#goodnight to everyone except those people my days

[1d-afterparty]

The same Niall fans that made fun of Liam for going to Nialls concert now *crying* how Liam was always there for Niall and talking about how people need to be kinder. Genuinely, fuck you, it shouldn't take someone dying to revaluate your behaviour which you were taught as a child was unacceptable

[cookiebelle]

Me Fui de Vacaciones • Damian Priest x AFAB reader

Warnings • 2nd person pov (no use of y/n), reader is Afab but I did my best to be as inclusive and nondescript as possible

Smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected PIV sex, oral (m receiving), names (Gatita, baby, you get it), some extremely light kink (spanking, biting, choking, hair pulling), lil bit of Sir kink, size kink sort of, exactly two uses of the word “whore”, porn with an unnecessary amount of plot, tropes galore, idiots to lovers requires its own warning, bad Spanish translations probably.

Word Count • 6.2k words, I have no reasonable explanation for this.

A/N • This should go without saying, but I’m gonna say it anyway. This is a wrestling fic, featuring wrestlers. While wrestlers are indeed real people with real lives, they are also playing characters. The people mentioned in this fic are their characters, and in no way am I depicting the individuals who portray them.

Burning logs crackled. One. Two. Three beers became five. Your feet dug into soft, cool sand as you and your closest friends talked around a fire.

It was the beginning of a well deserved mini-vacation, and the five of you weren’t intending to waste a moment of it. So when you all arrived at the little beach cottage you had rented, even at nearly midnight, you were hell bent on getting the most of your time off. So the fire was built, drinks were passed around, and laughter carried across the beach.

Most people called your friends “The Judgment Day”. You just called them family, though. You had met Damian first, in 2020, the near end of his NXT career marking your beginning. He quickly became your mentor as you navigated the tribulations of what it meant to work for the company, a true friend among those who looked at you only as competition. Later, he introduced you to Rhea. Then the faction formed, and Finn joined the circle, then Dom. Your call up to the main roster occurred shortly after, during the draft. The celebration that ensued when you learned you would be working with the rest of the crew was legendary. These, truly, were your people.

And then there you were, a year later, feet in the sand. You played a light tune on your guitar as though it were the backing score to Bálor’s story, leaving the group captivated. Well, everyone but you. You were looking up at the stars, taking it all in, wondering how you could possibly be so lucky. You decided not to tempt fate by asking the universe that very question, but it seemed fate had its own ideas for this week.

“You good?”

Rhea’s voice pulled you from your daydream and all at once, everyone was looking at you. You realized, in your deep state of thought, your random plucking at the guitar had faded to nothing.

“So good…” you grinned, slurring slightly, at which the group chuckled and carried on with their conversations. Crisis averted. At least you thought. Damian’s gaze lingered on you when you looked back down at the frets of your guitar, but you didn’t seem to notice.

It was a drunken stumble back to the house, sometime around 3AM, everyone finally exhausted enough to end the day and refresh themselves for the next. Except you. As they all said their goodnights and retired to their respective rooms, you found yourself on the couch, unable to sleep and watching reruns of the same sitcoms you had seen a hundred times.

—————

“Hey… Hey you…”

You felt something… poking you?

“Hellooooo…”

You gasped and sat up, eyes wildly searching the room until you found Rhea standing above you. It was light outside, light enough that golden rays peeked through the curtains and illuminated her face. You glanced at the clock. 7am. Hadn’t you guys just gone to bed?

“We’re going to the gym. You coming?”

“I thought we were on vacation,” You groaned and laid back down, covering your face with a throw pillow as you realized how sore your back was. Why the hell did you sleep on the couch all night?

“Suit yourself. We’ll back in a couple hours.”

You rolled over, scrunched up but content as the footsteps left the house, got in the car, and drove away. Slowly, you dozed back off into that euphoric state of half sleep.

“Hey…”

Oh fuck. Damian. Your heart picked up and suddenly you were awake once more. You thought you had heard all of them leave, and yet…

“Hey, you awake?”

You remained rigidly still save for your breathing, even as you heard him approach. For whatever reason, pretending to still be asleep was your first and only instinct. It did you little good, however.

In one sudden motion, as if you weighed nothing at all, you were scooped up into his arms. Still, you pretended to sleep. Despite your heart racing. Despite how badly you wanted to lean into the safety and warmth of his chest. Despite the fire that sparked in your core every time you got close to him.

Yeah, you were down bad. The moment he got in the ring to spar with you that first time, you were a goner, and it only got worse as years went on. You had spent holidays together, traveled to countless cities and countries, bared your soul to him over late night gin and cigarettes. You saw him for what he was. When others saw a monster of a man, a Broken Angel as he was once called, you saw someone sensitive, fierce, and loyal. Even the flaws drew you closer, but you could focus on those another time.

You kept the feelings under the hat as best you could. The only time you let it slip was to Rhea, early on in your friendship, your eyes lingering too long on Damian as he walked away from the two of you. She promised to take the secret to her grave. That didn’t stop her from teasing you in private, though, or from dropping the subtlest of hints when you were all together. Hints Damian never seemed to get, or maybe he did. Who really knows?

Back in the present, he was carrying you… somewhere, that much you could glean with your eyes closed. And then you were placed somewhere soft. Already warm and slept in, like the comfiest hug. Wait… was this his bed? You breathed deeply and realized it was, regrettably, recognizing the scent of his hair left behind on the pillow.

He covered you with a blanket, pushing away some hair that had fallen in your face. It was a surprisingly tender gesture from someone like him, especially for “just a friend”, but that was something you had gotten used to. It was one of the many facets of who he was, showing his love with touch. He was always there for you with a hug when you needed it, or a rub to your shoulders after a good match, and he seemed to mess with your hair a lot, too. You thought nothing of it. That was just.. him.

You decided, as his hand drew away from your face, that now was as good a time as any to begin to stir. You slowly blinked your eyes open and looked up as he was still standing beside you, just turning to leave.

“Mmmm hello…” you mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up… you just looked uncomfortable and I was getting up anyway so I figured…” He seemed almost nervous, immediately pulling his hands away from you.

“No, it’s fine,” you cut him off, stretching for the first time in what felt like days, “thank you..”

“Okay, well.. you sleep. I’m gonna make breakfast..” he turned back to leave and you quickly grabbed onto his hand, tugging it backward.

“Too early for breakfast. It’s your bed. Come lay down…” your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard every word.

It wasn’t as though you two hadn’t shared plenty of beds. Traveling on tour was like that. With Dom and Rhea paired off, and Finn preferring to be alone, you two often ended up in a room together, and thanks to Damian’s stature that meant sharing a single king bed. Of course, you didn’t mind. Not even as you laid awake all those nights, trying to quell that burning need you couldn’t seem to shake when you were so close yet so far from him. You wondered how he could sleep, how he couldn’t feel your nervous energy from across the bed. Maybe he could, and just paid it no mind.

This time was different, though. Charged. Like the energy you felt shooting through the fingertips that touched him was somehow a mutual exchange. Like if you pulled your hand from his right now, you would see the electricity connecting them. You couldn’t explain how or why, all you could do was tug on his hand as he tried to decline your invitation.

“There’s no way you’re not tired, come on…”

And, after a moment of your insistence, he reluctantly obliged.

There was a dip in the bed, and you hummed happily as a strong arm wrapped around you, hugging you close for a moment as he got situated. You rolled onto your side, facing away from him so you could hide your secret little smile. Strong arms wrapped around you again, to your surprise, and you shifted until you both were comfortable laying there in each other’s space.

You two always ended up like this, once you finally found yourself able to sleep. You would wake curled up against his massive frame, him holding you in a manner that could only be described as possessive. It was almost as though he was protecting you in your slumber; From what, you weren’t sure. Bad dreams? Aliens? You always played it off as though you two just enjoyed the closeness, drawn to each other in the unconscious. You’d vehemently defend to Rhea that it was strictly platonic. The butterflies in your throat disagreed.

It felt like every single cell in your body was vibrating. You thought there was no way that you could sleep, and yet you felt your eyelids droop as his warmth spread around you. Once again, you dozed, your body weightless despite being hyper aware of the fact that you were pressed up against him. His shallow, sleepy breaths puffed across the top of your head, but you would later learn he was also not sleeping.

No, he was in the same predicament as you. Pretending to sleep while his mind raced and the smell of your hair drew him further into this downward spiral. It was all innocent thoughts at first. Friendly. Looking forward to spending time with you and the others over the next few days. Then he opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of your peaceful, sleeping face and a switch flipped. Suddenly he was consumed by the thought of waking you up and taking you then and there, finally giving into the urge he felt every time he got close to you. Every time he watched you wrestle. Every time you smiled at him from across a room, or fell asleep on him during long flights, or gave his butt a pat as he walked out from Gorilla to the ramp. He valued your friendship more than that urge, though, and it’s stopped him every time he’s nearly gone through with indulging it.

Lost in your thoughts, you only barely registered the fact that he had scooted a little bit closer to you than before, hips flush with the curve of your ass. Something else pressed against you, something somewhat firm and insistent. You blushed, trying to muffle the faintest gasp at the realization of exactly what it was. He had to be sleeping… right? Would he do this if he wasn’t?

You didn’t know what to do, frozen still by the options before you. You could ignore it, pretend to keep sleeping and act as though nothing was happening. That was the safest option. You two could proceed as usual, protecting your friendship for the long run while you pined for him still. Or… you could give in and acknowledge it, say fuck it to all of the doubt and uncertainty.

Fuck it.

You moved to back yourself up further against him, making sure to slowly grind your hips and drag your ass against the clothed protrusion. You heard a low, barely audible noise from him, spurring you on as you arched your back slightly and once again pressed your ass into him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing…” he whispered under his breath, not wanting to wake you if this was all just some kind of cruel joke the universe was playing on him. His hand went from holding you across your waist to slowly tracing a line down your side, stopping at your hip and squeezing gently. You hummed again, softly, leaning into his touch.

It burned where his fingertips made contact with your skin, feeling that same electric energy as before, stealing the breath from your lungs. It was now or never, you decided, no going back from here. A calculated risk, but you were always so bad at math. Slowly, you reached back, grabbing hold of his hip and using the new leverage to really grind against him. You heard a low rumbling, like thunder in his chest, fingers digging into your hip.

“Don’t tease me…” another barely audible growl of a whisper. You chuckled softly, putting on an air of confidence in spite of your hammering heart, moving just enough in his hold to turn your head and look innocently at him. God, he loved that look. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking you over with a glint in his eye you’d never seen before, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Who’s teasing?” You offered a smile over your shoulder.

“I mean it…” he brought you closer to him, his lips finding your bare shoulder. He placed a kiss on it, then bit down softly, eliciting the tiniest gasp from you. Another kiss, another bite, another low, sleepy whine from you as your hips begged for more friction. His hand on your hip pulled you back as he rocked slowly into you. God, why did he have to make this so good? It was bad enough that you were past some kind of point of no return, but every press of his hips to your behind only made it worse, forcing tiny moans out of you. Officially helpless to the way your body was reacting to his touch, you didn’t bother resisting it any longer. Your hand on his hip reached between the two of you, teasing along the waistband of his boxers before reaching in. Your hand slid tentatively down his pelvis, running over smooth, hot skin before finally wrapping around what you were looking for.

It was damn near as intimidating as he was. Long and thick and heavy, twitching slightly in your grasp as he grew harder. You couldn’t help but utter a quiet “Fuck”. His chest rumbled as you stroked him a few times, and you couldn’t help but groan with him, the slick heat of your core only growing more overwhelming with each glide of your palm. You felt lips on your neck now, doing the same as before. A kiss, a bite, then another soothing kiss as you mewled at the sensation, your walls clenching around nothing, absolutely begging for him. You’d be lucky if you made it out of this without him marking you, but would that really be lucky? You kept on with soft, slow strokes, breathless as he continued to focus on your neck.

“Are you sure we should do this…” he breathed in your ear, your movements slowing as you processed his question. He was giving you one last out, it seemed. One last opportunity to say “you’re right, let’s stop”, though you both knew you had already gone too far to come back from this. But, with no hesitation, you nodded.

It all happened so fast after that. In half a second you were flat on your back, eyes wide as you tried to choke out something clever or witty to say, completely failing. He wasn’t touching you yet, but nonetheless you were pinned, his massive frame caging yours entirely. Your eyes cut down to discover he’d slid his boxers off, hard cock hanging between his legs. Fuck, it looked even better than it felt. Your gaze wandered back up to his confident smirk. He knew what he was working with, clearly. Smug bastard.

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice…” you couldn’t help but laugh, doing everything you could to look normal, ignoring the steady beating in your ears.

“Just couldn’t help but notice you admiring something…” he chuckled, then leaned back down to kiss your neck, and suddenly your mind was mush again except for him.

You were ripped from your thoughts as you found your top being pulled off and your breasts exposed, his mouth immediately attaching to one. He was all teeth and tongue, frantic and desperate, years of tension finally breaking the dam and rushing through his veins. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, writhing and gasping as he played you so expertly, somehow finding every little sensitive spot and knowing exactly how to wring the most pathetic little sounds from your throat. Had your nipples always been this sensitive? You couldn’t remember. In fact, this all felt so new, like it was your first time all over again. His intense focus turned up to you as he switched to your other breast, the eye contact enough to ruin you both. You broke it, certain you would come in an instant if you held his dark eyes any longer.

Damian let go of your nipple with a tug of his teeth, leaning up to finally kiss your lips, both hands holding your face. White heat burst behind your eyes as his tongue immediately assumed dominance over yours. You wrapped your arms around broad shoulders, moaning shamelessly into his mouth as tongues danced and one of his hands moved to firmly hold your jaw. He only broke the kiss to speak, lips just centimeters from yours.

