#i didn't wanna say in the description just so i wasn't dragging things out but this is indeed a hanahaki au

[createdbytragedy]

WANNA BE YOURS

‧₊˚🖇️✩Pairing: Yandere! beomgyu x reader ‧₊˚🖇️✩Genre: Yandere, smut ‧₊˚🖇️✩word count: 5.3k ‧₊˚🖇️✩Inspo from: 1- how beomgyu looks at you, 2, 3, 4, and 5 ‧₊˚🖇️✩: Warning(s): sub! Gyu, mention of gaslighting, manipulation, murder, threatening, a few description of blood, smut in the end, hickeys, marking, praise kink, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, obsessive thoughts, mommy kink, mild choking, riding, slight degradation, name calling (slut, whore), pet names(baby, baby boy, honey, darling), dry humping, dacryphilia etc

‧₊˚🖇️✩ The world seemed to be against you and your lover for some reason but how could you ever suspect him when he claims all he ever wants to be....is yours.

‧₊˚🖇️✩A/N: This is probably the longest I've ever written. istg i'll never write again if this don't reach the succcess i expect cuz i kinda lost the plot at the end, lol.

"Beomgyu, I think you should leave (y/n)," The simple words fell on Beomgyu's ears loud and clear but he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Soobin, you didn't have to be so direct!," scolded the other girl on his side.

"Pardon me?,"

Ari shivered at the sudden change of the boy's tone. It has always been like this. She knew. They knew. There was just something off about your boyfriend of 8 months.

"Look, as her friends, we just don't think you both are compatible," Ari explained, hands fidgeting as she kept glancing at the door of the restaurant the four of you just exited. You went back, claiming that you needed to use the restroom urgently.

It was a friendly hang out dinner you have planned with two of your bestfriends and your boyfriend whom you dragged along. The night went by with no hitch and everyone had a good time. Or so it seems.

"What." Beomgyu's voice came out raw and low, the tone they were both familiar with when you weren't around.

His real voice.

Beomgyu's demeanor changed drastically, his friendly gaze turning as dark as the night with no moonlight, dark clouds hovering over his pupils. The smile he displayed just before you left was no where to be seen instead etched in a menacing scowl, like he couldn't even stand them.

That was, of course, not a question nor an appeal to repeat the said statement.

"Look, man, I don't know how else to put it but you're toxic. For her. You're not good for (y/n)," Soobin filled in, trying his best to be careful with his words so as to not hurt his feelings.

"Huh?,"

To someone else, the constant questioning of Beomgyu may seem obnoxious, like he was mocking them but the pair knew better. It was a typical true beomgyu that you never see.

Nor will you ever. He was fucking capricious, switching back to his perfect-sweet-boyfriend facade like he wasn't just glaring daggers into your friend's eyes just moment before you arrived. And you fell for his act every single time.

"don't try to act dumb, Beomgyu, I really, really think you need help. I mean, you're always clinging to her 24/7, you don't even let her do the things she likes anymore without making her feel guilty about it. You're so selfish, do you even realize that?! you are not a good boyfriend to her in any means, beomgyu. She doesn't realize this because she's too fucking naive but I do! and--," Ari's voice has raised higher by the time she finished what she had to say.

Soobin placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly as if to calm her down.

"You should stay away from her," Soobin added, his tone light and controlled. He didn't mean it in hatred, it was just pure platonic care for his friend that was being manipulated unknowingly.

Beomgyu almost cringed at the words spilling out of the people's mouth. It was so outright ridiculous. He can't help but let a chuckle leave his lips.

The pair looked at Beomgyu as if he'd lost a braincell, confused and horrified.

"God, you both are so annoying," Beomgyu said in a snide remark, standing in front of them, "the answer to that is no. "

Ari and Soobin looked at each other, utterly confused. They don't remember asking him a question that he had a choice on. It was more like an order. A direct threat, to be honest.

You would never believe them anyway. Beomgyu had you fooled so good. He pretended to be that sweet boy in front of you, clinging to your side and looking at you with those innocent eyes like you were the answer to each of his prayer. He greeted your friends with a smile that turned to grimace and loathe as soon as you turned away.

He bought you coffee, 'accidentally' forgetting to bring some for your friend too. He would call you continuously, bombing your phone with message after message, asking you to come home soon when you were trying to just have some fun with friends. Eventually, you would have to cut the meet up short, getting worried about your partner as his text messages would get more restless with each passing moment.

You would never suspect he was the reason your friend circle was becoming smaller and smaller. Now the only close friends you could call were Soobin and Ari.

"I know what you did to Haru, Beomgyu," Ari gulped, feeling like the night air was getting too hot for an october. She inched closer to Soobin, seeking his comfort until their body was gently brushing against each other.

That statement was the only thing that bought a somewhat surprised look to Beomgyu's face until it vanished as quickly, shifting onto his firm scowl, eyes glistening with pure hatred for them. It wasn't hard to miss that Beomgyu didn't expect his horrible act to be caught.

"you did? good for you," he smirked, bangs falling over his eyes. If not, they could've seen the glint of mischief that flashed across it, holding something sinister and unimaginable.

Where were you? What was taking you so long?

Ari and Soobin both knew as soon as you return, Beomgyu was going to change his facade faster than speed of light. They have tried, of course they have. They tried to warn you about him, explaining his lowkey manipulative techniques and how he was isolating you from the rest of the world, of course you didn't believe them. You just thought your friends were worried about you since Beomgyu had had a reputation even before you started dating.

They called him ominious, strange and almost malevolent. You never saw any of that in him. He was anything but those horrendous things they assume about him.

"How could you do that to him?! You are insane! you're-- you're a psychopath which is why you should leave (y/n) alone!," Ari cried, her voice laced with emotion.

She remembered that day clearly. A friday night. She was going to get her car the the office basement after finishing work, jiggling her keys around her finger as she hummed a happy tune to herself. The basement was quiet, as always, which made her steps echo loudly, her heels clicking in a rhythm against the cold concrete floor to match her tune. She halt to a stop when a grunting sound erupt from somewhere in the place.

Ari stopped, looking around cautiously to figure out the source of sound, she held her breath, trying to listen more closely.

"I'm--i'm sorry-- i don't--i won't ever go near her--again, please," the voice begged, sounding scared.

A chill ran down her spine, heart thumping loud as beads of sweat collected on her back. The sound seemed to be coming from behind the black BMW parked not far away from her own car. She was paralyzed in fear, standing there trying not to make a noise.

Was it a serial killer? Is she witnessing a murder? Does the man need help? Should she call the police?

Horrified, Ari took out her phone, with trembling fingers, she tried to dial 911.

"You better keep your fucking words. If I see you near her again, I will kill you, chop you into tiny pieces and feed you to your beloved cats. You wouldn't want them to starve now, do you? I'm sure they won't even remember you when they taste your flesh. " Said another voice that sounded a bit familiar.

She was blocked by a another car, so the person didn't spot her when he stood up and fixed his hair on the car's mirror like nothing happened, adjusting his clothes before walking away from the scene.

Ari watched with mouth hanging open as her eyes followed the figure of none other than Choi Beomgyu. Walking towards the building elevator, probably to pick you up. She was even more horrified when the other man stood up, grunting and groaning in pain. She noticed that he was in a terrible state, clothes completely torn off, blood oozed from his nose. He had a black eye around his right eyes and his lips were torn, blood already dried up. He held his stomach, groaning in pain as he limped toward, Ari assumed would be his car.

"oh, come on, I was being generous. Didn't even kill him," his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips as he continued, " Though I'm not against killing if it means keeping (y/n) with me. You both are no exception. I find it quite amusing that you think you can take her away from me. She's mine. And nothing can change that. She loves me. I will kill anyone that tries to come between us, that includes you. "

"Oh, for god's sake, she doesn't love you!," Ari growled in frustration, throwing her hands up, " You just made her believe that. You leave her no space to even think about what she truly feels for you. You and your insecure ass forbids her from seeing other people. why, you afraid she's gonna realize you're just a psychopathic loser who goes around beating up people in the name of love?! (y/n) wouldn't like that now, would she? She'd dump your ass faster than you could say write her name!"

Goosbumps rise in her skin and she didn't know whether it was from the cold that her little black dress was doing no job warming her or Beomgyu himself. She knew him like you didn't. and she knew she was making a big mistake with what she was doing. But maybe, if this small action could save you, then she was willing to take the risk.

Soobin raised his head, walking forward so he was right in front of Beomgyu, forming a somewhat protective wall between Ari and Beomgyu,"Do you have any idea what you've done is wrong?! it's sick! you almost killed someone because they talk to your girlfriend?! what the actual fuck is up with that???! There's definitely something wrong with you. Seriously wrong. And we don't trust you. You are going to hurt our friend, in fact, you already have. Which is why we're here to save her. From you "

"In simple words, break up with her and fuck off of her life, Beomgyu. You don't deserve her. You're too sick and creepy," Ari added.

When she shifted her gaze to Beomgyu, she expected to see that menacing blank expression and piercing gaze but what she saw was beyond what she was imagining.

Beomgyu's head hung low, lips puckered out and trembling like he was holding back tears as he stared at his shoes, fidgeting his fingers like a little boy getting scolded by his teacher.

She was utterly confused and relieved, thinking their words got through him until--," how could you say that to him?!" Your voice was loud, quickly approaching the scene where two of your best friends were threatening your poor boyfriend.

"(y/n)!," Ari called, " this is not what it looks like, Beomgyu tried to ki--"

"Oh, shut up, Ari, I heard you both loud and clear," you were fuming with anger, glaring at your best friend's panic covered eyes as you stood in front of Beomgyu, protecting him from Soobin if he were to do anything.

"(y/n), you got it wrong! Your boyfriend just confessed to killing people in your name!!" soobin tried, desperate to make you understand the situation.

You were so not having it. They've always been critical about Beomgyu since you started dating him, always coming up with weird conspiracy theories about him. Saying things like; something's off about him, he changes personality whenever you're not around, he has this evil look in his eyes, he was isolating you from others and so on. The most ridiculous however, would be the one Ari was telling you tonight on the phone.

Something about seeing beomgyu almost beat a guy to death. You find that funny. Really. But she sounded so serious you asked her to meet up. Unfortunately, Beomgyu insisted on coming, clinging to your arm till you said yes. And now, here you were.

"Enough is enough, guys! leave him alone. I know you don't like him but this was too much, he must be so hurt!" you said, turning to look at your boyfriend.

Your eyes immediately softened seeing his glossy eyes, illuminated by the streetlight. Oh, he looked so sad. How could they say such awful things to him?

"I'm so sorry, Beomi, are you okay?," you asked, giving him a hug that he melts into, resting his head on your shoulder and lifting his head just enough to give Soobin and Ari a shit eating smirk.

Serves you right, fuckers.

"Listen, (y/n), Beomgyu is a fucking psychopath but you can't seem to see it because you're too fucking dumb!!," Ari screamed in utter frustration.

Your eyes burned at that, turning bitterly to your once best friend, " shut it, Ari. You don't get to say that anymore. I trusted you. I never thought you, of all people, would do this to my boyfriend. That's enough, we're leaving," you said, taking Beomgyu's hand and dramatically going in between them to march to your car.

"No, wait--" too late, you were already marching towards your car, dragging Beomgyu along with you.

Soobin And Ari looked at each other in defeat when Beomgyu turned his head, smirking in a victorious way before getting into the car.

‧₊˚🖇️✩

"Beomi, love, look at me," you pleaded, cupping his face between your palms, " tell me what happened while I was gone"

You made him sit on the bed as soon as you reached home, sitting beside him to comfort him from the events of tonight.

"They--they told me to break up with you," his breathe hitched and you rubbed circles on his cheek with your thumb, nodding for him to go ahead, " and--and when I said no, I didn't want to break up with you they started to--to accuse me of gaslighting you, and that you don't really love me-- and--and"

The crack of his voice made your heart crack too, cursing who you thought were the best people on earth as you pulled beomgyu to your embrace, stroking his back up and down," Shhh..baby, its okay, i'm here. They were lying. You know I love you very much, right?"

"but- they said you find me annoying and that I'm too clingy," he looked like he was on the verge of tears and you feel yourself falling apart.

"Beomi, c'mon, i'd never say that. I love you. You're the best boyfriend I ever had. I like it when you're clingy. Forget what they said, okay? I love you and nothing that someone else says can change my mind, you hear me?" he nodded.

You smiled, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, seeing as he's calmed down. Your action made him smile, leaning into your hand that was still on his left cheek.

"Really? you love me and only me, right?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Of course, only you."

Beomgyu smiled. He never get tired of hearing that coming from your mouth. It sounded so sweet in his ears, sweeter than any melody he's ever heard. So much so that he didn't really care if you mean it or not, as long as he gets to hear it, he's perfectly content.

"I just….love you so much, you don't understand," he whispered, pulling you to his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. The familiar aroma filling his senses and taking over like it were a drug, sending him into an unexplainable bliss, " Just wanna be yours. I don't care about anything else"

It was true. As long as you held him like this, he didn't care if the world was ending, he was happy. After all, all he ever wanted was to be yours. You wouldn't believe the kind of person he'd become if you said you wanted it. he could be anything you want. And if you wanted this pathetic lover boy who's head over heels for you, then that's exactly what he was gonna be. The truth was you could slit his throat and with his one last breath, he'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt. He was empty. There was no him without you. He was just a human blank and empty for you to fill up. He was whatever you wanted him to be. And if anyone else were to kiss him, all they could taste would be your name.

"You said you love me,"

"Of course I do"

"Then prove it to me, make love to me, just make me yours…'cause," he paused looking into your eyes with so much love and dedication that made your heart skip a beat ,"that's all I ever wanna be���" And with that, Beomgyu pulled you into a kiss, a sweet kiss that showed all his emotion.

He kissed like a starved man. Like someone in love. Like someone who has nothing to lose. Or you can say he kissed like person who had just learned a foreign language and only know how to use the present tense and second form. Only now, only you.

The kiss got heated quick, with your tongue shoved in his mouth and he lets you take control, just following your lead like he knows best how. If fucking him was gonna get those words out of his mind, you had no objection in doing it. You really loved Beomgyu. But it seemed like the whole world was against your lover. They always said something was off about him, cutting you off completely when you started dating him and now even your closest friends were threatening him.

You felt bad for him. How the world treats him. So you treated him unlike them. With kindness and love and adoration and you were surprised at the changes it brought you,

"Mmm…. ah.. baby," beomgyu moaned as you pulled out from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his, "need you"

You smirked, seeing the neediness built up in his eyes. Wordlessly, you pushed him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him in a swift movement, "Let me love you tonight, m'kay, baby?" you smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Beomgyu nodded eagerly, hands resting on your hip as he looks at you with a lovestruck expression," yes, mommy," he whispered, closing his eyes contently when he sensed you connecting your lips to his again.

His calloused hands massaged your back, touching and groping anything he could get his hand on. Like he was trying to memorize each curve of your body. You, in return, kissed him with all the love you've got. How could the world be cruel to someone as sweet as Beomgyu? You couldn't understand. They made him hate himself, made him think he was a mistake.

Since the day you met him, Beomgyu always had this mysterious glint in his eyes, like a fire fading out. That dim light would burn brighter every time you looked at him and you thought you've never seen anything as beautiful as that.

"So pretty, Beomi, " you cooed, tracing your fingertips along his perfectly aligned features.

He smiled at you, the fire burning bright inside his eyes and you saw your reflection. And, god, you looked fucking gorgeous. Like a goddess. And maybe that's what you liked about him after all.

The power he gave you.

"You too, mommy, way prettier.." he mumbled, cupping your cheek.

You smiled like a woman drunk in love before going to leave featherlight kisses on his neck. You hear Beomgyu letting out a sigh of relief, relaxing in your comforting touches. You kissed his jaw, then his neck. He lets out a sharp gasp when you sucked on his skin, your teeth digging just enough to feel good and leave a mark. You continued that a few times, and you could hear his breathing getting heavier and heavier each time.

Beomgyu was never a very patient person, especially when you were sitting right on his hardened dick and leaving love bites all around his exposed neck.

He whimpered when you were still only focused on sucking hickeys on his neck. he wanted you to look in the eye as you fuck him, tell him he's yours and that you were his.

"Mommy…more--m'want more," he moaned, his hips not so slightly rutting up against your ass.

You stopped your attack on his neck, licking your lips as you meet his needy eyes filled with lust," be patient, baby. You said you wanted me to make love to you. Or do you just want me to fuck you like a little whore, hm?"

God, beomgyu loved it when you talked with that tone. That condescending tone you used with the tiny smirk tugged on your lips, you looked so evil, hot, evilly hot, he couldn't contain his whimper nor the buck of his hips. And that's all you needed from him. Your smirk growing as you get off him.

"I knew it," Beomgyu's eyes followed your figure as you sat on your knees beside him, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your white shirt, revealing the lacy trims of your red bra," little whore just wants to be fucked dumb, right? Just want to be reminded who he belongs to. Isn't that right, Beomi?" you asked, removing your shirt completely as you spoke.

Beomgyu nodded absently, practically drooling at the sight. His pants felt so tight, he wished you would just stop teasing him already and fuck him dumb like you said. His dick was throbbing at the mere sight of your beautiful body on display. He bit his lips, savoring every moment.

"Like what you see?" you asked seductively, knowing damn well the effect you had on him. Beomgyu nodded frantically, tears welling up in his eyes in need and because he knows you love tears on him. He tried to touch but you denied, "not yet, baby boy"

And with that, you removed the skirt you were wearing, revealing a matching panties to your bra.

"Oh, fuck, mommy, please--," he choked out, " stop teasing! you look so-- so goddamn beautiful, wanna touch you-- wanna feel you--"

Deciding to be generous, you smiled contently, getting on his lap once more, situating your ass right on his boner, grinding in circular motion. Beomgyu lets out an open mouthed moan, closing his eyes at the sudden pleasure.

"feels good, Beomi?" He nodded, eyes still closed," Eyes on me, Beomi."

His eyes immediately opened, looking at with helplessly as you continued to grind on his dick through the fabric of his pants.

"mommy, please-- take it-- off," he begged, hands reaching up to cup your breast. You let him, seeing how he plays with them like a kid with toy.

"Hm? what you say, baby?"

"i said, take it off. Just-- kiss me! love me! make me all yours please--" his begging had your pussy fluttering, juice gushing out quite embarrassingly.

"If you say so"

You got off him again and before he could whine at the lost of contact, you plant a chaste kiss on his lips, hurriedly buttoning down his shirt while tracing kisses along his stomach, not forgetting the purpose at all. You peppered his tummy with kisses, mumbling praises. He whined slightly as you undid his belt, removing his pants completely. He was almost naked, laying there just with his boxer through which his tip leaked.

"So hard for me, yeah?" he nodded, gripping the sheets tightly to stop himself from disobeying by touching you like he wanted," don't worry, I'll take care of that."

You took out his dick, discarding his only piece of garment somewhere in the room. His cock was hard, standing tall with precum leaking from his flushed tip. His dick almost matched his pretty face, if not more. Heat were travelling to a certain place between your thighs. But, not yet, this was about Beomgyu.

"Spread your legs for me, darling," you ordered, Beomgyu obeyed silently, spreading his legs widely just for you. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and you made sure to kiss those pink hues before situating yourself between his legs.

You slowly fisted him earning a moan from Beomgyu. His face twisted in pleasure, back arching slightly at the sensation all while he maintained eye contact with you.

With no wasted moment, you started fisted his cock, running your thumb over his tip to collect moisture and jerk him off more easily. Beomgyu whined and moaned at every sensation, your hand finally where he wants it to be and it felt too good. You hands moved faster, occasionally brushing over his tip to collect the precum.

Beomgyu was never was the quiet one in bed, so with every little movement of your hand, he was moaning your name, whimpering, whining and just straight up blurting nonsense.

"Ah~ah-ah--, oh, mommy, feels so good~~ fa--faster, mommy aaah," his knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets too tight, eyes screwed shut as tears of pleasure welled up.

But, it wasn't enough. He wanted more. This didn't felt intimate enough. He needed you. Every bit of you. Your lips, your hands all over him, choke him, hold him, kiss him, he just needed you. He wanted to hear you call him your good boy, your slut, your anything, just yours.

"Mommy-- ," your head snapped to meet his eyes, where he was looking at you with a hint of desperation and need. It didn't take long for you to figure out what he wanted.

You smiled, slowing down your frantic jerk of a hand, "oh, baby, doing so good for me. Such a good boy, aren't you?" you cooed, stroking his dick more gently.

His breath hitched, nodding along at your words and you didn't miss the way he bucked into your fist at the praise, moans growing higher in pitch. You sped up, your other hand rubbing his quivering thighs.

"Ahh~~ don't wanna-- cum yet, mommy, please--!," he pleaded, so you stopped just before he reached his orgasm.

