#also i laughed too hard at my own goddamn joke

[simpjaes]

So Sweet. ― P.JS

The one where Jay, in all of his cherry-flavored thoughts, makes you cherry flavored too. requested here, here, and here 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― park jongseong x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 3.8k

CONTENT―   reader is jealous over nothing, NO THIS IS NOT ANGST, mostly just smutty stuff, food play, costume party (jay is wearing cat ears hueheuehue), alcohol is involved but it’s consenting, ya’ll fuck in [redacted]’s room and leave the mess for him to clean up. 

WARNING―  idk, reader is possessive and jealous, kinda crazy. very me tbh. jay kinda just shoves it in even tho it’s painful for her……and keeps going………

NOTE ― happy almost halloween :D this is very short, written with haste, and probably not that good but…….jay, yknow? jay makes it good. 

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― big fat huge cock jay, candy-play, costumes & cat ears, reader sucks his candy like it’s his cock and he nearly combusts over it,  pussy eating, cock stuffing, cream pie

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s gotta be the cat ears, you think, as you stare at your boyfriend from across the room. Everyone is a blur, but goddamn something is off tonight. Because, like, why is every fucking woman in this room staring at him like they wanna rip his clothes off?! 

Or, maybe it’s that faux-freshly-fucked blushy glow across his cheeks, or the blinking out of sync that comes paired with his drunken jokes and words. The atmosphere truly is making the usual, stoic, lame-ass Jay appear as nothing but an endearing cat-man who deserves a mouth on him. 

And you know, the fact that you came here with him, with matching ears and a fucking tail, should scare off all these little bitches, yet there they are? Suddenly just so interested in your man?! 

Jake is the first to notice the way you stare, raising a brow in confusion.

“You guys get in a fight or something?” He asks as his own animal-themed ears flop around when he turns his head to you.

“No–” You narrow your eyes at a woman who keeps glancing at your boyfriend as you say it, paying Jake little to no mind. “Just wondering why everyone has a hard-on for my boyfriend right now.”

Jake nods, pouting his lip out and raising a brow as if to silently say “Ah, makes sense.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better–” Jake starts, glancing around the room. “I literally don’t see anyone trying to get it on with him. I think you’re making problems.”

Pause.

“Please. Look at her!” You slightly raise your voice, pointing to a woman who is absolutely not trying to get on Jay’s dick, in fact, she’s literally eyeing Heeseung like she’s about to pounce. 

It’s really just the fact that she’s standing right next to Jay, and you caught her looking at him a few times, and also they had a “conversation” a few days ago. Nevermind that it was a “See ya after break!” type of conversation, or that she said it to everyone, and not specifically to Jay. It’s just that he responded alongside everyone else.

“You’re being annoying.” Jake finally starts to walk away from you, not actually annoyed but more-so amused at how jealous you’ve become solely because you’ve had a few shots. 

It’s not often you drink, after all. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Gonna go kiss on your man–” Jake laughs, now rushing his way through a crowd of drinkers and glancing at you when he whispers in your boyfriend’s ear.

You watch the way Jay falls into a face of concentration trying to hear his friend, and then see his eyes flick to you. 

Oh, well that’s just great. Surely Jake isn’t actually trying to hit on Jay, he’s probably over there snitching like a little asshole. Which sucks because this relationship with Jay is….it’s kinda new, you know? You don’t want to come across as the possessive type, or like– controlling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself panicking when Jay stumbles his way over to you, a newly unwrapped lollipop hanging half from his lips as he sips his drink around the candy, and only spilling it once solely because he keeps his eyes on you rather than his footing. Jake is left behind, now beside that girl that clearly wants Heeseung to bone her into the next dimension, looking uncomfortable and left out. 

Good. He deserves it. 

“So…” Jay says as he stands next to you, leaning back against the wall and snaking one arm behind you to grab at your waist. “Someone’s jealous?”

You fold in on yourself a little bit, feeling that grip he gives to you that forces you against his side. 

“Of course not.” You mumble, sipping from your cup and still staring out into the room of people. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Jake said so.” Jay laughs now, leaning his head over to whisper under your ear. “You saying he’s lying?”

His breath sends a shiver down your spine just as the song changes to that of muffled bass, loud enough to have you wanting to cover your ears.

“Yes–” You start. 

“Huh?” Jay pulls back to look at you. 

“Yes, he’s lying.” You try again.

“What?”

Before you try to answer again, you feel him pull you. Around a corner, up, up, and away from the booming music one floor up. He lands you in someone’s room, fuck if you know who’s.

“Hm?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you look at him now. No one else in the room to muffle that croak in his drunken voice, those blushed cheeks, the fucking ears.

“I said, he’s lying.” You say meekly, unable to tear your eyes from the little split in his lip, reddened by the candy hanging from his mouth. 

His breath smells of cherry and tequila when he leans closer, tilting his head playfully to look into your eyes, as if to check if you’re the one lying. 

“Is that so?” He says, pulling the lollipop from his lips and sucking the taste down his throat, allowing that scent to waft through your nose yet again. “So you don’t mind knowing Jake’s ex tried to get my number?” 

Your eyes widen before they narrow. You cross your arms and look away from him.

“Of course not.” You lie. 

“And you wouldn’t care that I gave it to her?” He says now, hovering his lips near yours, eyes hooded as he plays with his words. 

That makes your blood boil though, and no longer can you sit here and pretend like you wouldn’t bring out the claws and start pulling hair if it comes to it. After all, that bitch was a homewrecker! Totally broke Jake’s heart and has the audacity to come to parties when she knows he will be here? And she asked for Jay’s number?!

And he gave it to her?! Jay chuckles when he pulls back, popping the candy back into his mouth as he studies the shift in your nonchalant vibe. He stays silent though, amused, waiting for you to argue until he notices the way your eyes fall. 

No longer annoyed, but hurt.

In all fairness, that silence he gave you after that had you thinking…he really gave her his number?

“Baby–” Jay soothes now, pushing the lollipop to his cheek with his tongue so he can speak as clearly as he can despite the slur in his speech from the drinks. “I’m joking.”

The relief washes over your drunken mind, feeling better but now back to being irritated. What’s with him right now? You don’t exactly want to be jealous, but the fact that he’s making damn sure that you were is kinda…like, is he into that? Does he want you to be possessive?

You’d be lying though, if you said he didn’t look hot as hell the other day pulling you closer to his side because a store clerk looked at you for a second too long. You might’ve even swooned a bit. 

“You’re a dick.” You finally respond, shoving him back playfully, unable to hide the relieved smile on your lips. “Looking hot-and-bothered all night, leaving me in a random room only for me to see you talking with some girl after finding you again.” 

He lends you his own laugh now, wiggling his eyebrows before popping the candy out of his mouth again. “Oh, her? The girl who Heeseung basically just finger fucked on the kitchen counter?”

You pause for a second, unsure as to why that sounds hot. Maybe just because she’s not after your man? Or maybe you like, wish you’d have seen.

“And you didn’t even take me to see?!” You go to playfully shove him again, but he stops you with his own gentle shove. Straight against the door, getting up real close to your face before whispering.

“So, you were jealous?” That slur in his speech is nowhere to be found before you taste the explosion of cherry. You’re kind of just staring at him, nodding out an admittance as his eyes fall lower, to where he’s tracing the bulbous head of that lollipop against your bottom lip. “Hot.”

“You’re going to drive me insane, you know that?” You finally say after the fourth or fifth time he’s swiped that lollipop against you, adding a translucent sheen to your already alcohol-sweet lips. 

“Mhm.” He nods triumphantly, now pushing the candy past your lips and into your mouth. “Should’ve came over and let me finger fuck you on the counter next, would that have made you feel better?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, ignoring the throb between your legs at his bold words. Jay isn’t typically this feisty, though you’d have totally let him do such a thing regardless of the eyes that could see. You just, like, didn’t really think he’d be willing to do something like that.

“I learn something new about you every day.” You chuckle out, noting the way he stares at your mouth and the way you suck on his lollipop. 

“Got loads of secrets for you, babe–” He smirks, taking initiative now and pressing his palms down on your shoulders, as if to make you lower yourself to the floor. Which, of course you do. You sink down, feeling the wooden door behind you sturdy and strong. As you do, he reaches over, locking the door.

What you think is about to be the best head of his life turns out to be him sinking down with you, slotting himself between your legs on the floor and pinning you there with his hands against the door. His head tilts cutely, the cat ears now looking more realistic than ever.

He doesn’t look like a curious little black cat anymore, he looks like he’s hunting for prey as he looks at you. 

“Look at you,” He says, more serious and without that smirk before he takes the candy back. “So, so cute.”

You’re melting against him after those words, feeling his tongue lick against your lips before you can even return to compliment. It’s sweet, red coated tongues creating a sugary mess, hums and pleasant sounds leave both of you at the flavor, only to deepen the kiss because neither of you can really get enough of it either. 

You reach up in the kiss, petting the ears on his head despite knowing he can’t feel it the way a real feline would, but he reacts all the same. Totally into it, even, nearly roleplaying as he groans. Maybe he’s just amused that you did that, or maybe he’s wondering if you’ll pull at his next or something. 

And in this kiss that seems to never end, he gets touchy. Pushing and pulling you to both give and take control, one hand moving from cupping your face, to gently holding your neck, up until it finds its way down down down, then up your scanty shirt. 

Totally lost in it, both of you are. With you skewing his ears to scratching at the nape of his neck, to him groping, and suddenly– prodding that same lollipop that you’d forgotten about between both of your lips. He’s amused when you lick it, the dulling cherry flavor coming back into the kiss with full force between you as he pulls back, red salvia stains all around his mouth before the smirk is back.

He watches as you take it back into your mouth, his own hand pushing it in and out, watching you chase it when he tries to pull it out entirely, only to shove it back in, deeper. That’s when he groans, pinching your nipple through your shirt particularly hard due to the sheer arousal that rushes to his cock. It lends him a little throb, a dribble of pre-cum messing his pants.

That about does it for him, pulling the candy out of your mouth now despite the way you chase it pitifully. He pops it into his own temporarily so he can go straight for what he not only wants, but needs right now. You watch him, a little dazed with the way his hair matches perfectly with the color of the cat ears, now a little crooked due to your meddling. 

He goes straight for it too, reaching under your skirt and practically tearing your panties off of you before he’s spreading your thighs wide and re-adjusting himself back between your legs. 

You squeak a little in response, proud of the unintentional sound because it’s very in character for the whole, you know, matching cat costume thing. And he only responds with another kiss, the sucker now removed from his mouth as he offers the flavor through his own saliva. 

Drinking it up is easy as you lick into his mouth, feeling the way his fingers toy with your folds, sliding up and down the slippery heat before–

“Jay–” You pull back, confused at the new feeling between your legs as you look at him.

His pupils are wide when he looks at you, mouth still slack from the kiss you were in the middle of, shoulder moving in tune with each push inside of you. He doesn’t respond, lost entirely in the moment and so fucking horny over what he’s doing to you right now. 

He kisses against you again, moving his hand faster, deeper, when his lips reach your neck. 

“Cherry girl.” He mumbles mindlessly, kissing down your neck and to the exposed skin on your chest that your shirt offers. “Tastes good on you.” He continues to mumble, working his way down as he kisses over your clothes up until he dips under your skirt. “In you.”

So, yeah, you’re being fucked with a well-abused lollipop and you’re not ashamed to moan about it because, holy shit.

His mouth is on you harder than it was when he was making out with you previously. Chasing the flavor, moaning for it, gripping your ass and pulling you closer against his tongue. You grip at the hard floor under you, unable to grasp anything at all through the sudden and intense jolts of pleasure.

And he doesn’t stop moaning, that sucker still being pushed in and out of you, only pulled out briefly for him to, presumably, shove it in his mouth before circling his lips around your clit with a hard suck. And he does that over and over again, like a loop of intended pleasure where he’s just fucking drowning in all of his favorite flavors. 

To not be into this is insane, to not grip onto something is even crazier. You reach down, pulling your skirt up just to see the way his eyes are rolled back, totally unable to make eye contact with you as he relishes in the red-sugar flavor of your cunt. The image alone makes you roll your hips up, which leads to him moaning louder for you to do it again, and again, essentially fucking yourself both on your boyfriend’s tongue, and his candy. 

In the heat of the moment, you finally find your grip in his hair, pulling it so tightly between your fingers that you know it’s hurting him, but he seems to like it. Another secret of his, you guess, as you keep doing that, pulling his hair, riding up against the pleasure he’s offering, and then– god the fucking ears. 

So cute on a man doing something so filthy and messy. You can’t hold it, you just–

“Fuck, keep going–” You stutter out in time with your hips, jerking back and forth both towards and away from him. “Right there,”

Jay is beyond pleased knowing he can make you cum this way. It wasn’t exactly in the plan to fuck his girlfriend like this tonight, but he’s glad he did. Especially seeing you chase the pleasure like this. He’s quick to maintain his rhythm, pushing the lollipop in right at the perfect angle, lips and tongue vibrating against your clit in a way that forces your hips forward, unmoving, stiff and you release. 

He can feel it, that sticky sweet slick dripping out of you, pulsing with each rush of pleasure. It takes everything in him not to abandon your clit and drink it all up, but he’s stronger than (barely). He’s good to you, waiting until that grip in his hair finally loosens before–

You’re pulling twice as hard at it now. Feeling the way he gives you no seconds to recover. He’s immediately pushing his face back down, licking everything that’s dripped out of you and letting it slide down his throat before finally pulling the lollipop out of you.

And he continues to lick, and lick, and lick, sucking and still fucking you with his tongue, lollipop gripped in his hand, pressing it against your thigh as if it’s forgotten about.

You try to wiggle away from him, the sensitivity too much from the image of him going feral, to the way he’s licking inside of you, to the forceful push of his nose right against your sensitive clit. And it’s so fucking crazy too, the way you’re still throbbing, the way you feel a second orgasm coming far too soon to the point you know it’ll hurt. 

You grip at his hair again, accidentally unclipping one of his ears as you have to force him to come up for air. More for your sake, in all honesty, but fuuuuck, it’s hard to hold him here with the way he’s looking at you now.

Lost, confused, even a bit…insane.

“I can’t–”

He tries to push back down, tongue falling out of his mouth when you keep that grip in his hair. 

“Jay, It hurts.”

“Fuck, baby,” He starts in an out of breath groan, totally forgetting about the nearly-disintegrated lollipop as it drops to the floor. “Just really, really need it right now.” 

In that action, you see Jay act more desperate than he ever has, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you further down, forcing your legs open despite the sensitivity. You swear you hear him purr when he looks between your legs, witnessing a wet mess of sweetness, only to see even more the truth of his words now. 

You see the truth of how badly he needs it in the way he takes that sticky hand of his and pushes it down his pants, not even unbuttoning them before aggressively palming against himself, panting out for you to give him more. 

God. You think you might be in love with this guy. Too soon.

Too fucking soon.

What does it matter if you’re sensitive? Fucking look at him. He’s dying for it.

And so, you spread your legs wider, embarrassingly wiggling down to lock your legs around your sweet, black-cat of a boyfriend who can’t stop furiously jerking off. 

“Take it then.” You coo out, wiggling your open cunt right in front of his lap.

He doesn’t take his time either, shoving his too-tight pants down his thighs, shifting onto his knees, and immediately stuffing his cock into that same sugary slick. He holds his breath at first before releasing an insanely broken moan at the grip of your cunt around him.

The moan nearly sounds like he’s in pain, muttering half-words that can’t articulate a damn meaning even if he tried. Totally lost in the tightness, he barely notices you wrapping your legs around his waist, suffering through the way he knows he’s big, and ignoring how usually he always takes it slow so you can adjust. 

Not this time. No, you feel each pulse try to rip your hole just to accommodate the thickness he offers. And he just moans more at the way you wince, practically drooling on yourself as you clench, and squeeze, and hold onto him as if you’ll fall off the face of the earth if you were to let go. 

His mind is clear enough to hold you in return though, only because he knows it’s about to hurt more before it starts feeling better for you. Unfortunately, his mind is also just foggy enough to give you the short relief of his thick cock leaving you, only to slam in again, harder. 

You cry out at it, nails nearly digging straight through his shirt as you instinctively try to hold onto him through the pain. He soothes you through each pleasurable sound. Out-of-breath hums and moans right in your face when he presses his forehead to yours, each painful thrust followed with a compliment and a grunt. 

“So good, baby, so–” 

“You’ve taken it so many times before, fuck, just a bit more–” 

“Just relax. Please, baby, I know it hurts.”

Eventually, your body does relax, accommodating his size and painful plunges into you. Up until the rhythm is natural and the slapping of where your bodies meet sounds like nothing but a pornographic mess of pleasure. 

Both of you now losing it, you let Jay be the one to take it. You let him fuck freely, as hard as he wants, as loud as he wants up until you’ve had at least two more orgasms and you’re barely able to open your eyes, better yet function.