“Pretty little thing… me estás matando…”

Your loss for words left you grinning stupidly in response. You, killing him? While you’ve lost all sense of chill, not even bothering to pretend to be casual about this? He kissed the smile off your face, biting and tugging on your bottom lip as he pulled away, leaving your lips to chase his as you whined with need. It was strange, the fact that you needed him. You’d had plenty of partners, plenty of good sex. Sure, you wanted them, but this felt like you’d surely die if you didn’t feel him inside you soon. Like your body would simply vaporize without his touch. Maybe this was how it was going to be from now on, feeling like something was distinctly missing when he wasn’t touching you.

Your flimsy cotton shorts were the next to go, his lips finding every inch of exposed skin down your abdomen and claiming it as his own. Eager hands glided down his shoulders and back, taking in the way each muscle flexed as he moved along your body.

His energy was impossible to place, manic but calm. He knew exactly what he was doing, but still moved with an urgency as if the two of you would be caught any moment. Which… was partially true. In a moment of clarity, the rest of the crew came to mind and your heart picked up at the realization that they would be back soon, and this would be over. Or worse.. they could find you two, passionately entangled. What would they say? What would HE say? You feared he would deny it, too ashamed to admit he felt anything for you, even just lust.

Your thoughts continued to race, eyes closing as you panicked. You tried to be discreet about it, but if anyone knew your cues, it was Damian. He moved back up to you, a strong yet delicate hand wrapping around your throat as he kissed you. Well, that was one way to knock out the intrusive thoughts.

“Look at me,” he squeezed ever so slightly as your eyes focused, his tone stern yet soft, “whatever you’re thinking about. Doesn’t matter right now. Tell me what does.” Another squeeze.

“You.”

“And what else…”

“… me?”

“Good girl.”

Another kiss, another squeeze, and he was gone. Back to leaving bite marks down your body. He came down to your panties and let out a silent, somewhat shaky breath. Finally. Finally he had you right where he always wanted you. It was almost overwhelming, but he didn’t let onto that. His fingers gently traced over black cotton, finding a damp spot along the seam of your cunt.

“Oh gatita,” he kept focus along that spot, shooting sparks through your entire body with how inexplicably sensitive you were, “is this all for me?”

All you could do was whimper in response, letting your head fall back to the pillow as your hips chased his fingers, begging for more. He granted you that extra friction, mouth falling open as he watched you shamelessly grind against his hand.

And then he pulled away, leaving you whining from the loss. In a blink, your panties were tossed to the floor and finally the two of you could take in the sight of one another. It took all of the self control he had not to split you open on his cock right there, but he resisted, instead kneeling between your open legs.

You looked up at him, breathing out a barely audible “please”. You nearly took him out right there, his composure faltering as he fully looked you over.

“Perfect,” he exhaled, readjusting his position and giving his straining cock a few lazy strokes, making sure you were watching. Oh, you were watching, nearly drooling at the sight.

His hand found your pussy again, gently swirling a thumb around your clit, eyes locked with yours and hand still slowly working his cock. He wanted to see every reaction, every little microexpression, he wanted it all. He had waited this long for you, years of picturing you in this exact moment. He wanted to savor everything.

You moaned through your bitten lip as he teased, not daring to look away from him. He had you captive, it seemed, frozen in place and begging for anything he could give you. Which is why you whined so pathetically when he pulled his hand away, once again.

He sucked your essence from his thumb, savoring your sweetness. You hummed at the sight, closing your eyes, only to feel his grip on your jaw a moment later to tilt your head up toward him.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice deeper, more serious. You didn’t dare disobey him, looking up like a deer in headlights. Something about that voice… you couldn’t quite place it. He growled lowly, bringing his hand back down to your cunt. He collected some of your juices on his finger, running it up and down your slick folds before slowly, agonizingly sliding it inside.

He still gripped your chin, daring you to look away as you whimpered at the sudden fullness. You had always admired his hands, giant and strong and rough, yet gentle. You’d wondered how they would feel in this exact scenario, often finding your mind wandering as your own smaller hand worked to your release in the late nights. It was beyond what you had imagined, so much more. His finger found a slow, steady pace, filling you perfectly and yet not enough all at once. You moved your hips with his rhythm, mouth slack in euphoria, eyes still trained to his.

“So fucking good for me, look how well you’re taking it,” he praised, letting go of your jaw to let you look down at where his finger was disappearing into your tight hole. Then, as you watched, he added another finger, wrenching a moan straight from your chest as your head fell back once more. Now the pace picked up, the thrusts of his hand stronger, more precise as he curled his fingers to find that sensitive little spot. You gasped and panted pathetically as he played you so expertly, looking back down at his hand only to fall back onto the pillow, overwhelmed by the sight.

It’s unfair, how he seemed to know you without knowing you. Without much effort at all from him, you found yourself closing in on climax, your panting gradually becoming uninhibited moans of “Please. Please. Please.”

“Please what, gatita?” He cooed, slowing the pace ever so slightly as he leaned over you.

“Please. Just. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Just don’t stop.”

“Oh, don’t stop?” He slowed just a bit more, grinning down at you. You could only whine in response, hips moving sloppily now, trying to encourage him to fuck you faster. Harder. He obliged… for the moment. Your walls slowly grew tighter, your moans more heady and uncontrolled. You felt the coil tighten. Tighten. Tighten…

And then he slowed again. Painfully. Your orgasm held at bay, he couldn’t have appeared more smug, knowing exactly what he was doing. You looked up at him, flushed and desperate.

“Why’d you do that?” A whine, to which his response was simply to kiss you. Again, he picked up the pace, adding another finger, making sure you felt just how much he stretched you. Oh, you felt it. Your vision went blurry at the sensation, focusing on him and only him.

It didn’t take much to bring you to that edge again, the coil tightening even more, threatening to break with every rough pump of his fingers. He was hovering over you now, leaning down and biting on your shoulder, sucking a mark into it. Apparently, he didn’t think about the consequences of that… or maybe he didn’t care. Nevertheless, he bit again, smirking into your shoulder as you arched your back and rode his fingers, dramatically chasing your high. You were so, so close, every muscle in your body tense, hands scratching down his back.

“Come on, baby. Come for me.”

It hit like a brick to the face after that, overtaking you in every way as you moaned and gasped, holding onto him for dear life. He nuzzled his face into you, kissing and sucking marks down your chest to your abdomen, every press of his lips electric.

Everything felt blurry and yet razor sharp, every muscle in your body twitching in the aftershocks. You barely registered that he had kissed back up your body, hands on either side of your head as he waited above. His lips locked with yours the moment your eyes focused, your hands immediately twisting in his hair, holding him as close to you as you could.

You felt the weeping head of his cock prod at your folds, one of his hands guiding it to rub against your clit, still sensitive from your first orgasm. You mewled with anticipation, your hips grinding down against him.

“Patience…” he breathed against your lips, your hips stilling as he slowly slid inside. Just the head. A gasp from both of you. And then another inch. Fuck. And then another. And another. Until you felt all of him and all you could do was pull him in for another consuming kiss. He started with a slow pace, almost sweet, letting you get used to his size. It quickly grew intense, rough and fast, as he let himself fall into the demands of desire. Your hands grabbed at anything on him you could as he overwhelmed you with his force.

It really was unfair, the way he was fucking you. You didn’t stand a chance against him, not finding a single opportunity to gain the upper hand, left only to meet his thrusts with reckless abandon as you moaned with each moment he filled you. You liked it, though, being at his mercy. You trusted him, strangely. You could probably get used to this.

He’s stronger than you thought possible, his grip on your thighs surely bruising you as you writhed and arched your back at a particularly delicious sensation within you. You couldn’t help but close your eyes, completely lost in the rhythm and harshness of the snap of his hips. He bared his teeth as he fucked you harder. Faster. Tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the intensity. And then his hand was over your mouth, his eyes off you for the first time since this dance began. He was scanning outside the open window, watching a car come down the street, thinking it could be the rest of the group. That didn’t mean he stopped fucking you. In fact, it only got more intense.

“That’s right. Fucking take it.” he was back to looking down at you and your wide eyes, burying himself so deep inside you, you were sure he was ruining you entirely, “that’s it, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” Except he didn’t pull his hand from your mouth, smirking as you attempted to speak anyway, your mind too gone. That is.. until he slid himself fully inside, grinding his hips against yours. You moaned out loud, sure that the neighbors have heard you by now, your walls squeezing around him and feeling the drag as he pulled his cock out entirely.

“On your knees,” a simple order, and yet your brain was static. You blinked up at him before shaking away the fog and turning yourself over, wiggling your ass in his face just a little. His growl shook you, two strong hands grabbing hold of your ass and squeezing.

“Love this ass. Always loved this ass. Estuve soñando al respecto,” he kept squeezing, spreading you and groaning at the sight. You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, giving it another shake in his face. Suddenly, you felt teeth on flesh, letting out a yelp that quickly became a satisfied sigh, your head dipping down past your shoulders. Somehow, you didn’t expect his hand to come crashing down on you, the slap against your ass ringing out in the empty house. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, too immersed in the moment to acknowledge anything but the way your back arched and your chest created the most depraved noise you’d ever heard.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Another slap, you gripped at the bedsheets to keep yourself grounded, “you like being treated like a whore?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered involuntarily, nearly slapping your own hand over your mouth at the realization of what you’d said.

“What.. did you just call me?”

“Nothing…”

A ruthless slap, “Tell me.”

You sobbed at the impact, “sir.”

The growl in his chest shook you, and with little warning his cock was pressing to your folds once again, sliding in with ease and setting a brutal pace right off the bat. You dropped to your elbows and arched your back, eyes closing as your head once again dropped. Of course, he took advantage and leaned over you, one hand finding the back of your head and pressing you down into the bed, holding it there. He slapped your ass with the other, laughing when you moaned into the mattress. It left the prettiest pink handprint, he almost wished he could get a picture of it.

You couldn’t believe the way he was fucking you. Like— like a whore, just like he said. You’d think he’d be gentle with you, being your first time together, that he’d want to show you how worthy he was of your pussy. In a way, he was showing you that. He was showing you his worth by fucking you absolutely stupid, and you were loving it. So much that you weren’t far from another climax, feeling your walls tighten around him, dragging such a beautiful sound from him. His hand found your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your head off the bed. You cried out, steadying yourself on your hands. It was overwhelming, every sensation he subjected you to, to the point that you felt completely delirious with pleasure, all sense of control lost. You fucked yourself sloppily back on his cock, his fist pulling tighter on your hair. The tears pricked your eyes again, eyes whiting out.

“Ohhh fuck, are you coming? You filthy little—” he didn’t finish, groaning as your cunt rhythmically clenched around him, his own thrusts growing more erratic. You didn’t even hear him praising you with little ‘good girls’ and whispers of how good you feel, your head clouded with the sounds of your own depravity. You rode out your orgasm for what felt like hours, nearly collapsing as your body ceased quaking.

Your brain was working in half time, barely registering that he was still fucking you slowly, trying to bring you back to reality. You tried to speak, but the words were completely incoherent.

“Need a minute,” you finally mumbled, reaching back and grabbing his hand that rested on your hip. He obliged, pulling out and laying down beside you, pulling you into his arms. Your breath caught gradually, your mental faculties growing stronger by the second despite your throbbing cunt. You sighed contentedly, leaning up and kissing him for just a moment. You had your own ideas, now, and one in particular overtook your thoughts.

You kissed him again, grabbing hold of his cock, still slick with you. Your hand stroked him softly as you shifted down the bed, timidly tapping his leg as to ask him to open them. He did so, and you climbed between them, licking your lips as his cock bobbed in anticipation. You took him hungrily into your mouth, not bothering to tease, too eager to feel him.

Now it was your turn to show how unfair you could be, expertly taking him deep into your throat, holding there until you choked. Immediately, he was gone, head falling back on the pillow until he realized he would rather watch you. Your hand assisted your bobbing head, using your tongue to lap at every vein and ridge of his perfect dick. His groans and words of encouragement and yes gatitas only fueled you, giving everything you had to taking him. You almost wanted him to cum right there, to lose all composure and fill your mouth. He had other plans, however, pulling you by the hair off his cock and admiring the fucked out look on your face.

“So fucking pretty,” he mused, pulling you up to him and kissing you. It was all a ploy, of course, and you let him guide you to straddle him, your hips hovering just above his waiting cock. He ordered you to look at him, your brain already to fuck drunk disobey, eyes fixed on him as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Go ahead, take it all,” he couldn’t help but grin, brow furrowing in pleasure as you did just that, your own face mirroring his. It was almost too much, almost. Getting your balance, you slowly began to bounce on his lap, leaning on his shoulders for leverage. From there it was an endurance test, the pleasure of riding him only tainted by the strain it put on your knees. Still, you continued, his hands finding your hips to help bounce you on his lap, mewling when his hand crashed down on your ass.

You loved having the power. Loved watching his face twist in pleasure as you grinded your hips down onto his. … and you loved that it took little effort for him to suddenly flip you onto your back once more, placing your legs up around his shoulders as he sunk back into you. Every thrust was slow now. Powerful. So much so that each one knocked you back into the wall. It didn’t matter, you were too delirious by the way he was abusing that little spot inside you, seeing stars as you looked up at his concentrated face.

It was close, again, a climax brewing in your core that nearly overtook you the moment you felt it. Your sighs and moans became whines, hands gripped the sheets below you as he just continued with each knock of his hips to yours, folding you up as he leaned forward and somehow sunk impossibly deeper inside you. You pleaded to him, begged him, did everything you could to encourage him to keep going, please. Just another minute. ‘I’m so close’. But he didn’t even have time to stop, the wave crashing over you as the last ‘please’ left your lips and all you could hear was ringing in your ears and the sound of him grunting through each perfect squeeze of your walls around him.

And suddenly you heard something new. A breathy sort of noise intermixed with ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ as his thrusts grew less calculated. Almost sloppy. His hips jerking with every thrust until he couldn’t stall any longer.