"Oh, yeah? what does baby want, then?" you asked, climbing on top of him to trail kisses on his exposed chest, heaving up and down.

"Wanna touch you, mommy, please, can- can I?" he begged, hands practically itching to hold you and never let you go, "wanna-- wanna feel you. I want you to --to tell me you're mine. I'm good enough for you, right?"

He sounded so broken and torn, in need of assurance and you'd be damned if you didn't give it to him.

"oh, baby, you're more than enough. Of course, you can touch me," and with your permission, his hands shot up to cup your breast, kneading them between his hands. You smiled at his childsih antics, unclipping your bra and throwing it somewhere in the room to give him full access. Beomgyu moaned at the sight, lifting himself up to take one perky nipple in his mouth, sucking like a baby. You run your hands through his hair, stroking gently and enjoying his warm mouth around you.

"mmm~ taste so good," he mumbled before switching to your other nipple to give them equivalent attention. Yo let him suck for a little longer, enjoying yourself before you finally pulled him off reluctantly.

"That's enough, baby, don't you want me to fuck you?" he nodded instantly, "then, be good for me, yeah?" you said, pushing him down on the bed again.

This time, you took off your already soaked panties, aligning yourself just above his aching dick. Beomgyu lets out a gasp when you started to sink down on him, slowly and sensually. You both let out a moan when you fully sink down on him, your ass resting on his thighs. Beomgyu dug his fingers into the skin of your hips, fighting to urge to just thrust up into you instead of giving you time to adjust to his length.

"Mmmm… mommy's pussy feels so good," he moaned, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"I know, baby," you gritted out, bracing your arms around his tummy as you grind against him, stretching yourself in preparation. Beomgyu took a sharp breath, fondling with your boobs as you continued.

"So good~~" he mumbled, lost in the pleasure, mouth hanging open in complete drunkenness over your pussy. It wrapped around him so right, like it was made for him and only him.

You started to get used to his length, the pain subsiding into a wave of pleasure. So you lift your hips up before slamming back down, getting lost in the feeling of being so full of him. Of Beomgyu. His dick stuffing you so full you could feel every throb of his vein against your wet walls. And god, does it feel good!

"Look at me while I'm fucking you, Beomi," Beomgyu loved your in command voice, when you told him what to do and treated him like he was your property.

"Does it feel good? tell me, baby, do you like it? like mommy fucking you like this?" he nodded, tears falling off of his pretty lashes in pure bliss while you ruthlessly bounced on his cock, desperate to make his pretty head go empty.

"Who's dick is this?" you asked, nails digging on the flesh of his chest in possessiveness and the slight sting just added to the pleasure for Beomgyu. Whimpering and squirming as he answered.

"yours, mommy, yours! all your!," he loved the sound of that, of being yours and only yours. His hands roamed all over you, around your waist, your breast, your face, anywhere he could reach with his needy hand. But that still wasn't enough. He took your hand in his, guiding it around his neck.

"Choke me, mommy, I like it," and you did, panting as you continued you pace on his dick while squeezing your hands with enough pressure to feel good but not enough to completely suffocate him.

"look at that, my little slut likes being choked," Beomgyu whined at the name, his own hips thrusting with yours as your hand tightened around his neck. You removed your hand when he started to look pale and his eyes shoot open, disappointed. Before he had the chance to protest, you picked up your pace, now going harder than before.

"Doing so good for me, baby, I know you like it, don't you? being fucked dumb by mommy," you cooed, " So pretty, all mine." and Beomgyu nodded at that, "all yours,"

The way he so needily admits that had you clenching around him and that has him crashing down, "Ahhh~ mommy, cum--cumming, cumming," he tells you, gripping your hips so tight you knew he's gonna leave a bruise but you couldn't careless, chasing on own high as you sped up.

"Come inside me, baby, fill me up with your cum, you want that right? " he nodded again, frantically unable to use his words anymore as loud moans dragged from his filthy mouth. He was so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear you but you didn't care, not when you felt his hot cum releasing inside you, making you come as well, your juices mixed together with uneven breath.

You grind your hips softly, prolonging both your highs until you crashed on top of him, panting heavily with his cock still inside of you. Beomgyu kissed your neck, "that was amazing," he whispered.

"I know," you replied, getting off him, his dick slipping out and losing its warmth. Beomgyu whined at that, pulling you closer by the waist to hold you in place,"You feel so right....." he mumbled against your chest, his face buried against your boobs.

You smiled, " you know I love you right?"

He nodded,eyes closing in pure bliss, " not as much as I do," you chuckled, playing with strands of his hair, " you love me that much? " you joked. He nodded, " So much it hurts," he replied. You smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead," Mine." "Yours"

[mydarlingclaudia]

ENTER THE SURVIVAL HORROR…

OCTOBER FIC PLANS 𓉸

some fics I will be posting in October will contain dark content or will be dead dove (given I’ve never really written for either subject so this is new territory for me) but two of the fics I’m going to write are based on or inspired by horror movies and I’ll be writing both Chris and Leon!

also post dates and descriptions may change a tiny bit (though not likely!!) because I have actually only finished one of these fics, but if I do change anything I'll reblog this post!!

coming soon ⟢

taste no evil inspired by… THE VVITCH (10/30/24) -> Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

it's just you and your husband out in the woods. oh, and whatever is living among the trees. you think it's some beastly animal, Leon knows it's witches. but he can't tell you that, you'd freak out, insist on moving closer to town or even further away from where you already lived. Leon can keep you safe, he knows he can, why must you be so paranoid all the time? it doesn't help his case when your animals start being picked off and you start seeing things more clearly. it only ends badly for the both of you.

established relationship, tiny bit of fluff, gore, animal death, I make shit up about witches, cannibalism, major character death, au, fem!reader, re4r!Leon

how much blood would you shed to survive? based on… SAW (10/18/24) -> Chris Redfield x fem!reader

cheating doesn't make you a bad person, it's not like you were even married to the guy, Chris didn't even try to stop you from hitting on him, anyway. maybe getting romantically involved with your coworker wasn't the best decision you've made, but why should anyone else care? you don't let your relationship with him get in the way of your work, all you really do is help each other try to track down the murderer running through Raccoon City, how were you supposed to know said murderer would be your boss? and how were you supposed to know that you'd wake up in one of these traps one morning with Chris getting there surprisingly fast to help you escape?

established relationship, gore, mentions of infidelity, au, fem!reader, re5!Chris

she’s demonic and bloody, but she holds me tight inspired by… IN MY ROOM (10/10/24) -> Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

a college kid with a social life that's almost non-existent figures the dead girl that comes to his room every night is his girlfriend, some say that's a bad thing, he says it's everything he could wish for. who cares, anyway? it's not hurting anyone! well, not yet, at least. there's an endless list of things he'd do for you, you don't even have to ask. but why won't you come back after he takes care of a problem that would have torn you away from him? you love him, right?

not-really established relationship (idk how to explain it), a bit suggestive, Leon is kinda gross, necrophilia, gore, au, fem!reader, re2r!Leon

mouthful of love (10/2/24) -> Chris Redfield x fem!reader

mission gone wrong, the rest of your team had already been killed, so when you end up dying in that same mission it only makes things worse. but Chris can’t just leave you, right? no, that would be cruel, but he can’t really drag around a dead body with him either. who’s gonna know if he took a few bites out of you just to keep you with him? the place had already been crawling with monsters, it wouldn’t be a totally crazy thing to find on a corpse.

established relationship, major character death, gore, cannibalism, fem!reader, anywhere post re1 Chris

I will be using dark content and dead dove for tags so you’ll be able to filter out these fics. I don’t really expect anyone to give a shit about this but for those of you who do wanna read these thank you and happy halloween <3 I might also be posting extras if I find the time and feel like it, those are also probably going to be more cutesy fall fics sooooo

[keeksandgigz]

painkiller (part three of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: After a rocky start, you and Eddie seem to be turning over a new leaf, but a small misunderstanding is sure to change that. You help set up the cafe for the Halloween party, which you end up going to after much begging by Colette, you try to make Eddie jealous and a healthy dose of liquid courage helps things get sentimental.

cw: 4k words, jealous!eddie, swearing, allusion to smut, reader being essentially a sensitive baby, some miscommunication, eddie being a softie for reader, no y/n, no physical description of reader, boys being silly, mention of throwing up/ retching, drinking (everyone is of age), it gets a little bit fluffy towards the end

read part 1 here, part 2 here

if you wanna be added to my taglist the form is here

"You guys fucked??" Colette's voice booms in the car.

"Jesus Christ, Colette, the whole freeway didn't need to know that. And no, we didn't fuck" you take the exit that brings you into Daisy Street, the one towards the cafe.

"Then what? Steve keeps talking about how you guys look at each other like you wanna run to the back and fuck like bunnies" she nudges at you and you roll your eyes.

"Remind me to ask Steve to drive you to work next time, since you guys are such good friends" you smile at her.

"Yeah, whatever, so what happened?" she nibbles at her bagel.

You take a deep breath in. There are no secrets between you and Colette. "Well, he... spanked me" you hear her gasp, without giving her time to start talking you keep going; "Then he took me to his office and fingered me, but he didn't let me um...finish because I wouldn't apologize to him. Then he drove me home" you say, all in one breath.

"You kinky bitch" she laughs, a hearty laugh. After she comes down from her fit, she continues, almost like a phantom hand slapped some sense into her. "But what an asshole! Because you wouldn't apologize to him? And he drove you home?"

"I swear he's so confusing. He wouldn't let me take the bus." You just got your car back after two days without it because of a leak. You pull up into the parking lot.

"Shit, he's outside" you whisper. He's sitting on the curb, cigarette in hand, scrolling through his phone. Something tells you he isn't there to make drinks today. His hair is down and he's wearing chunky rings in both hands. You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it.

As much of an asshole as he is, you've been replaying the night before on a loop for the whole morning. You swallow.

"Too late to turn back and make a run for it" Colette quips as you park the car as further as possible from him.

"So what, do I just go in like 'Hey fancy seeing you here, remember when your fingers were in me last night?' or do I just ignore him?" you groan as you open your car door, grabbing your bag and jacket.

"Maybe wait for him to speak to you? I dunno. He should apologize, that was fucked" Colette says, closing the car door.

You both walk towards the cafe's front door. Eddie catches your eye immediately. Fuck it, your shift wouldn't start until two- thirty.

"Col, I'll meet you inside. Thanksgiving menu is launching soon, Steve'll have your head if you don't walk in right this second" you joke, she just nudges your shoulder and winks at you, as she disappears inside the cafe.

"Y'know" Eddie speaks, taking a long drag out of his cigarette "you shouldn't gossip about me when I can hear you from around the corner. I take it she knows?" he exhales a cloud of smoke, making you take a ragged breath at the way the smoke falls from his lips.

"Maybe you shouldn't overhear my conversations. Ever thought about that? And so what if she knows? Steve probably knows too" you spit.

"I usually don't tell Steve about the girls I fuck. Last night wasn't even a fuck, really. I just showed you what was so incredibly obvious to the naked eye, sweetheart" he puts the cigarette to his lips again.

"Which is?" you don't have patience for the slow drawl of his voice, sounding like he's just woken up. The way his fingers wrap around the cigarette, his lips puckering up as he sucks into the filter. You shiver.

"That we wanna fuck each other. Don't tell me that you're not looking at me and not thinking about what I did to you last night" Gotcha. He smiles around the cigarette.

"You really do think too highly of yourself" you sit on the curb, keeping a distance between you two.

"I've been thinking about last night the whole morning" he blurts out, putting his cigarette out on the sole of his boots “It was good, but you were kind of a bitch about me not letting you cum. Maybe you should rethink about apologizing” he smirks towards you.

“Well, I don't think last night should have happened at all" you shrug, pretending like the way he's playing with his chain bracelet isn't affecting you. He turns towards you.

"Is that so?" he says, voice a bit lower, gravelly. You inhale, then nod. 

He takes out a stack of black papers from a folder in his messenger bag, you take the chance to change the subject.

"What's that?" you ask, trying to peek over the the wall of black posters.

"The posters for the Halloween party next week. My friend Nancy just designed and printed them out for me. I scheduled you on Friday to come in and help with decorating, I'll pay you extra, since it's not in your job description. I'll talk to Jim about it" it's a lie, he just wants to spend more time with you.

"Am I required to come to this thing?" you interject, taking one of the posters in your hands, it's very well designed.

"Well, no. But the staff is invited anyway and I'm gonna be at the bar making free drinks, once a year we turn our bad boy coffee bar into a, y'know bar bar" he says, a movement of his ringed hand follows it.

"Oh, so you're a bartender too? What concoction are you gonna brew for this party, Mr. Alchemist?" you ask, chin propped on your hands. A flirtatious lilt to the way you talk, you bat your eyelashes.

"Guess you gotta come to find out" he winks and stands up, opening the side door to his van.

"Where are you going?" you ask, squinting to look at his face, the sun in your eyes.

"These posters aren't gonna hang themselves around town, are they? I just came here to hang one on the bulletin board and one on the door. Wanna come?"

You're not sure how to feel. He's suddenly being nice to you? And you wanna say yes so badly for some reason, maybe because you're tired of fighting with him and he seems like an actually cool person to be around?

"My shift starts in five minutes" you say, standing up and dusting off your butt.

He shrugs his shoulders "Consider this your shift? You're still technically helping me with the cafe" his tone is bordering a whine, can this man be that desperate to want you to come with him?

You really are pondering your options, it doesn't feel normal that you'd want to go with him instead of a chill shift without Eddie Munson's hovering eyes.

"You coming or not? And the pun was intended" he chuckles to himself as you hit him in the arm.

"You're an asshole" Alright, fuck it.

"You win" you grumble, jumping on the passenger seat of his van. The same van you were in the night before, cursing the man because he had left you unsatisfied.

In the back of the van there are stacks of boxes full of prints. You reach for the black poster he was holding earlier.

"What's 'Corroded Coffin'?"

"The band I'm in" he says, a creeping smile on his lips. Nonchalant, like he hadn't dropped a heavy piece of Eddie lore.

"'Kay so, you're a barista, a bartender, a business owner and you're in a band?!" eyes wide in disbelief as a smug expression appears on the boy's lips.

"The four b's, baby" he laughs "Me, Jeff, Gareth and another dude have been in this band since high school, tried to strike out but uhhhh different plans I guess" his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

"Lemme guess, you're the drummer?" you ask, finding yourself oddly at ease as he drives the car around town.

He shakes his head, his ratty curls moving around his face "Lead guitar and singer" lips pulled taut in a thin smile, face scrunched up.

"Shut the fuck up, I hate you! That's why you're so fucking slappable" he laughs at your comment as he thrums his ringed fingers along with Love me like a Reptile on the steering wheel. You gulp.

"That's why you're so good with your fingers, then?" it escapes you before you can even register what your brain is computing, but he's turning on his indicators to pull over, because he's quite literally doubled over with laughter.

"Jesus I did a number on you, didn't I sweetheart?" he says in the midst of his fit, and you can feel yourself getting hot, embarrassed, like he's making fun of you.

You really thought that things between you two had smoothed over, but the way he's laughing at you has your cheeks growing in anger, the cockiness exuding from him doesn't spur you on or stoke whatever fire you're kindling, rather it makes you feel humiliated.

You grab your bag and coat, immediately opening the latch to the door of his van. Eddie stops laughing immediately.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he asks, head jerking towards you.

“If you’re gonna be an asshole about it, then you can hang your fucking posters by yourself. I’m going back to the store to do what I am actually paid for. Fuck you, Eddie” and he barely has time to reply before you slam the door of his van and you book it back towards the cafe.

The shift feels uneventful, until Colette and Steve take you to the kitchen to sample the menu for the party.

The boy fixes the glasses on his nose as he shows you strawberry brain jellies, spider falafels, mini spiderweb pizzas, and the sketch of a big Halloween cake.

“That was Steve’s idea, actually. It’s blueberry and cream cheese filling on one tier and then I think custard on the second one. You’re gonna die, Steve’s custard is actually to die for” and he blushes at that, a quick brush of his face as his eyes twinkle at the compliment.

Steve and Colette have been spending a lot of time together after all, you chuckle to yourself as you reach for the spoons with the cream filling samples. Colette was not wrong, that custard is an incredible explosion of lemon and milk and vanilla, you're astounded that Steve and Colette were able to pull this off in such a short time.

There isn't much you can tell them, as their culinary talent greatly exceeds yours, wondering why they didn't ask Eddie to do the tasting, who seemed nowhere to be found for the rest of your shift.

On Friday, he seems to be quite busy with various movers and decoration people to even pay attention to you as Jeff stands on a ladder with you yelling "higher!" every time he tries to hang a string of lights.

"Well, I'm a barista, not a fucking architect" he yells from atop of the ladder, as Gareth rolls out a bunch of boxes sitting in a cart.

"What's that?" you ask, still making Jeff mess with the purple string lights “to the right, man!”

You hear him groan.

"Our twelve- foot skeleton" he replies, taking the plastic parts out "good thing our ceilings are tall" he snickers as Jeff finishes setting up the lights and comes down.

"Why the fuck do you have a twelve- foot skeleton?" you lean against the ladder, watching him take the bone parts out of the boxes and setting up the first few bits.

"Eddie thought it would be hilarious if we got one our first year of doing these Halloween parties. We usually get the skeleton something stupid to wear, this year it's a giant clown nose" he laughs as you move the ladder towards him to help facilitate the building of this fucking monster of a decoration.

By the time night rolls, the coffee machines have been removed for the party and replaced with liquors, spirits, glasses and shakers.

Finally Eddie comes out of his office, hair mussed out of his messy bun, eyes puffy and tired as his eyes widen at the decorated party room around him. 

Red, orange and purple lights hang around the perimeter of the walls, along with orange tulle fabric and various decorations on the theme of bats, skeletons and pumpkins. The twelve- foot skeleton stood tall in that stupid clown nose, at which he laughed at. He shot you a pained look before leaning on the bar counter. 

“Wow you guys, you’ve really outdone yourselves this year” he mutters, taking a close look around at all the decorations. 

“It was the girls, really, they’ve just been bossing us around the whole day” Gareth responds “we’ve just been their lackeys” he laughs. 

“Regardless of that, I just wanted to thank you all for the splendid job, we should be expecting around 150 people in here tomorrow night, hope you guys are ready to party. Now get the fuck out of here” Eddie says as he motions for you and everyone else to leave as the guys protest “go get some rest, it’s literally midnight”

There’s a clamor of voices as you vacate the cafe, discussing costumes for the party, how fucked up everyone’s gonna get- Eddie being the last to leave and lock the door. 

Before heading to his van, though he surpasses you, walking to your car. 

“I trust you’ll be there tomorrow? You must be fun at parties, right?” he snickers, you roll your eyes. 

“Sorry, Ed, previous engagement I have to attend to. Devastated to be missing the party of the decade, I’ll send a postcard” you unabashedly lie, there’s no reason you should be going to that party.

You give him a sour smile and head towards your car, as he stands stunned in the middle of the parking lot.

Without much ceremonies, you and Colette get in the car. 

“Are you actually not going tomorrow?” your friend is outraged, a betrayed tone tinging her words. 

“I dunno, I really don’t wanna see Eddie’s stupid face, plus I don’t have a costume” you shrug, entering the freeway. 

You could do what you’ve always done since college- a sexy cat, make Eddie sizzle a bit, an unspoken revenge towards that unsatisfactory night where he refused to push you off the edge. 

You don’t know what this is, whatever game you both are playing, a never ending tug of war of power and stupid fucking remarks at the expense of one another- why can’t you just sleep with him and get it over with? 

“I’ll get you a fucking costume, babe! Just please come, Steve is being really weird to me and trying to ask me out, I’ll buy you lunch, dinner- anything” she begs, and you don’t see why Steve asking her out should be an issue, he’s handsome and the way he looks at her and the way she talks about him seems to be special, something you’ve never had in a person. 

“Colette, I honestly do not see the problem in Steve trying to ask you out. You like him!” you bang your hands on the steering wheel in frustration, why can’t anything ever be easy?

“I like him in the sense that I want to fuck him, not go out with him. Besides, Gin isn’t going and Chrissy has a midterm Monday so she’s gonna have to dip early. Do you really wanna leave me in the middle of a pool of nerdy men?” she’s whining and pleading with you, it almost makes you fold. Almost. 

“C’mon, I wouldn’t dream of doing that to you” she bats her big eyes, and she’s right, she wouldn’t do that to you because she knows that men put you off, being surrounded by them even so. 

“Alright, fine, and you don’t have to get me a costume. Sexy cat is the way to go” you grin at her as she gets out of the car blowing you a kiss. 

“I love love love you, I’ll see you tomorrow” Colette runs inside after that. 

You can’t say no to her. 

And that’s why you find yourself in the midst of countless amounts of people, a third martini and a couple shots in and Colette is nowhere to be found. 