You don’t know where he got this stamina, considering most nights when you’re together it’s a one and done thing. Then again, most nights he doesn’t fuck you with halloween candy, eat it out of you, then fuck it back into you. 

When he finally reaches his climax though. Oh, oh god. You think you might’ve let the word “love” slip from your slack lips upon feeling his cum inside of you, pumping out and filling you up beyond what’s normal for him. 

You wonder if that little slip of words made him last longer, because goddamn did he hold you closer, and fuck did he kiss you like he never has before through the orgasm.

And when it’s all said and done, the two of you are left out of breath, a sticky mess of pink-tinted cum, salty sweat, and nearly bruised lips. You’d say it should be embarrassing to walk out of whoever’s room this is, but you actually find yourself giggling into your boyfriend’s side during the walk of shame. 

Mostly because you left the room together to find an entire circle of people outside of the door, presumably listening in. Which is…yeah, they’re weirdos. Then again, the two of you didn’t really make it into the room before all of this started. You guess you’d probably listen too if someone was getting fucked against a door.

The giggling though, that comes from learning who owns the bedroom you just got candy-fucked in. His wide eyes narrowing upon witnessing who was in there is probably the funniest thing you’d seen all night. 

Poor Sunghoon. You’d have cleaned up the mess if your legs were working properly.

But they’re not, so, good luck to him, you guess.

[lovebugism]

vacation, cocktails, stevie in the tiniest shorts… I mean 😮‍💨

thanks for your request lovey!! — the one where steve takes you to the beach, but him in his bathing suit is the real view (established relationship, smut 18+, 2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Steve jokes as he passes you a cocktail. It’s a red, yellow, and blue colored drink with an orange slice wedged into the top of it. It’s about as tropical as a beachside bar can get. 

The rainbow colors match his color-blocked swim trunks, though the fabric is far more muted in hue. They make his tanned skin look that much more golden. You can’t figure out which shade is most his color, though, no matter how hard you ogle. 

Steve spent a better part of the day smiling with delight every time he caught you staring. He’d been a bit scared to wear the shorts, in truth. They were far too long to be considered a speedo but revealed more of his thighs than normal trunks did. Then he saw how much you loved them and never wanted to take them off.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you take the blended drink from him. “It’s just… It’s staring me right in the face, babe.”

“Shut up,” Steve huffs out a laugh, descending on the lounge seat next to yours.

You’ve been on vacation for four days now, playing house in his parents’ beachside condo. He wears the bliss of holiday all over him, tanned skin glittering beneath a golden hour sun. He’s almost constantly shirtless because it’s so damn hot out — which has done nothing but give you ample time to leer at his toned torso, dusted with marred scars beneath sprinkles of chestnut hair.

But it’s his thighs that get you. Those goddamn perfect thighs you want to take a bite out of and ride all at once.

No one should look so good in such a tiny pair of shorts. You think it should be a crime, really. And the worst part about all of it is Steve has virtually no idea what he’s doing to you.

He just sits there next to you and laughs at your ogling — like there's anything remotely funny about the heart palpitations he’s giving you just from looking so damn good.

“I’m so glad I got you those shorts,” you confess, mostly to yourself, before sipping at the bendy straw in your cup. The fruity slush cools your warm skin almost instantly.

“Yeah,” Steve hums with a lopsided smile. His rosy lips match the sunburn on his cheekbones. “They fit like a glove, don’t they?”

You know he’s saying that just to tease you, but you nod anyway. “Yes, they do,” you singsong quietly, chewing at the end of your straw and getting lost in your leering.

It makes Steve chuckle to himself. “Alright, babe. Keep it in your pants.”

“I’d love to get into your pants, actually.”

“You’re in rare form today, aren’t you?” Steve wonders through his laughter.

Being beachside looked good on you — being away from Hawkins looked good on you. It’s the first time he’s seen you relax in a while. Like, really relax. No monsters to hunt, no children to run after, no parents to impress. It’s just you and him and an orange sun. 

And also a bar that serves alcohol that tastes like juice that you’re currently downing like it’s nothing.

“I’m tipsy and in love,” you shrug. “Sue me.”

Steve smacks his lips against his teeth. “Nah. I’m tipsy and in love, too, so… I guess I can’t really blame you…”

His admission of love makes you smile. You’ve surely heard it a million times now, but your chest sparkles like it’s the very first.

You grow suddenly soft. “Thanks for bringing me here, Stevie…”

His sheepish grin matches your own. “Thanks for coming with me, baby.”

He reaches a hand out towards you — which you take without thinking twice.

His long fingers are warm as they engulf your own. Your arms sway in the inches of space separating the two of you, knuckles gently brushing the white sand beneath you. And even though you’re touching him, you can’t help but crave more.

“You’re so far away,” you observe with a slight pout furrowing your brows.

Steve scoffs a gentle laugh. “I’m literally holding your hand.”

“Yeah, but like…” You trail off as you try to find the words to say — how to say them without sounding pathetic. Your nose scrunches softly with your admission. “I need you…”

“Need me?” he wonders with pinched brows. 

He’s concerned at first, because he’s always concerned at first.

He’s been on the defense since 1984. It’s practically in his nature, at this point. It takes him a second to realize you don’t actually need help — that you’re not in Hawkins anymore, and there’s no reason to look over his shoulder. 

His honey eyes go wide in realization a moment later. His pink mouth falls softly agape. “Oh. Like, need me, need me?”

You hum with a distant, tipsy smile.

“Need you, need you, need you,” you repeat thrice for effect.

Despite his similar desire that blooms like a flower in his chest, he urges, “Finish your drink first, ‘kay?”

Your pout returns. “Why?”

“‘Cause it was expensive as shit, and I don’t want it going to waste,” he explains with a chuckle.

You nod in return. “Yes, sir…”

Your mouth curls around the straw again. A smile quirks your lips as you watch the boy next to you squirm in his seat — your words having a rather obvious effect on him.

You swallow down the strawberry slush, now turning into a sour lemon, and blink away a brain freeze. 

“You okay over there, Stevie?” you tease.

He nods with jutted-out lips. “Mm-hmm. Yep. Perfect.”

—————

One Tropical Rainbow Paradise cocktail later, and Steve’s leading you to his cabana.

It’s more private than a normal one. Far more lavish, too. It’s like a tiny studio apartment — made of three walls and a thick curtain in place of a door. There’s a television hung below the ceiling, a small bed pushed up against the wood, and a clawfoot tub idling on the other side. 

You figure you’ll have ample time to ride Steve in the bath later. 

Your mouth waters for a taste of him now.

It’s why you fall to your knees no more than a second after you’ve latched the curtain shut.

Steve’s eyes go wide as he watches you. He nearly stumbles backward onto the mattress behind him because the very sight of you makes his legs buckle.

“Whoa, babe— Let me put a pillow under you first—”

“I don’t care about that,” you dismiss with the shake of your head. Your fingers curl around the hem of his trunks as you blink up at him. “Just take your clothes off.”

He nods, rapid and visibly enthusiastic. 

You don’t pull his shorts all the way down, just enough to free his half-hard cock. You slip the band beneath his heavy balls and wrap his dick in your hand, wetting your palm with your tongue first to ease the friction. 

You work him slowly with your wrist and lick the pearly bead of precum from his flushed tip like it’s muscle memory to you. The rough pad of your tongue flicking over the most sensitive part of him drives him wild. A groan rumbles in his chest, muffled through his clenched jaw and teeth.

“Fuck— These trunks are really doing it for you, huh?” he teases after his fleeting senses return to him.

You blink up at him, only halfway amused. “Be careful, Stevie. I don't know if you noticed, but I have your dick in my hand.”

A crooked grin pulls at his pink lips. “Yeah… Go ahead and put your mouth on it, sweetheart,” he instructs lowly. “Maybe I’ll let you ride it after— shit.”

Your lips wrap fully around his reddening tip.

His breath catches in his throat when you lick over him like a lollipop. Your tongue dips over his drooling slit. The salty tang of him makes you moan under your breath.

Your lips abandon his cock soon after. You keep jerking him with your fist while you bring your mouth to his balls. You know he likes that best. He’s more sensitive there than most men are and spurned on by the sight of it even more so.

The sounds of your suckling and the vision of you nuzzling against his length has his orgasm creeping up his spine. 

Your mouth widens as your tongue trails up the thick vein at the underside of his cock, leading all the way to his flushed, bulbous tip.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Steve sighs, right before a whine spills from his throat. His palms are wide and warm as they settle over your temples, his fingers crawling into your hair. 

He doesn’t guide you at all — you know what he likes better than he does, really. He doesn’t pull you closer to him, either. He just holds you. He uses you like an anchor when his impending orgasm threatens to pull his head underwater.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he repeats, this time in a more firm groan. His cock jerks faintly in your mouth while he babbles. “Gonna make me come like this… So good for me, baby. Your pretty mouth is always so good for me. Just a little bit more…”

You know what he needs. He blinks, and suddenly his cock is stuffed down your throat. Both of you are barely breathing by then, equally spurned on by his rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Oh, shit, babe— fuck,” he whines, voice breaking when you swallow around him. He tilts his head to the ceiling and talks himself through his orgasm with gritted teeth. “Yeah. Gag on it— let me feel you, baby… Fuck, yes... 'S gonna make me come so hard. You’re gonna swallow it for me, yeah? Take everything I give you?”

With his cock stuffing your throat, you show him better than you can tell him. 

His cock spits several warm loads within your waiting throat. You swallow it all down without complaint — not because it tastes good exactly, but because you love having a mouthful of him.

His golden thighs tremble under your hands as your nails rake gently over his skin.

A blissful sigh trembles in his flushed chest when you pull back from him. Even though your jaw aches and your throat is sore, you find it in you to smile as you drag your finger over the dribbles of cum at the corner of your mouth. 

Steve swears he almost comes again when you lick the remnants of his pearly load off the pad of your thumb.

“What do ya say?” you find it in you to tease despite your current predicament. You’re still kneeling in front of him, blinking up at him with heavy watering eyes, saliva glistening on your chin. “Did I earn my seat, Stevie?”

Swallowing through a tight throat, he nods until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Definitely, yeah. Fuck.”

The bed creaks under his weight when he lies in the center of it. Now fully naked, his tanned skin contrasts heavily with the all-white sheets beneath him. His honey hair is wild as he leans against the fluffy pillows.

He beckons you to him with a wave of his hands.

“C’mere,” he tells you, pink tongue darting out to wet his swollen lips a second later.

You untie your bikini in record time. You rise on the mattress and swing your knee over his hip. Your glistening pussy rests just over his stomach, pretty enough to taste.

“Uh-uh,” Steve hums with the shake of his head, waving his hands again. “Come here.”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

“Closer,” he commands.

Still a bit confused, you shift further up his waist — only a few inches, though, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s asking of you. 

You don’t fully understand until his wide hands curl around the backs of your thighs. He urges you up his torso himself, forcing you to grip the headboard before you topple over completely. 

He shifts lower on the mattress until your knees are over his shoulders. His strong arms wrap around your thighs to pull you over his face, all but suffocating himself with your pussy.

His scruffy jaw scratches softly at your inner thighs — a stark contrast with the way his soft mouth suckles at your weeping cunt.

You’re practically gushing over his face the second his lips wrap around your clit.

[ashprompts]

𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

a collection of sentence starters from dropout tv's game changer. feel free to alter pronouns/text as you see fit

“I’ve been here THE WHOLE TIME”

“It’s hard to hold this much anger in my body.” 

“If you never hear from me again, you know what to do!.”

“If they don’t find me it’s because I was chopped up and fed to the pigs!”

“I SOLVED YOUR LABYRINTH, PUZZLEMASTER. THE MINOTAUR’S ESCAPED, AND YOU’RE GONNA GET THE HORNS, BUDDY”

“I. CANNOT. WIN!!!!”

“A lot of people have been saying that ___ is a singularly evil, wildly incompetent, befuddled nepo baby silver spoon motherfucker. This is what people are saying.” 

“If you can do ONE swing on the swing I will let you play with all the math puzzles that you want” 

“You’re not getting a FUCKING JOKE OUT OF ME until you let me out of this room! You want bits?! You let me out of this room for bits, motherfucker!”

“Are we gonna die before we get outta here?” 

“I’m gonna lose so fucking hard it’s gonna blow your fucking mind”

“But in this sick rodeo, this bizarre fucked up clown festival, we’re here celebrating what I can only describe as the sickness at the core of America.” 

“Give me the assignment and I don’t miss. I’m gonna DIE before this is over.”

“Your tower’s gonna fall. Laugh it up now.” 

“A river of sweat is running down my back right now.”

“I do hate zombies and I will have nightmares about this tonight. But in this moment I just feel like I’m surrounded by friends.” 

“We don’t give a cum.”

“If you’re in a hole, DYING. I WON’T BE THERE.”

“I showed them my feet, [name]! I SHOWED THEM MY FEET FOR NOTHING?”

“Stop shaking your cock in the middle of a fucking huddle, dude!”

“I’d fuck that pie.”

“If you’re like me, you eat a lot of ass.”

“I hate capitalism but I also hate losing.”

“I get my tongue so far up somebody it’s like I’m tasting their tonsils. I get so deep in there I’m gonna burn myself with stomach acid.”

“I like perching like a little bisexual gargoyle”

“If you were performing on a subway I would take money away from you.”

“I’VE ONLY JUST BEGUN TO PULL THE THREAD ON THIS SWEATER.”

“Icarus flying too close to the sun, but it seems Daedalus our little mastercrafter over here had some WAX WINGS OF HIS OWN, didn’t he? Wanted to see his son fall, faaaalll from the sky, OH HOW CLOSE TO THE SUN HE FLEW”

“Hey can I get an ah? … Don’t scream at me.” 

“You kinda have the vibe that your kids call you by your first name.”

“The day I DON’T curse when a body falls from the sky, call somebody.”

“Could I place an order? I’m hungie. What do you think would be the best pizza to order if I’m quite hungie? Um, I like cheese, what is your largest pizza? Yeah let’s get an extra large because I’m hungie. I’m hungie, I’m hungie, I’m hungie.” 

“WE ARE NOT ANIMALS!!!”

“So long as I am on this stage and drawing breath, you can good and goddamn believe I’ll be trying my best in every challenge.”

“Was it bad that we just started smashing shit?” 

“You didn't count on INGENUITY did you motherfucker?!”

“FIGHT THE BOURGEOISIE. I WILL VENMO YOU $20.” 

“This could be hell. This is very Satre-esque.”

“YOU ARE NOT GOD. THE MACHINE IS GOD.”

“Can you tell us why you’d do this to us?”

“I won’t be made a fool”

“I do feel like I’m in a nightmare”

“I’m the only one OUT of the loop it seems”

“Everybody do the wenis! The wenis is a dance! Everybody is a genius! Who knows it in advance!” 

"DANCE IS A SIN!"

"You think I'm gonna fucking roll over?!"

"It'll be a COLD DAY IN HELL when I go out like a fucking chump!"

"I don't care about winning, I just don't wanna lose"

[starboybutler]

don't count on it

summary: buck can't sleep. bucky helps him out.

word count: 2675

warnings: period typical homophobia and homophobic attitudes, handjobs, brief objectification of women, brief talks of war, guys being dudes

notes: i began writing this before i watched mota yesterday so forgive me if anything seems out of character. this came to me in a dream at three am and i've been thinking about it since. this is also inspired by @precious-little-scoundrel so thank you for your lovely blog marina. i hope everyone enjoys!

his entire body radiated with a dull ache deep in his joints. as soon as his back hit the bed, his eyes drooped as if he’d fall asleep right then and there. and yet, he laid there, staring at the dull gray ceiling.

he always did this. he yearned to sleep, but as soon as the time to lay down came, he couldn't fall into a sound slumber. too many thoughts racing in his head, too much aching in his body– too much noise all around him. the hum of the rickety air conditioning, the faint mutters and laughs of his bunkmates as they brushed their teeth and got dressed for bed, his own breathing reverberating in his ears. it all was so mundane, but too overwhelming.

he shut his eyes, hoping sleep would just come to him. he tried to ignore it all– the sounds, the thoughts…but nothing. he was still awake.

the bed dipped next to him, and he didn’t even have to open his eyes to see who it was.

“finally outta the shower?” buck asked, hands tucked behind his head as he waited for a response. “you take forever in there. you're like a woman.”

“yeah yeah,” bucky dismissed, shoving buck playfully as he set his belongings down. “and you didn’t shower long at all. dunno how ya got anything clean in that time.”

“i’m very clean.” gale huffed, cracking one eye open. “i just don’t like showering with other people. i like my alone time.”