“Come on, Papí. Come for me…” you breathed, certain you were tearing the sheets at this point while your cunt pulsed around him, still coming yourself.

Papí. That was all it took for him to fill you, painting your walls as his fingernails dug crescents into your thighs. You laid there, chest heaving as the two of you shared a blissful moment, eyes locked in the realization of what had just happened. And then, as if to dispel the little voice of worry in the back of your mind, he let your legs down gently and climbed up beside you, taking your face into his hands and kissing you. It wasn’t a particularly passionate kiss, but it was perfect for that moment. Perfect enough to ease that budding anxiety.

“We should do that again…” he whispered into your ear, breaking the tension in the air as you burst into a laugh.

“I was thinking the very same thing.”

——

Friends who asked to be tagged: @melisabesurviving @bbygirlnessa18 @missfamilyjeweles @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @thealliasylum @romanreignkisser

[https-harlow]

Presence (18+) Jack X Urban X Reader

Summary- When you ask what Jack and Urban want for their birthday, they both say they want you.

Warnings- 18+ smut, threesome

It wasn't the first time the three of you had talked about sex, in fact, you, Jack, and Urban were all very open with pretty much everything being roommates. You had even had sex with Urban once after a drunken night, but while you hoped it had gone further than that one night, it didn’t. What you didn't know is how jealous Jack got when he found out about that night. Both boys had massive crushes on you. 

Every Sunday night, you would have movie nights, which usually ended up with you three talking about anything random that you could think of while a movie played in the background.

“Wait so you’ve never had a threesome?” Jack asked you and you shook your head.

“No. You say that like it’s something everyone does.” You teased Jack.

“I have.” Both Jack and Urban speak at the same time. You can’t help but laugh.

“Of course you two have.” You teased again.

“The real question isn’t if you’ve had a threesome, it should be would you ever have a threesome?” Urban asked, him and Jack listening intently for your answer. You shifted slightly under their gaze as they subconsciously leaned forward.

“I don’t know, it would have to be with the right people. But with the right people in the right situation, then sure, maybe.” You said. “If you two are done interrogating me about my sex life, then I’m going to bed.” You said, laughing softly. You all said goodnight before you went to your room.

Jack and Urban gave each other a look as soon as you left, and without even speaking a word, they knew exactly what the other was thinking.

The next afternoon, you were all sitting on the couch when you started to bug them about their birthdays that were coming up.

“Guys, both of your birthdays are next week, please just tell me what you want.” You said. Jack and Urban never expected you to get them presents, always saying your presence was enough. Your presence and that you planned their party.

Jack and Urban shared a look before turning to you.

“We did actually think of one thing.” Urban said.

“Okay, tell me what it is.” You said, excited that they were finally going to tell you what they wanted.

“You.” Jack said and you rolled your eyes slightly.

“C’mon, you always tell me that my presence is enough but I want to actually get you both something that you want.” You insisted, not realizing what Jack meant.

“Not your presence.” Urban clarified.

“We want to have a threesome. With you. As long as you’re comfortable with it. You don’t need to give us an answer now, think about it.” Jack reassured you and you nodded. You didn’t need to think about it, you knew the answer, but you didn’t want either of them to know how eager you were.

“I’ll think about it.” Just like Jack and Urban both liked you, you liked both of them. Other than your one previous hookup with Urban, you had been afraid to take your relationship with either of them further. Though your friendship bordered something more than a normal friendship. 

You decided to wait a few days to tell them your decision, and in those days, neither Jack nor Urban questioned you about it. They didn’t want you to feel pressured. You took the opportunity to tease them though, brushing up against them when you walked past them, or wearing something slightly more revealing than you normally would. While you weren’t sure if they would notice, they did. 

After a couple of days, you finally told both of them that you had made your decision. After that, it wasn’t long until you were lying in Jack’s bed, your clothes already removed except for the lingerie that you had put on in preparation, but the lace wasn’t leaving much to the imagination. 

Jack attached his lips to yours, letting his hands roam your body. Urban climbed on the bed, hovering over your body as he pressed kisses all the way from your hip to your chest. As Urban approached your chest he reached up and pulled one side of your bra down to expose your breast. Urban’s tongue immediately found your nipple, circling it a few times before gently grazing his teeth over it, making you moan, arching your back slightly as he continued to kiss up the rest of your chest and neck. Once he reached your jaw, Jack pulled away, Urban reaching up to pull your head towards him, kissing you.

Jack reached behind you, you pushed your arched off the bed again to help Jack unhook your bra before he pulled it off, discarding it onto the floor. While Urban let his hand roam down to the hem of your remaining lingerie.

“Are you going to be good for us pretty girl?” Jack asked, standing next to the bed as he took off the clothes he had on. You nodded eagerly as Urban’s thumb found your clit, you letting out a gasp.

“Use your words.” Urban reminded you.

“Yes. I’m going to be good for you.” You moaned out, Urban pulled his thumb away from your clit, your hips trying to chase his hand, already missing the contact. Urban pulled down the remaining clothing piece you had on, before Jack got back on the bed, switching with Urban who stood up to take off his clothes.

“Good girl.” Jack said, hovering over you, his tongue finding its way to your clit as two of his fingers thrusted into you. Due to the built up anticipation, it didn’t take much before you felt a tightness in your stomach and you were coming undone around Jack’s fingers. Urban pumped himself a few times with his own hand while he watched you and Jack.

“Okay, my turn.” Urban said, getting back on the bed. “On your hands and knees.” Urban told you and you complied. Jack moved out of Urban’s way, moving towards the head board. Urban slowly pushed his dick into you until his hips met yours, giving you a minute to adjust.

You tried to push your hips into Urban’s signaling him to move, but he held your hips still for another minute. He desperately wanted to start thrusting into you immediately, and the moan he let out when he pushed into you let you know that, but he also wanted to make sure you were ready.

“You good?” Urban asked and you nodded.

“Yes, please move.” You begged, and Urban nodded, moving his hands to your waist as he started to thrust into you, both of you letting out moans as he moved. You timed your hips so you could meet Urban’s hips with his thrusts.

“Open your mouth.” Jack said, and you did, looking up at Jack as you took the tip of his dick in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his tip a couple of times before you took more of him in your mouth. “Fuck.” Jack moaned, throwing his head back.

Urban quickened his thrusts, making you moan again. Jack pulled your hair into a ponytail with one of his hands, pushing himself further into your mouth, stopping once he hit the back of your throat, making you gag.

“You’re doing so good.” Urban praised. Jack continued to thrust into your mouth as Urban moved his hands to your hips.

Jack pulled out of your mouth and you looked up at him confused.

“I want to cum in you.” Jack said as he let go of your hair. You nodded. You had told both of them that you were on the pill so they could cum inside of you if they wanted. 

Urban pulled out of you as well, guiding you to lay on your back before he pushed inside of you again, his thrusts barely finding a steady rhythm before you came, squeezing around his dick as you did. Urban’s thrusts became unsteady, a sign that he was going to cum soon.

After a few more thrusts, Urban reached his orgasm, releasing inside of you. He slowed his thrusts, working you both through your orgasms before pulling out of you completely. Jack had moved to his back.

“You think you can handle one more for me?” Jack asked you as he pushed your hair out of your face. You nodded as you caught your breath. 

Jack used his hands to guide your hips to straddle his. Both of you moaning as you lowered yourself onto him. You almost immediately started to move your hips up and down, your boobs bouncing as you did, Jack’s hands making their way to your boobs, his thumbs brushing your nipples.

Jack’s hands brushed your sides as they landed onto your hips, guiding them. As you both continued to moan, Jack pushed his hips up in time with your thrusts, helping you so you didn’t have to do all of the work.

Jack eventually flipped you over once he could tell you had gotten tired. Jack guided your legs to be placed behind his back, using one of his hands to push your leg back more while his other was placed next to your head to steady himself. The new angle making Jack reach a different angle, causing you to moan louder. You gripped his wrist that was by your head, digging your nails into his skin, while your other hand gripped the bedsheets. 

You leaned over to kiss Urban, the hand that was gripping the bed sheets going to grip his hair, the kiss quieting your moans.

You and Jack were both already close, Jack from the blow job you were giving him and you from the two previous orgasms you had so it didn’t take much for you to reach your peaks. You and Jack both came at the same time, Jack also working you through both of your orgasms before laying down on the other side of you.

You and Jack both caught your breaths while Urban reached down in between your legs. Urban collected some of the cum that was spilling out of you with his finger, brushing your clit as he did.

“I can’t.” You said quietly.

“It’s okay, you did great.” Urban reassured you before lifting his finger to your mouth, you wrapped your lips around it, collecting the cum with your tongue before swallowing it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Jack said, kissing the top of your head before the two stood up to grab a towel, cleaning you off and them themselves.

The three of you laid in bed, partially still catching your breaths.

“I don’t think that will be the last time we’re doing that.” Urban said.

“Maybe if you both request it for your next birthday.” You teased.

“Or, maybe for yours.” Jack said.

“I wouldn’t object. I don’t think this is a one time thing.” You admitted.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it just as much as I did.” Jack said.

“Me too.” Urban agreed.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree @harlowslefttoe @twerkforambrose @jackmans-poison @ilovenudy @taniapri @killatravtramp @easternparkway @macey234 @toocriticalharlow @lightsoutstyles @rachxc13 @iknowdatsrightbih @idktbh101 @blossomluvv @middlechild404

[itjazzbicch]

In The Midnight Sky

Pairing: Nozel Silva x (Commoner) Cosmic Magic-User! Reader 

Summary: Finally accomplishing their dream of becoming a magic knights captain and celebrating with the other captains, the reader realizes one captain isn't so fond of them and wonders why...

Warnings:  N/A (First time writing Nozel so I hope I did well!)

Word Count: 1.6k

"Let's all say-" I had never felt happier in my life, watching from my seat at the table in the bar, surrounded by my fellow magic knight captains as Captain Vangeance rose his glass up, congratulating me, "Congratulations to Y/N for being an amazing magic knight, now a captain of her very own squad, the Midnight Sky." 

"Yeah, congratulations!" An already drunk Yami slurred out alongside an even more intoxicated Jack, offering, "Have some drinks!"  

"Why, thank you," I chuckled, not only taking my drink but since I did have a free night, I decided to drink a little more along with them. 

Most of the other captains were just as kind and accepting, thankfully not as drunk as Yami and Jack though. It was a great way to end such a perfect day, except it wasn't the end. Not that I knew it yet. 

Only one captain didn't agree with this decision and that was Nozel. Not having a clue as to why upset me. I can't recall a time when I was rude, improper, or unprofessional around him. Maybe because I was a commoner? I have overheard Nozel's royal attitude before. 

That was my only guess, and I was curious as to why he was even here with all of us. Only having a glass of wine, maintained his distance, not joining the toast. He was something else, but I wasn't going to let it ruin my day. 

"Congratulations once again, Captain Y/N," Everyone was leaving and they made sure to say their final goodbyes for the evening, Captain Vangence making me laugh while apologizing: 

"And I apologize for my friend's drunken behavior." 

"No need to apologize. We all need a drink sometimes, am I right?" I assured them it was no issue, earning a smile back from the Captain: 

"Suppose you're not wrong. Goodnight, Captain." 

I knew that I was never going to get tired of hearing that word. Captain. I stood there smiling as I looked back on my entire life, and how I worked so hard to get to this point. Never felt so happy and accomplished, till a serious mood crashed down on me: 

"Just know, as a captain, you have serious duties and responsibilities now. Don't think it will be so easy. It's not meant for everyone." 

Nozel. He was the last to leave, walking past me, but before he got too far, I shut the door, asking with his back facing me: 

"Is there a particular reason that you don't like me, Captain Nozel?" 

If I was going to be a captain, I didn't want to start with any issues. This was probably the only time I'd ever catch him alone, so I could ask. 

Those blue eyes darted at me from a distance with a turn of his head, through that silver braid. I must admit, it was a bit intimidating, but I kept my manner, bowing to him: 

"I swear to you, Captain Nozel! All I ever wanted to be my entire life was to become a magic knights captain! I want to protect this kingdom and all its people. I swear, I have no kind of ill intentions and if I have ever done anything to disrespect you, I give you my deepest apologies." 

The moment of silence made me even more nervous, listening as if I was just a magic knight on his squad as he commanded: 

"Stand up. That's not necessary." 

Standing up straight with my hands behind my back, I could only maintain eye contact and hope for the best, but grew more nervous while listening to his authoritative tone: 

"It takes someone strong to be a captain, more than just magical abilities. It-" 

His words alone showed me what I had to do, not liking that I had to interrupt him, putting out my question: 

"Pardon me, but do you even remember my abilities? Let alone my accomplishments." 

"Is that a challenge?" Oh, great! He turned all the way around, head held high, and I tried my best not to panic, taking a breath before I stepped up to him: 

"That silver eagle that you fly on, make one for us, and let's go out to the mountain where you can see the capital."  

"And why's that?"  

"We are fellow captains now. Is it hard to have a little faith in your comrade?" Hoping my kindness and smile would charm him, I jumped for joy behind his back as he turned and made his silver eagle using his mercury magic.  

I tried to hide my excitement as I climbed on carefully, sitting in silence as he took us over the mountain. A smile was on my face when I realized that the sky was clear and there was a full moon. That was going to make my task a whole lot easier.  

"So, you plan on showing me that you're worthy," Nozel spoke while I climbed off, following me with crossed arms, "Show me." 

"Yes sir," Taking a step toward the edge we were near, I closed my eyes and felt the wind blowing past me, slightly chilly but I didn't mind in the slightest, smiling more as I took out my grimoire: 

"Cosmic magic, star shower." 

I made sure to turn my head to see Nozel's reaction. At first, he was confused, not seeing anything happening in front of him, till I pointed behind him and informed him: 

"Try looking that way." 

