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kisskissbanggang · 2 years ago

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Jumpspace Renegade - ep. 11 ✨🚀

[5.1k words, <20 min. read - Stray Kids Multi Fic, Scifi!au, Choose Your Own Adventure - SFW/Smut in Other Chapters - Mentions of Changlix, Navigating Feelings, Unexpectedly Not as Exciting as Some Characters are Hoping, Minho is Getting Restless, Minho is Also Indeed Still Acting Weird, Rescue Missions, Prison Breaks, Hints of Motives, Crumbs of Backstory, Dumb and Unusual Punishment, Loyalty Crisis, We’re Still on the Ocean Planet, Mentions of Blood, Scifi Guns, Always Check the Tags]

[Episodes on Fridays 7pm pst, Polling closes Saturdays 7pm pst]

[Series Masterlist | Come Say Hi!]

“Do you think you’re in a place to be making demands?” Chan was pissed. The bounty was asking for a goddamn cabin?

Minho cocked his head, almost taunting the captain. “Do you want your appraiser back? Ask Nova. She’ll tell you I'm the best bet you have.”

Both men looked at you then. You took a brief, deep breath.

“Minho should be compensated. You’re having him help bring back Hyunjin, and who knows what kind of mess he’s in. Making the bounty do work for nothing is just slave labor,” you determined. Chan reeled. Minho grinned.

“But-!” you added.

A mutual pause struck them both.

“Obviously,” you continued, “there should be conditions.”

“Oh really,” Chan and Minho said in unison. The captain was smug. The bounty was the one reeling now.

“Yes!” you confirmed. “Minho should be locked in and out at all times.”

He grumbled under his breath at this, gaze set hard on Chan even though you were the one coming up with this garbage. “Fine,” he sighed.

“What else?” Chan asked.

“What else?!” Minho repeated, whining.

“And–” you floundered. “And, and… and! To continue paying for this upgrade, you’re on-call for medic duty and other auxiliary crew assignments, like this.”

Chan clapped his hands together. “Yes, even better.”

Minho scoffed hard. “You’re a fucking piece of work, Captain.”

“And you’re a piece of shit!” Chan retorted. “Do you want the cabin or not?! This was your brilliant idea.”

“Yeah,” Minho huffed, “and my next brilliant idea is to put my foot up your ass.”

Chan groaned and pointed accusingly. “Holy shit you’re so annoying, I should’ve fucking shot you when you asked me to! I have half a mind to–”

“Oh my god,” you interrupted, “would both of you shut UP?”

Thankfully, this seemed to do the trick. You turned to Minho. “You want to make it to Daedalus in one piece, don’t you?”

Minho’s glare could kill. Chan paused again.

“... Interesting. You want to go to Daedalus, Lee?”

You winced in realization before turning back to face the captain.

“Uh, obviously,” you floundered. “Minho’s fiance is there, laying low until he gets back.”

Chan raised an extremely dubious eyebrow. “Fiance,” he repeated, unbelieving.

Jeongin chuckled, still lurking in the doorway of the medical office. “Fiance?” he also parroted. “It’s not Momo, is it?”

“Momo would never go back to Daedalus,” Chan shook his head. His gaze fell on you now, wondering where the hell you would get an idea as stupid as covering for Minho.

“Fine,” Minho relented. “I’ll do it.”

This seemed to pacify the captain. “Glad that’s settled,” he casually nodded as he turned to leave the med bay. “Our ground clearance expires at nightfall, so you have the whole afternoon if you need. Now get the hell out of here.”

“Well, hold on–” Minho added.

Chan paused.

“You’re asking me to go out there with no cover, and you haven’t cashed your bounty yet. Can I at least get my obfuscator back?”

The captain thought about this and shrugged. “Smartest thing you’ve said since you’ve been on this ship. Knock yourself out.” He strolled over to a locker built into the wall at the top of the spiral staircase and beeped it open. Inside was a satchel, which Chan pawed around in. He retrieved a small pendant and tossed it back to Minho.

“What’re the chances of getting my bag back before Daedalus?”

“Doubtful,” Chan shook his head. “What are my chances of you thanking me?”

“Doubtful,” Minho mocked. He pocketed the pendant and grabbed your hand before pulling you down the stairs with him.

“What about you thanking me?” you teased him.

Minho stopped dead before wheeling on you, pulling you onto the same step he stood on and herding you against the wall of the stairwell. You felt your eyes widen when he leaned in. “I’m sure my new fiance will be thrilled to hear you got me better accommodations,” he finally retorted, voice low and ominous, but still somehow reminding you of your rendezvous the other morning.

You got over yourself. Based on everything you'd seen so far, Minho was all bark and no bite. You tiptoed up to kiss his cheek, predictably breaking his concentration. Minho wrinkled his nose and swatted you off before turning to reach the galley floor.

“I said no more of that,” he badgered back over his shoulder. “Just, ugh, don’t overdo the cover story next time.”

“Yes sir,” you complied, only slightly rolling your eyes. He did have a point.

Minho’s expression over his shoulder turned into a smirk. “Sir? I like that.”

He paused by the table in the galley, with Seungmin still peacefully passed out in the booth.

“What’s the story here?” Minho asked, jabbing a thumb in his direction.

“Not sure,” you answered. “Changbin and Jeongin said there’d been a misunderstanding when he went to drop off the charts for his clients.”

Minho drew out a pen light, likely swiped from a drawer in the med office, and stooped down to get a better look at the navigator.

