#gotta have my random dance shots

[candescentkpop]

Shake your head to the rhythm

Ateez: Bouncy (K-Hot Chilli Peppers)

Ateez Part 106 / ∞

[hoshigray]

hey!! I love you works=) Can I request a fem!chubby(optional)reader x gojo,where gojo is her mean roommate and after a night when he had fun with a random girl and reader couldn't sleep because of it she confront him and he shows her how much he loves-hates her (NSWF if you can,when I say love-hate I mean he loves her,but she is not afraid to attack his ego so he finds this quite annoying) I truly understand if you don't want to write and I respect your decision =) I just say to try my luck and see if you like the idea

lol well, I'm lucky to have time to indulge in this idea, so why not? hope i did this right...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x roommate! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader can be read as chubby or not - implied mutual feelings/pining - kissing/making out - teasing - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and licking) - doggy style + missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - Gojo being a bit whipped for you - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - implied usage of alcohol - mention of saliva/drool. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k

“God, you can be such a fucking dumbass…Who told you to drink so much?”

“Listen–hic–I was just being the life of the party. Plus, gotta impress the ladies~”

“Oh, for God’s sake, just eat your damn mocha bread.”

Lying on the living room couch with you sitting on your knees on the carpet, tending to his drunken state, was not something Satoru Gojo had planned. It was supposed to be a chill night at the club with the guys – Geto, Nanami, and Haibara – yet he somehow found his way to the dance floor and danced like a rock star, drinking like a fish from taking up all the shots bought by all the women infatuated by him. What can he say; he could never refuse the ladies, even if he doesn’t like alcohol.

However, he’ll admit he might have overdone it and puked in the club bathroom for a solid 20 minutes before his friends decided it was time to go. You opened your apartment door to your roommate being carried by Haibara and Geto, the dark-haired men apologizing for the inconvenience at the late hour after dropping their friend on the couch and leaving you to deal with the tipsy fool. 

Although, with him dealing with the raging headache and horrid acid from the vomit earlier ruining his tastebuds, Gojo would say this wasn’t all too bad. Why? Well, now he has his cute roommate to look after him like they always do.

Although he feels a bit bad that you were up to see him at this ungodly hour, watching you sitting beside him and feeding him his favorite snack to ease his subsiding intoxication made him feel warm. The little pout on your face as you break apart pieces of the mocha bread to feed into his mouth, your gorgeous eyes examining him to see if he’s okay, and your cute pajamas comprised of an oversized shirt and some shorts. If it meant being treated by you like this, the snow-haired man figured he ought to get drunk more often.

The only problem was you nagging at him like he was a child, grabbing for his hand to hold the glass of water on his own. “Drink; I don’t want you puking on my carpet.” Yup, you were his roommate, all right.

He rolled his eyes while taking a sip. “You’re supposed to be talking all sweet and slow to me here because my head’s going at sixty miles an hour. Aren’t you supposed to be sympathetic to the weak?”

You scoffed. “Oh please, you are not weak; you’re just dumb enough to drink whatever thing some pretty girl gives you.” 

“Hmph,” He puffs at you, evoking your eye to twitch. “Well, maybe I should just go back to the venue and find that pretty lady who was dancing with me all night!” He takes a bite of some more mocha bread. “I’m sure she’d be nice enough to minister to my drunk self.”

That was a lie. There was a lady he was dancing with, the same lady who hung out with the guys at the club and had a good time with them. The woman was a wild and entertaining girl, Gojo will admit. But in all aspects, she was just there; she was nothing. If anything, Gojo wished that you were there instead of her. You were busy with work, opting to sit this out and maybe go with the guys the next time. 

And although he didn’t try to argue (outside of pestering you in giving in and coming along), he couldn’t get his mind off you while he was away. You were all he could think about, wondering if you were okay or if you remembered to eat dinner. Or just imagining you being with him, wearing something nice and letting loose around his friends – around him. Fuck, just visioning him and you dancing together would’ve been such a treat and probably saved his poor liver and stomach from all the alcohol. 

Instead, he’s spending the last moments of his late-night high with you, who should be sleeping. You say to him, “Would you?”

He draws his brows upwards. “Hmm?”

“Would you go back?” he now notices the look on your face, as if you’re going back and forth with something internally. “I mean, probably not because I’m sure whoever has to deal with you can’t feed you your favorite bread.” 

He hums, taking note of your expression and your fingers playing with the edge of his plate. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Nanami called me earlier when you were getting a little too wild, like, five shots in,” The number throws the man in a whirlwind; damn, I had more than five? “And he told me you were so tipsy and touchy that you couldn’t stop asking about me. Like, ‘Where’s Y/n’ or ‘Man, I wish Y/n was here; they love this song.’” 

Did I say that? “I said that?” A curt nod is given to Gojo, and he presses his lips to a thin line. Ah, shit. 

“All I’m saying is,” you continue with a pout. “It would be pretty scummy of you to say you’d wanna hang with another woman and then turn around and worry about me, for whatever reason.” 

Sky-blue eyes observe yours downcasted to the plate with the sweet bread. He couldn’t ignore how cute you avoided his gaze — it’s what prompted him to say this: “…There is a reason.”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t worry about you for nothing,” you watch the white-haired man bring his upper body up from the couch with his elbows. His face is now a foot away from yours, close enough for you to see the earnest glint in his eyes under the soft, warm glow of the ceiling lighting. “Nothing is for ‘whatever’ reason if it’s with you.”

Your brows furrowed together, eyes avoiding Gojo’s gaze. “What could that reason be, I wonder. You’re just saying that so I can stop being up taking care of—“You couldn’t finish that sentence; how could you when Gojo brought a hand to your chin and prompted you to look back at him? Azure eyes pierced right into yours; it made your heart skip, and your body dare not to move.

“You want me to prove you wrong?” He asks with a neutral expression, hard for you to gauge what’s on his mind. You know him; he likes to poke fun or try to get you riled up. So, this shouldn’t be any different (aside from him holding your chin).

You huff, “Go ahead.”

And it was there where you should’ve chosen your words carefully.

“Khaaa! Ohhh! G–Gojo, stop…! Y’r fingerss—Ahhaaa!”

“Aht, aht, don’t do that, angel. Open those legs up for me…Fuck, you’re so cute…Mmm”

It took you aback when Gojo stood up from the couch, took your hand, and walked you from the living room to his room. Confusion on your part turned into immediate shock when he brought you into a kiss. With wide eyes and thoughts going at a million miles per hour, you instinctively tried to brush him off you. But one kiss turned into two, and two kisses turned into three. And before you know it, you sink into the feel of his pillowy lips, a leg situating between yours while your hands come around his neck.

And the surprises don’t stop there; Gojo then hoists you up — yes, picks you up! — and brings you to his bed to continue laying his lips on you. Your shaky moans resulted from his kisses trailing from your chin to your collarbone, the humps of his lower half chafing the groin of your shorts. The twitch of your chasm happens involuntarily — how embarrassing! Especially when he distracts you by claiming your lips again so he can pull down your bottoms and panties.

And that’s how we end up here, you crying out for him as he kisses and nibbles on your ear while his fingers play with your wet folds. “—Ahahhnn!! G–Gojo, no..! Not there…Hnnfff…!”

“You say that, but you’re not letting my fingers go, huh.” He chortles before kissing your cheek, stuffing his middle finger to aid his forefinger in scraping your inner walls. The wails that escaped your lips were so unlike the stern persona he’d usually deal with; they provoked him into wanting to hear more. “Damn, didn’t know my little cute roomie could make such cute sounds. Let me hear more, ‘kay?” 

Cute!? The adjective had your cheeks increase in heat with the twitch of your southern walls clamping onto Gojo’s digits. “Hoooh! Q–Quit playing with me, Gojo; just stop going so fa—Aaahhhh!!” 

From your protest, his fingers go even faster. And worse, he sneaks his thumb to your clitoris, where he shocks your body with swipes and grinds to the delicate pearl. Too fast for you to chew on your lip to shield the creams, “Hey now, I said call me by my name.” He looks at you with flushed cheeks and soft, hooded eyes — way too late to blame the alcohol for such effects. But you can see the passion that’s burning inside those blue orbs of his. “Don’t be stubborn on me, pretty girl. What’s my name, Y/n?”

God, first cutie, now pretty girl; how many names was he gonna call you to drag you deep into your pool of embarrassment? “Haahhh, Satoru, please,” your body jerks to the jabs of his fingers hitting inside you. 

“Heh, good girl. My little angel…” Gojo kisses you again, sucking on your tongue with a teasing vigor before lifting your shirt to display your body to him in its whole form. Your breasts spill open for him to claim a nipple into his mouth for a quick suck. He then travels down your abdomen, playfully nibbling on your soft skin and flesh for you to jerk. His hands massage your inner thighs after spreading them further. 

His face then comes down to your bare cunt, blowing on it to make you squirm. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to look at you for so long. You made such a gorgeous mess for me.” 

“Go fuck yourself, Gojo,” you peer down at him, only for him to beam with a mischievous smile. Damn, you cursed his dimples for making him look like a childish bastard!

“No thanks, I’m more interested in fucking this cute thing.” He snickers to himself before descending further in between your legs and having you gasp sharply at the feel of his lips on your slit. His tongue swishes between your folds and sucks in your leaking substances for him to savor, the wet muscle teasing its entrance of your vagina before inserting inside.

You almost choke on your spit, crying out for him to stop and trying to close your legs. But that proves worthless, Gojo’s hands holding them to your chest for him to feast on you properly. You’re forced to accept the laps of his tongue, and it has your ears ringing with the obscene sounds coming from the commotion.

“—Ohoo!! Satoru, stop!!” You bring a hand to his head to grab a tuff of his snow-white hair. It does nothing, only making him eat you out even more unsteadily.  His nose occasionally bumps into your clit, your other hand gripping the sheets. “Stooop it, I’m gonna cummm, if you keep….!”

“Go ahead, baby,” he withdraws his mouth, slipping his fingers back inside you to massage euphorically. Your eyes roll up when he licks on your clitoris. “Let’s see my pretty angel be messy for me.” 

You couldn’t prevent yourself from following his command even if you wanted to, the fingers and his wet muscle all doing their part in making sure you give in. And so you do, releasing the reins to let your orgasm overcome you, clamping onto his fingers as it pass through your body through the shocks and your erotic howls. 

And Gojo eats you up through your sensitive nerves and all, his hands not letting you writhe out of this as he stuffs his face into your cunt. Your body jolts with every passing shock until it relaxes. And even then, Gojo still carries a naughty grin when lifting his face and licking his digits. “Look at that, princess. Making my fingers all pretty.”

The display made your ears hot. “Don’t play with it like that!”

“Why, I’m gonna play with you a whole lot more, anyway,” he says while kissing your thighs. He surprises you with a bite, making you huff in surprise. “Gonna play and mark you all mine all night long.”

And he was not lying. Everything happened so fast; one moment, you’re lying on Gojo’s bed with him, eating you out until you come from his mouth two times. The next moment, your pajamas are stripped off you and thrown to the floor along with his. 

“—Noohhh!! Ohhh, fuuuck, ahh, ‘Toruuu, yer goin’ too fast…! Slow down!!”

“Hnngh! Ahhhh, easy for you to say with you gripping on me like crazy…Holy shiiiit, you feel so good…”

Now, you two in the nude are fucking like animals. The hour is way past late for noises to disrupt your neighbors, yet here you are on Gojo’s bed with your face down to the sheets and your ass propped up for him to drill his length deep inside you. He’s caged you beneath him, his strong arms on either side of you while his hips thrust into your plump ass and thighs. The sounds of the action were so raunchy to the ears, something straight from a porno.

The two of you have been going at it for about two previous rounds; your body is already sensitive and sweaty from this. You want to be tired – your mind is trying to tell you you’re exhausted. However, it’s impossible to think of anything else with Gojo hammering his dick into you like no tomorrow. Excessive come leaks from your cunt down your thighs, a white ring forming around the base of his shaft — evidence of your sexes union. 

“Ohhh Jesus, this ’s too much…Nnnphh!” The clap of your ass smacking onto Gojo’s pelvis made you sheepish, sinking your face further into the sheets to try and conceal your cries. But that’s not working when the tip of his cock grazes your velvety walls in such a precise motion that you almost choke on a sob, drool coming down your mouth. “Oh God, right there, ‘Toruuu…”

The white-haired man observes from above, examining your round ass and body jerk from his movements. Fuck, you looked so fucking sexy like this under him, wailing out from him being able to make you feel so good. It strokes his ego so badly, but that’s what happens when he’s finally proving to you how much he’s wanted your body like this. Your erotic body, your adorable mewls, and your amazingly tight cunt clenching on him as if you don’t want to let him go — it all makes his head pound, and his strokes smack on your harsher.

“Shiiiit, I’m so close…” He moans with a cold sweat that rolls down to his chin and hits the skin of your trapezius. Gojo then decides to switch things up before his evident release comes knocking. “Hey, sweetie. Let me see that pretty face of yours.”

You were already maneuvered to face him before he could finish that sentence, your front forced to be seen in his gaze. Your half-lidded orbs locked in with Gojo’s as he bucks his hips to you during missionary. Oh, what an intimate position! 

“Hic—Don’t look!” You say while putting your hands up to his face – accidentally hitting the bottom of his chin, taking him by surprise – not wanting him to see your disheveled and messy self under his observant eyes. 

But that didn’t fly by with him, immediately grabbing your wrists and pinning them down. “Oh, none of that, princess,” his face descends to brush his nose against yours. “I told you I’d prove you wrong. So, how am I supposed to do that with you hiding from me like that?”

You gulp to give him a snarky answer, “Mmmph—You’ve proven that enough!”

“I don’t think so,” he chuckles lightly; fuck, he sounds so hot. “With you, there’s never enough.” He takes your lips with him before you can say more, grinding his hips onto your squelching chasm to scrape your sensitive spots to evoke your screams to be taken from his mouth. 

Gojo then snaps his hips into you at an unsteady tempo, the rhythm too fast to comprehend and catch yourself. The rough hits of his dick so harsh and sporadic, and your mewls are muffled by his kisses. Your hands go to his back, preparing yourself for the climax that rushes back to you for the fifth time that night. 

Oh, fuck, oh my fucking God! And it hits you like a slap to the face; your exhausted body trembles for yet another crescendo to crash over you. Your legs come around to Gojo’s waist to hold on. And Gojo’s not too far from orgasming on his own; the fluttering contractions of your cunt force him to give in and spill into you once again, groaning into your wet and puffy lips. 

The two of you embrace the jolts of your bodies in union, your lips glued to his as he kisses you through it all. And he drops his sweaty body on yours, the heat between you two sticking to your skins from the contact. A hand comes to the top of your head, caressing and massaging your scalp to further your relaxed state.

Gojo breaks the kiss with a soft sound, and a string of saliva sticks to you two until it’s broken apart from his ascent. He chortles, using a thumb to wipe your mouth from spit. “Well, did I make my point?”

You send him a tired glare, sighing heavily while your finger traces his back. “More than enough, Satoru.”

He beams, the dimples returning to blind you. “Good! Because I was thinking of going for another round—“

Your lips quiver with dread at the words, grabbing for a pillow and instantly hitting him in the head with it, not caring about him exclaiming in pain from the impact.

“Hurry up and get off me, you drunk, horny bastard!!”

But one thing was definite; it wasn’t the alcohol that Gojo was drunk on — it was you.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – dividers from @/benkeibear.

[nneteyamss]

ROSES — 13. frat party

(half written)

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“okay, once someone gets sick, it gets too crazy, someone makes a bad decision, or something else we’re leaving. got it?” mark turned from the drivers seat to face his friends before they entered the party.

mina and y/n nodded and gave mark a thumbs up while yangyang saluted him with a straight face.

“alright now get the fuck out my car and let’s go party” he sighed at yang and gave a small smile, hoping tonight would be smooth and fun.

“where do you guys think hyuck is right now?” yang asked as the 4 of them walked gingerly to the front door. the music was blasting and as they got closer it was harder to hear.

mark shrugged and mina don’t bother answering the question. “i don’t know but if he’s with his other friends, he can stay far away from me. last thing i need is jaehyun seeing me.” as y/n was finishing her sentence, they entered the house, almost instantly being greeted by hyuck who was passing by to get more drinks.

“you guys made it! drink are in the kitchen to your left, snacks are on the kitchen counters and dining room table, and yeah. i gotta hurry and go now, i got a hottie waiting for me.” he spoke fastly before dashing out of their sight.

the four of the scooted to the side so they weren’t blocking the entrance and took a look around. people walking past who knew them waved and said hello. it wasn’t long before y/n tapped mina on the shoulder and whispered in her ear to beat the loud music “wanna grab some drinks?” to which mina nodded. the two girls told mark and yang where they were going and disappeared from their previous spots.

not a lot of people crowded the kitchen but there were a good amount of people standing around and talking. y/n grabbed two bottles and handed one to mina as leaned back against the counter.

“oh dude i’m so glad these have the twist caps, i would’ve been pissed if i had to find someone to open this.” mina nodded with y/n’s statement while they twisted the caps off their drinks and took a sip.

“i know, and i didn’t even think to bring my bottle opener. also i’m not gonna lie… this music kinda sucks ass, i could’ve done better in my bedroom with a playlist and a dream.” the two girls laugh at the image of mina in her room dressed up like a frat boy, headphones around her neck, sunglasses on, and doing the frat flick with playing something probably like ‘baby’ by justin bieber.

“i’ll be standing right beside you hyping up the crowd like this” y/n jumped up and down with her hand in the air fist pumping, almost spilling her drink in the process.

after a while of talking the two finished the drinks they first opened, ended up taking some shots with random drunk girls who came into the kitchen (twice), and grabbing another drink. after starting to feel buzzed mina stopped drinking but y/n kept going. the two girls made their way out onto the makeshift dance floor where they saw their friends on the side talking.

“heyyy guys!” y/n walked towards them while waving, stumbling and almost falling while doing so.

“damn girl how much did you drink?” mark asked with a raised eyebrow. y/n only laughed and brushed him off.

“i dunno but that’s not important, i thought you said you weren’t drinking?” her eyes zeroed in to the red solo cup in his hand with a clear liquid inside.

“this is water, which you should get some of”

“guys can we sit down somewhere, my feet are starting to hurt.” mina interrupted the conversation to complain with a completely valid point. after standing around in the kitchen for who knows how long, who else’s feet wouldn’t start to hurt.

“couch is empty over there” hyuck pointed out a vacancy, to which they all ran over to the couch before someone would sit down and take it. as soon as y/n sat down she suddenly started feeling a little sick from the multiple drinks she had. her face was flushed red from all the alcohol and the stood right back up.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom, i’ll be right back”

“do you need me to come with you?” mina looked up at her, ready to tag along.

“no i should be good, thank you though my babygirl” y/n blew a kiss and mina blew one right back, ignoring their guy friends around them. with that y/n left to use the bathroom.

this definitely wasn’t the first nct frat that y/n attended so she knew her way around the building decently well and quickly navigated herself to the bathroom. upon arrival she immediately rolled her eyes at the line to wait to use the bathroom, which was probably disgusting anyway. luckily y/n is somewhat close friends with nct member yuta and knew he had a bathroom in his room.

the way they befriend each other was kind of odd but they just happened to ‘click’ after a while of pestering. most people avoided talking to yuta as a friend, due to his resting bitch face, but when y/n got paired with him she was determined to be nothing but kind and become his friend or at least acquaintance. often yuta would ignore these attempts and just try to get their work done and over with. under all of his frat boy who gets around persona, y/n knew there was something deeper. so what does she do? pull out photos of her family dog back home, because who can resist a cute dog? this plan undoubtedly worked as yuta became obsessed with her little puppy who he now calls “his second daughter” and asked for new pics of her constantly. he keeps telling y/n that they need to set up a play date between her dog nova and his dog rapunzel.

after getting lost once, y/n finds her way to yuta’s room, trying to remember the way they would take when they studied here. much to her surprise yuta had told her the pin to his door and she quickly typed it in, still not feeling well.

“1026” she muttered to herself as she pressed the tiny buttons. the door unlocked and she swung the door open, ready to head into his bathroom.

not even getting to step all the way into the room she was met with two people already occupying the space. a male and female, the guy was sat on the bed with his pants pulled slightly down and the girl was on her knees in front of him, very obviously giving him head. the sound of the door opening caused her to pull off of him and they both looked at the door. the girl she didn’t recognize but the guy… she had been trying to avoid all night.

“y/n?” jaehyun looked at her shocked, trying to cover himself up somewhat.

“i’m so sorry” she said at the same time jaehyun said her name once she broke out of her frozen spot. just as she spoke, she gagged and ran right into yuta’s bathroom and to the toilet instead of out the room. thankfully the toilet seat was already up as she began puking into the white bowl in front of her. her hands on both sides of the toilet, not even thinking about her hair.

all of a sudden she felt her hair being pulled back and a hand on her back rubbing in circles “let it all out.” they said quietly, encouraging her to get all of this out her system. the puking went on for a couple minutes on and off before it finally stopped all together. y/n opened her eyes once she leaned away from the toilet to see jaehyun grabbing a piece of toilet paper to wiper her mouth and even flushed the toilet for her.

feeling worn out and tired, as well as still drunk, y/n closed her eyes again and laid her head on the wall behind her. “you feeling better now?” jaehyun spoke softly, to not scare her. not even wanting to respond, she shook her hand back in forth in an “eh” way to give a response.

“c’mere” jaehyun helped her off the bathroom floor and laid her down at the top of yuta’s bed. he quickly retrieved a water from the mini fridge located on the opposite side of the room and told her to drink it. she took small sips and drank a good amount before putting the rest on the nightstand. “lay here and get some rest, i’ll find your friends and let them know where you are” he stroked the side of her head softly and stood up to exit the room.

“no… stay here.” y/n finally spoke, her voice a little weak. she looked at him sadly and it worked, he came back over to her and sat on the opposite side of the bed.

“i’ll stay, just get some rest please.” she nodded and laid there next to him, subtly inching closer to feel comfort and quickly fell asleep.

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notes: feeling a little devious 😜 also this isn’t proofread bc it’s 3 am AND SORRY IF MY WRITING ISN’T THAT GOOD 🙏🏽 I HAVENT WRITTEN IN A WHILE!! anyway jaehyun enlistment era is coming upon us… i gonna rip out my hair 😭

[love-fictional-ppl]

Heath Ledger’s joker as a bf

Pairings: joker x fem!reader

Warnings: language, joker (he needs his own warning) marijuana, blood, criminal activities🥸 smut, etc.