He did as so, able to hear his gasp being taken by the wind, a sky full of stars waving over with a cloud that gave off every color of the rainbow, illuminated by shooting stars passing by. From end to end, as far as the eye could see, there were stars and it truly looked like magic glazing upon the kingdom.

"I can do more than just that. I could summon a meteorite if I had to, make a star explode," I said seriously to him as he turned with a slightly shocked expression, "But it was already a beautiful evening, so why not add to it?" 

"Y/N-" Just the expansion in his eyes alone showed that even he was blown away by this and just to make sure that he had no other thoughts about me, I gave him our salute, admitting and swearing: 

"When I was a child, I lost my mother and father to the conflicts of this world. I never want anyone ever to experience the pain that I have. That is why I swear, as the Captain of the Midnight Sky, I will protect my team, my comrades, and every single person in this kingdom, with all the power in my being even if it cost me my life. As long as this heart is still beating, every time darkness tries to come near us, I fill it with stars and bring in the light." 

I had to close my eyes and take a breath, maybe those few drinks made me a bit more emotional, fighting some tears, off guard and a bit confused when I felt a warm palm on my cheek, thumb wiping away a tear, Nozel's voice as soft and sweet as anything I've ever heard: 

"No need to cry. You know, it's not because I never liked you or thought that you weren't worthy of being a captain." 

"What is it then?" My eyes opened quickly and his hand on my cheek gave me an idea. His cheeks turned red while he gazed away, trying to think of how to explain, finding it in the heat of the moment: 

"This is why." 

The wind passing by stole all the oxygen in me right as Nozel's lips met mine, someone who seemed to be so cold having so much heat radiating from him, lips soft and tender with every touch, that hand on my cheek finding my shoulder, one arm wrapped around them and the other around my hip to keep an embrace. 

I've never felt such passion, Nozel being the last person I expected it from, eyes opening wide as our lips parted and he let go of me.  

"N-Nozel-"  

"Pardon my behavior," There he was, more flustered than before, "I just-" 

"It's okay," Snapping out of my shock, I understood what he meant, taking his hand softly, "I can tell you're not the best at expressing your feelings and that's okay. I understand." 

That made him smile slightly, squeezes my hand into his softness, becoming the one who was flustered as he asked shyly: 

"Congratulations on becoming Captain of your squad. Your power is like nothing I've ever seen. And maybe, well, we can go out sometime." 

"Nozel, are you asking me out on a date?" I wasn't trying to tease; I couldn't believe this was happening! 

"Yes-" His gaze reconnected and was as deep as ever, "I am." 

"Well," I smiled, wanting to ease the nervousness from the both of us, showing that I had emotion too, and since he kissed me first, I kissed this time, "I accept. Just name the time and place." 

"I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow," He smiled back, giving me one last peck before I pulled away. 

Tonight didn't go how I saw it going, but gosh I couldn't stop smiling now. Not sure if Nozel knew of this ability of mine or not, I took a few steps back towards that same edge, levitating off the ground.  

"I'm looking forward to it, Nozel," Blowing a kiss and winking, a brighter smile on my face before I left off into the stars, his eyes in awe of my smile disappearing into the star-filled, midnight sky, "Goodnight and sweet dreams."

[manwrre]

give me ANY cult-y or hyper-religious harringrove fic and watch me lose my mind fr. esp if one of them isn’t human and is doing the corrupting or persuading the other into committing blasphemy?? like, imagine…

steve has lived in the village his entire life. it’s what’s been expected of him— what’s been expected of them all. in that same way that it was expected of his parents and his parents’ parents and their parents’ parents and the grapevine of those who came alongside and, before them.

they are never to leave.

never to ask questions.

never to disobey the village head. just pray and pray and pray.

to be good to one’s neighbor and to pray and pray and pray.

to exhibit both a sound mind and a clean heart and remember, you must praypraypraypraypray.

to work hard and abstain and refuse the temptation of anything and everything beyond the village boundaries.

because beyond the sweeping trees and green canopies, there was nothing good.

there was hell and starvation. there was sin and carnality and they were blessed to have been absolved for generations. they were blessed to be able to live on the land of god; to be the chosen few.

except, steve hasn’t felt blessed for quite a while now. in fact, he hasn’t felt anything but afraid.

afraid because the village is all that he has ever known. he’s bathed in every surrounding creek and has explored every clearing. he’s harvested in the spring and lends a hand, cooking all communal meals during the winter. he attends church and kisses his parents goodnight and smiles at the people he’s grown up with. he teaches the small group of kids who live within their community and he’s afraid

because something has been hunting them.

and steve may just be a measly teacher at the age of nineteen but he notices when the first boy goes missing.

a quiet child, by the name of daniel. twelve years old and always so friendly.

and at first, everyone assumes that he’s drowned or has been attacked by a wild animal. that is, until he’s found at the edge of the woods; perfectly whole but so very cold. gone to meet their maker.

so steve prays for their protection and safety—the entire village does and they believe it to be done

but a week later, henry is gone.

then emory,

little silas,

and now, will.

all into the woods, they’ve disappeared without a trace. only to be found days later, seemingly unharmed if not for the stillness of their chests.

and he has heard the stories, of course. he’s listened to the nursery rhymes and old wive’s tales about what evil has spilled into the trees surrounding their homes but now, he believes.

there’s something in the woods and it is taking people. there’s something in the woods and it will kill them all.

so when he decides that enough is enough and goes out looking for will, imagine his surprise when he stumbles upon someone else.

a boy.

pale-haired and blue eyed; his gaze too bright and his stance, much too relaxed for someone in the woods at night. steve’s certain he has never seen him before—he’s sure he would remember someone so golden and so pretty. and yet, the boy looks at him like they’re familiar. like, he knows him.

“i was beginning to think you’d never come.” the blond grins.

and steve swallows, suddenly; staring as the stranger’s lips stretch around a mouthful of too sharp, too raptorial teeth and thinks,

oh.

there’s something in the woods and he’s met it.

[galar-abortion-clinic]

Hihihi so I am half awake so liiiiiike for the emoji asks

Jules: 🌨️ ☕️🧠

Screwis: 👁❗️🦷

AND FOR MY WILD CARD, RUFUS: 💝✨️🐰

And uuuuuh lemme toss in a random one that you can answer for anyone: 🧁

I am so overtired it's almost 11 goodnight ily k bye <3

YIPPEE thanx for the free Ramble Out To The Void About Your OCs ticket baby, love you (👉 ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)👉

Jules:

🌨️ - If this oc had a day free from all their responsibilities, how would they spend it?

His first impulse would be going around pestering others to entertain himself lmao he’s a social creature through and through, BUT he could easily get lost in a project and spend the whole day tinkering by himself with spare parts. He has yet to actually invent anything that works but it’s only a matter of time before that changes, right?

☕ - What is their preferred beverage(s)?

A beverage is like, any *non-water* drink, right? My man’s got a fierce sweet tooth, he could get down with just about any tongue-stingingly sugary drink indiscriminately, but i think he’s best out of all my ocs about staying hydrated. He’s got one of those water bottles marathon runners use. Yknow the ones with a mist feature that he constantly sprays himself with by accident. Also enjoys sparkling water cos IT TASTES LIKE 1,200 VOLTS!!!

🧠 - What is their stress response: fight, flight, freeze, or fawn?

Always defaults to fawn, he hates conflict terribly and doesn’t want anyone to come away from a situation with hurt feelings. He’s not a doormat, just wants to be fair to all parties and (foolishly) assumes the best of everyone. If pushed, though, or if someone he cares about is put on the spot, he’ll fight. Would prefer not to tho, and he’d be pretty sad it got to that point

Screwis:

👁️ - How do other people perceive this oc? How close do their first assumptions come to the truth?

At first blush he’s got that distinct ~tall dark and handsome badboy~ vibe that isn’t entirely a mischaracterization, but also doesnt even begin to cover it. People start off drawn to his charm and rebellious nature only to realize he’s a juvenile clown who uses the ol hand buzzer gag when he gets to second base. Hes genuinely unhinged in the unsexiest way, just wait til he gets old n’ ugly like the rest of us

❗- What are the highest priorities to this oc (at a point in their life of your choosing)?

In his own words, gettin’ tail and having a good laugh. Im pretty sure he justifies every major life decision with “wouldnt it be funny?” Terrorized his local community for the lulz, squandered all career opportunities for a cheap joke, moved regions for a fresh start and fucked it all up with more clownery, joined a band for the spectacle, etc etc. He basically functions as a personal horror story of compulsive self-sabotage

🦷 - Would this oc ever bite someone?

Oh yeah

Rufus:

💝 - How much effort do they put into appearances? Do they have a favorite article of clothing?

She assembles outfits with purpose, but also doesn’t like to spend more than 20ish minutes on prettying up. Usually I’ll give ocs piercings cos body mods are super important to me but rufus is the exception since those are a bad idea for fighting. He favors practicality over fashion, but can appreciate when there’s an overlap. For example he loves spikes, and patches up tears in his clothes with grey and light blue fabrics (his favorite colors)

✨ - Tell something that makes this oc feel happy!

Getting punched in the mouth, because that means she gets to retaliate. She’s far from a righteous plucky shounen protag but insists she’s the good guy, so she’ll reference having this undefined Warrior Code Of Honor that constantly adapts to whatever makes her the hero of a given scenario. He also loves catching low-gliding whimsicott out of the air and making wishes :3

🐰 - How huggable is this oc?

Depends on what youve done to “earn” a hug. She’ll squeeze you like a pinsir’s vise grip, feels pretty good if you need your back cracked. He always hugs two and half a seconds longer than youd expect him to. Pros: feels warm, embraces fully and firmly, not opposed to lifting you if desired. Cons: skin feels a little rough, rigid and stiff hold, 50% chance she’ll whisper something threatening in your ear before letting go

Jacqui:

🧁 - When is their birthday? How do they celebrate it, if at all?

Her birthday is March 8, making her a pisces if that means anything to you :} When she was still active as a performance poet she’d have an annual reading of obituaries for people who died on the same day, followed by an artsy grim and shocking “event” like serving individual spoiled ingredients instead of a birthday cake or tearing a cocktail dress off of herself to reveal an sfx suit of fake guts n gore underneath. Her niche fanbase really misses it

[moomstersnuffer]

Excuse my language and ranting before hand:

I hate every single fucking person who has hated on Taehyung in the past three-four days. I hate them all. He's done nothing but share wholesome moments and memories with ARMY and this is what he gets?! God, bless his heart for always treating ARMY so kindly and giving us his all. I'm ashamed of what this fandom has become. Hateful spiteful people who seem to have nothing better to do except spread this backlash against the very boys who have treated us with the utmost care and love for the past 11 years.

First it's the fucking Jikook shippers calling Taehyung names and accusing him of anything and everything under the sun, and now it's ARMY themselves assuming the worst from a simple photo of french fries?! The fuck is wrong with everyone?! Have you forgotten the person behind the camera? Have you forgotten that beautiful kindhearted soul who has given us so much love, more love than we deserve?

I wish I knew I was talking sense into everyone by saying all this but I know a random ARMY'S post on Tumblr won't do much. Never seems to do anything really. I just wish people would learn to stop and consider if what they're assuming is really logical or if it is or is not fueled by jealousy and greed(talking to the shippers here). Heck, I'm a shipper myself! Not the same ship, of course, but never, in my five years of experience in the fanbase, have I seen such hate from a ship group. It's absolutely insane and it makes me so fucking ashamed to be a part of a fanbase who hates on their idols like nobody’s business!

Can we even call ourselves ARMY anymore? I feel like we are not deserving of a title after all of this. I don't think we deserve a comeback from these boys either. They've given their blood, sweat, and tears to make us happy and we turn on them in an instant. What kind of a fan-idol relationship is that?!

I'm so proud of those who are trying so hard to turn the tables and support Taehyung. Gives me a little bit of hope at least.

Anyways, that's all I wanted to say. Had a lot of stuff to get off my chest before I go cry into my pillow. It really hurts to see the kind of hate, the sheer amount of hate being throw at Taehyung. I wish more people could see as well.

Goodnight, Tumblr.

[fuck-customers]

I've submitted a few times about my Store Manager and the wildly unprofessional things he's done... This time I'm coming here with a story about a crazy customer.

So we were running a promotion for three days where you get a free item with no purchase necessary. Now I'm sure everyone who has done those types of promotions knows the inevitable fact of running out of the item and sometimes there will be customers who are mad and then there are some who are completely cool with it. Well last night I had a customer who freaked out and almost did not leave the store till I called my store manager. So let me start this by saying we ran out of the item the second day of the promotion, we had over 165 pieces and it was gone in 48 hours which is surprising but also not seeing as how it was a cheap small screwdriver. Yesterday was the end of the promotion and everyone was cool with the fact that we ran out of them until a Karen came in and asked if we had any, my cashier told her that we unfortunately ran out. She started to cuss him out and asked to speak to the manager on duty, that unfortunately would be me because we only need two people to close the store, he calls me up and starts to explain what's going on and she completely butts into it and starts angrily telling me that her husband shops here all the time and spends money here all the time and how it's unfair to him that he missed out on the promotion because other people came in and didn't buy anything but still got a free item. She then started to demand I give her a free item of equal value and was refusing to let me talk. The time I was able to talk and try to defuse the situation, she wasn't listening or making an attempt to be civil. Luckily there were other customers so I told her firmly "I cannot do that, the promotion was for a specific item, there is nothing I can do and I will not give you the screwdriver you have there for that price. Goodnight" and I walked away to help my cashier with something, she followed and was arguing the entire way and I ignored her because I made my decision and that was it. I had to leave the register and go check something a few steps away with a customer and while we were looking at an item he wanted but we didn't have, I saw her poke her head around the corner and stare at me then try to wave me over. I shook my head and waved her away because I knew what was coming next, she then started yelling at me from the end of the aisle. I apologized to the customer and walked up to the front to finish this talk. She demanded to speak to my store manager because he "helped with stuff like this before" and that's when I realized two things, one she's a known scam artist and does this often to us and two my store manager gives her this stuff to avoid dealing with her. That's why I was having to fight so hard to get her to understand. I finally say "Do you want me to call my boss then?" She happily agrees and I called him. He said everything I said about no substitutes for the free item, no exceptions. She was not happy, she was even more angry. So I decided to try and help and gave her a raincheck for it, basically I gave her a slip to get it in a 30 day timeframe for that price because we were out. I told her I don't think it'll work but she didn't care, she took it and as she was leaving she just kept arguing and shit. This all finished by 8:08pm and we closed at 8pm. Really caused a big commotion and pissed me off. I hate rude people

Posted by admin Rodney.