“I’d love to know what kind of misunderstanding it was,” he casually remarked. He gently ran a fingertip through a dark blue smudge on Seungmin’s glasses and rubbed it between his fingers before smelling it and ultimately tasting it, much to your horror. He reeled for a moment, face scrunched in regret. “Holy shit,” he laughed. “This is Azure. You know what that is?”

You blankly shook your head, feeling a bit dumb and naive once again.

“Makes sense,” Minho assured you. “It’s made of ink from a specific type of sea cucumber in the subarctic seas here, so it doesn’t go off-planet that often.”

“What is it?” you asked curiously.

“At its most innocent? Party drug. College kids and marines on surface leave love the stuff, but I never understood the appeal,” the bounty explained. “At its worst? Well… you know.”

“Oof,” you winced. “So with Seungmin… You don’t think–”

“Nothing nefarious,” Minho quickly reassured you. “Again, the Phaborians are largely against violence. If the guys say there was a misunderstanding, I'm guessing the navvy’s clients originally intended to tranq’ a possible threat to play it safe.”

“So he’s fine?” you implored. You tried not to sound worried.

“Yeah, hun,” Minho nodded. “He’ll wake up with a pounder of a headache and a wicked case of minor amnesia, but he’ll be fine.”

Finally pleased with his diagnosis, Minho followed you out to the workshop. You tried to ignore a dot of Felix's blood on the floor at the top of the ramp. Instead, you let yourself be entertained by how Minho apparently knew how to access the weapons rack behind its hidden door. You were interested to see what he’d grab, and were somehow not surprised to see it was only a single blaster before he closed the rack again. He clipped on the pendant that Chan had returned to him while you ventured down the ramp together, tucking the thing into the collar of his shirt.

“So,” you started, but stopped short. It was hard not to feel like you were being a pain despite your curiosity. You pointed at the pendant. “What exactly does that do?”

“You've never seen an obfuscator?” Minho chuckled. “That’s surprising. I bought mine in T’kaarm.”

“Don’t make me feel dumb,” you whined. More and more, you were being proven to not even be as street smart as you originally thought. Reaching the end of the ramp, you led him around to where you left the four-wheeler.

“Calm down,” laughed Minho. “You know how most facial scanners are affected by interference or distortion maybe once every ten times?”

“Sure,” you nodded. Obviously.

He pointed at the pendant. “This thing spews out a cloud of interference, it’s like a portable data jammer–”

“That’s what that does?” came a voice unexpectedly. You both jumped and searched, quickly finding the cabin boy gingerly closing the sub-hatch door to the cargo hold.

“Jeongin?!” you asked, still a bit startled. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Chan’s crazy if he thinks Seungmin needs watching,” he heatedly explained. “Seungmin needs sleep and Jisung still isn't back! Can you give me a ride to the market?”

You and Minho traded glances. Jeongin had a perfectly good reason to go from the sound of it, but it was pretty clear he snuck out–

“You were dropping off the payload with the navigator?” Minho asked, interrupting your deliberation.

Jeongin nodded in response, confused. What did that have to do with anything?

Nevertheless, this was apparently the right answer. Minho waved him over with a nod while shooing you away from the seat or the four-wheeler.

“What,” you scoffed, “you don’t trust me?”

Minho tickled your waist, the same move as earlier, to get you out of the way before he sat down at the handlebars. “There’s plenty of room for you behind me if you want. You can cuddle up real cozy.”

You swiftly punched Minho in the shoulder before sitting down on the mudguard. For wanting to curtail any fooling around, your alliance with Minho apparently did not forbid occasional flirting.

Jeongin’s eyes awkwardly darted between you two before hopping on as well, just before Minho set off to take you back to the market. Maybe it was the new surroundings, maybe it was the events of the day, but it felt like you'd been on Phaborus for weeks. The sunlight on the water was gorgeous as it just started to set. Really, you were beginning to regret you didn't have any time to actually put your feet in the water.

Rude as ever, Minho interrupted your sightseeing. He shot a look back at Jeongin.

“Alright. You gotta know what happened to knock out the navvy.”

“What,” Jeongin ogled with a laugh, “you want the gossip or something?! I have no clue, dude. Changbin and I were waiting out in the lobby. Seungmin was taking his meeting solo, and suddenly we hear yelling and this bang like a blaster or something.”

“Oh shit,” Minho remarked. “You think Seungmin pulled a gun?”

“Seungmin?!” Jeongin wheezed. “He'd never. No, I assume it was a capsule gun or something, something to aim the Azure. Changbin and I barged in when we heard it.”

“And?” you asked, more intrigued now.

Jeongin shrugged. “They were checking his charts and pockets and apologized. And then we left.”

“Oh my god,” Minho groaned. “That’s it?! You’re the most boring crew I've ever met.”

The bounty paused when he pulled you up to the market, at a similar spot to where Felix had parked that morning. He pointed past Jeongin's direction.

“Go on,” he directed. “Get. Don't come back unless you have Jisung or a juicier story.”

Jeongin’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. Still, he waved goodbye before venturing off into the market. Minho got your attention again. This time, he was pointing at an open air restaurant at the edge of the marketplace.

“I went on my first date there,” he serenely explained. He didn't give you a chance to even digest that properly before he revved the engine and took off again, but it stuck with you. You tried imagining Minho as a teenager, head in the clouds instead of invested in civil uprising, maybe even bashful and shy on a date.

You were preoccupied, feeling a little mentally exhausted when Minho pulled up to the temple. The feelings of ease and curiosity that shaded your previous trip here were replaced with wariness and paranoia. This had gone so wrong earlier that suddenly, there was no doubt in your mind that it wouldn’t get any better or easier. Minho seemed to sense this, judging by the way that he hesitated when he got off the four-wheeler. He was, as always, surprisingly gentle with you. A mindful finger nudged under your chin brought your momentarily unfocused stare to his eyes. The setting sun reflected beautifully off the circuitry in Minho’s otherwise rich, dark gaze.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

You nodded in acknowledgement but pushed Minho’s hand away nonetheless. “We need to get Hyunjin back,” you reasoned.

