#hmm not sure how I feel about the pacing of the second half

[xiayannie]

𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 24𝐓𝐇 — 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬! ღ

↳ scaramouche

you happened to get stuck in a suggestive manner, and scaramouche can't resist helping himself have his way with you before he gets you out

cw(s): afab! fem! reader, cliché trope, lingerie, bows, doggystyle, cum, he calls you a slut and whore, hinting of a blow job and long night near the end | 𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

"I'm home."

SCARAMOUCHE let out a sigh, feeling relaxed now that he was home, but suspicious as soon as he didn't hear a "welcome home!" from you.

he wandered to the living room, quirking up a brow at the unusual and amusing sight.

there was a comical red and green Christmas themed gift box in the middle of the room, slightly ajar as your bottom half was left hanging outside of the box, your ass in full display for SCARAMOUCHE to see.

he came up behind you and gave you a loving little tap on the bottom, surprising you as you let out a shocked squeak.

"what happened here, hmm?"

"...I wanted to try getting into the box to surprise you, but the lid of the box is heavier than I thought... and now, I'm trapped here."

"help me out, would you?" the sound was a bit muffled, but scaramouche for sure, heard you.

"what do I get in return? there's no more surprise left for me with you stuck here like this." he hummed, grasping your hip.

"how about I get my present early, and then I let you out?" SCARAMOUCHE purred, lightly slapping your ass, caressing it afterwards.

"...fine. just don't ruin my lingerie or any—" riiip!

"oops."

SCARAMOUCHE already ripped the flimsy and thin fabric off, tossing it aside with a cocky grin, you imagined. "I'll buy you better and prettier sets, love."

SCARAMOUCHE rubbed his fingers against the lips of your cunt, spreading the lips and letting out a whistle as he felt and watched his digits get coated with your wet arousal. "so wet already," he murmured, feeling his cock strain against his clothing.

"makes me think you wanted this to happen, no?"

before you could deny it, he plunged his middle and ring finger into your warmth, thrusting and curling the tips of his fingers slightly. you let out a small whine, kicking your legs to protest his sudden ministrations, but another finger quickly shut you up.

a soft whimper left your lips as his fingers abruptly left your cunt, but you let out a loud squeak when he thrusted his cock inside. SCARAMOUCHE gave you a second before he started to thrust, his palms turning white as he gripped onto the plush of your ass.

"s-shit baby... this was the best gift you could've given me." SCARAMOUCHE reached impossibly deeper somehow, his tip fucking right into your cervix, causing you to cry out from inside of the box. "driving me crazy... what were you thinking, dressing up all pretty like a whore with your ass sticking out?"

"no way you expected me to not go and have my way with you..." he bit his lip, throwing his head back slightly as he panted. "dirty fuckin' slut... your plan was to pretend to get stuck, huh?"

the huge gift box shifted slightly with his movements, his hips rutting at an animalistic pace. SCARAMOUCHE felt his cock twitch, and your walls squeeze and flutter around his length. you tried to voice out to him that you were close but the sound was slightly muffled. besides, he already knew once your legs started to tremble.

he reached around to rub circles on your clit, murmuring incoherently to you.

"..c'mon, cum for me...'wanna see you squirt allllll over my cock, pretty girl." SCARAMOUCHE hummed, and you could imagine the shit eating grin that was plastered on his lips.

you whined, not being able to do anything besides chant his name out like a mantra. "s-scara... scara, scara, scaaara...!"

"ngh...! u-uwaaah...! 'm cumming, ...!!" the last few calls of his name from your lips came out slurred, as your climax was mindblowing, your legs spazzing, and eyes rolling to the back of your head as your mouth hung wide open. "that's it... g-good girl, h-haah.." SCARAMOUCHE continued to grind his hips further into yours, allowing you to ride out your high, as well as allow for him to reach his high.

SCARAMOUCHE moaned out profanities, his thick ropes of cum shooting deep inside you, making you feel warm and filled as you let out small whimpers from the shallow thrusts that he kept up.

feeling overstimulated, you came again, the walls of your cunt fluttering weakly around his cock. he let out a groan at this, his hips stopping once he pulled out and thrusted back in deeply one last time.

he pulled out, watching his seed ooze out of your cunt, which was clenching around nothing, due to the absence of his cock.

with a swift movement, SCARAMOUCHE lifted the lid up easily. he hoisted you out of the box by your waist, and then he plopped you down gently on the couch.

your makeup was slightly smudged and messed up, but it added to the charm, SCARAMOUCHE thought. his dick, which was soft, immediately stiffened up at the sight of you, all dolled up and pretty for him. the lingerie cutely cupping your plush boobs and accentuating all of your curves.

"fuckin' hell..." SCARAMOUCHE whispered underneath his breath as his eyes followed the way you slowly crawled towards him.

your expression feigned innocence, eyes sparkling as you blinked up at him through your lashes.

"how about I give you the rest of your present?" you smiled coyly, gently jerking his cock in your hand, guiding it towards your mouth.

"...how naughty of you." SCARAMOUCHE shakily sighed out as he felt your lips encase his sensitive and cute pink tip. his hand made its way to your head to guide you, his fingers gripping onto your hair lightly as he stared down at you with half lidded eyes.

"mhm. aren't you glad of how convenient it was that I was stuck there...?" you purred, winking at him.

"you slut... but whatever, it was a-ah..! the best gift I could've asked for."

[paegei]

RISKY

pairing - hoshi x afab!reader

summary - being vernon's hairstylist has its few obstacles... like your boyfriends sex drive.

a/n - lord... second attempt at writing smut ＞︿＜ also a v short fic...

NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !

SMUT warnings under the cut !

SMUT warnings: semi-public sex (dressing room...), attempted quiet sex, unprotected sex (guys pls be safe), breeding kink, creampie, marking, pet names (babe, soonie, pretty thing, baby, love), soonyoung calls you a slut and whore ╯︿╰, getting caught having sex...

today had been… hectic to say the least.

jun and vernon had ended up arriving late due to traffic, dokyeom, being dokyeom, ripped his pants directly at his ass, due to being unable to sit still. and the biggest problem in your eyes, a horny hoshi.

soonyoung and you had been sneaking around behind the company’s back for the better half of a year now. despite his inability to keep his mouth closed, your relationship had yet to be exposed, even to the other members.

during late night pillow talk, soonyoung would complain about the members asking him to ask you out, ironic considering your already laying in his bed, his cum leaking out of you. all this says to you is that you need to make your obvious attraction, less obvious. that, however, is proving to be very difficult with the situation you’re in.

seventeen's waiting room had been reduced to chaos. stylists running around, desperately trying to find dk another outfit, jun and vernon only having just arrived, their makeup artists rushing through their regular procedure. and now, vernon’s hair stylist & hoshi were nowhere to be found.

soonyoung’s hand was covering your mouth, a, fairly lame, attempt to quiet down the noises that were escaping your kiss swollen lips. it’s not your fault you can’t shut up, not when soonyoung is fucking into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever have you cunt wrapped around him.

you're not sure how long he's been plunging into your heat, obviously long enough to have your mind slipping from between your fingers, but with his dancer hips and stamina ? he can do that within seconds.

“f-fuck babe. so fucking tight. just for me yeah ?” his words were punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust, a puff of air following each syllable he said. his pace was animalistic at best, torturous at worst.

“yes fuck ! just for you ! only for you soonie ! fuck please !” your voice was muffled by his hand, damp with the drool escaping your mouth. your pleas were met with a rumbling growl, his hips snapping somehow harder. his hand was a futile attempt to keep your location unknown, as the slapping of skin on skin in the dressing room was deafening, as well as the wet squelches each time him cock breached your walls.

his head had fallen into the crevice of your neck, his lips continuing the path they had taken earlier. his biting on spots that were sore from his previous actions made you scream into his palm. you could feel his smirk on your neck. the feeling caused you to wrap your legs around his back, heels pressing in to try a get him deeper, get you fuller.

the hand that had been resting on your waist moves up, abusing your chest. “my little slut hmm ? just can’t get enough of my dick huh ? my- fuck- good little whore.” his words were breathy, and the sound made you clench around him, just making him release more of those sounds. it was a vicious cycle but one you never wanted to end.

���soon- soon- please, fuck i- fuck please !”

“my cock fucking you so good ? fucked you dumb, pretty thing ?”

“soonie please- right there !”

“fuck so perfect for me baby. so fucking warm.”

the squelching had gotten louder, his grunts were becoming more consistent. your hips were tilting down to meet his thrusts, so close to reaching your peak. he could tell from the fluttering of your walls, suffocating his cock.

“you close baby ?” his head lifts up from your neck, to look into your fucked out eyes. not being able to form words from the intense pleasure, you simply nodded your head. you’re eyes were boring into his, begging for release.

“y-yeah me too love. squeezing me so tight i can’t help it.”

his hips no longer held a rhythm, just sloppy pumps into your depths, chasing his climax. his low grunts had become breathier, whiner. he removed his hand to smash his lips onto yours, your tongues dancing as your whines mixed together. his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit.

“please- please let me cum. soonie-“

“shhh babe i got you. let go for me. cream on my cock love”

after his permission reached your ears, your mouth dropped open, soonyoung licking into it. your thighs were shaking around his hips, as your back arches, eyes rolling back.

he continues his powerful thrusts to help you ride out your orgasm, as well as chase his own.

“gonna cum, baby. fuck, squeezing me so tight. shit- where do you want me love ?”

his voice was desperate, his hips bucking wildly into yours, on the brink of his orgasm.

“inside ! soonie please !” there were tears in your eyes from the overstimulation, desperate to feel his cum inside you.

“gonna fill you up so good baby, pump you full of my cum- shit !”

his words were cut off, his lips crashing back into yours to muffle his whimpers. soonyoung had never had an orgasm this powerful. his cum was filling you up, painting your insides as his thighs trembled. the two of you were gripping each other so tight- tight enough for bruises to form on your hips, scratches down his back.

after he calms down, the two of you still. he was still buried deep within you, as you both panted into each others mouths.

“fuck… sorry. didn’t realise i’d cum that much” he shoots you his signature grin, one of humour & innocence, as if his cock wasn’t going soft inside your walls.

“‘ts okay, soonie.” you kiss him, softly this time. he begins to pull out, & you both hiss at the sensation. glancing down at his cum leaking out of you, his stuffs his fingers back in.

“gonna keep it all in for me ?”

“i don't know babe... you came a lot” you grinned up at him, both feeling giddy for getting away with this. or so you thought. as you leaned forward to share another kiss, a voice interrupts you.

“you guys done in there ?” it was seungcheols voice, his words drowned in disapproval.

“oh shit- yeah man ! be out… in a sec” his voice died down as his eyes met yours, pure fear in them.

“hurry up. because you just had to get your dick wet we only have 5 minutes before we’re on. get out here now.”

you hear his footsteps fade away, and you and hoshi lean into each other to hide your giggles.

“mkay… i gotta go love. you gonna be okay ?” his gaze was worried. aftercare was a big thing in your relationship, and you could tell he felt guilty about having to rush through it.

“i’ll be fine soonie, okay ? you go kill this stage” he helps you get dressed, shooting you one last look before booking it out of the room. you smile fondly at the sight, before the extent of what just happened dawns on you. the two of you were going to be in big trouble.

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Play Pretend

Jake Lockley x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Jake doesn't have much experience in more... intimate matters.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Okay, so I'm not super happy with this. I don't know. Anyway, I feel like I'm always saying this but my head is really bad with editing atm. I'm sure I've missed so many typos. I'm so sorry.

Warnings: set in Steven's flat (UK), swearing, loss of virginity, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), overuse of italics, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 4909

Jake shifted a little nervously as he rested his head on your chest, despite the comforting weight of your arm around him. 

He was half laying on you as you were sitting on the sofa, his feet resting on the armrest as you both watched… something on TV. You watched, Jake just couldn’t focus. Even though he normally adored being snuggled up on the settee next to you, savoured any time you both had together. 

He moved again, trying to keep it as minimal as possible so as to not bother you. Slowly he tensed and untensed his legs, switching it so that one was over the other and then back around again.

There was a deep heat growing at the base of his spine, an ache between his legs. He swallowed. Maybe he could excuse himself to the bathroom, rub one out quickly and then come back to your embrace without getting hard like a horny teenager just because you were close. 

It was embarrassingly really. How often this happened. Sometimes you didn’t even have to physically be around, just smelling your scent lingering around the flat was enough at times. The feel of your jumper in the wardrobe when it brushed against his hand as he got dressed in the morning. The photo of you and Marc at the park on the side table. That time Steven accidentally used your shower gel instead of his own. 

He shifted again. Maybe he could-

“You okay?” 

He jumps despite the softness of your voice and turns his head quickly to look at you, a little wide-eyed. “Yeah?” He answers a fraction too quickly to be considered ‘okay’. 

You give him a bemused smile. “You sure?” 

“Hmmhmm.” 

For a moment you pause, just cocking your head to the side ever so slightly as you regard him and Jack as to practically bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from groaning out loud. Why, oh why, did you have to look so adorable when you did that? 

“You need to sneak off to the bathroom?” You ask innocently, but there’s a telltale mischief to your eyes that makes Jake’s blood run cold. 

“I, erm, what are you talking about amor?” 

You gesture with your chin to his not-so-subtle budge in Steven’s sweatpants. 

“A…” He shifts again, thinking about grabbing a pillow to place over himself for a second before realising how silly that would be. You already knew what he was hoping to hide. “Maybe.” 

You smile and kiss his cheek. “That’s okay, you can go. I’m not gonna judge you. You know I don’t want you to sit here and be all uncomfortable.” 

“Hmm.” He gives you a small smile, a light dusting of pink highlighting his cheeks and the very top of his ears. “Sorry.” 

You frown a little and speak kindly. “What are you sorry for, silly?” You lightly stroke the shell of his right ear as you talk, just brushing your fingers along the outside and tucking a few errand curls behind it. 

He shivers. You know what you’re doing. 

“For…” He gestures to his crotch and you giggle. 

“I could…” You bite your lip a little a you speak and Jake pinches his thigh to keep control of himself. “Help you out with it? If you want?” There’s a little nervousness to your words, a worry of overstepping a boundary. 

While you had been physical with Marc and Steven for a while now, the most you had done with Jake had been to kiss and hold hands. Not that you minded. Jake was his own person and you wanted to go at his pace, take your time with the more intimate side of things. Or, never have that kind of relationship with him at all. You were just happy to spend time with him. 

He didn’t really like talking about that side of your relationship, and you didn’t want to push him. 

Jake’s blush grew darker. “I… erm…”

You resisted the urge to gently tease him about his loss for words. 

“I…” He closed his eyes, blurting out his words and screwing his face up afterwards. “I’m a virgin.” 