A/N: requested by my home girl😭🤞 (h/c) is hair color

SFW:

On the occasion he gives you a gift, just remember he didn’t pay for it

Both of you dying your hair together and then getting into a hair dye fight where in the end both of you are covered in green and (h/c)

Will force you to rob a bank with him atleast once

If, IF he showers he will make you join him

He smokes/takes Eddies so going to McDonald’s in the middle of the night is a routine at this point

Nighttime, dancing in the rain in Gotham together

Batman impersonations are your inside joke

Sharing your intrusive thoughts with each other and laughing about it like it’s the most normal thing ever

He will not go to the hospital unless he’s shot really badly so most the time he will have you help clean him up after getting into with Bruce.

If you ask him to do his hair or make up (not clown make up) he might say yes but only after a certain exchange iykyk

Will not tell you his real name until like 8 months into your relationship and he does it in the most random and casual way ever. It makes me giggle so lemme play it out for you😭

You’re sat at the table in the kitchen eating cereal while reading the newspaper, Joker sleeping still or so you thought.

“Jack.”

You jump out of the chair landing on the grown, on your ass. Looking up you see the joker standing in the doorway. You annoyed now half-shout, “Who tf is jack?!”

“Me,” he responds simply, “my name is jack.”

“Oh. Well next time don’t scare me!”

Randomly asks shit like “would you rather your brain in a cockroach’s body or a cockroach’s brain in your body?”

Does not filter himself in public so strangers do get details about your sex life

AND SPEAKING OF WHICH

TIME FOR THE NSFW PART

NSFW:

He definitely is a fan of doggy style, when you do doggy he like to put you in a chokehold

Likes to tie you up

He’s dominant that’s a fact, if you want to top him you gotta plead a little bit

Will ask to try new things a lot

Loves getting head more than giving it I feel like

Likes to cum in you or on your stomach

Overstimulation king 👑

Has a mushroom tip🫥

Tbh gives no fucks about ppl being around like he has fingered you in front of a train full of people

He hates condoms but doesn’t want kids so you better be on the pill or ready for the consequences

Degrades you and call you shit like:

“Slut”

“Whore”

“Cock sleeve”

“Cum dump”

But he also will mix nicer pet names in like:

“Pretty girl”

“Hot stuff”

“Sugar”

“Baby”

“Good lookin’”

He sucks with aftercare ngl

Most he’ll do is bring you water and cuddle a bit

Tbh that’s all I can think of😭😭😭

[dilfl0v3rss]

So BOOM the readers at a party. She a little tipsy and some girl bump into her. The reader like oh bitches can’t say excuse me. Ony trying to de- escalate the situation. Also sorry if your ask are closed. I couldn’t find anything on your page to tell me if they are.

when it came to parties ony picked and chose when he would and wouldn’t agree with you going, unless he was going himself. it wasn’t very often when your boyfriend would go to parties, but since he successfully made a big drop the previous night he thought it’d be nice to go out and enjoy himself at a party as a regular nigga and not a drug dealer.

“lemme tell you sum” his deep voice rang in your diamond stud covered ears. before he could let you out of the car, ony always made sure to let you know what it was before letting you go inside with him. “you know the rules, when you go to the bathroom give me your cup. don’t be drinking too much, and act like you got a head on those pretty shoulders, aight?” you nodded your head before leaning over the center console and giving him a sloppy kiss.

it didn’t take thirty minutes before sasha had you taking shot after shot. the slight buzz from the alcohol making your words a little slurred as you sung. “sex wit me s’amazinggggg!” you yelled along to rihanna, dancing all over sasha to the beat of the song. of course she didn’t stop you, but once ony saw you he knew it was time to take that cup away. “hol on man, i gotta go get my baby” he mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the middle of the floor.

ony was having a really good night, the weight of working finally lifted off his shoulders as he smiled while walking towards you. as your eyes met his you squealed, excitedly skipping towards him before continuing your dance on him. “hey pretty girl. how much you had t’drink?” you were still sober to the point where you knew you had three shots and a couple sips of jungle juice, smiling as you went on your tippy toes for a quick kiss. “not t’much i promise daddy”

ony smiled at the pet name, knowing your decorum was disintegrating along with your sobriety. “that’s good let me know when-” “i gotta pee papa!” you whisper yelled, but ony heard you, giving you a soft smile before taking your hand and walking towards the bathroom. you didn’t even take three steps before your hand was yanked from his as some random bitch bumped into you. ony thought nothing of it, reconnecting his hand with yours before trying to continue his journey.

“bitches is mute now? cant say excuse me?” your giggly attitude instantly replaced with anger as you stared the girl down. she whipped her head around, getting ready to say something smart. “who the fuck you calling a bitch?” ony knew you weren’t a girl who liked to argue so as soon as he saw you moving your bag off your shoulder he butted in. “unt uhh unt uhh we not doing that” he said. before you could handle your business, your movements were stopped by his tattooed arm on your waist.

“yeaa put that one on a leash” the girl giggled as she watched you try to move his arm so you can really show her what’s good. ony knew how you got when you were tipsy and was more than a hundred percent sure you could whoop this girl’s ass, but he was always against you fighting. but though that is true, he didn’t play about how people talked to or about you either. “man watch your mouth and go on somewhere. m’tryna keep her from fucking you up and you making it hard for me to want to.”

“and you, calm your little ass down for i take you to the bathroom for sum else” his deep voice made your eyes snap up towards his. stern look making your stomach get butterflies, but you feigned indifference. you rolled your eyes and continued your journey to the bathroom, mumbling something along the lines of “you lucky bitch” as you turned around.

as soon as you got to the bathroom he turned your body towards his, hand on your ass while he gave you a stern look. your eyes widened as you looked up at your now mildly pissed off boyfriend. “what i say in the car huh? you not being good ma.” he said softly. ony knew you can get a little emotional when you drank so he made sure to be as delicate as possible right now.

a pout formed on your face, eyes getting a little watery from the affects of the alcohol. like he figured, your emotions were all over the place. “s-she bumbed int’me firsttt” ony already knew you were getting ready to cry so he chose not to push the subject any further, giving you a few short pecks “sh sh sh s’okay baby i’m not mad at you. gon head and pee so you can go have fun okay?” he let you go to handle you business, sighing in relief when he seen your smile grow back on your face. he hated when you cried.

after you finished and washed your hands you went to go open the door, but ony stopped you, placing his tattooed hand on top of yours before speaking lowly to you. “you gon be good when you go back out there right? don’t wanna have to embarrass you” his words traveled straight to your panties, making you quickly nod your head as a reply. “speak up mama. you gon be good?” he turned your body around, tilting your chin up so he could see your eyes clearly. “i’ll be good” a smirk crept onto his face, gold grills peeking at you before he left a light kiss on your lips. free hand gripping your ass as he spoke.

“you better”

[daisykihannie]

For your ask game can I request Han Jisung and the number 50 please and thank you.

50.) “Quick, propose to me! Also, what’s your name?”

Pairing: Jisung x Gn!Reader

Warnings: fake dating/fake proposal, fluff??, crack??, strangers to lovers??, idol skz, alcohol consumption, mention of substances,

Jisung and His members decided to go to the club tonight to celebrate and unwind before the hectic schedules to come with their comeback. He was currently leaning against the bar while the other members were elsewhere. Minho, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Felix were out on the dance floor while Changbin, Chan, and Seungmin had run to the restrooms.

He wasn’t a huge drinker like many of the other members so he was mostly sober while nursing a random fruity beer he’d chosen. He despised the bitter taste of alcohol but he did enjoy the way it was able to calm his racing thoughts and take the edge off a bit.

He was zoning out a bit, just people watching and keeping to himself when suddenly someone had ran face first into his chest and had a vice grip on his biceps. He looked down to see a stranger on the brink of tears, clinging to him for dear life.

“Please, you’ve gotta help me.” the smaller person shouted frantically over the music. “He- he won’t leave me alone and i’m scared.” he followed their gaze when they looked behind themselves and saw a much larger, middle aged man striding over and he definitely looked pissed.

“Quick, propose to me!” the strangers pleading words took him by surprise but he didn’t really have much time to think or question them with the man closing in rather quickly. So, he pulled away and got down on one knee. He even decided to take off one of his own rings to make it seem more believable and really sell this impromptu proposal.

“wait- what’s your name?” he asked hurriedly while being on one knee and holding his ring out. “Y/N.” they said and glanced behind themselves again and the man was definitely within ear shot now.

“Y/N. I’ve loved you for so long, ever since we met in school I knew you’d be the one I married one day. I’m so lucky to have been able to call you mine for the last 4 years but I just can’t wait anymore. I can’t imagine a life without you by my side, so will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” his speech was 100% pulled out of his ass, thank god he’s a song writer who can freestyle on the spot.

“Yes! Yes! oh my god yes!” you shouted and jumped up and down in faux excitement. You took the ring from his hand, your hands shaking in fear with the knowledge that the man that’d terrified you to the point of asking a stranger to propose to you, was uncomfortably close by still. Jisung seemed to notice you struggling to grab his ring and moved to slip the ring onto your ring finger dispite it being a size or two too big.

He intertwined your hands and stood up, moving one hand to cup the side of your face that was visible to the man and covered your lips with his thumb before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to it. The man wouldn’t be able to tell that it was fake, selling the whole thing even more.

The two of you stayed still for a while, locked in the fake kiss with your eyes shut. You both hoped that when you parted he’d be gone and luckily, when jisung opened his eyes to check, he was. “He’s gone.” Jisung whispered before parting from you, then pulled away and removed his hand from your face.

“oh my god. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry to have put you through that.” you spoke so quickly that your words almost meshed together. Luckily his laugh was so bubbly and sweet that it caused your racing heart to begin to slow. “it’s okay, baby.” he chuckled again and you couldn’t help but join in. “By the way, what’s your name Fiancé?” you giggled at the insane sentence that’d just left your lips.

“Wow, don’t even know your fiancés name.” he said and clutched the shirt over his chest dramatically as if he was actually hurt. “It’s Jisung. Han Jisung.” he flashed you the brightest heart shaped smile and you swore your heart stopped for a moment. This man was breath taking. He was sweet and beautiful, he was also clearly a good person considering his willingness to help a complete stranger with such an absurd request.

“It’s nice to meet you Jisung.” you said and held out your hand for him to shake and he did with that warm laugh filling your ears again, it was infectious and you couldn’t help but to respond with your own genuine laugh. “uh- what the fuck was that Sung,” a deeper voice startled the both of you out of your little bubble.

“Oh- Hey Hyung!” Jisung replied to the man that’d spoke. When did 7 very very attractive men join you two? “Sorry about that, this is Y/N. They ran up to me and begged me to propose to them because this guy was scaring them and wouldn’t leave them alone. They were terrified, frantic, and crying and the dude was terrifying. So, I did what needed to be done to save them.” jisung explained.

You bent into a 90° bow at the waist to the 7 men and began to profusely apologize, stumbling over your words a bit as you felt your face heating up in embarrassment. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re glad that our Sungie was able to help you out. It’s just, as idols, if anyone saw that display then surely it’ll make it to the press and there could be a scandal. Our comeback is a little more than a month away so i’m just a little worried is all.” the man spoke again and this time you could hear a slight australian accent.

“You’re… idols?” you asked, eyes wide. You didn’t want to hurt or ruin the careers of any idols especially not when they’re kind enough to save you like this. The other members aren’t even mad at you for potentially hurting their idol image. This could be really bad. , you knew that, but these men were still being so kind to you despite the possibility of a scandal.

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it or beat yourself up. We can deal with any potential scandals. I’m just glad that you’re safe now. Do you want us to make sure you make it home safe in case that man is waiting you out?” A blonde with an even deeper voice and a thicker australian accent than the previous man spoke next.

“Only if it wouldn’t be too much trouble…” you answered and the 8 men were giving you the most blinding smiles you’d ever seen. It was now painfully obvious that these men were idols. How could they not be? They’re gorgeous, kind, caring, and are incredible at talking to people.

“Can I maybe get your number? You know since we are engaged now and your fiancé might need to rescue you again, it just makes sense.” Jisung was holding his phone out to you with a blank contact entry pulled up. You gave him a shy smile and took the phone, inserting your number and titling the contact “fiancé” before handing it back.

“Come on, let’s head outside and get you a taxi.” the first guy said again and the 9 of you walked out of the club as a group. The tallest of the group was successful in hailing you a taxi and you climbed in after thanking the men one last time. Jisung held his hand to his cheek, in the shape of a phone and mouthed the words “call me” before shooting you a wink as the taxi pulled away to take you home.

You looked down at your hands, a blush still hot on your cheeks and a soft smile paining your lips. That’s when you noticed the ring. Jisung’s ring was still on your finger, if you weren’t already planning to talk to Jisung again, now you had a reason to. Who knows how expensive this ring might be considering his idol status. You had to see him again, at least to return the ring.

[lotusunique]

Nights like this pt.2

Armando Aretas x Black Fem! Reader

Sorry this took a lil minute to come out guys I had to proof read! Enjoy my loves💋🌺

“He don’t wanna be saved, don’t save em. That is not my nigga don’t claim him”, You rap along to Megan thee stallion. You weren’t really the dancing in public type but you were already six or seven shots in,which meant you were letting loose.

As you dance against Kelly, absolutely having the time of your life, you spot a guy staring at you from across the dance floor.

“Go dance with him”,Kelly says. “Girl if you wanna go dance on your man that’s all you gotta say.”,you say playfully as you continue to dance. “Now you know that’s not what I meant”,She laughs. “Mhm, girl you can go dance with your man. I’m gonna go get another drink”, you smile before making your way over to the bar.

“Can I please get a sex on the beach”,you beam, your cheeks flushed from the liquor already settling in. The guy from earlier quickly appears beside you.

“You can put hers on my tab”,he says to the bartender before turning to you. “Thanks but you didn’t need to do that”,you give a small smile.

“It’s no problem. I was wondering if you’d like to dance with me.”,he says as you sip from the fruit filled drink.

You look around,realizing Armando still wasn’t here. You let out a small sigh, “Sure”, before finishing your drink. Before you know it, you’re in the middle of the dimly lit club, dancing on a random stranger. For some reason you had wished Armando was there, being the one holding you.

But you shrugged the thought off. He decided not to follow through on his word so fuck him.

“I never got your name”,The stranger says. “Y/n”,you say still dancing against him. “Nice to meet you pretty girl, I’m Eric”,he says spinning you around. You let out a laugh, “Thank you Eric”.

The casual dancing turns into serious sensual dancing as “Wus Good/Curious” by Partynextdoor starts to play.

“Ride me (Ride me), 'til I'm ('Til I'm)

'Bout to ('Bout to), cum (Cum)

PND’s vocals sing as Eric’s hands start to move softly up and down your body, the liquor making his touch feel even softer than it actually is. You gently grind your hips into his.

What you didn’t know is that while you were so caught up with your new boo, Armando was watching you across the club the entire time.

With a deep gruff , he realized he’d seen enough when he saw this random dude place his hands on your ass.

Out the corner of your eye you spot, someone walking up to you. You feel a strong tug on your arm. You look up in confusion before realizing it’s Armando.

“Um why are you on me Mando”,you ask, your words slurring somewhat. He gives you a confused glance. Seeming as you’ve never called him Mando you had to be drunk. “I’m taking you home, you’re already drunk as is”,he says clearly heated.

“Bruh let her go”,Eric attempts to “defend” you, which you find adorable. “Eric it’s fine, we’re friends from work”,you say coldly. Armando feels the chill in your tone, cutting him deep in a way. The two of you walk outside the club, to talk somewhere more private.

“What is your problem”,you shake him off you. “The fuck you mean what’s my problem.”,he asks looking at you like you’re crazy. “Exactly what the fuck I just said”,you cross your arms.

Girll that liquor got you putting some base in your voice!

“You have no right to feel any type of way about ANY of the choices I make.”,you explode. He takes a step back almost shocked at what’s coming out your mouth. “Yea that’s right. Be shook nigga”,You roll your eyes.

“First off I waited all night for you like some fuckin idiot. Just for you not to show up. Someone takes interest in me, someone wants to fuck me, and now you got a problem with it? It’s not like you were gon be the one doing it”, you spout. He narrows his eyes at you while listening to you rant.

“You play this game with me where you get under my skin, make me think you feel something for me just to turn around and play with my emotions. And truly you got me fucked up. I don’t give a damn if you are Armando Aretas with all the bitches on

you-“

You’re cut off by Armando grabbing your face and kissing you passionately. The taste of his soft lips, sweet and supple, shocks you, you’d only dreamt of this moment never expecting it to actually come true.

Leaning into his hands and into the kiss you feel rain start to drizzle before the two of you pull away. You look at him in complete awe of the events that just occurred. He stares down at you, wondering how it ever took him so long to make his move.

“Now this right here is some romantic shit”,You look up at the beautiful scene unfolding around you, causing you the two of you to laugh. “Look I don’t care about anybody else . I want you and only you. Seeing him with his hands on you, got me heated okay”, he explains.

You look up at him wondering if this is real or not. Armando eyes you with a huge smile upon his face, unbeknownst to you, he’s studying how beautiful you look.

“And I’ll kill any pendejo that even thinks about looking at you y/n”, he says, looking down at you.

Without even giving a response, you smash your lips into his. He pulls away before whispering, “Pero para responder a tu pregunta, si fuera por mí, te tendría aquí ahora mismo.”. (But to answer your question, if it it was up to me, I'd have you right here right now)

You look up at him, confused by what just came out of his mouth. Were you trippin’? Or did he just say he wanted to fuck you right here right now…

You squint your eyes at him, “Did you just say what I think you just said?”, you ask, thinking that you just imagined all of that. “I don’t repeat myself precioso “,he says with low eyes, just like last night in the office.

[heartbreakgrill]

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 8; "My reputation's never been worse."

“This is so fucking stupid.”

I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, eyes rolling at the sight of the boys, noise makers between their lips, some jank ass sign unraveling in the wind.

“Your mom’s fucking stupid,” Max fired back with his usual goofy smile, words muffled from the noise maker in his mouth. His knocked his fist against my elbow gently as he passed by, moving to help Cy hold up the poster board.

They’d bought it at a random Walgreens, after having forced the Uber driver to pull over, abruptly. Then, with bumpy hands and terrible penmanship, they wrote out some sarcastic for Sam about returning home from prison.

“Don’t be a sour puss, dude,” Adam replied. His brows were furrowed, chin dipping side to side in disagreement to my negative statement.

I looked to him, watching as he pulled a cone shaped hat down onto his hair, the rubber band snug against his chin. The meer humor of the too-small hat on his head made his words lose any meaning. I wanted to laugh, but instead I shot back, my brows skeptically, sarcasm quick as air, “Who? Me? No, never!”

Adam scoffed a laugh. His hat was finally adjusted now, hands falling to his sides exasperatedly. “Seriously. Just try to be nice, for once. Sam said Daisy’s, like, so sweet.” My skepticism only darkened my gaze, sarcasm sinking into genuine wonder, “So, what, we’re gonna be dancing around some child all summer?”

It was a valid question. When Sam asked us about Daisy joining the tour for the summer, everyone else just jumped on board. I, however, took a little convincing. What business did she even have here, 5,000 miles from home? It’s not like she had any professional connections to touch on, nor was London that interesting. Or, maybe I was just being a pessimist, again…

To say the least, I had trust issues. Or, in my therapist’s more light turn of phrase, I was cautious, careful to new people because I had a lot on the line with my career and had been through numerous situations with others that ended up with me, well…in therapy.

Max battled with the cardboard sign as the wind seemed to be winning the war. He struggled to get the words out as he scuffled to straighten its edges, which seemed to take more work than it needed to, “She’s literally only 5 years younger than you.”

“So, a child?”

“So, a 23 year old, grown woman. She’s really smart, Sam said. I’m sure you can have some fun conversations about the elements and shit.”

“Sam’s biased,” I murmured, focused now on the cigarette between my pointer and middle fingers. I dallied with lighting it, displaced energy in the act. It was early. I was tired.

“Sam’s one of your best mates,” Cy shot me a look. “Listen, just give her a chance. Stop moping just because you think some woman’s gonna take away from our guy time this summer.”

I straightened up, offense hitting my features like a stone wall, “When did I say that? I’m just worried we’re gonna have to cater to some child while we’re trying to literally do our jobs. She’s gonna be pursuing around like she’s in some Taylor Swift video while we’re going to be trying to earn our income. It’s just…weird.”

I’d never mention that fear to them- the fear I had of this trust. I think maybe if they all looked at me a little more closely, they’d see it. They’d see the fear in my eyes. But, I was really good at displacing my anxieties onto a separate, less pressing issue.

If I was ever terrified the sky was going to fall, then, suddenly, I was lashing out about the uncut grass in the front yard, randomly. Gotta love unhealthy coping mechanisms. Cy was still looking at me all judgmentally. I knew he wanted to lecture me further, but he simply reached over, patted my shoulder, and said, “Just…try not to be a dickhead, okay? Let the girl enjoy her summer.”

Max continued on, blabbering about something or the other. “I’m, like…Ollie, have you ever even seen a Taylor Swift video? I am pretty sure not a single fucking one takes place in Europe. They’re all super conceptual and abstract. Honestly, you might actually love some of ‘em. What’s that older one? With the trees and shit?”

“Out Of the Woods?” Adam was quick to fill in the blanks. I looked to him out of the corner of my vision, gaze narrowed. Of course he knew which one it was. He held his hands up, defensively, “What? My little cousin loves her.”

“Mhm,” I nodded, slow.

He trailed off, looking away, “And, maybe, you know, I do, too.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Max latched onto Adam’s help, continuing his rant about Taylor Swift, of all things. “Fuck! Out of the Woods! It reminds me a lot of the Fall for Me video! There’s, ya know, water…lots of running…self-deprecation. Fuck, a Sleep Token/Taylor Swift collab would go so hard!”

“Shit, could you imagine some real drums on one of her songs?” Cy perked up at the thought, fingers thrumming against the corner of the sign that he’d now laid his clutches on. “Sick!”

