#him (in his wrapped perspective) thinking it wants to be with curly

[vulnonapix1234]

But also, the idea of it not listening to him.

Like, they are social pack Pokémon and it probably thinks that the crew should be one too.

Even in the pre crash times, its clear that Jimmy doesn't want to be part of the group/sees them as bellow him.

I could also imagine it not treating it right, because of it.

Fucking around with the idea of a Pokemon au for Mouthwashing, and now I'm going on a near 20 minute long mental essay on why I think Jimmy would absolutely have a Mightyena.

[crookedteethed]

MORESAL of praise | e.m.

Pairing: Up-and-coming Musician!Eddie Munson x Girlfriend Musician reader

Warning: 18+ Cursing, Smut (p in v), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Reader is intimidated by Eddie's size, Praise kink, Pet names, cockwarming, Eddie being a tool, barely proofread, reader and Eddie are both in their mid-twenties, From y/n perspective

Word count: 2.7k

Divider cred → @saradika-graphics

There's a squeak to my door that needs fixing, and a water leak somewhere that needs tending.

I asked my tenant to fix it, but he tells me: "This is what you get when you pay $300 a month."

The Luminary, home of musicians trying to live for cheap.

I sit my guitar case on the creaking floors, and kick off my ten-hut boots.

My apartment had been cold. A dull gray atmosphere manifested itself not only due to the cold weather outside but also the poor insulation through my apartment walls.

The door to my room was slightly cracked and I noticed between the lines of static silence were the faint sounds of acoustic strings.

I opened the door. In my room, there was one dim lamp light lit. It shined a yellow hue on my boyfriend, who sat on the edge of my bed. Eddie had been playing his black acoustic guitar--the one he wrote "This machine slays dragons" in white paint on, his notebook he often wrote in laid open next to him, a black ink pen between the margins of the notebook.

He doesn't look up at me when I tell him "Hi."

His concentration was on the nylon strings of his acoustic guitar as he mutters an "Oh, hey." back.

My boyfriend looked beautiful at the moment, inattentive, yet beautiful. The warm yellow tone reflected his pallor skin, strands of his thick curly hair tucked behind his ear, and a brown celluloid guitar pick between his teeth. Somewhat of a Vermeer painting.

I walk over to my dresser.

"Sorry, I'd broken in." Eddie says. "I needed to be somewhere quiet, my roommates wouldn't give me that." The roommates that had also doubled as Eddies bandmates.

"It's okay." I say, while shimming out of my black satin skirt. "I was going to ask if you wanted to come over tonight anyway."

My skirt falls to the floor, it pools around my ankles. Next to come off is my stockings, then my shirt, and lastly my bra.

I catch Eddies eyes lingering on my bareback as I fish for something I can sleep in. My hands pick a shirt that said "Margaritaville" and was four sizes too big.

When I turn back around to Eddie, he's back to strumming a random chord then he writes it down in his notebook.

In the small bathroom that connected to my bedroom, I don't look myself in the mirror when I take off my panties and throw them into the hamper.

Now getting into bed, I crawled over to where Eddie sat, sitting behind him on the weight of my knees.

Eddie had seemed to form some sort of a strumming pattern with his song, but he didn't seem to like the sound of it by the harsh glare he gave his guitar.

"It sounds pretty." I assure him.

He lets out a low mumble that sounds like a "Thank you."

"Thinking about playing it to the guys, play it at our audition at Beacon records, maybe?"

I hum as I slowly walked on my knees, my calloused hands gripping his bare shoulders. "Mmm-hmm," I say as he kept speaking, but I was too busy stroking his hair to fathom anything he was saying.

I lean in closer to his body, enveloping myself in his warmth.

My boyfriend: the thermal.

I bring my lips to his neck, and in one long hard suck, I kiss the flesh. His reaction is what catches me off guard.

"Babe." he turns to me, he stares at me with the same glare he gave his guitar. "I'm almost done." He continued. "Then we can do whatever you want."

The music continues.

My bottom lip start to poke out, and I probably would've started to cry if he was a bit more harsher.

I start to scoot to the head of the bed. "Take as long as you want. I'm going to bed." I tell him.

I get underneath my cold blankets, lay to my side and force myself to sleep (despite not being sleepy).

Suddenly, his strumming stops.

With one eye opened, I peak at him (out of curiosity). I squeeze both my eyes shut when I feel Eddie get up from the bed, his bones cracking in the mitts.

He leans his guitar on the wall, and places his closed notebook on the bedside table.

We accidentally make eye contact when he turns off the lamp light, I squeeze my eyes in a haste, but l feel the smirk on his lips illuminating in the darkness of my room.

Eddie then slips underneath the covers beside me, his clipped nails and rough hands graze the plush of my slender hips. I feel his smirked lips kiss the dip of my shoulder blade.

"I'm trying to sleep." I mumble.

"No you're not." He says, breathing on the nape of my neck.

I feel Eddie's muscular hands turn me over by the shoulders. When we're face to face I get a glimpse of his shadow covered face, alabaster skin darker then normal.

Eddie traces a finger over the line of my jaw and pulled my body tight to his chest. His body heat makes me feel less cold. Eddie brings a warmness to me that spreads from my temples, to my limps and it makes me melt like ice cream on a midsummer day's night.

"You're freezing." he states.

My lips part as his thump soothes the petal skin of my jawline.

"Lemme make you warm. Lemme make up for before, yeah?" He said in that voice I couldn't resist. It's a low, gravelly tone. A tone filled with assurance and leverage.

And though I wanted to roll over and play sleep, I simply couldn't. With sluggish eyes and a parted mouth (due to his thumb playing with my bottom lip) I found myself nodding to Eddie's words.

As Eddie crawls on top of me, I combed my fingers through his thick dark curls. Eddie's the one to close the gap between our mouths.

The kiss begins with the utmost tenderness. It was long enough that I could inhale his breath, feel the warmness of his skin, and tasted the last thing that lingered on his lips (the celluloid guitar pick).

But, with the hunger of a starving man, Eddie deepens the kiss. I responded to him with a low mewl between the gnawing and the suckling.

When I feel Eddie's hand snake to where our cores met, I stopped him.

He hovers over me with concerning eyes, and red-bitten lips.

"Did I do something wron--"

"I want to ride you." I breathlessly say, earning another smirk from him and glint in his eyes.

In a swift motion, Eddie and I switched places, with him now being on the bottom while I was on top. Eddie rests his back on the metallic bars of my headboard. In this position, the moonlight peaking from my curtains had shined on his face, leaving me in the shadows.

I start to adjust myself by bunching the hem of my shirt around my waist; Eddie adjusts himself by lifting his weight to pull down his boxers, and that's when I feel it.

I feel the warmth that radiates from his cock to my wet slit. His tip nearly meshing with my clit.

Eddie's cock had had a slight curved mushroom shape to it with a hefty girth to it as well, with three large straining veins running along the side of it.

His reddening tip spewed drops of clear pre-cum that leaked down from his dick and to my thighs.

I gawked at his cock, with slightly parted lips.

Oh, how I yearned for Eddie to be inside of me all day. During my yearning, Eddie was on top. It occurred to me then that I'd never ridden Eddie before. Eddie is always the one to do the penetrating.

My eyes met with his, a devious look in his deep, earthy brown eyes.

"Sorry." I mutter.

Eddie looks at me with a condescending grin as I lift myself up by my knees. I give a few tugs to his cock, before aligning his length to my entrance.

I feel the supple wetness of my cunt drip down my thighs and onto the puddle of Eddie's pre-cum that resides there, as I inch him closer to me.

It was either the intimidation or excitement in my lower belly that lead me to stop.

"Can you help me?" I mumble.

"What?" Eddie says, cuffing his hand behind his ear. Whatta prick.

"You heard me." I said.

"I believe I didn't sweetheart, you were mumbling."

He knew for a fact he heard me; we were so close to one another that I could listen to the fluids swishing around in his belly. But for the sake of it,

"Can you help me?" I repeat, this time loud and clear.

"Ohh, that's what I thought you said." He decides to play dumb, desperation pulls on my face. "Thought you wanted to ride me, huh?"

"I do, but I'm scared it won't fit." I say.

"It fit all those other times." He rebuttals.

"But all those other times weren't like this." I stare deep into his eyes and poke out my bottom lip. "Please, just help me."

"Oh, don't cry sweets, you know I was gonna help ya, y'know." He tells me. "But first, take off your top fr'me."

I comply, watching him watch me take off my "Margaritaville" shirt and discarding it onto the floor.

Now completely bare, I feel my nipples start to pebble at the cool breeze of my apartment.

Eddie's mouth latches onto my left breast like a moth to a flame. I feel his hand give my right breast a firm squeeze. As his lips and tongue revolved around my sensitive buds, the tips of his curls tickled my chest.

"Eds." I gasp, bringing his head closer to my chest as if I were trying to feed him.

In the next moment, he spilled a few drops of saliva on my other nipple and flicked the newly wet nub, and started to suck on the puffy skin.

"Eds, baby, you're doing so good." I moan. Eddie hums in acknowledgment, concentrating on my left nipple like it was his guitar and notebook.

"But please, Eddie, I need you inside of me; I'm dripping here." I whine.

Eddie slowly detaches himself from my right nipple, a string of saliva connecting his lips from my nub. He looks down at the slickness that coats his and my thighs.

"Shit." he curses. He looks at me with those chocolate brown eyes of his, and a look of flattery on his face. "And I didn't even have to touch that little clit of yours to have you dripping like this."

"Eddie, please!"

"Alright, alright." He says. "By the way, y'know you're beautiful when you're all whiney and struggling on me."

Before I can rebuttal, I see Eddie gripping the thick base of his cock; as he brings his tip to my entrance, I bite on my bottom lip out of pure anticipation.

A faint sigh of relief died on our lips as Eddie melded inside me. I let out a shaky gasp at the sudden stretch. For a brief second, I sit on his cock, taking in his size, taking in his heat.

Involuntary, I clench around his girthy length as a response his cock throbs inside of me. I think if we knew morse code, our private parts could have a flirty conversation without each of us knowing; I giggle at this thought.

Eddie wraps his arms tightly around my waist "You got this mama." He pecks the skin of my collarbone.

With doe eyes I slowly nod my head, before slowly starting to grinding my hips onto his.

"That's it, baby, keep going." Eddie praises, looking up at me with such admiration. I start to quicken my pace, feeling my slick and clit coat his torso.

As Eddie's lips ravishes the dip of my neck, he breaths against my skin: "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now."

"Then do it." I say. "Fuck me."

And with the quick placement of his large hands groping the plush fat of my waist, Eddie starts to slam my body up and down on his cock in a bouncing motion.

I mewl at his relentless thrust. Groaning every time I feel his ridged cock dragging inside of my gummy walls, I whimper when I feel him graze my sweet-spot, only for him to draw himself back and slam right back into me.

The only sounds to fill the air was skin on skin, hard smacks coming from each time our bodies thrashed.

"Fuckin' shit." Eddie groans. "Look at my girl, taking me so well." Butterflies swarm inside of my belly.

I look down to where Eddie and I connected once again, I see the lips of my cunt touch the base of his cock and then back up to his tip. Eddie fingertips graze the meat of my ass, he gives my cheeks a tight squeeze.

My cup runneth over.

My eyes begin to flutter close. "M'close." I murmured against Eddie's lips. I was tottering on the edge of my climax.

Eddie switches from mercilessly slamming me unto his cock to grinding, rubbing me against him. With the palms of his hands splayed across my ass cheeks, he rubs me closer to him in fast, greedy motions.

"Eds, M'close!" I whine.

"Finish f'me, sweets." He says, voice hoarse like he was on the edge of his climax too.

It was the hoarseness in Eddie's voice, the bead of sweat sloping down the side of his face, and then the delicious feeling of his cock finally bumping into my sweet spot.

A plethora of moans escapes my lips. My back arches at the shockwaves of pleasure that ebbs and flows throughout my body. There's a ripple of orgasmic delight all over. My cunt starts clenching and unclenching around Eddie's cock.

Accompanied with the sounds of our skin slapping is the wet slick coming from my spent cunt.

Lazily, I collapsed into Eddie's chest and bury my face in the croak of his neck, giving him quick little pecks on the hot flesh--my body twitching every now and then.

Eddie still fucks into me.

"Almost there, sweets." he elongates. "You're so good to me." He kisses my cheek. "Always taking me so well in that little cunt of yours, always letting me use you, even when you're on top."

You would think Eddie was talking me through my orgasm, but he was talking him through his, I think his own praised turned him on twice as much.

I start to feel Eddie's cock spasm inside of me. I'm too spent to do anything but pull him tighter to me.

He pushes himself all the way in and stills himself. I feel his cock swell up, and in those two seconds of stillness I can feel just how large Eddie really is.