“Oh.” You said in surprise. That certainly wasn’t what you expected him to say. 

He opened his eyes quickly, a tense look of fear pinching at his features and you quickly realised your mistake. 

“No,” you say quickly as you reach out and stroke his hands, embracing them in your warmth. “I mean ‘oh’ as in, ‘oh, I didn’t think you were gonna say that’, not ‘oh, that’s a problem’.” 

The tension in his shoulders viably relaxed slightly and he gave you a weak smile. Looking down briefly at your hands and stroking your knuckles with his fingers. 

“So… you’ve never done anything… sexual before?” 

Your own tiptoeing around the word makes you wince. 

“Just sort of kissing, I guess.” He looks up to you with his large, soft eyes. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no, no,” you say quickly, “no at all just… yeah, surprising.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Well,” you nudge him playfully with your shoulder, “I don’t know if you know this, but you are very pretty.” 

Jake snorts, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told.”

You smile back at him before softly brushing his hair behind his ear again, savouring his little hiver. “You know we don’t have to do anything, right? There’s never any pressure, I want you to know that. I’m more than happy just to be with you like this. I love you, it doesn’t have to be physical.” 

He nuzzles into your hand, kissing your wrist. “I know,” he whispers, “and thank you, for saying it out loud I mean.” 

You stroke his cheek as he talks.

“It’s not that I don’t want to… and I know you’ve technically been with the body before, it’s just that…”  

You stay quiet as you caress his face, letting him take his time. 

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

As the last words leave his lips a little crack forms in your heart.

“You could never disappoint me, Jake.” 

He smiles but tuts. “You know what I mean… inexperienced isn’t exactly code for ‘giving their partner’s good time’, right?” 

“I’ll have a good time no matter what because I’m with you.” You give him a soft kiss and he smiles.

“That’s not what I mean Amor,” but he kisses you again. “Thank you though, it’s just…” he pauses, thinking carefully on how best to explain himself. Out of the three of them Jake is always the one who thinks most about what they say before they say it. “It’s just, I didn’t want to just… be with someone for the sake of it, I wanted it to be with… someone special, someone I care about. And now…”

“You’re still waiting for that someone special.” You nod solemnly as you tease. 

Jake glares at you playfully, ticking your side until you giggle and hold up your hands. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter between laughter. 

“You should be.” He leans close and lightly nips at your neck. “Be thankful that I’m in a forgiving mood.” 

You grin and kiss his nose. 

“You are my someone special,” he continues sincerely, “and I want it to be enjoyable for you, I want you to…” he trails off and looks down for a second. You can see that hint of a blush returning. 

“You want me to…?”

He bites his lip and swallows. “I want you to look and sound like you do with Marc and Steven.”

You smile cheekily. “You watch?” 

He avoids your gaze. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” 

“Almost all the time.” 

“Almost?” 

“99.9%.”

“What’s wrong with the .0?” You say, pretend indignation in your voice. 

“I’m sleeping.” 

His matter of fact tone takes you by surprise and you laugh loudly. 

“Fair enough.” You stroke his cheek again. 

“You don’t mind?” 

You shake your head. “Marc might. Maybe.” You shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m definitely not doing that.” 

“Steven won’t care.” 

Jake nods. “That’s true. Exhibitionist that one, for certain.” 

You laugh again and then pause as both of you look at each other for a long moment. 

“Why don’t we play pretend for a bit? Help you relax and get out of your head?” You ask.

He thinks for a moment before he opens his mouth, a smirk on his lips. “I think it’s called ‘role play’ amor.” 

You tut.

“All I’m saying is I shouldn’t be the one who knows more in this situation-” Jake yelps as you cut him off by tickling him this time. He jumps back from your reach and grins. “Unfair.” 

You poke your tongue out at him. 

Which he promptly returns before he smiles. “Alright, let's play pretend’.”  He sits up straight on the sofa, his hands neatly in his lap as he waits for your direction. 

You give him a brief suspicious look, Jake was never usually one to agree and behave without having some ulterior motive. 

“Alright,” you say a little suspiciously as you settle down next to him. “You can stop this at any point you want, okay?” 

Jake nods once. 

“Okay, so,�� you give him a little glance and see he’s listening intently. “I’m thinking, ‘where’s Jake the most comfortable?’”

“In bed.” He interrupts cheekily. 

You snort. “No. I was going to say, driving.”

“Driving’s not very comfortable.”

“Jake-”

“Not here anyway, roads are tiny.”

“Jake-”

“And everyone’s an asshole.”

“Okay, that’s true.”

He grins. 

“But, humour me, yeah?” 

He nods. “Consider yourself humoured.” 

“Alright, driving. So, we’re in the car, you're driving.”

“I’m on the wrong side.”

“Jake.”

“I’m on your left.”

“Well, we’re in America now.” 

“How did we get here?”

“Jake.”

“Did we fly?” 

“Jake.” 

“Marc’s gonna be pissed if we don’t get some pizza, I can tell you that-”

You shut him up by kissing him deeply. While it may not always be the most convenient method of silencing him, it certainly is the most effective. 

He kisses you back desperately, sinking into your embrace and bringing up his hand to lightly caress your cheek as you lick into his mouth. 

You know why he’s talking so much. The action so unlike Jake. He’s nervous. 

He moans softly as you pull back a fraction, trying to follow your lips. 

“I should really be keeping my eyes on the road.” He teases, his voice low and wrecked. 

“Well, it’s a good job we’re on the settee then, isn’t it?” You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer and pressing your lips back to his. 

You swallow down his softly whimpered moans and trail your hand down his chest. You keep the action slow, deliberate. So he has plenty of time to feel where you're headed, and to stop you if he wants. 

You lightly palm his erection through his jogging bottoms and he hisses in a breath, his hips bucking up towards your touch as he keeps kissing you. 

His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer as he trails his lips down to your jaw, pressing soft kisses along the bone before slipping further down to your neck. 

You press a little harder, running your hand up and down his clothed length and massaging his heavy balls. His cock twitches under your actions, warm and throbbing. 

Jake hisses in a breath, “please.” His voice is so quiet you almost can’t hear him, can distinguish his words from moans as he presses his lips to your skin and sucks lightly. 

You tangle your free hand in his hair, pulling lightly at the curls to make him whine as you hook your fingers under his waistband and pull his trousers down. 

Jake groans, squirming a little and lifting his hips quickly, grabbing hold of the material and yanking his boxers and jogging bottoms down to his knees, keeping his mouth at your neck the whole time. 

The heat coming off his skin almost burns. Even without seeing his face you know that deep blush is back, the one that spreads across his skin like ink and makes you lightheaded from desperation for him. 

Languidly you run the tip of your finger down his length, savouring the way his cock jumps and twitches under your attention. The head is ruddy and swollen, a bead of forming precum seeping out from the slit that begs you to swipe it away with your tongue. 

You wrap your fingers around his girth, a not quite firm enough grip, and pump him twice in long, slow movements.

He sucks in a breath, shivering and muffling his moans against you, his fingers tightening on your side as if you’ll move away. As if you would ever want to leave him like this, aching and needy. 

You dip your hand lower, massaging his balls again and the little sound Jake lets out is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Fuck,” you breathe and quickly pull away from his hold. 

Jake makes a small sound of distress for a moment, thinking you’re stopping, before he realises what you’re doing. 

You lean down, taking hold of his cock and pumping him slowly as you lick along his tip with the flat of your tongue.

Jake groans, throwing his head back against the sofa and balling his hands into fists at his sides. 

You repeat the action again, and again. Lapping at his slit and spreading his precum across your tongue. 

He gasps, his thigh muscles twitching as he fights to keep still and not buck up into your mouth. 

“This okay?” You ask between licks. 

“Yes, ah,  yes, really okay.” He whimpers, squirming a little and biting his lip. “Please don’t stop.” 

“I won’t.” You whisper and lightly suck at his head, moaning as he slips into your mouth, and swirling your tongue around him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” his hips buck up a fraction before he catches himself and forces them back down against the cushions. “Sorry,” his words are muffled as he grits his jaw, bites his lip and tries to not completely lose it after barely thirty seconds. 

You hum, pressing your tongue flat against him and let yourself slide further down, swallowing and sucking on his greedily. 

“Oh, shi-” he catches himself, fighting every instinct to give in and chase his pleasure. He bites his bottom lip hard, drowning in pleasure and not even trying to come up for air. 

His sighs and pants echo around the flat as you move faster, sink lower, until he hits the back of your throat. 

He gasps loudly, a string of swears thumping out of his throat in a rush. 

Then suddenly, his hands are on your jaw, lightly lifting you back up and off him. “Stop, stop, stop,” he rushes the words together and you move back quickly. 

Your mouth is barely off him before he’s pulling you into a searing embrace, his tongue dancing with your own and licking his precum from your lips. 

“You, you,” he mutters, one hand pulling at your jeans and undoing the button. “You, need you,” you’re not sure if he even realises he’s speaking, his thoughts bypassing any check system and coming straight out of his mouth. 

He pushes you back against the sofa and you let him, let his strong, warm hands guide you and push your jeans and underwear down your thighs just enough so that he can touch you. 

He sighs loudly as he strokes between your legs, the sound almost as if you were the one touching him and not the other way around. 

You moan his name, pulling at his shoulders.

“Show me, show me,” he mutters into your mouth, “please.” 

You grab hold of his hand, pressing his thumb against your clit and showing him the soft circles you like. He follows your directions eagerly, his large dark eyes mesmerised as he watches. 

When you press his fore and middle finger towards your slick entrance he moans again, gently pushing inside and shivering. 

“You’re really wet.” He mutters, trying to control his breathing. Slowly he pulls his fingers out before pushing them back in, revelling in the sound your arousal makes. “Is that,” he repeats the action, his eyes flicking up to your face, “is that okay? Feel okay?” 

You nod, keeping a gentle hold on his forearm. “Just, fuck, thumb’s great, just, sort of curl your fingers a little bit and-” Your sharp moan cuts over whatever you were going to say next as pleasure runs up your spine like lightning. 

“Like that?” He whispers, his voice thick and heavy, his pupils blown wide.

You nod desperately, rolling your hips to chase the sensation of his fingers. “Like that.” 

He groans a little, pressing closer so he can lightly kiss your neck, alternating between sucking at your skin and looking up to watch your face in a blissed out rapture. 

“What made you so wet, hmm?” He mutters into your ear, rocking his hips against you so that his painfully hard cock rubs against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” you hiss as the tips of his fingers brush perfectly inside. 

“Hmm?” He asks needily, practically begging, as if he hasn’t got you at his mercy. 

“You.” You manage to stammer out.

“Me?” 

“You.” 

“You like sucking my cock that much?” He groans, having to pinch his side with his free hand to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head. 

You nod desperately, bucking up into his hand as you chase your orgasm. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine and Jake growls. 

He watches you for a few more seconds, trying to keep hitting that spot that makes you mewl under him.

Suddenly, he stops, pulling back his hand and you practically sob, tugging lightly on his wrist to try to keep him inside of you. 

“Jake,” a deep down part of you wishes you didn’t sound quite so needy, but most of you doesn’t care in the slightest.  

“Put your mouth on me again please,” he mutters, his voice rushed and breathless as he urges you down towards his cock with his hand on your upper back. 

You nod, moving quickly to lick a long stripe up the length of him that has him moaning like a whore. 

You take him back into your mouth quickly, sucking him as deep as you can and further still. Jake’s whimpers spurring you on. 

He keeps one hand on your back, nearly at the base of your neck, pressing down ever so slightly to guide your tempo. While he shoves his middle and forefinger into his mouth and groans at the taste of your arousal. 

He moans loudly, his chest vibrating with the sound. “Amor,” his voice is thick, on the verge of breaking, “fuck you taste-” he gasps as you sink lower, your own sounds of pleasure echoing along his cock. 

He bites back a sob. “Taking such good care of me, you taste so sweet,” he sucks on his fingers, desperately trying to find every single trace of your slink that he can. The wet sounds cut over your own, somehow louder in your ears than your racing heartbeat and your mouth around his hot, thick cock.

Jake’s eyebrows pinch together as the ball of pleasure starts to tighten uncontrollably in the base of his stomach, pushing him higher and higher and so close to tumbling off the edge. 

“Amor,” he whines, biting his lip and gently pulling you off his throbbing cock for the second time. 

A thin trail of salvia connects you for a brief moment. You pout a little at being coaxed away from him again, Jake savours your expression for a heartbeat before kissing your swollen lips once, twice. His hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks as he slips his tongue into your mouth and squirms in his seat. 

He breaks the kiss briefly to tug off his own trousers, reconnects your lips with a groan and tries to get your jeans off without moving away again. 

You chuckle lightly at his impatient scoff when it doesn’t quite go to plan. He scowls at your clothing, as if it was purposefully being difficult. Swearing lightly under his breath before looking down and tugging them off. You pull your top off at the same time, burning with need. Desperate to feel his skin against yours so keenly that it is almost to the point of pain. 

“Lay back please,” he mutters as he tugs your legs free and clambers between your thighs. His hands dig in just enough to send a shiver along your nerves, twisting deeply at your core. His stubble grazing over your skin as he places sloppy kisses on your inner knee, trailing upwards and nipping lightly. 

He moves hastily, forgoing any pretence of being able to hold himself together as he gazes at your aching pussy. He darts out his tongue, licking one long swipe through your folds and up to your clit, closing his eyes and moaning at the taste wantonly. 

“Fuck, Jake, I-”

He plunges two fingers back inside you, curling them exactly how you instructed and you all but scream. Your breath stolen from you as he flicks his tongue against your clit, circling one way and then the other before latching on and sucking it into his mouth, trying to follow directions from hazy encounters he watched quietly in the headspace. 

When you grab hold of his hair, your hips arching up into his mouth he groans, opening his eyes so that he can see the look of pleasure on your face. How you contort under his touch. 

He sobs, rutting needily against the sofa, the expression on your face almost too much to bear. 

You buck against him unthinkingly, your body taking over as you need to chase your high. His name falls from your lips in whimpered gasps, separated only but pleas and muttered praises. 

You guide the back of his head, encouraging him to lap at you in time with your hips and he follows your directions instantly, pressing closer and moaning against you so much that the sensation nearly has you screaming.

Your thighs shake as you bite your lips together, muscles tensing and waves of pleasure begin to build and build and build, threatening to drag you down over the edge in one fell sweep and-

Jake pulls back quickly, the bottom half of his face shining with his slavia and your slick. You groan in frustration as he moves, but let go of him so as to not pull at his hair. 

“Jake,” you say, a spike of irritation weaving through your words. 

He moans at your tone, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, please,” he rubs your thighs, kneading his fingers into your skin as his own hips rock and buck against nothing but the air. 