“Oh, God,” I rubbed my forehead, itching more and more to finally light up my cigarette, puff out a few smokey deep breaths. “I can feel the glitter and sparkles starting to fucking suffocate me! Can we please talk about something else?”

“Whatever, Ollie,” Adam flicked his hand towards me dismissively. He went to change the subject when his phone dinged from his pocket. He pulled it out, in one fluid motion, and read whatever text he’d gotten. “Shit! They just got their bags! Quick! Hold up the sign!”

Max shuffled around, all energetic, trying to make everything look perfect. He quickly tried to put a party hat on my head. I had to shove his entire body into Adam to stop him from getting the string down over my chin.

“Fuck off!” I cursed, brushing out the torso of my hoodie. He giggled, annoyingly, knowing he’d successfully gotten on my nerves. Again.

Max turned his attention away from me and to the two people who had just walked out of the airport, suitcases rolling behind them, backpacks looped around their shoulders. I noticed Sam, first, his head dipped down into his phone, curly blonde hair mopped up atop his head. He was dressed, head to toe, in all black. It was a welcome site, the fifth member of our posse back in our home country, our original stomping grounds, even if he wasn’t from here.

I let a smile overtake my features, excitement bubbling in my cheeks. It was actually really good to see him.

I wouldn’t have even paid any attention to the girl standing beside him if she didn’t stick out so much, like a sore thumb. Her bright pink sweater, gray sweatpants, the purples and greens swirled around her suitcase. Every single thing touching her was just…so colorful. Even the expression on her face, wide grin, cheery eyes- though they were circled by tireless bags- it was all so glaring.

I narrowed my eyes skeptically.

As Sam fumbled about on his phone, she stepped forward, excitedly taking an extra noise maker, my left over party hat, from Max. She barely got the hat on before Sam was looking up, our small crowd erupting into joyous ruckus that caused him to nearly drop his phone.

I don’t know why, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I watched her, carefully, as she went through the motions of greeting everyone. Adam was his shy, introverted self. Cy was charismatic, Max obnoxiously flirty.

And she was just…constant, through it all. Upbeat, grinning, encouraging to every single average word that my friends told her.

And then she was looking at me, offering her hand. My head shook slightly as if to unscramble my consciousness. I glanced between her hand, her own gaze, unsure of what to do or say. I had been too busy watching. I barely brought myself out of that entrapped stare before my name came fumbling out of my mouth.

“Oliver.”

She seemed a little put off, taken aback, after I blatantly ignored her outstretched hand. But, I didn’t want to shake it. I was afraid that, if I touched it, she might shock me, sting me, scorch me with that bleeding sunshine she seemed to have sticking to her skin.

Besides, I couldn’t trust her, right? Right.

I turned my head away, feeling somewhat ashamed for the way I brushed her off. There was a rejected twinkle in her eyes, one that I could not handle. Moving on from that interaction, or in an attempt to do so, I tilted my chin down, glazing my eyes to the concrete. I shrunk beneath the cover of my hood. I didn’t need to feel bad for anything. I didn’t even know her, nor did she know me.

As the others finished up with their exchange of greetings, the group itself began making its way back to the Uber, with Sam and Daisy now a part of the flow.

The car ride back was objectively short, though it felt longer than the time on Apple Maps said. I rode in the back with the guys, pressed up against the door due to the lack of space. My long knees jutted out awkwardly. The bone of my leg ached from knocking against the door with each bump in the road that the car hit.

I stared out of the window, hoping the painful time would pass quicker. The ugliness of London stared back at me. A small, curious part of me kept darting my eyes towards the front seat, where she sat. But I stilled my gaze on the city.

That was maybe part of the issue- I just didn't understand why Daisy was so interested in visiting this place anyways. It was boring, bland. I associated the cloudy gray skies and rainy summers with some of the worst times of my life. This city looked the way I felt for most of it, too. The people were shit, too. Rude, always in a rush, unforgiving and untrustworthy.

What adventure could one find in this wet, concrete maze of hell?

Bored, I moved my attention back to the interior of the car, still resisting that urge to look forward. Adam, Cy, Sam, and Max were a cacophony of lost conversation, catching up, rumbling laughter. I listened for a moment, intently awaiting her to throw in her two sense. She seemed like the type to talk somebody’s ear off. Perhaps I could read between her sentences, find out her motives, her intentions, find something to use against her, so I could easily hate her and put distance between us-

Oh.

She was sleeping.

Her body was slumped against the door, neck pillow twisted around to support her forehead from the glass of the window. She cradled her hands to her stomach, the blanket she had just up underneath her chest.

The curve of her face caught my eye the most, the simple stillness of the lines around her lips, the peaceful flutter that ruffled her lashes every so often. I wondered what she dreamt of- rainbows, sunshine, lollipops. I bet she was the type of person who would respond, "World peace," when asked what she would wish for if she had a genie.

God. I really was an asshole. Here was this stranger, this beautiful, seemingly kind stranger, trying to catch up on sleep after traveling nearly 20 hours…and here I was, creating an entire persona around the two facts I actually knew about her. Maybe I should give her a chance, like the guys said. Maybe I should let her in, even if it was barely past the surface, and try to be amicable.

Maybe she wouldn’t sell my name to the paparazzi. Maybe she wouldn’t leak photos of me online, or call news sites to gain traction on social media.

I nearly flinched as she shifted in her slumber, so lost in my thoughts that the disruption was a panic. Her lips parted, just so, as air deflated from her lungs. The hair that curled around her face ruffled from the gentle gust.

Though she looked like Sam, she really was beautiful. Sure, Sam was attractive, in his own way. But, uniquely, Daisy was…honestly, gorgeous, all doe-eyed, rose lips, freckled cheeks.

I kept staring at her, analyzing, accidentally memorizing.

As I felt myself sinking, into my seat, into myself, into this stare I had on her, I straightened up, shoved myself back in the door.

The poor girl wasn’t even awake.

And I was being far too open.

When we reached the hotel, everyone piled out of the Uber. I went to step out, myself, to begrudgingly helped with luggage. But after I cast a casual glance over my shoulder, I noticed Daisy was still asleep. As though she were his responsibility, I found Sam and went to vocalize the issue with him. But he was busy with their bags.

None of the others were really familiar enough with her to consider her.

No one but me, I guess, because I was reaching out my fingers, touching her shoulder, telling her, "We're here."

I swept myself away before she could wake up and look me in the eyes. - "Where's your sister?" Cy inquired, poking at his dish with the fork in his hold.

Sam shrugged as he continued shoveling french fries in his mouth. "Sleeping, I think. She was fucking exhausted. Could barely get herself to bed this morning.”

"Poor girl," Max pouted his bottom lip. "Has she ever traveled this far from home?"

"Nope."

"Damn. Good for her, then. It's hard to just leave everything behind, to leave your everyday life for this type of thing for this long," Max continued.

I listened intently, though I made it seem like I wasn't even conscious of the guys seated at the table with me. Where they thought I was mindlessly stirring my drink, I was reading between the lines of every vague fact Sam dropped about Daisy.

"Well," he held a hand before his mouth as he chewed, swallowed. He sat back as he began to unload more information about his sister, "No offense to her, but she doesn't have much of a life. She works, like, two-three jobs at any given time. She works at some clinic during the day, waits tables in the evening, then does some stuff on campus here and there."

"Shit. Hope she's taking care of herself," Adam commented, thoughtfully.

"She does. I think. I don't know. We don't really get much time together anymore. Ever since mom died...I don't know. It's been hard to stay connected."

"This summer's gonna be good, then, for you guys to get to see each other," Cy touched Sam’s wrist with his fist, encouraging our friend with his response.

"Yeah," Sam's eyes seemed a little distant then, like there were foggy memories, regrets clouding his consciousness, "Yeah, I hope so."

Max went to speak again when Sam's phone went off. He pulled it out, scrolling through the texts he'd received. "Speak of the devil."

Sure enough, Daisy came padding into the hotel bar. Her hair was damp, twisted up behind her head by some clip. Her features were more prominent this way, skin shining with the care she must have just put into it. As she approached us, her perfume breezed off her skin, off her stupid Taylor Swift hoodie, right past my nose.

It smelled so sweet that I had to look away, focus on something else.

Everyone else greeted her, asking about how she slept, how she felt. I was inattentive, attempting to make it seem like I hadn’t just been thrown off balance.

I needed to do something, say something to her, to be welcoming. To make it seem like I wasn’t such a dickhead, even though I pretty much was. So, I worked on some phrases in my head, hoping to catch her in a side conversation, so there wasn’t so much tension with the others listening in. But, she walked out of the bar as quickly as she'd come.

I found the air to be cooler without her occupying the space.

I shivered and turned my chin towards that freeze.

-

Later that evening, I found myself on the hotel roof.

It was one of my favorite spots, no matter which city we were passing through, which state I found myself to be stuck in. I could go up to the highest floor, even if it wasn’t too far off of the ground, tune out the stress that came with work, and relax into the peace and quiet.

It was one of the healthier coping mechanisms my therapist and I had been working on. I was an antisocial person, to say the least. And when I’d had to be around others for too long, working literal overtime to just function like a normal person, I’d become irritable, withdrawn.

So, stalking off in the late hours of the evening with a book in my hand and some lyrics in my head became a usual, practiced ritual that I was comforted by, especially on tours.

The breeze of London flew past my face, braising goosebumps on my neck. I tucked my chin into my hoodie more. There were these tiki lights, all around me and the intimate seating area I occupied, but the little bits of light did nothing to help me see the book in my hands.

I tucked it away after straining for a few moments and settled on just resonating with myself for a bit. I watched the flames of the fire pit before me, listened to it crackle and pop. I was so focused on the peacefulness, that I hadn’t even noticed the elevator ding, nor the person scuffling across the concrete of the roof.

In fact, I didn’t even notice her until she was sitting across from me, these little alcohol bottles in her hands. The movement of her sitting before me flitted my gaze up, edges of my vision blurred slightly from the intensity of the flames. My hearing focused after. There was music streaming from the speakers on her phone, some Taylor Swift song I didn't recognize. I withheld the urge to roll my eyes and studied her movements.

She read the label on the mini shot of Jack Daniels with squinted eyes. I'd never seen someone pay so much attention to a simple liquor Maybe she'd never drank it before. That would be a strange fact, considering she was 23. Every 23 year old I knew had gone through every liquor known to man. Then, she drank it and I realized why she was so observant. Her face turned up in this grimace, lips puckered, brows furrowed. She just couldn't handle her liquor. Her examination of the bottle was really just a hesitance to consume it in the first place.

I stifled a laugh and instead found my words, urged to tease her for this occurrence, "Gonna share?' Maybe I should have intruded her peace more gently, or maybe I should have said something sooner than I did. Either way, I had spooked her enough that she jumped.

Her once shocked grimace twisted into a deep frown, like she was annoyed I had disturbed her. "How long have you been sitting there?"

My grin widened, though it didn't seem like she found much humor in the situation. "Long enough to know you can't take a shot." I held out my hand, awaiting her to hand over one of the bottles. She didn't do that Instead, her face hardened a bit and she made another comment, “Sorry I’m not an alcoholic. If you want one, you have to come get it, by the way. I’m comfy now.”

I was taken back by her crudeness. Everyone said she was so kind, so sweet. I'd even overheard her niceties earlier, at the airport, at the bar. Had I done something?

Instead of setting the record straight, communicating, though, I became defensive to her jabs. As I reached for one of the bottles, I said, "Comfy with this trash music playing?"

Funnily enough, this made her face sink more, if at all possible. Her frown was deep as a river, and murky as one, too, "Real men listen to Taylor Swift."

I tried another joke, hoping it would salvage the wreckage we were feeding, "Hey, haven't you heard? I'm a vessel, not a man?"

I don't know if it did, but she at least continued speaking to me. "So, vessel, what are you doing up here? Can't sleep?"

I tossed my hand in her direction, speaking with my casual satire, "Obviously." I looked away from her, breathless. I was trying so hard, so incredibly hard to seem careless, chill. I didn’t know why I couldn’t just, actually, genuinely not give a fuck.

I reached for my cigarettes, too stressed out to handle a head that was some sober from nicotine. After a long drag, I felt that familiar buzz of a clear head, the temporary reduction of anxiety.

Cigarettes were always a killer ice breaker, helpful in even the toughest, most awkward conversations. So, when my eyes popped back open and met hers, I offered a hit.

If her face had been disgusted before, it was even more so now. "That's okay, thanks," she almost sneered.

I pursed my lips. Okay, I wasn't the only one killing this conversation. She acted like she was just too good for anything that I had to do with. Like if she were to take a drag from this cigarette, she'd be infected with my sickness.

I voiced the concern with my snide tone again. Her response nearly made me choke on my own spit, “More like my mom died of lung cancer because she smoked for thirty years.”

As quick as possible, I stomped the butt into the ground. "Sorry."

She hummed some sort of response, looking away so uncomfortably. I wanted to grovel, to beg for her forgiveness in the case of such a small moment of misunderstanding, but I settled on another painful jab at a nice conversation.

“I’d ask what you’re doing up, but I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep after the day you had.” She responded in that same dry tone, "Yeah, no."

Annoyed, I began to wonder where all this sweetness had gone. Earlier, with the guys, she had spoken like she'd known them for forever. Here, with me- she acted like I'd spit in her coffee this morning, like I was holding her at gun point just to have this conversation.

I gave up on trying to be overly considerate and shot straight to the point. I wanted answers anyways, and now I had a good reason to search for them, "What's your deal, Daisy?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" She responded.

I shrugged as I crossed my arms over my chest. What did she want it to mean? "Why are you here?" Instead of just answering the question, she countered me, echoing the question. Good fucking game, Daisy Hallett. Good fucking game.

I stretched my body out as I thought, unsure of how to answer. What was I here for? To do my job, obviously. So, I told her that. But, I should have known she would pry deeper. That were her job, after all, to observe, analyze, pry.

“That’s not what you’re here for,” She rejected my words, shaking her head just slightly, “That’s what everyone else is here for. What about you, Oliver?”

I started making music for myself, not anyone else. In the darkest, most terrible parts of my life, it had gotten me through to the other side with ease. It was my biggest coping skill, sitting at a clear number one on the list my therapist and I had outlined.

Getting paid for it, getting to tour and travel cities…that was all a plus. Touring, performing itself, were two things I was still trying to get used to. It was awesome to get to play my music life for others, to help them through to the other side, but it was sometimes…overwhelming, a hard pill to swallow.

So, I answered honestly this time, “To…worship. To celebrate my music, myself…life.”

She was impressed by this answer, pleased, and I could tell this by the stretch of her lips. That sweet, enticing smile did something to me.

As she held up the shot bottle in a gesture to cheers, I returned the smirk. We danced on the edge of some invisible line.

"To life."

I wanted to hear more of her voice, more of...her, more about her. So, I scrambled and said, "Wait, what about you?"

“There’s no deeper meaning to anything I do,” she waved me off.

I understood her more in this moment than I sometimes understood the people closest to me. She was like- she was insecure, she was scared. She was a little kid with monsters under her bed and in her closet.

So, I affirmed her existence with words that seemed so simple, yet would have meant so much for me to hear, too. “Oh, Daisy, there’s always deeper meaning to everything humans do. Think. What’s yours?”

This threw her off balance, yet somehow kept her from falling off the edge. It made the gears in her head turn, made her question her own thoughts. "I guess…I guess…to find that deeper meaning. To find what I’m looking for, maybe.”

She still didn't seem too sure, but I knew that, once this summer ended, once the leaves turned brown, and she returned back to a place called home, she would know it in her bones.

And I think, maybe, I might know it, too.

Sooner, rather than the later that I hoped for, we were in the elevator. Hours of breathless conversation sat, stale in the air on the roof, abandoned as the steel doors trapped us in silence.

The more she told me, the more terrified I was of her very existence. She was smarter than me, and very good at returning snide comments. Her wit was so profoundly intelligent, that I found myself silenced on more than one occasion.

Above all this- she was a disruption- she was chaos. She made me think differently, harder. She made me laugh.

I was drawn in by all of this, by her eyes, by the way the corners of her pink lips curled up into her cheeks. It took me a second to realize that she was staring back up at me, that our shoulders were turning to face one another, that my fingers were grazing the sleeve of her hoodie.

"You're very pretty, Daisy," the words fell out in a dangerous whisper. I loved the way she blushed, the way the tip of her nose scrunched, and she fell back onto her heels a bit.

I would have kissed her, I knew that for sure, had the elevator doors not opened up, had we not parted ways there, in the barren hallways. And I would have sought her out, would have reached for a simple phone number, another moment on the roof, another conversation about life and college and her favorite fucking color...

had I not made it back to my room and looked myself in the eye, through the smudged reflection of the bathroom mirror. The painful eye contact brought me back down to Earth, reminded me of the ugliness swirled up inside my chest, the bitter desire of my own self interest, selfishness.

I was...I was the chaos. I was the disruption. Here was this beautiful, interesting, smart girl...and here was me, this man-giant, who could barely hold a conversation without feeling like he was going to have a panic attack. Besides all that, her brother was my fucking best friend. I was his boss.

This was territory that I could not enter, not without a guilty conscience and someone's broken heart. So, I would proceed with caution, although it ended up making me seem like the worst person in the world.

-

I knew I could no longer keep up the act only a few weeks in, all thanks to Whitney Houston and this stupid pink fucking dress.

I watched her parade herself all night, guzzling drinks like they were air, batting her stupidly prim and perfect eyelashes my way. She knew exactly how to get me going- how to lock me in, most of all. And I was playing right into the fucking game, weak signs and Achilles heels all exposed from the second that she stepped out of that hotel room.

When I saw that knowing, vivacious smirk- I knew tonight would be different.

It wasn't until she was passed out, in my bed, with my hoodie on, that I realized I was falling for her. I had been able to subside the hunger that I felt, the hunger I felt to speak to her, to consume her with my eyes, my teeth, my hands, my body- God. It was easy to push all these thoughts away when she wasn't there- but then, she'd show up at breakfast or dinner or in my dreams and thoughts and desperations and I'd spiral again.

It didn't help that I was letting it get to me so much- and she was literally trained in analyzing behavior. I exposed my curiosities with even the slightest dip in my gaze or lift in my shoulders. There was a moment, during breakfast, when she told us of her plans for the evening of one our first shows- that she wasn't coming to.

Max had to go and make a stupid joke when I just barly glanced up from my plate, "Even Ollie's hurt!" I stopped coming to so many social gatherings, at least where she was concerned. And, then, I got all the space I needed when we took off on the buses.

Everyone flocked to her side, wanting even a second of her attention, while I kept to myself on the other bus. Because I thought the guys might leave me alone about it, I could almost reside in absolute peace.

But, then, Ronnie came knocking on my bunk.

It was early morning. We were stopped for gas, somewhere in Northern Italy. The bus was deadly silent, with nothing but my own quiet breath and the hum of the outside world to keep e company. Ronnie came in, bounding, like she always did. She slammed the bus door shut, jarring me from the focus I'd had on the game of Mario Kart pulled up on my Switch. Next thing I knew, she was ripping open the curtain to my bunk.

"Why the fuck are you rotting in here like a mummy? I'm close to wrapping you up in toilet paper and shoving you in with the suitcases!"

I rolled my eyes as she spoke and slouched my shoulders away. The hood of my sweatshirt dipped enough that she was no longer in my view. "Sam needs to stop gassing up your jokes. It's getting to your head."

"You're literally just jealous because your jokes are only ever mean and borderline tone-deaf," Ronnie grabbed the lip of my hood and tugged it down over my face.

I wriggled away from her, Switch dropping towards the inside of the bunk. I shoved her hands away. "Says you, Miss Jimmy Carr."

Ronnie's jaw jutted open a bit, "Now that's fucked, Ollie."

I went to jab back again, but she held up a hand, head tilted like she was a tired, annoyed mother of a band of men babies. "Stop while you're ahead, dude. Back to what I came in to harass you about- you need to come join us! We're playing Mario Kart with peaches- Daisy, sorry. You guys would get along sooo great. I know you're, like, weird about new people, but she's so fucking funny. Please, please just come over, hang out, be chill for once in your life."

Peaches. They had given her a nickname. Peaches, as if she weren't already sweet enough to sour the cuts on my skin.

I huffed and puffed at the rant as I pulled my hood down the back of my head. "First of all, I don't play Mario Kart-"

"I literally hear the music coming from your Switch," Ronnie pointed with a dead stare at the device, muffled humming rumbling from beneath my blanket.

I met her eye, absent any shame of my white lie. I took a breath and dove back into my rejection, "Second of all, why the hell do you guys give out the cringiest, most ridiculous nicknames? Like, peaches?What even is that?"

"It's called joy, magic, and fun, you grinch," Ronnie pinched my elbow. I flinched away from her touch again and she snickered. "If you don't like Daisy, just say so. I won't tell anybody. I'll just resent and judge you in silence- silent words, not punches."

What did she mean, that I didn't like Daisy? I knew I'd been passive towards her, but I never made it so obvious-

The expression on my face must have read confusion or shock because Ronnie popped a hip and crossed her arms.

"Listen," she added, "I know that she probably irks you. I get it. You're the bad boy, dark soul type and she's this ray of fucking sunshine and, yes, peaches. Just- give her a chance before you rain all over her parade."

"I literally never said I had a fucking problem with her. Why does everyone think I hate her guts when I've literally only ever had one conversation with her?" I frustratedly spoke, words rushed together. Ronnie stood back a second, reading the scrunch of my brows, the way I pushed myself up onto my elbows. Then, her offended frown morphed into something knowing, as though bits of information clicked in her head.

"Oh," she rhythmed, grinning now, "I see what's going on here. Hey, she's gorgeous.” "Oh, my God, here we go," I stood from my bunk, now, unwilling to just lay there and listen to her try to evaluate my behavior.

Ronne didn't follow me as I made my way to the back room, "Ollie...just remember who you are. And who she is."

And this sentence alone threw me for the biggest loop.

I didn't even know what she meant by that, but as well I knew Ronnie...it was definitely more than met the eye, deeper than any surface level warning anybody else could give. Not only did I know Ronnie well, but she could read me like a book. She knew what to say to make my skin crawl. Who I am...who Daisy is.

Analyzing the statement from top to bottom, general to specific, it was simple. She was my best friend’s brother. And I was his boss.

It meant more than that, though.

