu + Dino/Chan

💎😇

Something was eating Jun up from the inside and Jeonghan needed to know yesterday what was wrong. Considering that all cabins seemed to be okay at the moment, they unanimously decided to walk up to the deck, hoping for a bit of fresh air now that they had been inside for so long.

The night air was a bit cold and Jeonghan shivered a bit. Stars were shining brightly over them and the moon, along with a few lamps illuminated the lounge area where they sat down side by side.

Jeonghan wouldn’t press Jun to speak even despite feeling like he would vibrate out of his skin with worry. Jun would speak when he had gathered himself.

“We have a problem”, Jun whispered, despite it just being the two of them. Jeonghan hummed and pulled the younger into his side. Jun was part of the hyung line, yes, but with two 95-liners out of commission Jun had basically been promoted to primary carer. He did well, but it was not his job, not what he was used to. Between eomma-hyung Jeonghan and caring leader Seungcheol there seldom was need for any other member to step up.

“There is no more medication left.”

Icy shock went through Jeonghan’s body. No, that couldn’t be, was his first thought. But Jun would not come to him with such information without not having fact-checked it. Besides, he had been with the medic, so he would know.

“Joshua-hyung got an IV. But most is expired and can’t be given. Well, we literally only have one antiemetic left. Sure, some pills but honestly, none of them will be able to keep them down.”

“Okay.” Jeonghan didn’t know what else to reply. He was scared too. So he just wrapped his arms tighter around Jun and let the younger calm down, ignoring the patches of tear and snot on his shoulder.

“We can decide who to give the last one to. Or maybe we should keep it in case somebody else might need it in the future”, Jun sniffed. “The medic texted and said that nobody from the staff currently is in need of it.”

They were both silent for a moment. Jeonghan tried to push back his own tears and focus on a solution. This was not his area of expertise. He didn’t want to be responsible for such a heavy-weight decision. But he couldn’t ask that of the younger members to decide either. He would have to step up as the healthy mat-hyung.

“Hao and Shua already have IVs. Jihoon managed to take some meds and eat just now”, Jeonghan reported. “What about Cheollie and Kwan-ah?”

“And Vernonie.”

Another sick dongsaeng. It didn’t make the choice easier.

“I’m mostly worried about Cheollie-hyung”, Jun continued, “he threw up multiple times and when Dino took his temperature about fifteen minutes ago he was pushing 40°C. He’s barely conscious. Seungkwan and Vernon are both vomiting and feverish too, but not as badly. Yet, maybe. Kwan-ah is at 38.6°C and Vernon at 38.4°C.”

Jeonghan took a deep breath, knowing if he didn’t he’d just start crying instead of speaking.

“Cheollie can’t take any oral medication?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. We could try, I guess, but he started throwing up when Dino-yah just tried to take his temperature.”

Jeonghan hummed. “He would need to eat first. Jihoonie got a really bad stomach ache from taking the meds on an empty stomach. We can’t risk that again.”

Another moment of silence.

“Han-ah? Jun-ah?”, the lead manager said quietly from behind them, causing both of them to jump. The man apologized and walked around them to sit with them in the lounge area.

“How are you holding up?”, he asked gently. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be of much help. A lot of staff members are not well either, though none are as bad off as the members.”

“We’re okay”, Jun whispered, wiping one last stray tear from his face. Jeonghan just nodded, despite feeling the opposite. He knew they both were lying. The manager seemed to know too.

“I just finished speaking with the CEO. We can’t move the boat, we don’t have enough healthy people able to sail. But the good news is that they are sending medical evacuation our way. The boat should be here by morning with enough medications and doctors to help.”

It was meant to be reassuring. But all Jeonghan wanted to do was cry. Morning seemed so far. They would have to last the night first.

💎🐈‍⬛

Wonwoo didn’t know what he expected when he entered the cabin. It certainly was more peaceful than this.

Soonyoung and Jihoon were sitting side by side on Jihoon’s bed, Soonyoung holding the younger up as Jihoon violently threw up all over himself, the dance leader, the bedding and the floor. The smell would have been overwhelming if it hadn’t been stuck in Wonwoo’s nose for hours.