His cock is red, leaking and almost painful looking with how hard he is. It bobs up and down with every movement, almost pleading with you to take pity. 

“Please what?” You whisper. 

Jake shuffles back into a sitting position, both feet flat on the floor. He looks at you a little uncertainly for a split second before he pushes the emotion down. “Please come and fuck yourself on my cock.” He says quietly, as if he was truly asking you for a favour and not letting you have everything you want.

You all but jump into his lap, pulling off the rest of your clothing and kissing him hard. He moans against your lips, following every movement desperately as he places his hands gently on your hips. 

With the last fragment of your rapidly disintegrating self-control, you manage to pull away from him just far enough to speak. “You sure?” 

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, too drunk on your touch for your words to make sense. He moves forward, trying to kiss you again. But you hold him back a little, pressing your hands against his cheeks softly but firmly until his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows pinched in puzzlement. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to rush you, we can-”

“Please.” He practically sobs. The break in his voice at the end of the word rings so loudly in the room that you're surprised it doesn’t echo. You’ve never heard him so needy before. 

“Please,” he repeats, “I want to, I want you. If… if you’ll have me, if you-”

You cut off any self-destructive thought that was destined to fall out of his mouth with your lips on his. 

“If I’ll fucking have you,” you mutter against him, raising up on your knees and taking him in your hand. You line him up with your entrance before you sink slowly down. 

Jake gasps, grabbing hold of you and squeezing you tight. His face pressed into your chest as you hold his shoulder, kiss his temple as you ease him inside. 

He bites his lip, trying and failing to hold back a whimper, but succeeding in keeping his hips still. 

You gently turn his face towards you by his chin as you bottom out, kissing his plump lips once, twice before you speak. “You okay?” 

He nods, completely lost in the feel of you squeezing around him. “I’m not gonna last.” 

“That’s okay,” you smile sweetly, stroking his hair.

But Jake shakes his head. “It’s not, I want you to-”

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, “I’m having a good time, okay?” You smile and gently take one of his hands and guide it between your legs to your clit. “Here, remember what I showed you?”

He nods, looking up at you like you painted the sky and quickly begins those soft circles that have you clenching around him and moaning softly. 

He lets out a choked sob. “Can feel you.” He mutters. “Feel you… squeezing, and fuck, so warm, and wet, and tight and-” he swallows his words, groaning loudly, his eyes closing as you start to slowly move, using his shoulders for leverage. 

His fingers don’t falter though. 

The stretch of him is so good it burns, pressing hard and deep inside and threatening to crack you open at any given second. 

You keep your movements steady, rising up and sinking back down, watching his every expression intently. The bob of his throat. The lines of concentration on his forehead.

His thighs shake, his lip so tightly between his teeth that it’s losing colour. 

“You want me to go faster?” You whisper and he grounds, nodding rapidly. 

You can’t help but smile as warmth runs along your veins. How much he trusts you to take care of him, how hard he’s trying to stay still. 

You kiss him hard, forcing him to stop biting his lip and let out the sweet sounds he’s been trying to hamper. He takes hold of your face with his free hand, caressing your cheek as you slide your tongue into his mouth. 

You pick up your pace, truly riding him and he moans. 

“Amor…”

“Move with me.” You mutter, rolling your hips and encouraging him to buck up and do the same. 

He whines, but nods, kissing you deeping as he fucks up into you as you set a brutal pace. 

The slide of his thick cock makes your spine bend, your body moving on autopilot as you chase your high. Your breath catches in your throat as he hits deep. Your fingers tighten around his shoulders, digging into his sweat soaked skin. 

Jake's eyes snap open, watching you intently and angling his hips to try to hit that spot again. 

“Please, please, please,” he mumbles with every thrust, not sure what he’s asking for but knowing that he’s desperate for it. 

You tense, your muscles clenching as bliss begins to burn at the edge of your vision. “Jake, Jake, fuck.”

“Yes, please, please,” he moans, obsessed with how your lips part, your eyes shut as you get close, “please.” His thumb swirls messily over your clit, slick with sweat and your wetness, he pushes you closer.

The slap of skin is nearly as long as both of your moans as you bounce relentlessly on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. 

Stars begin to swell behind his eyes, pleasure spiralling in the base of his spine. “I can’t, I’m gonna- please!”

It’s a sobbed beg that pushes you over the edge. How desperate he is for you. How needy. How shamelessly open with what he wants. 

You swear as pleasure crackles over your skin, burns through your veins as you come. Jake groans loudly, following you a fraction of a second later and gasping as you squeeze his cock, milking him for every last drop he has to spend. 

He buries himself deep, pressing his face into your chest. For a second he’s weighty, floating somewhere high above everything, somewhere warm and safe. 

And then your hands stroke his arms, your lips kiss his sweaty forehead, and he can feel you, your warmth, your everything holding him tight and keeping him safe. 

“You okay?” You stroke his hair softly and smile when he looks up at you. 

He nods and grins, pressing his lips to yours in a long, soft kiss. “I think I like play pretend amor.” 

You snort. “Oh, do you?” 

“Hmm, we’ll have to do it again.” 

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[cyber333angel]

thinking abt camboy!jj hmm.. from other fics I’ve read they describe him as the type to not show his face and only video tape himself from the neck down and I think that’s so real.. like him in the daytime playing like call of duty or some shit and THEN at night he sits in the same chair where he jerks his dick, in front of a camera to make some extra bucks like. I had wrote this as an ask before but if you were maybe a babysitter for jjs little siblings and after putting them to sleep, you go to tell jj that your heading out but when you open the door to his room he’s in the middle of a stream, you just pause and stare at his dick in his hand and you feel your cheeks starting to heat up so you break out of the stare and try to walk out the room but before you could leave jj stops you and takes your hand . he manhandles you to his wall and is js so rough with you “say a fuckin word about this and I’ll make sure you get fired from this little babysitting gig okay princess?” and instead of you being scared of him in this moment your just turned on by being put in your place 🤫 just having your eyes go half lidded and jj seeing you get so small and submissive from the way he talked to you, he decides to tease you, gripping your jaw hard and forcing you to look directly at his face “you gettin turned on from this shit? have some fuckin degrading kink or something, what the fuck is wrong with you sweetcheeks?” he takes his knee and pushes it between your thighs where your wearing no shorts under your skirt , you gasp at the sudden contact and stutter out “n-no! m’sorry I really didn’t mean to interrupt you jayj!” unfazed he comes up with an idea “if y’re really sorry you’ll come help me out won’t you?” not wanting to lose your job or be hated by jj you agree and nod “of course .” not knowing he meant stripping you of all your clothes and putting you into doggy style in front of the camera screen, letting your face be shown to the little posse of fans on his stream while his face is still kept out the camera..muscular abs and arms being the only thing in frame of him while you on the other hand show your whole body and face, he has you stuttering on his cock “m-mph fuck jj your making me feel so g-good! oh god!” him loving the praise, speeds up the pace making you unable to even get out a response . only plap-plap-plap and wet squelches from your now sloppy cunt . his pelvis connecting to the fat of your ass every 2 seconds makes you know for a fact that your back is gonna be sore tomorrow morning . “gonna let me cum in this pretty pussy hm princess?” not thinking with your head but the heartbeat in your lower body you nod and beg him to cum inside “y-yes jayj! don’t pull out, wan your cum hngh please!” jj also only thinking with his dick, releases a load of warm semen into your cunt, putting in some last thrust until he fills you up. “fhuuck..” he says almost forgetting about the stream he remembers he’s getting paid to put on a show . “show them how I just filled this pussy, cmon now dollface” he manhandles you until your sitting on his gaming chair with your pussy facing the camera, he takes one hand and puts two fingers near your hole . he stretches it apart to watch the cum leak out, the other hand grasps your face still forcing you to look at the camera , leaving you twitching and crying but with a satisfied smile, you hear various sounds and beeps coming from the computer seeing how everyone enjoyed your little show.

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 2

SUMMARY: In the midst of the chaos on set, quiet moments between you and Glen begin to weave a subtle tapestry of connection. As coffee cups become shared tokens of affection and playful banter fills the air, the chemistry between you deepens, revealing layers of warmth and humor. From lighthearted discussions about makeup to Glen’s unexpected revelations about his sisters’ influence, every encounter blurs the lines of professionalism and friendship, leaving you both questioning what lies beneath the surface.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianabomgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 I @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff  I  @lunatygerqueen  I  @hookslove1592  I  @glenpowellluver  I  @missmarveledsblog

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The sun wasn’t even up yet, but you were already on set, clinging to your cup of coffee like it was a lifeline. The early morning chill bit at your skin, and you stifled a yawn as you prepped your station. It was only the second or third day of filming, and the early call times were starting to catch up with you.

Just as you took a sip, Glen walked in for hair and makeup, practically bouncing through the door. He was already in costume, a grin stretched across his face as he greeted the crew. “Morning!” he called out cheerfully, like it wasn’t 5 a.m.

You raised an eyebrow, barely able to muster the energy to lift your cup. “How are you so awake right now?” you asked, your voice groggy with exhaustion.

He chuckled as he sank into the chair in front of your mirror. “Well, I’m on coffee number three,” he said, holding up an empty mug like it was a trophy.

You let out a tired laugh, holding up your half-empty cup. “I’m still clinging to my first. You must have some magic metabolism, because I don’t think my body could handle three.”

He grinned at you in the mirror, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “You’ve gotta pace yourself. It’s all about timing. Coffee every forty-five minutes.”

“Oh, is that the secret?” you teased, rubbing your eyes. “I’ll have to take notes. The rest of us mortals are just barely hanging on.”

“Aw, c’mon, you’ve got this,” he said with an easy smile. “Just have another cup. Or two. And maybe a power nap between takes.”

“I wish!” you scoffed, tying your hair back and grabbing a comb to start on his hair. “What’s the longest you’ve ever been on set without a break?”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head, thinking for a second. “Probably twenty hours straight for a shoot that kept getting delayed. Every time we were about to wrap, something went wrong. It was brutal. But, hey, I survived.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Twenty hours? That’s insane. How did you not collapse?”

Glen shrugged, looking a little proud of himself. “A lot of coffee, again. But mostly adrenaline. When you’re on set, there’s this energy that keeps you going. It’s weird, but it works.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that’s not how it works for me. I think I’d just fall asleep standing.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and it made you smile despite your exhaustion. “You? Nah, I’ve seen you on set. You’ve got this calm, focused vibe. I bet you’d be fine.”

“Focused, maybe,” you admitted, smoothing out the front of his hair. “Calm? Not so sure.”

“Well, you fake it well,” he teased, making you smile again. “Seriously, though, you seem like you’ve got a good handle on things.”

You paused for a second, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Thanks. It’s a little overwhelming, to be honest. But, I mean, who wouldn’t be excited to work on something like this? Top Gun? That’s bucket list stuff.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up at the mention of the film. “It really is, isn’t it? I still have moments where I look around and think, ‘Wow, this is actually happening.’”

“Do you get nervous?” you asked, genuinely curious. “Like, before big scenes?”

“All the time,” he admitted with a chuckle. “It’s part of the job. But you’ve just gotta roll with it. Once you’re in the moment, it’s like everything else fades away. The adrenaline kicks in and you just... do it.”

You finished with his hair and set down the comb, wiping your hands on a towel. “I guess I’ll need some of that adrenaline to get through this day.”

“You will,” he said confidently, standing up and stretching his arms. “But if not, there’s always coffee number two waiting for you.”

You laughed again, the weight of the early morning starting to lift a little. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Glen flashed you a quick smile, he grabbed his cup and started to walk out, pausing for a moment at the door. “Hey,” he called back, “if you need a coffee buddy, I’m always down for round four.”

You grinned, shaking your head as you watched him go. “I’ll hold you to that.”

* * * *

It was mid-morning by the time Glen made his way back to your trailer for a touch-up. The wind had done a number on his hair during the earlier shoot, and you had just set your tools down when the door swung open. Glen stepped in, holding not one, but two cups of coffee.

You looked up from your chair, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were on coffee number three this morning? You’re really pushing it now.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “This one’s not for me.” He stepped closer, extending one of the cups toward you. “I noticed your coffee order earlier and figured you could use a refill.”

Surprised, you blinked, glancing between him and the cup. “You got this for me?”

Glen grinned, nodding. “Yep. Figured you could use a little pick-me-up since we both know this day isn’t getting any shorter.”

You took the cup, a smile spreading across your face as you read the label. He’d gotten your order exactly right. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that you memorized my coffee order this quickly.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t have much choice. You had it written on the side of your cup earlier. Made my life easier.”

You shook your head, amused by his attention to detail. “Still, I appreciate it. What do I owe you?”

Glen waved it off, sliding into your makeup chair with ease. “Nah, it’s on me. Consider it a thank you for always making me look presentable on camera.”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin as you took a sip. “I suppose that’s a fair trade,” you teased, setting your cup down before getting to work on fixing his hair. “Though, I have to admit, I was pretty close to giving up after seeing the state of this mess. The wind really did a number on you today.”

He groaned dramatically, glancing at his reflection. “I know, right? One gust and everything goes haywire.”

“Lucky for you, that’s what I’m here for,” you replied with a grin, starting to smooth out the strands. As you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the small shift in the air between you two. The conversation was flowing easier now, the silences comfortable rather than awkward.

Glen stayed relaxed in the chair, watching you work through the mirror. “You’re too good at this,” he said, his tone warm but casual. “Honestly, you make it seem effortless.”

You chuckled, your hands continuing to move through his hair. “Well, after enough practice, it kind of becomes second nature. Though, I’d say you’re not the worst hair disaster I’ve had to deal with.”

“Oh? And who holds that honor?”

You smirked. “I’m not naming names, but let’s just say it involved a lot of sweat and an unfortunate run-in with a stunt double.”

He laughed again, a deep, easy sound that made the atmosphere feel even lighter. “That sounds like a story I need to hear sometime.”

“Maybe after coffee number four,” you teased, stepping back to admire your work. His hair was back in place, not a strand out of order.

He turned to face you with a grateful smile. “Thanks. For the hair, and for... everything.”

You smiled softly, leaning against the counter. “You’re welcome. And thanks for the coffee. You might’ve just saved my afternoon.”

Glen stood, grabbing his own cup and raising it in a mock toast. “Consider it a small price to pay for making me look good.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he gave you a quick wink before heading back out. The gesture was small, but it left a warmth that lingered long after he was gone.

* * * *

A week or two passed and you had started to feel more comfortable with the routine on set. It was mid-morning, and Glen was back in your chair for a makeup touch-up after the first few hours of shooting. The trailer was quiet except for the hum of the lights, and the steady rhythm of brushes against his skin had lulled both of you into a comfortable silence. You were focused, making sure the base was even, when Glen suddenly broke the quiet.