Ronnie meant that Daisy…Daisy was delicate. Daisy was meat, fresh off a shattered bone, and I was a hound.

I was always the hound. The Albatross, even. A winged creature always coming in to swipe shiny things off of stormy shores.

Ronnie didn’t want to harm me with the statement, but she sure as hell wanted to humble me. And that she did.

Each time I found myself aching to find Daisy’s gaze, I’d shrink back into myself. Remember my place. Remember who I was.

And, then…that damn Whitney Houston song. That damn pink dress.

Ronnie knew I was slipping, when I first spotted Daisy, in the doorway of her hotel room, long legs on display. I caught my lips beginning to party, drool beginning to pool in my teeth. This appreciative smirk came upon my face until I met Ronnie’s frown.

And I moved on.

I kept trying to move on, to fly away, leave the gold necklace on the beach for some other lucky, hopeless idiot to clean the sand off of, treasure for the rest of their sorry days.

I paid for her meal, as some sort of reparation for the damage I must’ve done all evening, being the hungry being I was while she toyed with the lock on my cage.

But, I just couldn’t . Especially not when she was running from the bar, sickness visible on her face. I could’ve left it where it was- Max was shuffling after her, ready to help, ready to hold her hair up.

Before I knew it, my feet were racing me out of the door, my hand was on Max’s shoulder, a kind smile was reassuring him that I could handle it, that he could go back to having fun.

My hands were in her hair, my neck was cradling the crown of her head, she was reaching for my wallet, letting us into the hotel room, laying down on my bed. I was giving her my hoodie, placing a bandage on her leg, caressing her fruity skin.

And then…just like that, as quickly as the rain began, like when you can see it in sheets, pounding into the Earth, just there, off in the distance…then it’s splattering on your windshield, the sound jarring you from your tired drive, the blur harming your vision of the road.

It was raining in my hotel room.

I didn’t have an umbrella.

I spent the entire night, laying there on the bed beside her, faced away, tensed up. Every breath she took stopped my heart. Every wrinkle from the white sheets made my eyes blink.

I was spending so much of my thought process trying to remember the taste of her fleeting lips on my own, pressing my fingers to them as though they were stained from her, as though I could close my eyes and taste them, again and again and again.

Then, in the morning, she returned my hoodie. There was this…look…this distant, worried look. Had she remembered? Had she remembered the words I said? Was this going to change anything? Everything? At breakfast, I ignored her persistent eyes, the gaze burning into my soul for answers. When she told us she couldn’t remember anything, I was little relieved.

If she didn’t remember, I could put distance between us, try to forget it myself- try to forget the way her fingers buried themselves into my hair. Try to forget the feel of her nose, pressed into my cheek, her chest, warm against my own.

While I was able to put physical distance between us this week, being that work kept us busy. But, the mental, emotional yards were harder to climb.

Once we made it through the airport, to Italy, I began my practice of celibacy, against the thoughts of her, against us.

I think part of me knew it wouldn’t last. I think part of me didn’t want it to. I think that’s why I was there- in the elevator, headed for the roof, in hopes that I might find her there. I didn’t even know if it was a place she frequented, but my intuition told me it was a good place to look.

And I was right.

I acted shocked when I first saw her, like it didn’t help my blood pump, seeing her, feet in the water, hair curling around her forehead.

She looked so…tense. Stressed. There was this permanent furrow in her brow. Did she really not remember…anything? At all?

Though it was a relief, I wanted to jog her memory (I wanted to kiss her).

I asked Daisy, barely glancing over at her in the seat beside me. From the corner of my eye, I watched her chew upon on her bottom lip, “Not really.”

Why did it feel like a lie?

She must’ve remembered something. Sure, she had been drinking, but…she was smarter than that. “Okay,” I choked, snatching another look at her.

I noticed Daisy turn her chin to return the gaze and I looked back at the city. I couldn’t look into her eyes, look at her face. I’d crumble.

“Is there something I should be remembering?”

It was timid, shy. But bold.

Bolder than I could bring myself to be right now.

Unable to find my own words, unable to form my own lie, I echoed her.

“Okay,” she copied.

The moment swelled in my mind. I wanted- needed her to remember. I wanted her to feel the ache in my bones at the thought of our lips pressed together. Wanted her to feel the longing Maybe then, she’d be the one to break, and I could blame it on her. Make her out to be the bad guy, going after me.

What a fucked up thing to think about.

Before I could catch myself, I blurted, “You don’t remember-“

At the same time, she went to push further on the topic.

I excused myself, motioned for her to continue. But, of course, she let me go instead.

“You don’t remember coming back to the hotel?”

I knew I was confusing her.

“Not really. you’re sure there’s nothing you want to tell me? Something important I should be remembering?” her knuckles, clasped together, were turning white.

I shrugged and pretended to be unaware, “I don’t think so.”

“Why did you tell me to come sit with you?”

She really knew how to make a guy question his own thought patterns. It would make her a really great therapist- but it just made me want to run.

To hide. To slip away from this disruption in my damaged peace.

I sighed, thoughtful, though still unsure, “I don’t know. Thought it would be nice. Like when we were in London-“

“Like when we were in London and you proceeded to pretend like we never did this? Like when we were in London and you kept interrupting me, so I couldn’t tell everyone we had been up on the roof together?”

So, she was pissed.

I knew she would be. She acted like she didn’t care, but I saw through the disguise. It reminded me of me.

I shrugged, putting on the same play, “Like that.”

I guess that was the comment that sent her off the edge, though. She was too guarded, too respectful of herself to take the bullshit I pushed. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

That wasn’t it for me. I needed to know what she knew. She obviously remembered more than she was letting on.

I slid into the elevator behind her, “Daisy-“

I swear to God, the rhythm of her breathing palpitated when I said her name-

“I need you to be honest with me. What do you remember?”

“Oh, cause you’re such a conscientious person yourself?”

I pulled at my hair, stressfully, “I really don’t think we’re on the same page right now, Daisy. Please, if we could just talk about this, if you could just tell me what you remember-“

Gears seemed to click in her brain. Something I said, the way I moved, the flash of the stars in her eyes, something had triggered a memory in her head. Something suddenly made sense.

I tried to help, though I was probably just being an asshole. “I want to figure this out, okay?”

I wanted to figure her out.

Whatever clicked was- it fucked things up.

“Oliver,” she frowned, “I can’t play this game with you.”

Game?

What game?

I was only ever playing defense- keeping to myself, keeping her away from my heart, trying to maintain distance. She had kissed me- I was the one to turn her away.

My shoulders fell, “What game? Daisy…I’m confused!”

“So am I, Oliver!”

Fuck. The way she said my name-

“I’m- you’re fucking with my head!”

Like she wasn’t fucking with mine?!

I went back to my original question, hoping to continue digging there, instead of worrying about this new hole she was unburying, “What do you remember?”

“It doesn’t matter, Oliver! I just don’t want to do this with you. Max is right. I should listen to him.” What the fuck did Max say? Why was he involving himself in this? How did he even know about- us- when we didn’t even- what?

What was happening?

“I’m not doing this with you.”

The doors opened, and she was leaving me. In her dust. In the swell of her words.

I retreated back to my room, throat tight, chest contracting for any gulp breath I could get. I fell back against the door like there were bullet holes bleeding out of my chest. I wanted to just...be honest. To be honest with her. Tell her what I really thought, what really happened, how I felt about her.

It wasn't the boundaries holding me back now. All my senses of morality and respect for our situation were dead. It was me. I was the iceberg. I was the gun.

I found my way to the bed, lay there like an empty casket. Dead, hollow, shards of wood. Why was I so afraid of her?

Maybe she'd be good for me...better than the last relationship I had, that much I could already tell. But, maybe she didn't want me for that.

Maybe she wanted to scalp me for my money, for my fame, dish out the gossip to the tabloids. Maybe she wanted to love me.

Maybe I deserved something good. Maybe I deserved to take a risk on something. Maybe I needed to. I was outside her door, before I was really conscious to my own movements, knocking, waiting. For barely a second.

She was opening the door, standing there in this barren light like an angel.

"Daisy."

I was kissing her.

Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, whatever cruel fate she may prophesize or goodness she may expose to my paled skin- I didn't care.

Because she was kissing me.

-

I hadn’t been with someone for over a year.

That was what was so jarring about the entire situation.

It made me cautious, held me back. I’d been on a dating ban since I switched to my new therapist, who wanted me to focus on myself more than I always did on another person.

And for a while, it was going well.

Until Daisy disrupted that.

I knew, for as long as she was alive, breathing my air, I just could never be alone.

Usually, when I dated someone, when I was with them…I still felt that loneliness because I would give so much. And that person never returned it.

Daisy did, by a tenfold. She was…present. She so easily showed up, made time for me, chased me down when I went into those bouts of self isolation.

It was difficult to let her in…to let her join me in the dark.

But she made it feel less lonely. She made me feel…whole.

I started going to breakfast more often, started including myself in the group activities. Not only did she make me feel less alone, but she made me feel like I needed human connection.

“It’s warm, isn’t it?”

I scoffed at my therapist’s words, so simple for something so complex. “Warm. It’s hot. I feel like I’m on fire.”

“Good. Burn,” she responded. “You’re in the light now, Oliver. How do you feel about it?”

“Wow, what a question,” I teased.

Dr. Grime sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement was delayed, due to the time zone different, the laggy wifi in the hotel room. “Seriously, Oliver. Is it…do you feel like you want to snuff it out?”

“Of course I do,” I shuffled on my bed, “you know me. Something good comes and I feel like I don’t deserve it. But…I think it might be okay if I hang around in this for a while.”

“I think so, too,” she smiled. “I like how your language has changed, too. You’d tell me, ‘I don’t deserve this.” Now you say, you feel like you don’t deserve it. You’re recognizing rational thoughts from emotional ones. That’s very important. I’m proud of you.”

I offered a strained smile in response, uncomfortable with her praise. It was appreciated, though, and gave me body a sense of accomplishment.

Maybe I was getting better.

“So, this Daisy,” she leaned forward, more intrigued with the personal aspect of my love life, like some maternal figure.

I chuckled, shaking my head approvingly, “Daisy.”

“Do you…love her?” Dr. Grime poked.

I blushed, deeply, but quickly shoved the thought away, “Oh, no. No way. I…I barely know her. That’s- that’s crazy. Definitely not. No.”

My phone dinged in rhythm with the end of my sentence. It was her.

Daisy: soon as sam goes to bed, i can be over

My eyes lingered on the text, more concerned with this situation now than the accusatory, knowing tone of my therapist’s words.

“Mm,” she paused, “no, of course. So, is this just…a casual summer fling for you? A way to get over everything this, figure out what it is you want out of a relationship? It’s important to have something like this, a stable ground to work up off of for the future, considering you don’t have a great idea as to what love should be like.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, toying with my phone. I stared at the message, reading and rereading the message again and again.

What…was this.

What was this to me?

What was this…to her?

We’d established some boundaries, mostly that I couldn’t really commit to anything to serious. And she said that had been okay.

Was I still okay with that?

Was that still what I wanted?

I was so obviously falling in love with her, but I would never tell anybody that.

Especially not her.

But it didn’t matter if I loved her- did I want her that way? Did I want this to last past the summer?

I did.

And that’s what scared me the most.

Loving her beyond the swept up dream we were caught in, back home, domestically. Loving her casually, routinely, in the kitchen back in my apartment, through school, sharing plants and bath towels.

I wanted that.

I wanted her…her ends and odds.

I lied, “No. I don’t want that right now. Got tour going on, new album soon. You know. Busy.”

Long after therapy ended, I stared at the message. The sun had set, the day had died…and I just couldn’t think of anything to say.

I think if I were to be around her right now, I might blurt out some passionate, mindless thing that I couldn’t bring us back from.

I needed to do…what I always did. Be alone. Ruminate in my thoughts in the darkness of a foreign hotel room in a strange city. All alone.

This felt…easier. Comfortable. What I was good at.

Yeah…this was easier.

The next day, I couldn’t stay from her any longer.

I needed her and she was needed that, too- however we could get each other.

So I pushed aside the feelings I had for her- put up all my walls and boundaries, and took her into my arms-

We would have this summer, even if it killed us.

–

"Hiya, Ollie, dear!"

My mother's voice was a sweet symphonic sound to my tired ears. We were in near opposite time zones, hundreds of miles apart, and I missed her more than anything. Touring usually took everything out of me and she was the one, separate, stable person I could turn to.

We'd only called once or twice the past few months due to my obsessed perversions with a certain best friend's sibling who had been taking up all of my time- not that I was complaining about who.

It was only recently that my mom and I had established such good rapport. Since I was young, she'd struggled to wrap her head around my career choices. Now that I was fully devoted to the act, and quite successful, she pushed aside her disagreement with it and chose to just keep supporting me.

Though I couldn't always answer, her calls were welcome.

"Hi, mum," I sat up in the hotel bed, my back sighing in gratitude at the change in posiiton. i had been rotting in here for a few hours, a little bored since Daisy was out with her friend. I could've went and hung with the guys, but I honestly needed some time to myself. That time was starting to really feel like loneliness, though. I guess before I met Daisy, they were empty hours full of empty feelings. Now, I was waking up to the reality of my existence. I'd made it so dull.

"Are you in Paris yet? Or are you still travelling?"

"We made it a few days ago," I replied. “Show’s tomorrow."

"Oh, I love Paris," she remarked. I could hear her lovely grin through the tone of her words. "I remember when we went there on a school holiday. My favorite part was the Eiffel Tower. It's so big. Now, I hear that it sparkles. You'll have to take a photo for me."

"Sure, mum."

"Have you gotten out much or are you holing up in your hotel room?"

Sheepishly, I scratched my neck. My response was delayed a bit; we both knew the answer. “Uh...I’m getting out there. Ya know, hanging out.”

“Ugh, Ollie,” I could nearly hear the roll of her eyes through the phone. “You know need a lady friend. Someone to drag you out of your bed. I mean, how many times do you get to see Paris. And get paid for it!”

At the mention of a ‘lady friend,’ I blushed. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her about Daisy, and damn did I want to. Though we weren’t even officially together. I didn’t know how to explain that to my mom, so maybe I’d just shy away from the topic, talk about something else.

But I guess my lapse of silent thinking made her think that there already was a lady friend.

“Oh?” she questioned with a cheerful lace to her tone. I didn’t say anything, my brain was unable to come up with anything in response. Acting defensive always made people think the opposite of what I said. Should I just tell her? Get it out of the way? Let her lecture me about my poor choices.

“Well, I won’t badger you. When you're ready,” she was already responding.

I was surprised that she was going to leave it there, to say the least, which only furthered my sentence. She usually pushed until I gave her some semblance of the truth. As she was getting older, I’d realized she gotten more relaxed and didn’t push as much as she used to. I think it was partially due to the guilt she felt for everything between us growing up.

So, I just went to move the subject along when she jumped back on it, “Just- please don’t tell me it’s that Fiona girl. I’m so sorry if it is. I just can’t sit around and watch you be treated so poorly by someone so...so awful. Again. Her personality is just- wow. Though, I shouldn’t be surprised. I went to school with her mum, and she was awful towards me. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree-”

I had to stop her while she was ahead. I guess some things never really, truly changed. "Mum, please! I’m not seeing Fiona again, I promise. I’m not...”

I wasn’t offended that she thought I was. It was just...more or so shocking. Shocking that she thought I’d put myself back in that. I had, a handful of times before. But...I was different now.

I guess she hadn't been around me these past few months, but I had truly changed. This past May’s Oliver very well could’ve let Fiona waltz back into his life. But July’s Oliver? He would’ve been hesitant.

And, even more so- Daisy’s Oliver...Daisy’s Oliver was a changing man. Daisy’s Oliver was a better man.

And I wanted to tell my mum that, I decided. She needed to know- it would ease her mind, along with my own. I know she was always worried for me. So, I told her-

“No, I’m seeing someone else. Her name...her name’s Daisy,” that felt good to admit, to put into the Universe, that I was seeing her, and she was seeing me, even if there were no labels attached.

“Daisy?” she perked up at the name. “That’s a pretty name. What’s she look like? You got any pictures you can text me?”

I realized quickly that I didn’t. In the near two months that we had been sleeping together, consuming one another’s souls, we hadn’t taken a single picture. It was probably for the best, just in case they somehow fell into the wrong hands. But- there were so many moments I could’ve- should’ve- captured. Moments of Daisy, hair whipping past her face on the roof, the lights of Italy glowing behind her like she had angelic wings. Daisy, in my hotel room, in the early morning before she had to sneak away. Tired eyes and an even more exhausted smile as she laughed at something stupid, I’d done in my sleep.

I wanted one. I wanted a picture of her, a picture of us, whatever I could get.

For now, all I had was my memories to help me describe her to my mum. It was easy to do so, considering she was etched into the very nerves in my mind.

“No, I don’t,” I breathed out, “but she’s beautiful. She’s got this-this- God, I can’t even describe her to you. Her hair’s darker, like yours. She’s got these brown eyes. Shorter than me, of course. You can always tell it’s her, though, just by the way she carries herself. She’s got this energy. You’d just have to see it to believe it.”

“She sounds amazing, Ollie,” she sighed distantly then giggled, “Well, if she’s so pretty, where are the pictures? I need to see her! Need to see what this talk is all about.”

I chuckled in response, “I know, I know. I suck.”

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’s difficult, with you on tour and her...what does she do, exactly? Where is she from? Would I know her?”

Here came the long winded, shameful explanation of everything between Daisy and me. The feelings that weren’t feelings, the girl who wasn’t mine, the upset sea tumultuous between us. Her brother. Sam.

I tried my best, “Well, she’s working towards her counseling license. So, she goes back to school in the fall. But right now, she’s on tour with us. Her brother works- um...Sam’s her brother. She just wanted to do some traveling before getting tied down for the next few years.”

“Sam? Sam Hatlett? She's his little sister?” There was a bit of shock in her tone now like I imagined there would be. Sam was like a brother to me, and mum knew that. In fact, she loved Sam. She always had.

When she first met him, she’d pulled him under her wing like a mother bird, like she could just feel that he needed her. So, to imagine that I might go after his little sister is rightfully shocking. It was close to home.

“I know, I know. Again, I suck,” I laughed, though I felt so tense. Rubbing my neck didn’t ease the tension in my skin.

“You don't suck, darling. It’s just a precarious situation, I’m sure. How does Sam feel about it all? Was he weird when you first started dating Daisy?”

When I first began to tell my mum about Daisy, I doubted whether or not I wanted to be completely honest. But I easily fell into the comfortability of her warm conversation and realized I could not bend the truth. Not only did she deserve to know it, but she needed to. I knew, too, that she wasn’t going to judge me, tell me I was making a bad decision. It took three times with Fiona for her to begin voicing her opinion.

Above all, I didn't need to jump through any hoops to win her approval. I didn’t have to play a role, fill a part. I was me. And she loved that man.

I realized, subconsciously, that this was how I felt about Daisy, too. Comfortable. Easy.

Loved.

I explained things to my mom, carefully, making sure she knew of the endless boundaries Daisy always ensured we had and the sweet, delicate moments that made everything worth it. I nearly fell into myself, swept up in the reminiscent beauty of it all. God, I missed her, even if it had been only two days since I’d seen her. Her friend Sasha was in town and took up all her time.

I didn’t know what I was expecting my mom to say, so I held my breath after I finished saying, “But, I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just a summer thing or what. We’re both kinda in weird positions, so we’re not too worried about that, I guess. We’re just...having fun, ya know?”

As the insecurity rose up my throat and choked me out, I sighed out the rest of the air I had in me and added, “We’re not, like, in love or anything.”

I hadn’t expected her to laugh, that’s for sure.

But she laughed. My mum giggled, like things were well and truly hilarious, like I had just told her a joke. I waited there in silence, waiting for her to make fun of me for being so stupid as to let this situation occur. Laugh at me for being terrible at love and life. There goes Oliver again, breaking hearts, getting his heart broken. He can’t even be in a stable relationship! Laugh, laugh, laugh.

She said, “You are crazy, Ollie,” but it wasn’t meant in a harsh manner.

It wasn’t condescending, it wasn’t mean. She wasn’t making fun of me. She was...she was laughing because it was funny.

“You are usually so good at going after things. I mean, look at you with your music, darling. I said no, how many times? I insisted you do something, anything else. I never supported you financially. I never...I never supported you. I was the odds you were testing yourself against and looking at you now! I mean,” her voice cracked. A sniffle followed. My muscles eased from the discomfort I felt into something that wanted to reach for her through the phone, hug her.

“I know your father and I didn’t give you the best example for love. I know we weren’t some movie star-couple that everyone always knew would last forever. We fought. We weren’t there for you when we should have been. Your father left you. And then I held all these stupid expectations up to you, to try to make you better. And you! You’re successful!”

“And I give you all the credit for that. You are...my pride and joy, Ollie. My life. I am so proud of you, darling. But it breaks my heart, still, that you have not been able to find happiness. That you must spend so much time repairing what I broke. We cannot blame everybody else- you can...you can blame me, Ollie. I know I am to blame. And that is okay.”

“So, forgive me for laughing, forgive me for calling you crazy and stupid and wild, darling, but- it's right in front of your face, Ollie! She’s right there in front of you. Daisy. Darling, if you’re still questioning what love is, what it’s supposed to feel like...please let me knock some sense into you! You are wasting so much precious time on believing that it can only leave. It doesn’t have to stay for long for it to be important. If she leaves at the end of the summer, you will regret not telling her.”

I didn’t have to ask her what she meant; what she knew I’d regret not saying. I knew it, I knew it as well as I knew Daisy’s face, even more clear in my memory now.

“You can beat around the bush some more if you’d like, or you can carry on with this facade you’re so deeply transfixed by. Darling, I know it’s hard to let the chaos subside, to let the goodness in, but as I am getting older, I am realizing that it is bright. It is...comfortable. It is good. You deserve to have a lifetime of that. Don’t waste any more time, Ollie. Please tell her, please let her tell you. Please just...hold what you have.”

I had borne a hole into the wall, but snapped out of my still position when I felt a tear roll down the side of my nose. “H-how? How do I tell her?”

“However you need to,” she chuckled lightly. “Although, here’s a hint, Ollie: you are in the City of Love. Take advantage.”

I knew our call was ending and didn’t know when we’d get to speak again. So, like she had told, I took advantage of the moment and I held what I had; “Mum, just so you know,” my voice came out as a whisper, a gentle patter of rain on the roof.