Eddie, on the other hand, is at the bar. Tight, black, form fitting shirt, his face looking pale and pasty as a rivulet of what looked like fake blood dripped out of his mouth. You could only see it when he smiled, but he had glued fake fangs on his incisors- a vampire, how original. 

You approach him at the bar, mind already loosened and buzzed, as he’s pouring a drink out. 

“Was expecting something more original than a vampire from you” you scream over the music. A smile creeps on his lips, and you have to admit, the fangs are really doing it for you. 

“I was expecting nothing less from you, though.Thought you weren’t coming?” he leans against the bar counter, his arms flexing from the exertion of shaking drinks for the past hour and a half. You stare, and he’s sure you are.

“Didn’t wanna come, Colette begged me to save her from Steve asking her out, so now I’m here” you take one last swig out of your martini glass “that’s really good, actually, can I have another one?”

Eddie shakes his head “Steve’s asking Colette out? When was this?”

You shrug “apparently it’s been going on for a while. Honestly, I don’t know how she does it, I would not be able to resist Steve’s cute little puppy eyes” and here it is. The drunken ramble. 

“Honestly I don’t know how you all do it, I’d be ogling at Steve and not getting any work done, actually. Have you seen his arms?” you giggle, maybe at an attempt to make Eddie jealous, maybe because those were your actual thoughts. 

Either way, that made Eddie’s stomach turn in a way that he wasn’t liking. How you were staring at Steve, in his Marty McFly costume, the tight pants and the coiffed hair- biting your lip like you weren’t talking about his best friend.

He chalked it up to drunkenness, the intoxication vivid on your blushy cheeks, as jealousy bubbled in the back of his mind, a small version of himself in his head wishing you’d talk about him like that. 

“Yeah, I’m not making you any more martinis” he says, a dry chuckle escaping him. 

“Boo, first you don’t make me cum and then you take the martinis away from me? You’re an absolute bore, Eddie Munson” and you fake yawn with that, a silly laugh follows it. 

“Sweetheart, you might not want to talk about that in a room full of people” he leans against the counter, and his fangs are looking really good in the glistening purple party lights.

“Are you suggesting we go somewhere private to talk about it?” you wiggle your eyebrows, which makes Eddie’s eyes roll. 

Taking care of your drunk self for the rest of the night is the last thing he wants to do. 

“No, I’m suggesting you go home. You’re drunk” he yells, shaking another drink and pouring it into a cup.

“I’m actually fine, thank you. I’m gonna go talk to Steve” pettily you stand up, turning away from him and booking it towards Steve, who is trying to talk to Colette. 

You don’t make it far, though as you go back to the bar wobbling, stomach churning with bile threatening to leave your mouth. 

“Eddie, I don’t feel so good” and he damns himself for how fast he comes around the bar to drag you to the employee bathroom. 

You’re kneeled on the black tile, dress hiking up your thighs as Eddie holds your hair as you fight for your life bent over the toilet. 

Eddie’s hand is running up and down your spine, the thin shirt making you feel every ridge and callus, as he feels your back flex and relax with every retch.

“It’s okay, let it out” he says, every time you tense up. You’re sobbing in between. 

Cries of “I’m sorry, Eddie” and “It’s okay, I got it, you can go” echo in the tiled room, but he stays. His hand firmly planted on your back, caressing, a stoic expression on his face when you emerge, finally done and a bit more clear- headed. 

“You good to stand up?” he asks, you nod meekly as he hooks his arms around yours, holding you up to walk to the sink. He opens the cabinet and takes out a little bottle of mouthwash, still holding an arm around you to help you stand. 

“Wash your mouth, then take some of this” you watch him bewildered as he opens the faucet, and you lean over the sink, the fresh water is a relief against the acidity your taste buds have had to endure, not caring that it would wipe some of your makeup off. 

“‘M sorry, Eddie” you mumble in a whine, between gurgling the tap water and spitting it out. 

“It’s okay, I’ll drive you home after this” he says, as he turns off the faucet and feeds you the blue liquid, watching you rinse and gargle it, spitting it out. 

“I’m okay now” you sigh, defeat in your voice as you escape from his grasp to sit down on the tiled floor. 

Concern tinges his face as he runs to sit next to you “Do you have to throw up again?” you shake your head. 

He looks at you, eyes glossy and a bit teary, your nose and cheeks reddened from the alcohol, or from the exertion of throwing up, your lips swollen. God, he really wants to kiss you. 

“Thank you, Eddie” it’s a whisper, ashamed as you look at him. Fangs and all, with the bright white fluorescents hitting him, hair mussed up and sweaty and a look in his eyes that makes you soften a bit. 

“Yeah, it’s- uh- no problem” he mumbles, he sees you shiver. He wants to put an arm around you, give you his jacket that he left in his office, but he wouldn’t dare leave you for fear of you leaving him and not coming back. 

So you just hold yourself flush against him, he’s still warm from the crowded room of bodies and smells like a smoky cologne, leathery with a hint of coffee. The fluorescent lights buzz and it’s the only sound in the bathroom and he tries to fight the urge to not put an arm around you, but when he does, you look at him. Big brown eyes staring into yours, bewildered and a little relieved, you haven’t run away yet. 

The makeup around your eyes is a bit smudged from the sobbing, stray glitter under your bottom eyelashes, he silently puts his thumb on it, getting black make-up and glitter all over his finger as his hand rests on your cheek. You blink. 

The breath in his chest is trapped, waiting with bated breath for you to come to your senses, leave him angry on the bathroom floor, like you did a few days before. 

Instead you stay, as you move in and kiss him.

taglist: @reidsbtch, @vintagehellfire, @fckyeahlames, @lavendermunson, @sunnythefriendlyghost, @onegirlmanytales, @aphrogeneias, @cryingglightningg, @munsonsuccubus, @strangereads, @gothvamp1973, @boomitsallie1, @thottywizard, @ali-r3n, @reysorigins, @yunirgo, @stqrgirl3, @neville-is-my-husband, @keikoraven, @minorlystuck13, @seexyyprincess, @sunnythespookyghost, @capricornrisingsstuff, @mandyjo8719, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @hellfirenacht, @str4ngergirlw0rld, @strangerstilinski,

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 5

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |-| Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

AO3

Summary: A nearby air raid forces Susie to confront the past

Warnings: Drinking, alcohol, death/description of dead body, angst again yayyyy

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

The band was in full swing, the sound of Egan's terrible singing almost drowned out by the overlapping din of music and conversation that filled the officers' club, the flight crews toasting another successful mission. Susie couldn't recall what the mission had been about - she wasn't even sure anyone had told her in the first place. She'd gotten used to taking Meatball without question and going about her day - what the pilots did never affected her, save for the faint sense of anxiety that had begun to permeate her during the hours they were away. It was unnerving.

"Oh, you have got to be shitting me," Maeve huffed, eliciting a proud laugh from Charlotte as she forked over another fistful of the peanuts they'd acquired from the bar to act as poker chips.

"Call it a punishment for being so young and sprightly," Charlotte shrugged, a smug grin curling her lip as she took her share. They had acquired a table in the back corner of the club, far from the dancing but comfortably close to the alcohol, Charlotte's huge engagement ring and Susie's resting-bitch-face a foolproof deterrent to protect them from any unwanted attention.

"She's just jealous, Maeve - her freedom's running out, and she's taking it out on us," Susie smirked, reaching for the bottle of wine in the middle of the table to refill their glasses. It was a recurring joke among the women - that Charlotte's engagement had only been dragged out as far as it had because she secretly dreaded being 'tied down', dreaded losing her individuality and becoming one of those stereotypical housewives, like the girls Susie had never gotten along with growing up. It was all in jest. Her sisters were married, and most were decently happy. But it had never been a future Susie had been able to picture for herself, and maybe that was why she felt the need to poke fun.

"Ha-ha," Charlotte drawled sarcastically, and Maeve let out another sigh of despair as she turned over another card. "You'll be the only ones showing up to the wedding alone with that attitude - two old spinsters in the back."

The sound of whimpering distracted the group from their petty bickering as Meatball padded over, resting his head dramatically in Susie's lap, ear twitching against her thigh. As she reached for a couple of the peanut-poker-chips, tossing them into the dog's waiting mouth, the other two let out cries of annoyance, and Maeve hunched over the table, beginning to try and count how many remained.

"Ladies," From behind her, DeMarco approached, drink in hand as he surveyed the state of their table - peanuts scattered all over the place, interspersed with an almost-empty bottle of wine and several glasses, their playing cards tattered and stained. The game was a mess, entirely indecipherable to anyone except the three of them.

"Your dog's eating our poker chips," Charlotte stated dryly.

"Susie's fault!" Maeve added, reaching over to scratch behind Meatball's ear.

"Oh, I'm sure," He nodded, smirking faintly as he lifted his glass to his lips. His other hand rested on the back of Susie's chair, fingers occasionally brushing against her back when she moved.

Susie stared down at her hand of cards. Her gaze had not shifted to look at him since the moment he arrived. "Thought you usually dance at these things. Why don't you go ask... Gwen, or someone. She'd probably say yes."

"I don't wanna dance with Gwen," Benny shrugged. "I came over here to see if you'd dance with me."

Maeve's brow raised, shooting Susie a pointed look, but she didn't notice, playing her turn. "Can't. Busy."

He peered over her shoulder at the cards in her hand. She was losing. Badly, in fact. "... I can see that."

Charlotte stared across at him, noticing the way his brow furrowed, frown deepening slightly as he noticed Susie's hand. "DeMarco has a terrible poker face."

"Oh, dammit!" Susie huffed, turning sideways in her chair to whack him across the arm with her cards. With a stubborn frown, she tossed her cards down onto the table, and Maeve let out a sigh of relief at the game's sudden ending. "Enjoy your peanuts, Charlotte. I hope your wedding sucks."

Standing up from her seat, she came face to face with DeMarco, who appeared slightly appalled at her last remark. "Jesus, sore loser much?"

"Wouldn't have lost if you could keep a straight face."

"I don't think anything could've saved you there, sweetheart," He admitted as she reached for her wine, pouring the last of the red liquid down her throat. It clearly wasn't her first glass - the slight flush in her cheeks could attest to that - but she was holding it well, her aggression no more irrational than usual.

"So?" DeMarco prodded.

"So... what."

He put his empty glass down on the nearest table, holding out his hand for her to dance. Susie hesitated for a moment before letting out a scoff, rolling her eyes as she took his hand in hers, letting him lead her towards the dancefloor.

"You know I hate dancing," She pointed out somewhat bitterly.

"You hate most things. And you're a nice dancer."

"God, I don't like you."

"See, that’s just not true," DeMarco grinned. "Hurtful. But not true."

Susie couldn't stop herself from smiling, looking down at her feet as they moved in time with the music. "There she is," She could hear the smirk in his voice and tilted her head back up to face him, biting her lip to stop a chuckle as she refused to meet his eye. He was staring. She could feel it, resisting the urge to squirm.

"Stop it," She shook her head, pushing against the palm that held hers.

"Stop what?"

"Staring."

That boyish grin never wiped itself from his expression as he tilted his head sideways to get a better look at her. Susie couldn't reciprocate his gaze, not when he looked at her like that, turning away as a nervous chuckle escaped her throat. DeMarco felt her grip on his hand slip, and was about to speak again when a sudden interruption sounded.

"Come on everybody! Bike race in the mess hall! Who's in?"

The very moment the invitation was issued, the crowds began to disperse, couples fleeing the dance floor in a dash to the door, their ranks thinning by the second. Susie pulled away, hands dropping to her sides as she took a step back. "That sounds like your cue, DeMarco."

His hand was still raised where it had been when she'd held it, and as she turned away to find her friends, he let out a long sigh. "...Damn it all."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She found Charlotte and Maeve halfway along the path to the mess hall, a new bottle of wine in Charlotte's hand as they passed it between themselves, sipping straight from the neck. Susie stepped in seamlessly, announcing her arrival by tugging it from Maeve's grip, the tart liquid running smoothly down her throat.

"Thought you were off with your pilot," Charlotte teased, stealing the bottle as soon as she was done.

"He's racing. I'm babysitting again," She raised Meatball's leash, and Maeve let out a slight gasp of delight as she noticed the dog trailing along beside them, tail wagging in satisfaction.

DeMarco dragged his bike into position beneath the mess hall lights, shouldering for space among the crowd of pilots, pressed together so tightly he barely had room to pedal. Buck and Bucky had pushed their way to the front, exchanging grins with him as they passed, and all around the edges of the room spectators pressed themselves up against the wall, waiting anxiously for the race to begin.

His gaze searched the crowds distractedly, not quite attuned to the announcer's instructions as he searched for Susie among them. When he spotted her, he couldn't help but let out a laugh, drawing the confused stares of the men beside him. She was stood in the far corner with her friends, cradling Meatball in her arms like a giant baby so that he wouldn't get underfoot and trip any of the cyclists in all of the excitement. Her head was turned away from him, talking to Charlotte, but every now and then one of the other women would raise the wine bottle they were sharing up to her lips, a red droplet running down her chin where it missed.

Maeve must have told a joke, for Susie suddenly began to laugh, nose scrunched, eyes screwed tightly shut. The sight made him smile, and the sudden bang! of the starting pistol startled him, pushing off with a clumsy start and almost knocking over the man beside him as the race began.

Her expression contorted into momentary horror as DeMarco seemed to almost crash before even crossing the starting line, but he quickly found his footing, and her friends let out cheers of encouragement as the men zipped past, navigating the twists and turns with reckless abandon. Meatball let out a howl, mimicking the whooping of the crowd, and she laughed, the wine beginning to go to her head.

All three of them had begun to go red in the face, everything seemingly far funnier than it had been an hour ago. And as Cleven and Egan screwed it up on their final corner, their bikes taking a tumble, knocking down the cyclists behind them in turn, it suddenly seemed one of the funniest things they'd ever seen, tears brewing in Susie's eyes as she let out a cackle of laughter.

DeMarco had just managed to avoid the crash, wheeling to a stop and a long, sobering siren split the air. The energy in the room didn't seem to dissipate for a moment, realisation about what was happening encroaching slowly, but the sound had ripped Susie out of her somewhat-drunken haze instantly, a sudden nausea bubbling in her stomach.

Her gaze darted wildly across the room, waiting for the rest of them to notice, to get up and move. It wasn't until Charlotte shot her an unnerved glance that she realised her breathing had quickened, coming sharp and ragged, panic clearly visible in her expression.

"It's ok, we're good," She assured her, a hand on her arm as she put Meatball down, his claws skittering against the linoleum. "Let's go, yeah?"

Susie nodded firmly, making a beeline for the door just as the situation seemed to become apparent to the rest of the room, the cyclists collecting their bikes and calmly departing for the air raid shelters. Leaving the warmth of the mess hall and stepping out into the cool night air seemed to make it easier to breathe, panic beginning to subside as she took in their surroundings - the squat Nissen huts, the rolling countryside in the distance.

This wasn't the city. This wasn't home. No one was out to get her here.

But then she reached the top of the stairs to the shelter. Staring down at the dark doorway, she couldn't take that next step, couldn't descend below ground level to wait it out.

"You take Meatball and go down," Susie turned to Maeve, pressing his leash into her hand. "I'll come in a minute."

"Okay," Her friend nodded, looking up at her with concern as she took the dog down the steps, disappearing into the shelter with the others. People flooded past as she pushed against the tide, pulling away from the crowd and stepping back into the grass.

The sky lit up with dozens of colours, explosions of flame and flak smoke like blots of watercolour against the clouds. The hum of engines and the rattle of anti-aircraft guns were far from unfamiliar sounds to Susie's ears as she sat down on the lawn, pressing her hands into the grass, tethering herself to the knowledge that it was different here - that they weren't the target.

She'd been awoken by these sirens so many times before, listening to the rustle of bedsheets beside her as Ellie scrambled awake, shaking her shoulders until she got up. Susie couldn't even remember why Ellie hadn't been home the night they'd killed her. All she remembered was sitting in the shelter with her mother, and the blinding daylight as they reemerged the next morning.

"Hey," A voice broke her train of thought, tugging her gaze from the planes that circled above like moths to a flame. The woman standing above her was dressed in a WAAF uniform, frizzy brown hair falling to her shoulders, an unlit cigarette between her lips. She recognised her, but she couldn't quite pinpoint who she was.

"Hi," Susie nodded, brow furrowing slightly as the woman sat down beside her. She stared at her for a long moment, watching the way flickers of orange light flashed across her face as the fighting continued above.

"... You're the mechanic, right?"

The woman smiled, holding out a hand to her. "Frankie."

She accepted, shaking it gingerly. "Susie."

Frankie nodded, and Susie accepted a cigarette as she held the box out to her. "Not many people 'round here with an accent like yours."

"Manchester."

"...Ah," She let out a long sigh, clearly piecing things together immediately. "I got friends in Coventry."

"Everything's a shitshow," Susie huffed, lighting her cigarette, and Frankie let out a low hum of agreement, leaning back on her elbows.

"We're okay out here, though."

"My sister... Got a sister in London. One of the plotters. She'll be all over this."

"My friend George takes their telegrams."

They sat in silence for a long moment, and Susie suddenly realised she was still carrying the half-empty bottle of wine, too consumed by panic at the mess hall to have bothered putting it down.

"... You want some?" She offered, holding it out to Frankie.

"Oh, thanks," She smiled, tipping it by the neck and taking a long sip. Susie couldn't stomach the idea of drinking anymore. She didn't reach for it back, and Frankie didn't pass it.

Sucking in a long, tight breath, Susie lay back, feeling the damp grass against her scalp. 'My sister...' She'd almost told her. A complete, utter stranger, and she'd almost let it slip. She almost told everyone these days. Ellie's body had been dragged out from the rubble, pale and battered and limp, but it hadn't been her. Not truly. Her body was an empty vessel - whatever had truly been her had slipped away the moment her head caved in. It seemed as if every room she entered now, she brought with her a silent cry of ‘Have you seen my sister?’, a quiet search for her soul in the eyes of others.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It lasted just less than an hour. As soon as the planes had arrived, they were gone again, the sky falling flat and black, the buzzing silenced. Frankie had said something to her before she left, but Susie hadn't been listening. When she looked up, the mechanic was gone. So was the wine.

Her watch had just ticked past midnight by the time she sat up, smoothing down her damp hair with one hand as she rose to her feet. Something bubbled within her, something caught in her throat that made her feel all at once about to vomit and about to weep. She took a deep breath, watching as people began to clamber out of the shelter across the lawn. DeMarco was with them, a part of the dispersing crowd of spectators, and even through the darkness, he caught her gaze, a frown creasing his brow. They drifted towards each other as they walked, meeting halfway.

"Where were you?" He asked. "You were supposed to be in the shelter."

"So were you," She huffed. He could tell something was bothering her. She reached up to scratch her nose every other second, an incessant, phantom itch that she couldn't conquer. "D'you have a phone?"

"... Are you ok?"

"Fine. Just need to call someone."

DeMarco frowned, watching her expression keenly. "There's one in the officers' club. I'll walk you over."

She was surprised the place was still open, the door hanging slightly ajar, left open as its inhabitants had hurried to find shelter. The bulbs buzzed as he flicked the lights on, showing her over to the bar where a phone waited on its hook. He hesitated for a moment, watching her hand twitch as she tried to remember the number, the dial rattling as she turned it. Susie looked up at him, and he took it as his cue to leave, the door closing behind him with a click as she was left alone, glancing around at the half-finished drinks and still-smoking cigarette butts that littered the room as she waited for the other person to pick up.

An irritated groan sounded on the other end of the line, and she could hear the rustling of sheets as she waited to speak.

"Hello? What is it?" Beatrice huffed, sleep lining her voice.

"Hey. It's me."

"Susie? What do you want?"

Her sister always had such a way with pleasantries. "Just watched a raid over... Norwich, I think. I was wondering if... if you knew anything?"

"Wasn't my shift," She replied curtly. Susie could picture her now, half sitting up in bed, rollers in her hair as she leant against the headboard, scowling.

"Oh, right," She paused, mentally scrambling for something to say before Beatrice hung up. "Is your husband there?"

"No. Staying in his flat, probably with his girlfriend."

"... Ah."

It was quiet for a moment, before she heard her sister let out an irritated huff. "What do you actually want, Suze? I know you don't care about bloody Norwich."

Beatrice's accent had changed since she'd left Manchester - she'd married rich, and she'd made sure she had something to show for it. But whenever she got annoyed, that familiar northern drawl seeped back through.

"I was just... I dunno, I needed to talk to someone."

"You were thinking about Ellie, weren't you?" Beatrice asked. The silence stretched out between them, and it was all the answer she needed, letting out a sigh. "You've gotta get unstuck, Suze. You can't live like this forever."

"I'm not stuck," She replied indignantly, brow furrowed.