"Is that the NARS bronzer you’re using?" he asked casually, his tone light.

You froze mid-application, staring down at the palette in your hand with raised eyebrows. "Wait... how do you know that?"

Glen chuckled, his grin spreading wide across his face. "I’ve got two sisters and a niece. Trust me, I’ve been a test dummy for enough makeup experiments to know the basics."

You blinked, half-impressed and half-amused. "Okay, I did not see that coming. So, what—are you secretly a makeup guru?"

He laughed again, the sound warm and relaxed. "Hardly. I just know a few things here and there. Like... contouring, highlighting, and... uh, what’s that thing where you use tape to get a sharp wing?"

"You're talking about the tape trick for eyeliner?" you asked, genuinely surprised by his knowledge.

"Yeah! That’s the one. My niece was all about it for her school dance last year." He shifted slightly in the chair, his expression softening as he talked about his family. "Lauren and Leslie, my sisters, used to rope me into their makeup sessions when we were younger. They were relentless, but I didn’t mind too much."

You smiled as you reached for a different brush. "Well, that explains why you seem so comfortable in this chair. You’re a pro."

Glen shrugged, still grinning. "Hey, I’ve survived worse. And you’re way better than my sisters were back in the day."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and as you worked, the usual professional boundary between the two of you seemed to soften a little more. He felt at ease with you, and you realized that Glen wasn’t just another actor in your chair—he was kind, thoughtful, and had an unexpected way of making the most routine moments feel personal.

"So, should I expect you to start recommending products to the other guys?" you teased, giving him a playful look as you added the finishing touches.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Maybe I should! I mean, have you seen the state of some of their skin? A little moisturizer wouldn’t hurt."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Right? I should help them get a good skincare routine down. 'Hey, guys, just a tip—sunscreen is your friend!'"

Glen leaned back in the chair, nodding seriously. "Exactly! 'You want to be the next big action star? You can't be looking like a potato on screen.'"

"Or like they just came from a three-day camping trip," you added, chuckling.

He chuckled along with you, leaning slightly closer as the laughter faded. "Maybe I should start a YouTube channel—'Glen Powell's Grooming Tips.' I could go viral."

"Just don’t forget to credit me as your makeup artist," you replied, a grin on your face. "I expect a solid shout-out for all the hard work."

"Of course! You’ll be my secret weapon," he said, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. There was a warmth in his gaze, a hint of something unspoken lingering between you. "But really, I’m just glad to have someone like you to make me look good. You’re the best."

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks as you brushed off the compliment with a smile. It was just another easy conversation, another private moment, but something about it left an impression. There was a comfort between you and Glen, a kind of unspoken understanding that made these small moments feel... different.

* * * *

The set was buzzing with activity as the crew prepared for the next scene. You were stationed at a portable makeup station, surrounded by an array of brushes, palettes, and hair products. The air was filled with the chatter of cast and crew, punctuated by the sounds of cameras rolling and directors calling for action.

As you touched up the makeup of one of the actresses, you caught sight of Glen out of the corner of your eye. He was leaning against a nearby wall, watching the scene unfold with a casual air, but you could see the moment his gaze shifted to you.

A few moments later, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way over, his usual smile lighting up his face. “Hey, you,” he said, his voice warm amidst the commotion.

“Hey! What are you doing here? I thought you were filming?” you replied, pausing your work to give him your full attention.

“Just wrapped a scene, and I figured I’d come see what you’re up to,” he said, casually leaning against the makeup station. “Plus, I wanted to make sure you’re not working too hard. You know, it’s a tough job keeping all of us looking good.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re all pretty easy to work with. It’s the directors who give me a run for my money. They keep changing their minds about how they want the characters to look.”

Glen feigned horror, placing a hand over his heart. “What? How dare they disrupt your creative process? Next, they’ll be telling me I can’t wear this shirt!” He gestured to his fitted T-shirt, a playful glint in his eye.

“Don’t worry; I think the shirt is safe for now,” you teased back, feeling more at ease with each playful exchange. “But I’m glad you stopped by. It’s nice to have a break from all the chaos.”

He nodded, his expression growing more sincere. “I totally get that. It’s nice to just hang out for a bit, you know? Plus, I enjoy hearing you talk about makeup and all the behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his interest. “Most guys wouldn’t care about that.”

“Hey, I’m not most guys,” he replied, his tone mock-serious. “I have sisters. I’ve learned to appreciate the art of makeup and hair. Besides, it’s fascinating to see how you work your magic.”

You grinned, flattered by his words. “Well, if you’re ever interested in a lesson, I could always use a willing model.”

“Model, huh?” He feigned deep thought, tapping his chin dramatically. “Do I get to pick my look? Maybe I want a smoky eye... or glitter? I could rock a bold lip, you know.”

“Glitter?” you echoed, your laughter ringing out. “Now that’s a bold choice, Glen. I’m not sure the world is ready for that level of glam.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, crossing his arms with a mock-seriousness. “But only if you promise to take pictures. I want proof when I’m famous!”

“Sure! I’ll make sure to use the most flattering angles,” you replied, your smile widening.

“Hey, you’re the expert. I trust your judgment,” he said, leaning in closer, his tone dropping slightly. “But really, I appreciate you. You make all of this so much easier.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks, Glen. That means a lot coming from you.”

“Anytime,” he said, giving you a playful nudge. “Alright, I should probably let you get back to work before the directors send a search party for me. But I’ll be around if you need a break.”

“Deal,” you said, watching him walk away with a lightness in your chest, knowing that these moments were becoming more frequent and meaningful.

[pullhisteeth]

hello, lovely! so so happy to see you writing again, you're really one of my fave writers here 🥹 if you want, would you mind writing a fluffy best friends to lovers one with eddie where he accidentally overhears nancy and robin talking about reader's feelings for him, and how the reader feels like she should just give up on her feelings towards eddie because it seems like a hopeless case lmao i'm sorry if it's too specific! ily ❤️

hi! I love you!!! I'm so sorry this took so long, I got stuck in the middle of it with no way out, so I scrapped it and started again. I hope you love it. thank you for the kindest message, you're a star xxx

contains some dubious eavesdropping and lots of fluff. somethin' suggestive towards the end but nothing huge. :-)

[3k (ish)]

-

“Hey, handsome.”

Eddie turns to the door. There you are, between the edge of it and the doorframe, socked feet on the step. You’ve got your hands behind your back and you want something.

He smiles at you softly and reaches his hand out without a word. He watches you return the smile and step down onto the porch and towards him. You lift your hand, take the lit cigarette from between his two fingers and lean on the post opposite him.

His eyes linger as you pull it between your lips and inhale, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks hollowing.

“You look nice today,” he tells you.

Your eyes open slowly as you turn your head to look at him. You bring the cigarette down and hold it out to him, twisting back towards the road to blow the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.

As he takes it from you, you say, “Thanks.”

“New top?”

You nod. “Mm-hmm.”

“‘S’pretty. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” you say through another smile. This one’s sly, coy, a wall because he’s complimented you twice and that’s at least one time too many for you. He likes the way he can see how your cheeks warm and how you shift your weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting to stop yourself swooning.

You watch cars go by and listen to the distant sound of Robin’s laugh inside the house, passing the cigarette between the two of you until it’s nothing more than a butt. Eddie throws it onto the gravel at the foot of the porch steps, being gracious enough to save the Wheelers’ nicely varnished wood from being ruined by ash and a filter, and does his best to stomp it out without shoes on.

“Your sock’s gonna get wet,” you tell him.

“‘S’okay,” he says, hopping back up onto the porch and swaying about until he reaches the front door. “C’mon. There’s a mean game of Irish snap waiting for us in there.”

You hum again, only this time it’s a sadder sound. He feels the skip of his heart and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“‘M’gonna stay out here a minute. Need some air.”

“Oh,” he breathes. He takes half a step back towards you. “Okay. You want company?”

You shake your head and it rips something within him. It aches. “I’ll only be a second.”

The ache yawns open somewhere in his chest but he surrenders, returning to the door and leaving it ajar for you as he goes back inside. His mind stays with you as he moves through the house, eyes on his feet and the damp spot on the side of his left sock.

He passes the stairs and as he rounds the corner, he stops dead at the sound of your name.

His ears perk up like an animal and he moves, without thinking, so his back is against the wall.

“-And I get why she feels like that, you know?”

Robin’s pacing. He hears the soft thump of her fluffy slippers each time she takes another step on the carpet.

“She just…” Nancy sighs. “Surely she should try to tell him?”

“Nance, c’mon. You’re, like, the smartest person I know.”

“I just…”

“Nance.”

“He’s just… They’re so close, there’s probably so much we don’t see.”

“She tells us everything.”

Eddie catches his breathing getting heavier and stops, holding it at the hilt with lungs full of air. His hands are splayed across the wall behind him and he’s leaning with all his might, willing the floorboards beneath his feet to stay quiet just for a few moments more. His ears strain because to his right, Steve, Argyle and Jonathan are having some kind of cruelly-timed debate about pizza crusts in the kitchen.

“We can’t know that,” Nancy says. Eddie thinks she sounds sad; he can hear her mouth turning down in the shape of her words, and her fingers are drumming across the glass-topped coffee table, her anxious tell.

“We’ve known her long enough. And we’ve known him long enough. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“She just seemed so sad. I wish she’d try.”

“It’s not worth it,” Robin tells her, words short and frank. Her repetitive footsteps stop. “Clearly.”

Nancy hums.

“He’s hopeless,” Robin continues. “She’s been pining after him for what? A year?”

“More than that,” Nancy says quietly.

“Exactly! She deserves to be happy, we want her to be happy. So she has to-”

“Move on,” Nancy offers.

“Right.”

“But… We see him all the time. He’s our friend.”

“I guess we just… Help her through it,” Robin says. “Get Steve to set her up or something. Surely we know someone who’s far removed enough from Eddie?”

The colour has drained from Eddie’s face, seeping down his body and through his damp socks and into the floor. The hands keeping him steady on the wall are rendered useless, because he can feel them clamming up and slipping down the tasteless wallpaper the Wheelers have covered their hallway in. He slowly pushes himself up to stand and his head spins, the gaudy florals on the walls blurring to crisp bursts of colour.

What the fuck?

What the fuck did he just listen to?

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have listened; it was a private conversation, a private conversation about you. And yet he can’t bring himself to move, ears trained solely on the now-quieter mumblings between Nancy and Robin about how to cheer you up, and…

Andy.

Eddie’s stomach turns at the four letters as he hears Robin say them, louder than she’d been before, bright like a lightbulb.

Andy.

He lives down the street from Nancy, in a big house with a wrap-around porch and a mailbox Eddie probably knocked over at some point in his early teens. He has a good car - better than Steve’s, even - and wears ugly, pasty polo-neck sweaters and pristine tennis shoes. He probably plays tennis, Eddie thinks.

He’s everything Eddie knows your parents would love. Hell, he’s heard you complain more times than you should ever have had to about the sly comments your mother makes, the garden parties and barbecues you’re dragged to on hot Saturdays with the sole purpose of setting the two of you up.

“She hates him,” Eddie hears Nancy tell Robin flatly, their voices hushed again but just loud enough for him to do exactly what he knows he should not be doing.

“But he’s interested,” Robin whines.

“Only ‘cause her parents try so hard. He’s awful, Rob.”

“At least he’d try! I bet he’d take her to Enzo’s if we asked him to.”

“Rob,” Nancy hisses. “You can’t be serious.”

Eddie thought his stomach had dropped out of him a while ago, at the first mention of your name, but he’d been wrong, because he gets that awful sinking feeling once more when he hears the front door close.

In the seconds that follow, everything happens both incredibly quickly and painfully slowly, the way a car crash does, or watching someone fall. You round the corner, footsteps softening as you tread over the rug. Nancy and Robin’s hushed voices stop. Steve throws something at the bin in the kitchen. He misses. Argyle and Jonathan shout. You look up from watching your feet, and your eyes find him, wide and unsure. Eddie dies.

Well, whatever he’s feeling is what he imagines dying is like. There’s a cacophony of sensations and emotions bursting from within his body: firstly, there’s nerves, taking the form of butterflies the way they always do when he looks at you. They’re followed by a wave, though, of shame and, later, dread. He shouldn’t be here. He thinks you have worked out that he shouldn’t be here. He can hear Robin’s slippers again, only they’re getting closer this time, and then she’s at the door, right by his left ear. He can’t tear his eyes off you.

She calls your name, once in a tone so soft Eddie’s surprised it came from her mouth, and then again, only more confused.

He sees her in his peripheral vision as she leans her head around the doorframe and finds him with his back against the wall. She gasps, a quiet, wobbly noise, and then Nancy’s there, too.

You’re still standing a few paces from him, damp socks on the rug, looking at him with an expression that he cannot read.

“Eddie?” you call and he wants to die, he seriously wants to die. The world should swallow him whole for this, spit him out in the pits of Tartarus, let Cerberus have his way with him.

“Oh, god,” he hears Nancy say slowly from her spot beside Robin.

“Eddie,” you say again. “What’s wrong?”

Your face has crumpled into something between concern and remorse. Something unspoken hangs in the stuffy air of the hallway, broken only by the sounds of trash can basketball happening in the next room.

“Uh,” Robin drones, “We’ll, uh… We’re just gonna-” She slides out of the room, past Eddie, pulling Nancy with her by the wrist. “We’ll be in here,” she says, more to you than to him, an unspoken declaration that says come find us if you need us, before disappearing into the kitchen and closing the door.

He’s still looking at you, and you’re still looking at him. You’re about as pale as he feels as he stands upright again.

“What happened?” you ask him.

“I, uh… Fuck,” he stumbles, squeezing his eyes shut and holding the top of his nose. He catches your wince at the curse and the aggravated edge it comes out with. “Uh… Nance and Rob, they were… They mentioned you, I might have… Overheard a couple things.”

He looks away from you as he admits this, that wave of shame more akin to a tsunami now. He’s an asshole. He shouldn’t have listened.

But he did.

“I don’t…” You’re fiddling, fingers winding around fingers, standing before him looking more lost than ever. He chances a glance at you and your face is twisted in confusion. And then it relaxes, mouth agape, as realisation dawns.

“Oh.”

Warmth crawls up your neck. It spreads like wildfire behind your ears, across your scalp, over your cheeks. Everything is hot, the room’s too small, the air’s too close; more than anything, Eddie is too close.

He watches you fidget. You step forward, and your face drops again, wincing like you’re standing too close to a flame, so you step back and turn, moving away from him quicker than he can process. His call of your name falls on deaf ears and ends just as the front door shuts again.

He hears the shuffling of many feet behind the kitchen door but ignores it, pushing himself off the wall and through the hallway. The space is like water, the pressure pushing him down, keeping him from the fresh air - and you.