“It’s not like you know him or anything,” Minho reminded you.

“Sure,” you nodded, “but we’re a crew. Tell me the plan.”

Minho’s normally hard expression softened a little and he let you hop off the four-wheeler. He checked the charge on his blaster. “My plan, honestly, is that we storm the place and start firing if we don’t get any answers–”

“Oh no, I don’t think so!” came a familiar voice from the temple.

The old priest was standing by the door, arms folded across her chest.

Minho was a bit caught off-guard by this. So were you, to be honest, but you weren’t the one preparing for a firefight. He gave you a dubious look before he walked over. Soon enough, Minho and the priest were having a heated discussion, both squaring off with their stances, pointing any which way, pointing at you, and nearly shouting at each other – all in Phaborian. You’d thought it earlier, but this practically confirmed Minho being modest about his abilities when you first mentioned stopping at the Hatchery. But soon, with the bickering and discussing and arguing seemingly past, the tall, elderly priest placed her hand on Minho’s head, seemingly reciting a small rite or brief blessing before sternly dismissing him, back in your direction. The whole exchange had taken minutes.

“So about your firefight…” you smirked.

“It sounded so much more grave up until now!” Minho reeled. “They did the respectful thing and dumped him. Your appraiser is in jail at the port authority.”

“Is that far?” you worried.

Minho scoffed. “Not at all. It’s on the other side of the market.”

This time, hopping on the four-wheeler, you surprised Minho by sliding onto the seat behind him, calling his earlier bluff. When he questioned it, you teased that it was for better balance. He didn’t argue when you wrapped your arms around his middle for more security. Cutting through the market this time meant Minho was patiently weaving through swaths of passerby. You nudged your chin closer to Minho’s ear, asking him if Phaborus still felt the same as when he was younger.

“As similar as it can when you’re older,” he shrugged. “Everything feels smaller, more quaint, I guess. I missed it, though. Feels like going back to a simpler time.”

“Simpler all around?” you asked. “Or simpler for you?”

“Simple for me,” Minho admitted. “I don’t think I’ve let myself have a simple notion in years.”

A blaring horn behind you alerted Minho to a coming vehicle, moving much faster than the crowd. He navigated to the side of the road as much as possible, a tall task for a crowded street, but managed to get out of the way just in time for a speedbike to come blazing through.

With Jeongin riding it.

He noticed you both, too, judging by the way he braked suddenly. Now that the bike wasn’t in motion, you recognized it as the one Jisung had been using.

“Where are you going?” you called over.

“I’m trying to follow some leads!” Jeongin answered while Minho pulled up alongside him, yelling over the ambient cacophony of the market along with both your idling engines.

“No luck?” Minho asked him.

“Folks have seen him,” answered Jeongin. “I didn’t bring a headset with me so I’m working with a language barrier. But he’s been around, and I don’t think he’s made any positive impressions by the sound of it.”

“Finally,” Minho sighed. “Something exciting, hopefully. Come with us to the port authority. We can get your appraiser and if Jisung has been getting into trouble, they might know about it.”

“Is Hyunjin in jail?” Jeongin grinned. He laughed out loud when you nodded. “I gotta see this,” he explained. “Hyunjin is either the king of the drunk tank or dying of germ exposure.”

You traded glances with Minho again before gesturing for Jeongin to follow along. It turned out you weren’t much further to the port authority, and it was only a couple minutes more before you were able to park outside. Unlike the gorgeously amber-hued clay buildings of the Hatchery with their storm windows and alternating roofs of tin or tile, the Federation installations were all a gross combination of concrete and steel. The port authority jail wasn’t an exception, it being a sterile looking building that was probably enjoying a break from the typically unrelenting rain.

The clerk was a bored, likely conscripted Phaborian, looking through paperwork when the three of you came in. There was no greeting, no acknowledgement.

“Officer, we’re looking for a crew member,” Minho confidently began.

The young Phaborian, masculine in stature, looked up at him. “And you’re…?”

“First Mate Lee, tradeship Ambler.”

Jeongin raised an amused eyebrow at you from where you both flanked Minho. The clerk tapped into a computer.

“And you’re missing…?”

“Hwang? Hyunjin? We think we lost him during surface leave at the start of the day.”

“Found him,” the clerk boredly remarked. “Can’t release him yet, sir.”

“What?!” Minho sputtered. He leaned forward, striking up another hushed argument in Phaborian with the clerk this time. The language was difficult to parse out tone from, but whatever Minho was saying to the clerk, it involved some elaborate hand gesturing and emphatic repetition. At one point, you could’ve sworn Minho was miming a stabbing motion. The clerk finally reacted somewhat interestingly, eyes widening before he ultimately nodded. He tapped into the computer some more and pulled out some paperwork to sign before scurrying to a back office.

Minho sighed and turned around, leaning back on the desk. “This is garbage,” he whined. “I’m paying for room and board on my way to a prison sentence with this?”

“What’d you tell him?” you asked.

You were met with a shrug from Minho. “It was an easy story. They think Hyunjin did it, and they just want him to say sorry. So I said he did it. And that he was deeply ashamed about stealing it, but he was in a sordid affair with a rich woman who betrayed him, and maybe it made him a little crazy, so he just decided to return it.”

Jeongin was failing to hold in a snicker. “He’s going to love this.”