[bakery-anon]

Hello my loves, it’s that time again! The time when I must bid you all goodnight!!! I was hoping to catch up on fics today but…as we can see that did not happen. I very much needed the day to rest though, back on the school grind tomorrow </3

I hope you all had the loveliest days <3 you’re all amazing and deserve to only have the best days imaginable. You deserve kindness and love, even from yourself. Please remember to be kind to yourselves. Take breaks when needed, get enough sleep, eat food, drink water (your official reminder). Be kind to yourself because not everyone will be.

Remember that love isn’t supposed to come with exceptions or expectations. Love is supposed to be freely given to people, you don’t need to do a song and dance for someone to love you. Love can be quiet, love can be loud. Love is something that every person deserves. If no one else has told you today, I love you. I’m proud of you, you’re doing a good job. Being a person is hard and you’re trying your best so I’m proud of you.

Communicate your boundaries with people, if they love you they’ll respect them. If they don’t care about you they won’t and you don’t need those people in your life. If someone is hurting you cut them off if you’re able to (please seek help if you need it. It doesn’t make you weak). Being a person is one of the hardest things to be, you have all kinds of responsibilities. Remember to take time for you away from those responsibilities.

I hope you found a reason to smile today. Even if it was a small one, it’s not stupid if it made you happy. Try and find something to make you smile every day, even if it’s the same thing every day.

Goodnight everyone, sleep well. Mwah! That was a forehead kiss because I love you guys and wish you all the best. Sweet dreams my loves, back to cause chaos tomorrow <33

-love bug <3 🍪

[cherubinym]

Entry 02 / Xiu Hua

(strained misery in voice as dogs outside wont stop fucking barking) im t i r ed of this.

pleasereadthishaha

tumblr you bitch do nOT 144p my thumbnail sketch wtf

===========================================

CHAPTER 15 SPOILERS

===========================================

-----

Entry 02

My name is Xiu Hua. I undertook the archetype for the first time today.

It did not reject me, but... the results are less than satisfactory.

I am currently under watch. It has not taken rapid effect... or appeared to take much effect at all. Apparently, I fell unconscious upon the process, which is why they glare at me so.

According to Them. I do not know the specifics of their wish, besides a desperate grasp for life. Even as a previous overseer, whom looked upon these experiments from their ranks before.

Whatever I could do to help everyone, I would.

That aside, they are putting me through this ... thing. To record my thoughts. They don’t know if or when I’ll die yet.

If I make it through the night, I suppose we’ll have an update, hm?

-

Entry 02.1

I made it through the night.

In terms of the experiment, this is good news.

In terms of my comfort, quite the opposite. While not dead... it appears I have fallen ill.

They claim I was one of the successes, yet it feels uncomfortably hot and overwhelming.

Is this what eternal life is?

I’d rather all live without it, then.

-

Entry 02.2

Apology, for being so dramatic.

The “fever” (so they claim it was) seems to have cleared up.

So, I guess it wasn’t all that bad now. I’m not in stable condition, but I was able to walk around without assistance.

Can’t say the same for my roommate in this place.

It’s not easy to be the one to watch someone slowly descend into agony.

I’ve watched it from afar before, but there’s something unsettling about having to be the one to watch it alone.

Poor, poor Ken.

He couldn’t even speak to me.

I couldn’t find the strength to comfort him, either.

-

Entry 02.3

Almost a full recovery. They’re pleasantly surprised, and so am I. Without the pleasant part.

They say if another day passes in stable condition, I’ll be able to start attending the physical tests.

I personally never oversaw those. If what I’ve heard is anything to go by, though...

Oh God, help me.

... two more passed in the night, too.

It’s lucky enough to be able to process the archetype in the first place.

Is the uncertain future worth the high death rate of this.

I think it is. Maybe I’m just speaking for them though. Maybe it was never my words at all.

-

Entry 02.4

In a fascinating turn of events, I got to avoid the bullet hell for another day.

They’re still having me record these, by the way. I think that they think I’ll just shrivel up and die any second now from this. I don’t blame them. I’m pretty skinny, not the most muscular. I’m sure I barely made the physical cut. Or maybe the overseer status granted entryway.

I don’t have time to think about that, though.

... Oh, and that turn of events?

Just a security issue. No big deal. Only five people died.

-

Entry 02.5

They say you cannot run from fate, and it seems I’ve met that match-- for the equivalent of a mad scientist’s P.E. class.

Never liked gym. This is no exception.

At least they had the SENSE to allow me to test the shield conjuring before throwing me into the ring.

Which, I passed. Cool.

(Not. I hate this.)

Yes they read all this, and no, they do not care. That’s obvious enough.

I only got grazed on the arm once. Holding up those shields was... a difficult task. I’m utterly exhausted.

I think I caught a random cold, too. My voice is kind of gone. One of the new subjects must have brought it in. Prick.

Let me swear, ######. Let me in!!!

... Goodnight.

-

Entry 02.6

My voice is completely gone this morning.

To double down on the misfortune, I still have to go through physical tests today, because I feel completely fine physically.

What a bother.

I kind of just want to go home.

-

Entry 02.7

It has been a while since my last entry.

My voice has remained nil, with no luck on my nurse’s part in restoring it.

On the second day of training,

I watched a fellow subject, Jessica, fail her turn.

So many bullets...

She couldn’t...

Oh my god there were so many bullets.

I could only hear her cry for her mother.

God...

...

The overseers didn’t make the rest of the subjects go on with their parts that day.

That’s a rare moment of compassion on their part.

I’m logging out early today. I’m already feeling tired again.

...

Jess...

-

Entry 02.8

Everything is hellfire.

Goodnight.

-

Entry 02.9

I can finally think of something other than how I feel again.

I wish they would just let me go, but they seem determined for my recovery.

Long story short? I failed a session of the training. The archetype faltered, and I could not conjure the necessary defenses.

How annoying.

To be one of the unluckiest, yet the luckiest.

Their faces are but a blur now.

At least my NEW roommate is cheery. Her name is Lunala. She talks enough for the both of us. I can live with that. It’s better than sitting in morbid silence.

I want to tell her it’s not worth it, but obviously

my voice is no longer my own.

-

Entry 02.92

Can the heavens reject me already?

Thanks. I don’t want to be here anymore.

I moved enough to where they decided sending me back to training was Fine.

Couldn’t object. There would be no use in it either.

The shields didn’t fail me this time, at least.

#######:####, logging off.

-

Entry 02.94

I said reject me.

Me.

Not her.

Not. her.

I can’t see her anymore.

But I could feel her dying breath.

I wish I could keep giving it back to her,

over, and over, and over.

Because I don’t want my own anymore.

-

Entry 02.96

......

P-please... just tell me what You want f-from me.

I can’t stand it anymore.

Everything is hellfire.

The Light burns.

It burns. It burns.

I know I’m doing well, but it isn’t about that anymore.

Just let us go home.

I’ll do it myself if you don’t let me---

-

Entry 02.98

. . . If it will let us be painless, then -

it’s best to Know.

Was resiliency of One really worth everything else it took to get there?

...

Oh, me? I can’t move.

Can’t see.

Can’t speak.

Can’t breathe.

But I’ll never have to move again.

-

Entry 3.0

This will be her final entry.

The Stars are Falling.

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

PROJECT:FATE

[charlieirons]

Will they let me over if I cross The Line?

Goodnight, grandma.

It’s a pretty loving, innocuous thing to say, and for the better part of three years, as I lived sequestered with my aging and ailing grandparents in the family home in Campbell, California I would close every night by checking in on my grandmother before bed; recounting the day, and chores to be still done the coming days and weeks.

But on the evening of Friday, April 15th, 2011 “Goodnight, grandma” would make the first of two radical changes to me; and one later on for my family…

I suppose it’s best to start more toward the beginning, and I’d be happy to, if it weren’t such a convoluted mess to here from there. Of the entire thing I can say that, as the black sheep of the family – trying to be a man of reason, education, and all that – growing up in a conservative fundamental family bore a great deal of emotional weight. Ours was not a loving, nurturing family, but one based on superiority of righteousness and shaming of those perceived lower.

So, I was targeted a lot by my grandparent’s Christian love.

I would later come to find that my entire immediate family was at the receiving of their gracious and tender affections, but I think those are family traumas best left to us for the time being.

But, to the end of it, I spent my entire life seeking the love and affection… and most of all the acceptance… of the patriarch and matriarch of my mother’s family, who pretty much controlled most of how our lives were supposed to be led. Which they dished out from on high, with a bible in one hand, and judgmental condemnation from their mouths.

As a quick overview, my family were the exact kind of people who would come to start “religious deconstruction”; a social movement in which younger generations would reevaluate their Christian upbringing, and eventually leave the church. This movement continues today, to the worry of the religious power structure, to the point that some of the newest generations don’t even identify with ever having been religious at all.

The idea was quite simple, really; when younger church goers start practicing what they were preached at with they find themselves at odds with those who did the preaching. I mean, you can’t – with one hand – tell people to be accepting, charitable, giving, and to give care and shelter to the immigrants and then turn around and barf hate, greed, racism, and classism.  

So that was my family. And it was doubly odd since my grandfather had left NASA to get into the family business of his family’s god as a minister; with just about everyone in my family active in “the ministry” except me. So, to my confusion – being decades ahead of the deconstruction movement – that a NASA engineer and a medical nurse… and a family of talented engineers and thinkers… would so unabashedly abandon the mind for… well, for everything that wasn’t.

And, as the first-born grandchild, there was this level that was expected of me in my part of this family that not only did I opt not to take, but actively spoke out against.

I guess it’s fair to say that I spent my entire adult life at odds with my family, and in an awkward, often painful, adversarial relationship with my maternal grandparents.

Despite all this I did love my family and my grandparents, even though not being able to get them to even ask me about my life, rather than just damning me for it. And so, in 2008 – as the economy took yet another dive (Because life in America, amiright?) – I found myself living in the family home in Campbell, Ca, trying to get back on my feet and making my keep by helping out around the house. (I guess it pays to have a grandson who is a professional maintenance tech.)

There’s good and bad memories in that time. But it was supposed to be a temporary passing. Until their health began to slip. My award winning NASA engineer grandfather had developed Alzheimer’s and my grandmother developed a hear condition. And when I finally managed a place equidistant from them and work, they told me they’d prefer me to stay at the house. Which I did.

For three years, telling no one.

I don’t know exactly why I felt I had to keep this a secret, but I felt I should. I don’t know if my cousins even knew, but as the rest of them – four, plus my sister – were married and had families, me being without those responsibilities seemed like a no-brainer perfect fit; fulfilling my duties as the first born grandchild.

Between work and their needs my hands were full through the week. Weekends the two aunts who were running the show would let me slip out for a break (Which would be one of the very few kindnesses they’d ever show me.) and I would run off to see friends at clubs at other activities, or spend a night or two in a nice hotel with the horrible mistake I was seeing at that point in my life. (Bitter? Nah, not me.)

And so, on that Friday evening in April I was in the house washroom, which was across from the door to the master bedroom, washing up and getting a few things together for a short outing when my grandmother called me in to talk. We did that often, as they had both – in that final year – actually stopped blanket condemning me and had started actually inquiring about my beliefs and motivations and the other things that made up my life. (Shocked the fuck out of me, let me tell you what.) And that’s what I figured it must be as I stepped into the room to talk with her.

It was, of course, not.

There was no chit-chat, no nuance, no subtlety around it, it just dropped out of her face; I was a disappointment. More to the point, not only was I a disappointment, but I had no relationship with her god, my health was always bad, I hadn’t accomplished anything, and I was going to die alone, which she found most troublesome strangely enough.

I remember standing there dumbfounded in shock. I had just given up three years of my life to care for them. During that time I had recovered my career from an economic recession, and was still occasionally performing on stage, as well as making my own comics and getting actively involved in that community. I had already survived cancer and had left my childhood infirmaries behind decades past. I had quite literally beaten all the odds my pedestrians had laid out for me and was a tough, outgoing, and pretty self-sufficient man.

It was an awkward minute of silence before I could make words; to which all I could say was, “I’m sorry I didn’t turn out to be the man you wanted me to be, grandma.”  At that point her face said something I couldn’t read. So all I had was my customary “Goodnight, grandma,” and added something to the affect of loving her and would se her when I got back.

Goodnight, Grandma. That would turn out to be the last words we would ever share.

I got home on April 17th, 2011 to find grandma unresponsive. My aunts had informed me her condition deteriorated over the weekend and tonight might be it. And it was.

A handful of us sat with her until she finally past. We then excused ourselves so grandpa could be alone with the now deceased love of his entire life. (This would begin the year from hell that would be his final year in the waking world. But that’s another story.) The only thing of that night I can recall with any veracity is watching the stark white van of the county coroner driving off with the body who had once been my grandmother. I stood there alone, outside, on the curb way longer than the van was even on our street.

I also remember the two distinct feelings going through my mind at that moment. The first left me feeling guilty in that I had now outlived my life’s greatest adversary, and that felt wholly righteous to do so as her unwavering devotion to her god gave way to the fear of dying. To this day I really have no explanation as to why that came over me, but there it was.