When he wrenches the front door open he’s hit first with the smell of rain, that hollow, metallic scent. And then it mixes with something like sorrow, and he feels it burrow into his bones, a deep-set melancholy he wants so desperately to fix.

You’re sitting on the porch steps, your back to him, hunched over with your head in your hands. The way your shoulders move gives you away; Eddie’s at your side quicker than he can think to breathe, touching you before really checking that you want that from him right now. It doesn’t seem to matter; you lean into him like always. You hiccup and sniffle, face pressed into his t-shirt without thought, and his arm sits around your shoulder and his fingers press into your shoulder.

“I’m here,” he says, unsteady. “You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you say into his chest. You lean back and press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I didn’t… You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”

Eddie’s brain is working too quickly for him to keep up with, but he manages to tell you it’s okay. “I’m not mad,” he says, thumb pressing into your jaw, the pads of his fingers on your neck, checking you over.

“I’m mad,” you choke. There’s the hint of a laugh there and he can’t help but return it.

“That’s allowed,” he says. He’s surprising himself with how quickly he’s turned into something solid and reassuring. “Want a do-over?”

You look at him and he aches again, his nose burning. You’re flushed and your eyes are pinker than usual, and as his eyes dance over your lips he sees they’re wet from crying and ripe for kisses.

They twist into a smile and he decides that, for now, that’s better.

“Eddie,” you breathe, coy. You nudge him softly in the stomach with your elbow. “Fuck off.”

“What?” he laughs. “I can leave you out here, if you want. Maybe Andy will come save you from m-”

Your elbow hits his lowest rib this time, with far more force than before, and the gasp he pulls from you is almost comical.

“Eddie,” you hiss, “they did not-”

“Oh, Rob would set you up in a heartbeat.”

You groan and let your forehead fall to his shoulder. And it’s here, where he’s enveloped in the smell of rain and the feeling of you, that he feels something open in his chest, and he speaks before he can stop himself.

“He’s better than me, anyway,” he says quietly, fingers carding through the ends of your hair. “You’re too good for me. Some other boy would be better.”

“Other boys are boring,” you tell him, leaning back. Your voice is small and you can’t meet his eye but it’s the truth; he’s blind to it, apparently, but Eddie Munson is the only boy who has ever interested you. He is the only boy who listens, the only boy who sees you, the only boy you have any desire to know inside and out. You’re not sure you ever will know him completely, but if you spend the rest of your life trying, you’ll be happy doing it.

His fingers dance through the space between the two of you until they find yours, toying with the loose threads of denim at the frayed hem of your jeans. His bigger hand takes yours and you still can’t look him in the damn eye. You’d find a smile if you did, though.

He squeezes your hand and touches your chin lightly with the other, pressing the side of his index finger to the underneath of it to bring your face level with his own.

“Look at me,” he whispers. You obey, because it’s Eddie, and he’s so close and you can smell his uncle’s washing powder and the stubborn stain of pot and you love him.

“We could go for pizza,” he says, just as soft. “How’s Enzo’s?”

“You don’t have t’go fancy on me,” you whisper back. “I like Benny’s more.”

A grin splits his face and you match it, giggling.

“My girl likes burgers, huh?”

“Y’know I do,” you say, squeezing back. “Your girl?”

“Gotta take you on a date first,” he says. “Do it properly.”

“You’re startin’ to sound like a gentleman.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

Your breaths are one and the same by now, your mouths so close together that your vacant space has become his. Your eyes move between his eyes and his lips and you catch his doing the same, and there’s an ache somewhere between your legs that makes you pull your thighs together.

He dips his head just enough, thumb pushing into your chin to pull you closer. You let your eyes shut and feel his lips over yours, slow and distant, before you lean into him. He kisses you sweet, his hand smoothing over your jaw to hold your face like it’s made of gold, and he moves against you with certainty.

He’s determined and as his tongue meets yours you bend into it, relenting. It’s magic, just as you’d imagined all these years.

He releases your hand and grabs your waist in his firm grip. It starts to get slovenly, your hips against his thigh, his tongue everywhere, and your head’s starting to spin.

“You’re gettin’ ahead of yourself,” you say, panting, smiling, pulling back from him to look him in the eye again. He’s all browns, dark lashes and darker irises, never wavering from your sight. “Thought you had to take me on a date first.”

“You’re too pretty,” he says, kissing you gently at the corner of your mouth. His breath blooms across your skin as he speaks. “Got years of not kissin’ you to make up for.”

His fingers dig gently into your sides and you suck in a breath that’s half a giggle.

“Gotta get back at Rob and Nance,” you say as his mouth moves over your jaw and leaves a mark somewhere beneath your earlobe.

He hums and leans back, saying his goodbyes to your skin with one last peck to your cheek, just below your eye.

“I think we owe them,” he says. “I do, anyway. Was never gonna get my ass in gear. Coulda lost you to Andy.”

“Never,” you say without a beat.

“Never,” he says back.

-

[viridescent-din]

can you do joel x reader with the reader having to use their safewird? i'd love to see how joel reacts

18+, pretty intense rough sex that warrants the use of safe word under the cut. this has the potential to be very triggering.

thanks for being this blog's first request <3

Joel is so goddamn pent up.

There's too much happening all at once - too much death, too much responsibility. Joel is barely holding himself together, feeling the weight of being the person that you and Ellie follow. Even worse, being the man you depend on.

He needs an outlet. You're in his bed, just like you always are, and Ellie is asleep downstairs and safe. Jackson can give Joel some type of reprieve, even if the hesitation in Tommy's embrace was the last straw for Joel.

Joel, for the first time since you've met him, snaps.

Sex with Joel isn't always - or even often - soft. It's gritty and real, usually rushed. Neither of you have daily access to a shower, and half the time you fuck it's in a frenzy because one of you (almost always you) has nearly been killed. You're used to Joel being borderline impersonal. He's good about it though, always checking to make sure you're okay, always cleaning you up afterwards.

This time, Joel doesn't even prep you.

He watches you, ass in air and on the bed on all fours. You feel his hand ghosting over the skin of your cheeks before he unzips his pants, takes himself out, and enters you dry with a single thrust.

You cry out immediately, the burn instant. The sheets muffle the sound. Even with the ache, there's a glimmer of pleasure mixed in, that nice feeling that comes with being full. Joel warms you from the inside out.

You turn your head, glancing over your shoulder to look at Joel. He scowls, placing his hand on the nape of your neck and pressing your face into the sheets.

"Don't look at me," Joel practically growls. You manage to make some type of noise of agreement from this position, even though Joel just made it infinitely harder to breath. He releases his hand, and you gasp for air. He begins to pick up the pace, relentlessly slamming into you. The force is so much your temple hits the headboard, making you even more disoriented. You whimper as Joel keeps thrusting, fingers digging into your hips. Tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes, and it makes you unbearably upset at yourself. What are you crying over? You grip the sheets, and Joel notices. "That's my girl," he says, sounding distant. "That's it. You know me."

The praise feels sudden, and almost chases away the doubt stirring in your chest. It does nothing for the pain, though. Joel grabs your hands, pinning them above your head, and you start to feel stifled. Your own arms feel like a cage, trapping your head. The sheets bunch around your face, making it hard to breathe again. You're completely naked, but Joel is practically fully clothed, and the collision of his belt buckle with the back of your thigh begins to sting. You can already tell you're going to have a welt. You feel raw, too. You're not used to Joel without spit or your own arousal to make sex more comfortable.

"Joel..." You start to say. You hear him muttering to himself behind you. "Joel," you manage with a bit more force. His movements stutter, but don't stop.

"Hmm? What is it?" You wait for the pet name, for baby or darlin, but it never comes.

"I'm sorry, it hurts, I -" you squeeze your eyes shut. "Texas."

Joel stops the second you say it, still inside you. He lets go of your wrists, and something tells you his hands are hovering mid-air, unsure of what to do.

"Texas," you hear him repeat, absent-minded. "Texas. I... okay." Joel postures up. "I'm going to pull out. Are you ready?" You nod, thankful that Joel notices. He places his hands gently on your hips, like you're made of glass, and slowly pulls out. You hiss at the emptiness, and feel Joel cup your pussy, trying to ease the suddenness of it. He helps you shift to your back, then pulls a quilt over you. You blink.

"I'm sorry," you tell him again. Joel looks at you, brow harsh.

"Don't say that," he tucks himself away. Joel looks at your shaking body, then peels off his flannel to hand to you. You take it, putting it on and sitting up. You draw your knees to your chest, feeling small. "You didn't do anything wrong." You blink.

"You didn't either," you say. Joel scoffs, pacing to the other side of the room. "Please don't leave!" Desperation tinges your voice. Joel stands by the door, back turned. You swallow.

"I'm just grabbin' you some water," Joel looks over his shoulder at you. "Would you prefer I do it later?"

"Yes," you breathe. Joel walks to the edge of the bed.

"Okay," he says, looking defeated. "Tell me what do, sweetheart. Tell me what you need." You look at your lap.

"Can you just... can you sit with me, please?" You ask. Joel inhales, then walks to the side of the bed and climbs on with you. You look at him, tentative, and they lay your head on his shoulder. You slide an arm around Joel's stomach. After a moment, he places a hand over the muscles of your forearm. He ducks his head, lips pressing to the top of your head.

"I'm sorry," he admits. "I never should - the fact I'd let myself do that to you -"

"Stop," you say, voice shaking. "I don't... Joel, don't be mad at yourself. I... please don't be." Joel clutches you, his free hand resting on your waist.

"I'm taking my shit out on you. I shouldn't do that."

"It's been a long journey," your body begins to ache, stress setting in. Joel shakes his head, unsatisfied with your protests.

"No excuses," Joel's entire body is tense. "I always fuck this up, I..." Joel sets his jaw. "I'm a piece of shit for being the one that hurts you."

"Joel, listen -"

"You're the one who needs comfortin' right now, darlin'," Joel interrupts you. He cups your face, and you lean into it. He frowns affectionately at you. "I'm proud of you." You let out a bitter laugh.

"Proud?" You shake your head.

"Yeah," Joel presses emphatically. "Proud. I know it's not easy to stick up for yourself like that," he lets out a long sigh. "And I'm not an easy man to..." Joel trails off. "Well, I'm not an easy man to anything, really."

"Joel," emotion swells in your chest. "I don't think you understand how much you mean to -"

"It's selfish for me to stay with you," Joel tells you. You freeze in his arms.

"Even if that's what I ask you to do?"

Joel doesn't answer. He just keeps holding you, painfully chastely.

[sickiesope]

Energy boost

Sickie: Taehyung

Caretaker: Jungkook

TW: emeto

Taehyung woke up tired today. He didn't sleep the best and just feels overall sluggish. Taehyung can usually hide that he's tired and is good at covering up his yawning in public. But he just hates that feeling weighing him down. They're filming a short dance number for army today and he needs a lot of stamina.

Taehyung doesn't like coffee at all and doesn't understand how Yoongi can drink so much of it. He can't stand the smell or the taste. He's trying to think of another quick fix and wound up buying an energy drink. It's strawberry flavored so he figured he'd try it.

"Since when do you drink energy drinks?" Yoongi teases.

"It tastes better than that burnt hot bean water" Taehyung sasses playfully.

"Maybe, but coffee doesn't make you crash like those do" Yoongi smirks.

Taehyung found it tasted pretty sweet; a little too sweet from what's he's used to but he drank half of it and already feels a little more perky. It gives him more hope about the day. When finished his stomach feels.. weird. He drank that pretty fast. His stomach gurgles with the fizzy drink bubbling up. He burps and pauses for a minute. He feels the caffeine kicking in and rushes to get prepared.

The guys stand in position and Taehyung tries to stay still. He's all jittery and his stomach keeps going off. He doesn't know if anyone else can hear it and palms it cautiously.

"Everyone in place!"

The music starts playing and the choreography is fast pace. Taehyung's body keeps up with the movements but he regrets having that energy drink. The liquid swishes and sloshes inside his stomach with each jump and turn. It feels like his stomach is a bottle being shaken and bubbling up, ready to go off. But he can't stop now, they're halfway through the song. Then his stomach burbles and Taehyung stumbles and hiccups, almost tripping.

"Cut!" They all stop and look at him.

"Tae, why'd you stop?" Hoseok asks.

Taehyung wants to say his stomach hurts but doesn't want to throw off the day. He already messed up and doesn't want people getting mad at him. "I-I'm fine--" *he burps mid sentence.* Taehyung covers his mouth, flustered.

They all look at him strange. Yoongi is looking with concern. That wasn't exactly a small sized can he chugged.

"Ugh, sorry.. I'm sorry, I can keep going." Taehyung says quickly. He just wants to get through this.

"Hmm okay, let's try again" Hoseok gestures them to walk back to starting position. Taehyung puts a fist to his mouth and descretely burps again. He wants to think it helps but isn't sure. His stomach feels queasy and he worries he'll throw up instead. The cameras are going again and he definitely doesn't want that.

On the second take Taehyung isn't as fast, his stomach hurts with all the movements and sloshing. His body can't handle it and his stomach lurches. Taehyung hiccups again and bends over, holding his abdomen. Suddenly he belches and his stomach opens the floodgates, spewing out a fast large wave. 

"Whoa Tae!" Jimin and Jungkook jump back, they were closest to him and just missed getting splashed. Taehyung can't say anything as his stomach is still forcing out it's contents.

The music stops and everyone is shocked at what just happened. Namjoon waves at the staff to stop the cameras and the members run to Taehyung. Taehyung falls to his knees clutching his middle. He sighs in disbelief but his stomach cuts him off with another hard retch. He pants and looks at the pink puddle on the floor. "Ugh, why did I have that?" Taehyung mutters.

Yoongi looks at the young vocalist sympathetically. "It's okay Tae, it could've happened to anyone."

Taehyung feels ridiculous and thought forsure they would scold him but everyone was benevolent and understanding.

-------

Taehyung wasn't thrilled about the car ride back. His stomach's still complaining after all that vomiting. He tries to rub it but he's so tired. Whenever the car hits a bump or a turn his stomach gurgles, making him moan quietly.

"Awwh hyung, that drink really upset your tummy huh?" Jungkook put his hand on Taehyung's stomach. Taehyung just nods as his sick stomach churns. Jungkook wants to help it and starts rubbing lightly "how does this feel?"

Taehyung hums approvingly, letting JK take over. The maknae's hands feel so nice. Taehyung yawns and leans on Jungkook closing his eyes. He's crashing. Jungkook looks and smiles fondly, shifting a bit to make it more comfortable.

[imfluentinfangirlandgay]

A Father's Resolve - Ch 14

Ingo returns after a decade - with two extra cars in tow. Years later, his kids are swallowed up by time in the same way he was. Will he be able to find them? Will they be able to make it out alive?