“Why lie?” you balked.

“Too much back and forth,” Minho tiredly explained.

The clerk came back with a huge officer who ushered the three of you back into a row of holding cells. Hyunjin, unlike Jeongin’s prediction, was not king of the drunk tank or apparently dying from germ exposure. Instead, the appraiser was napping, sitting up against the wall in the first cell, sporting a bandage on his jaw that could possibly have been hiding a bruise or other small injury. A much heftier dressing adorned his hand where he’d been shot back at the temple. The officer banged on the bars, roughly rousing Hyunjin from his rest, but he quickly woke up upon seeing you all. He hopped to his feet and grabbed his bag. The officer opened the door for him and stepped aside, letting him through with ease. Hyunjin was very confused why the officer gave him a pitying look as he passed.

“Is that all you’ll be needing?” the officer asked.

“We should be fine,” you replied, feeling more like you were checking out at a hotel. You regarded your compatriots. “That’s all we needed, right?”

Everyone shrugged. You were ready to leave, until a voice rang out down the aisle.

“Nova? Guys?!”

You and the rest of your party processed this for a moment.

Jisung.

You would’ve thought you’d realized first if Jeongin didn’t run right away.

Sure enough, there was Jisung in the last holding cell. His enhanced eye had apparently been punched at some point. He clung onto the bars when you all arrived.

“When did you get here?!” Hyunjin ogled.

“When the fuck did you get here?” Jisung asked in return.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the officer ushered you all away from the cell. “Not him.”

“Why?” asked Jeongin.

“Still doing paperwork. But he should be fine tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? Not good, you realized. Chan had told you the ground clearance would expire at nightfall.

Minho’s lips brushed your ear. “Pretend to be Jisung’s wife,” he instructed in a whisper.

You shot him an entirely involuntary but very necessary glare in refusal. “What? Why?!” you demanded.

The bounty rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

In a stunning theatrical display, Minho reached for the bars and immediately began arguing with the officer now, really playing up something supposedly personal and emotional before the officer gave up with a sigh. He begrudgingly opened Jisung’s cell, too, and Minho dramatically collapsed inside, cradling Jisung’s confused face and kissing him full on the lips. Jisung exclaimed, muffled by Minho’s mouth before falling backwards. Minho hauled him up to his feet and profusely thanked the officer over and over and over again while pushing all of you back out to the lobby.

Minho continued to graciously thank the officer while he tried to pass the clerk’s desk with no trouble, too, but that was too good of a hope to come true. The front doors barred shut with a heavy clank. You all panicked, looking for what reason there could be to still be here… until the clerk held out a hand.

“1,200 Credits,” he boredly requested, holding out a number pad. A deathly silence fell over the lobby.

“... For what?” you finally asked.

“His–” he pointed at Hyunjin, “damage to the temple.”

“And Jisung?” Minho asked, amused.

The clerk pulled out a report. “Han, Jisung,” he read, “responsible for damage to five market stalls, one restaurant, and three civilian vehicles.”

Jeongin and Hyunjin were practically rolling on the floor with this revelation. And Minho was nearly about to launch into yet another cloying argument–

–when the lanky cabin boy simply walked up, wiping away a hysterical tear, and punched in his credit number.

The four of you: Minho, Jisung, Hyunjin, and you, all traded bewildered looks at the exchange. Afterwards, the clerk still had his hand outstretched when you finally realized. You pulled the pendant out of its pocket in your waist pack and handed it to him. He briefly marveled at it before delicately placing it into a locked drawer.

With the clerk satisfied, he waved over Hyunjin and Jisung, who had their faces scanned before the doors unlocked.

You all felt a bit dazed when you left the small jail. There were a few more questions humming around your head. What exactly did Minho tell the cop to get Jisung out of holding early? What the hell did Jisung get into that got him that heavy of a price tag to get out? Because a majority of that couldn’t have been Hyunjin. And where the fuck did Jeongin get all that money?!

“What the hell was the tortured lovers routine for?” Jeongin snorted.

Minho’s eyes rolled back in his skull. “Holy shit,” he impatiently blustered. “There’s a theme here, can’t you tell?! The Phaborians value love and relationships above anything, that’s what makes them so peaceful but also fucking terrifying if you mess with them–”

“But I didn’t get a smooch,” Hyunjin pouted. Jeongin howled another laugh beside him.

“Want one?” Minho shot back. “Come here, I’ll even – what do you think you’re doing?”

Jisung was about to get on the speedbike when Minho stopped him.

“Sorry, dear,” Jisung sardonically answered.

“Get your ass over here,” Minho demanded. “Someone has to have a juicy fucking story for me or I will lose it.”

“Yeah, I have some questions, too,” Hyunjin ribbed, sitting himself down in his same spot from the morning.

“What about us?!” you asked, gesturing to Jeongin. Jisung reluctantly sat himself across from Hyunjin.

“I dunno. Meet us there!” Minho gleefully yelled, revving his engine and speeding off.

You turned to see Jeongin patting the seat of the speedbike. “Room for two,” he grinned.

Fair enough, you reasoned. You’d hardly interacted with Jeongin at all since you’d arrived. He straddled the bike before you and waited until you settled in before he also gunned it out onto the main road. Unlike riding with Minho earlier, this proximity felt a bit more sudden. The sun on the water was gorgeous as it was setting. But now you were burning with curiosity.

“So…” you began, holding Jeongin around his middle as platonically as you could. “You’re, uhm, fucking loaded with cash?”

You could feel Jeongin laugh, the way his broad shoulders shook. “I guess so?”

“And despite this,” you continued, “you’re cool being a cabin boy?”