With each spurt of cum, Eddie's cock pulsates. I feel the warmth and pressure of his cum coating my cervix. With each spurt, Eddie lets out low (gravelly) groans.

Eddie kisses my forehead.

I lay on his chest, listening to the fast paced pumping of his heartbeat. My eyelids start to fall and I start to feel that post-coital weariness.

I try to move myself off of Eddie, but my sore and stiff hips and limps makes it hard.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks me as I try to move beside him.

"Eddie, I have to get off of you, we can't stay in this position all night." I say.

"Says who?"

And as I snuggled back into Eddie's lap, his semi-hard cock starting to soften inside my warm cunt, I told Eddie he was right.

Who said we couldn't stay enveloped in each other's warmth for the rest of the night? Two lovers wrapped around one another in a cold bed in the cold Luminary. With no money, dead-end jobs, a guitar in hand, and dreams not only of each other but dreams of making a difference someday.

Eddie didn't need to be famous to make a difference in people's lives when he'd already made a difference in mine, my beautiful boyfriend.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

nightmare

genre: comfort

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: nightmare, mentions of death and fear, pet names, Chan is low key mean for a sec, reader has curly hair, reader has glasses, she/her used, I think that’s all.

synopsis: while recording in the studio, you have a nightmare and chan comforts you. written in third person for easier storytelling from both perspectives.

masterlist

She spent lots of time in this studio, always with her boyfriend and his friends, who were more like brothers to her. They were ‘famous’ or whatever but that was so easy for her to forget sometimes. When hyunjin would come in to record with his hands covered in dried paint, when Changbin would yell at his phone over the current score of the soccer game, when jeongin would drag himself into the booth and sleepily rub at his eyes before absolutely nailing his part, they all just seemed so normal to her. It was always strange to her when they went out for lunch and people would recognize them on the street, screaming their names and asking for pictures. It was those times that felt strange to her, like those screaming fans have no idea what these boys are actually like. Her boys. Ever since the beginning of her relationship with Chan, she had always gotten along well with his ‘kids’ as she liked to call them. But now, after years of being together, they were more like family to her. They were her kids just as much as they were his and she loved them all so very much.

Todays studio session was no different than the others. Felix had just finished recording and she peeked up over the pages of her book to wave and tell him goodbye as he left. She sunk deeper into the couch, returning to her book as Lee Know entered the booth. Things were going well, Minho having no trouble at all with his part. Just then a draft moved through the room, brushing against her skin and giving her goosebumps. She shivered.

“Yeah just do that part one more time and we should be good." Chan said into the mic. Minho nodded and waited for the guide to lead him in. Chan swiveled his chair around to check on her. She had her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs, her hands propping open her book. She was the most beautiful thing in the world to him, her curls falling loosely around her shoulders, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. She pushed them back up with the tips of her fingers before she let out a shiver and hugged herself tighter. She must be cold he thought. He slipped his black hoodie over his head and off his body before tossing it in her direction. It hit her square in the face. She looked up, startled out of her fantasy land. Chan chuckled at her expression. "You’re shivering, baby. Put that on please."

"All done?" Minhos voice came from the booth. Chan turned back around, holding the red button before saying "yeah, sounds great." Minho exited the booth, walking past Han who was on his way in to record his part. With a light slap to Han’s backside, a silly face to Chan, and a gentle wave to her, he made his way out of the studio. She picked Chan’s hoodie up off the floor where it had fallen. She slipped her arms inside and brought the material over her head. It was warm, and smelled like him. The hoodie swallowed her, enough so that she could pull it over her legs as well. She pulled the hood up over her head, and the sleeves fell down over her hands. It felt like a big hug. She felt so cozy and safe, now so warm and surrounded by the scent of her favorite person. She could faintly hear Han singing, and Chan giving a few notes, before her eyes fell closed and her head hit the back of the couch.

—

He had been in front of the mic for what felt like hours, unable to get his part perfect. He was getting frustrated, and needed a break. Han was trying to give Chan direction, but it still wasn’t coming out now they wanted it to. He noticed her sleeping on the couch behind Han, swallowed up in his hoodie. He loved seeing her in his clothes. Even though everyone knew she was his, they had been together for so long, seeing her in his clothes made him feel better, like she was physically marked as his. He hung his headphones over the stand in front of him and exited the booth. He returned to his chair, combing his hands through his hair as he complained to Han. He could hear her moving in her sleep, and making quiet sounds.

"She’s been doing that for a few minutes." Han said. "She even said your name once I think."

Chan turned to admire her, she always looked so cute while she slept. But this time, her face was scrunched up, her eyes as tight as she could get them, her hands balled up in the black material surrounding them. She made a louder noise this time, her head falling to one side. Chan looked at Han "She’s been doing that?" Chan asked, jumping up from his seat.

Han nodded. "Why didn’t you fucking tell me?" Chans words coming out harsher than he intended. "She obviously having a nightmare." He rushed to the couch, kneeling on the floor next to her sleeping form. He reached out and gently took her hand in his. Rubbing softly back and forth across her knuckles he tried to wake her. "Baby? Are you having a bad dream? Wake up, sweetie." He gently shook her shoulders before her eyes flew open, wildly looking around the room. Her scared gaze landed on him and her eyes instantly filled with tears.

"Chan?" She choked out.

"Yeah baby, it’s me. Im here."

She flung herself at him then, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing him so tight. "You’re okay? You’re real?" She said through sobs.

Chan was startled at first, but quickly returned her embrace, rubbing soothing strokes across her back. "Of course I’m real, baby. You were having a nightmare."

She pulled back to look at his face. His heart broke at the sight of her tear stained cheeks, the snot under her nose and the fear still in her eyes. "Channie, it felt so real." She hugged him again.

"I know, baby. It’s okay. It’s over now." He kissed the top of her head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"You- you-" she choked on a sob. "Plane crash- and you-" she couldn’t get it out but Chan could piece it together.

"Did something happen to me in a plane crash?" He asked. She nodded, pulling away to wipe at her nose with the sleeve of his sweater.

"You were a-all on the p-plane and it crashed. Everyone was okay, but you- you were helping seungmin w-with his seatbelt an-and you didn’t have time to p-put yours on and-" her body was still shaking, tears still flowing down her cheeks as she looked at him.

"Oh, princess." Chan said quietly, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. "Im sorry, baby. It’s okay though. Im fine. No crash, yeah?" He smiled at her. She nodded weakly. "Im fine." He told her again, before leaning to the side and gesturing toward Han. "Han’s fine. It was just a dream."

She was slightly embarrassed at the state in which Han was currently seeing her, but he smiled at her reassuringly.

She wiped at her face again with her sleeves. "Just a dream." She repeated.

"We’re done recording for the day, would you like to go home?" Chan asked. She nodded. He helped her stand from the couch and he grabbed her book and his laptop before wrapping his arm around her and heading for the door.

He looked toward Han. "Im going to get her home." He told him. "I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, yeah?" Han nodded, gathering his things. "And, I’m sorry for being mean earlier. I was frustrated with the song and worried about her. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that."

"Talked to him like what?" She spoke up, voice strong now. "What did you say to my Hannie?"

"He yelled at me for not ‘fucking telling him’ you were having a nightmare." Han laughed.

She slapped Chan on his arm, pushing him away. "He didn’t know! Don’t you be mean to him, he’s just a baby."

Chan rolled his eyes. "He’s a full grown man, and I know he had no way of knowing you were having a nightmare. That’s why I’m apologizing. Now come here." He pulled her close again, kissing her forehead. "Such a protective mom, huh?" He said, chuckling.

She grumbled under her breath, leaning into his warm hold on her.

"Really am sorry, Han. Won’t happen again."

Han patted him on the shoulder. "S’okay hyung. But, I’m afraid I have to tell Lee Know."

The color drained from Chan’s face. He stuttered and stumbled over his words. "Don’t- you don’t- I didn’t-"

She and Han just laughed as they shut the lights out and headed for the elevator.

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[brownskinlemon]

Midori Sour Pt.3

pairing: dominic fike x (photographer fem! reader)

word count: 1,531

summary: you attend your friend Omar's pool party. what happens when liquid courage and a certain curly-haired boy combine to change your perspective on LA?

part 1 + part 2

warnings: fluff!, none others that I know of!

author's note: Apologies for the impromptu hiatus, but I wanted to finish this so I can get back into making more!

-

A jumble of conversation down the hall  and the sun peaking through the blinds were the first things to coax you out of your sleep in the morning. You shuffled slightly, settling back into the mattress as you took notice of the warm heavy arm wrapped around your waist. 

The scent of shampoo flooded your nose, a mop of curls flush against your chest. Dominic’s sleeping form begins to stir at your adjustments.

“Where are you going?” Dominic’s voice grumbles out, voice thick with sleep.

“Nowhere. I’m here.” You sigh content, hands making their way up to rake through his curls. In the silence that follows, the events of yesterday flood like a montage across your brain. Your thighs clench at the remembrance of the warmth flooding you as his hands and mouth and body coaxed all you had out of you late into the night. If you focused acutely, you could pinpoint the slight soreness settling its way between your thighs.

Toned arms wrapped impossible closer around you as Dominic shuffled closer into your neck. A warm breath fanned your neck as he attempted to prolong his sleep. 

“Hey.” You rasped out, “I’m up now you have to wake up with me.”

A grumpy groan rumbled in his chest, his face burying impossibly deeper into your neck. A childish huff left his chest before he tilted his head back, barely opening one of his eyes to look at you. You watched in amusement as he obnoxiously stretched, leaning his head on his elbow to stare back at you through his nearly-closed lids.

With the alcohol and weed no longer coursing through you, you got a good look of him sober, and truthfully he was just as, if not more enthralling up close. It struck you once again that the man before you had been completely buried to a hilt inside of you last night, the very first night you had known each other. As the sun swirled his brown eyes into honey, you began to still, wanting to freeze the moment. You didn’t want to think about what was next after you both left this bed, and more importantly, if this meant more to you than it did him.

He’s a rockstar, with women being at an endless supply, and you couldn’t help the slight sting in your chest when considering the vulnerability of last night, even before you had been stripped of your clothes, it could all have been for nothing.

“What are you thinking about?” He rasps softly, snapping you out of your trance.

“Nothing.” You say, eyes fixated on the ceiling.

“Nothing? Wanna try answering that truthfully?” He says, bringing a finger to trace lines around your stomach and up your torso mindlessly.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We saw each other butt ass naked last night, there’s nothing more embarrassing than that. I promise you’ll live. Now tell me. Please?” 

You huffed, frustrated that he was right.

“Um, I was just thinking about last night. What was it to you? I know it’s a stupid question and I’m not expecting you to propose or anything,  I just don’t know how to feel.”

“It’s not stupid.” He reassures, taking his hand to cup your jaw. “Like I said last night, I really, really like you. I don’t hook up with random women anymore you know? It’s just not me. I don’t want you to think it was just like a hookup. It turned out that way, and trust me it was amazing, but I wanna get to know you in other ways too. You feel me?” 

“You read my mind.” You mutter, still avoiding his gaze as you let his words settle over you. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, coaxing your eyes to look back at him again.

“I really want to get to know you too. Being in this bed with you doesn’t feel real, in the best way. I just didn’t wanna get fucked over if this is all you wanted from me.” Your bottom lip came between your teeth as you chewed in thought.

“ I don’t expect you to trust me yet, but I hope you’ll come to eventually. Hm?” You nod in response. “Now that you’ve confessed your undying love to me..wanna get brunch?”

You scoff jokingly. “ Dominic I did not-”

“You want chicken and waffles or not?” His smirk begins to match yours, placing a finger over your mouth. You both break out in laughter, the calm serene morning washes over you a last time before you search for your phone to check the time. It reads “11AM”, under it however is a mass notification of texts and Instagram notifications. Your eyes widen and you shoot up in the bed at the screen.

Dominic jumps up with you, just as thrown off at the sudden panic lacing your features. “What?”

“Look.” You say breathlessly, turning the phone to show him your now open Instagram with 10s of thousands of mentions. 

“Forgot about that.” He narrows his eyes sheepishly.

“Tell me about it.” You saw, swiping the notifications to find different tags of you on fan pages, dms of people you knew and didn’t know wanting the deets, and a flood of request DMs that you were almost sure were laced with a threat or two. You groan, slapping your hand over your face , “God I forgot you were famous.” 

You couldn’t help breathlessly, feeling your heart rate pick up and stress tense you up. 

“Don’t look at that right now okay? Just focus on this, on us, what’s in the here and now.” He grabbed your phone gently, coaxing it face down in your hand. He grabbed both hands, ducking down to catch your downcast eyes in a genuine gaze. “ Be there with me for a bit longer.” You nod silently in response.