“uh huh. you just wanna be able to rub one out in there.”

gale sat up and shoved him, laughing in surprise at his friend's brazen words. it was always like this. bucky, being brazen and outgoing, all while buck watched from the sidelines. he liked it that way. he always felt a weird joy when bucky would tell random stories of reckless things he did in the past, or when he insisted on singing after a few drinks at the bar. he’d always say that he was a prude when he resisted his drunken tugging of his arm, trying to urge him on stage with him. buck never took it personally though– mainly because bucky was right. compared to most of the men he’d been around he was prude. he didn’t gamble, drink– hell, he didn't even have one night stands. many of the guys got drunk and went home with the first broad they saw, but buck didn’t feel anything towards the women who would brazenly grip at his arms and called him a stud. sure, he’s made out with a few of them– and almost made a mess of his uniform– but he never took them back to base. he didn't want to lose his purity like that. sure, he’d done plenty of heavy petting and dry humping, but he’s never went all the way with a girl before. it just didn't happen.

he got teased about it, sure, but he stuck by his guns. he didn't see the big deal in rushing to stick your cock into some random woman and then brag about it the next day. it all seemed very shallow to him. he was always told that sex is special– between two people with a strong, loving bond. and he held that close to his heart. he actually was planning to save himself for marriage– but when you're a hormonal teen…its a little hard to fight those primal feelings.

“oh please, i haven't done that since i got here.” buck said earnestly, laying back down and stretching out. “honestly, i haven't done that in almost a year.”

bucky laughed. “no way. i always joked about you bein’ a prude, y’know, but this is a little far.” he cracked. “where ya too busy? or are you actually that green?”

“i’m not green,” buck grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “i jus’-- goddamn, i dunno. i wanna save myself, y’know. i try not to do it too often.”

“good god man, you didn't even go for it before you were here? you’re crazy.” egan snorted. “now you’re stuck ‘round all these guys.”

buck just shrugged, laying back down and sighing heavily. “oh well. what can ya do?”

it was quiet, for a moment. buck could feel that bucky was was there, but he was silent– like he was contemplating. buck opened one eye and gazed at him, confused at the way his lips were twitching.

“you…you really aren’t gonna…indulge in any ladies out here?” bucky said, softly, like he was ashamed of asking. “you’re gonna lose it, man. it’s only been a week and i already feel all pent up.”

buck felt his face heat up slightly at the implication that his friend was horny. he bit his lip, dragging his eyes away from his black-haired friend as he let those words soak in. “really?”

“yeah. i– it’s been a while for me too, actually. i didn't really think about how it’d only be us guys out here. shoulda got something before i came out here.”

despite buck’s stance on remaining celibate until his marriage, he strangely understood the other man. even though he hardly engaged in such things, he felt the tension in every room he walked in. everyone seemed taut, like a bowstring– waiting to snap. whenever they’d spar, workout, or shower, the air would be thick enough to cut with a knife. it was an unspoken thing– but everyone felt it. no one wanted to talk about it, because…well, what would that make them? they don't allow fairies in the force, that’s for sure. something so scandalous couldn't even be thought about, unless you wanted a good beat down by every other troop in sight.

“i dunno. i think the last time i did it left me satisfied for a while,” he lied, not wanting to admit that he had the same fire simmering, albeit dimly, in his belly. he never felt like this, so what the hell was his deal?

“bullshit,” bucky swore. “no way your fist leaves you satisfied for years to come. you need a woman, buck. one that’ll rock your world.”

“you know i’m savin’ myself.” buck hummed. “besides, hookin’ up with some random woman doesn't sound appealing.”

“you’re wrong, man.” bucky sighed, laying down next to buck and resting his head on his hands. “it’s magical. raw. primal. makes you feel like a real man.” he grunted, inhaling deeply. “hooked up with this one chick– god, she was gorgeous. eager to go down on me– and she gripped ‘round me so damn tight i thought she cut off my circulation. kept bouncin’ on me and talking about how big i was. goddamn.”

buck’s cheeks flushed at the words leaving his friends mouth. the way he spoke about the woman like she was a pastime or a hobby and not a person was surprising. he could see it, though, clear in his minds eye– a young lady, moaning and panting, bouncing eagerly on bucky’s thick cock, bucky panting and calling her a good girl–

he paused. why was he thinking about bucky so much? and why did it make his face flush even more?

“issat right,” buck mumbled, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach from his lewd imagination.

“uh huh. god– i dream about her all the damn time. what i’d give to be buried in her now.”

silence again. only this time, it felt more tense than the last. the vision that buck had– bucky’s cock, his breathless voice, his flushed face. it made him all hot, like no other girl had before. it scared him.

“you ever been with a girl? obviously not all the way– but at all?”

“of course i have.” buck said defensively. “i– i just…it was high school, maybe. real nice girl, real pretty. she came over to study, and we ended up making out. i was still kinda new to the whole….sex thing, so i told her no when she tried to go all the way. we did end up uh…. rubbin’ on each other though. felt nice.”

“and this was high school?” bucky asked. “and you haven’t been with a girl since?”

buck shook his head. bucky stared at him for a moment, something unreadable flashing in his eyes as he gazed at the blonde. “damn. no wonder you're so damn tense all the time.”

“i’m not tense.”

“you are. you’re always quiet– thinkin’. you never let loose. i bet if you got a handy you’d be as rowdy as the rest of us.”

“quit bein’ dirty.” buck tsked, smacking bucky’s chest lightly. “i don’t need a handy. i need some goddamn sleep.”

“i’m tellin’ ya man. you need to get laid.”

“i’ll smack ya if you say somethin’ pervy again.” buck promised, making bucky snicker softly.

it was quiet again. buck closed his eyes, but he felt as restless as earlier. moreso, even. he kept thinking about bucky’s last hookup, the way he described her, how tight she was. was she really tight? or was bucky just that big, like the girl said?

and there his mind went again. thinking about bucky. that wasn't normal. he needed to stop thinking about bucky and think about girls. like the girl he frotted with in his childhood bed- whatever her name was. the way she grabbed onto him, panted into his neck, shivering and shaking something awful as she came undone all over his slacks. he remembered being shocked at the gush, his cock still unbelievably hard down his thigh after two orgasms. he remembered how bad it hurt, being hard for so long. he wondered if being in a girl was better. he wondered if bucky’s cock stayed hard after he came inside that girl. no– stop. don’t think about the man right next to you. why did he keep–

“you’re breathin’ funny.” bucky observed.

“no i’m not.” buck argued, flustered at how his friend picked up on his heavier breathing. he prayed that he didn't look down and see his dick tenting in his sweats.

he must've. no. he did. his eyes trailed down the lean length of buck’s torso, landing on the large bulge under the fabric of his sweats.

“see what i mean?” bucky breathed, his voice lower in tone than normal. “you're so tense, buck,” he muttered, his hand moving from behind his head. “always so damn tense.”

buck swallowed hard as he felt bucky’s hand rest on his thigh, slowly inching upwards towards his aching cock. his breath stuttered, his face red-hot– but he didn't make a move to stop him. not at all.

bucky’s hand slid into his loose sweats, past the blonde curls, and gently grasped at his cock. buck inhaled sharply, his hand moving to grab bucky’s wrist in a moment of panic. bucky halted, looking up at buck tentatively.

oh, god.

“don't think,” bucky muttered, giving buck a soft squeeze. “jus’ lemme help, yeah? lemme get rid of that tension.”

buck let go slowly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. bucky’s hand gave him a curious squeeze, making buck grunt and rock his hips up into his grasp. slowly, hesitantly, bucky started to move his hand up and down his throbbing shaft.

“oh, god,” buck swore, his face flushed dark red as he felt his stomach clenching with each milking tug of bucky’s hand. he felt himself, dripping with precum all over his friends hand like a girl. he hardly began touching him, and he was already….

“close,” buck warned, his voice breathy and embarrassed as he started to pant softly. “oh, jesus–”

“no,” bucky grunted, pulling his hand away abruptly, much to buck’s dismay. before the blonde could even complain, bucky was straddling him and staring holes into his pretty blue eyes. “wanna see you.”

buck swore his face was radiating light at this point, and bucky’s gaze wasn't helping one bit. it was so hot and intensely desirous that buck thought he was going to get eaten alive.

bucky grasped the blonde’s cock again, giving it small, rhythmic squeezes as he stared into buck’s eyes, taking in how they were welling up with tears– and how his flushed face was beading with sweat. it was so different, so absolutely wildy hot that buck, ever stoic, was falling apart below him.

buck had never had someone look at him so hotly before– not even that girl back then. it was making him nervous, but also hot and needy. the thought that his friend wanted him carnally set a fire in his stomach and his heart.

he began pumping him slowly, twisting his wrist and squeezing, all with an expertise that shocked him a little. he could still hear the buzzing of the ac and the quiet conversations of the other troops as his mouth fell open, head falling into the plush pillows behind him.

bucky’s breathing was growing heavier. he could feel the other man’s heat as he used his thumb to swipe at his leaking slit, his breath catching as buck gasped beneath him. the blonde swore he felt a certain hardness poking at his thigh, but he didn't care at all right now. he needed to cum. he needed bucky to make him cum.

��say my name.” bucky demanded, his face flushed as he began jerking buck’s cock faster. “need to hear ya say my name when you cum.”

“bucky–”

“nah. louder.” he demanded, his own breath speeding up and becoming ragged as he stroked buck faster. “scream it. yell it. make sure all our boys know.”

“fuck–” buck whimpered, his cool, stoic demeanor completely gone as he bucked his hips up into his friends fist, moaning like a cheap whore. “b-bucky!”

“that’s it. fuck– no one can make you feel like this–” he panted, speeding up his ministrations. “can they, buck? i’m the only one. don’t– ngh- ever let me catch ya with anyone else. i’ll kill ‘em.”

“bucky,” buck whimpered, his stomach clenching one final time as his orgasm washed over him, a fire like he hadn't experienced in forever. his cock shot thickly over the front of bucky’s shirt, making the other man groan and bite his lip as his friend came apart. the way bucky was straddling him, stroking him through his orgasm, the faint sounds of his friends voices through the thin wall– oh, fuck.

he dissolved into pathetic little tremors and whines as he came down, his cock bubbling weakly at the tip. bucky was panting hard, his face red and eyes hungry as he gazed at the blonde. suddenly, buck was sure that there was a hardness prodding at him.

silence.

“you–” buck panted, reaching out to grasp bucky’s erection, only to be stopped. “wha–”

“don’t worry about me.” he mumbled. “fuck, everyone’s gonna be here soon. jus’--” he stuttered, clambering off of buck awkwardly, tucking him back into his sweats. “get some sleep, buck.”

buck was too tired to try and chase after him as he scrambled away. his body felt heavy as he closed his eyes, finally succumbing to sleep.

when he awoke, he went straight to the breakfast hall. he felt like last night was some fever dream he had cooked up in his fucked up mind.

he sat at a table near the window, graciously taking the coffee he was given. only a few minutes later, the chair in front of him had been filled by his friend.

it was dead silent. then, bucky finally spoke, his voice calm and steadier than buck expected.

“sleep good last night?”

buck’s face flushed slightly, but he nodded, his eyes not leaving his plate.

“good.” bucky hummed, leaning back in his chair. “got a mission. you right and ready to fly?”

“you know it.”

“that’s my boy.” bucky smiled, and buck hated that he got butterflies in his stomach from it. “i’ll see ya in the air. don’t fall asleep in the seat, y’hear me?”

buck smiled, taking a sip from his bittersweet coffee. “don’t count on it.”

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove @lillypink

[medlarmeadows]

Life’s too short not to rizz up the beautiful stranger in the club

Charlie Slimecicle x fem!reader

Synopsis: Charlie rizzes you up in a club (respectfully).

Warning(s): drinking alcoholic beverages, clubbing (no grinding! Leave space for Jesus, kids), swearing.

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Just a little fic inspired by Charlie’s new clubbing arc (he posted going to the club once). Also, I’ve only ever been to the club once and have never interacted with anybody outside my group of friends there so if this is super inaccurate, I am sorry.

masterlist here!

The bass boosted music shook the room as Charlie danced amongst his friends. Sweaty bodies pressed against each other; drinks were passed around. The club seemed to be mostly filled with jovial college students who had just finished their final exams for the semester, giving rise to an even more chaotic atmosphere than normal.

The swivelling and ever-changing coloured lights barely lit the club up, and yet he saw you so clearly. He swore you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He struggled to tear his gaze from you so as to not stare for too long, especially when he almost locked eyes with you.

But goddamn, you were gorgeous.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw you leave the dance floor and head towards the bar, presumably to get a drink. All it took was a few encouraging words (and well-meaning teases) for him to muster up the courage to approach you.

“Hey.”

You turned your gaze towards Charlie, and his breath caught in his lungs.

“Hey,” you replied.

Charlie felt heat rise up to his cheeks, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just from the heat of the club.

“I, uhm,” damnit Charlie you can do this “You’re really beautiful, and I was wondering if I could buy you a drink if that’s okay? I’m Charlie, by the way.”

Your lips parted, almost as if you were surprised, before it turned into a coy smile.

“I’m Y/N, and you’re really beautiful too.”

Error 404 not found in Charlie’s brain.

Charlie stuttered for a moment, messing with his already messed up hair to take a moment to recalibrate. In that moment, he summoned every past experience he had flirting with his friends during DnD sessions.

“So,” he tilted his head at you. “What drink would the pretty lady like?”

Pink spread across your cheeks, and he would have mistaken it as a trick of the light if you hadn’t stuttered out:

“Whiskey, uhm, whiskey coke would be great.”

Charlie shot you a smirk before turning to the bartender to place your orders. The two of you stood in relative silence, bar the club music, as the drinks were prepared. Once the drinks were served, you immediately took a sip.

“God, I needed some of that liquid courage,” you admitted, cheeks still pink.

“So do I,” Charlie said, taking a sip of his. “God, do you know how much courage it took for me to approach someone as beautiful as you.”

“What?”

Your cheeks seemed to get even redder, and you took a larger sip from your drink.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at you.

“What, you don’t believe me? Look at you, at your outfit – ”

“I believe you about that, I know I’m gorgeous,” you joked, twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers. “I meant about the courage part.”

“I’m surprised you couldn’t tell based on how I was tripping over my words trying to offer you a drink.”

For some reason, that cracked you up, causing you to throw your head back as your laughed. In that moment, you didn’t seem to care how you looked in front of Charlie, and in that moment, he thought you were the most beautiful human alive.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. “I think – I think it’s hard for me to see that you’re nervous when I was internally battling my own nerves.”

At that, Charlie’s jaw dropped.

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“No,” he exaggerated.

You snorted.

“Do you know how long I had been working up the courage to come talk to you? I literally left the dance floor to get a drink in order to hype myself up to approach you. You just beat me to the punch.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, have you seen yourself?” Your eyes unashamedly checked him out as you gestured at his clothes. “You’re gorgeous. If I wasn’t so down bad for you, I would be jealous of your fit.”

Charlie hid his burning cheeks behind another sip of his drink.

“Now, what gentleman would I be if I let the lovely lady dish out all the compliments? We could trade all night long, or – ” He extended a hand towards you. “You could join me on the dance floor.”

You took a second to consider him, before you knocked back the remainder of your drink.

“I just met you, but fuck it, let’s go.”

You put your hand in his. A spark of mischief lit up Charlie’s eyes as he intertwined your fingers together, chuckling when your expression turned flustered.

“But none of that grinding shit, alright?” you said. “We’re technically still strangers.”

“Of course, my lady,” Charlie said, a spark in his eyes. “We’ll be super classy and refined.”

-

The two of you ended up on the dance floor busting your asses like no one else. Classy was the random macarena dance break, and refined was the failed ballroom dip Charlie attempted that almost caused you to fall onto the dirty club floor.

When you had been with your friends (who had teased your obvious immediate crush on Charlie), psyching yourself to talk to him, you didn’t think you would end up laughing your way through the night.

Of course, that didn’t stop the butterflies. The initial adrenaline from the alcohol faded eventually, and every brief contact with Charlie sent butterflies to your stomach.

You don’t know how he didn’t sense your obvious fluster when you so acutely felt your cheeks aflame. You don’t know how he didn’t realise how infatuated you were with him when he briefly held you close to his chest and you swore your heart was thumping louder than the music.

You spent the rest of the night dancing with Charlie, your cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling and laughing. At some point, your friends came over to bid you goodbye, insisting that you text them when you reached home and threatening Charlie with his life if they didn’t hear back from you. Subsequently, Charlie’s friends also left, and before you knew it, the club was closing.

“That was so much fun,” Charlie said, his breathing slightly laboured from the strenuous Rasputin routine he had done.

You were also panting, but from being doubled over laughing at him.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wiping away a tear that had escaped your eye, no doubt smudging your eyeliner. “I can’t believe the night is over, I really enjoyed dancing with you.”

You catch a glimpse of something in Charlie’s eye, before one of his hands barely cupped your jaw.