Word Count: 2300

After gallivanting around the Fieldlands for another week, earning two more stars in the Survey Corps ranks, and Akari finally being released from bedrest after a week and a half, there were over sixty pokemon in their pokedex. That wasn't half-bad! There were a lot more pages to fill, but at least they had a good start! 

Rei tramped up the stairs with his sister to their next assignment. They'd met a new Diamond Clan Warden just a few minutes before, and she seemed in a hurry. Of course, Rei expected they'd go clean up whatever mess she was experiencing. 

They came to Kamado’s office and stood at attention. Arezu was talking to Kamado. 

“Hmm… So it seems pokemon that aren't nobles can be frenzied,” Kamado muttered, stroking his mustache. “Thank you for coming forward with this, Warden. If it has truly come for Ursaluna, this has certain implications for how to proceed.”

Arezu twirled her hair in her hand. “Adaman has his hands full running the Clan and Ursaluna's Warden wouldn't even give me the time of day, so this is the only place I could go.” 

“Warden Calaba,” Kamado confirmed, “the most narrow-minded - ahem! - ‘bound by tradition,” he quickly amended. Rei met eyes with Akari. They distantly remembered the old woman. She’d been the one to force them to take their medicines and would make stern comments to their father. Rei had always gotten the feeling that she didn't like the other Warden. 

Kamado noticed them standing in the doorway. “Ah! Rei and Akari, I have a new mission for you.” He turned to face them, raising his voice slightly. “I order you to study Ursaluna in the Crimson Mirelands! I permit you to show your strength if necessary!” Both twins nodded as Kamado curtly jerked his chin at them in dismissal. 

As they made their way down the second flight of stairs, Akari whispered to Rei in Unovan, “That had to be the shortest meeting we've ever had with Kamado.” Rei snorted. 

They crossed into Cyllene's office. She glanced up at them as they entered. “The next area you will be sent to survey is the Crimson Mirelands,” she said curtly. “The pokemon will be more fearsome and the landscape itself will be less welcoming. At your current rank, you should be able to handle it by yourselves.” She shuffled some papers on her desk. “The destination is a spot called the Solaceon Ruins. This is where you will find Ursaluna's Warden. Find her and convince her to allow you to help, by whatever means necessary.” 

The twins nodded politely at her as she ordered an escort for them. Laventon caught up with them as they left the building, smiling jovially at them. “It's hard to believe you both have scarcely been here two weeks and you're already allowed into the Mirelands by yourselves! Lovely job, lads!” 

“Thanks, Professor,” Akari grinned. 

“Have you both been hearing about the strange new phenomenon happening around Hisui? The space-time distortions that have been popping up?” 

“Huh?” Rei knit his brow as they walked out of camp. “Like the one over Mount Coronet?” 

“Similar for sure,” Laventon said, glancing up at the rift. “However, these are smaller and temporary. The longest they've been recorded is half an hour. They're more contained and will pop up randomly around the region. And the pokemon inside! Things we've never seen before!” Laventon shook his head. “Quite frightening. But nothing you both can't handle I'm sure!” he added as he walked a pace ahead of them, leaving the two to look at each other in worry. 

Finally, the landscape turned a monotonous brownish gray. Mud coated the land as far as the eye could see. A large mountainous protrusion erupted from the land on the other side of a stream. The air was humid here, and rather warm. It was almost sticky just standing here on dry ground. Rei had a feeling he was going to miss showers even more than he already did. 

“Welcome to the Mirelands!” Laventon announced as they came up on the camp. “Here are lots of poison-types in abundance, and plenty of others! I do believe I heard the Solaceon Ruins are not far from here.” He looked toward the mountain nearby. “We'll keep an eye out for those space-time distortions as you survey the area. Best of luck to you both!” he called behind them as they scampered off. 

Rei had been hard at work training up his team. Now most of his team members fare well around most of the Fieldlands. He was worried about those poison types that Laventon had mentioned; Blitz had evolved into a Sylveon just the other day before his eyes. Rei would need to be careful what he sent him out against. 

The twins crossed over the bridge towards the mountainside that Laventon had pointed out. Along the way, Akari snagged a particularly nasty Carnivine. For some reason, it seemed insanely angry at nothing, like the Paras. Was it just a grass-type thing? It couldn't be, the Budew he'd seen at the Golden Lowlands were so docile and cute. 

A tunnel was carved into the mountainside, a semi-ornate doorway made of stone leading deep inside the landscape. A Guard member from Jubilife nodded at them as they entered. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the light as they moved deeper and deeper inside the tunnel. 

Finally, the tunnel widened into a large room with torches in sconces along the walls. Their footsteps echoed against the cold stone walls. In the middle of the room stood two short figures, a human and a pokemon. They both turned to the twins at the sight of them. The human - an elderly woman - was very short, with a Sootfoot root over her head as a makeshift umbrella. Her pack sat heavy on her shoulders, seemingly pulling her down. Her back was slightly hunched. Her eyes were sunken, long wrinkles along her face. Her hair was gray and thin. Her Bibarel stood by her side, as he always had, seemingly before time began. Tiny Rei had imagined Arceus creating the world, and the first beings upon it were Dialga, Palkia, Giratina, Calaba and this particular Bibarel.

Rei remembered once asking Calaba how old she was when he was little. She'd just frowned at him and reminded him that not every question is a good one to ask. 

“I'm Calaba of the Pearl Clan. Warden Calaba to you.” Her voice was exactly as Rei remembered. Raspy, stern, aged. But now, she did not have that glimmer of warmth he remembered, but instead, it was rather cold. Of course, there was no reason for her to be kind towards him, but it still stung for a woman he had considered a grandmother to be so icy towards him. He remembered her giving him a bandage on his scraped knee after falling from a tree once, and now they were complete strangers to her.

She blinked at them slowly. “Hm. You seem to have Celestica Flutes. You must be the ones who fell from the space-time rift.” Akari nodded beside him. Rei quickly nodded as well. Calaba rubbed her chin. “I see.” She looked back up at them, her hands dangling by her sides. “I've heard about you. You quelled Kleavor in his frenzy.” Akari again nodded, prompting Rei to follow, mumbling, “Yes, ma’am.”

Calaba glowered. “I'm sure people were saved by your actions, but I wonder if there wasn't a better way to handle the situation.” Her lips tightened into a frown. “What you did was hardly different than bullying a pokemon into submission. And then you run about catching them in those balls you carry…” Rei could tangibly feel her aloofness. “I don't need help from your sort. Or the Diamond Clan, either. That Arezu offered to help, but associating with the Diamond Clan… it just won't do.” She crossed her arms. “Be on your way. I must not be distracted anymore.” And with that, she turned away to study something on the wall. 

Rei looked at his sister and saw the hint of melancholy he felt reflected in her eyes. The urge to say something, anything, bubbled up in him, to try to remind this woman of the two toddlers she'd watched grow… but it was fruitless. Even more, it was foolish. She’d probably just tell them they were crazy or dislike them even more for ‘lying’ to her. Especially considering that he also dimly remembered her funeral. How his father had mourned the woman in death.

“Hello, you two! Mind showing me the strength that quelled the frenzied lord?” The twins looked up to see the Ginkgo Guild member from before. Volo. 

“Sure.” Akari responded flatly, pulling out a ball as she prepared. Rei could tell exactly what she was doing. Avoiding the feelings at all costs. 

Volo grinned as he readied himself on the other side of the room. Rei couldn't find himself invested in the battle. His mind kept wandering back to his earliest memories of himself with his father and sister and the Pearl Clan. Who else would act so cold towards him? How much would he have to pretend? He hadn't expected that it would affect him so much that people didn't recognize him. Or that he, in his mind, was in the room with a ghost. Zisu was one thing because he didn't have a relationship with her at all but Irida? Calaba, who he remembered being dead? Dad? Oh Arceus, what would happen when they eventually met Dad here? Or Sneasler? 

A tap on his shoulder made him jump. “Rei, come on. We have a side quest.” 

“What?” Rei stood up and brushed off his pants as he followed his sister and Volo. 

“Volo said that there's a piece of a wall engraving missing and that it could make Miss Calaba listen to us,” Akari told him in Unovan, not even trying to hide it from Volo.

Rei followed them as they crossed the bridge again. “I don't see why not-” 

A massive boom reverberated across the land, like an earthquake. It nearly knocked Rei off his feet as he slammed his hands over his ears, searching wildly for the source of the noise. Akari and Volo were doing much of the same. 

On the other side of the Lowlands, Rei noticed a bubble of iridescence blotting out the sun, lightning crackling inside the bubble. Rei looked to his sister. Her eyes were bright and wide, watching the bubble in pure excitement. 

“I think that's a space-time distortion,” Rei said quickly in Unovan. 

Akari nodded. She turned to Volo, “We'll be back in an hour. We need to check what this is about.” Before he could even respond, the twins had already called for Wyrdeer and took off running. 

—-----------

“Ready to head back, brother?” Emmet tapped on Ingo's desk with a gloved hand. “It is now 7:28.” 

“Ah! Yes, allow me to gather my things.” Ingo stood, grabbing his laptop, keys, water bottle, and lunch box and shoving them into his day bag. Emmet stood by the door, his matching bag over his shoulder, hand on the doorknob as he watched Ingo. His twin followed him soon after as he opened the door and stepped out into the main platform. They nodded to one of the night shift agents as they boarded a pedestrian line set for Anville Town. 

Emmet was quiet for awhile as they rode their train to their stop. Not many people were aboard, just a handful of passengers that also seemed to be on their way home from work. An older woman sat at a chair with a book in hand. A man stood with his phone out and a bookbag on his shoulder. Two teen girls, likely on their pokemon journey, giggled as they watched something on a Xtrans. 

It wasn't long before the train slid to a stop and announced their exit. The twins left the train and stepped onto the platform. They climbed the short set of stairs and exited out of the station into the evening air. Fall was approaching rapidly, as seen by the Deerling down and Sawsbuck antlers that dotted the forests nearby. A chill was in the air. Emmet and Ingo walked in-step as they made their way out of the town and towards the outskirts. Towards home. 

“Oh, yes, Emmet, there was something you told me about earlier? That Drayden told you?” Ingo's voice broke the blanket of silence over them, breaking Emmet from his thoughts. 

“Ah, yes. He said there was someone who wanted to speak with us.” 

“I thought you mentioned a Trainer?” Ingo swung his head over to look at him with a raised brow. 

“That was, in fact, something else he mentioned earlier, but there was also someone who wanted to contact us. I told him we could around eight o'clock.” 

“Who is it?” Ingo turned to watch the path again. Their street was coming up. 

“I'm not entirely sure,” Emmet admitted. “Just that she is from Sinnoh and is quite keen on speaking to us as soon as possible.” 

“Sinnoh?” Ingo's frown deepened. “Is it about the children?” 

“I believe it may be.” Their house was not far off now. 

“I do hope it isn't to talk about the heroes again,” Ingo sighed. “I don't know how many more times I can explain that it's not them.” 

“Only one way to find out.” Emmet threw the key into the lock and turned, walking into the home first. “I will talk with Uncle. Grab your laptop.”

[First] - [Previous] - [Next]

[thesporkidentity]

an incomplete list of texts i sent as i slowly lost my mind over the second book of rivers of london, because i fully intend to drag at least one more person into this pit with me. come read with me i promise you're gonna feel so good and normal over this book, come closer

wow okay peter remains the absolute horniest bastard ever. is he a tits or an ass man? yes

oh we are just getting the surface levels hints of nightingales MOUNTAIN of unresolved PTSD and i am very 🥺

you ever feel like a character was written specifically to appeal to you? i'm getting so many tantalizing hints and i KNOW he's going to destroy because he's catnip. he is bait specifically designed to hurt my feelings

also his description makes me think of lee pace or like, 90s/00s paul mcgann and that's just Very Good and i'm being deeply not normal about it

also nightingale reads as SO queer to me, and the potential in fic to explore what that means insofar as how he has navigated the changing landscape of queerness from 1900 to present day is so tantalizing. i don't care that the author says he's not, in this case the author is wrong lol

i must say, i do not care for simone. if we absolutely MUST have hetersexual nonsense in this book i would like beverly back please. she was cool and not a cheating homewrecking jazz groupie lol

still not impressed with simone. i mean, far be it from me to judge a woman's grieving process and all, but she doesn't seem very broken up over her within-the-week dead lover. i mean, i LOVE peter and all and he's hot shit, but immediately falling into bed with him? sus

in conclusion bring 👏 bev 👏 back 👏

also peter, buddy, WHAT ARE YOU DOING

he's a disaster so even though i'm screaming DON'T DO THAT i am unsurprised he is being led around by his dick by a beautiful woman throwing herself at him

but i just. i Don't Trust Her. she doesn't make sense, and i can't tell if this is a case of male author writing wish fulfillment and thus not giving the hot girl adequate motivation of her own

or whether i AM supposed to find it suspicious the way she basically doesn't mourn the man she homewrecked who died very suddenly and then IMMEDIATELY jumps into bed with the magic cop investigating his very probable murder

and i REALIZE the only way to find out is to keep reading, it's just frustrating that women are written poorly so often that, even if he's written good women before, i still have to debate with this is a subtle clue or just Male Author Syndrome

oh my god he finally twigs that this may be weird behavior. peter. bud.

at least he got it before trying to sneak her past folly wards?

side note: god lesley really got the short end of the stick. like, her face fell off, her teeth are a fucking mess, and she probably has brain damage. she got royally shafted

peter "i'm totally straight" grant, talking about how he wants to take a muscly guy by the shoulders and kiss his cheeks and making sure to mention how many phone numbers her got while canvasing the gay bar.

hmm sure, jan

look i KNOW peter is Incredibly Horny All The Time when near any attractive woman, but simone appears from NOWHERE half dressed while he's canvassing for the jazz vampire and he just skives off like that? while looking for a potential killer? that doesn't seem like him he's not that irresponsible. that smells like conspiracy and glamour and i don't trust herrrrrrr

like, peter was already horny wanting to motorboat mama thames (lol don't think i didn't catch that pun) last book. but this book has been a whole new level of horny, and peter may be distractible but not THAT distractible surely

another side note. i love molly and nightingale's weird friendship they've developed living basically with just each other for decades.

oh jesus that's fucked up

oh the severed head is talking

oh. oh no. it got worse

peter, darling, beloved, is now REALLY the time to be talking about how hot your boss is? like i appreciate your dedication to the thirst but time and place, bud

oh never mind i forgive you nightingale is so fucking cool, i get it, i love him

he's so good. the most tragic backstory and perfect stiff upper lip old fashioned english gentleman on the outside, and then just below the surface he's a daredevil and a bit of a bitch and he fucking CARES just SO MUCH and have i mentioned how much the casterbrook wall HURTS ME?? this was revealed in the last book but i just remembered it and it stabbed me again

okay i'm done

i feel like peter has miscalculated making a deal with his cousin to teach her if she aces latin. that's gonna come back to bite lol hope you like teaching too smart for their own good teenagers cuz that's gonna be your life now

"but sir, what do we do if you die??!" "well, that doesn't seem like it will be my problem at that point :)" he's such a bitch sometimes and i LOVE him, mother

ohhhhh. oh no. the pale lady looked like molly and now molly is obviously not okay after she died, that resemblance wasn't just coincidence she definitely knew her 😢

and this is the first person peter has killed, no matter how accidentally. and nightingale is back in the hospital with his chest infection. wow everyone is just having a terrible time right now

okay. i realize that as a memory for him this probably isn't a GOOD one, it's from the war and probably much scarier and MUCH more traumatizing than he makes it sound with his dry narration of it. but god. nightingale knocked out two TANKS. by himself. with his mind. fucking sexy lol

oh damn it why can't they just let me be horny about how powerful he is instead of immediately following it with the fact that he was rear guard and making emotional that it means he was the one trusted to watch over and protect the rest of his men while they retreated as that one final shield between them and enemy fire

hhhhhhhholy shit what did simone DO to mama grant???!!!!

she just bitch slapped her!