Before you can say anything further, he’s sliding off the bed to slip on pajamas and turn on the shower to warm up the water, and returning to help you to your feet. `

“Mmm” You groaned, a pang of soreness between your legs from the movement. You were almost sure you saw a pleased and cocky smirk grace his features slightly before fleeting. Once the water was warm, he coaxed you in gently, joining you after ridding himself of his pants. Your eyes fluttered shut as he rinsed your sore limbs with the warm water, head falling back onto his shoulder with a sigh. His head came to rest on your shoulders, sighing contently as he scrubbed your limbs. After cleaning you both off, he brung you to sit on the edge of the tub, drying you off.

You were now clad in his shirt and shorts, and he wore a similar outfit. You smiled lightly at the curls of his head drenched in water, extra curly and delicate. It emphasized the gentle youthfulness of his features. He grabbed your hand, pulling you along the hallway similarly like the night before, to join everyone else in the living room.

The mumbled conversation gets louder as you both get closer to the living room. Everyone was alive at the bare minimum, the alcohol from yesterday clearly taking its toll. “How’d you sleep lovebirds?” Omar asks bashfully. Dominic takes a seat next to him while you perch on the couch arm next to them.

You both made eye contact before you answered “Fine.” Dominic nodded to your answer.

“It sounded more than fine. ‘Dom, oh, please Oh Dom!’”- He was cut off by your hand rushing to cover his mouth.

“Dude you heard that, how?” Dominic groans, leaning his head back against the couch. 

“Y’all were loud. Quiet for two crossfaded horny dogs. But not quiet in general.” He replied once you removed your hand from his mouth.

You hid your face in both hands, running warm with pure unadulterated embarrassment. 

“Dom that was ballsy posting that picture, you got motherfuckers blowing me up for info about it.”

“Yeah it’s even worse on Y/N’s page bro, they’re blowing her shit up.” 

“It’s insane how many tags and requests I’ve gotten, like it’s kinda scary.” You sigh deeply.

“I feel bad, but honestly I kinda love having shit to myself that people think they know so much about. I plan to keep little Missy around, so they’re gonna have to cope.” Dom shrugs.

You couldn’t help the bashful smile gracing your features at the casualness of the heavy comment. You caught each other's eyes across the couch, smiling softly to yourselves as if in secret conversation. 

“I’d love to stay around with you guys, but I was promised chicken, waffles, and mimosas by a little someone.” You raised your eyebrow knowingly at Dominic.

“I did not promise mimosas.” He retorts.

“It was implied!” You stand, turning to head back to your room to pack. “Hurry up, I'm starving here!” You toy over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the man capsizing the enthralled smile on his face.

You’d have to thank Omar later for his wingman ship, but you’d like to think it was the Midori Sours that did Dominic in, and led you to a night and a boy you’ll never forget. 

[pumpkinsy0]

I like the idea of Ponyboy being a sneaky little shit and getting Curly a book on horticulture ("Haha, you said whore." -Curly) and Curly being all "why the fuck do I want this?"

Ponyboy says nothing, just smiling as he turns the pages to show one how to grow marijuana and Curly's all "Babe, I'll fucking marry you."

Trial and error, good days, bad ones. It's all worth is cause in eight weeks time Curly has his first sprouts. They are wrapped in a baby blanket under a heat lamp in the shed. The sprouts grow and soon enough he's ready for business. He dubs himself "The Greaser Gardner" cause it's kinda true, but also tuff when he puts it into perspective (it's not cool. Angela told him he sounded like a hick grandpa)

Speaking of names, he names his plants too. "This one is prickles, this one is stabby, that one back there is pluck and this one. . . . . this is Ponybabe. I named it after my wife."

Curly makes 50 bucks a month selling the stuff.

Tim is baffled. Perplexed. Because when the hell did Curly prove he could a.) read, b.) comprehend what he was reading and c.) put what he read and comprehend into action all at once?

i giggled at horticulture too, i am NO better than curly

im ngl i IMMEDIATELY thought of that yrailer park boys episode where ricky and julian were growing weed in that one empty ass trailer, I FORGOT EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED BUT IT WAS THAT EPISODE WHERE THE STRIPPER FUCKING STOLE EVERYTHING😭😭

curly going from “babe ill fucking marry u” to “i named it after my wife” what plot development THIS is what we need to see more of ☝🏽☝🏽☝🏽

he only sells stuff from the ponybabe™️ plant to special customers so i like to image he gets really really dramatic talking about that plant, pretending like he’s a wife at sea at the lighthouse waiting for his husband to return from the war

and look rule #1 is “dont get high iff ur own supply” but curlys always like “i gotta test it out before it gets to my customers” (he just rlly wants to get high and doesnt feel like spending money)

i think tims more baffled at the fact that curly is actually able to take care of a living thing without it going to absolute shit, curly is SO heavy handed its not even funny

he likes to spend or give some of his profit to pony, he wouldnt b here without him🙏🏽🙏🏽

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Here we officially have part 1 of our miniseries! I hope you enjoy, and I promise we will finally be meeting Sam soon…

Pairings: Danny Wagner X Sam Kiszka (eventually) *slash

Warnings and tags: as always 18+ only, scram minors! Not much for this part either besides a bit of cocky attitude, little bit of animosity being shown, rivalry, enemies to lovers, some swearing, college AU, tennis club AU

Word count: ~1400

Practice went well for Danny’s first time joining the team on the courts. He made sure to exude enough strength and coordination that his teammates knew he was someone to watch out for, but he didn’t show off in a way that would put any targets on his back. At least not yet.

By Saturday, he was more than ready to start his challenge match against Zach, the first person up on the ladder before him. It felt impractical to have to go through everyone on the ladder to get to the one he really wanted to face, but he was assured many times from the club president that it was the only way to progress.

“Going to be a good game today?” Adam asked Danny when they both showed up on the court at the appointed time.

“Hopefully a quick one, let’s get this underway” Danny replied, setting up his spot on the bench nearby.

“So what’s your deal?” Adam questioned curiously, watching the way Danny prepped for the game as they waited for Zach to arrive by making sure his shoes were tied, his grip tape was wrapped tight, shock absorber was still in good shape, and stretching a bit. “We’ve been playing with the same guys on this team for two years now, challenges are made all the time but everyone’s pretty much set on the ladder now, hasn’t been much moving besides the graduates, but you think you can climb the whole thing in just one month?”

“I am going to” Danny smiled, his words ambitious but his face still showing a hint of boyish wholesomeness.

“You’re gunning for the number one spot then? That won’t be an easy task. Sam’s held that spot since joining the team his first year” Adam set to explaining, “Hadn’t been a freshman at the top in a long time, or anyone capable of holding their spot for this long either”.

Danny wasn’t phased by his caution. He’d heard the rumors of the infamous Prince of the tennis club since transferring to this university. Though he was on the team at the last school he attended, there wasn’t much excitement or popularity for their club like there was for the one here.

With the season starting the championship winning tennis team was a hot topic amongst his classmates, and Sam was apparently an even hotter topic. Though his so-called ‘fan club’ Sam had sounded more like a cult following from Danny’s perspective, only a little bit annoyed every time his name ultimately came up with the subject.

When Zach finally arrived, Danny wasted no time with formalities. He greeted him kindly and they flipped a coin to see who would serve first. Danny was heads, so by fate he lined his sneakers up next to the white line, threw the palm sized yellow ball into the air, and even with the sun shining in his eyes he nailed the far left corner of the service box and aced his opening shot.

Danny held the advantage the entire game while hardly breaking a sweat. Poor Zach when he quickly realized he was in a game way out of his league, gave up by the second set, but Danny appreciated his sportsmanship as he held out as best he could until the match was over.

“That was…” Adam trailed off, his hands on his hips and an unbelievable smile on his lips. When he agreed to witness these challenge matches today he came with the intention to gauge Danny’s capabilities, and he had effortlessly exceeded all expectations. He was skeptical before, but now Adam seriously did consider that the top spot on the ladder may be in jeopardy.

Danny took a break on the bench, pulling his hat off to let his curly head of hair breathe while he took long sips from his water bottle. “So when can we set up the next one? Tomorrow okay?” Danny questioned.

Adam was amazed once more. Danny hadn’t even won the second match yet and he was already confidently talking about playing someone else. “I mean, like I said I’m free, but if you keep challenging like this people are going to start talking”.

“That’s fine” Danny stood back up and secured his hat again as he noticed his next opponent approaching the courts, Dylan.

“Let them talk”.

Thursday was beginning to wrap the week up and Danny had resolved himself to acknowledge that this would be only his second but already his last practice with Team B. Of course he had won the two challenge matches on Saturday, then he had two more on Sunday and Monday, which meant by this weekend when he challenged the next two players on the ladder that he would officially have made it to Team A.

He didn’t hold back at practice, and attention was starting to be drawn towards his court as he drilled with the top player on the team. Their challenge match had already been scheduled , Saturday at noon, and by the looks of it now Danny was sure to be the clear winner.

“Well I look forward to my redemption in a few days” Thomas sarcastically approached Danny from the other side of the net, still trying to catch his breath as practice concluded.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you” Danny smiled genuinely.

Even if his plan meant he couldn’t feel remorse for all the guys he had to go through to get to the top, it didn’t mean he was an asshole. In fact, Danny quite liked everyone he had met so far. He only hoped the next team would take his rise as cordially as this group had.

“Hey, if I can actually ask you a favor?” Thomas stopped him as they headed into the locker rooms, continuing when Danny gave him an easy sure. “Do you think we can move the match this weekend up an hour? There’s going to be another one later that day and I don’t want to miss it”.

“Oh, you’re witnessing a match that day too?” Danny questioned as he put his things away in his locker.

“Right” Thomas laughed, “there will be plenty of witnesses for that match. It’s Sam’s first challenge of the season”.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, the guy on the top of the ladder. He doesn’t get challenged very often but when he does it draws a pretty big crowd. Can’t wait to see who the sorry sucker is”.

A crowd? Danny thought to himself, wondering how many people would really want to take time out of their Saturday afternoon to watch a game of tennis that didn’t really mean anything. He agreed anyways so long as the club president was going to be okay with it as well.

“By the way, that’s your locker?” Thomas raised a brow and pointed at the tiny space Danny was standing in front of. He sounded slightly concerned, like it wa supposed to be off limits or something.

“Is that a problem?” Danny looked the locker over then back at the other man with a confused look on his face.

“No, it’s nothing” he brushed it off and they agreed to meet at eleven instead on Saturday.

Danny’s fifth challenge went just like his first, and second and third and fourth… admittedly he was getting tired of spending so much time playing on his time off, but then again that was the point. The coaches created the ladder as a way to encourage all of the players on the team to continue practicing on days when it wasn’t mandatory, and so far it had proven to be good motivation.

Or maybe motivation wasn’t the right word to use. Danny was quickly learning that it was more of a spectacle for some. Soon after his match was over he noticed more and more people filling in the bleachers at the courts, until soon they were nearly full like there was an unannounced tournament about to take place. Though the only thing he knew of that was happening today was Sam’s challenge.

“Hey, what’s everyone here for?” Danny caught Adam in passing just before he ran off to join the mass of waiting onlookers.

“Are you going to stay and watch the next match?” He asked, like he didn’t even register that Danny didn’t understand what was going on or why everyone was so excited.

“I wasn’t planning on it?” Danny tried again to dig for more details, “should I?”

Adam smiled widely and leaned in so he could lower his voice in case there was a coach anywhere nearby that didn’t need to hear this. “If you are, you have to place your bet”.

Danny’s brows furrowed in even more confusion, “Bet?”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to Jake and Josh”.

Tags: @kultavalo @musicislove3389

[adidastain]

love to hate you

90s matt stone x fem!reader (named Sadie)

warnings: arguing, suggestive themes if you squint really hard

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.), this is part one of a series mwahaha cliffhanger

word count: 2539

—

The time was 7:54 PM. That marked six hours since I’d last sat down. 

It got to the point where I could barely move more than three feet in any direction. I was perched next to the camera, watching each take while the director spectated from the monitor, just a few feet away. 

We were on Take #5 of the second shot of the entire scene. I knew at this rate, we would still be here shooting the tail end of this scene at 9 o’clock. But Trey was picky, and it was my job to make sure he got what he wanted out of each take. 

“Cut!” he shouted, exhaling heavily. I trudged over to where he was standing, keeping my back straight so as to not look so tired in front of all my colleagues.

“What do you think?” I asked him, standing at his side just a few inches away. Trey stared into space, gnawing on his fingernail as he thought deeply. 

“What’s the time looking like?” he asked me, words muffled by his hand. 

“We should wrap up this scene by 9 and be done for the night,” I sighed. 

He stood in silence, staring at the actors on set as they waited for his call. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “Let’s move on.”