Jihoon was crying again, coughing up mouthfuls of what Wonwoo suspected was Mingyu’s juk. This really wasn’t good - no matter how Jihoon seemed to feel better between overwhelming bouts of nausea he just wasn’t able to keep anything down.

Wonwoo rushed over, trying not to step into the puddle and grabbed the trash can that was standing uselessly on the side of the bed. It must have happened too quickly for Soonoyung to grab it. He held it under Jihoon’s chin and gently caressed the younger’s hair that had fallen out of his braid and was now in the line of danger.

“Oh, Jihoonie”, he whispered, feeling so helpless in face of his friend’s illness.

At least Minghao was still asleep.

“Sorry”, the producer whimpered as his body gave him a short break, “I thought…” He had to break off to retch again.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Breathe”, Soonyoung said but his voice was wobbly. Wonwoo shot him a look but Soonyoung shook his head. They could talk about whatever Soonyoung was dealing with later.

It took another few minutes for Jihoon to be able to lean back a bit, looking so young and scared. Wonwoo carefully placed the bucket down and as he looked up, Soonyoung was already wiping the producer’s tears away.

“Guess eating wasn’t a good idea, huh?”, the dancer remarked. “I’m so sorry, I really thought it might help.”

So that was what was bothering the dancer. Before Wonwoo could even reassure him, Jihoon mumbled: “Not your fault. I should have told you I was feeling so sick. Mingyu was so proud. I’m sorry.”

Soonyoung seemed like he wanted to retort to that but Wonwoo interrupted them this time. “Let’s play the blame game another time. How do you feel now?”

Jihoon smiled sheepishly, then his expression went hard and he clutched his stomach. “Stomach still hurts. Badly.” He buried his face in Soonyoung’s shoulder, trying to breathe through the pain.

“Hm, okay. I’ll see what we can do about that. First: Do you two wanna get cleaned up in the bathroom? I’ll take care of everything here.”

“Sorry.”

“Nope, all out of accepting stupid apologies”, Wonwoo replied and ushered the two into the tiny bathroom. “Try to take a shower if you can.”

Wonwoo emptied the bucket into the toilet and then placed it by the door to the hallway. Normally he’d washed it out in the shower but that seemed a bit disgusting considering that Jihoon and Soonyoung were about to shower. So instead he gathered the soiled blankets, grabbed the dirty clothes from the bathroom floor and walked to the laundry room again. It was becoming oddly familiar to him.

On his way back to the room, having found a mop and a cleaning bucket, he stumbled into Mingyu, who grimaced when he saw what he was holding.

“Jihoon”, Wonwoo explained and sighed. “He’s really not doing well. Can you see if you find Jun or Jeonghan? I think Jihoon needs an IV even if he really doesn’t want it.”

“Yeah.”

“How are the others, Gyu?”, Wonwoo asked, realizing he had no idea how the other sick members were doing.

“Jun and I managed to get some juk into Vernon and Seungkwan”, Mingyu reported. Wonwoo sighed. He hadn’t even known that Vernon was sick too. His best friend sniffled a bit before adding: “I don’t think Cheollie-hyung is doing well. He’s really feverish.”

Wonwoo just squeezed his shoulder in silent support and they took different paths.

Once he had everything cleaned up and had taken the last clean bedding from the second bunk bed just in time for Jihoon and Soonyoung to stumble out of the shower, Minghao woke up.

“Gege?”, he asked in Mandarin, clearly still half-asleep.

Seeing that Soonyoung had no issues supporting a wobbly and seemingly dizzy Jihoon, Wonwoo went over to him and sat down beside him on the bed. “Hyung is here, hm? Jun isn’t here at the moment.”

Minghao grumbled a bit in unhappiness but wiggled closer to Wonwoo anyhow and lifted his head to lay it on Wonwoo’s thigh. He sighed contentedly and Wonwoo thought he would just fall back asleep again when Minghao rolled onto his back and blinked up at Wonwoo.

“Wonwoo-hyung?”, he asked sleepily.

“Hi, baby”, he greeted softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Hm. Better I think”, Minghao said. “My stomach doesn’t seem angry anymore. Just tired.”

“I’m glad”, Wonwoo replied honestly. At least one dongsaeng was feeling less bad. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“Hm, yeah.”