"Yes. You are. None of us ever saw you cry after it happened - you never felt it like the rest of us, you never let yourself move on."

Susie bristled, suddenly defensive. "I'm just not like you - I was always braver than the rest of you."

"No, that's the opposite of what you are," Beatrice thundered. "You're a coward, Susie - you don't ever move on with your life because to do that you've gotta feel something other than fucking angry. You were there when they found Ellie and I know the rest of us weren't, I know it's different. But stop making that everyone else's fucking problem and just deal with it."

"She was my-"

"She was my little sister too! But so are you! I'm sick of listening to you make excuses for why you just wallow in it - it's been years since I've seen you not miserable, and it's your own fault. You know I love you. And I'm only being like this because everyone else in our family is much too bloody nice. But get over it, Susie."

She'd been gnawing at the inside of her lip the entire time she'd been listening to Beatrice speak. With a hiss, Susie realised she'd broken the skin, a droplet of blood pooling in her mouth, coating her tongue with a sour, metallic flavour.

She wanted to snap - a thousand cruel words poised on her tongue, a hundred things to hurl back at Beatrice. But not one would have made her point any less true. Tears were forming in her eyes, blotting out her vision until she could barely see an inch in front of her face. Susie squeezed her eyes tightly shut, feeling them roll down her cheeks, leaving warm, wet trails in their wake.

"Susie?" Beatrice's voice came tentatively, and she realised it had been a few minutes since she'd uttered a sound.

"Goodnight, Beatrice," Her voice came firm, hanging up before her sister could reply.

Suddenly the silence in the officers' club was too much to bear. She felt as if she were about to explode, the hot sting of tears in her eyes, the sudden, painfully breathlessness in her throat all too foreign, too frightening. Susie opened her mouth to suck in a breath, a hoarse, choking sound ripping through her, the air getting stuck before it could reach her lungs. She felt her expression contort in anguish, and the first, involuntary sob broke free. Once the floodgates opened, they couldn't close, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fought to catch a breath, fumbling blindly as she crossed the room to the door, desperate to be anywhere else.

The door to the officer's club swung open easily, and Susie stormed out into the night, chest heaving up and down over and over as she sobbed, hands trembling. She turned her head, caught off guard just long enough for a sob to catch in her throat, coming out as a hiccup as she spotted DeMarco, throwing up her hands in frustration. He'd been leaning up against the wall as she came out. He had waited for her.

"Susie? Hey," DeMarco hurried forward, expression twisted in worry. He reached for her hands, thumbs rubbing against the backs of her palms. His voice was so incredibly gentle, more than she'd ever heard it. "Hey, c'mon."

Susie's lip trembled, and she let out a croak as she fought to catch her breath, heart beating too fast for her body. He sighed, letting go of her hands to wrap his arms around her, pulling her forwards against his chest. It was too close. For a split second, she wanted to push him away, to peel his touch away from her body.

But it was so warm here. Her head turned to the side, her ear pressed up against his ribcage, she could hear his heartbeat, soft and steady. In the cage of his arms, for the first time in a long time, she felt tethered to something. She had balled her hands into fists. Slowly, they unfurled, and she wrapped her arms around him, hands resting against his spine.

"My sister didn't die. She was killed." She whispered, voice muffled against his jacket, just loud enough to hear. "They bombed her factory. I was there when they pulled her out."

Everything suddenly came into alarming clarity. DeMarco nodded, releasing a long sigh. He brought a hand up to the back of her head, her curls snaking around his fingertips as he gently stroked her hair.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," He uttered, tilting his head downwards, his nose pressed against her forehead.

"I want to. You waited."

"I thought you looked a little spaced out earlier. After the raid. So that was because-?"

"Yeah."

"Jesus. I'm sorry, Suze."

"It was a few years ago, now."

"That doesn't make it okay, though. Does it?"

She looked up at him then. In the darkness, her eyes looked like bottomless pools, the brown turned black in the starlight.

"... No. It doesn't."

A few strands of hair had stuck to her cheek where her tears had begun to dry. He lifted a hand to brush them away, the warmth of her skin against his fingertip so wonderfully soft. Susie sniffed, and it was as if some trace had broken, her arms tugging away from him, the squeeze against his back suddenly gone as she stepped back. Exhaustion tugged down at her face, dark circles forming beneath her eyes. She looked so helpless it almost broke his heart.

"God," She sighed, running a hand across her brow. "I don't-... I don't know, I don't think I wanna go back to my hut. Too many questions."

"Ok," DeMarco nodded. "That's ok. I know a place. C'mon."

Susie had no idea where he would take her. Perhaps if she'd been in any better state she would've refused. But she wasn't. She was tired, and he was kind. Her mind was clouded over, thoughts barely half-formed.

But she trusted him. She'd gotten him out of the middle of nowhere when their truck broke, and now he was getting her out when she did.

"... Alright."

[kingkorvusarchive]

Do What You Can To Stay Sane...ish

Description: When Dean was a young 21 year old, he discovered the most wonderful medication. It made him feel relaxed, like the weight of the literal world wasn't on his shoulders. At least for a little while.

"What's that?" Dean asked Lee, who had just taken a large puff off a joint he rolled. "Weed." Lee simply replied, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of Dean. "It's like a cig but way better." "Dude!" Dean panicked for a moment, "Put that out! My dad could catch us." "Relax." Lee soothed, patting Dean's cheek gently, "Why the hell else would I ask you to take a walk in the middle of the night?"

That's true. Lee did wake Dean up super early in the morning, asking if they could go on a walk. Even though Dean had protested for a minute, Lee was able to convince him to go with after promising to do the coffee run in the morning.

After they had moped through a small, wooded area for a while, they decided the clearing that faced the empty meadow was a good enough spot to stop and sit for awhile. They usually did this extra early in the morning, like 3 to 4 in the AM. It was the only time they could be alone. Talking about whatever they want without John having something to say. It was the only time they really felt like they could actually be themselves.

Dean watches as Lee brings the joint to his lips, wrapping them around the filter, taking a long, deep draw from it. The ember from the end illuminated the blue of Lee's eyes, though it was so dark. Lee rolled his eyes towards Dean, catching him admiring. Dean quickly looked the opposite direction, the blush creeping up on his cheeks slowly.

"You wanna try?" Lee asked, tapping Dean's knee with the same hand holding the joint.

Dean looked down at the joint, suddenly becoming a deer in headlights. He had never really tried anything other than cigarettes and beer with his dad.

"Here." Lee said, taking the joint back and turning his whole body towards Dean. "How about I just blow the smoke at you for starters, just so you can smell it." Dean's eyes were shiny as he nodded slowly. "Okay, here we go."

Lee took a long drag, his lungs filling to the brim with harsh smoke. He held it for a moment, observing Dean to be sure that he actually wanted this. He gave Dean a look to confirm this. Dean just nodded again, feeling words get stuck in his throat.

Lee leaned forward, making the already small distance between them even smaller. Dean swallowed, the words that were caught going down his throat along with the excess spit. Lee nodded as he blew the smoke over Dean's face, slowly.

Dean let the smoke seep into him, just taking in the scent. He didn't really like it. "It smells like someone ran over a skunk." he said, waving the smoke away from his face. "But... it's not the worst thing I've smelled. So, I guess, that's cool." Lee chuckled and shook his head, "Yeah. I don't love the smell a whole lot either. But, I think you should keep going. Maybe it would help you chill out after a hunt." "What do you mean?" Dean asked. "I mean, after a hunt, when your adrenaline is pumping and you're on edge for the rest of the night. Always watching for the next monster before you end up passing out from the crash." Lee animates, "Especially you, man. You're always so jazzed after a hunt." Lee nudges Deans shoulder. "Well excuse me for being a little shaken up from almost dying on a daily basis." Dean said, huffing out a breath. "That's exactly what I'm talking about, right there." Lee says, "Just keep going. If you start smoking it, and absolutely hate the way it makes you feel, I'll even quit myself."

For some reason, that sentence made Dean's heart flutter. His best friend was willing to give up something that really seemed to be helping him, just because Dean might not like it. It was so thoughtful it made Dean's stomach turn.

"What do I do?" Dean asked, reaching his fingers out for the joint. "I mean, obviously it's like a cigarette. But, like, do I do anything special with it?" "Nope. Just inhale and exhale. You can keep the smoke in your mouth first since its your first time. " Lee winked, handing the joint to Dean.

When their fingers brushed, Dean swore he felt a wave of electricity flow throughout his entire body. He brought the joint to his lips, taking in the smell again, not minding it as much as before. He took a long drag, taking an extra sip of air to guide the smoke to his lungs. He could feel the smoke twirling around his lungs, some of it sitting at the very bottom burning in his chest.

He slowly blew out the smoke, watching it float off into the night sky. The affects of the marijuana hit Dean immediately, his body becoming more relaxed and his mind clearing of the bloody images of torn apart humans.

"Woah." Dean said, looking at the little joint in his hand. "Right? Fells amazing , doesn't it?" Lee said, reaching his hand for the joint again. "Yeah. It does." Dean said, handing the weed back.

They sat in silence for a while, just passing the joint back and forth until it was nothing more than just the roach. By now, Dean was stoned. His tolerance wasn't as high (haha) as Lee's.

"Dude, your eyes are red as fuck." Lee laughed at Dean, leaning into Dean's side. "Shut up. No they aren't." Dean laughed, leaning his body weight on Lee's. "Sure, whatever you say." Lee said, sitting up again.

Dean and Lee were sitting close to each other. So close that their shoulders were touching when Lee was sitting up. It wasn't how they had started this trip though. When they had first sat down, they were sat at a reasonable distance. Far enough that they had their own spaces but close enough to hear each other talk. As the night went on, they had started drifting closer to each other. Their shoulders were touching and their conversation could be a whisper if they wanted.

"Shit... I didn't bring my bag." Lee said, tossing the dead joint into the distance. "I could go grab it." Dean said, already starting to stand before Lee grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. "Don't bother. Your dad will definitely catch us if you try to open the car." Lee said, leaning against Dean again. "You good? You're kind of shaking." Dean asked. "Oh yeah. Just a little chilly is all." Lee said, shrugging his shoulders.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. He had told Lee to grab a jacket before they headed out but Lee said he wouldn't need it. So, Dean took off his leather jacket and draped it over the both of them.

"There. That should be better." Dean said. He was glad it was dark so that Lee couldn't see the red blush on his cheeks. The electricity that Dean felt earlier was even more noticeable to him now, he wasn't sure if it was because of the way they were sitting or if it was the weed, but Dean didn't mind it.

"Hey, Dean. Can I ask you something?" Lee abruptly blurts, not moving his head or body to look at Dean. "Have you..." Lee stopped, unsure if he should finish. "Actually, never mind." "Well, now you have to ask. Or else I'm going to bug you about it for the next few hunts." Dean said, moving his shoulder a bit to make Lee's head bounce. Lee laughed, "Okay fine. But you have to promise me you won't be all weird after I ask." "Done deal. Not much that can drive me away." Dean said without hesitation. Lee is his best friend. Of course he wasn't going to judge him for anything he could do or say. "Have you..." Lee started again, pausing to take a deep breath, "Have you ever felt the same way about a guy the way you do a girl?" Dean didn't answer for a moment, a little taken aback from this specific question. "Never mind. Don't answer that." Lee interrupted, pushing Dean's leather jack off of himself. "What? Where are you going?" Dean asked, grabbing Lee's wrist before he could even move. "I was just thinking is all." he pulled Lee back to his spot and covered him again.

"I'll admit. There were a few times that I thought about it. Ya know? What would it be like to be with a guy? Could that even be possible? Not only in the normal world but in this life as well. I mean, how many gay-" "Or bisexual." Lee interrupted. "Right. Or bisexual hunters do you know of? Or met? Not a lot. I'm sure there are some out there..." Dean said, staring up at the canopy of branches above them. "Plus, my dad would never..." "I know." Lee said, relaxing his body against Dean again. "Can I ask why you wanted to know?" Dean questioned, looking down at Lee. His floppy brown hair was slightly covering his eyes, hiding the sky blue that Dean liked about them. "I've just been thinking about it is all." Lee said. But something in his tone that made Dean doubt him and Lee knew that. "That's bullshit." Dean called out immediately. "I know." Lee admitted. "But I just don't think I'm ready to talk about this anymore right now." " Alright. I won't push any more." Dean said "But I just want you to know that I wouldn't judge you for anything. As long as you're not dead, I couldn't less about who you think is hot or who you want to screw." "Thanks, Dean." Lee said.

They never talked about it again after that. Mostly because John, Dean, and Lee parted ways. There was a hunt in Arizona that really messed Lee up, so he decided to leave. Dean never heard from him after that.

He did continue to smoke however. When John found out, he was furious and demanded that he quit. But Dean, for once in his life, disobeyed a direct order from his father.

He realized after that night that it made him feel a little less shitty. It made him feel less shitty physically. It took away the ache that settled in his knees at a young age from the miles ran on hard pavement. It took away the headaches that he'd get frequently from countless concussions. It soothed the constant pain in his back from carry too much for too long. It also made him feel less shitty mentally. When he smoked, he felt like could actually focus on reading the lore for long periods. He could actually think about what he was going to say before he says it. It makes the raging fire of anger in his chest into a controlled campfire.

On nights it was hard to sleep, he opted for a walk in the near wooded area around the bunker with a joint to himself. He didn't like smoking inside the Bunker, being considerate of Cas and Sam. But also because he didn't like the way the smell would linger for days at a time. The same reason he didn't smoke in his precious car.

He'd walk, lighting the joint at the start of his journey. He always followed the same path. So much so that there was a small trail starting to wear it's way into the dirt, just wide enough for one person. From there he would walk into the woods, sticking close to the small brook. He would take long drags, watching the smoke dance in the air when he exhaled. Sometimes he would stop and stare at the stars and laugh. "Imagine that. The Sword of Michael; stoned." he'd say, finding the irony a little too funny.

There was a tree that Dean carved his initials into not too long after they had found the Bunker. He decided to make that his designated smoking spot, liking the way it faced an empty meadow.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #135

Who is your most loved person? Mom and Girt, just in different ways.

Have you ever been bullied? I'm really fucking grateful I wasn't.

Who makes you the happiest? Girt.

What is the most heroic thing you’ve ever done? Uhhhhh... this is bad, I don't know lmfao

What calms you down when you’re upset? What works best for me these days is Girt hugging me really tight.

Have you been betrayed in the past? How? Maybe, idr.

Who do you miss the most? My dog that passed away, Teddy.

What’s one sweet/candy you miss from your childhood? Is this item something you can still buy or has it been discontinued? BABY BOTTLE POPS those bitches were GREAT. I know I've seen them in a gas station before not too many years ago, but idk if they're still around. I just know they're nowhere near as big as when I was a kid.

Do you have a favourite celebrity chef? No.

Do you prefer diamonds or pearls? I honestly find diamonds like, incomparably prettier. Yes, pearls are pretty, but diamonds are stunning.

Is there anything coming out soon (books, albums, movies, video games) that you’re looking forward to? The entire Rammstein fanbase is aware a "Making Of" video is coming sometime soon-ish for the "Dicke Titten" mv which is wildly beloved for how fucking endearingly stupid it is but the sneakpeak clips were shared in like, I wanna say February & by now everyone is ready to corner them with pitchforks lmao who knows when that'll be here, + there's also something being made with things filmed in Mexico but I'm pretty sure the details aren't public. OH AND ALSO the remake for Silent Hill 2 should be out this year and I physically cannot fucking wait. Oh my god wait another thing, like two days ago Markiplier finally namedropped the legit movie he's been working on (Iron Lung, based off a super fuckin cool indie horror game) so that's super exciting, I think I remember him saying it should be out by maybe like the end of the year.

How do you go about finding books/movies/music to read/watch/listen to? Uh... I don't really search for new books, I'm just sticking with WoF right now, I'll only be interested in a movie that I just like happen to see a trailer for, music is mostly YouTube recommendations...

What’s a band/musician you were really into for a while but who you don’t care about or hardly listen to anymore? "Don't care about" doesn't really fit this, but I think the closest to this general description is Metallica. I got into them right after Ozzy, and for most of my life since then I considered them my second-favorite band, and I still love A LOT of their music, but I just barely listen anymore; I haven't listened to any of their new album (I do plan to, I just haven't yet), and I didn't really explore their last one much either. The last one I cared much about was Death Magnetic, and that released in... holy motherfucking shit 2008 are you KIDDING NO GODDAMN WAY

What is something someone recommended to you that you disliked/hated? Ummmm I know Girt's shown me songs I wasn't into, but I don't think anything I had that strong a reaction to.

Do you find it difficult to keep up with online friendships? Generally, no; they're easier for me.

Has there ever been a person you regret ever being friends with? Totally, 100% honest, Sara. We tried friendship so many times since we were around 8 and 10 years old, and it never ended well. We just don't mix.

Do you think you have a good understanding on love? Yes.

What do you want to do on your honeymoon? I wanna go to Alaska but I know Girt doesn't lol, he HATES the cold. Props for ultimately being like "yeah we can" I'm guessing because of how exciting the idea is to me, but a honeymoon destination should be a mutual agreement so I'm not dragging him there. I'm thinking maybe Italy, going to Venice would especially be a fucking dream, plus Rome is in the country too.

What do you think of your parent(s)? I am fully convinced I have the best mother in the world. She's absolutely not perfect, but she is a legend of a mom. My dad always could've been a better father, and I think I'm always going to feel some hurt over how he left my family, but he tries.

If your best friend confessed that they can see the future, you would…? I would be extremely fucking concerned and try very very hard to get him to get in touch with a psychiatrist, but seeing as I can't even get this man to agree to going for a yearly physical THAT HIS INSURANCE FULLY COVERS, I am VERY doubtful he'd go for mental health, and if that was the case, I'd turn to his mom and sister.

What’s your least favorite pizza topping? Mushrooms.

What’s your dream pet? The absolute top of the list is probably a high-expression sunset morph ball python, but they are ABSURDLY expensive, like that is absolutely never happening unless they become much more common. More obtainable is a Grammastola pulchra/Brazilian Black tarantula, as well as an Ephebopus murinus/skeleton leg tarantula, I adore both of those. Also one that will very likely never happen because of their rarity in the hobby (and price tag) is a Sonoran coachwhip, famous for their ability to be a gorgeous pink, but I'm very particular in wanting a black fade on it, lol. Odds are very high that you have probably seen this exact snake before, a lot of people unfamiliar with snakes immediately assume it's fake so they've done their rounds online. Fun fact the potential of seeing this exact snake in the wild is a major reason I want to visit Arizona, haha.

Most unattractive male name, in your opinion? To be totally honest there are a lot of male names I really don't like, like Edwin/Erwin/Edward (apparently I just have a vendetta against names that sound like this lmao), Bob, and even Donald, which no, he doesn't know & I don't plan on telling him lmfao this poor guy I hate his real name AND his nickname help

Is your pet dog male or female? She's a female.

Have you or would you try shark meat? No to both.

Do you know anyone that’s pescatarian? Not personally, but a WoW streamer/content creator I sometimes watch is, she's the only person I know of.

Do you think the government has a cure for cancer, but is hiding it from public? At the BARE minimum, they refuse to delve into potential solutions. Cancer and keeping it at bay RAKES in money. I mean honestly, throughout my WHOLE life I've read articles or just heard news about how "it looks like this is capable of curing it," and what happens next? Nothing, you never hear about it ever again.

Do people normally describe you as sexy? God no. The only one who ever does is sometimes my boyfriend and I can't even believe him lmfao

Was your ex born in America? They all were unless you count Juan, who I dated less than a day. He's from Mexico and is now back there.

Has your best friend ever made you cry? He's never meant to, but yes.

Do you still talk to the person you liked six months ago? Yeah, we're still dating.

Has anyone ever talked you into doing something you didn’t want to do? Yes.

Are you smiling in your Facebook profile picture? Yes.

Be honest, does the person you like actually deserve you? Or are they actually not worthy of your affections? I don't deserve him, is more like it.

List 5 things that have been on your mind most recently. Job situation, my physical health, wanting to move out/in together with Girt, being excited to get my tattoo finished next month, and photography stuff.

Would you ever wear black lipstick? Do you know anyone who does? In the incredibly rare occasion I have lipstick on, it's black.

If you wear eye shadow, do you put on a dark colour or a light? And if you wear mascara, what colour is it? Still black lol, but again I barely ever, ever wear makeup.

Do you combine your socks and underwear in the same drawer? Yeah, seems like most people do.

Does the last person you kissed live within walking distance? No, he lives around 30 minutes away by car.

Is there someone you could hang out with all the time, without ever getting bored of them? Yeah, Girt.

Do you know a girl named Beth? Tell me about her. I know an older woman named Beth; she's the mother of who was once my little sister's best friend, but they moved away when Nicole and Lauren were maaaybe pre-teens. She's actually dealing with the recent loss of her son because of drugs, something that's so mind-boggling to me because I remember this boy as a little, innocent kid. Addiction just doesn't discriminate.