“Moving on!” I echoed. Thank God. Trey walked onto the set, standing in front of the actors to explain what he wanted for the next shot. 

I moved as quickly as I could over to the table off to the side, grabbing a water bottle for myself and chugging it. I so badly wanted to sit down for just a minute, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to let myself. 

“What’s going on?” I heard a voice behind me. I turned my head, seeing our producer with his big silver glasses and curly hair, towering over me. He had his skinny, muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. He was obviously peeved. 

“Setting up the next shot. Where have you been?” I asked, subtly leaning against the table. Matt and I didn’t really get along most days. We didn’t get along at all, actually. I didn’t really understand why, but as long as he stayed out of my way, I couldn’t care less what he thought of me. 

“Signing your checks,” he spat. I turned my back to him, walking away towards the set. I approached the cinematographer, before Matt put his hand on my shoulder to prevent me from moving any further. 

“Did we get the shot?” Matt asked me, raising his eyebrows. 

“What does it look like?” I hissed, gesturing to our surroundings. I turned my back to him again to help the camera crew move around. 

Matt disappeared shortly after. For someone who was nowhere to be found during rehearsals and shooting, he cared an awful lot about what I was doing. I knew he was busy with scheduling and budget stuff, but he was Trey’s right hand man on most of their projects, so it didn’t make sense why he wouldn’t make time to see it all happening. 

Perhaps that’s why he was always up my ass on set. Even then, he had no reason to get such an attitude when talking to me. So many people told me how professional he was on set before I started shooting with them; if he was so professional, then only God might know why he treated me the way he did. 

While I waited for Trey to finish running a rehearsal for the camera, I kept a close eye on the time. 9 o’clock was a huge stretch at this point. Granted, we did make a lot of progress for one day. 

I noticed Matt talking to a lady in the corner. She looked professional; she had on a black blazer and held a binder tucked underneath her arm. I stared for a moment, thinking about what they could be talking about. It was almost quiet enough to hear, since all the buzz from PAs and crew members had died down for the rehearsal. Matt was leaning down slightly so he could hear whatever the woman was saying. He was… looking at me. 

I looked away. Are they talking about me? God. He better not be saying anything bad. I was good at my job and he knew it. I knew it. 

Soon, we called for quiet, and we were back to shooting. Trey opted to do a continuous take and have actors run their lines multiple times, so they could just pick up if they forgot. The scene was almost three pages long, so there was a lot of dialogue and no doubt that they would slip up. 

And of course, as expected, one of the actors called for a line a few times. I was actually really happy. Doing a single continuous take would save us so much time. 

After we wrapped up the shot, Trey called for everyone to take five. 

“‘Scuse me,” I heard a voice next to me. It was the lady that Matt was talking to just a few minutes ago. 

“How can I help you?” I asked, giving her a smile. 

“Can you come with me for a moment?” she asked. 

I followed her to an empty portion of the room where most of the gear was camping out, waiting to be used. Matt was standing there next to a door to another room.

“It would seem that you and Mr. Stone have been having some problems, no?” she said, gesturing towards Matt. He stared me down, chewing on the inside of his cheek. I felt my body burning under his angry and slightly intimidating gaze.

“I guess,” I said. “I’m not sure why.”

“Me neither,” she said, sporting a fake smile. I could see now how caked her makeup was when her skin wrinkled with her grin. “Care to explain, Mr. Stone?”

I was honestly shocked. I guess she was acting in my defense. Perhaps his unprofessionalism stood out to her; I realized that she was probably a supervisor from a big production company. 

“I think Sadie is slowing down production. That’s all,” he said calmly. I hated the way his voice sounded. It was deep and nasally and he always had such a snobby tone. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I argued, furrowing my eyebrows. “My job is to keep things moving. We would’ve been stuck shooting that same shot over and over if I hadn’t said anything.” 

“Well if you would just let Trey get what he wants, we wouldn’t have to take time every day to reshoot scenes from the day before,” Matt said, raising his eyebrows. 

“There’s clearly a misunderstanding here,” the lady huffed, rubbing her temples. “I want you two to work it out between yourselves. Right now. Personally, I’m embarrassed for you. Fix it.” 

Matt sighed, looking down at his feet. I laughed on the inside. 

The woman took a step closer to me to whisper, “I don’t know what his problem is. I think you’ve been doing just fine. But the way you’re reacting to him isn’t helping anybody in this situation, so figure it out.” 

I nodded. She walked away, leaving the space between Matt and I filled with nothing but silence and tension. His glare was throwing daggers at me. I couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t scary most of the time. I swallowed, trying my best to keep it subtle so he wouldn’t notice.

“So what’s your deal?” I asked calmly, shifting my weight from one heal to the other. 

“I told you what my deal is,” he said. He licked his lips. “Not very good at listening, are you?”

“Did I say or do something that’s been affecting you outside of work?” I said, laughing. I was truly at a loss for words. What on Earth could I have done to make him hate me so much? I’m not friends with anyone in the cast or crew outside of shooting, so why did it matter? Trey seemed to be fine with me. Maybe Matt was jealous? 

“You’re fucking up our project, Sadie,” he hissed. “Not to mention you just fucking humiliated me in front of the exec from Universal!”

My jaw dropped open. He sounded like such an idiot. I humiliated him? “You started it! I was just doing my fucking job, Matt!” I exclaimed, keeping my voice as hushed as possible. “When have I ever gotten in your way, hm? Give me an example. Go ahead.”

“Every single day,” he laughed. “You won’t let Trey just do his thing. This thing’s gonna turn out to be shit by the time we’re done and it’s gonna be your fault.”

“Who hired me, Matt? I wanna know,” I said. He hired me. I knew that. He knew that. “I think you ought to have a strong word with him. He looks like an idiot right now.”

“You’re lucky you were even considered,” he said. Matt crossed his arms and leaned closer. “You don’t have shit in your portfolio.” 

“If you don’t back off and let me do my job, there’s only gonna be more shit,” I said lowly, gritting my teeth. 

“That won’t happen. Don’t forget who signs your checks, sweetheart,” he growled.

He was just a few inches away from me now. At this point I could feel his breath covering my face. 

“Fire me,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “If I’m such a nuisance to this project, fire me.”

“Alright, then. Leave.”

“Say ‘you’re fired,’” I instructed. 

“Get the fuck out of here,” he said, laughing softly. “Be my guest.”

“You’re scared, Matt. I know you are. I can see it in your eyes,” I grinned. “You’re scared you’re gonna look bad in front of the execs for firing me without reason, hm? Say it.”

“You’re fucking fired,” he said, raising his voice. He had no need to; my face was less than a foot away from his. I jumped slightly, not expecting the sheer volume with which he spoke. 

The entire set went quiet for a brief moment. I felt my face start to burn as I realized that every single person in the building probably heard that. Now I felt like an idiot. Matt leaned away from me, crossing his arms and staring me down. I could see a smirk curling on the side of his lip. Never in my professional career did I want to hit anyone more than I did in that moment.

I swallowed back tears, trying to compose myself before I actually turned to walk out. I could see Matt’s broad, muscular chest rising and falling rapidly. Perhaps he felt a rush of adrenaline for finally putting me in my place. 

“Good luck finishing this scene by the end of the hour without my help,” I muttered, ramming my shoulder into his body as I pushed past him to get through the exit. 

I grabbed my backpack from the hallway and stormed outside. Of course, it was raining. How cliche. 

Once I was in the safety and quiet of my car, I burst into tears. I couldn’t believe that asshole actually fired me. I know I encouraged him to do it, but I didn’t think he actually would. He was so fucking confusing all the time; I trusted my judgement and my judgement was wrong. 

I put on a crewneck over the tank top I was wearing as I tried to take deep breaths and calm down. I was confident that they wouldn’t get the rest of shooting done within the next two weeks without my help. Fine, they could suffer all they wanted. They only had one person to blame and it sure as Hell wasn’t me. 

Just to make my life even better, the location of the set was a good forty minutes away from where I lived, so the drive home sucked. It was late, I was exhausted, I was cold, it was raining, Matt was an asshole, Trey was probably in shambles. The whole sundae with the whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and the cherry on top. 

It was well after 9 PM when I got home. I looked at the clock in my kitchen and wondered if they’d finished filming as I watched the second hand tick. Whatever. I shouldn’t care. 

I set all my stuff down in my bedroom and turned the water on for a hot shower. I felt really gross, from sweat, tears, snot, and rain water. I thought about the Universal lady giving Matt a verbal beating about his unprofessionalism. The thought made me smile as I got undressed and stepped into the shower, every bit of tension and stress in my body melting away as the hot water poured over my skin. 

I pictured his face turning red with embarrassment as she told him how immature and unprofessional he was. Call it cruel, but imagining him getting verbally beaten by a big company really relieved my stress. 

My mind circled back to our dispute from before I left. I didn’t understand why he got so fucking angry at me for no apparent reason. Maybe after I started teasing him, sure, but before? I was defending myself. If he was so worried about me sabotaging his and Trey’s project, then he was far from ready for working in Hollywood. 

It was ridiculous, honestly. I couldn’t even do anything to ruin the creative aspect of the film with the position I held. I was the 1st Assistant Director, for God’s sake. All I was there to do was prevent people from wasting time and keep things moving. I couldn’t fathom what Matt would have had such a major fucking problem with. 

I found myself less relaxed again. Weirdly, I wondered what Matt was doing right now. Maybe he was getting scolded by the exec, maybe he was getting scolded by Trey. They’d probably (hopefully) finished loading out by now, so maybe he was driving. Maybe he was in the shower too. Maybe he fell asleep at the wheel and drove off a cliff and ended up in a fiery car crash on a remote beach. Maybe they were still filming. Maybe he was in the shower, washing his hair or his body, just like I was…

I cringed and turned the water off, ringing my hair out. I shook my arms and legs and stepped out of the shower, quickly grabbing my towel and smothering my head with it. Matt had been on my mind the entire night since I left, but truthfully, I didn’t care that much. I was way too tired and honestly relieved to not have to get up at 6 AM the following morning and film for another 15 hours again. I smeared the rough fabric all over my body as I walked down the hall to my room. 

That’s when my doorbell rang. 

I froze. What time is it? Who the fuck could possibly at my door this late anyway? 

I ran to my room, throwing on a baggy T-shirt and some fuzzy pajama shorts and running over to my door to peer through the peephole. 

A loud groan escaped me when I saw who it was. 

The last person I wanted to see at my door at any hour of the day, let alone past 10 PM.

[harmlessmessages]

WARNING: SMUT Careless by harmlessmessages. All rights reserved by the author.

“Careless” tells the story of two strangers who meet at an open mic in Manhattan. She’s a vibrant musician determined to perform even as her body resists her every move. He’s a mysterious young man weighed down by debilitating, chronic pain and a secret as dark as the mask that hides his face. 

Through alternating perspectives, their chance encounter evolves into a night of raw connection and unguarded intimacy. As their stories intertwine, their personal struggles and unexpected likeness surface, revealing the solace and heartbreak of finding hope and relief in one another, even if for one night.

Each scene is paired with a song, making “Careless” an immersive experience where music mirrors the characters’ journeys and the poignancy of their bond.

Song: Yellow Brick Road, Angus & Julia Stone

16/41

Her entire body burned. Her hands, her knees, her thighs— every inch of her felt alive, searing against the icy chill outside the bar.  

His hair was dark and curly, short but unruly and hanging down his forehead. His face was striking, every feature perfectly aligned with his brows and deep, piercing eyes. His nose was strong, just as she imagined, but its slight asymmetry only made him more real, more alluring. His jawline was sharp, angular, yet soft, with two, small birthmarks kissing both of his rosy, olive cheeks. His teeth pearly, straight, so stupidly straight that she scoffed at how obvious their perfection was. And his lips— God, his lips. The upper one curved just so, while the lower was plush, begging to be tugged gently between her teeth. 

Without hesitation, she rose onto her toes and kissed him, bold and unyielding. The force made him stagger back a step, but he didn’t falter. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him, crushing her to his body until she could feel the hard press of his dick against her stomach, even through the layers of clothing shielding her from the cold.

Something had changed in him since he’d been gone. He wasn’t the same man. He was wild now, feral, as if something darker and untamed had taken root within him. His hands tightened around her as he pushed her backward, her spine meeting the rough chill of the brick wall behind them.

His mouth found hers again, but this time it was different— hotter, hungrier. He sucked on her bottom lip, and she let out a soft moan, surrendering. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, meeting his, and they moved together, wet and urgent, their breaths mingling in a chaotic rhythm that matched the thundering pound in her chest.

When he finally pulled back, it was only slightly, just enough to place a warm, calloused hand on her cheek. His gaze dropped to her lips, red and swollen from his kisses, and his voice came low and raw.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin, setting her alight all over again.