“May I?” he asked, the other hand reaching towards your eye, no doubt to correct your eyeliner.

Your breath caught in your lungs, brain stuttering at the closeness and intimacy of the gesture.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

His thumb brushed under your eye gently, smoothing over your skin and hopefully wiping away any smudge you had caused. You felt your cheeks warm with nervousness you hadn’t felt since Charlie approached you at the bar, and you bit your lip to try to hide it.

Charlie’s eyes darted to your lips, lingering for a second before he backed away quickly.

“Sorry,” he apologised, and you immediately missed the sensation of his hands on your face. “I hope I wasn’t crossing any boundaries – ”

“You weren’t,” you reply too fast, almost choking over your words.

Clearing your throat, you tried again, but Charlie beat you to it:

“I really enjoyed tonight with you.” He messed with his hair for the hundredth time. “And I was hoping if I could see you again?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, mind travelling a million miles an hour as you considered the fact that Charlie – handsome, beautiful, funny, Charlie – wanted to see you again after tonight. And all your mouth could produce was:

“Sure.”

Immediately, his eyes lit up.

“Could I have your number?” he asked, fumbling with his pockets for his phone.

“Yea – yeah, sure,” you repeated yourself, cringing inwardly.

He passed you his phone, and you shakily type in your number. After passing it back to him, Charlie typed a few things. Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

unknown, 5.38am: it’s me, Charlie :)

Grinning, you sent back a reply:

y/n, 5.39am: hey there, stranger

Charlie snorted, before pocketing his phone.

“I’m not kidding, by the way,” his gaze turned sincere, one hand reaching to hold yours when you let him. “Tonight was so much fun, and I really like you. I mean that beyond your amazing beauty – and you are so, so gorgeous – ” You flushed again. “ – and your questionable ability to do a floss – ” You smacked his shoulder with your free hand. “ – you’re an amazing person, and I would love to get to know you for real.”

You took a moment to collect yourself, barely holding yourself together as you gazed into Charlie’s soft, sincere eyes.

“I would love to get to know you for real, too,” you replied. Calling back to an earlier action of his, you took initiative to intertwine your hands together.

In a sudden rush of boldness, you stood on your toes and delivered a quick peck to Charlie’s cheek. When you withdrew, you were pleased to see you had managed to fluster the man as much as you were currently feeling.

“Okay, okay,” he stuttered, before taking in a deep breath to compose himself as you giggled. “I, uhm, I guess I’ll see you another time?”

“Of course, just drop me a text, stranger."

When you finally made it back to your flat, the sun was just barely starting to rise. You let your friends know you were back home safely before dropping Charlie a text:

y/n, 6.35am: heyy, I made it back alive :)

charlie, 6.36am: so did I! have a good rest :)

y/n, 6.36am: you too :D

-

charlie, 3.15pm: are you free Saturday for coffee? my treat

y/n, 3.16pm: only if you let me buy you ice cream after

Charlie, 3.17pm: sounds like a plan, stranger ;)

[sunnyfucks]

most of the time sunoo is receiving, what if hes the one giving now???

a/n : down bad for dom sunoo so... thx bloei <3

“ BITCH, YOU LIKE IT! ” hard dom sunoo x fem reader. (ft enhypen hyung line!)

cw : SMUT with a little touch of angst hehe, them being tipsy, enemies to enemies lmao, lots of degrading stuff, slapping, pulling of hair, choking, jealousy, face fucking, a lot of cursing and f words. sunoo and reader both feeling frustrated towards each other. use of y/n.

“come on, jay! just one kiss!” everyone cheered as heeseung hypes the younger. “it wouldn’t hurt to place a kiss on sunghoon’s cheeks!” jake teased once more. jay faked a puke as he face his friend, sunghoon. “what the fuck bro, don’t you know how lucky you are right at this moment? girls and guys would kill to be on your position right now” sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully, boosting his own ego. “hurry up, jay! you’re taking so much time” someone on the side shouted. “okay okay! goddamn you all want to watch me kiss sunghoon that bad?! its even only on his cheeks!”

“damn, just do it” you said and you heard sunoo hissed. you side-eyed him and saw that he’s not looking at you but he has his jaw clenched. jay’s mouth hanged open, “even you y/n? god, i thought we’re like this” jay acted hurt and held his chest as he clink both his pinky fingers. “well, ofcourse we are but you’re taking so much time, jongseong” everyone laughed and cheered with your words. “y/n’s right. just kiss me so we can move forward!” sunghoon chuckles, obviously liking the fact that his friend is acting all shy. “aw, is the baby jjongsaeng pouting? what if i give you a kiss instead? aww come here baby~” sunghoon coo. jay made a face of disgust and held his mouth. “not the baby talk! its making everything much worst!”

bothered by everyone’s loud coos and teasing, jay clenched his fist and sighed. he stood up and went towards sunghoon. you on the other hand, watches as the scene infront of you unfold. sunghoon closed his eyes and pouted as if waiting for jay’s kiss to land on his lips, everyone laughed at this, but that’s just how sunghoon towards jay. he likes teasing him despite jay being older by months. “can i ask a question first?” jay suddenly said, gaining everyone’s attention. heeseung chuckles as he nods. “this is too much for me! so can i kiss y/n after i kiss sunghoon?”

your eyes widen as your ears were then bombered with everyone shouting and cheering. “all this time you’re into y/n? im so hurt!” sunghoon joked. you met jay’s eyes as he gives you a subtle smirk. “her lips just looks so tasty right now i can’t help myself” everyone gasped with how bold he’s being, you being one of them. “what do you say about that, y/n?” jake asked. you met jay’s eyes once again. “come on, y/n! make it quick!” said by someone on the room. you’ve always found jay attractive and hot, so ofcourse... “sure jay, hurry it up with sunghoon” you’d agree.

“what a bitch” sunoo muttered. everyone heard this and turned their heads towards the blond. “say it to my face, fucker” you muttered back. sunoo scoffed and clicked his tongue. “getting enough courage cause everyone’s here? you’re not only a bitch, but also an attention seeker. wow, you’re amazing” this time, its your turn to scoff. “being such a dick cause everyone’s here? wow, you’re really sick in the head. get it checked” jake being the intoxicated pretty boy that he is, laughed and placed his arm around sunoo’s shoulder. “yo yo yo, what the fuck suddenly happened between you too?”

heeseung patted jake’s shoulder as he shakes his head, giving him a signal to not interfere and leave you and sunoo alone. “why not get your pussy checked instead? you might be having a problem down there with how many guys you’ve fucked with” with this, your eyebrows furrowed and you can’t handle it anymore so you stood and faced sunoo who’s looking everywhere but you. “what did you just say? for your fucking information i don’t fucking fuck with strangers or with everyone. go get your dick checked instead cause that might be too damn small to even please your bitches” you’re fuming mad. he can’t be doing this here. you clenched your fist as everyone went into a 360 with how quiet they suddenly all went.

you don’t know when or where did it started. you don’t exactly know why the oh so pretty boy everyone adores feels so much rage whenever he’d see you. you don’t know what got into him. you don’t know why he thinks you’re a bitch, so what can you do about it? ofcourse.. hate him back. you feel sad about it.. cause despite him being this mean to you, you’ve seen how much he takes care of others. you’ve seen how warm of a sunlight he is towards everyone so why can’t he be to you too? its not like it would cost him a lot to stop being mean. “i hate you so much, sunoo” you mumble, ready to leave the room. “what the fuck did you just say?” sunoo stood up and held your arm. you turned to him and raised a brow. “get your fucking hands off of me” you said. sunoo scoffed again and bit his lower lip. “repeat what you said. i fucking dare you, y/n”

“fuck you and your small dick”

you don’t know what happened, but as soon as those words left your mouth, sunoo gathered all his strength as he gets and place you on his shoulder. “any vacant room?” he asks and heeseung, the owner of the house, nodded. “walk straight and you’d find one” the younger sighed and turned around, holding your legs tight. “what the fuck? you better put me down kim sunoo!” you slight-shouted as you wiggle your feet, slightly punching him on his back. “shut the fuck up, y/n. you better save up your strength. don’t think im letting you go that fast tonight.”

listen to this to add more feels !

you winced in pain the moment he threw you on the bed. it was soft, but the way he threw you hurted no matter how wiggly the mattress is. “go, fucking repeat what you said” he challenge. you faked a chuckle as your fingers brush your now messy hair back. “what? that i fucking hate you?” you fight back. he scoffed and brushed his locks. its amazing how good he looks right now, but you wouldn’t admit that to anyone. “you make me sick” you exhaled as you fake a laugh. “no sunoo, YOU make ME sick”

the gasp you let out when sunoo held your hair and pulled it is unbelievable, you almost moaned in pleasure. “come on, say it again” he challenge once again. he reek of alcohol and the pain of him pulling your hair is amazingly not subsiding. “what? cat got your tongue? you’re such a bitch earlier. what happened to that?”

you won’t admit it, but the way he’s basically manhadling you now is hot. its obvious he’s not on his right state of mind, but so are you and you’re afraid both of your frustrations would lead to something else. considering the fact that deep down, no matter how much you hate all his guts, there’s this sting cause you’re still hoping to befriend him. “you are fucking annoying, kim” you managed to say. sunoo shrugged as he lean forward near your ears. “really? then why do you fucking look like you’re enjoying this way too much?”

another gasp left your mouth when he aggressively wrapped his fingers around your neck. it wasn’t tight, but its enough to make you gasping for air. “its amazing how i can feel too much of my emotions just by looking at your face” he hissed at his own statement. he hates you. he hates how everytime you’d show up, he’d feel too much of his emotions. he hates how everyone caught your attention but not him. he hates how everytime you walk, your hair sways to the wind while everyone is in awe with its smell. he hates how you can be standing but still look the most stunning person he’s ever seen. he hates the fact that you’re not his. “you’re damn annoying” he says, contrary to whatever emotions he’s feeling.

sunoo never dated anyone. he doesn’t know what love is. he doesn’t know how falling inlove feels like. so whenever he sees you and he’s suddenly feeling too overwhelmed, he hates it. “i said it earlier and im going to say it again, fuck you sunoo” with this, you felt sunoo’s hand tighten around your neck. you wanted to cough, but the moment you opened your mouth and sunoo’s lips was suddenly attached to it, you were left dumbfounded.

the kiss was aggressive and sloppy. the tight grip sunoo has on your neck loosens as he slowly slid his fingers at the back of your head. he then guided you slowly down the bed and as he tops you, you felt his tongue asking permission to enter your mouth. when sunoo realized that you’re not letting him in, he aggressively pulled your shirt up as his hand finds it way to your boobs, pinching your bud hardly. your mouth hanged open and sunoo took it as an opportunity to let his tongue in you. “i fucking hate you, kim sunoo”

“likewise”

sunoo then held your thigh and suddenly turned you around. “ass up” he commands as his hands trail on your legs. “and fucking face down” he says as he climbs on top of the bed, aggressively pushing your head down the bed. “don’t try to act like you don’t like what im doing, y/n. we both know how wet you are right at this moment” you only sighed in response. he’s right. you’re wet and you’re fucking frustrated and annoyed by the fact.

you kept your head down while wondering what’s happening back there. you could only hear sunoo shuffling his things and his belt being unbuckled. after some time, you felt sunoo’s fingers teasingly dancing along the hem of your skirt. “pretty but annoying” he says, being pulling it in one down. he then placed his index finger on your clit, creating circles on it.

sunoo smirked as he felt the stickiness on your undergarment, you are indeed wet and he felt another sense of satisfaction with this. “see? bitch, you like it” you could only humm as you bury your face into the pillow you’ve started holding since you felt his finger on your entrance. “f- fuck you” sunoo chuckled, “fuck you as well, y/n.” he bites back, being pulling your underwear down, revealing your throbbing core. “look at you. you’re a fucking mess down here”

sunoo wasted no time. he’s feeling so annoyed to the point he really doesn’t care anymore whether you’d get hurt or not. all he wants is fuck you and let all his frustrations out. so he did what he had to. he slides his dick in, without prepping you or making you ready. you on the other hand, swore you’d make your lips bleed anytime soon. sunoo is thrusting his hips ruthlessly, like there’s no tomorrow.. and even if you’re indeed enjoying it, you can’t ignore the fact that what he’s doing hurts. not that you mind...

moans of both pleasure and pain enveloped the vacant room sunoo brought you in. you can hear how much the bed is squeaking and honestly, you don’t care anymore whether someone would hear the noises or not. sunoo is fucking you rough and that’s all you can think about. “you’re making me so fucking frustrated” he said between moans, and suprisingly, his hands finds itself to your hair again, pulling it more roughly than earlier.

it added a lot of pleasure, and this resulted to you moaning more loud and beautiful. it ringed through sunoo’s ear, and he hoped he could make you sing his name forever. it captivated him and he’s not in anyway regretful of how things turned to now. “you could say whatever you want a-and i’d say the same thing. only seeing y-your face makes my blood boil” sunoo laughed at what you said, he can’t believe how you’re still saying how much you hates him while moaning his name like there’s no tomorrow awaiting you. “fucking unbelievable”

sunoo stopped thrusting his hips, and so you thought he’d be done by now, but no, not when he suddenly turned you around to face him. not when he suddenly climbed on top of you. not when he suddenly slapped your face and continued fucking you roughly as his hand snakes on your neck. “how much do you hate me? i want you to say it while looking directly on my eyes” he challenge. you wish you could slap him. he smirked, making his fox-like eyes look half-lidded and droppy. “go say it, y/n. what happened to you saying it infront of the boys? come on, say it. i want to hear you saying it while im here fucking you” the smirk on his face irritates you so bad. but you can’t help but melt on his touch. “i- i hate you so much, s-sunoo”

he smirks, “really? fucking liar” he says, before bucking his hips aggressively. you then felt tears prickling the side of your eyes. sunoo continued to moan above you, watching every lewd expressions you’re giving. he wants to tell you a lot of things. he wants to say how much you’re enticing him, how much you’re looking all so pretty beneath him, how much your moans sends him to all the right places, he wants to say it all but he can’t and he wouldn’t.

sunoo then exhaled as he felt your hold tightening on his arm, you’re clenching around him so bad its making it harder for him to move fast, but he felt his own high coming and this made him grip your neck tighter than ever. “open your mouth, hurry”

you were dumbfounded once again, he’s moving so fast, rough, and quick. one thing he’s on your entrance fucking the hell out of it but now he has his dick all stuffed in your mouth. sunoo knows he wasn’t able to give you proper time to catch air before he did all this, but he can’t handle things any longer. so he cupped your face and aggressively bucked his hips forward.

you could only hold the sheets tight. you’re running out of breath and your chest hurts. you know you’re intoxicated but the deed is making you feel more dizzy. “fuck, im so close” you hear him moaning. you then decided to watch sunoo’s expressions. he was a moaning mess, his cheeks are redened, and his hair is all sticky against his forehead. “swallow everything and don’t leave any” he commands for the last time, before letting all his seeds out.

after making sure that there’s no more of his seeds left, sunoo plopped down the bed beside you, both of you catching for your breaths. neither of you started a talk. neither of you wants to talk about what happened. and so, you watched as sunoo stands up while getting his things. he then wore his fit one by one and when he’s all done, he brushed his hair before looking at you.

it wasn’t the gaze he usually has everytime he’d call you a bitch. it wasn’t the gaze he always have everytime you’d walk pass by. it was sad, it was down, it was broken. you waited for him to talk, and god knows how much you wished you didn’t.

“i hate you, y/n. always will.” he says and he turned back. his walk towards the door is heavy. cause he knows damn well he don’t. but what can he do? he knows how much you overwhelm and affect him and he wouldn’t like to be one day broke by that. he would never wish. he would never have the courage to be broken by someone like you. thus for him, its better this way.

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー。

i just realized there’s not much of sunoo “giving” in here. i was so swayed, im sorry loooool. </3 hope you guys would like this still tho.

© sunny fucks, 2022. not proofread.

[mariasabanahabanabana]

Were f*cked

Pairing: Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos x Ellie William x reader

Joel Miller x Dughther!reader

Sumarry: in an oversight on both sides, both you (Y/N) and Ellie get arrested, so a not-so-happy Joel has to go pick them up…

A/N: First, it wasn't until just a few months ago that I became interested in the plot of TLOU, so I'm sorry if there are inconsistencies. And secondly, my first language isn't English, so, you know it…

Since you and Ellie met you had become inseparable, maybe not at first due to Ellie's abrupt manner and sarcasm towards your father, Joel, but as the days went by.

The bond that existed between you was not only because you shared a similar pain of the goddamn apocalypse, but also because of your fear of loneliness and of course the duty that Joel had to do.

That's why since that day when Marlene introduced them all to each other, the two of them started to become an inseparable duo, but mostly chaotic for Joel's little patience and age. Although deep down, Joel was happy to finally see you finally spending time with someone close to your own age.