“Yes, Ollie?” she whispered, too, like there was a gentle card deck stacked between us. I think maybe there was- I think there was always some sort of tension lingering from the harsh moments we’d beat into each other; the fighting, the leaving, the crying. I don’t think she ever felt like I’d forgiven her, as if I really needed to. She had been growing up, too, after all.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I know, baby,” I felt relieved that there was a smile in her tone, “now, go. You have some more dreams to chase down. And, Ollie?” “Yeah?”

“Get some pictures for me.”

-

I was lucky that, the next day, everyone was busy with their own plans on opposite sides of the city. So Daisy and I were able to spend some time together, outside of this drywall prison. I was a pretty good listener, too, and remembered all the spots Daisy had gushed about seeing in the little time we’d had together these past few weeks. I was being given the perfect setup to do what I needed to do: we were going to be alone, in the most romantic city on planet Earth. I could finally tell her how I felt.

Of course, so much of me shook with anxiety. What if- she didn’t feel the same way? She didn’t want to risk it? She didn’t want to commit to someone this close to school? Let alone someone who lived across the world from her? These weren't my only fears. There were so many revolving around my career that I could’ve drowned beneath their weight.

Yet, each time I looked at her, I was anchored to her shoes. I couldn’t drift out to sea. I was grounded. Though my fears about how she would react sank, it took another amount of effort to get the words out.

I could’ve done it right away, gotten it out there, cleared the air, so we could enjoy each other even more. That would’ve been the best way: I would've gotten answers, started the day out on the right foot. But, when we got out onto the streets, I was swept up in the busy buzz of the crowds. It was loud in the cafe we grabbed breakfast at, loud on the sidewalks, overly crowded by the river. We finally found a place to sit, breakfast sandwiches and drinks in hand. Though there were still throngs of people all around us. So what good was the City of Love when it was full of ignorant tourists?

The anxiety of what I wanted to do was making me feel grumpy. I shut down a little bit, unable to really engage in much conversation, let alone tell her how I felt. I think it just looked like exhaustion to Daisy, so she didn’t really notice. I did- I was hyperaware of every short sentence, every avoided gaze. All of these people are going to be standing here when I tell her. They’re going to watch her reject me and they’re going to know. They're going to know I’m not good enough. She’s going to walk away from me, leave me stranded in the park, alone with my own rejection and denial. I’m not good enough I’m not good enough.

I thought about what my therapist would tell me, ways to snap myself out of this maladaptive pattern of behavior. My brain lies, she always said. It makes things up, creates false realities based off things others have said to me, or moments of true insecurity rooted in no sense of truth.

Daisy would want me, even if I wasn’t good enough. That was the one assurance I could tell myself to shake off the weary thoughts.

And if she didn’t- well, I don’t think thinking about that was going to help me very much. So, when we got back into the hustle and bustle, shopping around the city, visiting the sights, I opened myself back up.

I didn't know if I’d ever find the confidence. I was on the precipice again, after lunch, when I began spewing cheesy pet names as a sublimation for the words I needed to say. It shocked her at first, hearing such sweet things coming from me. And that stung a little. Was I that monstrous towards her that simple affections made her brows shoot up? Was I that bad? I repeated them once, twice, just so she really knew I meant it.

The day went on and on and I cowered in on myself even more. There were plenty more ample moments, but I just kept letting the clock tick down. I knew we were running out of precious time. If I didn’t tell her now, we would go straight back to secret moments in a hotel room, balancing on a tightrope, pretending like the moment the leaves changed color, we wouldn't be losing each other. I just knew Daisy wanted that about as much as I did.

Just when I was giving up hope, I found my moment, finally. Just after we had stopped to view the Eiffel Tower, some street side scam artist grabbed some pictures of us and was trying to convince me to spend $200 on the copies. At first, I brushed it off, until I caught a small peak at the images on his camera. Before he could spout another line, I was giving him $100. He gave me three photos.

Where my words may fail, these pictures couldn’t. You wouldn’t have to know Daisy and I personally to well and truly and see how infatuated we were with each other. I wasn’t even worried anymore that she wouldn’t want me. I was worried she wouldn’t want the risk, the jump, the caution of a fall.

These would be to convince her to leap. These had to be.

I stopped us outside the hotel, knowing if once we stepped inside, our memories might as well be cleared of the day's events. We would be going back to normalcy, to the real world. Our friends would be waiting there, we would allow the gap between us to grow. I would swallow my words and choke on them.

“I love you,” I pictured myself saying. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you in London, you in Paris, you at home. I love you from the hotel rooms we’ve indented to the streets we’ve wandered. I love you in the plane, on the bus, in every inch of this world.”

But it just wouldn’t come out.

I tried to encourage myself by thinking of who I was just a year ago. By thinking of how I was a year ago, the person I was dating, the situation I was caught up in. Fiona, the endless hours of fighting, of begging. Crying, screaming, the blood sport we played. Hunter and prey, me the victim and yet the one wielding the sword. I thought of Daisy when I first met her. The scent of her in my nostrils, like a clue that I was to hunt for as long as I could run. Of her in my teeth, when I first caught up to her incessant running. The satisfaction I felt, how disgusting that was. How horrible it was that I loved the taste of her blood on my lips.

And how much better I could breathe knowing that I had let go, that I had put my claws away and instead threaded a needle to stitch her skin close. How beautful that was- the beast retracting, the mask falling away. A true creature coming to light, renewed and willing.

Tears welled in my eyes. The words were there, finally, waiting just atop my tongue. She was leaning closer, clutching my hand, clutching those photos like a rosary, like she would sacrifice herself for me. I would, too. I would I would I would I would.

I think I hesitated a moment too soon, or I think she could tell what was happening. I think tha- that, I think that she was running again.

I think she wanted me to chase her or to stop, or she was placing traps in the woods, waiting for the wolf with a bow in arrow.

Because she was pulling away. And our friends were calling our names.

I didn’t have time to think, wrapped up in the swell of the arrival of our friends.

But I felt the death of the moment. It was heavy. It was rotten.

Later, I sat alone in my dressing room before the show, the photo I had kept between my fingers. I swear I could hear her breath, echoing from inside the paper frame of us. Swear I could feel her hands on my arms, grasping as though the wind would take us away from each other. Her lips on my cold ones, warm and fueling like a kindled fire.

I wondered if she threw the photos away. If she stared at them, with resentment. If she wanted to burn them.

Yet, I could’ve lived and died in that moment if I had to. If I was never able to tell her how I really felt about her, I’d be content to waste away, hanging on her lips like a vine, rotting from indecision and cowardice.

Eventually, Sam poked his head in to let me know it was time to go on. I flinched when he first spoke. It drew me back to reality in harsh, cold lighting. I drew the photo from my face, met his eye, and nodded.

I was lucky he didn’t ask any questions about my reserved response, though I knew he was aware that I was getting into character as this vessel. Part of me wished he had asked, though, if only to have someone to share the darkness with again, if even for just a second. And maybe outing Daisy and I to Sam would force me to tell her everything. Force some sort of decision to fall from the loitering hammer that hung above us.

Sam left. I set the photo down on the counter, not even thinking straight enough to put it away somewhere. Then, I hung the mask on my face, edges of my eyes darkened, just like my mind.

Part of me wished I didn’t even have to perform tonight. Every time I put on this disguise, I was reminded of those dark parts of me, the parts of me that were too much like this creature the costume made into. When I’d first come up with the character, I felt so strongly that I was just like Vessel- nothing but a pit of black, music transporting through me like some god had planted it there. I hadn’t been aware of my very real feelings. I just sat there, in that emptiness.

Things were different now.

Maybe I just needed a break from it all, from the costumes and the concerts and Daisy. Well, not Daisy. Not her. Just...everything involving her.

But never her. I just wanted her always, everywhere.

I didn’t get to have that, though, the break nor Daisy.

In fact, all I got was a slap in the face. When I went on stage, I spotted Daisy in the audience. For a split second, there was a lift in my heart, a fire in my bones. She was here. She hadn’t pulled away- she wanted me. She wanted me.

Then, as the lights flickered, I noticed the look of guilt on her face and the hand around her waist, She was here...with someone else.

I felt myself retracting, cocooning, not for growth, not for birth into something good, something with fluttering wings...but into that moth. Into that darkness.

Into that vessel.

In my fury, I laid claim to Daisy in all the wrong ways. I held her by the throat and let her dangle from my lips, reminded her how desparate she was for me, reminded her just how much she relied on my game. It had never been and never would be our game. I was the villain. I was the hunter.

She was my prey.

I was losing hope for my own reconciliation, for my own change. Maybe I would just always be detached, dark, monstrous. Maybe I would never be able to commit, to give in, to be someone’s something.

Maybe I was just this vessel, and maybe this vessel was just me.

Maybe I was never good enough for Daisy, but just enough to satisfy her furious need for that bad. And that was enough for me.

-

Things got worse when Fiona started blowing up my phone.

I wasn’t sure how she had gotten my number. I had changed it back in March, when I’d ended- really ended- things with her. And, with my career, it wasn’t like I’d just handed my number out to any person on the street. I had, maybe, ten contacts on my phone.

Daisy was one of the few I responded to.

But, somehow, someway, Fiona had gotten hold of my number and began blowing my phone up with messages. I blocked her the minute I noticed, after a show when I had time to get on my phone. Then, a few days later, she started messaging from a different number.

They were innocent claims- she kept saying I had left things at her flat and needed to come pick them up. But I knew her better than that. She was trying to use this to weasel back into my head, my heart. She’d convince me to come pick everything up and then, when I was there, she’d start crying. Start saying how much she loved and needed me. She’d convince her into her bed, and we’d start spiraling down into that same old waltz we both knew too well.

After I blocked this contact, I guess she evolved. She started using an unknown number, so I couldn’t even block the contact. I called my manager immediately and told him I needed to get a new phone number. Apparently, all the stores around us were closed for a few days, which just so happened to be my fucking luck. But he promised to get something for as soon as possible.

In the meantime, I just had to ignore her.

So, I booked a last-minute therapy appointment.

I glossed over everything with my doctor, telling myself that things with Daisy were hopeless. She obviously thought me to be disposable. I mean, I had watched how quickly she’d pulled away, how quickly she found another empty face in the crowd.

I didn’t want to admit that shameful situation to my doctor. I didn’t want her to know I’d let myself fall again.

Instead, we talked about Fiona, about the temptress knocking on my door. My doctor kept reminding me to, “Stay strong. Know your worth.”

Easy words for someone in a healthy, happy marriage.

All it would take was one more wrong look from Daisy and one wrong text from Fiona, and I’d end up back off the cliff.

So, I clung to the guys. Daisy had been...not so distant but detached. Cautious. She was taking the lead, so I followed. We still hung out, still fucked like we had been doing. Still had these meaningful, deep conversations that made me wonder, over and over, what the fuck was going through her head. But honestly, I now spent some of that extra time with Max, Cy, Adam, or Sam. We were due to begin working on the next album and I had plenty of ideas floating around in my head.

It was peaceful, quaint. Something I’d missed. Maybe I wouldn’t be ready to start dating again if something like this caused me so much stress.

Adam was texting me now, wondering if I wanted to hang out sometime this morning, talk about the album. I told him I’d let him know what time, considering Daisy was in my bed. And Fiona was blowing my phone up like fucking crazy.

The whole situation threw me off. She wasn’t really concerned about it, but made numerous, passive jokes about me having a secret girlfriend. I don’t know if it was because she really, truly wanted me to be exclusive to her, or if it was just something to do with her pride.

Signals were still mixed, even after we’d had a conversation about how committed we were to each other. Part of me wondered if it had just been an act, her agreement to never see anybody else, her admittance that she was, “mine.” If it had just been something brewed from the heat of the moment. But, when I answered the phone, set it back on the nightstand, I swear to God I saw something in her eyes shift, like she had been bothered at the thought of me with someone else.

Or it would be shitty in general if I was seeing someone else.

I weighed telling her, every single, how I felt about her. I don’t know that if I told her I loved her it would change anything. I had all but done so, and she still was unmoving. She still had gone and found that faceless nobody in the crowd.

Today, I felt like maybe I should. Tell her.

As soon as she had left, someone knocked on my door. I didn’t think it was Daisy, considering Sam would be waking up soon and she needed to get back into bed. When I looked through the peephole, Adam was there, staring over his shoulder sort of strangely.

“Hey, dude,” I started as I opened the door, then turned to make my way over to the bed where my book bag was. I reached in for my notebook, continuing, “so, I’ve got a few good ideas rattling around-” probably a few too many about Daisy, “that I wanna show ya.”

He slowly entered the room, shutting the door softly behind him, “Yeah, uh...” he approached me sort of hesitantly, distant confusion in his pupils, “I think we...should talk about something first.” He didn’t seem too sure of himself and the words he was saying were cautious. So, my tone slowed, hardened “What-what’s up?”

He finally met my eye and I felt like a sword had been shoved down my throat, “I just talked to Daisy...out in the hallway.”

I set my book bag down, hands having been frozen around the straps like someone cursed me into the stoic, icy position. All I could think to say was, “Oh.”

Adam nodded half-heartedly, “Yeah. Oh. I... don’t know what to say, really. I knew you guys had been...like, it was obvious. To me and I think Max, at least. Sam is kinda clueless and, he and Ronnie are totally sleeping with each other.”

Well, that was obvious. So obvious that I could have snorted, but I was too focused on the wild realization that everyone basically knew. All of that sneaking around, trying to be secretive- well, it didn’t fucking matter. And it didn’t seem like it really mattered that much.

“Are you gonna, like, scold me or something?’ I sat on the edge of my bed, running a wary hand through my hair.

“No, I’m gonna tell you that you’re fucking stupid.”

“What?” I looked up from the ground, shock widening my eyes.

Adam finally softened his expression and chortled, though it was short before he was in on me again, “You’re stupid, Ollie. I don’t think you’re doing it on purpose. I think you’re just...Fiona fucked you up. And I’ve watched you slowly start to heal over these past few months. Daisy has everything to do with that. And...she fucking loves you, dude. She thinks the world of you. And you’ve both, I guess, been dancing this dance with each other, walking around the whole thing. I just told her, like- stop thinking less of yourselves. You both deserve something good. You’re both worthy of each other. So, stop being fucking stupid and just tell her.”

My face was hot. I clenched my hands together, knuckles turning white as all these rampant, loose feelings released in my chest, in my head. “She doesn’t love me.” Adam chuckled again, “That’s a bold fucking statement. She just told me herself how much she adores me.”

“Well, yeah, she likes me, that’s obvious,” I waved him off, “she wouldn’t be sleeping with me if she didn’t. But...I think I’ve made it clear so many times how much I want her. And she, just, doesn’t care. Or she turns away.”

“She’s scared!” Adam exclaimed, making me flinch just slightly. “Sorry,” he spoke quieter, like he had shocked himself with his tone of voice. “She’s scared, Ollie. She’s...she doesn’t know who she is. That’s why she came here. That’s why she pulls away, why she seems unsure.”

“Well, I know that,” I scoffed, “I know her better than anyone. You haven’t seen the way she...how she denies it. I know she denies it. She denies us- me.”

“Okay, tell me,” Adam nearly popped a hip at this, a sassy tone overtaking his authoritative one. “Tell me how she denies, what she says and does that makes you think she doesn’t want you. Tell me that she doesn’t love you.”

I thought, long and hard. I could've mentioned the very recent time when she had been dancing with another guy, at our concert, a prowling look in her eyes. Or, of the time when I was on the brink of telling her how I felt, then she pulled away. Or-

Wait.

Am I fucking stupid?

I’m so fucking stupid. I am the dumbest, stupidest idiotic idiot to have ever existed.

It was all right there, clearing up now like I was wearing new glasses. I had a new perspective- I had an unbiased, outsider’s view of the world I had been suffocating in. And Adam’s view was- a breath of fresh air.

I was so obviously the one turning away from her.

From the beginning, I’d been denying her, us, for fear that she wouldn’t want me that way. For fear that someone would find out, for fear that I might die if she ever looked away from me. And I’ve been covering it up with the excuse that I was broken, or hurting, or-or...worthless.

I knew differently. I’d known it differently for a while now but had been unable to act upon this rationality. I was too emotional, too, in my head. And that made me seem manipulative, and asshole-ish, and- fucking stupid.

Adam watched me carefully, watched me as I processed these past few months. My eyes were narrowed, confused, though they widened as the information unfolded in my mind, as the notches clicked together.

“You’re…right.”

Instead of worrying myself with the evidence that she, too, was afraid, I felt my head flood with memories, as tangent on my skin as the cool air of my hotel room. Memories of her devotion, her promise, her love. Memories of us in the stale morning, sharing stories of her mother and that little apartment back in America. Memories of us on the roof, atop the world, atop the feeling, a private sanctuary where even just the flash of her eyes should have told me everything that I needed to know. I was going to tell her I felt the same. I was going to pull her up to the roof, one of our most sacred secrets, and pour everything out onto the barren concrete between us. And I knew she would say that she loved me, too.

It was delicate and I would have to handle it as such. Any sudden movement, and we’d be falling apart, all over again.

But, then Max was bombarding my hotel room, spewing some nonsense about Daisy and Ronnie getting tattoos. He was dragging us to Sam’s hotel room. I was practicing the lines in my head, over and over, a prayer.

Daisy was looking at me with these doe-innocent eyes, like she, too, was praying to some old god. Altering herself for a breath that he may resurrect what was dying between us even now.

I found more words, new words- lyrics, pummeling my skull in wondrous discovery. It was right there- everything was- My phone wouldn’t fucking stop ringing and I thought that I might explode into atoms. I ignored the call, watching as Daisy’s face fell each and every time that it did. She well and truly thought that I was seeing someone else.

Enough was enough.

I took a step towards her, fully intent on putting a rest to the strangeness and awakening what was already there. But, then my phone rang again.

And Sam began making some joke about Fiona calling me, a knowing, devious smirk on his features. He didn’t know- how could he know? I couldn’t be upset with him, but I wanted to strangle him into the carpet.

But I couldn’t focus on that anger for too long-

Because Daisy was leaving like we both always left, one too many times, in one too many silent glares of this something that we just may never get right.

The delicate threads of us bent and snapped.

[goodday-goodmorn]

Back on this account: Prefacing this that this work was wrote in like a day and like most of my things- i was too lazy to edit lol. The concept form todays work was injected into my brain by good old @auspicioustidings, check em out- they got some cool concepts and fics. (Particularly Firewatch- chefs kiss to that series), lots of soft, dark, kidnap-y, COD content 👍

Without further ado i present my impulsive thoughts on a page:

——————

“Committed to the Bit.”

words: 4.7k

Summary: You’re at an utterly boring halloween party, about to leave when some scottish man dressed as a solider comes slinking into the bathroom and really goes ham with his whole ‘This place is dangerous, you aren’t supposed to be here- we gotta get you to safety’ act. Weird pick-up line approach but hey it fucking works. He’s just charming enough for you to play along with his bit. Because it is just a bit… right?

This party was kinda dull. Which really was a shame considering how high your expectations were. From what your friend said- it was supposed to be an immersive experience. The hosts were apparently old collage buddies with your friend who were halloween fanatics.

You friend has absolutely hyped them up, talking all about how when they threw parties they got into them and would always play up whatever dynamic they were going for with their costumes. Even to a level of mild public humiliation.

She once recounted the story of how one year, when dressed as a pair of vampires, they full on acted as though they were melting when someone brought a side of garlic breadsticks with the pizza. Fully committed to the bit it seems.

Because of the hosts being so dedicated to their act, of course it wasn’t uncommon for guests to act in a similar manner. Even those who didn’t have a running gag for the night were overall relaxed and had a good time being apart of the fun. It was a non-judgmental zone, filled with pretty decor and open people.

So of course, after hearing all about the welcoming and fucking amazing vibes of these parties- you had agreed to meet up with your friend at one.

Normally, you weren’t really one for parties, especially halloween ones because it was typically full of judgey, horny, strangers who would consider you weird- and you’d have to small talk and the songs almost always sucked because of course they couldn’t play actual halloween songs even if it killed them.

But after many reassurances from your friend, including videos and photos she had graciously provided you- you went to one.

To say you were disappointed was an understatement.

The costumes were amazing- high quality and expensive, hell the place was fucking stunning, all decked out in halloween gear and dark lighting. Even the building itself seemed perfect for this sort of thing- winding corridors, random locked rooms, ominous men in suits. Oh and don’t get you started on the snack table, shit was heavenly even if you were the only one touching it. The aesthetics of the party were great, But…

The vibes were way off. There was no rambunctious fun laughter and people grooving on the dance floor. Everyone seemed oddly reserved. Committed to their bits for sure, but well… there wasn’t much ah, variety to everyone’s act.

They all shared a similar vibe of like- domineering power. Which was definitely pretty fucking hot when it came to some people, (looking at you fancy vanpire lady), but it got boring after a while.

Safe to say your attempts at socializing were pretty shot. And what’s even worse, your friend? Yeah she didn’t even show up.

Tragic truly. You would call her to see if she made it here yet, but your phone was dead- and talking to any of the other party goers was a song and dance you didn’t wanna attempt again.

So here you are, in the bathroom, sitting by one of the sinks and charging your phone.

How lame.

You sigh, standing up to check yourself out in the mirror. At least your costume is fun, it’s a reference that only really you and you friend would get, but still, it made you happy to wear. It was a royal outfit, you looked like nobility, nice and fancy. Perhaps a barron, or maybe a princess, or a king- really it was up for anyone's interpretation. You fix up the head accessory, then fuss with your hair just to have something to do.

Maybe you should just leave, you were getting pretty bored of everything.

And it’s at that moment, as you’re sinking down to the bathroom floor to grab your charger that the most interesting thing of tonight bursts through the door.

You look at him, blinking once then twice. He does the same.

Eye candy.

That’s the first thought that comes to mind. Without an ounce of shame you let your eyes rack over his form, fitted in some sort of military outfit, tactical gear and even a prop gun. He makes it look damn good.

And then you stop admiring the hunk of prime meat in front of you because starring is rude. (Even if he is fucking amazingly charmingly rugged and god damn what you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through that mohawk of his and just tug-)

“That’s a good fucking costume.”

He pauses, looking at you with something confused and a bit bemused. And like an idiot you just can’t keep your mouth shut and blurt out more shit.