And, of course, there were our parting words. I sometimes think back and wonder if she had, in that moment, regretted what she said. She so rarely admitted anything to be a mistake, that maybe that’s why I couldn’t read her face that night. And maybe that’s why those words hung in the air after stabbing me so deeply. I wonder if she even thought about apologizing, waiting for me to get home that weekend so we could talk.

I very much doubt it, but I still wonder.

Those words would find their way into the air only one last time. Family and friends had come to the wake to speak to the account of my grandmother and say one last goodbye. In circumstance alone, after everyone had passed the coffin, it was only my first sister and I left. In her weakness she refused to leave the pew. So, with the eyes of generations on me, as well as church leaders, friends, and associates I, alone, approached her.

I have no words that wouldn’t stain the confused mess of feelings I was, looking down at the body that once was Dorothy Maxine Yaggy. It was an empty shell, and it looked wrong. I know I held back a tear being aware that an entire church had their eyes on me. So I smiled, turned, and begun to walk back to me seat. And then that’s when it simply slipped out, like a reflex…

“Goodnight, grandma.”

I’m numb after that. I remember hearing I think my mother start to cry. To be truthsome on it, I vaguely remember anything else of that day. I know some people spoke to me, someone tried to comfort me despite my insistence I was okay. But the rest is just a commotion of voices, colors, and stories. And hugs; lots, and lots of hugs.

My grandmother’s words and deeds in my life have made lasting scars on my soul, as her influence still reaches out from the grave to tighten its stranglehold grip on me. Worse still is seeing her very being now emanating from my own mother as she approaches the age of her mother when she died. (Which has caused me to build a safety wall between us; fortified by 3000 miles of continent.)

But what haunts me most, as I make my own way west to the gate that leads to The Afters is that she was right; I will die alone not having accomplished anything. And of all the things I do not fear this is the one I do; even though my life holds a trove of laughter, friends, found family, lives saved, problems solved, and my own mind expanded in ways that grapple understanding in ways that impress even the spirits. I worry most, now, that I won’t… die well.

I had thought these things all done and buried until late this year, when in the soundtrack to Arcane act 2 “The Line” by 21 Pilots became the runaway smash hit of the album; Tyler Joseph having had penned it around the death of his grandmother. In listening to it, I can hear the love he had for her, and the uncertainty in facing mortality. But quietly, privately, I think his lyrics hit me in a hard way he couldn’t have foreseen. And freely I admit to you here that I cry a little hearing this song and those words “Did I disappoint you? Will they let me over if I cross The Line?”

Goodnight, grandma; hopefully you traveled well. In your life you taught me how to be great by your example of how you weren’t. In your death you showed me courage to face my end in how you didn’t. You left the biggest scar on my soul that would never heal… and it was the greatest gift you could ever give me.

[mariahscorner]

TW: a lot.

people tell me i’m so mature for my age. i hear it from everyone except my family. but i’ve started thinking about why others say that. and the only conclusion i can come to is that being a kid is a privilege. i never had time to be a kid when i was fighting for survival. i see other people my age having fun and going out, swimming and eating those sandwiches with the chips on them that make a big crunch when you bite into it. i never had time to do those things or find out what i truly enjoyed doing. i enjoyed being alive. i enjoyed not being yelled at. i enjoyed when my mom would come home after leaving me home alone with my brother for 4 weekends in a row. i enjoyed eating and sleeping more than anything. i enjoyed having distractions to keep my mind off of the ear-ringingly terrifying thoughts. but i never found out my passion. some kids are born with it. something like music, sports, art, or math that makes them feel alive. their adrenaline came from pure love, not terror. i guess i’m so mature because i’ve been through things that children should not go through. how could i be a kid when i got bullied at school and constantly forced to change myself? how could i be a kid without a father to hold me on his shoulders? how could i be a kid without a mother to kiss me goodnight? how could i be a kid when someone says “that’s a very strong accusation, it could ruin his life”? how could i possibly be a kid when every day is a fight for survival? it’s a lot of pressure to put on a child. and then a part of me thinks, “what would it be like to be a kid again?” what would it be like to be a kid before his death, before her absence, before he touched me, before i had to beg on my knees to be enough? what if i could do it again? right now? and then another, stronger part of me thinks “what if it happens again? remember the last time?” so yes, i’m mature for my age. but it is not a compliment. it is not a testament of how i’ve persevered through struggles. it is a hideous reminder of how i was never allowed to live a normal life, and how i will never be able to.

[theysaidhush]

okay okay. so.

I cannot for the LIFE of me, get the idea of perv!Han going absolutely feral all because you are wearing his hoodie out of my head. like, it's nothing special in your eyes-- you were just cold and wanted to feel the comfort of your boyfriend near you. however, when he came home that night, the stress from practice quickly left him and he now had a new problem to deal with. he would nearly combust when you told him you got your nails done that day-- stiletto nails so you could leave scratches all over his back to show off to his bandmates.

have a good day/night 🤭

You + Jisung's hoodie + Stiletto nails = Jisung going nuts

Okay let me put that nice and clear for everyone, Jisung is a hoodie enthusiast and you can't tell me otherwise. Plus, he looks cute comfy and pretty in it, it's a win win.

Finally answered your ask @lieslovefantasy !!!! Thank you for putting up with me, made it extra long just for you wink wink Hope you'll like it because I'm quite proud of it... Not proofread !!

You love Jisung's hoodie. Like, really love it. But at first it felt weird to ask him to lend it to you. You were not confident - in you or in your relationship - but the thing is that you never asked him if you could ! You were just assuming things because your mind was creating scenarios were you were being mocked and rejected by the love of your life. Ah, seriously, thoughts. Who think nowadays? It's overrated. So you never asked him. How do you expect Jisung - of all people, because for real, he might be the clues lil piece of brioche ever- to know ! He was just living his life, wearing his hoodies and going to the studio every days to do his job, simply hoping to get back to you before midnight - he's a simple person.

And one particular night, as he came back from the studio, he just froze in the entryway and shuddered. Why was he suddenly standing in the middle of the North?! Yu guessed it, it was freezing in your apartment. Not everyone can afford to pay heating system in freakin November. He might as well be outside were winter was knocking and cold was biting. And yet, he did not think twice about it - except for a "poor baby :( " - thinking that you just wanted to save energy - when in fact you were just too poor to afford it - and that you were wrapped in two or three blankets.

And you were. Sitting on the couch, hugging a bit of the blanket while watching your favorite show on tv. You were pretty, as usual, and Jisung, once again, was hit with the fact that you were his girlfriend. His girlfriend who did her best to stay awake at one in the morning in order to have a goodnight kiss. His girlfriend who cooked him dinner and put his plate and a plate cover on top of it in the microwave. His girlfriend whose beaming smile lights up the room when she sees him standing near the door, kicking his shoes and throwing his backpack somewhere near the cupboard.

And when he thought it couldn't be more perfect, that you were just enough and much more, all he needed and wanted for the rest of his life, you proved him wrong. You were so much more perfect than he thought, leaving the warmth of your blanket and wrapping him in a hug, his hoodie riding up when doing so. His hoodie. Around your frame. Wrapping you, making you look so cuddly, so cute, so tiny. So fuckable. But you were a stranger to the thoughts that were raging inside his head, thoughts of making you gag on his dick while massaging your scalp, seeing those oversized sleeve wrap around his dick, fingers peeking from inside the fabric. But he has to kiss you properly and ask you about your day before fucking you dumb! He was a good needy boyfriend who knew how to keep it in his pants when needed - was he though?

Although the way he made you sit on his laps while eating was a tell tale sign that he isn't. If you noticed his hard on you did not say a thing about it and let him eat while listening to him talk about his day with mouth full and round cheeks. He was cute, so you tried really hard to not poke at the chubby side of his pretty face. And that's when he noticed - even if you had to tell him for him to notice. Your long and sharp nails, clicking on your phone every time you were showing him a picture of the nails you wanted to do but that you did not. And he was a goner. You told him about the cute puppy that you met, the texts that you exchanged with your friend, how nice a customer was at work, how you wanted to destroy the world then become president. He did not care. Or did not hear, as a matter of fact. He was too focus on you nails, eyes never leaving your hands, obsessed with the way your fingers and nails were the only things that could be seen before his sleeves. And his mind was running wild, pictures of you naked adjusting with this new information. Thinking about how your stiletto nails - that's how you called it - would graze the tip of his dick, how it would stroke and tease his urinary meatus, run along the veins of his shaft and play with his balls. If you weren't sure about it before, now you were sure that he was hard, excited, horny.

And he actually tried to let you know that he was horny, while trying to be polite about it too. Like, back hugging you while you're doing the dishes and - scratch that, he wasn't polite about it - groping, squeezing your tits as you're telling him to stop and let you finish. But Han Jisung isn't the strongest soldier when you're dressed in his hoodie with those nails. He can't help himself but ride up his hoodie and lower your sweatpants until he can see the curve of your ass, smacking it while grinning at the shy yet indignant giggle that escape your mouth.

And then, he can't help himself but slides his hands in your pants and up and down your thighs, towards your already dripping core, while you're both cuddling on the couch, your back against his torso. He just likes how you whimper and protest, scratching his forearms in a feeble attempt to at least finish your drama. But Jisung is nice, so he'll wait. With his hand down you pantie, fingers working magic in your cunt, thumb playing with your bead. Can you blame him ? You're sitting here, pretty for him, eager to be fuck once your show is done. And when it's done ? Oh god, better be prepared for the way he's about to pound his dick into your wet and slippery cunt, nibbling at your neck as his hand is turning your head towards his so he can kiss you feverishly, while the other one is pressed flat on your stomach so you can feel him hit harder and deeper, hitting it from behind as you're both to lazy to get up from the couch. And he don't give a fuck about those reddish marks that appears on his skin, do not care if it looks like he has been scratched by a cat, because it might as well be true. You are the cutest kitten, looking so good in his hoodie, skin glistening because you're feeling hot demise the raging cold in your apartment. And at the second orgasm he swears he can feel electricity running through his veins. It does not help one bit calm him down.

Jisung could have cum thrice, slightly cry because of hypersensitivity, but he would still turn you around and put you in a mating press just so that he can fuck you properly, just so that you can leave scratches on his back. He likes the feeling of your nails gripping at his skin, likes the pain it brings to him, likes how with that, he can feel every bit of you, of your tight and warm walls sucking him dry as he's shooting loads after loads of his warm cum in your pussy. But then he has to go for another round, because that picture of his cum on his hoodie, you wrapped in it with teary eyes and red cheeks is not a want, it's a need. And he just came inside, so he'll have to work himself toward a fifth orgasm. Not that he cares.

[sunattacksthemoon]

5, 6, 10, 11, 20, 22 and 25

ask game

5. what would you be a god/goddess of and what would people sacrifice to you?

So I tried asking my my sister and mum bc I had no idea what to answer and that was the most excruciating conversation I have ever had with two people. So I’m on my own for this one. Honestly I’ve got no clue, I’ve thought about this for a good bit and I’ve come up with nothing. I keep coming back to something nature related, idk what but something to do with the forest and trees. For sacrifices or like things to put on my alter ig, I’d say willow tree branches and honeysuckle. Maybe fruits? Plums specifically, anddddd idk play me some music and I’ll be peachy.

6. name five iconic quotes that make you feel things.

I’ve actually got a list of these

“I am very interested and fascinated how everyone loves each other, but no one really likes each other.” The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

“They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.” - The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe

“Loneliness flays the soul, doesn't it? Strips it piece-by-piece until it feels like there's nothing left to lose, and in a way, reaching that point can seem relieving.” - Best Friends Brother by bizarrestars

“As you wish” - The Princess Bride by William Goldman

“You are beautiful, but you are empty,” he went on. “One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you—the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.” - The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

10. describe yourself as if you were a storm.

I’d be a thunderstorm, no lightning and lots of rain. Lotsss of thunder tho. It would last for a good while but would eventually turn into just some light rain. I think I’d be a summer storm, like the ones in the middle of July, where it’s super hot and it’s misty.

11. what type of flower (other than a rose) would you offer someone you were trying to court?

Their favorite flower, idk I’ve never given anyone flowers before, like romantically. Every person I’ve been interested always said they didn’t like flowers. But I’m the type of person that wants people to like their gifts so I’ll just listen to people when they talk and if they mention liking something I’ll take note and get them gifts based off that. I want people to get use out of the things I get them. So gifts are always tailored to the people I give them too. That goes with flowers and other things like playlists.

20. tying your hair up using ribbon, yay or nay?

I wish, I have super thick hair but it’s pin fucking straight so every time I try to but a lil bow or clippy in my hair it falls out. Literal bane of my existence. But ideally in another life I’ll be able to have ribbons in my hair.

22. tell us, in detail, about a curse a witch would put on you.

Hmmmm idk I think it would be based on my fears or faults ig. So I’m thinking they would take my ability to speak. Idk what I did to deserve a curse but y’know shit happens.

25. favorite childhood story? (doesn’t have to be a fairy tale)

Alice in wonderland, I’ve got the white rabbit as a lil charm on my necklace. On the same chain as my moonstone. Both very sentimental things for me. I’d also say Calvin and Hobbes or Pooh bear. Goodnight moon but that was when I was really little, I also remember liking Shel Silverstein as well. Idk I know that a lot of little kids books made me unbelievably anxious. Or overall upset. Like when my mum read me the ugly duckling I was so sad. And Dr. Seuss was my enemy.

[phoenixsbby]

This Isn’t What It Looks Like - Hangman x Bartender!reader

summary: Hangman is totally, 100% over his ex … he just needs a fake girlfriend to prove it.

WC: 5.2k

a/n: let’s take every cliche romance trope and turn it into a Hangman fic, shall we?

warnings: mentions of sex, swearing

“No, absolutely not.”