“Yes.”

She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t need to. She didn’t know his name— had only just committed his face to memory — but it didn’t matter. She wanted him. That was all she needed to know.

And she would go with him.

17/41

He grabbed her hand, small against his, and squeezed them gently as he led her down the street. He couldn’t help himself. He was just a stupid boy. Some would say 26 years would make him a man, many told him he was mature for his age, too, but he still felt like a stupid, stupid boy. He laughed out loud. 

“What is so funny?” She tugged at him. He looked down at her and smiled. 

“I just didn’t think I’d be here.” 

“Same.” She shook her head, grinning. “I mean, I honestly had no idea you’d come back.”

He wanted to tell her what he really meant. That he should still be in Japan, or Hawaii, or at home with parents.

“I didn’t think I would either.” No lie there. 

“So… What made you come back?” 

“Do you even have to ask?”

She let go of his hand, nudging him in the waist with her elbow. “Come on, tell me.”

He winced. Her nudge had hit a nerve— a real one, this time. 

“Oh shit, sorry.” She reached for his arm, but stopped before she could touch him. “Did I hurt you?”

“No — I mean, a little. But it’s okay. It happens a lot. I’m used to it.” 

They walked side by side down the dark avenue in the direction of his hostel. He knew it was a bad idea to take her back there. The obvious reasons aside, his roommates were another concern. But they had assured him they’d be out tonight, and it was still early— barely 10 PM.

The ethics and logistics were one thing, but the technicalities were what would really hold him back. To be intimate was always an uphill battle. He already loathed the need for such caution, the way he had to move carefully, precisely, to avoid pain. But what he hated even more was how it limited her. Now, she wouldn’t even touch his arm, hesitant and afraid she might hurt him. She was being kind, but he did not want her to be kind. He wanted her to moan into his ear like she did earlier.

“Do you want to sit?” She motioned to the line of stoops on the street. 

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind that.” The concern on her face would have usually irritated him. People always felt bad for him, always tried to accommodate his condition, making him detest this life even more. But how could he blame her? She didn’t know. She didn’t even know his name.

18/41

She sat on the dark stoop, barely touched by the dim glow of townhouse lights across the street. He settled beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed, their bodies angled toward the parked cars in front of them. Every part of her body begged her to turn to him. But she was afraid of crossing a line again. What if she went too far, and he walked away like he did last time?

“Hey.” He spoke softly, as if to get her attention.

She spun her head, knocking hard against his face. Shit, was he trying to kiss her?

“Shit! Shit! I’m sorry!” She started to laugh, failing to hide her discomfort. Was this how it was going to end?

“Ow.” He laughed, rubbing his jaw. 

“I didn’t mean to do that. Obviously. But shit, are you okay? I’m so—”

He placed his pointer finger up to her lips, the roughness of his skin turning her on ever so slightly. “I’m okay.” He whispered, eyes wide, urging her to believe him. 

Slowly, his finger fell, pulling her bottom lip down with it. She watched his gaze descend, as if he had discovered the feeling of her lips for the first time. 

Their eyes raised to meet each other, both of them smiling in a knowing greeting. She grabbed his hand, moving it away from her face so that she could lean in, touching her lips to his in a light, fleeting kiss.

“Okay then,” she pulled back, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Well, I see you’re not deformed.”

He laughed, low and rough. “Would you still be here if I was?”

“Maybe,” she said, her voice playful, her gaze steady. “But honestly, I kind of miss the mask. It was hot.”

He shook his head with a grin, letting out another laugh. “So you’re a comedian, too?”

“I’ve thought about doing stand up once or twice.” Giggling, she turned her attention to the hand she held, her fingers sliding over his palm. She pressed firmly, drawing small, deliberate circles against his skin, the pressure echoing the steady ache building low in her belly.

“I like being here with you,” he said, his voice soft but certain, his eyes studying the movements she made with her finger as if he hoped to remember them. 

Her chest tightened at his words, a pang of something warm and sharp rippling through her. “Do you?” she murmured, moving closer, her lips brushing the curve of his ear.

He leaned in further, their cheeks grazing, his breath hot against her skin. 

“I do.” His voice vibrated through her, from her ear to her neck and down her spine.

She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. 

“Show me,” she whispered, leaning back just enough for their noses to sweep against each other, her lips hovering over his own in a delicate standoff.

He licked his top lip slowly, before gently biting down on his bottom one. She smiled faintly, her lips grazing his in a featherlight touch before trailing to his cheek, then down the sharp line of his jaw.

Her kisses deepened as she reached his neck, strong and tight and hot beneath her mouth. His breath fastened, his hand tightening slightly in hers, the quiet street around them fading into nothing that mattered.

[victoriousssss]

Riley watched how James ordered their drinks with a smile. She would never order alcohol so easily in her life! Everyone needed a passport from her, even when she was 22 already! "Thank you, baby", she purred to James, enjoying his affectionate touch. She shivered on the kiss and sighed when James began to gently touch her skin. This was all she ever wanted in this world.. Riley wrapped her arms around James once again and tilted her head, giving him more space to explore.

"Hmm..", she murmured, stroking James' spine and bit her lip, gently brushing his curly hair. It was gorgeous.. Riley ran her fingers through it, gently brushing his soft waves. "And you're so damn hot..", she whispered, resting her head on his when barman interrupted them. "Your drinks", he said emotionlessly, probably being used to the hungry drunk couples around. Riley leaned a bit away from James and smiled, taking her drink. "Cheers", she said with a grin and tinted cheeks, looking at James as she sipped her drink.

"You really wanna go and dance more?", she asked him curiously, squirming a bit on his lap. Her butt was pretty big for his thin legs.. Riley bit her lip and laid her head on James' shoulder, kissing it. "I think I'm tired..", she murmured, watching him. "We better find some place to rest.. everyone is sweaty and will go to have their drinks soon..", Riley explained, lazily sipping her drink. Why should they stay at the bar when they can find a corner to have some privacy? It was a way better perspective...

Closed starter 🎬

Riley's life has been changed since her first big role in the movie. Too small for the Hollywood's first line but extremely important for a beginner in the industry. She did it and she was so happy! People began to recognize her, meet her on the street and ask her for photos and autographs. This was the dream come true!

But she didn't want to stop on one role. Riley Page has her long way to the top and now she was just on the first stage of her new life. That's why her friend-manager suggested her to try herself in different ways. One of them was a casting for a music video for a band called Metallica. Who were they even? Some dirty guys playing noisy music? Riley was sceptical about it but her manager assured her that they were one of the hottests things in America, and that this collaboration will help them both.

Whilst her team did all the paper work, Riley was preparing for her take. Just some acting warm-up and she'll be the best. But once she entered the room she was flabbergasted. There was a ton of pretty chicks of different nations, races and even body types! Riley gulped, sitting near one of the girls in the line. "Are they all here for the casting?", she asked quietly but got only a sarcasmic chuckle. "First time here? Never thought that someone doesn't know how the "casting" goes for the metal bands", the girl said with a smirk, making Riley feeling anxious. Was there something she didn't know?

@het-field

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[raineydays411]

Oh, what am I supposed to do without you

Loki x daughter!reader

Summary: Loki thought he was in a good place. He was married, happy and having a child. He should’ve known the universe wasn’t that kind.

A/N: God I’m so sorry about this one lol. Not much of the reader but I will be  making a second part. I hope yall like this one though. Inspiration came from “Mr, Loverman” and this fic.

Master list

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The silence was rattling. It creeped into the room, slowly,menacingly. Threatening to make him go mad. It wrapped around his body like a familiar friend. Making it hard for him to breath as it suffocated him. He knew they were staring at him. Trying to figure out what he would do next, whether he would break or not. Truthfully he didn’t know what he would do. For now he just starred as well. Not at them, of course not. He stared at the one thing that mattered. His reason for waking up and living. The one person in this entire universe who gave his world color. He reached out to touch her. Touch the hands that were always so warm against his cold skin. Hands that held his firm and sure as she pulled him along behind her, a smile on her beautiful face. Hands that were now cold and limp, the radicant glow she had been known for gone dark. The colors she brought to his world dimmed to dull, gre, muted hues. Then a sound broke through the silence. two sounds actually. One a wail of new life, a baby taking her first breaths, and another. A wail of a man who has lost everything. A wail of agony and pain.

As the healers bustled around him, Loki had only one thought in his head. 

“What am I supposed to do without you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three months later and Loki still felt the emptiness left by his love. He heard her at night, humming sweet melodies as she stroked his hair. He hears her heartbeat as he eventually falls asleep, worn out by his constant tears. His room is in shambles, his clothes strewn about the floor, furniture smashed, everything is destroyed. Except for the things that belong to her. Her silk dresses that draped on her body perfectly were still hanging, untouched. The books she spent hours reading and re-reading remained on the shelf, collecting dust as they were no longer used. He doesn’t let anyone in their chambers. The space where they both shared. Space where they fought, made up, made love. To let someone else in would be tainting it. Soiling the memories they made together. That was one thing he could never do.

Another was look at the little monster who is responsible for this tragedy.

It was a girl. The daughter of one Loki Odinson and his beloved. 

Ironic. This child was supposed to bring happiness with its birth. Not even cleaned and it already managed to take away Loki’s light. He can barely stand looking at it. He tried, of course  he tried. But within minutes he had to call the nurse to take it away. Why? 

Because she has her mothers eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Loki”

“Get out”

“Loki, it's been nine months since your child was--”

“THAT THING IS NO CHILD OF MINE”

Frigga was taken aback. She knew her son was heartbroken, devastated at the loss of his wife. But to disown his daughter, that was something she didn’t see coming. 

“Loki, you are being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable? My wife has died because if that creature--”

“It is a child. A babe who has no idea who her father nor her mother is.”

“And as far as I’m concerned she never will!” Loki shouts, finally looking up at his mother. 

Frigga heart breaks for her son. She sees the utter agony he is in, the inner torment going on in his soul. Even if she didn’t see it in his face, the state of his room and self gives it away. He looks like he hasn’t bathed in the nine months that has passed. His clothes were rumpled and wrinkled, hair unkempt and wild. His face was pale and hollow, as if he was only eating enough to survive. He had dark bags under his eyes that showed that he hasn’t been sleeping well.  He truly was a man who was broken, almost beyond repair. 

“My son” Frigga said carefully,” I can never understand the pain you are going through, I pray to Valhalla I will not have to anytime soon. But please if not for yourself or that child, for the memory of her, attempt to see your daughter before making a rash decision.” And with that, she walked out of his chamber, leaving Loki to the silence again as he stared at the spot his mother stood. considering her words, he got up. picked up his room, went to bathe and walked out of the room for the first time in nine months. 

His face held no emotion as he walked down the hallways. He saw the servants stop and stare at him, shock filled their face as they saw the prince. He glared at them, sending them scurrying at the dark glance. He reached the nursery, the maid who oversaw the nursery tried to stop him. 

“My lord, you--” 

“Where is the child.” He said, calm and cool. The maid looked at him in fear, not knowing how to respond. At her silence, Loki scoffed and pushed her away, marching into the nursery. Upon entering he froze, memories of him and his beloved discussing the design they wanted for their child

**“Darling, why does the color shade matter? It’s not like the child has expectations.”

Laughter fills the air, “Loki, we must put every effort into showing our child they are loved. That includes finding the perfect shade of green to go with the room”

Loki looks at his wife, gently smiling.”If you say so my dear”**

The room was perfect. The walls were a beautiful shade of green that allowed the light into the room. There were vines and flowers crawling up the walls and draped over curtains. A white and gold crib stood in the middle of the chamber. A veil draped over it, preventing Loki from seeing the child inside. He was thankful as he worked up the courage to walk up to it. He looked out the window, seeing the stars that covered the sky, the lights of Asgard covering the earth. 

She would have loved it.

He took a deep breath and walked toward the crib. He pulled back the veil only to see that there was no child in there. 

“The babe is with your mother my lord.”

He turned to the maid. Embarrassed that she might have witnessed him reminiscing.

“And where is my mother” He asked

“In-in the dining hal--” 

He walked away before she was able to finish her sentence. He took long strides to the hall, wondering his his mother had tricked him into eating with the family.On the way, he passed a window overlooking the garden. He thinks of the times where he used to sit in it and listen to her read.

***  “...exquisite, in question more. These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows”

“My love, why do you insist on reading these midgardian stories?”

Her laughter  reaches his ears, “Because beloved, it's a different perspective to something familiar”

“Oh? and what is that ?” 

“Love”  ***

“oki--”

Hearing his name, Loki is brought back to present times once more. He looks to see Thor, watching him with careful eyes. 

“Brother, it is wonderful to see you.”

“I wish I can say the same.”

Thor laughs, a soft chuckle compared to the booming laughter Loki knows he is capable of. 