“Did ya have to bust through the door though? I mean like- don’t get me wrong it was cool as shit- really adds to the character here, big, hot, ah… military? guy.”

You wince, you’re making a fool of yourself. Luckily the man doesn't seem to mind.

(Johnny takes one look at you, your bag in a sink, your phone charging in the bathroom outlet, your clearly partly homemade costume that shows way more care than any of the other people in this joint and easily figures out-)

“L.T, Found a civvie.”

He mumbles into a- oh shit he’s got an earpiece and everything. Now that is cool. You tell him as such.

“Okay that is so fucking cool. Dude does that thing actually work? Man. How long did it even take for you to get this whole costume?”

He studies you with an odd look for a moment. You wonder if there’s actually anyone talking to him in that earpiece. Must be with the way he pauses. Slowly, he speaks; gentle.

“Not a costume lass. We ought to get you outta here, it's gonna be a shitshow soon.”

You blink. And then, you smile.

“Rightttt, not a costume. I getcha.”

“Not joking bonnie. This place is dangerous, filled with snakes. How did a wee thing like you even get in here?”

You smile, a bit pleased to banter with the first person who isn't doing the same old same old, ‘i know more than you, ooo im so big and powerful and scary’ act.

“Took a carriage ride and promised my roommate I'd be back by midnight.”

He eyes your royal esc outfit, not cinderella by any means but it still makes him smile slightly. (And boy if that isn't a sight, him looking you up and down and looking at you like that?)

“Cute. Then allow me to be yer escort princess.” He jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom door.

The statement is said with just enough sarcasm to make you bite down a grin. Hes very committed to this whole military operation act. And honestly? You were ready to leave anyway. Not to mention this guy was the only one who’d gotten your interest all night.

You grab your things and stuff them in your bag, slinging it over your shoulder tightly.

“Follow me, and ye gotta be quiet. Cant let anyone see us.”

You are more than willing to go along with his silly bit. And so you give him a clumsy salute, with a good natured smile.

“You got it captain.”

“Sergeant.”

He corrects you with an amused little puff of air. Clearly- hes just as pleased to have someone indulge him as you are to have someone interesting to talk to.

“You got it sergeant.” You repeat back with a graceful little half bow and amused smirk.

He turns back to the door, hands on his gun and before you go out you grab onto his arm.

“Wait!”

He turns to you with a raised eyebrow, eyes sharp, focused: wow hes a really good actor and hes got really pretty fucking eyes-

“Lassie?”

Oh yeah you can't get lost in his eyes just yet.

“Can I have a gun? For safety and all that- totally.”

“Hen… i don't think-”

“please sergeant? I promise I won't break it or anything! I just wanna get more into character ya know? pretty please Sir…?

…

(Johnny is not a good man. And fuck when he hears you call him by his rank, sir, asking so sweetly- your hands clasped in front of you- looking at him with a sheepish grin and pleading eyes. He wants to give you a damn bazooka if it means you keep talking sweet to him. Ghost is in his ear, telling him he better not bloody dare.)

(So of course…)

“You keep that safety on boonie. Hold it like this. If you gotta use it, don't be shooting or you’ll blow yer eye out. You toss the bloody thing in the direction of whatever it is you’re tryna hit- or you hand it to me. Is that clear?”

You nod vehemently, assuring him with little, yep’s and sure’s, and got it-’s. He raises a brow, mostly cause hes not sure if you’re actually taking this seriously. You take it for something else entirely though and then quickly say-

“Yes sir. Understood.”

(...Johnny is both damn disappointed hes on a mission, and greatful as fuck, because the only thing he wants to do is push you up against that wall, sneak his hands down your silly little costume and tease you until you’re a squirming mess. Asking you if you understand how hard hes gonna fuck you and hear your breath hitch as you answer back with a wanton “Yes sir”—)

“Sergeant…?”

You stare at the fellow and his intense gaze, wondering if you took it too far. Hes committed to his bit sure, but you didn't mean to overstep and make him feel like he had to give you a gun. Clearly they were expensive props, detailed and metallic and heavy.

Instead of speaking to you, he speaks to his earpiece, “just a precaution L.T, what if her majesty gets cornered? Little lass don't have a lick of combat training.”

You -far to ready to add to this stupid little bit- chime in,

“Yeah, they only teach you fencing and the waltz where i'm from.”

Johnny grins, “Com'on L.T”

(As much as Ghost hates to admit it- Johnny is right. And so be begrudgingly relents. It seems everyone is amused by how utterly oblivious you are because Gaz spares a laugh and a cheeky comment after Ghost's gruff voice.)

“Soooo… what's the verdict Sergeant? Did your uh… LT? That's lieutenant right-? Does he approve?”

In response, Soap carefully positions a gun in your hand, telling you with an edge to keep your fingers away from the trigger. (Safety is on of course, Johnnys not an idiot all the time.) You nod, holding onto the gun and feeling so cool.

Like that the two of you are off, sneaking around the winding corridors and hiding.

Honestly? This is the most fun you’ve had since you got here. Its all you can do to not bounce on your heels when you follow Soap around.

He's just so into this, that you can't help but be sucked in. Speaking in low tones to his ear peice, making sure you stick close, talking about positions and other military jargon that goes over your head. Oh and he does it all with this charming smile, like the situation is serious yes- but like he's still making sure you’re having fun. Trying to keep you comfortable. The energy is tense but in a good way. Electric even.

You find yourself holding your breath whenever you hide behind a corner, or when he tugs you to him and holds you still- god it's just so thrilling. Maybe because you’ve had a boring night, and cause he's charming and fun in all the right ways- but you’re having a blast.

Even when things seem to get even more tense.

You and Soap are currently nestled away in a little nook, a back corridor, a dead end. Soap curses, speaking into his earpiece. You can hear footsteps, someones coming. And if they see you and Soap- you'll surely be compromised.

(Which means your little game will likely come to an end. Most of the party people here are judgmental, ergo they probably won't appreciate your little roleplay. Its in this moment that you decide- fuck it, you dont want this to end.)

“Sergeant!” You whisper harshly, tugging off your fancy coat and draping it around him, “I’ve got a plan- trust me.”

He looks at you, mildly conflicted, he's about to say something but the footsteps are getting closer and you really need a cover story for why you’re lurking in a dark corner away from the party. You can only think of one reason two people would sneak away at a party.

Sue you for getting too into this silly game of pretend, but adrenaline spikes and next thing you know; you’re kissing him.

Rough and messy, needy. You let out your best wanton muffled moan. His eyes are wide, and for a moment you spiral, realizing what you’ve just done. Sure you were playing pretend and he was committed to the bit but you just kissed him for fucks sake- sexually harsssed him!

Oh god hes gonna hate you and you just ruined all that fun banter and any shot at ever speaking to the only decent person you’ve met all night—

He’s kissing back.

With sudden haste he pulls you close, kissing you back with a ferocity that short circuits your brain for a moment. His knee slots in between your legs, entangling you two, and then there's a soft thud as his back hits the wall.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Your heart races, a slurry of adrenaline, of elation because he was playing along with your silly cover story, of something hot and molten because he was running his hands along your outfit desperately.

Amidst the heat of it all, the grinding of his knee between your legs- you don't even notice the fact that the footsteps stopped. Johnny does though. He breaks the kiss with a purposeful loud noise, when he sees your dazed and confused expression however- he quickly aims for your neck before you can say a word and accidently give away the clever cover story you thought of.

You gasp, the noise does wonders. He can hear whoevers about to round the corner shifting about, obviously realizing what's going on and debating if they should check to be sure or spare their eyes of the sight.

So of course, Johnny helps them decide by laying it on thick.

“Fuck atta girl hen, wanna hear you fall apart f’ me.”

He presses you against his knee, nibbling at your skin to make your breath stutter. Thankfully, you catch his words and seem to get at least to some level what he's doing.

So of course, because god damn it- you’re in the thick of this silly military operation act now- you’ve gotta commit. You moan out the worst thing you can think of to make someone go away. Which is of course—

“Daddy!”

(Johnny can hear Gaz fucking roaring with laughter over coms. It takes everything in himself not to laugh then and there. Luckily, having a pretty little thing pressed against his knee and trembling provides a good distraction. Still, he can't repress the grin.)

“Yeah? Need something kitten?” He captures your lips again, a quick kiss this time, just to leave you breathless for your next remark.

“Y-Your c-” Oh my fucking god you dont know if you’re struggling to speak because you’re trying your damndest not to laugh, or because you are painfully terribly aroused at due to his kisses and husky voice. Thank god he intervenes.

“Whats that kitty? Yer gonna have to speak up. Lemme hear that sweet voice of yours.”

He guides you across his knee, you tangle your hand in his hair, tugging that stupid mohawk close to kiss him again.

When you quickly pull away, you rush out the words, failing to hide the look of pure hysterical amusement on your face- luckily the rush of words is mistaken for neediness and not because you are seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“Your cock-”

He captured your laughter in another kiss, groaning to hide the sound of your stifled snickers.

Finally, after what seems like ages and yet too little time- he hears Ghost in his ear giving him the all clear. Not without clear amusement.

Johny backs off, panting heavily and listening. He hears nothing but empty air. Quietly he whispers,

“They’re gone.”

You pant as well, trying your best to keep your hysterical little giggles quiet. Johnny is right there with you, like fucking schoolgirls- the two of you giggle for a moment.

Ah but you should probably apologize.

“H-Hey im sorry by the way- for kissing you out of the blue like that, i didn't know if you’d be comfortable with it but uh- i kinda got invested in the whole-”

You wave a hand about as he backs off you, pulling his knee away from your heat between your legs.

“-‘Don't get caught’, thing. Sorry if i um- took it too far and make you uncomfortable…”

(Johnny looks down at you, pretty little oblivious thing, looking all sheepish and nervous as if there wasn’t the high potential you just saved both his and your asses with your quick thinking.)

“All good lassie. Good quick thinking.”

(As much as he’d love to tease you more about it- or even tell you just how much he enjoyed kissing you until you were breathless- he’s still on a mission, and you need to keep moving.)

(So for now, he settles for a hair ruffle and a wink. You smile all the same.)

The pair of you continue, and you are starting to wonder where you’re going. This ain’t the way you came in- though, you suppose coming in via the main entrance would defeat the point of the game. Which was of course: to sneak you out undetected. Walking through the hall of party-goers probably wouldn’t be the best call.

Still, it's odd when you find yourself stopping at a room. It appears to be locked, a passcode and everything. This doesn’t seem to be an issue though.

(“Intel says they left the hard drive here. Code is 269344041.” Johnny listens to Ghosts voice, inputting the code easily. He ignores the confused look you end him in favor of mumbling-)

“a’m in.”

You blink as he talks to his earpiece. Carefully and quietly as you enter the room, you ask,

“Um… sergeant? What are we doing in here?”

“Looking for a package hen.”

(“Should be in a small red box.” Ghost relays.)

“-Little red box. Help me look?”

You nod like the helpful little thing you are and begin to search the room. It’s a storage unit of sorts. Bunch of random shit, you even spot a cool ass box of skeleton bones. That you show to your newfound companion.

He grimaces and gently sets the box down away from your hands.

“Let’s not touch anything else alright lassie?”

It’s framed as a question but really it’s an order. You just shrug, and then remember your line was supposed to be, ‘yes sir.’

“Yes sir.”

The search doesn’t take long after that, a few minutes max before you spot a little red box high up on a shelf. All the things around it are collecting dust, but the dull red colored cardboard seems to be free of it. Placed there recently it seems.

Maybe this whole immersive thing was planned out, and maybe it was pure luck you got roped into it. Everything was awfully elaborate after all. With him knowing the code and stuff.

“Sergeant i think i found it.”

He’s on you in and instant,

“Where?”

You point up the shelf. “That it?”

He carefully grabs it, opens it up and shuts it before you can get a good look. Looked kinda like a flash drive? A flash drive inside a plastic baggie.

“That’s what we’re looking for alright. Good work lassie. Ye might as well be a recruit at this point.”

He’s joking it seems, so you smile back in turn.

“Lived a bit too cushiony of a life for military work i’m afraid.” You gesture once more to your royal outfit. “But i’ll consider the offer sergeant.”

He takes you by the arm, tucking the box into his vest and leading you to the door.

“Glad to hear it princess.”

After that, it’s more sneaking about, more little bits of banter whenever you can, and listening to him speak into his earpiece. It’s dreadfully fun, the most fun you’ve had all night and honestly? At any party ever.

Finally- Finally, you seem to make your goal as you feel open air on your skin. That took forever to get out, with how massive the place was, but by god it was fun sneaking around like a super spy with…

Oh. You come to the sudden realization that you don’t actually know his name. That and- you never gave him your name either.

Well, this is where you leave so…

“Hey i just realized i never got your name.”

He turns to you for a brief moment, his hands on your arm now, tugging you along away from the building so that the bouncers at the front won’t see you. The two of you stop a little ways away.

“Soap. Or Johnny if you’d prefer.”

He says it so simply, with such an easy smile.

“And you princess?”

You say your own back, and it sounds so nice on his tongue. So right.

“Um- if you wouldn’t mind-“ You’re fishing in your bag now for your barely charged phone, wanting to get his number because he seems like a stand up dude and-

Soap touches his earpiece, “Package and civilians secure L.T. Good to go.” He says it quiet enough you don’t hear it, too busy looking for your phone.

(“Roger. Gaz move in.”)

“-could i maybe get your number? After i find my phone, of course. it’s just uh, well i had a lot of fun. Truth be told the night was pretty shit before you found me so if it’s okay with y-“

Your eyes widen when you see behind Soap, several Military troops storming the place, all of them holding what look to be- very real guns.

“What the fu-?”

You start, dropping your phone in a shock and completely shattering the poor device against the pavement.

Johnny can’t seem to bite down his grin.

Slowly, and yet all too fast, everything clicks as soon as you hear gunshots.

At a snails pace your head turns towards Johnny. Soap. The sergeant. The real sergeant.

“I did tell ya it wasn’t a costume hen.”

You were such a fucking idiot.

——————

Awkwardly you sit in your chair, taken in for interrogation. Less that and more for protocol considering everyone agreed you didn’t know jack shit.

Apparently, you went to the wrong party and somehow ended up at a terrorist gathering, which would explain the weird vibes of all the guests. And the super big and confusing building. And the many locked doors. And the—

The more you thought about it, the more stupid you felt so at some point in the hours of being on this stupid military base, you stopped.

To your utter horror and humiliation: Soap was a real sergeant. On a real mission. And he gave you a real ass fucking gun. And you had kissed him and oh god he had his knee between your fucking legs- you called him daddy.

Physically unable to handle the shame and embarrassment, you make a noise similar to that of a dying cat and bury your face in your hands.

The person ‘interrogating’ you, (a nice man that everyone called Gaz), just laughed. At the very least your misery was amusing.

“I am- so, so so fucking sorry, oh my god i’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it love. It helped to keep you calm. Better than dealing with panicking eh?”

You nodded because he made sense. It didn’t mean you were happy about it- but it did make sense. Soap tried to tell you after all. Honestly it was probably for the best you thought it was all a joke. Who knows what you would have done if you knew it was for real, probably panicked and gotten both yourself and him killed.

Gaz pats your head, an amused but sympathetic smile on his face.

(God fucking damn it, were all sergeants just naturally this fucking charming??? …You don’t have a thing for military guys do you?)

When the captain of this whole thing walks in, John Price; with a smile like that of a damn koala bear and air of authority- you decide that, yeah. Maybe you do have a thing for military types.

Go figure.

“You're free to go love.”

You sigh with relief, mostly because you don’t physically think you can handle anymore embarrassment. Your face is starting to hurt from all the cringing you’ve been doing. How are you ever gonna live this down?

“Afraid your phones broken though. Do you know the way home?”

No. Obviously not. You were taken here via military truck with the other soldiers. Frankly you could be in a different country right now and you wouldn’t know because you passed out at some point from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

(Price of course, knows this. He just wants to see you squirm a little longer. Is it wrong? Yeah. But he’ll be damned if you aren’t the most fun thing to mess with.)

“Um no- sir.” You tack on the title quickly, unsure exactly what to call him.

“Alright. I’ll have one of my men escort you home.”

As long as it’s anyone but Johnny you should be able to survive a car ri-

“Soap.”

Fuck.

“Take my car and escort the little lady back home.”

…You just had to think it, didn't you?

(Price knows he’s cruel for messing with you. Mean and terrible really. But the face you make when he calls Soap into the room? Where you look like you go through every stage of grief before landing on depression in .5 seconds?)

(Priceless.)

——————

The car ride is just as excruciating as you thought it would be. Even worse- Soaps a good guy. Charming and fun, sweet even. He jokes and teases you but tries his damnest to make the car ride as comfortable as possible.

Hell he even offers to stop someplace and buy you something for the road. And offer you not let would refuse; but you were at the base for hours, and it’s like 2 AM and you are exhausted and hungry and embarrassed.

So the two of you get some takeout, and eat in Prices car. You would be worried about eating in the car, but Soap makes you comfortable, assuring you the captain would probably be more upset if he let you go home on an empty stomach.

The rest of the drive is cozy after that. He pulls laughter out of you, and embarrassed groans but it’s all in good fun.

By the time you get home, you’re most definitely a little unsteady on your feet just due to how tired you are. He helps you out of the car, and even walks you to your door.

Before he leaves, you awkwardly debate giving him your number. Just so you could buy him drinks or something later down the line to make up for your utter stupidity today- but then you remember your totaled phone.

Damn.

And then, a god seemingly hears your prays because he’s slipping you a sheet of paper.

Drowsily you blink down at it to find a king number string. A phone number.

When you snap your eyes back up to him, he’s grinning.

“You wanted it right lass? Give me a call sometime.”

And then, he’s winking and walking away. Just like that.

…huh. Maybe you should go to parties more often.

[swayziiwriter]

Different | Rodrygo Goes

summary: the fallout of a harsh breakup with a fcbarcelona player drives you into the arms of a Real Madrid star.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

The atmosphere was different, everything was so different. Rodrygo was different, much different than Jules. The breakup between you and the Barcelona player had been messy it was hard on you, much harder for you than him. Evident when Rodrigo had been the one to show you the multiple videos of him all over another girl, making out at some random club his teammates had dragged him too.

"He brought her back to his place y/n. Now, you're a smart girl, so I can only hope you can put two and two together" Rodrygo said nonchalantly. It had only been 2 weeks. It had felt like your wounds had been ripped back open all over again, you began to lose all proper sense. But he was there. Hot, needy, and all upon you.

Rodrygo was cocky, and a Madrid player. Both things you hated the most in a man. But in the moments he had offered a dance, a ride back to his place, you couldn't resist. You needed a distraction, a way to hurt Jules like he had done to you. And this was your chance. The ride back to his penthouse was a blur, the only moments really sticking with you were the way his lips felt against yours when you finally reached the inside of his home.

A trail of both your clothing was displayed all over his penthouse, he carried you in his arms never letting go of your lips. You told yourself that this was a distraction, that you truly hated him, and what you were about to do. But that lie was slowly unraveling as Rodrygo hovered over you, dipping his face into your body kissing down to where you needed him most.

Every touch of his lips had you squirming, his hand traveled up your waist in order to hold you down as he attached his lips to your clit leaving light kisses. "Don't be a tease" you practically begged. He didn't wait any longer latching his tongue onto your clit, sucking hard.

"Rodrygo" was all you could moan, the way his name fell of your lips had him turning into a madman, desperate to take you. You reached your first climax within minutes, your body shuddering with pleasure. Rodrygo connected his lips with yours once again, taking you in a heated frenzy. "mhm" you left his lips, "Don't think this changes anything, I still hate this" you said. Rodrygo only shrugged his shoulders, "if that was true then you wouldn't have been so desperate to cum all over my mouth."

You were lost for words, unsure what would set him off or make him want to fuck you already. Your eyes traveled down, his cock was sprung up, he was long and thick. Dabs of precum spread on his thigh, a surge of confidence erupted through your body as you took him into your hand pumping him slowly. He let out a soft moan as you pumped him faster, spitting into your hand before going back to your pace. "You gotta stop, or-or I'll cum" he admitted quietly.

It was your turn to mock him now, taking great pleasure in taking shots at his ego. You stopped at his demand, leaving him sighing softly struggling to keep his composure. You laughed at this, finding his flushed complexion amusing. Rodrygo recovered quickly, having your hands pinned above your head as he thrusted his cock into you at once.

“You bastard, fuck" you said painfully, he only smirked enjoying the way your face twisted between pain and pleasure. "You can take it, so shut up and take it" he said before slipping almost all the way out before sliding back in harshly. Your body jolted forward moans and cry of his name spewing out before you had a chance to take them back.

He chuckled at the way you became putty in his hands, your body at his mercy. He was drilling into you relentlessly, marking your body with love bites. You returned the favour with deep scratches all over his shoulders and back, the sound of skin slapping together a melody created for just the two of you.

"Always fucking talking, don't have much to say when my cock is fucking you this hard huh?" he spat. "The only thing you're good for is this" you shot back, "a fuck" you were lying, and he knew it. "If you hate me so much, why is my dick in your pussy, huh?" he groaned, taking your lips into his before you could respond. The way he starched you out had your whole body convulsing, "your so tight, fuck" he moaned, bringing his face down to leave open mouthed kisses all over your neck.

Your body curved into his as he reached you g-spot, your legs shaking. "Mhm, so big. Fuck your so big" you cried out, the familiar knot in your stomach forming as you brought your sweaty bodies closer. "Does it feel good?" he said softly, bringing his hand to your clit and circling it. "So-so good yes" you moaned, giving into his body. "Let go for me, show me how good I take you" he groaned feeling close to his release. You went over the edge at his demand, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked through your high. Rodrygo pulled out, pumping himself until he spilled his warm seed all over your body.

You only moaned at this, enjoying the way he brought his lips back to yours, connecting them in a long, deep kiss.

[ninebluehearts]

flirty whiskey hopelessly in love with a shy reader

AWwwWWWw, okay bb

Sorry this took so long babes-

Also, I'm soo using the quote in this-

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

You sat at the bar as you watched your friends dance with random men, nursing a blue Hawaiian. Now, most people would be lonely sitting by themselves while their friends had fun without them, but you? You loved it.