Within seconds Minghao was asleep again.

Peace didn’t last long.

“Jihoonie?”, Soonyoung called in a panic and Wonwoo jerked his head up to see what was going on. His heart dropped to his knees as he saw Soonyoung struggle to keep a limp and obviously unconscious Jihoon from falling to the floor.

💎😇

The moment Mingyu approached them, they quickly stopped their conversation with the lead manager. There was no need for Mingyu to get even more worried and he had likely sought them out for a reason. Jeonghan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will his headache away.

“Gyu? What’s wrong?”, Jun asked, already halfway upright before he finished his own question.

“Wonwoo-hyung asked me to find you. Jihoon-hyung wasn’t able to keep the juk down. I think he’s really unwell.” Mingyu fidgeted a bit, wringing his hands. He seemed incredibly nervous to deliver the bad news. Jeonghan suppressed his urge to groan.

“I’ll go. Will you check on Cheollie-hyung?”, Jun said, turning his attention to Jeonghan. Jun smiled a bit, probably offering because he knew that Jeonghan was worried about his best friend and hadn’t seen him in some time. And he was worried. But he didn’t know if he wanted to see Seungcheol if he truly was this bad off. He just wanted to run.

“Yeah”, he agreed nevertheless. He couldn’t just refuse and worry his dongsaengs. “We need to check on Shua too. I don’t like that Seokmin’s alone with him.”

“Do you want me to go check on Shua-hyung?”, Mingyu asked, looking like he was surprising himself with the offer as well. While they didn’t want to worry their dongsaengs, Jeonghan couldn’t deny that the help would be very much needed and appreciated.

“That would be really nice, actually”, Jun replied, “thank you, Minguy-ah. But if Shua-hyung and Seokmin are fine, please try to just rest.” As he walked past he ruffled Mingyu’s hair in appreciation. It was a good solution. Maybe one room where the members could peacefully sleep was a good idea.

Jeonghan pushed himself to his feet and the three headed downstairs and into the three rooms.

The cabin was more relaxed than Jeonghan had imagined. Seungkwan and Vernon were asleep on one bed, cuddled up to each other. Seungkwan was laying on his back with Vernon passed out on his chest, arms holding the younger in a soft embrace. It was cute. Homely.

The only light came from the bathroom; it was bright enough to not stumble into things when walking but low enough to not disturb the sleeping members.

Dino was perched on the bed next to Seungcheol, pressing a cool compress to the leader’s forehead. He looked relieved the moment Jeonghan entered, shoulders slumping down and a tiny smile replacing the worried frown.

“Hyung”, he whispered, mindful of the sleeping members, “I am so glad you are here.”

“Hi, Dino-yah”, Jeonghan replied as he came to stand next to the maknae, pulling him into a half-embrace against his stomach, “I’m sorry it took hyung so long. A lot is going on. How is he?”

“His fever barely went down. He couldn’t eat anything of the juk. He’s … bad.”

They only had one antiemetic left. Something that Jihoon really needed, considering he couldn’t stop throwing up everything in his stomach. But Seungcheol needed something to get his fever down and for that he needed to be able to keep the medication down long enough for it to work.

As if knowing they were talking about him, Seungcheol shifted. He was so incredibly pale, everything around him - hair, clothes, sheets - all sweat-soaked. He was shivering badly but there was a bright flush on his face. He seemed to be deeply asleep but not peacefully.

“I was thinking a cool shower might help? My eomma always made me take lukewarm baths when I was sick as a kid”, Dino continued. “I just can’t do it on my own.”

It was not a bad idea. Actually it was a pretty pretty good one. Jeonghan told the maknae as much, praising him. Together they decided that taking off Seungcheol’s shirt and pants would be easier when the leader was still in bed so they went to work.

Seungcheol was not a short guy, anything but. While Jeonghan was as tall as him, Seungcheol was a lot more muscular and therefore heavier. And Dino was tiny. Carrying their leader was difficult, considering there was no help from him.

Luckily the shower door was open and Jeonghan slid inside, leaning Seungcheol against his chest. There was no way he would be able to hold himself up.