“Ah Loki, your dry wit has been missed”

Loki rolls his eyes and starts walking and Thor follows. The two walking in silence. 

“What is it like?” Loki says softly. Thor looks at him in confusion.

“It?” 

“The child.”

“Oh brother, Y/n is--”

“Y/n?” 

That was the name she wanted. If they were to have a girl. She was determined, seeing the name in the book she loved to read. He remembers when they were telling his family she was with child.

*** Everyone was seated, servants bustling around the long table. Laughter filled the hall as the sun was setting. 

“Loki, you said you had news to tell us” Frigga said, taking a sip of her wine. 

Loki smiled, looking at his wife. Her face absolutely radiant as she flashes a smile of pure joy.

“ Well,” Loki waits till Thor has taken a large swig of ale, “ My beloved and are are expecting a child.” 

Gasps fill the room as well as Thor's hacking, ale being spewed on the table. 

“Oh Loki that is wonderful!!”  Frigga exclaims standing from her seat to embrace him. “Oh my dear, this is the most wonderous news,” 

“BROTHER I can’t believe it!” Thor exclaims, lifting Loki in a crushing hug. And for once, he didn’t mind it.  He turns to her and hugs her more gently. “ You are just full of surprises aren’t you, starlight”

Laughter, “Thor, I thought I told you to stop calling me that”

Silence fills the hall as Odin clears his throat, “ Loki, you have made me proud.”

Loki smiles as his love beams at him. 

“Thank you father.”**

They reached the dining hall. A cold feeling formed in the pits of his stomach. He can see his mother, talking with a maid as she bounces the child. He can’t see it, as Frigga's back is turned to him. Odin’s presence is notably absent, a small relief on Loki's part. 

Thor notices his brother’s nerves, he pats him on the back and says, “You can do this Loki.” Then walks off to join his mother. He kisses his mothers cheek and smiles at the child. He picks her up, bouncing her a few times  prompting a small laugh. Loki gimances at the sound. 

Thor walks up to him with the baby. 

“Loki, this is Y/n Odinson”

He looks at the child. He takes in its features, Beautiful curly hair, already thick and voluminous even at this age. Brown skin, unblemished and clean. Cheeks, chubby with baby fat. And...its eyes. Those damn eyes, he could barely stand it, (e/c) eyes, the same as his lost love. In fact, almost all it’s features that once belonged to his darling. A pain filled his body. He really couldn’t stand looking at this child. 

Not when his beloved wasn’t there to gaze upon their child as well. 

No, this was not his child. Not anymore. 

“Get rid of it.” 

Shock filled the faces of both Thor and Frigga. 

“Loki you cannot be serious.”

“Brother..”

“I SAID GET RID OF IT” Loki shouts. “I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THAT LITTLE MONSTER.” 

And with that he leaves the dining hall. Leaving behind  his mother, brother and the last piece of his wife he had. He hears it’s cries fill the silence.

He had only one thought in his head as he entered his chambers.

“What am I supposed to do without you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[kirieshhhka003]

If you don’t mind, can I ask NSFW alphabet with Ghiaccio? 🧊

Note: in all NSFW alphabets I describe how this character acts during sex with different partners, NOT with someone they love

Warnings: NSFW

Ghiaccio NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ghiaccio mostly uses services of high-end prostitutes so he never actually frets over aftercare. Mafioso pays his partners money for sex, why would he care for partner’s well-being after the deed?

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On partner is plump soft lips, so pretty and perfect to wrap around Ghiaccio’s dick while sucking him off neatly. Blue-haired doesn’t really has a body part he’d love on himself, due to his stand’s ability his whole body is worked-out and it’s definitely something to be proud of

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ghiaccio likes to show his dominance over partner in any possible way, he thinks that cumming on their face is a great way of doing so. Making partner swallow all his sperm down after fucking their throat raw really strokes blue-haired’s ego, he may even stroke their head idly if they did a good job

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Once he had tipsy sex with Melone after one especially hard and stressful mission. They two spent three days haunting their target and planning the killing itself, so at the end, when all work was done, Melone and Ghiaccio went to the nearest bar, hoping to get rid of the stress. And they succeeded. Both of them acted like nothing happened afterwards, just dressed up, fixed their hair and said “See ya soon”, coming home nonchalantly

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think that Ghiaccio is about 25, so it’s obvious that he’s pretty experienced (look at this man, he can’t be a virgin). Blue-haired has tried almost everything, so he definitely knows what he’s doing

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

His personal favorites are missionary and all related (so he can choke partner), doggystyle and the one where he fucks partner form behind while laying on the side

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

The only sounds blue-haired wants to hear from his partner during sex are moans, whimpers and pleadings, every other thing will be treated like misbehaving and then punished harshly

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ghiaccio’s pubes are very curly, but he always keeps himself clean-shaved and he prefers the same on partners, or maybe some fancy trim like heart-shaped carpet

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Blue-haired only expects to receive some pleasure and a few orgasms from his partners, so he definitely won’t treat them like a fragile little doll. Ghiaccio is fairly harsh on himself, so being soft and caring is not about him

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

For Ghiaccio sex is one of the ways to get rid of all the rage he has bubbling within his body, this is why he jacks off often. It almost never lasts for more than 5 mins because man literally wrings orgasm out of himself with a tight fist stroking his dick on the speed of light

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ooooof, a huge fan of impact play, so facefucking, slapping, hair tugging, degrading and bondage is always on the list. Blue-haired also has a thing for his partner calling him a master or signore, it really just blows his brains out and Ghiaccio turns into monster in bed, fucking his partner mercilessly. Also, dry humping and clothed sex, due to his short temper mafioso sometimes doesn’t have enough patience for undressing, so he just does the deed without getting off his garments

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He usually fucks at the hotel room he’s booked a day before, so wherever inside of apartments is fine. And, we all remember his red sport car, right? Sex there always feels special for man, so this is definitely one of his favorite places to get some quality time

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Ghiaccio’s tantrums are the best motivation ever. Mafioso had a shitty day - he will fuck then to get rid of the stress. It’s pretty hard to make mafioso going if he’s not in the right mood, no matter how hard partner try

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Water sports and all related. Just no. Ghiaccio is up to try everything, but this is his big no-no

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

One of his main kinks is facefucking so Ghia is all for a good blowjob. But when it comes to going down on someone… well, he’s not a fan. Especially when man has sex with prostitutes, he won’t ever go down on sex worker. It’s not like he’s disgusted of them or anything, it just doesn’t feel right for him (but not with someone Ghiaccio has feelings for, he’d gladly spend hours settled between beloved’s legs)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Ghiaccio is kinda selfish in bed, doing whatever he wants, not caring much about partner’s feelings or preferences. Mafioso is always fast and rough, all his movements are harsh, his words are pure filth, but if partner are on some kinky stuff - Ghiaccio is a perfect option

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

A HUGE FAN OF THEM! Ghiaccio loves sex, and even a 10 min session rises his mood for a little and helps to calm down, it may be penetration, oral or dry humping. The only bad thing about quickies is if he picks the last option, blue-haired is supposed to spend the rest of the day with his pants full of cum

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Mafioso enjoys having car sex, and it definitely means something. It’s not about public places like park or crowded beach, but semi-public places as club restroom or dressing room are always on the list

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Ghiaccio may last for a lot of rounds, 5 or 10, it all depends on his mood, but every round doesn’t last for long - 5-8 mins in general. But he also can go for 2-3 make out sessions during a day, each of them may consist of 5 rounds

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Ghiaccio prefers doing everything with his own hands (especially fingers hehehe), so his collection of toys starts and ends with two different-sized gags

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s really into orgasm denial, but only on his partners. If they try to tease him, well, it definitely won’t end up well for them

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ghiaccio has really dirty mouth, so he won’t shut up, degrading and insulting his partner to no end, calling them a whore and filthy slut, so greedy for his cock inside of them. Blue-haired also lets out quiet groans and swearings, but he never moans, thinking that it’s definitely not cool and manly

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Ghiaccio is terrified of the thought of accidentally making a baby, so at the age of 23 he got his vasectomy surgery. But he still uses condoms, mafioso cares for his health and perspective of getting HIV is definitely not that appealing

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Blue-haired is 5,5 inches when fully hard, slightly curved, head is a little bit pinker than the shaft, more on the thinner side. Totally smooth, a single vein pokes at the bottom part of the shaft, closer to the base

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

On the calm days Ghiaccio’s sex drive is normal, low you could say, he’s just living his best life, enjoying random simple things. But on hard days (which happened to be almost every day), mafioso tries his best to suppress his urge to kill everyone, so his yearning is really high

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Blue-haired feels a little bit sleepy after cumming, but Ghiaccio is not the one for sleeping after sex. He just zips his pants back up and continues doing whatever he was, just like nothing happened

Masterlist | Smut Masterlist

[sinsetcurve]

JATP FIC RECS

Oneshots-

All Those Little Moments- A series of the individual, chronological threads that make up the tapestry of the love of Julie and Luke.

It’s Always Been You (Even if it’s fake)- Julie Molina is not an idiot. She’s insanely smart and extremely talented. But, she does tend to do idiotic things. The most idiotic being telling her family that she's dating Luke Patterson and is bringing him home for spring break.

Ray and Rose and that Guy Trevor- Ray's POV on Rose's friendship with Trevor, through the years. (In which Trevor is kind of guilty but also kind of innocent.)

Head Over Knees- That one time Alex had an existential crisis over his knees.

Wrap Me Up- Julie is absolutely miserable. She’s caught a nasty flu and is so busy pretending to be fine that she’s totally pushed away everyone who could be taking care of her. Luckily Luke is more than prepared to step in.

Promises Kept- This is a missing scene from the fic We Found Wonderland. You need to read that first to really understand what's going on here. This cover's Luke's reactions to major events towards the end of We Found Wonderland.

I’m Still Breathing- Julie has asthma and when he was alive Reggie did, too. So, Reggie helps her out and cements himself as her big brother.

I’ll Love you There, Too- In her heart, Julie knew that Luke was going to propose eventually, she just didn’t know that it would be so soon, or how nervous he really was to do it.

This Hurt that I’m Holding’s Gettin’ Heavy-When Carlos got home from school Tuesday afternoon, he wasn’t expecting to find one of Julie’s bandmates in his bedroom, studying his bookshelf.

Come Again Bright Days- Julie and Luke haven’t spoken since they graduated from high school. But one night during their senior year of college, they find themselves in the exact same bar for the exact same reason: they were dragged there by their friends in an attempt to make them feel better after their respective break ups.

But Suddenly from somewhere out of the blue, I see a different light around you- Julie and Luke, family friends, end up sick together. While cooped up sick at Julie’s, a little conversation leads to a lot of secrets.

Like You Could Love Me- Julie hadn't slept in almost 48 hours. Luke was waiting for her on the porch when she gets home. Exhaustion + unspoken feelings and things are about to get interesting.

Not So Secret Relationship- Alex and Willie have been secretly dating for about a month and they've had yet to tell their friends about it. Alex decided he's finally ready to come clean to them.

There’s one thing on my mind- home didn't seem like home anymore for luke patterson, and so he was desperate to find a new place to write music. after an especially brutal fight with his mother, he finds himself in front of l.a. books. he isn't expecting to get much out of it, it was solely a last resort. but then he sees her, julie molina, and he ends up coming back every week just to keep seeing her. bookstore au

I’m Gonna pop some tags- Alex thinks working at Julie's family's thrift shop over the summer is going to be a good way to make money while also hanging out with his friends. Good. Easy. Fun. He isn't prepared for the skater who ran him over to be Ray's new hire.

Always- Luke is in love with Julie, and she loves him too. But it's not meant to be, he's been dead 25 years and she has a whole life to live. He wants to know why they can't just rewrite the stars, and eventually she finds a way.

He’s a little into it- Willex Hockey AU where Willie and Alex are on opposite teams.

Do a Kickflip!-It's Spring 1995, and Julie wants to spend some time at the new skate park. Unbeknownst to her, five boys are waiting to turn her summer (and life) for the better. Or! 5 times Julie ran into Sunset Curve, and 1 time she met with them intentionally.

Multi-Chaptered-

This is Where I want to Be- Luke is going through heaven and hell in his life and things take a turn when a especial someone drops unannounced into his life making him question his sanity. OR: Luke has a wicked beauty as his guardian angel and loses his mind

I’ve Got This Crazy Feeling This Isn’t our First Time Around- One second he is rocking the night away, the next he wakes up bloodied and battered in an alleyway. Found by a frantic curly-haired girl, he comes to realise nothing makes sense. He doesn't know where he is, who she is or how he got there, but one thing's for sure: It's not 1995 anymore.

Walk a Mile in my Doodled Shoes-The one where the boys use their newfound possession abilities to help Julie out of jams.