Do you think the last person you kissed has ever lied to you? I suppose it's possible over something small, but I don't think so. We put a lot of focus on honesty in our relationship.

Have you ever been hit on by somebody way too old for you? As a teenager, yes.

First kink tried? Not sharing, crossing a boundary for me.

First time doing oral? I was somewhere around 17, maybe 16.

Do you send nudes? Do you like receiving them? No to either, I am very glad no partner I've ever had has felt the need to do that.

How much teasing do you like? Both people I've been sexual with have called me one and I treat others how I wanna be treated u kno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Are you okay with name-calling in bed? I don't know tbh, not something I have experience with but honestly for someone with my self-esteem and whatnot it's probably better that I never find out.

How often do you do unprotected sex? I am unwilling to ever do that unless we've made the confident decision that we want to have a kid.

Do you like wearing/seeing people in lingerie? I don't wear and never have worn it but bitch lingerie is ALWAYS hot what the fuck homie

Are stockings/thigh-highs a turn on? BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH

How many other people know your bra size? hunny I don't even know my bra size 😭

Do you have any friends you’d sleep with? No.

Does the person you like have any flaws? Of course he does, everybody does. They're non-deal breaker flaws I've chosen to accept.

Has anyone ever given you a ring? Why? Jason did for one of our anniversaries, I think either the second or third. It wasn't a promise or engagement ring, just a pretty ring. I remember the gem broke off pretty quickly and this man was so mad lmao, I actually kept the frame of the ring (I lost the jewel) for a very, very long time, I'm talking 'til like maybe this past year, but I eventually didn't even want it as a memory anymore.

Creation theory, evolution or the Big Bang theory? Well I mean the last two generally go hand-in-hand, but I do have to admit I'm not totally sold on the "everything exploded from condensed nothingness" theory, but I 100% believe in the evolution of life forms. I'm completely uncertain of what I think the very origin of the universe is, especially when you consider I don't believe in a god, either. I don't necessarily refute the BBT either though, I tend to trust scientists with weighty degrees that actually study this shit for a living.

What was your last serious conversation about? Well, I found out last night Girt's last remaining grandparent/his mom's mom has cancer, and she's absolutely too weak for chemotherapy, so. I was talking to him about tagging along the next time he goes to see her. I just kinda randomly thought about her (I already knew she wasn't well) and realized it'd be nice to meet her before she, y'know.

Have you ever been into a real cave? No, but this is a MAJOR adventure goal!!!! Girt recently learned that I wanna do this and his reaction was priceless, the "YOU ARE ALLOWED IN THE MOUTH OF A CAVE PEOPLE LITERALLY DIE THERE BLAH BLAH BLAH" was so immediate, too bad bitch I'm goin spelunking

Have you ever posted mean comments on YouTube? I know I did once as a kid lmfao help this child or smush her like a bug idc

Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): Uh probably the first Silent Hill. It took SO much reading and lore videos to understand lmao. I really do hope they remake the OG game one day, like don't get me wrong, I ADORE it, but so much could be improved ((((DAHLIA'S VOICE ACTING)))), including with just making the story easier to understand without actually changing the story (I'd be pissed and so would the entire horror game fanbase).

Who was the last person to play with your hair? Are they cute? Girt, yeah he mad cute

Who was the last person close to you that died? Did you cry? Jason's mom, and I cried for days on end after Mom told me. She's the only human person that I've lost to death that was truly a painful loss for me, like it was personal. All other people I've known who have died I either very, very barely knew or in my maternal grandmother's case, hated.

Do you know anyone who uses medical marijuana? I mean I might, but if they do, they're sadly having to do it illegally because even medical usage is illegal in NC. Piece of shit state <33333

Do you know anyone who’s died in childbirth? Thank god I don't, this is such a heartbreaking topic to me. I was actually worrying about my friend Bethany who just gave birth while dealing with a severe case of the flu; it looks like things got a bit scary, but thank all the stars in the fucking sky she's home safe with her family now. She was so heartbroken because her daughter was brought home before she was able to come with.

Do you agree with the “they’re just being kids” excuse? This WILDLY depends, like I hope that's obvious. Kids playing make-believe and making a mess in the mud outside? That's "just being kids," but things like picking on others and such absolutely is not.

Have you told your parents all of your secrets from when you were a teen? No. My mom has cryptically commented that she "knows" a lot of things which is terrifying lmao but idk what exactly.

What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I'm not at all sure, I don't really think she's ever called me a bad name...

What’s your stance on spooning? I like it because it makes me feel safe and loved, I am That Bitch hunched over dying when Girt rolls away lmao, not in like a genuinely offended way or anything though, he sleeps way better facing away with more space.

Do you currently want a new computer? Nah, mine's fine.

How would your parents react if you got a tattoo? Neither would care; they both are aware of how much I love tattoos and plan to get dozens more. I seem to remember my dad being caught off-guard/seeming a bit nervous when I told him I got a tattoo the first time, though.

Who is your truest friend? Girt. He's honestly the greatest friend I've ever had, as far as being a genuine friend goes.

Who is your oldest friend? Sam, he's gotta be near 40 now.

How long have you known them? Uhhhh I can't remember the exact year, but I know Jason and I were still together when we "met" (we've been WoW buddies for a very long time, used to play all day somedays voice chatting together). I'm gonna guess like... *around* 2013-2014? I'd really like to meet him and his wife one day, he's always treated me like his little sister and honestly it was interactions with him that helped me get through 2016. At least I had someone to talk to/stay preoccupied with. If I'm not mistaken his wife's actually pretty big on the makeup side of TikTok now, which is great for her because she's never been able to work because of health reasons.

Where are they right now? Uh, they live in New Jersey. I'm assuming he's home because my b.net app says he's playing Call of Duty right now.

Have you ever dated a friend of one of your siblings? Omg no, that'd be weird. Girt actually (very vaguely) knew Ashley before he knew me, but they were never friends beforehand.

Have you ever dated someone who had a child? No, and I'd prefer not to.

What has been your biggest failure in life? Not loving, respecting, and taking care of myself properly, honestly.

Do you trust yourself? lol no, I change my mind too much for that shit

Would you ever consider getting an abortion, under any circumstances? Yes, I would get an abortion in any case where I didn't want a child.

What was the last bug you killed? An ant in the house. I generally try to avoid killing bugs, but ants in the house are not okay.

Do you prefer profile pictures by yourself of with someone else? You know, I think I've always used ones where it's just me.

Has a boyfriend’s/girlfriend’s parents ever gotten mad at you? Why? Probably at some point with either Jason or Sara.

What is the funniest thing a child has ever said to you. Omg idk if this is THE funniest, but it's the most recent really funny one that I remember: my 8-year-old niece Aubree literally going, "Why do you need a boyfriend at your age?!" when Girt was with me at their house, like GIRL your mother is TWO years older than me with three children & I am a grown-ass woman 😭 I love that girl to death.

[philipronans]

go where you breathe free [1/7]

this was meant to be a oneshot for @gxldentrio‘s birthday but as per usual things ran away from me and now i’m in hell. this also isn’t what i originally intended, hence why it’s late so for that i’m sorry! sirius is pretty depressed in this, just in case anyone needs to take care of themselves - i don’t think trigger warnings are needed, he’s just very in his own head about it

the first week

Sirius wakes up to the smell of something floral wafting through the open crack of his bedroom door. He battles, briefly, with the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids, and kicks his legs free of the duvet, pushing it towards the bottom of his bed. It’s hot, even for late May, and although his curtains are drawn tightly across his window he can already feel sweat starting to prickle against the backs of his knees. Sitting up is a task in and of itself; there’s a lethargy settled in the very marrow of him that means it takes him a few attempts before he succeeds.

Finding clean clothes quickly becomes another adventure, hidden amongst everything else on his floor as they are, like flakes of gold buried in the sand. Not that he even needs to get dressed, really - it’s not like James, or Lily for that matter, have never seen him in his underwear before - but there’s a voice in the back of his head whispering with the volume of an earthquake to do it. So, he roots around for a pair of jeans that aren’t obviously stained with anything, and then has to sift through several t-shirts before managing to find one that doesn’t smell like three day old Chinese.

Sirius kicks wearily at the pile - more like mountain, if he’s being honest - closest to him, and sighs. He doesn’t bother promising himself to clean it up later, just turns around so he doesn’t have to look at it anymore, and picks his way over to the mirror in the corner. The Sirius in the reflection is wan, dark circles taking up residence under his eyes, and he prods at them with the pads of his fingers. He flicks idly at the sleep gathered on his eyelashes and then scrapes a hand through his hair to pull it into something resembling a ponytail. It’s been a few days since he last ran a hairbrush through it, and it shows. Pursing his lips, Sirius rolls the hairband from his wrist and double ties it.

Lily is already in the kitchen by the time he wanders in, scratching at the stubble lining his cheek and trying to ignore the way it catches on his fingertips. A huge bouquet of flowers - that he won’t even begin to pretend he knows the names of - lays on the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room. A vase stands at her elbow, filled halfway with water, and she’s got the sachet of flower food in one hand, a pair of extremely large scissors in the other. She doesn’t look at him until the last drop of food lands in the water, but when she does, her smile is brilliant.

“Good morning!” She says, stepping away from the counter so she can drop the packet and the cellophane wrap in the bin.

Sirius watches her for a few moments before the smell of whatever the flowers are gets him to edge a little closer. “Mornin’. Where’s James?”

“Nipped over to Tescos.” She says, letting the lid of the bin clang shut again. Then she shifts a little so she can quickly wash her hands. Lily’s eyes are kind when she glances over her shoulder at him. “You sleep okay? James said you might have trouble because of how sodding hot it is.”

There’s a warmth in his chest that Sirius doesn’t have the words to explain, so he shrugs. He shuffles over to the fridge and doesn’t even bother getting out a glass before taking several long pulls from the carton of orange juice (without pulp, he’s not an animal). “It was… okay.” He says eventually, ignoring the face Lily pulls when he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s been worse.”

There are parts of him that Lily’s missing, that he refuses to let her see no matter how much he trusts her, but just this once she seems to hear what he’s omitting because she’s smiling again. “That’s good.”

It doesn’t take long for Sirius to grow itchy with the way she’s looking at him, so he quickly sets about getting himself breakfast instead. He has no idea what the time actually is, but in his humble opinion, there is no wrong time for a bowl of coco pops. No matter how many times James tries to convince him they’re rank. Sadly, there’s only one box left - the variety pack he’d bought slowly dwindling until all he’s left with a rice krispies. He pulls a face, even as he resigns himself to the fact he’s going to have to get more at some point.

Lily waits until he’s got his head buried in the fridge again, with his bowl tucked against his chest, before saying, “There’s no milk left.” The smile she gives him is mischievous, and he can’t even find it in himself to be annoyed about it.

Sirius would be lying if he said he doesn’t briefly consider using the orange juice instead. Briefly. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Instead he lets the door fall shut with a thud and stares forlornly down at his cereal.

“James should be back soon, I think. He wasn’t going out for much.” Lily offers, and when he lifts his head long enough to look at her, she’s leaning against the edge of the sink with her arms crossed loosely under her chest. Her smile is kind. He tries not to see the pity in it, and ducks his head back down.

Instead of answering her, he moves over to the dining table, footsteps inneringly soft against the floorboards even now. He slumps into the nearest chair, bowl sat in front of him, taunting, and he reaches out to grab a handful. Popping a few into his mouth, Sirius starts chewing hard enough to feel it in his jaw. His eyes are unfocussed, staring aimlessly at the photograph hanging on the opposite wall. None of it gets processed, it’s all just one swirl of colour bleeding into another.

An undetermined amount of time later - although it’s probably only a few minutes, given the meagre dent he’s made in his coco pops - Lily places a tall glass of orange juice at his elbow.

Sirius manages to drag his attention from the wall long enough to meet her eye. “Thanks.” He mutters, voice barely more than a croak.

Lily hovers for a moment, clearly unsure of whether to sit down with him or not. It doesn’t take her long to make her mind up, though, because she leaves him alone - he’s grateful for that, too.

The quiet isn’t… nice, exactly. But it’s peaceful; gives him time to come back to himself. It happens slowly, as it so often does; colours bleeding into each other until they become tangible - things he can reach out and touch if he wants to. For the moment he just focuses on the table, the wood worn smooth from countless days spent just like this one.

The universe is a metronome and Sirius the pendulum, tick tick ticking through his own existence without hope of ever slowing down or stopping. Sometimes he falls out of rhythm, whenever life decides to knock him off kilter, but he always manages to find his way back eventually. Today is no exception, and once he feels present enough in his own head to actually do something, he fiddles with the glass of orange juice for a brief moment before downing half of it in one go.

He takes it with him, dangingling it loosely from his fingertips, when he finally gets up. The bowl gets left behind, but he makes a silent vow to actually eat as soon as James gets home. Their flat isn’t exactly small, especially given they’re in London and the rent is cheap, but there aren’t all that many places he can go other than his room. So when he ends up in the living room, Lily doesn’t so much as blink as she puts her book down and reach for the remote. She doesn’t even seem to notice the magazine that goes careening off the coffee table onto the floor.

Instead she raises an eyebrow at him and gestures with the remote. Her nail varnish is chipped around the edges, jagged electric blue in stark contrast with how pale she is. “Wanna watch something?” One of the wonderful things about Lily, and there are several even if Sirius is loathe to admit it, is that there is never any expectation. He’s free to do, or not, whatever he pleases whenever he wants - it can be overwhelming sometimes, just how free she lets him feel.

For the first time this week he doesn’t feel like he has to escape back to the safety of his bed, so he sets his glass down on one of the free coasters and picks the magazine up as he sinks into the sofa cushions. It’s not a big sofa, by any means, but sometimes it feels like they’re on opposite sides of a very large chasm. Sirius meets her excited little grin with the smallest twitch of his own mouth. Maybe not quite a chasm.

“What did you have in mind?”

-----

They’re only half an hour into their chosen movie when James gets home, but Sirius is barely paying attention anyway. There had been a brief, albeit passionate, debate on the merits of shitty horror versus shitty sci-fi, before they’d settled on a low budget, straight-to-DVD slasher.

The only noise James makes for a few minutes is the rustling of plastic shopping bags - more Bags For Life, from the sounds of it. Just their luck. Sirius finds himself glancing over at Lily when cupboard doors start banging, and he isn’t entirely sure why, even as she sinks further into the cushions.

“I’m too lazy to move.” She says by way of explanation, and it’s enough to get a laugh out of him. It’s rusty, catching in his throat in its desperate bid for freedom, but it makes Lily’s eyes soften. Sirius pretends he doesn’t notice, even if there is a heat in his cheeks he can’t quite ignore.

Thankfully Lily turns back to face the screen, leaving him time to try and make his body do what it’s told. The murderer lumbers out of the woods just as Sirius manages to push himself to his feet, hatchet swinging from their hand as they hunt down one of the incredibly dumb teenagers that somehow always seem to be the protagonists.

“Want anything?” He asks, because despite everything else that might be said about him, he still has manners.

Lily watches him for several seconds, but just as it starts bordering on too long she shakes her head. “No, thanks.”

Nodding, Sirius snags his glass and then quietly pads out of the room, followed by the sound of the first kid being hacked to death.

There are a lot of things Sirius is ready and willing to brag about being good at, but one of the few things he truly prides himself on is his ability to be very quiet when needed. The noise in his head is so loud, all the time, that he’s always used his own silence as a weapon. Even now, it’s no different, and the way James smacks his head on the open cupboard door is both validating and hilarious. Sirius doesn’t do anything more than snigger as he pads over to the sink so he can rinse his glass out - experience has taught him more than once just how disgusting dried juice is to clean.

“You have got to stop doing that.” James grumbles, rubbing at the vaguely pink mark on his forehead. Sirius has to fight down the urge to wrap his fingers around James’ narrow wrist, something strange coiling in his belly.

He tries not to think about it too hard. “You’re gonna make it worse.” He says instead, rocking back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I thought being blind meant everything else was enhanced, anyway?”

“That only works if you abide by regular human physics.” James says, voice nearing on a whine. There’s a glint in his eye that suggests mischief, though, and Sirius feels something in him settle. James shakes his head, roots around in the nearest bag for a moment, and before Sirius gets a chance to see what he’s doing, something sharp hits him in the chest. He has to scrabble to catch it, but when he looks down it’s to see a new variety pack of cereal against his chest. “You’re almost out, right?”

Sirius eyes him curiously for a moment, that same strange feeling settling heavy in his lungs and making his breath painful. It eases as Sirius smiles. “Cheers, mate.”

[heretherebedork]

Hi. I have seen a lot of people call MAME's shows trash but people still keep watching them. I watched DSN to understand for myself why this contrasting opinions exist and I liked DSN. I didn't see any issues. They don't linger on the conflict, they actually communicate, Fiat is a bit of a baby but the who Norma Bates of his mother explains that. His father's lack of communication gets solved. Fiat actually realizes that he was the bad guy for the step mom (something I don't think I've seen in step mom - step son relationships). The friend groups is really good. The episodes are quite self contained in that the issue raised last episode is dealt with the very next episode, they don't lie or drag the issue out.

I wanted to ask why it's considered trash. Is it the amount of sex scenes? The comedy?

Like with TharnType I get coz of the whole rape thing. (I haven't watched it, only heard about it. This being the primary reason to no watch despite the chemistry of the leads and how popular and ~liked~ the show is.)

Love in the Air, I am watching and I kinda get why Payu thought Rain was hitting on him in E1 and @lutawolf explained the kink elements of the bathroom scene and it makes sense (from what little I understand).

So yeah, why is Mame considered trash?

So, first I wanna say that trash isn't an insult most of the time from me, it's much more just a specific description of a style based on the very popular romance novels of the 80s and 90s. And MAME follows that style to a T in every way where there's questionable consent, lots of dominating without permission and the idea that love erases all sins is hugely present in ways that don't always feel true to the characters.

DSN is a fun show... until the last few episodes where the problems they have stop making sense for the development we've seen over the course of the show because MAME writes problems for characters to have and not characters to have that problem and doesn't take into account any kind of order to them. I enjoyed DSN overall but wish it had been more thought through and ordered because after the big art gallery birthday present the rest of the show kind of felt... over and yet it wasn't, there was so much more that no longer held together well for me.

TT I won't comment on, being absolutely oblivious to chemistry means I ended the two shows hating Tharn and wishing Type would just dump his ass, especially after the accusations of cheating and the apology the never came in TT2 and Type definitely deserves better than what he got. But that's what trash is about! Trash is about how the romance works because the actors work but not because the characters or the plot works.

Also, oh lordie, do I have to talk about the 'kink' in LITA?

You cannot have kink without agreed upon consent.

Let me repeat that.

It is not kink unless the consent is agreed upon before it happens.

There is currently no kink in LITA because there has been no discussion or agreement to a kinky relationship. They cannot be acting on a no kink when Payu has never checked in with Rain even fucking once or created a safe word (no, obeying him and being polite is not a goddamn safe word, that's just PART OF THE KINK as @thequeenofsastiel would agree) or made sure that he wants it.

Yes, we know he is partially enjoying it because of his internal monologue but unless we're gonna find out that Payu is a goddamn mindreader none of the matters. Because he can't know without talking about it first!

Look, I cannot deny that post-episode 3 I am likely to enjoy more of LITA than I did before because they now at least have some kind of agreement. But before that? It's not kinky if there's been no discussion and acting on a 'no kink' without a discussion or safe word is just sexual assault because there's no way to do that.

Payu is fine to think that Rain was hitting was hitting on him but the instant someone says no you stop.

But, again.

MAME is considered trash because her novels are more about drama, often betray any character growth that may or may not happen (@absolutebl talked about this in my choice about Jittirain versus MAME aka 'pointless secret keeping with a shitty resolve' versus 'sexual assault as flirting' post in which that pointed out that MAME's real issue is characters while Jittirain's is plot and you have to pick a priority) and always have a huge miscommunication issue at some point that feels like it should have been solved in a different way.

[terrence-silver]

Here’s a head cannon. Say Terry and beloved met a few weeks ago, and he’s obviously obsessed with her at this point (it’s Terry). I’d like to see a story about a gorgeous beloved and the billionaire’s first date (preferably KK3 Terry when he’s young and kinda arrogant XD)

―

-"Margaret, how do I get someone to, you know..."- Terry twirls his hand aimlessly mid air, trying to convey his thoughts on such a short notice. The silent Manicurist, head bowed, tendering to his feet in an oval basin riddled with foam and sweet smelling Macadamia and Rose water oils, Terry was preparing, impromptu, for a very special date, and such events always rendered the mansion under a state of siege. -"Fall head over heels for me and all that bullshit?"- He continues with a chuckle, finding that particular description a bit juvenile and idiotic, perhaps (but, hey, it worked), pointing a ringed finger at Margaret, like someone trying to sell something on an informercial followed by a witty catchphrase. All she does is look at him, poignantly, through her spectacles with his suits are carted in and out on hangers as he rejects them, in bulk, waving his arm instead of a yes and a no. He couldn't just look good, in the way he usually did. He needed to look immaculate. He needed to be a smoke-show. She raises an eyebrow speculatively, affixing her thick-rimmed glasses. She appraises him. He snorts to himself in advance, feeling the sting.