OH MY GOD SHE TRIED TO HOMEWRECK HIS PARENTS TOO???

she's PLAUSIBLY IMMORTAL???

fuck i was right she was sketchy as hell!!

she's a fucking jazz vampire and she's been glamouring and sucking him dry! buddy, get to dr walid STAT for a brain scan and make sure she's not turning you into cauliflower!

peter don't you make excuses for her you KNOW it's possible, stop lying about your mum and trying to make her feel better you need to take her in she's a m u r d e r e r

i mean, glamour yes i realize but god, frustrating

good lad peter, i see you fighting it 💪🏾

ohhhhhhhh. oh fuck. she didn't KNOW. she didn't know she was from the 40s and killing people. oh this is bad

nightingale, attempting to show concern: "that was not the most intelligent thing you've done" xD 10/10 nailed it buddy

umm, nightingale? this may not be the black and white moral situation you think it is to go in guns blazing...

it's both funny and little sad how militant both molly and dr walid are when nightingale is injured like. i do LOVE when the person who is SUPPOSEDLY in charge gets lovingly bullied, but it hurts because that's also probably the ONLY way to make him take care of himself is if they FORCE him. and peter's not any better, he's gonna need bullying too

i do love when they team up though. molly and nightingale ganging up against peter like. nightingale gets the special treatment and a hot cocoa from molly, but peter gets the dog's leash and smug little "i'm on bedrest :)" or nightingale foisting the rest of his kidney pie on peter while molly is out of the room then grabbing his empty plate back to pretend he ate it all himself when she returns xD

the cases are interesting and all, but i think it's the core characters that are really the standout of the novel and the reason i keep reading even while i'm asking myself things like, but WHY is she killing via vagina dentata instead of literally any other assassination method? i think it's also why simone stood out so much. she HAD no background that we were told (until now) aside from being sexy. which of course i now know was intentional

"this is your brain, which is not only clean and unsullied by thought..." i love dr walid. it probably says something about me that my favorite characters all have to be at least a little bit of a bitch

oh no i'm having feeeeeelings about both nightingale and peter trying to keep the other out of the vampire raid to shield them from the emotional effects of it, just from opposite ends. nightingale doesn't want peter to have the pain of ANOTHER death on his hands, this one purposeful as opposed to the accidental death of the pale lady, so he's trying to just cut him out of it. and then peter ALSO doesn't want NIGHTINGALE to have the weight of more deaths on his soul and wants to protect him from what he sees as the unfortunate necessity of having to off someone who isn't intentionally hurting someone but still may be too dangerous to live. nightingale trying to save peter from his bleeding heart and peter saving nightingale from his practicality overriding his morality 😭 i just love when characters try to take care of each other in mirrored ways

uh...uh oh peter...no i don't think those are the police OR nightingale's paratrooper buddies

okay the audiobook is fucking excellent though, his infomercial voice while extolling the virtues of doc martins is KILLING me

oh this posh wanker. "oh what is feeding on people but another form of exploitation, and we all know there's nothing wrong with exploiting workers, equality is morally bankrupt anyway" god i hate you already you're insufferable

like of COURSE a dining club oxford nose wipe would think that way. he thinks he's sooooo slick and original with his chimeras they're such exciting new COL crimes but it all just boils down the the exact same rich white bullshit mentality

he would hate it if he realized how dull and banal his villainy is once you strip back the shock value of the trappings. just another entitled prick who views people as things, fuck this dude

i'd be tempted to say the faceless man's signare smelling like pork was a dig at david cameron and piggate if i didn't know it was written a few years too early for that lol

peter: oh no nightingale is going to give me SUCH a bollocking nightingale, obviously so relieved he's alive: very much does NOT give him a bollocking and instead tells him how impressive it is that he didn't just immediately die against the faceless man

"for a terrifying moment i thought he was going to huge me, but fortunately we both remembered we were english just in time. still, it was a close call" 🤣🤣🤣

oh ouch peter. just use all his dead friends against him. effective but also, low blow

god he wants so badly for peter to be right, too, that they and HE doesn't have to kill anyone anymore, that how that it's not Just Him ALl Alone they might have the support structure for other options. oh no i want this to work so badly so that hope is validated, but i just know something is gonna go wrong

welp

i didn't like her but i didn't want her fuckin DEAD you know?

and now the ones left standing have to deal with the trauma and the fallout

oh lesley :( they're both trying so hard to be normal about it and they're such good friends 🥺

LESLEY DO MAGIC?

LESLEY JOIN TEAM FOLLY???!!

also don't think you've been sneaky there and that i haven't noticed SOME sort of thematic symmetry of lesley struggling with having lost her face involuntarily from magic, and the faceless man having voluntarily masked himself. involuntary vs voluntary loss of identity. i'm sure there will be more parallels in the next book but like. i see you. i see you setting up face themes with these two

hopefully with lesley regaining her face somehow and thus reclaiming identity while the faceless man is unmasked thus losing the identity he built for himself and revealing the true one he hid. maybe hopefully? i want good things for lesley and bad things for the faceless one.

[danplansfwtickle-blog0]

Title: dolls

description: Daniel finally gets the upper hand on Jay after a long while of being jays prey, he will no longer suffer being his victim now.

(Please consider that when I involve Dan it will be taking place before……you know…😬 so please know that I never want to make anyone uncomfortable)

(Dominant) Ler: Daniel

lee: sociopath

——————————————————

Jay gave the small doll in hand a smile, placing one last needle into it and gazing it over, he had finally perfected the voodoo doll and was ready for use. The small figure resembled Daniel, his vibrant green hair, his pink sweater and he was even able to make another doll that was made to look like him aswell, not for any voodoo reasons of course, that doll shall not be touched by such whichcraft.

In fact if someone where to put a curse on such an innocent toy, then he would have their head rather darn quickly. But jay had misplaced the toy and he was nervous, if someone were to find it. Even if it wasn’t for any dark magic.

Jay wanted to test the doll, so he stood from his desk and walked over to the wall and pressed against it, his bedroom door ajar and yet just wide enough space to look down the hall and saw Daniel sitting on the couch talking to hosuh, something about some nonsense that probably involved Stephen in the matter. Jay watched carefully, making sure that even with the slightest movement he wouldn’t be seen.

There was no indication that he would be seen, no matter what he did.

Jay smiled slyly, then started give pressure on the dolls side, at first he thought it was a fail. But then noticed Dan start to flinch. Daniel placed a hand on his side to which hosuh asked what’s wrong, Dan didn’t answer at first until Jay had gone to poke the other side, Daniel started to smirk a little.

“Heh, not so tough are you, Dan?” Jay mumbled proudly.

Jay proceeds to poke fun (pun half- intended) at the doll, prodding repeatedly at the dolls sides and ribs, making Daniel fall into fits and giggle before hosuh spoke.

“Uhh Dan? Look..” Hosuh said, pointing his finger down the hall, Dan turned to see Jay on the other side of the slightly opened door.

Jay then ran deeper into the room and Dan knew that he was probably gonna hide some where and so he stood up from the couch as he made his slow pace towards the door with a nonchalant expression, saying to hosuh: “I’ll be right back, gotta deal with a trouble maker”

Hosuh snickered before sauntering off towards Stephen’s room, perhaps he could find more entertaining conversation there.

Jay who was in frantic mode, knew that Daniel would be here any second, so the options he had were the closet, behind the chair in the corner and jumping out the window. He chose the closet and closed both doors and sitting down in the deepest part possible before hearing the door open to the bedroom.

Dan had obviously known it was the closet door that shut just before him, but Dan wanted sadistic pay back.

Dan then reached behind his back as he spoke calmly, though there was a hint of malice in his voice.

“You know jay, I was the one that took your doll” Dan then pulled it from his back pocket. “And now your gonna get a taste of defeat”

Jay covered his mouth with the plush at his side, fearing the worst out of the evil dungeon master.

Jay started to feel a sensation in his side, Dan was scratching that spot delicately.

“How does that feel?”

Jay didn’t reply, but then he heard slow menacing footsteps around his room, taking his time to make suspense.

“I know you’re hiding here somewhere, I just need to figure out what would make you break~” Dan teased in wonder, attacking both sides of the doll with his one hand.

Jay tried his best to keep as still and as quiet as possible. The best he could do was bite his arm as if the gag himself, while clenching his his other fist.

“Now where could jay be? Hmm?” Daniel asked to seemingly no one, dragging his fingers into the ribs of Jay.

Daniel walked over and looked under the bed but was found to be absent.

“Well, it seems like jay is not hiding here, how about…” Dan then moved over to the chair in the corner and looked behind it swiftly, saying aloud: “HERE! Hmm”

Jay flinched at the sudden shout, but to his dismay, the shift had caused a loud fabric against carport rubbing sound, to be heard from out side the closet. Daniel was still tickling the doll, but now he was becoming more evil and dominant with it, slowly tracing a finger down the dolls ribs, down to the sides and getting to the belly in a slow process, this was making Jay just barely hold back any giggling that made him sound like a child playing hide and seek.

Dan turned and made his way to the closet and kept his finger at a slow pace, while also teasing Jay to death.

“Was that a giggle I just heard? Did jay just giggle? I don’t think I ever heard him giggle before?~” dan asked, he was about half way to the closet when he reached the dolls stomach when he heard extreamly but noticeable muffled laughter from the closet.

“DAHAHAHAHANIEL!!” The yell was more clear than it seemed.

Dan ran after the closet door and saw Jay laying there with his arms over his stomach, his expression was once happy, but was now embarrassed.

“There’s jay! It’s almost like you the idea of hiding was a bad idea” dna mocked, jay was about to get up but Dan noticed him unblock his stomach and Daniel immediately poked the doll again.

Jay fell on his tailbone and started laughing again, covering his stomach, even though it didn’t do anything good. He startled rolling around, like a chinchilla talking a dust bath.

“Awww, jay has a ticklish tummy~ does Jay like his belly to be tickled?~” Daniel teased playfully, using two fingers that danced around on the dolls stomach.

Jay repeatedly slammed his fists into the ground, wishing that he had the strength to get up and tackle Daniel to the ground and take that damn doll away from him.

“DAHAHAHANIEL STOHOHHOHOP TIHIHIHIHICKLING MEHEHEHEHE!” Jay yelled, rolling onto his back and bending backwards, as if moving a certain way would deflect the tickling sensation.

“But this is my chance I’m taking to get back at you for being my persuer” Daniel replied. “But for someone who is normally nonchalant and chill, your very squirmy”

Daniel then put a hand down to start scribbling at jays real stomach found more pleasure in that.

“Hmm” daniel hummed amusingly before tossing the doll and started to analyze jays torso. “Let’s see, now that I have this jay doll..” Daniel looked at Jay with a wolfish grin. “And these needles..” Daniel raised his hands to reveal ten fingers. “I can finally pin the cushion”

Before jay could do or say anything, Daniel started to rapidly jab and wiggle his ten fingers into jays sides, making him jump and squirm.

“WAHAHAHAHAIT!! STOHOHOHOHOP IM TOHOHOHHOO TICKLISH HAHAHA!!” Jay pleaded.

“Well, then what about here?”

“NOHOHOHO! NOT MY BEHEHEHELLY!” Jay cackled when ten hands made contact with his stomach.

“Seems like this sociopath has become a tickishpath, the ticklish symptoms being the…” Daniel then poked or lightly scribbled and scurried his fingers across jays body with each word that came out. “Sides…”

“And the ribs…”

“NOHHOHO!”

“Oh! And of course, the belly-“

“NOHOHO!”

“And this little guy here…” Daniel then placed his finger on jays navel making him jump violently, already in a set of giggles. “Has a habit of being so sensitive that it makes it easy to tease with just the point of my finger…as..I trace my, finger tip around the edge of the center”

Jay covered his mouth and startled laughing uncontrollably through his hands.

“HMHMHMHMMMHMHMHMHMM”

“Why are you laughing?~” Daniel asked light heartedly. “Awwwwww, Does it tickle?”

All jay could do was scream/laugh into his hands, while Dan teased his soul away into the void of his mind.

Jay shook his head, trying to block out Daniel’s torment.

“No? Then why are you laughing? Daniel is just playing with you~ he just wants to hear you laugh” Daniel couldn’t help but giggle a little bit, still tracing the edge of jays navel a little longer.

After a short moment Daniel stopped and got off jay, letting him breath. Once Jay was at least able to speak, he spoke.

“Evil….son of a gun..” Jay said roughly, clenching his stomach.

Daniel laughed, knowing he may regret this somewhere in the future.

@ghostlee

Man I’m just throwing these at you! 😂 but I enjoy writing them as much as you enjoy reading them! I feel I’m getting better at ideas for these!

[lemon-inferno]

Reborn Rich the final episode

What an ending.

It's so bittersweet but I love it. Maybe it's my obsession with Jin Do Jun, but if you follow the actual chronology of things - Do Jun was reborn as Hyun Woo first. Because he died first. And if fate cannot be changed then he was meant to recover his memories as Jin Do Jun, which had alread been burried within him. Even before Hyun Woo "died" (for a week), it was meant to happen. So who is really who at the end? As Hyun Woo called it, you could think of it as repentance, but for me personally, Do Jun existed in Hyun Woo long before Hyun Woo got "reborn" as Do Jun.

All that being said, I do have some very smaaaaaall issues with the ending.

First, it felt rushed. Honestly the last 3 episodes or so felt really rushed compared to the rest of the drama's pace. Everything that needed to happen still happened, but it was just.... I don't wanna say half-baked but.....