Anyway, time went by and what started as a nice friendship ended in something more intimate, a relationship, a couple that only made the two of you less inseparable, if that was even possible.

Although both of you used to have your nuances, the roles in your teenage romance were set, with you being the conscious and cautious part while Ellie's was somehow unconscious and impulsive, however, that didn't exempt you from getting into trouble, just like now.

Both knew the rules, both knew they had to be home by 6:00, in fact there were signs on every possible surface of the streets indicating the time limit for leaving the house. So, if they knew that, what got them arrested? Simple, Ellie wanted to spend more time with you before your night shift.

Until a few moments ago, you had a watch with you, which was confiscated by the FEDRA guards, so you couldn't know how long you had been locked up and sitting on the cold, dirty floor of the cell.

Ellie: "Damn, I'm fucking freezing to death…." Ellie said as she hugged herself and rubbed her arms with her hands in the hope that it would give her some warmth.

(Y/N): "Here, take my jacket…" you placed your father's warm, thick, heavy jacket that you now used to wear on her shoulders.

When the two were together it was impossible to shut the two of 'em up, which on more than one occasion led Joel to curse both inwardly and outwardly, so the silences that now intervened were a sign that you were really too scared to even tell, hear, or laugh at one of Ellie's many lame-but-good jokes.

Ellie: "So what's next?"

(Y/N): "we can only await… "

Ellie: "To who? or what?"

By not answering her question and averting your gaze from hers, Ellie assumed the worst.

Ellie: "(Y/N)? To whom or what?" Ellie, seeing you still not answering or looking at her knew immediately what was going on. "You called Joel, didn't you?

(Y/N): "Are you serious? I haven't lived that long to die at dad's hands."

Ellie: " Good, for a moment I thought that you…"

(Y/N): Without letting her finish, you spoke abruptly, "i Call Tess…"

Ellie: facepalm

(Y/N): Sorry

Ellie: No, don't worry … Sooner or later he'd find out, besides, he's your father and well, there wasn't much choice in who to call.

...

(Y/N): "We're fucked” whether it was the fear of Joel's reaction, what the FEDRA agents would do with you or the cold, your words came out without a specific tone, so it was hard for Ellie to tell if you were affirming or asking her, it wasn't until you spoke again that she knew you were actually asking her a question. "Right?"

Ellie: really, really, fucked.." 'Ellie, seeing the fear on your face, took your hand and gave it a light squeeze. "But together on this."

With resignation and a slight calmness from having her by your side and backing you up, you rested your head on her shoulder.

[smgryufied]

⟢ Hero(e)s complex

pairing/s: Samantha Giddings/Michael Munroe, one sided Jess/Matt (mentioned)

warnings: ooc mike, smut in chapter 2 wip

words: 1265

chapters: 1 | 2

Sam and Michael greet each other at the desk while all their friends are in their respective hospital beds. Mike still struggles with a hero complex after the events, so he wants to make up for not being able to save Sam last night. There's always other nights.

Sam put her elbows on the counter and sucked her lips inwards as she waited for a nurse, or anyone at this point, to come and guide her to her own room.

After all, she's been nursing her own friends, it's only fair for her to be a little impatient, right?

She taps her feet, growing more and more impatient by the second. Mike, sitting on one of the four chairs near the counter, notices this and glances at her. His eyebrows go up in shock as he notices all the open wounds, burns, and bruises on Sam's side profile and the rest of her body. The adrenaline and trauma finally wore down a little bit, enough for him to notice this. He gets up to stand beside her.

He clicks his tongue, "Still no luck?". She shakes her head "Nope," as the tapping of her feet becomes faster. Her heart pounds faster and her mind races even more.

Wanting to help, Mike stares at one noticeably large burn on Sam's arm for a few seconds, "There's some bandages in Jess' room if you want to patch those up while the nurses are off to god knows what," he offers. Sam's movements stop as she glances at Mike, opening her mouth to say something, but she shakes the thought away and shakes her head a "no".

"You sure?" Mike persists. "Yeah, I wouldn't wanna disturb her beauty sleep," she remarks, "It's been one hell of a night". Mike gives her an annoyed expression, not to her though, but more to what she said about not wanting to disturb Jessica. "I don't mind," he says, "She broke up with me anyway," before walking away to head off to Jessica's room.

Sam sighs as he takes off. Even after everything that happened, he still is stubborn. Perfect definition of a himbo if he wasn't so smart in school.

Thinking about what Mike said about patching up, Sam looks at her hands and notices all the results of that night, only then does she feel the pain.

She starts to feel a breeze on her bicep and without looking, she tries to put her palm on the area but winces as soon as her finger comes in contact with the large open wound, making her look.

Mike, heading towards her, narrows his eyes at the wound and looks back at her, "Did you try to patch it up with your hand?" he says sarcastically. "I didn't know it was there," Sam answers. Mike gives her a confused expression, "You didn't know a large chunk of flesh was missing from your arm?" Mike asks while he rolls the small bandage around her arm. It'll have to do. The question made Sam shrug. "Adrenaline must've hit you hard, huh?" he jokes. "Haha, yeah, maybe I should've hit you hard with that shovel then," Sam remarks as they both laugh.

It reminded Mike of something, it reminded him of that night. He doesn't know how, but it managed to escape from his memory briefly, and he preferred it that way, but it also reminded him how Sam saved his ass from that wendigo, and the others too from burning that goddamn house down. He sighs in relief from the thought, "I don't think I ever thanked you properly for that," he trails off and starts thinking again. Sam looks up at him when she noticed that he stopped rolling the bandage.

"You don't have to, it's a favor, and besides, it's a life we're talking about here, your life, Mike," Sam attempts to reassure him, making him pause his train of thought. "Yeah.. you know it's just.. I never really got the chance to save you from a near-death experience," Mike goes on, "even in the end, you were the one who saved me from getting my head bit off by the wendigo in that cabin".

Sam furrows her eyebrows in a concerned look and Mike takes notice of this too. "Sorry," he says and starts wrapping the bandage again, "I developed some sort of um," he laughs at what he thinks is a ridiculous thought, "hero.. complex or something".

Sam holds Mike's hand that had the bandages in hand and finishes the job herself. "You don't have to save everyone, even though you did, with that light bulb action back in the cabin," she looks up at Mike as she says that. As she finishes covering the wound, she looks for a pair of scissors to cut the extra but Mike just rips it. It hurt, but Sam doesn't mind. She turns her back to the counter and Mike does the same. "You were a hero, Mike, stop downsizing yourself. We can both be heroes," Sam speaks up, "You don't have to save everyone in order to call yourself one".

They both smile at each other then Sam's eyes drift away to Jessica's door as it opens, revealing Matt getting out. Sam lifts one eyebrow, making Mike turn, but he looks back not long after. Matt, walking towards the bathroom behind the duo, makes a small wave aimed mainly towards Sam, while Mike just stares. Sam turns her head as her eyes still follow Matt until he's out of sight, then she looks at Mike again.

"So the break-up was." she says. He shrugs "Fuck if I know. They were stuck together after I left her in that elevator 'cause I thought she was fucking dead," Mike blurts out. Sam nods slowly. "I tried the best I could to save her, you know... I didn't leave her on purpose, but she doesn't know that, and now look at the knight in bloody shitty armor". The comment on the armor made Sam observe Mike. He wasn't wearing that denim jacket anymore, she wonders where he left it. Instead, he was left in this sleeveless white, also bloody, shirt that he was wearing underneath it, revealing how much time he spends in the gym. That's one thing he can commit to, maybe the only one.

The silence made Mike sigh in exasperation, the pain relievers he took could only deal with the physical pain after all. Other drugs could've solved the other kind though.

They stood like this for a while, to others, they're standing in silence, to them, it's so loud that they can't even hear the source of the noise, aka their mind, properly. They barely got any sleep except a short nap they took while waiting around for the past couple hours. The silence is far from awkward, but it made Sam courageous enough to speak. "It's not too late, you know". Mike looked at her expecting more words to come out but Sam just stood still, staring at the wall in front of them with her arms crossed. "Not too late for what?" he asks.

"To repay me," she says.

The way Sam looked at him made Mike instantly know what she was talking about. Mike would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it since that night. The tension they had together then was undeniable after all. Like a tandem. A couple of people who knew each other's mind like it was their own.

No need for spoken words if they can just know, they can just feel. Like what they're doing right now. No one spoke a word about it, but they just knew. It's like they were made for each other. No wonder all Mike's past relationships never lasted. It used to gross Sam out until that one night changed their fucking friendship.

[captain-mj]

I would honestly kill a man for more selkie Soap (with the side bonus of changeling Ghost if you would) it's such a good concept I love it

Continuation of this post! Also, yes, I realized after posting that I didn't explicitly say Ghost is a changeling, but in all of the Selkie Soap stuff, Ghost has been a changeling. 

"So. Yes, in a way? Selkie marriage is a bit different."

"Different how?" Soap slipped his coat on, relief flooding through him like his own blood in his veins.

"Well... it's not a contract for one. Both parties don't have to be aware. Your heart just... belongs with him until you can undo it."

"Ah..." So nothing really changed for him. "Understood. My coat is safe with me. I was injured and asked him to grab some things. He... He put it on... Should I..."

"Don't be too harsh on him. A lot of people feel the draw to it. He gave it back which proves he wasn't malicious. You just have to have him let you go."

"Let me go... Yeah. I can... I can do that." Shouldn't be too hard. Just get Ghost to call them friends or something. Some dumb thing that would imply they're not married. Fae rules. Twist a person's word to whatever you want.

"Stay safe out there. Want you to come home to me on your leave."

"I will, Ma. I promise." Soap smiled. "It's nice to hear your voice."

"You should call me more often. Maybe we can talk more about mystery man you have a crush on."

"Ma, he is my superior officer. Nothing will happen."

"He's also your husband." She teased gently.

"How dare you." Soap groaned before talking to her about other things. Unfortunately, being that he was injured, he ended up having to cut the call early, exhausted.

He slept a lot the first day and thanks to his coat, it was pretty nice sleep. Except for the fact that it made him dream of Ghost.

Every.

Fucking.

Dream.

It had to be the magic spouse thing going on because his dreams never made sense before. The first started normal for him, weird discombobulated scenes that barely strung together and then... Ghost entered. He held his hand and they talked like normal.

Soap couldn't get dream Ghost's laughter out of his head. Despite all their jokes, he had only ever gotten a huff out of him. He didn't think it was because he wasn't funny, he was and he leaned into Ghost's shitty humor so he knew it wasn't that, but just because Ghost didn't laugh. Ghost also didn't cry. He didn't show his face. All known and accepted facts.

The second dream started off weird. He didn't dream of being in the ocean often. But there he was! Normal selkie behavior, craving the sea.

And there Ghost fucking was. in the water with him. Dark eyes that reminded him of the fucking deep staring at him. Even in his dreams, Ghost wore that stupid skull mask.

And that led him to the one he just had. Ghost's mouth on his neck, hand in his pants. He was in the medbay, trying very hard to ignore that he was harder than he had been in months from that simple of a dream.

Fucking hell. That goddamn idiot just had to put on his coat. Had to bind them together like this.

He thought of him and tried to stay mad but it was difficult. Ghost really didn't know and he gave it back and...

Soap groaned in frustration. He needed to get out of the hospital and unmarried.

"Johnny?"

Speak of the devil.

"Ghost." He smiled at him instinctively. “What are you doing here again?”

Ghost stared at him for a minute before shrugging. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything alright, LT?”

Ghost looked around the med bay. “Yeah. I’m good.” He sat down, body barely fitting in the chair. 

Soap watched him for a minute before relaxing into his bed. He didn’t feel tired now plus he was worried about what dreams he’d get now that Ghost was there to observe them.

“Am I dreaming?” Soap asked out loud, glancing at Ghost.

“No.” Ghost laughed and closed his eyes, head tilting back. “I got bored. Nothing to do in this fucking place.”

“So you come to me?”

“Yeah, guess I did.” Ghost glanced at him, head tilting. Soap felt a twinge of frustration. No matter how closely he looked at Ghost, his eyes never looked the same. Always switching from brown to blue and back again.

“Do you wear contacts?”

“What? No. Why the fuck do you think that?”

“Your eyes change.”

“It’s called lighting.” Simon said it deadpan, but Soap could see the smallest shaking of his shoulders like he was laughing. 

Soap smiled. “What kind of car does a sheep like to drive?”

“What’s that, Johnny?”

“A lamborghini.” Soap sat up, wincing. Ghost leaned over and helped him up, readjusting him against the pillows. He tried very hard to tell himself anyone would help someone who was hurt, but Ghost didn’t usually go to the medbay at all, let alone help. 

“When I was on leave last time, I got so bored I took fencing.” Ghost said to him quietly, like he was telling a secret.

“Really?” Ghost being a sword fighter sounded a little too much. Guy was already an expert at almost everything else.

“Yeah my neighbors keep demanding I give it back.” His eyes met Johnny’s before he burst into laughter, wincing when it made his leg move. 

“Christ, Lt. That was especially bad.” He smiled at him. He noticed his hands. “You’re still wearing your gloves. That cold in here?”

“No. I don’t get cold easily.” 

“Then why do you wear all the layers?” Johnny knew the answer already.

“Don’t want to be seen.” Ghost glanced at him, tilting his head. They stared at each other for a while. 

Yeah, nothing really changed. Ghost had a stranglehold on his heart already, didn’t need the coat for it. He averted his gaze and started talking about football. It was an easy subject, he knew Ghost watched games when on leave and thanks to playing in highschool, he knew the ins and outs enough to impress anyone. 

“You play sports in high school?” In Soap’s head, Ghost must’ve. Tall guy with broad shoulders? Every coach would’ve been fighting to get him. 

“No.” 

“What did you do?”

“Worked as soon as I could.” Ghost answered honestly. “Didn’t have time for stuff like that.” 

Soap frowned, going to change the subject before it hit him that Ghost just freely answered something about himself. He trudged on. “Did you like school?”

“Yeah. It was better than home at least.” 

“Have any siblings that stuck around?”

Wrong question. Ghost got up. “I should let you sleep. It’s late.”

“Wait, Simon.” Soap went to apologize, but Ghost looked at him and he shut up immediately. Not because Ghost scared him, but the way his eyes looked. Sliver of gold around his pupil that disappeared as soon as Soap saw it. “Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

Soap took a deep breath when he was gone. So Ghost wasn’t human either. From the way he acted, Soap was still pretty sure he didn’t know he was a selkie, he still believed their marriage was accidental. But this did make everything quiet a bit more interesting. 

[soraviie]

you compare yourself to him 2.txt

━ type: bts x f! reader ━ navigation ━ part I here

━ about: angst atop of angst and some fluff

━ a/n: Bacchus here is a reference to a Korean energy drink in Yoongi's part. Jimin's part is my own favourite one :)

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: The world is...beige. Since when? Blinking away the heavy grogginess, you reach to touch the material on your face before removing it. Looking around one might think you'd slept through the whole warfare as every surface is covered in clothes. Amidst the maelstrom like a blur in the wind is Namjoon, tossing everything he could find all around. You reach to hook a finger around a silver chain necklace inexplicably dangling on a bedside lamp. You remember this one. You'd gifted him this in Tartu on a whim of being overwhelmingly lovesick for his dimples.

"Are you fleeing the country?" you rasp, voice falling gruff from the disuse. It had been...hard to talk after the gallery. Or look at yourself in the mirror. Or leave the bed.

At the sound of your voice, Namjoon whips around, accidentally pulling along with him a lightbox. Dimly you watch it clatter on the ground.

"Baby! Hello! Did you sleep well?" he asks with an eagerness of a zealous labrador and you frown.

"Well enough. Have you gone mad? Perhaps?"

He laughs as though this simple remark was the finest joke in the land.

"No, I'm very focused and logical," he chirps and your frown deepens. No way his brain was not harmed somehow. This was...suspicious to say the least.

"Listen, I'm going to be on the TV today -"

"You always are," dryly you point out but then he crawls on the bed and practically sticks his face into yours, so close you go cross-eyed.

"Make sure you watch it, okay? It'll be a live. Starts at 3."

"Okay," flustered you comply and as his breath fans your face the suspicion surges. "How many energy drinks have you had?"

"Nine!"

Your eyes pop open but you can't do much about it as he glimpsed down, finds the necklace glimmering between your fingers and lets out a jubilant cry.

"I've been looking for this thing! Thank you!" he begins leaving rushed kisses all over your face, graciously ignoring any protests. "Thank you, baby! My moon and stars!"

Was he drunk as well?

Pulling back just as haphazardly he glanced at the clock, breathing a horrified gasp.

"Oh, shit, I'm late! But the mess..." he tosses a guilty glimpse at the destroyed closet before you push him.

"I'll..I'll clean it, just go."

You had little to do anyway, not like you could go to a gallery to have worldly people fun. At that, a natural scoff worms upon your face.