People watching was one of your favorite hobbies. Seeing people all dressed up and dancing, having the time of their lives after a long day made you really happy. It was almost like watching a live show.

And your favorite character of the night was sitting in the corner, sipping on what seemed to be a whiskey on ice. You've been watching him since you got here, and you were honestly shocked he hadn't noticed your staring yet.

"Hey!" Your friend said as she hugged you; though it was more of her draping her body on top of yours than anything.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm tired. And I wanted to see you!" She sat on the seat next to you, asking the bartender for another shot of tequila.

You nodded, taking another sip from your drink. You glanced back at the corner of the room where the man had been sitting, noticing his disappearance.

You were honestly disappointed. Maybe in another lifetime you would've asked him out, or at the very least asked him for his name, but sadly, that would never happen in this one.

"My god, you have got to be the prettiest woman I've ever seen." A man said from behind you, a deep Southern accent evident in his tone.

You assumed he was talking to your friend, honestly used to it at this point.

"What's a handsome man like you doing here?" Your friend said, twisting her hair around her finger as she looked up at him, batting her eyelashes.

The man cleared his throat. "Respectfully ma'am, I wasn't talking to you."

You glanced behind you, making direct eye contact with the man from the corner. Shit-

You quickly turned your head back, staring down at your drink.

"Ugh, whatever, I've gotta piss anyway." Your friend said with a sigh, slightly slurring her words.

"I thought you wanted to go home?" You grabbed her hand, looking at her with panic in your eyes. Please don't leave me alone right now.

"Umm, no?" Your friend tugged her arm away, storming off towards the bathrooms, obviously offended.

"This seat taken?" The man asked, gesturing to the newly available seat.

You silently shook your head, keeping your eyes down.

"I'm Agent Whiskey, but you can call me Jack."

Agent? You wondered which agency he worked for. There had to be a million in Texas.

You responded with a simple nod.

Whiskey sighed, leaning in a bit closer. "Don't be shy, sugar. I saw you starin'."

Your eyes snapped up to look at him; so he had noticed?

Whiskey huffed out a laugh. "What? You thought I wouldn't notice a pretty girl starin' at me like that all night?"

"I'd hoped not." You mumbled, picking at a hang nail on your thumb.

Whiskey stood up, resting his arms on the bar as he leaned in close, his mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear. "Listen here baby, how would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I've got a six pack on ice and my roomies out all night, so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar."

Chills ran down your spine as blood rushed to your cheeks, your thighs squeezing together. "Excuse me?" You looked up at him, the smirk he had making it hard to maintain eye contact.

"You heard me. So, what'll it be, sugar? I ain't got all night."

"I don't know-"

"Hey now, don't listen to this." He said, gently poking your head. "But listen to this." Whiskey set his hand on your knee, slowly dragging it up your thigh.

You grabbed his hand, not enough to stop it, but enough to make you feel like you were in control. You were conflicted; the logical side of your mind was screaming for you to run away as fast as you could, but your heart?

Your heart was beating a million miles an hour and was practically begging for you to say yes.

"What about my friends? I can't just leave them."

"You didn't see them 'em slip out the door not even five minutes ago?" Whiskey asked, jabbing his thumb behind him towards the door.

"What?" You glanced around the room, your 'friends' nowhere in sight. "What the fuck." You mumbled, throwing back the rest of your drink.

"So?" Whiskey asked, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You looked up at him, a beautiful shade of crimson painted on your cheeks. Fuck it.

You sighed. "Okay."

[xoxo-go-piss-girl]

In the middle

Stan x Kenny x reader

NSFW, threesome, mildly rough

You want to hook up with your ex, so you ask your boyfriend.

Go listen to the song in the middle by Dodie, that’s what I based this off of!!

Grinning to yourself as you knew you were about to make a huge mistake, but it felt fine. Maybe it was the drinks, or the fact that your roommate was making out with a random guy next to you, but you texted your boyfriend, Stan.

Y/N: so, how mad would you be if I said we should both fuck my ex?

Shoving your phone back into your pocket, you push your way to the bar to get yet another drink. Sweaty bodies everywhere, some club remix of an Usher song blared over the speakers. After a couple of minutes of gripping onto the sticky counter, you were able to yell your order. While you were waiting, you felt your phone buzz.

Stan: depends, if I get to pick maybe

Rolling your eyes and breathing out a chuckle, you think as you hand the bartender your card, pay and grab your drink.

Y/N: fine, but just make sure they aren’t gay or dating someone LOL

Y/N: want his number when you pick or do I need to pull it together

You grin a little as you sip your drink and dance, waiting patiently but being hyper aware of every time your phone goes off for a response. For a Friday night you were feeling quite adventurous, and you had quite the list of exes for him to choose from.

Stan: so basically I can pick any of them except Craig

Y/N: yeah basically, might need to fact check on some but whoever, I think best shot is Kenny but ik you guys are friends

Stan: Kenny

Y/N: ….you sure? I don’t want things to be weird, I think he’s here rn want me to get him?

Stan: yes. Omw.

Almost as if on cue you look up and there’s your ex, Kenny, trying to get some girls to buy him a drink. That’s when you walk over and just grab his arm. Pulling his head down to you mouth, you yell, “What do you want I’ll get it.”

“Bud light, what’s up?” He yells back, to which you make a face.

“Ew if I’m getting you a beer I’m getting you a good one, how broke do you think I am?” You joke as you shrug, holding out your card to get the bartenders attention again. You end up ordering him what he asked for, moving his hands to your hips as you wait for it.

Once you get his drink you hand it to him, and turn facing him and putting your arms around his neck. He was confused but wasn’t pushing you off, knowing how you were when you were drunk.

“Did you break up with Stan or something?” He asks and you shake your head, “No, actually speaking of, wanna come home with us?”

This seemed to really peak his interest, and all he says is, “as in like fuck? Like both of you? At the same time? What do the two of us even have in common other than the same friend group?”

You just give this shit eating grin and say, “your taste in women, obviously, plus he knows blondes have more fun, pretty boy. So yes or no?”

He seems to consider it a little more, and just ends up pressing his lips onto yours, pulling you closer. Running his hands through your hair you sigh into the kiss, his lips tasted like cheap beer and lime. You pull away just for a minute to get out a “so yes?”

He just grins down at you and mumbles, “what do you think?”

You grin up at him, and pull him back in, this time getting a little more aggressive with the kiss, biting his bottom lip and trailing down his neck, biting at it. After what felt like forever, and Kenny’s hands everywhere they shouldn’t be in public, you felt your phone buzz.

Stan: here

You grab Kenny’s hand and lead him out, dragging him through the crowd going out into the night air and stumbling to your boyfriend’s car. Opening the back door, you push the tall blonde in, close the door and then get into the passenger seat.

“Hey babyyyy” you sing out, kissing Stan on the cheek with a grin, of course Stan ends up pulling you in for an actual kiss, making you smile.

“Oh shit I gotta tell people you got me-“ you giggle out as you text the group you came with that Stan had picked you up, and you were safe.

The drive home was as steamy as it could get, of course there were expectations so no one got hurt by the end of the night, but at this point you realized those two boys wanted you beyond dead.

“Anything I’m not allowed to do?” Kenny more directs towards Stan as you lean your head on him, to which he shakes his head, “You know her, you know me, let’s not make this a one and done thing.” Stan replies as he puts the car in park.

You grin, feeling yourself start to sober up but in the best way where lust just starts to take over. You didn’t even think you’d make it inside from how this was starting. Looking up from your phone to find the two boys making out messily, hands in each others hair. To even things out you start to bite at Stan’s neck, being sure to leave a few marks, and you start to palm him through the sweatpants he had on.

“Fuck, we gotta go now-“ Stan groans out looking at you, and you just nod, opening the car door suddenly to be pulled into Kenny again, kissing him.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he starts walking you up to Stans apartment, which both of you knew pretty well. You grip onto him tightly as Stan unlocks the door, walking in first as you get off Kenny and kick it shut.

“I told you stop dressing so slutty for the clubs babe you’re gonna keep bringing random men home…” Stan mumbles with a grin as he starts getting your top off, Kenny unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down.

“He’s right, baby, you’re not supposed to be fucking me anymore; remember?” He mumbles as he kisses down your neck, starting to bite at your shoulders and grab at your chest.

You just smile lazily and just say, “Kenny’s not a random man he’s clean I promise, you seem to like kissing him anyways…” you smile as you push their heads together, making them start to kiss again, Kenny pressed against your back and Stan your front.

You knew you’d be brainless by the end of this, but god you couldn’t help it, you were so excited. Getting on your knees, you pull down Stan’s pants and underwear and start to get to work. You start by gently kissing at his tip, using some spit when you wrap your lips around him. Before you knew it his hands were holding your head in place as he face fucked you, tears picking at your eyes. When he was satisfied, he turned your head to Kenny, who didn’t let you have much of a break and pushed himself into your mouth. Stan held your hair back and coaxed, “what a good girl, this is what you wanted right? Two cocks at once? One just isn’t enough for my baby hm?”

You were already so fuzzy brained and still had your panties and bra on. When Kenny finally stopped for a minute, drool was practically down your neck and you look up. Your makeup was already so messed up, and you just whine, “I worked so hard on my makeup and you messed it up….”

Kenny just smirks at you as he pulls you up, “trust me it looks so much better now, doesn’t it?” He looks to Stan, who just stares and nods, pulling you into him.

“So much better, baby, I’ll help you fix it before we continue do you want that?”

Of course you knew there was no point but something about the idea of even messier makeup turned you on even more, so you just nodded lazily and dug the light pink lipstick and black eyeliner out of your purse.

Sitting you on the counter, Stan got to work on the lipstick, “I bet this will go on better if I kiss it on her, what do you think, Ken?” He says with a smirk, the blonde just nods as he starts to put more eyeliner on, being sure to put plenty on so it ran later.

“Oh absolutely, but we better both kiss it on to make sure it get all the way on” he says as he puts his arms around Stan, kissing his cheek.

So, that’s what they did, each boy placed the light pink lipstick on, and pulled you in, kissing you. By the end of each makeout session, your lipstick was smeared everywhere, your bra was off and your hair was beyond messed up.

“What a pretty girl, pretty girls don’t walk anywhere let me carry you…” Stan says as he picks you up, kissing you as he carries you to his room, Kenny following in suit. Gently placing you on the bed, he goes to his bedside table and gets out lube, stroking himself with it and handing it to Kenny.

Of course the blonde knew he didn’t need it for what he was about to do to your poor pussy.

“Aw you’re so messy, let me fix that…” he sings out as he gets on his knees and starts to eat you out like he would never get to taste you again.

Of course you came not one, not two but three times, you didn’t even realize your head was on Stan’s chest as he gently worked your hand to his cock. You were so brain dead at this point, you could even think as you gently stroked and got out the words, “my mouth”

Stan just smirks at Kenny, and he then gently says, “you need to ask nicely, what do you say if you want to get face fucked princess?”

You tried so hard to get the words out but your brain was complete putty. You just just putty in the boys hands at this point but you say, “face fuck?” And look innocently at Stan, who looks at you expectantly as if to keep going, “please? I’ll be good, I’ve been good please face fuck me…” you beg as he just looks at you and gives you a sloppy kiss, “whatever my baby wants, open…” he says as he lines himself up and pushes himself into your mouth.

With Kenny still eating you out and Stan in your mouth you came again, drool starting to leak down your neck, your eyeliner running and lipstick smudged. When you could feel your legs shaking, Kenny finally stopped, leaving you melting into the mattress.

“She’s just as amazing as I remember, want to taste?” Kenny says into Stan’s neck, which you look up to them making out, and Stan humming out a ‘mmm’. Neither of them to be tiring out, you were going to die, that would be it. They wanted to kill you. You should’ve known better than to ask your boyfriend, who was already a freak, to add your ex, who was crazier than your boyfriend in bed. Pushing your hair out of your face Stan just looks down at you, finally pulling out of your mouth, “You thought you’d be able to do it hm? You’re already gone, stop thinking pretty just take it, you don’t need to think.”

You just nod, your eyes completely glazed over as you look up at the two boy, Stan gently moving to your hands and knees, “you want my cock?” He asks gently as you just look at Kenny, and just keep nodding, as if trying to get the blonde to speak for you, but he just says, “so cute, you need to use your words baby, he doesn’t understand that.”

You want to cry out of frustration, you couldn’t think of the words, you kept trying to move closer to Stan but you could tell he wouldn’t until you used your words.

Kenny could tell, and just said, “you can do it baby, just say yes, remember?” He gently caresses your cheek and you nod, eventually saying “yes, please?” Looking at Kenny with doe eyes as you grab onto him.

The blonde just nods at Stan as if to say, ‘go ahead’ “good girl! He’s big do you want to hold my hand?” You just nod and lean into him as Stan pushes himself into you, it has this painful pleasure, and you squeeze Kenny’s hand.

“F-fuck-“ Stan groans out as he starts to move, faster and faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as Kenny kisses you messily and sweetly.

“Oh good girl, you’re doing so good, okay are you ready? Open.” He say to you as you open your mouth, both boys fucking you, you could feel them getting close and you were too. Suddenly you felt a salty sweet shot go down your throat and warm cum paint your insides. The three of you collapse in an ecstatic heap on the bed, electricity filling the air.

Being sandwiched between both sticky and sweaty boys you were so tired, but yet so content.

-aftercare-

You wanted to just sleep, you were exhausted, but despite the two boys being exhausted they sat you up, and helped you walk to the bathroom.

“You need to go pee and clean up, we’ll help you okay?” Stan says gently as he turns the shower on.

You sleepily protest, but your legs were too tired stand on your own. Kenny lets you lean on him and Stan gets your makeup remover out, taking off all the smudged makeup.

“Close your eyes I’m taking off your makeup.” Stan says and you just sleepily close them, cuddling into Kenny as Stan removes all the makeup from your face.

Both boys help stand you up and you get into the shower.

They clean you up and dry you off, of course they cleaned themselves up as well. Everyone getting into sleeping clothes, Kenny and Stan just in their boxers, you in a tshirt and panties, you all comfortably get into bed and go to sleep.

[freesia-writes]

Hello 👋 💌💌💌

This week has been super draining and I'm in need of some good hurt/comfort/angst with my man's cross 😪😪

(Ofc you don't have to pay attention to this considering the theme)

I was wondering if u can write a one shot in which fem! reader is assaulted sexually ( NOT r*pe) but maybe creep gets to like groping area and scarily close to 'more' and so cross notices reader struggling with creep and goes full on rage on the creep, like I'm talking its gotta take more than just wreaker to get crosses fists away from the guys face. And maybe when the bastard is delt with and cross has came to his senses he comforts reader 👉👈

(I don't know if you've written one like this before . So if you're uncomfortable with the suggestion then please just ignore this 🖤🖤)

Hi anon! I'm sorry to hear it's been a draining week. I've been in a Crosshair vortex so you had good timing. ;) I really appreciate such a kind and considerate ask! I hope I nailed it for ya. <3 Crosshair divider by @djarrex

Crosshair x Fem!Reader - SFW - 2.4k words - triggers for sexual assault up to grabbing/neck kissing, violence of a fistfight, emotional repercussions of it all

It was a busy night at 79s, and you were thrilled to see not only a variety of battalions on shore leave but also Clone Force 99. You’d been bartending for almost a year now and had proven yourself proficient enough to manage a shift with the service droids, although tonight you were silently wishing for some extra help as it was a particularly raucous atmosphere in the neon-light-filled club. Your head was spinning already with the endless stream of drink orders and random thoughts being yelled in your direction, but you took a deep breath and focused on the rote muscle memory of preparing the drinks. 

Face after face, trooper after trooper. All alike and yet not even close. You forced a laugh at a cheesy joke, shook your head at an invitation to dance, and handed over a whole line of smoking shot glasses to a pilot with mischief in his eyes. The music shifted to the beginning of a new song, which mercifully was quieter in its intro, and you had a blessed moment to breathe and hear more than just the deafening bass vibrating in your chest as well as your ears. It was at that moment that you saw Crosshair leaning over the bar, catching your eye with his sharp gaze. Your heart did a little flip; you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why this man had you in such a chokehold, but something about the push and pull, the revealing and concealing, the banter and depth had you feeling a certain kind of way about him. 

“Glad to see you boys are back,” you said, resting on your elbows to bring yourself close enough to hear his beautiful voice of cinnamon and amber. “What will it be tonight?”

“Have you forgotten already?” Crosshair drawled, slowly rolling the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. His delivery was deadpan but the glimmer in his rich brown eyes said otherwise.

“I would never!” you gasped in mock indignation, relishing the microscopic curl of the corner of his lips. “But I never know if you’ve found some fancy new creation on your wild and wonderful adventures.”

“Eh. Seems like the best stuff is right here at home,” he returned, tilting his head to allow the vague yet undeniable implication simmer between you. You wanted to linger there all evening, but you had already used up all the time you’d get -- a whole horde of thirsty patrons were yelling at you from across the counter and the service droids were getting backed up.

“The usual, coming right up,” you said, begrudgingly returning to your work. 

The night seemed to go by painstakingly slowly, and you found yourself scanning the crowd to see where Clone Force 99 had posted up for the night. They were usually upstairs, in some quiet corner (as quiet as could be found in the raucous club), out of sight and out of the way. The company of their own squad seemed to be sufficient for them, and they rarely interacted with the other troopers. When they did, it didn’t seem to go well. Just when you thought you were getting a bit of a reprieve, with most of the groups being served and satiated for now, the one clone face you always hated to see appeared at the bar. 

You didn’t know his name, or his CT number, so you always just called him Pervert. He was grizzled and scarred from battle, and apparently that gave him a confidence that he didn’t truly deserve. His relentlessness in hitting on unsuspecting victims was rivaled only by his tendency to get into fisticuffs with little to no provocation. You wanted to feel sorry for him, but you were so frequently the object of his pursuit despite repeated, clear insistence that you weren’t interested, that your sympathy had worn thin. 

He was on another level tonight. You’d already seen a few individuals storm out, frustrated by his raunchy humor and persistent touches, and he’d had a few more drinks than usual. Things were slowing down a bit, as the night wore down to closing time, and you had some gaps between orders to begin restocking and cleaning in preparation for the sweet freedom at the end of your shift. Leaving the service droids to fulfill the occasional drink order that would trickle in, you headed to the utility closet to organize the supplies in anticipation of a quick and efficient clean-up once everyone had left. 

The light was broken again, and you squinted to make out the shapes of the tools you needed, illuminated only by the reflection of the endless neon flashes from the main room. You’d fetched the broom and were searching for the mop when suddenly the light was blocked by a looming shadow in the doorway. Turning around quickly, you were surprised, and immediately fearful, to see Pervert slumped against the frame. 

“Get out of here, Perv. You know you’re not supposed to be back here,” you yelled, absolutely not in the mood for his shenanigans. There was something menacing about his posture though, and your voice quavered despite the feigned bravado in your words. 

“You know you’ve been toying with me long enough,” he slurred, shifting to stand on wobbly feet.

“I’m not toying and you know it. I’m not interested. Now go before I call--”

“Call who, you little tease? There’s no one here that would even miss you,” he said, voice growing louder as he took a tottering step toward you. Your grip tightened on the broom handle, and you felt the cold grip of fear settle more tightly around your core. “Girls like you need to be shown a thing or two,” he continued, reaching for you.

“Stop it!” you shrieked, pressing the broom across his chest and shoving with all your might. But he was already leaning fully in your direction, and you weren’t in any position to brace yourself or take a good swing at him. Before you knew it, he had you pressed against the wall, hot breath burning with alcohol as he shoved his mouth against your ear. 

“Come on, you know you’ve only been postponing the ineninivitibble…” he growled, and you were nearly in a panic now. You struggled against him, trying to get any kind of leverage with your knee or arms, but he’d gotten you pinned far too quickly, and began to bury his face in your neck with a hungry sloppiness that made your stomach turn. You opened your mouth to yell again, but a clammy hand covered it immediately, and you felt the panic threaten to overwhelm you. 

But suddenly he flew backward, crashing into the opposite side of the supply closet with arms and legs everywhere. You gasped, relief and shock cascading over you simultaneously as you recognized Crosshair’s frame in the doorway, dark and backlit by the club lights. He said something, but you were falling apart so much that you didn’t even register his words, and Pervert was already scrambling to his feet with an angry roar. 

Crosshair grabbed your hand, pulling you out the door behind him in one swift movement and turning back to face the inebriated clone, but the split second distraction cost him dearly -- Pervert barreled straight at him, head down, crashing into his stomach and tackling him into the hallway. You yelled incoherent nonsense, frozen to the spot and torn between trying to help somehow or running out to get help. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Crosshair though, and you tried to swing a kick at Pervert as his fists flailed around the sniper’s head. 

He somehow caught your leg, twisting it and toppling you to the ground with a pained cry, and was on his feet in an instant. But Crosshair matched his speed, and the two of them were at it immediately. Blows landed with sickening thuds, and there was no semblance of gentlemanly combat but rather an all-out, animalistic mess of knees, fingernails, elbows, punches, and kicks. You felt as though you were going to throw up, whether from the pain radiating from your knee or the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the sight before you. It was hard to tell who had the upper hand -- you yelped as you saw Crosshair take a blow to the face, and when he turned back, eyes flashing with more rage than you’d ever seen, there was blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. 

It felt as though it went on forever, and when you caught the movement of a figure crossing the hallway down at the end, you began screaming as though your life depended on it. It caught his attention, and you thanked the Maker as you heard some shouts in the main room, followed by his reappearance with a few others. They usually didn’t intervene when Pervert was on a tear, though, so you were hoping beyond all desperate hope that they were here to help and not just to watch and cheer. 

They couldn’t even get close.

Crosshair was absolutely feral, wrestling now with Pervert like a predatory animal, snarling audibly as he drove a knee into the clone’s side. He crumpled to the ground and Crosshair was on him in a flash, pummeling him with punches that were as relentless as the sexual advances that Pervert had been dealing out. You couldn’t tell if Pervert was even moving anymore, and you felt the fear start to blur your vision, but the clones grabbed Crosshair by the arms and pulled him away, leaving his opponent in a motionless heap. They had their hands full though, as they were met with growls and squirms as Crosshair sought to free himself from their grasp, still lunging for the figure on the ground. His face was contorted, bright red and sweaty, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from it until another clone approached you, bending down and offering to help you up. 