-"Implying you don't know already know how, Mr. Silver."-

Margaret retorts from the desk, sorting out paperwork, folder per folder, on a busy, rushed Friday evening, multitasking doing her chores and keeping him company, leaving everything neat and orderly for the weekend. Sure, Terry knew and Ms. Spencer and Mr. Dadok in particular have been diligently and devoted in the task of cleaning up his escapades and sexcapades for years now, but this wasn't quite it, Terry supposed. He didn't just wanna fuck you and dump you and have his staff and secretaries deal with the aftermath and have his legal team tie all lose ends. He wanted...he wanted something. -"I do, but ---"- A cigar's in his mouth, hanging sideways. He takes a long, generous drag, throwing his head back in the velvet crimson lounge chair that matched his scarlet silk bathrobe, playing with a lone purple grape from the fruit entree, squeezing it, juice popping and leaking unto his finger. Ah, decisions, decisions. Everything had to be perfect. In control. -"Man, I want an input around here!"- His cackling voice practically bellows and echoes through the hall. -"From one person of business to another. Lets go!"-

Margaret stands still, poised and a bit stiff.

Terry continues his explanation.

-"Like, which car do I show up with? Should I book the Astoria? What should I wear? That sort of thing! Mother-son type of advice! C'mon! It's 1986! Lets do it like on Oprah!"- Terry practically claps his hand with a cheerful, competitive spirit, discarding his Cohiba in the nearby ashtray, his fist's pumped once he rejects yet another pinstripe silk Armani suit by merely giving his assistant a death glare. No. He wasn't Al Capone. Then Margaret utters one of her typically Margaret things ---- the cryptic remarks he always had a soft spot for. The type that always had a way of changing the very atmosphere around the room. -"Be yourself."- She answers and Terry halts. Several of the maids preparing his shirts and displaying them for him to browse through, by color and material, scurry out of the room. Terry dismisses the Manicurist too. -"What?"- He reiterates, sitting there, a bit stunned. All he wanted to know which venue was best. -"I said, be yourself, Mr. Silver. Clearly, this means a lot to you, otherwise you wouldn't be putting so much thought into it, all due respect."- She reiterates, stepping closer. The room previously abuzz was now oddly quiet with her authority. There it was, that infamous change of atmosphere.

-"When Mr. Spencer, rest his soul, asked me out, all it took was a stroll."-

Terry listens intently. Must've been one hell of a stroll.

Yes, he knew Margaret was already a widow before she came to work for him.

He's researched that too. It was different hearing it openly, though.

-"On a private note, we had that same stroll for six months and on the seventh, we were married. In the Autumn of 1965, in London."- She tilts her head, arms tidily crossed and Terry practically feels his mouth go dry with a newfound nostalgia. What was he craving all of a sudden? He wasn't even anywhere near being in Vietnam back then. -"We stayed married for thirty years, until he passed away."- Margaret adds and he imagines himself, hand in hand with you in the same way, talking a walk around a beach, the waves soft and salty, your smile illuminated by a swift sundown. His old blue beat up Ford he used as a practical joke parked on the sandy pier. He's wearing jeans and a grey sweatshirt, sleeves rolled up. You didn't know his situation. He hasn't told you. His address. Who he really was. It could work, this plan. The easiness of it alluring. -"The simplest things are sometimes the best, sir."- Margaret's heels click finally, and she's out of the room. -"Have a nice evening."- Her voice disappears over the threshold along with her and Terry remains, in his bathrobe and sweating towel, surrounded by fruit bowls and colognes. -"Thank you, Margaret."- Terry mutters, cigar forgotten.

The simplest things are...

Terry ponders decades of unineterrupted love and loyalty.

Until death do them part and even beyond.

That night, as agreed upon, Terry goes out without announcing it too much to anyone of his staff members, dressed in his jeans and a grey zip up jacket, discarding all other dressing options and the leaving the Rolls Royce he intended to drive out with in his garage, changing his place of meet-up, parking his Ford on a hill overlooking the city vista as he holds your hand and traces his thumb over your skin, the profile of your face illuminated by the lights in the darkness, as you sit together on the grass, entirely alone, above it all, Margaret's words ever-present in his mind. We stayed married for thirty years, until he passed away. You shiver in the cool evening air and Terry rolls you into his jacket, trying to drench the fabric in your scent and warmth so he can inhale you later --- consuming your aroma and etch it into his memory. This wasn't who he was. Not by a long run, but tonight, this is who Terry Silver wanted to be.

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity

previous - masterlist

There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.

You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.

Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.

You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.

They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.

You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.

And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.

You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.

"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.

At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.

"Look, who's here!"

Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.

For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.

For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.

"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing. "What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."

"You can see he's a very generous slut."

It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.

"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.

What the actual fuck?

"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.

She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.

You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.

"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.

You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.

Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.

That would never work.

Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said. What a shame.

You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.

Now you really need to get drunk.

There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he? And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?

He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.

Everything he does.

Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.

Sort of.

Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.

You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.

The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.

Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.

You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.

The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.

Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.

You're on the verge of tears.

Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?

Why?

You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.

You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.

He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer. He's the worst and the best part of your existence.

Of course, you'd call him.

"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.

"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"

"No fun at all."

He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.

"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"

"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."

"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?

"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."

"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"

"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.

"The app says what?"

"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.

"I am, baby, but I'm confused."

Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?

It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.

"What does the message say?"

"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."

"I don't think that's what's written, baby."

"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"

"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."

"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.

By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."

"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.

"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.

"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."

As if. You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.

It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.

"Junggoo-"

"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.

Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."

"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so? Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.

"When I received the package I tried it once."

"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.

"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"

"You just said that!"

"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."

"Oh." Makes more sense.

"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."

You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?

"Fucking invite me then."

"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.

Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.

There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.

Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.

You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.

You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.

Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.

It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.

You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.

"For fuck's sake!"

"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.

Why doesn't it mortify you?

"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"

"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.

"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.

"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."

"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."

"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"

"You're lying."

"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."

There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.

"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."

You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.

"This one sucks ass."

"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.

"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"

"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."

"Am not, you are."

He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.

"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.

"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."

You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.

But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.

"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.

"Your stupid toy."

"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"

"Never told you to buy it."

"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."

You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.

"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.

"See?"

It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.

Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.

Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.

For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.

It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.

He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."

"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.

"So is-"

"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.

"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.

You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.

"It sucks."

For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."

"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."

"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.

"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."

"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."

"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"

He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.

"That's not what I said, you brat."

"That's what I heard though."

"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."

Oh. My God.

Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.

"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.

"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.

He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?

"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself. The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.

The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.

"Are you okay?"

Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.

You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.

"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.

Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?

"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.

The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.

It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.

He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.

"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"

"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"

"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful. "I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.

You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.

"Wait-"

"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.

"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."

"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.

"Uh?"

It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.

Shit.

You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.

You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.

"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"

"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.

Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.

Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.

Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that. Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.

In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."

"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?

"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.

"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.

"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."

"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"

"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.

"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."

Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.

"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.

"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.

"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.

"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."

"It's not."

Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.

"It is."

"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.

"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"

You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked. How dares he?

Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?

"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.

You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."

And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.

You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.

"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.

"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.

"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"

The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.

"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."

"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.

"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."

"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain. "Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.

"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.

"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"

"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.

"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.

Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.

Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.

"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.

"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."

Fuck.

You are doomed.

What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?

"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."

"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?" "Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.

"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.

It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.

"I think so..."

"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?

"Why would you stay?"

"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."

"There's an option for that?"

"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.

You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.

"But if you stay-"

"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."

"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.

There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.

But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."

"Oh."

"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.

It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.

"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"

He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.

You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.

"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.

"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.

"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."

"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.

"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.

Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.

"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."

"Well, indeed."

"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.

"Your whole existence is awkward."

"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.

"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.

"You put your earbuds on."

He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.

Fine.

If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.

"Put the thing on."

"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"

"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"

"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.

"Oh. Do you now?"

Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.

You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.

Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.

"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.

It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."

You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.

"Are you still dressed?"

"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.

"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.

They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.

"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"

"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.

"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?" "I think I ruined them..."

"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"

"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.

It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.

"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.

"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.

It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.

"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?

"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.

"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."

"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."

"Jungkook-"

"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."

"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"

"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.

"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.

And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.

"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?

"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.

"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.

"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.

"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"

"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."

"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."

It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.

Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.

You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.

You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.

There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.

You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."

"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.

One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.

There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease. What the fuck have you done?

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.

"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.

"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.

"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.

"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.

It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.

"You sure?"

"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.

"Alright."

He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.

"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.

"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.

Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.

God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.

Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.

"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."

"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it? "To use them with you."

"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.

"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."

"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.

"No."

"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.

You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.

A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.

i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)

for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]

tag list: @safi4x​ @kai-kai-bookshelf​ @somewhereinthestarss​ @hsinmyheart​ @moonchild1​ @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie​ @fangirls94​ @jinsalpaca​ @ggukkieland​

[poguestvff]

CALL ME BACK P. 2 — JJ MAYBANK

in which, JJ and Y/n finally reconcile whilst sat on the bathroom floor

taglist | masterlist | 1.8k words

warning(s): very small descriptions of wounds, angst if you squint, fluff, for the most part, and nothing else i dont think. she/her pronouns part one !!!

The ringing of the phone beside her hadn't made y/n budge instantly. She wasn't expecting a call, her parents knew where she was and who she was with, her friends knew where she was and who she was with. she didn't exactly think there was a reason for a phone call so she let it ring. When a soft ding followed it, the boy beside her let out a sigh.

She raised from the bed, sitting up as she stretched her arms above her head. Y/n picked up her phone from the small table as she noticed the photo she had tried posting finally went through, the tagging of Topper's account making his phone go off as well. She swiped down to the notification center, finding a voicemail from JJ. Her heart seemed to sink within her chest momentarily. She hadn't seen that name in a couple of days, hadn't come in contact with him in a couple of weeks.

It wasn't something she wanted, it was something she needed. Something they needed; Space from one another. She should've seen it coming, hurdling at her at a rapid pace since the time they'd began dating, but she ignored just about every sign until it was right in front of her. She never blamed him, she never would blame him. Y/n understood he had a troubled time showing affection, he was her best friend after all, she knew him in and out, there was no reason to not hold a candle to his name.

Seeing his name made a mountain of things run through her head. Questions upon questions on whether she should listen but a gut feeling made her decision final as she lifted the device to her ear. "Uh, hey. Hey, Y/n/n." She could hear the shakiness, the sound of hesitance that wavered within his voice. "I don't know why I called... Yes, I do. I just really need someone right now and—and everyone's gone. I didn't know who to call except you. Just... just if you get a minute call me back." Then the line went silent.

She looked over to Topper, the boy sleeping sound beside her on his stomach previously though now he lay, staring right back at her. "Was that maybank?" He asked in a groggy tone, a yawn following as he rubbed at his eyes. She hummed, pushing her legs over the side of the bed. "Why did he call?"

"I uh... he didn't say." she said in a low, confused tone, holding the phone in her lap. She couldve called him back, she probably should've. But she didn't know how she'd react if she heard his voice and have to listened to his pained tone again. She typed out several different messages, all in preparation to send but she couldn't decide on which one immediately.

"It's too early, just go back to sleep." Topper said, pulling lightly at the back of her shirt. She looked over her shoulder to him, seeing a tired smile on his face that she didn't reciprocate. "What?"

"I really have to go, Top." She told him as he let out a sigh, turning over on to his back to stare at the ceiling. "He needs me—"

"Just like how Pope needed you to come to dinner the other day or like how Kiara needed your help to chose an outfit."

She clicked her teeth, shaking her head as she stood, setting the phone on the bed. "Don't be an ass." She muttered, grabbing her hoodie from the floor as she threw it over her head. "This is different."

"Tell me how it's different."

"It's JJ! That's how it's different." She exclaimed, hands tossing up before settling at her hips. "If he needs someone and I'm the person he calls, it's not for a dinner date and it's not fashion advice. it's because he genuinely needs someone."

She wasn't quite sure why Topper was so upset over this. they weren't dating, they were just close friends. Friends who spent the night together, watching comedy movies until they cried of laughter. Nothing more, she didn't doubt that for a second. Especially when she knew even when she did these things with JJ, there was always the happy, bubbly feeling within her that didn't feel the same with Topper.

And so the boy rolled his head over to her, fingers thumping against his chest. She couldn't tell what was going on in his head. He hadn't looked angry and there wasn't a frown on his face. It almost looked like he was expecting this, expecting her to defend JJ, tooth and nail. "Then go, y/n."

He looked like he had more to say, like he was biting his tongue, but if he had, he kept those thoughts to himself. "I will." She said, grabbing her phone and her keys, placing them in her back pocket to leave the thornton house.

She sat in the drivers side, pulling her phone from her pocket as the second she'd opened it, JJ's contact was still there. She still hadn't decided on what to send and so she finalized her messaging that she was on the way, sending that she was on her way and a heart. Which, ironically, was the same heart, once again, that they had sent weeks ago before for the last time in their last and final text conversation.

Driving the direct route that she'd known to the chateau had made her stomach feel unnerved. She’d recognized every turn, every stop sign, and the dirt road leading up to the plot. Finding that the front door was not properly closed, clearly slammed as she remembered that the screen was missing a screw causing it to need to be closed slow. The creaky door made someone in the house move as Y/n entered. "JJ?" She asked, making her way further into the home. "Jay, it's just me."

Another noise came from the bathroom as she moved around the corner, seeing JJ sat on the floor. The back of his head was against the wall and his eyes were closed though soft tear streaks shined across his cheeks from the way the light hit them. He opened his eyes finally, only side eyeing Y/n as she stood at the doorway. "i'm sorry."

"Don’t even think about apologizing." She said, pushing his feet back lightly to open the bottom cabinet, finding the medicinal items she needed. She sat in front of him, her knees digging into the hard wood floor below them. She could feel his eyes on her every move while she poured the alcohol onto a small hand towel. "This is gonna sting."

"I know." He replied, a sad smile coming on her face as she began to clean up the small cuts on his cheeks and the split lip. Her opposite hand held his chin lightly, dragging the towel lightly over his skin. She avoided all eye contact, he knew that for a fact as his eyes darted around her face.

She sat back on her ankles as she pointed at his shirt. He nodded, arms raising though wincing in the process as she rushed to his aid, helping him pull the dirty tee from over his head. The bruises that had become more prominent in the time of him waiting on the floor had caused for a heavy feeling to settle in her chest but she didn't say a thing, continuing to work in silence to help ease his pain just enough, leaving at one point to grab a cold beer from the fridge to place against his abdomen since there wasn't a single thing in the freezer other than the quarter filled ice tray.

"So...you and Topper." He said as she tilted his head to the side to clean the blood from the side of his jaw. She gave him a rather chagrined glare. "Sorry, just looking out."

"You don't have to look out anymore." She mumbled as he frowned. "And no... Topper and i— never." she cut herself off.

He went silent for a second, feeling the way her short nails scratched at the side of his cheek lightly. "You’re wrong." he said, suddenly, in Y/n's opinion as she gave him a confused look. "i always have to look out for you. like... like how you're doing right now."

"That’s different." She said for the second time that day.

"You wanna tell me how?"

She sighed, placing her hands in her lap as she sat back. "It just is, JJ. I’m sitting here cleaning your stupid... wounds like old times. This is nothing new."

"And because you and topper's friendship is new, it's different?" he asked. She placed her hands over her face, letting out a low groan against them. "It it's different because we're exes? Because you and Topper dating shouldn't be any of my concern now? News flash, you and Topper even remotely being friends was one of my concerns when we were friends."

She moved her hands from her face, staring at him. "No. what? No, what are you talking about? I didn't even come here to argue about topper, I don't get why it's even a topic right now." she said, her voice faltering near the end before she began leaning forward again to place a bandaid over his cheek.

"Because you know..." he trailed as she didn't even bother stopping. "You’re not... his."

"So what? I’m yours, is that what you're insinuating?" she asked, collecting the trash into her hand.

He didn't answer immediately, fiddling with his fingers in his lap instead. "Yeah." He mumbled. it was clear to him that she had not expected that answer. She stopped, pulling back again, so they could look directly at one another. "I didnt just call you because I could, I called you cause I needed you. I couldve called anyone but I called you because you know me best and i know you best. I know you well enough that you'd drop whatever you were doing for me. That's selfish, yes, but I needed you. Not want, need. A want would be that i want you back."

He was right because that's exactly what she did. And she knew him well enough to see the way he suck his shoulders just slightly in fear of what she'd say next. What she did next. Y/n's hands moved to rest on both of his cheeks, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his forehead before hugging him to her chest. "It didn't work out the first time." She told him in a lower tone.

"That was a trial run, i know what not to do." It was a joke, she knew. He had terrible timing. She heard the emphasis on the ‘I’, implying that he was the only one who made mistakes with the relationship. She let out a very minimal laugh at this, shaking her head at his antics.

She pulled back, running her thumb over the bandaid on his cheek. "We know what not to do." She correct him, placing a gentle kiss to his lips that he returned.

And within that moment, They both knew they were neither a want or need for one another. They were both.

[bi-bard]

You Both Are Idiots - Dean Winchester and Castiel Imagine (Supernatural

Title: You Both Are Idiots

Pairing: Dean x Platonic!Reader, Cas x Platonic!Reader

Requested: by @gabrielasilva1510

Word Count: 1,158 words

Warning(s): Cussing, angst, implied smut (nothing descriptive, trust me)

Summary: (Season 15x3) After stopping the souls that Chuck released, the team has to try to cope with the losses they've faced. (Y/n) is fixated on not letting those losses tear them apart.

Author's Note: I don't usually write for ships but this person had a very interesting way around that.

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

I was tired. Physically and emotionally drained. I just wanted to help in every way I could but the emotions in the bunker were too strong. Pain and anger. Sadness and... love?

I was nowhere near the most powerful or the most spectacular supernatural creature, but I would say my powers were interesting. I was able to feel other people's emotions on an exaggerated level. If someone was hurting, I would hurt just as badly.

Sam and I had actually been working on the potential of twisting people's emotions. It wasn't going great but that also wasn't important.

The bunker was often a place of strange emotions. There was a lot of confusion during the days and nights. I had always noticed the love in the bunker.

It was normal at this point.

Sam and Dean were siblings. Siblings loved each other. Cas was their best friend. Love wasn't shocking there either.

After all that had happened with God and Jack and Mary and Rowena, I was in a lot of pain. So was everyone else... which made mine even worse.

I was walking toward the library in the bunker when I heard Dean snapping at Cas and felt a wave of anger. I froze in the doorway between the map room and the hall.

"Belphagor was lying," Cas said.

"Belphagor was a demon-"

"Belphagor was using us," Cas argued. I scrunched my face at the waves of emotions. It was a lot. Pain, anger, that strange feeling of love. "He wanted to eat every last soul to take over hell, Earth, everything."

"And we would've figured it out," Dean yelled. "After! With Rowena!"

"The plan changed, Dean," Cas snapped. "Something went wrong! You know this, something always goes wrong!"

"Yeah, and why does that thing seem to always be you," Dean asked.

There was one important lesson I learned with my powers. There were different forms of love. And each one felt different. Siblings and families were different from friends and friends were different from lovers. It was a fact that I had to come to terms with.

Dean and Cas didn't have the same love that Sam and Dean did or that I had with either of them. Dean and Cas had love that wasn't just different... it was some of the most powerful I had experienced.

"You used to trust me," Cas said sadly. "Give me the benefit of the doubt. Now you can barely look at me. My powers are failing and I've tried to talk to you. Over and over. And you just don't want to hear it or you just don't care... I'm dead to you. You still blame me for Mary."

There was a moment of silence.

"Well, I don't think there's anything else to say," Cas turned around. He saw me in the doorway. I now had a hand on my chest and tears in my eyes. He sent me a fake smile and a nod as he went to leave.

"Where are you going," Dean asked.

Cas stopped and turned back to Dean for a moment, "Jack's dead. Chuck's gone. You, Sam, (Y/n)... you have each other. I think it's time that I moved on."

Cas turned and continued walking out. I felt all of the pain and the love.

"Cas, stop, please," I asked, making my presence known to Dean too. Cas was at the bottom of the steps.

"(Y/n)-"

"Please," I said. Cas nodded. "I'm sorry but... you guys are both idiots."

"Sorry," Dean raised his eyebrows at me.