"Thank you! I love you! I love you so much!" he yelps and presses himself fervently against you, capturing your lips in a sloppy, frantic kiss. The taste of energy drinks spills onto your mouth. The next you know, your boyfriend becomes Sonic and is out of the door leaving nothing but destruction in his wake.

Typical.

You're still folding some pants when reluctantly the weight of the promise burdens you too much and end up switching the TV, knowing in your heart that seeing him in his role as an idol, you'll only feel more distant. What sort of girlfriend tunes into the TV to see their boyfriend not just call them? What sort of girlfriend were you at all? You frown at the leg of the pants, bunching it in your palms before releasing it. A lame one. You were a lame girlfriend.

It couldn't be said that this interview was anything else that you hadn't seen and heard hundred times before but one thing does stick out like red in a sea of mourners. Namjoon looks like a goddamn patchwork game. You can squint and frown, an action which is done by many, including the interviewer, his band, and the camera operator probably as well. The look presented makes it seem he was blind, drunk, and high when choosing his clothes and also made that choice in a closet belonging to a crazy person. Green baggy pants, a red turtleneck, a white, little scarf, a beret and the necklace proudly laid to glisten in the middle of his chest which that turtleneck is giving it all to protect.

Was this his way of saying he needed a break?

"Uh, Namjoon, to address the uh...elephant in the room," the interviewer begins, pulling the collar of the shirt aside, under pressure to both ask and be very polite about it. "Are you experimenting with new fashion these days?"

"No," he beams back, suspiciously innocent and wide-eyed. "These are my favourite clothes! They give me comfort and remind me of being loved whenever I go."

You think back and start piecing together, a patchwork of your own if you will, that these were all things you got him. Some you had forgotten - the joke beret, the necklace but the red turtleneck was an impromptu Christmas present while the green pants he wanted but didn't have the time to go out and buy himself.

"I see," the interviewer drawls. "To segway off what you said, as k-pop idols, love is certainly a big part of your songs, may I ask how you view love on your own? Is it something you share with your image or is it completely different?"

"Well, I-" Taehyung begins but is immediately interrupted by Namjoon whose eagerness makes him look like a complete maniac. Poor Taehyung can only blink owlishly and then let the matter be.

"Thank you so much for asking! I've thought a lot about love, I always made it complicated in my head, but now I know better. Love is being understood," his eyes snap straight into the camera and you flinch as you hold eye contact. "It's to be comfortable and feeling heard. Most of the time you know people say you have to be of similar interests, that then you'll be able to bond better but that is simply not true. People are not bonded together by their diplomas, how many stamps they have on their passport or how many painting meanings they can discern."

Your cheeks flush.

"They are bonded because they share one another and that's what's important not the trivial nonsense others may push upon them. The world is made of perspectives and whenever our loved ones express their thoughts it becomes a better, more interesting place. And I think we ourselves as well. What matters is not how many, let's say, artwork meanings they get but how much of us they get."

"And do you feel..."get"?" the interviewer asks awkwardly and Namjoon splits into a broad smile.

"Very much so. I need nothing of no one else."

YOONGI: He stands there menacingly. A (not so) tall shadow cast over your bed at the very break of the dawn.

"You slept well?" he asks. Menacingly. Cause that's what he was. Menacing. Even the package in his hands is...menacing. You scurry to press yourself against the headboard. There's a determined gleam in his eye, one that says he was up to something and will see the fruits of his labour even if it kills him.

"Umm it was okay. Why are you cosplaying as the boy from the Grudge?"

He whines and the sinister aura disappears. You had hoped to avoid him for some days. Despite your best intentions, the words that you were only charity to Yoongi repeated their heinous loop over and over in your head.

"It was meant to be cute," he pouts. "Like watching over you in a guardian sort of way."

"Ended up with Brahms," you mutter and then erupt in a fit of coughs, dryness in the throat making it hard to speak.

Yoongi's face sours in an instant.

"Did you fall mute again?"

You shrug. It's easy not to talk when you don't exist. He sighs but doesn't prod, knowing full well he can't force things to be alright.

"Would you be up for dinner? A fancy one?"

You incline your head to the package and he hands it over. Inside sits dinner wear made of the finest quality.

"Why?" you rasp. "You don't usually like dressing up."

He shrugs and something about it has your eyes narrowing.

"Just wanted to do something different," he replies a bit too offhand. "Are you up to it?"

"I-" another cough interrupts the sentence and Yoongi rushes to get a glass of water. "Thank you. Okay. We can go to dinner."

Another dinner, yey, you think to yourself dryly but he seems for some reason excited and it would be no good to be a curmudgeon to him as well.

"Thank you, Bacchus," he bids softly and leans to kiss the top of your head.

You snort at the nickname.

But the dinner extravaganza didn't simply end there. With every passing second, the mystery tightened like an Agatha Christie novel. Yoongi insisted on you taking the car he ordered, tinted windows to add, to an undisclosed restaurant and with the driver oathed to not speak a word of it. Your phone he asked to shut off as well. Not put it on mute but turn it off entirely. You partially wondered if he hit a psychotic break of sorts and/or has unfortunately turned into a murderer. Mulling over the heartbreak that would be if your honey boy would turn into a killer, you were stunned to see a familiar face when climbing out of the car. Your mother.

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

She was dressed to the nines as well and seemed rather shocked to see you climbing out of the car. Around her neck sat a pearl necklace one you don't recall her having and she was nervously twiddling with it in front of the restaurant's host. A restaurant that you very purposefully avoided as one of its managers was none other than that annoying, grating, stick-so-far-up-her-ass-its-practically-impaling-her cousin of yours.

"I don't know," she replied, glancing around. "Your boyfriend asked me to be here."

Before you could answer anything, the host urged you to enter into a private area as was the case when you dined with someone who needed absolute security at all times. The group wasn't all that large, consisting of yourself, your mother, your aunt, the aunt who wasn't as cool as the first one her weird husband and their dog even, who was sporting a fancy bowtie for the occasion. By the table sat Yoongi and though many would say he appeared stoic you knew exactly what that sly, scheming son of a biscuit had done this evening. He raised to stand, politely bid welcome to all your relations who as always didn't know how to act so they settled on an ungainly silence, and then gave you flowers before kissing your cheek. By the bar, her eyes glinting like two wildfires, sat your cousin gurgling her own poison most likely.

"I'm so going to choke you for this," you discreetly whisper into his ear but he only smiles.

With alcohol loosening much of the knotted tongues, the dinner progressed smoothly. Yoongi occasionally coquettishly leaned in, so unlike him, and brushed his nose against your cheek. All, of course, a part of an elaborate apology.

"But you were afraid of my mother," you argue, walking hand in hand back home. Where your cousin went you did not know but it was unlikely she would be present at the next meeting.

"Still am," he chuckles but even then there is an undercurrent of fright running deep. "But after you hung up I called her and she relayed that you looked like a ghost for the rest of the evening. And I know I said this a thousand times but I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm not always there for you, I'm sorry for being absent, I'm sorry if anyone ever made you feel like you're invisible," he sighed, stretching he tie looser from his neck and you adjusted his hair, mussed by a strong gust of wind.

"Still you don't need to do all that," softly you say. "It's enough for you to just show up sometimes and be awkward in the corner."

"I know," he kisses the top of your head pushing the doors open. "Just wanted to show that you're the only one I see."

JIN: In a fashion that probably millions of other people did before him he pretended everything was fine. That it was all fine. What was it? Fine. Normal. Nothing was happening. Everything's usual. The same old. And then he cried in the bathroom stall for ten minutes, before forcing it to all stop and pretending that it was all fine.

But as your things became scarcer and two lives that he meant to unite forever were separated, clinically and detached like a scalpel of a surgeon, the less he could pretend it was fine.

It wasn't fine. It was over.

Jin was never one for relationship theatrics to say that his life was over as well but now he realized that it was - the life he wanted at least and possibly could have had in the future - was dust.

But there is some truth to the idea that sometimes loving someone was leaving them, letting them go in a wind, like a migrating bird, away from the winter of discontent and into the summer of ease.

And you assure him it's nothing he had done. Perhaps that's the most infuriating part, it's nothing he'd done so he can't correct, he can't change the world for you even if he wants to oh so bad. But harder still is to watch, watch you be a hollow shell, driven to a point of insecurity so high you ill. No jokes of his, no smiles, no well-meaning words of his can change the sentiment.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't handle the world you live in."

Even if he wouldn't be an idol, it's a world Jin has always lived in. He knows how to not buckle underneath the waves of judgment cause he had swum in them since but a bare-bottomed infant.

"You can always crash here or call me if you need help," he offers, trying to sound as light as possible while helping you pack the last boxes. Such a strange thing to help the love of your life leave you but despite all Jin has always wanted to take care. So he takes care one last time.

"That's not how it works," you laugh. It's dry and humourless and he wonders how long will it take for you to move on. The love is not lost it just couldn't conquer all as lovely as that would be.

"Yeah, I guess so," he scuffs his slipper against the floor. The home is empty now. It feels physically wrong and Jin hopes to himself this would all be a bad dream. That this is the same night he got you from the police station and this was a concoction of the mind, wormed and plagued by guilt.

"Eat well, okay," he reminds. There's so much he wants to say but he lets himself choke on those words. Why? He doesn't quite know but the last thing he wants to do is make you feel any worse. That's not what a good partner does. Even if he's soon to not be one.

"I will," you promise. "Remember to stretch once in a while, you play too many video games, they can make your muscles tense."

He doesn't trust his voice so Jin nods. And just like that, it's over. A thirty-second walk to the elevator is all he gets instead of a whole life he'd been so certain of. But even now he thinks that better you be happy than miserable by his side. The elevator dings and he's buying seconds, he would put his entire fortune for just a minute.

"Where will you be travelling exactly?" he asks.

"I don't know. Somewhere warm, somewhere cold. Find myself again," you reply, pretending it's all fine as well. If you acknowledge the reality for just a second, you'll break and so you delude yourself. For just a bit.

Jin nearly says to send him a lot of videos but then bites on his tongue. The elevator opens and you climb in, a suitcase behind you, a carton box in the crook of your arm. Jin smiles.

"You know, life is strange. Should we suddenly cross paths five years later who knows how it'll turn out, right?"

It's, of course, a hopeful delusion, a length of rope many have tied around their necks with a smile on their face but he can't stop. He doesn't want to stop. If the movie has a hopeful ending, it's a love story, if not - it's a tragedy and Jin was never one for tragedies.

Be that as it may, you open your mouth to say something, anything, but the elevator closes and the rest is silence.

HOSEOK: He glowers. Hoseok is not known for glowering but he does so to his earnest. The foot tapping the floor nearly makes a dent in the material as he waits. Waits for you like a disappointed parent or a hunter lying in an ambush. Hoseok himself doesn't particularly care what he is as long as he gets what he wants which is you at home.

She's not cheating, she would never cheat, he tells himself but isn't that what all poor bastards of the world thought. The hallway is dark and you stumble freely, assuming he's not here and then nearly crack your skull open when seeing him stand stoic like a statue in the dark.

"Fucking hell!" you yell and he jumps, somehow startling himself by the loudness of your voice.

"Welcome back," he greets you cooly, turning on the lights. "Hoped I was out?"

You stand squirming in guilt and avoiding his gaze exactly like a cheater would but there's no cologne on your blouse or a hickey on the neck. The only thing you carried was a plastic bag with snacks. Cheap, cheap snacks.

He takes it away from your hands and peers inside. Ramen, cotton buds, chocolate chips, and seaweed for some reason.

"I don't understand," he breathes out. "You're...all this time...every time you're not home you're doing grocery shopping?"

You don't answer anything and his brows furrow in confusion.

"_____________, I don't understand. Please, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing wrong per se," you brush off. "It's just I..."

"I?" he urges.

"It's where I feel like I belong."

For a while, he leans into the wall and then it clicks together.

The store was perhaps the most normal thing possible with people going about their day, hardly any limelight. Hardly any luxury.

"You're with me, I love you," he sighs. "My world is your world."

"Yeah," you brush off, clearly lying. "I know."

And perhaps it's the stress or perhaps the fierceness with which he's ready to tie himself to you, a move he never thought he could wholeheartedly make, he has none of it. Which brings him back to a party, one in his name once more just a tad more covert.

"I don't know about this," you stammer, trying to pull your hand away from his.

"Just trust me. Don't you trust me?"

"Not with that tone," you whine crossing the street. "Listen, I'm happy your album is a success, couldn't be prouder -"

Hoseok's ears flush to this day when hearing any praise from your mouth.

"Thank you."

"- but you can, you know, have fun and I'll chill out somewhere else."

He whips around.

"Is it something someone said?" he confronts and you awkwardly glance away.

"They don't need to say it, it's apparent. I'm sticking out like a sore thumb in these places."

"I don't care for them and neither should you! If these parties are about me, then you should always be a part of them. I invite all the guys, all the time -"

"Yeah, you all work in the same field," you roll your eyes and he lightly flicks your forehead.

"Dummy, they're my family, you're my family and my family is with me in celebrations."

You gaze at your intertwined hands.

"Obviously, I can't and shouldn't force you to be here but trust me and maybe I can make you feel a little bit better."

You draw a heavy sigh, bemoaning to yourself about the sacrifices of love and with gritted teeth step into the enemy territory. It's loud and bright with many strangers surrounding you like flies around honey. You notice Jin and Jungkook tucked away neatly in the corner and they offer knowing nods of the head. You frown at them and turn to the stage where there's a podium and a magnificent chair like a throne behind it. Hoseok sits you, confused, down in it, sort of in the background but always present like an overarching symbolic presence and if people look then even faster they swerve away in guilt. Hoseok's smile is bright and polite but there is no question about it that the line "let's be friendly" means no one so much as opens their mouth to toss a curt comment or swerve their eye your way in an inappropriate manner. In between Hoseok frequently checking back and Jin pulling you into a nameless 1v1 phone game, you forget of the crowd, their judgement and your need for their opinion. Whenever you glance up, Hoseok is there giving an encouraging smile and you realize the one opinion that matters the most will never waver from always being in your favour.

JIMIN: The money spilt all across the counter as Mari yelped, startled when the door was simply kicked open.

"I-I'm sorry but we're clo-"

"What is this?" Jimin's voice comes with a sharpness you'd never ever heard before. It makes you swallow nervously, eyes lingering on the paper slip clutched in his palm.

"I...I explained what it is," you squirm anxiously and Mari's head is a blur, switching to left and fro in between you both.

"We..we have to keep closing," she whimpers, shrivelled small by the register squeaking in a barely audible tone.

Jimin's eyes snap towards her and she immediately withers underneath his rage.

"Just go home," you order her, tired, and she doesn't have to be told twice. Only a second passes before she's scurrying to the door. Momentarily, you can see that she recognizes the masked stranger but that makes her eyes only hang lower as she desperately tries to not be remembered, probably counting the sum of his displeasure in her head. When the bell rings to announce her exit, the air presses down with tension.

You twist the towel in your hands, pulling a deep breath to speak a string of words that cut your heart open.

"Jimin, I want...I want to break up."

"No."

A pause.

"No?" stunned, you echo.

"I'm not breaking up with you."

He has pulled the mask off his face and his eyes are crazy. They're rimmed red. He's been crying.

"You can't just -" you begin to object but he quickly interrupts.

"Do you still love me?"

The question takes you by surprise but he's not content with silence.

"Do you still love me?" he reiterates with more strength and you nod, voice catching in the throat.

"I do, but -"

"When we got together I said it would be hard but we promised, you promised that we would work through our problems together."

"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"Not accepted," Jimin snaps and you flinch. "What was this - "I'm sure in time you'll find yourself a more appropriate partner with whom you'll feel happier." With all due respect, ______________, you do not get to dictate what or to whom I should feel something. I'm dating you because I want you, not a model, not an idol or whoever you think is "good" for me. I want you."

"But what if I begin to resent you?" glaring at your shoes you listlessly argue but Jimin's face doesn't differ from the hard scowl with which he barged here into.

"I'm not going to part with the love of my life on a what if," he sneered throwing your breakup letter decidedly into the trash.

"But I'll just be a burden-!"

"Oh for the love of!" he throws his hands into the air. "You're not a burden for asking my help. I want to do it, you understand? Me! I want to help you, I want to provide for you, that's what I want not what you force me to do," completely worked himself into a heated tirade, he barely took a breath before pelting the words one after another like hail upon your shoulders.

"We're going to go home, talk about our problems and then live happily ever after, god fucking damnit!"

You stand mutely, hunched in yourself quite like a berated kid. Exhaling slowly through the nose, Jimin's rage seems to abate, if a little bit, and for a lingering pause, there's only the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock filling the air.

"I still need to close," you shuffle, sensing the familiar sting in the eyes.

"Fill out the documents," he replies stiffly but at least not sneering anymore. "I'll do the rest. You must be tired."