It took a while for everything to die down. 

Pervert was taken away and some of the local police droids remained behind. Statements and holos were taken, and one of the clone medics gave you a quick bacta injection to hold you over until you could receive proper medical attention. Crosshair had disappeared, and you were leaning over the sink in the refresher, splashing cold water over your face with trembling hands. You did your best to fix your appearance, at least pulling your clothes back where they belonged, then limped out to the main floor. You almost collapsed in relief as you saw that the police droids had cleared the bar out, deeming it to be closed prematurely, and the silence was as deafening as it was welcoming after the whole ordeal. 

There would be no cleanup tonight. You instructed the droids to complete as much of it as they were capable, and collapsed onto a stool to balance the credit register. It was wildly difficult to keep a singular train of thought, and you had to refocus yourself repeatedly, taking twice as long for a usually easy task. A smooth voice over your shoulder startled you into dropping an entire handful of credits, a curse falling from your lips as you whirled to see Crosshair. 

“Sorry,” he said, hands in the air in submission, “I just…”

“Crosshair!” you interrupted, eyes widening at the sight of him. His left eye was swollen and surrounded by black and blue, and the right side of his bottom lip still had a formidable split in it that he had to keep dabbing with a napkin. “Ohh, I’m so sorry. Look at you,” you said, eyes beginning to glisten with tears. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but the mere thought of getting off your stool was too much until you realized you had to pick up all the credits you’d just scattered. With painstaking movement, you shuffled off, moving toward him for a moment as you took in his bruised yet intent face. “I feel so bad,” you murmured. 

“It was worth it,” he answered, eyes narrowing as he continued, “That filthy reg deserved every bit.”

“But you didn’t,” you said softly, mouth curving into a frown. 

The conversation stalled as you bent down to pick up the credits, surprised when he joined you to help. Your eyes met as he handed you a few, and you cupped his hand with intentionality as you took them from him, brushing his red knuckles with your thumb before staggering to your feet with a wince. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, taking a step closer as you leaned backward onto your stool, dropping the credits into a bag and zipping it shut.

“I will be,” you said, moved by his compassion that seemed such a stark contrast to the sharp exterior. You looked at him again, yearning to convey so much but being entirely too shell shocked to put it into words. “Thank you,” you whispered, eyes dropping to your hands, which were folding and unfolding awkwardly in your lap. His fingers lightly grazed the side of your cheek, causing you to flinch disproportionately, and he retracted them quickly.

“Sorry.”

“No, it… normally it would be nice… sorry… I’m kind of a mess right now.” 

“Understandable.”

But the combination of his gaze, his presence, and his bravery cleared some of the fog in your mind like the sun breaking through the clouds on a coastal morning, and you lurched to your feet again, wrapping your arms around him in a sudden hug that made him freeze for a moment. You pulled them tightly yet carefully around his waist, pressing the side of your head against his chest and shoulder to try to express your gratitude. His stiffness slowly gave way to movement, and he rested his own arms awkwardly over your shoulders. 

“Thank you,” you said again, pulling away to meet his gaze but leaving your arms around his waist. You didn’t think you’d want to be touched, but he felt strong and safe, a soothing presence in the face of all that had transpired. “Really,” you emphasized, heart skipping a beat at the flash of softness in his beautiful eyes. 

“It’s alright,” his sybillant voice was honey to your ears.

You had a feeling this wouldn’t be the end of things between you.

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[breedingreading19]

TW: Gunshot wounds and blood

It was late, probably around 1 am, as Emma danced around in her kitchen blaring some random playlist off her phone, wiping off bits of flour and cinnamon into her trash can that she pinned up against the cabinets. Off in her own little world till she heard a knock on her window, after a year and a half of knowing Jason Todd, most would stop jumping at the sound but Emma still jumped dropping the small trash, making puffs of flour coat the bottom of her black yoga pants and a light dusting on the floor.

"Thanks, Jay. Can't text or call first no, you always have to scare the shit out of me" She mumbles under her breath walking up to her bedroom, hearing her dog barking at him but quickly hurrying to the window not seeing him in eyesight. Looking out, seeing Jason all dressed up in his Red Hood get up but sitting stiffly on her fire escape, clutching his shoulder. Unlocking the window, she steps out loudly.

"Jay!" She quietly exclaims, kneeling down to look more closely at him.

"Hey, you’re a sight, mmhm, for sore eyes. Can I get a hand?" He mumbles tensed up in pain.

"Yeah..." She says bending down putting her arm under his attempting to support him up but it takes a moment as they both hear some slight creaking coming up the lower end of the stairs. "C'mon, someone’s coming" She whispers into his ear, before heaving him up onto her body essentially and him nodding his head against her shoulder as he reaches for his pistol on his right hip. Pulling it out and reaching past her shoulder, using it to steady his aim, it failing pretty quickly as her heart rate speeds up and her body begins to shake hearing people being thrown up against the bricks and over the rails, Jason taking a deep breath before pulling the trigger. Emma holds her breath trying to not move.

"Get inside. Em. I’ll be in a minute" He whispers weakly

"No, you need to get that looked at" She replies harshly, "Let’s just go inside if they don't see us they won't know you’re in my apartment"

"Blood trace, babe. I gotta take em out now" He says take a few more blind shots before hearing a masculine voice echoing up the stairs.

"It’s me asshole, stop shooting. They’re taken care of" It yells up. Jason visibly relaxes.

"You followed me?" He called back as the man finally got close enough Emma could turn her head a bit and see a well-built man in a black spandex suit with blue lines running up the arms and legs with a giant bird in the middle of his chest.

"Um.. Hood, you need to get patched up c’mon, your... friend can come in" Emma breaks in feeling more warm blood oozing onto her skin. Jason nods him grunting as he climbs into the window quickly getting licked by the familiar dog. Emma and the new man followed through, Jason flops down onto the bed before ripping his glove off and stuffing his finger into the bullet wound. Biting his lip watching the man look around the room, as Emma ushered the dog into the bathroom before closing the door as she quickly grabbed the first aide kit she put together months ago, It was more or less a gunshot wound kit stuffed into an old first aide box. Running out of the room, closing the door in her poor puppies’ face, seeing Jason already taken his helmet off and it laying beside him on the bed and his shirt and cracked plating being thrown on the floor.

“I told you not to follow me” He says obviously annoyed at the man as Emma sat down beside him and sat out all her items. Pouring anti septic onto some gauze.

“Yeah, how would that have turned out for you?” He replies equally annoyed

“Before the two of you start fussing” Emma exclaims pulling out gloves and tweezers looking at the both of them. “How many bullets and what kind?”

“1, standard 9mm, my chest piece just got shattered by…. OH fuck! No warning?!” He yells as she begins patting the outside wound with the wet gauze as it burns away the bacteria already trying to set in.

“You saw me bring the gauze to your chest don’t act like you didn’t” She throws back at him both looking at the man as he starts laughing.

“You must be the nurse? Emma, right?” He asks as Jason winces as Emma brings the tweezers into the hole and pulling out the bullet

“Um yeah, how…?” She asks not looking at him focused on the job in front of her, propped up on her knees beside of him trying to be level with his shoulders her spare hand placed on his chest stabilizing herself.  

“He’s my brother. Alfred told him” Jason explains quickly closing his eyes

“Oh, um Hi. Theres drinks and snacks in the kitchen, uh make yourself at home.” She says unsure quickly turning her eyes to him and then back.

“Thanks, but I won’t stick around long just wanted to make sure he was okay, and also make sure he wasn’t coming back out. Bats said to take the night off, rest”

“No way, fuck you and him! I took this case because of…” Jasons yells but stops and chews on his words looking at Emma now stitching up the hole. “Because of the people involved and the two of you want to kick me off of it because I got shot, I’m finishing it, tonight!”

“No, you’re off the case because it’s done, Bats called the cops to arrest them” He says pointing out the window as loud sirens can be heard around the building and voices echoing inside through the window. Jason lets out a humph before rolling his eyes.

“Whatever, just get out of here Boy wonder”

“I think you mean thank you, but Emma it was nice meeting you. Thank you as well for helping my asshole of a brother.” He says walking to the window again, as she nods her head and waves, wrapping Jason’s shoulder up. “Oh, by the way, Nightwing or Dick Grayson if I ever see you around” He adds before jumping out of window disappearing into the night. Emma’s face contorts for just a moment realizing who this was, Nightwing. While never seeing him in person she knew the name, the connection between him and Batman and all the robins. Emma had known about what had happened in Ethiopia all those years ago, Jokers heinous beatings, Jason’s bitch of a mother, if you could even call her that, but Jason didn’t just have a connection to Bruce Wayne and Wayne Intercorps as a whole but also Batman. She blinked her eyes for a few moments as she turned to close up her supplies, but the thoughts didn’t leave her mind. It had only been a few weeks since she met Pennyworth, and she decided to let most of it go. Jay’s life was complicated from the endless nights of patrol to save the city to the odd amounts of money he seemed to have flowing at the seams to the elephant in the room since the first time they met, as she struggled to take off his several layers of chest protection only to find the autopsy scar littered down his chest. He was nearly passed out from blood loss from a laced bullet wound. Nothing had ever made her think about Jason and the Red Hood being connected though, not on a personal level, not on the level that made Nightwing his brother. ‘Nightwing his brother’, she repeated in her head. Nightwing is Dick Grayson also Bruce Waynes’s son, Nightwing was also rumored to be Batman’s son as well, but that would make Bruce Wayne, Batman. Her eyes blinked once more as her hands betrayed her as she went to put the cap on the peroxide but instead the bottle tipped spilling onto her pants. Taking a deep breath as the cold seeped, finally hitting her pants and hearing Jason’s obvious annoyance as he mumbled something under his breath. She took a deep breath before turning to look back at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay” She mumbles just above a whisper he stops his annoyed commentary as she spoke and a smile barely crossed his face with a hint of the crinkles as the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah… me too… and he’s right, thank you for always being here for me.” He adds in before focusing on her face for a moment and reaching his hand out to cup her cheek. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, um nothing just spilled some peroxide but let me worry about that” she said shifting around to face him, twisting the cap once more before laying it down behind her

“That’s not it” He replies his eyes giving off his disbelief as she shakes her head

“I’m fine really” She replied before leaning in and kissing his cheek and moving her lips over his. Their lips moving against each other, her other hand moving to his good shoulder before moving it down to the little bit of fat the man kept at all right around his midriff, but the second her hand applied any pressure she could feel the hard muscles underneath. Groaning slightly into her mouth his hands made their way to her hips, grasping onto the plush before moving her into his lap, never once breaking the kiss. Hands moving across each other’s bodies as Jason lays back bringing her down with him as his hands begin to slither up her shirt feeling the soft satin bra she bore underneath. A few moments later a muffled husky howl and scratching can be heard from the bathroom as Emma pulls away laughing to herself.

“Cock blocker” Jason fake fusses turning his head to the door. Emma once again shakes her head before getting out of Jason’s lap as he groans a bit, putting his head on the bed.

“Oh, stop being a baby. You need to rest anyway.” She says walking over to the door not bothering to put her shirt back on. Letting the ball of pure fluff and crack energy out of the bathroom as she begins to jump up on Emma.  

“I would have been resting, and sides when did you graduate from medical school?” He chimes in standing up from the bed and walking over to grab some clothes that he had left here over many times patch ups or just nights spent in this bed.

“Haha, remember that the next time you want to know what medicine to take when you have a stuffy nose” She replies with fake laughter watching the dog run over to him and barking at him as she sat patiently beside him. He pulls his fresh shirt onto his body with a few grimaces of pain before turning and rubbing her head as a dog smile spreads across her face. “And you say I spoil her” Emma adds in as she grabs her t-shirt and unclasps her bra before sliding her shirt back on.

“You do but I can’t make it any worse”

“Whatever, if you give them another hour you can have some homemade cinnamon rolls”             

“Yeah, how about some cinnamon rolls and a conversation about my family since you met Dickwad already” Jason says running his arm through his hair. “And Bruce has been bugging me about bringing you around”

“Oh?” She says grabbing the first aide container and walking it back to the bathroom. “So do I pretend I do or don’t know your odd playboy billionaire father is also the terrifying batman or are those card out on the table these days?”

“So that’s why you looked like that? You figured it out from Dick” he says as she walks back into the bedroom.

“Yeah, yeah… I also kind of was kicking myself for not realizing it a week ago” she adds putting her hand on her hip.

“It’s alright, you’re not supposed too. Bruce told me I should tell you but I was waiting for the better time, but Dick ruined that, as he does most things.”

“So cinnamon rolls, more family secrets and eventually I meet your family? Which I know from the news is not small” she says walking over to him and pulling on his shirt a bit as he wraps his arms around her waist pulling her into his chest.

“Not even a bit, but you tell me when your ready and then I’ll talk to everyone about when” She nods her head looking up at him

“Well come on I gotta put them into the oven hot stuff” She pulls away a bit pulling him to the kitchen as he playfully rolls his eyes as they both walk out of the bedroom with the husky in close trails behind.

[justakennyoshi]

HI HI HI sry i disappeared sleep and school eatin my life smh ANYGAY

who's your favorite south park character, what's your favorite hc for them, and what's your favorite canon thing of theirs >:3

also hope ur exams go/went great :D

YIPPEE YOU REPLIED ye i have some things to say (｀▽´)

My favorite south park character is Kenny!! (he appears in 99% of my drawings send help) tho other favs are Butters, Wendy, and Kyle in that order :D As for why Kenny is my favorite tbh sometimes i wonder the same thing ( •̀ - • ) LMAO jk but is kinda dumb why he's my fav ig. For this we have to go back to 9yo me who knew nothing about internet but somehow ended up watching a gameplay of SOT and i gotta be super honest my first crush was princess Kenny srs

🚶🚶🚶 not Kenny, PRINCESS Kenny. And that was my first glance to south park ever, I never had interest in the series until like 2 years ago when I decided to screw the bad opinions and give the series a shot best decision ever honestly, so ye I always liked Kenny www but besides that well I can come up here and analyze the little blond in many aspects!! about how he's one of the nicest guys in town, how of a good brother model role he is to Karen, how all he really cares about are his friends and some boobs (silly lol), about his poverty and how I can relate to some point to that too and all of his character lore about his immortality, how it affects him and the many things I as a fan can think based of that!! I also have a Kenny plushie I happen to bring whenever I go to a trip so even my parents who know nothing about south park know Kenny and are fond of the little guy <3 so yeah he's my fav

Now about hc? ｢( • ﾍ •) I have one stupid hc but is so stupid LMAO so in another post I said I like Luka Megurine from vocaloid and one day i was playing SOT and had a vision:

Hc Kenny is a Luka simp HAHAHAS

Is so stupid bc it fits him so well 😭😭😭bc for even more context Luka fans are kinda known to be... pervert and unhinged (generalizing not everyone is like that ofc just look at me a repulsed ace guy 「(°ヘ°) but yeah. It has no explanation besides combining my 2 favorites things LMAO and this is a level 4 hc so I'm gonna add another hc more sp related which should be mmhmm wow I can't really think in any right now besides the obvious ones

kenny is the most knowledgeable about drinks, drugs and stuff bc he tried em all (and died some times) bc he knows he will always come back

this also applies to piercings and tattoos, smth along the lines of "death hurt more than getting a piercing"

he will still treat Karen like a baby even when she's all grown up

he's in charge of the groceries at home

he secretly loves being babied by his friends and goes along bc he rarely gets that treatment (watch covid especial for reference about how cartman, stan and kyle treat him like their son sometimes)

for example tho is too basic lmao. I have another hc about Kenny being peruvian because I AM PERUVIAN AND I WILL PERUVIANIZE SOUTH PARK AHAHA /lh also bc after watching the peruvian episodes I gen thought Kenny has more of a peruvian vibe than Craig if I'm 100% honest, like I get the Craig peruvian hc and is cool and all but all he did in those 2 episodes was complaining to the main 4 to the point even Kenny (a very chill dude) was mad at him LMAO and by the plot is that he ended up involved, like if Craig went along to them to pretend to be a mexican band (he denied it at the end of the second episode) then he would've be part of a mexican prophecy somehow too so the argument of "craig is peruvian because he was in the profecy!!" is kinda random to me lol. But I love the fanarts and hc!!! This is just a silly thought bc like no way dude we literally have Kenny dancing to peruvian music and I'm telling from my expertise in being peruvian for 19 years that you need to vibe with the music to be one of us trust, like that yelled at me PERUVIAN pluuus being peruvian to the other hispanic countries is smth very mocked on, poverty hella exists here and I dunno I feel Kenny fits being a peruvian guy? Or well having a tiny bit of peruvian dna im fine with that too *baila que linda flor del grupo nectar*

Last question!! My favorite thing about Kenny canonically is definitely how of a good sibling he is, I also like Kyle for this reason but I think is different with Kenny due to how easy it was for him to give up on his family and not care but he does! I wish we get more interactions between the McCormicks smh stares at Kevin

And well that was it :D I hope ya like it also I actually did well in my exams!!! I'm surviving law 💥💥💥

[manwiththemagic]

spn s1 ep4 "Phantom Traveler"

more notes on my rewatch!!

OMG this is the demon episode isn't it? IT IS ISN'T IT? IS IT???

ew an airport. Post 2001 too damn ☹️

"you know what are the odds of dying in a plane crash? 20-1?" BRO. not helping the puking man..

BLACK SMOKE!!

In through the eyes? That got retconned.

WHY WAS SHE NOT MORE FREAKED OUT HE HAD BLACK EYES. chick you are the reason everyone's dead.

HOW DID HE JUST OPEN THAT?? demon strength???

Rip plane

Wait does this mean demons could have done 9/11? wowza...

Early bird Sam!! “good morning sunshine!"

“you get some sleep?” “yeah.” “liar. Cause I was up at 3 and you were watching infomercials” LMAOOOO but also d'awhhhh :((( the nightmares!!

“it's not just her.. It's everything.” THE VISIONS FUCK YES. YES. YESYSYSHSHG

I love the visions plot lines!!

“your never afraid?” “no man, never.” *Sam pull out a knife from under deans pillow.* LMAOOO CLOCK HIS ASS!!

“Thats not fear.” uhhuh...

WAIT THIS IS THE DEANS SCARED OF FLYING EPISODE LMAOOOOO

reminds me of hunter corp Dean who legit has a private jet..

Random guy calls Dean about the plane issue whaaaa

WAIT THIS GUY KNOWS JOHN. HE HAS INFO.

oh gosh. “yeah he was real proud of ya! Talked about you all the time.” “...he did..?” FUCK.

I still I hate john. I HATE EM. always will 😋

“welp we're missing the old man, we get Sam! Even trade” “aha. No. not by a long shot.” THATS RIGHT. CAUSE UR BETTER MF. uhm anyways.. I like this old guy, hope he doesn't end up SAD AND DEPRESSED LIKE ALL THE OTHER OLD GUYS IN THE OAST 3 EPISODES.

Monster porn live on tape? LMAO JKJK!! demon gotta stop moaning tho.

They definitely aren't showing the crash because they don't have the budget, not because it's locked in a warehouse and you don't have clearance..

Wtf is Evp?

LMAO THE FAKE ASS “nOoOooo survIvoRsSss” they did NOT get that mf off the tape.

Dude sees shit, and is now in a ward. Common. Common.

DEAN STOP HARASSING MENTALLY ILL MAN.

sams puppy dog eyes back at it.

Black eyes 😋 OOOGA!!

okay wait why tf is this demon doing this. They don't just “do evil”...

This guy isn't a monster bro..

Wait are they actually going to the wreckage?

SUITS!!!

“you look like a seventh grader at his first dance! ☺️” SAM PLS.

OMG wait they had the budget holy shit

LMAO HELP ME HELP ME “what is that?” “its an E.M.F. reader.” “no I know what an E.M.F. is. Why does it look like a busted up walkman?” “cause that's what I made it out of! ☺️ It's homemade!!” “yea.. I can tell😒” SAM WOAH DON'T KILL EM!! LMAOSKSK

Sulfur on handle!!!

Oh shit actual homeland security is there..

LMAO THESE MFS GET CAUGHT EVERY EPISODE.

Run bitch runnnn!!

This poor pilot.. it wasn't your fault :(((

Oh shit he possessed.

Sulfur!!

Babies first demon.

NO BC WHY IS DEMON BRO DOING THIS.

Everytime.. 40 minutes in.. WTF

and another crash.. fun..

BUT WHY. JUST CAUSE??

“this isn't our normal gig..” how WRONG you are pal..

“this is big.” it's really not.. you fight GOD. by s2 demons are nothing to you. By s4 Sam's fucking one. By s6 Sam's been tortured for 100's of year by an ex-archangel who's basically his ex 🤷. By s13 your son is part ARCHANGEL. sooo...

Rip chuck Lambert— SORRY CHUCK? mbmb..

Nazareth?? Wtf is this demon on?

40 minutes? Wtf biblical numbers..?

Okay they got the flight attendant on the phone.

WHY PLAY ALONG LIKE IT WAS A PRANK. DUDE.

and she hung up.. girl your COOKED!!

Deans plane fear!! LMAOOO.

“your joking right..?" “DO I LOOK LIKE IM JOKING?? Why do you think I drive everywhere SAM??” LMAOSOSO

LMAOO DEAN WAS BORN TO BE A TEEN GIRL. “really..? Ugh... Man..” while rocking back in forth. He's so REAL LMAOSOS

Dean looks like he has PTSD LMAOOO

“your humming Metallica??” “it calm me down.!” LMAOOOO

“Hey! Say it in Latin!” “i know.” “Hey! In latin it's 'cristo'” “i know!!” LMAO I LOVE THEM.

“cristo.” “sorry I didn't..?” “cristo.” “??” “nevermind.”

Sam is honestly way kinder than me. I'd be making FUN of Dean but nah he's just like "no it's OKAYYYY just some turbulence dwdw.."

Dean you are so awkward.. it's def mr smiley

They found em!! It wasn't mr smiley damn..

Awh shucks.

BEAT THAT BITCH UP!! HE TALKED ABOUT JESS.

PLANE DOWN. PLANE DOWN.

DID LIGHTNING JUST STRIKE THEM???

okay all good now.

Nono demons killed jess. It wasn't wrong.

John redirecting calls to dean.. mf come ONNNNNNNN

Sam's peeved, rightfully so omg..

Kinda meh for an important episode.