“As opposed to what?” Jeongin asked over his shoulder. Just like Felix, any of Jeongin’s tattoos were decorative. A small one of a creeping vine was tucked behind his ear. So far, he was the only member of the crew that you’d seen without a military brand. “I wasn’t anything before Chan, so I kind of just took what I could. If that’s as a cabin boy, then so be it.”

“Right,” you nodded blankly, “but what was before? What did you leave behind?”

“You got a hell of a lot of questions, Miss Nova,” Jeongin smirked. “But whoever, whatever I left behind was nothing of note. It wasn’t any way to live, that’s for sure.”

This struck you harder than you expected. You definitely understood leaving behind nothing of note. It just surprised you that someone with as much cash as Jeongin could feel that way.

But it was valid.

No way to live was no way to live, no matter how you sliced it.

You lamented not being able to feel the water or the sand one more time when you met up with Minho at the workshop. Well, you were supposed to meet up with them. Weren’t you? You and Jeongin searched around the ramp and the ship, even peeking into the galley, but no sign of them, until you sighted them a few minutes later pulling into the port.

Minho looked pissed. Hyunjin looked more disgusted, but both men were unmistakably put off.

Jisung was babbling something when Minho drove up the ramp. Jeongin began retracting the bay door, equally confused as you were. Minho flapped a hand at Jisung to shut him up.

“I’m ashamed to call myself your fake husband,” Minho pointed accusingly at him. “I need to hear that you apologized tomorrow. Get the hell out of my face.”

You tried to reach for Jisung, who leaned out of the way, mumbling about needing something from his cabin. Minho turned his threatening point to you now.

“Babe, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll have no mercy on that idiot.”

All this noise apparently summoned Chan, who stalked out of the cabin by your room and donned a welding mask. He pointed his laser torch at Jeongin.

“You!” he bellowed. “What the hell are you thinking? You had me fucking worried sick. I gave you a direct order! I had no clue where you were!”

Jeongin stood quiet, like he was withstanding a scolding from a parent.

Chan pointed with his torch beyond the workshop. “You go clean the head and report back to me. You’ll love the stupid chores I’ve been saving up.”

You watched Jeongin nod affirmatively before leaving for midship, not hanging his head in shame or anything, but his eyes trained on the floor nonetheless. When you brought your focus back to the current commotion, Hyunjin was adding to Chan’s stress levels, apparently, by explaining Jisung’s absence.

“ARRESTED?” the captain shouted. He took off the welding mask to run his fingers through his hair in distress. “Why the fuck was he arrested?!”

“He can tell you all about it,” Hyunjin grumbled. “I’m sweaty, I’m gross, I have a headache – I’m taking a shower.”

“I just directed Jeongin to clean the head,” Chan argued, exasperated.

“Then he’ll either wait or close his eyes,” groaned Hyunjin, brushing past Chan on his way into the ship.

This left you and Minho. Chan took a deep, heaving, steadying breath before grandly gesturing towards the cabin he emerged from.

“I’ve prepared Sir’s stateroom during his expedition.”

“What’s with the torch?” Minho grinned, peeking into the room.

Chan proudly gestured with his welding mask. “I sealed your stupid hatches shut, you son of a bitch.”

“Great,” deadpanned Minho. “What if there's an emergency?”

“That doesn’t sound like my problem right now,” Chan shrugged. “Now, thank you for your service, but get the hell in there.”

“Yes sir,” Minho mocked. Unexpectedly, though, he leaned over and kissed your cheek. Except, of course, his gesture catching your attention meant it was pretty much a peck on the lips. He ducked into his new room before either you or Chan had a chance to react.

You tried to process this for a second before you caught Chan leering at you. Now you got it. You were a dumb little bartering chip between the two men. The key card Chan forgot to get back from you was burning a hole in your pocket for some reason.

“You’re sure there's nothing going on with you and the bounty?” the captain asked while he walked back out to the workshop proper. The grease and sweat smeared on him was almost as endearing as it was gross.

“Yes, Captain,” you teased. “I'm more worried about Felix, though.”

“Felix is doing fine,” Chan assured you. “He’s resting… in Changbin’s room.”

“Really,” you gawked.

“Right?!” Chan laughed. “And Seungmin's resting in his room, too… If you’re wondering.”

“Why would I be wondering?” you deflected.

Chan chuckled to himself, packing up his tools and setting the welding mask back in its compartment. “You’re cute, you know that? And you have time. There’s only one boost lane on Phaborus so we’re backed up until well into nightfall.”

“You don’t need me for anything?”

The captain looked puzzled. “No? There's such a thing as free time, love, go cherish it. Just don't leave the ship in case our time gets moved up.”

Chan left for the galley, leaving you alone in the workshop. A heavy ball of restlessness weighed you down. You wondered what should be next. If you couldn’t leave the ship, what could you do? The first thing that came to mind was Felix, checking on him and seeing how he was doing. However, there was also Jisung. Minho was fuming on your behalf. Or, you mused… you could check on Seungmin. You couldn’t deny you were worried about him, and Minho did manage to make you wonder just went so wrong in the first place.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #ALWAYS CHECK THE TAGS #look 🤧🤧🤧 i'll level with you 🥲🥲🥲#if you choose the cute option #you're gonna get a VERY cute chapter #DON'T LET ME DOWN #if you choose the funnier option it'll still be a pretty sweet chapter tbh #and the felix option gets us a frustrating mix of all three THERE I SAID IT #please for the love of all that is sacred pick the cute or funny option PLEASE

11 notes · View notes

anaalnathrakhs · 2 years ago

Note

Whaaa driver’s Ed is one of the easiest classes you can take

I don't know anon, maybe the level of the questions is low, but that's assuming they're formulated in good faith.