You comply without a question sitting down to fill out the proper numbers. Jimin's ensnared with dusting the countertops, mopping the floor, and gathering the trash. An unsightly, lowly work that a national star like him shouldn't be doing but he does. He does it all.

TAEHYUNG: He keeps thinking that it can't simply end like that - on a slammed door in the silence. But it does. It's inevitable like seeing your favourite movie with a sad ending over and over again, always hoping that the familiar reel will somehow change, that the world will be a better place than it is but the movie is set and the ending is set and everything is set in stone. Taehyung's role is set to play the irredeemable villain and be ruined by his own actions.

"This..you know...big city...but lovers find their way," he slurs in a bar with only Jimin to keep tabs on him. He's angry, untalkative and quite upset as Taehyung lost the love of his life and he lost a good friend all in one fell swoop. It's only because of Jimin's curt text of "way to miss your girlfriend's birthday, prick" that he came to his senses. He'd rushed home all at once though it did no good. The apartment was empty, the neighbours vouched for you moving out and in the trash, he found a single, crumpled note. It began and ended with only one word - V. Not Taehyung the one he's always been to you but V. There was nothing after it but he kept it still.

"Lovers...they find each other in every life right?" he asks but Jimin remains obstinately quiet yet when comes the time to weep he reaches out to pat his friend's back.

"It's just a scarf!" he yells into the stylist's face. "It's just a scarf! What's the big deal? It fits the theme, right? Just let me keep it!"

Namjoon having rushed to the room inspects this strange friend of his, backed into the corner with an expression so vicious he fails to recognize him. He doesn't know what happened but he knows the way Taehyung hugs the scarf to his chest, to protect, to cradle it like a kindling flame. He knows grief when he sees one.

"Just leave him alone," he orders the stylist and Taehyung is let on the stage with a scarf on his neck, one he doesn't stop touching throughout the entirety of the event. It was the only thing left besides the note, otherwise, you'd been very thorough, combing your life free of him in all conceivable ways. World as always goes on and Taehyung hates it for it doing so. Rather it'd stop, rather it stand completely still so he can mould himself into time itself and stop existing. He sees fractures of you in scenarios of happy strangers, of hands intertwined and smiles shared, a life lived together as he always wanted to. He intended to with such certainty it's like the very basis underneath his feet is crushed. He never assumed it'd go so wrong.

Largely he keeps this obsession to himself, of fear of being judged, of being called crazy, only Jimin knows and in his neverending love for his friend, he tolerates it. Partially in the happier moments, Taehyung tries to romanticize the situation. In any good love story, one person meets another and they are split apart by circumstance only to end up together. Forgiveness always wins and love prevails. That's what he was told since being a baby. This was...this was his term of punishment, a way to apologize for his actions but nothing of the sort is of course real. The reality which Taehyung was never too fond of was much more sterner and cutthroat. You didn't love him anymore = you left. The End.

The End.

He lives in dreams and he lives in love that now is just an echo.

But the wronger still comes the day when your scarf splits at the seams. It can't be fixed, it can't be brought back, it's just ruined and gone and it sits in Taehyung's hands - useless. Still, he shoves the threads in his pocket, fully aware that there was a line, a fine line to be drawn but he can't bring himself to draw it. If he stops hoping, just for a second, his movie will end like it was always meant to be.

JUNGKOOK: "Please come home."

"No."

The begging had been going on for almost half an hour. Both attempts were fruitless, his - to get you back, yours - to get him to leave.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't accidentally step on my foot! You told me my entire life is useless. That I'm wrong for being not like you."

He licks his dry lips and runs a hand through the messed-up hair. Unwillingly, you notice that his knuckles were faintly bleeding. The temperature had dropped suddenly overnight. He must have forgotten to lotion them. Not that it mattered now. Though he had quite a lot to argue about that.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for what I said. I was stupid, petulant and..." he sighs, staring at the floor. "Jealous."

"Over what?" you tilt an eyebrow.

"Yoongi. You get along with Yoongi. He gets you and I was scared so I lashed out."

"It's not an excuse," listlessly, you frown at his figure lodged halfway into your friend's apartment. A safe haven, he somehow managed to find out about. One couldn't argue with how driven Jungkook was. A quality you did not appreciate much right now.

"What do you want here? That I'll spring back into your arms, magically find some sort of passion and suck you off in gratitude?!"

"No!" he objects. "No! It's not like that!"

"Then explain! Explain for us lowly, dispassionate losers what is this all about?!"

He begins to twiddle with his thumbs, tongue playing with the back of his lip ring. It wasn't often that a 1.79m, tattoed muscle mass known as Jeon Jungkook could possibly appear small but he appeared as such in this very moment.

"I just want you back. Want to eat my words," when you open your mouth to tear him a new one, he hurries faster. "But I know I can't. So I am asking, I'm begging to give me a chance. Not forgiveness, just a chance to start over. As...friends...if you'd like. I'll get to know you anew, open mind this time. Be as you are. That's all I'm asking."

"Friends?" you parrot, part scornful, part impressed. He used to drone on and on about how he always wanted to be more than friends, how that name was like a lightless void to him, an unshakeable role in the distance he was desperate to breach so to hear him offer that very role so eagerly was if anything a symbol of truly wanting to listen. If he could be trusted.

You assess him sternly, tucking away the feeling of a girlfriend far way.

"If we do it, if!" you emphasize yet his eyes gain a hopeful tint. Retribution. "I want to be able to cut ties without you throwing a fit, tracking me down and doing this because this," you wave over his crouched figure. "Is not cute. It's annoying. One strike and you're out! And we start as friends!"

He's not deterred in the slightest on the opposite his face is glowing.

"I'll get to know you as I should have," he promises. "No judgement."

You let out a prolonged, irritated sigh.

"I hate you."

"I don't," he replies, nose scrunched in happiness. "Not in the slightest."

© soraviii/soraviiie 2022-23

[ebongawk]

WIP Whenever

tysm @justhere4thevibez for the tag!!

Okay I have way too many WIPs to do snippets from them all but the two main ones I'm working on are:

the time travel AU:

“Eddie?” Whether it was the sound of his name or the weight of his gaze that grabbed her attention, Chrissy glanced up.  Taken aback, blinking in surprise, Chrissy looked toward her boyfriend briefly before her eyes met his again.  Catching him in the act of openly staring, and Eddie knew he was being a creep.  But he couldn’t stop.  He couldn’t look away.  He couldn’t breathe. She was even wearing her fucking cheer uniform. She’s gonna die soon. But she’s alive right now. And she was looking right at him. “Eddie, man, you good?” A sudden pat to his shoulder snapped the moment clean in half, yanking his attention away from her endlessly sad eyes.  Eyes that no one else seemed to notice.  Heaving in a great breath, Eddie felt his entire body go numb, looking away from Chrissy Cunningham.  Putting her back in his periphery, where she’d lived for so many years before that fateful March day, as he caught Henderson’s concerned expression.  Sinclair and Wheeler were also staring at him like he’d lost his marbles, unapologetically staring at the basketball captain’s girlfriend. “I-I––” he started, taking a half-step back. “You good?” Dustin asked again, hesitance coloring his tone in blue worry.  “You look like you just saw a ghost.” I did. She’s gonna die.  She’s gonna die. She’s gonna die, and it’s all my fucking fault.

AND the cuckolding AU:

“You haven’t even ordered yet.” Hesitating, Chrissy let out a slow, deep breath, eyes still tracing the granules of wood beneath her fingertips.  They glanced up, washing over the mass of glass bottles lined up in neat little rows, silently picking apart the labels and trying to assuage which one would be safest.  Least caloric.  Trying to maintain appearances, or something.  Trying to pretend her lie of a relationship hadn’t just imploded, and she needed to remain pleasant and small to keep Jason interested.  As her mother told her, all through high school.  Even if all she wanted was a Sex on the Beach.  “Um.  A vodka tonic, please?” The bartender scoffed.  He scoffed. “Princess, listen,” he said, leaning so his own elbows were propped on the bar just inches from hers.  “You really want a vodka tonic?  I’ll make you the best goddamn vodka tonic you’ve ever had in your life.  But if you’re gonna keep eye-fucking my peach schnapps like it’s a four course meal, I’m gonna end up charging you for it.” “Oh, my God.”  She was laughing so hard her stomach had started to hurt. “It’s a dollar a shot, you dig?” “Listen, Mr. Barkeep––” “Eddie,” he interrupted to introduce himself. “I am not eye-fucking your peach schnapps,” she cried around the humor in her throat.  God, it tasted so good.  Almost as good as a Sex on the Beach.  “I didn’t even think bartenders could talk like that!  What happened to customer service?” “Alright, princess––” “Chrissy.” “Maybe the bartenders don’t talk like that at the royal castle in the sky that you obviously floated down from,” he grinned to show her he was still joking, “but this is my bar, and I can say eye-fucking all I want.”

(completely different vibes of stories lmao)

I'm tagging anyone who wants to participate!

[bloomingstay]

favorite kpop group tag~ thank you @binniesbang!

who is your favorite kpop group?

stray kids, if that was any surprise

which member sparked your interest first?

hyunjin! i've almost always been pulled in by the dancer (lee know i know but) specifically the style of dance hyunjin excels in. the isolation is so satisfying and cool. for some reason choreo always gets a song stuck in my head??

But also!! I had heard they produced their own music and that really got me interested in kpop again

who was your first bias?

chris bang 🤍 went from zero to ult within no more than two days tbh…

what makes them your current bias?

oh god. um. i'll put this in the least embarrassing way possible. (this is a kpop tumblr blog I should probably get over it)

it was a particularly bad year. i stumbled upon their silly videos (thank you stay for the edits<3) and they made me laugh. then i started seeing clips of chans room and him interacting with the boys and just like... he's so wonderful. he's generous and kind and loving and thoughtful. just a shy lil guy who also happens to be a flirt and a fucking dork and it's cute man idk shut upp

who is your bias wrecker?

i was certain i'd never have one, i truly adore each of those boys so so much.

i was however proven wrong after a very sweet, silly compilation of binnie being ridiculous. followed by a face cam of his sclass performance in the supreme jersey?? and the curls?? he has such amazing stage presence and he's a great dancer. but he kept going from his cute sweet binnie expressions looking like he was just so into it and having fun, to the "dark rapper" eyes and commanding stage presence. and like, wow. 🖤 i am a sucker for that kind of duality.

which members are you currently obsessing over that aren't your bias/wrecker?

in another reality han is my wrecker. that boy is the epitome of what i used to look for in guys: babygirl. lol. well, and insanely talented and funny and everything. I adore him

after befriending a couple seungmin stans, i started looking for pics and clips to send them and found myself so incredibly impressed with him and touched by some of the things he's said and done. plus he’s a funny little shit.

hwang hyunjin is such a sweet boy. since we got producer jinnie on the last album i have been looking back and just so impressed with his growth 🤍

when did you first discover the group?

(Upon editing I realize I read this as ‘how’ but oh well)

okokok so

i was a kpop fan 2014-2017 and went all in. kcon and concerts the whole thing

but then i was just on my usual 6 hour yt shorts binge as i tried to fall asleep and saw skz reacting to the "your eyes" mv, specifically felix's part, obviously. i watched it like 12 times just cry laughing at han screaming, hyunjin trying to escape, channie hiding behind his hands and squealing. it was just so funny to see a group kind of clowning their own shit? i thought they were hilarious.

then i saw julien (solomita) had reacted to 'topline' and i was soooo into it. immediately went to watch some mvs and decided cool i'll be a totally normal casual fan of this group’s music….. :)

THEN a lovely lady i'd followed on my 10 year old tumblr account posted about skz. i messaged her that I’d finally decided to check them out and she was kind enough to answer questions and entertain my onslaught of messages as I screamed about how much I love these boys. and she still does everyday so. thank you hana 🌸

have you ever been to one of their concerts?

not yet~

what are some of your favorite songs by them?

THIS SECTION TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG. disclaimer: I absolutely could not include non ot8 this would’ve been 30 songs (I’m probably going to cheat)

Hall of fame. bitch ever since that live stage (which was the first time I’d heard it) I’ve listened to the sclass album 3 times a week no joke, goddamn it’s so good. so just know, i pulled almost every song from that album off this list when i made cuts

levanter. a hard pill to swallow mid relationship struggles and holds a lot of meaning for me.

secret secret. i can't get over how professional this song sounds and how it was just a few years in?

leave. where i got my username~ like I said, relationship stuff. You have not yet really bloomed When the new season comes I hope the warmth will make you bloom Into a flower that never dies

sclass. *bling bling* HIPHOPSTEP. such a fucking chaotic mess of a jam.

megaverse. the breakdown? MEGAPHONE. Han, bitch? We make the rules nobody can hold me yeaaahhh. Your body shakes - STRAY KIDS EVERYWHERE ALL AROUND THE WORLD. Sorry, flawless.

gods menu. ate, bitch. chan was something the fuck else

domino. neeed I say more

social path is bomb

grow up. read lyrics for the first time just now ow

eternity. told u I’d cheat.

love poem. big cheat my list worth it

I am going to be so mad when I realize I missed a song I listen to 7 times a day but been doin this for 2 hours so I’m calling it. Also forgive me I’m still working through the discography (backwards) and haven’t listened to the full first couple albums.

the adhd is allowing no further focus or thought so i will be tagging the same friends as my last tag post no pressure <3

@channieblossoms @skzms @roseykat @thefantasyden @seungsungracha @astraysis @channieswife

Thank you again @binniesbang for tagging me~!

[jamesunderwater]

Water - a wolfstar microfic

Modern Coffee Shop AU ~ cw: mentions of suicide as a joke, mild transphobia, misgendering, dysphoria ~ word count: 1,499 ~ @wolfstarmicrofic

“I swear to god I’m going to kill myself if another customer starts giving me their order when all I’ve asked is ‘How are you.’” I made the joke even though I knew he’d hate it. Remus Lupin takes thoughts of my death very seriously, doesn’t even laugh when I say, ‘But my death will be Sirius!’

But I mean, no pun intended, I was Sirius about the comment.

Because, look, sometimes working in customer service feels like choosing between lying on asphalt naked on a boiling summer day and just sort of…walking into traffic just to make your headache go away. 

That didn’t make sense, I know that, but I’ve worked two double shifts in as many days and I’m icing both of my feet and I wasn’t trying to upset my best friend by talking about my death by my own hand, but a woman who was almost certainly named Lauren had just completely ignored my frantic Be with you in a moment! as I nearly poured oat milk all over myself for the fourth time today to start telling me about the lavender latte she wanted ‘grande size’ when I don’t work at a Starbucks. 

“It’s still not funny,” he’d said, too busy slowly pouring steamed milk into a mug to look me in the eye, but I knew exactly the expression he’d have used if he could. 

“Fine, I’m going to scream, Shut the fuck up and wait one goddamn second or get the fuck out of the store! if another customer starts giving me their order when all I’ve asked is ‘How are you.’ Better?” I was whispering fast and sharp in his ear, ignoring the next Lauren in line who was trying to catch my eye. 

He did look up at this, lifting a brow at me, his stupid mouth smirking just enough that only I’d notice. “Slightly.”

As my manager, maybe he should have preferred I opt for suicide, but Remus Lupin isn’t a capitalist pig like that.

The line was to the door, which meant muttering benign threats of bodily harm (to myself or the customers) was only going to delay my inevitable suffering. I moved on to the next Lauren, and the next, and then the Laurens and their Boyfriends, who were usually named John, and then the Laurens and their moms, who usually looked perturbed to be in a coffee shop run by weirdo queers and eyed the mustache coming in on my face and my round cheeks, noted my voice that had the rasp of a 14-year-old boy and the cadence of someone raised to be a woman pandering to societal standards (no matter how hard I tried to drop the sound of a question mark at the end of my sentence, or encouraged myself to talk like the concept of the name Brad), and evidently deduced that I was something rather than someone so once again answered, “How are you?” with a flat-toned, “Medium latte with nonfat milk,” without meeting my (queer) eye. 

I opened my mouth, taking in a very large breath in preparation for my verbal assault, when I felt a body swerving in beside me. “How are you?” Remus asked her again, and Lauren’s Mom blinked at being asked another question. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” her words were clippy, but at least he’d gotten an answer to the world’s most useless question. “Medium latte with nonfat milk, please.”

He’d even gotten a please. 

I went to the bathroom.

When I returned, Remus asked casually, “Switch spots?” and didn’t mention that I’d just left him alone with an endless line on a Saturday morning when we didn't have a mid-shift so that I could sulk in the bathroom for five minutes, because again, he isn’t a capitalist pig. And also, he is kind of a saint. 

So I made oat milk cappuccinos for people that asked us to put vanilla in them–in a cappuccino–for the next two hours until my brain slid out my ears, down my arms and into the espresso drain.