If I was you (I’d wanna be me too)- When Carrie wakes up, the morning after Julie and the Phantoms play the Orpheum, her father is gone. When her father has a breakdown, Carrie is forced to move in with Julie's family, and must confront some uncomfortable truths - about her family, her life, and herself. A house full of ghosts just comes with the package.

Time Of Our Lives- Alex, Reggie and Luke have been given an unexpected new chance at life. Will they fulfil their dreams this time?

We Found Wonderland- At the end of season one Julie isn’t able to save the boys and they are jolted out of existence. But what if there was another way? Julie finds herself back in 1995 with a chance to stop the boys of Sunset Curve from ever dying at all. But will she able to find her way home afterwards? Will she want to? Or has Alice really gone down the rabbit hole this time...

Midnight at Mona’s- Julie Molina expected many things on her impromptu road trip to Texas. She expected Flynn to be confused but ultimately supportive; she expected to relax and gain a new perspective; and she expected (or at least hoped) to rediscover the music she’d lost over the past year. What she did not expect was to be bunking with cranky rancher Luke Patterson, or the mysterious (and quite possibly magical) karaoke bar that would lead them on an adventure full of new friends, dangerous enemies, fun music, and a whole lot of love.

How Wonderful Life is While You’re in the World- Red, White & Royal Blue but Willex.

Our Life is a Playlist- They were best friends, they were family, and Julie had come to believe that they were soulmates. By the time the kids had turned thirteen, life had started teaching them the hardest lessons.

That’s Life- Julie Molina feels invisible most of the time. So what happens when she finds herself unexpectedly "married" to her handsome, popular, longtime-crush, Luke Patterson? She is about to find out. When she and Luke are randomly paired up to work on a project together for their Reproductive Health class, they have to learn to navigate the world of adulthood side-by-side for better or worse. All while dealing with the reality and drama of high school. Julie quickly discovers she's not as invisible as she once thought she was, especially to Luke. Does extra time spent together mean sparks will finally fly between them, or will it all go up in flames?

Don’t forget to support authors by commenting on their works

[tails89]

No Place I'd Rather Be

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz

1.5k words

Summary:

“Bucky's my favourite,” Chris declares, then pauses, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “After you, dad.”

“He’s my favourite too.” Eddie says, gathering Chris up in a hug. “But you’re my most favourite.”

“I’m happy he gets to live with us. I hope he stays with us forever.”

Eddie stands up, stretching out his back as he rises. “Yeah, me too kiddo.”

Read on AO3 (or below)

Eddie silences the alarm that blares, sighing softly as a quiet hush settles back over the room. He’d set it with the intention of getting up early and making the most of his morning, but now that the it has actually arrived, all he wants is to curl back into the warmth at his side and go back to sleep.

He may as well enjoy it. He’s probably got ten minutes, if that, before Chris is up and crashing through the house in search of breakfast. Eddie has no idea how one kid makes so much noise and can’t wait for the teenage years everyone keeps warning him about; sometimes he thinks he wouldn’t mind a kid who sleeps in past eight AM.

Curling his arms around the warm body beside him, Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Buck’s curly head.

“You need to get up.”

“You need to get up.” Buck rolls over, pulling the quilt up over his head. “I don’t need to do anything, it’s my day off.”

Propping himself up on an elbow, Eddie drags the covers back down.

“You were the one who promised Chris a trip to the zoo,” he reminds his boyfriend. “And pancakes beforehand.”

“It’s the asscrack of dawn, Eddie,” Buck whines, squinting up at him. “The zoo doesn’t open for hours. This is inhumane. Moving in with you was a terrible mistake.”

Eddie laughs. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Right on cue he can hear the click of Chris’ crutches down the hallway. If they’re lucky, Chris will turn on the TV and they’ll get another twenty minutes before he comes begging for breakfast. A few minutes later, the sound of Chris's favourite morning cartoons echo up from the living room.

“Nope, no more sleeping,” Eddie teases, noticing Buck’s eyes have drifted shut again.

“’m not sleeping.”

“Really?” Eddie leans over pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth. “Are you sure?” He trails his lips down along Buck’s jaw, smirking when Buck turns his head towards him, ducking to capture Eddie’s mouth and draw him into a long lazy kiss.

Kissing Buck was always a rush; it leaves Eddie dizzy and breathless and desperate for more. He doesn’t pull away until it feels like his lungs will burst and even then, Buck follows, pressing soft kisses into the hollow of Eddie’s throat.

“You better not be starting something you can’t finish, Diaz,” Buck whispers, his breath hot against Eddie’s skin.

“Oh, you’ll finish alright, Buckley.”

~~

They pile into Eddie’s car after breakfast, Buck and Chris chatting a mile a minute about what they want to see first and ranking their favourite zoo animals.

“—but you don’t have to see everything in order,” Buck points out. “We can go and see your favourites first.”

“But they’re all my favourites,” Chris says. “And if we start at the start we know we won’t miss anything. I want to see all the animals.”

They keep up their friendly, teasing bickering the whole way too the zoo and Buck is still trying to convince Chris to start at the otters when Eddie pulls into a parking space and cuts the engine.

Chris ultimately wins. He always does, he’s got Buck completely wrapped around his finger. Eddie’s waiting for the day Buck will have to tell his son no and stand by it—there will probably be tears, most likely from Buck. Fortunately today is not that day.

They buy their tickets and head on in, studying the map.

“Australian animals are first,” Eddie says, pointing off to the left. “It says here you can buy feed for the kangaroos.”

“Did you know koala’s can get chlamydia?” Buck says conversationally as they follow the path down towards the enclosures.

“What? No, I did not know that,” Eddie says, glancing towards Chris who has got ahead of them. “How do you know that?”

Buck shrugs. “Chris had that assignment on animals native to other countries, remember? I think I read about it then.”

“Sure, because that comes up in a fifth grade assignment,” Eddie says and Buck flushes. He’d probably fallen down the Wikipedia rabbit hole. Again. “So what else do you know about koala bears?”

“They’re not bears, dad.” Chris has stopped to wait for them at the entrance to the themed enclosure.

“Yeah, Eddie.” Buck mirrors Chris’s tone exactly. “They’re marsupials. Right, Chris?”

Chris nods enthusiastically.

“Look,” he shouts, pointing to the sign in the exhibit. “You can get photos with them. Can we? Please.”

“Yeah, buddy. Let’s do it.” Buck digs into his pocket for his wallet.

“You want to get a photo with one?” Eddie asks, incredulously. “After you just told me they all had STIs?”

“Just the wild ones,” Buck promises. He gestures for Chris to lead them onward. “Actually, it’s a massive problem, there’s just like, one place left where they’re not infected.”

“Oh.”

~~

They get a photo of the three of them crowded around the koala. The small grey animal- marsupial?- sleeps through the whole thing but Chris is ecstatic, excitedly telling Buck that they were this close to a real live Australian animal.  

He loses his mind when they feed the kangaroos and laughs at Buck who cowers behind Eddie when they come across the emus. The giant birds are behind a fence, but one of them manages to snatch the map out of Buck’s hands.

“It’s not funny,” Buck grumbles. “Those things are terrifying. Look at their eyes, they remember being dinosaurs.”

 Eddie laughs and wraps an arm around Buck's waist. “They’re flightless birds, how bad can they be?”

Buck looks Eddie, his face serious. “Look up the emu war some time Eds, and tell me if it doesn’t change your perspective a little.”

“Wait, there was an emu war?” Chris asks. “Who won?”

Buck’s lips twitch. “The emus.”

~~

By the time they’ve seen the primate exhibits Chris is getting tired, so Eddie decides it’s time to stop for lunch.

He puts Buck in charge of finding them a picnic table while he takes Chris up to order food.

“Are you having a good day, mijo?”

“Yep, it’s the best,” Chris tells him beaming. “We should come back next weekend.”

“I’m working next weekend,” Eddie reminds him as they make their way to the front of the queue. “Maybe another time?”

“Or, maybe Buck could bring me?” Chris looks up at his dad with an expression of such hope, it’s clear why Buck can never say no to him. It’s a look that makes Eddie’s heart swell with love and joy.

“You’ll have to ask him.”

There had been a small part of him that had worried that Buck moving in, becoming a more permanent fixture in their lives and taking on some of the responsibilities of living with a child, would cause some tension. The dynamic shift from fun best friend to potential step-parent was a tricky one, but Buck and Chris seemed to have both taken it in stride.

“Hey, Chris.” Eddie crouches so that he’s level with his son. “I’m really glad you like spending time with him.”

“Bucky's my favourite,” Chris declares, then pauses, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “After you, dad.”

“He’s my favourite too,” Eddie says, gathering Chris up in a hug. “But you’re my most favourite.”

“I’m happy he gets to live with us,” Chris says. “I hope he stays with us forever.”

Eddie stands up, stretching out his back as he rises. “Yeah, me too kiddo.”

~~

They return to Buck with a tray loaded up with burgers and fries and drinks. He’s found a table for them in a shady spot overlooking the giraffes, and he waves them over when he spots them.

After lunch they carry on, taking the park train around to the big cats, arriving just in time to watch the talk about tigers.

Chris gets chosen as a volunteer to hold a chicken wing with a pair of tongs through the fence. The zoo keeper helps him hold it steady while Buck and Eddie take a hundred photos of his beaming smile.

It’s getting late by the time they make their way back to the entrance of the zoo. Chris is exhausted so Buck gives him a piggyback ride towards the gift shop, while Eddie follows carrying Chris’s crutches.

“Don’t forget the photo, Dad,” Chris shouts as they’re about to head out the exit.  He nudges Buck to turn around but Eddie waves at them to keep going.

“You guys wait outside; I’ll go grab it.”

He turns back towards the counter and waits while the attendant searches the computer for the photo.

“Here it is.” She brings it up on the screen so Eddie can see. “You’ve already paid for one copy, you want any more?”

Eddie ends up purchasing a second copy, thinking it might be something his abuela would like.

“Here.” The girl hands over the packet with their photos. “You have an adorable family.”

Eddie glances down at the photo then across towards the exit. He can see Buck and Chris sitting just outside. Chris is telling a story, his hands gesturing wildly as he talks and Buck is laughing along loudly.

“Yeah, I do.”

[unholyhelbig]

Title: Centerfold

Ship: Beca Mitchell/ Chloe Beale

She heard it before she saw it, the incessant chattering of her male coworkers. It was the same every single morning; a bunch of men with half-suits, or suit jackets, or loose ties, standing around a coffee machine that whirred and sputtered. They didn’t’ have a literal water cooler, but Beca knew if they did, they would be swarming like gnats to honey-soaked bread.

“Look what I have?” Jason said.

“Oh, shit dude,” Rick said.

Beca clenched the corner of the fridge tighter and leaned into the cold scent of cheese and half-rotted vegetables. She scanned the Tupperware containers that were stacked liked Tetris and tried to hear them over the hum of the Maytag. It was hard, but not impossible.

“She is… well, she is magnificent.”

She. Well, that didn’t’ narrow anything down. It could be a boat or a car or even a damn pool noodle. Anything that they could objectify and name and own. And really it was just as degrading as it sounded but in this case, they seemed to be talking about a magazine. A playboy that had the back folded over.

Her fellow Coders leaned with their backs to the coffee machine, each in pale button-downs, each practically drooling over whatever page they had turned to. Beca clenched her jaw and let the fridge fall shut with a muffled bang. Not muffled enough to keep her usually unnoticed presence under wraps.

They looked like well-groomed deer in headlights.

Jason snatched the magazine from his counterpart and hid it behind his back. Color blossomed against his cheeks and he started to squirm. “Nothing,”

“Nothing? Because it looks like a porn magazine to me.” She held her hand out and flexed her fingers. It was the universal sign for wanting him to hand over whatever wasn’t there. He eyed her suspiciously, then looked at Rick, then back at Beca before he shoved it forward.

She smiled and flipped right to the page that they were gawking at. Because not only did she feel kind of excluded from a mostly male office, but she also liked the deflated expressions that Rick and Jason wore like masks.

The picture was a mostly modest one if you didn’t count the placement of the woman. Most of this stuff was online now and it was rare to see a magazine in the first place. But this dawned a classic centerfold image of a woman. Her legs spread and the part that kept everyone guessing cut expertly with the spine. There was tan skin and curly russet hair, hand fingers dawned in gold rings.

She lifted an eyebrow because this was the thing her coworkers were gawking at? Not even a full picture. But it was enough to get them embarrassed and aroused and she never really understood why. Her eyes flicked down to the corner; in neat cursive writing, sat a name. Chloe Beale.

Beca had to stifle a cough, more of a choke after her throat dried entirely. She had to keep a cool face, but some red color must have gotten to her cheeks because now Jason was grinning like a fool again. He shoved his elbow into Rick’s arm.