“Careful, water”, Dino said and aimed the shower head at them. The water wasn’t cold, lukewarm really, but immediately Seungcheol reacted as if he had been dosed in ice. A full body shiver ran through him, nearly making Jeonghan lose his grip on him. Then he woke up with a cry.

Weakly he kicked out, struggling against the hold Jeonghan had on him. “Stop”, he begged, his voice full of scared desperation. “Please.”

“I’m sorry, Cheollie”, Jeonghan whispered into his ear, “we need to get you cooled down.”

The leader whimpered and he seemed not to understand Jeonghan’s words. He still fought, twisting his body and … oh, he was crying.

“Please”, Seungcheol whimpered. “It hurts.”

Jeonghan understood that the cold water must have felt painful on his hot skin but they really needed that fever to get lower. He tightened his grip and looked up at the maknae, who was staring at them with a mix of grim determination and fear.

“Don’t stop, Dino”, Jeonghan ordered shakily. It was horrible to watch Seungcheol cry and fight like this and he was scared too. But they had no choice.

“I got you, ddadu, it’s going to be alright.” Jeonghan hoped his words were right.

Seungcheol continued sobbing and moving uncoordinatedly. He didn’t recognize where he was, with whom he was, so much was clear. Seeing their headstrong, smart leader helpless and crying like this … Jeonghan wanted to cry with him.

Instead he mumbled comforting whispers over Seungcheol’s pained whimpers.

It seemed like hours later when Seungcheol stopped fighting and just slumped back into Jeonghan, exhausted. His head lolled against Jeonghan’s shoulder and to Jeonghan’s surprise he opened his eyes. There was a clarity in them that had been deeply missed.

“Hannie?”, he whispered, voice hoarse probably from the vomiting earlier.

Hearing his voice made tears shoot to Jeonghan’s eyes and this time he couldn’t suppress them. At least he could pass them off as water from the shower.

“Hi, Cheollie. How are you feeling?”

“Weird. My stomach hurts. My head too.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“A bit. I’m really cold too.”

They had been under the shower for nearly fifteen minutes, it would have to be enough. “Dino-yah, please turn off the water.”

The maknae did as bid and held Seungcheol steady while Jeonghan got up and stripped out of his wet clothes. He didn’t particularly care for himself but Dino threw him a pointed look until he dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his shivering upper body. His wet boxers clung to his skin but this was really not Jeonghan’s priority.

They managed to get Seungcheol wrapped in a towel and sitting on the closed toilet seat soon enough. Dino procured some underwear and a tank top for the leader, and a set of clothes for Jeonghan from Seungcheol’s suitcase as well. He scurried off to strip the bed off the disgusting, sweat-soaked sheets. Seungcheol was already falling asleep again, but with gently shaking him awake every minute or so, Jeonghan managed to get first himself and then his best friend dressed. Maybe the light clothes would help him feel better.

“I wanna sleep”, Seungcheol whispered, “I am so tired.”

“I know, baby”, Jeonghan replied and grabbed the thermometer gun from where it was laying on the sink, “I know you’re exhausted. Let me take your temperature and dry your hair. Do you think you could eat a bit and take some medicine?”

“I’m tired.”

Jeonghan sighed. The thermometer still beeped loudly, suggesting a temperature of 39.2°C. At least the shower had helped a bit. If Seungcheol couldn’t keep the medicine down, he would need the antiemetic so he could finally take fever reducers. The temperature was too high to stay like this the whole night.

He rubbed Seungcheol’s hair dry as much as he could without a hair dryer - he didn’t want to use it in case it woke up Seungkwan and/or Vernon. Even if they had slept through the shower he wanted them to rest as much as possible.

When Dino returned to the bathroom, they lifted Seungcheol between them and helped the sleepy leader take the few steps to his bed. The moment he sat down, Seungcheol tried to lay down but Jeonghan stopped him as much as he didn’t want to.

“Just a few minutes, Cheollie, then you can go back to sleep”, he assured. “Try to eat a bit, okay?” He gestured at Dino to bring over the thermos of juk, hoping the porridge was at least a bit warm still. Dino poured some of the contents into a bowl and grabbed a spoon before carefully kneeling down in front of Seungcheol.

“You just need to cuddle Hannie-hyung, hyung”, Dino encouraged, “I’ll feed you, okay?”