“What?! Why?” Hangman’s leaning over the bar, staring you down intently while you finish up the closing tasks of the Hard Deck. You ran the last call bell awhile ago, happy to see everyone closed out promptly. Everyone except Hangman, that is. No, Hangman continued to linger until you said goodnight to the last patron. Then he approached, marched right up to where you’d been cleaning with that charming grin spread across his lips. You knew you were in for it.

“Do you know how ridiculous this sounds?” Hangman just shrugs. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend to prove to your ex that you’ve moved on ... which by the way you so clearly have not.”

“I have. And ... yes?”

“You think we can act like we like each other enough to convince her we’re in love?”

“I don’t see it being a problem.” His eyes flicker across your face before dropping to your body, giving it a quick once over. Heat rushes to your cheeks, despite the fact that it’s not the first time Hangman has looked at you that way. 

“Why is she even going to be here? A Naval base isn’t an ideal tourist attraction.”

“It is if you’re an Admirals daughter.” He visibly winces as your jaw compulsively drops.

“Oh, Hangman.” You tsk at him, fighting back a smirk that threatens to break out.

“That’s beyond the point.” He swats at the air as if trying to magically push the conversation along. 

“Well, what’s in it for me?”

“My undying gratitude?”

You hum, tapping a sarcastic finger against your chin before replying, “Next.”

“Y/NNNN.” He whines your name, like a child pleading with their parents for just one more piece of candy. Anyone and everyone who knows him could tell you that Jake Seresin has an ego. They would say that he’s demanding and likes to remind people that more often than not, he gets what he wants. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Hangman beg for anything before ... you kind of like it. 

“Jaaaakkkeee.” You match his tone, pouting your bottom lip a bit for emphasis. 

“I’ll scrub the bar clean for two weeks, I’ll take Marlie to the dog park every weekend for the next month, I’ll kiss the god damn floor you walk on.” The offer is tempting, you can’t deny that. You act like you’re considering it while simultaneously wiping down a glass as he continues. "We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You and Hangman are friends, in every way that a bartender at a Navy bar and a Naval Lieutenant can be. On nights when he’s not deployed or doesn’t have too early of a morning the next day, he’ll come around. Sometimes he’s with friends, sometimes he comes alone. On a couple of rare nights when the place is quiet, Jake will keep you company by choosing a seat at the bar rather than a table tucked in the back. When you can, you’ll sit beside him, make small talk, play some cards, or people watch until you earn a glare from the old guy who always challenges people to a game of darts despite having the worst aim you’ve ever seen.

During those nights, the ones you let resurface in your mind more times that you’d like to admit, you’ll find your legs tangled in between his, your bodies leaning in, unconsciously craving the closeness. You liked the way it felt to have some part of you pressed against him, liked the way his heat mixed with yours. Usually the contact ended when you remembered you had a job to do but, you never willingly pulled away. You noticed he never did either.

“That’s a loose term for it, sure.” It’s a lie and you both know it.

“And friends do favors for other friends, right?” He raises his brows, his normal grin turning into a sly and suggestive one. 

This time while wiping down a new glass, you actually consider it. In the time that you’ve known Jake, he’s been there for you. Again, there are only so many ways that a bartender and a bar patron can be there for each other but, Jake has checked almost all the boxes.

And then there was that one night, the one you’re too eager to blame on alcohol despite only having two drinks a couple hours apart. Sometimes after you get home from work, still buzzing from the energy of the bar, you’ll stare up at your bedroom ceiling and allow the memory to play out like a movie inside your head.

“I think it’s about time for me to get you home.” Hangman bopped your nose with the tip of his pointer finger. The crowd at the bar didn’t look like it would be dwindling out any time soon, drinks were flowing, people were singing and dancing. You were reveling in the fact that you had the night off but, were choosing to ignore that you were spending said night off at your workplace. 

“What? Why? I’m not even-“

“Drunk, I know. But it’s late and I’d like to be sure that you make it home safely.” Jake said and you forced yourself to not to acknowledge the way his smile, soft and sweet, made your heart drum harder against your breastbone. 

“Ever the gentleman.” You poked his nose back and let him drive you home. It was the middle of the summer which meant the California day heat lingered well past dark and you’d insisted that every single window in Jakes jeep be rolled down. The normally humid breeze was cool against your hot, slightly sweaty skin and whipped through your hair as you watched the coast pass by in a blur. 

A hand was placed gently on your thigh, not too high but, certainly not low. A warm feeling, like static electricity, radiated from where his palm rested, spreading its way higher and higher until it pooled in between your legs. Without looking over at him, you settled your hand on the top of his and intertwined your fingers together.

When he pulled into the driveway of the small cottage you were renting, neither of you made any efforts to remove your hands from each others hold. The head rush you were getting from the sensation of his skin on yours was enough to have you question whether or not you were actually drunk. 

But there was no way. Alcohol had nothing to do with the tidal wave of want that came over you when your eyes finally met, still sitting in the car, with only the center console keeping your bodies apart. You’d like to believe that want wasn’t derived from the fact that a very attractive man was staring at you like any second he’d devour you (although, that was certainly a driving factor).

You wanted to believe the result was from the fact that you knew Jake Seresin. You knew all his favorite restaurants he ate at growing up in Texas and how his dad was an asshole who’s never truly seen how great of son he raised. He was Jake, the aviator who listened to you babble on about your training your new puppy and your many failures attempts to find new hobbies. He was the man who really saw you and came back night after night anyway.

You felt a rush of coldness cover your body when he lifted his hand from your leg and stepped into the balmy San Diego night. He rounded the car and stopped in front of your door before pulling it open and reaching for you to help you climb out. You took his hand and shamelessly clung to his arm and to his side until you reached your front door.

You lingered there, allowing your key to hover just above the lock before deciding to throw all caution to the wind. He was much closer than you anticipated, your chests nearly colliding when you turned to face him. Neither of you spoke, like you were afraid that one wrong word or sound would pop this bubble of earnest tension you’d created. 

He took a step forward and your knee-jerk reaction was to take one back so, he continued pressing you until your back met the wood of your front door with a thump. Your breathing began to turn unsteady when he reached a hand up, hovering, almost waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, he let himself push a few stray strands of hair behind your ear while inching his face closer and closer and closer until …

He stopped with only a few inches left separating your faces. He was so close, you were engulfed in his scent - spicy and sweet and completely Jake. His hand moved down to your face, tracing, pressing, caressing its way down your throat and to your collarbones. He looked possessed, a man completely captivated by you and your skin.

With an easy dip of your head, you let your lips dance over his sharp jaw line, desperate to relieve this aching pressure that was building inside of you. More pressure mounted when you saw, when you felt, the way his body reacted to your movements. He released a long, rattled, shaky breath and gripped the door frame beside you for dear life.

His knee nudged its way in between your legs and you fought the urge to moan at its solidness, so close to where you needed him the most. He pulled his face back, just enough to gaze down at you through hooded eyes. 

“Tell me to stop.” His voice came out rough and guttural, like he was physical forcing the words to come out.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You didn’t, not in the slightest. In fact, you were seconds away from getting down on the ground and begging him to touch you, to love you. You reached out and let your hands travel from his uniformed chest down to his stomach, feeling the dips and ridges of his hard muscles beneath your palms.

He scooped up your hands with his and held them, so tightly, before bringing them to his lips. He kissed them, branding your skin as if his lips were hot irons, muttered a ‘goodnight’ then walked away.

You hadn’t felt that way, that impassioned and desperate in a long time. Maybe you’ll do this for Hangman because he’s right, friends do favors for each other. Or maybe you’ll do it for more selfish reasons, ones you’ll never so much as openly admit to having.

“Marlie likes to be at the park early, like really early to get the best pick of the sticks. And you don’t have to clean the bar but, I wouldn’t mind some company after-“

You let out a grunt when Hangman reaches across the bar, grabs you by the arms, and hauls you into him. The wood of the bar top is drilling into your hips, poking so uncomfortably into your bones yet, you don’t move. You sink into him despite the pain.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He squeezes you then pulls back, ruffling a hand through your hair which you quickly bat away.

“Yes, I know, I’m the best. So ... where do we start?”

——

The Friday night rush at the Hard Deck was showing you no mercy, you barely had a minute to breathe, let alone time to think about your agreement with Hangman. In fact, the predicament hadn’t even crossed your mind until your eyes meet unmistakable, rich green ones with a contagious grin to match from across the bar. 

“M’love.” He greets you as you set down two cold beers in front of him. 

“Hangster.” You greet him back with a wink. You go to move on to the next customer when you hear him call you back.

“Just a heads up, she should be here soon.” 

“Ah, yes, she who shall not be named.” You smirk, trying to do your job while holding the conversation. You pop off a few lids and swipe some empties before looking back at him, noticing that he’s not smirking along with you.

“Y/N.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, Jake, I’m ready to wow her. You are going to look so over her by the time I’m through with you.”

“I’m walking away now.” He grumbles as he grabs the beers and turns to go meet up with his fellow pilots.

“See ya later, babe!” You call after him, chuckling to yourself before getting back in the zone. Some of your friends and family had scrutinized you at first when they heard you were bartending. They acted like it was a black hole for all career potential but, they’re wrong. Bartending is no easy gig, it requires a lot of skill and acute focus.

Most nights, you allowed yourself to only pay attention to what was going on behind the bar and those sitting across from it. You rarely noticed the ebb and the flow of the crowd, who came in and who came out. Tonight however, you’re distracted, catching yourself watching the door, staring at any pretty girl that comes in wondering if she’s the one. 

You’re in the middle of a lighthearted conversation with one of your favorite veterans, your back facing the door, when you hear Jake call for you. When you turn around, you’re met with Hangman’s bright smile and a beautiful blonde attached to his side. Your eyes flicker to where his arm is wrapped around her back, to where their hips connect, before forcing yourself to refocus on literally anywhere else that isn’t Jake’s body coming in contact with hers.

He introduces her to you, her name is as pretty and enchanting as her princess style hair. She must get it blown out once a week, that volume is too good to be natural. And her skin is nearly flawless, kind of glowing. There’s no way she uses drug store skin care. God damn, you need to get it together.

“This,” Hangman reaches across the bar, his fingers tucking a stray piece of hair that fell away from your pony tail back over your ear “is my gorgeous girlfriend, Y/N.”

“It’s great to meet you.” You force the words to come out steady and sweet, not because you want to spite her but, because you feel rattled after that touch, under the gentle look Jake is giving you.

“Likewise.” She replies with a smile. 

“I’m due for a break soon, I’ll meet you guys when I’m off?” You place a bottle of the beer Jake usually gets down in front of him and ask his ex what she’d like. After mixing her a vodka soda, she tells you she can’t wait to hear about how you and Hangman met and fell in love.

You send Hangman a uh-wait-we-never-discussed-that look as he leads her away from the bar, holding your eyes to his for as long as he can over his shoulder.

Over the next fifteen minutes, you can’t help but watch them interact in between serving. Are they standing too close? Have they made any attempts at touching each other? You notice Hangman’s smiling and laughing a lot and it’s not that you don’t like seeing him happy, you just want to get a better understanding of how truthful he was when he said he’s moved on. 

When your designated break time rolls around, you let Penny know and clock out with record speed before making a beeline for Hangman. When you reach him, you place a hand on his back to let him know you’re there causing him to spin around to face you.

“There she is.” His eyes twinkle with recognition before he tugs you against him, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Wow, he’s good at this. You wrap your arm around him in response, fisting the material of his shirt in your hand to keep him close. All for show, of course.

“So, Y/N,” His ex pulls your attention towards her “how long have you been a bartender here?”

“Almost a year.” You smile, a completely natural one associated with all of the memories of working at the Hard Deck. “I take classes during the day so, helping Penny out at night works out well for me.”

“She’s in a graduate program, working toward becoming an electrical engineer.” Jake adds, causing you to jerk your eyes to meet his. “Her dad was an engineer for the Navy. Guess you two have something else in common other than being completely enamored by me.” His ex lets out a loud laugh and playfully smacks Hangman’s arm, all while you just stare.

You’re shocked he remembers that. You told him about it once, when you first met. Since then, he’s asked about how classes were going but, you figured he wouldn’t remember the specifics. 

“She’s so smart.” He holds your eyes to his while resting a hand against the back of your neck and kneading it gently. Holy shit, you might spontaneously combust. 

‘That’s really cool, Y/N.” She says, snapping you out of your trance.

“Thanks.” Your voice comes out a bit coarse so, you clear your throat and turn to smile at her. “Not as cool as having an Admiral for a father. I bet that got Jake in just the right amount of trouble.” You pinch his side, smiling wider as he jumps and grabs your hand tightly. 

“Oh, yeah.” You watch as her eyes flicker to Hangman, a vaguely recognizable and totally unsubtle look, almost like desire, settles over her features. “We used to really get into it.”

…oh?

You let out a hesitant chuckle, hoping Hangman will take the reins on steering this conversation somewhere else but when you glance up at him, you see him looking back at her with a matching expression of longing. You feel it like a punch to the chest and squeeze his hand that’s still locked around yours.

His ex is the first to shake out what can only be described as their staring contest, looking to you with a tight smile. “Well, let’s hear it! How did you guys end up together?”

“Yeah guys,” Phoenix and Rooster come strolling over to your group, sharing matching pompous smirks “tell us all about it.” Phoenix rests her elbows on the table while Rooster takes a seat, both ready to watch the Y/N and Hangman show. The only thing they’re missing is a bowl of popcorn. 

“Spilled drink!”

“The beach!”

Oh, shit. Your voices layer right over each other and now you have three sets of eyebrows raised sky high in your direction. Phoenix releases a snort into her drink and Rooster’s grinning like he just won the freaking lottery. 

You and Hangman’s eyes dart to meet, a muscle in his jaw clicking, one of your eyes twitching before you open your mouth to try and recover the situation.