"I don't get it," I explained. "I understand that my powers make me feel what you guys do but how do you two not feel it radiating from each other? It's overwhelming."

"Feel what," Dean asked.

"The love and the pain and the fear," I yelled. "I've felt love between two people but this... this is insane."

"(Y/n)-"

"Dean," I cut him off. "I've seen love with friends and with siblings but this isn't the same. It's stronger and it's scarier. And I know that you know that. I just want you two to talk, for fucks sake."

Cas walked closer to the library. He looked at Dean in silence for a moment. Dean stood with his arms crossed.

Dean sighed, his jaw tensing.

"You know that I've seen love between people," I said, stepping closer to him. "Hell, I've seen your parents together. You and Cas are blinding. I'm not letting both of you walk away from that now."

"Please," Cas asked. That seemed to make Dean's resolve crumble. He nodded and the two of them moved to sit at the table.

"Okay," I smiled. "I'm gonna go check on Sam. Give you two some space."

Dean and Cas nodded.

I waved at them on my way out. I walked down the hall quickly. One problem mostly solved, now to the other. I had to stop for a moment when I felt the love I felt turn into pain.

"Sam," I asked, knocking on his door. He quickly wiped his eyes. "You don't need to hide your emotions from me... especially because you can't."

"Instincts, I guess," he forced a chuckle.

"Scoot over," I nudged him lightly. I laid next to him once there was enough room. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and he leaned his head on my shoulder.

It was a funny sight. Sam was taller than everyone he met, myself included, so when he laid his head on my shoulder, his legs went way farther than mine.

"Do you wanna talk about it," I asked. He awkwardly shook his head against my shoulder. "Okay, we don't have to. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"How are Dean and Cas," he asked back.

"Don't know," I replied. "My powers have a range, Sam."

"So... if we got closer, then you'd know?"

"Yeah."

"Come on," Sam stood up, going around so he could drag me down the hall.

"Sam, this is an invasion of privacy," I whispered as he pulled me along. I stopped about halfway there. Sam went to ask me what it was but I shushed him.

"What," he asked quietly. I held a finger up.

I grinned, "No fear... no anger... there's love and... oh."

"'Oh?'"

"Go back," I said. He furrowed his eyebrows. "Go back. Please"

I started pushing Sam back to his room. He started chuckling when he saw my face turn bright red. I rolled my eyes, just wanting to get away from the whole situation.

"I told you it was an invasion of privacy," I snapped as soon as his door closed.

"You should've seen your face," Sam laughed at me. "That was hilarious."

"I'm glad you're feeling better," I replied sarcastically. He hugged me.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "Now. Let's hope we can stay busy in here long enough to avoid the library as much as possible."

"Forever would be ideal."

Sam just nodded.

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

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Musical Prompts

Small Moments With…

When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ I'M NOT BULLETPROOF ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: Hello, here’s the request all sort out ... could I get a Antonio imagine where the reader is related to someone on the unit? With the prompts (fluff 3/ 7) and also could you make it smut? Thank you once more!

❚❙ PROMPTS: “I just wanted to hear your voice”. / “We can pretend that nothing happened last night, but it did”.

❚❙ ANTONIO DAWSON MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ WARNINGS: nsfw, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @anotherfan07 @destynelseclipsa @jadakiss13. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

“Hey…”

“Antonio?”

Sitting up on your bed tossing away the sheets, you turn on the small lamp somewhat worried. It's too late and his gloomy tone of voice worries you. For Jay, you know it hasn't been a good week in the way of the delicate case they have had in his hands. A guy who used to rape and murder officers, just because he thought they didn't deserve to live. In the academy, the instructors teach you to catch the bad people but not to deal mentally with what they do. Every cop has their own way to confront him. Your brother, for example, likes to play videogames to escape from the world.

“You okay?” Whispering, you curl up your legs to your chest, resting your cheek on them.

“Yeah, just wanted to hear your voice”.

You can't help but draw a shy smile on your lips, feeling your face slightly burning. You can't lie and say that he hasn't attracted you since Jay introduced you. He has always been kind and tender, and more funny than your middle-brother had told you.

Last night you went to dinner after work and he drove you to your house. And no, you weren't expecting him to kiss you, just as he wasn't expecting you to correspond it with something else than a physical attraction. You can assure that you're in love with him, but you know you are falling for him a little more every time Antonio looks at you and smiles for no reason.

“Whe—Where are you?”

“Close to the beach. Walking. Clearing my head”.

Puckering your lips, placing your eyes over the large window in front of your bed, you try to not succumb to a new necessity you didn't know you had.

“Wanna come over…?”

“I'd like it”. The murmur appears after some seconds of silence, racing your heart for an instant.

“'Key, see you now”. Biting your bottom lip to contain a smile, you hang up the call.

You decide to get up from bed, being aware that if you stay there you'll end up falling asleep again. The beach isn't too far from your house, knowing the way to perfection. It's your favorite place to have something for dinner after a long shift in the cafeteria you work in. Taking the advantage to bring some order in your flat, you lose track of time till the knocks on the main door claims your attention.

Accommodating your hair, you lead your bare feet to the entrance not being able to hide the soft smile that curves up the corners of your lips, when you receive him. Antonio looks tired to death, not wasting time to hug you under the door frame. Surrounding his neck with both arms you take a step to hold him closer, being overwhelmed by all the sensations he is transmitting to you in such a simple gesture.

The hug lasts longer than you could think, not being bothered by that, enjoying every second of his warmth wrapping you. Hearing him sigh with his forehead resting over your shoulder, you push some distance between both to let him come inside and close the door after his steps.

“Wanna drink something? I have beer, coke, whisky… Water?”

“No, I'm good”. He just replies, taking off his jacket to hang it on a chair. “Listen… we can pretend that nothing happened last night. But it did. I don't wanna put pressure on you and I know who your brothers are, but… I really like you. I've been thinking about you, about us, the whole day. In my job you know when you start to work, but you don't know if you'll come home and I don't want to lose the opportunity of being with you, of leaving this world knowing… that I've made you happy”.

These words, the desperation in his voice as he is finishing them, leaves you speechless. Your brain is trying to process what Antonio has just said, keeping his trembling hands inside the pocket of his jeans. The first thing you can think about is that you don't care about Jay, nor Will. They only want for you a man who treats you like you deserve. The best of the best. And the man in front of you is it.

“I can leave, if you wan'me to”.

“Wh— no, no, no”. You fastly reply, taking the steps enough to shorten the distance between the two of you, aware that you've spent too many seconds without saying anything, making him doubt that you don't feel exactly like he does. “I… Antonio, I…”

As soon as you understand that you're not able to form a sentence with sense, you simply place your hands on both sides of his neck while standing on your tiptoes, to crash your lips on his. It doesn't take him by surprise, being what he was waiting for more than for a talk. Bending down slightly, he lifts you up to urge you to surround his waist with your legs. The necessity of feeling each other closer and closer is suffocating you, leaving you breathless because of the passion concentrated in the kiss.

Antonio brings you to your room fastly than you can assimilate, falling on the bed when his knees collide with the mattress. The kiss breaks because of the laughs with a sensation of joyful filling up your chests. Helping him with his t-shirt to throw it somewhere on the floor, you roll up over his body before attacking his lips again. Biting, sucking and tasting them. Deepening with his tongue invading your mouth to play with yours. His hands paw your body almost desperate to memorize every inch of your anatomy, landing them on your ass when he feels the friction against the rock under his jeans, as soon as you swing your hips.

Antonio tosses off his shoes, heel against heel, sliding his fingers over your body to grab the gems of your t-shirt and take it off to discover your soft and sweet skin. Normally, both you and him, would enjoy some foreplay; but not this time. Not after long months of containing the desire to be together in every way. He needs to be inside you. You need him to be inside of you. And while his lips devour your breasts helping himself with a hand, stealing your honeyed moans, the other undoes his belt and the zip of his jeans. Three simply pulls down and his hardness breaks free to his abdomen.

You can't help but lick your lips strongly, urging you to lie on your back to watch him roll down the black thong left on you by your thighs. The fire burning within his eyes gives you chills, not being able to break eye-contact. Settling himself between your legs, spreading them for his delight, his right hands goes straight to his dick; jerking himself off to prepare for you.

“Look at me…” He almost begs with a broken thread of voice, as his glans rubs your center slowly, playing with your mind. “We're on time to stop”.

“I don't want you to”. Your lips brushes his, wrapping his neck with both arms.

You couldn't regret it. You couldn't regret letting him walk into your life. For letting him love you with so much kind and tenderness. Antonio is everything you could have dreamt with all your life, and you're not going to let him go. He just nods in silence with his eyes fixed on yours, digging himself inch by inch inside you. The warmth and the wetness within your cunt make him grunt and shake slightly, feeling by his part how his length forces your wall a little creating a delicious sensation.

“Fuck…” You sigh nailing your fingertips on the back of his neck when he reaches your limits.

Buried deep inside you, one of your legs surrounds his waist trying to push him closer.

“You feel so good, amor”. He babbles pecking your lips with sloppy kisses, placing his right hand on your thigh, as the other wraps your middle back. “You wan'me to move?”

“Please, Antonio”.

He feels proud of hearing you imploring, moving his hips back enough to go forth again, starting a slow dance that curls your tiptoes and causes your eyelids to close. It feels like your bodies are made exactly for the other, fitting to perfection. Soon, your whimpers fill up your room, creating a pleased and delighted echo that it's like a celestial song for the man satisfying you as his only worry tonight. He has the imperious necessity of demonstrating you every single thing he has carried inside his heart since Jay introduced you.

Thrust after thrust, moan after moan, the atmosphere around you is full of heat and devotion for each other. Antonio nails his teeth in your neck without warning you, feeling the tip of his tongue pressing down your skin with soft caresses, being aware that tomorrow you will have a new tattoo. From your lips escape some giggles mixed with surprised gasps, being the match that lights the wildfire inside you.

With a quick move, not knowing where the strength has come from, you sit over him making him laugh. Putting your hands on his bare chest, Antonio travels his to your hips while resting his head on the pillow. If he wasn't in love before, now he really is, watching you taking control. He hasn't ever seen a most beautiful view; you, rocking your body over his, dragging your nails on his skin to bristle it wherever they venture, your breasts almost bouncing with every move (...). If his body were a temple, you would be his goddess without a single damn doubt.

And you can't help but speed up the pace, synchronizing your pleased vocals in a perfect melody all around; increasing them as the knot in your lower belly becomes more suffocating, running your lungs out of air. One of Antonio's hands is placed in your middle back, pushing you down to catch your lips with his. He has declared himself an addict since the very first moment he touched them.

The pearls of sweat decorate your foreheads, as the moans are constant and you can't delay it anymore. The orgasm explodes inside you like fireworks screaming out his name, not caring about the fact that your neighbors can hear you, feeling his hot seed filling you up with a last push to your g-spot. An indescribable sensation that has you two breathless.

You can't help but utter a grunt of disappointment when he pulls himself out of you, falling by a side of your bed trying to catch back your air. Looking at Antonio, the two of you giggle inevitably being conscious of what just happened. But it feels good. It feels so good. Stretching his arms towards you to embrace you against his body, he leans a little to press his lips on yours with so much tenderness, leaving a sigh on them. Resting your heads on the pillow, you place a hand on his cheek to caress it gently with your thumb, watching him close his eyes to only focus on your touch.

“The first time I saw you… I knew your smile would give me some trouble”. You mumble, feeling his grip become a little tightly.

“Did it, uh?”

“Not the kind I thought”.

Antonio chuckles licking his bottom lip, shrugging funnily.

“I'm not gonna say I'm sorry, baby”.

[fablesrose]

OKAS XXXVII

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader

Warnings: angst, itty bitty tiny fluff at the end if you squint, mentions of drinking, depression nap, talking about feelings, comfort

OKAS Masterlist~Masterlist

a/n: FINALLY

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

The next few days went by slowly, everyone came by to check on me.

"I'm sorry for what was said in there. It must have been really hard for you. It was cruel. I'll set up some precautions next time so it won't happen again."

I looked up at Tony, "Does that mean you're going to lock yourself in your lab again?"

He smiled, "Probably."

I laughed, "don't be in there too long. I don't wanna have to drag you out again."

"No need kid."

I stopped him before he could leave, "Did... did you remember what happened in there? Do you think he really meant all that?"

Tony sat back down next to me. "No, Friday was recording and hacked into the base's security. I watched the footage back. No, I don't think he meant any of the things he said. Henry put us all under."

"But Loki has the most fortified mind here... How could he..." I trailed off, not really knowing how to finish the sentence.

Tony placed a soft hand on my shoulder, "Look, this is just a theory, but it looks like Henry's ability is electric-based, specifically human electricity. The human body is a fantastic conductor, it allows it to spread. In fact, that's what our brains are running on right now! Our brains are firing off electric signals to relay information, and it seems like Henry was able to use this to get into our heads. Loki has his brain well protected from magical attacks, but... it seems even gods aren't immune to electric signals."

I sighed, "maybe you're right but... why hasn't he come to check on me yet? I don't want to be selfish and make him do all the work but-"

"He should know that would upset you and should at least try and comfort you."

I rubbed my face, "Am I being a bitch?"

Tony smiled, "No more than usual."

I slapped his arm as he got up to leave, both of us laughing for a second.

I tried to make the thoughts go away, to rationalize them out, but they kept echoing. His voice. I wish it was Henry's voice so that I could shove it all away, but it wasn't. It was Loki's voice that said them. With Loki's eyes gazing down at me with hatred. Loki's hands shoving me away. Loki's teeth bared at me in a snarl.

I groaned and threw one of my pillows at the wall and blocked the light from my window to try and take a nap. I felt exhausted from not getting restful sleep at night, maybe I'll sleep better in the day taking a nap.

"Oh, so violent today are we?" The voice that had been echoing in my head spoke from my doorway.

I sighed quietly, trying to decide what this conversation was going to be like, "Hello to you too. Where have you been?"

He ran a hand through his hair, "To be quite frank, asleep. Tell me, did the mission go that awry? I haven't slept that long for a very long time."

I sunk back into my bed, so he didn't know, "You could say that..."

"Hm, I'm sorry darling we didn't get him. You look upset. Is there anything I can do?"

The fact that he didn't know anything seemed to make the emotions bubbling inside of me worse, "If you're asking that question, then no, there is nothing you can do. Please leave and let me sleep."

He looked at me puzzled, "What does that mean?"

I sighed, "Nothing, just... please go."

"No no, I'm not going until you tell me what you meant."

"You don't have to keep acting like you care okay?! Your life debt is paid, now go away!" I felt bad for throwing something in his face that he didn't remember, but I was tired and sad, and just wanted to be alone.

"What? Where the hell did you get that idea?"

I looked him dead in the eyes, "You."

He just looked at me in shock.

"Now go." I didn't leave much time for him to obey, I just took some shadows and pushed him out the door and locked it behind him. I flopped on the bed and fell asleep.

Surprisingly, my mind was quiet.

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

Loki just stared at the door, somewhat dumbfounded. He tried the handle and found that it didn't even wiggle. She looked so upset, and to find out that he might have had something to do with it? He had this overwhelming sense of dread grow within him.

It took him a long time for him to admit to himself that he cared for her, but then when he did, she was gone. He finally had a second shot to have this friendly connection with her, and now he might have messed it all up. He admitted to himself that if anyone would have broken them up it would have been him, but it hurt. The fact that he couldn't even remember what happened made it worse.

He touched his forehead to her door.

He needed to fix this.

The first step was to figure out what the hell he said. He ventured towards the kitchen, hoping to find answers in someone, anyone. Luckily he found a few of his teammates there.

"Hello sleepyhead," Tony greeted him, "do you want some food?"

"No... I-" Loki sat at the island, "I went to visit Y/n-"

"Did you apologize?"

Loki sputtered a little bit, confused, but knowing something had to be done, "no, I don't know what for!"

A collective sigh went around the room. Natasha grabbed enough glasses for everybody and helped Tony pour drinks.

"So, we know you didn't mean any of it, and Y/n knows at some level that you didn't mean it, but she's really hurting right now." Clint made eye contact with Loki as he took a sip from his glass, "and you might have just inadvertently made it worse by going in and not reassuring her."

Loki groaned, "I don't even know what I did!"

"We know."

Tony had Friday pull up the footage and let him watch it without interruption. As Loki listened to the footage, his face slowly lost its color. He covered his face and started to tremble. As the video ended, they asked if he was okay.

"I- I can't believe those awful things came out of my mouth." He took a shuddered breath, "How could this happen?"

"The simple answer is that the King  wanted to be a copycat of your brother, make himself manipulate some sort of electricity and that I'm working on a solution so you don't need to worry about it." Tony finished his drink in one big gulp.

Natasha grabbed his attention, "What you do need to worry about is Y/n. Everyone knows it is not your fault, but like Clint said, she's hurting right now. She really needs to hear it from you that those things aren't true... if they aren't."

"Of course not!"

"Well, no matter how hard she tries, she is having doubts right now." Natasha's expression held its regular stoicism.

Loki stood abruptly, "I've got to right this."

"Woah there cowboy," Tony placed a firm hand on his shoulder and sat him down again. "Friday, how is Y/n doing?"

"Y/n is currently sleeping."

Tony gave Loki a pointed look, "Now, we all know not to wake a lady, especially when she's upset. So." Tony removed his hand from his shoulder once he was sure Loki wasn't going to run away, "what you're gonna do is: we're gonna leave her a message for when she wakes up that you want to talk to her, when she is ready. Okay?"

Loki nodded.

"Okay, good. Now let's get you back to health with some food, you've been out for a while."

After they sent Loki on his way with his own thoughts, Clint and Natasha turned to Tony.

"That was weirdly healthy and well thought out of you, we're impressed."

Tony poured himself another drink, "What can I say? Pepper is one hell of a teacher."

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

Loki sat alone in his room thinking back to his memory of the mission. How did it all go so wrong? How could that bastard cause him to hurt one he cared about so deeply. He seemed to do so easily, which made it worse.

While he was wallowing and planning what he could ever say to make this better, a knock came to his door.

He pulled it open to find his dear little Y/n on the other side of the door. Her hair was a little disheveled and her face looked weary, but her eyes had a spark more life than when she pushed him out of her room.

"Uh, Friday said you wanted to talk..."

Loki stepped to the side, "Oh yes, of course. Come in, come in."

He offered her a seat and he took one of his own a little bit across from her trying to make her comfortable but trying to be direct.

He clasped his hands on his lap and leaned forward slightly, "The first thing I would like to say is I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes, "Loki-"

"No no, I'm not apologizing for Henry's behavior, for the absolutely dreadful things he said to you. No, I'm showing my deep regret that you had to hear them. To have them fall from my lips must have been horrifically hurtful." He shifted a little in his seat, "I just wanted to let you know that not one word spoken was true."

A sigh fell from her lips, and Loki could see that weight fell as well as if those few words help relieve even a tiny bit of her worries.

He continued, "You are the strongest person I have ever met, and to be honest, I'm just here for the ride to see what amazing havoc you're going wreak on his sorry ass."

That caused her to release a small giggle.

"In fact, um," Loki had to take a moment to look down at his hands to prepare himself, "those things he made me say couldn't be further from the truth."

Loki held her attention earnestly, "I know it may not be the best time to say this, that you may not be ready, or want this, but..." Loki took a deep breath and licked his lips nervously, "I can't have you think for another moment that I feel anything but love for you."

He watched as time seemed to slow down. His eyes followed the gentle movements of her face as she seemed to process what he said.

"Now if that love isn't what you want and need right now, or ever, then we can just be friends but I just needed you to know-"

Y/n reached forward and grabbed onto his hands, "Don't you dare hold that back from me." She pulled him forward gently by his hands.

Loki slid from his chair and kneeled in front of her on the ground. His hands became unclasped as he moved them to hold her face gently. Her hands stayed on his as he used his thumbs to wipe away the tears falling down her face.

"Are you sure? If you need to focus on... everything else then-"

Y/n shook her head, "I don't want to focus on that. I want to focus on this, on you."

"But I've hurt you."

Her head shook again, "Then don't hurt me again and kiss me. Please."

And he did.

It was soft, tender, and so different than the world has been to them recently. Neither of them wanted it to end, but they knew that it wasn't a goodbye kiss.

It was hello.