Seungcheol turned his face to hide in Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Too tired. Sick. Don’t wanna throw up.”

“Please try, Cheollie. It’s important.”

But Seungcheol refused, still clearly too unwell to do anything as strenuous as eat. The shower had taken all his remaining energy and more. Jeonghan’s voice shook as he decided: “Dino, go get the medic. He needs the IV if he refuses to eat.”

“IV?”, Seungcheol asked, suddenly a bit more alert. “I don’t want an IV.”

“I know, but we need to get your fever down and if you can’t eat now, we need to stop your nausea somehow so you can take them orally”, Jeonghan explained patiently.

“Okay.”

💎🍚

“I’m sorry, Jihoonie”, Jun said resolutely, “I know you don’t want an IV but you’ve thrown up everything you have eaten since this morning. You fainted after the shower because you are really out of strength.”

Jihoon wanted to cry, scream, yell. Truth was, he was too exhausted. He knew Jun had a point. He had managed the shower just fine with Soonyoung holding him up. But the few steps back to bed had been too much for his abused circulatory system. His vision had gone black just after a step and Soonyoung had managed to catch him just barely. He had woken up on the floor to the dancer elevating his legs and Wonwoo tapping his cheeks, trying to get him to drink something.

But even recovering for a few moments sitting against Wonwoo on the floor, hadn’t done much. The three sips of water he had managed to swallow had come back up nearly directly into the plastic bag Soonyoung had managed to shove to his lips just in time.

Was enduring a stranger poking him with needles while his stomach was still throwing a fit really worth it? Jihoon wasn’t sure.

Jun was sure enough for both of them apparently. So were Wonwoo and Soonyoung.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”, Jihoon asked.

“No”, Soonyoung replied, taking both of Jihoon’s hands in his and squeezed. “I promise I’ll stay here and the medic is kicked out the moment the IV is done. But you need medication and you need fluids. If you can’t keep anything down you’ll just feel worse.”

“Okay.”

“Wonwoo-yah, why don’t you go and find the … Wonwoo-yah?”, Jun said and as he faltered all attention was turned to the tall rapper, who was leaning against the bunk bed, using one hand to hold himself up against the railing and was clutching his stomach with the other.

“Are you alright?”, Jun asked worriedly and stepped closer to him.

Wonwoo lifted his head and groaned in pain. His eyes darted to the hallway door, then to the bathroom door. “Don’t follow me.”

With more speed than any of them had anticipated he stumbled to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Fuck. Another one down. Jihoon felt bad, he had been with Wonwoo nearly all day. It was likely him who had infected him.

“Hold on”, Jun mumbled and stepped to knock on the door. “Wonwoo, can I come in?”

There was silence for a minute before Wonwoo, voice muffled but clearly full of pain, answered: “Please don’t. I, uhm, I’m not throwing up.”

They all shuddered when they realized what was happening.

“Maybe he should have the IV if he is sick from both ends”, Jihoon said, knowing he sounded a bit too gleeful for it to be polite. He wished he felt bad about it but he was worried for Wonwoo and scared of needles and strangers, all while sick. Maybe that gave him a bit of grace.

“I’m … God, this is embarrassing, I’m not nauseous”, Wonwoo called.

“Not at all?”, Jun questioned.

“No. Just you know … everything turned liquid in the other direction.” Jihoon did feel really bad now. He was sure that Wonwoo was likely even more embarrassed now than Jihoon had been all day and he had thrown up on another member - twice.

“I’ve been cleaning up puke all day, why am I getting the opposite?”, Wonwoo added and groaned.

“Can we do anything for you?”, Jun asked at the same time Soonyoung mumbled: “Isn’t the opposite of throwing up eating?”

“Leave me to die in humiliating peace”, Wonwoo answered. “Soonyoung, I love you but shut the fuck up.”

“I think he has been wanting to say this to you for years”, Jihoon stage-whispered. Soonyoung pouted.

Jihoon grinned a bit, though it turned into a grimace when his stomach cramped anew and he pressed his lips tightly shut.

Jun sighed and broke the light hearted affair with his next words. “Well, Jihoonie, I’m sorry, but I guess you’re up after all. I’ll go find the medic.”

ILMTILMC Part VII

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

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