And then—

“Excuse me,” someone said in a tone that sounded very much like they did not care if anyone ever excused them, “I think she made my drink wrong. I was supposed to have a large oat milk latte. This is medium, and I’m pretty sure it’s whole milk.”

She made my drink wrong, she made my drink wrong, she made my drink wrong, my shoulders were so stiff they must have touched my ears. I looked down at my black tank top and my cut off shorts and my black doc martens and wondered if I should have washed my binders last night after all because maybe it wasn’t constricting my chest enough? I hadn’t even spoken, what did I do wrong? What did I do to earn she?

Remus leaned over the register, taking the cup from the customer. “He did not make your drink wrong. I called this drink out, a medium latte for Cathy. Your drink is a large oat milk latte for…” He checked the tickets waiting on the counter. “Helen?” The customer nodded, wide-eyed. “Yeah, your drink is still third in line.”

“Oh…” Helen sputtered, actively not looking at me. “I apologize, I didn’t realize.”

“Alright, well, we need to serve the next customer, so if you could just stand…” Remus gestured toward the other side of the bar, and Helen nodded, stepping back.

Even though the next person stepped forward, Remus turned to me. He didn’t ask with words, just his soft eyebrows. 

I shrugged. “One more hour, right?”

At least, in the last hour, the lobby area was so full that many people opened the door and walked right back out. My feet ached so much I had to bounce between them for a moment of relief, my back pain was flaring up from my binder, and the clattering sounds from multiple groups’ loud chatter mixed with the music playing over the speakers created the most grating noise I’ve possibly ever heard.

When Marlene and Dorcas got there to take over for us, I almost kissed them on their beautiful lesbian mouths. 

“That bad, huh?” Marls asked as she clocked in. 

“What?” I questioned.

“You didn’t make a quippy joke when I came in, didn’t make up a song about how hard the day was, didn’t compliment my new shoes. You’re truly dead inside, so it must’ve been a rough shift.”

“Could’ve been dead on the outside, but Remus wouldn’t allow it.”

“I’ll be thanking him for that, then.”

“You ready?” He came up from behind me, touching my elbow just slightly. Somehow, even after a grueling morning with no mid-shift on an overly warm Saturday when we could have been lying out on the grass somewhere getting actual vitamin D, Remus was smiling, and his eyes meant it.

Like I said. Saint.

When we got into his car, he started it and cranked the air, but didn’t move to leave the lot. Leaning back in his seat, his shoulders facing forward, he rolled his head to look at me. “Wanna talk about it?”

I didn’t. But I did. Mostly I wanted to be around him as long as possible.

“There’s not much to say, right? Whatever. I don’t pass, it is what it is.”

He didn’t say anything.

“It’s just so fucking annoying that you pass so well,” I said, not thinking about it, and only heard how it sounded a few moments after. I winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, just, like, that woman you took over for me with, she even said please to you, when she couldn’t be bothered with me at all. Like, she fully thought you were a cis guy! I just don’t understand what I have to do!” 

I hadn’t meant to get that worked up, but I’ll admit it now, I was nearly crying, the words clogging up my throat, each and every side glance and double take at the sound of my voice clawing its way out of the recesses of my disassociated mind. 

He reached a hand over the center console, hovering it over the hand I had resting on my water bottle, our silent way to ask, Can I touch you? I lifted my hand up to meet his in response.

“I’m sorry, Sirius. This part of transitioning just…sucks.” His fingers were warm resting directly over mine, and I think I stopped noticing the pain in my back, my feet, my mind as much. “It’ll get easier eventually, but–yeah, until then,” he pressed his hand more firmly against mine, “I’m here.”

Anyway, Prongs, I think what I’m trying to say is I might be falling in love with my coworker/boss/best friend, and, um, help?

(Also, god I want to quit my job.)

(Also also, like exactly how bad would it be if I gave myself three T shots in one sitting?)

Terrified, Tired, Still Icing My Feet, Padfoot

FIN

A/N: DO NOT take more HRT than is prescribed to you by your doctor, no matter how much you want to, trust me, I've done it and I only got chastised and fucked my system up a bit. Also, would you guys want to read more of this little fic? No idea where it'd go, but I am fond of any iteration of wolfstar, so naturally I've already fallen in love with them. (Which is a little self-absorbed of me since Sirius was....heavily based on my own experience.) That being said, I did want to say that the customers at my coffee shop are much better than this--this was really more emulating the experience of working for Starbucks. 😆 all the hugs to my trans sibs reading this &lt;3

[kindnessisweakness2]

1

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Noah groaned loudly. Jax and Tig turned and went to ask him whats wrong but Noah, their recently patched member of Samcro, was already making his way out of the TM Garage. There was a girl making her way across the lot, swinging a baseball bat from her shoulders. She wore black vans, blue denim shorts and a white vest top. Tattoos littered one leg completely and the thigh of her other. Her arms were also covered but she was too far to see the designs properly. She was beautiful, her hair was dyed a bright purple on one side and black on the other and it was tied up in a messy bun. If she didnt have a face full of anger Jax would definitely of hit on her. “You cheating fucking scumbag.” The scream from the girl got the rest of the clubs attention as they made their way out of the clubhouse. Even Gemma came out of her office. “Em please! I dont know what your talking about!” The girl laughed in Noahs face. “Oh so your gonna try and lie to me again? I FOUND HER FUCKING UNDERWEAR IN OUR BED YOU PRICK!” Jax watched as the girl swung at Noah’s bike, taking the wing mirror clean off. “Get the fuck away from my bike you psycho!” Noah shouted. “OH YOU MEAN THE BIKE I FUCKING PAID FOR?” The girl took another swing at the bike, this time taking the other wing mirror and headlight out in one. “Yeah tell your little fucking biker buddies, how you wouldnt even have a bike if it wasnt for me! Tell them that the subs you pay them each week come out of my fucking paycheck!” Swinging at the bike again, the girl took the exhaust clean off. “ Thats what you do to me is it Noah? I support you. Pay for all your shit, pick up after you like your a goddamn child and you have the fucking Nerve to cheat on me? In my own fucking home!” The girl pulled a pen knife from her pocket and slashed both of Noahs tyres. “No baby! i didnt! I wouldnt!” Noah tried to reason with her but clearly it was getting him nowhere. “Your fucking pathetic.” The girl pulled a pair of underwear from her pocket and threw it in Noah’s face. “I bet you gave her the best 5 seconds of her whole life. Newsflash mate, your shit in bed. If you fucked her like you fucked me she probably had to go to the bathroom after to finish what you couldnt.” Noah went bright red at the insult and Jax couldnt help but laugh. The girl turned her attention towards him and made her way over. “I suggest when you next pick someone to join your club, dont pick a lying prick who doesnt even own the bike he sits on.” And with that, the girl turned and made her way out of the lot. 

Clay shook his head at Noah. “Church now.” He called and everyone started making their way into the Clubhouse. “I like her. Shes spunky!” Jax shook his head at his moms comment. Ofcourse Gemma likes the new Psychopath in charming.  Making his way into the meeting room, he took his VP seat next to Clay and watched the chaos unfold. "So your telling me your girl has been paying your way? That's a fucking joke Noah." Every member of the group nodded in agreement. Yeah sure alot of them stepped out on their old ladies, especially with the road rule. But living off your woman and cheating in your home town? That was a no no. "Look, she supported me. With everything. She pays my subs and yes she owns the bike. Even gives me fuel money for the runs we go on. I didn't mean to get caught cheating. I thought I was on Top of it. Never thought she would find out." Jax shook his head at Noah's admission. "It's not that she found out Asshole! It's how you've treated her. A good woman that supports you like that is hard to fucking come by! The road rule is there for a reason! Fuck half of us round this table would kill for an old lady like that. But the fact is, a man that dont pay his way aint a man at all!" Piney snapped at a panicked looking Noah. Piney rarely spoke but everyone knew the level of anger that old man could reach, oxygen tank or not. Noah fell silent at Piney’s Outburst. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? “Your busted back to prospect.” Clay announced before taking a drag on his Cigar. Noah’s eyes widened, “Thats fucking Bullshit! I’ve not even had my patch 3 months!” Tig’s eyes glossed over in anger as he watched the newbie shout at his president. Reaching out, he grabbed the back of Noah’s neck and slammed his face on the Redwood Table. “Did you just raise your voice at your president?” Noah squirmed against Tigs hold. “Now, you either prospect for another 18 months, pay your own fucking way and earn your patch back. Or you leave, and you know what happens then.” Clay gave Noah the ultimatum and the rest of the club fell silent as they waited for Noah to make his choice. “I’ll Stay.” Tig Released his hold on the young lad before pulling him up by his kutte and roughly dragging it from his shoulders. Happy smirked as he threw a prospect kutte in Noahs face before Tig Pushed him out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Jax looked at Clay confused. “We’re really gonna give him another chance? He doesnt even own a bike?” Clay shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone around this table knows he’s gonna fuck up. Especially not having that girl keeping him in line. But when he fucks up i want him close, where i can see it and deal with it. We really do not need a loose cannon right now. Anyway, go see that girl. All her details are on the paperwork for the bike, Gemma’s gonna need to know what to do with it.” Jax shook his head in disbelief at Clay. He couldnt believe it. Noah should be kicked out of this clubhouse head fucking first. He didnt earn his place in this club, his woman did. He also couldnt believe the nerve of being ordered to visit the firecracker that was this girl. For all he knew, she would never want to see a Son’s of Anarchy Patch again. So Clay really was throwing him in the line of fire here. 

However, despite his obvious disagreement, Jax got up from his seat at the table and made his way out of the clubhouse. The only thing he could think on his way out of Teller Morrow was maybe he should’ve stopped for his bulletproof vest. 

Pulling up to the address that his mum text him, Jax was Suprised at how quiet it was. Considering her performance at the lot earlier, he was expecting screaming and a trashed house. Instead he found her sat on her front porch quietly smoking a cigarette. "Hey" he spoke softly as he approached her. Like she was a wounded animal that could kick out in fear and pain at any moment. She looked up at him through glossy eyes. Her cheeks were red and hair falling out of her messy bun, but despite her upset appearance Jax still thought she was beautiful. That couldn't be denied. "Hi, look I'm sorry for my outburst today-" she started to explain, but Jax cut her off quickly. “Dont Sweat it Darlin’. From what i heard, he deserved it.” He spoke as he took a seat next to her on the porch steps. Pulling a cigarette out of his pocket he lit it and took a few puffs. “I’ve been sent to ask what you want doing with the bike. It aint his and after everything the clubs not letting him keep it. Your names on the paperwork, so what do you want doing to it?” Jax watched as she rolled her eyes. “What the fuck am i gonna do with a Harley? Just Fix it and sell it. Strip it for parts. Fuck burn it for all i care.” She shrugged at Jax’s shocked expression. “Thats an expensive Bike, surely your gonna want it back?” Jax tried to encourage her to take the bike. “Yeah, ofcourse it was expensive. But i honestly couldnt give a shit. You like it, you  have it.” Jax raised his hands in mock surrender as the anger in the girls eyes flashed. “Okay Darlin’ you win. You’ll have to come by the garage tomorrow tho. Sign the bike over.” She sighed and pushed her fallen hair behind her ear. “Yeah, sure.” Jax stood and started to make his way down the path towards his bike. “Oh and my name aint Darlin’ either.” She called after him making him turn to face her. “Its Emily.” 

*******************************************************************************************

Hi Guys,

This is something new I’ve been working on. I have 2 more chapters if you turn out to like it. Please please let me know what you think!!

Love to you all!!  

[amethystina]

Hello !!! I hope u r well and recovering 💘

Fir the ask game: 🤡❌️👀

Unfortunately, things are still pretty rough but I'm hanging in there :)

🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?

I'm not sure if there is such a line, to be honest. Mainly because most of the things I write aren't all that funny, but also because it takes a lot for me to laugh when it's my own writing. Because I already know the punchline before the joke's even started, so it's just not that exciting. If that makes sense?

That said, Yoon Sa Wol from Black Knight is an absolute hoot to write and there is one exchange in particular that definitely makes me want to cackle whenever I think about it. It's when he's talking to 4-1 (a coworker of his) and they accidentally stumble onto the subject of whether or not Sa Wol could have sex with 5-8 (the dude he is definitely interested in having sex with) and the following happens:

All things considered, it didn't seem like a bad idea at all. 4-1 didn't seem to agree. She gave him a flat look, as if the answer should be obvious. "He'd eat you for breakfast." Sa Wol paused for a beat but, really, the only thing he could think to say was: "I mean, wouldn't that be the whole point?" 4-1 let out a choked noise that sounded outright painful.

SA WOL, NO.

But also, kudos on being so goddamn shameless.

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

I'm not sure if there is one? Because, sure, I'm not personally into mpreg or A/B/O but I can't say I'll never write them. Like, if someone gave me enough money to write those tropes, I probably would. We get money where we can in this economy xD

I think the closest I come to a complete "I refuse to write this" are the things I find triggering or just don't agree with on a moral level. So I'd have a hard time glorifying abuse, for example, or write something that involves incest or non-con between a romantic couple. The kind where transgressions are eventually forgiven or brushed aside because "they actually love them and it was just a mistake" and that kind of stuff.

There's a reason why I'm so determined to call out Yo Han's bullshit in my Devil Judge fics, for example, and why Moon Jo is such a lovesick simp in my Strangers From Hell fic. I find them to be incredibly fascinating as characters, but I admit I would never be able to write them doing something along those lines. They both skirt the line from time to time — which is sort of the point in some ways — but I try to criticise the behaviour rather than excuse or glorify it.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I kind of mentioned all of them when I did the WIP Tag Game not too long ago, so you can see what they are and read about them if you look at this tag right here!

But aside from that, I can say that I'm currently trying to edit and post chapter six of A New Dawn (Begins With Us), and, after that, I'm going to try and edit chapter 3 of The Right Set of Circumstances, and, after that, I... well, I don't know x'D I'll either try to edit Thou Shalt Not Covet or maybe I'll allow myself to write chapter 42 of Who Holds the Devil.

I'm kind of holding that chapter hostage right now since I HATE editing and would much rather write — it's just so much more fun. But if I only wrote and didn't edit, I would never post anything, so I kind of have to force myself to edit from time to time, too.

And it's extra annoying right now since I'm so feverish and that just makes editing ten times worse for some reason?

So yeah. I have a lot going on right now in terms of WIPs and it's kind of beginning to feel like a second job, not going to lie x'D

Thank you so much for the ask! :D

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

[tennessoui]

The way your snippet through me back into the hunger games au, and I LOVE it

I need an obi wan pov because they both have rose tinted glasses for each other in this au to an extent and we can all see how obis glasses are rose tinted (to ignore the blood splatters), but I need to see how low-key psycho obi is in realityyyyy

I think my fav joke of any fanfic is Anakin in that first snippet with the “ethics board”, don’t know why but I was laughing so hard at that.

(Remember when you said if you finished one WIP you might have room for more…)

Love the idea of in quarter quell one tribute sees obi wan, back turned, he could totally knife him, and then remembers during training how Anakin had stormed in, taken out a slew of the hologram men without breaking a sweat in under 10 seconds flat, and then grabbed obi wan and kissed him in front of all the mentors, tributes and peacekeepers, before glaring at everyone in the goddam room. It took an hour for anyone to move, and no one is going after obi wan after that, never mind how all their mentors went white at the mention of Anakins name.

Then Obi wan snaps in the arena and badges someone face in so bad he’s unrecognisable and everyone decides they value life too much for the crazy that is those two

I’m in love with them both being a little psychotically in love with each otherrrr

This comment is already too long (I have so many thoughts about this au I love it so muchhhhhh (Anakin murdering children then sleeping soundly at night, while obi wan shoulders all his crimes as his own guilt is SO obikin, but he’s also out here low-key psychotic as well (cough cough TCW obi wan with his goddamn war crimes) I love ittttt

I feel like there are so many good options for a hunger games au obi-wan pov!!! Off the top of my head: obi-wan when anakin kisses him for the first time, obi-wan as the mentor when anakin is in his games, trying to convince possible sponsors that anakin loves Robin but also that he’ll go far in the games and they should support him (&the pain of having to really pretend the only person to love him loves someone else), obi-wan volunteering for anakin even though he made anakin promise not to volunteer for him during the quarter quell reaping, obi-wan’s pov of immediately afterwards too when anakin corners him to scream and yell and cry at him and wondering if this is what fear of anakin feels like because anakin has never looked at him so meanly with so much promised violence, obi-wan’s pov of the games and killing people because he wants to come back to anakin as much as he wanted anakin to come back to him a year ago……..

Soooo many options for a good obi-wan pov especially of obi-wan having his own perceptions of anakin ripped away from him during anakin’s games and the lead up to anakins games but then also being a different kind of psychotic himself because he can’t imagine giving up a love as addicting as anakin’s now that he’s found it