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[everyothermouse]

every day I see people or mutuals of mutuals and I Must Resist Befriending them because this exactly thing happens so often. congrats you're the newest victim!! please ramble about your stories my eyes and ears are open and ready to receive the inevitable magnificence of your writing ability

OHG HII ok imma talk abt my 3 fav stories rn under the cut leta go

Tws for hunters: implied suicidal thoughts, implied homelessness

Tws for unspeakable: sex mentions and implied sexual abuse

Tws for boiling over: abuse, murder, drugging, assault, self harm ment, self hate

OK first is hunters, I used to never shut up about this story (it still is my most full story tag 💀) but I haven't talked as much about it lately I feel? Here's main cast my beloveds

Hunters is a monster of the week style monster hunting story about 4 humans protecting their city from magical threats! Honestly pls read the s1 villain summaries after this they're my beloveds even if I don't have any extra interesting things to talk about with them on this post 😭💞

Anyways THE HUNTERS THEMSELVES from left to right that's gabby, an 11 year old girlscout who has a sword and is super motivated and wants to do EVERYTHING but can't cus she's 11 and ppl won't let her 😔

then there's peter who a 40 year old depressed museum worker/weaver who honestly didn't ask to be here but who gets dragged along by gabby and genny. They hang out with gabby because they has a cookie addiction, are a mentor figure to her (for girlscouts related volunteer reasons), and also cus she was kind of the only thing keeping them alive pre-story (gabby doesn't know this tho and peter ain't telling her.) Peter is kind of the kind of person who likes to lone wolf their own things, so they struggle to get along with genny and gabby who both have very dominant leaders personalities.

Next is hash, ultra anxious 15 year old girl, she's an artist a lesbian and a nervous wreck but she likes monster hunting because shockingly it makes her feel more in control of her life (she's scared out of her mind of monsters, but she's also terrified of her home life and at least monsters she can like, hit with a sword or genuinely run away from.) She ends up being the introvert adopted by all the other three, gabby becomes her best friend, genny metaphorically adopts her cus she's baby (genny was originally mean to hash cus she saw herself in her, but at some point gens was like 'wtf am I doing this is literally just a pathetic incredibly stressed teen I should be protecting her not making her life worse'), and peter LITERALLY adopts her a little ways into s2 (she kind of starts living with them late s1 but adoption wasn't a super easy process :P.)

And finally genny tall queen, single mom of a 3 year old (and then later a second fish baby who she found dead in a sewer who got resurrected with fish magic, long story) who is very very sweet to kids being a tutor and mother, but who will absolutely kick adult villains asses lol. She's honestly generally kind of mean at first, but it's mostly cus she's self conscious and needs everything to be perfect so she can kind of put others down to try and make things everyone's fault but her own. Ah don't worry, she gets character developement :3

Peter also gets a boyfriend at the end of season 1 (said boyfriend being the villain who was trying to seduce peter by fighting his "family" (the other hunters) for the first season. I'd say he has bad taste by that description but tbf prince has a whole arc or whatever. Why am I saying or whatever he's literally my favorite monsters223 character 😭 ohg this post isn't about him tho.) Prince is a ghostly boi from the underworld whos just absolutely head over heels for peter. Hes a demon history and language nerd, a romantic dork, and a good cook although he's not always up to it cus he has ~chronic pain~. Yeah hes in that villain post I linked if u wanna look at him beautiful face [edit: WAIT U HAVE SEEN PRINCE I FORGOT HIM FACE IS MY ICON :O ]

Universe tag: monsters223

Story tag: hunters223

Character tags: gabby garner, peter, hash brown, genny, prince

Blinkie:

Ok NEXT imma talk about unspeakable my beloved it's main character is peck who uve probably seen cus pea likes him but here's the beloved him

He is a character I used to plan on never talking about but then randomly became a deranged amounts of obsessed with (/pos) and then drew 8 million times and like wrote out his whole life story and stuff which u do not have to read cus I wrote it one night at 3 am and haven't double fact checked since so it's probably a mess LOL

He's a lil succubus lad who goes on adventures and seduces ppl, he's peppy and somewhat silly and def has a bunch of unprocessed childhood trauma (this is why I put his old math teacher on the punchability list <3) that caused his hypersexuality (not every succubus is hypersexuality, like his best friend bray is actually very sex repulsed because of being a succubus.) He has a couple longer term partners: his life partner wings whos a short ancient angel he found out sleeping in the woods when he was like 14 and has stuck with since. They're repairing a house together over by the beach (unspeakable main setting is a town in a forest which has farmland and a beach a short walk through the forest land.) There's his boyfriend Red who he's just constantly been on and off with since they were in highschool, hes a gamer boy who likes frog and is currently studying to become a highschool teacher, although that's not super important since I haven't got too much into writing adult red yet. Then Angel has been pecks boyfriend since he was like 18, but they're like part time boyfriends lol, peck visits when he can but it's taken him a hot while to convince angel to ever come back to town with non-angels and angel still isn't fully sold on spending good amounts of time there (tbf to him he is nine feet tall and kinda has overheating problems outside his part of the forest, like human society isn't exactly convenient for him.) He's a real sweetheart, he adores peck and peck adores him. Pecks most recent boyfriend is mail, who's currently my fav unspeakable character 😚 kitty mailman but not exactly in a cute little cat boy way, this is him:

So big boy!!!! Also vaguely cryptid boy, cat species generally grow up in the woods and his lil racoon face with the sideburns just adds to that vibe. Anyways hes the one of the longtime bfs (and general love interests) who peck has the hardest time seducing bcus hez very much like, a tired 40 year old man who isn't interested in sex and romance he just wants to deliver the mail and stuff buuuut he slowly starts to grow fond of peck :3. Next partner isn't a boyfriend as much, it's more of an alterous relationship but peck still calls him his boyfriend, vinnie/vignette. Mail and him are sort of partners in work (and later just partners in life in general) and he's a lil satyr mail deliverer! He's demosexual and his getting with peck was slow, he was oblivious of the fact that peck was like, ACTUALLY flirting with him at first cus he just thinks (kind of rightfully so) peck is just like that with everyone. At some point he suddenly gains consciousness and is like "wait a minute he's kind of hot hh?????" and that leads to yknow. Things. So yeah they go on dates and stuff but like I said ~alterously~ cus vinnie doesn't feel exactly romantic things in general he is just? Idk who needs labels he's just him. Also ngl I'm obsessed with mail trio lately so fuck it look at vinnie too he's cute

BABY U ARE MY ANGELLLL

Yeah anyways unspeakable has story arcs and plot things tasty worldbuilding (look at species chart I lov them even if I missed sirens and unicorns and what not) but at the moment my brain is just consumed by the peck polycule so that's all u get to hear about lol

Universe tag: n/a (no other stories in universe)

Story tag: unspeakable

Character tags (not everyone has tags yet cus barely anyone has names 😭): peck, red, mail, vignette

Blinkie:

LAST STORY u might like this one cus ik you've reblogged some pics of cayanne, my beloved boy who's ass I constantly kick, whos from this story 😚💕💞💞💞

He never did anything wrong and yet he gets this shit 😔 I just like destroying him lol

Boiling over is a horror (well it's half horror and half parody horror, once we get to victim gang I'm more just having a fun time bein silly with horror tropes than anything lol.) I'm not actually gonna talk about victim gang rn cus I'm mostly in a kai and vanilla mood, so I'm gonna talk about them :3

Vanilla: very cute little guy who's Marshall's beloved baby brother who would definitely never hurt anyone! Except he does 😇

he's actually the absolute worst to cayanne with a big ol smile on his face. He really likes control, he's incredibly obsessive over his brother marshall and best friend/joyfriend kath. He likes having Marshall under his thumb, not to even do anything really, he just needs his comfort person around. What leads him to do not so great things is the fear of losing his favorite people, he has frequently purposefully and secretly poisoned or injured Marshall to avoid him going on trips and to keep him trapped in the house where vanilla can take care of him and make him love his little brother more. Marshall is totally oblivious, he honestly believes that what's making him get sick is just the stress from becoming more popular and successful in his baseball career and having a lot of pressure put on him, if anything he's just so glad his sweet baby brother is helping him get through it! Kath is less oblivious, I won't get into what vanilla does to kath cus I simply do not want to, but kath is very happy to punish him which vanilla actually loves partially because he thinks he deserves to be hurt but mostly because he's a masochist. (Ps kath also sucks lol they murder and torture people :]))

Cayanne is Marshall's boyfriend, he's also a baseball player. He plays up his big ego and acts like he's the hottest shit ever, he's always confident and totally doesn't have an incredibly fragile self esteem that relies entirely on winning /s. Hes a bit of a mess and super competitive and kind of hates himself, but he always has got to be strong and cool and never break. Vanilla absolutely hates kai, because he finds kai pathetic and Marshall loves kai, which makes vanilla very jealous (of how much attention kai gets I mean, not in an incestuous way ew. Vanilla is ew in general but not in that specific field.) So umg he ends up sort of, hurting kai and threatens him not to talk abt it with black mail. But kai kind of has a very difficult relationship with pain and ends up sort of coming back to vanilla, because despite how gross he feels vanilla was the first person who made him feel like the part of him that was pathetic, a sore loser, etc. was something not just worth acknowledging but something to be prioritized and given room to be expressed. They have a veryyy unhealthy relationship to say the least, cayanne feels very guilty for it but vanilla doesn't really, frankly as far as he cares if anything ever comes out about it he'll blame kai for everything and finally get to have Marshall cut kai out of his life. To be honest Marshall would probably side with cayanne if he found out, but cayanne honestly doesn't think he would so he's afraid to speak up about anything <:)

Yes very sorry for not talking about kath and the gang 😔 to summarize the rest of the gang:

Luke is kath and vanillas friend who's spent his whole life in danger and can basically turn off his humanity because his existence is so buried is defense mechanisms. He does have a personality tho, he's pretty flirty, he likes food, he's just your average casual cool guy who you are screaming at your screen to his non murderer friends that he is OBVIOUSLY leading them on to betray them.

Kath is a depressed bastard who likes digging around in garbage and torturing people cus hearing people scream is basically all that makes xem feel anything anymore. Xe especially takes a liking to kai and nessa, but they're glad to fuck with Emory and Jake too, equality. They dont touch Marshall cus vanilla would be pissed at xem and they want to keep vanilla around. Besides Marshall is teaching them to bake, it's the first hobby they've felt any real interest in years. Oh yeah they're also with kai and Marshall on the whole baseball thing.

Victim gangggg Jake is a repressed trans lesbian who's eyesight is shit and who as such is constantly recording everything cus they see better looking through their phone camera than with their eyes (get this kid some glasses please.) They have a crush on vanessa, who's ur average scaredy cat horror girl, she likes statistics and hanging out with her gang exploring scary places. (What? She likes being scared, she may be easily freaked out but that doesn't mean it's not fun for her when she's not Literally Being Murdered lol.) Luke is also in victim gang but I already sorta talked about him, and the Emory is nessas big step brother/sibling, they're a peer pressure king and just wants people to think he's cool and brave, but because they're an absolute dumbass this leads them to dangerous stupid ass situations. Also kai is an unofficial part of the victim gang, hes their supervisor since they're all like 16 or 17 or whatever and Emorys mom is tired of him going out and getting hurt so she's patronizing them and nessa by basically forcing a babysitter on them lol.

Universe tag: n/a again

Story tag: boiling over

Character tags: cayanne, vanilla, marshall, kath, luke, emory, jake, vanessa

Blinkie:

To tell you the truth I don't even like boiling over that much, I just happen to be in a mood for it rn lol.

[whitewolfmoving]

Boston Burning Part Two

Explosion

Summary: Over breakfast, Nika recounts the events of the fire for Chris; afterwards, he reminds her that she is anything but useless.

Warnings: description of fire emergency, description of fire-related injuries, description of being trapped in a burning building, slight angst, description of non-sexual nakedness

Word Count: 2218

A/N: Chapter two is here! I had so much fun writing this chapter and developing Chris and Nika's relationship. For the sake of this part of the series, Chris and Nika's dynamic is just as important as Sebastian and Nika's dynamic. Happy reading!

Waking up in Boston the next morning was a breath of fresh air for Nika. While she couldn't get her mind off of the fact that she was out of work until her body healed, she had accepted the fact that she was pretty much on a paid vacation. And Chris had upgraded from his small studio apartment in downtown Boston to a fully furnished three-bedroom condo close to the firehouse since her last visit, so at least she wasn't putting him out.

It'd been days since she last talked to her brother, and Nika was more than content to continue her stay in Boston without his hovering. They had always been close, but Sebastian could be a bit overbearing at times, which was the last thing she needed right now. She wouldn't feel guilty for not checking in with him — she was a big girl,  she didn't have anything to feel guilty for...

The scent of fresh waffles wafted through the air, finally pulling Nika out of bed. She stretched, grabbed her hearing aids from the nightstand next to her bed and shoved them in the pocket of her pajama pants. No use putting them in before she was ready, sounds of the early morning were a little too  overwhelming for her and Chris knew sign anyway.

"Hey, there she is! Morning, Honeybee," Chris exclaimed once Nika had made her way downstairs. He pointed to his ear when she sat at the island across from him, she shook her head. He gave her a knowing smile. "I wondered when breakfast would get you out of bed."

"Not just any breakfast… I only get out of bed this early for your waffles." Nika laughed, stealing a strip of crispy bacon from the platter.

"How are you feeling? Sleep okay?" Leave it to Chris to make sure she was as comfortable as possible with her arm in a sling and bandages inhibiting movement even if it weren't.

She shrugged. "Slept okay for the most part, your guest bed is really comfortable. My wrist is sore but manageable, my shoulder and chest hurt more than I care to say."

Chris frowned. Nika was always an unstoppable, immovable force to be reckoned with; for her to admit to being in pain, even a little bit, things had to be worse than she'd originally let on. He took the last waffle off of the iron and set it on the platter with the others, then nodded to the dining table. "Go sit. I'll bring juice and your meds. Let's eat, then we'll see about relieving some of the discomfort on your chest and shoulder, okay?"

Nika had to hand it to him, Chris's hovering was much different than Sebastian's. Her brother often forgot that she was a grown woman who could take care of herself, that she didn't need him constantly looking out for her every second of the day like he had when they were kids. But Chris opted for a more hands off approach to everything — unless she outright stated that she needed help, he let her do her own thing for the most part. Coming to Boston was definitely the right choice.

As they sat down at the table, Nika slipped both hearing aids in and turned them on, setting the volume lower than usual since it would just be her and Chris. She took a deep breath and sighed, adjusting first thing was always the worst part. Once the ringing in her ears died down to where it was bearable, she smiled up at him.

"Why do you always make waffles and bacon my first day here?" she asked, dragging a strip of bacon through the syrup on her plate and plopping it in her mouth.

"Why do you always defile my prize-winning bacon like that?" Chris countered, scrunching his nose up in mock disgust.

"Because you make that face right there," she said, giggling around a mouthful of warm waffles.

"Because you smile that smile right there," he replied sincerely.

They'd had that conversation a billion and one times before, and each time their answers were the same.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Chris waved to get her attention. The distant look in her eyes told him that she'd been somewhere else, and he could already guess where. He poured a glass of orange juice and handed it over to her along with the medication she needed to take that morning.

"Do you wanna tell me about it?"

"Would you believe me if I said I don't?"

"Nope. You forget I know you just as well as Seb does. So, come on, out with it."

Nika exhaled deeply. "Dispatch routed Squad, Truck, and Engine to a four-story house fire on Main. By the time we got there, you just knew we only had enough time to get everyone out before the flash. Mackie and Nova went to vent the back and clear downstairs, I went up to the top. The main floor was clear, the second floor had two. Mackie got them out and I kept going to the third floor, it was also clear. Finally reached the top floor and called out, the smoke is so thick by this point that I can't see not two feet in front of me."

"Why didn't you wait for Mack or Seb?" Chris asked. He could tell where the story was headed before Nika had even started speaking again; a burning desire to kick the ass of whoever had done this to her welled up in his veins, but he held it at bay so she could finish.

"Sebastian was off for the night. We had to clear the building before the ceiling came down, Chris. What else was I supposed to do?" She wished he wouldn't look at her like that. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and continued. "I cleared the front bedrooms, the nursery, the bathroom. I kept calling out but no one responded. I made it all the way down the hall, the heat was unbearable, the smoke was dark and bitter. I could see just enough, and I only had one more room to clear when Chief Jackson made the call to evacuate, saying it was gonna come down. You don't have to tell me twice, you know? Me and Bas have been in enough flashovers to know when to get the hell out of Dodge.

I turned to leave, head back the way I came when the door to my left burst open. A body landed on top of me out of nowhere. He just kept shouting at me, saying someone had to pay for ruining his plan and that it was my lucky day. I kept trying to get him off of me but he wouldn't budge, he just kept looking up at the burning ceiling and counting down. He grabbed my helmet, my mask… I couldn't breathe, I couldn't call for help."

Chris reached across the table and took Nika's hand in his, giving her an encouraging squeeze. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come.

"The only thing I remember before waking up in the hospital is the whole thing coming down on top of me. I blinked and the guy wasn't there anymore; it was just me, alone, under piles of burning debris. I could feel the flames eating through my gear, burning away my skin. And I couldn't do anything except lay there helpless. Just before I blacked out I heard Bas calling me."

"What did he say?"

"What he always says whenever I'm too far away, Întoarce-te la mine, Micuță. And then I woke up in the hospital with a broken wrist and second-degree burns on my shoulder and across half of my chest. If anything else happened between the house coming down and me waking up in the hospital, I don't know."

Chris's fingers opened and closed around Nika's. He didn't have the words to express the mix of emotions running through his body, all he knew was that he wanted to get his hands on the man from the fire and make sure he didn't get to walk away again. He blew out a long breath and looked across the table at her.

"You can stay here for as long as you need to," he offered.

Nika stood, awkwardly clearing the empty plates from the table with one hand. "Thanks. But I don't know how to do this. I'm a firefighter, I don't know how to just be a regular person. Right now, I'm completely useless."

Chris couldn't believe what he was hearing. The pain etched on her face and laced in her voice was unbearable. He wanted nothing more than to take it away, and give her back that sense of purpose she always found in her career, but how could he? Until she'd fully healed, there was nothing anyone could really do. He couldn't imagine the thoughts going through her head.

He took the plates from her hand and set them in the sink, then led her from the kitchen to the bathroom. He may not have been able to change what happened, but he could help her relax.

"What are you doing?" Exhaustion settled deep within Nika's bones. It'd been the first time she'd told anyone what all she remembered from the fire, and she couldn't help feeling like she had screwed up somehow. Why else would someone have been able to get the jump on her so easily? Why else would she have gone down without a fight?

Chris stepped up behind her, positioned her in front of the mirror, and gently pulled her hearing aids from her ears. When she protested, he held his hands up signaling her to wait.

"The woman standing in front of me is far from useless." He grabbed the hem of the t-shirt she'd worn to bed, gently lifted it over her head and carefully pulled it from her injured arm. The unsightly bandages stuck out on her chest like a sore thumb, and he watched as she wrinkled her nose at her reflection in the mirror.

He slowly pulled the bandages away, the skin underneath was raw and bruised. She stood before him half-naked, a look of annoyance clouding her amber eyes.

Chris gently washed over the back of her shoulder and across the right side of her chest with warm water, careful not to agitate the wound too much. Nika's skin was warm to the touch, he often said it was because she had fire in her veins. He looked at her in the mirror as he rinsed the soap from her chest. "She's strong, she's courageous, she's stubborn, she's wild, she's a total badass."

Nika snorted, rolling her eyes. The burn would leave behind scarring along her collarbone, breast, and shoulder blade. Nothing about her currently seemed anything like what Chris had described. "Don't be stupid, Evans."

"I'm serious." Chris used a clean piece of gauze to pat the area on her chest and shoulder dry before bandaging it up again. He moved her hair off to the side and kissed the top of her head. "I see the woman who survived a freak accident, I see my best friend. She may be a little broken, a little bruised, a little scarred. But you are anything but useless, Nik. And you'll get through this."

"Being a firefighter is all I am, it's all I have," she explained sadly. She put her hearing aids back in and followed Chris from the bathroom.

"Somehow I don't think that's right, Nik. That's not all you are."

"And how would you know? You've never done anything else a day in your life either, Chris! You live and breathe being a firefighter just as much as I do."

"Maybe. But you're also my best friend, you're Sebastian's annoying kid sister. And you're a great chef, for one. You have other things you like to do in your down time. It's not the end of the world."

"Those are hobbies. Firefighting is my life. Without it, I'm nothing."

"You're talking as if you've already been told not to go back."

"We both know Bas won't want me to go back. The call was too close."

Chris sighed and pulled Nika into a hug. He didn't have the answer this time, but he wouldn't leave her to figure it out on her own.

Nika thanked whatever god was listening that she'd cried out all of her tears in the hospital bed. And maybe Chris was right. Just because she couldn't work right now didn't mean she wouldn't ever work again. And maybe the time off would do her some good, give her a chance to see what else was out there beyond the fast-pace of firefighting.

But when she thought of what the future had to offer her outside of the firehouse, that scared her more than rushing into burning buildings did. Firefighting lived in Nika's veins.

"Hey," Chris stepped back so he could look her in the eyes. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead and smiled. "Whatever happens back home, you know you always have a place here at 64."

Till The End of All Things Taglist: @arrowsandmixtapes @pinknerdpanda