“Nice, huh?”

“Yeah,” Beca croaked. She shut the magazine “Mind if I keep this? Just for a bit?”

Rick spoke to his friend “I mean sure, just don’t forget to lock the bathroom door behind you.”

Beca fought the urge to roll her eyes, but she did anyway. “Yeah, whatever.”

She tucked the magazine under her arm and left the breakroom then. There was a cacophony of typing and she nodded at a few people that offered her smiles as she walked towards her corner office. She beckoned her assistant as she walked with her free hand and closed the door behind them.

They had given her the space for “Human Relations” but the main reason for the privacy lay in the fact that Beca knew how to calmly talk down anyone, except for herself. She would have them leaving with a smile and a feeling of accomplishment even if she spun the bad news about sales in a different way. It was all about perspective, and right now her perspective was in shambles.

Emily closed the door behind them and stood there expectantly. She watched as Beca drew the blinds on the windows leading towards the office. She paced a few times, magazine in hand before stopping and staring at her assistant.

“Are you going to fire me?” Emily asked “Because if you are, just rip the bandage off Beca. I can take it.”

“I’m not going to fire you, Em”

There was a thick sigh of relief. It didn’t’ last long. Beca turned the page to the centerfold image once more and shoved it towards her friend. She frowned at it for a moment. “Oh?”

It took Emily the same amount of time to figure out the caption. She had turned the magazine vertically, her deep eyes widening and her mouth forming a thin line. “Oh! Oh my god.”

“It’s Chloe,”

“Your Chloe.”

Yes, her Chloe. Not anymore- it had been years since they had seen each other and even more time since they had spoken more than two sentences. But Beca didn’t’ think her childhood flame would turn towards nude modeling, and she didn’t’ figure that she would be the watercooler discussion of the day.

Her blood was running cold and she had to sit down. Instead, she settled for leaning against the edge of the desk and squeezing the bridge of her nose. She didn’t’ want to look at it, she didn’t’ want to think about her first girlfriend posing like that.

I mean- Chloe had every right to do so but that didn’t’ make her jaw drop any higher. “She looks nice,”

“Not helping, Emily.”

“Sorry, it’s just” The girl threw the magazine back on the desk. “You should reach out to her. The two of you… God the two of you had everything. There wasn’t’ one kid who didn’t idolize what you had.”

Beca nodded. She knew that, to a certain degree. They had met in middle school and stayed together until College. God, college was an absolute dampener and long-distance didn’t’ work for anyone, not even the strongest of people. They had been named homecoming queens both Junior and Senior year, only to break up on Beca’s porch in the stifling summer heat months later.

Emily the wide-eyed freshmen, the innocent friend. The one who Beca went to when she needed cheering up. They mixed all the flavors of Slurpee together at the local 7/11 and made something they called the Frankenice. It was stupid and tasted horrible but it made her feel better, and then it made her feel worse enough to throw up on the sidewalk.

That was years ago, and they had grown into adults. Beca didn’t’ try to contact Chloe, but she did look up her socials in vain. She was pretty; gorgeous and interesting and nothing ever hinted towards this. Not that it was bad and not that she disapproved of the lifestyle, but it made her ache. It made her regret not reaching out sooner. And that made her want to throw the magazine across the room.

“Wouldn’t it be kind of… I don’t know, obvious if I message her right after this thing printed?”

“Half the city is probably messaging her right now,” Emily blew air out of her nose but settled at the pointed glare she received “Look- she probably misses you. You guys didn’t end on bad terms, right? Just not ideal ones.”

Beca rounded her desk and flopped down in her chair. She pulled open her laptop, not blinking an eye when Emily pressed against her back and stared as she pulled open the tab for Instagram. She typed in Chloe Beale and her profile popped up along with four or five fan accounts for her. And Beca had been stupid not to do this before.

They pulled up her feed and Beca felt like she was intruding, but she wasn’t. This was a public and popular profile with pictures of Chloe in bikinis smiling widely and then a few of her at the mansion itself. But most were just joyous and filled her with warmth. She clicked on the messages, open to the public. She typed something and let it linger.

Emily scoffed, hitting the back of the chair. “Hey?... Really? That’s what you’re going with? What are you, Ten?”

“Okay, okay! What would you write?”

“Move please,” Emily shoved Beca to the side and spoke while her fingers worked against the keyboard. “Hey Chloe, how have you been? I know we haven’t spoken in years, but I would love to catch up. If you’re ever in New York, we should grab a drink or coffee.”

She sent it before Beca could object about it being too formal, or not formal enough. Emily shut the laptop and stood back. She was proud of herself and wore the smile that showed it. “Don’t touch that until tomorrow. Play hard to get even though you’re the one initiating conversation.”

“I-“

“No buts, even if she messages back right now, you don’t touch. No.” Emily pointed a finger at her. “I know how this works, I’m still in the dating scene.”

“And I’m not?” Beca asked incredulously

“Please,” Emily scoffed “if you were, you wouldn’t have a magazine with Chloe as the Centerfold.”

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Sweet Pandemonium - Gally (The Maze Runner) Part 13 of 16

Posting this bonus chapter just cause y’all had to wait so long. Eat up kiddos, cause it’s gonna be even longer until the next update 🙃

~~~~~~~~~~

(Flashback)

Awakening with a sudden jolt, Gally immediately feels a sharp pain in his chest and a dark spot in his mind that he felt where memories should be, but even his strong willpower couldn’t recall anything that happened.

In fact, he didn’t even know where he was...

Gally tried sitting up, but a hand suddenly held him down. 

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t. You’re still recovering.”

Gally looked to his side to see a man, no older than 20, he figured, but life and circumstances caused his face to look worn and beaten down.

“Who the hell are you? Where am I? What’s going on?” Gally roughly had a dozen more questions, but he was cut short by the male to his right abruptly covering his hand over his mouth.

“Chill out, man.” The guy said, but Gally quickly ripped the hand away, trying to sit up once more. “Seriously, dude, don’t. You’re gonna tear the wound if you keep at it.”

Gally’s defined eyebrows furrowed, looking down to realize he was shirtless, a large white gauze covering his left peck. “What...?”

“You were in pretty bad shape when we found you, a gaping hole in your chest. Good news is that the spear missed your heart, but you just have to function with one lung. But I’d say it’s a pretty good tradeoff for the price of staying alive. But hey, that’s just me.”

Gally tried to wrap his mind around what this stranger was saying. He couldn’t remember what happened to him, it was all static.

“Oh, right, you don’t remember squat. My bad.” The man laughed.

Gally had just about enough of this jokester. He suddenly grabbed ahold of the male by the collar of his shirt, trying his best to seem intimidating while still being in a lot of pain.

“Tell me what the hell is going on, piece of shuck, or I’ll snap your shucking neck!” Gally seethed.

The male smirked, only adding more fuel to the fire of Gally’s rage. But it soon didn’t matter, as the world around him started to darken once more. From the corner of his eye, he saw the man holding a syringe. Gally would’ve indeed snapped the man’s shucking neck if only he wasn’t drugged.

“Now, we’re gonna try this again later. Next time, try not to be so hostile when you wake up. Kay? Thanks.”

And next time Gally woke up, it wasn’t with a jolt, but he was still frustrated that he had no idea where he was and what happened.

“You seem more calm.”

Gally could’ve rolled his eyes, but he waited until he saw the man’s face. “Do you get off watching people while they’re unconscious or something?”

The man only smirked. Gally sensed a common theme with this guy. “No, actually. You’re not really my type.” He said, closing a book he was holding and sat it down on a bedside table. “Just doing some light reading.”

“While watching over me it seems.”

“Not like I had any choice.”

Gally scowled. He scanned the room he was in, and he definitely wasn’t in the Glade anymore. The room looked worn, but well made, obviously not made of wood. It looked like some sort of plaster, peeling off around the edges. And he was laying on a bed, but not one made of hay and stick that could easily break apart.

“Where am I? Who-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” The man interrupted, making Gally huff and lightly bang his head against the pillow underneath him. “All your questions will be answered soon...maybe. Depends on if Lawrence decides to keep you alive.”

“What?” Gally almost shouted, trying to sit up in a panic, but found that he was unable even without someone else forcing him down. He was strapped to his bed.

“Ash, shut it. You’re scarin’ the poor boy to death.”

Gally snapped his head to the door, a shadowy figure in the frame.

“What? I can’t have a little fun?” The young man, who’s name was apparently Ash, teased.

The shadowy figure stepped into the room, the lamp light on the right of Gally illuminating the other man’s face. He was older, clearly, but what caused Gally’s blood to run cold was the fact that he didn’t have a nose. He looked like something a Griever would spit up honestly.

“Something caught your eye, boy?” The older man’s gruff voice echoed around the mostly empty room. Gally quickly looked away, casting his gaze downward. But he just got even more confused when the man started laughing. “I can see why you like him.” He directed to Ash.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell going on?” Gally snapped, well, pretty much begged.

The man’s easy going attitude turned ice cold when Gally spoke. “Let’s get one thing straight. We ask the questions first, you answer honestly, and we won’t have a problem. Clear?”

Gally refrained from snapping at the older man once more, but he nodded silently.

The man smiled, clapping loudly. “Good! Good. So, first thing: what’s the name?”

“Gally.” He answered monotone, trying not to roll his eyes.

“Well, you obviously don’t know where you are. But do you know what happened before you got here?”

Gally felt the urge to cry, for reasons unknown to himself. He also felt a sort of nostalgia, he remembered Alby and how similar this felt when he first arrived in the Box.

“The last thing I remember...” Your face flashed through his mind for a split second, it was fuzzy, but he could recognize you even if he was blind. But then, he finally remembered something that wasn’t so fuzzy. “I was in the Glade, and I left...”

“And that’s all you remember, just leaving this Glade?”

“Yep.”   

“My people said they found you in a W.C.K.D. compound, a spear in your chest and full of poison. A gun was in your hand, and a kid was shot down next to ya. Remember that?”

Gally felt like he could’ve had a heart attack. “A kid?” He stuttered. “Was it a girl?”

Please don’t be her...please don’t be her...

“Some chubby, curly haired kid apparently.” The man noticed how the boy’s face fell, looking relieved but self loathing at the same time. “Knew him, I take it?”

“...Chuck.” Gally didn’t know what to think. He’d never kill Chuck, he was just an innocent kid.

The man frowned, but looked to Ash. “Fix him some water.” He nodded, quickly obeying and leaving the room. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

The longer Gally was awake, more of his memories came flooding back, even some from before the Glade. But he remembered something that put things into perspective. “I was stung...how am I okay right now?”

“Yeah, you were. But thankfully, we don’t like W.C.K.D. too much and had some of their supplies already on hand when my guys found you.”

“Who exactly is we?”

“We call ourselves the Right Arm. We’re against W.C.K.D. and their methods of doing things. We got a team that saves kids like you and take them to a safe place.”

“My friends.” Gally interrupted. “They must’ve escaped. Did you guys take them?”

“We don’t know. Word don’t spread ‘round too fast when you’re constantly hiding from those techy bastards.”

Gally huffed once more. He just wanted to know if you were safe, that’s all. But no, he was stuck talking to Voldemort.

“Where am I then?”

“Denver.”

“Yeah, I have no idea where that is.”

“It’s right outside the Last City.” The man mused.

Gally felt like he knew the name, but he was pretty shit at geography considering he only remembered living in the Glade. And enough memories had resurfaced for him to know he wasn’t all smart in general. But the Last City part made his ears perk up.

“Wait...the Last City?”

The man smirked. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kid. I’m Lawrence.”

After learning pretty much everything he needed to know about the Right Arm, Gally felt he couldn’t leave, not after learning what W.C.K.D. did and was still doing to innocent kids like him.

Ben was dead, Alby was dead, Zart and countless others that were Gally’s friends who have died because of W.C.K.D. He killed Chuck, and he knew he could never atone for that. So, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave to some haven when that messed up company were still making all the calls, killing kids and sending them into dangerous tests in the name of science.

He couldn’t leave without knowing if you were alive or not. 

When he finally found out that you were indeed alive, that you were trapped with Minho, he finally felt that he had a mission. Something extremely important to him. A mission that he knew he could lay his life down for if need be. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t try.

So when he finally found you again, you were safe in his arms, he felt complete. He felt happiness that he hadn’t felt in his whole life.

When he realized he had to let you go, just one more time with the threat of you getting hurt, he could’ve broke down and he almost did. He wanted a 100 percent guarantee that you would be okay, but couldn’t have one. Not even your words of almost reassurance, it didn’t ease his nerves at all.

So he held you tight, so badly wanting to keep you, but he knew he couldn’t. You wouldn’t allow it when Minho was waiting on the group.

He was forced to see you walk away from him...again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Spain without the S