“Well, yeah, uh .. we met because this smooth pilot knocked a beer right out of my hand and onto my shirt.” You feel a smile, a real, honest smile come across your face because what you were saying was true. The first time you met, Jake had turned around right into you, knocking over three drinks and soaking you in cheap alcohol.

You can remember the look on his face vividly, the way he was opening his mouth to say something along the lines of ‘watch where you’re going’ but, stopped short as he took you in. When your eyes met, when you felt the scorch of his stare on your skin, getting the stains out of one of your favorite shirts was the last thing on your mind. 

“I asked her to meet me on the beach after her shift.” Hangman adds. “We walked together, I told her I’d pay for a new shirt but, she insisted it wasn’t necessary.” Still true. “She said she sees the stain as a kind of reminder. She’d look at it and always think of me ... and how insanely good looking I am.” You roll your eyes playfully, hearing a chorus of laughs and groans from around you.

“I really wanted to kiss her then.” His grin simmers down into a look of yearning, one that’s almost slightly pained.

“And you did, right? Kiss her?” His ex asks.

“Yeah.” Hangman clears his throat, pulling his eyes away from yours. “And she’s been mine ever since.”

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest?” Phoenix coos before sending you a wink and pulling a still grinning Bradley up and towards the bar. 

You’re blessed with an opportunity to divert the conversation (because any more and your heart may give out) when an older, but classic song you recognize instantly plays from the jukebox.

“Oh, this is my favorite song.” You say as the slow rhythm flows through the bar.

“Well you heard her, Hangman! Dance with her!” His ex smiles, pushing you two toward the area that others have designated as a makeshift dance floor. 

“Oh no, that’s okay.” You shake your head, laughing nervously.

“We should,” Hangman takes your hand and starts to tread backwards, pulling you along with him “before you have to get back to your shift.”

You let him pull your body flush against his before he props the hand he was holding on his chest and grabs the other one to hold up in the air. You’re thankful when he sways you softly, worried that heavier movements mixed with the dizziness that his proximity brings would most likely result with you hitting the floor. 

“I’d say it’s working.” His breath grazes your temple, pulling a shudder out from deep within your body. 

“Hm?” You hum, pulling back a bit to look into his eyes.

“Our relationship. She seems convinced.” You swallow thickly and nod, glad in someway that you’ve managed to persuade this woman into thinking you’re in love with each other. You must be great actors, maybe you should both consider a career change. “She told me she was single.”

“Oh.” You mutter, seemingly all you can manage in that moment. “And how do you feel about that?”

He holds your stare with slightly furrowed brows and you can see the wheels turning inside his mind. Whether or not it’s because he’s reading yours or formulating his answer, you’re not sure. And you may never know because the sound of the bell pulls you away from him and his attention. When you glance over at the bar, it’s packed and Penny looks like she’s drowning. 

Without giving it much thought, you press a kiss to Hangman’s cheek and whisper “I’ll see you later.” before booking it back to work.

——

You lose track of time, as you do frequently when the bar is this full. A couple of minutes may have passed, maybe a few hours, before Penny taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, sweetie. Can you do me a favor and run these out back? They’re taking up too much room behind here.” Penny asks, arms full of empty Coors Light boxes. You happily accept them from her grasp and make your way out of the back exit. When you manage to push the door open, you’re met with the sight of Hangman and his ex. Alone. Out back. With her hand on his chest.

You flinch involuntarily, nearly dropping the boxes all over the pavement. Hangman takes a big step backwards and his ex tucks her hands behind her back, all while you just stand there, wide-eyed. Should you be mad, as his fake girlfriend? It shouldn’t really hurt yet, it does. You can feel that pain settling in like a pit in your stomach. Does this count as cheating, even if technically no cheating can occur if everyone involved is single? If it is, should you cause a scene?

Ugh, they need a rule book for the parameters of fake dating. 

“Y/N,” Jake takes a step toward you “this isn’t what it looks like.” Your eyes flicker between Hangman and his ex, who both do a horrible job of hiding their guilt stricken features and you think okay, that’s bull but, you plaster on a smile anyway.

“No, yeah, of course. I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.” You toss the boxes into the recycling before heading back toward the door. You’ve almost scurried your way out of the situation when you hear Jake call your name again. You grip the handle, hard, and look over your shoulder. “I’ve got to get back in there.”

And that, you do. You work feverishly, like the only thing in the world that matters to you is serving the best drinks these customers have ever had. You only focus on three things; pouring, cleaning, cashing out and doing it again and again. You certainly do not focus on the thought of Hangman and his ex, standing so close, touching each other.

Pour, clean, cash out, pour, clean, cash out.

When Penny rings the last call bell, the relief you feel is so deep that you’re sure it’s radiating from your bones. The night’s finally over, which means you can put these weird, confusing circumstances with Hangman to bed and return back to your completely normal friendship tomorrow. 

You were hoping to head out early, sneaky and silent to avoid a certain someone. But Penny asked you to cover the closing duties and you simply cannot say no to that wonderful woman. So you stayed busy and by the time the bar is cleared out, you want to celebrate - you’ve successfully evaded that conversation. 

That is, until Hangman comes sauntering up to the bar seemingly out of no where. 

“So, about earlier. I can explain-“

“Don’t worry, we’re not actually dating remember? So, no real apologies needed.”

“Right.” A beat of silence passes. You’re very close to being the one to break the silence, to ask him if you were going to pretend this night ever happened or simply ignore all of it and say goodnight. But, he beats you to it.

“She asked me if I thought we were going to last. She asked me for a second chance, something about seeing me after all this time and realizing she still has feelings.” You nod, putting on a brave face. If that’s what Jake wants, if being back with her would make him happy then, so be it.

“I told her I didn’t want her. I told her I loved you.” You swallowed the emotion clawing its way up your throat.

“Right, because to her, we’re in a completely legitimate relationship and couldn’t be happier.”

“Exactly.” More silence and you take it as an opportunity to really look at him. You take in his droopy posture, his slightly unfocused eyes. He looks sad. And all you want to do is make him feel better. 

“Hey,” You place a hand over his “hypothetically, you chose the moral high road tonight. I’m proud of you for that. You don’t deserve someone who would put herself out there for a guy who’s taken.” You wink to try to lighten his mood but, he only manages a give you a thin grin back. 

“I’m sure you’ll find the right someone ... someday.” You add, the words tasting like battery acid on your tongue. 

“I’m not really looking.” He grits out, removing his hand from under yours. 

“But .. you leave with women all the time, I’ve seen you.” You scoff, turning around because you need to scrub the other side of the bar and because you know if he continues to look you in the eye for long enough, he’ll see right through you. He’ll see right into your heart and find that little part of it you’ve tucked away for him.

“You’re seeing things then because I haven’t. I haven’t slept with a woman, even so much as thought about it since ...” He trails off and you pause, anticipation compelling your body to vibrate, like a jet engine starting up inside your chest.

“Since when?”

“Since I met you.”

You feel your breath hitch and have to grip the edge of the bar to keep yourself up right considering your limbs have decided to turn to gelatin. You turn to face him, taking in his glazed over eyes and delicate features.

“But that was-“

“Trust me, you do not need to remind me how long it’s been.” He forces out a breathy chuckle. You’re convinced that blood no longer pumps in your veins, fire courses through you instead and it’s igniting every particle in your body like they’re sparks waiting to catch. You drop the rag you’ve been using and step out from behind the bar, aching to be closer to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I figured you didn’t want to be with someone like me. Someone who’s gone half the time, someone who may never come back.” He shakes his head, letting it hang low. “I didn’t want to put you through that.”

You reach out, tracing the collar of his khaki uniform with your fingertips. “Can’t I make that decision for myself?”

“You can,” He looks up, resting a hand over the one you have against him “but if you chose to be with me then, you’re making the wrong one.”

“Then let me be wrong.” You let Jake guide your hand to his cheek. He leans into your touch before putting his other hand around your waist and pulling you into him. He kisses you with all the hunger and passion you felt the night on your porch, that you’ve continued to feel for him since. His lips are warm and burning with need as he takes control, diving his tongue deeper like he’s desperate for air and the only oxygen left in the word is buried inside you. 

He pushes his body against yours, walking you back into the wooden edge of the bar. Desperation starts to bleed through, wrecking all your precision and turning both of your movements sloppy and frantic. You think it must be unnatural to kiss someone with this much desire, to no longer need air as much as you need their lips on yours. Eventually, one of you will pull away to breathe but, you’ll be on your last dying gasp before you do.

What pulls you away from each other isn’t basic human need - it’s Penny, pushing through the door from the kitchen and freezing in her tracks once she realizes what she’s seeing.

You break apart with blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment rather than lust.

“Pen, uh-“ You push Jake further away from you “this isn’t what it looks like?”

Hangman laughs, latching his hand around yours before pulling you back to him without remorse. “Sorry Penny, this is exactly what it looks like.” 

——

^ me, preaching Hangman supremacy

[greg-montgomery]

Lonely

Aaron Hotchner x Gn!Reader

Summary: Just a little hurt/comfort fic. It's one of those days where nothing feels okay, but to your surprise, your boss Aaron Hotchner is there to comfort you.

Soft!Hotch my beloved <333

TW: The reader talks about struggling with their mental health.

Words: 1.1 k

It was only you who was left at the office. You thought that occupying your mind with some boring paperwork would help you distract yourself from the painful feeling on your chest. It was one of those days where something as simple as a smile was impossible to fake. It was one of those days where a headache was creeping up by you forcing your tears not to spill all day.

If someone were to ask you why you were feeling that way, you would have an extremely hard time to explain. You couldn’t even explain it to yourself. You were just feeling sad. And feeling sad made you feel lonely.

The noise of a door closing made you drop your pen and turn your head to that direction. Yes, everyone else had left, but the word ‘everyone’ did not include your boss. Ever. At least for you.

 “Y/N, what are you still doing here? It’s almost eleven,” he asked, approaching your desk. Looking up at him you immediately recognized concern in his expression.

“I thought I could just finish this all up tonight. You know, so I don’t have it on my mind all week.” You tried to sound casual, but you were pretty certain he was already not buying it.

“I don’t want you to overwork yourself. Especially for something as meaningless as paperwork. You already go through enough when we have a case.”

You sighed, figuring there was no reason to fight him on this. If you agreed he would just drop it. “You’re right.”

You started collecting your things to put them in your bag, expecting Aaron to wish you goodnight and leave. Instead you felt him staring at you in silence.

Bringing your bag to your lap, after securing all your personal things in it, you turned to the side ready to get up. You hadn’t realized that he had moved closer though - to the point where if you stood up, your face would bump into his chest. That’s why you decided to stay seated.

You looked up at him and took a deep breath, trying to calm your heartbeat that was going crazy, because he was completely towering over you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?” There it was again. That same expression of concern. You hated the way he could see right through you. Aaron was known for being able to read people – he was good at his job and you admired him for it – but it was never fun to be on the receiving end of his talent. It made you feel bare and vulnerable.

“Yes, everything’s good.”

He slowly squatted down so he could be at the same level as you. Your height difference hadn’t allowed your faces to be this close to each other before. Looking into his eyes from this new angle felt different.

“Listen,” he started. “I can understand why I would not be the first person you’d choose to talk to about a personal issue. I know I’m much older than you and might act a little like a drill sergeant sometimes, but I’m always here if you need to talk. I would love to help. About whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

You smiled sadly at him because, deep down, if you could choose one person in the world to open your heart to it would be him. But how could you randomly start talking about your feelings to your boss of all people? How does one get the chance to do so?

Except now you had the perfect chance. He was offering it to you.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make any sense, Hotch,” you answered; your voice small and ready to break.

“You don’t have to. This isn’t an exam, you know. You can just tell me how you feel. No need to explain.”

Tears started to blur your vision at his words. Your feelings for him got a hundred times more intense than they were before.

“I’m lonely,” you broke, crying properly now. “I’m so lonely.”

His hand reached out to take yours and his thumb started to move in a soothing motion. It helped.

“And I’m not saying I’m alone,” you continued. “I have my family, my friends, our team... I know I have people in my life who care for me, I really do. And I recognize how ungrateful I sound for saying that it’s not enough. But it’s not. I’m still lonely. And I’m still sad. And I don’t know why.”

“Sweetheart…” he whispered, his free hand cupping your cheek so he could wipe away the tears.

“I’m so tired of thinking I’m okay and then feeling awful again. It never ends,” you sobbed, leaning into his touch without really thinking about it. “I just feel so helpless when it gets bad. Like nothing can help.”

As soon as you finished your sentence he pulled you into his arms. The fingers of his one hand got lost between your hair, while his other hand was rubbing circles on your back. “Maybe this can help,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

You completely melted in his embrace. Your sobs got louder and your body was shaking, but it felt like release.

“Hotch,” you cried, “I just wanna be okay.”

“You will be, I promise.”

You pushed away, just enough so you could look at his face again. His eyes were red and your heart clenched at the thought of him caring for you enough to be this moved by your sadness.

His palms were cupping your cheeks again and his handsome smile made its appearance, looking sweeter than ever.

“Thank you,” you smiled back. It was through tears, but it was the only genuine smile you had given anyone all day.

“Of course,” he replied, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. “And now…” He dragged out the sentence, while standing up.

You missed his touch already. You didn’t want him to leave you alone. But you prepared yourself for his next words. He probably had to get home to Jack, you thought.

“How about we go get some ice cream?” he asked instead.

Your eyes lit up like a kid which made him laugh.

“I know a place that’s open all night. Let me drive us there,” he said offering his hand, and you took it without a second thought.

“I’d love that.”

You started walking towards the elevator, holding hands.

“Nothing like some ice cream after a good cry, right?” he joked and you giggled.

His hand dropped yours, only for his arm to wrap itself around your neck, pulling you close to his chest.

Maybe you could learn to love the way Aaron could see right through you. It made you feel cared for and understood.