Part of the problem is that since I'm only training I am incredibly over the forced snail pace so I make silly inattention mistakes I hopefully won't make taking the actual exam, but I'm still not happy that some questions are purposefully based on semantics so that you can know and understand the underlying practical problem and still answer wrong. Not even counting the moralizing questions, like the stats about people killed in a car accident every year. I understand it's good to have been told these numbers to know the risk and drill in our heads to be careful, I just don't think "memorizing a number per time duration" is a skill that should be measured by drivers ed. I really hope these are training-only questions but meh. Unlikely.

#not sure we're talking abt the same drivers ed as well tbh i wouldn't describe it as a class i think we're in different countries #and i dunno how similar the systems are #same again i get why it's important to be TOLD where the valve for oil and the valve for cooling liquid are and how to check them #but like. is it worth a point? from someone who obviously doesn't have a car?#like i'm gonna need to check the oil level i'll look it up the first three times and then i'll have it memorized for life #it's not a time-sensitive task #so why can that be the question that makes you fail the theoretical test BEFORE you've had a car in your hands #i don't know. maybe i'm stupid and searching for excuses on why i'm getting below passing scores #but it infuriates me to take drivers ed and i always have a rant locked and loaded so #asks #anonymous

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quarklynx · 1 year ago

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Read a book today, would not recommend. I have fallen to the "just one more chapter" curse. It is now 5 am.

#lynx thinks #so... eepy #but if i dont finish these books before saturday im gonna be too distracted to properly play my dnd character #i stopped by the library today bc i finished the last one in two days and had to get the next one #but the checkout time is three weeks so i decided to just grab the rest of the series too #and these are MASSIVE fucking books. quite hefty #anyway i pulled up with them to the counter and the librarian had already put my last book back #she must have seen that i returned it really fast and that I'd come back for the rest bc she gave me a pamphlet #its for this reading competition thing for people who read more than 25 books in a year from the library #i think she suggested it bc after seeing the stack if books she told me the policy on extensions and i said i def wouldn't need one on these #... I'm beginning to question if it's healthy for me to read books tbh bc i always do this #maybe i should stick with audio books...#theyre so slow though. my eyes are faster than my ears so i can only speed up an audiobook to a certain point before it's too jumbled #i can usually do 1.5 or 1.75 speed quite comfortably but this one has so many made up words i have to remember that i can only do 1.3 speed #icb I've done this again... send help

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tvrningout-a · 2 years ago

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so!! now that i'm back from dinner, i'm gonna tell y'all about some of the gods i have in mind for rin's lore! only sunna has a name bc these are still rough ideas!

sunna, goddess of creation, life, and rebirth: she is the original mother, having created the mortal realm and birthing the gods and goddesses; after her divine children were born, she then created the original humans for them to nurture and shape. she is associated with flames, having risen from them the first time one of her children attempted to kill her. they succeeded only to witness her rebirth and watch as she used the very same flames to seal them away.

slá, goddess of the forge and construction: one of sunna's original children, she helped shape the terrain of the mortal realm, carving out rivers and molding mountains. wanting children of her own making, she carved the first dwarves out of stone, and sunna granted them life. as the mortal children grew, they forged the tools and gifted them to the mortals so that their lives might be easier.

líf, goddess of the wild, protector of flora and fauna: another of sunna's original children, she planted the first trees, created the first flowers, and cultivated the first harvest. aside from sunna herself, she is one of the only other gods capable of creating life; she created the first animals and created the first elves as the guardians of the forests and plains. they were created in sunna's image as líf greatly admired her mother, though current mortals debate this heatedly. after all, would sunna's own mortal children not be created in her image?

endir, god of the afterlife and death: life cannot exist without death, so sunna birthed him. he watches over the mortals' souls until they are ready to be born again, and he punishes the souls who commit heinous acts. to always be surrounded by death and the pleas of souls who want to live so badly is a heavy burden, so sunna granted him the ability to allow miracles every so often. some souls leave their body only to return within a span of minutes, and it is always his doing.

#i say rough ideas as i kinda flesh them out as i write this post asdf #also don't ask me who tried to kill sunna first bc i dunno my guy i'm undecided #i don't want it to be the death deity bc that's so typical you know?#and tbh i think they're one of sunna's favored children bc they do their job with much care and little complaint #and maaaaybe these first three children will all be her favorites? since they all got their hands in the creation process #anyway it's wild that i'm able to do this when i've always been daunted by the idea of creating gods based upon #my own lore and stuff #i'm really excited thinking about all this though!! dunno how it's gonna play into the story yet but AHHH y'know!!!#headcanons | dórverold

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nomaishuttle · 2 years ago

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this is not just me complaining bc its one of my chores but i truly donot think the kitchen needs 2 be mopped twice aweek

#and swept 3 times a week 3 days in arow #likee. if were gonna sweep that often it should be spaced out more.. we have the weekend off for chores but i feel like itd make sense for #it to be monday wednesday friday IF it has 2 be a three times a week chore #but tbh id have it be like. at MOST a once a week chore and tbh irl probably more of a 2 weeks-monthly chore #mopping DEFINITELY just monthly unless theres a spill...#idk if thats like. insane and i fully admit my likee. knowledge of how often things should be cleaned is not very good bc my moms a hoarder #and gets very very very stressed out by cleaning stuff so our houses have always been Insanely messy. not that im like blaming my mom ik #its hard for her. it just also means that i dont know likee. how often mopping should be done bc that was like.. maybe once a year. but #in practice i can count on one hands the emt of times our house was mopped #even if there was a spill itd usually just be a towel and move on thang #and to be clear ik like thats not great ik that. ik our houses were always pretty grody #i just dont think mopping 2 times a week is necessary. basically..#the mopping is umm monday wednesday i think. which is just weird 2 me it should be evenly spaced throughout th week right...#BUT AGAIN i think it should just be a every 2 weeks-once a month thang #unless it gets dirty.. but what do i nose #genuinely. if im like wrong here sry i genuinely dont know etc.