Second, Hyun Woo got shot straight in the head point blank. You're telling me he miraculously survived that? Sure there are some miracles that happene even in real life, but it's a patter I hate with tv shows, nto just kdrama. At the very least, he would've needed years to recover. Although, if I really want to defend it, I could say the years he spent as Do Jun somehow changed Hyun Woo's brain's perception of time which afforded him just enough time to recover. Still, between Do Jun's and Hyun Woo's death, Do Jun would've had a much higher survival rate than Hyun Woo. Sure, Do Jun's car got slammed pretty hard, but it's not comparable to getting shot at point blank IN THE FREAKING HEAD, now is it? :/

Also I would've loved to see the actual process of Mr. Oh Se Hyun working with Do Jun's mother, instead of just hearing about all the things they're gonna do..... but we don't get to see them.

Jin Sung Jun's character deserved more too. Sure he was greedy, but he was not guilty of ordering Do Jun's murder. Both times he was innocent. He knew everyone would've suspected him, which is was exactly what his father wanted. It's the reason why he got the company in the first place. Sung Jun deserves some justice too. I feel like it would've been that more epic if the show had gone back to the conversation between Hyun Woo and Sung Jun from episode 1 and committed to the bond that was forming. Imagine if we had Hyun Woo and Sung Jun working together in the final episodes. Hyun Woo gets to finish Do Jun's deed and Sung Jun finally has a change of heart and pays tribute to his grandfather and runs the company with the same heart his grandfather had.

On a more positive note (says anticupid), Hyun Woo did not end up in a relationship with Min Young! Which makes logical sense, for once. I'm not saying I'm happy that they didn't get together, I'm saying it happened for the right reasons. But I'm sure most of the ship's fans will be satisfied that she seemed to recognize Do Jun in Hyun Woo in the end. One could imagine they did end up meeting up and like.... making babies. Idk.

I liked the future Min Young a lot more. Although for her to become the Soonyang Grim Reapper and wear only black because she was mourning for Do Jun, I really would have loved to see more of their relationship developing at least? As it was all based on only a few times they talked? Briefly? But I guess human emotiones are unpredictable, so it's possible. Anyways, there's that.

A little sad the endings of the rest of the characters were rushed by too, but I didn't see anything that made me think "hmm this doesn't make sense". Honestly, is there not going to be a season 2? Now I'm kinda disappointed, because I wish we had spent more time with how the other characters' life continued. As well as more to see of Do Jun with his family. But I get it, it was never the focus of the show.

All my other thoughts about this drama flew out the window.

I can say it was a lovely experience. I enjoyed this so much despite constantly finding something to nag about. I loved following Jin Do Jun's life, and that particular era in South Korea's history. The real footage they used. I loved Jin Yang Cheol's character, I loved Lee Sung Min's acting (as well as Joong Ki's, always).

It made me cry a couple of times and any drama that invokes real emotion in me keeps a spot in my heart. Especially when Ha In Seok went to testify and thought Hyun Woo was Do Jun (was he wrong though?) and wanted to protect him. The unspoken hero of this show. It was a fantastic story, even if we look at it only from Do Jun's perspective, it makes for an amazing story. Had Hyun Woo not even been a part of this drama, I would've still loved just watching Do Jun and his grandpa. Hyun Woo's growth at the end was the bonus for me. I get to exprience something which unlocked his cage and his heart. The boy who grew up in poverty and had many hardships because of it, the boy who willingly walked into a cage because of his trauma caused by poverty. He put his emotions aside, thinking that money was more important than them. Finally, he was freed from it all.

With a new look on life, a new heart and a new dream, he was able to leave all of his hurt behind and live in a way that not only fits him better, as a human, but also a life that Do Jun would be proud to see him live.

Ugh. I'm gonna miss Do Jun's smile though. I know Joong Ki plays both, but that smile is now Do Jun's until the day I die and there's no changing my mind.

Alright, time to go cry in a dark corner. I love-hate this ending.

[shibe-myths]

ANGST TIME! Ro reaction to the mc getting all dressed up for a date but it’s with someone else?

Oooooof, Poor ROs. I'm gonna assume this is in the crush stage. And as I write this. I'm starting to realize that some of these romance options have more red flags than I knew.

Lady B: She hides her feelings well, going out of her way to use the opportunity to help the MC get ready. Be that doing their makeup, picking out their clothes, smothering the mc with words of advice. Anything to have that extra bit of time. And when the MC leaves, she tasks one of the Masked Mercers into watching your every move.

Bernie: They can't quite hide the fact that they're disappointed. Pouting slightly as they appraise the MCs outfit. Sticking closer than they should, never straying as the MC gets ready. Hell, bernie would even take the time out of their day to chat with the MC's intended date. Threatening them in such a way that it would go over most people's heads. But, if you look closely, there is an EDGE to their gaze. As if the only thing on their mind is to rip that rat bastard to shreds.

You never do go on that second date... hmm.

Laz: If Laz has an interest in the MC, I can see them downright blackmails your date into bailing. And it will work, trust me. As the hours would tick by, Laz would go out of their way to ensure that you end up despising that jerk by the end of the night. And then, like a good friend, they'll curl up unreasonably close with some shitty romance novels and sweets.

To help with the heartache of course.

Amyntas: He outright BITCHES the entire time. Finding anything and everything wrong with your date. All the way down to the way they breathe. (Its just so fucking annoying, ya know). By the time that douchebag decides to show their face. He's puffed up worse than a cat. Pacing up and down the halls, half ready to go feral.

And he will go feral if let loose.

Bishop: He does nothing that night, maybe wish you luck. Stays up late to make sure you get home safe. But when you've come back? Safely tucked in bed? He forces Indie to go find your date for details. Every last one. He has to know.

That his ideas of seducing you are better than theirs.

Indigo: She's pulling out the wine and fancy oud. Serenading the MC as they get ready. Fluttering about with all her bits and bobs. Letting her magic slip in here and there until the MC is practically vibrating with excitement. And then she sends them off to have their fun. Like any sane, rational woman whose secretly madly in love with their friend would do. She isn't jealous, she swears.

Okay maybe a little.

Peri: Bold of you to assume that Peri isn't already your date.

here's the secondary romances.

Asha: She laughs and asks if you'd like her to spare your date a plate. What? You're obviously not going out THIS late at night. Besides, Flin wants to bake cookies with you. And how could anyone refuse that lil dragon pout?

Lace: Spends the entire time that the MC is getting ready, getting progressively more annoyed at the fact that your date didn't think to invite your beloved sugar baby along. He's the prettiest boy in the whole of Ibereli gods damn it. He should ALSO be wined and dined!

Somehow your date ends up as their own third wheel, trapped in a crippling amount of debt as Lace drags you about the bazaar. Happy to be spoilt like the prince they truly aren't

Ribbon: She straight up asks if she could possess your date so that you two could ruin the fool financially. If that doesn't work she'll give a lecture about knowing your worth and to keep an extra blade on you, just in case.

The stranger: Wishes you luck, but otherwise ignores you for the rest of the night.

[carli-meows]

i would like to sleep

welcome to lala land provice of dreams

the place between rest and awake it seems

like you feel like youre falling thousands of feet

and then boom restless, only seconds of sleep

youre in line for a snack now and you cant read the menu

and everyone is complaining to you about you

what the fuck man, now you're at the back of the line

now the front, in lala playing with time is no crime

you order up some crisps and strawberry daiq

but her name isnt zach and she didnt like that, jack

so now youre fightin daiq the mack with a tire iron

so much for sweet dreams and dreams of zion

welcome to lucid land there aint no rules

except dont look in the mirror or jump like a fool

or try to remember how many fingers you have,

if your iris's were hallow or diced in half

is that your best friend chassie? or your mom?

a sock on the carpet or a fawn hoppin out of the lawn?

is that a person in your closet? someone's fingers on your neck?

just your cat lickin you, dawg, and thats just a coat, jack.

do you own a cat???? hmm???? think about that....

no no no, you're 4 foot 7 you'd think you know that

and besides, the closets on the ceiling that's no suprise

strawberry daiq on the night stand with extra fries

welcome to heaven the place you could be

its the one place youve never been probably

its better than lamb's limbo or pig's purgatory

youre no old mcdonald, so listen to us and me

you feel no pain, you feel no wrath

you feel forgiven, all your troubles in the past

you feel afloat, you feel at peace

you feel your soul's ascended, you can rest at least

youve finally made it a resting place

far from your enemies far from disgrace

theres no place like home, there's no place like here

there's no place like this place, wherever here's here

your pets and family memebers you've forgottern were here

and their features are oh so clear, and you can hear

you can hear them say in a magical way

beep beep beep, but you turn away

welcome to hell, baby, the place to be

ignore the dark swarms of locust though this firey city

hey, you got a imp bittin on you, guy

he got a chunk of your arm with your ice-cream scoop, bye!

you feel all pain, you feel all wrath

you feel unforgivable, with demons on your back

you feel sunken, you feel behind pace

you feel your soul's descended, upon this place

he's watching from ober there on a corpse mountain

she's staring at you behind him, through a geyser fountain

you're sluggish and slow in pain on the holy Fleur

cardiovascular seizure of your soul for sure

if you look to your west you can the demon of rest

he moans every second his pitch gets louder, we digress

we surround and point as you bleed from an unknown orifice

as you hear the truths from beaded pastor riding a tortoise

every thing you've been embarrassed and wrong about

all comes to fruition in this dark bright light

what all started with a sound sound sleep

leaves you shocked with the sound of a beep beep beep

[camgoloud]

3 and 12 for the book ask?

3. What were your top five books of the year?

After my top 3 the competition gets pretty stiff, but I'll rank them:

Nona the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (of course!)

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke

The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

The Fifth Season by N. K. Jemison

Honorable mention because I’m not sure if plays count: this summer I finally got around to working my way through the rest of Shakespeare’s tragedies which I hadn’t already read, and oh my GOD why does no one ever talk about Coriolanus... there is simply SO much going on in there. much to think about etc.

12. Any books that disappointed you?

I had multiple people I know irl recommend Mark Prins' The Latinist to me but it didn't work for me ultimately—it had a potentially interesting if somewhat cliched premise but it took some WEIRD turns in the second half and I honestly came away from it thinking mostly: hmm, YIKES, NONE of these characters feel particularly well-written and also that does NOT feel like the way to pace an ending. I didn't love Fredrik Backman's The Winners either, which is a shame because it's the last book in the Beartown series that I've been following for a while. Some of it I think was just the fact that the translation from the Swedish felt really clumsy this time (weird, as the first two were done really nicely I thought! unless i'm misremembering out of nostalgia?) but I also just didn't feel like the conclusion was all that satisfying. Justice for Benji, etc... Finally, I went into A Declaration on the Rights of Magicians by H. G. Parry fresh out of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell and thus with high hopes, because all the blurbs compared those books to each other—and tbh I thought most of Declaration was like... laughably bad lol. Probably I should have just DNFed it but I kept waiting for it to do something interesting and it never got there... you know how there are all those obvious The Secret History knockoffs that sort of just suck and seem to miss the real Point of that book for all the time they spend just trying to recreate the aesthetics? This was basically that for JS&MN

[end-of-year book ask: send me a number!]

[gludgenbell]

Have you ever felt "out of touch" with what's happening around you? And have you ever felt "out of your mind" with worry or stress? How did you handle it and cope?

Hmm

I'm not sure if out of touch and distant are interchangeable but I've definitely felt like I'm quite a bit far lately....

As for handling stress, I take a lot of comfort in knowing I'm not facing anything I can't overcome! And there's a sunrise to every sunset

I don't think I'm much of a worrier, I tend to be very relaxed until everything kicks into high gear and I plan/work until I'm satisfied Abe I don't. Take breaks or eat during that time

I've felt out of my mind with stress before and it's made me very irritable and quick to tears

I've hurt myself a few times (lightly, I am ok) in search of a release for the excess energy and found myself running/pacing in circles for minutes to an hour

Extended answer going under the cut about that first question because this is a long one and the mood is very gray, and I think I need to talk more abt it! If you feel like reading it though, you tell me if I'm out of touch or not

I'm realizing I like my personal space! I don't talk much and most of the time I go 'mm' in varying octaves and lengths! I'm realizing I'm not very interactive with my family during the day and most of the time I'm kind of put off about everything

My friend left for college the other day, they had a party I wasn't invited to and I didn't care about it but I got the impression from our other friends that went that maybe I should've?

They left and I got to talk to them on the phone and one of our moots kept asking if I had anything sentimental I wanted to say and all I could say was good luck and goodbye because I actually don't know what they're going to college for

I actively chose to speak to 3 people during the whole two months of summer, and for one of those people I was only half-there be cause I just didn't care about what was happening with us

I'm prepping to go on a mission for church! It's some big thinking and my friend told me she'd be okay and I didn't realize she was going to miss me until she mentioned she was crying about our other friend having left

I think, I'm very not here with the people around me

I have a hard time listening when some moots talk, and I keep feeling like I'm coming off more and more like a jerk because I just can't connect? I know I can be really empathetic, but I can be horribly selfish and I feel like I'm losing a lot of my empathy and I'm becoming incredibly apathetic

I really only think I have two people I'd call friends, which is tough when people keep insisting we're friends and I know by all accounts we are but I just can't seem to care about them

I'm supposed to make money so I can feed myself! And help my younger siblings! And I'd like a job for human interaction because I know I'm not getting enough

But I haven't been hired all through summer and I don't care anymore

I know I need to, but the idea of interacting with people, of having to learn again just leaves a bad taste in my mouth which is crazy because that's not me! I love people, I love interactions? I've found myself telling moots that I just don't like people anymore, in the sense that I'm always upset when they start talking and like

Everyone has a reason to say something. There's a purpose behind every word. I can't get past that purpose when someone talks. I'm intently aware of the message in their words and if there isn't one, the fluctuation of their tone

I'm annoyed by everyone who isn't my family and my two friends, I don't like talking to anyone who isn't my family or my two friends

I've been asked to call and for four whole hours I'm just irritated

I can mask my voice well enough but I sit there, for hours, staring at the wall just upset and going 'mm' every few seconds??

I don't think I'm above anyone really, I'm not out of touch in that sense

I just can't build a bridge between me and most people anymore and it's been happening more and more as months go on

Like I see the outline, I know the blueprint

I know what I have to do and I know what I used to do not even a whole year ago

But I have a hard time feeling like it's even worth it to pick up the pieces and start building

Even with my family I have to remind myself that relationship takes sacrifice and I have to do this thing I don't want to do, help when I don't want to help, care when I don't feel like caring, for there to be any love

n e way I'm not sure if it's out of touch or not to feel that way! It might be...?