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honestlyvan · 1 month ago

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On Tumblr it's pretty common to follow people based on the fact that they're good at curating (ie. you like the things they reblog) as opposed to following the OP of every post you like immediately, because despite the ravaging discoverability on this site has taken, especially on the fandom side, there still are people on here who run fully curatorial blogs and like doing the digging it takes to find the "good posts".

In fact, I feel like the historical presence of both themed and unthemed curatorial blogs on this site is probably the reason it's so reliant on reblogs, and the weakening of their ability to find things is one of the big reasons why posts lose momentum faster now. (The other reason people reblog less is because of the damage a culture of harassment caused to this site's identity, but that's out of scope for this conversation.) It used to be that if a big fandom blog reblogged you, you didn't have to worry about your post getting buried, because their followers and peer network would give you exponentially more notes.

Which isn't to say that you shouldn't follow the OPs of posts you like, but it's often not the most efficient or even the most interesting way to get a dashboard full of interesting things. And if you do want to follow OPs directly, you could be the next highly curatorial blog that gets followed because people like your ability to find the "good posts" and be the one with the "good commentary".

The critical thing here is that follower count isn't actually something that is visible to anyone but yourself, so that's still not exactly "popularity". However, popularity on this site gets you basically nothing other than an inbox you can never empty fully and probably a snide hatedom from people who resent having to see your URL because blocking someone doesn't hide their additions in the threads, and you can't filter out the additions of specific people without hiding the whole thread.

Reblogging is essentially a conversation tool, and has multiple registers. All the "rules" you might hear about when it's okay to add commentary and when you should keep your commentary to the tags are derived from the old way the site used to display your activity. People who have been here for a long time expect certain "manners", even when most of them have forgotten or never knew what the origin of those manners was, but I think because tags and comments are now so embedded into the OP's experience of their own posts, people forget that the middle layer of commentary and curation is what made this site what it was.

So, in my opinion the best way to think about reblogging is not as you talking to the OP -- it's you talking to people who follow you, with the OP just having provided the conversation starter.

People keep telling newcomers that they must reblog posts here because that's the only way to boost a post. And while that isn't not true, it also wildly misrepresents the reblogging culture that Tumblr actually has.

The posts like that keep talking about things as if the OP ("content creator") is someone who needs eyeballs on their work and the rest of us peons ("consumers") owe them the number-go-up an algorithm handles on other sites.

Nothing could be farther from the truth.

Tumblr isn't a popularity contest (note how you can't see follower count), and it's not structured with creators at the top and audience at the bottom. It's egalitarian, we're all in the same crowd, and yes, some of us have 2 followers and some have twenty bazillion, but no one actually knows which is which.

You reblog a post not as a favour to the glorious yet suffering content mill, but because you want people who look at your blog (all two of them now, all twenty of them once more people look at the notes on the posts you reblog) to see that post in the context of your blog.

Your blog is your space, and you're meant fill it with things that you want seen there. That can be your original posts, reblogs with commentary, or just a collection of things you think are neat.

Reblogs chains are often how people find other people to follow, too. So reblog to show off a post that you like and to attract more people who like the things you like to show off. It's that simple. And it's about you.

And because everyone does this, reblogs posts they want to be seen on their own blog, when people make posts that a lot of other people enjoy, that post blows up and is seen by even more people.

Tumblr's reblog system is a network of people picking something up and going "look at this cool thing I found!". It is not a service to content creators.

#Like #We're long past when you could run a “critique” or bashing blog on this site without people being like “dude what the hell?”#because everything we do is now visible by default to the OP #(btw it doesn't have to be -- if you want a more old-school Tumblr experience you can turn tag view off)#(and frankly if you're newly popular on this site I recommend doing that)#Like I'm not gonna say the culture of this site has always been nice #in fact there are a lot of people who made their bread by reblogging posts and leaving nasty commentary on them #as a way to perform to *their* audience #but because that would be one note to the OP #and the rest of them would be tags commenting on the contrary commentary #it would be easier to ignore #My policy of “don't reblog posts where the OP is a dipshit and the only value is in the commentary” is from that time #and it's still serving me well #you cannot think about the notes of a post like the “likes” of a post on Instagram or something #they're also the comment section and as we all know #all comment sections on the internet suck ass always #Also not for nothing I wanna make note that art reposting has always been a thing on this site #Like. Oh my god you don't know how bad it used to be #it's still pretty bad but it's gotten a lot better #and so blogs that curate art from *other sites* on the internet for Tumblr are comparable to the middle layer curatorial rebloggers #just. Worse #because they're not exposing you to new blogs on this site #tbh having a dash where you see the same picture three or four times in a row used to be a “healthy” dash #but I think with people following the OPs directly that's gotten less common #and among other things that's contributing to the constantly plummeting note counts on art and meta.

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lizardho · 5 months ago

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I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

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meganegatari · 3 months ago

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You should definitely write for Vi bc oml she’s so fine 😮‍💨

DO U EVEN KNOW THE WAY IM TWEAKIN OVER HER like omfg. my poor moots getting bombarded with fucking piles of edits upon edits of her and my thirsty comments...yeah...i gotchu, you don't needa ask me twice ♡ tbh feel like this is one of the better short smutty thingies i've written, lol. it was really fun.

nsfw drabble—dom!vi + spit kink. originally i was gonna make this three smaller blurbs, but decided to just smash em all into one longer drabble situation. cw: praise, bossy vi, finger sucking (r! receiving), oral (v! receiving), vi bush mention RAHHHH, yapping... yk how it is by now. + 1.1k wc.

you were gazing up at her with watery eyes, kneeling by vi's seated form, trying your hardest to ignore the deafening ache between your thighs.

vi is loving, and she knows how to treat you well. she always provides you with tons of care and happiness, however—she also possesses a dirty side to her.

a bandaged hand swipes at the bottom of your chin, her thumb prodding at your pursed lips. there was a smirk playing on her scarred lips, her powder-blue eyes twinkling with pure lust at the scenario playing out before her.

“open.” she says roughly, and who are you to deny her? you were willing to take anything she'd give you, so you obediently part your lips, allowing her to fully push her digit inside your hot mouth.

almost instinctively, your puffy lips wrap around her thumb and you begin to suck, your eyes rolling ever so slightly at the taste of her salted skin. she hums, “atta girl—keep going. just like that, until i say you can stop, alright?” you open your eyes and nod in approval, wishing to commit her expression to memory.

see, vi wasn't one of those mean, degrading doms with an icy exterior who get off on hurting you an excessive amount, and in moments like this where she's got you in a position of submission under her, her natural “switchiness” peeks through. you see it in the way her throat bobs as she swallows, her unsteady, shallow breathing coming out in rasps, and the distinct furrow in her flaming brows while she struggles to maintain eye contact. regardless, you both enjoy toying around with various dynamics, she makes it fun.

you get lost in a daydream while staring into her eyes, but are startled out of it when she strongly presses down on your wet tongue, and pushes her thumb further inward until you gag.

it surprises you, but you know she would never overdo things. tears well up in your eyes, their presence only widening her voracious grin.

then she soothes, her now-soft voice caressing your ears, “exactly, just like that. good job, baby. you're so perfect f'me—yeahhh.” she continues rolling her thumb around your wet muscle, every so often dragging the pad of her finger over the ridges of your teeth, then pushing experimentally up against the roof of your mouth.

saliva has been gathering all this time, and she hasn't given you a moment to swallow it, so it dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin, decorating your chest as it slides down your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its path.

her face gets impossibly redder as she observes the sight, still while playing with—rather, using—your mouth. her movements speed up a touch, and she triggers your gag reflex once more before abruptly stopping. she pulls her hand out of your mouth with a pop, and throws her head back as she tries to steady her breathing. “you're so fuckin’ hot, god—i can't.”

you smile up at her, reveling in her break of character and being pleased with yourself. she's panting, and examines her hand; it's shiny and dripping with your spit, she's mesmerized by the sparkle it emits in the low light. her periwinkle eyes gloss over and suddenly there's a flash of fabric flying by, and you realize she has undressed herself in one fluid motion, throwing everything on her bottom half across the room. she’s so desperate, you can’t help but sneer at her horny distress, even though technically you were the one being overpowered.

your eyes drop, meeting a wild tangle of vermillion and crimson, her muscular thighs separating east and west to make space for you.

she leans back and gently nudges your head towards her tender, drooling core, her chest heaving at the way you're just melting under her touch. turning to jelly, you let her guide you where she wants. needs.

vi groans quietly, her breath hitching, “c'mon angel, you know what to do.” and you very much did. with her assistance, you advance and bury your face in her center, tongue finding her scarlet pearl—twitching and ready for you to obliterate.

you flick, you suck, and you moan at the heavenly taste of her essence, revel in the noises she's producing above you. she pulls you further in, bucking her hips frantically to chase your skilled mouth. you push your tongue inside her quivering hole as far as it'll go, taking as much of her in your mouth as you can, and ignoring the lack of oxygen you're experiencing—you would be more than pleased if you were lucky enough to die this way.

she's watching you intently through half-lidded eyes, chewing on her rosy lips. when you meet her gaze from in between her legs, her face contorts and she releases a guttural whine, more slick leaking from her and filling your hard-at-work mouth.

her grip on your hair tightens and her abs tense, providing you with an image that's worthy of a climax just on its own. her head falls back, her lips parting to allow for pretty, high pitched and pathetic pleas to grace your ears. “ple—please baby, just like that. you're so fuckin' good, don't you dare stop—ah!”

without any warning she makes a vulgar mess of your face, the vice grip on your crown causing you to wince, but just as she requests, you don't dare move.

you tilt your head to get a better angle, practically making out with her swollen pussy. you drink up her cum, the near-sickly sweetness clouding your mind, coating your thoughts in a drunken haze.

the high is rippling through her at such an intensity her loud moans are replaced with pornographic whimpers, the sensations utterly ruining her. she squirms and arches, caging your head between her thighs until she gasps.

"hah—okay, okay, oh—fuck.” she stutters while she pushes you away, the tremor in her body evident. you sit back and examine your work, feeling proud of yourself, her fucked-out condition proving you did a good job.

she's sprawled on the bed like a starfish, still trying to slow her racing heart but manages to chuckle, basking in the aftershocks of a mind-melting session.

her words are slurred, yet satisfied. “did so good, that was so good…love your mouth s'much babe.”

you guffaw, and throw at her through chuckles, “i know, i am the best.” that sends her into a fit of giggles as well, and once she's calmed down she confirms.

“yeah, you really are.”

thanks for reading! comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know ♡ if you'd like to be tagged in future works, fill out the form here! until next time ;)

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